Heyyy guys I need something I need a first person pov fan fic it can be like au or whatever but the ships could they be like Rinsagi or bachisagi or ryusae actually any bllk ship works I LOVE THEN ALLLL
If The spelling is bad please forgive me first time in a while typing with nails đđ
Hi guys this is like my first post and itâs for one reason only I NEEDD
A fic thatâs with shidou and sae and like theyâre dependent on each other or more like shidou is dependent on sae it can be in like an alternate universe idm it can be overly freaked out thatâs chill .Also i need good ones even for rin and isagi please im desperate but for them they can be more toxic and hate fucking yk the usual
cw: somophilia noncon drugging panty stealing pervy behaviors from Sukuna and toji, implied Sukuna x toji
your Mom kicked you outâ it was so sudden. Apparently she needed âspaceâ and was just tired of being a mom? luckily you found a place fairly quick. Youâd just have roommates and it couldnât be that bad⊠right?
and when moving in, it wasnât. it was actually niceâ they helped you set up your room and gave you a month to find a stable job, how generous of them. Maybe too generousâŠ
IckyRoommates!Toji and Sukuna stealing your dirty laundry whenever youâre not looking.. putting it between then whenever they rut against each other. They always put it back tho, and with a little treat ă €âĄ
They always find a reason to press up against you , either being behind you when youâre getting something from the cabinet or pressing your hips against theirs. Something they even take it a step further and steal all of your panties. Seeing you squirm and hold your legs together makes their cock jump, especially when youâre too shy to even ask about it, even if they ask whatâs wrong you brush it off. Itâs intoxicating to them.
Inevitably they start to do more, get more handsyâ they grope your ass whenever you walk by, toji always gives it a hard slap. Whenever you confront him (or at least try to) he always shrugs it off as just jokes and you need to learn how to not be so sensitive. Sukuna on the other hand, squeezes your hips and letâs his hand trail up your sides. Sukuna always finds ways to tease you, sometimes hes wearing low sweatpants showing off his happy trail or its him not wearing any boxers and man spreading on the couch. They try to do anything that gets a reaction, even if itâs a tiny one.
And sometimes whenever they cook dinner they add a little extra something in your food, jussstt so you can sleep good 㠀⥠Toji slides your panties to the side so he can rub his heavy cock between your plush thighs. Soft groans and grunts can be heard from your room, after teasing himself with the slick from your cunt he, slowly slips his cock in
,,Fuck sweetie.. pretty pussy squeezinâ meââ you shift slightly in your sleep, the only thing giving him an active response is your twitching cunt and slight moans. Toji could do this all nightâ and he did, he only stopped rightt before ur alarm went off; he quickly lapped up your messy juices and fixed your panties before you wake up.
Of course after hearing your night with toji sukuna wanted a turn. He made a hefty dinner, so much so that you went to sleep almost immediately. It took no time for him to sneak into ur room and rip your panties off. He slides his cock between your folds, your wetness making him ache
âBeen waiting for this.. fuckinâ teaseâ without a second thought he slams his hips into yours. The pace is unforgiving as he holds you up to angle deeper into you. Plapsâ and the sounds of skin slapping bounce off the walls; Sukuna dips his head into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark on you
This time when you wake up Sukuna is still there, you can feel his cock resting inside of you. You hold your breath as you inch away, you only get so far before you hear a mumbled voice behind your head âstop moving, need some restâ his hands wrap tighter around your waist as he pulls you back in. You whimper slightly at the thought of staying like this for however long, especially since you donât remember how you got like this
before your thoughts can spiral to much, you see toji crack open your door. Your eyes light up slightly at the thought of toji saving you from whatever this is. But instead he leans down and gives a kiss to your forehead
âDont move to muchâ breakfast will be ready in a minute doll, â your eyes water as you mumble âwhyâ but he starts rubbing your face and cooing at you âdonât think to hard right now, yeah? Brains not good for thinking or workinâ just stay right where you areâ Toji plants another kiss on your forehead and lips before giving Sukuna one
âIâll wake you two up when foods doneâ even with his words youâre still in a state of confusion. Is this the first time? What does he mean about working? you have to pay your bills. All these questions flood your mind as your heart sinks deeper and deeper into your chest.
If a website has a paywall, like New York Times, DO NOT use the ctrl+A shortcut then the ctrl+c shortcut as fast as you can because then you may accidentally copy the entire article before the paywall comes up. And definitely don't do ctrl+v into the next google doc or whatever you open because then you will accidentally paste the entire article into a google doc or something!!!! I repeat DO NOT do this because it is piracy which is absolutely totally wrong!!!
Also do NOT append "12ft.io/" before a URL ! Typing an URL like this https://12ft.io/<URL> will redirect to a site that would break the display of the page by removing the paywall !
Honestly it's kind of prohibited to mash CTRL+P before some paywall windows can load in to get a PDF of the article. Really shouldn't be done tbh very dangerousđ€·đżââïž âïž
his thrusts were rhythmicâ using momentum to slam himself balls deep into your cunt with every snap of his hips.
the pleasure became so overwhelming that a signal rushed to your leg to kick him involuntarily. he stops. his cock was steel buried into your soppy folds but he doesn't move.
you didn't mean to kick him away, but you did, and now, he's not so happy with you.
he grunts, a look of disbelief flashing over his face. "what was that? are ya' trynna run from my cock?"
"nâno, at least not on purpose," you whine. "i-i justâ"
"does it hurt that bad? is it too big for you?" he cuts you off. "save your excuses, you're going to take it. besides, did ya' really think you can run from me?"
he hooks an arm underneath your back to lift you flushed against him, tightly locking you in the position, while the other moved to lift one of your legs that was so desperate to prevent him front continuing.
your body moves quickly to stop him but he's too strong.
"look at ya', fightin' me and all," he coos, watching in amusement as your helpless body limps as it realises you have no choice but to take him. "that's it, good girl."
the moniker makes you twitch underneath him. the angle gave him an advantage of easier access, which made it easier to assault your g-spot until you shook in his arms. his depredation on your already sore pussy kept going on.
"ha-ah, you tried to run before but now you're taking me so well," he teases, feeling as your hole flutters around him so cathartically.
the pleasure coils up in your abdomen, feeling as if you were about to combust. the lower part of your body ached as the sound of his member squelching into you reverberated around the room lewdly.
you moaned endlessly. "i-i'm sorry! i seriouslyâ fuckâ didn't mean to!" you try to reconcile with him but his pace only goes faster.
your pants grew faster as pain started to build up in your muscles from being stuck in a suspended position. your hands clawed at his back, trying to relieve the tension building up in your body.
"if you really are, you're going to take it, right? milk me dry until you're filled to the brim?" he responds, a grin decorating his lips. "or is it too much? are you going to kick me again? well, it's not gonna work."
you shake your head desperately as the sounds of skin slapping grows louder and increasingly rapid.
"take it, take it." he demands, giving you the last hard thrusts before letting you cum all over, bits of it spilling from the minute gaps.
he lets go of you, dropping you back onto the bed with a soft thud. you push yourself to lean onto the pillows, but he's quick to grab you again.
"noâ no, we're not done until i say so," he grabs your hips before you fully collapsed onto the soft mattress that you yearned for.
and you feel the intrusion of his cock again, full of desire and hunger.
ïž” àł mdni. satoru and suguru are losing their minds trying to fit inside you at the same time
itâs the first time youâve all tried this, and the moment suguru starts pushing in alongside satoru, satoru lets out a shaky, breathless laugh.
âholy shitâ this is so tight,â he whines, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressed to your shoulder. his cock twitches hard as your pussy stretches around both of them, slick and burning. âi can feel you, suguruâoh my god, i can feel your dick rubbing against mine.â
âshut up,â suguru grits out, but his voice is weak, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps. heâs trying to stay calm, but the way your walls flutter and squeeze around them both is driving him insane. every tiny shift makes him feel satoruâs cock sliding against his, hot and throbbing. âfuck⊠sheâs taking us so well.â
youâre shaking between them, stuffed full, stretched to your limit. a broken moan spills from your lips and both men groan in unison.
satoru starts moving firstâshallow, desperate little thrusts that make suguru curse under his breath. âslow down, you idiotâ ahh, shitââ suguruâs hips jerk anyway, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat. theyâre both panting, sweat-slicked chests pressed to your body, hands gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise.
youâre still shaking from the two orgasms they pulled out of you earlier with their tongues, licking and sucking until you were sobbing and oversensitive. now every single nerve feels raw and electric. the stretch of both cocks at once is almost too much â too intense, too full, every tiny movement sending sparks shooting up your spine.
âsheâs so fucking wet,â satoru gasps, half-laughing, half-moaning. âiâm gonna cum so fast, this is embarrassingââ
âme too,â suguru admits through gritted teeth, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone. his hips snap harder, chasing the tight drag of your cunt and the filthy slide of satoruâs cock against his own. âcanâtâ canât hold it.â
they start moving together, messy and uncoordinated, both of them whimpering and cursing every time they thrust in at the same time. the pressure is insane. the feeling of being pressed so tightly against each other inside you is too much.
satoru comes first with a loud moan, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you. the moment his cock pulses, suguru follows right afterâgroaning long and low, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you too. they cum at the same time, thick and hot, both cocks twitching against each other while your pussy milks them dry.
they stay buried inside you, panting, trembling, foreheads pressed together above your shoulder.
satoru lets out a weak, almost delirious laugh.
âweâre doing that again⊠like⊠immediately.â
suguru just groans, still twitching. âshut up⊠but yeah.â
MARK GRAYSON !! EVE WILKINS !! REX SPLODE !! ZOE THOMPSON (TECH JACKET) !!
DC COMICS
BRUCE WAYNE !! ROY HARPER !! DICK GRAYSON !! WALLY WEST !! JASON TODD !! KARA ZOR EL !! CLARK KENT !! HAL JORDAN !! DIANA OF THEMYSCIRA !! TIM DRAKE !! DONNA TROY !! CONNER KENT !! KORIAND'R !! SELINA KYLE !! BARBARA GORDON !! STEPHANIE BROWN !! TALIA AL GHUL !! DINAH LANCE !! BARRY ALLEN !! LOIS LANE !! MINHKHOA KHAN !! BATLANTERN !! REST OF FEMALE CHARACTERS !! DC GIRLS P!LINKS !!
please be super honest, do you guys think my masterlist is messy?? bc i write for a lot of characters and a lot of fandoms and idk if it's getting messy and uncomfortable to search for stuff >.<
With your husband gruesomely murdered, the towns sheriff becomes obsessed with filling in as both your husband and the father of your child
tags. no curses âą western au âą age gap âą sheriff gojo âą widow reader âą older reader âą yan gojo âą murder âą isolation âą manipulation âą coercion
a big thanks to @envy-of-the-apple for being the inspo behind this piece of work. a wonderful dc writer with lovely complex fics, i hope you all enjoy his works as much as i do.
The first time you met the sheriff, you were in the general grocer. There was a basket slung around your arm and you had long since given up on controlling your eight year old daughter, Kugisaki.
Sometimes, you've found, that as a parent, you'll have to pick and choose your battles. The only person she'll listen to is her father (she thinks so highly of him)âand his idea of discipline is a kiss on the brow and a coin in her palm.
If Kugisaki wants to wear her finest dress with the ruffles and delicate lace and all the fixins for her first official 'day out on the town', you'll let her. You'll have to go out today anyway, and it won't do for people to see you with a put out child. That will reflect badly on your husband.
It's good to make a first impression, she said, voice high pitched and matter of fact with youth. Thats what Daddy says.
Well, you told her, There's no arguing with that.
The woman at the front counter doesn't seem to mind Kugisaki skipping around in the store, singing to herself loudly. And lucky for you, you've chosen a good hour to come down. There are only three more customers present and if anything, they seem happy to see your daughter so chipper.
You linger by the fabric bolts. Your husband could use a new pair of trousers, you think. Fresh starts require a fresh foot, and all of that. And Kugisaki...perhaps she would like another day-dress or two. For school.
It has nothing at all to do with the cerulean blue brocade that has caught your eye.
You're being practical. You will not take your glove off in this store and you will notâwell, you only want to make sure the quality is good. You don't want to be cheated with fabric that'll fray the moment you get a needle to it.
You have to shift about, in order to do it. Take off your glove, you mean. With a soft grunt, you pass the basket filled with miscellaneous items you forgotten to buy before moving to pull the glove off of one singular hand.
Your brows jump to the middle of your forehead. Your lips purse, pleased. There's a slight texture to the silk brocade. Like scales of a snake. Either way, it's beautiful. But you aren't going to buy it. No, because it's impractical. Improper too. Such a fabric would suit a lady far younger than you.
The bell chimes overhead the door, successfully bringing you out of your stupor. You snatch your hand away from the fabric as though you've somehow been burned hot, swiveling on your foot to find your daughter.
"Well, excuse me, little lady" A masculine voice says, white hat obscuring his face as he peers down at your daughter. "I don't think I've ever seen you around these parts"
Kugisaki holds her dolly underneath her arm and rocks back and forth on the heels of her brown boots. "We just moved here"
"We?â"
The man goes to say something else, but you don't care to hear it. You cross the store faster than you ever thought possible, gripping Kugisaki tightly around the wrist and pulling her behind you.
Heart rabbiting in your throat, you swallow around the panic lodged there. You lift your steel gaze to the stranger to...you don't know. Politely give him a piece of your mind, but your words get stuck in your windpipe.
Blue. His eyes, they're the prettiest shade of blue.
A slow smile pushes its way onto the mans face. Like he's trying not be amused and failing miserably at it. He's handsome, devastatingly so. You won't let your gaze drag down his body, but his shoulders are broad and oh god, there's an unmistakable star pinned over his heart.
"O-oh you must be the sheriff..." Your voice sounds breathy and awed, even to your own ears. That causes you to grimace. "I apologize...I thought you were..."
What were you thinking? That he was an outlaw, coming to kill your daughter? Ridiculous. By the looks of this man, he doesn't have a murderous bone in his body.
"No offense taken" The sheriff says, grinning so hard his eyes gleam with it. "You musta just moved in, near the apple orchard?"
"Yes, that's right" You answer simply, offering no other information. In truth, when you first moved in, there was a constant stream of visitors. Too many for you to keep up with. Contractors, farmhands, house staff, businessman. If the sheriff was among that long list, you have no idea.
You lessen your grip around Kugisaki's wrist once she begins to squirmâwanting freedom. You let go of her wrist; but you don't let her out of your sight, drawing her body in close to your side.
"It's a lovely house" He says, and holds out his hand for you to shake. "And it's lovely meetin you, too, Miss. My name's Satoru."
Miss? Oh, so he's a jester and a sheriff.
You fumble for a moment, though eventually pass him your gloved hand for him to shakeâtrading pleasantries. Only, for him to completely bypass it and taking your bare hand instead.
Satoru does not shake your hand. No, he lowers himself and presses a kiss right against your knuckles. One that lasts far too long to be proper. Holds it in his sure grip, even after he's lifted his head again.
"I'm married" You blurt, rushing to take your hand back with a flaming hot face. Cursing your absent mind, you slide your hand back into the glove, wiggling your fingers for good measure.
"Happily?" Satoru inquires, and holds his hat to his chest. At your panicked expression, the sheriff laughs. "Alright, Miss. Point taken. You just let me know when that changes, you hear?"
"It won't" You tell him, sternly, huffing. "Kugisaki. It's time to go"
"Mama, I want my candy"
You turn to fix with her a Look. Not now, God, please not now. "Kugisaki" You repeat, lips pursing. "You have plenty of treats at home. Ijichi is waiting with the carriage. Let's not keep him"
"I don't want those" She says, stamping her foot and crossing her arms over her chest. "They sell watermelon candies here! I want that"
"You don't want those" Satoru interjects, leaning down so that he and your daughter are eye level. He sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry. "Trust me, darlin. I've had every candy in the world, I know what 'm talkin about."
"You have?" She asks; eyes shiny with awe. Kugisaki's always been enthused about the world. "Really? You have?"
Satoru nods with the same level of seriousness as an executioner on hanging day. He digs into his pocket and presses a candy into her hand. "Here, why don't you take this, it tastes like raspberries. You ever eat a raspberry?"
Kugisaki shook her head.
"Well; that's a darn shame" He says, really playing it up now. He stands back to his full height and smiles over her little head. At you. Satoru's smiling at you. You force your face into one of neutrality. "They're good. But this candy will taste even better when your ma is in a good mood. Woman as pretty as your ma makes everythin better"
Beside you, Kugisaki chitters. She doesn't seem to understand whats truly funny, but the sheriff is laughing, so she does too. Children are impressionable like that.
"It was nice meeting you, Sheriff" You press, redirecting the conversation into one of propriety. Shameless. This man is absolutely shameless. "But I think we best be leaving, now"
Everything you learn about the Sheriff is against your will.
He's a Gojoâbig name around these parts (around the entire region of the southwest to hear people tell it). A little young for the position, 26 to your 35. But he's good for it.
Everyone loves him. From the grumpiest of old men to the more reluctant babies and toddlers, still tucked close to their mother's skirts. You've been living here for close to nine months now. And you've seen him roughing with the children, flirting playfully with sweet old women and swapping horse-care advice with seasoned farmers and the like.
Kugisaki is no different. She's utterly charmed by this man who claims to have seen the world, always demanding for stories of other places and the people he's met there. No matter how you try to pull her away, she won't budge.
Worst part is, Satoru never seems to mind. Always says, why, she ain't bothering me none, in that sleepy little drawl of his. How he has time for all of this and to be the sheriff, you have no idea.
You suppose it makes it easier to slack off when theres virtually no crime anyway.
"This used to be a real dangerous place" Says Mei-Mei, whom you don't really like, but who has attached herself to your side anyway. "Terrible outlaw problem. Couldn't even head down to the grocer without bein accosted and man-handled"
That causes you to pause, fingers stilling against the your needle and thread before resuming. "Is that so?"
It's some sort of picnic. Though, the food has long since been abandoned and packed up. Now, the children chase each other around, hooting and hollering. You can see your darling Kugisaki among them, leading two little boys by the wrists on some loudly proclaimed adventure. One of them, sandy hair that looks pink in the spring sunlight, looks incredibly happy to be there. The other...
Well. It's all fine and dandy that Kugisaki has been able to make friends so quickly.
Kugisaki is bold in ways you are not. Perhaps she gets it from her father. You're able to make do, and the other women and mothers don't seem to mind your bouts of awkwardness or the fact that your rather content to be alone. Your closest confidant is Ieiri, but as the towns sole doctor, she's constantly busy.
But Mei-Mei is a close second. Where others have given up on trying to learn your background or anything about your personal life, she has not. She's scarily persistent. But one good thing about keeping Mei-Mei close is that she acts as a buffer against some of the more...annoying personalities in town.
However, no matter how shes presses, you keep her at a (strict but) friendly distance. You won't confide in her but you'll accept her invitations to tea and other events such as this one.
It's nice to get away from the ranch every now and again. Your husband is constantly working, always on business trips. And he makes enough money to hire help so now you can't even use housework to pass the time.
"We still don't know how he did it" Mei-Mei continues, sipping at what you suspect might be wine. "I mean, he's only one man"
It doesn't take a genius to figure out who she could be talking about. Satoru Gojo is all anyone seems to talk about in these parts.
"Well, I'm glad he does such an excellent job in keeping the town safe and protected" You say, which you think is a nice middle ground. "Bandits seem like such awful news"
Mei-Mei studies you for a long moment. There's something almost...cruel, in the analytical way she engages with the world around her.
"Yes," She says, cryptically. "They are."
There's layers hidden in her words. There usually is. You don't know why it gives you such pause, hands stilling once more. You lift your eyes from the tiny doll in your hands to peer at Mei-Mei.
Her dark, enchanting eyes slide down to the doll. The corners of her mouth quirk up in a grin. Neither of your friends have children. They are also unmarried.
Mei-Mei, is so wealthy she doesn't have to. You come from old money, but Mei-Mei puts yours to shame. From what you've noticed; everyone seems to both respect and slightly fear her. Same with Ieiri (though not as wealthy). Why either of them seem drawn to you, a married woman with a child, puzzles you endlessly.
But before Mei-Mei can speak again, your daughter wanders over to you. There's a sheen of sweat covering her skin and she's red faced and glowing with happiness. It's hot enough to melt the skin off your back but Kugisaki seems to thrive in it.
"Hi Mama," She titters, sucking on a piece of candy. She seems to remember her manners and turns towards your friend. "Hi, Miss Mei-Mei"
"Hello darlin" Mei-Mei replies, voice smoother than velvet. "What a lovely flower you've got there. You breakin hearts already?"
Kugisaki's face screws into one of acute displeasure. You hadn't noticed it before, but you do now. There's a daisy tucked behind her left ear. "The Sheriff gave it to me"
This causes you to freeze. He's been doing that lately, giving Kugisaki little gifts. A doll, candy, coin. Even when you tell him she doesn't need it. Never in the presence of others though. And certainly not at a family picnic.
"He certainly seems to have taken a likin to you," Mei-Mei says breezily, and even with the smile in her tone, you feel mocked.
"He and my husband do business often" You tell her vaguely, which is semi-true. Whenever your husband is home, Satoru stops by for dinner at least once or twice a week. He helps around the ranch or retreats up your husband's study to discuss a manner of things that honestly don't interest you.
"I had no idea" Mei-Mei replies, which you suspect is a lie. "He and your husband must be good friends if he insists on dotin on you and your daughter so much"
There's a degree of knowing in her voice. Your head jerks up to look at her. "W-well, I wouldn't say he's doting on either of usâ"
"No?" She interjects, head tilted to the side, shade from the large tree casting shadows across her beautiful face. "Then that isn't him headin towards us right now?"
It is.
Satoru strolls up to where you and Mei-Mei are sitting, easy as day. He's wearing a black hat today and there is nary a drop of sweat on him. He's been circling around the grounds for a while now, steadily creeping closer.
"Hello, Sheriff" You greet amicably, conscious of how everyone seems to have turned to watch the interaction. Very pointedly, you take care not to look at him.
There's a glimmer of challenge in the depths of his blue eyes. He takes a step closer and lowers himself down on the picnic blanket. "Miss, you'll hurt my feelins, you keep on. I told you already, call me Satoru"
Your lips press into a thin line. You've told him that you don't like being called 'Miss', either. 'Miss' implies that you are young or unmarried and you are obviously neither.
