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[fics i enjoy or plan to read later !] 21 !!! MDNI NSFW CONTENT AHEAD

[digitaltrippers]

"Our love is like lemonade, I keep on tasting"

side blog • 21 • he/it • reblogs of fics i plan to read or have read or my favorites

I interact with dark contact and will reblog works with aged up characters.

main: ask

enjoy this weird little library of mine.

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[norel-ravenclaw]

Wrapped Up With A Bow x One Piece

Fandom: One Piece

Featured characters: Law, Corazon, Sanji, Ace, Crocodile x gn reader

Description: Someone is playing naughty Santa, leaving a gift only fit for the receiver’s eyes~

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3500 / ~700 per character

WARNINGS: | bondage | kidnapping | possessive / borderline yandere behaviour | dub con-ish? but not really | Doflamingo scare | kinky friends helping out lmao i love them all | gender neutral reader | not entirely spoiler free for baby fans | a smidge of sex bc obviously | merry christmas ya filthy animals~ |

Happiest of holidays nakamas! Random author notes just for the heck of it - I got my first one piece T-shirt the other day! The good print was on the back and I was definitely channeling Luffy the first time he tried to fix his hat, hacking off the collar and re-sewing it lmao. But it turned out! Comment for a pic 😋 In other news, Christmas is going to be… slow and quiet with older family members this year. Will I try to work on writing porn between conversations? Yes. Yes I will. Stay tuned for new year posts if I can get my act together! (This is an invitation to bully me into writing for you. Make it personal. I owe you like six requests and other stuff.) I hope you enjoy the season, my darlings! As always thank you for your likes, comments, and reblogs. They’re a gift ♥️

Trafalgar Law - It Will Always Be Yes

It all started with a game of poker. A cursed game that may well have been the most heavily cheated-in game ever played in that sea. A record was set somewhere, surely.

The cost of your loss? Penguin, Sachi, and Ikkaku’s devious grins were wide as ever as they told you to make yourself Law’s gift. Naked. Wrapped in ribbon.

The crew howled with laughter at your mortified expression. Only Bepo questioned whether the captain would prefer such a thing, only to be quickly shut down by the men’s fervent denials. He’s a guy. He may be tsundere and overly serious, but of course he’ll love it.

And so, you went into town on a docking trip, pouting as your crewmates dragged you off to find ribbon.

Law raised a brow at the bizarre display, completely unaware of the reason for your frazzled look. While he gathered supplies on the other side of town, he couldn’t get the sight out of his head. When you returned, he took you to the med-bay to check for a temperature.

In secret, your friends tried to help you figure out how to wrap it. In the end, Sachi’s method worked the best. (Suspiciously well.) Ikkaku promised to help you on the day of. Meanwhile, you and Bepo tried and failed to convince a crew mate to tell them how to cheat like that.

Law noticed your averted looks, your flushed skin, your fidgeting. He was so paranoid about it, that come christmas itself, you finally snapped at him. Telling him to leave you alone for a while. That you’d be ready to talk later.

You dragged Ikkaku off early to help you get ready, barely finishing in time before Law opened the door to his room.

He froze in the doorway, the sight of you on his bed surprising him. “What are you doing in my room? I thought you were mad at me. …Are you naked?”

“…Yes?”

His lips twisted into a disapproving glare. “You lost a bet, didn’t you?”

“…yes.”

A sigh. “Were you ever mad at me?”

“No. Are you mad?”

“…Yes.”

“Shit.”

He dropped his coat and sword, tossing his hat onto a chair. “That’s right. You’re in trouble now.”

You tried to move back off the bed, but he easily grabbed you and put you back in the center of it, straddling your hips. The whine you let out as he wrapped his hand around your throat just made him sigh.

“You shouldn’t be turned on by my threats.”

“…Sorry.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yes. …Your idiot?”

Another sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Despite his harsh words, his lips were on yours a moment later. As he leaned down, his hardness was unmistakeable against your barely covered skin.

His kiss was meant to punish, harsh as he let out his worry and hurt. You sucked on his tongue so dutifully though that his anger was quickly forgotten. His hands roamed your body, tattooed fingers teasing under the edges of the ribbon.

“You should have told me if you liked being tied up.” His grin turned into a wicked smirk. “Now I have a new way to punish you.”

He swallowed your whine with another overwhelming kiss, tossing his clothes on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Law. Didn’t mean to snap at you. I was just embarrassed. Do you like your present?”

His eyes met yours as he leaned back. The silence of that single second stretched on until he grabbed the ribbon across your chest, pulling it down to free your nipples.

“Of course I do. …Idiot.”

You whined as he roughly tugged the ribbon aside to gain access to you. “…mean.”

Briefly worried you meant it, he kissed you more sweetly. “But I love you.”

“I love you too. Merry christmas, Law- oh!”

You could feel his smirk against your skin as his hands reached someplace unholy. “Enough sappy sentiments. I have a present to open up.”

Donquixote Rosinante Corazon - Keep You Wrapped Tight

He’d rushed through his latest mission, annoyed with the busywork that was keeping him away from you on the eve of the biggest holiday of the year. Hurrying back to the Don Quixote compound, he fumbled with the keys as he hoped you wouldn’t be angry with him for arriving so late. He’d only planned to wash up and sail to the next island over - the city where you lived.

In the dark living room, his eyes slowly adjusted to the sight of weak candlelight scattered through the room. His nerves instantly started buzzing, and he locked the door behind him. Slowly, he worked down the hall to the bedroom, heart pounding, worried what sick joke his psychotic brother was playing at.

Your head lifted as he opened the door and you squirmed on the bed - wrapped head to toe in dark red ribbon, complete with one serving as a gag. The rose petals shifted and jumped on the mattress as you moved.

Corazon stood in the doorway, eyes wide as his mind scrambled to fill in the blanks. He knew it was unlikely Doflamingo hadn’t found out about you, but to see that he’d brought you here made his blood boil. He rushed forward to the bedside and clumsily knelt beside you.

He nearly forgot to put up a silence barrier before blurting out his concern. “Are you okay?! He didn’t hurt you did he?? I swear on our mother’s grave if he touched you-“

After removing the gag (a slow process given his shaking hands) you shook your head. “I’m okay, Cora… I’m sorry to scare you, love. I’m fine. Promise. Baby 5… wrapped the ribbon.”

He let out a sigh of relief and let his head fall to your chest. He tossed his hat and coat off as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping his long legs around yours.

“Uff, Cora… won’t you untie me first? I really need to stretch.”

He glanced down at you and remembered that your legs and arms are bound close to your body. “Right, of course. Sorry. Sorry…”

As his hands unwrapped the long ribbon, his fingertips started brushing against your bare skin the way he always did. “Wait… are you wearing anything under this…?”

Your silence and warming skin finished the job of getting his mind to catch up to the situation.

“Oh! Oh gods…! You- oh! OH! Shit…!” His big hands went to cover your sensitive places reflexively.

“Cora?! No one can see, what are you doing?”

He squeezed at your chest to gauge how much ribbon was covering you, barely holding back a groan as your soft flesh gave way under his hand. When he muttered in your ear, his voice was pained, strained and low. “…No one gets to see you like this. You’re mine. I’ll tear him apart if he touches you.”

A whine escapes your lips as his hands start greedily following the ribbons and mindlessly tugging them off. Only, sometimes it would tighten around you instead of loosening, making you gasp. His attention snapped to the present fully, and he tugged the ribbon between your legs again.

“What, you like that?” he breathed, kissing the soft spot beneath your ear. “Do you like the idea of being my Christmas present?”

“…Yeah, I do. I love you, Cora. If I can make you happy, then I’ll gladly be your present.”

You could hear his breath catch in his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you, crushing you in a tight hug before manhandling your still half-bound body back down onto the bed.

“You’re too good for me, baby. I’m going to make you forget he ever touched you. Gonna make you mine all night. Every damn inch.”

His voice was predatory and worshipful at once, desperate and protective. When he finally slipped the ribbon off your chest, your pert nipples hardening more in the cold air, he practically growled.

You should forget your plans now, because he won’t let you out of his sight until new year’s.

Blackleg Sanji - Always Hungry

The idea came up during girl’s tea on the Sunny. Brook (yes he is an honorary guest at girl’s tea) was the first to make the suggestion.

“It’s Sanji we’re talking about,” he said in that simple, straightforward way of his, elegantly drinking his tea. “He’ll love anything you do. But what he really wants is you.

Nami rolled her eyes so hard you were afraid she’d hurt herself. “Ugh, you’re gross. That’s not a real gift.”

Sipping her tea, Robin grinned. “I’m sure Sanji would appreciate the opportunity to not have to initiate, knowing full well what your answer is already.” Smirking over the top of the painted porcelain of the mismatched tea set, she looked at Nami again. “Though are you sure you wouldn’t enjoy such a gift from the right person? A princess, perhaps?”

The redhead sucked her lips and nodded her defeat. “…Whatever.”

Brook chuckled. “Yo ho ho! I might have studied knot tying during my time in the fog. I’d be happy to help you find your preferred method of ribbon tying.”

Robin gasped softly and turned to him. “You know shibari?”

He went quiet, raising his teacup. “…Is that what it’s called?”

The man in question came down the stairs with a fresh tray of pastries to deliver. “And what might we be discussing today, my lovely ladies? Brook.”

The blond set down the carefully prepared treats in front of you, his eyes warm and lingering.

“Nothing! Just regular small talk!”

“Contemplating the socio-psychological traditions surrounding the holidays.”

“Gross stuff that I refuse to help with.”

“…Oh.”

“Yo ho ho ho!”

After acquiring the velvet ribbon, practicing in secret, and securing Robin’s promise of assistance, you and Chopper decorated the guest bedroom before the crew’s festivities began.

You sat with Sanji at dinner, finally pulling him back to the table to stop serving everyone and eat himself. The meal was lively and busy, and he was up before anyone else to begin clean up.

Using the chance to slip away, Robin helped you set up in the guest room. She then returned to the kitchen. Her hands bloomed on the edge of the sink, overflowing with dishes and pots.

“Let me help you, Sanji. Consider it my Christmas present to you,” she insisted gently, already starting to wash them.

“I couldn’t possibly leave this monstrous mess to you-“

“You can and you will. I insist. By the way, your lover has a surprise waiting for you in the guest room.”

Sanji’s heart soared just at the mention of you, warring with his sense of duty as Robin washed dishes. But his feet carried him down the hall before his mind could decide entirely.

Knocking tentatively on the door, he was half surprised to hear your reply. “My dear? Are you here?”

“I am. Come in. And lock the door.”

His hands moved quickly to comply, glad for his haste as he stepped inside to see you laid out on the bed, wrapped and restrained in carefully looped and knotted velvet ribbon. The peeks of your dewy skin between the rich red made his heart pound, his hand flying to his face to catch the blood that would inevitably begin dripping in a moment.

He was so flustered that even your confidence wavered briefly. “M-merry Christmas, Sanji.”

His legs moved on their own to take him to the edge of the bed. He knelt between your legs off the side, his hands reverently tracing the ribbon as his greedy gaze took in every decadent inch of your carefully wrapped display.

“You look like heaven and sin, my darling…” Swallowing hard, he leaned closer so his hands could wander up your waist to the big bow tied across your chest. “Looks like unwrapping you might take a while,” he noted.

You nodded, overwhelmed by the hunger and barely restrained manic devotion in his expression. “I hope that’s okay.”

He chuckled. “Yes it is.” Standing up, he ran his hands down your arms as he leaned down close enough for your breaths to mingle. “Unwrapping you is my present. Tell me exactly what you want as I do, and that will be my present to you.”

His lips just brushed yours before he pulled back suddenly, eyes wide with panic. “Not that I didn’t get you a gift. I did! This is-“

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know, Sanji. I just want to make you happy. Even if you didn’t give me a gift, I just want to spend time with you.”

His hair fell over his eye, concealing his pinched expression as he groaned into your neck. “You’re too perfect, mon cœur. I’ve never loved a gift more. …Or loved a person more.” Kissing you properly this time, he sighed heavily. “I hope you can handle my love tonight. Because I’m giving you all of it.”

Firefist Ace - Glowing Love

Marco and Thatch suggested it. Because of course they did. Even as you protested, Whitebeard came around the corner, asking if you’d gotten that perfect gift for Ace yet. He grinned and tapped his fist against your shoulder, offering the fatherly advice that his son only needed to be loved. And someone had just received an absurdly large shipment of ribbon this morning for everyone’s presents, so wrapping it around yourself would be too easy.

The blond and redhead roared with laughter at your flushed glare. They dragged you to Marco’s office to practice… ending in a not-so graceful twisting collapse that could be heard from the deck above. What started with fake wrapping of bandages now turned into a real job, Thatch trying and failing to hold back his giggling as you fumed on the med table.

Of course Ace heard the ruckus and came in to investigate who’d gotten hurt, his protective mode engaging full force at the sight of Marco wrapping your ankle. You insisted it was only a little sprain, but Ace barely heard you, getting in Marco’s way to wrap his warm hands around it.

The doctor smacked him away, telling him to go get ice instead and threatening a fleet wide re-education lecture on how to properly treat injuries. As he ran out, flinching away from the swatting hands, Marco and Thatch quickly schemed with you (definitely not lazily wanting to use this as their easy way to gift their friend).

Marco kept you in the med bay the next day, sending Ace to shore with the others to get what Thatch needed for the feast. Marco helped you into the outskirts of town, renting a small beach house and quickly decorating it.

Come evening, he helped wrap you properly this time, a second ribbon still keeping your ankle braced. Then he set out to find Ace.

When the freckled man arrived at the house noted on the map, a note in the door told him to light the candles. Stepping inside, he saw the familiar orange slice and popcorn garlands that also decked the Moby Dick, accompanied by a trail of candles down the hall.

He snapped his fingers, ears perking up at the little sound of surprise he heard down the hall. Grinning broadly he rushed to the back room. Seeing you on the bed, he rushed over and ambushed you, jumping on top of you.

“Wait! Ace! Slow down.”

He chuckled and braced his hands on either side of your head. “Why should I? Oh, look at this~” His playful grin quickly morphed as his freckles became obscured by the flush on his cheeks. “Damn… Look at you, wrapped up all pretty for me.”

Straddling your hips, his fingertips wandered to the gaps between the ribbon, brushing against your bare skin.

“Surprise,” you offer with a small smile. “Merry christmas, Ace. …I know it’s lame to not get you an actual gift but, you’re… my gift. Life is so much better with you in it. And I hope I make your life better too. …Or else this is a pretty lame gift, heh.”

He stared down at you, expression serious for a long moment. Suddenly his lips are on yours and his hands are searching for the bow to begin untying the ribbon. “You don’t know how much it means to me. I love you too. So much.”

Sliding his hand beneath the ribbon between your legs, he hissed at the feeling of your wetness. “Fuck… So this is your gift, hm? Gonna let me use you to feel good?” His mouth found your nipple that had slipped out of the ribbon, latching onto it greedily. “And I’m gonna make you feel so good too.”

Already his hips were rolling into yours, impatient and overwhelmed by the sight of you, the taste of your skin.

“The perfect gift,” he groaned between messy kisses. “Thank you.”

Sir Crocodile - Break Time

What do you get for a business master who has his secretary order everything he needs? Who fights black market wars for anything he wants?

You watched him across the table at yet another meeting before the holidays. He’s overworked, stressed, and always in a bad mood lately. The numbered agents shrunk under his cutting rebukes and insults, ending with his portfolio tossed across the table. As you hastily gathered up the papers, Daz Bones stood with a sigh.

“He can’t keep on like this,” he muttered.

“What can we do?” you ask, concerned.

He considers you for a long moment. “I might have an idea. But you’d end up bearing the brunt of his wrath.”

Your eyes widened at that. “How does the topic of ‘helping’ him end with his wrath?! Daz, be serious.”

He merely blinked at you. “Pack a weekend bag.” Without another word, he walked away, leaving you with the secretary who was urgently looking for you.

“Wait, Daz!” But he was long gone already.

Your anxiety was at a high as the bank holiday approached - the only way to make Crocodile take a day off against his will. You watched over your shoulder for both your lover and his terrifying right hand, unsure of what to do - or of what might be done without your knowledge.

And that night, it happened. As you entered your room, a strong hand clamped over your mouth with a rag.

Some time later, you awoke in a place that was familiar to you - Crocodile’s favourite resort house. Blinking awake, you saw Daz talking to two maids.

“Daz…! Why did you knock me out?”

He glanced back at you and shrugged. “Didn’t want to deal with your anxiety for ten hours. Now take a bath.”

He didnt wait for you to reply, leaving the room with the two women. Once you were in the bath, they returned, setting out oils, lotion, and rose petals. Most curiously, one began unwinding a roll of gold-lined green velvet ribbon.

The women likewise didn’t listen to protests as they helped you dry off, styling your hair and making you shine.

Then they guided you to the bed and started winding the ribbon around you.

“Wait what?! You can’t be serious!”

The door opened a bit and Daz poked his head in. “Ten minutes. His ship is approaching.”

“Daz! Daz Bones get back here you-! Ugh! Won’t anyone listen to me?”

You pouted as the women hurried off, leaving you completely bound in the ribbon on the bed.

Heavy footfalls made your heart speed up. Crocodile opened the door and froze.

You didn’t dare say anything. His eyes narrowed and he puffed his cigar.

“The hell is this?”

“…Your christmas present?”

His eyes never left you as he approached the bed. Putting out his cigar in the ash tray on the nightstand, he shed his heavy coat and rolled up his sleeves. Your heart clamoured in your chest, your squirming making the ribbon slip. His eyes honed in on the revealed skin.

“This is my present?” His voice was low and soft. A dangerous thing.

“…Yes sir.”

He ran his hook along your ankle, letting it slide beneath the ribbon. “You didn’t arrange this yourself, though.”

“I had help.”

“Mm. I’ll have to give him that holiday bonus after all,” he mused as he climbed onto the bed. Hooking the curved metal under the lowest point of your chest, he used the ribbon to lift you close enough to kiss.

When he finally broke away, you were panting. “Crocodile? Do you think we can enjoy a holiday together here? You’ve been so far away lately…”

He lowered you back onto the bed, bracing his hand next to your head. “Is that what you want?”

You nod. “I don’t even care about gifts. All I want is you. For you to really be here with me… Please?”

He rumbled a reply, leaning down to kiss your exposed shoulder. “If that’s what you really want, sweetheart. I’ll enjoy my gift thoroughly.”

You gasped as the tip of the hook tore through the ribbon, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“But you know I like to break my toys~ Hope you’re ready.”

[tonycries]

Internet Girl - C.K.

Synopsis. On campus? Choso Kamo’s the sweet, shy nerd you share film class with - the one who can barely meet your eyes without blushing. Online? Choso Kamo is really @cursed(your)wombz—the #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends with 820k followers to see his…nine inches. And he might just be looking for a partner.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, streamer!Choso, (sort of) B́J Alex AU, cámboy!Choso, college AU, he’s a nerd, film nerd!Choso, secret identities, masks, píercings (ears, tóngue, D), tattoos, chat, streaming, you’re a fan, identity reveal, exhíbitíonism, oraI (fem rec.), again PlERCINGS, tongue f, spítting, p sIapping, p talking, letting the viewers choose, fíngering with rings, overstím, dúmbifícation, Jacob’s Ladder, rough s, fiIthy s, he’s sIightly mean, tummy buIges, making it fit, pressing down, talking you through it, cIit pinching, pússydrúnk Choso, matíng presses, chokíng, manhandIing, mocking, sIight níppIe stim, creampíes, chat Iove you, cúmpIay, getting together, Phantom of the Opera references, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 14.9k

A/N. Hehehehehe-

Sunday was the night you’d found him; sprawled out on your bed and thumbing through the Internet. Some glitzy pop song you couldn’t name blasted from your speakers, and the room was saturated in the tingly excitement of having speedy Wi-Fi, no assignments, and the night to yourself. LED lights pink.

You’re checking some of your messages - doling out a few hearts, a few reposts - when that bell-shaped button bursts in blue. A new notification.

@cursed(your)wombz liked your repost.

It was on a photograph of the Sun—big and yellow, seemingly melting over a grey horizon.

Which was perfectly ordinary- this was the Internet, after all. And though your list of followers was modest, of course you’d interact with a stranger here and there.

The problem was in the way the notification disappeared as soon as it came.

An…accident maybe? This person had liked and unliked your repost. And without a second thought, you’re typing their username into the search bar.

And clicking on their profile.

@cursed(your)wombz huh?

He had a pitch-black profile picture and a layout with nothing of note, a banner as equally colorless and unnotable, and a simple bio stating: 

I know what you want…

- C.

And beneath that was a link.

It stood out stark against the black background. You don’t click on it, of course- for fear of being something malicious, you’re avoiding it like you’d avoid a minefield. 

You’ve already heard one too many horror stories on here about such things. One click and you’d find your address posted somewhere. Instead, your eyes drop to the number of followers he had…and your eyebrows are immediately shooting up.

0 Following.

581k Followers.

Now that makes you blink.

Okay- alright, maybe it wasn’t the most astounding number you’ve ever seen throughout your expansive time on the Internet - but it was still niche celebrity-status. Especially on this app. Especially to be stalking an account like yours…where all you did was repost the stray picture of a pretty landscape or yell into the aether about your missing assignments for your friends to comment on. 

Now that was a little strange.

And so you’re scrolling down.

And you never quite know what you’re in for whenever you enter the realm of a person’s account—fanfiction with tags you never knew existed, one part of an argument on social media that really shouldn’t exist, mpreg. 

Which was all fine and dandy to be quite honest- you just never expect to be met with the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The first picture you’re seeing- pinned.

Posted just an hour ago. It’s a mirror selfie taken at a low angle; of a man with his body angled towards the lens and his phone covering his face. In nothing but a towel. With nothing but his chiselled body. His beefy arms flexed as he takes the picture, biceps rippled with a few veins—though still lean and almost smooth to the touch. Pierced nipples. Defined abs. Your eyes linger on the sparse dusting of dark hair leading below, below, below his fluffy white towel…

The picture cuts off just a few inches past his navel. You know because you’re enlarging it.

The photo is almost vampiric in nature.

Somehow. 

Dimly-lit. Beautiful—he clearly knew his angles and lighting. It’s slightly blurry and you can’t make out much of the man’s features - nothing more than the slender length of his fingers, silver rings, and the outline of his dark (perhaps brown?) hair. Touching his shoulders. From just above the hem of his towel, the amorphous blur of a tattoo snakes down his left v-line - and no matter how much you’re zooming in, you can’t quite figure out what it is. 

Something twists at the pit of your stomach as you’re latching your eyes onto the very obvious bulge he was sporting through the towel - very.

The flash created a shadow of his lengthy cock—oh. Hanging between thick thighs, heavy and needy. And it also illuminated the slight dampness clinging onto his body; perhaps he’d just gotten out of the shower, or was about to take on after a workout. 

Whichever scenario it was, both made your thighs clench- fuck.

Fingers slightly shaky, you’re exiting out of the picture and scrolling down for more. 

The next post is a video seemingly taken from the very same instance: it was from the point of view of the beautiful man. Facing downwards, as he zoomed the camera in on his bulge and ran one vein-covered, ringed hand down his abs- down his pelvis- down to that throbbing erection and squeezed himself through his towel. 

And then through your speakers echoes out the most pornographic moan. 

Thank goodness your dorm had thick walls. 

And that’s when you decide that you’ve seen enough.

Not enough as in enough enough to block this strange man and move on with your life- of course, not. As quickly as your fingers would possibly let you, you’re exiting out of the video and scrolling up to a bio that seemed to have more to hide than the first time you read through it. 

The link stands mockingly stark - almost winking at you - against the dark background. You think you know what it is.

And you click on it.

Suddenly, your laptop screen’s flooding with a gaudy pink color. A loading circle swivels in the middle of it for a few seconds, before you’re met with a logo in swooping, slanted black script: C4mBoyfriends. Better than that boy in your dms.

Rapidly, you’re opening up a new tab and typing in the name.

“C4mBoyfriends is an adult streaming platform that hosts webcam performers that choose to label themselves as male. Here they can stream live video, post photographs, and interact on forums with a wide array of paying viewers—for a range of content catering to specific niches or sexual roleplays. C4mBoyfriends, since its recent launch, has shot up in the industry as one of the most-visited adult sites and the safest for its performers. All cuts go to the performers themselves and the site runs on separate donations from its audience.”

Ah- you’d guessed right.

Excitement burbles at the pit of your stomach for a few seconds. You’re clicking back onto the tab with the pink logo, and finding that it’d stopped loading.

It was in the layout of a streaming device, with static images of ongoing streams on one side of the platform, and different pages listed out on top. But what took up the majority of your screen was the vision of the very same man from before- from the mirror selfie, from the video.

This time, it was a stream.

@cursed(your)wombz is streaming—#1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends [101 week streak]. [Only solo]. Your internet boyfriend <3

0 Subscribed.

820k Subscribers.

455k Currently watching.

This time, he had his towel lifted up and his hands fisted around his fat cock.

Perfectly angled. 

Your jaw drops. He was about eight- maybe more inches, though you weren’t in the state to count. Way too entranced by the way his veiny, ring-decorated hands were wrapped around his cock. Large. He was just so loooong and standing tall between wide-spread legs, shiverin’ every time he’s gliding his hand up and down. Up and down. 

Again and again.

Getting faster by the second before he arches-

The edge of his thumb’s reaching for his ruby-red crown—then smearing the glistening liquid that just kept on foaming from the top. He lathers it upon his palm and drags it down his hot erection, making every inch gleam underneath the off-camera lighting.

You’re clicking on a button to increase your volume.

And just in time, too, because then he snakes his left hand down and squeezes his heavy balls- letting out a botched groan that leaves your shorts oh-so-wet. 

Deep and guttural; there’s a slight quiver in them as he whispers. “F-fuck.” Just so full and sensitive—the man’s head tips backwards and his hips buck off the cushioned chair. Sluttily. As though he was fucking something invisible. It’s creaking ever-so-slightly as he settles back down, composing himself just a little bit before he starts cumming.

Pearly white droplets of cum. 

Beading from the very top of his shaft - where he was the most pink n’ angry - shaking as he empties out. Globs of it start to glide down his length, and a few more collect where his silver Prince Albert’s piercing was positioned right beneath his mushroomy tip.

You’re just letting your eyes linger upon that little heap of satiny sap, when the man thumbs upwards and smears that, too. Such a mess.

And you think that might be all- but then he’s reaching his non-dominant hand upwards and pressing down on his frothing cockhead. Stopping himself from cumming - and as he leans to the side, you swear you’re glimpsing the twinkle of even more piercings on the upper side of his shaft. Was that…a Jacob’s ladder?

You’re rendered so damn speechless that you almost don’t register him speaking- “Awwww, did my pretty sluts wanna watch me cum?” 

A shiver runs down your spine at the hitched tone of his voice- drunk on lust. He’s slightly slurring. So alluring, you almost catch yourself nodding.

“Well, too bad.” The man meanly snickers, before he’s suddenly reaching out with his non-dominant hand and angling it higher. The screen shifts to display that very same mouth-watering body from the picture—though, this time with the addition of a black-and-white mask that covered his features from forehead to his sharp jawline. 

The only opening in it was a concave cutout for his mouth - almost reminiscent of a Phantom of the Opera mask. In the background was a clearly expensive bedroom of a clearly expensive home - far different from your single dorm - an artwork that you couldn’t name on the wall behind him. Something like a photograph or a portrait. Something about it was so precise- so cinematic. Like watching a movie scene. He continues, “Because you know why? You don’t deserve it.”

There’s a flurry of comments on one side of the screen, so fast that you wonder how he reads it.

“Didn’t I tell you to spam me with your nastiest stories in the chat?” He asks, and from beneath his mask you catch the outline of dark eyes shifting down those hurried words. Those needy comments. “None of you are nasty enough, so none of you get to see me cum…”

You’re tearing your eyes off of him to peruse what they were saying.

@girrrrrrrrrrth: nuuuuuu please, curse! i’ll get on my knees!!

@vampzo333: me too ME TOO

@likezmenpregnant: My story about the body pillow wasn’t nasty enough? TT

@CCpervnextdoor: AWWWW I’m begging~

@Curse’swifey: I’LL PAY YOU EXTRA PLEASEEEEEEE

@Curse’swifey donated 500 cherries.

“Tch- what a desperate bunch. Just fucking look at yourselves…” And though his words weren’t in the least bit nice, you couldn’t deny just how badly he made your cunt twinge. 

Curse…that’s what his name was, huh?

You’re squeezing your thighs together- your sleep shorts were definitely soaked. 

Curse rolls out the kinks in his neck just a little, and stares down at the camera with a crooked grin. “But that’s not gonna be enough. I said to be nasty- so be nasty.” The active chat becomes nothing but a blur once more: pleas, donations, stories half-typed in their urgency. “And in return I’ll moan whatever name you want me to moan when I cum.”

Before you know it, you’re opening up the sign-up page in a new tab.

Keeping Curse’s livestream playing in the background as you zip through your details. You’re picking out a username for yourself: Ietsmakeamovie and hastily going back to the ongoing stream with your newfound handle. Was it too obvious to make it the same username as your other account? The one that he had stalked?

Fuck- you’re too wound up to think of something else at this point. You decide that you’ll change it later…

Luckily, Curse’s stream didn’t have a paying threshold before you could comment. And you’re jittery with excitement as you pull the laptop closer to yourself and start typing out something—hitting send before you could overthink it.

@Ietsmakeamovie: Seeing you is the first time I’ve gotten this wet.

Curse’s eyes drift down the chat, and he seems to latch onto something. Eyes widening just a fraction.

“The first time?”

Fuck.

You’re feeling a jolt at the way he addresses you - never expecting him to pick out that comment amongst tens of thousands of others that were uttering even filthier things. Curse leans in and speaks with his deep tone, “Those other boys didn’t know how to treat a perfect pussy like yours, huh? This is why they call me the Internet boyfriend, baby.”

@Ietsmakeamovie: Yeah.

@Ietsmakeamovie: Fuck, you’re so hot.

@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t even wanna look away to touch myself.

You feel embarrassed typing it all out - but you console yourself with the notion that no one here knows who you are. And you don’t know anyone here, either.

Curse leans back and starts pumping his cock even harder—taking his left hand off the drivelling top. His milky-white precum is frenzied n’ sticks to his hand like glue, and the chat grows more and more excited as Curse’s actions do the same.

“That’s alright, baby, you don’t have to finger yourself.” He chuckles, eyes locked on the comments. “I’d be doing that for you if I was there.”

@Ietsmakeamovie: Wish you were. You’d reach so much deeper.

@Ietsmakeamovie donated 1000 cherries.

“Fuh-fuck—” He hisses, head throwing back in his chair. You take the time to admire the lines of his prominent Adam’s apple - the way it bobs every time he’s taking a shaky swallow. “No need to donate or anything, baby, just keep- ngh, talking t’me like this and that’s enough…”

@0003h0lesforCurse: holy shit. i’ve never seen him like this.

@CCpervnextdoor: Needy Curse I like it~

@bewbsRlife: KEEP GOING OP KEEP GOING!!

You giggle to yourself.

@Ietsmakeamovie: Enough to make you cum, Curse?

“Greedy, greedy girl…” Through the slightest gaps in his mask you’re catching the way his nose crinkles in amusement. A wolfish smile. “S’that what you all want?”

The chat explodes in agreement.

He cocks his head, “Movie?”

Was that your new nickname now? Hastily, you reply-

@Ietsmakeamovie: Mhm.

“Well then…” He grins, toned body arching off the chair. “Get ready for a show—” Darkened gaze narrowing at the comments, “And you better not take your eyes off of me for a single second- hump your damn pillows if you have to. I don’t care.”

Quickly grabbing your own puffy pillow, you’re stuffing it between your legs.

Right as Curse lets his head loll backwards- and his cum drizzles out of his cock. He’s been edging the poor viewers and overstimulatin’ himself for so fucking long now—all it takes is a few pumps to let the cascade of white coat his hands and his rings. Just the slightest bit of silver peaking through.

Hard and fast.

The man’s cockhead flushes even redder as he drags his high out deliciously. Every burst of dopamine. Every heaving pant. Every pretty moan escaping him. 

It seems to be ramming into him in waves- gooey ribbons of seed coat his digits. Getting smeared like a gloss across eeeeevery single inch, ridge, and vein—and since Curse’s pace was something furious, a few globs of cum splatter across the towel and onto his thighs. A mess that he’s seeming to love.

Because in the next few seconds, he’s wrung out just the final bits of pleasure in him- and is raising his cum-coated fingers up to his mouth and sucking. Staring straight into the camera lens as he does so.

You’re watching slack-jawed as those long, lacquered digits disappear between his lips. Finishin’ them off squeaky clean and letting his head tip to the side.

He mouths, “Movie—”

Part of your username.

Though you hadn’t asked for him to moan your name, as he’d promised to do to one of the viewers had they been nasty enough. And this special treatment…

Maybe he did it to every new viewer. Maybe he just liked how much you complimented him- though everyone else did, too. Either way, it’s perhaps what sets off the bursts of electricity between your legs—and soon enough you’re hurtling into a high you hadn’t even realized had been building up and up and up.

Your lashes flutter shut as the orgasm overtakes you. 

Hips ruttin’ away into the plushness of your pillow- you wonder just how much better riding him would be…

And that’s setting off a whole new layer of dopamine at your core, your cunt quiverin’ as white-hot pleasure makes your heartbeat throb in your ears. Chest pounding. Breaths heavy.

By the time you’ve finished pushing through your high, you’re coming to find that Curse had somewhat cleaned himself up with the towel and was bantering back n’ forth with the chat. He rests his head on one hand and sweeps his eyes down the usernames, “What happened to dear Movie, huh?” Curse pretends to pout. “The first stream wasn’t too much for her, right?”

@girrrrrrrrrrth: kekekeke you’re too freaky, curse!!

@CCpervnextdoor: So dirty~

@daddytoeknee: Must thank Movie for the show though…

Urgently, you’re gathering yourself and tapping a few buttons on-screen.

@Ietsmakeamovie subscribed to @cursed(your)wombz. 

@Ietsmakeamovie donated 2500 cherries.

@Ietsmakeamovie: It’d never be too much.

“Ahhh, there you are.” Such a beautiful smile smears across his face, and Curse’s leaning in to take a closer look at the comments. “And thank you for subscribing, same time tomorrow?”

You’re unsure whether that was directed at you or everyone viewing- but you’re chiming in agreement alongside the rest of the comments. And Curse reads through them, lingering for just a little while longer before he grins.

“Heh- bye, sluts.”

And he covers the camera, the stream cuts off. 

Yet your heart still thunders.

Ignoring the time at the bottom of your laptop screen, you’re then clicking on his profile and scrolling through what other videos he had…

.

.

.

It was your fault that you kept dozing off.

Honestly. 

You should have known better- and you know that you should’ve known better…but you couldn’t help yourself. After Curse’s initial stream, you spent some time browsing through the numerous photographs and short clips that he’d posted; there were even some saved streams that were each dirtier than the last—each with his attractive mask and his even more attractive voice, his sensual cock getting pumped over and over for the audiences.

And so you’d left a few comments, a few hearts.

Throughout all of them, you made the peculiar discovery that they were all more high-quality than the last. The standard of being the #1 on the site, you guess. But the lighting and angles were all just so perfect…

You’d watched them for just a little while- at least, what you’d thought was a little while. Because by the time you’re realizing that your laptop battery was dying, and your eyes were tired, you’re turning your head in the direction of the dorm windows and- fuck.

Why was the Sun coming up?

And so you’d rushed to get at least half an hour of sleep before you had to get up for your 8AM lecture. 

Professor Yaga taught Film 101 as though he was trying to scare everyone off it. Rigorous coursework and never-altered deadlines. Though you yourself wouldn’t consider him an unreasonable man, it was impertinent to be punctual and alert in his classes - and right now, you were feeling neither of those. 

By the grace of the universe, you’re somehow managing to stumble into class just two minutes after it starts. It’s not enough to rouse Yaga’s anger - and either way, you had made a name for yourself as one of his most avid students - though it does get you a sternly raised brow as you apologize and take the nearest open seat.

Just-so-happening to be in the very last row. 

At the very forgotten corner.

Right beside who you knew to be Yaga’s actually most avid student—Choso Kamo.

Had it been a race between the two of you - perhaps between the entire department - Choso would have finished five times before anyone’s even stepping past the finish line. You would’ve gotten second. And that wasn’t to diminish your abilities in any way - you’d long since proven yourself to be one of the best students this course had even seen - it’s just…Choso was a film nerd through and through. 

If there was anyone that could live up to such a title, then it was him.

Choso lived, slept, and breathed film and television. He could name any television show around the world with just a single frame, and most he could recite line-for-line. Oh, that? He learned Korean just to immerse himself in that scene in Parasite. That scene? It was from the 1957 Sri Lankan film Amba Yahaluwo, by the way did you know that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed there, too?

Knitted vest. Hair in two messy space buns. 

Clunky glasses rested atop his nosebridge, and dark bangs covering most of his vision, you’d often see him tottering around campus with a column of books that was damn-near taller than him. And despite his towering demeanour - from your mental counting, Choso was around 6’2 or more - around most of the student body, he was the type that couldn’t meet your eyes no matter how many classes you shared with him.

Even now, as you seated right next to him and smiled- Choso softly yelps and turns away from.

You don’t take it personally, of course, as he was simply the shy type. And by the flush that rises to his high cheekbones, you know he - at the very least - doesn’t dislike you.

Situating yourself, you’re opening your bag and pulling out your laptop. Opening it- fuck.

The briefest flash of one of Curses’s previous streams—where he had his cock in his hands and his face contorted mid-ecstasy flashes across your screen. And you can’t slam your laptop shut fast enough- cracking it just the slightest bit to exit out of the numerous tabs, fingers nothing but a blur. Thank fuck your volume hadn’t been set on high.

Head ducked, you’re looking out from the corner of your eye to check whether Choso had seen anything. 

But if he did, he shows no indication.

Only keeping his back ramrod straight- his gaze ahead- his flush fiery as he listens to whatever Yaga was saying. 

And so you think you’re in the clear…for now…

Opening your laptop up once more, you’re logging onto your lecture platforms and attempting to forget about last night. Which was difficult when that smile upon Curse’s face, just beneath his mask - was the only thing running through your mind.

And before you know it, you’d been staring blankly at your screen for a few seconds—before Choso inches in just a centimeter closer. Unwilling to let himself take up even more space. He keeps his eyes trained ahead and his voice - fuck, you’d never heard his voice before but it was just so deep and measured, something you wouldn’t have expected out of him - low. 

Whispering to you, “H-he’s on Chapter 18 of Stone Butch Blues, we’re about to write a screenplay for the zoo scene.” 

“Ah…” You don’t know whether you’re more surprised at the timbre of his voice or the way he managed a proper sentence out to you. All your previous attempts at conversation throughout the semester had been futile—and you’d long resigned yourself to the idea that he was too nervous to ever talk to you. “Th-thank you.”

He doesn’t answer but nods in shy acknowledgement.

And as you’re opening up your file, you bask in the realization that Choso Kamo was actually hot underneath those glasses. If only you could see his features further…

Maybe you’re being a little delirious. Your eyes feel heavy. 

Heavy.

Heavier. 

Tap-tap-tap.

A shake.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

A warm hand on your shoulder, by the time you’re opening your eyes- you’re looking up into even warmer, molten chocolate-colored ones. They were framed by fawny eyelashes and thick glasses that made his shy gaze seem ever-so-slightly amplified. 

You think you’re stunned for a few seconds before Choso speaks, “U-um…class is over.”

“Oh.” That makes you dart your head up and look around, noticing that most of the students had filtered in or were in the process of already doing so. “Oh, shit-”

You’d seriously slept through all that?

And Yaga had left you alive?!

No, you weren’t going to question this act of mercy—thank goodness for the last row, because he likely hadn’t been able to see you. Shooting upright, you’re grabbing all your things and hoping you hadn’t snored next to the sweet boy - “Thank you so much for waking me.” You’re turning towards him and saying, earnestness seeping into your tone. “Knowing me, I would’ve slept right through till next class. Might actually have been more convenient.”

He startles into a laugh then raises a hand up to his mouth and quietens himself down, “It’s alright.” You’re staring closely at the little bells of laughter, and he turns his eyes downwards. Bashfully admitting, “Happens to me too, whenever I stay up um- studying. Long night?”

You sigh, “You could say that…” Not a long night studying, but…

And as the conversation quietens down and Choso worries down on his bottom lip, you’re hiking your backpack up on your shoulders and saying. “Well, I guess I should be going then. Catch up on the recordings of the lecture and everything-” Turning, “See you ‘round—and thanks again.”

You make all of five steps before Choso finally gathers up the courage to call out-

“Wait—!”

Confused, you’re facing him once more. “Yes?”

And his hand was out, his fingers were slightly trembling. He was mouthing out the words as though still debating whether to speak them into existence - whether he was capable of. “I…we-” Eventually mustering up the courage once you give a reassuring nod, “When will we meet up?”

That makes you pause.

Was he…

“F-for the assignment.” Choso clarifies, a flush rising to his cheeks as he likely realizes he should’ve led with that. “Professor Yaga’s mid-semester project he always does…”

Ah—you’re clapping a palm on your forehead. How could you have forgotten? Yaga had announced at the start of the semester that about halfway through, the class would be paired up or put into groups to work on a collaborative project that contributed to about 50% of your grade. This semester, it was to write a full-length movie screenplay for a book or musical of your choice. And you’d been excited for it, in fact, but after the…activities of last night it’d completely slipped your mind that he’d be delving more into it this lecture.

And the poor boy stumbles through his explanation, “H-he let everyone choose their partners, and I wanted to wake you up but…you just looked so peaceful.” He fidgets with his fingers and flushes, “I th-thought one of your friends would come up here and choose you but-”

Probing him gently, “But?”

“B-but I’m afraid you ended up paired with me.” Choso just looks so genuinely apologetic- “I’m sorry- no one picked me either. I should’ve woken you up, but we can go talk with Professor Yaga about changing partners if you’d like-”

“Hey—wait.” You’re cutting off his spiel, something in your chest aching at the utterly devastated furrow between his brows. You take a step closer to him, “I would love to do the project with you, Choso. No need to talk to Yaga about anything.”

He looks up at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “B-but your friends…”

“I don’t really have close friends in this class, anyway.” You smile, “I’d much rather do it with you.”

“Really—?” Breathed. As if he couldn’t believe it.

And it’s after some time - and a deep inhale - that he speaks again. Finally sinking in that someone would choose him of all people—that you would, that he speaks again. “And um- would you like to work on the script at my place?” Before you can answer, his breath hitches and his head shoots up. “N-not that I’m pressuring you into…it’s nothing weird, I promise! We can meet anywhere else you like- the library, your place- wait, no that’s weird, too…”

“Choso- Choso.” You giggle. And if this was anyone else then you would’ve assumed that they were putting the moves on you. “I’m okay with your place.”

.

.

.

The apartment was a fair distance away from the campus dorms. 

Which made sense, you suppose, given the fact that less than half the people there would be able to afford the rent on such a place—especially after tuition. The highrise dove into the clouds, its vermicular body scaled in glistening windows and gold-accented furnishings within. You got the distinct feeling of being swallowed whole as you entered through the widely-gaped entrance, with several doormen and security that eyed you up and down, bowed at Choso.

You thanked them and made your way - slightly speechless - through the hallways.

This was everything you could ever dream of, and you’re sure you spot the odd actor or two down in the lobby. As you’re getting into an elevator the size of your entire dorm room, Choso punches in one of the highest floor numbers and turns to you-

Throughout the bus ride here, you’d been the one chattering away. And so it surprises you once he finally speaks, “I-I’m sorry…my place is a bit of a mess.”

“Can’t be as bad as mine. I won’t judge.” Who cares about a mess when he lives in a place like this? You couldn’t wait to go inside…

He pushes his chunky glasses upwards and gives you a shy smile, “Thank you.” Looking down at his polished shoes, “You’re so sweet.”

“Thank you.” 

And you rise upwards in silence.

Soon enough, you’re finding yourself being led up to his massive apartment. He’s punching in the numbers of the code and setting his backpack down—telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you shuffle inside awkwardly; past the lavish furnishings and the alien-shaped lamps that all rich places seemed to boast. 

He leads you in the direction of the master bedroom - where Choso said that his film collection was vast and likely to reveal techniques that the two of you would be able to incorporate into your own script.

“I even have a copy of Momijigari- it’s one of my most prized possessions.” He shoots you such a charming smile, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, over his shoulder. Heading inside. 

And you can’t help but follow.

A single step inside his not-so-humble abode and you’re feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu wash over you, rendering you unsteady on your feet. Not quite sure why, you’re sweeping your eyes around the space: the high-quality camera equipment in one corner (not unusual to see for a film student), the chic furnishings, and then over to the empty wall space above the king-sized bed, something in you remained dissatisfied as they find nothing there but white plaster.

Choso notices that you’ve stalled behind and looks over at you curiously—he was taking a seat on the carpet, laptop opened up on top of the coffee table. “Something wrong? I’m sorry, I know it’s really messy but-”

“No, you’re good.” You shake your head, “It’s actually not messy enough.”

He smiles.

That night, you went home and wondered why Choso’s smile looked so familiar.

.

.

.

The musical that you’d chosen for your ‘adaptation’ was The Phantom of the Opera, suggested by you, of course.

And if there had been any connection to the masked man you’d been watching the night prior, then you were just glad that Choso had no idea.

It was far easier, given the fact that it’d already been adapted from the initial novel—though that only meant that Yaga would be critiquing yours even harder. 

So you had to strive to be more cinematic, than the others in your class, stronger in ways than the ones before you - and though you doubt you’d ever match up to Schumacher’s visuals, there was little doubt as to whether you’d be the best amongst the students. This was a screenplay made to impress, and in the week since you’d pored over it—and Choso Kamo’s mahogany coffee table typing away at it, you only grew more determined in the fact. And throughout the week, you’ve been flitting in and out of that very apartment of his.

Choso had been a lovely partner for the project - the best you could’ve ever asked for - and you’re coming to find that he was actually far more funny than anyone ever gave him credit for. Far more open. Far more active when it came to something he was passionate about.

And of course, you knew that he’d be sweet.

Despite his initial insistence that he could do the project himself, you’d taken up half the work. And you’d joined him in browsing through his massive catalogue of movies, in searching up screenplays to read, and in annotating them for techniques when starting to write yours.

You’ve come to make friends with one of the doormen by now. 

Just today you’d watched the 2004 Phantom of the Opera adaptation. And after a few hours of occupying his space and getting to know the nerdy boy a little better, you’d go straight back home to…Curse.

Whenever Choso made you feel tingly with his sweetness, Curse would amplify that heat to right between your legs. 

It’s been a week of getting to know Choso Kamo, and a week of having Curse splashed across your laptop screen—cock furiously hard n’ his moans echoing. He’d smile and utter your username whilst wearing his iconic mask and it’d be a high strong enough to follow into the day after. And often Choso would ask you what you’re so happy about.

Today, in particular, Curse had just finished one of his streams - cumming aaaaaall over the desk this time - when he’d settled himself back down and started chatting with the comments. Responding to one or two of yours.

You’re just about to joke about why he was sticking so long after his orgasm when he speaks once more- 

Voice somewhat serious, “Alright, now…settle down, settle down.” Curse waves his hand airily at the camera, throwing a middle finger up when the chat only gets more frenzied. “Tch- what brats you all are, would you wanna roleplay that someday?”

@vampzo333: YES PLEASE.

@likezmenpregnant: How about you be the brat…?

@Ietsmakeamovie: I would like that. 

@sixeyesorsixh0les: ^^

@0003h0lesforCurse: ^

“Fine fine…” Underneath the mask, he rolls his eyes fondly. “But I really do have something to announce-”

@likezmenpregnant: You’re pregnant.

@Ietsmakeamovie: I’m the father-

@Curse’swifey: NO MEEEEEEEEEEE!!

“I’m thinking of getting a partner for these streams.” He finally admits, rubbing his chin as though still in thought. And your heart stops-

@bipplruletheworld: so down.

@Cursenoticeme44: Omg yeeeeeeeeees!!

@daddytoeknee: YESYESYES.

The chat practically explodes, and you’re unsure what to feel about it—after all, you don’t know Curse and it’d be strange to feel a little possessive over his solo streams, however, you did have your preferences. But then again, you can’t help but imagine just how much hotter it would be to have two people- perhaps to see him make expressions he never has before…

Ultimately, you’re quiet as Curse leans in and scans the chat. His brows furrow just a little as he sweeps through the blurring usernames, “I dunno…I’m still thinking about it- I haven’t even asked this person, to be honest. I just wanted to know what you guys thought.” Nodding his head along or huffing out laughter at some of the comments, “Movie?”

You jolt—at being called out.

He wanted your opinion specifically? You suppose you did contribute to about half his comment section most streams.

But you stall as your fingers reach for the keyboard. 

Biting down on your lip and contemplating for a little while. Though he waits as patiently as ever-

@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t mind!!

Something seems to wash over him as he reads your comment, nodding. “I see.” 

He moves onto something else and his expression was indiscernible. 

You’re flickering your eyes to the artwork behind him, the small corner of it peaking into the frame, and it suddenly hits you that it’s the theatrical poster of The Phantom of the Opera (2004).

.

.

.

It can’t be.

It can’t be.

It can’t be.

There’s something your brain was telling you that you’re absolutely refusing to believe—after all, how many people in the world loved The Phantom of the Opera? Hell, how many people in the world have watched The Phantom of the Opera?

That didn’t mean that everyone you came across had a secret identity as one of the hottest streamers on C4mBoyfriends.

You were being paranoid, you told yourself. You were being utterly silly- and the next time you’re going over to Choso’s apartment was the very next day. Which wasn’t entirely ideal, given how much you’d tossed and turned after Curse’s last stream conjuring up all the possibilities…but Yaga wouldn’t accept a request for an extension even if you were set on fire in front of him. And so you went.

The pit of your stomach twists as Choso swings the lavish wooden door open and gives you a beaming smile. So innocent. So sweet.

He shakily pushes his glasses up as he welcomes you in. “Come in—s-sorry if I took a while to get to the door, I’ve been doing some decorating recently.”

His nervous smile is what makes you find your voice. And you’re dubiously looking around the luxurious apartment, “You need to do some decorating?”

“Believe it or not, yes.” Choso huffs. “Would you like something to drink? Or maybe to eat? I checked out that bakery you recommended last time and you’re right- they have the best Danish pastries.”

“Actually, Choso…” You’re shaking your head, shooting him a grateful smile. “I’m good. I’d think I’d prefer to start right away, if that’s alright? I really wanna get to Act 2 today.”

“O-oh, of course—!”

And he’s sweetly guiding you inside, whilst you attempt not to look like you’re taking two steps at a time. Back to that familiar room. Back to that familiar desk. Back to that (somewhat) familiar bed which most certainly did not have an artwork from The Phantom of the Opera on it—

You open the door and the first thing you’re seeing is the familiar plane of that white mask. The Phantom. 

Choso follows behind you and catches you staring at the poster. Gravelly tone echoing from behind, “I told you I did some decorating.”

And you jump-

Swivelling around to find him bearing you a sheepish smile, “Sorry if I startled you.” He pushes those chunky glasses up, “Tea?”

“S-sure…” You breathe, if anything for a thing to occupy your mouth with. Wait- not like that—!

And as Choso disappears down the hall, you’re taking a seat on the bed you’ve sat on countless, countless times before without a single care in the world. Now you’re sinking into the very - the very - edge as though it’d swallow you whole.

Body just resting on the plush comforter before-

“Hey, so I also have coffee if you would prefer?” Comes Choso’s sudden voice.

And you’re startling once more- “Just tea is fine, thanks.” Barely managing to get that through your lips, you’re watching as he disappears…as the sound of his footsteps echo…

Before darting off the bed and now heading towards the camera equipment you’d noticed in the corner the first time you’d been here. What you’d assumed to be part of another one of his classes or personal projects. Now, you’re leaning in and wondering with just which camera he showed his pretty cock off to millions, at just what height of his tripod he made your cunt so heated. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck this was real.

Now, you’re noticing things in the room that you’d never noticed before. Like the ring light kept underneath his bed, and the dresser in the corner with numerous rings- those weren’t costume props or anything. They were pure silver.

Heavy.

Heavy, like the pit in your stomach—excited and swirling. Just trembling at the tips of your fingers - ever-so-slightly - you’re reaching out as though to touch it, as though to feel the alternate version of Choso that you knew longer than you knew Choso-

“Ah, so you’ve realized.”

And then his voice permeates the room.

The room that suddenly seems smaller, the room that suddenly seems to rise ten degrees in temperature - though goosebumps skitter across your skin. And almost as though in a horror movie, you’re turning in slow motion to face the bespectacled man who was now holding up a tray of steaming hot tea. 

He walks over soundlessly and sets it on the coffee table with a slight click! And besides that, Choso walks over to the dressing table and puts his silver rings on.

One by one.

His eyes hold court with yours through the mirror, “How long?” Voice a deep timbre. 

You’re taking a step closer without even realizing, “Um…just last night. Just now- actually.”

He chuckles and you realize he’s asking how long you’ve known about Curse.

“I-I found you by chance. About a week ago, actually…” And then you say what’s been on your mind ever since you had, “Ever since you liked and unliked my repost.”

“Ah, a rookie mistake.” Choso comments. “I should have known better than to stalk using my public account.” And with all rings now put on and glinting in the lighting of his bedroom, Choso shuffles through his jewellery tray to pluck his earrings in and one eyebrow piercing. And then…one lip piercing—a lip ring that twinkles mischievously as he smiles.

He rises and you think you’ve never quite appreciated his built frame. 

His deep eyes as they’re locking in on you. Echoing out, “Though…you really can’t say much- can you, Movie?”

And though you knew that he knew- you can’t stop the zaps of electricity running through your body. 

Sputtering out, “Yeah-” Your fists clench and you’re looking up at the object of both your fantasies and your secret interest these past few days - melded into one. “Yeah, I really can’t. Choso you’re so…”

“Different?” He fixes his glasses, “Though I really am shy, I can’t deny that- especially around you. But it helps to be a little more antisocial when I’m around idiots.”

He leans in closer- so close that his scorchin’ hot breath wafts across your features. You have no idea how you’d diminished such a distance so soon…

“And if my memory serves me right-” Choso taps on the edge of his chin, in mocking thought. “-I seem to remember that Movie agreed to have a partner on my stream.” You shiver. And he looks at you adoringly, “So how about it? Wanna make a movie, baby?”

You step a little closer. 

“Only if I get to match wardrobes.”

He chuckles and picks you up to spin you around-

And then it’s getting to work. And then it’s shuffling through his closet to find a mask that matches his own. 

He stretches on the rubber a bit and brings it to you—“I bought this one when I first started, but it ended up being too tight- I think it’d be just the one for you.”

It was. It fit perfectly.

And then he paces around the room and starts to set up- before Choso’s gaze catches you hovering around the bed, and then he’s clicking his tongue and forgoing the tripods altogether. With just the professional lights and the high-quality camera, Choso places the camera on top of the coffee table. Facing the foot of the bed - everything and anything could be seen.

Just with a few clicks he’s started the stream.

And with just a little nudge he’s urging you to sit next to him. 

“Hello, my little sluts—” Choso- or should you say Curse croons towards the camera. On one of his monitors you can see him being projected there - waving, in his knitted vest that clashed with his mask. You stand off awkwardly out of sight from the camera. He smiles. “As you can see, things are a little different today…”

@girrrrrrrrrrth: uuuuuu change of angle!! change of angle!!

@bewbsRlife: ARE WE GETTING A SURPRISEEEEEEE??

@likezmenpregnant: Pls be pregnant, Curse <3

“No- no, I’m not pregnant.” He laughs, “But I have been thinking about what we talked about last night.”

@bipplruletheworld: omg this can’t be…

“And guess what? I did what you guys told me about- and I talked to her.”

@bipplruletheworld: yessssssss

@yoyoyoureinmypuss: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE^^

@bewbsRlife: WOOOOOO-

@daddytoeknee: Omg where’s Movie, Ik she’d love this- heh. Imagine this WAS Movie though…

“So, my little sluts…” Choso announces, “I’d like to introduce you all to my new partner—” And he’s reaching out and clasping your wrist, looking up to check for reassurance before continuing. Miming whispering to the camera, “And this is her first time on stream, so be nice…”

You’re sheepishly walking into their view. 

Slightly bowing your intrusion into the stream, “Th-thanks for having me?”

“Isn’t she cuuuuute?” He asks the commenters, and there’s a flurry of agreements. You’re even spotting a few questions about your name n’ interests, even kinks, amongst those - all of which Choso waves off with a laugh. “Now now—we can have the Q&A later. For now, let’s get to the fun part…”

@Curse’swifey: FUCK THAT’S MY FAV PART-

@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Movie you’re missing out on a historic moment uwu

And the fun part consisted of clamoring onto the bed as fast as lightning. Letting the mattress dip n’ creak its protests out as Choso sits on it with his back turned to the camera, then lovingly pats his manspread thighs as a signal for you to climb on. Meaty muscles. Thick enough for you to want to sink your teeth into- how could you never have noticed?

Perhaps because this was the polar opposite of how he acted when he was on campus - always keeping to himself, never taking up too much space. Now he was practically vacuuming it all up so you had nowhere else to sit.

And you were more than happy to climb onto Choso Kamo’s lap.

Sitting your ass down on his readily-awaiting seat. From under your skirt you feel something hot—and throbbing between his legs. Cylindrically shaped and curved to the left.

Just the slightest movement makes his rock-hard erection twitch underneath- and you’re whimpering at the lewd sensation. At the way he drips out a hefty dollop of precum that seeps through his trousers and sticks to the front of your panties, making you gasp—“Ch-Cho-”

“Shhhh.” Choso wraps a hand ‘round your throat and cuts you off. 

And before you know it, he’s bouncing his knees to get you to slide your drippin’ pussy up and down his bulge. Up and down. Turning towards the camera, “Ya hear that?” Up and down. “My girl’s so needy- she’s already begging for it. But I dunno if she deserves it, huh?”

@bewbsRlife: I MEANNNN

@theh0rniestsoldier: i’m feeling mean today…

@daddytoeknee: Give her your mouth!!

“Mouth? I love that idea.” Choso titters.

And then he’s giving a teasing slap on the side of your ass cheeks—smack! 

“Please-”

“Sit on my face now, baby.” He purrs, eyes flickerin’ with pure need underneath his mask. Then leaning in to whisper in a loooow tone for only you to hear. “You know Choso, but let’s see if you can handle Curse.”

Then he leans back on the bed - his head pointing in the direction of the camera. 

And you’re shuffling up Choso’s toned, brick-hard body—straddling your knees upon either side of his head, veerin’ your hips right atop that pretty face. You’re sitting - right in front of the camera. Though nothing was revealed…yet. 

And Choso’s digging his tongue up to you instantly- he isn’t even making it past the fabric of your panties. But that doesn’t stop him from lettin’ his tastebuds take a looooong, luxurious lick of your swollen pussy.

Right down your sopping wet slit. 

Suddenly, the room echoes with one of his pornographic moans- the very same ones you’d listened to night after night through your laptop speakers. Now they’re even louder, and somehow even sexier, sending electricity shooting straight up, up, up from your core.

And even more treacherous was the way you’re feeling something cold…and metallic at the very middle of Choso’s tongue. Rock-hard. It takes whatever’s left of your rationality to realize that it’s a silvery tongue piercing smack-dab where his tastebuds kissed your pussy. Scraping alongside where you were most sensitive. 

Instantly; your head tips back and saliva starts bubbling at the sides of your lips. “Fuh-fuck…” And before you know it—you’re starting to drag your throbbing pussy up n’ down his features.

Short, barely-there jerks of your shy, shy hips.

And Choso chuckles huskily to himself at the cute way you were yearnin’ for his mouth. But what you didn’t expect was for him to reach one ringed hand up and squeeze the left side of your hips.

Your only warning.

Before he’s suddenly tightening his hold on you and reaching one more hand up- snaking it beneath your skirt like some pervert. Choso edges towards your throbbing cunt and places one good slap—

It’s the resounding smack! of skin-on-skin that makes you halt more than anything.

Jaw-dropped. Thighs quivering. The white-hot pleasure runs through your spine and leaves you barely hearing his roughened words, a tone lower than you knew his voice to be- as though drunk on the delicious taste of your pussy already. “Greedy, greedy girl…” Choso tuts, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to enjoy yourself without letting our dear audience in on the fun?”

Oh, shit.

You’re letting your head snap to where the camera was positioned and blinking its one gluttonous eye. Comments flooding the screen of the monitor so fast that you couldn’t read them-

You’d completely forgotten about the stream for a second. 

“I—oh, I um.” 

Yet another harsh smack! “Forgot, huh?” Amusement seeps into Choso’s words, as though he’d already guessed the situation.

You admit, “M-maybe…”

“I’m afraid I can’t blame you, baby.” Smack! “Curse’s mouth is too good, huh?” He yammers on and on, his tongue nudging deeper, his rippling tastebuds skidding into every ridge- as if trying to fuck you through your damn panties. “This pussy’s too good–she’s purring f’me already. Hear her?”

And you’re not sure why- but you’re nodding to whatever he says. “Y-yes—fuck.” 

“Mhm. So why don’t we let our lovely audience hear, too, huh?” You’re barely given the time to register his suggestion, before Choso husks out a command. “Lift your skirt up, baby.”

Your thighs squeeze around his head at the notion-

And your fingertips touch the short hemline of your skirt.

@Cursenoticeme44: Holy shit.

@theh0rniestsoldier: i’ve been waiting for thisssssssssss-

@daddytoeknee: WOW.

@girrrrrrrrrrth: bby’s so needy!!

@R€4leater: munch Curse #canon

The chat explodes as you let them bear witness to Choso’s face stuffed between your pretty legs- he’s redly-flushed and ravenous. They could see the slightest glimpse of his nose n’ the way he’s driving it between your sodden pussylips, diving and diving, they could see the glossy layers coating your cunt—and the way Choso’s pink lips come up to suck on it. 

Those handsome cheeks of his hollow out, as he’s makin’ out with your pussy through your panties.

Like a man starved.

Long canines slightly nippin’ at your folds- almost wolfish in mannerisms.

“Oh p-please…” You’re quivering atop him. You don’t even know what you’re begging for—just that it feels so good to have him veering his tongue hungrily against your cunt like this. And you wanted more.

More, more, and more.

Choso’s holding onto your restless hips with a clammy hand- he’s stuck to you almost like adhesive. And he guides your hips - he fucking slows them down - whilst you continue moanin’ and shaking atop his raw mouth. Glistening wet tongue extending even more than its usual length to slide-slide-sliiiiide your panties to the side-

And you’re gasping at the sudden whiff of cold bedroom air against your naked pussy. “Ch-” A spank. “I mean- fuck, Curse?”

“Mhm, m’here, baby.” He drawls out. Slightly slurring with all the extra globs of your pussy juices - pooling straight into your mouth, n’ Choso reaches up and smooches your soft swollen folds to smear it all around. Like some gloss. “M’here aaaaaand- so are 820k sluts that wanna watch you break.”

“B-break?” You’re gaping, “I thought you were just gonna- ngh, eat me out…?”

“Baby, Curse never ‘just’ does anything.” And you’re shocked to find him sliding his tongue out, tipping his head back to refer to the camera on the coffee table. “Isn’t that right, fuckin’ pervs?”

@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah.

@0003h0lesforCurse: duhhhhhhhhh

@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU’RE THE BEST CURSE

@Fishygurodad: Fuck, her pussy’s divine.

“Heh…” Choso smiles into your cunt, “And so whaddaya say? How many slaps before I stick my tongue in her?”

@vampzo333: 3

@bbynohuuuuzz: 14

@Ilikepr1menumbers: 29

“Since m’feeling nice- read your favorite one out, baby.” He murmurs.

To which you’re unable to do anything but- you tilt your upper half just the slightest bit closer to the monitor and pick out the first one you can read through the blur of words and numbers:

@Fishygurodad: Until she cries.

Oh.

Your blood runs cold.

Your cunt grows heated.

And before you can either rectify your recitation or beg for mercy—Choso doesn’t hesitate before fixing the rings on his fingers to be slightly higher than before. Making sure they’re in line of him planting one- two- three good, loud spanks on your sobbin’ cunt. “O-oh my god- fuck, mmm, oh my god.”

Until the skin of his fingertips seems to redden, and your pussylips feel raw - “How about that?” He asks- not from you, but from the viewers.

@daddytoeknee: I don’t see her crying yet…also idkkkkk I’m getting Movie vibes.

@girrrrrrrrrrth: movie would’ve loved this-

And then it’s one after the other. Again and again, Choso’s emblazoning the rude outlines of his rings against yours - until you’ve fucking memorized the ridges n’ patterns of the one ring on his middle finger with the carving of an octopus. 

Tentacles flared out.

“Shit, not that damn ring again.”

And as he’s doing so he can’t help himself- fuck, he can’t heeeeelp himself. His canines dig into the sticky fabric of your underwear like a damn dog - and throughout the duration of what his hands were doing, you’re hearing the sharp riiiiip of fabric tearing—!

Soon enough, your panties are tattered and ruined in Choso’s maw- just from his mouth. He spits it out and continues swerving his thickened tips inwards to give a loving pinch on your clit—and you can’t help but burst into peals of shrill, needy cries. Both pain and pleasure mixing as he doles out a final swat-

Before Choso swipes your pussylips apart and spits- the glutinous glob of his saliva landing directly on your hole. He doesn’t give it the time to seep back out—instead, he’s surging up and shoving his face between your legs.

This time, without the barrier of your panties in the way. 

@CCpervnextdoor: HE FUCKING RIPPED IT OFF WITH HIS MOUTH??

@bewbsRlife: HOLY SHIT CURSE-

@Fishygurodad: Shiiiiit, I’d do the same ngl.

And then Choso’s shoving his tongue inside and slurpin’ all around your wet hole like a damn animal…

In and out.

In and out.

Probin’ into slippery sweet spots.

Chin hitting the back of your slit. Plastic mask rubbing against your clit. 

Choso’s pierced tongue was going absolutely fucking wild inside of you. He wastes no time before gripping either side of your cute hips and slammin’ your pussy down onto his mouth- hard and fast. The perverted nerd is slashing his tongue inwards, smearin’ apart your glue-covered folds. As deep as he could go. He doesn’t care if it hurts, he just needs to make sure that loooong slick muscle of his tastebuds were scrapin’ every inch of your walls.

With the curved tip of it, he flexes it against a sweet bundle of nerves. Making you buck with a pitchy moan of his name—“Ch-Cuuuurse—!” And the sensation was made even more delicious with the way his orb tongue piercing presses in contrast against your hot cunt. “It feels so good, Curse.”

“I already know.” Choso pipes up- cocky in all the ways you never knew he could be. “I already know- but what about those fuckers watching, huh?”

“W-well…” Spit drivels down your chin, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes focused to read the urgent chat. 

@bipplruletheworld: they’re so HOT!!

@NERDSAREMYBABYGIRLZ: OHHHH WHAT A MUNCH

@daddytoeknee: Me next <3

And it was clear that they were seeing the effect he had on you- how could they not?

Your eyes were dazed and teary, your thighs were shaking like leaves in the wind, Choso was making your body twitch—just from the way he’s reeling his entire tongue out. And breathing out steadily and slowly against your twitchin’ pussylips, freezing cold air that leaves you even wetter on top of him.

He’s unfastening his mouth - leaving it wiiiiide open for all the satiny ribbons of your slick to enter his gullet. And once you’re done- that isn’t enough riling you up.

Choso leaves a good slap on your folds and asks, “So…what about it?” Muffled through his mouthfuls.

“They agree- they agree—” You’re keening out. Star-struck, seeing pleasure burst behind your shuttered eyelids at the sudden stinging. “Fuck- you’re the hck! best I’ve ever had, Curse.”

“I agree.” He hums. And as if this entire ordeal wasn’t sinful enough, Choso’s swashing around the silky-smooth sap he’d collected from your leaking pussy. Letting the flavor seep into his tastebuds, before he’s then spitting again on your pussy. A semi-opaque layer of lewdness that coats your inner thighs in a sheen that catches the lighting. 

Perfect on camera.

You’re squeezing your wettened thighs together and creating an audible squelch!

“Awwww, look- this pussy agrees, too.”

The gooey addition startles you- and you rut.

Only straight down onto his awaiting fingers.

@girrrrrrrrrrth: oh, shit is he…

@legsopenforcurses: With the rings on, too!!

@likezmenpregnant: My show is onnnnn

It’s such a fucking mess for him to navigate- even with his own fingers. Soon enough, you’re arching your back as you feel him intrude a single ringed digit between those utterly swollen pussylips of yours—almost difficult to find your snug hole between them. You’re damn lucky that Choso’s fingers were slender as well as incredibly lengthy.

Because he’s circlin’ your tight orifice a few times - only a few times - before inserting the sections of his finger. Quirking just right and hitting the exact bundle of your nerves.

That infamous g-spot that made you yelp once he starts and keeps on hitting.

And his rings- oh, fuck, his rings.

Just so chunky and textured. They were the perfect designs to press up against your walls and massage them stupid- every drag meant that you’re feeling them dig into ridges n’ crevices you hadn’t even known existed. 

Hitting and hitting. Curling his dexterous finger and scraping- “Fuuuuck, oh my god.” The doughy tip of his finger soon becomes damn-near molded to the area where it was, and your eyes flicker to the back of your head as you continue anglin’ your hips so he could hit it perfectly. “Right there, Curse- r-right there.”

“I know.” Choso rolls his eyes - at least what seems like it underneath his mask. “That’s why I’m hitting it. Honestly…is my girl dickmatized?” He utters as he sucks on your clit—ultimately erupting a sobbing slurp! that makes him nod. “Mhm, I think my girl’s dickmatized.”

Tipping his head back before you can refute his claims. He then addresses the audience-

“Whaddaya think, my little pervs? Dickmatized already…maybe I should go easy on her, huh?”

@olderandR4w: nooooooooooo

@yoyoyoureinmypuss: NEVER.

@Fishygurodad: Go even harder.

“Tough crowd.” And with that said, Choso’s stuffin’ in just a few more fingers. Each with their own numerous rings and sopping wet sounds accompanying them—slurp!

One. 

Two.

You’re counting about three of his prolonged digits pushin’ your tight walls to their limits, rubbing your sweet spots raw with his constant bashing rhythm, before lustful fogginess coils around your brain. And it’s around here that Choso catches onto the glazed look in your eyes and chuckles—

“Ohhhh, you really are dickmatized.” He hums to himself, though you’re sure the professional mic picks it up either way. “And so soon, too. Probably hasn’t had a good finger-”

A fourth being added so that he can scissor apart your velvety channel whilst still multi-tasking with his other fingers to ram into your g-spot.

“-or even a good mouth on ‘er…” To emphasize his point, he presses a dramatically loud kiss upon your clit. One that’s making you bounce n’ bounce your hips atop his clammy face, and grind your throbbing nub down on his pointed nose. The addition of his mask just makes that cool touch even more lecherous. “My poor girl.” Choso still mutters out despite the way he’s gluing your cunt to his mouth. He pulls away from your clit with a loud pop! “What do you think, my slutty audience?”

At the slurring question you’re letting your head down to watch him. “Ch…Curse, what’ve you got on your mind-”

“M’just asking what else you deserve, baby.” He coos. And questions them once more, “How about a little quiz? Which parts of Curse are going to make my poor, poor girl feel the best? A). My fingers. B). My mouth. Or…”

And he pretends to listen to your noisy wet pussy once more.

“Or C…”  You could practically feel the grin plastering against your needy pussy. The way his eyes narrow in sinful amusement beneath his mask- you didn’t have to see his full face to know that Choso was enjoying this perhaps way more than he should. “—all of the above.”

And it was futile to think that they would answer anything else.

C floods your vision.

You’re letting your mouth droop, and your gaze meet Choso’s own between your legs- but you’re finding that you don’t have to say a thing for him to already know the answer.

And as expected, he gives a final roll of his tongue atop your clit - before munchin’ on your aching cunt once more. This time, he’s tunneling his fingers deep into your cavern whilst still licking inside with his prolonged tongue—when stretched out, Choso’s tongue could reach almost as deep as his fingers could.

Your cunt was being stretched-out to lengths you never thought about before.

Not only were Choso’s fingers thicker than yours, but his tongue was something ravenous- no matter how much you’re flinching in sensitivity, he isn’t slowing down. “Mmm-” He groans, barely breathing through even his flared nostrils. You’re hit with the distinct feeling that he thinks he doesn’t even have to breathe as long as he had you on him like this - “Mmm, hold still.”

Taking advantage of the fact to lavish your sensitive inches with kiss upon kiss. To grind his nose down purposefully on your clit. To glide his metallic piercing across those hidden spots. To bash your poor g-spot in again and agaaaain with his fingers before his tongue’s coming to the rescue to soothe the slightly raw sting-

So it’s not long before you’re throwing your head back and cumming.

Perhaps the strongest you’ve ever felt when you’re in the throes of your high.

You barter your hips forwards and keep up a steady pace - one that’s making Choso hit the exact spots you wanted him to during the peaks of your high. The utmost peaks. “Shit—shit, just like that.” Breathless. “K-keep going, baby, it feels so good.”

And he doesn’t even answer - too caught up in fucking you through your orgasm.

In the way you shudder above him. In the way you’re only getting even sweeter by the second-

Bodyheat raising a few degrees in temperature; your heart sings and the bed creaks with how much you’re jostling from above. This was even better than touching yourself to videos of him, there were so many thrills of bliss that he’s wringing out of you- like he’d wring out of himself during his solo videos. 

With both his fingers and his tongue, slurpin’ and sliding. Those doe-like eyes of his are edging straight to the back of his skull as he feels your drenched walls cleeeeench around his pierced tongue, as though it’s the best thing he’s ever fucking felt. And you’re acting on impulse - you really are - because the coffee table was positioned right beside the foot of the bed.

