Ah, can you write about puppyboy Ren (14DWY) x reader? Like him just,,, begging for attention? (Also, do you like/know tkatb? Wondering because you like 14DWY)
₊˚.༄ of course I can write about Ren! he's one of the bestest boys ever, and i've been meaning to write some stuff about him >:)!! I also do like tkatb, although I wish it was more fleshed out/longer. but honestly, i like any sort of vn/fiction where there's hot anime guys obsessing over the mc/player/reader. like, sign me UP. i am SAT!!!! maybe i should write some sol x reader? ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ anyways, sorry it took me a lil while to answer, been busy with work and all that! i also wasn't sure if this should be fluff or smut, but knowing me i had to write it as nasty as possible LMAO. enjoy and lmk what you think of puppyboy ren!!
You’ve been working at the library more often than usual these past few weeks. Some of your coworkers have been slacking, and others have seemingly quit on the spot and never came back. They must have moved away too, you gather.
Regardless of their whereabouts, you’ve had to pick up extra shifts, alone, at the library until your boss can hire new replacements.
It’s a routine you’re used to now, waking up early to the smell of breakfast sizzling. It’s a routine Ren notices about you, like clockwork. You sleep in an extra ten minutes, yawn as you shuffle your way past the doorframe and into the kitchen, and plop your body down at the table.
Every morning, he wakes up early to make you breakfast, he helps pick your outfit, he involves himself in every part of your routine up until the very moment you have to leave. And even then, he is clinging onto the hem of your shirt, eyes full of tears as he pouts and begs you to stay home. He never wants you to leave. You should stay home, forever. Why do you have to leave him?
And every morning, your kind voice sings the same tune: “They need help, and I feel bad. Be a good boy while I’m gone, okay?” You praise him, ruffling his hair and petting him.
Today, he will be a good boy. He will make sure of it.
While gone, he cleans your apartment for what feels like the 10th time today. Cleaning gives him a sense of peace, of order, which he desperately needs when you’re gone. He needs something to preoccupy his mind, and if that’s cleaning, doing laundry, or whatever else, he will make sure it’s done. Plus, if he does everything for you, then you can spend even more time with him. It’s simple math, really.
After a while, Ren’s boredom is at an all-time high, and he starts smelling and touching everything you own, marking it as his own, a warning sign to all that he’s there, always.
He digs through your laundry basket, expertly locating your most recently used clothing. This is his routine, of course, he’s practically streamlined and optimized the best method for finding the best smelling clothing instantly. His heart races every time, knowing he shouldn’t do this. But he can’t help it, you smell too irresistible. And he’s bored, he needs a reminder of you somehow.
It starts with your pajamas, he thinks you smell the sweetest when you sleep. Maybe it’s your skincare routine, or maybe it’s just knowing you’re sleeping peacefully and innocently that just makes you smell better. Who cares, as long as he can sniff it. And of course, his favorite of all time, your panties.
All Ren can hear is the resounding pulse of his heartbeat, like a cacophony of blood rushing everywhere. As he pulls the garment to his face, he draws in the deepest breath possible. He doesn’t dare exhale: instead he holds it in until his head feels fuzzy and his vision goes blurry. Like he needs to capture your smell and burn it into his memory.
With tears in his eyes, he breathes out, and lets another gasp fill his lungs. His collar’s name tag jingles as he sinks to the floor, like a cute little Ren puddle making a mess everywhere. When he’s confident he’s smelled everything he can, his hand drops the panties and palms his throbbing erection through his pants. His free hand tugs at his collar, pulling it slightly. Stars fill his vision as he imagines you tugging on the collar instead, dragging him along wherever you please.
He holds his breath as his hands hurry to free his cock and give it some attention. Every movement of his hand, every tug at his cock moves his entire body, jingling his collar and filling the air with a perverted symphony of sounds. Ren breathes out, choking on air as a whimper escapes his lips accompanying the wet squelching of his hand and the clinking of his heart name tag.
His tail wags as his breath hitches in his throat: all he can think about is you praising him, telling him he’s a good boy, and tugging on that damn collar. Something about you pulling on it has him seeing stars as his eyes roll to the back of his head. There are no thoughts going on in there right now, just pure pleasure as his hips take over, fucking into his hand before making a mess all over himself and the floor.
He catches his breath, coming back to his senses as he realizes the mess he made all over himself on the floor. At least cleaning it is something to do while he waits.
After cleaning himself up, Ren decides to hop on his laptop and find out what you’re up to.
You’re in the middle of putting books back on shelves when you hear a ding on your phone. And a few seconds later, another ping. And another. Until you’re being practically flooded with notifications.
Hi :3I miss youI’m bored ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ აWhat are you up to?Will you be home soon? >_<
You smile as you send him a quick reply.
I’m off soon. Be a good boy okay? ♡
You shove your phone in your back pocket and finish putting the last book away. You can feel your cheeks flush and a warm smile spread across your face. He’s just too cute.