"Hot out, isn't it?" You say, a redirection so clear even Mei-Mei beside you ends up chuckling.
"You'll get used to it, 'm afraid" He replies, and smiles as though you've just said something particularly witty. He leans closer, peering at Kugisaki, who is dozing off. He whistles, and grins. "Saw her playin with my Megumi, and the Itadori's little Yuji. The three o' them get on better than peas in a pod"
'My Megumi'? "I had no idea you had a son" Your tongue tithers, without your consent. Inwardly, you curse yourself. The last thing you want to do is invite him for conversation. But by the way Satoru makes himself comfortable on the picnic blanket affirms the dread in your stomach. He's here to stay.
You've heard Kugisaki speak on this infamous Megumi before. Black spiky hair, sullen little frown, so glum you wouldn't have been able to guess that Satoru was father even if your life was on the line.
"A daughter too" The sheriff gives you another one of those ear splitting grins. He sombers rather quickly, and pats the space on the blanket between your bodies. "Though not by blood. Don't worry Miss, 'm an unmarried man"
Cousin?! Your eyes go as wide as saucers, looking between the two. They've both got that shocking head of white hair and the height to match, but thats where the similarities between them end.
"Early bird gets the worm, and allat" Satoru waves her off, eyes not leaving yours once. He catches you staring and offers a smile. He leans in to whisper conspiratorially. "Distant, very distant cousins. We Gojo's make her family look like street beggars"
You've seen Mei-Mei's family. So that only leaves one question : just how powerful is the Gojo family?
Mei-Mei, who has always been prideful and especially about her family, rises easily to the bait. "As powerful as you are...and yet you've become only the Sheriff of a small town" she says, voice soft but no less cutting. She stands, dusting away invisible dirt. "How unfortunate for you"
To make matters worse, Satoru only laughsâand doesn't look insulted one bit.
She turns her head and nods down primly at you. "Take care. I'll be sure to see you for next Sunday's charity brunch"
She isn't asking. Mei-Mei never does. But you have nothing else to do, and Sundays are more boring than you'd like to admit. So you agree, and Mei-Mei murmurs something that sounds like good luck.
Pleased, Satoru watches her stalk off. You're alone with him, you realize. Sure, there might be people present and Kugisaki nodding off against your stomach...but everyone is too busy pretending they don't see him rather than doing something about it.
"Ah! Right!" Satoru says suddenly, snapping his fingers to draw your attention. "Was wonderin if you'd like to come over tonight. Can bring the little Missusâshe an' Megumi can play. Might even get along with Tsumiki"
He can't be serious.
"Sheriff," You say, slowly, because you can't understand why he isn't able to just get it. "While that sounds like a mighty fine offer, I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Why not?" He asks, lightning quick. His eyes are wide, like he truly doesn't understand. Good Lord above, he's going to make you spell it out for him, isn't he?
"My husband wouldn't think it proper for me to be alone with an unmarried man at his place of residence"
Satoru chuckles at that. "Your husband ain't as obsessed with propriety as you are, Miss. And a damn shame that is"
Your spine straightens at the insult wedged between the ominous warning. But before you can think of something to say, the good sheriff cuts you off.
"Let's say...two people made a vow" Satoru begins, brim of his hat obscuring his features. "And if one person ain't holding to that vow, say he's gettin it from somewhere elseâwhat does that mean for the person who still is? Shouldn't they get to mess aroun' a little? Only fair"
The meaning is unmistakable now. You've never had an inkling on whether or not your husband was faithful. You've always just...trusted him. But now that Satoru's put this nugget of doubt inside your head, you can't stop thinking about it.
Uncontrollably, your eyes slide down to Kugisaki, who is fully asleep now.
Most men wouldn't want a daughter. A girl can't carry on her daddy's name the same way a son can. You never questioned the fact that your husband loved Kugisaki. You won't do anything to change that.
"If there was a third party in that vow" You murmur, stroking her cheek softly, feeling the warmth of her skin. "Then, the unfaithfulness won't matter. Not when leaving means jeopardizing a child"
The sheriff looks disappointed with your answer. There's no other way to describe the knit between his brows and the frown of his lips.
"Ya'll are in more trouble than you realize" Satoru says ominously, and stands. He removes his hat from his head, holds it close to his chest. He shakes his head sadlyâlike he knows something you don't. "Damn shame. A good woman like you don't deserve it, not at all"
And then he's off, stalking back down the hill, turning heads with every step he takes.
You used to live in the city, before you married your husband. Your maiden family was a wealthy one from up north. They owned half of the crabbing ships on the coast. But the west...the west had gold. Gold your family desperately wanted.
So they married you off to your husband, who is only eight years older than you. He was newer money. No parents; no living family other than a handful of brothers that he didn't keep in contact with. And he brought you west.
Being married to him was not awful. There was no love there; but you were nearly forty. Love wasn't something you believed in anymore.
You convinced yourself, over the years, that this was for the better. Love was a fickle thing, bringing only temporary joy with a lifetimes worth of grief. You've heard about the things people do for love, and you want no part in it.
Besides. It's different for men than it is for women. A man can father an entire litter of bastards, and it won't damage his reputation one bit. Even if your husband was being unfaithful, there was nothing you could do about it.
You shake your head, pushing such thoughts away from your mind. Whatever deal your husband struck while away must have been a good one. He came back with an entire chest full of new clothes for Kugisaki. Dresses and pinafores and bloomers. Big bows, all in an assortment of pretty fabrics and colors. Lovely little shoes. A play- pretend tea set with real china.
Your gifts were simpler, but they held true to who you were. You never enjoyed large, lavish things. More books. Some bolts of fabric in colors you enjoyed. A little extra spending money. You weren't impressed by expensive jewelry, or useless trinkets. Not when your own father spoiled you plenty rotten yourself growing up.
But the high had lasted only for two days before he broke the news over dinner that he had another business trip to leave for.
You managed to hold your tongue. Kugisaki was loudly disappointed enough for both of you. And by then, it seemed too childish to nag your husband on top of your daughter's whining.
Instead, you'd be forced to pick up the shattered pieces of Kugisaki's heart. Again. Dealing with her foul temper and harsher words. Her tears and night terrors. And then her father will return just when you've gotten her into a sense of stability to wreck everything you've built with her.
A mother endures, you remind yourself, rolling out the dough for this week's bread.
Three sharp raps at the front door pull you from your mind. "I'll be there in a moment!" You call out, quickly wiping the flour from your hands onto your apron and tottering over to the door.
The wary smile drops from your face when you see the Sheriff standing on your doorstep. He removes his hat from his head, black, and presses it into his chest. Two men stand behind him, dressed the same.
"Sheriff...?" You prompt, feeling uneasy, eyes fearfully jumping between the men. Your hand flies out to steady yourself against the door. Something is wrong. You know it is. You just have no idea what. "Is everything alright?"
"'fraid not" Gojo says, at last, and inclines his head towards you. "Might we come in?"
Wordlessly, you step aside and let them in. Gojo, who has been to your house dozens of times, beelines towards the blue settee and makes himself at home. His fellow officers busy themselves with openly looking through your things.
"What's the meaning of this?" You ask, impatient, snatching a glass figurine out of one officers hands, fixing him with a glare.
"Your husband was found dead, Miss," Gojo says, voice somber and gentle. The glass shatters into a thousand pieces as it crashes to the floor.
One officer helps you down into a chair. The other, following the Sheriff's instruction, leaves and returns with a broom and pan.
"P-pardon..." You start to say, and then your mouth shuts. Then you open it again. For a while, nothing comes out. "Are you sure?"
Grimly, Gojo nods. "Verified the body myself" he says and begins to recall the grisly tale of how they happened upon his body.
Your husband was found, miles away from the train station, deep in the woods. He had been shot six times, though the town's doctor says that isn't the official cause of death.
The official cause of death was a severe blow to the head with a blunted weapon. So he had survived each and every one of those gunshot wounds. And he had laid there, likely for hours; unable to call out for help.
"Is it alright if I send them up there to your husband's office?" Gojo asks, all of a sudden, derailing from the tale.
"Huh?" You murmur, quite dumbly, shaking. "His office?"
Gojo's lips purse into a frown. "We don't get trouble around here, Miss. Not anymore. This was personal"
Personal. Not an accidental shooting. Not an unfortunate run-in with riff-raff or bandits near the train station. Bandits seem like such nasty business. No. This was personal.
Your husband was murdered.
Your finger shakes, but eventually you point to the stairs. "Hi-his office is the third down on the left. Take...take whatever you need"
There isn't an ounce of the flirty Gojo you remembered seeing at the family picnic. This must be the Sheriff. With steely blue eyes and a pen and paper out to take down your statement.
Do you know anyone who might have wanted your husband dead? No. Of course not. What about his work? What can you tell him about that? Not much. He doesn't tell you the happenstance's of what he does. When was the last time you saw him? Yesterday; when you sent him off to the train station with a kiss on the cheek and his breakfast to go.
"And how did he act, when he was leavin?" Gojo inquires, white strands obscuring his face from view in a way that frightens you. "Anythin that stood out to you?"
"I was busy" You whisper, choked and trying not to cry. "I had to get Kugisaki re-ready...uhm, ready for school. So I...I just told him I would see him when he got back" Only he never would be.
What if you had insisted on letting him take the carriage? What if you had just let Kugisaki be late, just this once? Would your husband still be alive today? Is this your fault?
What would happen to you and Kugisaki now?
Gojo stands just as the officers come back down with a box of items. His face is closed off, pensive. Whatever you've told him, it wasn't good enough. Clumsily, you stand to your feet as well. You try and take a peek at their faces, to see if their expressions betray anything. But they don't.
"We'll see ourselves out" He instructs, stopping you in the middle of the room when you try to walk them to the door.
"Gojo..." His name slips out of your mouth before you can think twice about it. He stops, and turns to look at you. You don't even know what it is you want to say.
Your face seems to say enough.
"Don't worry Miss, we'll find the bastards who did this" Gojo says, wild eyed and frantic. "In the meantime, if you ever need anythin, you know where to find me"
You spend the first four months of your deep mourning completely isolated from town.
You don't remember the funeral. Kugisaki was inconsolable, you think. Wouldn't let the preacher continue with the sermon. The Sheriff was kind enough to take her out for a few minutes. Four months, and thats all you can remember. A tiny snippet in time.
If it were up to you, you would retreat completely from life itself. Ironic how this ranch that once stifled you had become your sole refuge. You couldn't imagine yourself staying here for days on end, not to mention entire months; without conversation with another living person.
Nowadays, you hardly ever leave your chambers. If things get really bad, trapped too far inside your head, you sleep on the desk in your husband's office, where everything remains untouched. Well, besides the things that have been taken for the investigation, that is.
You spend every second of every day hoping for news from the Sheriff. He comes over occasionally, though he stays downstairs. Occasionally, you'll catch him, Kugisaki, and his children chasing each other around in the large backyard.
It's far from proper. It rubs you the wrong way because you don't know when the behavior started. When Gojo went from announcing his presence to just coming in, whisking your daughter through the house. The sound of Kugisaki's laughter drifting throughs the floors and walls.
All you know is that the Sheriff comes over. He scrapes away at the molding grief threatening to choke Kugisakiâand for a few hours, a few times a week, things seem like they could be normal again.
But he never comes upstairs, where you lurk. Which means he doesn't have any updates on the case. Which means every hour he spends with Kugisaki in your house, is another hour your husband's killer is on the loose.
A break in monotony comes in the form of Ieiri. You're shocked to see her, the first visitor that isn't the Sheriff or the servants. You wonder if her visit is unplanned, or if you accepted her invitation for lunch and simply forgotten about it.
You don't let her come upstairs. You can't let her see what you've become. But as you gaze at your reflection in the window, you realize that she'll be able to tell anyway. You're gaunt, for one. Skin pallid and clammy. You get plenty of sleep (not much to do otherwise), but there are deep; dark circles underneath your eyes anyway.
Ieiri is kind enough not to say anything about it.
The sun threatens to blind you. The grass is soft beneath your boots as you lead her out to the patio. She's donned in a simple white day dress. No frivolous lace or bows. Only a blue hairpin and a gold necklace adorn her throat.
What a pair you make. You, dressed in a plain black muslin dress, bonnet shielding your face from the sun. Ieiri, a maiden in white. Two opposing ends of the mourning period.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" She asks, already pulling out her tin and a match.
"Not at all" Your voice is slightly croaky for months of disuse. You wave away her look of concern, turning your head blankly towards the stables as the smell of tobacco rises in the air.
"I'm sorry about what's happened" Ieiri says, pulling you back into the present. You've received countless letters and compliments dictating the same. But she is the first person who says them and means it.
"Thank you," You demure, with an incline of your head. If you could cry, you would. But you haven't had the tears to summon in months. "Could you tell me...about what's been happening in town?"
Ieiri snorts. "I didn't take you for a gossip, you naughty thing" But she smiles as she says it, and it makes you feel like you can smile too. So you do, wavering and short. But a smile nonetheless. "Luckily for you dear, I happen to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, I'm not telling you anythin, till I see you eat a bite of this food. Come on now, just a lil..."
Another nervous smile. You break off a bite of your sandwich and push it into your mouth. True to her coaxing word, Ieiri begins the tale of an on-going riff between two young socialites in town. A friendship rift caused by a man of all things.
"And, to be frank" Ieiri says, putting out her cigarette and lighting another. She coughs, waving away the smoke, and then grins. "I don't even see him as much of a looker. Both girls can do much better. Men can come and go easily, but it's friendships that test time itself"
Truth is, Ieiri puts Mei-Mei to shame when it comes to gossip. She isn't malicious about it, the way Mei-Mei often is. It's just as she said : Ieiri just happens to be right there front and center every time.
You're interrupted by the sound of Kugisaki's excited yelling from the inside the house, and the bob of her shadow through the windows.
"She seems to be doing better" Ieiri drawls, non-judgmental, a soft smile on her face. "I lost my parents at a young age too. But I wasn't handlin it well at all"
"I'm sorry" You say, automatically. You've lost your husband, yes. But both of your parents are alive and well. They'll live for a long time yet. "How did...what happened?"
"Bandits." Ieiri says shortly, and puts out her cigarette just as Kugisaki comes into the back yard.
Kugisaki wanders up to you warily. She gives you a stiff hug and then melts into your body with a sigh.
You hug her back, twice as hard, unable to stop the gunshot wound of a noise that escapes you. "Your hair..."
Your daughter freezes. Out of guilt or admission, you cannot tell.
"I cut it" She says, sounding too mature for a nine year old. Kugisaki pulls back from your embrace and squares her shoulder. "Do you like it?"
"Your father loved your hair..." You whisper brokenly, carding your fingers through the now blunt ends. It's the wrong thing to say, but you can't help it, mourning the long brown strands that reminded you so dearly of your late husband. "When did you cut it?"
How hadn't I noticed?
"A month ago" Your daughter states, looking unsure of herself. "Satoru helped me. He said you might like it, if I did acted mature and helped out more. That you might come down. And it worked!"
Your brows nearly jump right off your head at the mention of Kugisaki's casual use of the Sheriff's first name. But you don't mention that. You also don't mention that you leaving your bedroom for the first time since the funeral has more to do with Ieiri than Gojo.
You don't like it. Not at all. Gojo whispering suggestions into Kugisaki's ear. Going behind your back. You appreciate him for what he's done for you...when you...weren't well. But already you can feel yourself feeling better. You're ready to be Kugisaki's mother again.
Because setting up playdates with your daughter is one thing. Acting like her father is another.
Ieiri's eyes meet yours over the rim of her teacup. If she thinks the boundaries between you, your daughter and the towns beloved Sheriff are inappropriateâshe wisely keeps her mouth shut.
The next time the Sheriff waltzes over, you plan to do it then. The words are on the tip of your tongue. Send Kugisaki out of the room. Gently broach the subject. Tell him you are eternally grateful for his help and suggest that if he wants to continue to bring your children together, he should act more like a stranger and less like the man of the house.
Your house.
It never quite happens the way you plan. And the longer you put it off, the more out of control Gojo gets. The more unspoken boundaries he continues to cross.
One morning, you come down for breakfast and there are five plates set instead of two. Gojo's turned over all the mirrors, and he's sitting with Tsumiki and Kugisaki, giving them matching hairstyles. His son, Megumi, stands off to the side, steadily observing.
Gojo, sitting in your painting room. Gojo, reading the newspaper and sitting on your front porch. Gojo, coming back from the henhouse, or dragging bales of hay out to your horses. Or helping your servants water your garden, for God's sake.
Until you realize it's been a year and two months since your husband has died. Until you realize that Kugisaki has stopped mourning three months early. Until you realize that while Gojo seems to be over more times than he isn't, you still haven't heard a single update about what's happened to your husband. Until you realize that Kugisaki has that same starry-eyed awed expression and admiration for Gojo that she has for her father.
Had. Had for her father.
It's Gojo, surprisingly, who broaches the subject.
You've just come back from a day of errands. First the general grocer, then the doctors to pick up Kugisaki's hay fever tonic and then at the millers for flour and sugar.
When you come home, you aren't shocked to see an extra pair of shoes in the foyer. What you are surprised to see, is the lack of them. Panic laces through your body like a taught wire. You set your things down onto the island bar, tearing through the house for your daughter. She isn't there. Why is Gojo here, and Kugisaki isn't?
You find Gojo in your garden, sipping on a glass of sweet iced tea, humming to himself. He arches a brow when he sees you, and does little else.
"Where's Kugisaki?" You ask, chest heaving with exertion. Your eyes are wild with worry, you know, sweat beading along the back of your neck.
"With a younger cousin of mine. Yuta. Nice boy" He explains, casually. "Babysittin" he has the nerve to add, and then winks.
"You didn't think to ask her mother before you allow her to leave with someone else?" You snap, shaking. What if Kugisaki is kidnapped? What if she's hurt? You can't afford to lose her too. "Sheriff, you forget yourself"
"I'm really gettin peeved with you, darlin" Gojo says, brushing your concerns aside as though they mean nothing, though there's a sudden sharp glimmer in his eyes that makes you hesitate. "Satoru. My name is Satoru. Sa-to-ru"
"My daughterâ" Glacier blue eyes snap to your face. He takes a step closer and stares you down. "Where is she?"
"I told you" The Sheriff replies, hand too low on your lower back as he urges you inside. "With a babysitter."
"Where's Moira?" You ask instead, as Gojo settles behind the counter and proceeds to pour you a glass of tea. He even goes as far as to rifle through the ice box for something for you to snack on.
"Had to let her go" He answers, back turned as your blood freezes.
"You fired my servant?" The words are caught in your throat, and come out all weird. Breathy, almost. The nerve of this man. This has gone on too far. Gojo simply rounds the table, places your food in front of you and then kisses the side of your head.
"She was stealin the silver" He murmurs, eyes flickering down to your lips. "She shouldn't be around the kids, or you"
The kids, he says. Like you're married.
"I can determine whats best for Kugisaki and I" You grit out. "You are not my husband. You do not determine what goes on in my house. I appreciate the help you've given me but I think you and I need to alienate ourselves from one another"
You breath raggedly. There. Now the words are out. You've said your piece. Things can finally go into a sense of normalcy now.
"Alienate ourselves" The Sheriff repeats, smiling into your hair before stepping away. He isn't listening. No. He isn't taking you seriously, you realize. He doesn't care. "You need me" He says.
"Iâ"
"When's the last time you've paid a bill for this place?" Gojo asks, and before you can pin down the thought that you haven't; he continues. "How much money has your husband left in the bank for you? How much land comes with this property? How much are you payin your stablehands? How many are hired? Who's the gardener? Do you know anythin about this house, Miss?"
The questions fly at you. Too fast for you to even think of a lie or a rebuttal against them. Each one strikes a vital chord in your defense. Each makes you realize just how little of a control you've had on things.
"The thing is, that piece of shit didn't save you a single penny" Gojo answers his own question, uncaring of the way your heart plummets to your stomach. "He's got a second account, sure. But all of that money went to his son"
Son.
"You see" The Sheriff says, drumming his fingers down on the table as your nerves threaten to make you fall apart. "Your husband has led a second life. He's got another wife and a set of little brats with another woman further south. His son's older than Kugisaki. Makes me think it's been happenin since before you entered the picture. Ever wonder what happened to half your savins that was meant for that nice house north of here? Two...three years ago?"
Ice floods your veins. "Stop" You croak, eyes wet with tears. "Gojo, stop"
How does he know about that? Any of it? How long has he known? Why hasn't he said anything about it before.
His hand latches onto yours, and then skims further up your wrist onto the cuff of your dress. "While you've been sittin here, faithful picture of a lady, that asshole has been funnelin your money to another family. But the ruse has to come up eventually. And the husband of your husband's affair is affiliated with some bad, bad men. The kind I don't like stayin around in my town"
Bandits. The picture comes together.
The night your husband said he had another business trip...there was no business. And how did he act, when he was leavin? The Sheriff's words swirl in your ears like a bad omen. Perhaps he knew, and wanted to run. Or perhaps that man had managed to catch your husband by surprise.
You choke down a sob. But the tears come anyway, and Gojo pulls you into his chest. His broad palm rubs down your back, hot even through the layers of your clothes. Searing. You want to push him away. You try to. He only clucks his tongue and holds you all the more tighter for it.
"Haven't I done right by you?" Gojo asks, peppering kisses against the side of your face. His hands don't wander, not how you'd expect them to. You wonder how you're supposed to shove him off if he decides to go further. "You never worry about anythin when I'm here, don't you want it to be like that all the time?"
"What do you want?" You finally grit out, putting some much needed space between the two of you.
"I need," Gojo corrects "A show of faith. I ain't a bad man. I don't wanna force myself on ya, wasn't how I was raised"
You say nothing, refusing to betray your faults. Inwardly, your mind spins. If what the Sheriff is saying is true, there's no money and there hasn't been for a long time. How can you raise Kugisaki and keep the property at the same time? Where will you go if you can't?
Gojo boops you on the nose with his finger, bringing you out of your perilous thoughts. "How long do you plan on mournin that bastard, anyway? It's already been a year. You can take another husband now. I waited, see?"