And all you had to do was reach your arm out to grab the simple camera there. Turning it into your point of view as Choso’s sweaty brown bangs stick to his forehead, as sweat trickles down his temple, as he lets out soft yet unyielding moans whenever you’re squeezing your thighs around his head.

@cockycockowner: no homo but that’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.

@theh0rniestsoldier: woah he’s PUSSYDRUNK

@Fishygurodad: Show me his POV.

@daddytoeknee: Don’t you know that she’s his girl now smh?^^

@daddytoeknee: Movie-core- wya ml??

Choso cocks his head and keeps making out with your pussy in all the ways that make your toes curl—pleasure elongating from your orgasm and spreading into every part of you. Your vessels, your cells, your atoms.

They’re all buzzing with pleasure and still aching for more once Choso finally pulls away with a loud pop! of his lips releasing. 

When they do, you’re sneaking a look down at him and noticing just how red n’ swollen they were. Even the skin around his jaw was flushed with the constant ramming contact. And the viewers are just gobbling it up - subscribing bells keep dinging here and there, and everywhere. 

Just a single look at his stats on-screen reveal that Choso’s climbed up to 870k just since you’d started this stream.

And it’s after a little while - after he’s had his fill - that the dark-haired man finally taps at the side of your thigh to gesture for you to get up. Though, even then, he’s tightening his grip on your body—going against his own fucking instruction to press a final few open-mouthed kisses before he’s done.

He chases after your pussy with his maw for a little- before he’s finally sitting up.

And it’s only then that he seems to notice the camera in your hand, blinking his glazed eyes a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming things up. Once it finally registers, the most attractive grin spreads across his face. “You changed POVs?”

“Had to.” You admit, “I wanted them to see how pretty you are…”

“Guess you finally learned about sharing, hm? Greedy girl.” He chuckles darkly to himself. And then he starts looming closer, “But you realize that the show’s not done yet, right?”

You gulp.

@Fishygurodad: Fuck her already, damn!! I’m only here for her.

@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Hate to admit it, but he’s lowk right. I think I’ve discovered I’m bi…

@vampzo333: ^^

@girrrrrrrrrrth: ^^

“So impatient.” He looks at the monitor, reading the chat and tuts. “Honestly- so ungrateful. I should end the stream right here and fuck her on my own terms.”

There’s a frenzied flurry of comments- all of which you were sure were begging for Choso not to stop and bashing that one commenter for attempting to start a revolution. To which you’re only giggling and handing over the camera to him.

Choso - as the expert - then positions it somewhere by the edge of the fluffy pillows: where they’d be able to see the expanse of both your bodies and where you’d soon be connected…

And then you’re shedding your clothes in a hurry- making it to your smart blouse before he’s reaching a hand up and tearing through it. The buttons hit the floor, and at your noise of displeasure Choso merely lets out a half-delirious giggle. 

He leans in and whispers, “I-I have a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt I’d love for you to wear.”

The change in demeanour gives you utter whiplash, and you can’t help but stare at him open-mouthed.

“What?” Choso asks, next moving on to shrugging off his own fabrics. They’re landing on a heap beside the bed, and your lips slightly part at the display of his red-hot erection—it’s just as large and sensual as all those streams had proven him to be. Polished strawberry top. Slender veins along the middle. 

A happy trail of dark brown - nearly black - glistened with the splattered remnant of his precum. Just like the gleaming mess across his chin, mouth, and cheekbones that Choso wore like a medal.

He was slightly longer than even on camera- and even prettier up-close. Way up close- he shuffles his body up yours n’ fucks your tits a few times to dollop out glistening translucent precum across yours tits.

“Lighting’s not the best here.” Choso explains- or at least attempts to pin an explanation onto that. Onto something he’s clearly been wanting to do for so long. “Had to highlight ‘em, baby.”

You scoff, “It’s just…” Throwing a cautious glance at the camera, you lower your voice. “You’re so different from how you are in real life.”

“Oh? And how did you expect me to be, huh?” He positions himself between your legs - wrapping both of them around his waist. Before then thinking better of it and throwing them even more lewdly around his neck instead—his plush priggish tip kisses your entrance. “Did you expect me to be like…”

He trails off.

He doesn’t need to complete the rest of his sentence- and you don’t think you’d have heard him even if he tried.

Because in that very moment, Choso’s jerking his pale hips back a mere few inches—then plopping his globular tip between your pussylips and push-push-puuuuuushing. Fucking past the initial restraint of your first ring of muscle, he’s funneling in some thick inches that make your heels bang against the muscles of his back.

And he doesn’t even seem to notice.

He doesn’t even seem to breathe as he’s letting his cock swerve inside. Get suctioned inside. Get his Prince Albert’s piercing crept down your sensitive innards. Get gobbled up between your greedy legs-

You clench ‘round him and Choso throws his head back with a low, broken moan.

“Oh p-please—” He’s babbling out through unsteady pink lips, a lazy line of dribble starting up from one corner of his mouth. Those long lashes of his flutter as he’s reaching one bulky hand up to grip the headboard, and placing his right one on your hips- keeping you steady.

Fingers trembling. Muscles rippling.

@likezmenpregnant: Woah…make him do that again…

@sixeyesorsixh0les: SUBBY CURSE HELLO??

@whimperwhiteboywhimper: oh I am SO here for this

@Fishygurodad: Whatever…

Your eyes bulge once his throat cracks with what sounds like a whimper—“Please it feels so good.” And though you couldn’t quite make it out, even the chat seemed stunned as Choso punctures out a broken stutter of his hips. Delving a few inches into your goopy insides- though not enough to bottom out completely, as you’re still too wound-up for him to fit completely. And you’re able to pinpoint exactly where he’s using the orbed metal of his first piering. With more to come…“Ngh- oh.” Broken noises emanating into your eardrums and the mic. “It f-feels shooooo good, baby.”

Choso’s head drops into the crook of your neck, and there - and there - you’re feeling his cheeky grin.

And suddenly you’re understanding.

Oh—he was toying with you.

And he was doing it in a way that’d completely fooled you- and perhaps all of his viewers, too.

But before you’re able to open your mouth to bite back something at him, Choso staggers his hips back and gives you a vicious jackhammer with his cock, “O-ohhhhh, my god—” Your toes curl atop his shoulders, slippery with sweat. He hadn’t even rammed all the way inside yet, and yet the slightly left-leaning angle of his shaft was driving you wild.

Big and thick.

Running the slick globe of his tip down your walls, Choso probes a direct hit to that spot you loved so much. And he knew you loved it so much—he’d mapped out your entire pussy earlier, of course.

And yet, he’s still gasping as though the pearls gates of heaven had descended right here and there. He’s letting his sweet caramel eyes widen convincingly as he peers down at you, “I-is that…the spot, baby?”

@Curse’swifey: HE sounds SO NGH.

@daddytoeknee: Daddy likey…

@daddytoeknee: Also Movie would’ve really LOVED this, huh?

You hiss, “Curse, you should already know-”

“But how could I know—?” He exclaims. “This is my first time, after all…” Then Choso’s plastering his clammy tattooed hips - with a snake on the side - to yours, as though the two were connected by the force of the world’s strongest magnets: pulling and pushing, pulling and pushing. Every single battering ram of his mazing cocktip ends up lodged against your sweetly bruised g-spot, marking his circumference out with the sheer pace at which he was hitting it. 

“Shit—” Your nails clench on the sheets, and feeling jealous- Choso guides them to fist his hair instead. “Shit, right there. It f-feels so good-”

“There?” The once-nerdy man breathes out in awe. Disbelief every single time - or at least the mocking imitation of one. Swipin’ a line of precum down your nervy spot once more, “Th-there, baby—?”

Something breathy- octaves higher in his tone. “Yes- yes there-”

“There-” Choked up and ruined. Husky grunts hatching in the back of his throat. There was something there in his words that you couldn’t quite pinpoint—a sort of undertone of primal need, primal amusement as he ruined your pussy with his speedily pap-papping hips, but acted as though he had no idea what he was doing. Every single syllable uttered was met with a thorough whack of his curved cockhead against your particular spot- “There there there there- there-”

“Fuh-fuuuck-”

“So this g-spot’s really m-mine now, baby?” Choso asks. 

You whine, back arching off the mattress. “Yes-”

“Does she really have my mark on it now?”

“Yes…?” Eyes shooting open as you’re half-registering his question in your hazed brain. He bores his dark eyes down at you intensely. And as though to emphasize his point, you’re feeling his perfectly round tip squeezing into your throat by the next few thrusts. Deeper and deeper.

His Jacob’s Ladder starting to ease its frigid way past your entrance and glide across the roof of your cunt. It was a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

Choso probes even more, “I-is she really shaped to the shape of my cock now?” 

“Cho—ngh.” Quickly shutting your cockdrunken self up. Quickly reaching a ringed hand up to squeeze your throat- before he’s languidly snaking his way up to squeezing your pretty cheeks together.

Smushing your face in a way that was almost disrespectful- though, not that you were in any state of mind to call him out on it. And there’s a mean inkling in Choso’s tone as he coos, “Awww, b-baby, why aren’t you answering me?” Another rude slap! of his hips make your own sear in flames- that damn strength of his. Those damn piercings of his. “Is your poor, poor Curse not good enough?” 

Before you can answer, he’s looking at the blinking camera. 

“My babies, my girl doesn’t love my cock anymore…”

“I do—I do-” 

Squeezing his doughy-soft restraints - those contrastingly mean fingers of his - around your cheeks. He’s managing to smush your mouth shut and make you echo out the most pathetically pleading whines—as he fucks you. Determined and targeted.

The glossy rotund edge of his tip presses against your g-spot a few more times before you’re managing to make yourself take a peek at the comments on the monitor. 

Almost too far away- almost too blurry with the tears in your eyes. 

@Curse’snewestharem: Awwwww poor bby </33

@CCpervnextdoor: I would LOVE your cock, Curse!!

@girrrrrrrrrrth: is it just me or is he teasing us?

@Fishygurodad: ^^Yeah, he’s totally a fraud.

@Curseswombmommy: ^^girl shut up

“Th-they really think you’re oh-so-innocent…” You’re whispering up at him. Overstimulated tears in your eyes.

Breath hitching every time he’s surging his tattooed hips forwards and hitting that one spot particularly hard. Though there was never such a thing as too hard…

And Choso’s shooting you a secret smile - one just between the two of you - before morphing his expression into that of picture-perfect innocence. Roleplaying the demeanor of his nerdy self on campus, mixed with the utterly sultry—sexual way he was draaaaagging his lengthy cock in and out of your cunt.

Eventually, Choso’s emptying his inches out n’ bruising the bottom of your pussy. All of his nine - you seriously felt nine throbbing inches - inches shaping out the in-betweens of your legs. All of the beaded barbells of his Jacob’s Ladder massaging inside- the slitherin’ feeling of them making themselves at home. Zig-zagging and slithering. 

He feels the sponginess of your cervix and presses a hand down on your abdomen just to make sure, before changing that excitement into one of almost-genuine bafflement- “I-I really bottomed out?” Choso’s pinkish bottom lip juts out and quivers dramatically.

“Of course, you did.” You’re ready to scoff-

But whatever sarcastic sound was in the back of your throat gets quickly dissolved at the sight of Choso with genuine tears in his eyes. Glistening. “But I never- ngh, never thought I’d be able to.” He puts some more merciless pressure on your stomach that makes you buck—

And the only thing you can do is let your head tip back into the pillows.

The only thing you can do is let out a few mottled moans as he rubs over the small tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Pushing his palm down so that he could feel it. 

Whispering out, “I-I never thought this pussy would claim my cock as- ngh, hers, hm?” And for the moment there, you’re completely sure that he isn’t talking to you. Rather, your pussy that was sobbing out squelches after every one of his jackhemmerin’ thrusts. “And it’s not too big, right?”

“N-never—”

“Because m’just a nerd with a- hngh, biiiiiig fuckin’ cock.” How pitiful, right? He’s letting his long, dark lashes flutter as Choso avoids meeting your eyes—as though in shyness. He drills his hips even deeper - one unforgettable strike after the other following every word he spoke. “Just a big- fat- fucking- cock-”

“Please—!” Eventually, your arms reach upwards and you’re grabbing ahold of whatever part of him it is you could reach first. Which just-so-happened to be his bulky deltoids.

Choso’s brows genuinely seem to furrow at the lewdness of you digging your nails into his muscles, leaving your marks for everyone and anyone to see even after this stream has ended. And so he continues in his faux-innocent tone, “Oh? Did that feel good, baby?”

Purposefully slidin’ his cock across your g-spot so that you’d have to cry out. “Y-yeeees—”

“I didn’t even know, baby.” His mouth hangs open, and the most lustrous squelches! echo between your two connected bodies. Your cunt n’ his precum were making such messes…“I had no idea…”

His Jacob’s Ladder leaves your channel feeling raw n’ overstimulated- you feel raw and overstimulated. 

And you’re laid-out on the bed dazed and feeling so fucking good as Choso’s picking his pace up even more, you notice for a split-second that his hands have moved. No longer was he holding onto your cheeks n’ watching you squirm—now, the nerdy man hooks both hands around your sweaty thighs and pins them close to his body.

Holding them in place as he leans down, down, dooooooown until the caps of your knees hit your tits. 

You’re keening at the stretch, and a searing burn spreads from between your pussy and along your hamstrings. How did he even hide such strength underneath those soft knitted vest? Such a body?

Before you know it, you’re being pressed into your first-ever mating press.

And Choso gapes as though he was just as bewildered as you, “O-oh…did I do that?” He’s fucking asking you—however, when your stunned expression bears no answer, he turns and asks the same question from the camera. The bursts of replies obviously agree n’ tease him. And he’s shaking his head ever-so-slightly, “Did I really bend you in- heh-” A slight chuckle escapes him. “—half, baby?”

And what else can you do but nod and nod and nod—? 

“I think this is called a…breeding press?” He cocks his head ever-so-slightly, before shaking his head. “No wait- a mating press.”

“A m-mating press.” You’re repeating lamely.

“I c-can’t believe I’ve folded you into a mating press, baby.” Choso nearly snarls at himself, his hips accelerating until that rouge-tipped cock of his was almost nothing but a blur. “Can’t believe—s’like my body is moving before my mind, ngh. My fat cock’s not hittin’ you too deep, right, my girl?”

“Not in the l-least…”

And he really was long enough to make each and every probe feel as though it was slam-slam-slamming into your throat- the capped crown of his shaft was entering crevices n’ crannies you hadn’t even known you possessed. All marked out precisely by the silvery orb of his Prince Albert’s. 

Just then, after your answer, Choso reaches his left hand up to wrap ‘round your throat - and then hauls you back down to meet his slapping hips.

A thrust even harder than the ones before it.

Your breath gets snatched out of your lungs, dissipating into the heady air filled with the contact-riddled sounds of sex. Hard and fast. Only getting harder the longer you have your ankles looped ‘round his neck—“Not too hard, is it, baby?” Chosos asks you once more.

And you don’t have anything to spit out besides, “Oh f-fuck off.”

He gasps dramatically-

Well, not exactly dramatically. But in a way you knew was fake, and in a way that sends the chat exploding into comments.

The nerd pouts cutely, “Well, that’s not very nice…”

You’re rolling your eyes—right before Choso’s genuinely sending them rolling with his two fingers clamped around your clit. Using the silvery edges of his rings, he runs a few massages that end up with you sobbing and blabbering out your pleasure. 

@Curse’swifey: FUCKKKKKKKKKK they’re both so hot. THEY’RE BOTH SO RUINED.

@peepeesarebetterfictional: they both look like they’re gonna cum soon hehe

@bewbsRlife: CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM

Biting back. “I would argue th-that that’s not very nice, either.”

“But m’just trying to make my gorgeous girl cum…” And from where he’d been looming his pretty face above yours, Choso then lets his head droop down between your tits. During his ravenous pace, he’s roverin’ his mouth all over to kiss and suck at your tits, your nipples.

His cold lip ring drags across your left areola- and he catches onto the way you’re shivering. Before Choso then grabs your nipple between his lips n’ hollows his cheeks out sucking—“Promise m’just trying to make you feel- hah, good.” He mutters, slightly muffled. “Promise I just wanna fuck my cock raw if it means making my lifelong crush feel good…”

“Cho- Curse, are you…?” Your eyes widen.

And his own flap droopily a few times, “Hmmm?”

And that proved it.

That proved it.

Because Choso Kamo could be pretending to be a stuttering, panting, blushing mess on your heavenly cunt all he wanted- he could pretend to be pussydrunk out of his mind. But at the end of the day, it was impossible to hide when pretend turned into something…more. 

When the cocksure streamer that’d been driving you wild all this time morphs into the contentedly pussy-whipped nerd you expected him to be deep down inside.

His eyes genuinely glazed and blinking longingly.

His hair drenched in sweat.

His skin flushed with need- and only flushing even more fiercely the longer he kept his eyes on you. 

Without much ado, you’re throwing your hands around his neck and tuggin’ him as far as he could crane his neck when his entire body feels like collapsing onto you and into your maddening pussy. 

Choso pistons his hips slightly upwards to hear the slurp of his Jacob’s Ladder sliding across your walls, and he grooooans—

“Curse, baby…” You hum.

“Mhmmmm?” He replies with half-lidded eyes. Barely focused.

This was the big, bad #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends? As though sensing your thoughts, Choso’s fingers grow a little more frenzied on your clit. “I need you to cum inside, okay?”

He jolts at the idea- that sinful, sinful idea. Before chuckling, “Never had any other plan, baby.” And then he turns to the camera, “What do you think, fuckers? Think my girl deserves to cum?”

@Fishygurodad: Yes.

@Curse’swifey: YES.

@likezmenpregnant: Yesssss~

@girrrrrrrrrrth: yesyesyes.

@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah-

He’s holding out a little longer to make sure there wasn’t a single ‘no’ in there - and had there been one, you’re sure that Choso would have stopped and edged your incoming orgasm until it was a wave of complete agreement.

Luckily for you, they liked you.

And all he does now is press down harder on your g-spot from inside, lingering, and massage a pretty heart on your clit once more, lingering—before a final, thorough stroke is all it takes for you to hurtle into your second high of the night.

For you to arch your body into his chest, and shutter your eyes. “Ch-Cho…” 

Barely a whisper. He’s crashing his mouth into yours to make sure that secret between you two isn’t revealed. And you’re moaning deeply into Choso’s mouth as you cum—“Feels so- oh. It feels so…”

“Mhmmmm.”

Unable to even find the words.

The only thing you can do is riiiiiide out the massive wave of your high. It’s torrential; pure bliss floods your system from head-to-toe, and no matter how much you’re squirming your overstimulated hips, Choso only succeeds in batterin’ away his pierced cock into eeeevery single hidden sweet spot inside of you. The ones that prolonged your bliss and left spikes of euphoria leading up to your brain.

Your cunt clenched so tightly around his cock- almost as though you didn’t want him to even pull out. And Choso’s sweaty head drops once more into the crook of your neck as he cums with a shudder.

The knot between his brows deepening, the bedsheet around his knees bunching up as he surges his body upwards. Almost animalistically.

Choso bottoms out his furious, twitching cock and keeps it there- “Oh, fuck…” It didn’t sound like he was acting once his bawling red divot starts splatterin’ out more milky white wads. Deeep in the back of your pussy, right where your womb was, Choso puddles out his ecstasy in long ribbons. “Oh fuck fuck fuck—fuck. Always knew it’d feel this good.”

Wave upon wave.

Toes curling. Eyes scrunching shut.

If you thought his moans were sensual before, then you weren’t prepared for the ones your pussy was able to drag out of him - ragged and hollow utterances of your name. Over and over like a broken record, like a mantra.

He’s fucking into you to milk them out of his hefty balls- then fucking you again just to pump those webbed wads right back in. From the top of his rotund tip and dooooooown to the tufts of hairs at his base. All nine inches of him being used to stuff you till the brim—

You’re sure your insides look like an utter fuckin’ mess by the time he’s slowing his tattooed hips down ever-so-slightly—still shaking from the aftermath of his orgasm. This was far stronger than anything he’s ever experienced before. 

Drunkenly, you’re blinking your eyes up at him. “Always?”

He smiles, “Ever since our first lesson of Film 101.” Admitting, he lovingly wipes off a bit of his cum you were foaming between your pussylips. “You referenced Pride and Prejudice when talking about the best lines of dialogue of all time, and I-I’d been a goner since then.”

“Corny…” You snort. Though you can’t help the flutter of your heart.

“So um- coffee after this?”

“It better be dinner.”

He laughs in agreement. “Also I bought a vibrating piercing the other day and have been dying to try it…”

Your eyes widen.

And once you’re helping him pull out- Choso reaches for the camera and gets a good shot of the cum leaking between your legs. Before you’re both waving at it, “Thank you for joining us, today—this was the most fun I’ve had on stream yet- heh.”

You’re shooting the camera a pretty smile, too.

And Choso kisses the corner of your cheeks, “Until next time. This has been Curse and Movie.”

@girrrrrrrrrrth: holy fuck??

@Curse’swifey: WAIT WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT NO WAY-

@bewbsRlife: HOLD ON-

@CCpervnextdoor: SAY SIKE RN?

@bipplruletheworld: oh my god that’s amazing.

@likezmenpregnant: Oh, a love story for the ages~

@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU TWO LOOKING FOR A THIRD??

@Fishygurodad: Damn.

@Fishygurodad: Hmu when he messes up.

@daddytoeknee: Stfu he won’t.

@daddytoeknee: Also I totally called it <3

A/N. I did NOT plan to have me inserted and beefing with Toji Fushiguro but here we are-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[urinarythreatinfection]

Sighren

Shanks x Male Reader. 2676 words.

Desc: You encounter a siren oasis, they aren't friendly and reveal some things about you.

CW: Pre-relationship, fluff.

“How did we get lost with you here; and after you were bragging so much about your sense of direction.” You chastise as you, Beckman, and Yasopp walk across the island.

“This island has to be weird! There’s no other way I would get turned about like this!” Yasopp angrily replies, trying to look around to no avail. “I can barely see through this fog.”

“That's why I told you two not to go.” Beckman had followed the two of you, who were absolutely adamant on going. If you were going to get yourself in trouble he’d rather be there then leave you to it. Plus, he wanted to take a walk.

“We came here to search for an animal to cook! That’s perfectly reasonable.” You’re also on the defensive, almost bumping into Yasopp when he suddenly stops. You watch as he walks over to a viney wall, pulling the greenery away to reveal a beautiful fogless lagoon. You step inside.

“We can fish here.” Your proclamation has the sniper turn to Beckman.

“See? Not useless.” The older man scoffs and you all explore inside to see conveniently placed rocks that go across the water, though some roughly shaped and all slippery. The sniper hops on one and peers into the water.

“Shit.”

“What?” Beck and you ask and he starts to grumble.

“There’s no fish in here.” At this revelation the first mate looks at you with squinted eyes.

“Not my fault. Lagoons usually have fish.” You hop onto a rock and the first mate sighs.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Why?”

“Why would there be conveniently placed rocks like this?” The three of you start to traverse.

“A boon from Mother Nature.” Yasopp says smugly and he scoffs.

“You overestimate how much you’ve done for Mother Nature that she would do this for you.”

“Hey!” Beck smirks and you all go on.

After a small while of hopping there’s suddenly splashes in the water and you all reach for your weapons. Beautiful women poke their heads out, but you’re all still guarded. Yasopp suddenly flinches, going pale, and your eyes spot a black haired woman with a long nose.

“Yasopp~ Come into the water~” The woman croons and he clenches his jaw. He can’t bring himself to fight her. Beckman tries to aim his weapon at her but the sniper stops him with a hand on his gun. “Don’t be so cruel, just come into the water with me~!” The dreadhead’s breath gets heavier and you smack him on the head to snap him out of it.

“Thanks.” It helped.

“You’re welcome.” Beckman covers the sniper’s eyes and ears as you aim your weapon at the fake Banchina. Her eyes widen.

“Yasopp, help!” She calls out and Beckman covers his ears harder. You aim and attack, but she dodges by going back into the water. She’s gone, but the others remain despite their anxious demeanor. They aren’t affecting you or Beckman, and their attempt at Yasopp only caused violence; the confidence they had at the start is waning when they suddenly dive into the water. They’re gone.

“...Do you want me to carry you?” You offer and Yasopp cracks up.

“Am I a princess? I can still walk.” You’re sincere, which is the funny thing to him. “Thanks for offering though.” That lightened the mood. “I’m surprised Beck didn’t lunge at them the moment they came out of the water.”

“I’m a man, not a dog in rut.”

“Can’t tell the difference sometimes.” You all go back to talking happily until there’s another splash. The dreadhead’s expression darkens.

“What is it this ti-” His angry voice stops abruptly as he sees it. You and Beckman look after to see what it is, it’s your captain. “What the hell..” The redhead is dressed in shiny pearls, droplets of water running down his face. It even has his scar and missing arm. “Sirens are supposed to be seductive women, right?”

“Thats what they were, male sirens are supposed to be rare. If this is their final weapon it’s a weird one.” Beckman explains, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“I don’t know, I would feel weird if I had to shoot the captain.” The sniper fiddles with his weapon.

“I’ve had urges to.” Being the first mate seems to have done nothing.

“If it’s meant to mirror who we most desire and neither of us like the captain then..” Their gaze slowly goes to you. You’re staring directly at Shanks(?). The way the pearls glitter across his skin and the droplets of water that fall over his face.

“Hey hey hey, seriously!?” Yasopp’s eyes are wide and Beckman looks only slightly surprised. He had a feeling. “(Y/n)! Snap out of it!” Shanks(?) swims over to a rock and props his chest over it, the water going between his propped up pecs. You’re very clearly enchanted.

“(Y/n)~ Come into the water. It feels nice here, won’t you join me?” The male siren asks with a wink. You can feel your heart beating faster and your pupils dilating.

“We can take our time crossing the lagoon right? We aren’t in a rush?”

“As if! Get over here!” You get the smack from earlier returned to you, jolting you out of it.

“Thanks, let’s just go-”

“I’m not wearing anything under the water, you know.” Your captain(?) muses and you feel the back of your clothes being tugged. You didn’t even notice that you were about to walk in. The siren giggles. “You’re so cute.” Your head feels like it’s going in circles.

“How are you doing worse than the both of us combined!?” The first mate has to grab you and sling you over his shoulder to cross the rest of the lagoon. The entire time you make it hard for him by struggling; arguing that you’re totally strong enough to protect yourself in the water in case something bad happens or that you just want to peek. You try to run into the lagoon as soon as you’re put down on the other side.

“Seriously, come—on!” You’re dragged away by the strength of both your crewmates.

“Aw, darn~ Well, I got to see something interesting.” Is the last you hear of the fake captain.

The rest of the outing is silent, even when you get the meat you were searching for.

“Hey~!! Over here!” Rockstar yells as you three spot them. On your way to them you hear a familiar voice and your body tenses.

“Jeez, that took long.” Your captain is sitting down with a big smile. “I hope you weren’t having fun without me?”

“We were having a blast.” The vice captain jokes while sitting down.

“Aww and after I volunteered so helpfully to stay here to watch the others.” Shanks leans back, very relaxed.

“You look like you just wanted to take it easy.”

“Not true! But get that boar cooking already.” Everyone laughs and you nervously try to follow along. You can feel Yasopp and Beckman’s gaze on you, what are you supposed to do about this? Your love for the captain was practically flashbanged to them in a way that’s impossible for you to deny. The only thing you could do is try to argue it’s only lust but that would only make you look bad. Despite how you all joke around everyone cares for the captain, if you tried to say something like “Oh I’m not in love with him I just want to fuck him!” you risk them thinking you see the captain as nothing but a sex object.. who knows what would happen to you after that. That’s on the very slim chance they believe you, too. “Hey, (Y/n), don’t tell me you aren’t hungry!” The reason this happened scoots closer to you. “After walking around that much you’ve got to have worked up an appetite.”

“Ah…” You spaced out. A hand is put on your shoulder.

“He’s feeling alright.” Beckman came to your rescue. “He got startled earlier and screamed like a little girl so he’s just a bit embarrassed.” Asshole. That makes Shanks laugh and your heart flutters.

“You can stick by me if you’re still scared!” He pats the ground with his hand. “On my right side, for obvious reasons.” You take the offer and sit on his right side, earning a pat on the back. His smile is comforting, he must be actually trying to soothe you. His soothing is further established when he whispers into your ear. “It’s alright, I’ve screamed like a little girl plenty of times. Don’t tell anyone, though.” You keep a good poker face while nodding despite the urge to get even closer.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” You get a hard smack on the back. “Now eat, eat, eat!”

_________________

You wake up in the night needing to take a piss. A groan leaves your throat, you don’t want to get up but you also don’t want to piss yourself. You sleepily get out of your sleeping bag to hear shuffling beside you. Shanks is also getting up.

“You gotta go too?” He asks and you nod. “Might as well go together.”

While you’re peeing on the wall of a cliff you notice something off about the moss on it. When you touch it your hand goes through, shaking to reveal the lagoon from before. How many entrances are there? There’s a ripple in the water that makes you gasp. It’s the sirens from before! To your detriment the gasp caused Shanks to sprint to you in seconds with a hand on his sword; he takes it off when the entrance is in view. He glances down before suddenly looking away. Confused, you look down. Your dick is still out.

“Ack!” You hurriedly put it back in place. You should’ve developed a thick skin by now but it’s always different with him. At least he’s polite about it. Once you’re decent he looks back.

“A lagoon?” Peeking inside carefully, he steps on one of the rocks.

“Wait!” His body snaps towards you and you pause. You can’t say that you’ve been here before and warn him. If you do, he’ll ask what happened; and you’ve never been great with lying to him when he gets so curious. Still.. “There are sirens here.” ..you can’t risk his safety.

“Sirens?” Uh oh, his eyes are twinkling. You made it worse. “They sing, right? I can cover my ears, don’t worry.” There he goes..

You follow.

The two of you hop across rocks while Shanks admires the lagoon. You haven’t seen any sirens yet and the captain looks a little disappointed.

“Maybe they’ll come out if I take a dip.” You grab him by the shoulder. “Kidding! mostly.” You wish you had help to reign him in, how were you supposed to know there were more entrances!? He can’t even swim well with one arm! Wait that also means he can't cover his ears, either. “Heeeyyy! Is anyone in there!!!??” Now he’s yelling. What kind of captain is this. The head of a woman finally pokes out and he gasps in awe. “Oo, she really is pretty!” She dives back in. “Ack! Did I scare her off?” Before you can stop him he gets on his knees and sticks his head in. “Hey! Come back! I’m friendly!” That’s what you think he said, anyway. It’s bubbly. You grab the back of his shirt and pull him up.

“Captain!”

“What?” You try to speak again but he shushes you when he hears bubbles.

“Don’t shush me! These sirens don’t sing! They can turn into the person you long for!” You blurt out. You don’t know who it is or what they’ll look like but you don’t want something to harm your captain even if it means outting yourself. You spot what looks like a male figure underwater. ‘Don’t tell me it’ll turn into Shanks in front of him!’ As you feared, a man comes out of the water.

…But it’s you.

It’s you?

You stare at yourself(?) completely confused, tilting your head down to see Shanks’s eyes completely wide. You’re dressed in the same fancy pearls that the fake captain was in before.

“Oh? Isn’t this a plot twist~?” You(?) say with a fake shocked expression, clearly more amused than anything. “You are right, by the way. I’m the same as my sisters, I turn into the person you long for. Though they typically call for me if that person is male. I never thought it would end up like this, though.” Shanks snaps his head to you.

“I-I–Listen, this is..” His gaze trails back to you(?). The fake you winks at Shanks before gripping its chest.

“Do you like these as well?” The redhead flushes. “Or maybe..” You(?) use the rock to prop yourself up to the v-line. “..you would like to see something else?” He’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish, beet red.

“I’m right here, you know! The ACTUAL (Y/n)!” You grab him by the sides of his face and force him to face you. You can’t really register what’s going on right now but you don’t like how your crush is being seduced by someone else who also looks like you.

“Sorry, I’m being an asshole.” He tries to get up.

“I’m not wearing anything under the water~” You grab the back of his clothes to stop him from diving in. “Wow you both fell for that.” Shanks’s head is going crazy but it stops.

“Both?” You flinch.

“Yes, I was you earlier. I almost got your friend just by being a little sexy about it. Or are you two friends? Is it complicated? Not that I care that much anyway.” You and Shanks stare at each other before speaking at the same time.

“You like me too!?”

“Wait, why are you shocked!? You see yourself right there!”

“It’s hard to register what’s going on right now, okay!?” Everything goes silent.

…

…

…

“You two are going to be silent? Really? After this? Don’t tell me I’m not going to get a kill and you both are going to be stupid.” You(?) flick your tail underwater, displeased.

“So you were trying to seduce me! That’s low!” Your captain yells and the siren’s expression sours.

‘I should’ve tried ripping his head off when he dunked it underwater.’ Shanks clears his throat and calms his mind down. He’s acting childish because of how flustered he is but he can’t be a fool about this.

“So, we ended up both liking each other! I should thank you! I forgive you for trying to seduce and kill me, right?” He looks back at you and you kiss him. The kiss lasts less than 5 seconds but when you pull away you see Shanks beet red again. “okay, yeah, people that like each other do this.” He takes a deep breath and pulls you in for another kiss that lasts longer. The siren says a word in his head that isn’t nice. When you pull away both of your faces are hot.

“Don’t look at a fake me like that anymore. You saw my dick earlier already, and if you want to see it again I can show you.” Shanks grins and you two kiss again. There's a splash and you almost fall off the rock from a small wave.

“Just leave alre-”

“Thank you!” The captain yells, catching the siren off guard. “You know what, why don't you guys party with us?”

“??? Huh???”

_____________________

You and the crew sit at shore of the lagoon, some on the rocks as you all party with the sirens. Some are louder, some are quietly talking, you spot a siren next to Yasopp; she looks like she’s apologizing. You hear scooting next to you and see Shanks with sparkling eyes.

“Kiss?” You stare at him for a moment before giving him a smooch on the lips. The only male siren in the background gives a mental clapping as congratulations.

I dont actually know if sirens that use illusion to look like the person you love most is a thing, but i see the trope of "something acts like the one you love" a lot in media. I got the idea to use sirens and write about it bc i saw someone else do it and it never occured to me i could fsr lolol. If youre into mythology and this is really wrong.. shhh just pretend that its right. Also, pretend this was posted on monday. I forgot that i post on mondays now.

[tonycries]

Superman

Synopsis. Hot superheroes.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, superhero!JJK men, Venom, slight tentacIes, sIight bréeding, aphrodísiacs, rough s, spítting, chokíng, p sIapping, p talking, manhandIing, HEADLOCKS, matíng presses, enemies-to-Iovers (Geto), handcuffs, pIot, REACTIONS, paparazzi, x-ray vision, super strength, heightened senses, true form!Sukuna, four arms, POWERS, ínappropriate use of powers, making superheroes BREAK, creampíes, cúmpIay, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Mwahahaha…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Venom.

“So…let me get this straight-” Temples throbbing—you’re unsure whether that was from just how many times your boyfriend’s had to explain his particular…conundrum to you, or from the conundrum itself.

And Toji sits in front of you with his hands clutched on top of the table- almost in a pleading motion. He looks around warily at the other people in this bustling café - why on Earth he decided to choose such a public place for such a confession was inconceivable to you.

It was a wonder in and of itself when you don’t burst into hysterics, “You were in your lab working on some experiments you should definitely not have been working on-” Shooting him a look that receives you a sheepish grin. “-and ended up getting infected by some…parasite?”

“Symbiote.”

“Right. Symbiote.” You correct tightly, “And this symbiote can talk, think, and even make itself known through you?”

“Ah- pretty much.” Toji shrugs.

“And this symbiote wants to see me why-”

“You’re ovulating.”

The café seems to come to a standstill around you. 

Servers, customers, even the new intern that’d been blatantly dozing off at the counter jerks his head up and throws a glance at your table—or more accurately to figure out the utterly inhuman voice that’d erupted from your table. 

It was deep. It was gravelly.

It sounded like - in its alien desperation to assimilate to this society - it’d meshed together as many human voices as it could possibly make, and in the end had come up with something that sounded like everything but.

And, of course, that voice had come from your boyfriend of three years.

Toji Fushiguro.

Though he was either ignorant or uncaring - knowing Toji, it was likely both - to the stares that were being thrown his way. He was far too busy fussing around this…symbiote and its separate thoughts and voices, batting around his head as though shooing away a particularly annoying fly. But you’d seen it—fuck, for the briefest second, you’d seen it…the way that this black, murky substance not quite of Earth-like matter had flickered over Toji’s handsome face for a second.

Slime-like skin.

Haunting white eyes.

A long, loooooooong tongue.

You shudder just imagining it.

“Sorry ‘bout that, doll.” Toji grits out- “His name’s Venom and he’s a real pain in the ass.”

You’re barely thinking twice before you utter, “And…how can we fix this?” 

Voice nothing more than a whisper. Though perhaps owing to those suddenly-honed senses of his, Toji can hear you perfectly. “According to my hypothesis, there should be one way in which once the symbiote is completely satiated of its more…base needs, then it parts peacefully with the host. But this is still unfounded- besides, I’d never fuckin’ ask you to-”

“I’ll do it.”

Toji pauses.

“Eh?”

And you’re meeting his shocked expression with one of pure steel, “I’ll do it.”

.

.

.

In almost no time, you’re back in Toji’s laboratory and bent over his desk—what had meant to be a trail run- what had meant to be a simple discussion with the symbiote to test Toji’s hypothesis had ended up with the most looooong, lecherous thrusts being pumped into the back of your cunt.

Your thighs clench together, moans echoing out and hitting the four corners of the walls.

Just the simplest plaps! of Toji’s ravenous hips comin’ down onto yours was enough to send your heels skittering- forced to stand up a little straighter. He’s cleanly lifting you off a few inches just with the probin’ thrusts of his cock—and as Toji bottoms out once more, he’s rushing you straight into your nth high of the night.

Peak after peak.

Thrust after thrust.

The seventh round that you were feeling his thick, throbbing cock piston you through—though according to Toji, they were called trials. 

Trials during which those waves of bliss shred through your core n’ straight up to your muddled head- one that’s immediately getting bombarded by that same gravely tone from before.

“Mmm, you smell sweeter when you cum.”

You startle, “Wh-what was that?”

“Fucked so stupid you can’t hear? Humans are so interesting…” As you’re tentatively turning your head over your shoulder, you’re seeing that Toji’s figure was suddenly taller…towering…covered in that black, goo-like substance from earlier—his face splits from cheek to cheek with a sharp-toothed smile, and suddenly he’s letting escape the most bone-chilling laugh. “I wonder how much sweeter you shall smell when I plant you with my seed-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” Toji’s struggling to gain dominance of the symbiote- though you still weren’t sure how exactly the system worked. You’d determined that it was a dual rule, of sorts, in which one could ‘fight’ the other for control of the body. 

And right now, your boyfriend was the clear winner.

Groaning as he’s winning back control—and with the regaining of his body, he’s bombarded with the sudden sensations of your hot cunt enclosing around his shaft. Sucking. Slurping. Just so thick and throbbing to be even deeper inside you- you’re unsure whether this was just your overstimulated brain talking, but you could’ve sworn that Toji felt even bigger than usual-

“You’re welcome for that, heh.”

You jump, “Wh-what was that?”

“You’re fuckin’ welcome.” The symbiote in Toji’s body utters, and you’re shivering at the sensation of Venom’s looooong lavish tongue dripping down the side of your throat. Licking. “Venom can change shape however we like, we can make ourselves bigger…”

And you can’t fucking give a response to that—you can’t. Because just then that mazin’ tip of Toji’s cock is expanding far beyond what you’re used to.

He’s shovelling in even more inches than you knew he possibly had- he’s thrashing against your cervix and digging in as though he’d probe even deeper if he could- he’s swelling up so much inside your tight walls that it honestly feels as though you’re about to be split down the middle—

“Mmmm, became even sweeter. Heh, you liked that.” Those honed teeth of his graze over your neck, easy enough for him to tear through. “How about curved?”

Immediately bendin’ in such a delicious curve- one that strikes the end of his shaft directly against your g-spot. He doesn’t even have to try. 

Your thighs quake as you feel his flared mushroom tip swabbing n’ stirring and messing up your insides with such an extreme shape. Plunging. Prodding around. The degrees of his curvature bent juuuuuust the right amount that it’d hit most of your tender spots-

“Or what about tentacles-”

“Wait-”

“That fuckin’ jerk.” Soon enough, Toji’s interrupting whatever lecherous plan the alien had for you, and instead using his original cock to pinpoint your insides.

Though Venom might have had the ability to change his shape- absolutely nothing could match Toji. Nothing could match the way he’d already memorized the locations of your sweetest bundles of nerves n’ how exactly you liked them stimulated—whether it was the quick, rapid strokes of just his very flared tip, or the achingly long strokes that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your back arches, and your moans crescendo louder than ever as your boyfriend reaches down to twiddle with your sensitive nub. “Right?”

Attempting to look back at him through your sobs, “Wh-what was that, baby?”

“I said—” Toji seethes out between haaaard strokes of his rugged cock- absolutely vicious. He wasn’t taking his time with you today, he was poundin’ your poor cervix raw with his tunneling tip. “Wasn’t he a fuckin’ jerk? Thinking that he’d be able to fuck my girl…”

“Y-yeah…” You’re acutely aware of the fact that Venom was hearing every single word being said. Likely simmering beneath. Likely attempting to regain control and make you spill the truth-

“Uh-huh?” But Toji was on a roll now. As the words spat between his scarred mouth grow faster, so do the ministrations on your pulsing clit. “Wasn’t he just delusional? Thinking that you’d like that alien cock- heh.”

Pathetically nodding along—unsure whether that was for the question or for just how good it felt. “Yeah, mmmm- fuck.”

“Right? And wasn’t he wrong?”

“Yeah-”

“Wasn’t he useless?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Wasn’t this pussy missin’ me?”

“Fuck, yes.” 

And what you’re faced with next wasn’t a question, an insult to Venom, or anything else that you might have expected- it was a sudden spank!

Right on top of your clit.

Right before Toji’s already-elongated cock swivels a few inches deeper than you remember him being able to before. Thicker. Meaner. The top of his shaft was swelling into a fatter circumference, and you swear you can hear the squelches of orifices you’ve never known being opened up—

His sharp canines gnaw down on the shell of your ear, and shivers run down your spine at the guttural tone of his voice. “Then why are you so fuckin’ wet, my little liar?”

“O-oh.”

Shit, he’d known.

He’d been able to hear you, too.

And now you were paying the price: you were feeling Toji’s relentless cadence but with Venom’s ability to bend and prolong his shaft as much as he wanted to. His tendrils of symbiote substance glissade down his cock and stretch out your walls just a bit more—wrapped just around where Toji’s already-massive length was.

And if you thought that that wasn’t enough- you’re damn near losing your mind at the feeling of those fingers twiddlin’ at your clit starting to tingle. Starting to transform.

Before you know it, they feel strangely…tentacle-like. They reminded you of Venom’s own tendrils, though with a sultry suctioning sensation to it that made your body wrack with pleasure- “Oh my god—fuck, Toji, how are you even-”

“You forget that Venom is a part of me now.” He murmurs through a grin, hips only accelerating. Cock only lengthening- fingers only suckling. “And you’re not getting out of this any time soon, doll. At least, not until we have our hypothesis.”

“Shit…”

“Hypothesis schmipothesis. I get to breed her after.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Superman.

“My love…” Just the way that Nanami uttered your sweet, sweet pet name…it was anything but. As though he was a man that’d worshipped every name, statue, and deity in the world—and the only one to answer his wretched prayers was you.

He whispers your name.

Lightning strikes.

Nanami was silhouetted against the tall floor-to-ceiling window of your apartment; his red-clad feet hovering just a few inches off the ground, chest emblazoning the famous ‘S’ of which you could only see the ghost-like outline. Like a faint memory. That long cape of his drapes behind his broad shoulders, flowing in a breezeless wind. His head was bowed. His face utterly expressionless. 

Moonlight falls upon him like a knighthood, but something more untoward.

The night was dark and so had been the day of fighting crime—or so you’d assumed. Usually, when your boyfriend arrived home it was with kisses to your cheek and bouquets of flowers. 

You had no idea what happened today, but…he doesn’t respond to a single one of your calls. Not a single one of your pleas. 

The only thing you can do is take a step forward-

And he jerks as though he’d just been shot by several of the lightning flares outside. A thousand bolts of electricity and even more, more, and more. Even though he had his gaze turned downwards, Nanami doesn’t need to see to sense you-

He already knew.

“My love.” He repeats, as though a broken CD. There was a wisp of something so carnal in his tone, something dark and drenched in…a desire that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that made shivers cascade across your body, however. “My love, don’t-”

“Don’t what, Kento?” You’re insisting, even though you fight yourself not to take another step forward as per his wishes. “I need to know what happened, baby.”

“You need to know.” He repeats once more—was he even capable of anything else? You’re starting to grow even more concerned and reconsider your internal pledge when- “I was injured.”

Concern pours over you like a bucket of cold water, “Injured? Where-”

“Not physically.” Nanami spits out through clenched teeth, every syllable difficult for him to enunciate as though coated in glue n’ sticking to the roof of his tongue. In the pale moonlight you could see that his skin was covered in a sort of perspiration - something almost feverish and flushed. “It’s- fuck, I need you to know-”

“Kento, I’m scared for-”

“I need to fuck you.”

And as he finally rushes out the confession, large exhales seep out of him like every bit of his remaining sanity—a weight had been lifted off. But little did he seem to realize that that weight was a keystone for a dam. 

And now he felt like he was about to fucking burst-

“Lex Luthor- latest invention—fuck.” Interrupting his own explanation with a rugged groan - not one that was quite pained, but not…not either. “None taken, no casualties.” Something crossed between rage and ecstasy. How very like Nanami to utter of other before himself- “But I was injected with- fuck—”

You take a step forward, “Kento-”

“-aphrodisiac.”

“Oh.” Heart stopping. Without even thinking, you’re taking a quick scan of his figure to make sure that he wasn’t bluffing about no physical wounds, and when all seems clear on his upper half, your eyes can’t help but drop to the area between Nanami’s chiselled legs - and your sweet boyfriend’s Superman outfit had always been particularly flattering on his body, but this—he looked about nine inches straight through his tight latex and throbbing. Aching. 

You can speak no longer, and him barely enough- “Stay away.”

Another step. “Kento.”

“Darling, I’m going to ruin you.”

And another. “I don’t mind.”

There isn’t the burst and then the frenzy of lips on lips, skin on skin, as you might’ve expected at first. No, not at all. Your words linger in the bedroom for a few more seconds - tight and tempting, just when you think that the tension in the air is going to stretch so taut that it might never snap—Nanami moves. 

Just the slightest action: he stops hovering. Setting his feet down on the windowsill for the first time - and it hits you just then why he hadn’t been touching any bit of your apartment for so long.

Because the moment that Nanami came in contact with any - any - part of you, he was going to go fucking insane. That is, if he didn’t have your pretty pussy to take it out on—in almost no time, you’re finding yourself pressed flat against your king-sized mattress and having your boyfriend’s thickened tip swirlin’ your insides. 

He was just so hot and needy.

Perhaps even greater in girth than you remember him - there was a vein down the middle of his length that stood out n’ massaged every inch of your insides. Throb-throb-throbbing away inside of you as the crowned edge of his shaft bottomed out- fuck, he doesn’t even spend the long, sensual hours of foreplay as he usually would.

Nanami merely throws your legs over his half-uniformed shoulder, merely clasps onto one side of your hips, merely tunnels his angry cock in and out—

In and out. In and out. You’re feeling him glide his handsome nosebridge down the column of your throat- stopping just where you were most sensitive, he’s twitchin’ in-between your puffy folds as he takes in your pheromones. Groaning, you swear you feel him grow even bigger inside of you—“My love—”

It’s that absolutely broken tone of his that makes you jerk your head in response. Blinking up tearily at the blond man, “K-Kento?”

His shaggy, golden bangs were curtained over his eyes n’ covering most of his gaze now - and you’re unsure whether you should be thankful or concerned that you couldn’t measure the sheer primal desire in them anymore. It was obscured from you—and all you’re getting revealed of him are the constant grunts whenever his ruddied cockhead hits the back of your pussy, his shivering hips, his mantra of your name. “I need to know…my love, I need to- fuck, are you okay?” 

“I am—” Strangely enough, it made your cunt grow even wetter to know that he’s caring so much about you even when he was in the depths of the effects of the aphrodisiac-

His mind was wiped clean of anything but his base needs- and yet, there was always a part of him that knew you were what’s most important. And the superhero reaches one roughened hand down to sweetly cup your face, dragging the tip of his thumb down to wipe away any beads of sweat- “Are you s-sure? I need you to be sure-”

“I am sure, Kento.” Insisting. And though you feel just a little awful for interrupting his well-meaning pleas—you also needed to feel his thick, textured cock hitting eeeeevery single inch of you. And though you’re at his complete and utter mercy, you can’t help but squirm your hips around to swivel more of his solid inches inside. “Please- fuck, I need more of you. Don’t hold back-”

“Fuh-fuuuuuuck—” A zig-zagging vein pops out on his forehead, freckled with sweat. “Don’t say that-”

“But I am saying that.” Wrangling your legs off of his sculptured shoulders- or at least, you’re attempting to. But Nanami only needs to drift a single hand up to keep you pliably in place—he’s locking both ankles behind his neck with one hand, long fingers holding them gently yet sternly. It’s all he needs to halt your restless hips as he hits a sensitive spot and ploughs iiiiiiin.

Thrust after thrust.

Again and again.

Every single one of them locates that cute target of your nerves- instantly, it was almost like magic. That deliciously curved end of his shaft manages to maze his way inside, spreadin’ apart your gluey walls and heading straight for that area—all he has to do is follow the channel of your cunt until he’s led straight to that spot he bashes nicely. 

Sloppily.

“Darling, you’re close.”

“I-I am?” Eyes shooting wide open- fuck, he’s right. It takes only one more thrust of his vein-covered cock for you to register the thrills of adrenaline shooting up your spine. You’re arching straight into his chiselled chest, “Oh, shit…I am.”

“My love didn’t know?” Nanami nearly titters. “S’okay…your Kento’s going to fuh-fuck you through it. Your Kento’s going to make you feel so good—ngh.”

And as he utters this, his cadence only grows sloppier.

“May I…” Just so cautious of the way you’re being jostled to n’ fro - of the way you’re nearly hitting the headboard, and the roundness of his balls smack! against your cunt. Nanami has enough clarity to feel almost…sheepish about the way that you’re clearly dumbed down on his cock. His greedy, greedy cock. “May I make you cum- oh, may I go…just a little harder?”

“Kento—” You’re pouting, “I want you to go harder-”

“I-”

“I want you to go the hardest.” And as he’s still half-uniformed, you’re able to reach up and twist your fist in the smooth fabric. Tugging him down, you snarl- “If you want me to cum, Kento, then you better not hold back.”

And Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a single syllable.

He’s merely slowing his hips down and reeling his hips back, back, backwards—he lets the rounded tip of his cock circle your hole for a few seconds. Just the slightest few seconds, before that pulsing length of his shoves deep inside- not even stopping at your g-spot, he’s heading straight for your womb. 

That soft, sopping womb of yours- “My love…” Just the last thing you’re hearing before you’re cumming, “My love, it’s going to take now.”

Blabbering, “Wh-what—”

“It’s going to take.”

And a thick, ropey warmth floods you deeeep from your core- spreadin’ into every nook, cranny, and crevice until you’re feeling a little lightheaded. “Did you really mean…” As your voice murmurs out in pure disbelief, those clingy wads of his cum get pinpointed into even the tiniest sweet spots inside of you—places that you weren’t even sure you had. He’s pressing his thickened tip against the sides of your walls and watching as your sweet, sweet juices get sprayed out. “You- you really didn’t mean…”

Nanami utters nothing but a few raspy groans, eyes locked on the forefront of your core as he shovels inside. Inside and inside. “I did.”

There was an intensity in his eyes that you swear you’re feeling against your skin- and you did. It burned. “Did it seriously—”

“It did.” And his round, reddened tip ends up sticking straight against your womb - fucking you through your own high, fucking you through his drivelling wads of seed. A final swat. “It did, my loves.”

And you’re noting the change of your pet name.

Because you already knew what he meant- it had taken. Nanami Kento was using his superhuman sight to peer through you, watching as his cum trickles into the deepest depths of your womb—and his mouth quirks up into a handsome grin as he notes that it’ll be…

A daughter. 

.

.

.

“Congratulations”

You gape at the screen.

And a quick glance at Nanami reveals that he was doing the very same- though perhaps in not such an outward manner. As soon as possible, you’re staring right back at the screen that showed a little bean of something your doctor was pointing towards and explaining—something that flows in one ear and out the other.

You were still registering that there was a little bean of something.

You don’t know when - it might be second, it might be minutes, it might be days later - but Nanami speaks. Something silent and barely-there, a breathless whisper as though he was afraid that it’d shatter the mirage shown on screen, “A-and…the…?”

He can’t complete his sentence. Though Dr. Shoko Ieri is a professional, and she picks up on what your husband means quite quickly.

He clasps your hand - newly-minuted gold wedding ring cold against your skin - and waits as she peers at the screen once more. Because he knows this—he knows this. He’s seen this with his superhuman vision. 

He’d told you a few months ago just then…

And yet, Nanami’s heart flips. 

She smiles warmly at the two of you, “It’s a girl.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Batman.

“It’s you.” Geto chuckles, “Why did I know that it would be you?”

The sound of his low, throaty laugh is enough to send shivers down your spine—-and…perhaps even lower. Though that’s not something you wanted to unpack right about now.

You had to remember where you were: the mansion of Geto Suguru, billionaire, playboy, mysterious down to the core. The mansion had been as expectedly gaudy and gilded as most rich people loved their homes, but what had drawn you to it the most had been the safe room, of course.

And so here you were standing with a couple gold bricks in your bag and a few more to be packed up- that shouldn’t take long, you assume. And with a careless sigh, you’re ignoring the man himself and getting back to loading them back in—“So? Happy to see me?”

“Oh, less than.” Geto replies. 

“Don’t lie~” Purring, the skin-tight latex of your suit twinkles underneath the rich yellow lighting as you’re turning back to him. You shoot a flirtatious wink his way, “I know this is going to be the source of your wet dreams for years after.”

“Nightmares, more like.” He hobbles a step closer. It puts you on edge.

“Then how about we keep some distance from our nightmares, hm?” You’re gathering up your large loot—much heavier than an average person would be able to carry, though you’re holding it daintily between your fingers with ease. “I come to rob you, you catch me robbing you, you let me go—it’s a win-win for everybody. I really wouldn’t want to use force…”

“And I wouldn’t want to use force either.” Geto smiles so pleasantly, “I don’t really care about the gold- but there’s a pearl necklace in there that used to belong to my mother. How about you leave that and be on your merry way, hm?” 

You pout, “But I liked the pearl necklace.”

And his gaze grows just a little sharper, “I’m afraid that can’t happen, kitty.”

“Oh, I loooove it when you call me that~” Fluttering your lashes at him.

He takes a step closer, “I know your games, Catwoman.”

“And yet you fall for them every time, Batman.”

Did you forget to mention that Geto Suguru - billionaire, playboy, mysterious and also perhaps the most attractive man you’ve ever set your eyes on - was also Batman? Despite that, you still had the most infamous crime-fighting vigilante wrapped around your finger as though he was nothing but a low-grade thief.

And he was trapped in your web now (what was the cat version of that, anyway?)

Leagues below you. He’s biting down on his plush, pretty lip to hold back a whimper as you’re reeling your hips aaaaaall the way back to squeeze his blushin’ tip—holding it there for a few seconds before you give the superhero a good bounce. 

Making him throw his head back with a groan- Geto lets out a slew of swears once you’re starting up the sloppiest cadence. Back and forth. “D-don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty…”

“What was that—?” Pretending to gasp, you’re teasingly leaning your body forwards in a mocking attempt to hear him better. “What was that, Bat? I didn’t hear you- was that a stutter I heard?”

“Fuck off-” Spitting between clenched teeth. Geto’s clasping onto either side of your naked hips, using that strength of his you loooooved being manhandled by to roll your hips in figure-eight motions - just drag-drag-dragging the outline of his cock along your sweet insides. You could feel every ridge n’ crevice of his veins decorating your walls, massaging them into something even softer he loved to fuck up into. 

The two of you were sitting - barely - on the luxurious armchair he had in his safe room. Creaking and ricketing with age every time that Geto arched his hips backwards and gave you a thorough probe—inside. And though you couldn’t say that you planned to end up here, you didn’t quite deny that you had plans to end up in his master bedroom - why else would you have gotten caught?

The both of you knew that if you’d actually wanted to steal something, then you would’ve been out of this damn mansion hours ago. 

Gritting his pearly white canines, Geto crushes your hips further down into his and ruts up into you—“Sh-shit….” 

“What was that about stuttering, gorgeous?”

“Fuck off—”

“I’m fucking you, actually.” He spits between clenched teeth, gyrating your hips around so that the cute nub of your clit rubs up against his fuzzy base. It’s such a carnal feeling to have those curls of jet-black massaging where you were most sensitive, getting more n’ more drenched by the second. By the motions of your dripping wet pussy. He’s snarling, “That’s fuckin’ right- wipe that smug look off of your face. I already know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?” And you’re just barely managing to scrounge up whatever’s left of your sanity together to respond. “And what is that, Monsieur Bat?”

“C’est l’homme chauve-souris.” Geto rolls his amethyst eyes, “And it’s that you think you have me- fuck, underneath your kitty toes.”

“Kinky~”

However, he’s learned not to entertain you with yet another outburst—instead, Geto’s pulling all his energy into inching his hips backwards and planting another thorough thrust deep into the depths of your cunt. So hard that you think he might just have left a mark.

So accomplished in his grin that you think he might’ve been aiming for it

You wouldn’t have been surprised to know that billionaire playboy Geto Suguru liked to let everyone know that he was fucking you- especially you. The hottest cat burglar in all of Gotham. 

The same one he’s been infatuated with since the first time he saw you.

But he was fucking you like he hated you.

The sweetest thing he’s doing yet is cascading a hand down your front- left fingertip teasingly pressing your pussylips apart. It doesn’t take him long - not long at all - to find your pretty clit and draw a few circular motions on top of it—watching as you buck and whine straight into his hands. 

And the meanest thing he’s done yet is reach his other hand behind you.

Because suddenly you’re feeling something cold and metallic click! into place.

You gasp.

You should’ve known that crime-fighting vigilantes often worked from the shadows; from a darkness of which even your feline eyes cannot piece through. You didn’t have eyes in the back of your head, did you? Although perhaps Batman had a gadget for that, too…

And although you already know that you’re fucked- it’s not until the jingle of handcuffs emanates from behind you that you’re really letting the situation sink in. It’s not that you’re afraid of Geto or anything he could do to you, but…it’s just that you’re afraid of what you might do given this forced proximity.

Something stupid like- like admit your feelings to the ever-elusive hero or something. Disgusting. 

On top of that, you’re unable to motion your hips as you were doing so previously. Stuck pathetically grinding back into thrusts that he was already planting onto your cunt, the fatness of his girth sending you to the edge- 

You’re whimpering are you can’t do anything you’d usually do like clasp onto his pretty throat or shove your fingers down his mouth. “Sugu…aw, c’mon—”

“Now I’m Sugu?” Geto snickers, “What happened to Bat? Or loser? Or fuck off? Or I never-want-to-see-you-again?”

Fluttering your lashes innocently, “You know I jest.” To no avail, you’re attempting to slip out of those handcuffs as you’d have done with any other normal ones - but you knew better than to underestimate Batman. As you expected, no matter how much you’re squeezing and molding your hands against that metal, it keeps on adjusting to your shape and restraining you. Keeping you hostage. Only one look at him and you already know that Geto’d spent a fortune creating these…perhaps just for you. “C’mon, baby, let me out of these~”

“No can do, kitty.” He chuckles. And the audacity of this man- he’s straying his right hand down your spine and groping your ass—“Next time we’re keeping the suit on because I wanna pull your tail.”

You scoff.

And he raises one dark brow. Thumb pressing down even harder on your clit, “What was that?”

“N-nothing…” You whimper, entire body wracking with shivers. It’s a few more sloppy thrusts before you can thrust yourself to speak without your voice cracking again—you didn’t want to give more ammunition for his entertainment. “Oh, Geto Suguru, when I get out of these handcuffs I’m going to fucking-”

“Kill me?” He smirks, “We can see you try.”

“You think I can’t?”

Geto shakes his head. “No, I expect it. Just make sure you kiss me first.”

And you can’t deny - neither to yourself or him - that that’s leaving you even wetter than you’d anticipated. The sheen of your arousal dripping through his dark happy trail, leading down to that perfectly chiselled six-pack of his. 

He merely cracks a grin and plants his right hand on one side of your waist—drilling into you even harder than before.

“You know I love you, Bat.” You’re grumbling out almost reluctantly past the clogged mess of whines and moans and tears in your throat. 

“Mmm, love you, too, kitty.”

.

.

.

“Mister Geto, I have collected those crime reports that you requested me to-” Miguel’s deep tone halts immediately at the sight before him. He’s standing by the edge of Geto Suguru’s sprawling master bedroom - the subject of countless features in architectural magazines, and the dreams of high-society alike - eyes widening at the dual figures of you and his employer, bundled up and clearly unclothed beneath the covers. 

Clinging onto one another.

The crime-fighting vigilante and his criminal lover.

Though it wasn’t necessarily a secret around these parts that no matter how many women and men Geto Suguru meets, there will always be a certain cat-eared crime-lover he goes back to…Geto himself wouldn’t appreciate it if such word spread now, would he? This wasn’t the first time he’d crawled right back to you and this won’t be the last- hold on. 

Were his sunglasses deceiving him or was his cold, uptight employer actually smiling in his sleep? Heavens above, this might just be the last time.

This might just. 

Miguel settles for the thought that he’d tease the billionaire about it over dinner—very, very late dinner by the looks of it. 

He leaves the report on the nearest desk - of which there were many, because this is Geto Suguru that we’re speaking about - and heads towards the door. 

Taking one last peak.

Yeah, this might just be the last time. He trusts his intuition, that he’ll be walking into this scene more often than not in the coming years.

Yeah, this might just be for good. 

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Nightwing.

“Who knew that the Nightwing…” You’re purring—smiling like the cat that’s got the cream - or more like the hero that’s just caught her rival. “-sex symbol of Gotham, hottest man of the year, wanted by men and women and everyone in-between…”

And Choso merely bucks weakly beneath you - his hips stutterin’ with every single fucking milimeter that he’s shovelling inside of you.

Choso was red and furiously hot between your legs—thick. Throbbing even harder as he feels his ruddied, red tip scrape the bottom of your pussy; his fat cock twitches there a few times as he registers the soft, spongy platform he was feeling—this was…Those beautiful, brown eyes of his widen as it sinks in. Gasping. Shaking.

And it takes merely two - two - seconds of being stuffed inside you for the famed hero to throw his head back and cum.

And you’re finally finishing your sentence, “-a virgin.”

How had this all happened? How did you end up here?

You could blame it all on the spiked punch, you could blame it all on the lavish ceremony - the highs and lows of the red carpet, ah, they always did tend to make you feel a little more reckless than usual—what’s that saying about all publicity is good publicity? Or perhaps it was the fault of the Hero Awards altogether.

Gathered here with the most elite of the elite, the best heroes from around the world; where they patted one another on their backs and paraded in designer. Reporters starved for the attention of the saviours as much as any competent villain.

Though you couldn’t say too much about them - you yourself were here, too.

But you told yourself that you were here solely for one award—and one award only. All those about best costume, best comeback during a fight, best fancam, best fistfight didn’t matter (though that wasn’t to say that you weren’t grateful, it’d been sweeping wins for all of which you’d teared up). 

You were here for Best Hero of the Year.

The best.

The strongest.

The most battle-savvy.

The most competent.

The best of the best.

Once that nomination letter had arrived, you’d held it to your chest - in pure disbelief - for a long hour afterwards. It was an honor to be nominated—the greatest honor. 

To win this award a panel of seasoned heroes would tally up all of your fights for this year, then grade them based on a variety of aspects such as difficulty, saves, assists, honor; the total would contribute towards a count that determined the winner. And though you’d been cautious about not winning - there were many other wonderful, more experienced heroes nominated - you just didn’t expect for the announcer to open up the golden cue card and read…

Fucking Nightwing.

Which is why you’d cornered him at the after-party - for a congratulations between you two that’d turned into passive aggressiveness, and passive-aggressiveness that’d turned into a proper argument you’re sure the reporters caught wind of, and an argument that ended up with you and Choso tangled up in your hotel room.

Pressing him down with your hips- you’re trembling at the feeling of his warm sap gushing out of you. It’s creating an ivory sheen down the inner sides of your thighs, smearin’ down Choso’s chiselled hips in a way that was just so lewd—and you’re more than happy to make an even bigger mess. 

To throw your head back and grind your hips down onto his.

Choso hiccups, his upper half attempting to surge upwards- only for you to press one pretty finger down on his shoulder. And just the softest push has him tumbling back into the plush pillows, “Shit- y-you can’t just…do that to me.”

“Do what, baby?” You smirk down at him. 

And right as he opens those cute, trembling lips of his to answer—you’re tightenin’ your thighs around his waist and jerking your hips even harder against his. His prominent v-lines massage where you were situated, and Choso groans as his blushin’ cocktip manages to push and pinpoint even the tiniest orifices inside you.

He’s still drooling out beads of cum, pooling at the base of his cock. So much of it- shit, was he still cumming?

Or was he cumming…again?

Unsure of what you were feeling, you’re veering your gaze down and attempting to get a better look. And sure as day- not only was it your translucent slick n’ his precum that was flooding you from the inside, but Choso’s ivory cum sprays out and and mixes into something so lewd-

“Fuck- fuck…” Your mouth waters at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim - so much of it that you’re wondering just how overworked his hefty balls must be. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, “You’re cumming again, Cho—”

“Th-this is exactly what I mean.” Choso sobs out, eyes glittering with tears, “You can’t just do that to me- you can’t make me feel so…stupid when you fuck me.”

Amused, “Stupid, huh? I don’t know if I have to try-”

“See, m’so gone that I’d agree—” That soft whine of his makes you so much wetter. Peering up at you with his half-lidded gaze - boring his dilated pupils into yours, hanging his jaw maddeningly. He presses a simple jerk of his ruddied cockhead into the deepest depths of your cunt - dead fucking serious. “I’d agree that m’stupid. I’d agree that m’pathetic.”

“Awwww…” Arching your back, he’s attempting this cute attempt at ruttin’ into you that you’re indulging in. You let him thrash his needy cockhead again and again and again-

“I-I’m nothing but a fuckin’ ngh, virgin that doesn’t deserve to fuck a pussy like this.” His lips wobble out- and you might have said something about him being too hard on himself…you might.

But the dirtier that Choso was speaking - the harder he was on himself - the harder he was getting.

Longer. Girthier—and his thorough thrusts were spearheading even faster by his tip. Taking out the tension in everything he was saying by ramming straight into your cervix - hard and fast. It twitches right at the very back of your spongy womb…and you’re swearing that a grin grows across Choso’s face as he registers that displeased expression on your face- who did he think he was to try and gain control over you?

“Now now—” You’re pressing both palms on top of his sweaty chest, and you can’t deny that they felt so toned and muscular underneath your touch. “Trying to be a big boy, Nightwing?”

“Only for you.” He croons.

“Cute.” You wrinkle your nose, “But that’d be a lot more smooth if you weren’t cumming- again.”

“Fuh-fuck.”

When was this? The third time? The fourth? Either way, all Choso knows is that he can’t stop those furious zaps of pleasure from coursing through his entire body—every inch and vessel and atom. It’s collecting at the mushroomy tip of his cock, red and swollen, then dribbling out as cum. 

Not even.

Choso barely manages a few pearly white droplets before he’s shooting fucking blanks-

Head throwing back. Gasps echoing out of him. Chest heaving and heaving as you’re riding his overstimulated cock craaaaaazy-

“What was that about Year’s Best Hero?” You’re tittering out, staring into Choso’s utterly pretty face as he’s cumming through tears. Spark upon spark. Strong enough to make his toes curl, and you’re ruthless in the way you’re wrapping your warm pussy around him and milking him dry-

His pinkish lips wobble, “Wh-what was that…”

“How’re you gonna fight crime if you can’t even- ngh, handle a pussy?” 

“W-well, I didn’t expect to be facing such a…formidable foe.” Blabbing out - utter nonsense at this point. He was pussydrunk—if only those at the Hero Award could see him like this. “You could take on a second job as a villain…j-just with that pussy…and also just f’me…”

“I take that as a…compliment?” 

“You’re welcome—ngh.” Choso whimpers out- before there’s a sudden twitch at the crown of his swollen shaft. And those brown brows of his furrow, “B-but don’t be nice to me, however, it’s gonna make me cum- again. Mmm.”

“Oh, Choso…”

.

.

.

The glitz. The glamour. The fans begging you to sign their tits. 

At the very next Hero Awards, there’s a buzz like never before. 

For several reasons, of course: first of all, the matching outfits between you and the famously handsome Nightwing (though you’d argue that yours is the one that looked better, secondly because some drama-lovers anticipated a rerun of the infamous fight between you and aforementioned handsome hero, and last but not least—because of the new category of awards you’d been nominated for.

Most Inspirational Hero Couple.

And it was no surprise that Choso had won this one, but at least this time—you’d won it, too.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Hulk.

It happened not when he was angry, or excited, or panicked.

The results of a top-secret experiment funded by The University of Tokyo, intended to create human super-soldiers: it had been a failure. And Dr. Ryomen Sukuna had known better than to get his hopes up for such a volatile test subject—he was an expert in the field, 7 PhDs in a variety of sciences from biochemistry to radiophysics, he knew that it could take months, years, even decades before they observed even a mere anomaly similar to what they’d been hoping for.

But fuck- Sukuna had really thought he’d done it. He’d made humans immune to gamma radiation.

At least, he’d thought he did.

Ryomen Sukuna blinked his eyes open after the sudden explosion of radiation, and at most he’d expected to see his laboratory wrecked, his data completely wiped. At most.

He didn’t expect to be seeing it from eight feet high.

He didn’t expect to be seeing it with four eyes.

He didn’t expect to wield four massive arms in an attempt to find any shattered piece of glass from which he may see himself from-

Two mouths let out simultaneous gasps. 

One of them slashed across his muscular stomach.

He was a monster.

It didn’t take a single one of his PhDs for Sukuna to know to flee the scene- not just the building, but Tokyo itself. Sirens loomed in the distance, and the acrid smell of radiation left him in waves- bystanders running to the rubble without realizing the danger. He knew you’d be alerted soon—you.

How could he ever face you like this?

Lo and behold he’d ended up at a squat village in Aogashima island; 358km away from Tokyo with only 160 residents. It was here, tucked behind sprawling mountainsides, that Sukuna had come to discover the little intricacies of his…condition. Through trial and error, through testing upon himself and attempting to control that four-armed version of him. Attempting. 

And so the question: what made him transform? 

He discovered that this monstrous state - which he dubbed to be a Curse state - was triggered by sudden increases of his heartbeat. Rarely anger, or excitement, or panic. What else might possibly raise the disgraced scientist’s heartrate well over 200 bpm?

Arousal.

Which is exactly what he’d been learning to control through his breathing techniques, his meditation, and his celibacy- not that he’d want anyone but you. But fuck…the dreams he’d have of you.

Nightmares, when he wakes up as the monstrous King of Curses. 

Heaven, when the exact source of his nightmares - and wettest dreams - comes knocking at his shunted door one sunny summer day. A furrow between your brows. A furious word or two slipping out at the first sight of him. 

Fuck.

.

.

.

One year, two months, and a few days since…the incident and you’d finally located where your ex-boyfriend (and former colleague) had disappeared. 

And you’d expected him to have sunken into his work in one way or another. 

You’d expected him to have holed himself away in some rural town—as he’d confessed to wanting to do on some nights, just with you. You’d even have expected him to have been working on some strange new project after the failure of his last one- he was the type to take it to heart. A little dramatic, but you expected this.

You just didn’t expect…his transformation.

Right before your very eyes.

Four arms. Four eyes. Two cocks that’d stayed twitchin’ in his baggy pants for a mere few minutes of your conversation- before you had your face pushed into pillows that smelled like him, legs struggling to keep you up, begging for more as Sukuna digs those two ruddied cockheads between your pussylips and sliiiiides in-

Just a few inches.

Just a few.

Before the resistance of your tight entrance gets too much- and Sukuna’s leaning back a bit to allow his cursed second mouth to spit down on your pussy. Hard.

The impact makes you shiver, sticky substance gluing your pussylips together. You swear you hear his second mouth snicker as he swabs that cloying texture with his cockheads, and uses his hands to manhandle you into pliable position - one hand cupping your abdomen and pulling you up- the other digging into the left side of your hips- the other reachin’ down to thumb apart your swollen folds and help him fuck his lengths inside. Thick and throbbing.

In short, slow semi-thrusts. He was just trying to fit inside. “Kuna—” Breathing out open-mouthed against the pillows. Needy.

“Needy brat.”

“Kuna.”

“Sh-shit.” And he wasn’t doing a single bit better than you. Sukuna was letting his head drop into the clammy crook of your neck, gnarled canines grazing on top of your skin- you feel the scowl across his face stretch even more as he pull-pull-puuuuuulls those hot erections backwards.

And then probes aaaaaaall the way back in - languidly. 

“Fuck-” You’re gasping out—seeing pure white behind your eyelids. You almost couldn’t believe it. Sukuna was already sizable- but in this form?