―
You’re not even one foot into the door before you’re attacked by a tall, pink-haired puppy. He runs up to you and squeezes you, before bombarding you with his cute voice. “I missed you s’much ohmygodIwasboredtoday!! I was a good boy too I promise!” He exclaims, as if he has to prove it to you. Ren helps you take your jacket off and set your belongings down, leading you into the apartment.
“I’m sure you were the bestest boy ever, Ren,” you say as you scratch the top of his head, petting him in between his puppy ears. He melts at your touch, tail wagging fervently behind him.
“I’m only the best for you, Angel.”
“I need to shower, mkay?” You say, making your way to the bathroom. “You coming?” You don’t need to look to know he’s following you as that familiar chime of his collar tells you he’s following you like the puppy he is.
He sits on the cold tile floor as he watches you step into the shower, closing the glass door behind you. He watches you as the water drips around your naked form; never before in his life has he wanted to be a droplet of water. His gaze follows your every move intently, keen on not missing even a moment of you. He watches as you shampoo your hair and wash your body. And when you’re ready to step out of the shower, he’s handing you a warm, freshly washed and neatly folded towel to dry off with.
You thank him as you step out of the shower. A blush covers Ren’s face as he watches you dry off, and realizes he’s been caught by you.
“Ren, you might as well be a tomato with how red you are,” but that teasing only makes him flush harder, the embarrassment enough for him to break your gaze. You walk past him, fluffing his hair once more. “It’s cute,” you say, as you saunter into your bedroom.
You pick out some comfy clothes as you make your way into the living room, that familiar jingle not too far behind you. You plop yourself onto the couch, lounging about and relaxing before you feel like cooking dinner.
Ren sits beside you, head resting in your lap as he looks right up at you.
“I missed you today while I was working,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. He whines a bit, the soft touch relaxing his very soul. “What did my little pup do while I was gone, hm?” He nuzzles his head into your soft thighs, trying to get as close to you as he can get. The soft plush of your thighs and tummy is enough to get lost in, like his soul finally has an escape.
He rambles on about cleaning and doing other stuff around the house. His mind goes blank and he feels fuzzy as the thought of his other activities crosses his mind. He can’t help but look away as a blush creeps across his pale skin. He attempts to hide his face with his hand, trying hard to not feel embarrassed.
Your perception is spot on as you immediately pick up that he’s hiding something from you. “What’s wrong, Ren? Were you a bad boy today?” You tease him, enough to make him even more flustered.
“N-no! I was a good boy today, I promise!” But his entire body language exposes his lie. His cheeks are red, his gaze is avoiding yours, and his breathing is a bit uneven, as if he’s panting. The irregularity of his breaths are accompanied by the soft clink of his collar. It sounds so cute, so adorable, like you want to hear more.
“Ren~” you start, your voice immediately captivating him. “You know what happens when you’ve been bad, hm?” You ask, looking down at him. His baby blue eyes meet yours once more as he acknowledges your question.
He doesn’t answer, but instead nods his head, looking right at you. His collar chimes again as he shakes; every clink a promise of excitement and desire driven into your head. You have no idea why the sound of a small, heart-shaped piece of metal is enough to make your head spin, but you don’t dare question it.
“Tell me the truth, Ren. What did you do today while I was gone?” You ask, spinning a web with your words so that you can trap him in your desire. You want him to confess, but more importantly than that, you want to see how adorable he gets when he’s so embarrassed.
Ren takes a moment to consider his options. He could keep trying to deny, or he could play along with it. The obvious choice is the most fun, after all.
He takes a second to nestle his face in between your thighs and your tummy, taking in the scent of you and the soft squish of your body. He takes in a big breath, before turning to look up at you with his puppy dog eyes.
“While you were gone… I might have kept m’self a lil busy,” he says, not bothering to look away in shame or embarrassment now.
“And how was that?” you ask in response, scratching his head in between his ears. He lets out a soft whimper before answering you.
“Y’smell good, angel. Like really really good. I might have… used that to my advantage.” A sinister glint of his eye draws you closer, makes you more curious.
You snake a finger in the space between his collar and his neck. “Did you enjoy it, pup?”
You can feel his nervousness return as he takes a big gulp and looks right up at you. You can feel his Adam’s apple bob with movement as a token of his guilt.
But just as quickly as that shame appeared, it is replaced with a deviously sinister smile. “Fuuuuuuuck yes,” he groans, practically moaning as he relives his earlier actions.
You tug on his collar ever so gently, a sign that you want to hear more. Ren’s mind is hazed over as he feels that pressure, the delicious tightness of his collar being tugged by you. It’s almost too much to handle.