"I miss seein you in color" He continues, playing with the edge of your bodice. "All this black, doesn't suit ya."
A show of faith.
"You want me to marry you," You conclude, voice shaky and small.
"That would be nice, yes" Gojo hums, as though it was all your idea. Wolfishly, he grins at you. Darts forward, and steals a proper kiss. His lips are sweet from the tea. "Jus' think about it some, okay? Got some loose ends to tie up, so I'll be gone for some time. When I come back...."
He tugs at the hem of your bodice again. "This better be gone, you hear?"
Even before Gojo left, you knew what your answer will be.
You've never worked a day in your life. Your parents taught you wifely duties with the expectation that you'd never have to work a day in your life. Even things that lesser women had to learn, managing books, the household. Those were beyond you. Your mother had servants to do that for her and she expected the same for you.
The second day, Ijichi drives you out to the bank in the big city half a days journey out. Just as the Sheriff said, your accounts are pitifully low. Not enough to last on your own, if Gojo decides to take his good will away.
You want to ask around for work. You could be a seamstress, or maybe the assistant to one. But something in you won't. You step into town and you notice the stares. The way people seem to pause before speaking with you.
Someone genuinely saw you coming and crossed the street, eyes staring down at the cobblestone.
You know, that even before you ask, no one here will hire you. Not with the metaphorical blood on your hands. You'd climb the highest roof in town and shout out your innocence if you believed it would have an inkling of changing anything.
You remembered your first thoughts about this tiny little town. Quiet. Unassuming. So unlike what you were used to. The people here were tight-knit. Close lipped. And you had broken that fragile trust by bringing your husband and his demons together into their depths. Their cautious, derisive looks say enough.
No one here trusts you.
A week later, you hear news from Kugisaki that Gojo will be back soon.
"And you like the Sheriff?" You ask, suddenly. Something about your tone makes your daughter freeze, owlish brown eyes peering up at you.
"Satoru's great!" Kugisaki chirps over her dinner, head tilted curiously to the side. "Don't you like him too, Mama? Everyone says he's sweet on you"
Do they now? "Who have you heard that from?"
"Miwa from primary school says her mama says that he does" She replies; with utmost seriousness. "And she's a love fortune teller. She looks at the cards and tells you your fortune! It's very serious, Mama"
Miwa's mother should mind her own business, you think sourly.
"And if we were to live with the Sheriff...with Satoruâ" Your grip on the fork tightens and you force a smile onto your face. "Would you like that? If Satoru and I married?"
Kugisaki's face splits into a grin. Your heart plummets to the bottom of your stomach and dread washes over you like freezing cold water.
She wants this you realize.
Aren't you afraid, you want to ask. He could replace your father. Don't you remember how you used to adore him so? The thought makes you reel back. Who are you; to seek comfort from your daughter? This shouldn't be about you. It's about Kugisaki. It's about making sure she's safe.
And by law, that's exactly what marriage to Satoru will do.
The day you go to meet Satoru, you don a blue dress. Maybe the color will soften him. Maybe you won't catch a glimpse of the man lurking underneath the veneer, if you can satisfy him in this small way.
It feels...unnatural, to be seen wearing color again. The stares you earned dressed in black seem to double, triple. Everyone seems to look at you and know exactly where you're going.
Mei-Mei would remark with a smile, about the sudden abrupt end to your mourning.
It's all in your imagination, you want to think. But Satoru's servants don't seem shocked at all to see you. Rather, its more like they were expecting you.
Like you were right on time.
"Satoru!" Kugisaki sings, loud, as she crosses the foyer. Seconds later, the man of the hour rounds the corner. Your daughter leaps at him, and he catches her easily; spinning her round and round until she's dizzy and begs for mercy.
You stand in the middle of the room like a voyuer, waiting for him to finally acknowledge you.
And he does. He breathes, a cross between a sigh of want and relief when he spots the blue and white day dress. The lack of the veil and bonnet. Your gloveless hands. And he smiles.
"Kugisaki, Megumi and Yuji are down at the stables" It's a clear dismissal if you've ever heard one. "Tsu-Tsu ain't here right now"
Playfully put-out, your daughter groans. "Yuji better not have taken Straw" she says, and wriggles out of his arms to race down to the stables.
Silence stretches on for a full minute. Then, two more.
Finally, Satoru speaks. "Glad to you're no longer mournin. Got tired of seein you in those dreadful things. Now you look more like yourself"
There a smug undertone to his words. You should say something. You know he's expecting you to, but you just can't.
"Why don't I show you aroun'?" He asks, grabbing you by the arm.
"That would be nice" You demure. If Satoru won't bring attention to the elephant in the room, you won't either.
As the Sheriff leads you through his opulent home, you begin to understand the sheer differences in status between you and him. You nearly get lost in the rooms, their sheer sizes, the way lavishness seems to drip in excess. Even your maiden-home, the richest you've ever been, wasn't nearly as wealthy as this.
"And this," Satoru purrs next to your ear, "Is our room"
His hand settles on your middle back, gently nudging you inside. Like the other rooms, this one oozes wealth. An ensuite bathroom. Two ensuite closets (for the Miss, Satoru says, and winks). A large bed. A set of beautiful glass windows that overlook the estate and its wonderful landscaping.
We Gojos make her family seem like street-beggars.
"You have a very lovely home" You tell him, and mean it, turning around. Only, Satoru's standing way too close, crowding you against the window. "Satoru...?"
Satoru groans, erotically, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. "Finally, been tryin to get you to say my name like that this whole time..."
He nuzzles into your throat. Like a puppy. You freeze up once more as his hands travel up and down your body. He's tactile, thats for sure. You can't help but pale in the face of his desire.
"S-Satoru..." You gasp, writhing as his hands begin to unlace the back of your bodice. You wrap your fingers around his wrist to still his advancements. "Stop. A moment; please. This isn't properâ"
Satoru cackles into your skin. "You can drop the shy act now, darlin. It's not like I don't know what I'm gettin into. Come on, don't tell me you only fucked that bastard while you were tryna make Kugisaki? You never did it for fun? Cause it felt good?"
Heat blooms across your face, worms its way down your neck and settles down in your lower stomach.
When you haven't said anything for a minute, Satoru stills. Pulls back from sucking a bruise into your skin like it physically ails him to be separated from you.
"You really haven't...?" He asks, eyes so dark they frighten you.
"Sex is done so that a woman ends up pregnant" You warble. A slow, almost mad, grin spreads onto his cherubic features.
"Well, I'll still make sure you end up pregnant, if that's wha you want" He drawls, and unzips your skirt, yanking it down to your hips. "Can't lie and say I ain't thought of it. A little you runnin around. Long as you don't mind Megumi bein my heir, I'll give you a litter of 'em"
summary! you've been fucking your fratboy-friend suguru for ages. you've always wanted your relationship to be more than casual sex, but he always shuts that down. then, like a god with a really nice cock, choso, the schools most reliable plug, tries to swoop you out of that assholes grip. you finally have a man who's willing to give you the world, but will suguru fuck that up for you? (SMUTTTT, p in v, oral: f receiving, fingering.) a lil angst, mostly sexy choso tho đ€đŒ
"f-fuck! sugu, oh god, i can't!"
your cries only fuel the cocky man to thrust harder, deeper as he grunted like an animal in your ear from behind.
"c'monnn, be a good girl and fucking take it, i know you can, baby." he teased, slapping in and out in long strokes, hitting your womb over and over with each tantalising push.
this arrangement blossomed some time after highschool.
both you and suguru always had a thing for each other, even then. you'd share headphones in class, study late at night until the sun came up, and took on projects together as an excuse to be in one another's presence. gojo and shoko always made fun of you both, calling you love struck idiots with no sense of self respect to just admit you liked eachother.
now, in collage, that wishy washy bond seemed to amplify ten fold, with nothing relationship wise being set in stone but the actions always there. right now, in the form of his relentless pounding.
you were an art major at the university of jujutsu, scraping by on your salary from your dive bar job as you navigated the occasional ragers on weekends at suguru and satorus frat, sigma chi, along with the stress of creating.
your dream is to become a free lancer, taking commissions from big names and spending the rest of your life as a dignified artist. but, like all good careers, study and your minimum wage job came first.
the job you were working only an hour ago before suguru waltzed in and whispered lowly in your ear, "been thinking bout' you all day, baby. what time d'you get off?"
now, he's got your hair in a messy bunch as he hits it from behind, moaning and groaning like a fucking porn star. his cocks pushing the nastiest whines from your throat, but his pace never settles.
"fuckkkâ you're a pro at takin' this dick, keep fluttering around me sweetheart, just like that." he pounds into you extra hard that time, letting you know exactly who has you wrapped around his finger.
he hovers over your body reeling with that hot afterglow, panting. the room now smells like his strong cologne and sex. he doesnât rush to pull off of you, suguru never does that. instead, he stays there breathing steadily, his head dipped toward your shoulder.
âyou good?â he asks, looking through your eyes deep into your head in that penetrating suguru way.
âyeah,â you say too breathless. you clear your throat and try again. âyeahâ yeah. iâm good.â
he smiles contently and rolls off to the side, tugging you with him until youâre half draped over his big, bare, muscular chest. the bed creaks under the movement. his hand comes up to your back, the pad of his thumb pushing slow lines into the muscles.
it's moments like these when your mind starts to wonder why you feel so attached to this guy when all he really takes from you is sex, and all you get in return is an unstable sense of stability and a few party invites.
suguru lets out a stretch and a long groan, resting his chin in the top of your head as your tucked into his chest. âdo you work tomorrow?â
âmhm, a morning shift,â you answer. âthen gotta finish a com.â
âmm. that's rough, honey.â
honey..
you smile a little at that, even though he canât see it. he always says that, like itâs a given that your life is busy and hard and worth acknowledging in his eyes. itâs stupid, but it matters to you and he knows that.
he gets a call from the bedside table, but hangs up the line immediately. that small gesture makes your brain go numb.
you hesitate, then speak before you can talk yourself out of having this conversation.
âhey, suguru?"
"hm?"
"you ever think about⊠i dunno. doing things differently?â
âdifferent how?â he asks carefully, his massaging hand slowing down a tad.
you gulp. this is the line you've never crossed. the one you circle and circle and never, ever step over. âlike⊠i donât know. not sneaking around. not pretending this is justâ"
âhey,â he cuts in gently, lifting your chin so you have to look at him. his expression isnât unkind. if anything, that makes it worse. âyou know where iâm at.â
you nod, even though your chest feels constricted. âi know.â
âiâm not looking for anything serious right now,â he says. itâs not mean. itâs not supposed to be dismissive in any way, shape or form, itâs just true. âi donât want to give you the wrong idea, love."
then stop calling me that...
âi know,â you say instead, âiâm not asking for anything. i was just... thinking about it, i guess."
he watches you for a second, eyes searching your face like heâs checking for any excess damage. then he moves in and leaves a brief kiss on your forehead.
âyouâre important to me,â he says. âyou know that?"
you do, and you donât. both at the same time somehow.
eventually, he falls asleep. you stay awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the things you could never ask for from a man you'd been so indulged in.
~
monday's on campus were hot, long, and so, so boring.
you had a lecture on influences on modern art this morning, eugh.
you had your lecture materials and laptop tucked into your bag as you dragged your feet to the art block. the path curves around the science block, concrete stained and cracked from years of foot traffic. you slow your pace a little as you round the corner, adjusting your grip on your bag.
thatâs when your wandering eyes land on a guy you'd never seen before.
heâs leaning against the wall just out of sight from the main path. his long brown hair shoved up into a messy man bun as the tattooed line across his nose stuck out starkly against his fair skin. he's toweringly tall, with baggy dark jeans held up with a leather diesel belt, campus 00's that'd seen better days, and a white beater adorning his muscular body. on his meaty arms, various detailed tattoos snake up and down in twisted patterns, with thick chained bracelets and leather studded cuffs wrapping around his wrists.
holy shit, this guy was your ever wet dream re-imagined.
his various face piercings and thing chain around his neck caught the morning sun as lyour steps slow down without you noticing.
this mysterious man isnât alone. a guy you vaguely recognise from around campus stands off to the side yet still close, talking quickly with his eyes darting around. you look away instinctively, staring at your shoes, pretending youâre just another student late for class.
voices drift through the air, shoes scuff, then the other guy leaves in a hurry with his head head down.
when you glance back, the tall, grungey one is counting bills. a lot of them. he folds them without any sort of panic, then tucks them into his pocket like itâs nothing.
oh.
you look away again, heart jumping, suddenly very aware of how obvious you must seem. you tell yourself to keep walking. mind your business, you didn't see anything.
but when you pass the corner, you feel it. his eyes, all over you.
you risk a small glance over, and heâs looking at you openly, those brown irises almost choking you up. when your eyes meet, he smiles softly.
that was a surprise.
it isnât suggestive in the gross way guys usually looked at you, it isnât cocky or smug either. itâs warm and a little boyish like heâs amused yet slightly embarrassed by being caught, still, it's like he doesnât mind it at all. like he thinks youâre cute for staring.
you rip your eyes away from the majestic looking boy and grab your bag tight.
you donât look back at him, because you know you don't need to.
a guy like that stays engraved in your head for at least a week.
~
a few hours later, beta theta phi.
the house is weirdly quiet, everyoneâs either in class, at the gym, or passed out somewhere upstairs.
the sun still burns hot as it squeezes its way through the blinds onto the leather couch choso's lounging in.
heâs got his legs spread and his boots planted flat on the floor, a thick stack of bills resting on his thigh. he counts slowly, he likes the feel of the paper, the weight of it, the reassurance that itâs all still there.
a cigarette sits loosely between his two fingers with white smoke floating upward as he exhales through his nose.
beta theta phi isnât flashy by any means. the house isnât huge or pristine, and to be honest, no oneâs tryna pretend it is. itâs solid, very old money mixed with modern features. heavy, trusty furniture, scuffed floors, various trophies shoved onto wooden shelves without much care. it was a spot where loyalty mattered much more than appearance.
choso slots perfectly into this frat, like it was built from the ground up just for him.
he flicks through the last of the bills, taps the stack against his leg to even it out, then slips the money into a thick envelope. it joins two others already sitting on the coffee table. today was good. but when it came to choso, today was always good.
his brain start to wander, his mind flashing images of you this morning, your face all blushy and shy. he knows he only saw you for a few seconds, but he thought you were really cute.
he's knocked out of the day dream when the front door swings open and two rowdy brothers pour inside.
tojiâs big booming voice wafts through the halls first, talking shit about something dumb with sukuna, who follows close behind. they've both got a towel draped over their shoulder, hair damp from the gym. they smell like sweat and cheap soap, muscles still tight from whatever theyâd just put themselves through.
âyo,â toji says, spotting choso. âlook at this guy. always sittinâ here so pretty.â
choso glances up, a corner of his mouth lifting. âyeah? ladies like pretty boys, js' look at gojo.â
"ain't that the truth, that guys drownin' in pussy." sukuna laughs.
they drop onto the couch beside him, the cushions dipping under their massive weight. sukuna reaches out, clasping chosoâs hand in a quick dap. toji copies.
sukuna leans back, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. âyou look relaxed.â
âthatâs because i am,â choso replies, taking another drag before tapping ash into an empty can. âmoneyâs good today.â
toji snorts. âwhen's it not?â
chosoâs smile deepens, âthat's true.â
toji eyes the envelopes on the table. âwhatâd you clear?â
âenough,â choso says easily. he doesnât give numbers unless he feels like it. most of the time, he doesnât.
sukuna whistles low anyway. âcampus still eatinâ outta your hand, huh?â that gets a quiet chuckle out of him. âpretty much.â
it isnât bragging, of course. choso was humble like that, itâs just fact.
everyone knows him. not in that loud, showy, gojo way, but in the way that keeps his name out of problems and his product moving cleanly throughout everyone's pockets. he doesnât advertise his stuff, and he definitely doesnât chase clients. people come to him because they trust him, because he never cuts corners, never shorts anyone, never brings problems back to his frat, to his brothers.
most of the frats on campus run through him. beta theta phi, obviously. but sigma chi too. alpha delta, kappa nu, even a few of the smaller houses that pretend they donât need a plug until friday hits and everyoneâs scrambling for grass no one bothered to get.
he keeps it all so organised and respectful, thatâs why no one fucks with him.
heâs made more money than most people their age could even imagine. stacks on stacks tucked away, accounts spread out across multiple banks, investments already working for him while he lounges on a couch counting cash. he couldâve left school ages ago, perhaps disappeared to some holiday country and never looked back,
but he didnât.
college is just so easy. it's nice and predictable, a cover as much as it is a choice. and beta theta phi gave him brothers who donât ask questions they donât need the answers to. he really liked that.
sukuna shifts, rolling his shoulders. âoh, speaking of sigma chi.â
choso glances at him. âhm?â
âtheyâre throwinâ some function this weekend,â sukuna says. âgojo was runninâ his mouth in the locker room earlier. said we could all get free entry if you supply some dope.â
toji laughs. âclassic.â
choso exhales smoke, considering it for half a second. âyeah. thatâs fine.â
sukuna raises a brow. âthat easy?â
âwhy not,â choso shrugs. âi can afford to lose a little.â
sukuna smiles. "it's a glow party, that rave kinda thing we never do because it gets too messy. so, gojo also wanted some molly, said he'd pay for that tho."
"done."
toji grins and leans over, clapping him on the back hard enough to jostle the envelopes. âfuckinâ legend.â
âseriously,â sukuna adds, nodding. âyouâre so good to us.â
choso waves it off, already flicking ash again. âwhat can i say? i love you guys.â
toji lets out a loud laugh, leaning back so far the couch creaks under him. âlisten to this guy.â he mocks, throwing his head back.
sukuna snorts, shaking his head. âshut up, toji. y' just mad he's not as emotionally immature as you are. love you too, cho."
choso rolls his eyes.
toji stretches, arms over his head, muscles pulling tight beneath his skin. âanyways, weâre grabbing food. you wanna tag along? i'll pay.â
choso opens his mouth to answer, then pauses. somethings been nagging at him, hell, might as well pick at these meat heads brains.
âhey,â he says instead.
they both look at him.
âyou guys ever hear of a girl,â he starts to explain as his eyes float towards the window, âshe's an art major, i think. always got a bag full of paints or something. looks like she wandered onto campus by accident.â
toji squints. âthatâs⊠vague.â
sukuna tilts his head, thinking. âart major, huh?â
âyeah,â choso says. âreal pretty, doesnât look like she knows how hot she is.â
thereâs a hum that comes from sukuna, then he snaps his fingers. âoh. her.â
chosoâs attention sharpens up. âyeah?â
â[name],â sukuna says. âsheâs always around sigma chi stuff. parties, events, whatever. went to high school with gojo and his friends, iâm pretty sure.â
toji nods. âyeah, i know who you mean. really nice girl.â
choso hums quietly, absorbing it. âfriends with gojo,â he repeats.
âyeah, pretty much family, from what i hear,â sukuna shrugs. âwhy?â
toji eyes him for a second longer, like he wants to push, then grins instead. âsure you are.â
they head for the door, laughter trailing behind them as it swings shut.
the house falls quiet again.
choso leans back into the couch, staring at the dangling light, the name turning over in his head.
â[name], huh?â
~
sigma chi looks like a cyberpunk futuristic fantasy with the amount of glowing neon paint smeared across everyone's bodies.
big blacklights are bolted into every corner of the room, splashing the walls and dancing bodies in radioactive colours.
paint splatters glow like constellations across bare arms and collarbones and the heavy hitting music penetrates every ear drum.
youâre stationed in the kitchen wearing a pretty, tight dress you almost didn't wear. it hugs you perfectly, so short gojo whistled when he saw you earlier. small lines of neon paint streak horizontally across your cheeks, you hadnât planned on doing your makeup like this but of course, shoko insisted. her steady hand painted you up while you both giggled and tried to stay still.
right now, youâre posted up in the kitchen with her and that white haired idiot, plastic cups full of jungle juice sweating in your hands. it looks scarily neon aswell, which sorta freaks you out.
âthis shit is gonna kill me,â shoko mutters, taking another sip anyway.
gojo laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leaning his weight into you like he always does. âyou say that every time.â
âbecause every time iâm right.â
you smile leaning into gojo. he trys to whisper something flirty in your ear but you shove his face away with a scoff and he fake pouts.
shoko nudges aaid with her elbow. âyou got any molly?â
he grimaces. ânot on me.â
you glance at him, curious. âbut you said-â
ârelax,â he grins. âchosoâs bringing some.â
you blink. âwho?â
they both look at eachother, then at you. "you don't know choso?" they say jointly.
before either of them can answer any further, scuffling near the doorway catches your eye.
your breath gets all hault up in your lungs, because its him.
the guy from earlier this week. he's tall even among the crowd of athletes, his black clothes look beautifully fitting for his vibe. neon paint traces a line across his nose, glowing exactly where that tattoo you'd seen had been. his eyebrow and nose piercings have been swapped out for neon pink rings that glow vibrantly in the backlight.
he looks so perfect it's almost nauseating.
he stalks straight up to gojo, and without a proper greeting, he throws an arm around his neck, pulling him in close like theyâve done this a bajillion times.
âtook you long enough,â gojo laughs, slapping a hand against choso's chest.
the guy grins nice and wide, then shoves a bag full of weed into gojoâs arms like itâs nothing more than candy. âdonât get greedy.â
âyouâre actually the best,â gojo beams.
shoko leans in close to you, whispering, âthatâs choso.â
oh.
choso laughs with gojo shaking his pretty head, then reaches into his pocket again. this time, he pulls out a small baggie with five pink pills gleaming.
from beside you, shoko makes a tiny, triumphant sound. âyes!"
gojo fishes out cash and hands over four fifty dollar notes without counting. choso takes them, counts them, then stops for a sec. he plucks one back and presses it into gojoâs chest with a wink.