He had his round, reddened tips just barely lodging between your swollen folds. Just so big. Pulsing. Pushing apart your slick walls with his circumferences, throbbing away inside you. Rubbing back and forth a few times to savor the squeeze of your hole - like heaven - before he’s stuffin’ every single nook, cranny, and crevice like never before. 

And the carnal burn between your legs was only made sweeter by the way that Sukuna himself trembled on top of you. He’s letting out a coarse grunt-

Gasping. 

“Fuck—fuck, is this okay?”

And a part of you melts at the utter tenderness in his tone - mixing with a hint of fear. Of disbelief. Ryomen Sukuna was never the type to be vulnerable, not even when the two of you had been dating—but as you look over your shoulder right now, you see that those devilish red eyes of his were observing every minute expression as though searching for a hint of rejection. Of disgust.

A hint that he’d been right about his changed form.

He was inhuman in his physique now, and…and he understands if you’d been scared away at any point-

But you’re only arching your spine and veering your hips back into him- cutting off whatever whirlwind of thoughts was bound to consume him. You’re picking up the pace that he’d been unsurely slowly down, bouncin’ down onto those slick-glossed shafts. They filled you up deliciously. “You don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily again, are you?”

“I-”

“I’m more than okay, Kuna.” 

“And yet-”

“And yet, why won’t you fuck me even harder—” Huffing, you’re managing to get up onto your elbows and gain a bit more leverage. “Spent so long looking for you, y’know…”

“Tch.” The scientist grumbles, but you could feel the way those rotund tips of his twitch just a lil’ inside of you. “Should’ve known-” He’s matching your pace with his own, slamming the lines of his toned abs against the globes of your ass cheeks. “-that you’d be an utter slut for monster cock.”

“Cocks.” You correct.

Just then, the wetness of his second tongue trickles down your pussylips. Gathering up every wad of honeyed slick you were leaking out- he was glissading his tastebuds along every inch of you he could reach: your inner thighs, your cute ass, nearly reaching around to fuck your pretty pussy. “Don’t forget the tongue, too, girlie.”

“I c-could never…” You’re keening out.

“Oh?”

And with a grin, Sukuna second-guesses no longer—before he’s leaning his chiselled front over yours. The hard ridges and lines of his muscles massaging your back, he hooks his fourth muscular arm around your neck and pulls you into a damn headlock-

“Fuh-fuck-” Sukuna hisses through his canines - honed and longer and ready to bite. He ruts into you like a damn animal—“Shit, how I missed this…”

“Shouldn’t have run away then-”

“From the fuckin’ freak?” 

Just the slightest press against your throbbing g-spot - it’s like a trigger for the sweet, sweet squeeze of your walls- so warm n’ hungry for his cocks. And Sukuna jerks into urgent attention, 

And now he wasn’t fucking you slow- he wasn’t taking his time.

Ryomen Sukuna had his muscular hips arched n’ reluctant to part from yours. Probin’ those girthy inches of his inside—

You’re attempting to claw at the headboard for dear life- but his keen eyes immediately catch the sliver of action, and Sukuna wastes no time before tightening his headlock ‘round you until his biceps bulge against your throat, hauling you back into his vicious ploughs. “What?” He breathes, scalding hot against the side of your cheek. “Where are we going, girlie?”

“We?” 

“We. I could never forget her.” He’s rasping out against your skin, sending vibrations across every axiom of you. “Always thought of her—”

“A-and what did you think about?” You’re whimpering.

He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. And you’re disappointed as you feel Sukuna take as much time as his heart desires, pulling out of your pussy with a cute pop! Before he swirls his ruddied tips to soften up your entrance once more, and gives you a thorough thrash- going even deeper than prior. He’s making the eyes roll to the back of your head- he’s finally bottoming out. “I thought about how she might take every inch of me…”

“Oh.”

The tip of his second tongue dips out as though to fuck your cunt simultaneously. 

.

.

.

When you’re accompanying Sukuna back to Tokyo, it’s hand-in-hand.

Large and warm against yours. There were more callouses on his fingers than you remember there being - not those of laboratory test tubes, and flasks, and flipping on centrifuges; but the hardship from the year you didn’t have him—and he didn’t have himself, either. 

But you’re tugging him into the airport, now.

Two tickets booked and a meeting at The University of Tokyo already planned - the two of you didn’t plan to let anyone know of his transformative abilities for now. Perhaps never. 

There were things that the two of you hadn’t sorted out yet: like how would Sukuna explain away his disappearance to the science board? How would you both stay in your cramped Tokyo apartment when he turned into his Curse mode? How would you manage to work on controlling it when…

But you knew the two of you would find a way - you always do.

As you’re standing at the terminal to your flight, the ones at the farthest end of the line, you’re turning around to a lilting voice calling out both your names. Your full names. Who knew such a thing…Faced with a grinning woman in a jet-black suit, tinted sunglasses, and the most accomplished grin across her face. She introduces herself as Tony- or as you may know her: Iron Woman.

And would you and your hulking boyfriend perhaps be interested in a little something called—

Sukuna’s breath hitches.

—The Avengers?

♡ INO TAKUMA - Flash.

“Mr. Flash- Mr. Flash! Just one more question, please…”

“Mr. Flash?” Ino gets a sheepish expression across his face at the esteemed title- one that makes the rest of his team roll their eyes. And he’s turning to the reporter that wastes no time shoving his mic in his face; camera already rolling, news headlines running.

All part of the job—it’s already been an hour since they’ve saved the city (yet again) and they’re still being interviewed, with no sign of it stopping anytime soon. 

And so Ino plasters his camera-ready smile on - the rest of the team might not be as savvy as he was with the media, but he was one of the most popular up-and-coming heroes for a reason. Hah. The people loved him, and he loved the people. He takes the mic from the reporter faster than he can blink, and the man startles out a laugh.

“Woah, did you get that?” He turns uncertainly to the cameraman, who nods though he himself wasn’t too sure. Turning back to the red-clad hero- “You sure are fast. Tell us, Mr. Flash, does this speed affect you in your normal life, too?”

Ino answers, “Well-”

“And what about in the more…intimate aspects?”

He’s somewhat taken aback, “What do you-”

“What about in bed?”

Ino’s jaw has never dropped faster—ironic, isn’t it?

And that reporter leans in with a smile that’s turned wicked - one that said he’s going to get paid a lot of money for this particular clip. “Tell us, Mr. Flash, do you last nothing but a flash in bed?” Those beady eyes then turn to you—not too far away and interviewing another one of his team - ever since the two of you started dating, you’d been careful to not let anything slip about it, going so far as to avoid interviewing him as you once did as a hero reporter.

Though you suppose that some whispers did let slip.

For the man was staring at you, though he asked the question from Ino. “Or perhaps there’s a certain…someone that might know the answer to this question?”

That clip of him open-mouthed and gaping takes over social media within a few minutes - it garnered some strange frenzy of amusement and morbid curiosity. Some defended him fervently against the intrusive reporter, some argued that if one was a hero then they should expect strange questions, others condemned such questions all together- where were the boundaries?

Everyone else argued back.

But most…oh, you could’ve already guessed that most couldn’t help but speculate the real answers for both questions: the bed situation and the ‘certain someone’.

Ino, of course, was bemoaning his haste.

Or at least he would-

But right now he had you splayed-out underneath him and letting him fuck you maddened—the slender length of his cock pistoning in and out of you at a frenzied pace.

“Fuh-fuck-” That pretty, pinkened mouth of his droops open with a wet gasp—and Ino shudders as the ruddied tip of his cock swerves around your insides. Stars burst behind his teary eyelids as he’s sprinklin’ out yet another few droplets of him, trickling it deeeep into the back of your womb as he’s fucking your wet channel through it.

He’s shuddering his hips forwards and locking his knots of seed against the softness of your womb- “Fuck, you’re making me c-cum again, pretty…” And it’s about the fifth time in the past hour that he’s repeating this, “B-but I’m really not a flash in bed, right…?”

Such doe-like eyes stare at you, those long lashes of his glittered in tears. And you can’t help but say, “Mhmmmm—you’re really not, Taku.”

“But then why do you sound like you’re making fun of me?” Those trembling fingertips of his take purchase upon either side of your hips, and Ino’s mahogany brows furrows as he concentrates. “This round- this round, m’gonna prove it to you.”

“Taku, baby, you’re pussydrunk-”

“Even better.”

It’s been hours.

Fucking hours.

And Ino hasn’t stopped ruttin’ himself into the warm wetness of your pussy- he can’t stop himself. 

It’s been too long - at this point he wouldn’t even be able to give you a number - since you’d successfully steered him away from that reporter and accompanied him to his penthouse. Since you’d reassured him that he totally wasn’t too fast in bed and that you definitely did think the sex lasted long enough. 

But still.

He didn’t last a flash in bed.

He really, really didn’t—which is why a young dawn was filtering through the curtains- but Ino Takuma still had his cock lodged thoroughly inside you and was showing no signs of stopping any time soon. He’s reaching down to wrap both your legs around his toned waist, folding you in half n’ kissing your sweaty forehead with his.

But his point was getting harder and harder to prove with every round that he’s fuckin’ you through - bottoming out deeply at the back of your womb, and letting out the prettiest shivers as he feels you clench. “Fuh…oh, fuck.” Uttering mere minutes after he’s started this round, “I-I think m’gonna…”

“What’s that, baby?” You’re reaching up to loop your arms around his neck, tugging the beautiful boy towards you. 

“Nothing.”

Batting your lashes up at him, “Awwww, c’mon- you know you can tell me anything, Taku.”

“I-it’s really nothing.” He insists.

“Hmmm, alright then…” But you knew- oh, you already knew. The more rounds that Ino was plunging you through, the more n’ more pussydrunk that he was growing—the shorter he lasted. Which wasn’t entirely anything bad- you honestly found it cute how it’d only take a few sweet slides down your tight pussy’s channel for Ino to utterly fall apart.

But he’s soon feeling that prickly sensation of his high, and he only starts tunneling between your sopping pussylips even harder. Brows knitting. Fingers digging into your flesh. “M’not gonna cum, sweetness-” He hiccups, “I-I’m not gonna cum, promise-”

“Mhm, I trust you.” You’re coaxing him, “I know you’re gonna last, baby.”

There’s a breathless note in his voice. He looks up at you in surprise, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I know you can handle it- hah.”

Fervently nodding, “Yeah- yeah, and m’gonna make you cum—”

“Mhm—” Lewdly smiling up at him. He’s just so entranced by that sinful expression upon your face that he doesn’t notice the way you’ve planted your feet firmly on the damp mattress- suddenly rolling your hips up into his own. “So why don’t I…help you, my hero?”

“H-help—oh.” Stunned. Cutting himself off with a groan. 

Ino’s eyes squeeze firmly shut, and he’s shaking viscerally at the sudden plap! of your skin hitting against his own. It’s a different kind of burn when it’s you who’s taking control - and even though he’s on top of you, it feels like he’s the one that should be squirmin’ and gasping.

It feels like he should be the one who’s cumming first-

“No—” Ino’s gritting out through clenched canines - there’s a low trundle of something in his tone that sounds like desperation. Before you know it, he’s increasing the speed of his hips—plap! plap! Plap!

That rounded, red tip of his finds the spot of your nerves just perfectly- and Ino doesn’t waste a single second before he’s starting to bludgeon it with his thrusts. So many times that it starts to feel a bit raw.

Pinning you down using the weight of his lower half, Ino digs his right hand instantly between your two trembly thighs. Brushin’ apart your pussylips with a singular swipe of his thumb- your head explodes in so many bursts of pleasure as he starts twiddlin’ with your pretty, plump clit. “No, no, no- don’t think that I don’t know what you’re hck! doing, sweetness.”

Fluttering your lashes innocently, “And what’s that, Taku?”

“D-don’t think that I don’t know you’re trying to make me—” Pausing to let his crowned shaft push into your womb with a resounding squelch! “-cum first.”

“So what if I am, hm?” You counter, “I just really, really love the way it feels when you’re filling me up-”

“I know what you’re doing there, too—” He’s snarling down at you- just so gone on your pussy by now that he likely doesn’t even realize he’s drooling. Those dilated pupils of his bore straight into your own as he angles his hips to constantly bash your poor g-spot, circlin’ every sensitive orifice. “I know what you’re doing- fuck, I know what you’re doing…”

And you can only squeal as the sheer pressure of his cadence increases-

“And I know what I’m doing, too.”

Because if you thought that was fast- then you weren’t ready for just how rapidly Ino’s fingers could make you fall apart. They were just so loooong and pretty, flexible enough to twist your nub in constant circular motions, flexible enough to make you sob.

It doesn’t matter how badly you’re attempting to buck away - Ino keeps his fingers firmly into the wettened crevice between your legs. Twisting his wrist into aaaall sorts of degrees just to see which one made you scream the most- 

“Please—” You’re bawling out after only a few minutes of this, legs shaking. “P-please, that’s unfair-”

“How so?” One amused brow raises. Perspired.

“B-because you’re gonna make me cum-” And to anyone else that would’ve sounded like a petulant complaint, it would’ve even sounded like a sore loser that couldn’t take on the challenge—but Ino knew. And you knew, too. “-using your powers—”

And the superhero can only grin, “So?”

Thrust after thrust.

Roll after sloppy roll of his glued fingertips - they were running your body taut. Without much effort, Ino’s able to make his blushin’ divot massage against your pussy at a rate where his hips almost looked like a blur—not even half of the Flash’s top speed. 

And the fact that he was going easy on you made you huff in complaint.

Without thinking much of it, you’re back to ruttin’ up into him - definitely unable to meet his cadence, but you knew you didn’t have to. 

You already had him wrapped around your little finger.

It takes only a few needy slams of your treacly pussy against his cock - all the way down to his thickened bottom - for Ino to throw his head back and groan. “You’re gonna…fuck, you’re gonna kill me, girl.‘

“Huh? But I didn’t do anything?” In a mock-innocent tone, “I certainly don’t have any powers to use.”

“Did you forget p-pussy power?”

You smirk.

And as he’s increasing his pace, you only have to whimper out his name for Ino to falter- for him to shake his head and continue. And as you’re attempting to gain the upper hand, he only has to buzz your throbbing nub with his electric speed for you to lose your mind. 

Eventually—you think you’re about to cum.

And before you can accept the thought of losing, you’re grabbin’ Ino by his pretty throat and dragging him down to kiss his lips. “C-cum inside me, Taku.”

It’s a tie.

You’re crashing into your high, and Ino’s crashing into his. 

Both the steaming hot pleasure of your orgasm flooding your core- and the few droplets that his overworked cock manages out. Creamy white sap. Thinner than usual—he was fighting not to merely cum blanks. Whimpering. Bucking. Fucking you like a damn animal…You’ve both experienced so many throughout the night that your current waves of bliss rip through you hard and fast.

Though Ino himself wastes no time bumpin’ his crowned cock into every tiny ridge of your wet channel. Scrape-scrape-scraping down the spots where you were most sensitive, and dragging it out for as long as he can.

You’re gasping as it leaves you numb from your toes, pulling his sweat chest against yours. “F-fuck, that feels so good…”

“Yes—fuck, yes.” And as the shudders of your high pass, you feel Ino’s cock grow just a little more limp inside of you- well…for a mere few seconds, that is. 

“T-tie-breaker?” He whines.

.

.

.

The next time the two of you are spotted out together, it’s for an interview. Of course.

In which you’d ‘cornered’ global superhero Flash after yet another one of his successful missions - before any of the other reporters could manage to get their claws on him - with the question they’ve all been asking—“Do you really last as quick as a flash in bed?”

You’re hearing the shocked gasps around you from the other reporters and bystanders. None had dared ask this question so directly since that clip had gone viral - and in the peripheries of your vision you could see that interviewer from before gnawing his teeth at the fact that you’d stolen his limelight. Surely thinking you’d have about as much luck as him, however…

But of course, Ino already knew you were about to ask this. 

His grin stretches underneath his mask as he turns to you, cameras rolling. “I should be asking you that, pretty. Dinner at 7?”

“There you have it, folks.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Spider-Man.

“S-so I guess what I’m trying to say is…” The masked intruder starts, his voice stuttering adorably through his lines. Though adorable as he may be, that doesn’t make you forget the fact that he was a man…tall…well-built…and clearly a crazed fanatic of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who’d broken into your dorm—“Uh…I come in peace?”

You’re raising the frying pan in your hands even higher, “I know how to hide a body-”

“O—okay, woah-” He’s immediately taking a few steps back, which you suppose you wouldn’t expect from a dangerous intruder. But then again, maybe he was just new to the job?

If so, he should probably have his pay docked - he was utterly failing at being intimidating. For he’s flattening himself against the window from which he’d entered just a few minutes ago, hands raised in surrender and the whites of his masked eyes widening. Damn, that costume was pretty good…

“I come in peace. I swear I come in peace- I’d just been running from a bad guy, and your dorm just happened to be…the first one I saw? Either way, I promise I’m no danger and I’ll just be on my way now so-” He immediately hastens, “Put…the frying pan…down.”

“Make me.” Raising it even higher, he flinches.

“Okay- oh my god, okay—” It really didn’t take much to make the man surrender at all, immediately giving up on any peace-keeping. He scrambles around the room and you’re worrying that he’s looking for something to challenge your frying pan with- but it seems that he’d just been brainstorming how best to go about with…whatever this is. Because in no time, you’re practically seeing a light bulb go off beside his head, and the man raises his palms as though to brace you.

And you can’t deny it, you found yourself a bit interested. “Um, yes?”

“Get ready- look—” He utters through the web-patterned mask covering his face. “Don’t faint but…”

“But?”

“I’m…Spider-Man.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

You’re assessing the man from head-to-toe—or at least what you could make out of him from the most elaborate cosplay of Spider-Man you’ve ever seen. It could honestly have been impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that he was in your fucking dorm.

But you digress.

“Okay, so do you want the frying pan- or I’ve also got a rolling pin-”

“What? No—no, listen.” The man insists, “I really am Spider-Man- it’s true! You’ve gotta believe me-” Though your deadpan expression gave away just about how much you believed the words that were falling from his masked mouth. And so he’s groaning in frustration, “Look- look, if I just showed you a few tricks would that work? Would that finally prove to you that I’m Spider-Man?”

Unimpressed, you cross your arms. “Go on, then.”

And then the first thing he does is shoot a clingy web from one hand, it launches at an incredible speed and sticks to your ceiling. That’s going to be hell to get out…

“Hm…” You narrow your eyes at him, “Impressive. But I’ve seen better at Party City.”

“That’s not fucking Party Cit- anyways.” He runs a hand down his weary face—or at least what you expect his face to look like beneath that mask. And as soon as you blink, you’re finding this…intruder(?) climbing up your walls. Literally.

All hands on there, glued to it with an invisible adhesive. 

You gape, “That’s not…”

“And how about this? This is even better—” Before you can refute that previous trick, too, this man jerks his head up (or was it considered down? You weren’t quite sure given the way he’d crawled all the way to your ceiling by this point) and basks in the silence for a split-second.

You wondered whether he was actually sensing something or just pulling your leg-

“My spider senses say that your vibrator’s plugged in but it isn’t charging.”

You almost want to throw the frying pan at him. However, you’re managing to tamper down the urge long enough to walk silently to your room and back—fuck it, he’d been completely right. You still sort of want to throw the frying pan at him.

But as though he’d sensed that, too, Spider-Man raises his hands up to cover his head.

So you’re setting it down on your table with a defeated sigh, “Alright, I believe you…Spider-Man. What’re you doing here?”

“Like I said-” He finally lets go of the ceiling and stands in front of you normally now, “-bad guy had been chasing me. That one was just a little…above my paygrade so I had to stall until Iron Woman could get here- which was about five minutes ago. The fight’s still going on, however, and I should probably lay low for now.”

Awkwardly shuffling, “So then…”

“So then if I could just stay here until then, um…”

“Um, sure.”

“Sure.” He twiddles his thumbs, “So- is there anything you’ve wanted to know in particular about Spider-Man?”

You smirk.

.

.

.

“Always wanted to know how—hah, big it is.” Biting down on your lower lip, you’re managing to hold back a pitchy whine as his solid tip enters your hole.

Puckered and plump.

Just the cutest pink- he was the perfect girth and size. 

Big enough to make your entrance quiver just feeling him kiss up against you, slender n’ smooth enough that he’s already starting to eagerly ease inside of you. And as you’re lowering yourself down on him, the superhero grabs onto either side of your ravenous hips like a lifeline—letting out a few ragged swears as he jerks his hips up and thrusts-

“Y-you should know…” He’s wincing at the feeling of your cunt - so hot and wet. Wasn’t this just heaven? 

Turning around to look at him- he’s rather glad you’d chosen a reverse cowgirl position. Because at least then you wouldn’t have seen the way he wiped away fucking tears—sobbing at just the feeling of being inside your wet pussy. “Mhm, spidey?”

“You should know that this is my first time.”

“Oh.”

And with that being said, he’s thumpin’ out the most thorough hit at the very bottom of your pussy. He doesn’t have the experience of just eeeeasing in his incredible length- he’s chasing the back of your cunt like a man starved. 

Like a man in unbearable pain every second he isn’t feeling the hotness of your cervix, the globes of your ass, the sensation of your walls squeezing around him like an embrace. So hot and wet. So sweet. So addictive-

“Addictive?” You’re giggling back at him, “Pussy talking already, huh?”

“I-I don’t even know what that is…” He’s babbling out, voice thicker than before.

And you can’t help but glide your palms down the smoothness of his exposed thighs, feeling every curve and divot of the corded muscle beneath. His body was just to die for - toned but not overly muscular. More like a sleeper build.

And you’re having soooo much fun moving your hips ‘round in all sorts of ways that made his muscles bulge—

“Fuck- fuck.” He’s stupid after just a few strokes. Bucking. Moaning. Hands tugging on the edge of the mask that found itself firmly upon his face, he’s attempting to loosen it and gasping for air-

“You should take that off, too.” You’re turning around and huffing at the sole scrap of fabric that kept you from seeing - what you assumed to be - Spider-Man’s pretty face. The only thing you could see of him were those stray curls of…white? Perhaps they were a super platinum blond? They wrapped around the nape of his neck and slightly leaned towards his jawline, drenched in sweat and flushed right down to his tone pecs.

The way that he’s squirmin’ and letting out the most unfairly erotic grunts every time you’re swallowing him up only left you so much more impatient. So much more impatient. “I s-swear I won’t tell anyone about who you are…fuck, and isn’t it getting super hot in there?”

“It is…” He murmurs, more to himself than anything. “But, what if—”

Peering back at him as he trails off, “What?”

“What if I don’t look how you expect?” 

“It’s the personality that matters.” Nodding in conviction, and then a sly smile stretches across your face at the way that makes his cockhead throb-throb-throb harder inside you. You’re wasting no time before increasing the speed of your hips until your hamstrings scream—“And the cock…heh.”

“S-so filthy.” The hero mutters, “But what if I’m…not your type?”

“Ugh—” Almost rolling your eyes- it was cute just how shy he was, really. But the first thing you’d wanted to do upon finding out that he was the real Spider-Man was to fuck him - so how much of a hint could you really give? “Baby, my type is loser heroes, and I think you fit the bill.”

“Thank y- hey.” 

Just a few more sloppy thrusts - just a few more - and the man beneath you finds himself completely n’ utterly gone from the force of your hips. The sweetness of your cunt. 

The way you’d tighten your legs around him any time he swabbed near your sweetest spots. And he was chasing that particular bundle of nerves with such fervour- he was gasping as he feels himself veering even soooo much closer to the throbbing of your deepest walls- he was reddening the skin ‘round his pelvis through sheer impact. 

And just as he thinks that he couldn’t get even more drunk on the texture of your pussy…

 You’re whimpering out a sweet lil’ echo of his hero name—

And the superhero beneath you lets his head loll behind into the pillows with a groooooan- mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt surrounding him. Clenching. 

Clamping down, you’re holding him hostage better than any villain ever could.

His heavy balls were nearly full enough to burst- and he’s thinking that he’s gonna cum just as soon as he rams his blushin’ tip almost straight into the target of—

And then his spider senses tell him that your fingers are thinking of reaching for his mask.

But before you can even let the thought come into proper fruition in your mind, he’s taking nothing but a single split second to web your pretty wrists together and flip the two of you over. Just because he’s pussydrunk doesn’t mean he isn’t one of the world’s best superheroes, hm? 

Now fucking you with your face smushed into the pillows, your knees bracing on the mattress. His cock pounding out a single thrust between those sweet, sap-covered pussylips of yours- the hero hits your g-spot instantly.

And that’s all it takes for you to topple right into your high.

Pleasure rushing through your body in waves. Fingertips clenching at the sheer force of it. You’re seeing stars behind your eyes at the sensation- “Sh-shiiiiit—” Perhaps one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life- and not only was it wound up by a virgin, but the virgin was none other than Spider-Man?!

Jaw dropping open—though it was in slight shock, he’s taking the opportunity to lean and spit.

Making you moan as the gluey wad skids down your tastebuds, “Ohhh, you’re a secret freak, huh?” And though you’d meant it as a half-joke, the hero is leaning his chiselled body dooooown to whisper into the side of your ear. 

“Maybe.”

Then there’s the rustling of fabric.

Of masks being removed, perhaps? It takes your mind a few more moments of him slammin’ his rugged cock inside you to realize…

And then the white-hot feeling of your orgasm coursing through your veins is suddenly overtaken by the realization that Spider-Man - maskless and exposed - was right behind you. Looming. Looking for your reaction, you suppose…you feel a jolt go through your body as you realize that he was waiting for you to turn—bearing all of this for you.

And you wondered what he would look like.

Pretty, sure.

Slightly nerdy—perhaps, he never struck you as the jock type.

Someone sweet. Someone kind. 

Maybe that was just your wishful thinking.

You turn around and there he is - Gojo Satoru. You fucking knew him—he went to your university. The white-haired ace of the Physics Department; always roaming around campus with his textbooks or camera, always with his head buried and rarely meeting anyone’s eyes, always in the library to the extent that he might as well have been part of the furniture. 

Always with his camera lens pointed at you, though he doesn’t think you saw him enough to notice.

But of course, you saw him.

Of course, you saw him.

He’s the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year.

Gojo doesn’t meet your eyes now, either. He’s without his thick-rimmed glasses and has to squint just a little bit, looking self-consciously down at himself and fuck- you have to resist the urge to beg for missionary then and there just so that you can stare into his deep, azure eyes as he fucks you.

Instead, you just say- “Did you know that nerds are also my type?”

He beams brighter than the sun.

.

.

.

The next time you’re beside Gojo Satoru, it’s hand-in-hand and entering your next lecture. 

You could feel the stares, the gasps, the whispers.

The nerd of the physics department, and one of the most popular girls on campus- or at least, that’s what Gojo claimed. Professor Yaga himself lets his bushy brows raise just the slightest inch once he spots the two of you—and it makes your nerdy boyfriend blush right now to his ivory roots.

“Sweetheart—” He’s whispering to you, “How about we swing around the city today? Promise I’d never let you drop.”

You smile, “I’d love to, Toru.”

Oh, you can imagine that the Daily Bugle is going to go into haywire. 

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Daredevil.

“Do you trust me, angel?”

You can’t keep the smile off of your face, “Who would I trust if not the best lawyer in Tokyo? Maybe even the world?”

“Why only maybe?” Higuruma smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges—just barely visible past the frames of his sunglasses. Your boyfriend was just so handsome when he was in his work clothes: one amongst the many crisp suits he often wore to court, hair slicked back n’ not a single strand out of place, his cane by his side. But he continues, “You know how I’m a…lawyer of sorts?”

“Oh really? I had no idea.” You jest.

“How about we try something tonight, my angel…” And as you’re peering down at him in curiosity, Higuruma starts to loosen his tie just the slightest bit—and you’re suddenly understanding what he means. “How about a simulation of this aspect, though in a far lighter tone?”

Your jaw drops, “R-roleplay?”

.

.

.

“Denied.”

“Hiromi, baby—”

“The court finds you guilty on all counts of seduction.” Higuruma’s deep baritone rasps down at you, punctured only by the slamming of his gavel on his desk. Bang! Bang! Bang! Those pressurized vibrations send shockwaves down your own body, and the lawyer’s grin stretches as he watches you affected by such a thing.

How cute…he couldn’t stop but let your orgasm edge for the nth time tonight.

Edging you.

It’s later into the night, you’re spread out across Higuruma’s neat work desk- your back against the frigid texture of the mahogany, your front arching into his own. He presses his suit-clad front against your naked tits—the harsh texture of his heroic suit - as per your request - rubbin’ against your nipples n’ sending you into an absolute frenzy. 

He was such a tease.

Grinning as though he knew exactly what he was doing- even though the tone of his voice speaks of nothing but faux innocent. The lawyer speaks, “You’re moving around so much- something wrong, sugar?”

“A-absolutely nothing.” You’re managing to echo out.

“Good.” Higuruma utters, pure devilish desire in his tone. And he doesn’t need to say his next words for you to already know where this was heading- after all, one of his hands reaches for where his gavel was upon the table - using his radar sense - and the other presses down on your hips.

Right above where his thickened length was pressed between your pussylips—Higuruma feels his hand down upon your stomach as he sinks himself inside. The throbbing, cylindrical intrusion of his cock glissading inside- “Because we’re having a retrail.”

And then the gavel comes down right on top of the wooden desk.

It creaks and nearly splinters—but all you can think of is the way that Higuruma was fuckin’ his rotund tip into you as though there was no tomorrow. He wasn’t wasting a single second.

Court time was precious, y’know?

So you best believe that Higuruma had your hips pinned down with his own powerful ones, the scritch-scratching of his tufted happy trail rendering you stupid. Fucking you in hard, purposeful thrusts - each one aimed precisely for where you were most sensitive.

His swabbin’ thrusts didn’t just hit deeeeep into the back of your pussy, but your boyfriend was ending up pressing against your sweetest orifices, your soft roof, the door to your womb—dragging his thumb down the knob of your clit.

With those honed senses of his, you’re lasting barely two pumps of his accurate cock before he’s locating your g-spot—fuck.

And giving it the most merciless strike ever.

He knew where it was from the slurping sounds of your cunt - the way they’d grow just a little damper as he headed for that one spot, he knew where it was from the counts of your breathing - how you’d let them grow a bit more ragged as he veered his cocktip even closer, he knew where it was from the smell of your cloying slick—growing even wetter n’ more drenched in honey as you’d find yourself spearheaded by him. 

Rough.

“State your name.”

And so the trail commences.

You’re doing so as he says- a monumental task given the way that Higuruma’s greedy hips don’t stop taking you for a single second. In fact, he’s kissin’ your g-spot at a constant pace and seeming to only ask you questions when he knows you’ll be affected by the sudden bursts of pleasure. 

“State your age.”

Your mouth opens. But instead of your age, comes out a jumbled mess of pleads and his name—because just then, Higuruma had reached his dominant hand down and pinched your pretty, puffy clit. So needy that you’re trickling out wads of slick from between your pussylips.

Your hole’s clenching so thoroughly around him that he almost has to falter, too. “Now, now…” Tutting - and you knew that that was never a good sign when it comes to lawyers, but especially Higuruma. “Is that a refusal to testify? I’m afraid this won’t help your case, my angel.”

“I-it’s not…” Hot tears run down your cheeks - and in response, he’s only squeezing your poor clit even harder. “Promise I’ll tell you.”

And it’s only after you’re finishing your response - syllable after syllable - that Higuruma finally lets go of your sensitive nub. That too with such a level of reluctance—if you hadn’t known any better, then you’d have said that that was a sullen pout slashed across his lips as Higuruma lets go of that sultry appendage.

His fingers instead slide uuuuuup and down your wettened crevice- the perfect feeling of where his throbbing cock kept on pumping in n’ out. Higuruma’s lips slightly part as he touches upon the sheer difference in girth, in the way that your cunt was struggling to keep all of him bulging inside of you and yet you were still yearning for more. “Hmmm, state your crimes now.”

“I-”

“Not you.” Higuruma interrupts, “I’m calling up another witness.”

And yet, there was no other witness - at least not that you could see. And surely you weren’t that dumbified yet that you couldn’t conjure up the vision of someone else here when—there was clearly no one else here.

None but you, your boyfriend, and…your pussy.

Higuruma Hiromi - the best lawyer in Tokyo - had his head leaned lovingly down and his brows furrowed as he listened to the precious sounds of your pussy. As if he was deeeeep in the middle of the conversation, understanding every single slurp, squelch, and the most sultry gulps as yet another inch of him is being swallowed.

All of it reaches his ears like music. And he hums as he feels the sound of it send shivers through his very being- “Ahhh, I see…” Straightening up, he leers down at you. “My witness states that your crime is seduction.”

“G-guilty…or wait- no.”

“Guilty?” Higuruma questions in faint amusement, “Do you admit to the charged and- hah, forfeit your right to an orgasm?”

“No—” Whining out needily, “No, please- I need to cu-”

“Objection, hearsay.” He cuts through you coolly - through his cock was rutting into you in a way that was anything but. “You do not need an orgasm, angel. But does the defendant believe that she deserves one?”

“Y-yes.” You shamefully admit.

“Does the defendant believe that she is guilty of the crimes of seduction?”

“Yes-”

“Does the defendant believe that she is worthy of a second chance, however?”

Arching your back into his. “Of course.”

“Hm…we might have to settle this with a jury.“ Those dark brows of his furrow, between them a perspired bead of sweat tracks down his forehead. And it doesn’t take long for your smart boyfriend to know just whom to ask—before you know it, he’s veering his head down and using his super-heightened senses to listen to every single sound of your pussy.

To listen to your arousal.

To smell it- just so sweet.

To let his brain come to a conclusion—“The jury has come to a unanimous decision.”

Your heart jumps to your throat.

“All counts- not guilty.” And then with a few more fervent rolls on top of your throbbing clit, Higuruma drags you all the way to the precipice of your high and—and this time - just this time - he actually lets you topple over the edge. 

Straight over it.

White-hot flashes. Warmth filling you up like a flood.

It starts from the tips of your toes and then shoots all the way up to your poor, sparking brain. The superhero grins as tears track down your cheeks at the final release that you’re been waiting so long for, and he grins as you’re shaking through wave after wave of your high. “Good-” You’re gurgling out cutely, “S-so good-”

Head dropping back against the pillows.

The rounded edge of his cock shovels in as he’s bursting your high through you wildly—

“What can I say?” He hums, “I’m a really good lawyer.”

A/N. Confession time: Higu and Kuna’s ones were the hardest to do because I’ve never watched Hulk or Daredevil WHOOPS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[digitaltrippers]

Xolo Maridueña as Ace has me sat.... latino asl trio i am manifesting u so hard !!! MEXICAN ACE TRUTHERS RISE !!!!!

[reinerismwrld]

A Secret Language

PAIRING: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader x Sanji (OPLA Versions in mind)

SUMMARY: They really thought no one could understand them; it was like a secret language they had, until you reacted to one thing they said, and the secret was out of the bag.

GENRE: Suggestive.

WARNINGS: Spanish sections (will translate them in the same paragraph: marked with a *).

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

Sanji and Luffy were ecstatic the moment they both knew they could speak in Spanish, and no one else would understand a thing they were saying. Sometimes the conversation would have a few expressions thrown randomly in Spanish, nothing out of the ordinary, really. Even the crew started to understand them after a while.

Sometimes Sanji would scold Luffy in Spanish, and of course, Luffy would answer him. This is where things could get tricky, because even if they speak the same language, some expressions would change. And when that happened, you would try to hide your amusement, because it was hilarious the way Luffy would start to become more and more stubborn the moment Sanji tried his best to keep his composure. Luffy knew how to push Sanji’s buttons.

When this happened, the crew learned that this was going to be a normal thing, mostly because of course Luffy would get on Sanji’s nerves the most. And this mostly happened because Luffy would try to sneak into the kitchen and eat whatever was available, and Sanji would find him. 

Like this one time, you and Nami were sunbathing, and out of nowhere, you could hear commotion in the kitchen.

“LUFFY! Te dije que todavía no estaba listo. ¿Tienes los oídos en el trasero o qué?” Sanji shouted at him. (*Luffy! I told you it wasn’t ready yet. Are your ears on your butt or what?)

“NO SÉ, NO TE OIGO.” You could tell Luffy had something in his mouth (probably the food Sanji was referring to) since he could barely answer him. (*I don’t know, I can’t hear you)

“Juro, Luffy, que un día de estos te voy a dar un sartenazo, me da igual si eres mi capitán.” (*Luffy, I swear one day I’ll hit you with a pan, I don’t care if you are my captain)

“Hazlo, de cualquier manera no me va a doler.” Luffy teased and started to laugh, and then a loud BANG! It didn’t sound like Sanji actually hit him; it was more like a wood-type sound. (*Go ahead, it won’t hurt me anyway)

“No, espera, Sanji, lo siento, ya perdón.” You and Nami were looking at each other now. Heavy footsteps could be heard all over the Merry. Out of nowhere, Luffy came running for his life with his arms full of random food, Sanji following soon after, but stopping near you and Nami. (*No wait! Sanji. I’m sorry, really)

“I swear he’s gonna give me an aneurysm one day.” You and Nami gave him an empathetic look, and you also tried your best not to laugh at the situation.

And even if this was entertaining as hell, sometimes you wish you didn’t know what they were saying, because then you wouldn’t know how to react.

The thing is, Sanji and Luffy started to get comfortable with what they would say, really comfortable to the point that they would forget that sometimes the topic of their conversation could be near them.

“Te juro que está enamoradísima de mí,” Sanji said, and you stopped on your tracks. You didn’t want to interrupt them, even though you were really, really thirsty, and the one thing that could help was in the same room where you knew Sanji and Luffy were. (*She’s so in love with me)

“Ya quisieras, obviamente yo soy quien le gusta.” Who were they talking about? The only girls you could think of were Nami, Vivi, or you… (*You wish. I’m the one she obviously likes)

“Luffy, eres mi capitán y te tengo respeto, pero obviamente no sabes nada de chicas ni de la manera en que ella siempre me está viendo.” They stay silent for a moment, realization looming over the two of them. (*Luffy, you’re my captain, and I respect you, but you know nothing about girls and the way she’s always looking at me)

“Te gusta.” They both said at the same time. (*You like her)

Curiosity was taking the best in you since you, by mistake, hit the door with your head while you were trying to listen better. You slowly opened the door, as if you didn’t hear the conversation.

“I just… I want some water.” You mumbled and acted as naturally as possible. Sanji smiled at you, and Luffy couldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel his gaze burning into you. 

“Of course, let me serve you.” Sanji quickly cleaned his hands.

“No wait, Sanji, I can do it.”

“Let me.” You only nodded.

“Deja de verla así, la vas a asustar,” Sanji said, obviously talking to Luffy. (*Stop looking at her like that, you’re scaring her)

“Claro que no, te estoy diciendo, le gusto. Es más, estoy seguro de que también le gusta cómo la miro.” Sanji chuckled and only shook his head. You, on the other hand, were trying your best not to look like you were about to implode. It was you. They were talking about you. (*I’m not. I’m telling you, she likes me. I’m pretty sure she also likes the way I’m looking at her)

“La estás mirando como si fuera comida.” Sanji turned around and gave you the cup of water. You only nodded at him and muttered a small “Thanks.” He rested his face in the palm of his hand, looking at you with adoration.

“Bueno, si nos ponemos en ese plan… ¿Crees que sepa dulce?” You choked at his words, and, unfortunately, the water made it worse. (*Well, now that we’re talking about that… Do you think she tastes sweet?)

“Are you ok?” Sanji quickly grabbed a napkin and handed it to you. 

“Yeah, just…” You tried to answer, but you were coughing, too shocked to even form a proper answer. “I…” you took a deep breath, “I have to-“ you gestured the door, quickly turning around, and started sprinting to the door, trying to leave the most embarrassing situation you’ve experienced, but Luffy wasn’t dumb when it came to you, and as if he had super speed, he was now infront of the door, preventing you to open the door.

“You understand what we’re saying.” Not a question, but an affirmation.

“I…” You started to step back from him, and that’s when you crashed against a chest, a really strong chest. His hands started to slowly roam over your arms, not really touching you, but leaving a trail of goosebumps all over your upper body.

“Is that true?” Sanji whispered in your ear. You only closed your eyes and nodded.

“Ay princesa,” Sanji hugged you from your waist, and rested his head on the blade of your shoulder, “Lamento que te hayas enterado así. Pero realmente nos gustas y, por lo que estoy viendo, también te gustamos, ¿cierto?” He started to leave wet kisses on your neck. Luffy smiled. (*Oh princess. I’m sorry you found out this way. But we really like you, and from what I’m able to tell, you like us too, right?)

Luffy started to walk in your direction, a smug smile was adorning his face, and you couldn’t help but whimper. Not really sure if it was because of Sanji, or because Luffy was looking at you as if you were his last meal.

“Guess now I have to know what you taste like, right?"

A/N: This is heavily inspired by that interview where Iñaki and Taz were arguing in Spanish and everyone was like "???"

n a v i g a t i o n

o n e  p i e c e  m a s t e r l i s t

[chuugiwara]

SUPERFAN, SUPERFREAK !!

──★ synopsis !!: who says a girl can’t have it all? you land on the cover of the news letter debuting your overnight fame as a certified fashion icon to the pirate world. brains, beauty, power, and..hundreds of followers in your top-secret Trafalgar Law fanclub. what could go wrong when you run into the man of your admiration? Law, however? totally frozen from seeing his “celebrity” crush in the flesh.

──★ or, in which !!: you become a faux celebrity overnight, while being the leader of a fan club for the Heart Pirates Captain, while law has collected every newsletter you’ve been featured in. so, what happens when two die hard fans are in the same crew?

──★ pairings !!: trafalgar law x fem! reader

──★ tags !!: heavy mutual pining, slight crack-fic, fanboy x fangirl trope, icon reader, humor, law being a fanboy for reader, reader being fangirl for law, two idiots having no idea how to talk to their crush, lotsss of fluff, lowkey loser law, useage of "y/n", readers power is not specified, suggestive content !!

──★ word count !!: 5.3k words !!

──★ extras !!: reader is lowkey iconic-party-girl-coded, does not follow main anime/manga plot whatsoever, slightly inspired by @/lostcherrii 's work "iconic much?", law might be ooc but desperately wanting to put out more fluffy fics with him considering how many heavy ones there already are!! ♡⸝⸝ previous ／ next ˎˊ˗

©chuugiwara, do not copy, plagiarize or translate my work. thank you

every time you strip a girl of her fashion and confidence, an angel loses its wings, by the way.

you held the beige overalls with distain, the rather cute jolly roger that was nowhere near as stylish as your own, being the only part you actually liked. Law stood in front of you, his arms crossed as if giving you a peek to the muscles in his arms. you wanted to scream, shake your head like a mad woman and swear on your life that you would totally include this is in your next collum. there was no way you couldn't. 

Ikakku patted your back, her face solemn as if she could feel and hear every thought about the sudden mandatory outfit your new captain was ordering you to change into. you opened your mouth to argue, before Law shook his head with narrowed eyes that stripped you of any ounce of retaliation you could even muster under his gaze. "mandatory." he let out, his words slow and deliberate as if it would somehow soften the blow. you furrowed your brows to him, disgust very clear in your face as the rest of your new crewmates watched the interaction with baited breaths. some stood and waited for the deliciously entertaining argument that would come from this, and others merely stood as emotional support while the small percentage just wanted to see you in their own uniform. they wanted to know if it was true you could pull off anything like the newsletters said. pressing your lips into a pout, you looked at the captain like you were telepathically begging him not to do this to you. Law felt his heart thump, pounding against its confines to the sight as neither of you found it in yourselves to break that eye contact. the newsletters never had a sight like this included in it, and Law desperately wished he could photograph it himself to add to his collection built for the star girl in front of him.

with a voice that lulled his heart to its softest parts, he almost didn't hear the words coming from such a girl. "i don't see you wearing this." almost.

you gestured to the suite in your hands with irritation, and Ikkaku quickly nodded her head beside you like some kind of hype girl. techinally she was, but you were hers as well- so who cared? 

Law bit his tongue, jaw clenched as he leaned just the slightest bit closer to you. you could see him closer than ever, mentally counting each eyelash on his face and the cocky grin on his lips that looked so good right now. he had the faintest dimple on the left side of his cheek, and even when he was crouching down to meet your eyes, Law still towered over you. oh great heavens- "it. is. mandatory." he emphasized each word like an arrow straight through your resolve, trying it's damn hardest to break apart your walls you had built all by yourself.

hell no, that was not happening.

in your mind, justice was missing for every person needing to wear this awful thing on the daily. slowly, you gave your own grin to the man, tilting your head and successfully challenging his word on this. the fashion police was needed, desperately, and you would be more than happy to take up the position.  "ill put this monstrosity on," you started, and there was a low gasp from the crowd of your crewmates around you three. Law bit back his flinch to the mean name, heart falling slightly to the way you described his crew's uniforms. he could easily send you back to your own ship, but what was the point? not only would he lose the chance to keep a star like you on his crew, but also his chance to get closer to the girl he saved each newsletter she was on like the world's greatest treasure. "when you wear it too." your tone was soft, yet anyone listening could tell you were standing your ground. there was no way you would back down now, and you sure as hell didn't plan to.

the silence that sat after your words was thick, heavy as both captains bashed heads on a topic as feeble as a crews uniform. Ikkaku, however? that girl was more than grateful someone had said something, because for a women to wear such a thing? criminal. 

Law never looked away, and you didn’t either.

the only difference between the two of you, was the red spreading to the tips of his ears the longer you two played a dangerous game of who's going to blink first. you gave a grin of victory as Law had finally turned away from you, hiding himself away as he waved you off. "fine, wear whatever the hell you want." Ikkaku cheered, the both of you celebrating in a lighthearted high five as the rest of the crew drooped from the final say.  it was that easy, apparently.  you left the jumpsuit on the ship's railings, grateful to not getting your wings of fashion clipped due to the decision of joining the Heart Pirates you had written so much about. your eyes swept back to the uniform, watching the jolly rogers smile stare at you almost in sadness. how that was possible, you didn't know. regardless, you let out a huff, taking the piece of clothing before following the rest of the pirates back inside. "ill still wear the jolly roger," you promised back, catching Law's attention from his, what you could only assume, was a primitive brooding moment.

Law slowly turned his head to look back at you, surprise gleaming in his eyes as you smile cheekily. "besides, it's cute as hell." before strutting your way back into his ship like it had always been your home.  Law let out a breath, deep and shaken like he didn't know what to do with himself. a part of him didn't, how the hell was he supposed to function at full capacity when his celebrity crush was now a part of his crew. there was no telling what kind of mischief would come from this and having a crewmate who was as hardheaded and popular as you only meant Law was playing a losing game here. still, the way you complimented his jolly roger? his, jolly roger?  Law didn't particularly mind losing this game, per say. 

the Heart Pirates were certainly a crew you had no idea would be so wild, the small detail taking you by surprise. the first night as a fully-fledged member you had snuck away back into your shared room with Ikkaku, quickly scribbling your discoveries before she had returned from her shower. the more you spent time with them, the more you learned, and the more you knew; the more details were suddenly appearing within the newsletter collum dedicated to the Trafalgar Law fans. of course, you valued loyalty where it was due, so nothing too personal was written in said pages. their need to tease their own captain, or the personalized attributes some members had however? yeah, that was definitely the most read parts about the submissions you entered. there were rules however, you only write once everyone was asleep, never making a sound as you floated to and from to edit and rewrite certain words. you made sure to never include personal things that could give you away- or worse, put your crew in jeopardy either. you were always extra careful with your words, the fear of being caught up by your secret hobbies always weighing a heavy guilt in the back of your mind each time you felt the urge to write about your own crew. there was something slightly shameful about it but so exhilarating it was hard to stop. you didn't want to stop. the Heart Pirates held a reputation due to their captain's persona, but beneath that layer, they were as kindhearted as it gets. not to mention, how good it felt to show the world the crew you were now a part of was one of the best. 

the worst part about your secret? the downside of it? was the need to hide your surprise to find them huddled together during breakfast as the news coos came, each one reading your collum like it was some kind of drama page on paper. you had almost given yourself away the first time, your face betraying your orders and Penguin and Shachi laughed towards your own descriptive writing about them in particular. 

"it's like they know us personally," they had wheezed out, fist beating against the table as if they hadn't said something that made your heart practically fail in your chest. it was scary at first, but the more the days passed that you spent with them, the easier it got.  for Trafalgar Law? he couldn't say the same. it was like he was walking on eggshells, with a new pair of angel eyes watching his every move, it was getting hard to sneak away the newsletters with your face printed on it. to his dismay, since joining the crew, they hadn't published anything about you. his growing collection had stood stagnant, waiting for their newest addition that had yet to arrive. 

there were rules amongst the Heart Pirates, some spoken of out loud without shame, while others were simply none spoken rules that were only learnt from paying attention. rule number one, don't let Penguin or Shachi alone to handle breakfast, especially if they were together. ruler number two, Law held a perfect system for chores, each day being placed onto a few people at a time. since you were new, you were spared from the hard work. not that it was particularly hard, actually. having no crew meant you did everything yourself, and as much as other would have dreaded it, you had the power to handle it all alone. rule number three, Trafalgar Law valued his space with a fever. his room was his alone and entering it without a care was practically a death sentence. it was safe to say that his room was strictly off limits, no matter how much the fangirl in you wanted to see the room Law slept in. was that creepy? probably..

still, Law still needed to fit you in his schedule, but once that time came, you were excited to be able to showoff how much help you actually were. true to yourself, you were not just a pretty face for show. though, Ikkaku had confessed to the crew mutually appointing you and Law as their visuals for the Heart Pirates. meaning you and the captain, were essentially the face for the crew, icons for a pirate crew you had just joined. honestly, you were totally honored. 

not just because someone as pretty as Ikkaku thought you were the one for the job, but because you were paired with the man you idolized. it felt like you were living a dream that had felt so far away when you first started that collum. 

above that, your debut as a Heart Pirate was coming up soon, and you knew it. which is precisely where you stood now. a month into the crew, and practice made perfect. you took your job as a pirate celebrity seriously, after all; and there was no way you would let them look bad in the eye of the camera. "Bepo," you turned your head, watching the mink give you a bashful smile in return. "you're moving to the right, honey. your supposed to go left." you eased out, watching him wither from embarrassment as Penguin snickered next to him. "im just getting in the way." he whispered, paws wringing themselves as you moved from the front and making your way towards him. "oh, absolutely not. what kind of camera wouldn't love a face like," you paused, cradling his face between your hands as you showed it off to the crew. Law watched, partially enthralled in your way of taking the lead with his crew, and partially fanboying in the depths of his mind to see you working so hard to make his crew look as good as possible for your debut as a Heart Pirate. Bepo smiled, wide enough to make his larger teeth shine in the sun with a blush against his muzzle to your praise. "this!" you cheered, letting him go and watching him practically float midair before you.  

shyly, Jean Bart raised his hand, brows as narrowed as always as he stood with his back as straight as possible. you rose a brow, nodding your head as if letting him speak. "why exactly are we doing this?" he spoke out, no hint of malice in the question despite his rough voice making it sound like there was. you hummed, floating your way back in front of them, Law lingering behind you with his arms crossed. he hadn't said a word to you since proposing the idea, merely following your way out to the Polar Tangs deck. still, you could feel his gaze on every inch of you, and you swore your heart would not survive this if it went on any longer. 

"my job here is not just for show," you started, boots clicking against the wood as you held both hands behind your back. like a drill sergeant for the world's deadliest photoshoot, you were not going easy on this. "since i was practically kidnapped and forced to join this cre-"  "you wanted to." Law coughed, turning his head to look away from your sharp gaze as if he hadn't said anything at all. 

"as i was saying," you rolled your eyes with a smile, turning back to your fellow crewmates. the word was slightly foreign to you, but it settled in your chest with an ease only they brought. despite the path you took to have no crew, it was nice now that you did. seeing their faces, definitely lit up a fire in you to give them the best you could. 

"im here to give you the best i can, they haven't published anything on me since i joined. because of that, the second they see me," your hand pressed against your chest, a wide grin on your face that said more about the pride you held to be a part of Law's crew that you could etched onto your pretty face. "with a crew im now a part of, they'll go crazy." you held a finger out, winking their way as Ikkaku squealed with delight.  

"this is the perfect time to spread my fame onto the-" you paused, nodding to yourself as you took in a slow breath. "onto the crew i rep now." Penguin gave a soft coo, wiping fake tears to the sentiment as you giggled into your hand. "i for one, will not let us get caught looking a mess. so, practice makes perfect!" your eyes fell onto Jean Bart, watching him nod with parted lips as if he was grasping all you had said. he nodded a final time, letting you know he understood the reasoning for the endless practice they had swiftly made routine of right after breakfast. your boots clicked softly towards Law, and he felt himself freeze slightly, before straightening himself up as if waiting to also be inspected by your detail driven eye. your hand found his, easily pulling him by the arm to stand next to you. "of course, what's a crew without a captain?" as if starting up a party like you had the first night Law met you, the Heart Pirates cheered with vigor, making you giggle beside him. he gave a soft sigh, shaking his head and making his way to walk back to where he was before. "ill pass, popstar," the nickname sent a chill through you, swallowing hard as he crossed his arms again. "just here to observe." you on the outside, perfectly fine. beautiful, without a trace of what was in your mind. subconscious you? foaming at the mouth, rolling on the floor with a cry that your captain was so attractive it was seriously starting to hurt. Law? oh he was as cool and nonchalant as it could get.  inside his precise mind? losing it. completely. 

huffing, you held a finger to his direction. "you aren't getting out of this so easily, Captain." Law wanted to die from happiness already. whatever god was up there? yeah, they fucking loved him. he was your captain; Law could practically win the lottery with his luck.

practice had lasted a few hours, until every member had memorized their part. the plan was to have you and Law at the center, making sure the Heart Pirate jolly roger was in view as you, him and the rest of the crew made your way out. even Law remembered the specifics you had drilled into their brains during practice. no matter what, even when tying the Polar Tang to the harbor, they had to make sure to look as good as possible. not too good, otherwise it would be obvious how much they had practiced. the idea was simple. look as good as possible, as effortless as possible. somehow, you were confident about this, no matter how many times Clione had stepped on Uni's foot during practice, or how much Bepo had accidentally went the wrong direction for the fifth time that session. regardless, Law felt a stroke of pride to know how much you trusted the crew, and something in him itched to talk to you. sure, as friendly as you had been with him during your first meeting; speaking to him alone was a totally different ball game. the very same could be said for Law. how in the world were two people who were the others biggest fan supposed to talk to each other and not give themselves away?

answer, super awkwardly. 

"y/n-ya" his voice sent a chill through you; sweat being wiped away effortlessly as you straightened up to your captain's voice. you hummed, and Law wanted to book it back into his room and soothe his nerves with the news letters of you. god, even he knew he sounded like a complete loser right now.

be cool, Law. be cool, Y/N.

you were losing it, and you prayed he couldn't pick apart your brain and see the miniature version of you fangirling to the absolute max right now. Law was definitely hoping you didn't see the thin layer of sweat from his nerves at being next to you so casually, and he sure as hell hoped you didn't hear his voice crack.

"you aren't wearing the jolly roger," he pointed out, and you blinked slowly, before letting out a drawn out, "ohhhhh yeah!!" you laughed, waving him off before reaching into your pockets like it was no big deal. from between your fingers, there stood a stylish choker made of silk, as if made by some big-name designer. he froze, blinking to the creation. had you..made that yourself? just to represent his crew? 

Law wanted to cry.

that, or combust. honestly, whichever came first at this point. at the center, there sat his jolly roger. sewn into the material as if it was made for it. you made quick work to tie it around the soft skin of your throat, watching a bow dangle from it, and travelling down to end at your collar bones. a flame of attraction lit up his skin at the sight, there was no way you just made his jolly roger look so good in so little time. 

"i wanted something to fit my style, but i still wanted to represent the crew im apart of now." you smiled out, fingertips caressing the jolly roger pressing against your throat like a collar that spoke of who you belonged to. he felt his breath hitch, the pit of his stomach tingle in an emotion he did not, for the sake of himself or you, want to name just yet. 

with a stiff nod, you heard his breathless words shoot through your heart and practically fuck the shit out of your ego as he walked back into the Polar Tang. "looks good on you, keep it on from now on." just as the door shut, you felt your hands shake. now alone on the ships deck, you let your squeal of delight be heard by the sea, floating without notice as you fangirled to your hearts content. 

Law heard the commotion, heart racing in his chest like it was about to burst any second. a race between his heart, and the throb in his pants, Law debated which one would win before rooming himself into the confinements of his space. alone, he let himself breath for the first time since the interaction, hands gripping the doorknob as if scared someone would barge in any second. 

this, was definitely not good. 

"we're breaching the surface!" Bepo yelled out, the order carrying across the Polar Tang as you clapped your hands in eagerness, eyes full of determination as you repeated his words. "everyone get ready, we've got one shot at this!" you spoke out, members rushing to get the ship ready to harbor on the next island on your path, while others worked quickly to smooth out their uniform. while they looked as nervous as ever, nerves over yourself were never in your vocabulary. except when, Law of course, was anywhere near you. his hands were like a ghost, hardly there yet warm enough to make your face burn as hot as your heart was. he fixed your choker, adjusting the ribbon to fall better against your neck as he pulled back. all he gave you was a final nod, never meeting your eyes as you gripped the railing of the latter to go onto the deck. you could feel your heart racing like crazy, hand against your throat as you let the atmosphere settle in itself. 

there was no way he did that for no reason, right? Law didn't just do- that, for nothing. chalking it up to you moving too quick for your own good, you had all gotten ready to let the cameras hit the second your face was recognized. Ikkaku was shaking like a leaf next to you, and your hand gave hers a comforting squeeze. a promise that there was no need to be nervous, and she look at you like a deer caught in headlights, her face bright red. softly, you whispered through giggled towards the girl you had gotten so close with. 

"you look great, Ikakku," as if your words alone could cure the world, her nerves settled in an instant. relief washed over her, as she shot you back a smile that could light up the room. "you do too!" she praised, compliments flying left and right amongst the crew as if a secret understanding that even if they were nervous, so was everyone else. in that, came the mutual feeling of being understood; that alone had been the key to giving back their sliver of confidence.  once the water settled, and the Polar Tang shifted steadily against the wave, the Heart Pirates had rushed into position. each one mumbling things of encouragement and reminders to not try too hard to look good. Bepo, bless his heart, had accidentally let out a hiccup from the nerves, paws smoothening his fur to self sooth. 

you nodded, watching everyone hit their marks on time. you caught Ikkaku's eyes, giving a firm nod and she carried the orders with precision only Law's crew could manage. like dominos, you watched like a proud mother as each one landed their part perfectly. slowly, you made your way out last, your shoes hitting the Polar Tang's deck just as whispers had erupted to the sight of you. perfect. just in time.

the only issue? Trafalgar Law was nowhere to be seen. you bit the inside of your cheek, hard, masking your panic to the hinder in your plans. there was no way the captain of your crew wouldn't show up, the entire plan was built around you two. what kind of image would it paint if he wasn't here. you clenched your jaw slightly, the panic spreading quick between the crew and Ikkaku gave a soft whine that practically yelled "this cannot be happening right now." without notice to the hoard of people gathering to the sight of you all, you shook your head. you would be damned if this all went to shit just because Law decided to stand back from the flash of cameras. the crew had worked too hard to get to this point, and you weren't going to let this go to waste. your name was yelled with vigor, a cue to let things fall into place as they came. your smile was wide, the Heart Pirates at your side as each of you had practically strutted your way out to the new island. before the first flash of the cameras, you practically jumped at the tattoo littered arm wrapping around your waist like it was meant to be there. "room!" you could smell him, the scent of antiseptic and, was that-cologne? mentally, you squealed to the way his arm held you close to him, his face stoic and unbothered by the flash of cameras. "y/n! over here!!" one woman yelled you over, your eyes scanning across the crowed just to meet the hundreds of lenses aimed right at you. grinning, your fingers grazed the choker made with your crew's jolly roger, practically flaunting the jewelry as Law lead you all onto the island. his head leaned down, breath fanning the shell of your ear as you smile to the camera, making sure each flash captured the clear message you painted to the world without words. The Heart Pirates was your crew now. and them? 

they held an icon aboard their team, the flashes relentless and stunning some of your crewmates as they reeled back to each practice you had went over with them. their pupils dilated each time, and yet their smiles were as perfect as they were in practice. "we needed a grand entrance." Law breathed into your ear, voice low enough to rumble through his chest. you bit back your blush with a soft nod, keeping your focus on the cameras as the crew had all gathered off the Polar Tang.  step one had been a success, more than that, you could already smell the headlines towards Law sudden fashionably late entrance. this was bound to be big, much more than you had originally anticipated. the flash of cameras brough back that adrenaline you loved, pictures being snapped faster than ever as the crew posed together like planned. ensuring not just the crew, but the precious Polar Tang got a shot on the paper. you knew this would definitely shatter the newsletters next time they were published. 

"perfect," you announced with a laugh, questions shooting through the crowd in order to get a word to add onto their photos. Law gave a huff of annoyance, watching as some people had pushed against the crowd to touch you, his arm pulling you flush against you. low, and full of an authority that would have any woman dropping their panties in a flash, you shivered to know this was your captain. "that's enough." you were sure he didn't calculate the lenses to point right at him now, the flashes practically blinding the man enough to debate just rooming them all out of there. this was too much. but, he could practically feel his desire gnawing at the cages of his mind to know he would soon have a newsletter with a picture of you and his jolly roger around your neck. better yet, that very same picture would have him holding you close, showing a huge middle finger to the world with the words "she's mine" written in bold. 

Law grinned to the thought, the sight captured just in time by the cameras as you all had secured the Polar Tang for one final time. now, for part three, was avoiding the cameras and getting the best possible surprise flash photography moment like you had planned. everyone moved in sync, as if doing this a million times over. you could have cried, everything was moving just as it should have, and you couldn't have been prouder to watch them all move in silence. 

flashes rang throughout the group, breaking the chaos apart enough for others to slip out the way. you grinned, because without even knowing it, you had planned every single fraction of this. they thought they were one step ahead of you, but when it came to the camera and how to get the best results; nobody could top your game. 

you nodded towards Law, your back straightening as he gave a firm squeeze to your waist with his arm before his other hand lifted with ease. in a flash, he was gone, and now: it was your turn.

slowly, you lifted from the ground, the ribbon around your neck shifting from the breeze as you lifted above the mass of people, making sure to shoot a killer smile towards the cameras just in time for a shot in the air. 

everything goes according to plan when the world's princess made her debut. 

just as anticipated, the news coos had found you aboard the Polar Tang's ship, drifting across the seas water as you took in the view. you were sure you had seen it a thousand times, but it had begun to feel different now that you actually had a crew to be a part of. the bird seemed to notice you, its feathers ruffling to the sight of you as you waved it down. "lets see how we did, shall we?" you smiled to the bird, watching it bashfully nod its head to your proposal. 

it had been a week since then, no doubt Big News Morgan having to work overtime with the sheer number of pictures that were taken that day. you would pay top dollar to see his face. the rest of the crew had gathered around you, each one eager to see what was said about your debut as a Heart Pirate. while others wanted to see if they had included bad photos of them. you couldn't blame them; there was nothing worse than getting a bad photo taken of you. Ikkaku bounced in her spot, shoving her way through to stand next to you. "please tell me i looked okay," she prayed, hands clasped before her as she looked at the sky.  gracefully, your fingers skimmed past the pages, seeing the number of bounties that had raised, pulling pride from your chest to see your friends further putting their names on there. a few pages flew by, until there it was. bingo. scanning over the letters, you took notice of the picture pulling better than the rest. in fact, this was more than you had even theorized. four separate pages were dedicated this time, from solo shots of you, to close ups of the choker you had made with the Heart Pirates jolly roger, threading to you and the rest of the crew and the Polar Tang. what made you and the rest perk up, however, was the page dedicated to shots of you and Law. his arm was draped across your waist, his head tilted down to meet your height as he whispered his excuse for being late in your ear. more than that, there were even photos of his grin on the pages, the words making you shake from laughter. there was no way, this was how your debut had come out. sure, you guys had looked good as hell, but the words dedicated to you and your captain made Law freeze in his spot, hand gripping the mug of coffee with a force that made the porcelain creak in despair. above the photo, in a font that made it impossible not to read the words, stood the reasonings for the Heart Pirates to burst into laughter, Penguin and Shachi losing their minds as they dropped to the floor with arms holding their stomachs. Law bore holes into the paper, stomach twisting in a mixture of damn right, and this can't be happening right now. you, on the other hand? knew that this, was the best day of your life.  "steamy tension between the infamous Surgeon of Death and the World's Princess sparks controversy. love 'em or hate 'em, that grin doesn't lie!" 

without a doubt, this was getting framed.

[kaiijo]

EXPRESS YOURSELF — TRAFALGAR LAW

⟢ summary: the heart pirates’ uniforms are meant to encourage productivity, efficiency, and a unified identity, but maybe he’ll change his mind after a couple of days with the straw hats (alternatively: law sees you out of uniform and doesn't know how to handle it) ⟢ content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff, general descriptions of clothing (tops, skirts, etc. but nothing super detailed), changing POVs (reader’s and law’s)  ⟢ word count: 3.76k  ⟢ author’s note: guys i love law but i would not survive wearing the boiler suits. also, this was supposed to be 1k words at most and it somehow gained over 2.7k words more so i hope it’s as much fun as i had writing it 

You would never tell Law this, but you kind of hate the uniforms the crew has to wear. While you understand their purposes, you can’t help but feel envious when you read about other crews and see they don’t have to be zipped in drab boiler suits and sensible shoes. 

You try to put your own flair where you can, like how Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku wear their hats and Bepo’s suit is a different color. You like to switch our different pieces of jewelry and headwear, but it makes you sad to peer into your closet and see all your beautiful clothes, pieces meant to be seen and flaunted and admired, not hanging limp in the armoire or folded in dark drawers. 

Still, you’ll never complain to Law about it, given that it’s so low on a list of priorities and you don’t think you’d get anywhere with it. Plus, you don’t want to open any chance of hurting his feelings in some way. 

The Polar Tang has stopped on a bright, temperate island to restock supplies and as you’re emerging from the submarine, you soon hear cries of, “Traffy!” and “It’s the Heart Pirates!” Luffy waves wildly from the Thousand Sunny, and Nami leans over the railing to call out your name. 

Luffy flings himself over to land in front of your captain, who looks like he’s already getting a headache, and Bepo asks if they’re here for resupplying too. “Yep! And for some fun too!” Luffy chirps, hands on his hips and grinning. “We should all hangout!”

A long, tired exhale escapes from Law’s mouth but he knows better than to turn down Luffy’s invitation as it will just invite more pestering. It’s how your crews wind up mingling and chatting like old friends as you make your way through town. You can’t help but look enviously at Nami and Robin, in their pretty dresses and cute shoes. You feel frumpy beside them in your white boiler suit and you try not to let it sour your mood. 

It isn’t very hot today but under the suit, you feel uncomfortably toasty. You tugs the zipper down to your sternum, relishing the cool air that filters in. Nami glances over and she asks, “Are you guys allowed to… not wear those out?”

“Not usually,” you reply. You make sure Law is well ahead of you as you continue in a lower voice, “I wish we were though. These are good when we’re under the water since it’s colder there but on islands like this, they get pretty stuffy.”

You pause and then sigh, “It’s a shame, because I have so many cute clothes sitting in my closet, wasted.”

Nami gasps theatrically, “That’s literally a crime!” Robin stays quiet but she nods along in agreement. Peering around, Nami says, “I don’t think they need all of us to resupply. Come one, let’s do some fun shopping.”

She points to her right, where there’s a long stretch of streets lined with clothing and accessory stores. “Come on!” 

You venture another quick peek at Law, who’s just turning his head. Your eyes meet and he raises an eyebrow, mouth opening to say something but Nami’s already dragging you and Robin in the direction of the shops. 

The time passes by fast as the three of you slip in and out of stores, more and more bags clutched in your hands. Nami really gives a new definition to the phrase, “Shop ‘til you drop,” but you can’t say you’re not having an absolute blast. 

It’s a whir of soft cottons, sturdy denims, and buttery silks until you’re all headed back for the port where your ships are docked. The sun has started to dip below the horizon, casting a burnished golden hue on everything it touches. You spot your crew on the Straw Hats’ ship and Shachi’s yelling to you that you’re having dinner with them for the time you’re all on the island together, courtesy of Sanji. 

You’re about to head into the Polar Tang to drop your bags off when Nami asks if they can come with you and see your room and the clothes you had hidden away. You agree and they climb into the submarine with you, following you down the halls and into your room. Nami looks around and says, “It’s so cozy in here!”

Robin nods. “It’s very you,” she says with a warm smile. They set down their own bags as you open up the armoire and let them sift around inside. 

Nami grabs a blouse and holds it out. “This is so pretty, I almost wish I could steal it from you.”

You laugh as you pull out another top, something sleeveless and chic, and Robin says, “You should wear it tonight.”

“I wish,” you sigh wistfully, about to hang it back up but Nami stops you.

“Why not?” she asks. “You’ll be on our ship, not here! And we don’t have any dress code, so why not?”

You hesitate, weighing your options. You don’t think Law will be mad — you’re actually not sure what his reaction will be — and you suppose for a night, you could forego to strict boiler suit and let your clothes see the light of day.

“Alright,” you concede as Robin fishes around in your shopping bags before handing you a skirt you just purchased. 

“I think this goes well,” she says, handing it to you.

Nami claps eagerly. “I’m so excited to see everyone’s reactions!” She and Robin share a meaningful look that you can’t decipher but you shrug it off as they turn away to let you get dressed.

Law’s unraveling, unsurprisingly, starts with the Straw Hats. He had been hoping for a quick supply trip before heading off on whatever next step the crew needed to take, but instead, he’s gotten tangled up in something far more recreational. He can’t say it’s the worst thing — all of your deserve time off for your constant hard work — but he would have enjoyed this free time more if had gotten to spend more of it with you. Instead, Luffy winds up snagging him in a conversation that only gives Law a headache while Nami and Robin split off from the rest of them and whisk you away for the rest of the day. 

It’s sunset and you still haven’t returned. Law’s foot taps impatiently on the wooden deck of the Thousand Sunny and he tries not to let his imagination get the better of him. Are you guys just dawdling or are you in trouble? Are you hurt? Has someone taken you? Are you still on the island? He’d never forgive himself if those worst case scenarios actually played out, here or anywhere else. 

The anxiety abates when Law hears Shachi yelling your name and the plan to dine with the Straw Hats. He spies you in between Nami and Robin, burdened under the weight of many, many bags. To his dismay, you don’t immediately board the Sunny, instead disappearing into the Tang with the two women on your heels. Law frowns as he watches and Shachi snorts, “Don’t worry, Captain, your girl will be here in a few.” 

Penguin snickers and Law shoots a glare at both of them, prompting the pair to raise their hands in surrender while trying to suppress their laughter. He’s glad that none of the Straw Hats picked up on their teasing, he’d never hear the end of it. 

Law likes to think he treats everyone on his crew equally and fairly, but he’s sure his crush on your slips through the cracks. He assigns you tasks that keep you close and consults you on many important decisions and strategies. It’s not just because he likes you — you’re absolutely brilliant, everyone know it, and he wouldn’t have recruited you if that wasn’t true — but he knows his affection impacts his decisions. Still, he does his best to not let it show.

You, Nami, and Robin appear as everyone sits down to dinner outside on the deck. Nami and Robin step on first, almost in a ceremonious way, and they make their ways to their seats, revealing you. There’s a beat of silence and then the response. Bepo’s jaw drops, Shachi lets out a low whistle, Penguin freezes, and Ikkaku smirks approvingly.

Law, mid-sip of water, nearly chokes. Because you stroll aboard, moving so casually and confidently that you seem to glide, and in a top and skirt that fit you in all the right ways and places. Law can’t recall the last time he’s seen you in something other than the boiler suit, outside of your baggy pajamas and the one time he caught you in the hallway after a shower and only wrapped in a towel. He’d had to lock himself in his room for a good thirty minutes to calm down. 

But here you are, haloed by the golden orange glow of the setting sun, and Law can’t decide if he should continue staring or tear his eyes away, the vision too much for his heart to handle. You’re beautiful, you always have been, but when you enhance it like this, it’s a whole other level. 

Law is snapped from his trance by a loud, fawning yell of your name. Sanji’s made his way over to you, sinking to his knees and clasping your hands in his. He calls your name again, words of devotion pouring from his mouth. “You’re a goddess! I am unworthy of you, of being in your very presence! You put angels to shame, my beloved—”

“Oi, love-cook, leave her alone and let us all eat in peace. No one wants to hear your yammering, especially her,” Zoro sneers and Law finds himself thankful for the interruption. 

“She can speak for herself, stupid moss-head!” Sanji fires back before returning his attention to you. “What do you say, my love?” Law feels his eye twitch, hands balling into fists.

You offer a gentle but firm smile. “You’re very sweet, but we should get to the meal you so generously cooked.” Law can’t stop the scowl forming on his face; he would have preferred you punch the Straw Hat cook.

Hearts practically pop from Sanji’s eyes as he nods fervently. “Of course, anything for you!” He trails after you as you take your seat in between Law and Shachi. Law tries his best to look anywhere else but you for the rest of the night. 

You finish shopping for supplies and other necessary items by the next morning, though you and Bepo manage to convince Law to stay until tomorrow evening, when you’ll depart from the isle. You all take advantage of the locals’ friendliness towards your crew and spend the afternoon on the sandy shores of the beach. 

You and Nami emerge from your room after Nami persuades you into your newly-bought bikini to lounge with her on beach towels while Sanji waits on you hand-and-foot. As you disembark, you see that Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin have shed their uniforms for comfortable t-shirts and shorts, engaged in a rather spirited volleyball game with Luffy, Usopp, and Franky. Not too far from them, Zoro naps in the shade of a leafy palm tree, Chopper snoozing on his lap. 