Your free hand trails down his body, snaking its way to the hem of his pants. You can feel his excitement, it’s practically begging to be acknowledged. Ren’s voice is all but a whine as your hand touches everywhere but the one place he desperately needs you to feel. It’s torture. Sweet, sweet suffering.
Before you can get anywhere along with touching Ren, his hand grips yours with intense strength. Ren might not look strong, but he has an insane sleeper build, and can easily throw you around if he wanted to, but he would never do that to his Angel.
Ren shuffles his way out of your lap and onto the floor. He parts your legs, perching himself in between them.
“Can I?” He asks, his eyes flicking down your body and resting at your core. “Please?”
You have half a mind to make him beg, to listen to him whine and plead. But you can’t wait any longer.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” you reply. “Such a well trained pup, aren’t you?”
But he never answers, as he pulls your panties to the side and opens your legs, diving right in. He’s gentle, his actions betraying his infuriating desire to just lose himself in you. His touch is delicate, his slender yet rough fingers gripping your thighs like he needs something to hold onto. Like he needs to brace himself. Like he can and will lose himself in you.
He starts with kisses along your thighs and your pelvis, leaving little love marks on the way. Sometimes he sucks a little, hoping he can leave bruises on your soft skin as evidence of him being there. As proof that he is yours, and you are his.
He stops to take a deep breath in, inhaling the scent of your arousal. All the while your heart is pounding in your chest so loudly you’re sure he can hear it and even feel it.
His breath tickles you as he breaks contact. “Smell s’good, Angel. I can’t stop,” he says, taking large gasps of your scent in between words. “Even better in person.” His voice is slightly muffled, like he couldn’t stand to even move far enough to be heard.
Each inhale is like a direct connection to Ren’s cock, like it’s the key to unlocking that part of him. It’s like electrical signals coursing through his nervous system jolting straight to his core, arousing him more than he thought possible.
“Enjoying yourself, pup?” You ask, weaving your fingers into his soft, fluffy pink hair.
His ears perk up at his nickname, and he hums an affirmation, not bothering to answer you fully. When he’s confident he’s smelled everything possible, and that your scent has been burned into his memory, he darts his tongue out.
All of this buildup has left you insanely wet, a squirming mess beneath him. The instant his tongue searches for your clit, a jolt shocks you through your entire body. Your breath catches, and your grip tightens on his hair.
He watches you with baby blue eyes from his spot between your legs, taking in every reaction you have. Every flick of his tongue is like fire spreading through your body, and you can’t help but let moans and curses escape from your pretty lips with every movement. It’s like he knows exactly which spot to press, how hard to flick his tongue, and how to toy with you until before you realize it, you’re fast-approaching that familiar little death.
The momentum of his licks pulls you apart, threatening to unravel you seam by seam in mere seconds. Your legs instinctively try to tighten as you feel yourself being pushed over that edge, but Ren doesn’t let you. Instead, he forces your legs open and pulls away, the only remnant of his deviance a string of spit connecting his mouth to your sopping cunt.
The sight enough would be enough to push you over, had you not been rudely interrupted and edged. Ren smirks at you, taking in your figure writhing beneath him. “You’re doing so well, Angel~” he praises you, your cunt fluttering around nothing at his words. He wastes no time in diving back in, ready to give you the finale you crave so dearly.
His tongue grazes over your throbbing clit, toying with you with gentle licks. He builds up, increasing his speed and pressure until all that echoes in these walls is the wet sound of your pussy being devoured. Your grip on his hair tightens, tugging it oh so perfectly. Ren whimpers into your cunt, not letting the distraction stop him from pleasuring you.
“Fuck, puppy! Gonna cum soon!!” You say, feeling your head fog over with pleasure. Ren watches as you approach that edge and get swiftly kicked off of it. Normally, he would stop once you started cumming, but not this time. Instead, his tongue fervently licks you, riding your orgasm with you and not giving you any breaks.
It feels like your world has shattered into a million fragments, as you ride wave after wave of ecstasy, each one building off of the last. Your body jolts and shakes beneath his grip, while the air is sucked straight out of your lungs. Your vision is black at the edges— you feel you might pass out just from the pleasure and intensity of it all.
And just when you thought your body couldn’t take anymore, that the onslaught might actually be the death of you, he pulls away. His chin and jaw is slick with your juices, dripping down onto the ground below. He pays no mind, instead scooping some of it up with his thumb and licking it clean, all while staring straight into your soul. He’s watching your every move, like you’re a specimen that needs to be studied by him, and him alone.
As you catch your breath, you notice yourself being lifted off of the couch and into your room. Before you can say anything, you’re gently pushed onto the plush mattress of your bed. Ren’s voice pierces through your hazy thoughts like a beacon of light in a storm. “Please, Angel, let me make you feel good.”
You give him a slight nod, too fucked out with too little energy to form any coherent response right now. You can hear the rustling of Ren’s pants as he practically rips them off. Within seconds, he is on top of you, pushing your legs apart and pressing you into the mattress.