âhundred fifty,â he says. âconsider it a favor.â
gojo looks like christmas came early. âi fucking love you.â
âyeah, yeah,â choso laughs.
they bump shoulders, laugh together for a few minutes, then step apart. gojo claps him on the arm. âenjoy the party, man.â
âalways do.â
choso turns to leave, but then he stops.
because his dark, now completely blown out eyes catch on you.
you're fully exposed in your staring. for a small moment of time, he freezes still. like he didnât expect to see you here, like the room had dropped out from under him.
then he laughs. awkward and quiet, scratching at the back of his neck.
you smile back shyly, itâs adorably small, but hell, it wacks him in the head like a brick.
he straightens a little, smile turning nervous in a way that doesnât match his size or his nonchalant reputation. he looks like heâs about to say something. like heâs weighing his options, deciding if he should come over, if this is his moment.
you tilt your head, waiting for something to come of this, then,
âchoso!â someone yells from across the room.
a guy with short dark hair and a pedo stache named shiu, a man you'd seen before hanging around toji.
choso glances back at you. then at shiu.
âc'mon, kamo!â shiu calls again, much louder this time.
choso exhales, running a hand through his hair. he gives you one last look and it's apologetic, almost regretful.
then he turns and disappears into the crowd.
you're a little confused, and sigh.
gojo sidles back up beside you, following your gaze. âdamn.â
âwhat?â you ask.
he grins. âif i was gay, chosoâs the first guy i'd crack.â
shoko rolls her eyes "if?"
~
some old zara larsson song keeps bumping over the speakers whether youâre into it or not, so you decide you might as well be in it.
you drain the rest of your cup and let shoko drag you back toward the living room where everyone's bodies are slotted together, neon paint streaking across skin every time someone brushes past. someone hands you another drink without asking and you take it, laughing when shoko raises her brows at you.
âc'mon girl, pace yourself,â she says.
âi amm,â you lie, sipping away.
you try to dance like usual, your hips moving with the beat, shoulders loose, smiling at people you barely know. a few guys spin you as some freshman's yelling over a group of girls, and someone else bumps into you and apologises with a drunken smile. itâs fun. itâs loud. itâs everything a party should be.
and still, your head just won't stop obsessive over that guy, over 'choso'.
you begrudgingly catch yourself scanning the room between songs, between laughs, between drinks.
itâs stupid! you donât know him. you donât know his major, his year, his anything.
you shake your head and take another drink.
then, just as you're about to flop into whatever leather couch is closest and contemplate your enter existence, big, firm hands snake around your waist.
you lean back into the man you know is behind you without second guessing yourself.
âthere you are,â he murmurs near your ear.
you turn your head just enough to catch his pretty grin. âi've been here for ages, suguru.â
âyeah?â he says. âcouldâve fooled me.â
his body pressed up against you flush as he grinds his hips into yours, his mouth kissing at your neck.
he wraps his forearms around your chest as you sway with the music. "you look so fucking good,â he adds, eyes dragging over you. âthat dress is just... wow.â he grabs your ass briefly before laughing as you smack his hand away.
you laugh, tipping your head back against his shoulder. âyouâre drunk.â
âa little,â he admits, then dips his head to your neck again.
you dance together, two bodies screaming sex appeal as others point and grin at your fluidity.
he murmurs your name into your neck, his perfectly straight teeth nipping at your skin again, and you forget about the neon paint and the blacklight, along with the mysterious man that had that soft smile.
youâre here now, with suguru.
after awhile of sex heavy music, it changes over to something geto doesn't like, so with one kiss to the bottom of your ear, he whispers, "come on, letâs go mingle a bit.â then pulls you over to your friends with an arm
âoh look, they're not upstairs yet,â gojo calls when he sees you. âthought you ditched us.â
geto just smirks, squeezing your side. âwouldnât dream of it.â
yuki raises a brow, eyes flicking between the two of you. âyou guys look cozy.â
âdonât we always?â you say lightly.
sukuna watches the two of you draw closer, and his mind drifts off to what choso had asked him the other day. he studies you for a second longer than necessary, his eyes sharp even through the fog of the party. then he straightens, arms crossing over his chest.
âso,â he says, blunt as ever. âare you two dating or what?â
oh, okay.
you feel choked up at his bluntness, caught off guard. before you can answer, you feel getoâs arm drop from around your waist.
he steps half a foot away.
ânah,â he says quickly, waving a hand like itâs nothing. âweâre just hooking up right now.â
just..
thereâs a weird, awkward silence. gojo clears his throat. yuki looks away and sukuna sucks his lips in trying not to laugh, like he's noticed how bad that question was.
âright,â you say, forcing a smile. âyeah.â
geto doesnât even spare you a glance.
yeah, this is too much. you were never good in awkward situations.
âiâm gonna go see what shoko's up to.â
you weren't going to see shoko, but you still step away, desperately needing some fresh air.
you push through the back door and onto the porch, whatever screeching drill music you'd assumed yuji put on fading behind you.
as you clicked the door shut, you swivel around and notice that you're not the only one on this porch.
the guy you'd learnt to be choso, leans against the metal railing just a few feet away, a burning blunt between his ringed fingers.
the glow from inside spills across his back, outlining him in soft purple light.
crap.
he hasnât noticed you yet, you consider retreating, stepping back inside and pretending you didnât see him. but, as you step back, your heel clips a large pot plant.
it rattles in its plant tray creating a ruckus.
âshit,â you hiss.
choso looks over his shoulder.
for a second, he seems surprised. then his mouth curves into a small, crooked smile.
âstalkinâ me now, hm?â he says teasingly.
gosh, how utterly pathetic could this night get.
"no- no! i was just- getting some air and i didn't know you were-"
you're cut off by his fond laugh, he's staring at your with half squinted eyes.
"don't worry, it's all good. m' only teasing."
his voice...
you hesitate, then breathe out a relived laugh with him. "i'll leave you to it then, m' sorry."
but before you can step back again, he chokes out a, "no, no. you should stay." it comes out louder than he'd planned, and you can tell by the way his next sentence comes much softer. "i don't mind company, y'know?" he rubs at his neck almost shyly.
laughing lightly at that, you slide into the spot next to him and grip the railing, your shoulder brushing against his.
he turns his body so he's facing you, then, holds out his veiny hand for you to grab. "choso, it's nice to finally meet you." he waits.
you humor him and let your smaller hand slip into his. "[name], it's nice to meet you too."
unexpectedly, he brings your hand up to his lips, looking you in the eye as he presses his lips to your delicate knuckles.
"pretty name for a pretty girl."
then he reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair away from your cheek with the back of his fingers.
he's intoxicating. he's somehow so flirty while looking so shy. you wanna dissapear with him, something about the man was screaming at you to take him by the belt and let him take care of the rest.
but you know better. you really do.
this is choso. and sure, you'd only really become aware of him this past week, but he couldn't be good news. he was the campus plug, a guy with a reputation that trails behind him like smoke wherever he went. bad news wrapped in real good looks and his adorably shy chivalry. you shouldnât barter into this, you really shouldnât smile like you were as he smiled back, shouldnât feel this pull towards him.
and yet, you let him wrap his pointer finger around yours as he stood leaning against the rail, keeping it there as he blew smoke into the sky.
"already so touchy? we just met, y'know." you quiz with a blushed out smile, wriggling the finger he has trapped on his own like a link.
"yeah," he turns to face you again, "but i already know i fuck with you. i like moving at a pace that feels right."
"and this 'feels right?'" you laugh.
"the right-est."
"huh." you reply, like it was a small yet significant revelation. you wriggle your finger again, but this time it's to hold his tighter, earning a smile from him.
"hope you don't have a boyfriend." he asks, looking down at you slyly.
"it's... complicated."
"so no, sweet."
"i-" he taps a finger to your lip.
"if you had a good man taking care of you, that answer wouldn't have any of that wishy washy bullshit. you donât have a boyfriend, let's leave it at that."
"yes sir." you joke, and his pants tighten a lil.
somehow, you feel like you'd known this guy you only properly met ten minutes ago since freshman year, no, screw that, since grade school. he was conversing with you like how one might talk to their long term on again off again. it was captivating yet also terrifying.
he inches closer to you, "i wanna get to know you, [name], should stay out here for a while, hm?"
you nod, and that was that, you end up talking to him for hours.
âiâm kinda surprised i havenât seen you around more. youâd think i wouldâve noticed a guy like you.â you say halfway through your little moment. he lets out a soft laugh, glancing back toward the party through the glass door. âa guy like my? huh? yeah, nah. i donât come to these much.â
âreally?â you tilt your head. âbut you and gojo seem close.â
âwe hang out heaps,â he nods. âjust not here. sigma chi gets too messy n' it's not really my scene.â
you hum in agreement. âfair.â
âwhat about you?â he asks. âyou always here?â
âmore than i should be,â you admit. âoccupational hazard.â
that gets a grin out of him. âoh, so you work?â
"yeah, i work at a-" you're cut off,
"a bar?"
you blink. âhowâd you know?â
he shrugs. âyouâve got the look.â
you laugh. âand what look is that?â
âlike you can handle drunk guys without losing your mind.â
âbarely,â you whisper under your breath. âi work at the sway bar, it's just off campus.â
âhm,â his brows lift. âmight have to stop by sometime.â
you look up at him smiling. âiâd really like that.â
âwhat frat are you in?â you ask him next, and you grin at the way his face lights up.
"beta theta phi, with sukuna and toji, y'know them?"
âahhh i see,â you smile. âyeah, i know them. i can totally see that.â
âsee what?â he asks amused.
âyou sorta just, match their vibe? i guess?â
he leans over to you, then, in a smooth motion he's bracing one arm on the railing behind you so your back would touch his chest if you leaned back. âand what vibeâs that exactly?â
you get choked up for a sec before grinning. âlike, dark. kinda edgy.â
he lets go of a breathy laugh. âyeah? you into that? dark nâ edgy?â
your face blushes pink as you nod. âyeah, kinda.â
that seems to please him, because his smile is satisfied and content.
as you're talking about everything and nothing simultaneously, you slowly start to realise you havenât thought about suguru once. not about how shitty he'd made you feel or the way he would probably be expecting you back inside and in his bed right about now.
your world has narrowed completely, honing in on the man beside you.
"i think you're really cool, [name]." he says from his spot behind you, his chest now fully hugging into your back as his arms have migrated from the pole to your waist. for some reason, where this would usually feel weird, too fast or sexual with most other men, it felt causal with him. like, instead of a rapey gesture meant to swoon you into bed, it was an action that felt so natural and grounding. you were definitely leaning into him.
"i'd hope so, you're kinda hugging me like we're a thing right now."
"would you be into that?" he speaks into your ear, his chin now pushing into the crook of your neck from behind.
"into what? us being a thing?"
"lowkey."
wow, you went from chasing a guy who would turn down being 'a thing' at every turn, to a man far more endearing suggesting it like it was an obvious want.
still, you had to be at least half cautious. "maybe."
he laughs at that, then lets his arms turn you around to face him.
"i'd love to take you out, ma. you're real funny, real sweet. my kinda girl, i can't lie to you."
this almost seems too good to be true. sure, a lotta guys ask you out, but none of them give off the same kinda vibe as choso. "y'sure you're not just saying that to sleep with me? you donât have to go through all that hassle, you know, we can just-"
"no." he cuts you off, looking you deep in your eye. "i don't want that. i really do wanna see where this goes, okay? have ever since i saw you walking t' class on monday."
that makes you still, because he'd been thinking about you as much as you'd been thinking about him, from one little smile. if this wasn't some fated lovers arrangement then you didn't know what was.
you took in a soft breath before smiling, "sure, you can take me out."
you feel him smile against your skin, then he pulls away and you mourn the loss of body heat.
"perfect." he says, pulling out his phone, giving it to you gently. "if you really want this, put in your number. if you donât , just spam the keypad and i'll figure it out later that you're not into me. no awkward shit."
he was perfect, god, he was perfect.
you grin and take it from him, putting your phone number in instantly under the name, [name] đ.
~
he'd kept his promise.
around two days later, you'd had a shift at the bar from afternoon til late. you'd been working for around three hours when the door to the small, yet cozy establishment swings open, revealing a very well dressed choso.
he had a nice shirt and jeans that looked classier than the one he wore to the party, and fitting jewellery littering his every body part. he was a little overdressed for this dingy dive bar setting, but the low lighting complimented his aesthetic perfectly.
he greets the girl at the door kindly, before stalking up to the bar in which you stood behind. he smiles gently as he spots you.
"you really came, that's cute." you smile, wiping up a wet glass with a tea towel.
he takes a once over of your attire and smirks to himself before sliding into the stool, still somehow towering over you despite being sat. "i keep my promises, sweetheart. couldn't turn down seeing you looking this fine in you're little uniform."
that makes you blush a pretty pink, earning a soft chuckle from him as he scans the rack of bottles behind you. choso rarely drank heavy, but when he was in the mood, he'd always preferred the more expensive liquor.
"you guys have any jonny walker? the blue label?" he asks, trying his own hand at spotting the scotch on the rack.
"just ran out, the next one up from that would be some pappy bourbon, but you're looking at $120 a pour." you don't expect him to chose your most expensive bottle, the one only really old timers reach for, so you're preparing to grab for a bottle of beer in the fridge behind you.
"cool, i'll have that then." you almost choke.
"you uhm.. you sure?" you ask, incase this was some joke and you were gonna make a fool of yourself reaching for the top shelf for nothing.
"positive, hun." he smiles back.
you nod, then grab the step stool and reach for the golden liquor.
you pour it up and slide it over. he thanks you sweetly and takes a sip, nodding to himself like this was a good investment. as he drinks, you notice a silver ball of metal shooting through his tongue, a piercing there as well? imagine all the things he could do with that...
unaware of your less than appropriate internal thoughts, he folds a few fifties up and slips it into the chest pocket of your apron. "good recommendation, honey." these pet names were getting more and more bold, not that you minded.
"you're so welcome." you wink, earning an upwards twitch of his eyebrow in appreciation.
he's sitting in the spot many a men had before, all flirting and trying their luck with you. but with choso there, you felt engaged, you actually wanted to talk to him not just laugh and nod along like you cared for his useless conversation.
you quickly cashed in his money, he'd given you $200 so you pulled out his change, handing it out for him to take.
"no, no. that's your tip, pretty girl." he smiles, imitating your wink.
you're dumbfounded. "an $80 tip? we donât- you donât- tipping isn't even a thing here! please, take this back, i seriously can't take it, i-" he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.
"shh, you're such a sweet tender, you deserve a little get back."
he watches you fluster and fumble with the change like itâs the best thing heâs seen all night.
âhey,â choso says easily, leaning his forearms on the bar. âi promise i wonât miss it.â
you glance up at him, brows pinched. âthatâs still a lot of money.â
âitâs not,â he replies, gentle yet firm. âand even if it was, i wanted to.â
you hesitate, then sigh, slipping the bills back into your apron like youâre conceding a battle you were never gonna win anyways. he smiles at that, pleased, like he enjoys when you finally let him do things for you.
âthank you,â you say quietly.
âanytime,â he answers. âthatâs what iâm here for.â
he stays right there for the rest of the night,
he doesnât drift off and he doesnât get pulled into a loud conversation with anyone else.
he orders a few non alcoholic drink because he needs to drive. but the thing captivating his attention the most is you. his body stays angled toward you like itâs the most natural place for him to be.
you keep working, of course. wiping down glasses, taking orders, sliding beers down the bar. but every time you glance back at him, heâs already looking at you.
youâre aware of him the whole time. the way his eyes follow your body everywhere, the way he straightens when you come back, like he canât help it.
he pulls out every conversational skill he'd ever learnt from collage and puts them all to work, trying his hardest to swoon you as best he can. he compliments you over and over, tells you you're such a good worker, slips tenners in your left pocket when you're distracted. he watches you exist like you were the most incredible, hard working being on earth, because to him? you were.
he talks to you when it gets quiet, he has you toppled over belly laughing at one point from across the bar as he tells you stories of his geeky high school days, or ones where his runs didn't go exactly as planned.
god, youâre hot.
thatâs the thought looping in his head, over and over again until his cock feels a little too snug in his pants.
the apron. the way it sits so tightly around your waist. the way you lean forward when you laugh and the neckline of your top dips down to reveal your pretty cleavage. the way your hands move with such confidence even when the barâs loud and messy. heâs seen a lot of girls. slept with some on occasion, none of them felt or looked like this. like you.
itâs annoying, honestly. quite distracting. he finds himself wondering what you smell like up close. would you smell differently to what you smelt like at the party? if it was just the two of you at the bar, would you speak to him soft and sultry like he'd imagined in his recent day dreams? everything about you allured him to such an agonising standard, he felt like grabbing you from behind the bar and driving you back to his off campus place, wrapping you up in his sheets and keeping you to himself, forever.
so we're weird stalkers now choso? perfect. he shook his head at the intrusive thought.
"you okay, choso?" you ask, suddenly right infront of him, pulling him from his you obsessed thoughts. "ah, yeah, y'know. just day dreaming' about my pretty little bar tender friend."
"oh, we're friends now?" you quiz, smirking at him, he laughs and rests his cheek in his palm. "oh, i wanna be much more than that, baby."
you know he said he wanted to see where this went, but fuck, you wanted him all up in you right now..
hours pass by quickly, just like that.
the flirty conversation flows so easily. you talk about different music, about how shit the school's schedule is. about dumb campus drama (mostly revolving around gojo, surprise surprise.) he tells you stories about sukuna and toji without saying too much, painting them as loud but loyal, which you can picture.
you catch yourself laughing more than usual. leaning close to him when he talks. forgetting to check the time.
once, though fleetingly, suguru crosses your mind. heâd texted earlier asking what time you finished, heâd probably expect you to come over after. you hadn't replied yet, wanting to make the decision of whether or not he deserved you later on. choso's little visit was really letting you know you made the right decision, because right now, thereâs only him. his sexy, deep voice, his expression that never diped into that bored look you'd sometimes see on suguru, the way he was talking to you like anything you said was worth acutely listening to.
âyou ever think about gettinâ outta here?â he asks eventually, gesturing vaguely around the bar.
âall the time,â you admit. âbut itâs temporary. just until i finish my degree.â
âoh, shit yeah. you do art, right?â
âyes sir.â
his eyes light up. âthat's sick, y'should show me.â
you breath out a laugh. âshow you what?"
âyour art,â he says. âyou talk about it like itâs your whole world.â
it kind of is.
youâre about to answer when you both glance up at the clock mounted above the liquor shelf.
12:18.
you groan softly. âshit.â
he checks his phone. âdamn. iâve been here f' ages.â
âsame,â you laugh. âi gotta close up soon.â
he stays and helps you clean up as best he can, then walks you out if the bar like the gentleman he is. you both begin your walk down the street where his carâs parked right by the curb, and your bus stop sits a little further down.
âyou bussinâ it home?â he asks, surprised.
âyeah,â you shrug. âcarâs not really in the budget.â
he nods, like he has to remind himself of that reality. not everyone lives lavishly off of drug money like he does.
you pull out your phone, opening the travel app, but choso notices how your pretty face falls.
âwhat's the matter?â he asks.
âall the buses are delayed,â you sigh. âroad closures.â
you start to type something out, probably to see how long the delay is, when his hand grabs around your wrist.
it's not demanding or tight, no, it's like he's softly taking control.
âiâll drive you,â he says.
âoh, wow, no! you've already done so much for me tonight, choso. you donât have to,â you start. âi can walk, itâs not that far.â
he shakes his head. âno. get in the car.â
and you did, you let him open the door and usher you in, then say through his admittedly good playlist as the gps told him where to go. he was really pulling out all the cards, and it was making you hotter and hotter with each passing moment.
as you approached your apartment, you began getting antsy. you didn't want him to just drop you off and leave. you wanted him inside, both you and your apartment.
"here you go, sweets. safe and sound." he smiles, the door open as he stands outside his car letting you out.
âhey,â you say, looking up at him now that you're standing.
he looks at you attentively, like he too is expecting you to say something.
âdo you wannaâŠâ you trail off, letting your eyes do the rest of the sentence, falling over his chest, his arms, his hips.. âcome inside for a bit?â
it's so utterly suggestive without you saying 'i wanna fuck' outright, and he seems to click on pretty fast.
he knows he told you at that party he wanted to see how things played out, preferably take you on a date before he even thought about fucking you, but shit, if you weren't looking at him with the widest, most eager eyes.
âyeah,â he says after copying you, looking at your body up and down. âiâd like that.â
he grins at the way you look away shyly.
he follows you up the steep steps, trying while heartedly not to stare straight at your ass. your apartment door clicks open, and you step aside to let him in.
the space is dark except for a lamp you flick on near the window.
choso stops dead in his tracks.
your apartments like an art critics wet dream. his eyes move rapidly over the hundreds of different works, some unfinished and some looking old. theres large canvases leaning up against every wall, pottery and clay dust on the coffee table, sketches and watercolored studies taped up wherever there was free space. the place feels so lived in, messy in a beautifully creative way, so full of you.
âholy shit,â he murmurs.
you smile, suddenly very shy at the fact you should've cleaned up abit. âitâs... uh, a lot."
ânah,â he says, stepping further in. âitâs sick."
he walks around carefully, heâs afraid to bump into something important to you. leans in close to a large canvas, squinting a little as he studies it.
âyou like, actually made this?â he asks.
âsure did.â
he lets out a quiet incredulous laugh. âwhy the hell are you not, like, famous or some shit.â
you feel your tummy grow hotter at his praise. âi wish that was how it worked.â
âiâm serious,â he insists. âthis is crazy good. like gallery typa shit.â
the way he says it, so sure, so utterly unfiltered, makes your legs feel weak and nimble, suguru rarely commented this much on your work. you hadnât realised how much you wanted to hear that from someone until now.
he keeps going, pointing things out, asking questions, swearing under his breath when something 'really epic and cool' as he likes to put it, catches his eye.
âthis oneâs my favorite,â he says, gesturing to a piece tucked half behind the couch, it was a distorted portrait reminiscent of francis bacon. âitâs got an allure.â
you laugh. âyou should have it.â
he whips his head over to you in the dim light, and raises his eyes like he's surprised. "really? you'd just give it away? it's so good, i mean-"
"not without compensation, of course." you tease, and you have to quickly grab his hand as he reaches into his pocket to grab for the wad of cash you know is in there.
"what are you-"
"not with money, choso..." you blink up at him feigning innocence, and the switch up from surprise to want is unfathomably quick.
you take his hand from its place in his pocket, and bring it up to cup your face, he follows suit and uses the other to pull your hips against his own.
"well, aren't you a little tease. i wanted to take you out first, y'know?"