You scan the beach for Law, who you find resting under a shady tree with Robin. Law’s foregone his usual coat or sweatshirt, opting for a white tank and shorts, so you can see his toned muscles and dark, swirling tattoos easily. You’ve seen him like this before but it still flusters you. He and Robin are talking, and there’s something he says that makes him huff out a small chuckle. Your stomach twists at the sight. He always seems to somehow gravitate towards Robin when your crews meet. 

You know you’ve been watching them too long because Law pauses and looks over. Your gazes meet, and Law stares, eyes shifting down your body then up again. A second passes, maybe it’s three, and then he turns away again. Your feet won’t move and your mind moves a mile a minute trying to process what that was. 

You don’t have long to dwell on your feelings as Nami tugs you to a spot on the beach. You lay out your towels and it’s not long until Sanji skips over to the two of you with sugary praises and glasses of hibiscus-lemon tea. You’re grateful for the cool drink, relishing the way the tangy and sweet flavor melt on your tongue. You smile up at Sanji, who is making a valiant but failing effort not to stare at your chest. “Thanks for this, it’s really good.”

It sends the cook spinning, nearly fainting, and Nami rolls her eyes. “He’s an idiot, ignore him,” she huffs as she lays back down. You join her, setting your drink in the sand, and closing your eyes. The sunbeams lull you into a half-sleep as you bask in the heat until a shadow falls over you. You crack an eye open to see Law standing beside you, pointedly looking out towards the sea and not at you. “You’re going to burn,” he says. “Or worse. Put on some sunscreen.”

He already has some in hand and you can’t help but giggle a little. Your captain’s always prepared, huh? He gives you the bottle and you disperse the lotion across your arms, legs, and torso. You turn back to Law through, who is still next to you, and ask, “Could you get my back? I can’t reach it.”

Law hesitates and Sanji’s jumps in, saying, “My goddess, it would be my pleasure to—” 

Law snatches the bottle from you, squeezing some into his hand and lowering himself to kneel. His touch is cautious, careful about being respectful as his fingers slide over the open expanse of your back, working the lotion in. His hands brush the back of your neck before skimming down to your lower back. You shiver slightly, a bolt of pleasure shooting through you. It’s all too soon that Law finishes, rising silently with little ceremony as Sanji stews over the missed opportunity. 

You swear you catch Law smirking at Sanji, though it’s quickly wiped away when Ikkaku shouts, “Hey, Captain, you’re looking a little red!” Penguin and Shachi roar with laughter. He snaps back with some cutting remark but the effect is lost with how flushed his face has become. You don’t know if you’re much better off with heat crawling up your spine but it’s far less noticeable since you’ve been laying out in the sun.

As Law storms towards your crewmates, you attempt to calm your racing heart as you shift onto your stomach and rest your head on your arms. Nami pokes you in the side. “So?”

“So what?” you ask.

“So… are you ever going to tell him?”

You decide to play dumb. “Tell him what?”

Nami deadpans at you, and you sigh heavily. “Never, probably.”

“Really? Because it’s pretty obvious that he likes you too. I mean, he’s beet-red after the sunscreen stuff.”

“He’s probably just embarrassed because the crew teased him,” you say.

Nami snorts, “Yeah, right.” She leans back down and you think it’s the end of it but Nami adds, “He was red the moment he touched you, just so you know.”

Law’s mind is still filled with you in that outfit from last night, the way you seemed to shine when you spoke, when you laughed. He couldn’t look at you the whole night, too afraid he wouldn’t be able to look away. Afraid his feelings would bubble over, that the wine that was served would loosen his tongue just enough to let them spill out. He thought that was the worst of it.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Law sits with Robin under a tree, the two of them discussing and debating the virtue of free will. While Law isn’t particularly interested in philosophical debates, he’s willing to talk about this in order to distract him from mental images of you. Then, he feels as if someone is watching, observing. He looks up to see you on the back deck of the Polar Tang with Nami, a beach towel tucked under one arm and sunglasses perched on your head. Law’s gaze dips lower and his brain short-circuits when he sees your bikini. All at once, his mind is both devoid of thoughts and filled with too many. He can’t stop how his eyes rake over you — the expanse of your legs, the curve of your body, and the way the color of the bathing suit compliments your skin and makes the hues of your eyes stand out. His mouth is dry, tongue heavy, and he feels a primal electricity set his entire being alight. 

Law is still buffering and it takes a quiet but significant hum from Robin to make him realize he’s been gazing for way too long. He hastily looks away, trying his best to resume their previous conversation, but the archaeologist in front of him says, “You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

Robin exhales a laugh. “I know you know what I’m talking about.”

Law purses his lips. “I… she doesn’t see me like that.”

Robin’s lips raise in a small smile. “I beg to differ.”

“You don’t know her like I do.”

“Maybe not, but I know how she looks at you, smiles at you, talks with and about you.”

Law doesn’t respond and Robin hums again. “It’s your decision, but you should know that women like her don’t stay single forever.”

The words hit Law harder than he would ever admit but it’s obvious from the way he immediately gets to his feet, grabs the bottle of sunscreen that he had brought out, and marches over to you. 

You’re going to miss the Straw Hats when you part company, but you’re going to make the most of the last night with them. It seems that everyone has that in mind as dinner winds down. Plates are cleared and washed thanks to a combined effort, and soon, there’s good music playing and strong alcohol flowing. 

You’d slipped into a dress, long and backless, for the last night — it seemed right for the occasion. It lets you move easily, which you’re grateful for as Nami pulls you onto a rather large crate to dance. The two of you twist together, shaking your shoulders and hips while dissolving into fits of laughter.

Sanji gushes over the two of you below as you run your fingers through your hair. The night air is cool against your warming skin as you dance. You’re perfectly tipsy, buzzed but still in control of your body and mind. You like this feeling, this night — it’s effervescent and joyful. That’s always what the Straw Hats bring — joy.

You accidentally move back a step too far, and you would have tumbled off the crate had it not been for someone catching you. Their hand brushes the bare skin of your back and you expect it to be Sanji, since he’s right there. But when you glance up, you’re met with Zoro’s face instead. “You should be more careful,” he grumbles, setting you down with a surprising gentleness. You guess you shouldn’t be surprised — you saw him with Chopper yesterday, letting the little reindeer rest on him as they dozed together.

If looks could kill, Zoro would be dead two-times over with how Sanji glowers in front of him and Law glares from the far end of the ship. Not that the swordsman notices or cares. He says to you, “You should sit. I think that was enough excitement for tonight for you.”

“Okay, Dad, whatever you say.” You give Zoro a playful shove and he rolls his eyes but the corner of his mouth quirks up into a cross between a smile and a smirk. You’re about to make another quip, but the Sunny is enveloped in a familiar blue light. Before you know it, you’re at Law’s side, swapped for the drink Law had been holding. 

The doctor doesn’t speak immediately and you look at him expectantly. Then, Law asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just misjudged a step.” He’s silent again and you nudge him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Law considers you, examining your figure like he had yesterday. You feel suddenly too exposed, and you cross your arms to ease the feeling. Law’s eyes trail back to your face and there’s another beat of silence before he says, “I never, uh, I never told you how nice you look.”

“Huh?”

He motions towards you. “You look nice. You’ve looked… nice these past few days.” 

Heat floods your cheeks. Law says it in his straightforward way, one that leaves no room for you to question his sincerity. Still, you push out your bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and ask, “Just these past few days? Not normally?”

Law’s eyes go wide. “No! I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that. You look nice every day. Better than nice, actually. But just… especially nice recently.” His eyes rake over you again and he adds, “I’ve never seen this dress.”

“Not a lot of occasions to wear it on the Tang,” you say, your tone light. Law pauses, his head tilting in contemplation. 

Then, he says, “I suppose we don’t need these uniforms all the time.”

You raise your eyebrows and you’re quick to say, “I don’t want to you think that I don’t appreciate why we wear them—”

“I don’t think that,” he says. His eyes drift back to you and, softly, he adds, “I just think I could get used to seeing you… not in uniform.” Even in the dim light, you can see the pink that burns on his ears. It makes more heat shoot through your body, curling and spreading into every vein. 

You don’t know how to reply, so instead, you shift from standing in front of Law to beside him. Gingerly, you let your arms brush, your hands bumping together. Law doesn’t move, peering at you from the corner of his eye. Then, tentatively, you rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses for a second before relaxing into your weight. His hand cautiously winds around your back to sit on your waist, right above your hip. The silence that falls between you is comfortable but charged, filled with unspoken feelings that deserve a proper conversation. But for now, you both sink into each other’s touch and savor the warmth and peace that radiates in the night.

[tonycries]

Golden Brown - C.K.

Synopsis. Dearest gentle reader, it’s a royal affair! This social season we answer the age-long question: can a knight truly love a princess? For amidst the celebrations and pomp of your royal betrothal, rumors circulate that a certain handsome knight, Choso Kamo, already has his eyes (and hands) on you. Is forbidden romance in the air?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, knight!Choso, Bridgerton AU, princess x knight, best-friends-to-Iovers, regency AU, YEARNING, letters, secret admirers, betrothals, poIiticaI alliances, unrequited Iove (or is it?), the Ton, Lady Whistledown’s, papers, scandaIs, balls, pússydrúnk Choso, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, spítting, he’s a MUNCH, face-ríding, sneaking off, service d, he’s FÉRAL, ríding him, using him, fírst times, manhandIing, making it fit, cervíx smooches, begging to be yours, rough s babbIing, DÚMBlFICATlON, making you work for it, creampíes, pushing it back in, cúmpIay, slight overstím, confessions, HAPPY ENDING, coronations, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.9k

A/N. Heard there was a new Bridgerton season so I just had to <33

The letter is short.

“It’s you.

My dearest princess, surely, you must know that it can only ever be you.

I have battled fruitlessly this greatest conflict of my life—those of the soul—and I cannot bear it any longer. I have fraught, and choked, and swallowed my words in the hope that, perhaps, one day they shall cessate along with this traitorous heart of mine. It is what it deserves. Diverted from its duties to the body, my heart exists solely to count the beats of time that I am beside you.

It aches the greatest ache, as my affection remains unchanged. And the words yest escape me onto this page, my dearest princess.

Thus, I beg that you forgive this lowly admirer for his treason.

For, it’s you. It’s you. It’s you.

It shall at last and forevermore be you.”

Unsigned and unclaimed. Left on the gilded surface of your nightstand, as it had been every morning for the past four years.

Your bashful secret admirer.

Now, the first time had been rather a shock—to both you and the flutter of attendants who’d happened upon the parchment. You certainly didn’t have any close acquaintances nor prospects entertained whom were so dedicated to deliver a letter at the splinter of daybreak (and a brief interrogation of your personal ladies-in-waiting showed that they’d seen nothing of who’d been slipping you notes at night). 

It had to be someone from the palace, however - if they managed to deliver these letters so frequently and so easily.

Though most nobles sent their correspondences upon dishes of pure silver, with an attendant from their court that would recount every detail of your reaction to them later. But this one had no staff attached to it, no emblem, no name. No identity in the very least.

Nothing but slanted, slightly trembling words as if the writer’s hand had been caught in an inescapable tremor the entire time. And the flower.

Every morning, once you excitedly unfurled the little pink ribbon that tied the letter up, a small yellow daffodil would fall from inside. As if a piece of the early morning sunlight, plucked from the skies, placed in your hands, you’d roll the stem between your fingers as you read through the letter.

Each word more tantalizing than the last.

You’d tried to spend the night awake on several occasions, of course, to catch this romantic culprit in the act. But the only thing that served you was a few hours of sleep, and a thoroughly cranky elocution teacher once you kept nodding off during class - and no admirer, evidently. And yet you’d still awoken to the neatly tied-up parchment in the morning. 

Like a phantom in the night.

The letter was the first sign of daybreak itself.

When that scheme had found itself utterly useless, you’d taken to warning your personal knights stationed outside your royal chamber - certainly not to get your admirer caught, rather to find out just a morsel of information about them. A morsel.

Yuji and Nobara had been rightfully horrified, though you’d insisted that whoever this was meant no harm! 

You suspected that your admirer snuck into your room in the few minutes between the knights changing their stations: Yuji and Nobara would be set firmly outside until midnight, and any dark hours past that would have your doorstep occupied by knights Choso and Yaga. Two of the most trusted knights in all the kingdom, with all the accolades to prove it.

And it certainly helped that Choso had been your personal knight for the past two years - though you’d been friends for far longer than that. Always at your side, always staring down nobles that overstepped, always offering his hand out to you when a step was too steep.

He was your rock. He is.

He’d been one of the court advisor’s sons, your age. You remember being a young royal unaware (or perhaps uncaring) of the duties that loomed for you in the horizon; spending summer mornings playing tag with Choso and a few of the other children in the palace, and winter nights breezing through books and time like sand—just the two of you in that grandiose library. His father resided in a modest estate not too far off from the palace, and Choso cried every time he had to say goodbye to you. Every single day.

You grew the most close with Choso.

And once he had come of age, he’d promptly signed up to become a knight. 

Through training and nutrition plans, and battles and scars, Choso had climbed up the ranks faster than any other you’ve ever seen. Though he was still as tender-hearted as you remembered him - he’d shed a few tears the day he was assigned to a brief battle on the outskirts of the kingdom. Away from you.

But you’d simply wiped away his tears and cooed in a low voice that your elocution lessons hadn’t taught you to—come back to me soon, Cho.

And he had.

The battle with the Zenins had ended, and Choso Kamo had returned as the kingdom’s most celebrated warrior. It’s whispered to this day amongst the palace staff how he’d kicked off his saddle in town, run past all the bubbling celebrations- straight to the royal palace where he’d waded past the congratulating courts and straight to you—

All in platonic friendship, of course.

Of course.

But you suppose it didn’t help quell the rumors when Choso rejected your father, the King’s, offers of estates and riches. Of lifetimes of luxury. He’d stood before the royal court and bowed his head, having only one request of the monarch: to be your personal knight. Forevermore until he breathes.

And how could one say no to the turning point of the battle?

And thus, he’d become your knight. Yours.

You suppose it was around this time that the letters had started, too…

You clutch this morning’s letter to your chest and breathe in the smell of fresh ink, leather, and the faintest hint of summer vanilla that dripped off of the page. It was always this scent that followed your admirer’s ardent declarations, and soon enough every time you passed the gardens or poked at a vanilla dessert, you couldn’t help but think of him. 

A knock interrupts your thoughts and you startle.

Pushing the letter carefully underneath your pillow, “Come in.”

The towering double doors of your bedroom had small gilded swirls on it, which, if you stepped back, melded together to form an image that looked like the clouds above. Frothing and tumbling and swirling. Heaven itself. How oddly poetic that through these gates of heaven would walk in Choso Kamo, his knight’s armor catching the rays of morning sunlight.

His visor was pushed up to reveal his face.

His features were sharp and handsome.

His doe-like brown eyes were the envy of the courts.

He looks at you in your thin nightgown and flushes- “Y-your Highness—!”

Choso’s armor clanks and clutters as he hurries to turn away from you, and soon enough you find yourself staring at the knight’s broad back. Chiselled after so many years of training. Bringing a hand up to your lips you have to stifle a giggle at the sheer contrast- “My dearest knight, does it disgust you to gaze upon me like so?”

“Th-the furthest thing from it, Your Highness.” He sputters, and you swear you catch the back of his neck - just the slightest slit you could see between his armor plates - burning bright red. Blushing.

“Do you believe me of unsound character, then?” You challenge, “Do you believe me a harl-”

“Bear not the thought!”

“Then turn.”

He does—barely. Just enough degrees that you can see his handsome side profile, and he can stare at you through his peripheral vision- though that, too, is largely obscured by his helmet. “Forgive me…” Choso gulps. “-but the mere sight of you is not suited to be gazed upon by this lowly knight, my princess.”

“You have been within ames-ace of Yaga for far too long.” You tut.

But you’re still reaching for the gold-laced robe draped over the edge of your bed - your attendants had placed it there last night. Choso was always the first to greet you in the morning.

And it’s only once he’s completely sure that the robe now covered the beautiful angles and curves of your body, that is obscured from him what is Eve’s most beautiful apple, does he turn to face you. Only to find that he had spent so long mustering up the courage, that you’d already dipped underneath your pillow and pulled out-

“Yet another letter, Your Highness?” Choso queries, and you nod. 

It was requisite that such an occurrence must be shared with your personal knight - most of all, your friend. And you didn’t feel the need to hide it from Choso as you did with your parents—perhaps because you knew his duty was to you, above all. You above the crown. “Oh, you shan’t believe it- today they wrote the most romantic line about how their heart beats simply to count their time beside me—”

Choso gives a jerky nod, “And the flower?”

“As always.” You’re pinching the little flower where it had been laid safely on top of your decadent pillow, showing it to him.

Your best friend takes one look at it and breaks out into an almost…relieved smile. “I see- he really is a stubborn old fool, isn’t he?”

“Oh, don’t call him a fool.” You huff. Turning away with your flower, “I think he’s just lovely.”

“Suppose he is a fool?” Choso probes, “Suppose he isn’t of great wits- would you still think he’s lovely?”

You furrow your brows at him, “But, of course. Intelligence cannot be measured by how many dusty books you read. Despite that, I believe that one would be of rather sound wits should they wish to compose letters this beautiful.”

There’s a pause. “Then suppose he isn’t rather pleasant to look at?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” You counter stubbornly. “I think that I should find them quite beautiful either way.”

“Then suppose he’s a commoner?”

“That is the last thing I would fuss about-”

“But what if he’s a…” Choso starts- and as you wait for him to finish—he shakes his head. Giving you a light bow, “I apologize for getting carried by the conversation, Your Highness. I have just been reminded of my orders to urge you into prompt preparation to receive some very special guests today. I have summoned your ladies-in-waiting, they are stationed at the third royal baths.”

“Guests?” You ask. The palace always did have a constant flow of royals and nobles and merchants and people of the public going in and out, and rarely did you have to make a personal accompaniment with them. “What special guests may we—”

It’s then that you look at your calendar of quarter days: social days and tutoring days, and a day circled in rouge.

Today.

“Ah…”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader, 

Royal gossip has always been the lifeblood of the Ton—particularly this year, with the debut of our Royal Highness, the princess, this social season. Rumors have been a-swirling for quite some time now, speculation about just which eligible gentleman will be lucky enough to win over the beautiful royal’s hand in marriage: perhaps a fair noble, perhaps the richest merchant of the land, perhaps a prince from a far-away land. The possibilities are endless!

Our dignified royal family has always been rather private about such matters regarding their princess, but today this humble writer is here to put these whispers to rest, my dear reader.

My most trust-worthy sources inform me of a royal fleet that has docked in our harbor early in the morrow—a fleet with none other than the Zenin family insignia upon its flag!

Now, before you fear another military skirmish with the ever-ruthless Zenin family, gentle reader, let me assure you that my insiders state this royal visitation to not be an act of warfare. Rather…of romance.

Some claim an age-long betrothal, some claim a political marriage in the works.

The cauldron of curiosity bubbles even further once you learn that the Zenin family, including His Highness Naoya Zenin, shall be paying a royal visit to the palace today! And some members of the royal knights claim they shall take extra precaution, and that Her Highness’s personal guard - a handsome young knight by the name of Choso Kamo - is to be with her at all times. Ooo la la!

It will certainly make it difficult for either Prince Naoya nor any other…admirer to get close to the princess (the palace walls talk, gentle reader, and some of my sources claim the presence of a second interest in Her Highness’s life—secret letters being hand-delivered every single night!) 

But that is neither here nor there, and your writer is certainly not planning a visit to the royal dungeons in the near future!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

.

.

.

“—such a beautiful garden-” Naoya’s lip curls as he looks out of the tall, sun-lit window at the rolling field below. Your parents barely have enough time to open their mouths in response before he continues, “-but of course, ours is much larger. Second only to our stables and the incredible militia grounds that we have-”

Everyone in the meeting hall closes their mouth, quenches their hope for speaking at least for the next twenty-five minutes.

You learn within the first few moments of meeting him that Naoya Zenin liked hearing his own voice, and any time he wasn’t, he was replaying his own voice over and over inside his head. You also learn that you don’t like him in the slightest.

Which makes being betrothed to him all the more difficult.

It had been a political alliance- or so your father had briefed you one night several months ago. Calling you into his office, holding your hand, he had let you cry on his shoulder for the first time in years that night.

To unite two people who had been locked in a bloody border war for far too long - that was your duty.

And this marriage was the key.

It had been long enough to let the finality of it sink in, and not nearly as long enough for it not to sting. Still. It hurt like a hot iron embedded in your heart once you had to curtsey for the prince. 

He had barely bowed back.

And now the two royal families - as well as several esteemed members of your council - were spread out in the grand meeting hall. Watching as the blond-haired royal turned his nose up at the plate of intricate desserts offered to him by a male attendant—he flicks his hand at the boy and orders the woman standing beside him to do it.

The woman being no one else but the most talented healer in all the land. 

Shoko Ieri looks ready to stab him with her scalpel.

“Compensating.” A low whisper sounds from behind you.

You don’t have to turn to know that it’s Choso- but you do anyway. And your heart flutters just a little as you spy his warm brown eyes through the gaps of his visor, “Pardon?”

He repeats, “Compensating.” Nodding towards Naoya who had now roped your mother into a spiel about his armory.

“—we boast the largest swords in the entire world, you see.” Naoya was bragging in his grating tone, and your poor mother could only nod. “The best- the biggest. Any old cod can claim that size doesn’t matter and yet our biggest swords are-”

You can’t help it - you catch Choso’s eye and you both have to force yourselves from bursting into a fit of chuckles.

Both turning into each other.

Your hand clutching Choso’s arm for support.

Choso’s gentle hum of laughter breezing the top of your head.

Only too late do you realize that everyone in the room had their eyes turned to you - each in varying degrees of horror at the proximity between a princess and her knight. Except for Shoko who had gone from glowering at the prince to looking somewhat…knowing.

Damn you, Shoko—you’re half-heartedly cursing her out in your head as you straighten up. Trying not to flinch as Choso follows and takes a step backwards to stand behind you.

As a knight is told to be.

You can’t see the expression on Choso’s face nor his demeanour, but what you do know is the familiar creaking of metal as your best friend sags in on himself. Almost shielding himself from the world underneath all that armor. 

Perhaps from it.

You notice that he always did so whenever someone in court made his place known: whenever they flickered their eyes between the two of you, whenever they pushed their noble sons to greet you, whenever they questioned just why a knight was allowed to even look at the princess like so.

He took it all to heart. Crumpled it up inside, and in doing so he crumpled that beating thing as well.

You wanted to say something—but you knew you couldn’t.

And, of course, it’s Naoya who speaks first. “Hmm, once we are wed then I shall have to make sure that such a thing is not repeated.”

“There is no such thing to speak of.” You speak through a grit smile.

“So you say—” He takes a bite of a puff pastry and places it back on the golden plating, “-but as your husband, it is I who shall have the final say.”

Yell strangled in your throat, you take a step forward-

Only for your father to sense the growing tension and ease his way in, “So is that to say a royal wedding might be on the horizon?”

Naoya takes his sweet time answering, “Well…” Looking straight at you as he contemplates, he wipes off a bit of leftover vanilla cream from the edge of his lip and flicks it. “That is what I’m saying, Your Majesty.”

Your father claps his hands heartily, “Send for the wedding preparations right away—! Oh, and draft the announcement for the-”

But you don’t hear a single word.

It feels numb.

It feels like something’s buzzing inside of your head.

You’re unsteady on your feet until a cold metallic hand reaches out and clasps hold of you.

You know it’s Choso and you do not let go.

.

.

.

Your heart aches at the letter you receive on the morning afterwards: the morning of the official announcement.

“My dearest princess, cry not.

Cry not—for a single drop of your tears is worth more than all the raindrops in heaven, all the rays of sunlight kissing the Earth, and all the beats of my heart. 

It has been running rattle-brained, foolishly wild, these past few hours as I stagger upon the thought that I may lose you. Not that this lowly admirer had you in the first place, my dearest princess, you must forgive me for my presumption. But in every little way in which you are mine, I gain to lose you still.

Cry not for a man that should not cry for you, my dearest princess. Cry not for a man that cries for you still.

And I…above all I am a selfish man. I am a selfish man—utterly selfish—and should all the world’s laws be up to me, then you and I, should you wish it, would have been married four summers past.

Alas, I am overruled.”

You’re dressed for the public.

And once you’re escorted to the royal balcony where all palace announcements are conducted, you look up from the ground just in time to see Yuji catch Choso’s eye. The long-haired man behind you shakes his head.

Though you’re not quite sure what it means, it somehow makes you feel all the more worse.

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader, 

Though it is not in good manners for a lady to gasconade, allow this writer here to tell you that I had proclaimed so—a royal wedding is forthcoming!

You have read that right, dear reader!

Don your best silks and gather your best florals, for soon her Royal Highness, the princess, shall be wed to Prince Naoya Zenin. According to what was proclaimed at the most recent palace announcement, a grand wedding is to take place in a week’s time, immediate after the Royal Diamond Ball, to celebrate the union. Though experts speculate that this marriage is likely of political origins rather than the heart-fluttering romance that some think, one thing is for certan—His Highness, Naoya Zenin, certainly seemed to take the affair in stride.

Witnesses to the official announcement claim that the prince simply couldn’t keep the smile off of his face at the thought of his beautiful new bride (though others claim that it’s due to his imminent rise to the throne thereafter, as he isn’t the first heir to the Zenin Family—however, you didn’t hear that from me, dear reader!)

Others at the site were more entranced by none other than the princess’s trusty personal knight - Choso Kamo was expectedly standing guard beside Her Highness. But what caught the attention of eagle-eyed onlookers was rather the…expression upon his handsome face.

You could not pay me to name a more heart-broken man, dear reader! You could not!

Perhaps this is an omen of how the wedding preparations are being handled behind the curtains? Perhaps this is an omen of…something more?

This writer has a personal inkling about the reasons as to why knight Choso might have looked at Her Highness with nothing less than sorrow (did somebody say tears in his eyes?) 

And amongst this roulette of wishful men I know you’re asking me—but Lady Whistledown, what of the princess’s secret admirer? 

Well—you’ll be happy to know that I come with reliable insight that the secret delivery of love letters has yet to cease! Yes, gentle reader, this particular admirer seems quite passionate in their affections. Even going so far as to send one just after the announcement. Should the letters have yet to halt now, one can only imagine whether they shall stop even after the royal wedding.

The prince. The admirer. The knight (perhaps?) How can one choose?!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

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.

.

“Big brother-”

“No-”

“Big brother, I simply state that-”

“Quiet, Yuji.” 

Choso’s tone comes out harder than he’d intended, and his chest clenches at the wounded look in the younger boy’s eyes. Without wasting a single second, and without looking to see if anyone was nearby, he’s lunging forwards and embracing the boy into his arms.

Holding him just as he had when they were children and the pink-haired one would fall and bruise himself- though the only one that feels bruised right now is Choso.

It had been a week since the wedding announcement.

And all preparations had been in full swing: enough so that between all the dress-fittings, and the flower-pickings, and the guest-greetings, Choso hadn’t even had the time to exchange a proper conversation with you. Not that he was in the place to - especially not anymore.

Tonight was the Royal Diamond Ball of the season, where one Diamond shall be picked, always taking place inside the palace.

Except, this time, it had doubled in both extravagance and guest-list due to the simple fact that tonight was also the grand ball before your wedding. Tomorrow morning you would walk down the aisle in a dress of white.

Tomorrow morning you will be another’s wife.

He hugs his younger brother tight, “Yuji, I apologize for my brash words-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Yuji finally breaks the hug, “I was simply careless with my own words.”

“You were not-”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t be happy- why both of you can’t be happy. Together.” He looks away, eyes filling with tears he knows wouldn’t encompass even the tiniest fraction of what his brother has shed over this very reason. “It’s just not fair.”

“Some things…some things are meant to be the way they are.” Choso stares ahead at the gilded hallway spread out before him, “We must simply persist.”

Yuji looks as though he wants to say something more- but at that very moment, the doors to your royal chamber are opening. The two knights had been stationed there until you were fussed-over and all dolled-up for the Royal Diamond Ball tonight - the last as an unwed princess. The last before you were bound to Naoya Zenin.

And looking at you now, Choso thinks that it would’ve been worth it to cut down the wedding and all its procession for you.

Because there wasn’t a word to describe you.

The soft champagne of the taffeta draped over your shoulders and puffed up fashionably at your arms, cascading down in a waterfall of expensive silks up to your ankles. Following were glistening pearls that only brought out the beauty of the dress - your beauty - wrung at the edges of your hem and necklines. Delicate bracelets where your hands were gloved. A singular diamond hanging from your neck. And of course—your tiara.

It weighed heavily on your head.

Your ladies-in-waiting had dabbed on a bit of glittering rouge on your lips.

It was all that Choso could stare at.

You weren’t just bound to be the Diamond of the season, you were a diamond from the night sky. And he’s still trying to find a word to describe you that he knows wouldn’t come close, not even in a hundred of his l—

“Choso?” You cock your head gently at him. Trying not to bite down on your lower lip in nervousness and smear your attendants’ hard work, “Is something the matter-”

“Enchanting.” He blurts out- but that wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes, and he wouldn’t take the word back anyway. He looks at you and says in a more firm tone, “You look enchanting, my princess.”

You try - and fail - to bite back a smile—and ultimately end up swatting him on his armored chest. “Enchanting? Do not think that flattery shall stop me from forcing you into a dance tonight.”

“Ah—foiled again!” He dramatically looks to the skies.

“Fool.” You joking strike him again - Choso had dressed up for the occasion as well. His armor had been polished until it shined like a mirror, reflecting your own two ogling eyes back at you. Even the hilt of his blade looked deathly sharp.

He’d pushed his visor up and that gave you a glimpse of those two doe-like eyes, chestnut brown and warm. He was staring at you in a way that made you squirm.

Though Lady Whistledown’s society papers tended to use pretty prose, what they hadn’t lied about was this. Just how handsome he was.

“P-perhaps we ought to make our entrance.” You say.

And he nods in understanding, “We ought to—” But, what Choso realizes, is that he doesn’t understand at all.

And his breath hitches as you clutch onto his right arm with both hands. Attaching yourself against his side- how he wished he could feel the warmth of your body through his armor-

“These shoes are far too tall.” You fail to meet his eyes, “Forgive me, but if I could use a bit of support until-”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He breathes.

Your actual entrance into the grand ball is a blur - you’ve attended far too many of these in far too short a time before. It’s the crunch of velvet carpet underneath your too-tall shoes, and the strangely burning sensation of all eyes being directed at you. 

At the way you were still holding onto Choso.

You distance yourself from him silently, and he falls in step behind you. The master of ceremonies announces your name even though everyone here already knows it. The staircase is never-ending and unrelenting, each step louder than the thundering of your heartbeat, a staccato of what feels like your own unravelling.

You’re slightly off-kilter as you reach the end- before a hand shoots out to help you.

You grasp onto the man’s calloused hand gratefully, looking up to realize that it was Yaga. 

“Watch your step, Your Highness.” He helps you stand and wade through the crowd. As the head knight, Yaga had the freedom to forgo the armor tonight. It was a strong navy blue, nearly the entire chest of it covered in numerous medals and colors - warning off keen-eyed nobles from nearing. 

You catch sight of Naoya surrounded by ladies-in-wait by the feast-

Yaga’s voice breaks through, “What is it that’s on your mind, Your Highness?”

“Nothing.” You answer instantly, “It’s just- it must be pre-wedding jitters.”

“I see…” He looks at you intensely, and you feel as though he can see right through you. Know right through what you’re really feeling. “Then in that case, all is well, correct?”

“Correct.”

He almost smiles, “And you are ready to be wed to His Highness Naoya, correct?”

“C-correct.”

“And you shall be thinking of a certain knight- or a certain admirer on the altar, correct?”

“Correct-” You falter, “Excuse me?”

“Ah—it seems the orchestra is commencing.” Yaga looks into the distance where the violin players had started easing in soft trills, as if music itself had waited for your arrival. “Now, my back is certainly too weathered for such dances- but I shall hold you with me no longer, Your Highness.” He turns to you and gives you a gentle smile, “Go—have your first dance.”

You almost plead, “But with who?” Naoya was still…occupied with all the court ladies- not that you would ever in a million years want to dance with Naoya Zenin in the first place-

“Whoever your heart may desire.” Yaga interrupts your thoughts, letting go of your hand- though not before pressing in something delicate and flat into it. He looks somewhere behind you—“A letter, asked of me to hand to you. I only implore that you stay as true to your heart, as he is to you.”

As Yaga disappears into the crowd starting to twirl in their tulle skirts—you open that little piece of paper up.

A short message.

“My dearest princess,

Steps behind you, a vision I do not deserve to see. 

The most enchanting girl in the world to me.”

Enchanting.

The paper nearly falls out of your hand, and you can only look behind you - to where Choso Kamo was refusing to meet your eyes. His metallic visor was down and you couldn’t help but step closer.

Uncaring what they say as you’re reaching out and fastening it upwards- “Is this your penmanship, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Do you think I look enchanting, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Does your heart beat solely for me, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Do you not wish for me to be married—” At that, he flinches like a wounded animal. And you already know that he most certainly won’t be answering that question. Which is why you’re answering instead, “For I feel much the same towards you.”

He snaps his head up, glittering brown eyes pleading down at you. He breathes…“Of which sentiment?”

You smile, “All of it.”

“A-and the marriage-” Choso takes a jerky step towards you, his armor creaking like the weight of dungeon chains. “The alliance-”

“May I have this first dance?” You simply reach your hand out.

And as the music crescendos, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your head. Letting you lead into a golden floor.

Gasps deafen the ballroom music.

.

.

.

The Ton was a-flutter and a-ripe with scandal as you spent your first dance at the Royal Diamond ball with your knight instead of your betrothed. At least, that’s what you imagine - the truth is that you’d been too entranced with Choso Kamo to even pay attention.

He’d held you gently - so gently - as though his large hands could break you at any given moment. 

And Choso had never let his eyes stray from your figure as he twirled you around the ballroom. He would have cared about the whispered- he should have…but how could he when he had the most enchanting girl in the world in his arms?

Too soon- your dance was cut short by an arm on Choso’s shoulder. Stopping him.

You’d both turned to face Naoya Zenin, furious spit lining the edges of his lips. He had barked out a formal order for the knight to step aside and hand him your dance- and though Choso’s hand had gone to his sword…

You’d shaken your head at him.

It was a half-dance with Naoya (of which you’d excused yourself feigning networking duties) and a hastened walk to the edge of the ballroom. Right where Choso Kamo was attempting to blend into the gilded ballroom.

You’d nodded discreetly at him and he already knew—

With Yaga suddenly causing a commotion- accidentally spilling his red wine on Lady Mei Mei’s dress, no one had noticed the two of you slipping out after the second dance. Before the Diamond was announced.

He followed you silently, two steps behind as a knight should, all the way up to your royal bedroom.

It was only once you’d reached your towering double doors that you took Choso by hand- all but dragging the handsome knight inside. And though he’d squawked in surprise, you’d merely looked at your best friend with determined eyes.

“Take me, Choso.”

He gasps. His shudders.

He was going to ruin the princess.

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

Choso’s heavy armor fell to the ground—

CLANK!

The last of it before the knight scoops his strong arms underneath your legs and hoists you up into that princess carry you’ve read about in every fairy tale. Choso walks you gently over to the expansive bed, before setting you down and laying you all flat—

“Why’re you by the foot of the bed, Cho?” You’re huffing down at the man who was now pressed against the mahogany bedframe. He had his knees down on the soft carpet, kneeled at your feet. Grabbing onto one of Choso’s toned arms - still in a gauzy white poet’s shirt that had been worn underneath his armor - you attempt futilely to pull him upwards. “Come lay with me.”

Looking away with a blush. “Why…have you really not the faintest idea, my dearest princess?” Hearing those words from his mouth sends shivers down your spine. 

He looks at you with dark, half-lidded eyes. Hands spreading your thighs apart and sliding down the sides of your legs. Beneath those customary layers of silk. Choso’s hands keep roaming, and there’s a sudden rush of heat pulsing down to your core once you register his fingertips scraping the edge of your undergarments. 

Mouth falling slightly agape.

“I-It’s only customary to give the lady a kiss before the dance—”

You’re gasping as your brain registers the innuendo- but not before Choso dips his mouth down and gives your cunt a looooong kiss through your sodden panties. Open-mouthed and hot.

He draaaaags the tip of his tongue down your slit n’ tastes you for the first time. Letting a single droplet of your syrupy slick end up splashin’ on his tongue- and he fucking moans. Loud.

Just so husky and attractive that it makes your body buck up into him without even realizing.

And it’s all that Choso needs to let go of his inhibitions. It’s all that he needs to hold both your wrangling thighs down and press himself even deeper against your aroused cunt. Nose-deep. Chest heaving in such guttural puffs.

It’s as if the knight didn’t even need to breathe as long as he could reach deeper against your sopping slit. So wet that he’s feeling your puffy pussylips through the fabric of your underwear- he slashes his tongue between your folds and makes you rut-

“Wh-what is this feeling…ngh.” Unable to help but pipe up in a shrill tone, you struggle to keep your hand pressed against your noisy mouth.

And he doesn’t even answer.

He can’t.

He’s lurching his mouth back and forth at a frenzied pace—crazed. Licking his tongue all over the inches of your cunt he could reach, rubbin’ his ridged tastebuds up and down the swollen outer part of your pussy. 

You were just so damn soaked that it almost felt as if there was no barrier between your pussy and his ravenous mouth at all. Gaping even wider open and heavily kissing your pussy, he was almost thrusting his face against your sensitive cunt-

“Choso-” You gasp, your breaths all dampened. Hands weaving through his long brown hair for dear life. “Choso oh heavens—”

It was just too enchanting how your voice broke on the very last syllable of your sentence. And Choso can’t deny that it makes something carnal deep inside him twitch- “My dearest princess.”

“O-oh…” And you certainly didn’t expect his murmuring tone to send vibrations running up your spine like that.

Breathy. “Is that good, my dearest princess?” Choso’s mouth waters at the way his words only seem to make you splosh out in even more slick—gushing. It trickles greedily down either side of his mouth like two slick rivulates. And you can’t help but snap your head down and think that he looked utterly drunk - gaze half-lidded, lips puffy and red, forehead beading with sweat from his movements. Kissing. “My dearest princess.” Heaving. “My dearest princess.”

“P—please—” You’re trilling out, your head falling into the pillows behind you. “Choso, heavens, I beg of you to c-catch your breath-”

“And yet does it feel good, princess?”

That broken lil’ sentence of his punctuated by the most sloppy slash between your pussylips- smearin’ them apart and accurately pinpointing your clit. With the flexible tip of his tongue he presses inwards against that soft spot and makes you see stars.

Sends your hips rutting furiously against his pretty face, and your moans roaring. “Damn—fuck.” His cock throbs at the way he’d made such a poised, perfect princess break her demeanor. Swear- shit, he really was ruining you. “Fuck, yes- mmm, it feels so good.”

“Feels so good…what?” He’s rasping out.

And you have to blink through your film of tears down at him- “What?” He was now creating a rhythmic mwah of his lips down upon your clit - just lick upon lingering liiiiiick to drive you absolutely wild. 

“It feels so good—” He’s groaning out straight into your cunt, already knowing that you’d be left all tender with his voice And just then you feel two pointed canines snag against your throbbing nub and almost…bite. “-who?”

“Choso—” So that was what he wanted all along? To have you hiccup and squeal his name as he draaaagged his lips from corner to corner of your leaky crevice and lapped up every ounce you gave? To have you absolutely shattered- “Choso-”

“Yeeees?” Alternating between snagging his honed canines down your clit n’ suckling on it.

Like his most favorite candy from the feast downstairs- and yet, you’d be the sweetest dessert out of them all. He was making out with your pussy just like it, too. “Choso- fuck, Choso I didn’t have the daftest idea that you could ever—mmm, it just feels too good.”

“Feels good?” He’s gutturally gasping, teeth scraping through your panties and creating little tears. Wrapping his pink lips ‘round your clit and hollowing his cheeks out of sheer force- “This feels good?”

“Yes-”

Nibblin’ his pearly whites down on your undergarments and tearing it down your slit. Swipin’ his tongue back and forth- “This feels—good-”

“Yes.” You gurgle out. It’s more and more. 

It’s just the pinkish tip of his tongue that was proddin’ at your bundle of nerves. He slips it into a tiny hole town through your silken undergarments- and it’s enough to make your hips cleanly arch off the mattress. “Ch-Chosoooo—” 

Choso’s darkened eyes flap wider open- “Suppose that feels even better, my dearest princess?”

And all he really wanted to do was make you numb with pleasure.

All he really wanted to do was slobber his mouth across that sweetened cunt of yours until he couldn’t even breathe- he’d be satisfied by the fact.

And Choso isn’t even thinking twice before he’s weighing down on one of the tears in your panties - something that he’d done with his very own mouth. Now his crowned fingertips were pushing against the delicate fabric and making it rip-rip-riiiiiiiiiip—!

Not even all the way through.

Just enough for two of Choso’s rightly thick fingers to seep through your undergarments and kiss your hole dead-on.

You flinch as he’s spreading your entrance with the most lecherous slurp! The knobbled ends of his digits pushing aside both your pussylips and simply aiming for that cutely leaking hole- how in heavens were you this wet? This tantalizing?

Tasty.

Choso reaches his slick-gazed fingers out of your cunt and raises it up to his vision - glimmering in the pale moonlight with all your candied liquids - he doesn’t hesitate before plopping them straight into his mouth. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and Choso moans as he tastes you- 

“S-shoooo good—” 

Fuck, was he slurring his words?

You’re raising up onto your elbows to question him, “Choso, did you just-”

But Choso doesn’t seem to hear- Choso doesn’t even seem to have anything running through his mind right now except for you and your pretty pussy. You and your pretty pussy.

You and your pretty pussy that gapes just as he pumps a few inches of his fingers inside - cunt getting glossed in your clingy slick once he squeezes his way inside. He’s feeling for the way your sopping wet walls glue to him like adhesive- stopping him briefly in his tracks before Choso’s stickin’ a thumb on top of your clit and making you take him.

“C’mon-” He hisses between clenched canines, brows furrowing down in concentration. “C’mon c’mon—it feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

“It does-” Hiccuping - trying and failing to buck your hips up for more. But the only thing you’re doing is succeeding in having Choso slip a hand up to grab your waist, pinning your body down to the squeaky mattress with such ease.

Your knight’s keeping your body on a damn leash while he fucks out a slooooow and sensual tempo between your legs. Just the fatness of each finger roverin’ deeper spots inside your walls, you swear you can feel out every single stretch. “Easy there, princess.” He knew his princess’s body better, it seems. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It does but—fuck.” And just then Choso’s hooking his fingers in an incredible way that leaves your legs weak. Plumply pushing against one bunch of your nerves and sending shockwaves up to your brain. “Fuck, I want more, Choso.”

“Patience, Your Highness.” Choso spits out- literally. A dangling ribbon of saliva that clings onto your pussylips n’ makes it easier for the first inch or two of his digits to slip inside.

“But Choso—”

“Patience.” He hums, low vibrations. The space between your legs lets out the most lecherous loud squelches as he’s probin’ in and out. Watching as your swollen pussylips stretch out aaaaaaaall wide open- 

He curls his lengthy digits against the velvety roof of your cunt. Making you just twitch, he’s grinning his slick-lipped grin. “I know you’re all needy right now, princess. But you need to learn to take it loooong and slow—” Emphasizing it by dragging his puffy digits along your walls and scissoring them multiple times. “-like that, see? That feels good, hm?”

“It does, but…” You pout.

Choso’s long lashes quiver, eyes widening slightly. “But?” Slightly crazed.

“But I want- hck!” Further pushing your slobberin’ cunt against his features, you’re dragging your most sensitive bits along his faces and shivering as it grazes his prominent nose. Desperately yowling, “But I want more-”

“Then command it.”

You snap your eyes open, “P-pardon?”

“Then command it.” But it still doesn’t sound real in your ears- ringing with pressure from his fingers slipping in and out. Hitting almost every spot you wanted him to—almost. He latches his mouth ‘round your clit once more and- he doesn’t suck. No.

Choso’s sinking his teeth into that perfect lil’ nub and draaaaagging it right out a centimeter or two until you scream. Fluttering his pretty lashes, “Aren’t you the princess, my dear?” Barely even waiting for your answer before your cunt squelches with a third one of his fingers- “Aren’t I your knight? Go on—command me.”

“P-please-” And Choso gnaws his teeth down even more meanly to stop you from using your royal manners. Until all you can do is bend your spine into the perfect curvature and puuush- grabbing onto his sweaty locks with absolutely no mercy. “Choso, I order you to go harder.”

His cock has never been harder. 

He’s not even giving you a warning before thwacking! a strike with three globular fingertips, all the way at the very gooey bottom of your pussy. Rasping. “Harder?”

“Faster.” You barely gasp. “Choso, I-I order you-”

“Faster?” As if the only thing he can do when he’s so focused on fucking your pussy in harsh, thumpin’ hammers is that mantra of your words. “What else? What else, my liege?”

“Leige…” Bouncing your hips up, up, up—you might be too gone on his perfectly girthy fingers to realize the way you were swervin’ your waist to and fro. Just letting his lengthy fingers navigate the slick maze inside of you, plump fingertips spearheading inside like a spotlight and curving against every spot. 

But Choso notices.

Of course, he notices.

He’s noticed every single thing about you, silent and stoic at your footsteps, for years. Always looking. Always admiring from afar—and he knows when you want something. “What else do you wish for, my princess? What else makes your pussy- hngh, feel good?” 

“I want you to h-hit that one spot-” You’re blubbering through your constant tears. Moving your hips just to the side so that his curvaceous fingers were nearing where you wanted him the most. “So close—oh.”

“Never tell me to do anything twice, Your Highness.” He mutters, tone shot. “I’m always at your service.”

And he was.

And he was shovin’ his fingers - almost thickened with how long they’d been inside you - straight against that bundle of your nerves. Against that crevice you’d heard dubbed as your g-spot from that scandalous literature hidden away at the back of the library…

And when Choso had found that particular spot, he was hitting it like a madman—

Once. Twice. Thrice.

The way he’d memorized just where it was and mapped out every single inch of space inside you was dizzying. The way he’d leave a few sultry split-seconds to twirl his bulbous fingertips against your g-spot before reeling back and thud-thud-thudding. “It feels good, right?”

He was back to that familiar mantra and it was sending zaps of power down your spine to realize just how breathy he sounded. Just how smoky. Just how shattered.

Choso was eating you out like he was going crazy with every lick up your weepin’ pussy crevice. Uuuuup and down and fightin’ against his very own fingers to stick the edge of his tongue inside your quivering hole. “It feels so-” You’re gripping onto the strands of his hair stupidly, “So good-” Tears freely flowing down your cheek with just how many times he was mercilessly forcing his way against your sweetest spots. Your most favorite. “So good- so good- sooo good—”

You smack your hips up in a sloppy drag down Choso’s face and he moans. 

“Choso, you’re just the best—”

And that? Those particular words are just about enough to make his red-hot, achingly hard erection pulse once. Twice.

Beading out a silky trickle of cum that darkens his thick pants.

Before he’s frankly quite sure that he might be on the verge of cumming- and such a valiant knight could never cum before his lovely princess, now, could he? Not daring to be so selfish, Choso heightens the pleasure and pressure until his tongue looked like nothing but a strawberry-pink blur lickin’ into every nook and cranny of yours. Slap-slap-slapping down on your clit.

And his fingers were fucking into you so hard- so ruthlessly. Viciously banging your g-spot like a constant bullseye and Choso was an expert at archery. Didn’t you know?

He doesn’t slow down - doesn’t dare to - even once your drenched walls start convulsing around him in a staccato. Even once you open your mouth in a soundless scream.

Even once you start to cum—

And Choso had never smiled wider in his entire life than he does right now with his lips glued to your pussy. Salivating. Tongue strokin’ your clit through every peak of your high- “C-cumming, Choso.” You pant out tearily. “And I can’t seem to stop…”

“You don’t have to.” Right on cue he bangs a roughened thrust just against your g-spot. Leaving you throbbing and aching for more.

And everything ‘more’ that you want - Choso’s more than happy to give.

Your loyal knight elongating your wave of bliss with his slick fingers. The perfect amount of thickness to stretch your walls but also leave you keening at his rapid pace- he pinpoints each tender point of your orgasm and thrashes against your nerves right at that exact moment.

Again.

And again and again.

And again—until your high makes you see white-hot stars behind your closed eyelids. Planting sloppy drags down his face right in synchronization, “Any longer and I don’t believe I shall cum any more, Choso.”

“As long as it feels goooood, princess.” He gurgles out, “Heh, so good that your body can’t cum anymore.”

“I-I don’t believe it works like- fuck.” Lips soiled with tears and saliva. Glazed. Doesn’t matter how much you’re running your voicebox ragged, because Choso doesn’t even slow down- not even when he’s fucked you through your orgasm and letting it taper out into mere tingles.

Shots of power. Vulgar strokes barely even starting to falter as you begin to feel so utterly raw n’ overstimulated. “But Choso, I want…”

“Hmmmm?”

He sounds so gone on your pussy that you know merely asking nicely won’t make Choso latch off. Experimentally, you’re tugging on his sweat-drenched bangs and he doesn’t even budge-

“Choso Kamo.” You’re starting out, struggling to keep your voice steady. And yet at the tone of your voice, Choso flinches as though he already knows- “As your princess, I order you to just fuck me already.”

He takes a few seconds to detach from your pussy.

Pulling away his sticky slick-glazed lips with a superior squeeelch! And Choso stares up at you with dark, half-lidded eyes. “As you wish, Your Highness.” 

His ruined voice sends shivers across every inch of your body.

A body that he’s now plastering his hands onto and all but tearing through your soft layers- like butter underneath his strong hands. He’s ripping your silken gown straight through the middle, “I shall summon the tailor first thing tomorrow morning.” Choso grunts, already reading that expression on your face. “Worry not- your next dress shall be white, my princess.”

“Wh-white…” You breathe out, feeling light-headed at the implication.

Before you know it, all Choso has unhooked your half-corset and left you all exposed for him. For him to ravenously sweep his eyes down. For him to gaze upon every inch of you and gulp- was his mouth watering just at the sight of you naked?

But you’re not left too long to ponder upon the thought before Choso starts shrugging off his gauzy shirt and trousers. He’s letting the buttons pop open—pop! pop! pop! And displaying such a firm chest chiselled with prominent pecs, further down along were naturally ripped abs and the most sensual happy trail.

All dark and slightly unruly where it dips juuuust below his pants hemline.

Choso flattens his thumb against those golden buttons and lets himself spring free- and oh. 

Oh.

You have to bite back a gasp out of sheer manners, though it should be rather obvious that you were ogling him. All about seven or eight inches of him- maybe more. Definitely more.

The cutest blushin’ pink at his tip, growing slightly more pale towards the base.

Glistening shaft. Heavy balls. He’s decorated with more veins than you might’ve imagined from him, and he’s so hard that each time they twitch his erection flinches in mid air. Fuck…Choso’s just so long and rock-hard that his puckered pink tip jumps upwards and smears a swipe of glistening sap across his abs. It glares at you like a smirk, and Choso sleazes out a smile right back. 

Letting his head fall backwards once he gives his long cock a good pump.

“Oh…” He’s swearing underneath his breath, edging in closer on two capped knees. Those meaty thighs of his were just irresistible - all meaty and milky and flexing.

The slight muscles in his legs twitch as he inches closer to you on the bed. Cornering you against the headboard, Chose wields his swollen tip cloooose between your legs- kissin’ your puffy pussylips. Just a single swipe. “Fuck.”

And that’s all it takes for Choso Kamo to break on your pussy.

Head hanging downwards. Long locks covering his face. The entirety of his body fucking lurching- he’s messily creaming down your slit with copious amounts of cum.

Scorchin’ hot and sticking to you like adhesive.

It dribbless between your folds and enters your hole just the sliiiightest bit - already enough to start sploshin’ inside you and make you feel stuffed to the brim. You’re squirming at the unfamiliar sensation—and what does Choso do?

He’s reeling his hips back and rutting against you like a damn animal.

Unable to control himself. Merely pushing his fat cockhead between your pussylips and shoving- he groans at the way he couldn’t even fit the honed point of his very honed tip inside. 

Just sliding lecherously past your pussylips and rubbin’ his veiny shaft down your front. 

The only thing that that’s doing is grazing your clit and driving the man on top of you absolutely wild. He’s huffing through a pout as he looks down, “I want- ngh, I want to make it feel good for you, my princess. But it just won’t seem to fit.” Without much warning, he’s slithering his right hand down and scissoring open your snug hole. “Does this pretty pussy need me to s-stretch her out even more?”

“Oh—maybe.” You blubber out, looking at him through a heady gaze. “Choso…it’s my first time.”

And he knows he should expect it- fuck, he’s been at your side through every second of every day after you’ve come of age. He should already know by now. 

His lips part, “Oh.”

“And I suspect it’s your first time, too?”

“It is…” Choso looks away bashfully, “My apologies, Your Highness, that I’m not experienced enough to perhaps give you the pleasure that you deserve-”

“Cho?”

He immediately shuts himself up, “Mhm?”

But instead of answering- you’re grabbing ahold of one of Choso’s muscular deltoids. It was just so plush and flexed as you moved him beneath you - flipping your positions over until his back hit the decadent mattress. And you’re clamoring on top of his slender hips, only slightly wobbly with the aftermath of your previous high.

All of Choso’s ivory sap dripped down your inner thighs and tried to glue them together. It was a treacly sheen that slid down his rock-hard abs.

And you’re gliding on top of him- draaaagging your swollen pussylips down his veiny shaft. A whimper lets out of your lips as his flared silt catches on your folds, “F-fuck—Cho, the court ladies told me about this particular position called, ahem- riding.”

He’s looking up at you with wide, heart-shaped eyes. 

And your veins bubbled with molten embarrassment and need, “I’m going to ride you now, alright?”

“Yes-”

“Yes…what?”

Choso breaks out into the most sinful grin you think you’ve ever seen on him- “Yes, my liege.”

And that’s all it takes for you to perk your hips up just a lil’ bit and let Choso’s round orifice trace the outer rim of your hole. Just getting your body trained to the size - and even that is enough to make the man beneath you squirm.

To make him blush. To make him gasp.

To make him reach both quivering hands up and dig them into the globes of your ass- he’s jolting as though fighting with himself over letting you take your agonizing pace or humpin’ up into you like an animal.

Crying out—“Please. I need you so f-fucking bad.” 

And you can pinpoint the exact moment that Choso’s husky voice breaks - all because you’re swerving your hips down and taking a gooood three or so inches of his fattened cock. Red-hot. Throbbing all the way deep inside of you.

The stretch was just so incredible that you’re seeing pure white- a primal moan ripping from your throat at the way he molded to your walls. Almost as if he was made for you.

He’s giving his first spurt of milky precum against your velvety channel, it drips down to your entrance and makes you twitch at the sensation.

Choso Kamo was ruining you from the inside and he wasn’t even trying yet.

Yet you’re still gasping- clawing onto his shoulders and then eventually down to his cushion-like pecs. Providing a firm hold for you as you’re trying to keep yourself balanced. Your mind muddled-

“Does- does it feel good yet, my princess?” Almost in the distance, you can hear Choso’s words echoing. They seem to rattle inside your emptied brain right now. “Does- does it- fuuuck—because it feels like heaven to me.”

“Shit, it feels so…” Your jaw drops agape, running out of words. Having him intruding at your innards like this wasn’t necessarily unpleasant- in fact, when he slightly rutted and rubbed against a few particular spots it almost felt unreal…

You’re keeping a firm grip on him and lightly bouncing your hips down - short, sloppy thrusts that give off a slurp! every time.

And Choso was giving off the prettiest little whimper every time you swallowed his solid tip. Just about two or three inches. “F-feels good?” He’s begging. Tears crinkle on the edges of his eyelids, and his lips wobble ever-so-slightly. “Feels good, right? Am I making my princess feel good?”

“So good.” You manage to gasp out. “Shit, I have yet to feel such pleasure with my fingers…”

“Being held at a degree higher than the fingers of my princess—?” He couldn’t believe it himself. And almost as though to confirm, Choso’s reaching over and lifting your dominant hand off of his pectoral. He brings it up to his mouth and gives it a long kiss, “Y-you cannot be serious.” Breathing in, as if to breathe in your essence. “The hands of my princess…”

Your jaw drops as his own does - opening wide enough to slip as few of your fingers inside and suck. “You’re more of a lecher than your innocent demeanour- ngh, lets on.”

“Only for you, Your Highness.”

And with your never-ending vulgar strokes, you’d managed to bully about half of Choso’s erection inside of you. It was a girth thick enough to stretch out hidden nooks n’ crannies inside you that you didn’t even know you had, and the perfect length to already be throbbin’ away by your g-spot…

You swivel your hips lightly enough to let his tip graze your most favorite spot- and you can’t help but fucking shake at the burst of sensations.

He’s hissing at the way you clench, “Oh, please-” Head falling backwards into the pillow in a dizzy haze. “D-does that little…squeeze mean it feels good?”

“Yes-” You gasp, “And it also means I ache for you more.”

Your best friend gulps, “Where?”

And it doesn’t take long for you to maneuver one of his calloused palms off of your hips and down to your stomach. Where it felt like he was so big that you could feel him from the outside—Choso presses down as he sinks in. “Here.” 

That was almost enough to make him cum.

But Choso had already cum earlier - and it wasn’t a matter of not being able to stuff your pussy full all over again. He’s sure he could cream himself dry on your pussy. It was more so the fact that, in order to make up for it, he needed to make you cum at least twice more before finally finishing off himself.

One taste of your cunt clenchin’ around him and he’s feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

Almost subconsciously - body moving before mind - Choso arches off the comforter to probe his blushin’ tip deep inside you. “Shit- you just reached so deep, Cho.”

“Would you like me to take over, Your Highness?” Oh—how he loved the way that title rolled off of his tongue when he fucked you. His lowly body marking out your insides-

And he’d known you for so long by now.

He knew everything about you: every like, every dislike, every tell about your body. And he already knows from the hazy look in your peripherals that you’d been growing tired, thighs twitching any time you tried to messily bounce down on his cock.

Which is why one of Choso’s large hands cup your ass and start to help you fuck back into him- his muscules flexing mouth-wateringly every time he did so. Deeper and deeper. “Come on, my princess.” The hand on your stomach lifts off and glides down your pussy’s slit. Perfectly finding and pressing down on your knobbly clit - so sensitive. “Come on- fuck, let this loyal knight of yours make you feel good.”

“But the thing is…” You whimper out, head dropping down to look at the space between your legs. Like this, the size difference between your puckered hole and Choso’s thick cock. Growing even thicker before your very eyes. “-you’re just so damn big, Choso. Will it even fit?”

“I can make it fit.” He answers readily, as though the answer had already been on the tip of his tongue. For years, actually - all those long nights since becoming your personal knight. With only his hand and the image of you. He knows he’s fucking pathetic. 

But he can’t bring himself to regret a single moment anyway. Because it’s only with that imaginary practice that he’s swervin’ his hips up to yours in slightly circular motions. “I can do anything for you.” 

“Anything?”

He gasps out, “Anything for you, Your Highness.”

With his tongue stuck between his teeth, he’s crossing his brows and focusing on simply sensually fitting his cock inside. Uuuup with that big stretch.

Your head knocks backwards, “Ch-Choso—” Never been stretched like this before. 

And then again with those rovering pushes.

“Choso.”

And again.

“Fuck-”

Choso wasn’t even answering any more - just couldn’t. He had his mind focused solely on one thing, and that was to pump all his generous inches inside you, which might be easier said than done considering how the longer he spent in contact with your pussy…the more pussydrunk he seemed to be becoming.

Until he was all but babbling—gasping, tearing up, fighting against the carnal resistance, holding onto you hard enough to leave nail marks all down your body. He was shovelling his ruddied cockhead with a thwack! against the very bottom of your pussy. 

Bottomed-out. 

You collapse down onto his chiselled chest with a strangled scream, feeling the metaphorical pop! of both your cherries. As well as the squirt of precum emptied out against your cervix-

The last thing you’re feeling before Choso’s leaving your entrance all sore.

Before he’s drilling up into you like a crazed man.

Fucking up into you with honed, deep thrusts - all the way from the globular edge of his shaft and then doooown until your clit scratches on the tufts of black hair at his base. He’s whacking your g-spot and then skidding right down until his puckered tip meets your womb. Rapid. Ravenous.

The bed creaks from the sheer pace of his movements, mingling with the shrill noises that you were letting out yourself. “So this is what it feels like- oh.”

Choso drags his right thumb down your pussy’s slit- that dewy spot of your clit being the perfect target for him to press down on. “This is what it feels like—” There’s such a dreamy quality to his words, languid and slightly slurred. “It feels like absolute heaven j-just-”

“Just?” You look up at your knight when he trails off.

Not expecting him to break out into the most sleazy smile. “Just having my innocence taken by the princess.” He says it in a way that sends shives down your spine - firm and possessive.

And even more possessive was the way that Choso thereafter clings a hold onto your waist and pulls you down to him. His abs shifting underneath you as he presses a kiss to your bitten lips—as he spits a wad of his saliva between them. “Taking the princess’s innocence- the whole kingdom should know that I r-ruined their perfectly innocent princess.” He’s gasping out, lost in the feeling of his entire engorged inches being suctioned by your walls. “That I made her- hah, pussy mine.”

“Choso—” Your eyes blow wide in shock and pleasure.

Because just then the hand teasin’ at your clit decides to jump straight to pinching right there. 

It makes you twitch on top of him.

The pit of your stomach fizzling with something that feels good-

“Oh, but fear not, Your Highness.” He continues as if he isn’t just driving you wild. Ruining your insides with the constant, rhythmic squelching of his large cockhed—pushing and pushing. And pushing. 

Choso stares up at you with a half-lidded gaze - direct eye contact even when he’s craning upwards to bite down on your left nipple. Dark lashes fluttering, “For every part of me is likewise yours.”

“Every part?” You shudder.

“Every part.” In emphasis, his cock throbs furiously inside you. 

Succeeding in swervin’ in each glittering droplet of precum and slick and seed back in. He groans, “And you know you can ride this lowly knight as much as you want- as hard as you want.”

“I…” Your mouth feels as parched as a desert, “I would like that, my knight.”

Leaning slightly back on the bed, he’s letting you take more control. “Ride me- ride me dry, princess.” Just so achingly needy for you that you could almost taste it.

His salted-caramel taste sizzling at the back of your throat- his vanilla scent filling up your every other sense. You could now fit the pace to whatever you liked, “Sh-shit-” To whatever massaging rubs against your bundled nerves. “Shit—it’s almost t-too much. Impossible to believe.”

“Yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it?” Choso’s on board with his hand planted underneath your ass. Using a singular hand, he’s manhandling your hips up and down—up and down. Jerking you almost like a ragdoll down his incredible size, he lets every drop of his drivelling precum get sucked dry by your cute cunt. “Feels good riding your m-most loyal knight? Feels good making such a mess of me—oh?”

“It does.” You’re so stupid on his cock by now that you simply have to confess. “I—fuck, I must be true- it does.”

“Good.” Spittle drools down one edge of his lips. Choso Kamo wanted to be used. 

He wasn’t letting you even bounce your hips away for a mere millisecond- always chasing the back of your pussy with his cockhead. He hisses, “Feels good just- fuck, being fucked by the very man sworn to protect you, hm? Feels good knowing that all those years I’ve wanted this- all this time, I’ve imagined it like some pervert—” Choso casts a glance around the grand room, “All the nights I was here. All the days I spent watching you. Feels good knowing that I would’ve died just for a taste of your sweet cunt, huh?”

Thumb faster n’ faster on your clit.

“Feels good knowing that I shan’t ever in this life, nor any others, even so much as look at another?”

And another one of his rugged hands lifts up from your thighs to cup your cheek - he lets you hold your own chasing your high. Slurping and swallowing his fat cock between your legs intensely, as Choso wipes away a stray tear cascading down your cheek.

“Feels good knowing that you have bewitched me—you and this damn- pretty pussy.”

“Yes-” You’re whimpering out loud enough for it to echo across these four gilded walls. Your mind being a complete mess. “Yes, yes, yes—and I’m gonna…”

“Fuck.”

He’s feeling it before you do once you finally crash into your high.

It’s your second of the night, and just because you’re slightly overstimulated from it doesn’t mean that Choso’s about to slow down. Instead, he’s drilling into you with achingly needy strikes - all vicious pumps against the spot of your nerves, and then nicely sliding down the back of your cervix. Over and over.

A long overarching wave of your orgasm- “Ch-Choso.” One that leaves your body limp and helpless to the way he crushes you against his beating chest. “Need you to cum inside, Choso.”

You’re pleasing up at him in a way that’s irresistible.

“Let your climax at least settle, impatient princess.” He’s lightly chuckling. Increasing his ministrations on your poor clit - only elongating your zaps of pleasure.

Until he seemed to be numbing your body completely with so many sensations, all bubbling through your veins and pouring out in the form of your sweetened slick. “But I want it.” You huff. “What if that was an order?”

“Oh, you really are my spoiled princess. Even after I’ve already given you m-my cock and two orgasms…and my heart.” He’s echoing out in a parched tone. Increasing and increasing the sheer amount of pleasure he was giving you - until it you’re been fucked considerably past the twinges of your high.

Straight into another.

And it seemed to be exactly what Choso was waiting for- before he’s throwing his head back and cumming right in unison with you. “Fuuuuck- take it all.” Words trembling. “Take it all, my dearest princess, take it all from your knight.”

And you can feel him empty it out inside you.

His heavy balls twitching with the looong stripes of sap he was flooding out, they splosh against each of your crevices. Pumped deeper inside with every thrust. The smell of his arousal just twitches something dark and carnal within you- and you’re pushing your face into the crook of his neck. Inhaling that soft vanilla accent.

So in contrast with the pelvis slamming against yours, hard enough that his skin starts to redden. The sheer force of it is enough to make you flinch back - and enough for him to hold onto your body in any way he can and pin you down to his front.

Unable to escape, you can only whine at the way he fucks you through his high. “Oh my…” Your mouth starts to water. No novel or scandal sheet had ever described this before. “Ch-Choso you’re the best.”

And you swear that only makes him cum harder.

So much of it that it begins to trickle out of your hole almost immediately- something that Choso certainly couldn’t have. 

So he swipes his thumb down from your clit and starts swabbin’ those wads back inside.

“I ache for you.” He’s whimpering out, big bulbous tears glimmering on the edges of his lashes. His pink lips jut out into what almost looks like a pout, “My dearest princess, I ache for you-” Followed by the sharp inhale of breath once he grazes over your clit once more. “-so much so that it’s leaking out.”

“I ache for you, too, Choso. So much.” 

“Hah…not as much as I do for you.” As if the petering out of his ribbony white cum had ultimately brought back an inkling of his rationality again. “Though for a lowly knight to be so forward-”

You’re leaning down and wiping away the tears from his handsome cheeks. “Choso…you would never be undeserving of me.” It’s the firm tone that makes him freeze, snapping his head to you with sheeny eyes. “In fact, I could argue that it is I who does not deserve y-”

Choso doesn’t let you finish that sentence.

He’s kissing you long and sound.

And as he smiles against your lips, you decide that you have a long conversation to be had with your father at daybreak.

As heir to the throne.

.

.

.

There is a celebration in the bejeweled chapel that morning.

Though not of a wedding, rather…a coronation.

With the promise of a wedding.

And as you sit upon your velvet throne, the crown jewels balanced heavily on your head and your hands, you feel the folded-up piece of paper tucked away in your locket. Humming.

You catch Choso’s eye, closest amongst the row of knights at attention.

You wink.

He smiles.

Yuji shoots you a thumbs up.

Yaga watches the scene and smiles a slight smile.

Shoko could not have looked more smug.

And Naoya? Though the Zenin family was happy to attend, one such prince was pointedly not invited. Nor would he be claiming any thrones any time soon.

As the ceremony continues, the letter pulses with delight-

“My dearest princess,

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your dearest knight.”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader,

Church bells are a-toll—though not for a royal wedding (though be patient, and we shall see the very same soon)—for it’s a royal coronation!

Her Highness, the princess, both shocked and scandalized the Ton at the Royal Diamond Ball last night by attending to her first dance with none other than…her personal knight. Yes, Sir Choso Kamo was chosen personally by the daring royal to be the gentleman that sweeps her off of her feet (on the dance floor). 

And query any ogling noble at the ball that night, and should they find the time between plucking the flies out of their mouth, then all shall confirm that the young couple was rather…scandalously close. Though keeping to his hands confined to places the Ton would approve of, it was rather evident that the way the princess and her knight looked at each other was ripped straight from a fairy tale. The romance!

And just as any good fairy tale should have an obvious villain, this writer’s insiders claim that Prince Naoya Zenin was certainly not happy with the incident. 

Though you must forgive this dear writer if my memory of such dudgeon royal guests is far from perfect. For I was far too occupied with the later…disappearance of Her Highness.

And most conveniently, her knight, as well.

The princess was most certainly not present as she was dubbed the Diamond of the season, nor would she have been able to keep her eyes (or hand) away from Sir Choso long enough to notice. You read that right, dear reader, the Ton has positively been fanning themselves all morning at the juicy details being whispered down palace halls.

My trusted sources claim that the princess and her knight had been locked up in her royal bed chambers…all night. And though the contents of what they may have gotten up to inside this chamber is all speculation, late-night patrol down the palace halls claim they heard the most…peculiar noises emanating from the princess’s bedroom.

All. Night. Long.

Though, of course, Her Highness’s ultimate return to the ball long past the Diamond announcement is a source of many rumors—this eagle-eyed writer would like to point out something else entirely.

Bite marks. Unsteady gait.

Glowing.

Perhaps all coincidence, of course, that Sir Choso Kamo had donned his knight’s armor and hidden any of his own marks from view. It is undeniable that the princess had been carrying evidence of a knight—my apologies, I meant night well-spent!

And perhaps most damning of all might be the fact that - after a terse discussion with His Majesty, the King, as my sources say - an announcement was made at the very cusp end of the ball.

Of the princess’s coronation as Queen tomorrow, and of Sir Choso Kamo’s induction as King Consort. He shall henceforth and forevermore be known as King Consort Choso Kamo, Duke of Kamo Estate. 

And lastly, of a summer wedding, due on the horizon. (Sources also claim something else due…a bundle of joy perhaps between the young couple.)

But that is enough of speculation—oh, what was that? 

I can hear your cries, gentle reader, I can hear them! Worry not, this writer is yet to forget a single detail of the most succulent gossip from the Ton - I already foresee your queries about what happened to Her Majesty’s secret admirer then.

I believe you shall be delighted to know that my insider tells me that…the very secret admirer you speak of is now King Consort. What a romantic twist to the tale!

Now as Prince Naoya fumes and my readers rejoice, excuse me while I dry my tears and pick out my best summer arrangements for this royal wedding—for you know that this writer must always be on the scene!

We wish the happy royal couple all the best with their preparations!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

A/N. Any guesses on who Lady Whistledown might just be??

Plagiarism not authorized.

[tonycries]

Who Let The Dogs Out?

Synopsis. It’s knotting season and all the hybrids are…in rut.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, HYBRIDS AU, ruts, pheromones, farmer!Shiu cameo, exhíbitíonism, Iactation, MORE bull hybrid!Toji, hibernations, FÉRAL JJK men, slight bréeding, manhandIing, spítting, chokíng, HEADLOCKS, p talking, p sIapping, tentacIes (Geto), slight pIot, arranged marriages (Sukuna), true form!Sukuna, fox hybrid!Gojo (Judy Hopps!reader x Nick!Gojo), DP, creampíes, cumpIay, marathons, REACTIONS, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. HEHEHE- Toji’s a continuation of MILKSHAKE! but can be read alone. Choso’s inspired by this tiktok by theeee gorgeous @/v4mpyrf4e on Tiktok!! Their mind, y’all, their mind >>

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Mr. Shiu’s Farm

Name: Toji Fushiguro

Age: 30’s (approx.)

Hybrid type: Bos taurus

Height: 6’2+

Weight class: 1600kg - 1800kg.

Other notes: Recently subject has found himself mated to a cow hybrid (see page 9 for full report). Currently residing on Mr. Shiu Kong’s farm alongside his mate. Currently in rut.

Shiu’s darkened eyes skim across the page, reading Dr. Shoko’s medical report for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past hour. He’s practically memorized every word and number on it by now, every footnote, every bit of neat typing that blurred into one wall of text except for—

Currently in rut.

—except for that single sentence.

The only one that the hybrid doctor had emboldened. Emphasized.

Toji Fushiguro had dragged you inside the barn the very moment his rut had hit him. The very split-second. And Shiu hadn’t seen his cute lil’ cow hybrid (alright, his favorite) in days…

So, surely, it wouldn’t hurt just to take a little peek?

Just to check up on you, of course! Just to make sure that brute of a bull hadn’t completely mauled you, of course! Seriously- what kind of farmer would Shiu even be if he didn’t care about the health of his most prized cows?

Which is why he’s standing in front of the barn doors at this very moment.

Towering and red. Furious and needy.

His ears burn as they take in the lecherous whines and squelches emanating from inside- and he’s placing one hand against the splintered doors. The other cascading down his toned front and squeezing his hot erection in an attempt to get himself to fucking calm down—

“Took ya long enough to man up.” Toji’s peeking up at the farmer through the gaps of his shaggy black bangs, scarred lips twisting up into the most sleazy smirk. 

Even from here, the farmer could see the way that the bull hybrid had you on all fours. Thighs sheeny with slick and sweat, strands of golden hay sticking to your limbs, twitchin’ every time he was swabbing his bulbous red tip between your pussylips. 