He lines himself up with your entrance, before gently pushing it in. Ren is the type to always make sure you’re comfortable. He’s not one to prioritize his needs, and he wants you to feel good every step of the way. This time is no different, as one of his hands searches for yours ago intertwine his fingers. He holds your hand as he pushes into you, slowly, moaning at every slight movement.
The way you stretch around him and clench him is addicting. Ren cannot and will not get used to this feeling, ever. Each time is more special than the last, each moment you spend connected together a promise to each other.
“You’re doing so well, taking me in,” he groans, his voice low and seductive. His praise sends shivers down your spine and causes you to involuntarily clench around him tighter. He whimpers in response, the sudden change in tightness pushing him farther and farther along that path.
Before he can stop himself, his hips start moving of their own accord, chasing the high they so desperately seek. He fucks into you with slow, deliberate strokes, pulling almost all of the way out before shoving his cock back in. Each thrust fills you even fuller than the last, like he’s inside your entire your body. His pace picks up, until he’s furiously slamming his cock deep into your sloppy cunt, searching for all the pleasure you can give to him. “Fuck, baby, it’s like we’re made for each other. You’re so tight.”
His free hand snakes down your body, searching for your sensitive clit. Your eyes roll back as he finds the sensitive nub, stroking it with his long, slender fingers. “You’re so cute like this, y’know? When you’re so fucked out y’can’t even talk.” At this point, you’re not even sure of the words coming out of his mouth as all you can feel is the intense pleasure of his fingers. The only thing on your mind is your body barreling headfirst towards your impending orgasm, like it’s a sprint.
Ren fucks into you with deliberation, with a purpose. His collar jingles in tandem with every thrust, an accessory to the depravity and lewdity of your bodies. The sound is so erotic, hearing even more evidence of his cock buried deep inside of you.
Your hand reaches to caress his cheek, before resting around his throat. You tug at the collar, and Ren practically unfolds beneath you. “Fuuuuuck yes, Angel,” he responds, egging you on. You pull, harder, enough to make him collapse on top of you. His cock pistons into you erratically, as if it’s a signal of his impending destruction.
Ren’s whimpers come out needy, like he’s whining and begging to feel good. He leaves little marks along your neck, satisfied that they will be on display for all to see. His finger circles your clit as you feel your body tighten, like a knot being pulled taut. Your breath catches in your throat before your entire body releases its tension, like an explosive rupture of passion and pleasure.
Your cunt flutters and tightens around Ren’s cock, and the extra stimulation (and seeing you unravel beneath him) is more than enough to send him spiraling. His hips buck against yours, before he buries his cock as deep as it will go. Ren pants, trying to catch his breath as he stuffs you so full of his cum you might be full for days.
Still inside, he caresses your cheeks and kisses you all over. He swiftly pulls out, gives you a final kiss on your forehead, and gets up off of the bed in search of something to clean you with.
He comes back to find you full dressed again. You smile as your eyes meet. “Why let it go to waste?”
Ren’s heart skips a beat, a blush consuming his pale features. “A-are you sure?” he asks.
“Of course I’m sure. I know how much my good boy loves it~”
the writing writer returns
idk what i'm doing over here folks *smokes*
water your redacted plant this summer it's hot outside
💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤
"Are you sure you don't mind working like this?"
"Yeah? It's not a problem."
"Because, again, if you'd like to take the day off, I'd understand perfectly well."
You shake your head in response. "It'll be fine, I swear." As you stoop down to place a book on the lowest shelf, [REDACTED] quietly follows suit at your side. "They haven't been bothering anyone." Except for you.
"Alright," Conan sighs, and you swear you can hear several car crashes happening in his head, but he walks away without another word. With your boss (unsuccessfully) persuaded for the third time, you continue shelving and run your fingers over the spines of books in the stack your partner is carrying.
You muse to yourself, "Most of these are in the sci-fi section." It was one of the few sections that were moved around every once in a while, so you took the time to think, tapping your fingers. "Should be on the south wall. Follow me."
[REDACTED] carefully stands up in sync with you. The stack they hold doesn't move, but the metal cuff on their wrist jingles.
"Lead the way, love," he says. As if he has a choice, not that he'd ever want one.
Accidentally stealing handcuffs from Teo's party last night was kind of funny. Handcuffing yourself to your favorite emo during breakfast was just as funny, for all of fourteen seconds. But then you remembered you had work. And then you remembered that you never took the key.
And then, of course, when you suggested the obvious idea of cutting them off, suddenly [REDACTED] had morals against property damage.
Turns out a life of crime was not for you.
"You're enjoying this too much," you mutter as you walk through the aisles. Stubbornly, you refuse to admit to also enjoying this. Because then he wins.