"yeah? gonna deny me?" you poke, and the look of pure lust in his eyes tells you before he does,
"wouldn't dream of it." and he's on you, pulling you so close as his mouth works against yours feverishly, pulling surprised moans from your throat at how thorough he's being.
with a breathy sigh into the heated kiss, choso's hands pat their way down to the flesh of your ass, and knead at the fat in such an intoxicating way, it makes your skin bloom with goose bumps.
he's pushing his tongue into your mouth, the ball of metal pierced through his muscle clinking against your teeth as he explores you, your own tongue fighting back and forth for dominance.
you get the cue, the demand in his body language, the way he's growing desperate with each flick of tongue and grab of your ass.
you pull away with a click and push your forehead against his. "w-we should go to my room. now."
he smiles, his flushed cheeks turning upwards. you grab for his hand and guide him to your bedroom, pushing the door open quickly and pulling him inside.
he reconnects his lips to yours instantly, you reply by pulling at his fancy shirt, pawing at the collar until the first few buttons are loose.
he too starts tearing at your clothes, pulling the string of your apron loose, letting it fall to the floor, he makes sure the cash he'd slipped in earlier was still safe in the pockets before nudging it away to the side.
you wrangle is shirt off through messy kisses, and he's got yours unbuttoned to the hem.
"fuck, you're pretty." he sighs, pulling away to take in every inch of exposed abdomen and cleavage.
you smirk, then sit back slowly on the bed. he watches keenly, his pants becoming unbearably uncomfortable as you look at him with that lustful gaze.
you un-clip your bra letting it fall to the side to reveal your tits, and he drops to his knees at the foot of the bed in awe.
"jesus..." he almost chokes, his hands grabbing for the button of your work pants. he slips them off, eyes still fixated on the way you grab and knead at your boobs, the urge to wrestle you back onto the bed and fuck you stupid was becoming all but too much, but he had to restrain, opting to sweet talk you a bit before diving in.
"such pretty tits, baby. y'mind if i touch?" he borderline whines.
your wicked smile eggs him on, and he leans forward, taking the soft flesh into his hands.
you smile as he groans, then dip your hand down to his own belt buckle to help his cock spring free.
moaning as you do so, choso flushes a pretty red as his member slaps his lower abs, becoming shy at the fact you were staring so wide eyed at it.
did it look weird? was he not hard enough? fuck, he felt it. then again, he didn't have sex as often as anyone would assume.
his worries are stomped out when you cover your mouth with your hand, "that... that's fucking massive." you breath airily.
okay, good. that was good.
he smirks and stand up, shoving his pants the rest of the way down. in one smooth motion, he has you pushed down against the bed, your legs spread wide open, you let go of a trapped moan at the sudden manoeuvre.
he's inbetween your thighs in seconds, his face inches away from your pantie clad pussy.
"wanna taste you, baby, s' that okay?" he asks, panting heavily like this was the single most important question he'd ever ask. he takes note of how you nod so eagerly, hooking a finger into the waist band of your panties and pulling them off.
"all yours." you slur, and he wastes no time pressing that beautiful ball of pierced metal right up against your clit. all your fantasies were coming true, it seemed.
he laps at your folds, his mouth working magic on your needy hole. every moan that falls from your plush lips has him hitting that pleasure spot with a faster, more precise motion, trying his best to draw out those sexy little whimpers.
"good fucking girl, you're doing so well." he mumbles into the wetness, the vibration from his tone racking through your core.
"f-fuck! chosoâ iâ i can't!" tears are welling up in your eyes at his unforgiving pace, his eyes clouding over with pleasure as he looks at you from down below.
"just focus, baby, come f'me, yeah? can you do that?" you reply with broken whines and choked up moans, your hands fisting into his hair as your hips grind up against his mouth.
you feel your peak building, growing and tightening so fast you clamp your thighs shut around his head.
he doesn't care that he can't breath, doesn't mind that his only purpose to you right now is to feel good, he want that, needs that.
he flicks at your clit in agonising little circles until you finally come undone all over his pretty, fucked out face.
he moans with you, kissing at your clit as you come down, slowing his pace as your breaths ease from rapid to regular.
"jesus, you uhm.. you really know how to eat a girl out." you breath shyly, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow as he moves up onto the bed, laying down next you with one arm propping up his head.
"you come so prettily, sweet thing. want me t' make you feel like that again?" he smiles, and that coil in your tummy you swear was gone had suddenly re-knotted.
"i- uh..." you're too shy to ask, but it's all you want, and he can tell.
"can i fuck you silly, pretty thing? would you like that?" he asks softly, his hands running up and down your naked, sweaty body.
he takes your arm away from your arms, then rolls over so he's pinning them down as his body hovers above yours.
"you like being told what to do, don't you? prefer being spoilt rather than taking the lead, hm?" he asks in a low tone. your eyes dart all around his face, a guilty sign that told him he was right on the money.
"perfect. just sit there and take me, honey. tell me if it's too much and i'll stop, moan loud if you want me to fuck you harder, m'kay?" he quizzes, your shyer eyes find his as you nod gently, "yes, please." you breath, and he goes right ahead.
his fingers slip into your sopping wet cunt and start to scissor you open, kissing the small gasps straight from your throat.
he rubs at your clit with his thumb, preparing you to take him in.
"y'think you can handle it, baby?" he pants, jerking at the base while his hands work you from the inside. you're bobbing your head up and down unevenly, a strangled yes juttering part your lips through noises of pleasure.
he removes his fingers with a wet pop, and lines himself up missionary with your dripping entrance, ready to slowly sink in until you're twitching with anticipation.
"relax honey, you can take it." and take it you did.
as his tip pushes past your hole with a deep groan from choso's lips, you bite down on your own at the sheer diameter. this was gonna be a stretch.
inch by tantalising inch, he's got you choking out jumbled praise and encouragement as your walls flutter deliciously around him.
"fuck, you're so tight, holy fuckâ" he stammers as his tip finally presses against what he can assume is your cervix, based on how you're writhing beneath him.
"okay, baby. m' gonna âoh fuckâ move."
you nod with your eyes squeezed shut and your hands gripping his biceps. "o-okay, cho."
that nickname makes him ten times harder, now he's bucking his hips deeper and deeper into your pussy with strangled groans. "keep callin' me that and i'll come right nowâ" he jokes through pants.
he continues abusing your puffy little hole, using you all up until you're a blabbering mess under this thumb.
"g'naâ ohmygoshâ i'm gonna come!" you cry, a tear slipping from your eye at the pleasure, choso leans down and kissses it away.
"c'mon honey, gimme one more, good girl, you can do it." he moans, picking up his
pumping pace.
you can't handel this any longer, he's dicking you down you so good, better than you'd ever felt before, you can't help but tighten up on his cock and spasm around it until he too is cumming straight into your cervix. bullseye.
you both go limp, your bones turning to mush after such intense sex.
yet, the second choso registers the way your body tenses, the way your breath sounds a little uneven from the discomfort of the sweat and other bodily fluid, heâs stood. he presses a little kiss to your shoulder first, then mutters something soft you barely catch before he slips out of bed.
âstay right there, baby,â he says, low and reassuring. âi got you.â
you hear drawers opening, the ensuite sink running. the quiet domestic sounds feel surreal after everything you'd just done with a guy you'd known for a week that somehow felt like years. when he comes back, heâs holding a damp cloth, warm from the tap. his expression has shifted completely, all that intensity replaced by a loving look of focus and care.
âokay,â he murmurs, sitting beside you. âgonna clean you up a bit, yeah?â
you nod, too loose to do much else.
he starts slowly with your legs, your stomach, your sides. heâs so incredibly careful, thorough without being clinical, like feeling clean and comfortable was his god given mission in this point in time. when he moves between your thighs, softly wiping through your sticky folds, you make a small whiney sound before you can stop yourself.
âhey,â he coos immediately, pausing. âsâokay. i know itâs sensitive.â
his voice is so gentle it almost hurts.
he keeps going, so much softer now while talking to you the whole time.
âyouâre okay,â he murmurs. âi got you. just breathe for me.â
you whine quietly at the sensation, fingers curling into the sheets. he soothes you with words, with touch, like he knows exactly how close to the edge you still are.
âthatâs it,â he says. âyouâre doinâ so good. i know, i know. almost done.â
when he finishes up, he sets the cloth aside and immediately pulls you into him. you hadnât actually realised how cold you felt until youâre pressed against his big chest, his massive arms wrapping around you without hesitation.
you tuck yourself into him snugly, like your body already knows where it belongs.
here, with him.
he rubs your back in slow passes, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. your cheek rests against his dipping collarbone, his heartbeat steady under your ear.
âthere you go,â he murmurs. âisn't that better.â
you let out a long breath.
he keeps talking, his calming post-sex voice like a lullaby.
âyou were incredible tonight,â he says. âso fuckinâ good. y'hear me?â
you hum softly, too warm and pliant to argue.
ânah,â he continues, brushing your hair back with his fingers. âi mean it. you made me feel real good. i'm real lucky.â
your heart squishes together fondly. you think, distantly, about how no oneâs ever done this before. not like this. not with this much loving intention.
you'd thought that was the perfect word to describe this situation; loving.
hell, you weren't really used to living. geto never stayed like this. he never once touched you like you were something to be taken care of after sex. moreso like his friend who happened to be in his bed (which was what it was.)
the thought flickers, brings with it a small pinch of guilt that you don't notice choso clocking. you and geto had agreed to only sleep with eachother, that it would be good to only sleep with a single person... you push away the thought.
after all, right now, chosoâs here. his warmth, his voice, his hands. you don't see how he scans over your guilty expression like a lost kid.
âhey,â he murmurs when you look up at him. âyou okay?â
âyeah,â you whisper. âjust⊠really comfy.â
he smiles against your hair. âgood. thatâs the goal.â
he's brushing his long fingers through your hair, tapping his knuckles to a beat against your back, anything to try and keep you fully here with him. he didn't like that look of guilt in your face from before.
âi hope this didnât mess anything up,â he adds quietly. âwith that date i was talkinâ about.â
you move your head just enough to look up at him. his eyes are searching your face for any sign of regret.
âit didnât,â you say. ânot even a little.â
relief flickers across his beautiful features. âgood,â he says. ââcause i really wanna take you out. do it right.â
you smile, nose brushing his chest. âiâd like that.â
he exhales, long and content, then pulls you closer.
âget some sleep,â he smiles. âiâll be right here.â
your eyelids grow heavy faster than you expect. the steady motions of his hand through your hair, the sound of his breathing, the way he holds you like this is exactly where youâre meant to be.
just before you drift off, you feel his lips press softly to the top of your head.
you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in all of him, all of choso.
~
a few days later, beta theta phi.
choso's sitting in the kitchen, picking at a plate of food with a small smile on his usually calm, bare face.
you were a constant in his brain ever since he'd gone home from your apartment with that painting he 'earned' after the best sex of his life. (said painting is now strung up on his wall.) he'd never stopped thinking about you since that night.
your adorable little moans, the way you melted into him as he fucked you so deep, the way your pretty fucked out body moulded against his afterwards.
you were like crack and he was a hardcore crack head, feining for more of your attention.
as he thinks about stalking your instagram for the fourth time that day to see what you're up to, footsteps stomp down the hallway, heavy ones.
toji accends the stairs shirtless with his hair still damp like heâs just come out of the shower. sukuna follows behind like always, a towel draped over his shoulder, rummaging through a bag of chips before he even hits the kitchen proper. showering at the same time? gay ass guys, choso thought to himself.
âwhat the fuck,â toji says, stopping just short of the island. "why you look like that.â
choso looks up, brow lifting. âlike what?â
âhappy,â sukuna answers around a mouthful of chips. âit's weird."
toji snorts. âyeah, thatâs new.â
choso rolls his eyes, but he doesnât fight the smile this time. he grabs his plate, forks a big bite then shrugs it off like itâs nothing. âcanât a guy enjoy his food?â
ânah,â toji says, pulling out a chair and sitting backwards on it. ânot you.â
sukuna leans against the counter opposite him with his arms crossed. âwhatâd you do. make bank today?â
choso shakes his head, chewing. ânah.â
âbig sale?â
ânope.â
toji squints. âyou finally get your dick wet again or something?â
that does it, choso coughs, nearly choking, then glares at him. âthe fuck is wrong with you.â
sukuna laughs. âso thatâs a yes.â
âshut up,â choso says quickly, pointing his fork at toji. âand donât start.â
toji grins wider. âthat's gotta be it. youâve been walking around like you won the lottery all day.â
choso sighs. "yes, i'm seeing a girl.â
toji stops and sukuna freezes in the middle of a reach for another chip.
ââŠwait, actually,â sukuna says flatly.
choso smiles at the two boys and continues. âmet her at that blacklight party. sheâs really cute. we talked for hours, i visited her work, and i drover her home. you don't get the rest, but iâm taking her out this weekend.â
toji stares at him like heâs grown another head. âyou?â
âyes,â choso says. âme.â
âyou donât talk to women,â sukuna says slowly.
choso scowls. âi talk to women.â
âno you donât,â toji cuts in. âbusiness doesnât count.â
choso opens his mouth, then closes it. fine. maybe thatâs fair.
toji leans back, eyes narrowing in thought. then something clicks. his expression shifts. âwait.â
choso looks at him.
âis this,â toji says, pointing vaguely, âthe art girl you were askinâ about the other week?â
sukuna tilts his head, casual. âsheâs hookinâ up with geto right now.â
...wait... what?
choso goes dead still.
geto.
like, his friend geto?
the one who's always hanging around with him and gojo on tursdays? that geto?
the one he always calls when he needs help at the gym, that geto?
the guy who's one of his most regular buyers, that geto?
his mind latches onto the man instantly, and starts unraveling his entire being piece by agonising piece. he's tall, jacked as fuck, his hair's always smoothed and shiny to perfection, always tied back just right with no knots or bumps, he's got that sexy confident smile and endearing laugh that reels women in.
he's the kind of man who attracts literally anybody, hell, he'd heard even gojo had a thing for him in high school, gojo!
shit.
he thinks back to the porch. to the way you hesitated when he asked about a boyfriend. the way you said it was 'complicated' and how heâd brushed it off, convinced himself it was nothing serious. how he saw that flash of guilt spread across your face after you two had finished. how youâd smiled when he touched you, how easily youâd leaned into him like there wasnât anyone else in your head at all.
geto.
holy fuck.
choso doesnât say anything although the muscles in his neck were contracting with each clench of his teeth, eyes dropping to his plate like the answerâs written there. his appetiteâs gone.
a week.
heâs been thinking about you for a week straight.
asking gojo questions about you when they hung out in class, 'm' just curious, man, she's a pretty girl.' leaving out the part where he was eight inches deep inside you just the other night. stalking every single one of your socials to the point he had your first few posts and username memorised.
and now this?
maybe thatâs why gojo had looked at him funny. why heâd laughed a little too hard when choso asked if you were seeing anyone. maybe it wasnât shock, god, maybe it was disbelief.
choso gulps.
toji watches him closely now. âthat true?â
sukuna shrugs. âmhm, he told me at that same party you were talkin' bout'.â
...
âyou good?â sukuna asks looking a little worried at the man's switch uo.
choso lifts his head up and that bare look finds its way back onto his face and sticks like a face hugger. âmhm.â
toji frowns. âyou sure.â
âiâm sure,â choso says, setting his fork down. âitâs whatever.â
it isnât. but heâs not about to unpack the, 'just found out the girl i'm lowkey falling head over heels in love with is also hooking up with my good friend,' pill right now.
he grabs his keys off the counter and reaches for his leather jacket. âgot a few deliveries to run, see y'later."
sukuna opens his mouth because he really wants to say something else, then thinks better of it. toji just watches him go with sympathy laced through the coloured bands of his irises.
choso slips pre roll out of his pocket and lights it up, trying to rationalise all of this. he'd only met you around a week ago, it's not like you guys were a thing. sure, he'd fucked you better than he'd ever fucked anyone in his life, but he shouldn't be weird and insecure about this, he knows that. it's just, he's never really gone for this before. usually it was girls asking him out, of which he'd reject kindly because he was too busy doing anything else.
but with you, that random night out on the porch, it felt like there was a pull he couldn't just toss aside, he wanted you... and he thought he had you, especially after that intimate night.
getoâs on a come-when-you-can basis, might as well take care of that now and try ease up his racing thoughts. nothing like a good interrogation.
he flops down into his M2, engine turning over as his thoughts narrow to one thing, one task, he leaves suguru a voice message.
"yo, suguru, m' coming over."
~
choso kills the engine and sits there for a minute, his fingers resting on the steering wheel like grounding himself before stepping into situation he already knows he wonât enjoy.
he sighs, then steps outta the car, heâs halfway across the driveway when a happy, familiar voice cuts through the noise of the active fraternity, âyo.â
gojoâs jogging down the steps two at a time with his gym bag slung over one shoulder and his hair pushed back. he grins when he sees choso, big arms opening on instinct.
before choso can dodge it, gojoâs got him in a quick, bone-crushing hug.
gojo squints at him, like heâs clocking something off but hasnât put his finger on it yet. âyou headinâ to suguruâs?â
choso doesnât slow down. âyeah.â
âuh,â gojo starts, glancing back at the stairs like heâs weighing whether to say something. âhey, maybe not the best time, think he's in the shower.â
but choso doesn't listen,
âcho,â gojo calls after him, louder now. âseriously, man, let's hang out first!"
choso doesnât turn around. he takes the stairs with his heart climbing up into his throat with each step. by the time gojo gives up, heâs already at the top landing, moving down the hallway.
he stops in front of suguruâs door and knocks.
theres movement inside, the sound of water shutting off, then a drawer opening.
the door swings open.
suguru stands there in nothing but a towel hanging around his hips, his hair damp and loose around his shoulders, his skin still flushed from the heat of a shower. water beads along his collarbone and trails down the center of his chest. choso hated how good he looked.
his eyes fall all over sugurus body before he could stop it.
itâs dumb, after all, heâs seen suguru shirtless a hundred times. in locker rooms, during pool parties, it never mattered before, but now it does, because youâve seen him like this. because youâve touched this, because you've liked his annoyingly perfect body.
suguru notices choso's ogling and smirks, leaning one arm against the doorframe. âwhat,â he says lightly. âyâwant a workout routine or somethinâ?â choso forces a short laugh, âshut up.â
âmm,â suguru hums confused. he steps aside anyway, letting choso in.
suguruâs place is always so precise and neat. his beds always made, desk cleared, shoes lined up like they belong in a sneaker catalogue. itâs never bothered choso one way or another.
but today, he isnât looking at any of that. his eyes move fast scanning without meaning to. the desk. the floor. the chair by the window. the bathroom door still cracked open, steam drifting out.
then the bedpost.
he spots a pop of pink fabric slung around the wood.. a pair of panties hangs loose around the corner of the frame, looking forgotten. they're pretty, they look your size, and they're unmistakably not suguruâs.
fuck.
suguru follows his line of sight, then sighs softly. âah, ignore that. keep forgetting to deal with those.â
he reaches out and turns choso by the shoulder, forcing him to face him. suguruâs expression shifts, teasing gone, replaced with something more intent.
âwhatâs up with you,â he asks. âyouâve been actinâ weird as fuck, cho.â
choso gulps. for a second, he considers lying. saying nothin then walking out.
but he can't, so instead, he digs into his jacket and pulls out a small bag. he presses it into sugurus chest.
âfour grams,â he says flatly.
suguru nods slowly, then looks down. âhm,â he mutters. âokay.â
he crosses the room, opens his dresser, and pulls out a few bills. counts them once, then twice, before handing them over.
âseventy-five,â he says. âweâre good?â choso takes it, nodding. âyeah.â
suguru studies him now, really studies him. âyou didnât come all the way over here just for that, normally we meet in the middle."
choso exhales through his nose. âi know.â
âso,â suguru prompts. âtalk.â choso hesitates, he's not sure if he sounds insane or not, or if this is totally overstepping some unspoken boundaries, but he can't keep it in.
âare you sleepinâ with [name]?â
suguru coughs out in surprise, ââŠuh.â he leans back against his dresser, arms folding loosely. âyeah,â he says after a sec. âi am.â
choso nods once, like he'd expected it, âm'kay, are you dating her?"
suguru frowns. âwhat? no.â
âplanning to?"
âno,â suguru repeats. âitâs just sex.â he tilts his head, curiosity creeping in. âwhy?" choso doesnât answer right away. suguru narrows his eyes at him. âwhat, you into her or somethinâ?â
âno,â choso says too quickly.
suguru huffs a laugh. âcâmon, man.â
chosoâs voice edges colder. âi said no.â
âokay,â suguru says, hands lifting. âjust askinâ. âcause if you are, you should probably drop it.â
chosoâs eyes snap up.
suguru keeps going, unaware of the turmoil writhing his friend. âjust lookin' out for you, man. sheâs really into me. like, a lot. wouldnât be fair to either of you.â
the strong inside choso's heart break at the sound of that.
he scoffs. âyou think so, huh?"
suguru blinks. âwhatâs that supposed to mean?"
ânothing,â choso mutters, already turning away. âwas just curious.â
âchoââ
choso waves him off without looking back. âdonât worry about it.â
he opens the door, pauses just long enough to throw something over his shoulder, his voice very uncharacteristically cruel. âtry not to confuse sex with somethinâ you donât actually want.â
then heâs gone.
the door shuts with a dull thud.
suguru stands there, staring at the wood long after chosoâs footsteps fade down the long hall.
his whole body feel shaky, like he'd just been stepped on. suguru did not like to be crossed like that.
he glances back at the bedpost. at the pink panties hanging there, the ones he teared off before fucking you dumb into his mattress... at the faint imprint you left on his space.
he frowns.
why does that bother him? heâs never cared before. he's told himself he couldn't commit to a relationship right now, that you being there for him was always just a mutual sex agreements. a good friends with benefits sitch. so why does the idea of someone else wanting you feel so incredibly wrong?
why does it feel like a rugs being pulled out from under him?
he exhales, runs a hand through his damp hair, then grabs his phone. you name pops up on his caller app and he hesitates only a second before calling.
âhey,â you answer, your voice isn't as excited to hear from him as it usually is... weird.
suguru smiles automatically. âhey, pretty.â
you don't giggle at that, or tease him back, you just hum through the receiver.
he frowns slightly. âwhatâre you up to?"