Toji doesn’t stop just because Shiu was watching. 

In fact, the other man only rests his weight further down on your lower half and pins his pelvis against yours. Even deeper. Even harder. Making your poor, trembling self scramble forwards a few inches at the sudden increase of pressure- before Toji’s slapping two palms down on your hips and drag-drag-draaaaagging you back down onto his thick throbbing cock. Like a ragdoll.

Probin’ and probin’ inwards—in and out, in and out. 

Shiu gulps as he catches a wet gush! of creamy sap leak out of your cunt - and he’s wondering whether Toji plans to stop at all.

Without any warning, Toji’s roughened fingertips come down to slam! on top of your slick-glazed folds. So tender and raw. And Shiu’s stepping forwards with his hand reached out- before he’s immediately freezing at the sound of you moaning.

“P-please-” Bucking your hips back in circular gyrations, you’re addicted to the way his puffy veins were snagging and rubbin’ against your g-spot. “Just feels so gooooood, Toji—”

“Shit…” Shiu whispers underneath his breath, eyes widening as he takes in the sight. There was a slight tinge of sweet cream and something woodsy in the air- and he’s wondering if this was what experts meant when they said hybrid pheromones made one lose their mind.

Toji glances over at the other man and scoffs—and without warning, he’s pulling out of your tight hole and flipping you over as if it was nothing. Right onto your back where he can stare at your pretty face whilst he presses his reddened cock between your legs-

Like an animal. 

Rutting and rutting until Toji’s flared mushroom tip somehow bullies inside your cunt with a wettened plop! And looking from here, the size difference was just incredible- Shiu’s stepping even closer, driven crazy wondering just how such a cute, innocent-looking pussy can take such a big cock so filthily.

Without easing in, without even slowing down, Toji pumps his vein-covered shaft past your entrance and in, in, in—

“Naughty girl- heh, don’tcha know that s’rude not to greet guests?” He’s angling his hips so that the circular divot right on top of his shaft scrape-scrapes down your cervix and makes you shiver. “Or are you seriously that fucked stupid, hm?”

“Wh-what are you…” Dazedly, you’re so gone that you barely even register the way that Toji grabs onto the lil’ stubs of horns atop your crown and bodily moves your head to the side.

To where Shiu was standing frozen. Erection raging in his overalls.

You gasp-

“Awww, look.” Toji snickers, cutting you off with a few more vulgar strokes. In almost no time, he’s rendered you speechless- just loooong slobberin’ smooches being pressed up against the back of your pussy. “Your beloved farmer’s here to see ya!” Holding you in place by your horns, he forces you to make eye contact with Shiu while he fucks you. No matter how much you squirm. “What a shame his pretty girlie’s too busy getting fucked dumb on my cock to even notice him…”

“Easy there, bull.” You shudder at the husky baritone of the other man finally speaking up. The scowl on his handsome face. He still has a cigarette pressed between his lips, and the smoky scent clings to him like pheromones. 

“And what about it, human?” Toji sneers right back, the bell ‘round his neck jiggling just a little as he opens your legs even wider. Making slick leak out from your core with a deafening splosh! and glisten right down the bull’s abs. He’s hitting your g-spot incessantly- “Jealous m’getting to fuck this pretty pussy and you can only watch?”

“You little-”

“Or-” The hybrid casually continues, folding you positively in half- until the caps of your knees hit your chest and you can only whine at the incessant stretch of your hamstrings. “-are ya jealous that I get to pump her so full of my cum that she doesn’t even remember your name?”

Shiu spits out his cigarette and stomps it out- fuck, he’s never been harder. “Don’t make me-”

But Toji only claws a hand upwards and squeezes your right tit, making a line of creamy milk dribble out from your swollen nipples. Which he’s leaning down to suckle on while looking Shiu right in the eyes, “Or s’it that you’re jealous she milks so much for me and nothing for you? Jealous that when I fuck her full of my calves she’ll be making even more?” You’re yelping as he bites dooooown on that sensitive nub, smirk palpable on his handsome face. “Jealous that they won’t be your kids?”

“I’ve had enough of this!” Face burning, Shiu’s making to turn around- fuck. And maybe run off to the nearest private corner he can find just so that he can jerk off—

“But I bet it turns you on, too.”

He pales, facing Toji once more. “Wh-what did you just say?”

But the bull hybrid merely graces him with a smug smile as he’s pulling out of your sloppy cunt once more- and oh, was it such a sight to see the way you were yowling and clawing onto Toji’s toned hips in an attempt to get his thick cock to fill you up once more.

He doesn’t listen to a single plea, yet jerks his head towards you cockily.

And the farmer- oh, he might just be the worst of the bunch. Because he doesn’t listen to a single rational thought in his brain telling him to simply leave—not before he’s taking step- by jerky step- towards your two sweaty bodies. As if hypnotized.

Shiu’s knees barely even hit the ground in front of you before Toji’s clasping onto the blushin’ back of his head and shoving the other man’s face between your legs.

Nose-deep.

And he’s shocked- he’s letting his eyes snap open- he’s letting just a singular wad of your candied slick end up on his tastebuds and he’s fucking addicted. Just darting his slick tongue all over just to gulp and gulp up your heady taste.

The prominent line of his nosebridge shoves directly between your swollen, sensitive pussylips and you gasp—“O-oh my god, Shiu you’re really-” Before those gasps turn into pants by the time that Shiu’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs and pulling you deeper onto his face. He hangs open his greedy mouth and engulfs your pussy whole, long tongue startin’ to slither inside-

“Ah ah- has your momma never taught you to share?” Toji’s rudely nudging the other man over and slotting himself between your legs as well. Dipping his even lengthier tongue out to just slide-slide-sliiiide around your wet outer pussy, “Should know that m’doing you a favor.”

“Sh-shut the fuck up-” Shiu didn’t even want to breathe let alone talk to this bull bastard. Fishing the tip of his tongue in and out of your quivering hole - fuck, he has half the mind to giggle at the way you clenched oh-so-cutely around him - while Toji drags your throbbing clit over to suck.

His scarred lips mercilessly pinch your nub, making you writhe and moan. “Oh, get over yourself. One taste and you’re in liplock-”

“I hear you slurring on her pussy as well.” The farmer grumbles out.

And your mate, Toji, is just about to open his mouth to snap back as well- when you clasp both their perspired scalps and press both of them to your treacly pussy. “Sh-shut the fuck up!” They snap their bleary, pussydrunken eyes to you at the sound of your trilling voice. “Can the both of you just focus on- ngh…this instead of arguing?”

And then they look at each other.

“You heard the missus.”

“Anything you say, girlie.”

And it’s the only warning you get before they’re both delving right back in between your puffy pussylips and lavishing you with both tongues- just the most sensual sensation. 

Those ridged textures slipping and sliding over your pussy and deeeeep inside, they thrash against each other and fight for claim over your wet pussy. They fork out your entrance - both at the same time - and Toji moves over to press on your clit while Shiu tries to fuck you with his tastebuds. They lap over each other and makes Toji moan into Shiu’s mouth as well as your cunt—

Well…Shiu thinks, as Toji starts fingering your slippery hole open now with two of his rude digits, murmuring something about ‘two at once’. 

.

.

.

Later - much, much, much later - it’s Kusakabe that calls Shiu’s bull and cow hybrid farm after a few days without hearing from his friend.

“What—that damned bull hybrid giving you trouble again?” The man asks, chortling into the speaker at the other farmer’s pointed silence. “Or is it your pretty cow hybrid? The one you favor so much?”

“Well…” Shiu starts, about to head into the barn once more- he could hear your pretty moans start up already, and he’d be damned if he let that bull have one over him. “You could say they’re giving me more than just trouble…”

What was that saying again?

If you can’t beat ‘em…join ‘em.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - HibernATE.

Name: Nanami Kento

Age: 27

Hybrid type: Ursus arctos horribilis

Height: 7’6+

Weight class: 1000kg+

Other notes: Mated specimen (to a human, for more see…) is currently in the process of hibernation, though stands to be on the brink of waking up soon. It is speculated that due to his age, size, and rut cycle that the specimen will be rather famished after his arousal. Quite, quite famished.

It’d started off as a little rumble in your living room, a little quake.

You’d been lazily browsing some magazine, barely even registering the words that seemed to slug across the page. They muddled up in your mind and took on the form of Nanami Kento - the days were too long with your hybrid husband in hibernation.

Given, it wasn’t that he’d completely disappeared into a deep sleep; hibernation was a period for Nanami to slow his metabolism, to lower his body temperature, to snooze most of the day away.

He wasn’t here to spoil you with breakfast in bed like he usually would, nor was he here to kiss you goodnight, to read to you with his deep tone, to have a hand on your back whenever you were out in public, to fuck you right—

You’re squeezing your thighs together with a slight squirm, “F-fuck…” Setting aside the magazine that was now the furthest thing on your mind. “God, how I miss-”

And then you’re catching the slight movements in your living room.

It started off subtle- the glass of water atop your coffee table was tremoring, the carpet spread out on the floor seemed to be moving. You’re frantically looking around and realizing that the couch you were seated upon was slightly jumping.

Something seemed to be thud-thud-thudding closer—

“My love.” 

It’s a thick, husky tone enough to make every hair upon your body stand on end.

You almost don’t recognize whose voice it is - simply that ruined. You almost start to feel fear creeping down your spine. You almost don’t want to turn around-

“My love, I think m’in rut.”

Less than a few minutes later and you find yourself on the fucking floor beside the couch - your back against the carpet, your legs strung high in the air. Your calves thrown easily over Nanami’s shoulders as the shoves your wet panties to the side and bullies himself in—

No preparation. No foreplay.

Just pure fucking need.

Your thrash against his hovering body and find yourself absolutely, needily helpless-

“O-oh, fuck.” And you never thought you’d see the day where you hear Nanami fucking Kento’s voice crack…Lips quivering as they drop open, eyes damn near bulging out of his skull- he feels his thickened tip lodge at your hot entrance and gasps. “Fuh-fuck, it needs to go in- oh, fuck.”

A single inch inside and he’s spurting out wettened wads of cum- already! It makes the process slightly easier, with the thick glaze of his sap easing up your entrance. 

“You’ve already- oh, ngh.” Just for the words to be fucked out of your lungs. You’re almost stupid on his cock already, feeling your tastebuds sizzle with saliva at the incredible stretch. “You must be sensitive. It’s already going in, Kento-”

“It needs to-”

“But-”

“It needs to go in, it needs to go in, it needs to go in.” But it’s the only thing he can repeat, like a mantra. Like the only sentence his dazed mind knows right now.

You clench and his bear-like ears flinch- making him claw onto your body even further as he plants a rude half-thrust. 

“P-please—” Body hunching into yours. Blond happy trail scratching your clit. A slick line of drool cascades down one corner of Nanami’s lips, long lashes fluttering as he’s starin’ down at your core. “Need it to go in- want it- have to-”

“Have to?” You gasp.

“Have to.” He’s groaning, eyes wild and widened as he’s pumping out half-ruts here and there and stuffing himself deeper by the minute. And at one point Nanami’s tilting his head and gnawing down on the tender side of your neck, “N-need to…”

You’re sure it almost looks like you’ve been thrown to the bears - literally.

He’s not even halfway inside but you swear it feels like he’s opening up various crevices and hidden spots inside you that you never even knew you had—fuck, had he grown larger since before the hibernation? “You’re- hck! Kento, you’re acting like such an-” And the way you say his name makes Nanami’s pupils dilate even further, until there was almost no honey-brown within his eyes. “-a-animal…”

“Am- n-need it to go inside- s’not worth it if I can’t feel myself at your- throat-” Could barely even string together three words to make a sentence. Could barely even breathe if he wasn’t fully inside you. Nanami’s rude tip bulges its way deeeep inside of you, and you can feel him throb-throbbing away at your very lungs. “Don’t let me down, pussy.”

Your eyes widen, “Y-you’re talking to…”

“Don’t tell me you can’t take it all- oh.” His hoarse baritone quivers at the mere thought, “That would just b-break me-”

Back arching into the perfect curvature against the carpeted floor, Nanami’s reeling his toned hips back and just plunging—feeling your body start to squirm away, and one of his paws come up to clasp your neck and draaag you right back down his cock. And he’s never sounded more serious in his entire life, “Don’t. Move.”

“Y-yes, Kento.” You could feel your cunt throb even harder at his words. You recall his words from just earlier. “Think you might just break me first.”

And what you didn’t expect was for that mere answer to make the blond man’s lips quirk up into a smile, for him to scoff out a chuckle. Something looks feral in his gaze, “Yes and?”

Fuck- your gentleman of a husband was never like this.

Usually, he took his sweet time with foreplay. He’d stretch that tight orifice of yours oooooout with his fingers. He’d tease your entrance all tender and ready to take his massive cock- but right now he was pinning apart your thighs with both of his hands and ramming his entire veiny length in.

But now he’d awoken from hibernation and he wanted you—badly.

And he was just so strong - expected, for a bear hybrid - that you were absolutely no match for the way that Nanami choked his hand ‘round your throat and manhandled you down to meet his length. To meet every thrust.

He’d slam his thick girth all the way until your poor, elastic hole was stretched thoroughly around his girth and could take it no more. Letting his cum splosh! around a little before drag-drag-draaaagging his veiny length all the way back out and inching back in again, puffing apart your innards to his swollen length- you start to claw at his muscular forearm and Nanami’s tightening his hold with a growl. “Oh my- please, Kento—”

“Inside-” He snarls, his pure need making his bass sound even more rugged than usual. And every time he speaks, Nanami punctuates it with a ruthless stroke deep inside, “Was thinking about you- all day- All night. All the time. Missed the feeling of this tight hole begging me to fuck her, and when I woke up I was just feeling s-so…” It’s then that the bear hybrid slowly looks down at your pussy, all engorged open with his incredible length. He gulps back saliva, “-hungry.”

And as if it wasn’t enough to have you at his complete and utter mercy, he was now smacking one hand down on your clit and brushin’ his thick thumb down that favorite nub of yours. “Couldn’t stop thinking of her. Couldn’t stop wanting to be inside her. Couldn’t wait to fuck her all full and make her carry my cubs- bet you misssed me, ngh, inside-” He hiccups, “Will this finally make it go inside- Inside, inside- inside.”

You’re bawling your throat hoarse, seeing stars burst behind your closed eyelids. And you distantly feel Nanami lean his head down and lick away the salty tears rolling down your cheeks- his rough tongue utterly parched.

“It’s- it’s already inside-” You gasp at some point, straining your throat to get the words out. Just so full with his thick, throbbing shaft speared inside of you- now, Nanami’s simplest movements left him hammering at your cervix. “Kento s’already inside-”

“Oh?” As if he hadn’t even realized, simply way too gone on you. He looks down at the sinful sight between your legs - your cunt all stuffed and quivering as you struggle to take him - knot awaiting at his base.

Something that you already know doesn’t bode well for you.

He looks at you intensely, “I’ve just come out from hibernation and next- o-oh, y’know what comes next for bears, right, my love?”

You could barely even think right now, “What?”

“Breeding season.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Eight inches hands

Name: Geto Suguru

Age: 28

Hybrid type: Octopus vulgaris

Height: 6’2+

Weight class: Undetermined.

Other notes: Whilst the breeding habits of this particular type of marine hybrid has remained a mystery for quite some time, it seems that this specimen is overtly eager to receive his mate in this state of rut. Faintly sweet pheromones. Strong tentacles (may perhaps take to use them during breeding with human mate, see page…)

“Eight inches—” Geto’s drawling out in his sing-song voice, letting pure lust seep into his words and leave them all hot and heavy against the column of your throat. 

He pumps his puckered tip against your g-spot and snickers, “Eight inches here-” And then once more against the door to your womb, “Eight inches there—” Before he’s biting down on the side of your neck and rutting up into you so hard that you swear you can feel him there. “Eight inches heeeeere-”

It’s enough to leave you shivering in this filthy full nelson that he had you in.

To leave your heart racing at the sound of his mean tone, cunt clenching as if you’ve just been shocked with countless volts of electricity. And of course Geto Suguru notices.

Of course he’s arching a singular brow at the sensation of your clingy walls, of course he’s slowing his hips down to look at you with an expression of mocking surprise. “Oho?” He pants out, nose crinkling at the bridge as he tries to keep his words composed. “What’s that? Are eight inches not enough for you, gorgeous?”

And to emphasize his point a little more, his thiiiick shaft is plunging so deep between your pussylips that you see the pale skin ‘round Geto’s pelvis burn bright red. You were just coming down from your nth high of the night, and even the slightest brushes against your throbbing nerve spots left you keening. His creamy tip swirlin’ the back of your cervix and making it feel like he was right at your throat—

Your eyes snap open in pure shock, breath catching in your throat as you realize just what he’s hinting at. “No! No it’s not-”

“No?” A thrill was snaking down your body- and so were a few of Geto’s looooong, flexible tentacles. They were a shimmering shade slightly lighter than his hair, with slimy tips that wrapped around both of your ankles and wrenched you open.

That was one and two. Three, four, and five slide all down the your quiverin’ sides- a sixth one of his tentacles slide-slide-sliiiiiding up to flick your throbbing clit in punishment. “So no my cock isn’t enough for this slutty pussy?”

“I didn’t mean that-”

Silenced immediately by one of his slimy tentacles spankin’ down on your pussylips, which makes you keen with the sting. To which you hear Geto’s chuckle pant out against the side of your face- god, this full nelson was the perfect position. He could see the way his vein-covered cock was shoveling in and out, he could see everywhere his textured tentacles were gliding down, he could see those lewd expressions you were subconsciously making- “Ah well, what can I do? This pussy’s just tooooo greedy f’me, I just don’t think my poor cock can keep up…”

You’re whining at the pure pout that you could hear in his tone, “But-”

“Oh, wait.” As you’d expected, he’s cutting you off with a higher octave- as though a sudden epiphany had just dawned upon him. And his voice dips down to what’s almost a purr…“I have an idea.”

“Fuh-fuck—” Your spine arches into the perfect curvature as his slick-covered tip slips between your pussylips and starting smearin’ your cunt all open. Those tendrils of his were just so dexterous, and you’re squirming at the slimy texture of him prying apart your most tender parts.

Swirling and swirling in circular motions to tease your hole.

Just the sheer squelching sounds of it was enough to nearly drown out his husky voice, “Eight-” His words quiver as if he was on the verge of chuckling. “E-eight inches-” Punctuating that little phrase with a thorough strike at your sponged cervix, the rounded circumference of him leaving a bruise. “Eight kisses.”

You babble, “Wh-what do you mean eight ki—oh!” Your question’s immediately being answered by a rhythmic thud-thud-thud at the very back of your cunt.

They’re just so distinct. Mentally, you count about-

“Eight- eight, see?” Geto’s humming out, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the back of your sweaty scalp. “Eight kisses at that cute cervix. Did ya count them, gorgeous?” And you notice that he sounds even more breathy than before, you notice that the air’s sweeter- as if Geto was losing his grip on reality with every slight slip n’ slide of his tentacles rovering in past your cunt.

“I-I…” Your mouth waters, spittle drivelling down either side of your lips. 

Seeing this cute expression on your face, he chortles- hell, he cranes his head down to lick at the glittery sap on your face. “Heh- of course ya didn’t count. Too fucked dumb, are ya?” He was just making fun of you, and he was fucking you like he hated you. “But that was eight—whoops!” Another dull skid of his rotund tip leaves you gasping, “Nine now.”

“Oh, please-” Babbling away stupidly- you were feeling pleasure from so many different points that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself. “That’s just not fair.”

“Wait till ya learn about what’s not fair, heh.”

And before you can stupidly say anything more, Geto has all his slithering tentacles cascading down your body. Two still wrenching your jittery legs open no matter how much you kick and thrash, two more holding onto your thighs, two more wrapping around your tits and twiddlin’ with your hardened nipples, and-

“Eight tentacles.” The hybrid rasps out, and at that very moment you’re feeling the final two of his tentacles plunge straight between your pussylips.

Rutting. Squeezing. Bullying and bullying their honed tips inside and fucking you at a rapidfire pace that matches his hips- “Eight inches. Eight kisses—” A few more bashes at your cervix that leaves you dumbfounded, “Eight tentacles, heh- ya really do have such a fuckin’ spoiled pussy, gorgeous. She just keeps wanting me stuffed all deeeep and haaaaard and kissin’ that cute cervix. She can’t get enough of me so she keeps suckin’ me in for more.”

“Oh- oh, please.” You struggle to stare down at where he was positively ruining your pussy from underneath, the curvin’ lines of his tentacles sticking in and out of you at a blurring pace. Starting off slooooow at the tips that wriggle their way inside- before he’s suddenly shoving most of his prolonged lengths in and repeating the sultry motions. “It just feels so good, is that really only two tentacles?”

“Yes—why?” 

“It just f-feels like more-”

“More?” And you instantly know where you’ve made a mistake- Geto’s voice was breathy with excitement. “You want more, gorgeous?”

“That’s not what I…” You’re simply so stunned that you don’t know what to say. Simply so fucked stupid that before you can even think up a response, Geto has two of his tentacles probin’ apart your pussylips—and a third one lifting off of your hips to veer downwards and suction on your clit.

So hard that you’re seeing complete stars—

“Aaaaand look at that-” Geto sighs, “Yer cumming already, gorgeous. Look what happens when you ask for more.”

Begging, you’re  tearing up with the sheer intensity of your orgasm. “Mmm, please-”

“Mmmore?” You couldn’t believe the audacity of this hybrid- and the way he was lifting off his second tentacle from your hips. He now had two of his tendrils sliding inside your entrance, gliding and massaging against his red-hot cock.

And then two more that tugged and teeeeased your poor clit to no end, setting two of his suction cups on top to give you lil’ sparks of your high. They were rolling over circles. Rolling over hearts. Matching the ministrations on your tits. 

Geto made you jolt with even the lightest touches that to your overstimulated body really didn’t feel light. “Seriously- am I the one in rut or are you the one in heat?”

“Maybe both?” You dazedly ask, “I don’t even- hck! know-”

“Can’t think, can you? S’my cock leaving you speechless? My tentacles making you all stupid?” He tuts, almost sympathetic - though you knew that in reality it was far from that. “You wanted to be fucked so baaaaadly by me and now you’re getting it, aren’t ya?” At your gurgling mess of responses, “S’alright, gorgeous, I just need to know your answer to this one question.”

Yet another one of his slimy tendrils lifts off of your body - this time from your tits - to manhandle your head to the side to face him. “Yes- fuck!”

“Clean that mouth out before you speak t’me.”

Before you know it, the tentacle wrapped around your neck slips its slimy tip into your mouth and dangles it wiiiide open for him to spit inside. “There- all better. And now would ya like to hear what my question is?”

And obviously that’s going to pique your interest, even with the pistoning sensation from all angles driving your pussy wild. “And th-that is?”

“What do you think about eight kids?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - HOTEL FUCK-SYLVANIA

Name: Choso Kamo

Age: ??

Hybrid type: Desmodus rotundus

Height: 6’4+

Weight class: 80kg - 90kg.

Other notes: Subject is mated, interestingly it seems that this particular vampire bat hybrid has the ability to replace his appetite for blood with other bodily fluids. Particularly in relation to the bat’s mate, it seems that this ability takes effect twofold during times of rut.

“Don’t take this the wrong way…” Utahime asks, and by the worried expression on her face you know she means well. It’s only when you nod your head in a gesture for her to continue does she finish her sentence- “-but isn’t it, like, scary being with a vampire bat?”

You tilt your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

To which the purple-haired girl looks around the bustling café the two of you were in before continuing with her impromptu interrogation, “Aren’t you scared you’ll wake up one day and he’ll be drinking your blood or something? I don’t know, I’m just a little worried…”

“Choso would never do that.” You’re crinkling your nose in amused distaste, even the thought of your lovely boyfriend doing such a thing is enough to make you want to laugh out loud.

“But how does he fulfill his cravings, though?” She swirls around her drink a little, as if expecting it to turn into said crimson liquid any moment now. “Because I read somewhere that their cravings are quite strong, especially during a…”

“Rut.” You finish for her, “And yeah, I suppose they are- but Choso always satiates his cravings with something else.”

“With what?”

“Um, alternatives.”

“What alternatives?”

Well…

.

.

.

“P-please…” Choso groans, voice trembling at the back of his throat. And the sounds he’s making right between your legs are plain sinful- they almost make you shy to hear. 

Just squelch after solid squelch! being wrung out of your sloppy cunt any time he’s pumping his tongue between your folds. Pistoning in and out, in and out, in and out at a feverish pace. 

And he’s not shy about getting it all filthy with your clingy wads of sap. Letting his ridged tastebuds swirl all ‘round your tender channel a few times, fishing around for those sweet wads of white before gulping them down. Choso was kneeled at your feet and practically worshipping your pussy with his mouth—

“Th-think that’s all there is, baby-” Gasping, your hands claw atop your boyfriend’s scalp. With a feeble push, you’re trying to get his spit-slicked mouth to detach from your cunt. “I think m’done-”

“But I’m not done.” Choso stubbornly says. And even from here you can see the way his pinkish, swollen lips wobble out of pure frustration where they were sucking on your clit- moved past lickin’ up your sweet, sweet juices to toy with your pussy.

And as if on cue, you swear you could hear the rumble of his hungry stomach—bat hybrids always did get extra famished during ruts, the doctor had told you.

She’d also warned you that Choso might just suck your pussy dry if given the chance - and that seemed to be exactly what he was hellbent on doing. With his puckered lips spreading even wider open and pokin’ his tongue away into your hole, he’s slurping up any and every remnant of his own cum from mere minutes ago. 

Your slick glazes all down his chin, creating a shimmery effect that made him look completely gone. “Look- look at her.” Eyes wide, completely crazed. “M’just starving for your pussy, baby—dying. I could eat her out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Arching your cunt against his face with a whine, “S-so you’re just never gonna be full, Choso?”

“Hmmmm…” He pretends to think - or, at least, you think he’s pretending to. But with how utterly ruined he was from your honeyed sap left you wondering whether Choso Kamo was actually serious about brainstorming the answer- taking a single lick at your folds and nodding. “Yeah- never gonna be full, baby.”

“You seriously needed to taste me to get your- hck! answer-” You’re panting, sheer disbelief in your tone. “You can’t be serious, Cho-”

“Dead. Fucking. Serious.”

And then he’s wriggling his crowned muscle back between your pussylips and makes you cry out, “Oh p-please—” Two doughy pads of his fingers pryin’ aside your folds to help him get to where he wanted to taste the most. 

Now he’s fingering you as well as makin’ out hotly with your pussy. Just the cushy edges of his digits searching for your sweetest spots, “S’the sweetest dessert I’ve ever tasted- the most delicious fuckin’ thing. Tastes so good. Tastes so fuckin’ good.” He murmurs wetly between your lips, long lashes fluttering as your velvety walls clench ‘round his tongue. “Always so good f’me trying to suck m-my tongue back in- never met a dessert that wanted to be eaten so badly.”

“Choso!” You’re gasping, “I’ve never heard you speak like this-”

“I’ve never been this hungry.”

But he wasn’t just hungry right now - he was absolutely starving, and eating you out like just so.

Almost experimentally, you’re pushing on Choso’s sweaty scalp and watching as he scrambles to grab onto either side of your thighs and crush himself nose-deep between your folds. “No- no no no no- don’t even joke like that, baby.” All serious. His two fanged canines peek out from underneath his upper lip, and it makes you shudder. His bat-like wings flapping behind him- “Not yet. Please not yet. You can’t seriously expect me to remove myself from your p-pussy when she’s creaming down my tongue like this—?”

“Well, I was just thinking…” You mumble, “Wouldn’t it satiate your thirst more if-”

He nips at your clit with his canines, “More if?”

“If you filled me up again, Cho?”

And then he’s peering up at you with those deep, dark irises of his - giving absolutely away in his expression. Mouth stalled. Spit drivelling. Throat bobbing with a singular gulp—

Before Choso’s on you in an instant- hands at your throat and pinning you down onto the bed, meaty thighs pushing your own apart and letting him lodge his red-hot cockhead-

“F-fuck-” Just a singular smooch at your precious cunt and Choso’s already throwing his head back in ecstasy. Back arching. His wings bolting out straight. He can’t stop himself from dribbling out in pearly beads of white that cling n’ drip down the front of your cunt, smearing it all in a glossy white shade. “Fuck- oh my god-”

“You’ve cum already?” You’re marvelling at the sticky warmth that fills you up from the inside, splatterin’ the bed around you.

Something that Choso quickly takes care of by roverin’ his greedy fingertips down and pressing them inside—in and in and in. In sinful synchronization with the constant thwacks! of his heavy base against your puffy folds, just fucking those webs of seed even deeper. 

His fingers are stretchin’ aside your tight orifice and somehow managing to squeeze in—your eyes damn near bulge out of your skull at the sheer stretch of him fitting in something else. Something you hadn’t even noticed until now - the prominent knot at his base- “Mhm, told you m’ravenous for ya.” It’s a rounded ring of flesh that bullies into your entrance, shutting it tight. “S’like a never-ending feast, I get to eat your pussy out until she doesn’t know what it feels like n-not to have my mouth on her.”

You’re gasping at the feeling of him plugging your hole - feeling that lump at your very throat. “B-but how can you eat me out when you’ve got your knot in for now? Not to mention just how deep you’re fucking your cum in…”

“Ah, no worries, baby~” Choso hums, and his cock twitches inside of you. “It’s more fun that way.”

.

.

.

The next time you’re meeting up with Utahime at your usual lil’ café it’s with Choso in tow.

Hand-in-hand.

Shoulders brushing shoulders in your booth.

Positively glowing after his last satiated rut.

You’d say that the meeting went quite smoothly, to be quite honest. Utahime had gotten over her initial trepidation over his hybrid species, and the conversation was flowing smoothly. 

So smoothly, in fact, that at one point in some dramatic recounting of her last mission- Utahime’s hitting her fork off of the table top. Brushing aside your motions to pick it up, she herself ducks under the table to get that traitorous silver utensil.

Still continuing with her story, “—and then my dear Shoko came up to me and said-”

From above, both you and Choso look at each other in confusion as your friend abruptly stops in the middle of her story.

From below, Utahime felt the soul escape her body the second she accidentally caught a glimpse of your legs, of the short skirt that covered none of the…rabid bite marks littered all across your thighs. She didn’t even have to look too hard to see the way that inched up the inner parts of your legs, closer and closer to…

When she finally resurfaces, the two of you notice that she seemed rather…pale.

You start, “Is everything alri-”

“I think I just figured out what you meant by ‘alternatives’.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Fire-BENDER!

Name: Ryomen Sukuna

Age: Don’t ask.

Hybrid type: Genitive draconis

Height: 9’7+

Weight class: 10000kg - ??

Other notes: It is quite rare to come across a dragon hybrid specimen, and this particular one is an exceptional example of the male dragon. Approaching rut it seems that horns have grown larger, wings have grown stronger, and overall body composition has become much more imposing - all likely in the hopes of seducing his mate, the human (further research see page…)

It must be noted that this particular subject is rather temperamental, and this attitude may pass over to the hormone-fueled rut, as well.

You were arranged to be married to Ryomen Sukuna.

It was not a deal that you had a hand in making, nor one that you had the right to reject.

It was the union between two clans, the marriage between human and myth, the collision of two worlds once thought to be forever separated. And thanks to the ingeniousness of your clan’s elders, it seems that those power-fueled daydreams are now becoming a reality.

And there you were, the scapegoat of it all.

They didn’t care whether you were killed by the infamous King of Hybrids - that had no matter to them, they’d still have the fame of being the first in hundreds of thousands of years to successfully barter a marriage between human and dragon. 

Which might have been why no one showed up to your wedding day.

It was quite the solemn affair, if you do say so yourself. Decent, perhaps, at best. The stiff routine of pledges to one another that should have been romantic passed by you in a blur, until ultimately you were bowing to the pink-haired hybrid before you and realized that you were bowing to your husband. To each other. Husband and wife.

Until you found yourself steeped in the most important tradition of all—the wedding night.

You sat on the farthest corner of a bed far grander than king-sized - fit for a dragon, you supposed. And as you waited for your new husband to do something - anything - you contemplated just what that hulking figure of his might mean for you in bed-

“Before we do anything, should you so wish-” He gruffs out, turned away from you so you didn’t have to see his expression. Though, you could make out the faint dusting of pink at the very tip-tops of his ears, “-you should know something.”

“Yes, anything.” You answer, brows furrowing.

“I’m in rut.”

It comes out so matter-of-fact, and you find yourself speechless for a few seconds.

A few seconds in which Sukuna finds himself exhaling, “Look- I understand if you don’t wish to consummate our marriage tonight, I won’t take fuckin’ offense if-”

“Apologies for interrupting-” Though you didn’t feel a speck of remorse, “-but I was actually about to say that I’m glad for the fact.”

He turns to you with hungry eyes.

You’re taken right then and there on the edge of the expansive bed, the velvety sheets drenched in all your sappy juices. Sukuna smacks! down both his plush, reddened tips between your pussylips (dragon hybrids had two, it seemed) and grins at the way your cunt tries to sluuuurp him up- “Are you sure yer a human, brat?” He’s asking for the nth time this past hour.

“F-for the last time-” You gasp, eyes shuttering shut at the teasin’ feeling of his matching cockheads gliding all down your quivering orifice. “-I-I am—fuck.”

Only for your mouth to fall into such a sultry oh! of pleasure, eyes rolling all the way to the back of your skull once Sukuna engulfs one of his tips inside of your cunt. That curve at the end of his shaft was just delicious, opening up your dewy wet entrance in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Stretchin’ out that adorable hole of yours so wiiiiidely around the dragon’s cockhead that you swear you’re seeing stars—

“And yer soooo fucking sure?” Sukuna scoffs, crimson eyes rolling. “How m’I supposed to know that’s not just that pussy talking, huh, mama?”

Before you can bite out a response, his slick-glazed tip was raaaapidly pumping in and out of your core. Not even waiting for you to get used to the sheer primal stretch, not even waiting for himself to get used to the suctioning sensation of your soaked walls.

Sukuna’s using one tattooed hand of his to hold onto your pretty throat and smack! you back down onto his honed v-line. The ridges of his muscles against your thighs driving you absolutely wild, “Because there’s no way- fuck, takin’ me so well like this…” His bleary eyes lock down at the spread-apart lips of your cunt, the way you spurted out just a bit of gloss with each ram. “You’ve gotta be some type of- of pussy hybrid, or something-”

“P-pussy hybrid?” You gape, and for a moment you’re not sure if you heard him correctly with the way that Sukuna was shovelling his achin’ erection into you so hard that you eardrums pop!

“Mhmmm—” He’s confirming, a primal waver in his voice. You can only watch as the King cups the second of his stacked cocks- whilst one was rudely plummeting in and out of your cunt, the other was being guided by him to knock against your cute asshole. “Tell me the truth, brat- are ya seriously just some fuh-fuck- sort of hybrid sent to ruin me? Maybe a succubus?”

“I’m not a- ngh.” But you’re being cut off by the feeling of his incredible second girth kissin’ your other hole. Just barely stretching out the outer rim before pulling back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll give those cute holes of yours what you want if you give me the- ngh, truth.”

“But I am, I am!” You’re crying out, your spine arching against the soft mattress as he starts striking at your cervix rhythmically. As if he was trying to fuck the answer out of you. As if he was trying to plug up your shattered throat with all his gluey wads of pre.

You reach your hands out to claw at Sukuna’s sculptured deltoids and he groans, “Mhmmmm—that can’t be.” He’s looking down at you seriously, a pink-colored brow raising with a scoff. “How else are ya gonna explain how this is the s-strongest fucking rut of my entire life?”

“I can’t-”

“And what about the way I just can’t- stop- fucking you-” Two of his roughened palms hold onto your waist tight and fill up your geysering orifice, pressing you down onto the plush mattress as he drills into you. 

The pistoning of his hips was rude on your cunt- but utterly teasing against your backside. Simply stretching on your hole with his flared tip, “The way I can’t stop listening to wh-whatever this pussy wants- fuck, and the king never bows to anyone.” Sukuna scowls, entire face furrowing into an expression you couldn’t differentiate between fury and ecstasy. “The way I can’t stop fucking you- fuck. The way I know m’gonna me dreaming of this pussy tonight and the night after, and the night after. The way—” He puffs out a heaving breath, smoke curdling out of him. “-the way I think m’gonna fucking die if I stopped fucking her- you’ve got me hypnotized. You’ve got me addicted. You must be some- some succubus hybrid. Some pussy hybrid-”

“I’m just human.” You’re blatantly replying, and you squeeze your slurping walls in emphasis-

Only for that single act to nearly break Ryomen Sukuna.

He damn near collapses on top of you, with his sweaty forehead pressed into the crook of your neck. “Y-you lie.”

“I do not-”

“How else are ya gonna explain how I c-can’t even-” Even as he says it, Sukuna’s scaly wings flinch and flutter open. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him was just too fucking good- “-control my fucking pheromones anymore?”

As the saturation of spiced wine grows stronger in the air, your lungs attempt to gulp the addictive scent down. “M’seriously just a human-”

“And you’re trying to tell me that the King of Hybrids has fallen before a mere human?”

You open your mouth to answer—but your new husband’s merely shutting you up with a vulgar few pumps that leave you gasping for air. Your eyes shuttering as he thrusts you into a high in absolutely no time.

One you didn’t even expect.

One you didn’t even know was coming.

One so strong that it makes his crimson wings snap! open and tremble sensitively at the squeezing of your cunt.

The white-hot pleasure rips through your body and leaves you whining, mouth falling agape. “Oh- oh my god, you’re such a—” Without warning, you clamor a hold onto Sukuna’s red horns- gripping onto it for dear life as the orgasm bubbles in your veins. “-fuck, keep going, Kuna.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

And you don’t know who’s more surprised by the response that falls out of Sukuna’s mouth - your or him. 

But almost as if to make you forget just what he’d said, he’s roverin’ his puckered tip down the side of your walls- easily locating your g-spot and ruuuuubbing down that particular area with his veiny shaft. “Y-your ears did not hear that.” He rasps out, something seething in his tone. And before you know it, his second dribblin’ tip eases its way through your second hole - both swollen cocks massaging your channels in one go. So big that you could almost feel them rub against one another- “If I g-give you both, you did not hear a thing, brat.”

Still trembling from your last high, you mime zipping your lips shut. “Didn’t hear a thing.”

“That’s my wife—”

.

.

.

After your honeymoon was over - a trip through the serene countryside, as organized by Sukuna who willed that a proper honeymoon was only befitting for a marriage that had been less than planned from your end - you were met with a surprise once you arrived back home to the Sukuna Estate.

Your attendants had informed you that you had guests waiting in the meeting hall. And who you might have assumed to be your friends, or perhaps your parents, had been none other than…your clan’s council.

Here to check whether the King of Hybrids had left you alive until now, you presume. Though not out of concern for your health.

They glanced over you and straightened immediately at the sight of Sukuna following just behind.

And while you hear your husband’s tail swish in annoyance behind you, you’re raising your hand to him as a gesture that you could handle it. Because, of course, you could handle it.

“My dear-” You’re starting off, barely looking in the direction of the elderly men seated in the room before you. “-would you mind letting the house staff know to prepare some tea for our ah- guests?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

How you relished in the look on their faces.

♡ INO TAKUMA - Hop to it!

Name: Ino Takuma

Age: 21

Hybrid type: Oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus

Height: 5’10+

Weight class: 75kg - 85kg.

Other notes: Unmated however seems to express interest in a companion close to him (human?) Even for a rabbit hybrid, subject seems rather…exciteable in relation to his rut. Healthy pheromones, above-average stamina, exceptional desire to breed.

“A-am I pregnant yet, pretty?” Ino somehow manages to babble through his teeth, barely even audible through the constant wrecked moans and the bubbles of spit that just keep on leaking out of his mouth.

At least…until you’re swervin’ your gummy cunt back down his length and it makes Ino throw his head back with a whine. Just the prettiest noises you’ve ever heard, it’s enough to make your pussy throb a few more times before you’re speeding up your pace down his slender hips.

Watching as the bunny hybrid below you squirms n’ whimpers with each gyration, “P-please-” He gasps out wetly through his tears, and you feel both of Ino’s hands come up to plaster upon either side of your hips. Cute nose twitching, “Please, I need to get- ngh, I don’t think it even works like that but…”

“Oh, Taku—” You’re cooing out fondly- and the mere sound of your voice was enough to make his bulbous tip empty out a few more wads of cum. “I don’t think it works like that, baby. I don’t think you can get pregnant-”

“But how do we know if we don’t try—?” He insists- and you swear his adorably bush-like tail must be quivering by now. He’s just so pussydrunk right now that logic wasn’t even an existing concept in his brain right now.

His rut had him completely stupid. Your pussy had him completely stupid.

All creamy and soaked with how many times he’s emptied his balls out into you by now. 

And as if to prove his nonsensical point, Ino’s lifting you slightly - just slightly, he couldn’t possibly handle anything more - off of his achin’ hot cock. It makes your entrance leak out in the webs of Ino’s high, so much of it streaming down your inner thighs and making the man below you gulp at the display.

You certainly couldn’t forget that rabbit hybrids might cum fast—real fast, but they sure did have the stamina to last all night. Especially Ino.

Almost as if he was hypnotized, he’s reaching a hand up and thumbing along the mess that he himself had made. Pushing just a few of those creamy white dollops inside of you, mouth gaped and awestruck at the sheer amount of volume that’d been stuffed in your cunt. “S-see?” He breathily whispers, more to himself than anything. And Ino had such long, silken ears the same chestnut shade as his hair - they raise in alertness as they look between your glistening folds. “See- there’s just soooo much, sweetness, ngh- s-surely at least one drop of this s’gonna end up with me pregnant?”

“Oh, Taku—ngh.” Back arching as his hips start funnelling upwards into yours.

Providing your greedy cunt with so many inches- Ino was just the perfect thickness. Not too slender so that his flared edges hit each one of your tender spots, not too thick so that he didn’t have to wait for you to get used to the size before fucking you hard- fast-

“S-see how much I’ve filled you up?” He’s gurgling out, his nose twitching with keen interest. “See how much of my cum is dribblin’ out? I keep fucking it inside and it’s still- ngh, coming out-” Pleading with you. Begging to you. The air grows even more saturated with his sweet sunflower-like scent, “So s-surely…don’t tell me we can’t, pretty. I’ve cum inside you so much that I feel pregnant—”

You have to stifle a giggle - he was just too cute. “Baby, it won’t end up with you pregnant-” Enough to make his entirely pretty face become crestfallen, long ears drooping with sadness. Aw, it was just too cute. “-but it might just get me pregnant, if that’s what you want…”

“Y-you?”

Nodding, “So hop to it- if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And it only takes a split-second for him to brighten back up like a Christmas tree - ears upright, eyes shining with interest, the reddened tip of his cock jolting once, twice, thrice—

“So it’s you that gets pregnant- it’s your pretty pussy that I get to fill up until she- hah, can’t take anymore.”

Before he’s thumpin’ it straight against the back of your womb and cumming with a wet squelch! Again. The noise rings in both your eardrums and makes Ino groan at the realization that he was filling you up again-

“Oh- oh, I’ve…” His spit-slicked lips fall open, and a blush grows even stronger on the tips of Ino’s ears. “I’ve cum again- that must be a sign of good luck, right, pretty?” Urging his hips up even higher, “A sign that you’re gonna give me the cutest son?”

You’re shivering at the sultry sensation that you don’t think you’d ever get used to, “Y-yes, baby—”

“Baby—oh.” And you could practically see his dark pupils take on the form of hearts at the very sound of you calling him that. Though- in Ino’s pussydrunken brain, it’s registering as something else entirely. Whispering, “We’re gonna have a baby- m’gonna fuck a baby into you.”

“You’re so- mmm, insatiable.” You gasp, placing each of your palms atop his pecs to balance yourself as you start roverin’ your hips back down.

And you might think that meant he would be happy about the way you start to bounce down his toned pelvis- you might that meant he would be happy to see you trying to fuck his gluey white wads even deeper. But no—Ino takes one look at the way you were bouncing out sultry figure-eights on his erection, and he’s immediately tightening his hold on your hips.

He doesn’t care if he’s leaving nail marks on your poor skin for daaaaays- “N-no, don’t do that, sweetness.” Gritting through his clenched teeth, Ino pins your hips down whilst he bucks his ravenous hips into yours. Taking control now, he pecks and glides his puckered tip against your cervix- “Like you said, I’m s’pposd to be the one fucking you pregnant- me. So let me feed this pretty cunt my cum, m’kay? She must be so tired from r-riding me by now…”

“But I like it, Taku—” You’re insisting, and yet you still let him slam his parched tip inside your every tight orifice like he was addicted to the feeling - and he was. 

He couldn’t last even a single second without slide-slide-sliding along your g-spot, the curved edge of his cockhead swabbin’ into every crevice and making the ivory mess inside you splash about. His pinkish lower lip juts out in a pout, “Well you can’t do that when you’re all round n’ glowing n’ pregnant- m’kay? S’gonna tire you and the baby-”

“Oh, I see…” You can’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips.

And Ino can’t stop the way he’s fervently nodding, “S’my duty, m’kay? M’your mate now-” Before you can register a single thing, he leans over and gnaws down on the side of your neck. “-so you hafta let me do all the w-work to get you pregnant okay?”

“Yes, Taku, ngh.” Dazedly nodding, “And what do I do until then, hm?”

He thinks for just a few sultry seconds, before his ears twitch with the idea—“Pull on my ears, pretty, s’gonna make me cum even faster.”

.

.

.

And the next time that Ino’s heading to Dr. Shoko Ieri’s clinic, it’s with you hand-in-hand. And she doesn’t quite need a check-up to diagnose what that rounded belly of yours meant.

“Congratulations.” She’s droning out, and you glimpse her thin brown brows raising behind her clipboard. “You’re pregnant.”

And before you two can celebrate, she deadpans.

“You might want to sit down to hear just how many you’re pregnant with.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Cuffin’ season.

Name: Gojo Satoru

Age: 28

Hybrid type: Vulpes vulpes

Height: 6’5+

Weight class: Got offended when asked.

Other notes: Unmated subject, particularly prideful in his ability to woo though remains at odds with the object of his affections (interestingly, a rabbit hybrid—for more on the dynamic see page 2). Warned against displaying rut symptoms due to the sheer intensity.

Exceptional coat. Exceptional looks. Also note that subject is an exceptional pain in the ass.

“Felony tax evasion.”

The fox hybrid’s face drops at the words that escape your mouth- so infuriatingly handsome, he looked better when he was taken by surprise instead of insulting you.

As a new patrol officer, you’d been assigned to investigate this particular fox hybrid in Tokyo, known for swindling people out of their hard-earned money. And you’d found him, of course - you just didn’t think that he’d be so attractive.

It’d taken six minutes of him flirting with you to realize that you were a cop.

“$200 a day, 365 days a year since you were twelve- that’s two seconds, so times 20 which is $1,460,000 owed in taxes—I think.” You’re reciting those numbers off of the top of your brain, as if it was absolutely nothing. And the more you spoke the more flabbergasted the man before you looked- oh, how it made you smile. “I mean, I really am just a dumb bunny - but we are good at multiplying.”

“H-hey now-” Gojo rasps out, looking down at the cutesy police officer that he was slowly but surely learning not to underestimate. “-let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. In my defense, I’m in rut!”

“Ruts don’t make you commit tax evasion.”

“…”

…”

“You got me there.”

“And according to your tax forms, you reported- oh! Zero.” You falsely gasp, flipping through your clipboard. Before looking up at Gojo with a bat of your lashes, hands reaching for the cuffs on your belt. “Unfortunately, lying on a federal form is an offense punishable with up to five years in jail.”

“Aw, c’mon!” He seethes, “What’s a man gotta do to make a dishonest living ‘round here-” Though at your deadpan look he shuts up, “Fine- what’s something else that’ll get you to let me off easy, sweetheart?”

“Let you off easy?” You question, slightly leaning backwards.

And his eyes sweep down every corner and curve of your body, “Yeah- let me off easy.”

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuck—” Gojo’s breathing out into the crook of your neck, nostrils flaring as he drinks in the saturated scent of your pheromones - so fuckin’ sweet that he can feel his mouth start to water at the idea of simply taking a bite.

Shaking his head free of that particular day dream, he shovels his reddened cock into you with such explosive fervour. “Fuck, this is the perfect pussy. This is the perfect lil’ cunt to suck me up- ngh, are all bunnies this cute when they fuck- or s’it just you, sweetheart?” Just thud after thud! of his rotund tip.

It was the perfect curvature to leave your toes curling, and your teeth gritting at the rhythmic pleasure. You’re looking over your shoulder at the fox and struggling to keep your voice steady, “Just sh-shut up and fuck me, Toru.”

“Mmm, s’what I’m doing, silly bunny.” He rolls his eyes, knees digging even deeper into the cushion of your backseat. “And shit—” You’re clenching instinctually around him and you can feel his entire sculptured body behind you shiver- “-shit it just feels so fucking good.”

“God, I don’t know how but you’re hitting all the right spots.” You’re whimpering, feeling his glazed tip satisfy carnal itches within you that you didn’t even know you had. He was just so big that he was easily rub-rub-rubbing his swollen cockhead over your g-spot, and then thrusting right in to massage you with his prominent veins.

“Heh, you’re welcome.”

It’d taken mere seconds to drag you to your police car and bend you over in the back - mere seconds.

And mere split-seconds for Gojo to take a niiiice long look at the globes of your ass and decide he wants to give your ass cheeks a good squeeze. And decide to grab onto the fluffy tuft of your tail and pull you to him—“H-hey! Where’d you think you’re pulling-”

“Your tail, duh.” He’s unapologetically replying, “Honestly- I can’t tell if you really are just a dumb bunny or m’just fucking you dumb.”

“You’re too f-full of yourself.” You scoff.

“Too f-f-f-full of myself?” Gojo dramatically whines, quite a few octaves higher than what you actually sounded like. And as if he’s irritating you on purpose (he most definitely is) he’s tuggin’ on your sensitive tail once more and letting his cock’s hilt spank your drivelling hole. “Actually- I think it’s you who’s full of me, sweetheart.”

Your jaw drops at the sheer audacity of him, “K-keep talking and that won’t be the case any longer-”

“Oh, so I’m gonna be full of you—?” He’s cooing out, and you’re not sure whether these were the fox hybrid’s genuine pussydrunken babbles- or he was simply driving you wild. And succeeding. “You’d be the first to peg me, you slutty bunny, but I wouldn’t be ngh- opposed-”

“God, do you ever just shut up-” You’re bursting out, followed almost immediately by an elongated keen shattering from your throat. It was at that very moment that Gojo had decided to lurch his hips backwards and sloppily smooch at your throbbing g-spot, so hard that your entire body goes limp.

His fox-like ears twitch in the direction of your lecherous sounds, as if he was committing them to memory. “It seems neither you nor this pussy can…h-heh.” As if on cue, the background noise of your cunt seems to increase in volume. 

And Gojo’s feeling his ruby-red tip twitch at the lecherous noise, like he couldn’t get enough of it. He’s rutting and rutting and rutting until his swollen shaft is feeling all red and raw- until he shakes with the phantom shivers of your walls clenchin’ all around him and he still wants more. “And I can’t help it- just can’t fuckin’ help it.” He’s the one falling apart on your gooey wet walls, and yet you’re the one being teased. “Just love chattin’ with this pretty pussy- you’ve got such a sweet pussy, bunny, she loves me too m-”

“Satoru, if you don’t shut up then m’banning you from this.”

“Please no, ma’am.”

“Then do it.”

He swishes his tail in excitement, “And what you want me to do is—?”

“Fuck me properl- oh!”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. 

Because within mere moments, Gojo has his hand tightened around the puffy part of your tail and disrespectfully hauls you down to meet his hips. As if you were nothing but a ragdoll, he targets a few hits to your cervix that leave you bawling from both pairs of lips.

“Dangerous thing to ask a fox.”

Blinking back the tears in your eyes, “Wh-what do you-”

“Don’tcha know what you just asked, lil’ bunny?” Gojo questions, and it’s in a strangely…quieter tone of his voice. One that felt more primal. One that sent shivers down your spine.

When you’re not answering quickly enough for him, he’s slithering his second hand down to tease between your pussylips. That softened index and thumb pinching your clit until you’re seeing stars, “Don’tcha know what sly, cunning foxes do to c-cute lil’ bunnies like you?”

“Wh-what-” Even though you damn well knew- you were swerving your hips down onto his plump cockhead like you were addicted to the stretch of him in your deepest insides.

“Foxes eat bunnies like you.”

You shiver, and Gojo’s increasing the pace of his veiny shaft pummeling inside of you. He’s striking your spongy cervix one-two-three times a single second, he’s twisting his fingertips over your clit. He’s hauling you straight back down onto him using your tail—and acting as if he wasn’t just driving you maddened.

“And espeeeeecially for a fox in rut- oh, you’re just lucky I don’t wreck this pussy until she doesn’t remember anything but the feeling of my cock- ngh. M’one of the good foxes, see?” Dollops of Gojo’s saliva strike the arch of your spine- and you’re realizing with a jolt that he was drooling at the feeling of sloppily gliding his length between your pussylips. “You’re lucky I haven’t carved my name out into the back of your cervix…yet.” Dangerously, his puckered tip throbs at the very back of your pussy. “Fucking lucky I don’t shut you up by filling you up with so much of my cum that you feel it at your throat.”

“F-fuck-” You try to lurch fowards on instinct, and Gojo casually manhandles you down as though it was nothing. Hand still gripped firmly ‘round your tail-

“Don’t make me pull on those ears, too, bunny.” He’s hissing, hips growing just as slopping as his slurring was. Gojo flicks his fingers on your clit and you almost don’t hear his next few words, “Fuckin’ lucky I don’t- mmm, breed you until you hafta carry around a child with my name- hey.”

“What now-” You bite back at his sudden change of tone at the end.

“If I did knot you—” And you swear you feel the slowly-thickening hilt of his cock pulsate readily against your pussylips, “-d’you think we’d make foxes or rabbits, heh?” 

“Shit, are you pussydrunk-”

Gojo fucks that shocked impression clean off of your face, feeling the slightest twinges of something sizzling at the pit of his stomach. “Just kidding—!” Muddying his mind. Making him actually think of certain possibilities as he pumped you full of milky white- “Unless…”

And then you’re both stumbling into your high.

Your taking you over in a startled flash, Gojo’s making him shake and quiver and quiver and gnaw down on the damned inside of his cheek to stop himself from gnawing down on you-

“Fuck-” The fox hybrid streams out a slew of sweears underneath his breath, blue eyes clenching as he rides out the blissful waves on your cunt. It was making his toned body shake, it was making him hold onto your cute body like a lifeline as he emptied out his swollen balls into your cunt.

You were just so damn soft around him that it felt as though you were molding to each of his sensitive twitches. Your velvety walls fluttering around him as Gojo fucks you through both of your highs, “How’s it feel- being fucked by the bad fox- hah, having him cum inside you?”

Toes curling at the white-hot pleasure of your own high, it ran through  you like electricity. “So good—I feel so f-full inside.”

“Mmm, shit.” He marvels at the way that only makes his overworked divot start streaming out in even more gooey wads of cum. It fills you up until it’s overspilling, and Gojo’s blushin’ tip can only endlessly swab those gluey ribbons into your tiniest of orifices. “Fuck fuck fuck- bunny, we really might just make ngh- the cutest kids ever.”

“Please-” You gasp, your hips reaching a feverish point simply papping! down onto his. You’re turning your teary face over your shoulder to look at him, “Please- w-won’t be able to do that if you don’t knot me, Toru…”

And oh, fuck—

Gojo Satoru thinks he could’ve creamed all over again right then and there.

Gojo Satoru thinks he just does when - with a rough few thrusts -  he somehow manages to sink his incredible girth inside. All the way till the hilt. All the way till the rounded swelling of his base manages to bully inside- stretching your cunt out so wiiiiiide that all you can do is let out muffled mewls.

You gasp once his knot finally plops! inside- hot and thick and throbbing inside of you. You squirm, “Fuck- fuck, s’too fucking big. I should arrest you just for this.”

“Oh yeah-” And to your surprise, Gojo simply responds by letting go of your tail (finally!) to duck a hand down onto the carpeted floor and bring up his discarded button-up. Fishing for something in his front pocket-

Your jaw drops once he shows you an official police badge.

“Gojo Satoru, undercover agent, at your service, bunny.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - RIDE ‘EM, COWGIRL!

Name: Higuruma Hiromi

Age: 30’s (approx.)

Hybrid type: Equus caballus

Height: 6’6+

Weight class: 900kg - 1000kg.

Other notes: Sleek coat. Intelligent. The mature type. Subject has revealed that he has not been having regular ruts, with the last one being over ten years ago and yielded with no mate. Likely obstructions of stress, hormonal imbalances, and pure chance. Symptoms of upcoming rut persist. 

It must be noted that, even for a horse hybrid, the specimen is rather…well-endowed. And considering the fact that the subject’s mate is of the human type (with no prior experience in horse hybrid ruts)—further investigation must be conducted as to the procedures during the upcoming rut period.

It had started slow at first.

It had started without Higuruma even realizing.

He’d simply come back home from his law firm one day, exceptionally tired with no particular reason as to why. Somewhat feverish. Somewhat out-of-breath. It couldn’t have been the extra cases he was taking on (Higuruma had trudged through even higher workloads than this before, relatively this was a piece of cake), it couldn’t have been any illness (he visited the doctor, of course, and she’d said that there was absolutely nothing to worry about). But Higuruma had been worrying far too much that he hadn’t even had the time to flip through his medical report as thoroughly as he might have liked.

And it’s only because of you—“Hiromi, have you read through this?” Asking him in that sweet voice of yours one night. With his medical report propped open and your lips slightly parted as you swept your eyes through it.

To which he’d absent-mindedly looked up from one of his law books - Higuruma had dismissed himself from work early today, for the first time in his life. Though he was determined to get himself back in the office by tomorrow- that burning heat underneath his skin be damned. “Pardon, my angel? I don’t believe I have.”

“Well, you might want to open up another book then.” You’re grinning at his visible confusion, “A book of baby names.”

You’ve never seen the stoic man so stunned, gulping. On the verge of being ruined. “E-excuse me?”

“You’re experiencing pre-rut, Hiromi.”

It’s less than two hours later when your husband has you splayed out across his chiselled front, sweat-slicked abs moving and massaging against your back at a fervent pace as he fucked you from underneath. Such a filthy full nelson.

Your drivelling maw agape. Your legs spread wiiiide open. Your pussylips being funnelled with his thickened, throbbing inches from behind—he barely even has to try to give you particularly rough thrusts that make your mouth water.

It was the only position in which Higuruma’s absolutely massive length could fit inside you - the perks of having a horse hybrid as a husband, you guessed. And while you weren’t used to Higuruma’s entire size on a normal day, attempting to take him during his rut?

Oh, you were hopeful.

One look at his furious erection, and you knew that you won’t be making it out of this alive. He was much, much larger than usual - with his blushin’ tip almost doubling in size whenever he pumped himself viciously inside, with his girth looking almost engorged right before he was tunneling himself in. Red-hot. Veins pumping.

Higuruma was just so damn hard right now that you swear you can taste the creamy, salted-caramel flavor of his precum welling up at your throat—and you whine as he’s pulling out.

“Oh, fuck-” He’s whispering gruffly into the crook of your neck, with the edges of his canines grazing down your soft throat. Now, you knew that Higuruma wasn’t exactly the predatory type- but it still made a carnal part of you shiver to feel him leer down at your pulsating pussy. “Fuck, you don’t know how hah- how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this.”

Your eyes widen, “You- you have?”

“Mhmm—not that I wouldn’t fuck you right even w-without my rut.” Murmuring- almost as if to prove his point, his rounded tip ends up lodged at your cervix with a wet thwack! “I would. I did. But with this I get to…mmmm, fill your cunt up until she remembers my name and nothing more. I get to smack at her pretty lips whenever she talks back.” Right on time, the tight curve of his ballsack ends up slamming against your treacly front. “I get to watch myself go in and out, iiiiiin and out- fuckin’ lucky that you have a horse hybrid for a husband, sugar, I get to see when exactly m’kissing that cute cervix of yours.”

“P-please-”

And one of his wide hands cascades down the front of your core, with his palm splayed out right above your womb. Higuruma was just so damn big that his thick, cylindrical cock was outlining a damn tummy bulge on top of your womb. “See- there. Mwah.”

One hit bruising your gooey pussy.

“And there again.”

Two hits.

“And again.”

Three hits.

He continues through a raspy groan, “And th-that’s not all…”

Before you can question that little sentence of his, his rude palm glides over where the globular edge of his cock was chasing your cervix. And Higuruma wastes no time squeezing his doughy palm doooown on that lil’ bump (well, not quite little…).

“-I get to fuck you like I disrespect you, my angel.”

“Oh my-” You don’t even have the words. The coherent trains of thought. With either of your feet planted flatly on the bed, you’re jerking your limbs up and attempting to move—whether back down onto him or away, you’re not quite sure. “Holy fuck, I didn’t know that you could fuck like this-”

“Ah ah-” And before you can even register it, Higuruma loops one arm ‘round your waist and draaaags you right back down onto his hilt. Feeling the scruffy trail of his hairs tickle the back of your cunt, feeling him press his bulbous tip against the  back of your pussy and bruise—“-n’ just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean you can- ngh, run away.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“Good.” Higuruma’s cutting you off with his stern tone, striking your gooey pussy so hard that you see damn stars- “Keep it that way then.”

And then you can’t move, you can’t even squirm.

He had one hand wrapped around your body, and the other flicking at your throbbing clit. The crowned edges of your husband’s fingers tease all down your slobbery slit, squeezing between your pussylips and pinching your cute clit. 

And no matter how much you’re jolting in his arms, you’re completely at his mercy.

Because not only is Higuruma ploughing into you like an utter madman, he’s holding you down to him. He’s holding you hostage on his cock that even breathing means you can feel him plunging straight into your lungs. “Isn’t it greeeeeat? You know exactly when m’getting into that womb of yours- see- see, giddy up, girl, you can see it. Heh…you’re shaking, angel.”

He’s tightening both hands on your body so that sparks of white-hot pleasure rush across your body and make you mewl—

“What did I say?” He draaaaags on your throbbing clit until you cry out, ramming faster and faster and faster. An incredible pace, three direct strikes to your g-spot and your cervix per second. “Don’t run. Simple as that.”

“B-but-” You’re reaching blindly above your head- somewhere beyond you to hold onto for dear life. But the only thing your greedy fingertips manage to grab onto are the sweat-stained locks of Higuruma’s hair. It seems even that’d grown longer during the transformation of his rut, silky and flowing. “-but then what am I even supposed to do-”

“Why, that should be obvious-” He breathes, scorching hot from somewhere behind you. “-all you have to do…”

You’re yelping as he bucks his hips just a little higher, further splaying you out helplessly on his lap. On his swollen cock. On his honed thrusts. 

Higuruma furrows his dark brows as the hand restraining your restless body slides down your front and presses pointedly on your cylindrical outline. “All you have to do is wait until I can fuck this cute bump—” Making you whine on the way he massages that spot, sending pleasure bubbling twofold at your voice. “-into a bump tha’s even bigger, hm?”

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

He was going to fuck that particular spot at your channel - your womb - until he’d fucked a baby into you. A baby bump is what he meant. Perhaps it’s this realization, perhaps it’s simply the way he increases his cadence, but you’re hurtled into your high and Higuruma fucks you right through it-

Mouth agape.

Toes curling.

A kaleidoscope of tears formulating behind your eyelids as he hits each peak precisely- somehow pinpointing each tender patch of nerves with his flared tip. “Mmm—” As you keep on riding your wave of bliss on his slick-glazed length, he feels himself empty out in wadded pre. Puddled out way deeply into the back of your cervix- “-I might hafta call out of work tomorrow…”

.

.

.

The questions hit you the instant you’re stepping into the office.

Well, given that it wasn’t your office so the questions were bound to come had they not known you - but more so because of the fact that everyone here already knew you.

Higuruma Hiromi’s wife.

The boss’s wife.

They crowd around you with concerned expressions - and you couldn’t blame them. Had you not been the one to let Higuruma know of his little ah- condition, then you would have been worried as to why your workaholic husband wasn’t at work, either.

The queries are thrown at you—

“Oh my god, he’s dead-”

“He’s not dead, he’s likely sick-”

“The Higuruma Hiromi I know would be at work even on his death bed.”

“Maybe he got caught up in a really tough case-”

“Is he really okay, ma’am?”

“Calm yourselves, calm yourselves.” You’re placating your husband’s coworkers and employees with an open smile.

All you’d come here for was to drop off the letter of your husband’s temporary leave- though he’d begged and begged for you to stay. Though, to be quite honest, you think if he had his way then you wouldn’t ever be able to leave the house.

But you did - no matter how much trouble you had…walking.

You answer them, “Hiromi is alright, you could say he’s just a little bit ah- out of sorts, at the moment.” Before anyone can rush to any tragic conclusions, “He’ll just be taking a much-needed break for a few days before coming back better than ever, I promise!” 

There’s a sigh of relief, before-

You think to yourself, “Oh, but he might need some considerable time off in the future.”

“Time off?” One fresh intern squeaked out amongst the burst of whispers, “I-I mean- we obviously would love for our boss to have some for himself! But what sort of time off, ma’am?”

“Ah-” You smile, “Paternity leave.”

A/N. HYBRIDSSSSSSSSSSSSS- Canva broke down like twice while making this.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[tonycries]

Teenage Dirtbag - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso Kamo: Itadori Yuji’s older brother, drummer to the Löded Diper, that touch-starved punk-rocker that’s been absolutely obsessed with you. You: nothing less than queen bee on campus, leader of The Plastics, about to show that loser that he totally can’t sIeep sit with you! …Maybe.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!popular!reader, punk!Choso, Regina George x Rodrick Heffley AU, college AU, Itadori family shenanigans, wingmanning, Mean Girls references (like a lot), slight crackfic, he’s SO down bad for you, píning, parties, pússydrúnk Choso, face-sítting, oraI (fem rec.), first times (him), fíngering, spítting chokíng, Choso with piercings, D piercings, ROUGH S, he goes FÉRAL, making it fit, síze k, manhandIing, matíng presses, creampíes, slight cúmplay, confessions, getting together, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 14.0k

A/N. Hehehe am I late…

Choso sighs, “Isn’t she amazing…?”

“She just looked at you and giggled? She just whispered about it to her friends and now they’re all staring? She’s walking away without even looking back?”

“I know- she’s more than amazing.”

Yuji looks at his older brother. Then he looks at you. He looks at his older brother. Then he looks at you- and the next time he’s setting his sights on the dark-haired man, Yuji sort of feels like slamming his face into his bowl of mushy peas.

He squints at your disappearing back, “Right…” If this is what the college experience was about then put this college at the bottom of his safety schools.

But listen! It’s not like he’d ever speak bad about his big brother - this was his cool, calm, collected brother after all (at least he was supposed to be). And so Yuji’s pushing the bulk of his skepticism aside, and turning back to Choso.

“So when are you gonna ask her out, bubba?”

“A-ask her out—?!”

Choso Kamo’s voice cracks on the mere words, at the mere notion—and Yuji can only ogle him in utter bewilderment. Oh…my god…?

Alright so not calm or cool or collected.

Fuck, he was so far gone that it almost looked painful.

He’s never seen his big brother’s eyes shine like that before - whether in excitement (at the delusion) or in panic (at the reality) he couldn’t quite tell. He’s never seen his big brother’s face burst into a blush so strong that it makes him wince. He’s never seen his big brother turn his toned frame away and start muttering - more to himself than anything.

“Why would you even suggest that? Why would you want me to- heheh…ask her out? Why did you know that’s been my biggest dream since freshman year? Why did you think that I could ever possibly manage to-” And then he’s gasping in realization.

And in a split-second - so fast that the poor pink-haired boy could never have seen it coming - Choso’s whirling around to grab him from either side of his shoulders. “Unless- unless you saw something between us that I didn’t!” He exclaims, shaking Yuji with every word. “Unless you believe that I actually have a chance and you want me to go for it before it’s too late?!”

Yuji’s jaw drops, “I uh…huh?”

“But of course!” Choso was on a roll now, jostling the boy back and forth even harder. “In dad’s nighttime k-dramas the two romantic leads never really know when they like each other—but of course!” People in the cafeteria were starting to stare now. “I’m the male lead and you saw something in her eyes that made you want me to confess! Before either I get hit by a truck and get amnesia or she gets married off to some faraway 6’7 CEO-”

“CEO? What the f-”

“So what was it you saw?” Abruptly stopping his shaking now, Choso leans in with widened eyes. He probes at his younger brother with eager questions, “What was it you saw in her eyes? Hidden longing? Desire? Betrayal? Lu-”

“M-maybe?” God, he was feeling dizzy now and those peas weren’t helping…“Webster’s Dictionary did say that betrayal could be a synonym for disgust. I think.”

To which Choso pauses - still with that same insanely hopeful expression stiff on his face. And Yuji thinks that he might just’ve have broken him when-

“Oh, it’s no use—” He almost thinks he prefers the ramblings of a madman, rather than the dramatic way that Choso’s throwing himself over his space on the cafeteria table. Head in his hands. Shoulders shaking with a sigh.

The metal trays they’d been provided with rattle ever-so-slightly at his ministrations, and Yuji has to be the one to nudge them to the side. Mouthing out apologies to the students around them that throw them dirty looks—honestly, this was supposed to be his tour of his older brother’s college campus before he attended. He was supposed to be the one being taken care of during this pivotal time of his life.

Which (to Choso’s credit) had been what ended up happening for most of the day: through all those labs and lecture halls and facilities he’d been led to by him, through all those professors that Choso made him speak about his future major with, through most of lunch where his brother kept on insisting that he take more until…you came along.

Almost as if thinking of the very same thing (you), Choso’s sniffling even louder. And Yuji’s gingerly patting at the AC/DC t-shirt on his back, “There there…it’ll be alright, bubba. Wait- if you’re the male lead then who am I?”

Choso sputters out, “I don’t know? Homosexual supporting cast? I don’t know anything-” Pathetically bemoaning, “I can’t even do anything-”

Yuji insists gingerly, “I’m sure if you just asked her-”

“No you don’t get it, Yuji.” He finally raises his head from his hands, silver lip ring twinklin’ in the light. His older brother brings a ringed hand up to twist at it - in just the way he did whenever he got nervous about something. “She’s part of The Plastics- the leader, actually. And those other two? Utahime and Shoko.”

It seems that you and your duo of friends had been stopped by a few more of your acquaintances just outside the cafeteria. And as you laughed and talked amongst yourselves, Yuji and Choso leaned over in their seats to catch more glimpses of you.

He points subtly at the brown-haired girl with eyebags and a…scalpel close by you. “Ieri Shoko’s one of the smartest girls you will ever meet. Eso sat next to her in Anatomy 101 last semester, and he said she cheated so well that the professor changed their marking scheme.” Then as Choso moves the tip of his digit, so do Yuji’s eyes onto another girl with a scar across her face and an arm thrown over your shoulder. “That one with the traditional dress? That’s Iori Utahime, she’s totally rich because her dad invented the Toaster Strudel. Utahime knows everybody’s business, everything about everyone- that’s why her hair is so big…it’s full of secrets.”

Yuji stifles a giggle, “And ah- the one you’re obsessed with?”

“Shhhh- not so loud!” As if he hadn’t just been causing a scene earlier. Choso just has to take one look at you before he’s repeating your name in the most dreamy manner, “-perfection takes human form in her.”

“Perfection?”

“Don’t be fooled. Because she may seem like your typical selfless, smart, gorgeous sweetheart but in reality…she’s so much more than that.” Choso sighs, “How do I even begin to describe her?”

“I don’t get it, we have popular kids in our high school too?” Yuji asks. Hell, if they were counting like that then he wasn’t doing too bad socially himself.

But Choso’s fervently shaking his head. In an instant, he’s getting up and dragging Yuji away from his mushy peas. Ignoring his whines- “Come with me.”

They all said your name.

“She’s flawless.”

“She has two Fendi purses and a silver Lexus.”

“I hear her hair’s insured for ten thousand dollars.”

“I hear she does car commercials in Shibuya.”

“One time, she met Jacob Elordi on a plane. And he told her she was pretty.”

“One time she punched me in the face. I liked it.”

And by the end of his (second) tour around campus (and his first tour around the gossip mill), Itadori Yuji could…somewhat understand where his older brother was coming from. In addition to being liked so much, you were somewhat…scary.

He feels himself shiver involuntarily as you pass him by, not seeing the two tall boys hidden beneath a large oak tree on campus. Watching you. Though, Shoko does- and glints her scalpel threateningly at them until they duck back behind the scraggly trunk.

“But still-” Yuji hisses at Choso, crouched against the flares of green grass. “-I don’t see why you can’t at least give it one try to ask her out? I thought you weren’t scared of anything, bubba.”

“And then there’s that problem-” Handsome face suddenly hardening, Choso checks whether the coast is clear for Shoko and her scalpel before gesturing at his younger brother to follow. Popping their heads from the side of the oak trunk once more, he’s pointing an index at the other man you’d walked up to. 

The tip of his finger - all chipped with black nail polish - honed in like an arrow at the silver haired man. Yuji watched as he grabbed you to his side with a guffaw, where you wrinkled your nose at the way he crinkled your blouse- but let him do as he pleased anyway. “That two-toned, two-inch bastard- Naoya Zenin.”

“From the Zenin Corporations?” Yuji gawked.

“The Zenin Corporations, and he goes ‘round acting like it too.” Choso grumbles, lightly thumping his fist against the tree. “His family’s old old money, but word is they’re gonna be charged with embezzlement soon, heh. He started dating her at the start of freshman year- no idea how that happened, some say he bribed her with a GMC Hummer and they’ve been on and off ever since.”