The matching cuff on your wrist hardly feels uncomfortable thanks to your partner's willingness to stay as close as physically possible. All that signals its presence is the telltale faint metal clinking of the chain connecting you. And the occasional stares and giggles of whoever happened to notice. Mostly Elanor, who took to spying around corners and hiding her smile behind the monitors at the front desk.
"How could I not?" they practically brag. "'Stead of stayin' home, you wanted t'show off that I'm all yours."
That wasn't what you had in mind at all and he knew it. "You are so…" You huff and sort through the pile, ignoring the grin on his face. "Unbelievable."
"It's like we're already married," they tease as the chain jingles again. "Our wedding bells."
You reach up to lightly thump a cover against his forehead. "Once Teo comes back with the key you're getting chained to the break room table 'til my shift's over. Not in the fun way."
He dramatically sighs as you finally shelve the last of the books. "If y'say so. 'N here I was lookin' forward to it."
From the moment the lock on the cuffs clicked in place, their pale blue eyes were locked on you just the same. It was easy to guess how he imagined the day would go.
Somehow, you thought forcing him to play nice at your job would keep his head out of the clouds for a while. If anything, it was rocketing his ego straight past the clouds and into space. The few patrons that noticed kept their distance, and the ones oblivious enough to approach quickly left thanks to his confusing aura of smugness.
"Hmm. I could forget the key again when we get home."
"Promise, Angel?"
You hold back a laugh and grab his cuffed hand in yours, leading them over to the book return bin. "If I don't get fired for causing a scene, sure."
"Seashell! Where are youuu?" Jae suddenly shouts from the sliding doors. A chorus of various shhs rounds through the stacks, and he hurries over to you with a sheepish grin, almost panting from the effort. "Here's that key you needed. Hey, Ren!"
For once, [REDACTED] acknowledges him with a nod. Who knew handcuffs could make them act moderately decent, if not polite?
"Thanks?" you question as Jae drops the silver key into your outstretched hand. "What happened to Teo?"
Jae shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. "Who knows? He caught me just before I went surfing and offered 500 dollars to bring this to you ASAP. Said you can keep it."
You vividly remember Teo coming by earlier after you texted him, ready to laugh at your circumstances. It hadn't gone so well on his end, what with your partner's unshakeable confidence over the situation. "Oh. Of course he did."
"Anyways, I've got some money to waste. Later, seashell! You too, Ren!" Jae waves over his shoulder and leaves just as quickly as he came, a trail of sandy footprints in his wake.
"Well uh… guess you can go home now?" you offer and look back at [REDACTED]. "Oh come on. It's only three hours."
His eyes lose that playful sparkle as you undo the cuffs and put them in your pocket along with the key. "Three hours unsupervised and without a leash. That's very irresponsible, love."
You wander off towards the staff area. "Shush."
Even without the handcuffs, they're immediately trailing mere inches behind you. You attempt to sneak past the story time circle where Elanor's sitting with a few kids from the nearby school. You're hoping she doesn't notice, but the sound of a gleeful smile starts ringing in her voice as she reads softly.
The staff door creaks open to an empty, darkened room. Conan must've disappeared into his office, no doubt questioning why he lets you keep your job. The hacker's footsteps and yours tap along the floor as you approach the supply closet.
You pause halfway into the room and turn around to whisper, "I thought I said you could go home."
"You also said you'd chain me up back here."
"Not in the fun way," you immediately correct.
"Not in the fun way," [REDACTED] repeats with a nod. They patiently hold up their wrist for you.
Sighing to yourself, you have to decline. "I think I'd actually get fired if I did that. So… if you leave now, you may handcuff me on our walk home." While you fish the offending items from your pocket, you have to clarify, "As long as no one else sees us."
He happily takes them, swinging the cuffs back and forth on his finger. "Oh, then what happens once we're home?"
♡ synopsis: asking your sweet bf choso to wear a mask, chase you through the woods, and fuck you like a crazed animal.
☆ starring: bf!choso x afab!reader
✧ content: MDNI !!! established relationship, gentle bf, reader that wants to be roughened up a bit, consent and safeword talk, some insecurity/nerves, healthy relationship discussions, mask, Choso goes a bit feral, dirty talk, spanking, biting, oral (f receiving), doggy style. Word count: 7.9k
𓃺 bunny's notes: 3 is my favorite number so for my third published writing of course i had to combine my two favorite things - choso and mask kinks. this is also my biggest fantasy lowk so i wanted to live vicariously through it. sorry if the beginning part drags on too much but I felt like it was realistic to cho's personality in this and i just wanted to depict some health communication (:
Your boyfriend Choso was so, so sweet. There’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for you. He would carve his own heart right out of his chest and place it at your feet if you asked him to.
He was hooked on you from the moment he first saw your pretty smile. The unfamiliar emotions swirling up in his chest confused him, but he knew right away that he’d lay down his life to keep that smile on your face.