âjust⊠home,â you say. âwhatâs up?"
âi was thinkinâ,â he starts, leaning back on the bed. âmaybe you come over tonight.â thereâs a moment of silence and uncertainty that almost never came when it came to you.
âi dunno,â you say. âiâm kinda tired.â
thatâs new.
suguru chuckles then lowers his voice. âcâmon, hun. i really need you.â
you sigh. âneed me how?"
âbadly,â he says, letting warmth creep in. âbeen thinkinâ about you all day.â
you dint reply instantly and he rushes in before you can pull away and reject him further. âi miss you,â he adds. âmiss the way you feel. the way you look at me.â
âsuguââ
âbaby,â he cuts in gently, âcome over. yeah?â
he strings the pet names together, calls you sweet. calls you pretty. tells you heâs lonely. tells you heâs been wanting you.
he hears the shift in your breath before you speak again.
ââŠokay,â you say quietly.
his smile returns, very, very satisfied. âgood girl.â
he hangs up, feeling way too good about the skill he has to persuade you. he thinks back on choso, how he'd learn a thing or two about threatening his arrangements.
~
youâre on your back in the long haired man's room before you can really register how you got there...
you feel so, so guilty. you didn't want to be here, but you felt awful for suguru, for fucking someone else when the agreement was to only fuck eachother, and talk about it if you were to screw someone else.
maybe that's why you caved into his pleas, you wanted to make it up to yourself, trying fix what felt like a horrible betrayal in your eyes.
sheets cold against your hot skin, suguru hovering over you, naked and sweaty like he belongs there, him, not choso.
"sugu, iâ i wanna talk... there's something i should tell you," but you're cut off by his lips, his demanding, intoxicating lips... the ones working magic on helping you forget about your new friend.
you told yourself you weren't going to melt so easily into him when you got here, that you'd at least try your best to tell him about choso, how you're seriously reconsidering your little arrangement. but it seems he's got other plans, because his lounge is already halfway down your throat ripping lewd moans from your mouth.
he kisses you like heâs reminding himself that you're his. his girl to fuck, to claim without an actual title, not choso's.
his hands frame your face, pads of his thumbs brushing along your jawline as if heâs taking you back, he settles his weight between your legs, torso grinding up against your clothed pussy.
his lips kiss and suck against yours in a careful rhythm, coaxing rather than just taking. it isnât frantic like he's panicked, no, itâs got a beautiful sense of reverence that drives you crazy and lulls away any former thought of taking accountability from your pretty little head. it's clear, even through your cloudy suguru filled haze, that heâs trying to prove a point to himself with every pass of his mouth on yours.
âfuck,â he murmurs softly into your mouth then your name.
his fingers dip down to your soaked panties, he presses his thumb harsh against your clit, pulling that one moan he knew meant he hit the perfect spot.
he shifts them to the side, then slams them deep into your gaping hole.
with every curl he's pulling such pretty groans from your throat, he doesn't care if his tendons begin to ache from how relentlessly he's bullying his thick fingers into your soft cunt, no, he's running you like this over and over if it meant hearing these addictive whimpers, ones he was causing, not choso.
he pumps them against your fluttering, gummy walls so tantalisingly slowly but so precise, it makes your eyes roll into the back of your head with pleasure. he wasn't as sweet as choso had been, he was rough and chasing that high with expert precision.
"such a pretty fucking girl. you're all mine, okay? you're all mine âshitâ." his circles are relentless and binding, but that little monolog seemed to suddenly snap you out of whatever this was.
"suguruâ fuckâ please, stop it. we need to talk." he breaks away from latching onto your neck, then his thumb retracts as he sits up to look at you. this was what he didn't wanna do. talk about it.
he wanted you to get fucked, realise how good you had it with him, and forget about choso...
"what is it? hm?" he try's his best to stay calm but his distain slowly creeps up on him. "s' this about choso?" he quips.
what the fuck? how did he know?
suguruâs sitting up now, and you're pulling your skirt down over your lower half.
this wasnât how you wanted him finding out but, âi donât think i can keep doing this,â you say quietly.
his brows knit. âdoing what.â
âthis,â you gesture vaguely between you. âus. like this.â
...
he exhales through his nose. âyou're serious?â
âyeah.â
his mouth tightens. âlet me guess what.â he spits, and you tell him before he can further his sarcastic venture, âbecause i think wanna see choso.â suguru scoffs bitterly, he knew that was coming but he decides to pry further, âoh yeah? see him how?â
âlike.. properly,â you say. âhe asked me out. on like⊠a date. an actual one.â
his face contorts and stirs into disgust, then irritation. âyouâre kidding.â
âIâm not.â
he scoffs, pushing off the bed and pacing, still half naked. âyou barely know him, [name]!â
âi know,â you retort. âbut heâs been so good to me, sugu, really good.â
âheâs bad news,â suguru seers. âyou donât need a no good loser like him. he has no prospects, no plan for the future, he's bad!"
your stomach sinks at the quips. âdon't say that.â
âsay what?" he bites, and you grow redder with anger, âtalk about him like i'm so naive kid who doesn't know what iâm doing!"
he turns back to you, frustration spilling over now. âheâs a dealer. he sells drugs for a fucking living, thatâs it! no goals, no future, he's sketchy as fuck.â
you shake your head. âthatâs not fair.â
âitâs true.â
âyou'd have no clue! you don't know anything about him.â you spit back, and he laughs meanly. âoh please. know him? heâs got the personality of a brick wall. what, he buy you drinks and suddenly heâs prince charming?"
your chest tightens. âhe listens to me.â
that shuts him up for half a second.
you keep going, voice steadier now that youâve started. âhe shows up. he actually cares about what i have to say. he doesnât treat me like something he picks up when heâs bored.â
his eyes flash. âthatâs not what this is.â
âthen what is it?" you ask. âbecause youâre the one who said it was just sex. over and over again.â
he runs a hand through his hair, agitation spilling from every pore on his smug face. inside his brain, it's a mix of conflicting feelings. suguru likes you, for real, he has ever since high school. not once had he ever thought he'd be with any other girl, just you. but college was for fun, for hookups and parties and no real commitments, so why would he pour more effort into you than he needed? why couldn't you just be his with no strings attached? he wanted you, he loved you, some might say. suguru was not ready to give you up this easily, you were his first.
the thought of you choosing someone else makes his lungs constrict and his brain fizzle and crack until his heart breaks apart at the valves.
âyou donât need choso,â he says again, trying to regain any sort of resemblance of control. âyouâve got me.â
you let out a bitter laugh. âno. i donât.â
his gaze snaps to you. âwhatâs that supposed to mean?"
âyou donât get to say that,â you reply. ânot when you wonât even call this what it is, you're a pathetic excuse for a man. if you're gonna tie me up like a dog and use me for sex, at least have the balls to let me know that's all i am to you."
he looks away as the veins in his neck pulsate and grow, part of him knows youâre right, but to be honest? part of him really just doesnât care. he knows deep down he wants you more than that, why couldn't you understand?
âyouâre just being weird because for once someoneâs actually into me and you can scare them off.â you add, the words tumbling out now.
he wants to spill his guts, tell you all he really wants is you, that he's been enthralled with you ever since high school he's always just been far too immature to really commit, but instead, his eyes narrow. âthatâs bullshit.â
âis it?" you challenge.
he opens his mouth, then closes it.
you sit straighter with your heart hammering. âi really like him, suguru. he treats me well. heâs a good person.â
something ugly flickers across his face. that hurt. you were supposed to be his, now you were telling him you really like another guy? you're his girl! you're his girl.
he laughs, low and cruel. âso thatâs all it takes, huh? a promise of a date and suddenly youâre spreadinâ your legs like a whore?"
what the fuck? that's not what he wanted to say! he cringes at himself but it's too far gone, he can't put a lid on the rage that's bubbling over the edges of the pot that is his heart.
your breath leaves you in a hurried rush. âwhatâ what did you just say.â
he doesnât take it back immediately or rephrase, that's the worst part. âyou heard me.â
your eyes sting but you try your best not to cry. âhow do you even know about choso?â you bite.
his face goes all rigid. âi could tell.â
âtell what?"
âby the way you weren't keen." he says, then adds, "and he came by earlier.â
your stomach drops. âhe came here?.â
âyeah,â suguru says. âasking about you.â
the petty realisation floods over you in a wave of rage. âso thatâs why you called me." you laugh, gutted. âyou didnât want me. you wanted to get your get back, right?â
his temper flares. âdonât fucking twist this.â geto was usually level headed, even in the most heated of arguments, so you knew his anger was real here.
âyou invited me over because your ego got bruised,â you say, voice rising. ânot because you care about me or what i want."
âthatâs not true.â
âthen why did you just say that to me?"
he looks at you with eyes full of distain, âbecause i shouldnât have ever let this get this far. youâre just someone i fuck sometimes. thatâs it.â
oh.
you donât cry at that nor do you yell. you just nod softly, like your body's finally understanding what your heartâs been screaming at you for so long.
âm'kay,â you say softly.
you stand, smoothing your skirt down and reaching for your shirt with hands that feel so far away. he watches intently, fuming, not realising the gravity of the bum ass, idiotic move he'd just pulled.
you grab your things without sparing him a single glance.
âwait,â he says, finally hearing the finality in your movement.
you pause at the door, then you step out and shut the it behind you with a soft click.
inside, suguru stands there for around a minute in silence. then, his legs give out and he drops onto the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
âfuck,â he whispers.
he stares at the floor, replaying every word he knew he should of never said. every look he flashed you when all he wanted to do was tell you how he actually felt, that he was wrong and he knew that, but he needed you all to himself. the way the pretty voice he'd always adored sounded when it broke.
he realises, too late, that he really does love you.
he was just too immature to keep you.
~
you needed to call choso.
sugurus number was blocked the second you got home to your apartment, an act you clearly should've done ages ago.
though, your minds not caught up on him anymore, no. it's running miles around choso.
two things were clear right now,
1. he knew about you and suguru.
2. he probably wasn't too happy about that.
and now suguru was out of the picture, you had to tell him the whole entire truth. that you'd gotten rid of him, that you were willing to put every ounce of yourself back into choso, if he'd let you.
you bite at your lip, contemplating if he'd even pick up if you were to dial. you had no way of knowing if he was turned off by all of this or if he'd still wanna give this whole thing a try.
one way to find out, you thought.
you scroll through your contacts until you find his name and hit call before you can overthink it. it rings far longer than you expect, and when he answers, his voice sounds tired, much quieter than usual. âhey.â
âhey,â you say, trying to keep your voice steady. âum. i know itâs late.â
âyouâre fine,â he says. thereâs a pause. âwhatâs up." it's not much of a question rather a statement he has to say to be polite.
you gulp nervously. âthereâs something i really need to talk to you about. like, in person.â
another moment of silence that stretches abit longer this time round.
âokay,â he says softly. âiâm in the middle of a run right now.â your heart dips, then lifts when he continues. âi can come by after. if thatâs alright.â
relief spreads through you, âyeah. thatâs perfect. thank you.â
âiâll be there as soon as iâm done,â he adds.
âdrive safe,â you say.
.
on his end, choso leans back against the seat of his car, his phone still in hand. he sighs to himself, he already knows how this goes.
heâs had around a day to imagine it. an entire day of replaying everything in his mind, of telling himself not to get too attached to this amazing girl he'd sworn on.
in his head, youâre going to sit him down and say you had fun while it lasted, but youâre choosing to fuck with suguru. youâre going to say youâre sorry. youâre going to say it was complicated and now itâs clearer.
he grips the steering wheel and exhales slowly. he finishes the delivery on autopilot, exchanges empty words he barely hears, his mind is clearly somewhere else.
by the time he pulls up outside your building, his chest feels so incredibly heavy.
he sits there for a while, staring at the entrance, telling himself to keep it together, telling himself heâll be fine no matter what you say.
he steps out of the car and walks up to your door, he lifts his hand to knock, and the door opens before his knuckles touch the wood.
youâre standing there with damp hair from a shower and a serious look on your otherwise adorable face.
you just look at each other, and no one talks.
he doesn't expect you to, but you step forward softly, then gently wrap your arms around his torso.
itâs sort of on instinct, itâs need, and itâs a big relief. he too wraps his arms around your back, pulling you closer to try ease the tension in his soul.
âhey,â he murmurs.
âhi,â you say back into his shoulder.
you pull away and move aside, he walks in, glancing around with widened eyes, your apartment still pulls at his attention even now. it all feels so clearly you. he forces himself to focus when you gesture to the couch.
he sits, hands resting on his knees. shoulders squared. ready for this horrible rejection..
you sit beside him, not too close, not far either, you take a moment before you speak.
âiâm really sorry,â you say softly. âabout suguru. about him getting involved with us at all.â
his eyes are darting around nervously but he's still honed in on what you have to say.
âi didnât mean for him to make you feel weird or uncomfortable,â you continue. âand i didnât mean to keep things from you.â
you look forlornly down at your hands. âi blocked him today.â
he shoots his head up in surprise, cute.
âi shouldâve been honest from the start,â you say. âwe had this on and off thing. nothing serious. but meeting you changed that for me.â
you look up at hum, âi like you. a lot. and if youâre still into me, iâd really like to start clean with you. no stupid secrets.â
he looks at you back tenderly, watching over your every feature.
âyouâre the coolest guy iâve ever met,â you add with a small laugh. âand i donât wanna mess this up.â
for a second he just stares at you. then he smiles, it's big and goofy, and so so bright.
âyeah,â he says, sort of laughing. âyeah. iâm really happy you picked me.â
your heart jumps.
before you can reply, his metal clad hand comes up to your cheek pulling you in closer to his lips, he then kisses you softly.
itâs beautifully gentle and ever so slightly desperate. he's leaving small open pecks like each one's it's own form of praise and forgiveness.
your hands curl into his shirt, grounding yourself in the feeling of him here. choosing you, and staying.
when you pull back, your forehead rests against his. you smile wide, youâre glad you closed one door to open this one.
"so, about that date."
~
the two weeks you'd spent dating choso kamo was seriously the best time of you life.
you wake up in chosoâs apartment much more than your own now. his place is fancy, it sits high up in one of those off campus complexes that cost more than they look like they should.
he's got the nice polished concrete floors, floor to ceiling windows with automatic blinds, furniture that fits his dark yet aesthetic so well.
right now youâre tucked into his side on the couch with your legs all tangled together, your heads resting against his chest while the city glows outside the window and he sifts his fingers through your hair. you'd both just come down from a night full of intense loving, choso eating you out for a good hour before completely ruining you just as he had the previous night. now, there was food on the way as he massaged your lowkey back lovingly.
"you okay, honey?"
"more than okay. cho,"
"god, keep calling me that and i'll take you for round three."
this is how itâs been, consistently.he takes you in the most lovely dates, expensive dinners where he never lets you see the bill. not once. you did try at first, bless your soul, fumbling for your wallet, making jokes about splitting it, insisting you could handle yourself. and every time, he shut it down with the same calm tone.
"i got it, sweetheart."
no argument or anything, no crazy big ego. just a nice fact that he could take care of you without blinking.
he takes you to places youâd never, ever pick on your own. spots where the menus only have triple digest beside each item. he watches your face when the food comes out, in awe watching your beautiful eyes light up. he always asks if you like it with a big smile, and he always remembers what you order. when you say you like a certain dessert, what do you know? it shows up again on your door step a few nights later after you tell him you had a rough shift at work.
he never makes you feel small about your money, or lack there of. thatâs the part that gets you the most. when you joke about being broke, he doesnât laugh at you. he just nods like itâs another bit of information about you, not a flaw. when you mention rent stress or art supplies you still need for class, (never with the intention of milking him for money) he listens very intently. a few days later, those things stop being problems. there's an envelope left on your kitchen counter, a new set of brushes delivered to your door. him shrugging it off when you ask.
"you donât have to worry about that, honey. thatâs my job now."
"but iâ it's to much money, cho, i shouldn'tâ" he always shuts you up with a deep kiss.
he comes to the sway bar a lot now, too. he slides onto a stool and waits for you to notice him with a small smile. he's always dressed well and never sloppy. he orders one drink, sometimes only non alcoholic, and stays for hours on end. at the end he tips you like a rich man, which is what he was.
he laughed when you'd try and shove it back at him. he'd lean down and tell you to stop being stubborn.
"i like taking care of you."
itâs not just a suave line, you can tell. he looks so pleased every time you finally accept it.
he drives you straight home after shifts even when itâs late, he says the bus is no place for a girl as cute as you to be that late at night, hell, he even contemplates buying you your own car just to put his mind at ease, then decides it might be just a bit too early in the relationship for that..
every night you donât have work, he's either taken you out or you're crashing at his place, tonight's no different. you're dressed in one of his oversized paris texas shirts after a few hours of sex, and he's got you sat up in his lap caressing your hips.
dating him feels nice and calm. there's no guessing, absolutely no waiting for texts that never come. he checks in with you without hovering and always tells you where he is. he plans things, actual plans. a museum date because you mentioned a new exhibit in passing, a drive out of the city just to watch the sun drop behind the hills and star gaze without the suffocating light pollution. late night food runs where he lets you talk about nothing and everything while he listens to your every word.
he treats you like youâre worth effort, every single day.
on the couch, he moves around then reaches for the fluffy throw blanket draped over the armrest, pulling it over both of you. he smiles down at you fondly.
"you're so fucking pretty, y'know that?"
"mhm, you only tell me that every day." you smile back, and he laughs, tickling your ribs for the attitude.
you giggle into his chest as you smack the muscle, begging him to stop.
after he's teased you enough, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiles into your skin.
"baby." he pulls away and looks you in the eye waiting for you to reply.
"yesss?"
"sukuna's having a birthday party at our frat. i think sigma chi's invited aswell. can you come?" he asks kindly, stroking your head lightly. you nod as soon as he says it, happy to tag along to any function he was going to.
"good. i wanna show you off a little." he announces, slapping your ass half heartedly.
you roll your eyes, but your face is flushed a pretty pink. he laughs, squeezes you once more, then leans back into the couch.
choso has never felt more content than he did right now. he never thought he'd be one for sappy relationships, but for you? god, he'd do this in every lifetime, you were utterly perfect for him.
only thing left is to show everyone else that, too.
~
sukunaâs birthday is exactly what you expect and still somehow more? there's like, literally five beer pong tables lined up in the back yard alone like this was some sorta tournament rather than a birthday bash.
"yeah, he's really into beer pong. it's fitting, i guess." choso laughs
the house infront of you is loud before you can even step inside. sukuna's favourite music flows out the open door, cups are raised and swaying or abandoned on any flat surface. there are, inexplicably, five more beer pong tables set up in different corners of the main living room.
chosoâs hand stays firm at your lower back as he guides you inside, the pretty little dress he'd bought you fit exactly how he said it would. it's nice and snug around your ass, and it's short enough to make his eyes widen when you walked out of the bedroom earlier. the expensive designer shoes he'd gotten you still feel new under your feet. youâd protested, of course, told him he didnât have to do all this, but he told you he wanted to. just like with any other thing he'd gotten you in the past three weeks.
you clock the way a few heads turn as you pass by, and smile to yourself at how good it feels to be on his arm. little did you know, this was his plan all along, to have you looking all sexy and all his as a final fuck you to the guy he knew would be here tonight. choso didn't fight with losers like him, but he could definitely put his money where his mouth was (literally) and show off a little.
âthere they are,â gojoâs voice cuts through choso's slightly possessive thoughts.
heâs smiling so wide as he steps up to you two, his freakishly long arms opening wide preparing for your poor boyfriend. choso barely has time to brace before gojo crashes into him, hugging him hard enough to rock them both back a step.
âhappy birthday to sukuna, i guess,â gojo says, then pulls back, eyes sliding straight to you.
he looks you over once, it's quick but not rude, then he smiles softly. proud, almost.
âyou look really good,â he says, leaning down like heâs about to tell you a secret. his voice gets slightly bashful. âand iâm really glad you finally ended up with someone who treats you right. even if it meant dropping my best friend.â
thereâs no judgment in it or awkwardness, just pure honesty.
you laugh quietly and hug him, arms wrapping around his middle. gojo squeezes you back solidly, you're content with his nothing about this changed how much he cares about you.
toji is right behind him with his meaty arms crossed and his eyes observing. he looks choso up and down first, then his sues land on you.
âdamn,â he says flatly. âshe's a looker.â
choso exhales through his nose a little irritated.
toji smirks, clearly pleased with himself.
âthatâs my girlfriend,â choso says calmly. he's good at keeping his emotions in check. plus, it was toji, this idiot wouldn't know any better.
toji pauses, then nods once. âshit, i forget [name]'s the chick you were getting all giddy over. good job." he says, and claps choso on the shoulder before offering his hand. they dap each other up and choso smirks triumphantly.
âcâmon,â choso says, fingers curling around your wrist. âgotta see the birthday boy.â
he guides you through the littered bodies as gojo and toji trail behind you, the beer pong table nearest the back is surrounded by people yelling over a close game. sukuna is there, his pink spiky hair all wet and damp with sweat, roaring with laughter as he cooks shiu and sinks the final cup. (no one thought he was gonna loose, but they all cheer regardless)
you spot suguru at the same time he spots you.
heâs standing just off to the side with nanami and shiu, he spots your arm wrapped around choso's and you swear to god you see his eye physically twitch in distain.
you giggle softly at the sight, and choso pulls you into him tighter, staring the man dead in the eye as he squeezes your waist. what a sexy asshole.
sukuna turns when he hears chosoâs coming over, his already large grin spreading wider. âthere he i!" he bellows. he always got overly cheery when he was inebriated.
sukuna swallows choso in a big hug and the dark haired boy claps him twice on the back. "god, haven't seen you in ages man! where y'been?" sukuna questions, choso just rubs his neck bashfully and cocks his thumb to point at you. "keeping the missus looked after, y'know how it is."
sukuna's eyes fall onto you and he's surprised. he thinks back to when choso was asking about you that first time and then to when he'd stormed off when he'd told him you were sleeping with suguru. a small proud smile falls over his lips. he always disliked geto anyway, the righteous asshole.