“Wild.” The pink-haired boy whistles- inadvertently catching the attention of you. Turning away boredly from a lecture on Naoya’s latest business ventures to catch the two tufts of hair peaking through the oak trunk. You have to stifle a laugh as they duck out of sight with matching yelps.

“Something amusing about wining and dining the CEO of the World Bank, honey?” Naoya leers out, and you know he doesn’t mean that pet name he uses.

“Nothing amusing at all, actually.” You’re plastering a painful plastic smile, and he doesn’t catch the snipe. You’re angling your head to try and catch a glimpse ‘round the trunk, at those doey brown eyes that caught yours. “Tell me all about your ah- glorious old money again.”

“Why most certainly.”

You’re rolling your eyes, and you don’t catch the way that Shoko threatens her scalpel in the direction of the oak once more.

Yuji - who’d been craning upwards to take another look - hastily sits back down on the ground with a thump. “Bubba, we’ve got to do something about her though. The Itadori men don’t just sit around doing nothing in a time of crises-”

“Do what though?” Choso puts his face in his hands, long chestnut hair falling around his face. Obscuring his pout from view, though one could hear it. “It’s hopeless-”

“No.”

Choso looks up in surprise.

At Yuji’s determined face, that smile. Brighter than the sun. 

He pulls a handheld camera from Choso’s backpack and takes a picture of them both, you in the background. Blissfully unaware. “I’ve got a plan.”

.

.

.

PHASE ONE OF WIMP: Everybody needs to know.

“There are four phases, the first is-” Yuji whispers, face pressed against the cold library shelf. Textbooks the size of his head. Names of authors that blurred into one. A wall of words that he’d shuffled aside to spy on the other side of it, “-we first have to get the word out about our WIMP.”

“WIMP?” Choso hisses back in confusion. He was standing right beside his younger brother, stooped down to look through their little crack.

A nearly-empty table.

A column of books.

A certain purple-haired girl rarely seen without leaving your side.

“Yeah?” Itadori answers, “Wingmanning Itadori’s Mythical Party- or WIMP for short.”

Choso can only look at him in pure aghast.

“Anyways, going back to our WIMP-”

“Yuji, stop trying to make WIMP happen. It’s not going to happen.”

“About our party then.” To which the pink-haired boy waves off easily, “Don’t sweat it- dad is out on some bonding trip with Uncle Kuna and grandpa, so they won’t be back until tomorrow so we have the house alllll to ourselves.”

It was true that their home actually sat on the outskirts of campus, right alongside the other dorms and residential buildings for the students. It was actually one of the reasons that Choso had chosen this particular university in the first place, because of its proximity (and it led him to you so, good thinking on his part, hm?) And so he still resided there with his family, but as for throwing a party…“Yuji, parties really aren’t a big deal in college. I don’t know if it’s even a good-”

“Do you wanna do this or not?” He pulls away to give Choso a deadpan look, the sharp edges of the books embedding vertical lines on his face. 

The other man stammers, “W-well…”

“Let me rephrase-” Yuji says, “-do you want her in your house-”

“Yes.”

“And there you go.”

Choso sputters, face flushing at the fact that he’d been caught out so easily. He scratches behind his neck and looks anywhere but into his brother’s mischievous eyes, “W-well! You’ve clearly been spending too much time with Sukuna…and what about the fact that we have a house and apparently the word- but still no actual- party-”

“Semantics, semantics.” And to Choso Kamo’s complete and utter horror- he’s pulling out his camera to take a picture of their stakeout. He’s starting to push off the bookshelf and walk away.

Reaching out a hand, “Wait- wait, Yuji!”

Right up to the corner of the shelf, he grins. “First we’ve got to get the word out.” 

And before Choso can do anything about it, Yuji’s pranced right up to the long student desk. Making a few of them look up at his sudden, yellow-hoodied intrusion- he’s clapping a hand over his forehead and bemoaning. “Oh, woe is me! Woe is me!” Choso’s clapping a hand over his forehead, too, though for a much different reason. He thinks he’s having an aneurysm. “Oh, I seem to have gotten myself a little lost…”

Trailing off, he peeks at Utahime out of the corner of his eye - and finds her completely unphased. 

It was as if she didn’t even hear his display, and flicked casually through a glossy athletics magazine that’d been stuffed between the pages of her textbook.

Choso watches as he starts up again, slightly louder this time- “My poor, innocent high school self- all alone in this big, bad campus. All abandoned. If only I had a good samaritan to guide me back…” He peeks at Utahime again and she doesn’t even flinch—and what the- was that a textbook on children’s education she was reading?!

“Oh, how I wish a future teacher—” Yuji lets the words ring in the air, shooing away another student that’d come over to help him. “-could maybe get some practical work in and help me…a poor, poor high school student who doesn’t know of the big world…” 

Utahime looks up at him—this was his chance!

And Yuji’s brightening up- before he registers she was looking right past him and at the clock that’d been ticking away on the wall behind him. The two brothers come to the realization at the same time and they bite back groans.

Goddammit! “How I wish I had someone to help me lest they wanted me to miss my brother’s party- tonight. Yes, a party tonight. A partyyyyy—” Emphasizing his words; his initial idea had been to strike up a conversation with Utahime as she (with her heart of gold) helped his poor lost self, and to naturally weave in the idea of the party and perhaps invite her and her friends as a thank you. 

But now, Utahime (with her heart of thorns) was pleasantly ignoring him to pack her bag and leave. 

Though, he was catching the attention of almost everyone else in this part of the library. Wondering just who the kid was and why the hell he couldn’t shut up—“He doesn’t even go here!”

Yuji sighs, “Free beer.”

“Oh, are you lost?” Utahime asks with a warm smile.

“What the-” Choso squawks, but ultimately gnaws down on the inside of his cheek to shut himself up before she hears. He watches Utahime get up from her seat and sling her back over her shoulder, leading an allegedly lost Itadori Yuji out of the library (the exit was two shelves away but she didn’t seem to question it).

From here, he can hear snatches of their fading conversation - Utahime inquiring about this party, Yuji responding in kind. He rattles off their address that she makes him text her, along with an invite extended to her friends. She says she has two best friends who would just love to come. “You’re Choso’s brother, aren’t you? I saw you two in the cafeteria today, yeah, my friend would tooootally love to come- just don’t tell her boyfriend.”

Yuji tilts his head in slight confusion.

Choso notices that his brother also greatly exaggerates about the beer (which, obviously, the high-schooler wouldn’t be able to drink) and some DJ they’re flying in, but he doesn’t quite have it in himself to feel anything but cautious excitement right now.

You.

You, you, you.

Yuji throws a thumbs up behind his back.

Pulling out his camera and starting to coax Utahime into a selfie picture or two.

Choso’s lifting off of the shelf with a chuckle - he can’t believe it worked. He can’t believe it actually worked! In both shock and slight relief, he’s taking a few steps back—now that he thinks about it, how did it even work-

Before he’s crashing into someone.

“Oh, fuck- I’m so sor-”

“You’re alright, baby.”

That voice.

Choso whirls around so fast that he feels the world tilt. Choso whirls around so fast that he feels his tall figure sway. That he’s chasing the sound of your voice- and he doesn’t even care if he looks a fool doing it.

Though he’s sure it shows, if the way you’re giggling at his action is anything to go by.

Slightly fluttering your lashes, “Something the matter?” You ask, with a smile.

“N-no…”

“Mhm.” And then you lean in—so close that he could kiss you. 

One of your hands reaches past him, almost caging him against the book shelf. And Choso’s plastering his back against their hair columns- face burning, hands pressing to his toned sides, pink lips quivering with greed. His eyes dip down to those lips of yours that just kept on getting closer…“Wh-what you are-”

“I got what I need.” In the corner of his peripheral vision, he sees you lift off a hefty textbook from the shelf. Past his figure. 

Where your hand had actually been reaching - and Choso feels his heart drop down to his stomach when you neatly distance yourself with the book. That very same slightly-dangerous smile still on your face, “As for you, have fun with your…” Your eyes drift to the gap between two books he’d created, a peephole. Narrowing, though your smile only widens. “-spying. Bye now!”

“W-wait-” Choso’s voice only comes out once you’d left, “Wait I wasn’t-”

.

.

.

PHASE TWO OF WIMP: Break her up with her boyfriend—yeah yeah, Choso’s bored!

Nobody in the lecture hall seemed to question why a high-schooler was sitting and swinging his feet happily amongst them. Nobody in the lecture hall seemed to question why there was a sudden flurry of texts and whispers more prominent than usual, either.

A palpable excitement in the air.

And Choso doesn’t think that Professor Yaga was paid enough to notice nor care.

It seems that telling Utahime first about the party was the smart move. Because before Choso had even stepped foot outside the library (moving on autopilot after that lil’ encounter from you), the news had trickled down from her and to almost the entire department. He was immediately being thrown looks left and right- hell, even a clap on his shoulder by some frat dude he didn’t know congratulating him on ‘finally throwing a rager’. 

He didn’t say he was throwing a rager…nor that he was inviting them…but alright…

Even now, a few of the students around him would nudge each other and not-so-subtly point. Giving him a few glances. Dropping each other the pin of his address. Whispering about how ‘that quiet punk’ kid was throwing a party. Which honestly would’ve been completely tolerable had it not been for the fact that he was drawing attention from the row before him. Think that’s not too bad? Think again-

Choso takes just one glance at the row below—and feels his heart jump to his throat as he recognizes the beautiful back of your head.

He’s spent so many long hours studying it, you couldn’t fault him for immediately knowing…

But it didn’t matter if he knew or not.

It didn’t matter how close he was.

It was you, along with a few of your friends that’d managed to register to the class in time (though, it’s not like you were lacking for willing volunteers). Along with your boyfriend beside you. 

Choso’s only able to look from behind.

Always an invisible wall between you two, invisible galaxies in every inch. Even that conversation he had with you in the library had ended in misunderstandings and distance. Oh…his heart ached, he hung his head low.

Your worlds would simply never cross—

“Haibara Yu, an invite for you.”

“Ah! Why thank you, Itadori-kun.”

“Anytime, my dude.” Yuji replies, eyes glimmering with stars. 

Choso snaps his head to Yuji in utter astonishment as he leans down and prods the man with the bowl cut in front of him - one of your closest friends, Haibara. And here Itadori Yuji was - speaking to him as if it was absolutely nothing—doesn’t he know that you! Were! Right! There! The pink-haired boy seated next to him hands Haibara an impromptu invitation (really, a scrap of paper ripped off of…Choso’s lyrics book with their address written down). 

Chuckling at the cutely childish action, Haibara fist bumps Yuji. “I’ll be there, and say thank you to your brother for me.”

“Oh- he’s right here.” Yuji stabs a thumb to the seat beside him, which Choso looked as if he was trying to sink into. And when Haibara gives him a friendly smile and wave, Choso can only reciprocate with a jerky nod of his own.

And then Choso’s attention gets caught by the way that Yuji reaches deep into his hoodie pocket. Pulling out several more crumpled scraps of paper- how the hell did he have so many? And what the hell was Choso supposed to write songs on now?!

He places his head in his hands and grumbles, “Yuji…”

But Yuji simply continues, “Nanami Kento two for you-” His brother was now throwing the invitations at their unsuspecting recipients, the blond man catches it with a disgruntled scoff. “Ijichi Kiyotaka—four for you Ijichi Kiyotaka, you go Ijichi Kiyotaka!” A bespectacled man catches it with a yelp that catches Yaga’s attention (and his disregard). And then Choso’s heart catches in his throat as Yuji sing-songs out your name, gently handing you your own scrap of paper.

His scrap of written-over…lyrical…paper.

The scrap of paper that Choso had written songs about you on-

“Aw, you wrote my name on it and everything?” You’re cooing at the boy, beginning to unfold the invitation. It was a palimpsest of words, and your eyes go down the slightly-blurred lines of faint writing beneath Yuji’s blocky letters. It was cursive, slanted, with a sweetly messy impression so that you couldn’t make out half the words on it. Just your name. Over and over. “That’s so sweet! Um, you wrote my name…like…a lot-”

“No!”

Before you can read any further, the pierced man behind you reaches over and snatches the paper out of your hands. In a split-second, he has it crumpled up and stuffed deeeep into his bag where no mortal soul would see it ever again.

What follows next might be the most awkward few seconds of silence in his entire life.

Yuji looks at him. Yaga looks at him. Your friends look at him. You look at him-

“Um, why are you so obsessed with me?”

And he can’t even say anything in response because it’s fucking true—!

Yuji takes a picture of the scene.

It’s only Naoya who - seeming to not have noticed a single thing amiss - raises his index in the air and punctuates it with his annoying, grating voice. “Um-”

“And none for Naoya Zenin, bye!” Yuji stuffs the rest of the scraps inside his hoodie.

“Excuuuuuuse me-”

Choso blocks out the tirade of threats that Naoya then proceeds to spit their way, his black-tipped hair flying askew in all angles as he starts arguing with the younger boy. The previous tension between you and Choso left unsettled (not good tension, certainly, no matter what Yuji may think), you’re resigning yourself to lean back in your seat and let Naoya throw his arm over your. Jostled by him. Sighing at the fact that you were jostled by him. “Naoya, let it go-”

And oh—it makes Choso fucking angry to see you still with this asswipe. 

But fuck—does it almost make him smile seeing that look on your face. 

Only getting more bored with every word falling from Naoya’s lips. Only barely putting up with him. A fleck of angry spittle falls from your (hopefully soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend’s mouth, and you’re meeting Choso’s eyes in the middle as you follow it. 

Both of you grimace in disgust.

Next to him, Yuji nudges at his ribs- a victory for Phase Two! He almost wants to laugh.

Yaga drones, “Mister Kamo, would you mind letting the class hear your thoughts on the subject of Caesar and Brutus at hand?” It seems he’d gotten enough of the ruckus in the back rows.

Choso stands, clearing his throat. “What’s so great about Caesar? Hm? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar. Brutus is just as smart as Caesar. People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar. And when did it become okay for one person to try and claim everything, huh? Because that’s not what Rome is about.” He looks straight at Naoya, “We should totally just stab Caesar!”

.

.

.

PHASE THREE OF WIMP: Ask her (to the party, if not out)!

“Bubba-”

“No-”

“C’mon bubba-”

“No-”

Yuji’s throwing his hands up in defeat, letting Choso’s own fall from his grasp. His wrists were all red n’ raw from all the pulling- even after the younger of the two brothers had seemingly given up on bodily draaagging Choso halfway down the campus gardens.

Right to you.

And honestly, Choso should be thankful that his brother’s such a fervent advocate for him getting his shit together and actually talking to the girl of his dreams.

But you’re just meters away, so beautifully oblivious.

And he can’t help but feel his knees weaken—“B-but what am I even going to say to her-”

“For starters, you can apologize for the way you snatched her invitation out of her hand.” Yuji’s saying - so very practically that it almost hurt. Was this really the same kid who’d run after him crying when he first left for college? “And then you can invite her to the WIMP-”

“I said stop trying to-”

“I got it, I got it!” Yuji puffs out his cheeks in a pout, “Man, you really know how to squirm your way out of important conversations- but you won’t be squirming your way out of this!”

Before he knows it, Choso’s being rounded by his younger brother- who then slams both palms against the others shoulders and starts shoving him in your direction. You were talking to someone, with your back turned to him and your air one of complete ease.

And here two Itadori brothers came to shatter it.

“You- won’t- be- getting out of this one, bubba-” Yuji forces out between pushes, and with every time Choso struggled against it, his throws only got even harder. “Talk- to- her-”

“And- and say what-”

“I don’t know- I’ve never asked anyone out before?”

“Fuck!”

With a final profane exclamation, Choso’s shoved right at your footsteps- and you’re turning around at the commotion. Raising your brows at the man that was bent so low before you, that he could practically look up your skirt if he wanted to.

You take a step back, “Um…”

“F-fuck-” He seemed to be saying that a lot today, and he stands upright instantly. Rubbing at the back of his flushed neck, Choso tries looking anywhere but in your eyes—where the fuck did Yuji disappear to?! “Anyways um…nice weather we’re having, huh?”

“Right…” You look up, there was a rain cloud formulating above you. There was a 30% chance that it’s already raining.

Your company - some business major by the name of Mei Mei, he believes, throws her single long braid over her shoulder - “Ooo la la~ Guess I should leave you two alone then, hm?” Waving just the tips of her fingers at you, “Toodles~!”

“Buh-byeee, again- I love your hair!” You’re calling out with the sweetest smile.

“Thank you~!”

And only once Mei Mei was well and fully not in earshot do you turn back to Choso and deadpan, “That is the ugliest fucking hairstyle I’ve ever seen.” 

He hides a laugh behind his fist, “I-it certainly is eccentric…” Well, he’d be lying if he said he never secretly thought the same.

You tilt your head, his contagious smile making your own lips slightly quirk. In this dimming light, you could see the dimples by the corners of his lips- “And so? I don’t suppose you’re here to hear my tastes in hairstyles, are you?”

“I-I wouldn’t mind.” He coughs underneath his breath, self-consciously thinking to his own cutesy space-buns. He’s seen you staring at them a few times before…at least his imagination liked to think you did. He’s almost glad he wore them down today, “But ah- but no, you’re right. First of all, I came to apologize.” 

Before you can say anything else, he’s bowing before you.

Sharp and sincere.

He couldn’t see the expression on your face like this- and so Choso scrunches his eyes and spits out the words. “I apologize for how rude I was during the lecture earlier, it- it’s completely my fault and I shouldn’t have snatched the invitation out of your hands. It was just…”

“Personal?” You ask, and he’s whipping his head up to catch your warm smile. “I get it. Your secret’s safe with me.” Before thinking about it a little more, “And Utahime…and Shoko. Maybe Ijichi-”

His pinkish mouth gapes, “A-and the…”

“My name?” Teasingly, you pretend to think. “I didn’t see a thing. My name? What name?”

Beside himself, he begins to laugh- “And I uh- there’s also…” He’s only slightly leaning up from his bow now, fists clenching upon either side as if tries not to lose his nerve. And Choso might just have- had it not been for the flailing body of his brother.

Just a little distance away, Yuji dances about and gestures at Choso to keep talking. Shaping out hearts with his arms. Mouthing a little ‘go on’. Puckering his lips and making kissy faces—

You notice the way his gaze strays past you and start to turn-

But Choso’s grabbing your hand in a panic- stopping you from moving- making you turn around in slight surprise. “I uh!” And he feels…he feels so much. The heat of your hand thrumming in his own. The zaps of electricity as your eyes meet his. The adoration at just how beautiful you were in this light. Somehow, some way, the shy man manages out. “I wanted to…to invite you personally to the WI- I mean, the party.” 

He winces, waiting for your rejection.

Only-

“I’d love to!”

In the distance Yuji’s camera runs out of battery with how many times he’s flashing away pictures.

Choso’s on cloud nine all the way back home, he doesn’t think his feet even touch the pavement. Yuji gives him a good, hard smack on the back in congratulations as they get on Choso’s bike—“Wow, maybe you’re not a hopeless case after all, bubba!” 

Choso rides a little faster that day.

.

.

.

PHASE FOUR OF WIMP: DON’T BE A WIMP!

It honestly hadn’t taken them too long to turn Itadori Jin’s home into the habitat of a college party. It was already big enough, and it had a pool out in the back and a rooftop to climb. All they needed to add were a few key components: booze, beats, onion rings.

Most of it was ordered with their uncle’s credit card…

He’d asked his Löded Diper members to join him for a gig later in the night. And Yuji had begged his friends to help them with the decorating and set-up on account that they could join the (alcohol-free, to them) party afterwards.

Meanwhile Choso had paced their living room so many times that he thinks his footsteps were seared into the carpet - some excuse of a cool big brother he was. He’d damn near twisted off his lip piercing with the way he’d been nervously toying with it- it’d taken Yuji and Nobara dragging him off to get a bit more dolled-up for him to stop.

And so here he was.

Dressed in his best ripped jeans, chains glinting, biceps flexing through his short sleeves, nails painted and re-painted. 

He throws his silky bangs out of his eyes and watches as the students trickle in- he didn’t even know half the people that dapped him up before treading inside the Itadori family home. And through each smile and greeting, Choso’s eyes flickered over the blur of faces for only one.

Yours.

The slosh of beer. The splash of ping-pong balls inside cups.

It was nearing midnight and Choso still couldn’t find you. Fuck, he almost considers letting the party rage on and leaving to find you himself-

“Bubba!” Yuji calls out over the thumping bass, and the dark-haired man is whipping around to find his brother surfing over the sea of people. “Bubba- bubba!” Hand cupped over his mouth to let his voice project, the other gripping his camera. “I saw Utahime and Shoko by the food table, no sign of her though.”

“Yuji-” Choso’s yanking on his brother’s arm, tugging his brother to him. His eyes probe down in concern, “What do you mean no sign of her? You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Yuji nods, “I asked them, too- they said she’d be coming separately but still no sign of her.” 

“I hope she’s okay…” Choso worries on his lip ring, he looks over the perspired heads of party-goers. The party was in full swing by midnight, and it showed no sign of stopping. He’s sure he saw at least one antique vase smashed, and one drunk couple making out in Sukuna’s room…“Maybe I should go check on her?”

Yuji tilts his head in confusion, “How?”

“I’ll just wait by the door maybe…”

“All night?”

“All morning if I have to.” 

Waving off his concerns, he tells his brother to order some more food and leaves for the front door.

Ignoring the calls of his name and the compliments. Trying to squeeze past the slightest gaps between bodies, “Excuse me-” He’s whispering, wincing as he forces his way through them. “Excuse me- coming through. Excuse me.” Seeing the widely gaped door as a few more people shove themselves inside the party, the door starts to close. “Wait wait don’t close, I just want to get to-”

You.

A hand stops the front door from closing, and he’s instantly putting a name to face. A name to body. A name to each fingertip by fingertip.

The party hushes just a little when you enter. The music slows. The chatter dies down. The eyes of everyone present snaps to you- holy shit, it was you. It was really, really you. 

Dressed in your prettiest slip dress. Hugging every inch of you so perfectly in the way he wanted to. Your eyes shimmering with a bit of glitter on the edges. Your lips resembling a candy he couldn’t wait to suck on right now. Immediately, it’s as if his world was bending to your will, your intrusion - as it always did.

Holding the door open, “Oh!” You’re clearly startled to come face-to-face with Choso Kamo so soon - and especially so close. Your eyes widen as they flit up his sculptured body, that t-shirt that clung to him attractively. “Ditching your own party so soon?”

“I was about to until you came along.”

Fuck—why did he say that?

In the distance, he can hear three irritating (strangely familiar) squeals. And he’s bringing a hand up to fiddle with his lip piercing, apology on his tongue when-

“Well, then I sure am glad I came along.” You’re smiling in that way that feels like you’re analyzing every inch of him, “This party wouldn’t have been much fun without you, Cho.” You push his shoulder with yours, and he thinks he might just melt.

He thinks he does.

There’s a flash of a camera that jolts him into action once more.

“Can I uh- get you uh—a beer? Or something?” Grimacing at his own choked-up hosting, he ushers you in and closes the door. Your shoulder brushes against his, and he thinks he might just cream his pants. “Or a shot? Ah- onion rings?”

“I think I’m good on the alcohol…for now.” You hum, and there’s something in your tone that he can’t quite pinpoint. The party parts ways for you, and he’s leading you inside. 

Choso raises a brow, curious. “How come for now?”

“Ah- because I know if I want to drink I’ll drink until I drop out of anger.” You huff, looking up at him meaningfully. You’d reached the dance floor by now- or at least, the living room that had found itself being turned into a dance floor. The music was much louder here, and you beckon Choso in close to whisper in his ear—your breath brushing his sensitive earlobes. “Break-ups tend to do that to you.”

Choso shivers at the proximity, before registering what you’d just said. “Wait- break-up-”

“It was a long time coming anyway.” You’re sighing, a slight smile on your face. “And this time it’s done for good- don’t worry, it’s not like I’m upset or anything…” Huffing out contemplatively, “Well, maybe a little- but not over him, rather the time I wasted.”

“I-I see…” Choso swallows, his throat was parched as if he’d just run a marathon. He clenches his fists, and then he wipes those sweaty palms down his sides—before bringing them up to hold yours. In just a little, his band would be playing (he’d been holding them off for you), but until then…

You look up at him in slight surprise, slight warmth.

“Then…” He tugs you down to the dance floor, “-shall we dance?”

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuck…” Choso can’t help but let his slick tongue flop out- as if he wanted to surge his head between those pretty legs of yours, as if he wanted to chase that sweetly honeyed cunt you’d plopped right on top of him.

It didn’t take long after dancing together - so close, you’re sure the rumor mill was working overtime by now - and listening to Choso’s rock set before you’d all but dragged him upstairs. Blindly, he’s the one that’d led your impatient self to his bedroom and locked the door.

And you’d barely had the time to admire those rock posters along his walls, his practice drum kit, before he’d laid you out on his jet-black sheets.

Before you’d flipped him over and set your thighs upon either side of his pretty, pretty face.

With your hips hoverin’ over Choso’s face, you’re letting your mouth upturn into a smirk as his gluttonous tongue lavishes out. The ridges of his tastebuds already watery with how badly he wanted you, he’s groaning from underneath. “S-sit on my face.” 

“What was that?” You’re leaning in with your ear cupped, pretending not to hear. Not close enough for him to actually get what he wants, but enough to have him lunging forwards with a whine. “The music’s really loud, Cho.”

“Sit on my- face.” Such a pretty hot blush spreads all over his cheeks, as if Choso couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth. With both hands gripped upon both your thighs, he’s pulling you in. “Please sit on my face, ngh- what do I hafta do to have you fuck my mouth properly?”

“How about you beg-”

“Please—”

“Call me ma’am?”

Tears start twinkling at the edge of Choso’s eyes at how badly he wanted you, how ravenous he was. “Please…” Mumbling out in such a pouty way, his lip ring glimmers. “Please, ma’am.”

You shiver, zaps of arousal running down your spine and straight to your core- you couldn’t believe that it was so damn easy to get him to bend to your will like this. And Choso’s noticing your slight shakes with a whine of concern, batting up his lashes-

“Something the matter, baby?”

“Oh, nothing—” You hum, and the bed creaks as you inch just a lil’ forward. “It’s just, you’re already so tempting as is- just one question, have you ever done this before?”

You didn’t know it was even possible for his furious flush to grow even stronger, “N-no…”

“Mmm, thought so.”

To which his brown brows furrow in a plea- “But I promise I’ll be so good for you- mmpf!”

Immediately shutting him up with the front of your pussy- your bloated lips end up glued against his mouth. His greedy maw. His agape cavern. His lip piercing was cold against your outer cunt. His tongue sticks directly out to swipe at your sultry pussy, and you watch in real time as Choso’s doe-like eyes widen, entire body jolting as if he’d just been struck by a million volts of electricity.

And he takes one lick, he takes one slurp.

That’s all it takes for Choso Kamo to get fucking addicted.

“O-oh my god…” Slurring out right between your pussylips, you’re being dragged forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll atop him. Nudged right until the tip of his straight nosebridge ends up shoved between your folds, “Mmm, oh my god-” He breathes out—that’s until he realizes that he has to remove himself from your pussy to actually breathe.

And it’s with great pain that and multiple seconds that Choso actually unlatches himself from your cunt to intake a few gasps. Before plunging straight back in with a wet sluuuuurp—“Oh my god- are all pussies this sweet- or is it just yours, ngh! I think it’s just yours, baby…”

Oh, it’s going to be really fun to control him to your lecherous whims.

“I didn’t realize you’d be a fuckin’...oh, fuck.” You’re throwing your head back with a slight yelp. Because without any warning, Choso’s smearing aside your folds with his nose to find your sensitive nub.

Instantly letting his mouth fall open, he’s latching at your clit and drag-drag-draaaagging. And especially with his frigid lip ring, it’s making you feel sensations you didn’t even know were possible. “Mmm, and then there’s this clit of yours—fuck!” As if that wasn’t enough, he’s reaching up a hand to hold your pussylips wiiiide open. Sucklin’ away even deeper, “Just the gift that keeps on givin’, baby, mmm- this pussy is just such a treat. I think I could have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner-” 

He just starts babbling - so drunk on your pussy already that the only thing you can do is grab onto a lock of Choso’s dark hair and pull him off. “Ch-Choso, oh my god.” Wait- did you think you could control him?

He’s blinking his long lashes at you blearily, lips all glossed with your sweetened slick. “What were you saying again?”

“Munch.” You’re spitting out, almost accusing- and a drivel of your spit dangles out of your mouth, ready for Choso to open his mouth and let it splatter onto his mouth. You’re looking down at the display and letting out a shiver, “I didn’t think you’d be such a munch, Choso- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“P-pussy…” He’s prattling out, hypnotized. Before shaking his head out of that daze, slightly giggling. “I mean- positive.”

Your peripherals widen in disbelief—did he seriously just mix that word up with your pussy? “You can’t be serious…” Deciding to take things into your own hands, you’re tightening your fist ‘round his sweat-drenched bangs a bit more. “Unless you want to- hah, suffocate then you might wanna take it slow, baby.”

“B-but…”

“But what, Cho—?” And oh, he could see that mean glint in your eyes as you tugged his head to the side and made him groan. The sudden movement made Choso’s lips break off with a dampened mwah! and the poor boy is reaching upwards with a few pleas.

“Please-” This eyeliner smearing ‘round the edges as he all but cries at the very thought of your pussy being taken away from him. “Please- no! Don’t take her away from me m’begging- you can take it slow, you can take it slow.” Choso shakes his head fervently, “You can take it slow just…”

And you catch his dilated pupils darting somewhere towards the edge of his bedside cabinet, curiosity growing. “Just what, hm?”

“I just want to have one condition of my own.”

You let him trail off of your pussy- and it takes him a few more open-mouthed kisses before he can even bear to remove himself from your cunt. Without delay, he reaches to open up the drawer beside him. “What are you…”

And you can only watch - slack-jawed and speechless - as Choso fits a silver orb of a tongue piercing right in the middle of his tastebuds.

Right smack-dab in the middle.

You take back what you thought about control.

And you’re barely allowed the time to register just how attractive he looks this way, before Choso’s back plastering his flattened muscle over your pussy. “S-slow, I said, Cho. Slow.”

“Sorry, baby, sorry.” Brows knitting together, he tries to concentrate. “Slow…m’gonna take it…slow.”

You’re gyrating your hips backwards in such a sensual pace - it was almost agonizing the round-a-bout way you’d move your hips back against his face. Keeping him wrapped around your lil’ pinkie, “Mmm, yeah- just like that, Choso.” 

Holding onto his scalp, your channel constricts at the way he just kept on cracking out tiny whimpers every time you tugged a bit too harshly at him.

Humming, “Just like thaaaaat-” Feeling his overeager mouth surge faster upwards at the compliment, “Ah ah- slow down, baby. Mmm, just like that.”

Because at least this tempo let you keep your wits about you. 

Somewhat…

But then something happens.

But then he’s sensing your deviating hips angle themselves- he’s sensing you crave the cold drag of his piercing. And Choso Kamo just can’t stop his body being sent into a state of frenzy—where it doesn’t matter how much you’re holding yourself back, he’s pulling you in, he’s squelching his tongue upwards, he’s kissing away. “This—” Lapping and lapping up the crevice of your cunt with his lengthy tongue. “Does it feel good on your pussy, baby? Please- please tell me you can feel it.”

“I can feel it.” Breathily, you have to fight to keep your tone under control as he slips n’ slides his textured tastebuds all over your outer pussy. Alternating between those ravenous kisses and lil’ tugs on your clit. “F-feels so cold on my clit- hah.” Fuck slow, he was going wild.

“Good.” And you swear you can feel Choso’s smile spreading across your folds, oh-so-sensitive with his sheer friction. The longer he was kissin’ away at your cunt, the more honest he got. “I got it just for you, y’know?”

And no matter how tightly you’re trying to grab onto his sweaty scalp, Choso was just so feral with his movements. Uncontrollable. You try to haul him backwards to slow him down, but he was only manhandling you further onto his face. “Wh-what do you mean you got it just for me?”

“Exactly what I said, baby—” He’s batting his teary lashes, “That I was thinkin’ of you when I- ngh, got it. That all I could fucking think of when I got my tongue pierced was havin’ your sweet pussy on me like this, and my piercing rubbin’ up against you like- that-”

Lurching on top of him when he stretches your tight hole out with just the crown edge of his tongue. Choso’s circular piercing knocks up against the sides of your walls and leaves you feeling mad, “Oh my god—” Saliva splattering down your front.

Then Choso’s feeling the way you clench, feeling the way your entrance quivers around nothing.

And it was just such a shame to leave your pretty cunt waiting, wasn’t it? So like the good boy he was, he’s slipping an inch of his wet muscle inside and making you gasp at the stretch. His orbed piercing marking his pathway perfectly, “Shit! At least give a girl a warning-”

“M’sorry, baby.” Choso whines, “Y-you won’t take my pretty pussy away from me for that, will you?”

“Well…” At least dragging out your answer let you see him all hopeless and needy like this. But honestly, looking at him - all starry-eyed, blushing-cheeked, half his face slicked in your sap - how could you ever say no to him?

Shit, he might just have you drunk on his tongue.

And your body starts to quake with tiny shivers, with both your hands woven into his hair for stability. You feel the desperate slashes of his tongue increase, and realize that he wasn’t edging any closer to your hole without your permission. How cute…“Nope- but s’gonna be on my terms, baby- oh.”

No sooner are the words panted out of your mouth that Choso’s mazing his prolonged tastebuds straight through your entrance.

A direct pap! to the gooey roof of your cunt- and you gasp at the contact, slightly pulling back. Before Choso holds one side of your hips and makes you sit properly down on his face to slash and slash and slash at your innards. Fucking you with his mouth like such an animal- “Y-yes, anything you say…”

“Fuck- fuck- then-” You’re tugging back with his hair, almost simply to watch the way that Choso’s chasing your cunt afterwards.

“T-tell me m’doing a good job, baby- tell me-”

Hiccuping out, “You’d be a much better boy f’me if you were a little more in control.” His lip piercing was practically glued to your outer cunt, and Choso simply couldn’t decide between sucking on your slit and spreadin’ open your hole with his very lips.

Maddened.

You’re struggling to even think beyond the primal stretch at your hole, and as you tug on Choso’s hair yet another time- he’s moving back in with a growl. “C-can you even think, baby?” Asking, whining through the great dollops of saliva clogging up your throat. He shakes his head and you continue, “Do you even know what you’re doing? Can you even breathe?”

“How can I?”

Drippin’ straight down his pointed chin, droplets of your slick wobble across his skin as he mumbles. “Like I said- m’taking it sloooow—” Stroking your glistening walls multiple times a second, his tongue piercing zig-zagging rapid lines. “M’taking it- hah, just the pace you want it.” His brown eyes glinting with something that looked almost predatory. “M’giving you m-mercy.”

“F-fuck…” A breathless gasp leaves you, eyes widening at the sinful epiphany you’d just come across. “I really…can’t control you.”

Shoving himself a few inches deeper inside your wet pussy, “But she certainly can.”

And then it’s not just Choso’s tongue that’s muddlin’ up your mind (and your cunt), but his fingers decide to join in on the fun, too.

Not only were they unfairly long, but they were so flexible. 

Curving juuust the right way to make those chunky metal rings on his fingers dig against your softened walls, “J-just can’t control myself when it comes to this pussy, baby.” He’s whining out between your slick-sheened thighs, splatter after splatter of syrup letting out of you. Choso thrusts his digits in until they’re knuckle-deep, and his skin ‘round that area stings bright red. “Just drives me…wild. Just makes me wanna make her mine and- fuck, fuck everyone that th-thinks otherwise.”

“Oh, please—” Throwing your head back, your thighs start to shiver - and you’re not quite sure whether that’s because of the exertion or the sheer amount of pleasure he was pumping into you. “Please, you’re just so close-”

“No, you’re just so close.” He’s giggling out, taking a lavish lick inside your hole. “I can taste it on her.”

“You- you can…” You breathe out in disbelief. 

He locks his lips ‘round your clit now, permanently back to sucking on that cute nub. Drawing out the most adorable whines from your mouth, Choso’s swervin’ his ringed fingers inside of you. Looooog zig-zags, “I can.” Poking his textured tips into any crevice he can find, any orifice. “You’re startin’ to taste so much sweeter, baby- fuh-feels like you’re gonna cum on my tongue.”

Bucking, “I am I am- ngh, I’m so fucking close.”

“Mmmm—just need to hit that p-pretty lil’ g-spot, don’t I?” At that surprised look you’re throwing down at him, “What? Just because m’a virgin doesn’t mean that I’m- ngh, unknowledgeable. I read up on it y’know…”

“And what exactly did you read up on it, Choso?” You can’t help but ask.

“That I need to find that spot and you’ll feel—” The circle of his tongue piercing draaaags so lecherously, right on time with one of his silver rings inside of you. The cold material makes your pupils swirl inside the whites of your eyes, and you almost don’t hear his next words. “-like c-cumming on my face-”

Jostled up by him-

“Please tell me where it is, baby.” He begs, words nearly drowned out by the squelches! of him hammerin’ two fingers away inside of you. “Please- please I want you to cum on my face. I promise I’ll be good…after, just let me know where-”

“Fuh-fuuuuck, Choso.” You’re bawling out, that fire starting out at the pit of your stomach. “You’re just too much- think m’gonna cum soon n’- hck! my g-spot should be…”

He moves, fingers twitching excitedly inside of you.

“-right- up.”

And he’s probin’ into your sweetest spot perfectly—just perfectly. 

The roughened knobs of his fingers stick against your bundle of nerves, and you’re feeling a sudden surge of pleasure that makes you see pure white- before you’re throwing your head back and announcing your high. “C-cumming-” You gurgle out, “Oh my god- m’cumming, Choso.”

“H-heh…all on my tongue.” The dark-haired man declares smugly - just as he’d expected, you’d toppled over the edge. He told you he could taste it. “More, baby- more. Ride your orgasm out on my tongue, will you?”

“Doing so…”

Fucking you with his hands.

Not only were you gripping Choso’s long locks in two places and using him to bounce your hips backwards, but he was elongating your high with not two- not three- but four ringed fingers bullied between your tender pussylips.

Just plain mean. The sheer stretch of it was just incredible, and he was openin’ you up like never before. 

Eating you out like never before.

You’re feeling wet tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of his tastebuds rolling over your throbbing clit—slurp-slurp-slurp! Precisely whenever it felt like a peak of your bliss was coming onwards, and that only left you more gone on his tongue. “Feels good like this, doesn’t it, baby?” With a sloppy noise, he then continues to suck on your clit. “Mmmm- not bad for a first timer.”

“P-perhaps.” You didn’t even know what else to say. You’re shivering throughout your entire body when he slobbers his tongue over from your clit to start pricking n’ prodding at your hole. “Shit- y’know my high’s almost over, right, Choso?”

“I know.”

And yet he still doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re left fucked utterly dumb on his mouth, not until he’s letting you ride through your entire orgasm and then some, not until he has you in actual tears of overstimulation-

“P-please-” You couldn’t believe how you sounded at this point - you. Queen Bee. Things always went your way- but now you were at Choso’s complete and utter mercy. “Give your mouth a little rest, Cho-”

He seethes, as if offended. “I don’t even need to breathe when I have your pussy on me, you think I’d stop because m’jaws fuckin’ tired, baby?”

Blubbering, “Maybe not- but hck! if you slow down now then I’ll have more stamina for ah- something else…” For him? You’d have stamina regardless, but the lil’ warning worked in getting Choso to unglue his pierced lips from your pussy with a final mwah!

And it was the loudest, most sinful noise you’ve heard in your entire life.

Enough to get you to shake with arousal, and for Choso to use his strong arms n’ seat you down on his lap. With your legs straddling his slender waist now, he’s sitting up. 

Staring down at you through heavy half-lidded eyes, “You were saying…?”

“I was saying.”

He just looked too sexy like this.

Long hair all rumpled with you running your fingers through them. His eyes faintly misty and sex-crazed. More than half his face was gleaming with your syrupy slick. Lips puffy. Eyeliner smeared. Rings all stained with a few layers of your sap that he licks right off- all while looking straight into your dilated pupils.

Your cunt throbs.

Eager to get him back for this, you’re tearing off Choso’s t-shirt of some punk-rock band. And beneath—oh, were you pleasantly surprised.

You’d somewhat expected Choso to be one of those types that were silently muscular, silently toned, silently so strong. 

Your eyes greedily followed the curves and dips of his sculpted front, and realize that he was blushed all the way down to his prominent pecs. You reach out and touch the spattering of star-like freckles across them, and then so on forth to his…nipple piercings.

Your thumb snags on the glinting bar that pierced his left pec- and he hisses.

“Oh my-” You’re cooing, “S’this for me, too?”

“Y-yes.”

You push him down flatly onto the bed, making his pillows puff up with the pressure. Your hands then sensually caress the ladder-like ridges of his abs - all smoooooth and rippling at your touch. 

Down, down, dooooown to ultimately end up buried in his slightly unruly happy trail. “It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” His breath hitches once you start fiddling with his jeans, tugging—pulling. “Who would’ve thought that cute lil’ Choso Kamo, always so quiet and shy, would be like this.” Your mouth waters as his pants start loosening, “That he’d be so, so…”

Big.

There was no other adjective for it.

Choso Kamo was simply so big - just the prettiest rose-red at his tip, all engorged that it was as if every ounce of blood in his body had ended up at his cock instead. A few puffy veins. Just the barest curls of brown at his base. His erection stood looooong and upright, dribblin’ out a few lines of precum at the intensity of your stare. 

And there- right in the middle of his shaft was a circular piercing that sat snugly underneath a particularly prominent vein. Winking up at you like it couldn’t wait to feel you.

And even from here, you could tell that Choso was already the type to be so sensitive-

“D-don’t-” To your surprise, his right hand snakes down and ends up at your throat. Gently holding you back from getting any nearer to his raging hot cock.

You’re mentally counting about ten of his inches- maybe eleven?! And you look up at him in slight confusion.

He clears his throat, “I mean- it’s just that I know what you’re thinking. But the thing is, if you put your lips on me now then m’just gonna…cum…instantly.”

Your brows raise damn near to your hairline, “What if I want that then?”

“I’ll beg you not to.”

“Beg.”

“Please, ma’am- fuck-” You’ve just made that punk-rock boy beg—and not only that, whilst he was midway through his pleading, you’d made him throw his head back with the cutest whine.

How?

Simply swervin’ your hips over his aching hot length, and whilst Choso had been talking- you’d just runnnnn your glossy pussylips down the thickness of his length. Simply sandwiched between your folds, he’d felt so thick and solid against your entrance.

Throb-throb-throbbing away.

It’d only left you…ravenous for more-

“Need you to fuck me now, Cho.” You lean in to tell him, your breath scorching against his face. And Choso had the urge to lean up and lick those dried tears off your cheeks. “Want you inside me so fucking bad-”

“Fuh-fuck- don’t talk like that.” He’s urgently saying, head snapping downwards.

And you’re following his gaze just to find that Choso’s bawling divot had started pouring out bead after bead of gooey white sap at your words. Simply your words. He was almost on the verge of cumming at your words.

And oh- how he both loves and hates that mischievous smile that spreads across your pretty face. “But it’s just the truth, Cho.” Batting your lashes up at him, “I just really want you inside-”

“Please-”

“Always wanted you inside-”

“I w-won’t go easy-”

“Always dreamt of you inside- oh, fuck.”

It’s the last thing your nasty mouth can get out before Choso’s grabbing onto either side of your shoulders and shoving his thick, aching cock inside of you.

Just a single inch, perhaps not even that.

Just the slightest intrusion.

And it’s so sexy that you almost wished you recorded the way he’s letting his toned chest heave with a gasp, the way he’s flushing all the way down to his roots, the way that Choso’s entire body seems to zap with sultry lightning—a mere pause.

You could almost feel the question that hangs in the air - so this is what you feel like?

Before then he’s shoving and shoving.

Like he’s gone absolutely wild- “Fuck-” Choso spits between his honed teeth, “Fuck- hold still.” Grabbing onto you anywhere, everywhere—just anything that would keep you there while he tried to fuck his cock inside you until your sweetened sap is overspilling. “Hold still, hold still, hold—” You weren’t even prepared to accommodate him, and yet you can feel an inch or so more of his thickness funnel inside. “—still.”

“Oh my- oh my god!” You’re thrashing at the sudden pressure being put on your lower half, but Choso’s keeping his hold firm. He’s pinning you down. He’s not letting you move a single inch. He’s not even giving you a mere warning before reeling his puffy inches back-

Your eyes snap open, and you’re just about to ask whether he was pulling back.

-before Choso’s snapping his hips to yours and only tunneling that globular tip of his even deeper. “Hold still.” He spits down a splat! accurately onto your cunt, “You- you just need to hold still.”

It was like a mantra. You’re shivering at the tone of his voice. 

There was a certain roughness to his words, a certain primal want in them that you’ve never heard from Choso before. Or anyone, ever, really. 

It made your heard damn near beat out of your chest, and your fingers tremor as you reach up to him. Gliding away the sweaty bangs that obscure Choso’s gaze, “What did you say now, baby?”

“I said-” And you can only gasp as he lunges his hips back a few more inches, barely even letting your cunt constrict around nothing before he’s pushing in with a deep thwack! It’s enough to make your body lurch at the sudden intrusion- to which Choso’s tightening his grip on you until he was white-knuckled. “-hold. Still.”

But how could you possibly hold still when you were stuffed in so tight that you barely felt like you could even breathe. Could barely even keep it together. Could barely do anything but arch your back and-

“Didn’t I fuckin’ tell you to hold still?”

Your jaw drops, turning your head down to look at him—weren’t you supposed to be the mean one out of you two? “You did, but-”

“Then hold—” Clearly feeling that he needed to up the ante, both his hands detach from your sides. You could already feel the steam wafting out from where his touch had once been, and those very same rude palms waste no time ending up…laced on top of your crowned scalp. “-fucking-” Using the leverage to push you down onto his drilling hips, “-still.”

He finally looks up at you then - finally.

And what you see shakes you to your very core.

Because Choso Kamo’s pupils were dilated until it looked almost animalistic, in a way you didn’t even know was possible for a human. He looked crazed. He looked hungry. He looked as if he was on the verge of devouring you whole right then and there.

And then he’s fucking you like it, too.

Rough, rapid half-thrusts just to fit inside.

Fuck—Choso’s throbbing circumference was just too fucking big to bottom out immediately. But he’s sloppily dragging down your channel until he was just about halfway inside, with the knob of his silver piercing tickling your entrance.

With a gruff groan, he swipes that frigid metal ‘round your hole as if claiming you. The shy man hisses at the resistance of your cunt before holding you down and pushing- “Hold still before I fucking c-cum.”

“Oh-” You’re gasping, “So that’s why-”

“Fuck- actually, don’t even speak.” And you’re quickly understanding why when even the mere sound of your whiny voice leaves Choso’s bludgeoning tip twitching.

Hard and fast.

Desperate and needy.

Like he was trying to claim even the slightest ounce of space inside you, Choso bucks his hips and lets his dewy eyes flutter shut. Mouth falling agape, “Shut up and take it. D-don’t test me, baby.” With the hand plastered on top of your scalp, he’s ramming you right back down to meet his hips. “Not unless you want me to cum i-inside right this very second.”

“But what if I do?”

“Fuck…fucking- shut—” Shutting you up by a ringed thumb pushed into your mouth, it was just so easy for him to reach down from your crown. Preventing you from talking back, preventing you from running, preventing you from doing any fucking thing but taking his thickly massive cock.

Ignoring those words of yours that were definitely riling him up, Choso instead focuses on letting his blushin’ tip scrape at your g-spot.

It leaves you absolutely incoherent, squealing ‘round the intrusion of his thumb. “Please-” You’re somehow managing out, “Please I- hck! love it like that- would love it even more if you would cum in-”

“Fucking- I can’t even—” And he just sounds so agonized as he drills up into you like a madman - Choso’s oversensitive cock wasn’t even ready to, didn’t even think he could handle it. And yet he’s doing so to prevent you from yammering on with those filthy words of yours. Choso’s crying out. “Is that you or her talking- you or her—stop talkin’ outta your pussy, baby, s’gonna drive me w-wild.”

Blinking away your tears, the edge of his thumb had slipped out of your mouth by now. Drawing a splattering smear of saliva, “And here I thought you said you were g-going to let me have my way-”

“Did I say that?” As he pauses to think, you could see the brief glimmer of human recognition spark in Choso’s deep irises. “Can’t remember, heh.”

“You little-”

You’re cut off by your own surprised yelp, because in absolutely no time- Choso has your positions flipped over. It was you that had your back against the mattress now, being pushed further and further in the direction of the headboard any time he moved.

And Choso was just lurking above you, was just pinning you down with his mere muscular weight.

He didn’t even have to try to halt your restless hips in their pursuit, and throws your legs over his shoulders easily to fuck you in the meanest mating press possible.

Your ass against his thighs, his forehead bending down to press against yours.

This angle was just perfect. 

In absolutely no time, his rounded cockhead was bludgeoning against every sweet orifice on your walls. Before he’s ultimately slide-slide-sliiiiding down to dig his circular girth against your cervix- with a great thud! that sets your teeth on edge.

His pale hips slam into yours again and again and again- “H-hold still.” Just about the only thing that he could get out now, right between those clenched canines of his. It was more on autopilot than anything, because you weren’t moving a single inch- and yet Choso was already so gone on your cunt that he couldn’t stop babbling. “Didn’t I tell you to stop moving- oh, this sweet pussy…she’s just being so filthy f’me.”

“And you’re just being so pussydrunk, Cho.” You’re somehow giggling out, though he’s slowly fucking that laughter out with a rough few slams at your deepest depths.

Not slowing down until you couldn’t help but feel his bruisin’ tip even after he’s pulled out, just to sink all the way back in again. “Hold- fucking- still—”

“I am.”

“Wh-what do you even mean?” Sounding genuinely confused, genuinely so dazed. You’re sure that if you squeezed your soft, velvety walls this very second then Choso would completely forget the last few seconds of your conversation.

Almost to test it - you do.

And you watch as the dark-haired man immediately drops his head to the crook of your neck, clammy skin-against-skin. You watch as he shivers, you watch as he only raises his face to stare at you with bleary eyes. “Wh-what were we talking about again, baby…?” And even more so- you’re raising both your hands up to toy with the glinting silver of Choso’s nipple piercings, rolling your fingers over his rosy buds. And you watch as an even more dopey expression overcomes his features, “We were nght—talking?”

Even his syllables were slurring together. You had to bite back a giggle, “Just talking about how much I wanted you to fill me- ngh- up.” You’re tugging and teasing his cute nipples, he lets off the prettiest short gasps any time you’re pressing down on the pierced nubs of his nipples like a button. “You can cum inside right now if you wanted, Cho.”

“R-right…” And his eyes grow just a bit clearer, he’s nodding as if he remembered exactly what you meant. Scouring one hand off your head and down the middle of your core, “Right- was talking about how I wanted to fill this ngh- cute womb up like craaaaazy- weren’t we?”

“Yes- fuck yes.” You’re moaning as his speed suddenly grows even faster.

“And we were talking about how m’gonna cum any second now?” He presses down on the top of your stomach as he pounds past your geysering orifice, creating the perfect pressure that makes the both of you whimper. “And how m’gonna be the one to cuh-cum first?”

“Yes- yes-”

“Because m’so patheeeeetic on this pussy, aren’t I?” An almost crazed tone in his voice, something that sends zaps of electricity thrumming through your every vein. “I’d die for her- I’d ngh- do anything for her.”

You throw your head back, body arching against his glissading abs. “You…are…oh.” And you didn’t know who was more shattered at this point - you or—

“But you’re not pathetic for wanting this touch-starved loser virgin to fill your cunt up with my cum?”

You.

It was absolutely you.

At least, it was you in this very moment. 

Because somewhere in the middle of his vulgar strokes, Choso had somewhat regained his senses. At least enough to make you end up with heart-eyes on his cock, your cunt slobberin’ out any time he’s pulling his hips back.

A great splosh! of sap pathetically spilling out from between your legs leaves him crinkling his nose with a shy chuckle. “Cute.” Before you know it, his hands lift off of your scalp to wrap one at your throat. The other drifts down somewhere between your legs…“You- ngh, reeeeally want me to fill this pretty pussy up, baby?”

And you can’t help but become so-very-honest on his rovering cock, knockin’ against your every sweet spot and aching to knock you up! “Yes-” You blurt through tears, “Yes, I really- ngh, really want you to.”

“Sh-shit, you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of you saying that.” 

You might have been opening your drooling mouth to respond with something, but Choso’s cutting you off by slithering his slender index and thumb between your pussylips and pinching your cute clit. You’re moaning loud enough that you’re sure the party downstairs must have heard- “J-just like that-” Letting your limp limbs twitch with the crackles of pleasure. “Just inside, baby.”

“Mhmmm- inside inside- inside.” Choso’s grunting out after each ravenous roll of his thumb atop your nub. He’s hitting your pelvis a few more times with his, making the slamming of skin echo out into the room. “But you better cum f’me first, baby.”

Your eyes snap wide open, “Why me first-” Speeding up, your g-spot was practically getting bruised by this point.

“Can’t you indulge this loser a little and let me make you cummmm again-” He coos, fingers so fast on your clit that they look like nothing but a blur. “S’all I’ve ever wanted ever since I first- ngh, saw you, y’know? To give this pussy a gooood proper fuckin’ that I knew she wasn’t getting- I might’ve been a virgin but I could learn.”

“And you’d be the- hah, one to do that?”

He’s slamming his globular length into your so hard that your tastebuds sizzle, and you swear you can taste his salty pre at your throat. Choso’s starin’ you deeply into your eyes whilst he fucks you maddeningly, deeply into your eyes whilst he says. “Baby, I already am.”

 As he finishes his filthy sentence, Choso purposefully shortens some of his furious thrusts. Because he didn’t even want to wait for the recoil of your spongy womb before he’s pumping in one more, because he wanted to assault your poor throbbing g-spot with his orb piercing. Rubbing and rubbing—

Until you’re finally crashing into your second high of the night.

Such an incredible sensation that you can’t decide which one was better - both of them were the two best in your entire life, however. 

“Hold still-” Choso unplasters his hand from your neck, which then moves down to grip at your waist. To keep your waist pinned down to the creaky mattress, “Hold still while I fuh-fuck you like you deserve.” And above all - to let the fat, drivellin’ tip of his cock glide down your g-spot and alllll the way to your womb with absolutely no problem. Again and again. Every peak upon peak being draaaaagged out—“Hold still while- ngh, oh…fuck, I can barely even speak because of her.”

It takes over your body in waves - first your toes that curl, then your thighs that just won’t stop twitching, your heaving chest your muddled mind.

And then finally that mouth of yours that keeps on begging- “Now- now your turn.” Stubbornly, you lock your ankles around the back of Choso’s neck. Not even halfway through your own orgasm before you’re begging for his, “Gonna hold still- so you h-have to do it inside, m’kay, Cho?”

He’s staring at you with such dazed eyes, “Y-yes, ma’am.”

Because you always did get what you wanted.

And the tingles of your high have just barely begun to peter out, before they’re being replaced by the sheer sultry warmth of Choso’s ivory syrup.

The volume.

The way he was flooding you up with only a few vicious strokes.

It oozes out like a never-ending fountain by his strawberry divot, ending up emptied allllll the way near the back of your womb. “Y-yes—” You whine. You pinch Choso’s nipple and he spurts out just a few more pearly beads of cum, “Right there, Cho, want it all deep inside.”

“F-fuck—ngh—” Red-hot. Splashing. Entire body bowing into yours, sweat breaking out across his skin. He scrunches his eyes shut and lets the powerful bliss overtake him, “Oh my god it just feels so- hck! S’even better than I imagined cumming inside you- oh.”

You follow the line of his bleary sight- only to find that Choso was staring where you both were connected.

Your swollen folds. The ring of white ‘round his base.

The fatness of his thumb hovers right down to smear away that cute gloss of white, slurp! “Except in my, mmm, dreams, it was more like—” Though it was for no use, because Choso’s free hand only presses down on your stomach anyway. Until his creamy white cum oozes out of you in slick layers, “-this.”

You’re gaping at the mess he’s made, “And you were telling me to h-hold on-”

“I still am.”

Body moved around by him like a ragdoll, he’s using the hand on your stomach to pin you down. Shoving every solid inch of his cock back and forth—Choso thud-thud-thuds at the goopy wetness of your womb with each of his wads. 

Fucking each one inside you.

Webbing up your insides until your toes curl-

His second hand tilts open your jaw and spits- before kissing you, tongue piercing and all. “Wanna take my virginity a second time?”

.

.

.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

“Rise and shine—! The sun is shining! The grass is green! Your father is back from his trip-”

Now, Choso Kamo will say that he isn’t exactly sure what it is that woke him up that morning. Perhaps it was his father’s usual morning call, as one of those people that were much too happy in the early hours. Perhaps it was the warmth at this side, the way he doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who it is. Perhaps it’s the way he presses a soft morning kiss on the side of your neck, how it all felt like a dream.

Perhaps it’s the girlish scream.

Two of them. One from his father and one from him.

Sitting up in alarm, Choso’s dragging his blanket further up your partially-covered bodies. Trying (quite futilely) to perhaps cover the nail marks down his back and shoulders, the hickies all over your body, the way both your mouths were still swollen. 

Face heating up at Itadori Jin’s wide, gawking eyes from the doorway, “D-dad!” And you start to stir at Choso’s yelp, “Dad, get out-”

“R-right away!”

BANG!

As the thunderous sound of the door closing, you’re lurching up in his bed. Now fully awake, you pull the sheets to your chest. Words nothing but a whisper- sore with all the overuse from last night, “Tell me what I think just happened didn’t just happen…”

Choso opens his mouth to answer (maybe lie and forget this ever happened)-

Before there’s a rapid knock and the door swings wide open once more.

Jin’s pinkish hair makes an appearance, and he keeps his eyes trained shamefully on the floor. Choso starts to protest. You yelp- “Breakfast is downstairs and I’ve made enough for everyone so please stay, okay bye!” He announces over your two voices, and promptly slams the door shut once again.

And you’re left in the silent wake of it—floor rumbling with the vibrations of the door, loud enough that you think you could hear your two thumping heartbeats. Oh my god….

Choso’s the one to break the silence - he kisses you chastely on the lips. “I uh- first day as a couple is going smoothly?”

Sitting up in alarm, Choso’s dragging his blanket further up your partially-clothed bodies. At some point in the night you’d gotten up to make yourselves somewhat presentable and help Yuji clean up after the party. And at some point in the night you’d also kept getting handsy in his room…

It doesn’t take you too long to throw on whatever t-shirt and pyjama pants that Choso hands your way, before admiring just how cute you looked in his clothes…alright maybe it did take long before the two of you were finally ready to make an appearance downstairs. But only because he kept insisting on kisses!

The kitchen quietens down at your entrance, and you’re setting sights on a man that must be no other than Choso’s grandpa- right along with another, younger, one who was the spitting image of Jin. Just slightly rougher around the edges. Tattoos. Piercings- ah, you understood where Choso must’ve gotten his style influenced from.

You’re at their round breakfast table, with his uncle (Sukuna, you hear) on your right, and Choso on your left. The dark-haired man reaches over and runs a hand down your thigh soothingly once conversation starts back up-

“How do you like your eggs, my dear?” Jin asks you, and when you answer he instantly gets to work - waving off your urgent requests to help. “No no- sit, sit! You’re the guest! I always have told Cho here to treat his guests- not that he ever brought anyone over, you’re the first!”

“Certainly- treated her well-” Sukuna coughs out the words only to get elbowed by Wasuke and flicked with egg by Jin. Batting away the concoction, he looks at you by way of explanation. “I’m not a regular uncle, I’m a cool uncle.”

Jin starts up another batch for you, “But anyways- I know we’re just getting to know each other now, my dear, but I do want to thank you for taking care of him.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” You meet Choso’s eyes, and he blushes.

“Awwwww—” Jin, who’d been there to witness the entire thing, starts to flutter about in excitement. He didn’t even care that the eggs were starting to burn- “You two are just dears! Oh, is it too late to show you the baby photographs- tell me it’s not too late!”

Not sure what to say, “I uh…”

“Oh, it’s alright- I’ll just show you the middle school pictures for today and we can save the baby pictures for…also today.” Without waiting for your response, Jin’s disappearing somewhere into the living. Spatula and all. “Yuji, where’s your camera again, my dear?”

Yuji, who’d been shooting smug looks at you two ever since you’d entered calls out- “Should be uh- on the couch?”

And for a second, there’s a moment of peace.

Only for a second, however, you have to remember that this is the Itadori household that you’re in. 

And Itadori Jin’s voice thunders from outside the kitchen—“Choso Kamo. Itadori Yuji. Get to the TV room this- instant!” A shiver goes down your own spine despite not being called out, and you wondered just what made the sweet man sound this way.

As a group, everyone in the kitchen rushes along with the boys.

Only to find Jin standing with the camera, plugged into the television, and its screen displaying—

Choso pouring a mountain of shots on their very kitchen table.

Jin deadpans, “Choso…can you explain to me what you are doing in this photo?”

Choso squints at the screen, “That’s not me.”

“That’s not you?”

“…Nope.”

“Okay.” Jin replies easily, “How about these?”

Shuffling through the pictures on the camera - and you have to hold in a nervous laugh at the shots upon shots of shots, of Choso’s band playing at the party last night, of all the rambunctious students dancing, of a few smashed vases that was likely no one but Jin’s - and then, finally, he’s stopping on one.

One of you and Choso—dancing.

So close.

Your foreheads pressed together

Smiles only for one another.

In the peripherals of the shot, you could see people starting to whisper and hoot at the two of you, you could see your own friends squealing excitedly at the fact that it’d finally happened. But there seemed to be a strange world of your own there that no one else could quite penetrate. Choso’s eyes were just sparkling.

He giggles, “Heheh, that’s me…”

A/N. Oh this was so funnnn- thought of Yuji as Greg and was like WAIT-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[digitaltrippers]

man getting blocked on tumblr dot com for pointing out someone saying blatantly "this character has suffered worse and more" being stupid shit is so funny like man what did you think was gonna happen when you publicly post on tumblr dot com... ion even care if people hate tamsy, bitch me too, i just wanna know why we drawing the line at one character whose actions aren't motivated because of what she went through

being okay with manipulation, murder, etc. but drawing the line at a character you are boiling down to a rape victim being kidnapped and ignoring characters like enjin saying misogynistic shit to amo or mymo enjoying bringing up her trauma against her... man just say you hate tamsy why are you using amo as a reason but not hating the fan favorite misogynist (who acknowledges he is one btw)

[sixxels-deactivated20260420-dea]

raw tempo ~ choso.k

roommate drummer choso x reader 18+

wc: 14k || art creds: @/narutoss_ramen @/einjuji

summary! choso's always had strong feelings for you, his sweet, impossibly cute roommate. after dropping out of college and introducing you to his band mate suguru, things take a turn for the worst when the man starts to take an interest in you. drummer!choso becomes increasingly more jealous and agitated with each fucked up thing geto puts you through, and he finally snaps. his quiet jealousy turns dark, messy, and impossible to ignore. (jealousy, slight angst, messyyy, toxic relationships (suguru –> reader) comfort, fluff, smut.)

choso hated when geto was over.

“suguru! fuck! it’s too much, i can’t, i can’t!”

“shut up, god, and take it.”

your muffled moans and the creak of the bedposts drifted through the thin plastered wall of choso’s room. the one you’d shared since signing the lease over two years ago, back when you were just strangers hunting for a nice apartment during your freshman year.

back then, things had been smooth, easy.

you'd gotten close to the mysterious boy in only a few weeks. just you and choso, figuring out school and life together, finding comfort in each other’s company.

he had been one of the kindest, coolest people you’d ever met, someone who listened to your fucked-up problems without judgment, who cleaned up after himself, who held you on the couch when winter felt too crisp.

the perfect roommate, in every sense.

“you’d make a good boyfriend, cho,” you’d teased once, stroking his hair lightly.

“hmm, you think so?” he’d grinned, lazy and carefree.

but things were different now.

choso had dropped out to focus on his band, 'exorcize'—gojo on vocals, geto on guitar, toji on bass, and him on drums.

the band had taken off, and after being personally invited to one of their gigs, a small introduction from choso had suguru immediately hooked.

that had been the moment everything shifted.

quiet nights of spectated drum practice while you studied or long meaningful conversations were gone, replaced by surprise visits from geto and sleepless evenings that left choso restless and uneasy.

deep down, in that hazy, stoned part of his mind, he knew he felt something for you. something raw, unacknowledged, and unrelenting.

“god, sugu' i seriously can’t! oh my god!”

he heard your cries, felt his stomach twist with a mix of disgust, anger, and jealousy. he couldn’t endure another sober second of listening to you plead.

his hand found a pre-rolled blunt in his dresser, lighting it with a red lighter you'd gifted him months ago, the smoke curling around him like a protective shield.

“c’mon, you can do it, just a few more! fuck!seconds!”

he hated him. but more than that, he hated the way suguru spoke to you.

the subtle degradation, the possessive control masked by perfect composure. choso knew you noticed it too. the way your fingers curled around anything you could grab when suguru got too close, too possessive. the way you'd shy away from him rather than leaning into him lovingly. and yet, you stayed.

it tore something inside choso, some raw, unpolished piece of himself that had never stopped wanting you.

“just a little longer, y/n, fuck, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

he closed his eyes and inhaled, letting the smoke fill his lungs, the only thing that could dull the constant back-and-forth inside his head when it came to you. the only thing that dulled the voice in his head, from when you used to talk to him like he was the only man in the world. his addiction, his only vice.

~

morning

the brunette boy sat slumped on the couch, one leg folded under him, the other stretched across the coffee table. sunlight crept through the blinds, painting uneven lines across his face. his hoodie hung half-off his shoulder, hair tied back loosely, a blunt tucked behind his ear like muscle memory.

he looked fucking wrecked.

you padded out from the hallway, wrapped in a big t-shirt that definitely wasn’t yours. it hung too low on your thighs, smelled faintly like suguru’s cologne, and that made something twist in your stomach when you noticed choso glance at it once, then away with a twitch of his eye.

“good morninggg, cho” you said, trying to sound casual, cheerful, like nothing weird had happened last night.

he didn’t look at you right away. his thumb was tapping against the armrest, slow and rhythmic. “yo.”

you bit your lip, moving to the kitchen counter. the silence pressed between you like humidity. it felt different now, awkward, thick.

you’d never had awkward silence with him before.

“uh, you sleep okay?” you asked, trying to keep the mood somewhat lighthearted.

he finally turned to look at you. dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his tone came out flat. “yeah. where’s geto?”

your stomach fell to the floor. “huh?”

“suguru,” he said again, leaning back into the couch. “where’d he go?”

you blinked, your throat suddenly dry. “oh. um. he, uh, left early. he doesn't really stay the night...he sorta just comes whenever he wants and leaves when we're done.” you clear your trust trying so desperately to try and give this awfully awkward conversation some leeway.

choso didn’t say anything, he only nodded, eyes still lazy with the clear lack of rest. but you knew that look, his patience threatening to snap, the clear click of his neck.

“choso,” you said quietly, walking over a bit. “did you… uhm, hear us?”

his eyes found yours, staring right through your head. “mhm.”

you looked down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “oh my god. i thought you were asleep. i didn’t mean for you to...”

“s’alright,” he said, cutting you off, voice rough. “walls are thin, y’know, i get it, y/n.”

you winced. “was it... was it bad?”

he let out a low, humorless chuckle, the memory of his band mates grunts and your pretty gasps still fresh in his mind. “mhm. heard it all.”

you felt heat crawl up your neck, mortified. “shit, choso, i’m so sorry. i really didn’t think-”

“don’t worry 'bout it,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “i’ll just sleep the morning away, got the gig tonight anyways, so it should be fine.”

you shied into yourself, wanting to say something to make it better, to make him better, but his tone a closed door.

so you offered the only thing that came to mind. “let me make you breakfast? as, like, an apology?”

he looked up, studying you for a second before nodding. “right... sure.”

you let go of a longgg breath and turned toward the kitchen, grabbing eggs and bread from the fridge.

you weren’t sure what he liked this early, he'll, he'd never really been up this early before, he usually slept until noon, leaving the scent of smoke and cereal bowls behind, but it felt like the right thing to do something. the clinking of pans filled the silence.

behind you, choso leaned his head back on the couch, eyes open, watching the sunlight catch beautifully in your hair as you moved. he wanted to stay annoyed, to keep that boundary up. but the sight of you, bare legs, hair messy, singing softly under your breath while cooking in the kitchen? that hit him in the dull, sore spot inside his chest.

“you should come to the gig tonight, if geto didn't already invite ya',” he said suddenly, voice low.

you glanced over your shoulder, surprised. “yeah, you want me to come?”

“i do.” he stretched, reaching for the blunt on the table but not lighting it yet. “you haven’t seen us play in a while.”

you smiled a little, flipping a piece of toast. “yeah, sure. i’ll come.”

he grunted something like approval, pretending not to notice how your eyes softened when you said it, the way your face lit up as you moved your hands.

you’d seen so many clips online, crowds packed like smelly sardines tight in dark centers, stage lights shining over exorcize as they played.

they weren’t just another college band anymore. they were it. the band everyone wanted to fuck, to be, to orbit around.

gojo with his wild white hair and stupidly perfect grin, toji’s quiet menace on bass, suguru’s calm confidence, and choso behind the drums, silent but magnetic, his hair sticking to his face, eyes half-lidded, lost in rhythm.

they all had that look, that raw, sexy allure that made people crave them like meth.

and you’d been there at the start of it. before the crowds, before the smoke machines and the afterparties. when it was just choso, hunched over a kit in the living room, half stoned, tapping out rhythms while you studied on the couch.

the smell of butter and coffee filled the apartment. you plated up the food, scrambled eggs, toast, a few slices of avocado, and brought it over to him.

“hereee you go,” you said in a sing song voice (trying your best to be not annoying but still welcoming), setting the plate in front of him. “a really shitty apology.”

he gave a small smile, lazy but real. “yum.”

you sat down next to him, tucking your legs under you. the couch dipped between you, and the silence that followed wasn’t as sharp this time. he picked at his food for a while, eating slow.

“seriously though, cho,” you said after a minute, eyes on your plate, “i’m really sorry about last night.”

he shrugged, chewing. “told you, s' fine.”

“it’s not fine,” you insisted, voice quiet. “that must’ve been… weird for you. i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

choso let out a low snort, setting his fork down. “y/n. you were horny. you got dicked down. shit happens.”

you froze, staring at him with wide eyes, face flushing deep. “ew,”

he smirked a little, leaning back. “what? just sayin’. it's no big deal.”

“yuck, don't talk to me like i'm one of your little junkie friends!”

“why not? we're not friends now?” he asked, in a tone that was so laid back and careless it made you anger, “what are we then? don’t get all shy now, i'm tryna lighten the shitty mood.”

you swatted his hand away, embarrassed but smiling despite yourself. “stop it, we're just friends... it's just, just shut up.”

“yeah,” he said, a small grin tugging at his mouth. “heard that before.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. for a sec, it felt like the old nostalgic times again.

easy, careful comfort setting back between you. but under it, he felt that same ache still there, low and continuous.

the thought of geto touching you, of your voice on the other side of the wall, it looped in his head like a bad overplayed katy perry song he couldn’t skip.

he finished his plate, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

“thanks for breakfast, it was real good, y/n. you'd make a good housewife y'know,” he said.

“god just shut up,” you said with an all too dramatic eyeroll.

the quiet hung around again, except it felt more comfortable this time.

~

the studio reeked of ash and stale beer. gojo was already shirtless, sprawled across the leather couch, strumming suguru’s guitar with no real purpose.

“bro, put that down before you break a string,” suguru said, tone bored but edged.

“relax, i’m blessing it,” gojo said, flashing him a grin.

toji sat off to the side, bass in hand, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the day. he didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to, his presence was enough to keep the room balanced.

gojo noticed the slight tire in getos purple eyes and decided to pry. “so,” he said, spinning a drumstick between his fingers. “you look fucked, man. late night?”

suguru stretched his arms overhead, dark hair falling into his face. he smirked like he couldn’t help it. “mmm, something like that.”

“oh, come on,” gojo said, grinning. “you can’t just say ‘something like that.’ i need details, you fuck some chick, or?"

toji gave a quiet snort but didn’t look up from his tuning. “you gossip more than a fucking teenager, huh?”

“yeah, keeps me in shape.” gojo’s grin widened. “so? do tell.”

suguru’s smirk deepened, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “you know, just y/n.”

“shit,” gojo said, sitting forward, elbows on his knees. “again? chosos little roommate? thought she was too sweet for you or whatever shitty excuse you made last time you slept with her and dipped.”

suguru shrugged. “sweet doesn’t mean boring.” he spoke like he was discussing a setlist, casual, detached. “can't stop going over to her place man. she's a great fuck, obedient, y'know? and tight as hell.”

gojo laughed under his breath. “oh yeah? she's sexy, sure, but i didn't know she had all of that going for her. you mind if i..."

“yeah, i do,” suguru said, unbothered. he leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs. “she's only sucking my cock right now and i wanna keep it that way.”

gojo raised both hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. so does she know about all the other pussy you get or?..." he teases.

"no. and she's not gonna. thinks i'm some fucking saint."

the way he said it made the air go strange—like they were both too comfortable talking about someone so badly who wasn’t even there.

toji glanced at them, expression flat.

“so what’s the deal then?” gojo asked, voice dropping just slightly. “you two dating?”

suguru’s tone turned dry. “not exactly. it’s just casual, a bit messy.”

“that mean she thinks you are and you don’t?”

little did the guys know, choso was standing in the hallway outside the studio, leaning against the wall, eyes half-lidded, hoodie drawn over his head. the door was slightly ajar.

at first he just wanted to pass, maybe pop in later when they started playing. but then he heard it—

“she’s a little too attached. wants to talk about everything. i don’t do clingy bitches,” suguru said, voice casual, almost bored.

choso froze.