Since then, he’s learned to name all of his emotions and now insists on reminding you that he loves you at least five times bare minimum every hour. He really is the sweetest man in the world.
It’s in his nature to be gentle with you. He couldn’t imagine anything else. He would rather die than hurt you in any way. Once you accidentally tripped over his foot while the two of you were walking together. You barely stumbled. You didn’t even fall because Choso was holding your hand. It was your own damn fault!
He cried anyways.
He then showed up at your door the next day with his arms full of flowers, a teddy bear, and your favorite snacks. Plus a card containing a two-page, handwritten note apologizing for putting his foot in your way.
It was safe to say that Choso despised even the possibility of you being in any type of pain or danger.
You really, truly loved him and adored the way he treated you but…
Sometimes you wanted him to be a bit rougher with you. Maybe even hurt you a little.
Only during sex, of course.
Don’t get anything twisted, Choso more than pleasured you. He may be gentle in bed, but he was skilled and attentive. And his dick was huge and curved so perfectly, always hitting that perfect spot-
Anyways.
Let’s just say that you cum every single time. Hard and more than once.
You’re not unsatisfied or anything, per say. You’d just like to know what it would be like for him to manhandle you and toss you around, maybe even mark you up a little bit.
You’ve always had one particular fantasy that you’d love to indulge in, but it’s so laughably outside of Choso’s typical comfort zone that you never even bothered to mention it to him.
You were honestly planning on taking that little fantasy of yours to the grave, but last week the two of you went to a get together thrown by one of his friends. The entire group was there and everyone decided to play Never Have I Ever.
As is typical for your friends, it turned sexual fast. The game morphed into swapping stories and bragging about past escapades. But what really stood out to you is one story that was shared by one of the most reserved friends in the group - Nanami. He talked about how he recently fucked his wife over a table while she was wearing a skimpy maid costume.
It caught everyone off guard, especially you. It may not have been the most wild sex story out there, but none of you expected Nanami to get down like that to be honest.
But it also got you thinking. Although they’re not identical, Choso and Nanami have a few things in common. Like the fact that they both tend to be more kind and shy than most men you’ve ever met. So if a guy like Nanami can do and enjoy something like that, then maybe your sweet, gentle man can also be persuaded into trying something new.
It just so happened to work out perfectly that your 3 year anniversary was coming up, it was October, and your dearest boyfriend had reserved a trip to a romantic, secluded cabin.
⋆⋆⋆
If you could kiss your past self somehow, you would. She was a genius for mentioning to Choso how you’d been so overwhelmed lately with life. Just the constant noise and expectations. That’s what led him to choosing to do something different for this anniversary in the first place.
He booked a cute, little wood cabin with a wraparound deck. One side of the house backed up to a softly bubbling creek. The closest neighbor was three miles down a dirt road. The rest of the property was completely surrounded by forest.
It was perfect.
The plan was to spend all weekend walking the trails, soaking in the hot tub on the deck, and being cuddled up in bed. At least, that was the plan according to him.
You may have had a plan of your own.
And you may have slipped something into your suitcase when Choso wasn’t looking.
You had to be sneaky because, of course, he packed your bag so you didn’t have to do it. He really was the best boyfriend.
You didn’t have to lift a finger for this trip. It was like that for all of your dates and vacations in the past as well. Everything was all planned, paid for, and executed by Choso.
He had brought groceries to make all of your favorite meals so neither of you would have to leave the cabin once you arrived. (Naturally, he’s an amazing cook.) He locked both of your phones in the car because you wanted to actually disconnect and get away from everything. (He was never one of the men distracted by and glued to his phone when you were together anyways.) He even surprised you by buying some of the books off your TBR list! (So you couldn’t possibly get bored this weekend. As if you would get bored being stuck in a remote cabin with your ridiculously sexy boyfriend all to yourself.)
Choso had thought of literally everything.
Which is why he didn't understand why you’ve been sitting stiffly on the opposite end of the couch since the two of you got there nearly 45 minutes ago. You weren’t saying anything. You actually haven’t said more than five words since his car turned into the driveway. You wouldn’t even look in his direction.
It was unnervingly quiet. It didn’t help that you were basically in the middle of nowhere.The only sounds were a faint tinkling from the wind chimes hanging over the deck as they swayed in the night air.
It was the type of quiet where even a shift in your breathing sounded loud to Choso. His eyes kept flicking towards you, observing. He’s trying to figure out why the hell you’re acting like a complete weirdo. You were being totally normal the entire three hour drive up there.
Truthfully, you’re just nervous and trying to figure out a way to ask him what you’ve been wanting to do.
You thought you had also planned for everything.
And you did. Except for what you were going to say.
You didn’t even think about that part until you started pulling up to the cabin. All of a sudden your own idea started to sound stupid in your head.
He’s never even spanked you before. How in the world are you going to ask him this??
You were so lost in your own head trying to figure out what to say that you couldn’t even feel Choso’s eyes as he analyzed you.