âhappy birthday,â choso says. âyou're old as hell now.â
âshut up,â sukuna laughs. then drags his attention back to you as you step in for a side hug, very quick and polite. âhappy birthday, ryomen." you smile, and he scruffels up your hair fondly.
he glances back at choso, then leans in and mutters, "good pull,â he says quietly. âglad you could wrangle her away.â
choso chuckles, pleased.
you can feel suguruâs stare as shiu and nanami fall back into another game of beer pong without even looking back at the guy. although, it doesn't matter. choso's still making a show of pulling you into him every chance he gets, which you can tell is really ticking suguru off.
sukuna wipes his hands on his jeans as he pulls his attention away from shiu and nanami and back to choso. âyou better not of gotten me anything, cho.â
choso just smiles and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small credit card shaped gift wrapped in neat paper. he hands it over casually.
sukuna sighs with half a smile. âyou didnât have get me shit, man.â
âjs' open it.â
toji and gojo lean in from their spots either side of you and choso. sukuna peels it open, eyes scanning the card once, then his mouth drops open.
âno fucking way.â
he looks up, stunned. âthis is real?â
âmhm. two years,â choso says. âa membership for that fancy gym yer' always whining about.â
sukuna lets out a sound thatâs between a laugh and disbelief. âwhat the actual fuck.â
he pulls choso into another, much tighter hug. âthank you, brother, seriously.â
choso pats his back. âno problem, i love you, remember?â he says, the inside joke making both sukuna and toji chuckle.
then, like itâs nothing, choso reaches back into his pocket and pulls out another card. hands it to toji.
toji freezes. âwhatâs this.â
âpart of his gift,â choso says. âdonât want him training alone.â
toji stares at the card. then at sukuna. then back at choso.
toji exhales a sharp laugh and grips chosoâs shoulder. âi appreciate it, man, seriously. holy shit.â
sukuna looks between them, clearly overwhelmed, then clears his throat and tries to play it off. âalright, alright. enough with the heartfelt shit.â
but his grin doesnât drop one bit.
you watch it all from chosoâs side, chest warm in a way that has nothing to do with the noise or the crowd. this is him, he's so generous without making it a big show. loyal without asking for any kind of back credit. he's a solid man in a way that makes everyone around him relax and naturally lean into him.
choso glances down at you and catches you looking.
âyou good, honey?" he asks quietly.
you nod, smiling up at him. âyeah. iâm really good.â
his lips curve into the kindest of smiles as he kisses your tenderly on your head, careful to not mess up your makeup.
off to the side, suguru looks away in disgust having witnessed that little interaction.
'read it and weep.' choso thinks to himself.
but he was far from done, one more little display and he'd be satisfied.
so, later on when everyone was a little drinker on the punch shoko had 'accidentally' poured four bottles of vodka in, he has you pressed up against a wall away from the main hustle and bustle, yet up close to where he knew suguru was lounging around.
"cho, people are gonna see!" you squeal, but his hands donât stop grabbing at the curve of your ass and pushing you harder against the wall.
"good, want them to see." he coos, latching onto your throat and sucking at it softly.
despite your pleas, you were very into this. your boyfriend wasn't always this needy so this show was really doing it for you. you let him claim your throat in bright, blooming hickeys and groaned as he hooked his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue down your throat.
the exchange is heated and passionate, any on looker could tell this was a moment shared between two people who loved eachother deeply, exactly what he was going for.
from behind him, sukuna and toji catch wind of you two and let go of broken cheers, making choso smile into your lips. they both joke about 'not knowing choso has this in him,' which made a few of his other friends add onto the mantra of playful encouragement.
he's living for the way your cheeks heat, the way the attentions making you all hot and bothered. but most of all, he's high off the fact that when he peeks behind him through an open eye, he sees suguru angrily stand from his spot on the couch, and storm outta the house.
mission accomplished.
A/N this is not proofread at all đ going back to my roots and writing choso look at me go đââïž i hope you guys enjoy the lil smau yayy
i write plenty of shy and nice girl!reader x sukuna, but what about sukuna with bitchygf!reader?
the kind of girl who snaps before she asks. who glares harder than she smiles, crosses her arms when sheâs not getting her way, and always has something to sayâsharp, precise, and mean enough to make a lesser man flinch.
but sukuna isnât a lesser man.
you bite, he bites back. you insult him, he smirks and drags it lower. you stomp around the kitchen like a storm cloud and bark orders at him like heâs your personal gruntâfix this, grab that, you folded the laundry wrong, again, moron. and he only shrugs, unbothered, licking his teeth like heâs debating whether or not to fuck you on the countertop just to shut you up.
you get under his skin like no one else. not in a âget out of my faceâ kind of way. in a you piss me off so bad iâm hard kind of way. the attitude. the pout. the venom in your voice when you say âis it that hard to not fuck everything up, sukuna?â like heâs your headache, not your boyfriend. he hates it.
heâs obsessed with it.
because for all the barking, all the snarling, all the glares you throw at him like knivesâthereâs one place you donât win. one place you canât.
and itâs right here, between the sheets, under his weight, with your ankles shoved to your ears and his cock buried so deep in your cunt it feels like youâre choking on it.
âwhat happened to all that mouth, huh?â he grunts, hips snapping forward hard enough to make your tits bounce, hands wrapped tight around the backs of your knees as he folds you in deeper, tighter, rougher. âthought you were gonna tell me how much i suck.â
but all you do is whimper.
soft and helpless. the exact opposite of what you were an hour ago, slamming the cabinet doors and snapping at him for forgetting to buy your drink at the store. now youâre melting. drooling. pussy clenching so sweet around him he can barely hold himself together. you claw at his shoulders like you want to fight and cry at the same time, lip trembling when you try to form words but only manage a soft, broken âsukuâfuck, sâtoo muchââ
he growls. âtoo much, but still takinâ it like a good girl, huh?â
your glareâs gone. all watery now. no bark. no bite. just a ruined little thing pinned under his weight, crying on his cock with each deep thrust like youâve never been mean a day in your life.
and he fucking loves it.
loves the way your fight dies out, the way your legs shake when he tells you to keep them open, the way your voice breaks down into whiny little please, please, fuckâ when he doesnât let up. the change is addictive. the way he turns his brat into his baby. makes you soft with nothing but cock and a little pressure on your lower belly.
you can have the last word everywhere else. heâll let you.
but in this bed, underneath him, fucked too dumb to remember what you were mad about?
Jason Todd who doesn't touch you sexually for at least several months into your relationship. He tells you it's because he wants to take things slow
"I want to treat you like you deserve" he said
Jason Todd who gets sweaty palms and shaking hands when you're making out. He blames it on the lazarus pit
"Sorry" he rubs his palms against his jeans, "...side effect." He mumbles with embarrassment
Jason Todd who won't let you sit in his lap when you're kissing because he's already half hard the second your thigh touches his
"I want to be able to see you" he reasons
Jason Todd who brushes his thumbs over your nipples for the first time and thanks you with tears in his eyes. He'll deny the tears if you ever bring it up
"Thank you, thank you, thank you-" he whines "you're perfect, thank you for letting me touch you"
Jason Todd who feels like he needs to go back to church and pray to God for bringing you into his life the first time you do have sex
"Jesus Christ" he grunts "shit you feel so good"
Jason Todd who is only ever gentle with you and almost has an existential crisis when you ask him to choke you during sex
"Baby, what? No, I- these hands-...." He trails off when he sees the pout on your face and hears the whine in your voice
Jason Todd who feels like vomiting when he has his hand around your throat, slowly adding more pressure every time you tell him "harder Jay". His hands have blood on them, he doesn't want to stain you
"Like that?" "Is this okay?" "Am I hurting you?"
Jason Todd who feels like a monster when he gets turned on by the flutter of your eyes and the way you gasp against his palm
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He thinks to himself as his stomach churns with arousal and shame
Jason Todd who, after you've gone to sleep that night, retches until his stomach empty and he's dry heaving
àšà§ shy girl's first time smoking w frat!sukuna
you didnât even like parties. not really. the music was always too loud, the drinks too warm, and the couches too sticky with god-knows-what. but sukuna had invited youâtold you to âjust come for a bit,â palm heavy on the small of your back like he knew youâd say yes. and now you were here. outside. standing on the cracked concrete steps behind the frat house, your fingers nervously picking at the edge of your sweater sleeves.
he lights up without saying anything at first. leans back against the railing, tattoos glowing under the flicker of a motion sensor light. it smells like weed and cold air. heâs wearing a black tank top like heâs not freezing and his sweatpants hang low on his hips, drawstring barely tied. the smoke curls out of his mouth slow, lazy. like heâs not even trying.
you watch, kind of mesmerized.
âyou ever tried it?â he asks.
you shake your head. too fast. âno.â
he grins, pink tongue pressed against his teeth. âwant to?â
you hesitate. then: âmaybe.â
he laughs. not in a mean way. in a youâre cute kind of way. and it makes your stomach flutter embarrassingly hard.
âcâmere,â he says, offering you the joint between two fingers.
you take a tiny step forward. he smells like sandalwood and cologne and something warm. his fingers brush yours when you take it, and your breath catches. he noticesâbut doesnât say anything.
you hold it wrong. obviously.
ânot like that,â he murmurs, and before you can blink, heâs stepping behind you, hand on your waist to turn you slightly, chest brushing your shoulder. âlike this.â
his fingers curl around yours, adjusting your grip. heâs close. too close. you can feel his breath on your ear when he speaks.
âokay,â he hums. âdonât overthink it. just breathe in. not too deep. hold it a sec. then out.â
you do. try, at least. it burns. your lungs seize. you cough hard enough to double over, hand to your chest.
sukuna laughs again, low and full. âaw, shit. that was adorable.â
you shoot him a look. glare weak, eyes watery.
âyou okay, sweetheart?â he asks, already brushing your back, soothing in a way that shouldnât feel as good as it does.
âiâm fine,â you mumble, embarrassed. your voice cracks.
he grins again, mouth all smug and soft. âwanna try again?â
ââŠmaybe.â
he watches you this time. doesnât say anything when you steal another puff, smaller this time. still a little rough. still not good. but you donât choke. not as bad, anyway.
âattagirl,â he says, and something in your stomach twists.
you hand it back.
âtastes weird,â you admit.
âyouâll get used to it.â he takes another hit, exhales toward the sky. then he glances over. âbet youâd like it better from my mouth.â
your heart skips.
âw-what?â
he shrugs, casual. âshotgun. ever tried?â
you shake your head.
he taps ash into an old beer can on the railing, then takes one more drag. when he looks back at you, itâs all heat.
âcâmere,â he says again, voice lower. slower. âiâll show you.â
and you do. you hesitate, which only makes him smirk deeper. cocky. knowing. like he can feel your pulse skipping through your wrist.
ârelax,â sukuna murmurs, voice thick with smoke. âjust open your mouth for me.â
you shouldnât listen. you know that. but your lips part before you can think twice.
he steps in closer. impossibly close. one arm braces against the railing beside your head, his other hand holding the joint with two lazy fingers, almost burned down now. the smoke clings to him, to the collar of his shirt, to his breath. he brings it to his lips again, inhales slowâthen leans down before he exhales, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger like heâs done this a hundred times.
his mouth barely grazes yours.
and then he breathes it out.
warm smoke floods your mouth, your lungs. itâs smoother than before, still hazy, but your focus is too scrambled to register the burn. because sukunaâs lips are hovering over yours, eyes half-lidded, watching you like heâs already undressed you with his gaze.
you swallow, hard. his mouth lingers, breath mingling with yours, lips not quite touching.
âgood girl,â he says, so low itâs almost a growl.
your stomach flips violently. the praise settles between your thighs like heat.
âsee?â he adds, thumb dragging down the curve of your jaw. âtastes better like that, doesnât it?â
you nod. or try to. itâs barely a motion, just enough to make him grin again.
âone more?â he offers, already moving in again, like he doesnât need your answer.
and this timeâthis time when he exhales, your lips brush. soft. smoky.
heâs not kissing you. not really. but it feels like one anyway.
your knees wobble. his mouth hovers again, so fucking close.
and then he licks his lips. eyes flick down to your parted ones. waits.
âyou wanna taste me again?â he asks, almost amused. âor you gonna be shy on me now, sweetheart?â
you donât realize how warm you are until youâre back inside. maybe itâs the way the room tilts a little. not enough to scare you, just enough to feel like the floorâs moving soft beneath your socks. maybe itâs the bass still thumping through the walls. maybe itâs him, still pressed against your side.
youâre not even high, really.
just⊠warm. tingly. floaty. like a fizzy drink. like your mouth tastes like smoke and sugar and youâre not sure if itâs from the shotgunning or just him.
he doesnât move away. his hand finds the small of your back when you wobble slightly. not to steady you. just to touch.
âyou good?â he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
you nod. too quickly. then blink up at him.
and thenâgod help youâyou giggle.
his brow arches. âoh?â
you donât even know whatâs funny. the way his shirtâs positioned? the way his necklace dangles right at your eyeline? the way your body feels like itâs made of candlewax?
you canât stop staring at his mouth.
and he knows it.
âyouâre high,â he says, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.
you shake your head. âno,â you whisper, though you sound more breathless than you mean to. âjust a little⊠floaty.â
he hums. fingers brushing your side, lower now.
âfloaty,â he echoes. âthat what weâre calling it?â
you nod again. but slower this time. eyes still locked on his mouth like itâs the only solid thing in the room.
âyouâre staring,â he murmurs.
âmânot.â
âmmhm.â
youâre still staring. especially when his tongue flicks across his lip, like heâs daring you to do something about it.
andâgod. you do.
you lean in.
not a kiss. not yet. just close. your nose grazes his. your breath catches. your hand fists the front of his shirt like you need something to hold onto, and his eyes flicker, half-lidded.
âyouâre actinâ different,â he murmurs, voice dipped in something low and amused.
ânoooo,â you whisper, lashes fluttering.
âno?â his hands slide down to your hips, pulling you snug against him.
âyouâre just⊠really sexy,â you say. it slips out too fast. too soft. the moment it leaves your mouth, your eyes widen in horror.
he laughs. full-on.
you cover your face with both hands, mortified.
he pulls them down, gently.
âdonât hide,â he says, grinning now. âi like this version of you. high and horny.â
your mouth drops open. âam notââ
âbaby,â he interrupts, dipping his head until your noses bump, âyouâre grinding on my thigh.â
you freeze.
then blink down.
you are. barely. just a little. soft and slow, like you didnât even notice. and now your hands fly back up to your face.
he groans, deep in his chest.
âfuck,â he mutters, voice ragged. âyouâre gonna kill me.â
he presses a thigh up firmer between your legs and watches your lashes flutter.
âdamn,â he murmurs, pulling your leg over his lap, âwho knew my girl just needed a little smoke to show me how she really is.â
you squirm, half-embarrassed, half still riding whatever fuzzy, low-buzz high is humming in your limbs. you press your face into his shoulder, but heâs already grinning, hand dragging up the inside of your thigh like itâs second nature.
âdonât get all shy now,â he teases, voice dipped in that lazy charm. âtoo late for that.â
your legs tighten around him.
and he feels it.
he groans under his breath, head falling back for a second like heâs collecting himself, before his eyes drop back to youâa little heavy, a little wild.
âbathroom,â he says.
you blink. âwhat?â
âbathroom,â he repeats, already shifting you off his lap, steadying you when you stumble slightly. âunless you wanna grind my thigh in front of the whole fuckinâ party.â
your eyes widen, heat climbing up your cheeks. but your hand still finds his, fingers lacing without thinking.
the walk is a blur. music thudding behind you, hallway lights too bright. you barely notice people talking. laughing. someone calls his name but he doesnât answer, just tugs you down the hall, his hand firm on your waist like he owns it.
you hadnât even realized how bad itâd gotten until he locked the bathroom door behind you.
until the echo of the party vanished, muffled through tile walls and music-thick floors, leaving you both in this tiny, hazy space that smelled like weed and faded cologne and something sweeterâhim. you were dizzy. not just high, not just warm from the smoke still coating the back of your throat, but dizzy from the way heâd been looking at you all night. since the shotgun. since the way your lips had brushed and youâd looked up at him with glassy eyes, pupils blown wide.
you donât remember who kissed first, only that your back hit the counter and his hands were already everywhere. under your skirt, gripping your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing and sitting you on the edge of the sink.
âcanât believe you,â he muttered, pulling your panties down to your knees. âyouâre fuckinâ soaked. this from one hit?â
you whimperedâbarely nodded. it wasnât just one. it was him. the heat of his palm against your neck. the heavy drag of his voice every time he called you baby in front of the other guys. the way he looked at you like he wanted to ruin you, just so he could build you back up again.
his rings were cold when they brushed your folds, but the burn of his mouth made you jolt. he knelt between your legs like he had something to prove, mouthing at your pussy like it was the only thing in the world worth praying to.
and fuck, you wanted to cryâhis tongue was slow, thick, greedy, curling inside you while his thumb circled your clit just the way you liked. you could feel yourself dripping down the curve of his wrist, making a mess all over his hand, but he didnât care. didnât pause. just kept groaning into your cunt like he was starving and you were the only meal heâd ever wanted.
you tugged his hair. moaned his name. rocked your hips against his face and choked out a high, half-sobbing plea when your thighs started to shake.
ââkunaâfuck, wait, iâmââ
he didnât wait. he never waited when it came to your pleasure. you came on his tongue like it was the only thing that made sense anymore, thighs clamped around his head, one hand slipping behind you to keep from sliding off the sink. your vision blurred. your lungs trembled. your legs twitched as he kissed back up your body, his cock already out, already hardâheavy against your inner thigh as he licked his lips like he could still taste you.
âyou want me inside?â he asked, and you nodded fast, too fast, whispering something that barely made sense but sounded like yes and please and need it now.
he fucked you slow at first, one hand gripping your waist to keep you steady, the other sliding up the back of your neck to cradle your head. he kissed you while he did it, tongue hot and slick, swallowing every noise you made, like he didnât want anyone outside that door to hear how good he made you feel.
but he got mean when you clenched. when you whispered his name like a prayer. his hand dropped to your throat, thumb resting against your jaw, and his hips snapped harder, fasterâfucking up into you like he owned you. like you were his, and he was going to fuck that fact into your soul.
âlook at you,â he rasped, fucking you so deep your body jolted back against the mirror, âhigh off one little hit. letting me fuck you dumb in the frat bathroom. you like this, baby?â
you nodded, gasped, whimperedâhis cock hitting that soft spot inside you over and over until tears leaked out the corners of your eyes.
âyeah,â he growled, fucking you harder, sloppier, voice breaking with it. âyouâre my good fuckinâ girl, huh? my sweet little thing who gets high and begs for dick. gonna let me cum in this pussy, sweetheart?â
you couldnât answer. not really. not with how hard you were trembling, how your nails dug into his shoulders and your mouth parted in a silent moan. he took it as a yes anyway, slamming in once more and spilling inside you with a guttural sound youâd never forget. you were still panting when he kissed you again, slower this time. messier. his cum leaking out of you, still pulsing around the base of his cock.
he pulled back, sweat-damp and grinning, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers.
your lips are kiss-swollen. your lashes heavy. your thighs still trembling.
his thumb traces the corner of your mouth.
âfuck,â he mutters, voice ragged. âyouâre unreal.â
you blink up at him, a little dazed. still floaty. still warm.
âcan we go again?â you whisper.
his brow arches. â...like round two?â
you nod slowly, lips tugging into a half-smile.
âof which one?â he asks, grin tugging at his mouth. âsmoking or sex?â
àšà§ how frat!sukuna & shy reader met + started dating <3
you didnât expect to see him there.
not in the back lot behind the lecture hall, not leaning against that beat-up corolla like he didnât have a single care in the world, dragging on a cigarette like the day hadnât already started five minutes ago. his hair was pushed back haphazardly, a hoodie thrown on over his tank like he hadnât bothered with a mirror that morning. you could smell the smoke from where you stood, fumbling with your tote bag that had just snapped under the weight of your lab notebook and two too many textbooks.
pages were everywhere. some flapping under your feet, some floating into the gutter water. you stood frozen for a second, more embarrassed than anything, blinking at the mess like maybe if you stared hard enough, it would fix itself.
it didnât.
he was the one who moved. not a word, just a quiet grunt as he crushed his cigarette under his heel and crouched down beside you. he was huge this close. inked fingers picking up the edge of your psych notes, his knuckles brushing against your knee. you tried not to flinch, not to panic, not to think about the fact that sukunaâthe loudest, cockiest, most talked-about guy on campusâwas kneeling in front of you holding your planner like it was made of glass.
you mumbled a thank you.
he raised a brow. âyou good?â
you nodded quickly, then reached for the broken strap of your bag and immediately winced.
he clicked his tongue. âyouâre not carrying all that shit across campus like that.â
âiâm okay,â you tried to insist, even as you watched him scoop up the rest of your stuff, stack it neatly, and tuck it under one arm like it weighed nothing.
he didnât offer. he just started walking. and youâyou followed him. down the path, past the side of the dorms, toward the frat house youâd only ever seen in passing.
âyou can justâjust hand it over. i can carry it the rest of the way,â you stammered.
he didnât even look back. ânot unless you want your shoulder fucked up by the time you hit bio lab.â
âi donâtâi donât want to take up your time or anything.â
âwhat, like i was busy?â he scoffed, glancing over his shoulder. âdonât stress it, princess.â
and maybe it was the way he said itâbut your stomach turned. and then the words fell out before you could stop them.
âare you⊠gonna expect something from me?â
he stopped. dead in his tracks. right there on the sidewalk. the breeze rustled the corner of your printout, the one he was still holding.
he turned to you, brow furrowed, face unreadable. âexpect what?â
you looked down, suddenly wishing youâd kept your mouth shut. âi meanâi donât know. people say you only help girls if you think youâre gonna get something out of it. i didnât mean toâsorry, forget it, that was stupidââ
âsex?â
your eyes snapped up. he didnât look angry. not even annoyed. just⊠confused.
âyou think iâd carry your shit and walk you across campus because i expect to fuck you for it?â
you opened your mouth, then closed it again. he huffed out a laugh, but it wasnât mean. more like disbelief. like he was realizing something for the first time.
âjesus,â he muttered, glancing away. âiâm not a fuckinâ creep.â
âi didnât think you were,â you said quickly. âitâs just⊠thatâs how people talk.â
he stared at you a second longer. then he handed you your books, all perfectly stacked. his fingers brushed yours.