“it’s fine. she knows what this is, if she gets hurt, that’s not on me.”

choso’s jaw tightened under the hoodie. his hands curled into fists, then unclenched. the smoke haze that usually clouded his head felt sharper now, stinging like cold air.

"does choso care? i mean, he's pretty much always high off his face so i doubt he'd even notice, but still. you can't be quite even if you tried." gojo added.

"nah, choso doesn't give a fuck about anything, i'm sure he doesn't care."

gojo just rolled his eyes and nodded along, clearly geto didn't know shit about his supposed friend.

choso was classical stoned, sure, but he was a deep thinker. although the never really voiced his opinions doesn't mean he doesn't have any. and the assumption that he doesn't care about you, the one girl he can actually feel himself around, feel comfortable with? it's a punch to the gut.

“plus, maybe he’s some sick cuck, maybe i’m doing him a favor fucking y/n loud enough for him to hear,” suguru said next, the words like a punchline to the room.

gojo laughed, oblivious, egging him on. toji’s bass sat idle, a quiet observer.

choso’s stomach twisted, sour and heavy, but his face stayed blank. he’d heard enough. everything he’d felt last night, the jealousy, the heat, the ache, pulled into a tighter knot in his heart and mind.

and still. he didn’t react to any of it. didn’t slam the door open or yell, he was too level headed for that kind of shit. he just let the words steep there, let the laughter flush over him. the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat became his anchor.

then, like he always did, he slipped into his usual mask. the hoodie covered his eyes, his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his baggy sweatshirt.

he pushed the door open, just enough to enter, and let his presence announce him.

“’bout time,” gojo said, lounging back on the couch, grinning like nothing was off, like he wasn't just talking questionably about him. “thought you were skipping rehearsal.”

“nah,” choso said, voice low, clipped, casual. “traffic was slow.”

suguru glanced up, immediately switching to his usual calm, lazy composure. “afternoon,” he said evenly.

choso gave a small nod, dropped his bag, and moved to the drum kit, adjusting cymbals without looking at anyone else.

but under the surface, the coiled anger, hurt, and frustration hummed. every tap of the drumsticks later would carry some of that weight, silent, restrained, but there.

gojo, pretending to be oblivious, grinned at him. “you good, man? look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“didn’t,” choso said, tone clipped.

gojo whistled, dragging the notion. “what, neighbor’s dog barking again?”

“something like that.” choso gave suguru a quick side glance before settling in further.

suguru’s hand stilled for a second on the fretboard. he didn’t look up, but he could feel choso’s eyes flick toward him.

toji caught the tension first, his gaze shifting between them. “you two done?” he asked dryly. “we practicing or what?”

choso exhaled, sitting down behind the kit. “yeah. let’s get it.”

the first few hits were slow, a warm-up rhythm, but every strike landed with more force than usual. the echo bounced around the room, sharp and deliberate, filling the silence that had started to suffocate the space.

gojo laughed lightly, trying to shake it off. “guess that’s a yes.” he adjusted his mic stand. “alright boys, from the top.”

the noise erupted again, guitar, bass, drums, the controlled chaos of sound. it filled every corner of the studio, pushing back whatever words had hung there before.

suguru played clean, precise, every note in place, but his mind wasn’t entirely in it. he could feel the weight of choso’s rhythm behind him, each beat heavy, almost personal.

choso kept his head down, sticks moving fast, steady. he wasn’t thinking about the music. he was thinking about voices in thin-walled apartments, about laughter that sounded just like this. about how easily people could talk about something that still sat raw in his chest.

gojo sang through the chorus, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes half-closed. toji’s bass lines held everything together. and choso, he hit the drums like he was trying to keep from saying something out loud.

when the song ended, there was a moment of quiet, the kind that comes right after noise when everyone’s heart is still beating too fast.

“tight,” gojo said, wiping sweat off his face. “we’re gonna kill it tonight.”

“yeah,” toji said simply, setting his bass down.

choso nodded once, not looking at anyone.

suguru adjusted his guitar strap, clearing his throat. “we’ll meet back here at eight,” he said, tone easy. “venue’s expecting us by nine.”

choso started packing up his sticks. the others were still talking, voices fading into background noise. he kept his head low, eyes on the drum kit.

“yo, cho,” gojo said suddenly. “you bringing anyone tonight?”

choso hesitated. “y/n said she'd show.”

“ahh, she better,” gojo grinned. “need a familiar face in the crowd.”

suguru’s hand tightened imperceptibly on his strap.

choso zipped his bag and stood. “mhm. see you later.”

no one stopped him. the door shut quietly behind him, the sound echoing longer than it should have.

for a second, the three of them just stood there. gojo hummed, breaking the silence. “yeah, i think he heard you, and he definitely does care.”

suguru didn’t answer. he just stared at the door for a long moment before setting his guitar down, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wanted to say something and thought better of it.

toji rolled his shoulders and muttered, “doesn’t matter now. just shut up and focus on tonight's gig."

~

choso pushes the door to your apartment at around 7.p.m, his skateboard bumping against the wall as he toes his sneakers off. he decided to hit the skate park after the studio, and was just getting back now.

the apartment’s dark. not quiet-dark, off dark. no wannabe niche indie playlist humming from your room, no yellow light spilling down the hallway, no half-finished tea on the counter. just the faint sound of the fridge and the hanging scent of your coconut shampoo that always stuck in the air.

he squints toward the living room. nothing.

“yo, y/n?” his voice echoes a little. it sounds lazy, but underneath it’s got that edge, confused, half-worried. “you home, babe?”

nothing.

he pauses, drumming his fingers against his thigh. normally he wouldn’t think much of it, you liked to take long showers, disappear for coffee runs, but the place feels weird tonight. the kind of quiet that sits heavy.

“yo, for real, where the fuck are you?” he calls again, walking toward the kitchen, his hoodie half-zipped, hair still damp from washing it after practice. the smell of weed clings to him, mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of cologne he must’ve borrowed from gojo.

he flicks on the hallway light, flinches a little at how harsh it is. the walls glow pale and flat. still no answer.

“y/n,” he mutters, a little louder now, “don’t fuckin’ do this horror movie shit. not in the mood."

he checks the balcony. empty. checks the bathroom, light off, door cracked. nothing. his chest tightens even though he keeps telling himself he doesn’t care, that you’re probably fine, that he’s overreacting like some clingy idiot.

then he hears faint music. a muffled bassline leaking through your bedroom door.

he exhales, tension leaving his shoulders all at once, muttering, “jesus, fuckin’. you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

he knocks lightly, then pushes the door open without waiting.

and freezes.

you’re standing in front of your mirror, airpods in, the faint shimmer of your lip gloss catching the lamplight. you’re half-dressed, black skirt, sheer tights, tiny top, and your hair sits perfectly like you didn’t even try. your room smells like warmth and perfume and clean skin.

for a second, choso forgets how to breathe.

“shit,” he says under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

you pull an airpod out and turn toward him, surprised. “oh my god, you scared me.”

he blinks slowly, eyes dragging up from your legs to your mouth, then back down again. “yeah, uh, my bad. place was dark. thought you got kidnapped or somethin’.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “kidnapped? really?”

he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. “could happen. you never know. world’s fucked.”

you roll your eyes but smile. “well, i’m fine. just getting ready for the gig.”

“yeah, i can see that.” his voice dips lower without meaning to. “you look…” he pauses, tongue running over his teeth, trying to sound casual but it comes out rough. “fuck, you look hot as hell.”

you blink, heat crawling up your neck. “you think so?”

he nods, still rubbing his neck, eyes locked on you. “yeah. like, real talk, y/n, you’re gonna make it hard to focus tonight. literally everyone’s gonna be staring.”

you laugh, a little flustered. “you’re just saying that.”

“nah,” he says, finally walking into your room. “not just sayin’. like, you look fuckin’ insane. good insane, tho.”

you smile, looking back at your reflection, fixing your earring. “thanks, cho.”

he drops down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “you mind if i chill here? watch the whole… transformation process?”

“be my guestt!” you say, turning back to your mirror.

he leans back on his hands, watching you move. your drawers open, mascara wand twirling between your fingers, your skirt swishing when you shift. the music in your airpods leaks just enough for him to catch the rhythm.

he tries to stay cool, keeps that lazy look on his face, but his heart’s still pounding from the moment he saw you. his head’s full of too many things, practice, suguru’s voice, your laugh, the sound of his name coming from you.

after a minute, he says, “we gotta leave in, like, an hour. gojo’s picking up suguru and toji, you wanna ride with me or get there yourself?”

you turn around, surprised. “oh, i can come with you?”

“course,” he says, shrugging. “beats paying for parking. you'll be abit early is all.”

you grin. “then yeah, i’ll come with you, doesn't matter to me, cho.”

“aight,” he says, stretching his legs out, smirking just a little. “sweet.”

he’s quiet for a while after that. you keep getting ready, music still faintly playing, the smell of your perfume thick in the air. he fiddles with the ring on his thumb, his mind replaying suguru’s words like static.

she’s a great fuck, obedient and tight as hell.

she thinks i’m some fuckin’ saint.

maybe he’s some sick cuck.

the words crawl under his skin. he can’t stop hearing them, can’t stop imagining the look on your face if you knew.

he shifts, sits up straighter. “hey,” he says suddenly.

you hum in response, focused on your eyeliner.

“can i ask you somethin’?”

“sure.”

“what’s the deal with you and geto?”

you pause mid-stroke. “what do you mean?”

he shrugs like it’s no big deal. “just… what are you two, exactly? like, are you dating or is it just some hookup thing?”

you blink at his reflection in the mirror, half-smiling. “why, you gonna make fun of me again for last night?”

he shakes his head. “nah. i’m serious.”

something about his tone makes you turn fully, leaning against your dresser. “oh. um…” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “i don’t know. i mean, i like him a lot. we hang out, we… yeah. i guess we’re dating? hes never actually said it, but it sure feels like it.”

he stares at you for a long moment, his chest tightening.

“you guess?”

“yeah.” you laugh softly, awkward. “he’s not, like, big on labels, i think. but we spend time together. he’s nice to me. i like being with him.”

choso nods slowly, but his face doesn’t change. “right. 'nice to you.'”

you frown, studying him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he looks away, picking at a loose thread on your blanket. “nothin’. just… didn’t figure him for the relationship type.”

“why not?” you ask, voice soft but curious.

he shrugs again, lazy like always, though his voice is heavier now. “he’s just… not the kinda guy who stays still, y’know? always got somethin’ else goin’ on. kinda hard to picture him with one person.”

you tilt your head. “you sound like you know him better than i do.”

“maybe i do,” he mutters.

“then tell me,” you say quietly. “should i be worried?”

his jaw tightens. he doesn’t answer right away. he wants to tell you, wants to let it spill out, the whole disgusting thing he heard at practice, the way suguru laughed about you like you were nothing but a story to pass around. it’s right there, sitting heavy on his tongue.

but when he looks at you, soft eyes, hopeful little smile, the way you look at him like he’s safe, he feels sick.

you’re too good for it. too sweet. too fucking naive to see how much he’s playing you, and he can’t stand the idea of being the one to shatter it.

“cho?” you ask gently.

he blinks. “yeah.”

“what were you gonna say?”

he opens his mouth, ready to just do it, to tell you everything, to ruin whatever fantasy you’ve built around suguru, but then your phone lights up on the dresser.

suguru calling.

you both look at it.

your heart jumps a little, that reflexive smile pulling at your lips. you grab the phone, swiping to answer. “hey.”

choso watches you, expression unreadable. your voice softens instantly, your tone sweet and familiar in a way that makes his stomach twist.

“yeah, i’m just getting ready,” you say, turning slightly away from him. “mhm… yeah, i’ll see you there, choso's driving me.”

his fingers drum against his knee. your voice is quiet now, almost a whisper. he can’t hear the words, only the ton, light, careful, like you’re trying not to say the wrong thing.

you laugh at something he says, that little laugh that used to be his favorite sound in the world.

and something in choso deflates.

he stands slowly, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. your perfume still hangs in the air, heavy and warm.

“hey,” you say, glancing at him mid-call, mouthing, one sec, before turning back.

he nods, grabbing his keys from your desk where he’d dropped them.

you’re still talking, giggling now, saying something about how you’ll be there soon. he heads for the door.

“yeah,” you murmur into the phone. “love you too.”

his steps falter for half a second, then keep going.

the door clicks shut behind him, quiet.

you love him? god, how could he tell you after hearing that...

~

the venue’s already packed when you and choso pull up. neon bleeds across the cracked pavement, the sound of bass leaking through the concrete.

you can feel the pull of the crazy fans even from the street. drunk laughter, the sharp scent of cigarette smoke, someone yelling over someone else.

choso kills the engine and leans back in the driver’s seat for a second, watching people shuffle in through the side door. the light outside hits his face in flashes. pale, pink, blue, he’s fading between moods.

“you ready?” he asks, voice low, lazy, but you can hear something else under it.

“yeah,” you say, adjusting your skirt, checking your lip gloss in the visor mirror.

he glances over, eyes flicking briefly down your legs before turning away again. “lookin’ like that, you’re gonna cause a fuckin’ riot, man.”

you laugh softly. “you said that earlier.”

“yeah, and i meant it both times.”

you shake your head, smilin despite yourself.

inside, it’s chaos. the place smells like sweat and beer, lights flashing in dizzy loops, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. gojo’s voice echoes somewhere backstage, already hyping people up. you follow choso through the narrow hallway, your hand brushing his arm as someone shoves past. since when was he so muscular?

“sorry,” you say automatically.

he glances back. “nah, you’re good.”

he holds the side door open, letting you through first.

the band’s gear is scattered everywhere. amps, cables, beer cans, half-empty water bottles. suguru’s there, tuning his guitar, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

when he looks up and sees you, his expression softens into that easy smile that always used to make your stomach twist.

“hey, pretty thing,” he says, walking over.

choso looks away, jaw tight.

“hey,” you say quietly, leaning up to kiss him. his hand slips to your waist, the kiss short but a little too public, a little too look-at-me.

“you made it,” he murmurs.

“told you i would.”

behind you, gojo’s laugh cuts through the noise. “yo, choso, you finally dragged n/n outta her cave!”

choso smirks. “yeah, figured she could use a little culture.”

“culture, huh?” gojo grins at you. “hope you’re ready for noise complaints and groupies.”

“i’ll manage,” you say, smiling.

toji doesn’t look up from his bass, just gives a small nod in greeting. the whole room buzzes with the kind of pre-show tension you can feel in your teeth.

everyone’s running on nerves and caffeine and whatever else they’ve put in their systems.

choso tosses his hoodie onto a crate, rolling up his sleeves. he looks good like that, focused, hair half-tied, a strand falling over his cheek. he’s calm but sharp now, a different kind of energy from the stoned version of him you’re used to. the one who drifts through mornings in smoke.

“five minutes,” someone calls out from the stage manager’s booth.

you hover near the wall, watching them all get into place. gojo bounces on his heels, suguru spins his pick between his fingers, toji stays silent. choso’s behind his kit, tapping his sticks against the snare like he’s talking to it.

the crowd roars as the lights dim.

you press closer to the side of the stage, the bass vibrating through your shoes.

gojo’s voice hits the mic, smooth and arrogant. “we’re exorcize. don’t fucking blink.”

the first chord screams through the room, and everything shifts.

the sound is huge. overwhelming. suguru’s guitar cuts clean through the noise, toji’s bass a low pulse under it all, and then choso, he owns that rhythm. every hit lands deep, every movement controlled but raw, like he’s drumming out something that’s been living under his skin for years.

you seriously can’t take your eyes off of him.

he’s sweat-slick already, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. the lights flash white, then red, then blue across his face. every motion is deliberate, steady, like he’s trying to stay anchored in something only he can hear.

and even though the crowd’s losing their minds, it feels like it’s just him and the sound.

you glance at suguru. he looks good too, cool, collected, confident. but next to choso, he feels out of place, like a performative douche you knew deep down he was.

your chest squeezes together. you look back at choso.

there’s something odd in the way he plays tonight. like he’s exorcising something, (no pun intended.) every strike on the snare is much louder, almost angry and harsh. you ponder if it’s just adrenaline or if something happened earlier?.

when the first song ends, the crowd screams. gojo throws his head back, grinning, shouting into the mic. “holy shit! you guys showed up tonight!”

choso stays quiet, twirling his sticks, taking a long drink of water. his eyes flick toward the side of the stage, toward you.

you smile.

he doesn’t. just nods once, small, subtle, before looking away. the next song starts before you can think about it too long.

you dance a little, lost in it, letting the music carry you. but somewhere in the back of your head, you can feel his stare again. quick glances between beats, the way his gaze lingers just a second too long before he looks back down.

and for the first time, you realize you’re not sure which one of you it’s harder for.

by the time the set ends, you’re breathless from the noise, your voice hoarse from shouting. the band leaves the stage to cheers, sweat-soaked and buzzing. gojo’s the first to collapse backstage, laughing.

“we killed that shit,” he says, half-yelling.

“yeah, not bad,” toji mutters, towel over his head.

suguru grins, walking straight toward you. “told you we’d put on a good show.”

you nod, heart still racing. “you were amazing.”

he leans in to kiss you again, and you let him, even though your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second, to choso. he’s wiping sweat from his forehead, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the floor.

suguru pulls back, arm still around your waist. “so, you coming to the afterparty?”

you hesitate. “uh, yeah, i think so.”

“good.” he kisses your temple, then turns toward gojo to talk about something.

you stand there for a second, unsure of what to do with your hands. the noise of the room fills the space between you and choso. he finally looks up, trying to push aside the guilt he still felt for not being able to man up and tell you about suguru.

you smile, small and tired. “you were insane up there.”

he laughs, strong yet humorless, the phrase 'love you too' still haunting his every thought. “yeah? thanks.”

“no, really. i couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile but doesn’t trust himself to. “yeah, well… guess i did my job.”

you step closer, voice soft. “you okay?”

he nods, eyes flicking briefly toward suguru, then back at you. “yeah. just… beat.”

you nod too, not sure what else to say. gojo yells something about shots, suguru laughs, and the night keeps moving around you.

but in the middle of all of it, you and choso stand there for a second, caught between the noise and the silence. like the whole night’s holding its breath, waiting to see which one of you breaks first.

~

the afterparty’s at some half-finished warehouse space two blocks from the venue, the kind of place that smells like spilled beer, sweat, and old amps. led lights are strung along exposed pipes, blinking unevenly. someone’s blasting music from a bluetooth speaker that keeps cutting out.

you walk in first, suguru’s hand laced with yours, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. you look good under the dim light, like you belong there, like you’re glowing even in the noise and haze.

choso follows behind, slower, his hoodie unzipped and hair sticking slightly to his forehead. he already smells of weed; he’d lit up the second they left the venue.

people yell greetings, offer shots, hugs, congratulations. gojo’s already got his arm around two people he definitely doesn’t know, yelling about how they fucking killed it tonight. toji’s slouched near a speaker, scrolling through his phone like none of this matters.

suguru doesn’t let go of you. not once. he keeps you close, leaning down every so often to murmur something in your ear that makes you laugh. he’s magnetic in these settings. composed, charming, eyes sharp enough to make anyone feel seen.

choso sits on a couch near the edge of the room, elbow draped over the back, watching through half-lidded eyes.

you look happy.

and for a minute, that’s enough.

he takes a drag, holds it, exhales slow. watches the smoke drift toward the ceiling. you’re laughing at something suguru said, your head tipped back, eyes bright.

he can almost convince himself it’s fine.

you’re happy. maybe that’s all that matters.

but he can’t stop remembering the way suguru talked earlier at the studio, voice low, that half-smirk twisting his mouth as he said your name like it was something to toss away. you lean up and kiss suguru’s cheek, whisper something. he nods, still holding your waist.

“gonna go fix my makeup,” you say, smiling. “don’t move.”

he smirks. “not going anywhere, princess.”

you squeeze his hand and disappear down the hallway. choso takes another drag. exhales through his nose, slow. for a few seconds, suguru just stands there. then, like someone flipped a switch, his attention shifts.

choso notices it instantly, the way suguru’s gaze catches on someone across the room. tall girl. dark hair. red lipstick. she’s leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to some guy with a drink in her hand.

choso knows her. everyone does. she used to hang around the studio all the time. suguru’s old fling. the one he’d bragged about, laughed about, talked about like she was a good story, just like you. his shoulders tense.

suguru drifts over. slowly. easy. one hand tucked in his pocket, the other reaching for a drink as he greets her.

she smiles like she’s been waiting.

he says something that makes her laugh, that same sexy smile sliding across his face, the same one he used when he looked at you five minutes ago. choso stares at them, heartbeat starting to pick up, jaw tightening around the joint.

he can’t hear what they’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. he can read the body language, the subtle lean, the flirtatious tilt of her head, suguru’s gross smile.

the same old shitty act.

he feels something stir in his chest, something dark and heavy. he looks toward the hallway, half expecting you to come back. you don’t.

he looks at suguru again, and his mouth moves before his brain can stop it. oh well.

“yo.”

his voice cuts through the music, quiet but sharp.

suguru glances over his shoulder. “hmm?”

choso’s still on the couch, but his tone’s much differnt, “you maybe wanna get your shit in order before y/n gets back?”

the girl looks baffled, stares between them, then takes a step back (yeah that's right).

suguru raises an eyebrow. “huh?”

choso leans forward, elbows on his knees, smoke curling around his fingers. “you heard me.”

the room feels quieter even though the music’s still playing.

suguru laughs once, soft, incredulous. “you serious right now?”

“deadass.”

he looks away for a second, shakes his head like he’s amused. “you’re high, choso.”

“not that high.” choso stands up, slow and deliberate. “i just don’t like watching you act like a fuckin’ idiot when she’s not even gone five minutes.”

suguru’s jaw tightens, that calm exterior starting to crack just a little. “what’s it to you?”

“what’s it to me?” choso echoes, stepping closer. “she’s my roommate, dumbass. i actually give a shit if she gets hurt.”

“roommate,” suguru repeats, his smirk returning. “that what we’re calling it?”

“yeah,” choso says flatly. “that’s what we’re calling it.”

suguru laughs again, but it’s sharper this time. “come on, man. don’t tell me you’re getting protective. that’s cute.”

choso doesn’t smile. doesn’t scoff. “just don’t be the asshole i know you can be, yeah?”

for a second, something flickers behind suguru’s eyes. annoyance, maybe? guilt. or nothing at all. he looks away, taking a sip of his drink. “you don’t know what you think you know, choso.”

“nah,” choso says quietly. “i know exactly what i heard.”

suguru’s gaze snaps back to him. “what?”

“the studio,” choso says, voice steady. “you should watch you have to get more toilet paper what you say when you think nobody’s listening to you talk shit.”

suguru freezes, for a long moment, neither of them move.

then suguru laughs again softly, controlled. “you think you know what that was about.”

“don’t need to think,” choso says. “you said it clear as day.”

“she’s a big girl,” suguru says after a pause, voice low. “she can handle herself.”

choso’s eyes narrow. “you mean she trusts you. that’s not the same thing.” suguru doesn’t respond.

choso takes another step forward, close enough now that the smell of smoke and alcohol mixes between them. “if you don’t give a fuck about her, fine. just don’t stand here pretending you do.”

suguru finally looks up, eyes darker now. “you done?”

choso lets out a dry laugh. “mm. guess i am.”

he steps back, drops the joint into an empty cup, and turns toward the hallway, he almost bumps into you.

you’re back, smiling, oblivious, still glowing from the night. “hey, what’d i miss?”

both men go still.

suguru’s mask snaps back on instantly, smile smooth and easy. “nothing, babe. just talking band shit.” you nod, glancing between them. choso’s eyes are hard to read. too calm, too quiet. you loop your arm through suguru’s. “oh! okay. drinks?”

“yeah,” he says, kissing your temple. “let’s get you one.” he leads you toward the kitchen, the two of you slipping back into the party’s pulse.

choso stays where he is, arms crossed, jaw tight. from across the room, he watches as suguru hands you a drink, laughs at something you say, leans in close like nothing happened.

and for the first time in a long time, choso feels the kind of anger that doesn’t burn out, it just settles. slow, deep, and quiet.

he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his lighter, flicks it once, twice. the flame dances for a second before he shuts it off.

he takes a breath.

then another.

the music swells again, the noise swallowing everything.

and still, all he can hear is suguru’s laugh and the echo of his own restraint cracking, one hairline fracture at a time.

.

a few hours later

choso doesn’t mean to, really.

but the tight, burning knot in his chest, the one suguru’s smirk planted there, the one that grew watching him flirt with that old girl, the one that pulsed every time he saw your smile linger on suguru instead of him. fuck, it’s unbearable.

he’s been quiet, slow, keeping that lazy, half-asleep stoner mask on, puffing on his joint like everything’s fine. but it isn’t. it never has been.

he promised. always promised. no pills, no hardcore shit. just weed. the band worried enough about him already, addiction has always been a shadow he could never quite shake, and they knew if he went deeper, it’d swallow him.

but now, standing in the pulsing warehouse light, the noise vibrating up through his shoes, the alcohol and smoke thick in the air, he’s feeling something foreign. anger. jealousy. raw heat that makes his chest ache and stomach twist.

“yo, kamo,” he hears a guy drop down next to him, some old friend from college, he's leaning in. “nice to see you man. it's been ages."

choso just nods along, letting the guy talk about whatever he thinks is so important, his ears only really peeking up when the guy says, "you look like you need somethin’ a lil stronger.”

choso looks at him, slow. “mm, like what.”

the guy holds out a small baggie. pills, little white caps. “just some party shit. everyone here's doing it."

choso stares. his promise to the band, to you, floats somewhere in the back of his head , only weed, nothing heavier.

you'd all told him how addictive he could get, how dipping his feet into any sort of hardcore drugs wouldn't turn out great for him.

he takes the bag anyway. too pissed if to give a shit about anything other than numbing what he's feeling. "yeah, alright.”

“sweet,” the guy says, handing him a drink to wash it down.

the high hit him slow at first, a gentle fog wrapping itself around his chest, legs, fingers. choso felt the kind of calm that usually made him drift through a morning on the couch, hoodie loose, blunt tucked behind his ear.

but tonight, it was different. it hit like a wave he couldn’t ride without tumbling. and the warehouse, sticky, crowded, glowing in neon and sweat, was the perfect storm for it.

he wandered through the party, each step lazy, like he was moving through molasses, yet every sense screamed sharper than usual. the bassline rattled his chest, people’s voices blurred into a constant hum, the smell of booze, perfume, and sweat mixing into a heady cloud.

he took another long drag from his joint, holding the smoke, letting it curl around him, thinking it might shield him from the gnawing coil in his stomach, but it didn’t. not really.

“hey, choso,” a familiar voice broke through the haze. a fan, a girl maybe nineteen or twenty, pressed forward with wide eyes and a camera phone. “can we… like, take a pic? i love your band, dude, you’re insane on drums..

choso blinked slowly, the effects of the drug tangling with his words. “ahh, yeah… fuckin’ yeah, for sure.” he motioned lazily to the spot, half-smile tugging at his mouth. he let the girl snap a few pictures, asked her dumb little questions, about the band, gigs, where they got the idea for that last song, and he answered, voice drawling and thick, slurring words just slightly.

every few minutes, though, his gaze flicked back to you. and every time, there you were. pressed against suguru, who had that impossible grin plastered on his face, thumb brushing your hip while making conversation with someone else. choso’s stomach twisted. you weren’t tense. you laughed at something suguru said, head tilted back, but his ja tight.

and then he noticed it. suguru’s eyes, dark and dirty, sweeping across the room, lingering on every passing girl with a flash of that smug, possessive look. choso felt something sour bloom inside him, disgust. jealousy. something he hadn’t felt in a long time, something sharp and alien.

he sucked in a long drag of his joint, letting it burn down slowly, but the warmth didn’t soothe him. the high pressed against the raw edges of his chest, amplifying the foreign heat that bubbled with every glance suguru threw.

the way his lips curved slightly at you, and yet his eyes traveld over the figure of every passer by, made choso’s fingers itch to smash something, anything.

and then it happened. a girl, tall, laughing, hair loose over her shoulders, crossed the warehouse floor, and suguru’s gaze latched onto her, heavier than he had been doing.

just like that, he leaned down slightly to you, whispered something, and before choso could register it, suguru excused himself.

"gonna step out for a bit,” he said smoothly, voice low, eyes catching choso’s once before he disappeared through the side door.

you watched him go, smiling like it was nothing. like you didn’t notice the tension he left behind.

choso’s lips parted slightly, and for the first time tonight, he felt some clarity in the chaos, the haze, the crowd, the thrum of the bass, all of it funneled into one magnetic point: you.

he made his way through the crowd, knees a little wobbly, mind thick and messy with high thoughts, each step pulling him closer to you.

when he reached you, he leaned against the wall beside the couch, blinking slowly, trying to anchor himself despite his brain telling him to just spout nonsense.

“yo,” he said, voice low, a lazy drawl that was already fraying at the edges. “hey… hey you- you look… fuck, you look like, like somethin’ really fuckin’ hot. like, goddamn, don’t even, don’t even talk, just stand there, yeah?”

you looked at him, frowning slightly. his eyes were glassy, unfocused, but they held a sharp, almost wild intensity.

“cho… did you..? what did you take?” you asked carefully, voice low, hands resting lightly on the couch back. “you’re really high right now, aren’t you?”

he blinked slowly, shaking his head, hair falling into his face. “nah… nah, it’s… just… the whole place… it’s like, fuck, it’s like the world’s spinning.”

he ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting to you, then back toward the doorway where suguru had disappeared. “man, I swear, every time I look… he’s lookin’… like, fuck, like he’s owning somethin’ that’s mine. not yours, mine.”

you frowned, stepping closer. “cho… slow down. breathe. you’re not making sense.”

“sense? ha!” he laughed, sharp and hoarse. “fuck sense, you’re… you’re standin’ there, and I’m… I’m, shit, I’m like, all these fuckin’ feelings,” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you, voice cracking a little with the intensity.

“cho,” you said softly, moving to grab his arm, trying to steady him. “look at me. what did you take?”

he shook his head violently, sitting down on the edge of the couch, hands tugging at his hoodie strings. “nah… nah, can’t… fuck, can’t tell. you'll be mad at me. but you… you’re like… god, you’re fuckin’ everywhere in my head.”

you bit your lip, exhaling through your nose, letting a faint groan of frustration escape. “hey… listen to me. you’re too high. you’re spiraling. it’s not healthy. come on… we’re going home.”

he blinked up at you, expression softening slightly, but the haze still clouded his gaze. “home?” he muttered, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “fuck… home. yeah, yeah, you… you’re home.”

you knelt beside him, voice gentle but firm. “yeah. c’mon, we’re leaving, you're fucking soaring.”

he blinked at you, then laughed softly, a little shaky. “you… you’re fuckin’ bossy, y’know that? like… goddamn, bossy as hell… I fuckin' like it. I like it a lot.”

you shook your head, smirking despite yourself. “yeah, well, bossy is gonna save your ass tonight. now get up.” you extended a hand. he took it slowly, fingers brushing yours, gripping tightly for a moment.

as you led him through the crowd, you leaned slightly toward gojo, speaking over your shoulder. “hey, tell geto I’m leaving for the night. also tell him not to come over later.”

gojo’s grin faltered slightly, but he raised a hand in mock salute. “yeah, yeah. whatever.”

you didn’t answer, just kept walking, guiding choso toward the side door. the night air hit him like a splash, sharp and cold, clearing some of the fog from his mind. he shivered, pulling the hoodie tighter around himself, looking at you with wide, almost pleading eyes.

“fuck, it’s… it’s cold out here,” he muttered, voice rough. “but… yeah, fuck… you smell, like… everything good.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling, tugging gently on his arm. “c'mon, get in the car you big baby.”

he followed, shuffling along beside you, shoulders hunched, hands fumbling with the hem of his hoodie. he let you guide him into the passenger seat of his sleek black mercedes, heat and regret and longing pressing together as you let go of his arm.

“yo… you know,” he said suddenly, voice low and rough, “I… I like you. fuckin’… like… goddamn, like really, really… yeah.”

you glanced at him, surprised, hand resting lightly on his arm. “cho… you don't know what you're saying,” you said softly, voice steady. “now let’s just get you home before you do anything stupid.”

he grinned, shaky but wide, and leaned slightly into you as you guided him along the sidewalk. “yeah… yeah, okay… home… yeah… but fuck, I swear… I swear, I’m like… all my feelings… all of ‘em… you’re fuckin’… yeah, you’re it.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. you were starting to get really anxious. he's ever like this, never so open, never so talkative. “you're high. i don't want to hear any more of this nonsense, okay?”

~

you open the door to your apartment with a slightly more sober choso trailing behind you. normally, it was warm here, soft, your little refuge from the chaos of the outside world. tonight it was cold, unfamiliar, as if every object, the counter, the fridge, the chipped mug in the sink, was holding its breath.

choso was already inside, leaning against the kitchen bench, sleeves rolled up, hair falling into his eyes.

normally, even high, he was lazy, drifting. tonight he was… heavier. darker. like every beat of his pulse carried some of the tension from the warehouse, every breath filled with something raw, sharp, desperate.

“cho?” your voice was soft, tentative, as you stepped closer. the door clicked shut behind you and the sound seemed louder than it should have been. he didn’t answer at first, just watched you, eyes glassy but unblinking, half-shadowed in the dim light.

then he moved. suddenly, decisively. one long step forward, and he was close enough that you felt the heat from him, smelled the faint mix of weed, sweat, and his cologne. before you could react, he caught your wrist and guided you toward the counter, pressing you lightly against it.

“hey,” he murmured, low, rough, voice shaking just slightly. “don’t… don’t move. just… just listen.”

you froze, pulse jumping. normally he was lazy, teasing, stoner-lazy. not like this, not intense, not… commanding in that way that made your lower stomach tighten.

“choso—” you started, but he silenced you with a sharp glance, his eyes flicking up to yours, desperate, pleading.

“i… i’ve been keeping something from you,” he said, voice tight. “something stupid. something i should’ve… fuck, should’ve told you about a long time ago.”

you swallowed, your heart picking up. “hmm?… what is it?”

he exhaled slowly, hands brushing against the edge of the counter near your hips, close but not overbearing, just there enough that you felt trapped in the tension he carried.

“it’s… it’s about… suguru,” he said, jaw tightening. his voice caught in his throat for a second, then he pushed through. “about all the… shit he’s said. about you, y/n.”

your stomach dropped. what the hell was he talking about? he was clearly fucked out of his mind, slurring his words as his jaw twitched. you wanted to put him to sleep, tell him to calm down, but he looked too controlling, like he'd explode if he didn't get this out.

“suguru, he… he talks about you like you’re nothing,” choso continued, hands tightening around the edge of the counter as if he needed the anchor. “like… like he’s the only one with a right to… to even fucking look at you. he… he laughed, y/n. we were at the studio, and... he said, he said such shitty things about you."

your breath caught as he leaned in closer. "l-like what?..."

"shit... he said that he likes you because you’re obedient, you're 'tight as hell', a good fuck, like you’re… like you’re just… I don’t even know, a thing for him to screw. and then—”

he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, dark eyes flicking to yours. “—then, tonight, while you were in the bathroom, doing your makeup, he went straight to his old fling, the girl he used to bang and brag about, just… just to… to prove something. he looked me dead in the eye. like he was… like he’s proud of it.”

you felt your throat tighten. your hands gripped the counter instinctively. “oh choso... i'm sorry you had to hear all of that… i—”

“no, no,” he cut you off, urgency flashing. “don’t you fucking start apologizing. don’t. you didn’t do anything. it’s all him. it’s… it’s just… i hate him. i fucking hate him, y/n.”

his voice was raw, breaking a little on the last word.

the smoke curling around him made him look sharper somehow, the dim light accentuating the edges of his face, the dark lines under his eyes. you’d never seen him like this. vulnerable, angry, but also… unflinchingly honest.

“choso... he's your band mate, i know what he did to me was shitty, but don't let that ruin your relationship with him... cmon…” your voice was quiet, unsure. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to comfort him or run. your chest hurt at the honesty in his voice.

“no. i don't care, y/n... and that’s not the worst part,” he said, leaning just a little closer, hands still on the counter, gaze locked on yours.

“the worst part is… i can’t—i can’t stop thinking about it. about him touching you, talking about you, laughing at the way he’s—fuck, i don’t even know. it makes me… it makes me feel like i’m losing my mind. like my chest is… i don’t know, ripping in two.”

your lips parted slightly, unsure what to say. his usual lazy, stoner-laden grin was gone. this was… desperate. needy. almost like he couldn’t stand not saying it out loud.

he was slurring his words, looking frantic.

“and i… i want to—” he paused, swallowed, voice rough, low. “i want to tell you… that i’d never… i’d never do that. not to you. not like him. not even close. you… you’re too good, too… i don’t… fuck. you’re not like that. and i… i like you, y/n.”

the words hit harder than you expected. you’d thought he was joking before, rambling high, maybe even teasing. but this… this was different. he was standing close, breathing uneven, heart thudding in his chest, eyes pleading, and you realised, he meant it.

“choso…” you whispered. you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, your chest tight. “you… you mean that?”

“yeah,” he said, a harsh exhale of smoke escaping his lips. “i mean it. i’ve liked you for so long, and i… fuck, i just… kept it buried. kept it lazy, kept it… i don’t know, hidden. i didn’t wanna make it weird, or fuck things up. but tonight… tonight i saw everything. you with him. and i couldn’t hold it anymore.”

he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. his hand lingered, trembling slightly. “you're... you're really special to me, y’know? not like… possessive or some shit. just… like… i need you. i need you to know i don’t want anyone else doing what he did. talking about you like that. looking at you like that. not ever."

you bit your lip, heart racing, conflicted. the intensity of his confession, the anger at suguru, the neediness, it was… a lot.

you didn’t know how to feel. your body was leaning slightly into him, the pull of him against you magnetic, but your mind was spinning. suguru. choso. confusion and lust and relief all knotted together.

"why are you just telling me this now...?" you ask, shyly as he inches closer, grabbing your jaw and holding it loose.

"because i'm off my fucking face, y/n."

it was sudden, and you even giggled. because he was right. sober choso, stoned choso, he'd never been this open, never this vulnerable.

"... i don't know what to say, this is all so— fuck— it's so sudden. what am i supposed to do about suguru..." you ask, he closes his eyes and responds with his forehead pressed to yours.

"if i had it my way... you'd block his ass, never speak to the mother fucker again, and spend your nights wrapped up in my bed, instead of his. letting me take care of things, keeping you close so you'd know i was yours, asking you out like a proper fucking guy. not using you like some sort of pocket pussy."

that hit. because that's all you'd ever really wanted from someone. companionship, love, the kind of respect you just didn't feel from suguru no matter how many times you'd try make yourself think you did.

he finally let go of your face and stepped back, rubbing his hands down his own thighs like he needed the grounding. “c’mon,” he muttered, voice rough, low. “bed. i… i just wanna… be near you. just… lie down, okay?”

you nodded, still unsure, heart pounding, but the pull was magnetic. his bed was just down the hall, soft, slightly messy, with a blanket he probably hadn’t folded in days.

normally he was too stoner-lazy to care about anything resembling organization, but tonight the bed felt like a sanctuary. he moved ahead of you, swaying a little, still fumbling with his hoodie, and you followed, careful not to trip over the rug in the hallway.

once inside, he lowered himself onto the mattress with a groan that was half frustration, half relief. he patted the space beside him, a small, awkward gesture but charged with meaning. “get in here,” he said, voice soft now, almost pleading. “just… be here. with me.”

you perched at the edge for a moment, looking down at him. he looked vulnerable in the way you hadn’t seen before—high and open, yet completely raw. then, slowly, you slid in beside him.

he shifted slightly, making room, then wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. your head rested lightly against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, the soft heat of his skin beneath your cheek.

“fuck… you feel good,” he murmured, voice thick and rough. “like… like everything i’ve been waiting for, all at once. i… i don’t want to move,"

you exhaled softly, heart hammering. “i’m here,” you whispered. “i won’t go anywhere.”

he pressed his face into your hair, a quiet groan escaping him, not sexual, not demanding, just… relief. he was holding onto you like no one's business, like proximity to you was the only thing keeping him tethered.

“i… i fucked up tonight,” he said, voice muffled against your hair. “i know… i was all over the place. off my face. but… you gotta know… i meant everything i said. every word. you’re the only one i want to be… like… close to. like this.”

you shifted a little, looking up at him. the sharp, high tension in his face had softened, replaced by a mixture of haze, exhaustion, and longing. “cho… i get it,” you murmured. “you don’t have to explain anymore. just… be here.”

you let yourself sink against him, chest pressed to his, but your mind was a storm. part of you was still sharp, aching with betrayal. the thought of suguru’s words, his casual cruelty, it stung, too fresh to be jumping into anything emotionally taxing as of now.

it left a sour taste, a tight knot in your stomach. you hated that you’d ever tried to make excuses for him, that you’d tried to convince yourself his calm exterior meant anything other than manipulation.

and yet, lying here with choso, pressed close to him, his warmth and his raw honesty wrapping around you, it felt like a shield. the tension, the anger, the hurt—they softened at the edges, dulled by the simple fact that he was here. that he wasn’t pretending. he wasn’t playing games. he didn’t want to own you—he just wanted you near, wanted to take care of you in the quietest, simplest way.

your chest warmed despite the lingering anger, the betrayal still gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. and yet, in this space, tangled together, pressed close in the dim glow of his bedroom, you could let yourself be content. content with the one person who’d always been honest with you, who’d finally shown you exactly how much he cared.

for now, that was all you needed.

~

the weeks had slipped past since you’d messaged geto to fuck off. you hadn’t spoken to him since that curt text, and honestly, it was quieter than you’d expected. no drama, no confrontations, just the dull ache of his absence.

the apartment felt calmer for it, too. you and choso hadn’t talked about that night, about the confession, the intensity, the things he’d admitted, but it hovered in the space between you like a low hum, unspoken but insistent.

and slowly, almost imperceptibly, a rhythm emerged. mornings were quiet, coffee mugs and peeling toast and sleepy smiles. afternoons slipped by on the couch, half-watching a show, half-dozing, your knees brushing against his.

evenings smelled like takeout and weed, music humming in the background as he sprawled lazily on the carpet, drumsticks idly tapping against his legs.

there were moments where it almost tipped, where the electricity between you made your fingers tremble and your stomach twist. a brush of hands in the kitchen, a shared laugh over something dumb on your phone, and for a heartbeat it felt like you could collapse into each other right then and there.

but choso was careful. patient. giving you space to breathe, letting the sting of geto fade, even as his gaze lingered longer than it probably should. he still wanted you close, but he held himself back, letting you set the pace. only on your own terms would he get close, letting you slip into his bed when you got lonely, letting him rub your back when things got stressful. the little things.

the band had its own tension.

practices had become sharper, more pointed, the edges of old frustrations showing. suguru’s sulking was more obvious these days, jaw tight, fingers always on his guitar strings like he was ready to snap at any moment.

he hadn’t forgiven you, or himself, for the way you’d just ended things. toji sighed more than usual, muttering about drama infecting the rhythm of the band.

gojo, predictably, had made it his life’s mission to tease both suguru and choso mercilessly. apparently, choso had spilled every detail from that night to him, and gojo’s sharp, smug grin had never left since.

“yo, cho,” gojo called during a rehearsal break, plopping onto the bass amp with a lazy flop. “have you swooped her up yet? any new updates on your little scheme to make her your play thing?"

choso’s eyes flicked up from the drumkit, one stick lazily twirling in his fingers. “shut the fuck up, gojo. that's not what i'm doing,” he said, voice flat but amused, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

he was back to his usual rhythm now. easy, teasing, present, but the underlying tension in the studio hung there anyway, like the air before a storm.

suguru scowled from the corner, tuning his guitar obsessively. “idiots,” he muttered, voice sharp. “both of you.”

toji snorted. “cho’s chillin’, you're the only one sulkin' man.”

the drums hit again, slow and steady, choso’s stick tapping a rhythm into the carpeted floor.

back at the apartment, it was quieter. the city hummed outside the windows while you and choso settled into something gentle, unspoken, almost tender.

one night, he was sprawled on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head, knees bent, and you were perched at the edge, flipping through a magazine. your hands brushed, his fingers lingered just a little longer than necessary as he gazed into your eyes like a man starved, the pull was undeniable.

“choso… we shouldn't just…ignore it.” you started, heart hammering.

he cut you off with a soft hum, eyes still hidden beneath the hood. “i know. but i’m… i’m trying… letting you breathe. letting you… heal first.”

your chest tightened. “it’s… it’s still weird. still raw. geto… he—”

“fuck geto,” he interrupted softly, voice low but firm. “he’s out. he’s done. i’m… here. for you. not asking for more than you can give.”

and that was enough. the rest of the night passed in quiet, soft laughter over dumb shows, slow music, the faint drumbeat from his sticks echoing against the walls.

no confessions, no admissions, just presence and the weight of his calm, steady warmth.

practices were intense now. the band had a gig coming up, the biggest they’d ever do. every session was longer, every riff tighter, every cymbal crash deliberate.

choso’s drumming drove the rhythm, his usual lazy charisma replaced by a quiet focus, punctuated by moments of laziness where he’d just lean into the kick drum and let the beat flow through him.

and through it all, you were there with choso. kitchen chats between sessions, lounging on the couch while he absentmindedly tapped his sticks on your coffee table, brushing against your knees when you passed by.

the apartment was your sanctuary and your battlefield, tension and warmth coexisting, your bodies close but boundaries carefully observed as you'd talk about everything.

"so, will i see you at the gig?"

"duh. i'll be front row screaming your name."

god, he wishes you would scream his.

~

the venue pulsed with energy. bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with sweat, smoke, and anticipation.

you could feel the bass thumping through the soles of your boots before the band even came on. a low chant started somewhere in the crowd—ex-or-cize, ex-or-cize, ex-or-cize—and spread fast, a heartbeat made of strangers.

you were front and center, caught in the current of people, hands gripping the barricade. your chest was tight, a knot of nerves and excitement wound together. this was their biggest gig yet—bigger venue, bigger crowd, the kind of show that could push them up a tier.

the lights went low. a hush fell. and then gojo’s voice hit the mic, clear and cocky, dripping with that smug grin you knew even without seeing it.

“alright, alright, you sexy motherfuckers,” he drawled, drawing out every syllable. “we’re exorcize, and we came to make your night filthy.”

the crowd erupted. lights flashed red, then white, smoke rolling over the stage. suguru stepped up first, guitar slung low, hair slicked back, jaw set tight.

toji followed, head down, fingers flexing around the neck of his bass.

choso came last, sliding onto the stool behind his drumkit, sticks already spinning between his fingers. the moment he sat, everything in the room seemed to lock into rhythm.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

the set kicked off hard; gojo’s voice raw and teasing, suguru’s guitar slicing through the noise, toji’s bass thick and grounding. but choso… god, choso was something else entirely.

his body moved with the rhythm like he was the rhythm. sweat already glistened at his temples, hair falling into his eyes as he leaned into each beat. his arms flexed with every strike, the muscles shifting beneath the fabric of his tee, drumsticks flashing in the lights.

it was hypnotic. enticing. you felt it low in your stomach, that steady pulse syncing with his.

geto was there, of course. you’d spotted him near the sound booth, head low, arms crossed, pretending he didn’t care. the sight of him twisted something sharp in you at first, but it faded fast, burned away by the heat rising from the stage.

because when choso hit that first solo, nothing else mattered. not the press of bodies, not the alcohol hiring your tounge, and definitely not suguru geto.

he tilted his head back slightly, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as his hands blurred.

you’d seen him play before, countless times —but this was different. this was him, stripped down, alive. raw talent and rhythm and restraint all breaking loose in front of a crowd that screamed his name.

and you were screaming it too.

every cymbal crash sent a jolt through you. every roll of his shoulders, every flick of his wrist made your breath hitch. your fingers gripped the barricade harder as heat coiled low in your belly. you couldn’t stop watching him. didn’t want to.

gojo grinned into the mic between songs, sweat dripping down his jaw. “give it up for the best damn drummer in tokyo—my guy choso!”

the crowd roared, and you swore you saw choso’s mouth twitch into the faintest, shyest grin. his gaze swept across the crowd for a fleeting second, and when it landed on you, your stomach dropped. he saw you. he felt you.

the rest of the set blurred together, grinding guitars, crashing percussion, gojo’s voice splitting the air like lightning. when they closed out with exile mind, their heaviest song, the crowd went feral.

choso drove the final beat like he was trying to break through the floor, and when the last note hit, he threw his sticks high into the crowd. one disappeared into the sea of hands; the other bounced off the barricade and landed right in front of you.

you picked it up, clutching it tight.

the lights faded. the crowd’s roar slowly dissolved into chatter and laughter, the sound of the night spilling back into the open air. the band vanished backstage, swallowed by cables.

you slipped through the press of bodies, heart still pounding, the drumstick warm in your hand. a couple of drinks from the merch table had loosened your nerves, and you could feel a confident heat rolling low in your belly, pressing against the restraint you’d been holding onto all night.

when you found him outside—behind the venue, near the alley where the smoke from the back door curled upward—he was leaning against the wall, hoodie half-zipped, head tipped back, still catching his breath.

“you were…” your voice caught, breath slightly slurred and warm from the drinks, “holy shit, choso, you were incredible.”

his lips quirked, soft and tired. “yeah?”

“yeah.” you stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face, deliberately letting your hand linger a second longer on his chest. “i couldn’t look away. like… i don’t even have words. you sounded—” you lowered your voice, letting the warmth of the drinks give you boldness, “you sounded so good. so fucking good.”

his gaze flicked to yours, something dark and quiet sparking in it. the pull between you was immediate, electric, and you let your fingers brush his hoodie again, teasing, deliberate.

“you think so?” he asked softly, voice rougher, more ragged than usual.

you nodded, stepping closer until your body nearly pressed against his. “yeah. you made me feel it. every beat.” your lips curved into a half-smile, half-grin, letting the alcohol fuel a boldness you usually didn’t give yourself.

after weeks of pretending like there was nothing going on between you, this was definitely the breaking point.

"i couldn’t stop thinking about you, how i'm so lucky to have such a talented friend.”

he swallowed, shoulders rising, that lazy grin cracking just slightly as he stepped a fraction closer.

for a second, the air felt so thick you could barely breathe.

the back door swung open then, and gojo’s voice cut through the air.

“yo, you two!” he shouted, grinning under the streetlights. “afterparty at mine. everyone’s invited. you better show up, cho—you owe me a joint and a round of beer for that call out, man.”

choso didn’t even glance back. his gaze stayed on you, dark and intense.

you tilted your head, voice soft but teasing, letting the boldness roll over your words. “maybe skip it,” you said, hand still lightly resting against his chest. “the last afterparty didn’t go so well for you, remember?”

his laugh was low, slightly hungry, genuine. “yeah,” he murmured. “fair point.”

“come home,” you said, your body brushing against his side as you spoke, fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of his hoodie. “come home. with me.”

he hesitated a heartbeat, then exhaled, eyes softening, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“yeah. home sounds really good.”

.

as soon as the door clicked shut, the air between you ignited. his hand found the small of your back before you could even react, pulling you flush against him. your body pressed to his chest, heart hammering, pulse racing, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“fuck,” he breathed, forehead leaning to yours, voice low and rough, vibrating in your chest. “i can't take this anymore. i can't keep ignoring this.”

you swallowed, breath hitching, hands braced against his shoulders. “cho—”

he cut you off with a growl, lips brushing against your jaw as his hands slid down to grip your hips firmly, anchoring you to him. “no. fuck that. i mean it. i… i’ve been holding back everything. every word, every look, every feeling.”

your stomach fluttered, heat pooling between your thighs, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine. he tilted your chin up, eyes dark, heavy with desire and something softer, something raw and unguarded. “i can’t… can’t stand it anymore, y/n. that night, everything i said… everything i’ve wanted… i need you so badly.”

“choso…” your voice was breathless, half warning, half pleading, but your body betrayed you, leaning in closer, the tension unbearable.

he laughed, low, rough, almost a growl. “jesus, look at you. you're so fucking beautiful… i want you all to myself, all of the time. i don't know how i control myself most of the time, y/n.” his hands roamed lower, teasing the curve of your waist, thumbs brushing against the soft line of your hips.

“i need you. i’ve wanted you… every lazy, fucking long day i’ve spent here in your vicinity, it's like i can't breathe properly without you.”

your chest tightened, mind spinning, everything he’d said that night pooling back into focus—his confession, the anger at suguru, the raw truth. you’d thought it was a high, a ramble, but now… seeing him, feeling him, you knew it was real.

“ i—” you started, voice trembling, then cut yourself off as he leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours.

the kiss hit first soft, lips delicately meeting for the first time, then it grew demanding. a low growl vibrating from his chest, hands gripping your hips tighter, rolling you against him like it was the only natural motion in the universe.

you gasped, fingers tangling in the back of his hoodie, pulling him closer, feeling the press of his hardness against you, the undeniable weight of him. your body arched instinctively, pressed to his, heart hammering, chest rising and falling in sync.

“tell me,” he murmured against your lips, voice rough, low. “tell me you want me… all of this… me.”

your eyes fluttered open, heart in your throat, and you met his gaze. you looked him up and down and pulled him in tight, letting your lips do the talking.

"does that answer your question?"

he groaned, a sharp, feral sound that made your stomach clench, and pressed harder, pinning you against the door like it was his god-given right. “good,” he breathed, tilting his head as his lips sought yours again, slower now, tasting, teasing, claiming. “i need to… i need to ask, too.”

“ask?” you whispered, breathless.

he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing along your jaw. “be… mine, y/n. completely. no games, no half-assed shit. i want you. all of you.”

your chest tightened, eyes swimming with heat, desire, and relief. “yes,” you breathed, voice trembling, letting everything spill out.

that was all he needed. his grin cracked wide, teeth grazing your lips, and he dove back into your mouth, hands wandering over every inch he could reach, lips and tongue claiming, teeth grazing just enough to draw gasps from you.

you pressed into him, hands clawing at his back, hips grinding, the friction of his body against yours setting you alight. each kiss was sharper, heavier, demanding, full of need and want and something that had been simmering for years.

he backed you into the hallway, every step making the tension coil tighter, until finally he spun you gently, but with no less force, toward the bedroom. the air was thick, your breaths ragged, hands clutching at each other’s clothing, trying to close the distance you both had held back for too long.

“god, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you shivered violently. “i’ve needed this… wanted you… for so long.”

you couldn’t hold back anymore. “me too, cho. so badly.”

he groaned, a deep, rough sound vibrating through your chest, hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer as you crossed the threshold into the bedroom. the door shut behind you with a definitive click, muffling the city outside, leaving only the sound of your hearts, your breaths, and the magnetic pull between your bodies.

and then… he kissed you again, slow and searing, full of hunger and want and heat, pressing you onto the bed as your legs tangled together, bodies seeking, finding, consuming.

he’s all teeth and tongue, biting, sucking, nipping at your neck, shoulder, jaw, dragging low, urgent groans from deep in his chest that make you ache and melt at the same time.

your nails rake down his back, pulling him closer, and he leans in, grinding, pressing, heat and hunger radiating from him in waves that make your knees weak.

“fuck, choso—” you gasp, but he swats your hands away gently, lips still devouring yours, teeth grazing, tongue probing, tugging, tasting.

every touch, every snap of his hips as he grinds his clothed cock against you, makes your clit pulse with anticipation.

his fingers slip under your shirt, pressing and pinching at your hardened nipples, trailing down your sides slowly, dragging heat across your skin.

your hands clutch at him, tugging his hoodie off of his body, anything to get more of him, more contact, more friction. he responds with a low, guttural growl, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hips snapping hard, testing, teasing, driving you insane with want as he tears off his shirt.

you catch a glimpse of the body you'd see on the daily, a perfect chiseled masterpiece, only this time, it was all yours.

he doesn’t just kiss you, he devours you. hands roaming over your pretty body, he slips your skirt off next, and slides his big, veiny hand down, down, until the thick pads of his fingers tease and prod at your wet bundle of nerves. you hiss in reply.

"fuck! choso— that feels— so good!"

he smirks at your confession and slowly pushes his thick digits inside, scissoring them back and forth, driving you up the wall as you let out pretty, breathless moans.

"ch-choso!"

his mouth drifts lower, teasing the swell of your breasts, biting just enough to make you arch and cry out.

after working you open, he kisses your lips tenderly before pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift motion. his rock hard cock springs free, and, wow. just wow.

"th-that's not gonna fit..."

"we'll make it fit, baby."

and fit it did. he slowly pushed his fat tip past your puffy lips, whispering reassuring praise as you squeezed your eyes shut from the streeeetch.

"aww— you can do it, ma. you're doing so good for me. that's it, just keep breathing baby."

his hips jerked forward, letting the last few inches fully stretch you out, earning a porn star worthy moan rip from your throat.

"holy fuck— holly shit! choso, you're so big!"

he groaned in satisfaction, your cunt swallowing him whole as he slapped his hips back and forth over and over again, cursing and moaning deeply into your ear.

his pace turns brutal, like all of his emotions were being poured into fucking you nice and deep, the way you deserved.

he dips his face down impossibly close to your face to capture your quivering lips in a kiss. he smirks against your skin, letting lewd comments tumble out of his smirking lips.

"you moan so prettily for me baby— shit— nothing— hah— gets me harder than hearing you whine like a slut while i fuck you fast."

you arch, grinding against him without thinking, letting the friction and his raw heat take over, body trembling beneath him. he groans into your neck, claws digging into your thighs, holding you open, guiding, punishing, claiming.

he’s insatiable. every roll of his hips, every snap, every deep press of him against you makes your body combust, trembling, gasping, aching for more. your moans, ragged and loud, fuel him, and he leans in, tongue and teeth and lips all at once, relentless, like he’s trying to imprint himself into your skin.

you can’t think. can’t breathe. can’t do anything but ride the fire, hips rolling into him, chest pressing into his, skin slick and shivering. he drives you higher, deeper, grinding with unrelenting intensity, low growls vibrating through his chest, vibrating through you.

"fuck! baby— gonna cum— gonna fill y' up, shit!"

you locked your legs around his torso as his thrusts become more and more feverish, the sheer pace making your face squeeze tight in ecstasy.

he's breathing heavy, holding your hips against him so hard you're sure his hands will leave bruises, your cunt being relentlessly pounded as he finally lets go.

"fuck— y/n! fuck i love you, i love you so much!"

you gasp at his words and blurt out a response like it was muscle memory, like it was the most perfect irrevocable truth.

"i love you too, choso— hah!—,"

when he finally drives the both of you over the edge, it’s explosive. he pants and collapses immediately, groaning into your chest as he caresses your hair, speaking soft praise into your ear.

"god, that was so good. you did so well f'me... holy shit, y/n. you're so perfect, so good... you took me like a fucking champ."

you were too busy coming down to fully comprehend, but you cradled his head against your chest all the same.

he doesn’t pull away. just holds you, chest pressed to yours, lips brushing your forehead, arms tight around you, skin slick and sticky, breaths mingling, pulse still wild. the tension hasn’t left, it’s just simmering now, a coiled heat between you two that promises this is only the beginning.

you’re still gasping, shivering, trembling in the aftermath, but it’s… thrilling, dark, messy, and perfect. he leans down, brushing his lips over yours once more, teeth grazing, murmuring something low and rough that makes your stomach knot again.

"i love you, y/n. you're mine. i don't fuck and dip, this is a forever thing now, okay? i promise, i'm never letting you get away from me."

the world outside is gone. it’s just the two of you, tangled, fevered, and utterly, terrifyingly alive.

you reply through breathless speech, looking deep into his beautiful, tired eyes.

"i know, cho. and that's all i've ever really needed."

m.list !

seeee i told you id post it today 🌝

[tonycries]

BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT! - T.F.

Synopsis. Bark like he wants to knot you? The 5-DAY APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM specializes in training (and taming!) even the most volatile of hybrids against provocation, pheromones, and ruts. Make the world a better place for all hybrid types - even cute lil’ bunny hybrids like you should know better than to get close to the big, bad wolf in rut.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!bunny hybrid!reader, wolf hybrid!Toji, HYBRIDS AU, pheromones, RUTS, slight enemies-to-Iovers, muzzIes, slight humiIation, making him BEG, PÚSSYDRÚNK Toji, oraI (fem rec.), p talking, face-ríding, fíngering, spítting, chokíng, manhandIing, mean Toji, desperate Toji, pulling you by the ears, first times (his), he’s slightly inexperienced, big D’s, big stretches, dúmbifícatíon, doggy, BRÉEDING, talks of kids, rough s, creampíes, cúmpIay, KNOTS, implied marathon, reactions, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 13.7k

A/N. Tonycries is listening…based on this tiktok from the wonderful mind of @/v4mpyrf4e (such a sweetheart y’all omg-). And y’alls comments made me CACKLE-

“Welcome to Day 1 of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM, thank you all for joining us here today.” You’re the one in charge of setting off the introductions, letting Utahime announce her name and status as a human, before you’re following suit. “-and as you can see, I’m a rabbit hybrid. Oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus.”

Gesturing at the sleek, slender ears that stood proudly upon your head—they were the exact shade as your hair, glistening under the natural sunlight of the training field. They twitched ever-so-slightly at the attention of your class, hybrids of all ages and sizes and types.

And you had to admit that you took quite good care of them!

Those appendages were the prized possession of any rabbit around, and they never failed to draw awed gasps and coos from your batches of students.

Smiling, you were about to cut through with an ice-breaker before…

…someone whistles.

Sensitive ears whipping in the direction of the noise instantly, eyes snapping to his nametag.

Toji Fushiguro: Wolf.

Oh.

Oh?

A shiver runs down your spine.

You’ve never come into contact with a wolf hybrid in this program- at least, not in any of the classes that you’ve led. Coyotes. Vultures. Grizzlies. Hell, even the odd big cat or two (though they were mostly from other classes you’d assisted, and you didn’t end up having direct contact with them). They were all the same to you: students.

But a wolf?

You didn’t know why you were reeling so much at the realization - wolves needed this program too. It was mostly predator-types that attended (absolutely nothing wrong with that), as their heightened senses and strength left them more susceptible to high-pressure moments such as letting ruts take over, or asserting dominance. Self-control is something everyone should have!

So a large wolf hybrid attending this program should be absolutely nothing out-of-the-ordinary, absolutely nothing that leaves you rattled, absolutely nothing that differentiates him from your other students.

Absolutely…

You clench your fists, steeling yourself - all that training you’d undergone to come into this position as an instructor for the program wasn’t for nothing! 

“Excuse me-” You’re narrowing your eyes down at the man, standing right at the front of your group. Sliding your peripherals up, up, up from his nametag—

Half-lidded eyes. An easy smile. 

A face might have been ripped right out of the big screens, so handsome that it makes that lil’ bunny tail behind you twitch.

And it’s only then that you’re realizing just how…large he is.

A broad frame. Muscular arms. Tall.

Fuck.

Even for a wolf hybrid. In fact, you could see the irritated expressions on the smaller hybrids scrambling to see from around him- what audacity, to be front and center like this. And judging by the smug expression twisting those scarred lips of his, Toji didn’t give a shit whether they saw or not.

As long as he could.

As long as he could pin you down with his heavy gaze, staring from underneath his shaggy black bangs. Toji blinked slowly, as if he was savoring each glimpse- and each glimpse just seemed to raaaaake across your body.

The longer you’re staring at him, the more elated his pupils seem to twinkle. Something unreadable in them.

“-did you have something to say?” You’re finally finishing off, after what felt like an age of the charged staredown had passed. 

Toji only crosses his arms in front of him- and you swear your ears pick up on the minutest rip! of his biceps stretchin’ his thin t-shirt. The black fabric giving way to the flex of those incredible arms. “Oh. The whistle?” The wolf hybrid’s gruff voice answers, a deep baritone that you find strangely…pleasant on your eardrums. “Nah. Must be close to the full moon, heh- keep talking, lil’ bunny.”

“That’s madam rabbit to you-”

“Bunnygirl?”

Involuntarily, your nose twitches in annoyance - something that seems to make the man raise a brow at and smirk. Something chuckled underneath his breath—“Cute.”

You would’ve almost thrown your clipboard at Toji Fushiguro had your colleague not cleared her throat. 

“Oh-” Mouth parting in surprise, you’re turning to Utahime who’d been there to witness the entire exchange - right along with the rest of your class, for that matter. Throw in your supervisors, too, and you were decidedly not getting the holiday bonus this year.

Clearing your throat (and pointedly looking away from his eyes), you’re turning to face the program attendees as a whole now. “And if anyone else has any highly intelligent questions, please feel free to ask away.” Silence, except for Toji’s agreeing hum. “Now that that’s cleared up- I had initially wanted to start our first class off with some ice-breakers to get to know each other a bit more, but what’s a better exercise in team spirit than being thrown into the thick of things?”

They look at you in slight surprise, Toji amongst them.

Without warning, you pick up the whistle that’d been strung ‘round your neck and give it two sharp blows. “Five laps around the field- now! Go go go go!”

Bodies moving before minds, the entire group jolts into moving. Some taking a few unprepared steps before they even register what’s happening, some speeding ahead already to get on your good side. Some flew. Some waddled. And some you could even see gape at the facility’s training field, about as large as a football field, with a carpet of grass enveloping the entire expanse of it. They threw their heads back and groaned, before straightening - military-style - when your whistle rang out once more-

But it wasn’t for them.

“You there-” Sticking your hand out—some, it seems, were none other than Toji Fushiguro. He was still rooted where he was when class started, challenging you down with his imposing frame. His amused expression- “-ten laps for not going with your group, Mr. Fushiguro.”

“That’s an abuse of power, bunny.” Toji growls, lips lifting into something that almost looks like a smile. Maybe a snarl.

You’re raising a brow, whistle still raised to your lips. “Fifteen.”

“What’re you gonna give me if I do those, huh?”

“Twenty.”

He wets his lips, jet-black ears twitching. “You won’t dare-”

“Twenty-five.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” But to your confusion, Toji Fushiguro didn’t look neither angry nor dismayed as he received his sentence. In fact, you could’ve sworn that the man looked utterly euphoric with every sniping word that fell from your lips. Upping the challenge. Talking back to him. 

He takes a step closer and the air seems to grow thicker around you two - so thick that it seems to lodge at your throat. And Toji himself can’t seem to rip his eyes away from those pretty lil’ lips that were just so mean to him- “I never knew bunnies could be so feisty.”

He still isn’t moving towards the run, and your vision is blocked by his well-sculptured body. Toji’s eyes were murky, posture strong- and without warning, his nostrils seemed to flare. Taking in a deep, deep gulp of something. And you wondered…why did something smell so sweet? “Thir-”

“Alright alriiiight.” After a roll of his eyes and a scoff, Toji takes off sprinting. The smell is gone before you can grasp it.

Dust clouds erupt from the grassy ground at the sheer force of his strides, and in no time Toji’s catching up to the group in much less than the time it took them to get there. Long legs made for running. Body angular and poised. 

Even from here, you had to admit that his form was immaculate - expected, you guessed, of a borne hunter. But even coming from a wolf hybrid, it took you somewhat aback.

Wasn’t there a cheetah hybrid in the group, too? He was just behind her now, steadily catching up as her stamina started to falter.

Not only did he seem to be larger, but he was faster, too? Now you knew what made him so cocky, you suppose.

You’re blowing your whistle once more, “Mr. Fushiguro, thirty-two for cutting me off there.”

Toji looks over his shoulder with knitted brows, and a smile that you couldn’t describe as anything other than purely…feral. “Just for you- heh, I’ll make it fourty-two, bunny.”

“Don’t make me make it fifty.” Grumbling, more to yourself than him by this point. From the corner of your eye, you could see Utahime with a hand raised to her lips- firmly shut as if she was trying to stop herself from laughing.

You’re turning to her with a half-joking scowl, “What, Uta?”

“Oh, nothing.” She’s waving you off, standing beside you to look over your sprinting students. And with a thoughtful hum, the human continues. “It’s just, you hybrids have such interesting mating rituals-”

You nearly choke on your whistle—“What rituals?”

A few heads turn to look at you, and you’re gesturing at them to continue - this was your punishment, it seems. The punishment being, well, whatever unfortunate misunderstanding that your co-worker had developed because of her interpretation of hybrid behaviour. 

She looks at you in concern, “Are you alright? Does one get loopy after such mating rituals-”

You’re grabbing both of her shoulders, trying to shake some sense into her. “Repeat that. Tell me you didn’t say what I just so clearly heard you say. Repeat th- actually, wait, don’t repeat that-”

“Mating rituals?” It’s enough to make you grimace, ears flattening behind your head. Watching your reaction, Utahime’s beautiful face grows pale- and she’s clapping both hands over her mouth. “Oh- wait, sorry! Is that a taboo thing to say before you two have officially mated? Like a will-they-won’t-they thing? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“It’s…not…” You wince, “No- no it’s okay. It’s not that it’s taboo or anything, it’s just…”

“Oh.” Utahime breathes out in relief, punching your shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that then, girl. What then? What’s the issue?”

And you dreaded to know the answer to this particular question of yours, one that you so clearly knew if her misconception had been anything to go by. Nonetheless…“You thought that him- the wolf and I were…flirting?”

“Oh, that?” She hums in thought, “No, not exactly.”

Oh?

Then maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe you’d just been overthinking things, maybe she’d just misconstrued some interaction you had with another one of your students earlier, maybe this entire thing wasn’t even about Toji or how he seemed so close to-

“I thought the wolf and you were seconds away from mating.”

Goddammit! 

“Or bonding-” Utahime airily waves a hand, as if the extra explanation helped - though, to be fair, you knew you were the one that’d posed the question. “Whichever one that you hybrids like to choose, bonding is the one with the bites, right? And good luck because he looks like a biter, woof—”

You’re putting your face in your hands and groaning.

At least this damn program was only five days long.

.

.

.

Day 2 of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM.

Did you say this training program was five days long? Apologies, you actually meant to say that it was five centuries- because you’ve just gotten through the first few units of your second day, and it already feels like you’ve aged years.

And you can’t pinpoint an exact reason as to why - well, other than Toji Fushiguro’s presence, of course.

Toji Fushiguro and the way you’d gotten to work earlier today in preparation for the lessons, only to open your office door and find the very man lounging back on your chair. Feet on the desk. Humming idly to himself. Silky black tail swishing happily. Rubbing his scent off on every nook and cranny- 

“What the fuck are you doing here-”

“Good morning to you too, lil’ bunny.”

It was just then that Utahime had passed, saving Toji from your plans of throttling him right then and there. It turns out that the wolf hybrid had ‘gotten the time wrong’ and had ‘absolutely nowhere to go- nevermind the café right down the street’ and so he’d been let inside the building. Regardless of the fact that he had an entire office space to himself, he’d chosen to coop himself up in your office.

“And since you two are future mates, I thought it would be okay. Maybe you can show me some of those mating rituals!” Utahime had happily announced, smacking you on the back- just a tinge too loud for a certain wolf’s ears to not discern.

A smirk was on Toji’s handsome face immediately, “Something you need to tell me, bunnygal?”

“Get out of my office both of you-”

And today would have been somewhat bearable if it had ended at just that. But the universe is never quite so kind to you, is it?

Because Toji was in your class, eyeing you down in class, always hot with a quip directed towards you in class. It wasn’t just the physical training part of things (a way to increase their endurance, which he certainly didn’t seem to need any increasing), but even during the light reading sessions—Toji would have his book opened just a crack, attractive fingers flicking loooong luxurious glides on the pages. 

And then he’d dart just the crowned tips of them up to lick- while he looked right into your eyes.

Because of course, he did.

And you hated to admit that those actions just made you…gulp. If he didn’t end up bubbling over a reaction out of you (perhaps commands for extra laps, perhaps telling him off which he seemed to love), then he didn’t stop until he did.

But that wasn’t even the moment that stood out in your mind the most.

No, what you went back home to thinking about - what you slipped underneath your silken bed covers thinking about - was the incident that had happened during one of the trust exercises.

In it, the entire class had been blindfolded and told to use their senses to navigate and interact with one another - the two instructors, you and Utahime, included. It was a bonding activity as well as a way to allow one to channel their natural instincts into something that they wanted it to do. Nature and navigate, that sort of thing. 

Nothing too outstanding, you’d done it many times with many different batches. Slightly awkwardly waddling through the classroom, hands out and alert for another person. Only, this time…

“Oh? Someone’s in front of me-” A gruff voice echoed out from right behind you - right behind you. And you could already feel the heat of Toji Fushiguro’s proximity, before you even registered it was him. There was the airy whoosh of the atmosphere bending to one’s hand reaching out—“Angel-” To one’s hand just lightly tracing your upright ears, “-or a pretty bunny?”

Your ears.

Your ears.

Toji Fushiguro’s greedy fingers were latching onto the sensitive bits of your ears, and you’re forced to bite back a moan. “S-sensitive…”

And scent patches were protocol, really, just to make things easier on both parties.

But even through the bandage-like coverings on either side of your neck, a puff of your pheromones seeps through and into the air. The atmosphere. The senses of the wolf hybrid behind you that lets out an out-of-control growl—

Primal.

You gasp, hurriedly taking off your blindfold.

SLAM!

Only to be met with the barren air, and the door slamming behind you. It seems that Toji had left the classroom - the only evidence that he was ever even here to begin with was the reverberating impact of the door. 

And the sultry smell of something sweet lingering in the air.

Animalistically, you’re raising your nostrils to the air- but by then it’d already dissipated into nothingness. And a part of you craves for more more more—

Clutching the blindfold, in a classroom full of oblivious students, you clench your thighs together.

You were so fucking wet.

And outside, though you aren’t aware at that point, a certain other hybrid was having a particularly tough time, too.

What else did you expect?