Oh my god, this was a horrible idea-
Is he even going to find this sexy or will I terrify him-
What if he says no-
You've been judged in the past by an ex for the things you wanted to do in bed. Logically, you know Choso would never shame you for anything, regardless of what you said to him. In fact, you’re pretty sure he would rather publicly humiliate himself before he privately embarrassed you.
That’s just how he is.
But you can’t pretend that those past experiences didn’t make you a bit more insecure when it comes to opening up about your kinkier side. And since Choso is already such a gentle partner, it just makes that vulnerability of being totally honest feel a bit scarier to you.
But you love Choso more than anything. You trust him more than you’ve ever trusted anyone.
…And despite being a bit of a timid wreck right now you’re still soaking your panties at the thought of your plan working out.
Your mind is still swirling with anxious thoughts until his soft voice finally interrupts you-
“...You’ve been thinking about something.”
“Me? Thinking? Hah- no-”
Okay, your nervous rambling immediately sets him on edge.
His body is already tense, tears swelling up in the corners of his eyes. “Is it something I did?” he asks quickly. “Do you not like it? I can-”
You’re aggressively shaking your head and moving over to sit next to him right away, grabbing his chin so you’re looking directly at him for the first time since you got there.
“Cho- no. I love the cabin. It’s not you, you’re perfect. I promise it’s nothing bad.” you reassure him lovingly.
A short pause.
“I just wanted to ask you to do something for me and got a little freaked out trying to figure out how.”
He relaxes a little, but not fully. His hands are still fidgeting in his lap like he doesn’t know what to do with them. It’s not like you to not just directly come out with things. You know he’d never deny you anything.
He was going to beat himself up inside for somehow making you afraid to ask him a question. He already feels like he could cry for hours and needs to beg for your forgiveness.
But his guilt is overridden by his need to please you and know what you could possibly want to ask him so badly
“Okay… What is it?”
You hesitate just enough to start to make him feel like you may have lied before and it is actually something bad.
“It’s- It’s kind of oddly specific” your voice squeaks out.
“Specific how?” he asks carefully.
You hesitate again and take a moment to just look at him. You can read Choso like a book. His expressions are always so open and so earnest.
You can tell you’re starting to scare him which is why your mouth is firing off the words like a machine gun so quickly your brain can’t catch up. “I want you to chase me.”
Silence.
Confused silence.
Then-
“Like tag?”
You smack a hand to your forehead with a groan as you drop forward. You should’ve known that this was probably going to take some in-depth explaining to get Choso to understand.
At least that made a significant chunk of your nerves dissipate. You may have laughed if your boyfriend wasn’t already getting emotional because of your prior weirdness. You didn’t want him to actually cry because you’re laughing at him.
“No, we are not playing tag! There are some similarities, yes. We will both be running. I’ll start running first and you’ll chase me.”
“...Chase you.” he repeats slowly.
His brows knit together, not in disapproval - just trying to fully understand, to picture it in his head.
“...Like fast running?”
You huff out a quiet laugh, “Yes, fast running.”
“In the woods?” he asks immediately, glancing out the window toward the dark treeline. He was always quick to catch onto things.
“Yes, in the woods.”
“At night?” His tone was incredulous.
“Choso-”
“I’m not saying no yet!” he says quickly, a bit flustered. “Just trying to make sure I fully understand.”
Honestly, Choso isn’t sure how he feels yet. Or how to respond.
The two of you just sit in the quiet for another moment.
“There are roots out there.” he says finally.
You blink once at him. “What?”
“On the ground” he clarifies, like they could be anywhere else. “You could trip.”
Now, he’s the one whose mind is racing. There’s so many dangers out there. So many ways you could get hurt.
“I’ll be careful.”
“It’s dark outside,” he replies immediately. “What if you can’t see and run into a tree? You could get a concussion or a TBI. Or what if you run into the creek? You could drown!”
You bite back a smile.
“It’s a full moon tomorrow, there’s more than enough light for me to see. We won’t go far from the cabin. The creek was also not even a foot deep. I can just stand up.”
But there’s no stopping him now. He starts rambling on so quickly that you can’t get a single other word in.
“There may be bears. I don’t remember the bear rhyme! What do we do if it's a white bear?’
Those are called Polar Bears and the only ones anywhere remotely close to you live at the zoo.
“You never want to run. You avoid it at all costs. What if you break your ankle or tear a muscle or something?”
Okay, ouch but valid concern. You weren’t completely out of shape or anything. Cardio just isn’t your favorite.
“If you screamed, no one would be able to hear you.”
You know it wasn’t intentional on his part to be sexy, but your pussy throbs at those words anyways.
“It’s isolated. There’s no one else out here to help if something happens.”
He finally pauses long enough to try to catch his breath that you’re able to respond
“...That’s kind of the point, Cho. Do you want someone else to see me naked?”