âwhatâs your name?â
you told him and he nodded. âwell, now i know who to look for when i need to fix my reputation.â
you blinked.
âyou can tell people,â he added with a smirk. âthe ryomen sukuna walked you to class and didnât try to fuck you. crazy, right?â
you smiled. just a little. and that was enough. he saw it. and from that moment on, he always made sure you saw him.
after that first day, things changed.
not in any explosive, movie-scene way. more like soft glitches in the matrixâsmall, strange patterns that started popping up in your everyday life. like the way sukuna always seemed to be where you were, without ever making it seem intentional.
youâd show up to the dining hall, and heâd already be there, feet kicked up on a chair, nodding for you to sit even before you got your tray. at first you hesitated, standing awkward and clutching your drink, but heâd just pat the seat beside him and go, âyou can sit, yâknow. i donât bite. unless you ask.â
you never really responded to those comments. just dropped your gaze, your cheeks warm, and quietly unwrapped your sandwich. he didnât push. he just talkedâabout how shit his chem class was, how hungover he still was from friday, how satoru threatened to kick him out of the frat groupchat if he sent one more drunk gym mirror selfie.
he didnât flirt the way people warned you he would. not really. he teased, sure. but it was light, casual. never serious enough to scare you off. just enough to make your heart kick a little harder when he looked at you.
he called you âshy girl.â like a nickname. like it was endearing.
âshy girlâs got a dark academia playlist,â heâd grin, seeing your phone light up with your study timer. âyou gonna let me listen to that while i pretend to do my essay?â
you werenât even sure when you started spending hours with him. it started in publicâshared tables at the library, post-class walks, sitting together on the frat house porch during the golden hour when the boys were too loud inside and you were too overstimulated to focus anywhere else.
then it shifted.
it became nights. not overnight at first. just late. sitting in his room while he scrolled through music and showed you unreleased rap tracks from his friend who âmightâve gotten kicked out but has insane beats.â youâd stay curled on the edge of his bed, hoodie too big, knees tucked up, pretending not to be nervous while he passed you a cold bottle of yerba mate and insisted you had to try it.
you never drank the whole thing. he never let you throw it out. he always finished it with a smirk, like it meant something.
you didnât remember when you started sleeping over.
maybe it was after midterms, when you accidentally dozed off beside him during an anime rerun, your head slipping onto his shoulder. you woke up with a blanket tucked around you and his arm slung behind you on the couch.
he didnât mention it. just said âyou snore a little,â like it was no big deal.
then it happened again. and again.
somewhere in the blur, his room started feeling like a second home. you kept a lip balm in his desk drawer. your charger was always plugged into the wall. his frat brothers started nodding at you when you walked in like you werenât just some girl anymore. like you were his girl. even if no one said it.
and sukunaâgod, sukuna was soft with you.
but sukuna was still... sukuna. loud and reckless and a little bit of a dick. he still left his empty red bulls on the counter, still got into dumb arguments with toji about which protein powder brand was superior, still acted like he owned the sidewalk when you two were walking somewhere and wouldnât move for anyone. he still flirted shamelessly with the waitress even when you were sitting right there, not because he meant itâbut because it was muscle memory. frat boy habits that died hard.
and sometimes, heâd say shit that stung. not always intentional. sometimes it was just him being careless, a throwaway comment or teasing jab that landed wrong.
but you were shy. sensitive. youâd laugh it off at first, but then youâd go quiet. your shoulders would tense. your eyes would shift down and away, and youâd nod along too much, trying to pretend it didnât bother you.
he noticed. the second it happenedâhe noticed.
âwait. hey. fuck, noâi didnât mean that like that,â heâd say, voice dropping, frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he reached for your hand. âyou know i didnât, right?â
youâd just shrug.
sometimes heâd catch the glassy look in your eyes before you turned away and it made his stomach twist in this awful, unfamiliar way. because heâd seen girls cry before. but never because of him. not like this. not someone he gave a shit about.
and for the first time in his life, sukuna didnât just apologize.
he adjusted.
he stopped making those comments. stopped brushing things off with humor when you got overwhelmed. stopped calling you âwomanâ in that joking, condescending tone when you corrected him about something. stopped turning everything into a bit just to avoid the quiet.
because the quiet wasnât empty with you. it was sacred.
he started pulling back. not from you, but from the rest of it. the chaos. the lifestyle. the late-night parties and girls grinding on him at kickbacks and the endless cycle of beer pong and blackouts and shallow distractions. not because you asked. you never did. in fact, you never brought any of it up.
he just⊠didnât want it anymore.
not when he could be with you instead. in his room. on the couch. watching you fall asleep on his shoulder while some old movie hummed in the background. he started ghosting the groupchat more, started saying ânah, iâm chilling tonightâ when they invited him out. the first time he missed a themed party, toji asked if he was sick. satoru texted âwho is she?â with twenty eye emojis.
sukuna left him on read.
he still teased you. still made stupid jokes and wrestled you into headlocks when you were fighting over what to watch. still took dumb shirtless mirror selfies and asked if he looked âacademically hot.â he didnât lose himself.
but he was learning how to be soft with you.
how to be patient.
how to earn the way you looked at him when you smiled, like maybe he wasnât some campus legend or cocky asshole or party boy with a body count in the triple digits.
just a boy who liked being around you more than anything else.
and more than anything, he didnât want to fuck it up.
they didnât get it at first.
his frat brothers.
they saw you onceâcurled up in sukunaâs hoodie, hands wrapped around a matcha latte, barely making eye contact with anyoneâand the whispers started.
âshe doesnât look like his type,â one muttered under her breath, eyebrow raised.
âthought he liked wild girls,â toji added, squinting toward you from across the common room.
satoru, smug as ever, just grinned. âmaybe heâs tryna wife up a sweetheart for once.â
but it was naoya who really crossed the line.
you were sitting on the back porch with sukunaâs jacket draped around your shoulders, talking quietly to shoko. sukuna was only a few feet away, half-listening while pretending to be focused on his vape, when naoya sauntered up beside him.
âshy girls give the best head,â he said, elbowing sukuna like it was funny. âbet she lets you do anything you want. doesnât even talk back, huh?â
and sukuna didnât say anything. he just decked him.
no warning. no slow boil. just one clean punch across the jaw that dropped naoya to the grass, stunned and sputtering.
âsay some shit like that again,â sukuna growled, standing over him, âand youâll be spitting out teeth next time.â
toji laughed. satoru was hollering like it was the best show heâd seen all week.
but sukuna didnât care about any of them.
he turned back toward the house, jaw tense, chest heaving. you were standing by the door now, eyes wide. youâd clearly seen it happen. he didnât know how much. didnât know if you heard what naoya said. didnât want to explain himself with some clumsy, half-assed excuse.
so he just walked up to you, ran a hand through his hair, and muttered low, âyouâre exactly my type.â
the words werenât for you. not entirely. but the way you looked at himâlike youâd just seen something realâit stuck.
after that, things shifted.
but truth is, sukuna had no fucking clue how to ask you out.
he knew how to start a fight. how to roll a blunt. how to get a girl in his bed if he wanted toâbut this? this was different. he wasnât trying to just get lucky. he wasnât trying to play it cool. not with you.
so he did what any hopeless, tattooed, secretly-soft frat boy would do when faced with a problem.
he went on tiktok.
typed into the search bar with an annoyed sighââhow to ask out a shy girl without scaring herââand scrolled. and scrolled. and scrolled. most of it was bullshit. some of it was too corny, even for him. but one video made him pause: âbake her something. get her a treat. keep it simple. donât make her overthink it. just show her you thought about her.â
cue the next scene: sukuna, standing at the front of baskin robbins, absolutely dead-eyed, arms crossed as the teenage employee nervously read back his order.
âyou want the message to say⊠can i be your boufriend?â
âyeah,â sukuna grunted.
âyou mean boyfriend?â
âno. boufriend. like, yâknow. âboyfriendâ but wrong. cute and shit.â
the employee blinked. nodded. â...got it.â
that night, he showed up outside your dorm with the tiny ice cream cake in both hands, a sheepish little smirk tugging at his mouth, like he knew it was dumb but was trying to play it off.
âdonât laugh,â he muttered, cheeks a little red. âitâs cold. like you. so it reminded me of you.â
you blinked. stared at the cake. then stared at him. then blinked again.
â...boufriend?â you whispered, covering your mouth as you giggled.
âit was a choice,â he defended, but the sound of your laugh made it all worth it.
you didnât answer right away.
instead, you leaned against the doorframe, all shy and flustered and pink-cheeked, then whispered: âdo i get to keep the cake and the boy?â
he grinned.
âyou get whatever you want, sweetheart.â
and that was it.
you kissed him on the cheek that nightâjust a quick press of lipsâbut he looked at you like it wrecked him. like youâd just broken the toughest part of him open.
and by the time he walked back to the frat house, empty cake box under his arm, phone lighting up with tojiâs texts asking where the hell he was, sukuna just smiled to himself and thought:
single dad!nanami being overworked to a point that he can barely take care of himself or his kid. all he wanted was to be a good father, but not even that was possible if he barely saw his own child. he took it upon himself to be more present in his son's life, and that's when he met you at the park. because yuji had taken your child's toy on accident.
single dad!nanami felt his heart drop seeing you walk up when he tried to resolve the conflict amongst the kids. "what's going on?" you asked and even if your voice was beautiful, nanami still felt like he was about to get scolded himself. "i am so sorry, miss. my son, yuji, he mistaken your child's toy for his own." all you can do is smile, patting your daughter's back. "it's okay, please, don't be so upset." he felt smitted at the interaction and took yuji the next day, hoping to see you there.
single dad!nanami didn't get out much. not after being in full custody of yuji, who was single handedly three children in one. when you started to come around more often, nanami realized that what yuji needed was a companion. and your daughter gave him exactly that. they both ran around together, laughter bouncing off the walls at ever little thing. he couldn't help but to turn and witness you smile at the children. and in that moment, nanami allowed himself to fall.
single dad!nanami isn't one for extravagant gestures. when he gathered enough courage to ask you out, he decided there was one person he truly had to get permission from. he sat down with your daughter, who playfully pouted then smiled, giving nanami a tight hug. "you can date my mommy! as long as yuji still comes around!" he smiled, patting her head.
"if your mother agrees, then you'll be seeing a lot more of yuji and i."
single dad!nanami felt relieved when you said you'd go out with him. it'd been years since his first official date and honestly, he was nervous. he dressed nice, booked reservations to the nicest spot in town. when he came to pick you up, seeing you all dolled up for him had his heart pounding. and slacks growing tighter.
single dad!nanami was severely overworked and underfucked. he felt as if he could come at your eyes alone, raking over his dress shirt, buttons straining his shirt. he'd be a liar if he didn't choose the shirt because he knew it brought his physique out more. and he was glad you were paying attention.
single dad!nanami never put out on the first date. except for this one time. you were spread out in the back of his car (thankfully taking yuji's carseat out) and he was buried between your thighs, enjoying this meal better than the overpriced one he paid for. your cunt was beautiful and you were responsive. gasping and jutting your hips out, half riding, half fucking his face. nanami grinded against the leather seats, allowing you to use him as you pleased.
single dad!nanami remembered condoms. but didn't realize your intentions were to go raw so soon. he tried to argue, but seeing your pout and your hand ghosting your swollen folds, spreading your cunt open, wisps of your cum connecting your lips had nanami aching.
single dad!nanami finally broke his dry streak that night, enjoying your cunt around his cock. his thumb rolled gentle circles against your clit while you were bouncing on his cock eagerly. your pussy was heaven, warm, gooey walls squeezing him just right. he rolled his head back, eyes fluttering, hands grasping your hips and bouncing you faster on his cock.
single dad!nanami was a true gentleman. his actions spoke louder than his words and he cleaned you up, held your hand the entire car ride and up to your apartment door. you gave him a kiss goodnight and nanami was pleased to hear that tonight wasn't a one time thing.
Hated how hot and stifling the air would get, hated pressing his body to someone elseâs sweaty and dirty one. Heâd be the first one to jump out of bed after coming down from the high of his orgasm to clean himself up.
After being tangled up with another person and then having them cling to him, it would make Sukuna's skin itch uncomfortably. He isn't one for that kind of intimacy, he tells himself.
That was, until he started sleeping with you.
You were clingy as hell.
You scoot up to Sukuna every opportunity you get since that one time when you fell asleep on his arm during movie night and he did not shove you away.
Give you a hand and you take up his whole damn whole arm.He didn't know why it was so hard to say no to you. Every time you look up at him with those big fucking eyes his brain just turns to mush.
You want his lap? Fine, he's already manhandling you and sitting you on his lap while you study, hands encircling your waist like you belonged there. You want a kiss? He grumbles and curses under his breath but he does it anyway. Cheeks turning a tinge of pink when you see each other on campus and you go up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek and giggle. His friends are already laughing at him, but that's okay. He beats them up later when you're not around.
He doesn't know what makes you so different, you just are. He had to punch a tree one time to prove to himself he wasn't turning soft. After a while, it was him who starts to seek you out. Your little kisses, your hugs, your warmth on his lap. Before you, everything was just about sex. But now? He snuggles and buries his face in your neck when you sleep. Refusing to let you go, even if it was just to pee. Hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek whenever you make breakfast.
His friends still make fun of him for it though. Satoru, that damn bastard. They have a fist fight. He goes to your apartment like a puppy with his ears down, complaining about his bruises and his knuckles hurting just so you can kiss them better.
Yeah, Sukuna is a cuddle bug now. He wouldn't have it any other way.
đđ nanami swore heâd keep things proper with the pretty baker next door. then he realized he couldnât keep his dick soft around you . . .
it started with cookies.
well, no. it started with the new neighbor. tall. blond. built like a man who definitely didnât need help moving boxes but did it anyway, sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly damp from the sun. youâd noticed him when you were watering your herb pots that morning. or more accurately, youâd noticed the little girl running around his front yard first, tiny and loud and dragging a stuffed bunny by one ear. she couldnât have been older than six. and then he stepped out behind her, speaking gently, his voice low and smooth, not a single hair out of place despite the heat.
he didnât smile, wave, or even glance in your direction.
so you knocked on his door with a smile, tupperware clutched in both hands, wearing a âworldâs okayest bakerâ hoodie and a pair of fuzzy slippers because you didnât expect to be judged for trying to be kind.
but he judged you anyway.
âhi,â you offered brightly when he answered, barely cracking the door open. âi live next door. thought iâd bring you guys something sweet.â
he looked at the cookies. then at you.
âthank you,â he said, polite but flat. âbut we donât eat much sugar.â
you blinked. âoh. well, your daughter might likeââ
âi donât let her eat things from strangers.â
you stood there for a beat too long.
then smiled again, tighter. âright. sure. yeah. that makes sense. wouldnât want her to get.. poisoned or whatever.â
he nodded once and shut the door gently. you turned on your heel and stomped back to your kitchen, muttering under your breath.
âoh, we donât eat sugar,â you mocked as you shoved a cookie in your mouth. âwe donât take things from strangers.â you opened your fridge too hard and a carton of eggs wobbled. âmaybe your daughter would cry less if she had a goddamn chocolate chip for once.â
you werenât mad. not really. just a little annoyed. okay, maybe salty, but only because the man had the audacity to look good and act like you were the problem. you tried to shrug it off.
except you kept seeing him. because well, he was your neighbor.
and worse: he was hot.
it was annoying.
he wore button-ups like they were tailored just for him. rolled his sleeves up when he mowed the lawn, muscles taut. when he jogged, his hair slicked back and his jaw clenched. you pretended not to look. he definitely didnât look at you.
until he did.
the first time he offered to carry your groceries, you almost dropped them. he appeared out of nowhere, halfway down the steps of his porch, watching you struggle with two bags of flour and a carton of eggs. you hesitated, still a little wounded by cookiegate, but handed them over.
âsure. thanks.â
he still didnât crack a smile. but he didnât look annoyed either.
you told him your name as he followed you inside. he set the bags down on your counter and repeated it under his breath. it sounded good coming from him. stupidly good.
âiâm nanami kento.â
figures. of course his name was handsome..
he left after that, as quietly as he came. you stood in your kitchen, staring at the counter like an idiot.
you didnât know it yet, but he was hard the entire time.
he hadnât expected you to be barefoot on the tile, your shirt slipping lazily off one shoulder, and those tiny shorts clinging to your thighs as you bent slightly to open the fridge. the smell of cinnamon and sugar made his mouth water, but for something that wasnât food.
he thought about you that night in the shower. tried not to, but he did. came faster than he meant to, head tilted back, biting down curses that sounded too much like your name. tried not to imagine the way your mouth wouldâve looked around himâ your tongue, your pretty little sounds. failed.
he told himself it would pass. it never did.
it only got worse.
he learned the hard way that he couldnât keep his dick soft around you.
he was already halfway hard one morning when he walked out to grab the paper and saw you leaning out your window to shake a towel loose. your tank top barely covering anything as you waved at him, smiling. he waved back stiffly and went inside to jerk off with a disgusted sigh.
you were ruining him.
and you had no idea.
because you just kept showing upâ dropping off extra banana bread, greeting his daughter with that soft, sweet smile, complimenting his tie one morning while licking strawberry jam off your fingers. you werenât doing it on purpose, or maybe you were.
either way, it was a losing game.
âyou always look at peopleâs hands like that?â he asked one day after heâd caught you staring longer than you shouldâve.
âno,â you answered, wide-eyed. âthey just.. stood out.â
he doesnât even know what you meant by that. only that he had to excuse himself a minute later because he couldnât walk around half-hard in his slacks with you standing five feet away in an apron and smirking.
he jerked off again that night. came so hard he almost blacked out, your name spilling from his lips between gasps. the guilt didnât sink in until after.
and yetâ he started opening the door more.
started waving first. started standing a little closer. you noticed, of course. and when you invited him to dinner one night after offering to bring over leftovers, he didnât say no.
his daughter had already gone to sleep when he let you inside. you handed him a plastic container of curry with a sheepish grin. âi made too much.â
âso youâre a baker and a chef?â
âchef is generous,â you laughed. âi burn pasta all the time. but i can make you a mean sourdough!â
he didnât laugh. but his mouth twitched. you considered that a win.
you stayed for dinner. then for the movie playing in his living room. it was quiet. just the two of you on the couch, the tv humming in the background, your head resting lazily against the cushion.
âkento,â you said after a while, voice soft, âwhy donât you ever smile?â
he shrugged. âi do.â
ânot around me.â
âiâm smiling now.â
âyouâre not.â
âthen maybe you should fix that.â he murmured.
your cheeks warmed. the room suddenly felt smaller. you shifted, knees brushing his. your hand landed on his thigh without thinking.
âyou make it hard to behave.â
you looked up. âwhat?â
his eyes dropped to your mouth, then your chest. his jaw flexed.
âyou know what youâre doing. all those looks. the touches. the cookies.â
âi was just being friendly.â
âyou stare at my hands like you want them between your thighs.â
your breath hitched. he was still calm. still steady. but his voice was rough now, barely under control.
âyou make me hard every damn day. i canât sleep. i canât think. all i see is you, walking around like you donât even know what youâre doing to me.â
his hand slid under your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
âi want to make you mine. make you my wife. but firstââ his voice dropped lower, eyes blazing, ââi need to see you fall apart.â
he kissed you. slow and deep, tongue teasing the corner of your mouth before claiming you fully. you moaned into it, fingers clawing at his shirt. he lifted you with ease, carried you down the hall, laid you on his bed like heâd fantasized about for weeks.
your clothes were gone in minutes. his followed.
his cock was thick, heavy, flushed dark and drooling against your stomach as he pressed in close, the heat of it made your whole body twitch, lashes fluttering up as he stared down at you.
âopen your legs,â he said, voice dark. âlet me see you.â
you obeyed without question, hips tilting. he groaned when he saw the mess between your folds, wet and sticky and so fucking needy.
âsuch a pretty girl,â he murmured, dragging his fingers through the slick that coats your pussy. âall this sweetness, and you give it to me.â
his mouth replaced his fingers without warning. tongue working you open slowly, then desperately, devouring your cunt like itâs his sole purpose in life. licking and sucking and spitting, loud and filthy, tongue flicking your clit until your moans go hoarse and your legs clamped around his shoulders, body arching into every suck.
two fingers stretched you open suddenly, thick and deep, curling hard against your walls. your fingers thread into his blond strands, tugging harshly.
âkento- f-fuck, ooh!â
âthatâs it. give it to me, sweetheart.â
he doesnât stop until your pussyâs soaked and twitching, clenching around nothing, dripping down your thighs and begging for more.
âneed your cock,â you gasped. âpleaseââ
he stood, dragging his hand over his cock, thumb swiping precum from the tip just to smear it down the shaft.
âoh, i know. youâve been teasing me for weeks, havenât you?â
he pressed the swollen head to your entrance, then paused.
âlook at me.â
your eyes met his, wide and already glassy.
âiâll take care of you.â
then he pushed in.
you cried out as he filled you inch by inch. he was big. way too big. your cunt struggled to take him, squeezing helplessly. he groaned above you, teeth gritted.
âfuck,â he hissed. âyouâre so tight. so wet. you were made for this.â
your moans were nonstop when he starts to move. long, hard thrusts that leave you gasping. your legs wrapped tight around his waist, keeping him trapped. each drag of his cock hits delicously, you felt so full. stuffed so perfectly you could barely breathe.
âyou want to be mine?â he whispered.
âyes- yesâ!â
âyou want this cock every night?â
âplease- kento, iâ!â
âthen say it. say you want to be my wife.â
âi do. i want to be yours, i want it all.â
he fucks you harder than before after that. your thighs were shaking uncontrollably. he grabs one, bends your knee back, forces you open so wide he gets the perfect view of the creamy mess building up on his cock with every stroke.
âgonna fill you up,â he growled. âyouâll take it, wonât you?â
you nod. whimpering, walls fluttering. your cunt clenching so tight he curses, slamming in deep and staying there.
âyouâll look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you.â
he groaned into your neck as he empties inside, warm seed flooding your hole. you trembled beneath him, overstimulated and soaking. his chest presses to yours as he kiss your forehead softly, breath still ragged.
âmine.â
this is an old draft of mines and i rlly liked this concept n thought nanami was perfect for it :D i wanna start posting more for other characters soon so lmk who i should do in the future <3