Toji Fushiguro was striding. Toji Fushiguro was escaping- he had to. He had to. He had to. He had to. If he didn’t then he fucking knew that he’d tear you into pieces and shove his aching hot erection with no care for who else was watching in that damned classroom.

Down the narrow corridor, he was going as fast as his slightly-weakened knees would take him. Pace echoing out against the formal tiles, like the thunder of his heartbeat.

Toji felt like he was burning up. Faster. Toji felt like he was out-of-breath. Faster. Toji felt like—

The next thing he’s feeling is the ceaseless expanse of the wall, frigid against his body that just seemed to be set alight right now. Without properly consulting his own mind, he’s leaning against it. Head falling back. Body slouching onto the floor. A thick ‘fuck’ leaving him as he sits himself down right then and there-

“Oh fuck—” Toji’s pressing one hand to his face, the other against the solid pain that’d taken up between his legs. He looks down, “Oh fuck, m’in rut.”

.

.

.

Day 3 of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM.

Toji Fushiguro was just on time to your program today, and though you couldn’t say that you weren’t relieved his incredible earliness lasted only a day- you couldn’t quite say that you weren’t disappointed, either. Rabbits, always hopping around.

“So…” Utahime’s teasing voice calls out in the distance, and you’re shocked to find that she’s actually right beside you. Had you been spacing out?

With a jolt, you realize you’d done it just as Toji was completing his nth lap of the morning. He flaunts past the finish line with each, shooting a sleazy wink your way—you hadn’t been staring at him, dammit!

“Something in your eye?” You call out.

“Just a pretty bunnygirl, heh.”

Shaking your head free of him (and doing your very best to not look as though you were shaking your head free of him), you’re turning back to your friend. “So…what, Uta?”

She nudges your shoulder with hers, “So what are the updates on your mating ritual-”

“Enough-”

Refusal ringing out across the field, your voice catches the attention of Shoko, who’d been placing an ice pack over the ankle of a mouse hybrid. She looks over with a raised brow, before confirming with her patient and helping him walk back to his group.

Once she was done, she picks up two clean towels and makes a beeline towards where the two of you were standing.

“Still in denial.” Utahime says, as a way of greeting. She catches the towel that Shoko throws at her and sighs, “Enemies-to-lovers go from enemies to lovers faster in my books…”

And somehow, Shoko seems to know exactly what she’s talking about. 

The racoon hybrid brings a thoughtful hand up to her chin, appraising you with those sleep-darkened eyes if you were yet another one of her patients. “Well, I didn’t see anything wrong in the mating and reproduction department last time we had a check-up. Would you like me to take a look again?”

Indignantly, “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me-”

“Perhaps her pheromones are being blocked?” Utahime nods at her friend, before snatching your towel out of your hand and rubbing it over your scent glands-

“Woah-” You gasp, the rough texture of the fabric making your ears twitch. Somehow, it almost reminds you of the day before where…“What the- Uta I will kill you-”

“Adequate pheromone secretion, considering the scent patches.” Shoko leans in to look at it and hum. “I don’t think there’s a problem there- and the clients have to take a mandatory medical test, there was no anomaly in Toji’s, either.”

“And the scent? What about the scent- I can’t smell it as a human, but you’ve got to have some sort of sense for it even as a friend, right?” Utahime insists.

You squeal, “Don’t you dare, Shoko- this has got to be some sort of HIPAA violation I swear-”

“You’re right.” The doctor says, sagely. And all your squirming, struggling, screaming seems to stop- for just the briefest second…before Shoko looks you up and down and states once more. “Rub a little harder, I would like to take a scent swatch for my own personal experimentation as well.”

“I will experiment on you-”

“U-um, madam bunny?”

You whirl—“What?” 

And the poor, unsuspecting mouse hybrid staggers backwards at the force of your exclamation. Damn near falling to the ground- which is where that swollen ankle of his seemed to have originated from in the first place.

“Oh.” The three of you staff look at each other, and you’re shoving your friends off in an instant to crouch down to his stooped figure. You feel simply awful as he quivers before you- you should look into getting the poor man a discount. “I’m so sorry, Ijichi, I’ve been out of my mind. Are you alright?”

“Y-y-yes- but no.” He’s stammering, not holding your eye still. “It’s just- my ankle’s acting up again and I was wondering whether I could be excuse to the medic room for today?”

“Yes- yes of course!” You’re looking to Shoko, and the two of you place Ijichi’s arms ‘round either of your shoulders to help him get up and walk to her clinic. You’re patting at him soothingly, “It’ll be alright, Ijichi, Shoko’s gonna fix you up properly in no time.” Ignorant to the low trundle of a growl that’s thrown your way.

To the way that Toji’s staring at your little group, unwavering, your arms around another man.

To the crackle of something bitter seeping into the air.

Though, Ijichi isn’t quite so ignorant to the daggers glared his way (it burned, that glare, and he faints in your arms before you manage to reach the clinic).

By the time you’re dropping your poor student off on the comfy white beds, making your way back out onto the field, Utahime was leading the group through the final cooling down exercises. Letting her take the lead, you sit yourself down on one of the benches near her and sigh.

Goodness, it was a big facility and that trip had unexpectedly taken quite a bit out of you. 

Your limbs were heavy, long rabbit ears damped with perspiration and pushed back. Without thinking much of it, your hands reach out to where you think you remember Utahime throwing down your towel earlier (at least, she had before you’d left)- only for your fist to close around…nothing.

“Huh?” Straightening up, you look around the vast wooden bench. It had your active bags, your change of clothes, your props for activities done during the physical sessions. Everything and anything but that damned towel- “I could have sworn…”

“Hey, everything alright?” Utahime asks, it seems that she’d just finished up her cool down. The class was dispersing as they wished, chattering, ribbing, taking their time to get ready for the next unit of the day.

Utahime squirts a stream of water into her mouth and walks up to you, to which you’re nodding your head. “No, I mean- yes? Everything’s alright, it’s just- have you seen my towel anywhere?”

She giggles, “The one with your scent swatch on it?”

“The one with my scent swatch on it.” You deadpan, “I just can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

And it’s only then that the knits her brows, expression turning into one of slight concern. “Huh? I could’ve sworn that I put it there when you left with Shoko and Ijichi, maybe it blew away in the wind somehow?”

You’re looking up at the windless morning, drier than the Sahara. “Maybe…”

“Or maybe one of the students accidentally took it?” She suggests, yet it was futile to have the two of you looking around from here. Class was dismissed for the time being, and there was no way of tracking down every single person and their towels. With a slightly lighter tone, “Or maybe Shoko actually took it- y’know, to experiment on.” She nods in the direction of the building, “C’mon, lets go bug her for more towels - the nice ones with the flowers on them.”

“In a few days there’ll be some clones of me running around.” You get up.

You never did find out where that towel went, and you never did think about it much after that day, either.

Toji Fushiguro, however?

Oh, that damn towel was all that helped him make it through the night. Fuck—with his nose pressed against the fabric that was soaked with all your sweetened, lavendar smell- and his hand pressed underneath his boxers and furiously pumping his cock.

Toji’s elongated canines dig into the towel and he keens your name like a prayer.

.

.

.

Day 4 of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM.

Toji Fushiguro was late.

When he hadn’t showed up to the facility hours before class was supposed to start, you didn’t worry too much. When he hadn’t showed up precisely at 8:00AM on the dot, well, you were getting somewhat intrigued but you still didn’t worry too much.

But when it was 1:47PM and Toji Fushiguro still wasn’t here?

Alright…now you were getting a bit irritated. Because at the very least, students would call the reception to let them know that they weren’t coming in for the day - but this bastard hadn’t bothered to even do that! Not even the slightest heads-up!

Of course, it was the principal of the matter and not because you were disappointed or anything.

No, not at all. Not at all.

You just liked your classes to be at full attendance, that’s what. 

But having no Toji Fushiguro didn’t break your classes. In fact, one could argue that they’d gone even smoother today than usual.

You’d gone through the morning drills without him, you’d showered up and made it through a few readings and testimonies without him, you’d just turned off the endings credits of a documentary and was about to start an entirely new lesson without him.

“And today’s lesson will be on Muzzles 101, for this I have actually acquired a real-life muzzle.” Lifting the strappy, clinking metal thing from your desk for the entire class to see—to be quite honest, this was one of your favorite parts of the syllabus. “As you might be able to tell, this muzzle in particular is intended to fit the canine type of hybrid. But of course, there are many different types of-”

BANG!

“Missed me, bunny?”

But of course, only when Toji Fushiguro was missing did you realize how much it felt like something was missing without him.

And there he stood now, with his towering body filling out the doorframe- lungs heaving, vibrating with adrenaline, sweater haphazard as if he’d simply sprinted the entire way here.

You’re looking up at him and you swear you can see slight dark circles underneath his eyes - he didn’t seem to have had a restful sleep last night, hm? Wonder what kept him up like that?

“You’re late.” Oh-so-welcomingly, you state.

He smirks, “Fashionably so.”

Not responding to his hook, you’re turning back to the class that was watching the interaction with bated breath. “And as our latecomer, how about we have Mr. Fushiguro here give us a real-life demonstration as to wearing a muzzle?”

“I’d like to see you fucking try- fuck!”

The class erupts in agreement, and before Toji Fushiguro - who’s never been talked down to, who’s never been tugged down by the collar of his sweater and  had a fucking muzzle clipped on him in all the thirty odd years of his life - even knows what’s happening, he’s worshipping you at your feet.

Literally.

Hooking your fingertips into the mesh-like covering of his dog muzzle, you’re hauling Toji right down to his knees. Right down to the floor. Right down at your feet.

And he doesn’t resist.

Why the fuck would he ever resist?

You place one of your palms on top of his silky black hair, scratching behind his wolf’s ears as if he was nothing but a docile dog. A pet. “And here—” Announcing to the class, the leans in at the edges of their seats to take a better look. “-we have a wolf hybrid in a muzzle- hah! Put a muzzle on and some big, bad wolf he is.”

Through the bars of his muzzle, Toji darkly growls—

“Down, boy.” Through a grin, you’re narrowing your eyes down at Toji. “You’re supposed to be good when the muzzle’s on, don’t you know?”

“Oh yeah? Let me out n’ I’ll show you what’s good-”

Pulling lightly on his soft hair, “What’s that?”

He doesn’t answer - but he doesn’t snap back anything mouthy, either. If you’d known that Toji Fushiguro could be so good for you like this, then you might’ve put the muzzle on even sooner if you were being quite honest.

“And now-” Fuck, what’s next? Toji can only look up as you continue to speak- continue to make a fool of him- continue to raise your dominant hand up past your collarbones. Right up to that sweet next of yours, covered in scent patches that you were starting to peel off—“-for the ultimate temptation. Remember what this program is really about.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck, it can’t be.

You’re taking off that protective layer on the side of your throat, and just then…oh, just then Toji Fushiguro thinks he ascends to fucking heaven.

The most sultry, soft lavender scent bursts out into the room- even stronger than the pheromones that’d been stuck to your towel. It seems to haze over the dull classroom with an almost sparkly mist, and it seems to haze over Toji’s eyes with a film of lust.

Burning up.

Feverish.

He’d never been so gone over anyone else’s pheromones before. Never. 

His nails dig into the tough tile and leave claw marks-

But you’re looking at the students, some of whom were safely blocking their nostrils. “Pheromones are the ultimate temptation to any hybrid, it drives them wild, it makes them crave, it brings out carnal urges in us that are more animal than not.”

Finally, you look down at Toji.

Who sits with his head bowed, his chest panting.

Panting and panting.

Like a dog in heat- he was drooling from one side of his mouth and praying to anything holy that you couldn’t fucking see-

“As you can see, class, Mr. Fushiguro here is holding up rather exceptionally.” You’re saying- exceptionally? He wanted to laugh. To laugh and laugh. But more than that he wanted to fuck you silly right here and now- but ah, in the end he actually gets neither. Toji Fushiguro doesn’t laugh, and you’re plastering on your scent patches once more. “Now, in the real world we don’t always have the luxury of scent patches. In times such as these we hybrids…”

Toji seems to crouch even deeper on his knees, hunching in on himself almost. He’s sure that those other bastards in the classroom are probably gawking at his submissiveness right now- let them think what he wants.

His tail swishes the floor, ears listening for the whispers. He doesn’t give a fuck.

He wasn’t caving in because he was fucking submissive or some other shit- no. Toji was down on his knees and practically humping your feet in front of an entire group, all because he’s never been harder in his entire life.

“-can try it out for yourselves should you so wish to later on.” And you were oblivious to the entire thing—oh, pretty bunny, how he wanted to rip you apart. Inch by inch. 

Just from the briefest second of your scent.

You’re getting into the proper lesson by now, throwing out the history of muzzles in relationship with hybrids whilst absent-mindedly patting Toji’s head. He leans into your touch and you falter mid-speech, ears twitching in every direction, you swear you could’ve smelt a faint sweetness in the air.

.

.

.

Day 5 of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM.

On the last day of the program, Toji Fushiguro didn’t attend at all. 

Perhaps the demonstration yesterday had taken it too far? But you’d asked him about it, and Toji had insisted that it was something he enjoyed doing—

“Next time, though, that’s gonna be you, bunny-”

“You wish.”

After all, it had been part of the syllabus, too, and the rest of the class had been eager to jump onto wearing the muzzle and tempting each other with their pheromones. So you didn’t think that it was exactly that.

Or perhaps he didn’t find the program useful at all and didn’t want to waste his time on it any longer? 

This program in particular was showered with praise and rave reviews, but you understood that it might not resonate with everyone. In that case, there were refunds and extension packages for particularly difficult students - and Toji didn’t exactly strike you as the type to leave something half-finished.

Or perhaps…perhaps you didn’t know.

He didn’t let the reception know he was about to be absent. He didn’t give you any notice that he’d be quitting.

It might just have been something in his personal life that you weren’t exactly privvy to - you were just his program teacher, after all. And after today (and the graduation ceremony, which was really more of a formality than anything) tomorrow, you weren’t going to be even that.

Someone to lecture him on the etiquette of his displays of dominance, someone to tease and rile up.

Some bunny.

And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Which might just have been (though you didn’t entirely admit it to yourself) why you found yourself working late into the night on the fifth day of the program - the first day of Toji’s disappearance. Along in your office. In the dead of night.

If he wasn’t going to attend anymore, then you might as well drown that pang of disappointment in work. 

You’re tap-tap-tapping away at your computer, eyes glazed over after so many hours staring into it. All the words were starting to slur together into an unreadable language now, and that was likely not a good sign.

You needed sleep.

You’re leaning back on your chair with a sigh, massaging your eyes with the mountainous front of your palms. Whispering, “Fuck…” You look outside your window for the briefest second- and only then do you realize that the world outside was being kissed with a slight drizzle of rain. “God, how long have I even been here?”

You look back down at your computer screen, as bright as day: 12:07AM.

Yaga was going to kill you - he always did preach on about ‘healthy work-life balances’, and this was anything but balanced. You guessed you’d just mark your student register for the day and get the hell out of here- but ah, the rain…

“It’s fine.” Clicking away at the ticks that denoted someone had been present - and they all had been today, except for one. “It’s not raining too bad so I’ll just run to my car or…”

Toji Fushiguro’s name wasn’t the first on the register, now even the last.

And yet, you had no explanation as to why you palm kept scrolling you back to his name each time. That stupid, stupid name—‘Fushiguro, Toji’—even that seemed to be smirking at you.

Perhaps out of frustration, perhaps out of hidden desire, perhaps out of utterly nothing else to do- you click on it. That name. That medical page compiled by Shoko that you were taken to whenever you clicked on a student’s name, with all the information that you’d ever need on them.

You’d skimmed Toji’s profile once before, right before the program had started as you were trying to familiarize yourself with the students.

But now, something about it felt…different.

More personal.

More intimate.

Name: Fushiguro, Toji

Age: 30’s

Sex: Male

Height: 6’2+

Hybrid type: Canis lupus

Status: Unmated.

Other notes: It is important that the subject is of impressive size and weight, even for the Canis lupus (potential subspecies mix of Canis lupus occidentalis). And it is even more important to note that the subject is aware and, one might even argue, cocky about this fact.

You snort at that last line.

Black, silky coat that is well taken care of. Long legs. Considerable muscular mass. Irritable temperament puts him on the radar for potential disruption and displays of dominance. Keen senses. Exceptional speed. STRONG ruts.

And that line? You’re reading over those last two words at least eight times to make sure you got it right - it would’ve been one thing to know that Toji Fushiguro had strong ruts, it’s another thing to have Shoko capitalize, embolden, and underline those two words.

And this was a woman who’d written the many, many profiles that you’d seen in your time working for the facility.

But you’d never seen her emphasize something quite like this?

You keep reading onwards-

Subject has a strong leakage of pheromones in the duration of his rut, which are stated to last for at least over a week, according to the subject. During this time he claims to be ‘crazed’ and ‘like a madman’, and due to the sheer severity of these ruts has never been known to take a mate.

Never?

Last known time of rut was five months ago.

Note to self: REMIND SUBJECT OF RUT!

A crash of wood somewhere in the distance. 

VERY EASILY TRIGGERED!

Footsteps.

AND POTENTIALLY COMING INTO RUT VERY SOON!

Through the silver flicker of lightning from outside, you can make out the shape of someone towering at your office door. Opened wide. His hands rested against the frame as if he was about to collapse any moment now- he cast a shadow over where you were seated, gripping the wooden panel so tight that you could hear the low crack!

And you already know who it is.

“T-Toji?” Your rabbit ears raise into the air, trying to catch any answer from him. When there’s none, you’re getting up from your chair and taking a cautious step forward. “Toji, what happened- why are you here at this time?”

Toji twitches as if the very sound of your voice jolted him to his very core, “All the better to meet you with, bunny.”

Rough.

Hoarse.

There was a primal rumble in his tone that made your legs press together - whether out of need or fear…It honestly didn’t even sound like your Toji- and you’re almost second-guessing your initial impression. Perhaps because of that, you’re taking yet another step forward. “Why are you standing there like that?”

“All the better to see you with, bunny.”

But did you honestly even need to ask?

Because one step - one step - is all it takes for Toji’s thick pheromones to immediately hit you. For your mind to whirl with the heady combination of sandalwood and crisp ice and need. Pure need.

It’s so strong that your body takes an immediate lurch backwards, shivering at the scent of a predator-type at his strongest - at his closest. “And why do you smell so…” The backs of your knees hit the stippled cushion of your chair, and you’re just about to topple onto the seat-

When the rabid wolf hybrid crosses the room in less than two strides, pulling you into his arms instead.

You’re hissing at the sheer heightened temperature of his body, as if he was overcome with a fever. Multiple fevers. All at once. His hands grip at your waist as though you were his sole lifeline, elongated claws tearing through your skirt with ease. His maw—

Oh, and his greedy, slobbering maw was wide open and mouthing at the swollen scent gland on the right side of your neck.

Toji’s needy canines finding your soft flesh and digging in—”All the better to eat you with, bunny.”

.

.

.

“P-pussy…” Toji’s feral jaw hangs open, globule upon globule of saliva leaking from his lips and through the metal muzzle he was wearing. It drips down the front of his t-shirt until that useless fabric was drenched, and you could make out each curve of his prominent pecs.

Heaving as if he’d just ran a marathon as you lean back on your office desk and spread your legs all wide open, like a feast, wafting out the sweetest pheromones from between, like a dessert. His favorite.

He’s watching as your puffy folds open up like the cutest lil’ blossom, two glistening petals that he wanted to lick clean of that syrupy slick. 

Hell- the mere scent of it was enough that he’s panting like a dog in heat.

As if hypnotized, as if a zombie, Toji’s dazedly leaning forwards—before you rest the tip of your high heel against his forehead. Pushing him right back where he came from, “Down, boy. Didn’t your momma ever teach you table manners?”

“Pussy-” He’s gripping onto either of your thighs with his roughened palms, “But- pussy.” Trying his very best to tug you forwards. “Need to taste that pretty pussy, bunnygirl- fuckin’ put her on my face, please.”

“Nuh uh, Toji.” Crossing your arms with a huff, “Honestly I should give you nothing n’ kick you out right now for crashing into my office like this-”

“Kick me out after—oh.” Toji’s damn lost for words as a glittery bead of slick gently drips out of you, it ends up on a pool in the desk- and he’s groaning at the fact that he can’t just surge over and lick it up right now.

Raising a brow, “And why should I?”

“B-because…” And Toji Fushiguro might be a wolf hybrid, but he’s peering up at you with such puppy eyes. Half-lidded eyes. Begging. Desperate. “Aw- n’ here I thought bunnies were the nice ones- won’t you hngh, give a poor, thirsty dog something sweet? Just one lil’ taste?”

“I dunno…” Grinning, “How thirsty?”

“So thirsty- so thirsty-” And with you loosening your heel on his head, he’s able to gluttonously plunge his sweaty face between your legs- just plunging and plunging. Craving and yearning. Gnawing down on the metal of his muzzle, and pressing its frigid texture against the front of your cunt. “This pussy- this pussy, oh, this pussy.”

The only thing on his fucking mind right now- he’s nudgin’ the metal restraints on his mouth against your folds. “Just one taste of her- I beg of you.” A primal sound rips from the back of Toji’s throat, and it’s enough to make every hair on your body stand on end. “Just one taste. Just- just one-” Just desperately lolling his lengthy tongue out and flicking it near the bars of his muzzle, where he’s but getting a single droplet of yours. “Fuck this damn thing- I’ll break through it if I have to- I’ll- I’ll—”

“Yes—?”

Shaking his black bangs out of his eyes, “I’ll kneel, I’ll beg-” He guessed he’d already accomplished the first two, Toji’s muzzle shoves against your puffy pussylips once more. “I’ll kill for it. I’ll die for it. I’ll eat this pussy out if it’s the only thing I can eat fer the rest of my life. I’ll keep this damn muzzle on and eat you out through this if I could-”

You throw head backwards with an arch, he was just aching—

“Then do it.”

And it’s all that Toji needs.

He doesn’t care if he’s wearing the canine muzzle anymore, he’s worked himself up into such a frenzy that all he needs is to throw your legs over his broad shoulders and kiss his puffy tongue against the bars. 

Shoving his tastebuds through one of the gaps in the bars. Crushing his muzzle between your legs- “C’mon.” Toji’s spitting into your open cunt, grunting as he just barely manages to flick your wet slit with his tastebuds. Bangs ruffling as he delves even deeper—“C’mon- c’mon- c’mon-”

After each determined pant of his, the wolf hybrid was bullying his muzzled face even deeper between your legs. An entirely new sensation with the way the cold metal was massaging your cunt, “O-oh, you really meant it, huh?”

And he doesn’t even answer.

You don’t think he even hears.

Nothing in his gone, rut-filled mind right about now but the problem of how he was finally going to taste you- and that’s when a sudden thought occurs to him.

Flattening his tastebuds against the muzzle, Toji’s somehow able to lick down the slit of your pussy. Moving his head in a loooooong up n’ down drag, he lets your juices fall all over his tongue and moans- “Pussy.”

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at the quivering tone of his voice, something oh-so-unsteady in it that makes your natural instincts scream at you.

Oh, but your body? 

Your body was bouncing up into Toji’s avid movements as if you were hypnotized by his tongue—“O-oh my god? How are you even managing to- fuck, it feels so good.” Shrilling out, your hamstring start to ache with how badly you were trying to get his tongue to go even deeper. Harder.

And you don’t even have to voice your concerns- because Toji’s slightly unlatching his mouth from your pussy and sniffing at the air. 

He could smell your need in your pheromones, he could smell it on your pussy. In no time, he was dragging you in by the waist until you’re being teetered on the very edge of the table. Slithering that long, slimy tongue alllll across your front- “Pussy.” He pants his mantra out, the buttony knob of his thumb coming up to press down on your clit then. “M’t-tasting your…” 

“Pussy- that’s right.” You’re babbling out, once more being jerked forwards by the needy man. “And that isn’t enough to soothe your thirst, Toji?” Not that you ever wanted him to stop.

“Fuck- you call that a taste?” He sounds almost offended, and you could tell- oh, you could tell that the real Toji Fushiguro wouldn’t be doing those cute lil’ kittenish licks at your folds. He wouldn’t just be teasing your sensitive core with these laps.

He was a wolf hybrid with a large bite. He wanted more.

Much, much more.

And by the way that those crescent fingernails of his were starting to dig at your sides, you could tell that Toji’s restraint was starting to wane. Slowly straining. Ebbing away.

Eating you out through that doggy muzzle, the more he’s crashing its metal fringes against your cunt- the more desperate he’s becoming to actually taste you. To plaster those pretty lips of yours against his entire face like he wanted to, “You call that ‘nough to satiate a thirst? You call- fuck, m’stil fucking dehydrated, bunny.” Pryin’ aside your folds to stare at your glistening hole, “And yer leaking all over.”

Your heeled feet twitch, “Are you saying you don’t want to-”

“No.”

Toji Fushiguro has never sounded more serious in his entire life. 

He’s urgently soothing his sizzlin’ tastebuds against the front of your core, “No no no no no-” Furiously motioning his head as if to make up for even the mere notion that he wouldn’t have this anymore. “I would never say that- never, fuck, a pussy like this and you think m’just gonna give her up so easily?”

Then the bars of his muzzle rub against your sensitive clit and make you gasp, “Then what-”

“M’just saying that m’thirsty, mama.” Toji growls, hooking his thick thumb on the inside of your entrance. He’s using his mean tip to stretch-stretch-streeeetch you widely open - so close and yet so far. “Predator-type hybrids have a laaaaarge appetite, y’know that, bunny?” He’s probin’ his stare up at you, watching your every lewd expression. “Heh, I could eat a cute lil’ bunny like you right up- so look at her.”

Spitting. You’re whining at the sudden impact, and Toji damn near does, too, as he looks down upon the mess he made n’ won’t be able to lick right up.

“And look at me.” The mesh of his muzzle scratches a carnal itch that you didn’t even know you had, “Fucking look at me.” There’s a certain way that he says it - as if his voice had suddenly veered octaves higher without control. As if he was shaking. As if he’d just gone crazed. “Can’t you see that m’acting like a damn dog here?”

Making you dizzy with both his filthy words and his filthy movements, “Oh, fuck- you really are-”

Dragging his handsome face on the sheeny insides of your thighs, he was just so close but so far. Begging. “My bunnygirl- my pretty bunny- pretty girl-” Canines peeking out, “What do you want me to do? What can I do to get ya to hop on my face n’ let me taste it?”

Your heart races at the way you had the Toji Fushiguro babbling for your pussy like this - if anyone else could see him right about now then they’d faint. “Then—” He’s excitedly bucking against your leg, humping his throbbing erection on your calf. “-bark like you want it.”

Toji Fushiguro’s mouth drops.

Toji Fushiguro’s hulking body twitches. Processing what you’d just told him.

And then he opens his scarred mouth and—lets out a low, growling bark.

Oh, you’ve never been wetter.

Still reeling with the sound in your ears - oh, you almost wish you’d recorded it - you’re mindlessly reaching a hand out and unhooking Toji’s muzzle. The most juvenile of locks that’d kept him barred. The easiest fix, now falling to the floor.

At least, you think it falls to the floor.

You honestly don’t see anything past unhooking the muzzle lock- before Toji’s on your cunt with his mouth, his lips, his fingers.

Two thrusts with his watering tastebuds, another thrust with his pointed index.

“Hold still.” It’s all you hear before your body arches at the sheer thickness of his tongue shoving past your swollen pussylips and fucking your hole raw. Ravenous. His slicked tip swabs against your insides, and you could feel each nubbed tastebud dragging against your every orifice.

And how could you not move? You’re being thrust forwards with the pressure - just the slightest few inches - but even that seemed to be too much for the wolf hybrid. He’s pinning his free hand down on your thigh…“Hold still.”

In and out. In and out

Toji isn’t even warming up- hell, he isn’t even taking the time to breathe before he shoves himself nose-deep between your jittery legs. 

Like he wouldn’t even mind suffocating, he’s eating you out like a man that’d been starved for eons. 

“P-pussy—” Toji echoes out his very same mantra, and you honestly don’t know which one of you was more gone by this point. 

Gulping in each sweet, sweet ounce of your slobber- “So this is what you taste like.” His tone cracks on that little sentence, “This is what wh-what your pussy feels like against my lips.” The breathy exhale that leaves him is almost reverent, it buzzes against your tender folds and you’re shrilling out at the shockwaves of pleasure. “What the fuck she tastes so- sweet.”

Your eyes snap open, and you’re staring down at the flushed man. “Sweet?”

“I can see your cute bunny ears twitching- heh, you like that.”

You’re whining as he drags you closer, until you’re almost resting fully on his face, only for him to take deeper whiffs of your cunt.

“And s’not just the rut, she just smells so damn good, too.” Toji blabbers out, not letting a single slick wad escape his ravenous mouth. With the crowned tops of his fingers, he’s smearing apart your hole. “And she sounds so- uh huh- whatever you say, kitty.” As if in the middle of a conversation, he’s nodding and spitting down another sticky web on your core. 

With his upper lip glued to the top of your entrance, he’s alternating between letting his fingers and his tongue shovel inside—

“Kitty’s sayin’ she’s never met another like me, either.”

“Now you’re just b-boasting.” Sobbing out. Nose pressing against your clit, he’s using this lecherous position to breathe in the cute bunny pheromones wafting from you.

“So fuckin’ sweet.” More to himself than anything, “It should be illegal to have such a pretty pussy- is this, fuck, some sorta test?”

“If this was a test, then you’d have failed a long time ago.” You’re letting your chin hit your chest, gazing down at Toji’s ministrations. He was thrusting his tongue so rapidly into your entrance that it looked like nothing but a needy, pinkish blur between your legs. Almost experimenting, you ask him. “Bark again, Toji?” And he does- oh, he does. Grinding against your legs as he shoved himself even deeper. “I th-thought you wanted only one taste?”

But the man beneath you only seems to smile, “Oh, I did just have one taste.” And he’s waiting for you to get just a lil’ stupider on his velvety tongue, “This is one taste.” He presses a wiiiidely opened kiss against your cunt, hot and wet. “And this is one more.” With the audacity to press another. “And one more-” And another. “Oooone more-” Another.

“Should’ve kept that muzzle on you…” You’re wailing, not meaning it a single bit. You both know that that muzzle wouldn’t have stopped him for a single second.

Thrash after vicious thrash, before you’re aching to have him reach your g-spot- and Toji, it seems, senses this. 

Because just then, he’s pulling back his prolonged tongue with such a weeeeeeeeeet slurp.

“And you’re leaking all over- do bunnies like water?”

Just to make sure, Toji bubbles out yet another wad of saliva that gently splats down on your cunt. Rubbin’ along the wetness of it, he’s using it as lubrication to try and fit three entire fingers inside of you.

Inch by solid inch.

The rotund areas of his joints driving you positively wild, they’re opening up every hidden orifice inside of you. Whether inside or outside, not matter how much you try to clench or buck or whine—your cunt gobbles Toji’s fingers up with a wet sluuuuuurp. “If not, better plug her up then.” His wide tongue flops out to catch the speckles of slick that kept splashin’ out, “More f’me- oh, this pussy.”

“Shit- stretching me out so much.” You’re seeing white as his ridged digits scour their way inside, stretching your elastic channel out wiiiiide. “You’re seriously- three?”

“Four.”

Of course, a fourth finger was mazin’ its way inside now - tugging aside your bloated folds so that he could slickly slide along your walls with the rest of them. Everywhere that Toji had mapped out with his tongue earlier, he was now fully committing to memory with his fingers.

“Hafta.” He gurgles out, dry humping your leg whilst he eats you out. “If she’s gonna take my knot then I need- hah, at least four.”

Your eyes damn near bulge out of your scalp, “Your knot is…seriously that big? How can one even th-think of fitting it-”

“Well, yer gonna be the first.”

“Oh—” Head throwing back, you’re bawling out at the constant rhythmic thump-thump-thump of him reaching every hidden spot and cranny. And like a damn dog in heat, he’s lapping and lapping away his sticky tongue on top of your clit. “M’not gonna last-”

Those pinkish tastebuds covered with a glazy layer of saliva and slick, with ribbons that always connect you to him. “Mmmm—”

He’s flexing his tongue down to juuuust press on your knobbly clit, and the pleasure is so much that Toji has to hold you down with his second hand on your thighs. Slithering all the way to the back of your ass so that he can grope you, “Sit down, bunny.” Such a mean command- whilst the inches of Toji’s fingers were scouring inside your walls to find…your g-spot. Easily.

He wastes no time directly pinpointing that particular spot and stroking it with his fingers.

Well—bashing it, more likely.

Because Toji was meeeeeean with his movements, he was impatient. He could feel you growing wetter and wetter- and took it upon himself to hit your g-spot feverishly. Pushing, poking, probing. “Heh, what a magical spot…fuck.” Jaw unhinging even wider open, he just couldn’t stop kissing your wet pussy. “Magical magical pussy- oh, I love you, kitty.”

“T-Toji—” With a twitch, you’re clawing at his sweaty scalp. “Don’t think m’gonna last very soon- actually, I think m’gonna-”

“Awww, how cute-” He eyes the way you’re shivering all over on his tongue, “-the bunny hops.”

“F-fuck off—fuck!”

Jaw dropping.

Head turning dizzy.

Your voice shatters into a million tones as you’re finally reaching your high, white-hot pleasure bursting behind your eyelids. Pulse thundering, it felt as though your entire body was burning up- almost as hot as Toji’s was.

His sizzling tongue, his scorching fingers that pushed n’ pushed n’ pushed away at your g-spot to drag you through your incredible high. 

“C’mon, kitty kitty~” The wolf hybrid whispers between your folds, plump lips wrapping around your clit and streeeeeetching out that sensitive nub. “Be nice to ‘er, mmm, give her a good one.” With each movement between your legs, Toji’s only growing greedier to take over your orgasm - make sure that it’s giving you the utmost pleasure

“It already feels so- oh.” And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Toji’s second hand is lifting off of your bottom to pinch your clit meanly.

Making you genuinely shake through your wave of bliss-

“C’mon c’mon c’mon-” His fingers plummet in thoroughly, hooking up to leave a few cute bruises on the roof of your cunt. “-gotta get ‘er loosened reeeeal nicely, have her stretched out to- to take my knot.”

Just the mere mention of that is making you sputter, and you’re finally managing to blink your teary eyes open as the strongest of your high peters out. The aftermath of it still shook you to your core, but at least you can manage to speak- “The knot that is…f-four fingers big, Toji?”

“Well…” As he was eating you out, Toji was still humping your calf. “-s’still gonna be a bit of a biiiig stretch with four fingers. But you can take it, can’t you, mama?”

Oh…

And when he’s sure that your orgasm has completely passed, when he’s sure he can no longer feel your cunt quivering with the peaks of your high, when he’s sure he’s overstimulated you by thrusting into you for just a bit longer—Toji’s pulling his fingers out of you and unlatching his mouth with a sopping mwah!

You’re trembling at the sudden loss of him filling you up.

Toji takes one look at his thick, slick-glazed fingers- and he’s plunging them between his scarred lips and slurping off the excess remnants. “Mmmm, can’t let a single drop go to waste.” That said, Toji’s finally - finally - rising from his kneeling position on the floor.

All tall and strong and needy.

A predator that’d finally cornered his prey.

He’s yanking his t-shirt off. He’s whipping his belt off. 

He’s so damn tight in his boxers that he actually has to stick a thumb over the hemline of his baggy pants and put some force- pulling it down. Boxers and all.

And oh.

Oh.

You can’t help but let your eyes widen, jaw dropping.

You weren’t getting out of this alive, were you?

The very moment that he’s freed from his boxers, Toji’s aching hot length springs out and hits his chiselled abs with a smack! Smearing a long, long line of pre that you almost wanted to reach out and smear- his red-hot tip was sensitive enough that just your stare makes him twitch.

He just kept on droolin’ away the milky lines of his sap. 

All the way from his flared mushroom tip throbbing rapidly, down the zig-zagging veins that puffed out proudly, down to the tuft of curly hairs that ended at his base, his ballsack. And already, you could see an extra extra thickness formulating at Toji’s hilt, where his knot was bound to grow.

And was that—

You gasp, “Toji, your boxers are drenched in white-”

“I know.” He grunts out, as if it pained him. Though the slight smirk on his face told an entirely different story, his rugged thumb wafts over the few pearls of white dappling his length. “I know- that kitty made me cum just by eating her out. How’s that for a needy dog?”

Oh, fuck.

All nine inches of him (hell, likely even ten if you measured properly) was achingly hot and pulsating to be inside of you. This very second.

Looking up at him - naked, needy - after staring down for so long made quite the difference. You’re remembering just how intimidating this wolf hybrid is. And something revealed in the pheromones you’d given off makes him crack a sultry smirk. “C’mere bunny.”

Instinctually, your body’s lurching backwards for escape-

Only for Toji to grasp your rabbit ears using one of his hands, dragging you off the table with them.

“M-my ears!” You’re yelping, though not quite in pain, rather…something else entirely. Clawing up at Toji’s strong forearms as he’s twisting you ‘round by the ears, making your front face the table, his erection pushed up against your ass. 

Thick and throbbing.

You could feel the way he was throbbing furiously as your heated pussylips splashed slick all over him. “Such finicky creatures, always wanna run. Don’t you know that you won’t be able to outrun me?” 

“Toji, mm, don’t you know that my ears a s-sensitive?” Even now, the slightest rub against them made you lose your mind, and Toji - that bastard - was running his calloused thumb all down the soft insides of your ears. Driving you positively wild—

“Ears schmears.” Rolling his eyes with a gruff grunt, he guides a second hand to cup his thickened hilt. Smearing apart your swollen folds with it, he’s sandwiching himself in with your cunt. “Don’t think I don’t know how horny ya get when I pull on ‘em a little, bunny.”

“Horny?” You gape.

“Mhmm—think I can’t smell it on ya?”  As if to prove his point, his nostrils flare to heave in your saturated sunny lavender scent - and it’s like the more volume he’s intaking, the rougher he becomes, the more he’s rutting against that wet pussy of yours. “I can—fuck, I can. That day in class-”

Pushing his veiny shaft right up against your geysering orifice, just the slightest change in angle and he’d be stuffing you full with no mercy. “Oh, fuck-”

“I could smell it on ya, so fucking strong- you got so damn soaked that you were practically announcing it to the class that cute Miss Bunny liked to be thrown around.” Dragging and draaaaagging his hot, sloppy cock against your front. “She liked to be manhandled a little. Liked it rough- and that kitty of hers likes it even more.”

Bawling, “P-please, Toji.”

“And guess what?”

“What?”

“I would’ve killed any other bastard that found out about it.”

Your ears twitch in his grasp, and he’s leaning down to press a slight kiss on top of them. Something that makes you utter out, “No one knows- hck! no one but you.”

“Good.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice, the way his plump cockhead only seemed to throb even bigger. “Because I have a secret of my own, bunnygirl.”

“What’s that?”

“That day was exactly what threw me into rut.”

Oh.

And before you know it, you’re being spearheaded by Toji’s massive cock- swirlin’ his tip around the outer rim of your hole a few times. Around and aroooooound until your pupils are whirling in much the same way in the whites of your eyes.

Sliding his sultry way between those puffy lips of yours and inside—

“Oh.” Toji’s scarred mouth gapes open, Toji’s muscular body wracks with such powerful shivers. In a split-second - so fast that you don’t think he’s even thinking about it - he has one had white-knuckling those damn sensitive ears of yours. “O-ohhhhh, wait a minute. Hold on, bunnygirl.”

And then he’s snapping his toned hips to yours with such force that it sends you springing further up on your desk, sending important documents fluttering and falling all around you.

Scrambling to hold onto something for dear life, “Oh my god-”

“I said fuckin’ hold on.”

“But I didn’t-”

But when Toji Fushiguro tells you to hold you, you better know that he means it - otherwise you’re finding yourself simply drooling on the size of his monstrous cock, being limply manhandled downwards with one hand of his on your waist, and the other on your ears.

Grabbing those silky appendages and using it to yank you down- “Where’s the rush, little bunny?” And you could’ve sworn that Toji’s words were slurring, they were stumbling over one another. Scalding hot breath wafting your neck, right where your tender scent glands throbbed. “Got somewhere to be? Don’t run from the big, bad wolf, little bunny.”

“Oh my- ngh.” With another inch shovelled deep into your orifice - Toji doesn’t care whether you’re struggling to take him right about now, doesn’t care whether your sultry cunt was bulging with the size of him already.

He had one hand on your ears tuggin’ you back and forth like a ragdoll, meeting your hips with rude—hard hammer. Push after push.

Barely even proper thrusts, to be honest, you had Toji’s mind scrambled with just the slightest clench of your raw pussy. And he was fucking shaking as he held onto your body - for dear life, just as you were, not that he’d damn admit it - rutting against you like a damn dog. And he panting, too, as if he’s run a mile and suddenly his slick drool was pouring out in bucketloads against the side of your throat. “Come and play- hah, I’ve heard that bunnies like it quick and hard but come n’ play with the big, bad wolf a little…”

“And how m’I supposed to play when you do it like-” You’re whining at the sudden tug at your ears once more, not fully under his lecherous use to keep you bouncing back on his cock. “-this, ngh?”

“Why…don’t you know that wolves like it a little rough?”

And just as roughly as he swabbin’ away at your insides with his length, that velvety tip of his was just curved perfectly to push into even your tiniest orifice. To stretch you wide open. To bury himself even deeper even though you were sure his sheer size couldn’t.

And the more inches that were finding its way stuffed deeeeeep inside your pussy, the more and more that Toji was losing his composure. 

“Little bunny- oh, my bunny—” As if it was his own personal mantra, or he was a broken record player on repeat. 

Toji was so damn pussydrunk with only a few vicious thrusts, that he didn’t even like the way your body would bounce away with the recoils of his thrusts. And he’s pinning you down with everything he can- hell, he’s hiking up one of his meaty thighs to rest on the top platform of your desk and probing.

Muttering, almost to himself with how breathy and quiet it was. “Come back t’me- don’t run away- oh, don’t run away.” A few more inches find themselves mazing between your gummy walls, and your eyes roll back from the stretch. Still not properly bottomed-out yet. “The resistance- fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this resistance.”

Because your entrance juuuust big enough for him to do a valiant job in trying to fit inside. And he needed it to be bigger. Needed you to fit more…

“C’mon- this pussy.” Toji’s struck with the idea to snake his left hand between your trembling legs, swiping away at your pulsating clit. “K-kiiiiitty, her cute clit didn’t feel neglected by me, did she?” Scissoring you wider open, he giggles at the way they almost look like bunny ears. “Oh, my apologies, mama, now m’here and you just-” Each word punctuated with the more precise thwack! of his hips, “-have- to- take it, alright?”

“Take it take it take it-” Babbling away, you’re just fucked so utterly stupid on his cock by now.

“So you’re gonna take it all?” And it was a serious question. It was a question that could honestly break Toji Fushiguro right now- fuck, when did he get so weak? “Take it so that you can t-take my knot, too?”

“Oh—” So that’s what he’d been carnally hankering for this entire time, “It’s j-just so much—” You’re blabbering out, throat feeling as if it was cracking underneath all the pressure. In your hazy vision, you’re seeing stars as the wolf hybrid starts plunging his reddened tip against that favorite spot. The rotund end of his shaft tapping at your insides, sliding his velvety inches all inside and inside and inside. “Oh my god, there’s so much- what if I can’t fit your-”

“So much?” Toji breathes out a chuckle, “So much? Bunny, if this is so much- then I don’t wanna know how full you’ll feel when I finally fuck you pregnant.” 

You gawp, “You’re gonna fuck me pregnant-”

“Patience, bunny, no need to beg. Of course, I am.” The audacity of him- to twist your words and then have a snicker about it. Before a staggering probe of his length leaves you utterly speechless, “But before that we’ve still got a loooong way to go, don’t you know?”

Clawing at your desk, though the effort was futile. You could feel yourself slipping down his fat cock even deeper, with such lecherous squelches. “But y-you’re a wolf, and I’m a rabbit. I don’t know how it’ll even fit-”

“Oh, it’ll fit.”

He sounded oh-so-sure of himself, and you weren’t sure how - especially for a wolf hybrid that was currently rabid on your cunt. Ravenous for it. 

Blushing, perspiring, swearing any time you clenched too hard. 

But soon enough you’re getting your answer either way, because Toji’s giving a good swat at your clit- planting a final half-thrust between your legs before he’s finally bottoming out.

Finally.

“See…see?” He hisses through his teeth, canines bared and drooling right above your scent glands. “Who did you fuckin’ think I am- see? Told you I’ll make it fit.” Toji didn’t fucking care if you were still getting used to the feeling of him poking at your lungs, because he was already moving.

Already pounding you dizzy.

Already snapping his eyes down at your cunt and smiling at the way your folds were puckering whenever he pulled out and in. Taking him sloppily. Every inch of him. All the way from his slicked-up mushroom tip, and doooooown to his veiny hilt. His knot hadn’t started to formulate just yet, but he guessed that it would be soon. “Said you won’t be able to take me but you did—tha’s my girl.”

“Your girl- your girl, mmm.” All you can do at this point is surrender to the way that his pointed jackhammers felt, the force so hard that it was lifting your feet off the floor. 

“See how- fuck- well you’re taking me? See how yer made to be fucked full- by me? Stuffed with all my kids, fuck?” Toji grunts out, emptying his gluey wads of pre at your cervix. “Don’t hop away from me, cute lil’ bunny- fuck back into your Toji—yes.” Just so rough that your hips were quivering after each movement, even the slightest gyration back.

You could genuinely feel the vibrations of him bottoming-out with a hollow thud! at the very bottom of your pussy, “Do you feel me at your throat?” Burrowing his bruising tip in hard—“At your brain? Shuffling that pretty lil’ head of y-yours around, am I?”

“Oh my- ngh.” Shaking, you’re feeling so limp by now. 

“Yeahhh, proved my point.”

He still had that one hand down on your clit, getting drenched in the arousal that kept on spraying out of you. “S’okay, mama, you don’t have to think about anything but- ngh, baby names right now- ya hear me?”

Absent-mindedly babbling, “Baby…names…”

And that’s when he’s dragging you so far back by your bunny tears that your spine is arching into him- head against Toji’s prominent collarbone, your spittle coming out like a waterfall, your cunt being impaled by his thick length and ending up…right at your g-spot.

“Oh fuh-fuck—!” You’re keening, body flailing almost out of control had you not been pinned down by Toji’s hefty weight.

“Oh, fuh-fuck?” He’s saying, and it takes you a few more vulgar thrusts to realize that he’d just repeated what you said. Toji’s lower lip juts out in a mocking pout, “I don’t think s’a a good name for a baby, bunnygirl- too inappropriate, ngh, no?”

You’re gritting your teeth, cursing his mean words out in your mind - at least, whatever rational part of it was left. Using that, you’re still able to get your hips to fuck back into his- the flared line of his slit just perfectly rubbin’ against your sweetest spots. “Oh- r-right there, Toji.”

Again and again. 

It’s a pleasure that’s so overwhelming that you almost don’t hear his distant scoff- “Toji?” And you’re almost about to ask what was wrong before- “Mmm, but that’s my name, bunny, and you really wanna give it to our kid?”

“I’m going to fucking kill y-”

“Or maybe Toji Junior?” Toji crinkles his nose in thought, as if he wasn’t properly ravaging and ravaging your goopy insides until they felt all red and raw. “Hmmm…not a fan- what else have ya got up in that- ngh, pretty mind of yours, mama?” With absolutely no warning, the hand that’d been drawing circles at your clit suddenly piiiiinches that nub.

Drags it all out until you’re just shrilly whining, “Fuck, I think it’s coming-” And then comes out a garbled mess of moans and tears as you’re flashing through to your second high of the night.

This one comes to you suddenly, without any of the blissful crackles that usually preceded your orgasms - but you had to admit that this one was the strongest. The hardest. The sloppiest one you’ve ever encountered in your entire life.

You were so wet that even the slightest clench draws out a dampened sluuuurp from your pussy, piping out in dewdrops of cum that cling onto Toji’s shaft. His blushin’ hot tip reaches into your every corner, somehow bashing your g-spot exactly in time with your peaks.

“Mmm, bless you, bunny.” He’s replying, somewhat belatedly to your mess of noises. And even over the smacking of skin, you hear the exact moment that Toji’s coming to the realization. “Bless- blessing, oh—I think I have the perfect baby name, mm, bunnygirl.”

Blinking your teary eyes behind you, “And- and that is?”

“Megumi.”

You can’t deny that the thought of an actual baby name sends shivers down your spine, and you don’t need to think much of it before you’re looking over your shoulder and begging- “I-inside, Toji.” Sliding one of your hands down your front in emphasis, “Cum inside me if you want that- ngh, then…”

“Fucking hell-”

It’s just then with a few vicious plunges that Toji’s cumming, too. 

Stripe after stripe of his aching hot seed, it empties out in multiple layers against the back of your pussy. And you’re not sure whether you’re seeing white because of the sheer ecstacy or the sheer volume of him.

It’s so hot.

So wet.

Such sappy ribbons that lacquer a second gluey skin ‘round your channel, you can feel it splosh around you even with the tiniest movements. Thump-thump-thumped into your orifices inside by his cock.

He’s pumping out so many wads that they end up overspilling your cunt with almost no effort, a few dewy droplets that Toji has to scoop inside using his thickened thumb. “Fucking hell, you’re just begging to be fucked pregnant, aren’t you?” Snarling, he drives his hips even faster. “From the very beginning- begging to let me fill this kitty? Begging to be all r-roooooound and glowing with my child-”

You grab at the mahogany wood in front of you and he’s dragging you back-

“Begging to not leave this damn office until you’re carrying my child, hm?”

“Yes-” You gasp, “Yes yes yes yes—”

“Then get pregnant.” Toji grunts out, holding onto you- he moves on from your ears to grab at your fluffy tail and draaaaag you back, “Get pregnant get pregnant- get- fuck, you’re not thinking about tapping out yet, are you?”

Lolling your head against the table, in a puddle of your own drool. “N-no?”

“Good. Because I need you to say one thing, bun-” 

“And what is-”

“Knot.”

“Kn-ngh…” You can’t even finish that damned syllable—not when Toji’s then squeezing in the plump growth at his base like that. That firmness you’d been feeling pressed up against your cunt this entire time? That was none other than his knot.

Pushing and pushing.

Probing.

“C’mon- say it.” Toji reaches up a hand from your clit, lugging open your mouth. “Breathe in. breathe out. And saaaaaay it- knot.” Smushing your cheeks open, “Open yer mouth up real wide like this- yeah, now open those legs up real wide, too.”

“It’s actually fitting in-”

“Easy there- eeeeeasy there, don’t run.”

Sobbing out at the carnal stretch, “Knot- fuck—” Your eyes roll to the back of your head- you thought that Toji was big earlier, but you’d never felt anything like this. His rotund swelling, throbbing as he squeezes it inside of you with a wet plop! “You just made me take your-”

“Bet’cha never had something like this, hm? Now we know s’taking, bun.” He hums, tapping at the completely stuffed orifice of your cunt, filled to the brim, stuffed to every inch. “All safe n’ sound- but…”

“But?” Still trying to catch your breath.

“But if it doesn’t take right now…heh, well-” 

And before you know it, Toji’s reached over to gnaw his long canines down your scent glands. He’s pricking his sharp edges against the soft tissue, tearing into them, biting into them. Your scent is his and his scent is yours, completely infused: mates, as it went.

All before he’d even finished his program, Toji’s saturated air puffs out of his own scent glands- body still frenzied, almost as if he was looking to go into overdrive—“-I read somewhere that you bunnies can go at it two-hundred times a day.”

You really weren’t making it out of this alive.

.

.

.

Graduation Day of the APEX ASSIMILATION PROGRAM.

“It’s odd that madam bunny is late-”

“And on arguably the most important day of the program, too-”

“I hope she’s alright.” Ijichi looks nervously around the training field, as if willing you to manifest from behind a bush or so any second now. It was almost unnerving being here when you weren’t, always the first in class, always there to greet them.

Utahime herself was wringing her hands as she let her class mill about for the first portion of the day, peering at the building and the entrance from time to time. “Maybe…maybe we should just get on with it.” She says, much to the shock and disappointment of the class. A pondering silence falls over the beautiful day, “Perhaps she’s running late and shall get here before the graduation ceremony is over-”

“Maybe we should have someone call her residence and find out whether something’s wrong?” Surprisingly, it’s Ijichi that pipes up.

“Yeah, do that-”

“Oh maybe we should at the reception-”

“Oh, alright.” Utahime hums, “I’ll go call her, Ijichi you’re in charge of the class until I-”

“I’m here—!”

Ah, there. Ijichi smiles to himself in satisfaction, so there was really no need to call you anymore. 

Now you could carry on with the graduation as you were meant to, you could hand over the certificates, you could shake their hands with that pretty smile of yours, you could- you could speed-walk up to them with a certain wolf-hybrid on a leash.

Ijichi’s eyes damn near bulge out of his skin—a certain wolf hybrid on a leash?

Yes, the next time you’re walking back to your program, it’s with Toji Fushiguro on a leash.

The whispers burst out instantly-

“Oh my god- is that…someone certainly graduated alright.”

“So they have that kind of relationship? Look at the bite marks on her neck-”

“Wait, why is seeing the big, bad wolf all tame like this kinda…”

“Sorry I’m late.” You’re announcing, slightly out-of-breath with the added weight of your new companion. You’re twisting your hands in the tough material of the leash, one end of it held by you, and the other attached to the brand-new red collar wrapped around Toji’s neck.

His lightly grunting underneath his breath when you tug, snarling through his oh-so-favorite muzzle. And even the restraint wasn’t enough to stop some of the attendees from taking a step or two back, “A little someone was a bit…distracted and didn’t want to come to graduation- I convinced him, though. But I had to bring him in like this, ah- y’know.” They look at your slightly-trembling legs, they look at your glowing beauty, they look at the garish bonding mark on the side of your throat…and they can already guess what type of distraction that had been.

Oblivious to the roar of whispers (almost) you’re looking from your stunned class to your stunned colleague, her lips parted. “So it was a mating ritual—oh my god Shoko owes me two thousand yen.” Utahime reaches for her phone to call up Shoko this time, babbling something about coming down to the field right now.

“That’s not what you should be asking.” Toji pipes up for the first time, making nearly everyone freeze in place at his rough baritone. 

 In amusement, his tail swishes- his hand reaches up to your marked throat, your swollen scent glands (no longer covered), “Easy boy.”

“M’just saying.” Before finally coming at rest in front of you, in front of just where he’d filled that pretty womb of yours last night. “There are better questions to be asking now, heh.”

“L-like what?” Ijichi, bravely, is the only one to ask.

Oh, poor Ijichi…

“Like ‘boy or girl?’”

A/N. Two Toji fics in a (not quite) row?! GAAAAAASP- also I wrote this between an 18-hour powercut erm.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[an1m320v3r]

PLEASE DO ALEXIS NESS FOR LOST IN TRANSLATION NEXT!! 🥹

Lost in Translation

Blue Lock! Alexis Ness x reader

He's been flirting with you for weeks... but you don't know German.

Warnings: Fluff; Ness speaks bad English; NOT PROOFREAD!!!

[Lost in Translation → Julien Loki → Michael Kaiser]

Germany wasn’t the escape you planned — it was the escape you ran to.

You had been tired in the way that didn’t touch the bones but wrapped around the heart instead, tightening with every deadline, every conversation, every night you told yourself everything was fine when it wasn’t. So you booked the flight. You packed lightly. You made a promise to yourself that you would breathe and figure life out later.

And that was how you found yourself wandering across foreign cobblestone streets, map forgotten in your pocket, drawn only by the scent of fresh pastry and the promise of warmth.

The café wasn’t remarkable at first glance — a little corner place tucked between a florist and a bookstore, almost easy to miss if not for the old wooden sign hanging above the door: Kaffeehaus Mondlicht. Moonlight Café.

The bells chimed softly when you entered.

Warm air enveloped you, sweet with cinnamon and steamed milk, glowing gold from the lantern-like lights hanging low from the ceiling. Couples chatted quietly. A woman in the corner typed on a laptop. The barista hummed as she wiped a counter.

You felt something inside you loosen, the tension that lived between your shoulders melting just a little.

And then you saw him.

He was sitting alone near the window — a young man with pale skin and hair that faded into soft magenta tips, his lashes long enough to cast delicate shadows when he blinked. His eyes — magenta, too — were bright and expressive even from where you stood, as if someone had lit a small star inside them.

He noticed you at the exact second you noticed him.

His expression flickered — surprise, then embarrassment, then a soft, nervous smile tugging at his lips. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear even though nothing had fallen there. The gesture was small, almost shy.

You looked away quickly, cheeks warming.

He was… distracting.

You ordered your coffee with a smile that felt too tight and took a seat across the room, turning your face toward the window to avoid looking back at him.

Except…you could feel his eyes on you.

Little glances.

Barely-there looks.

Like he kept checking if you were still real.

Every time you pretended to take a sip, you caught him looking away too fast, lips twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or hide.

You wondered, fleetingly, who he was.

And why he looked at you like that — soft, curious, almost enchanted.

You brushed it off. You were just imagining it. Jet lag, probably.

You sipped your coffee and tried not to think about the boy with the magenta eyes.

The next day, he was there again.

Same window seat. Same warm drink cupped in his hands. Same soft smile when your gaze accidentally brushed his.

You ignored him. Badly.

And he kept looking. Also badly.

On day three, when you stumbled into the café half-asleep and decidedly unpretty, he straightened in his seat like someone had just pulled invisible strings attached to his back. And smiled. A real smile.

The kind that reached his eyes.

Like he was relieved you came back.

You pretended you didn’t notice the warmth blooming in your chest.

On day five, the inevitable happened.

You had just opened a book you weren’t actually reading when someone approached your table.

Your heartbeat jumped. You looked up. It was him.

Up close he was…pretty.

Soft jawline.

Eyes so bright they almost glowed.

And a strange sort of gentle intensity — like he noticed things most people didn’t.

He swallowed, ran his fingers anxiously through his hair, and said: “Hallo.”

You blinked. “…Hi?”

His smile grew, relieved.

“Darf ich mich setzen?”

He gestured to the chair across from you.

You had no clue what he said.

But he didn’t seem threatening, and he looked hopeful — painfully hopeful — so you nodded.

He lit up like someone had turned on the sun behind his eyes.

He sat. Carefully. Too carefully, like the chair might break under the weight of his nerves.

And then he spoke — rapid, soft German that sounded warm and musical in his accent, hands moving as if helping the story along.

You understood none of it.

But you nodded.

Smiled.

Forced a soft laugh when his own smile grew too bright.

He looked delighted.

Then he leaned forward, eyes shining with sincerity, and said quietly:

“Du bist… sehr hübsch.” You are… very pretty.

You didn’t understand the words, but the tone — the tone was unmistakable. Soft. Slightly shaky.

Affection pressed between consonants.

You blinked.

Nodded.

Smiled shyly because what else were you supposed to do when a handsome stranger spoke to you like that?

He inhaled sharply — like your reaction was a gift.

Your stomach flipped.

This became your new normal.

Every day, he approached you. Every day, he spoke in German — so passionately, so expressively — and every day, you nodded like an idiot who totally understood.

But even without the words, you understood him.

He was warm.

He was gentle.

He was animated, sometimes talking with both hands in a frantic swirl when he got excited.

He laughed easily.

Smiled constantly.

Looked at you like you were magic.

Then looked away like he wasn’t allowed to.

Sometimes his knee brushed yours under the table and he stiffened immediately — not pulling away, just blushing deeply as if the slightest contact scrambled his entire brain.

You found it adorable. Dangerously adorable.

But your favorite thing was how he listened — really listened — even to your nonsense.

The way his brows pulled together when you spoke English.

The way he leaned forward, studying your lips like he was trying to translate the shape of your sentences.

The way he smiled even when he didn’t understand a single word.

He didn’t try to correct you. He didn’t ask questions.

He just listened — like the sound of your voice did something to him.

And your heart started doing strange, warm things every time he appeared.

Some days, he walked you home.

You didn’t know how this began. Maybe you left at the same time. Maybe he timed it. Maybe it was coincidence — or maybe he’d been waiting for the opportunity.

The first time he asked — “Gemeinsam?” Together? — you nodded without knowing the meaning.

His face turned red so fast you almost worried. He rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin, then fell into step beside you.

He kept the pace slow, like he didn’t want the walk to end too soon.

Your hands brushed.

A tiny, tiny touch. He froze.

You pretended you didn’t notice.

He definitely noticed — eyes wide, lips parted, breath catching audibly — before he relaxed again, cheeks tinted rosy.

He looked like someone quietly falling apart.

You wondered if he always wore his heart so openly.

You wondered why you hoped he did.

And then came the day you saw him differently.

You were exploring the city alone, coat wrapped tight around you as the wind whipped through the streets. You wandered aimlessly, letting yourself get lost, until you stumbled across massive metal gates.

The sign read: BASTARD MÜNCHEN TRAININGSZENTRUM

You paused.

Soccer players rushed back and forth across the turf inside.

Shouts echoed.

Whistles blew.

The sound was loud, sharp, alive.

You should’ve walked away.

But then you saw him.

Alexis.

In uniform, sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, magenta eyes focused and burning like embers.

His jaw clenched as he sprinted.

Muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the lean lines of his body powerful and unexpected.

His breathing came out in visible white puffs, sharp and heavy.

He looked entirely different than the soft, smiling boy in the café.

He looked…beautiful.

And strong.

And alive in a way that made your pulse stutter.

You stared. Shamelessly.

Until he stopped mid-stride.

Until his eyes found yours across the fence.

Until he froze — like the world stopped for him, too.

His expression softened instantly.

Surprise.

Then warmth.

Then something fragile and overwhelming.

He jogged to the fence, breathless, chest rising and falling quickly.

“You…” he panted, pointing.

“…hier?” Here?

You panicked.

Smiled too fast.

Nodded too hard.

He brightened so dramatically you thought he might faint on the spot.

“Für… mich?” For me?

He pointed at himself, hopeful.

You didn’t know the words.

So you gave him a thumbs-up.

He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a choked sob — and pressed his hand against his heart as if steadying it.

That was the moment you realized he had feelings.

Real ones.

Soft.

Tender.

Messy.

And the dangerous part?

You felt something stir inside you in response.

Not full-blown feelings — but the spark of them.

The beginning.

A warm ache.

A small flutter.

Something you couldn’t brush aside anymore.

And he kept trying to ask you out.

And failing.

And trying again.

And failing again.

And falling apart a little more each time.

He tried four times before you realized he’d been trying at all.

The first attempt happened so naturally you didn’t even suspect.

It was late afternoon — golden hour — that warm glow that made the café look like something from a dream. You were already seated, tapping at your phone, when he rushed in with hair wind-tousled and a panicked sparkle in his eyes, like he thought you might not show up today.

He approached your table with a nervous energy you felt before he even spoke. “Hi…” he murmured, shyly — the English greeting he’d picked up from you.

Then he switched to his comfort zone, German.

“Willst du mit mir ausgehen?” Do you want to go out with me?

His voice trembled.

Just slightly.

Enough to betray how much courage it took him.

You didn’t know what he said.

You thought he was… offering you a pastry? A recommendation? A local dessert? He gestured vaguely at the table, and you, panicked by the long eye contact and the softness in his voice, nodded.

His entire soul left his body and re-entered with confetti.

He grinned — a wide, boyish, breath-stealing grin — and whispered something like,

“Wirklich…?” Really? and “Oh mein Gott…” Oh my god… and “Danke!” Thank you!

He left the café with the energy of someone who had just been resurrected.

And then he waited at a restaurant for an hour.

By himself.

In a nice shirt.

Because you’d unknowingly accepted a date.

He cried in the bathroom.

You didn’t know any of this yet.

The second attempt was even worse.

Not his fault.

Entirely yours.

He was walking you home — he did this more often now, instinctively falling into step beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets because he didn’t trust them not to reach for yours.

As you passed a bakery window, he inhaled sharply as if bracing himself for a punch.

Then, in a soft, trembling voice, he whispered: “Vielleicht… ein Date? Nur wir zwei?” Maybe… a date? Just the two of us?

Your brain, hearing tone not content, thought he was talking about the pastries in the window.

Maybe asking you to look.

Or maybe asking if you wanted to stop inside.

You nodded.

His heart exploded in slow motion.

He sighed — this long, shaky, relieved exhale — and his cheeks flushed warm pink all the way to the tips of his ears. He murmured something like,

“Sie sagt wieder ja…” She says yes again… as if he could barely believe his luck.

He bought flowers.

You didn’t show.

He placed the flowers on your usual café table the next day and sat with his head in his hands until his teammate dragged him away.

You didn’t know that either.

The third attempt was the most emotional one.

It was raining — the soft, mist-like kind that blurred the world into watercolor and made the city look romantic enough to break hearts. You were both standing under a shop canopy, waiting for the downpour to ease. The air smelled like petrichor and fresh bread from the bakery next door.

He was standing close.

Closer than usual.

So close you could see the raindrops clinging to his eyelashes.

He swallowed, gathering courage.

“Kann ich dein Freund sein?” Can I be your boyfriend?

The words were heavy, trembling — the most vulnerable he’d ever sounded.

But all you heard was a string of pretty German syllables and a hopeful look.

So you nodded automatically.

His eyes widened.

Then filled with tears.

Actual tears.

Not dramatic ones.

Not chaotic ones.

Soft, fragile, quiet tears — the kind born from years of not being chosen for anything except obedience and loyalty.

He whispered, voice cracking,

“Danke… danke…”

as if he’d been waiting his whole life to hear your answer.

You panicked because why was he crying??

What did you accidentally agree to??

Was he okay?!

He thought you were overwhelmed by emotion.

He held the sleeve of his jacket to his eyes, trying not to cry harder.

He walked home soaked.

From rain or tears — you would later learn — both.

The fourth attempt was when he started breaking.

And you saw it.

You didn’t understand it.

But you saw something in his eyes that day — something small and crumpled and scared.

It was near sunset, the sky painted with streaks of pink and orange that mirrored the magenta tint in his hair. You were sitting outside the café this time, wrapped in a light jacket, the air crisp around you.

He joined you silently.

No greeting.

No smile.

Just a soft, drawn look — cheeks pale, eyes dimmer than usual.

You didn’t like it.

“Alles okay?” you asked gently, the only German phrase you knew.

He smiled.

The fragile kind.

The kind that was meant to hide something but only revealed it more.

Then he asked:

“Bitte… gib mir eine Chance…?” Please… give me a chance…?

The words sounded like a plea.

Raw.

Soft.

Full of fear.

Your heart clenched.

You nodded because what else could you do when someone looked at you like that?

He stared at you — stunned — like your “yes” wasn’t a yes, but a miracle.

Like someone had reached into his chest and pressed sunlight against an old bruise.

He didn’t speak after that.

He just looked at you like he was afraid to breathe and scare the moment away.

And then he left early.

That was the moment you realized:

Whatever he felt for you… it was deep.

Much deeper than you’d thought.

Your chest tightened in a way you didn’t want to analyze.

Not yet.

The fifth attempt was when everything finally made sense — and everything fell apart at the same time.

It began with his eyes.

Normally bright.

Normally full of sparkle.

Normally soft.

But that day — they looked dull.

Like something inside him had cracked.

He sat across from you, hands clasped together near his mouth, eyes fixed on the table instead of you.

He’d never done that before.

You reached for your coffee, trying to pretend the air between you wasn’t heavy with unspoken things. But before you could say anything, he whispered:

“Maybe… English…?”

His voice shook.

You blinked.

That alone startled you — because he never initiated English first. Ever.

He looked up at you.

And for the first time since you met him…

He looked defeated.

Then he asked — in quiet, broken, heavily accented English — “Can you… be with me? Romance… date… us… together?”

Your coffee nearly slipped from your hand.

The world muted.

Time slowed.

Everything rearranged itself in your mind.

Your confusion.

His blushes.

His nervousness.

His tears.

His dramatic reactions.

His joy.

His heartbreak.

And worst: The four times he thought you said yes…when you had no idea what he’d said.

He watched your face fall in slowly dawning horror.

And his shoulders slumped as if your silence alone was confirmation of his worst fear.

You finally exhaled — shaky, embarrassed, panicked.

That was when your brain finally put all the pieces into one very horrifying, very obvious picture.

The café.

The walks.

The hair tucking.

The cheek kisses.

His tears.

His nervousness.

His trembling voice every time he asked you something.

You felt all the air leave your lungs.

“I—I don’t understand German,” you blurted out, voice cracking.

“I haven’t understood anything you’ve said. Not a single thing. For months.”

He stared at you like you’d just told him the moon was fake.

“No… German?” he whispered, like it physically hurt him to say it.

“No.”

“You—smile. You nod. Always. All the time!” His fingers tapped his chest in frantic little circles. “You look happy! You look… very cute happy!”

“I was panicking!”

“PANICKING???”

He looked personally offended — like you’d betrayed the laws of physics.

“Yes! I didn’t want to be rude!”

He made a noise.

Not a human noise.

Something like a wounded baby bird and a dying kettle.

“I ask you on date… many times…”

He held up one finger.

Then two.

Then three.

Then four.

Then a sad, shaky five.

“You say yes… EVERY time!”

You slumped into your chair, mortified.

“Oh, god.”

“Oh, god,” he echoed, dramatically rubbing his temples.

“I buy flowers… you never come. I wait at restaurant… you never come. I think—” he clutched his chest, “—maybe I am too much. Maybe she hates me. Maybe magic is fake.”

That part hit harder than it should’ve.

You felt guilt punch the breath out of you.

“Alexis… I didn’t know. I swear. I’m so sorry.”

His voice softened to something tiny and fragile:

“Is okay… if you do not like me.”

Your chest twisted, your heart stumbling over itself, and you reached out instinctively, placing your hand over his.

Warm.

Shaking.

Hopeful.

“I do like you,” you whispered.

“For real.”

He blinked.

Everything inside him stopped.

“You…” he swallowed hard, voice cracking, “…do?”

You nodded.

His breath left him in a single, trembling exhale — Then exploded.

“JA!!” YESS!! he yelled, leaping to his feet like a man possessed.

The café erupted.

Someone gasped, “Er hat ihr einen Antrag gemacht!” He proposed to her!

Another woman shrieked with joy.

An old man clapped so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

A teenager pulled out his phone to record.

A lady shoved a tiny bouquet of wildflowers into your hands.

“Glückwunsch!!” she squealed. Congratulations!

You sat there frozen, flowers in hand, confused.

Alexis panicked mid-celebration, waving his hands frantically:

“NEIN! KEIN ANTRAG! KEIN ANTRAG—KEIN RING—STOPP—HALT—BITTE—” NO! NO PROPOSAL! NO REGISTRATION – NO RING – STOP – STOP – PLEASE –“

But no one stopped.

Not even a little.

Someone even shouted, “KÜSS SIE!!!” KISS HER!!!

You wanted to sink into the floor.

Alexis covered his face with his hands.

“I want to die,” he whispered dramatically through his fingers.

“This is worst moment of my life and also best moment of my life and I hate it.”

You touched his arm gently.

He froze.

Then peeked at you between his fingers.

You held out your hand.

“Come here,” you whispered.

He lowered his hands, walked back to the table like a damp, confused puppy, and sat down. His cheeks were bright red, eyes watery, chest still rising and falling like he’d just run ten miles.

You leaned closer.

“Dating,” he repeated breathlessly.

“Not married.”

“Yes.”

He nodded.

Once.

Twice.

Then again, very slowly — the realization sinking in like sunshine into cold skin.

His voice softened into something sincere and trembling:

“Dating…”

His eyes glazed with emotion.

“You are… really… mine?”

Warmth fluttered in your chest.

“I’m yours,” you admitted quietly.

“If you still want me.”

His breath hitched.

His hand slid into yours — slowly, reverently, like he was afraid you might break.

“I want you,” he whispered.

“Since first moment.”

And then—

then he gently leaned his forehead to yours.

Not quite a kiss.

Not quite a hug.

Just a soft press of skin to skin, breath mingling, fingers tightening around yours.

Your heart pounded.

His did too — you could feel it.

He whispered against your skin:

“I promise… I learn English for you.”

A trembling exhale.

“So we never have… this big disaster again.”

You laughed softly, breath brushing his lips.

“And I’ll learn German for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you properly — wide-eyed, overwhelmed, full of wonder.

“Really…?”

“Really.”

He melted.

Completely.

His thumb brushed your knuckles — slow, warm, terrified and bold all at once.

“I… so happy,” he whispered.

“So… so… so happy…”

You smiled, cheeks warm.

“Me too.”

He made another tiny squeak — this time of pure joy — and hid his face in his hands again.

And the café, wrongly convinced they had just witnessed a proposal, applauded one final time.

You and Alexis sat there together — blushing, laughing, shaking, overwhelmed — and for the first time…

it felt like something real had begun.

•Masterlist•

[REQUESTS OPEN!!!]

©an1m320v3r

[indiewritesxoxo]

pick your player!

choose your route and clear each level!

content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, modern AU, f! reader(s), established relationships, breakups/makeups, all of these take place in the same au but with diff readers, oral (m! + f! receiving), piv sex, sukuna + naoya are their own warnings lol, gojo + choso being down atrociously for their girls :p

cyberbully!Sukuna x f2p!Reader

one two three four five six seven eight

cutscenes : five stars

ex-bf!Naoya x influencer!Reader

one two three four five six

streamer!Choso x fangirl!Reader

one two three four five six

cutscenes: game over?

chronically online loser loverboy!Gojo x nerdy!Reader

one two three four five six seven

cutscenes: marriage material

pro-gamer!Geto x roommate!Reader

one two three four five six seven

youtuber!Nanami x cosplayer!Reader

one two three four five six seven

bonus:

their valentine's day gift to you + your gift to them

first big fight + making up

wedding bells + honeymoon

horny halloween

dilfs!