“Naked?! We’re running through sharp, pointy tree branches totally nake-”
You slap your hand over his mouth before he can go on any further.
“Okay, you’re going to just listen for a second. You’re going to give me a 30 second head start and then chase me through those woods. I’ll stay on the marked trails. I will run and try to get away from you, but still be cautious and watch where I’m stepping as I go. And when you inevitably catch me, you are going to wrestle me down to the ground and fuck me. Hard and fast. No more holding back and being soft. Is that clear enough for you?”
Choso’s previous concerns are still very much present, but he can’t lie and say his dick isn’t starting to perk up inside his pants. He just isn’t sure whether it's due to your words, your tone, or your request.
Probably a combination of all three.
He nods in agreement, so you release your hold over his mouth.
“...So, what do you think?” you ask, your body tensing up as you get a bit nervous again of what he might say now that you’ve exposed what you really wanted.
He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. Truthfully, now that he fully understands, the idea is kind of… intriguing him. He just isn’t sure why yet.
Your boyfriend is still very much worried over the possibility of you getting hurt, but more than anything he always wants to make you happy. To keep that pretty smile on your face. And it’s clear to him that you’ve thought deeply about this. It must be something you really wanted.
Plus, anything that results in him getting to be inside you sounds pretty good to him.
He isn’t fully enthusiastic about it yet. There’s a few details that would need to be figured out first to keep you safe. He’s also not sure how to be less soft for you. Or if he even can do that.
But he was willing to try anything for you.
“We’d need a way to stop it at least. Right away. In case you get hurt or scared.” he finally says.
You can’t help but soften. He’s just worried about you being safe during this. You can hardly believe he’s really considering this and taking it seriously.
But also, when has he ever told you no before?
“Of course. That’s called a safeword, baby. You can use it too in case it becomes too much for you. If either of says… hmm- if either of us says the word… ukelele everything stops immediately.”
Okay, your safeword could use some work but you didn’t fully expect him to agree to this and surely you won’t accidentally say ukelele in a sentence.
Choso just nods, committing the word to memory.
“And you said you want me to- want me to f-fuck you harder and faster…”
You nod and smile at him so sweetly. It was such a contrast to your next words.
“Yes, Cho. When you catch me, you can do anything you want with me. I know it’s something new for us, but honestly I’ve always imagined you being a little rougher with me.”
“A-anything I want? Rougher?”
“Yes, anything… but if you need some ideas, I’d like to try spanking, hair pulling, maybe you can call me some mean names.”
His stomach feels like it’s about to drop out of his ass and down through the floor. He’s trying his hardest to be fully open-minded, but he’s white knuckling the edge of the couch cushion with both hands trying to imagine himself being mean to you.
He knows you’re asking for it, but what if you regret it after? What if he says or does something to make you look at him differently?
You can see his body tensing up again and hear his breath speed up, so you rush to reassure him before his mind goes back into overdrive. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, Cho. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure and wasn’t ready. I trust you more than anything in this world to keep me safe and make me feel good in a way you never have before, which is why I feel comfortable enough to want to share this with you. This won’t change anything about us, except maybe opening up new things for us to explore together.”
You’ve always been able to read his mind like a book somehow.
He knows it’ll still be a bit uncomfortable for him at first and he may not be great at it, but he really does want to fulfill all your heart’s wishes. And he does like the thought of you experiencing something with him that you’ve never experienced with any other man before.
There was still one tiny thing bothering him and gnawing at his chest that he had to make sure of though.
“Do you not like what I usually do? Is it not good enough?”
Your heart nearly breaks at his words. You didn’t predict that he may feel insecure about something like that truthfully.
“Cho, baby. I love having sex with you. You always make me feel so good and so special. If you say that you don’t want to do this, we can forget the idea, go upstairs, and you can make love to me in bed all night like you always do. That will always be more than enough for me.”
He doesn’t doubt what you’re saying at all. He can hear the honesty in your voice and see it on your face. If anything, he’s proud of you for being willing to talk so candidly about this with him.
You’re the perfect woman. He’d really do anything for you.
Which is why he’s 99% sure he’s going to do this.
You’re watching the way he’s trying to settle, trying to prepare.
You basically have him. You might as well add in the teeny, tiny, little detail you left out.
“There is just one more small thing though.”
Choso freezes and looks at you warily. He had just wrapped his head around everything else.
“I want you to wear something”
“...Wear what?”
You respond promptly this time, wanting it all out on the table. “A mask.”
His first instinct is immediate.
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it-”
“I did” he cuts in, his voice squeaking a bit. “Very quickly.”
“That adds an entirely new risk I haven’t thought of.” he blathers on before you can respond, already on the edge of spiraling again. “Altered breathing, restricted vision- if I can’t see you properly while you’re running and you-”
“You’ll be able to see and breathe!” you interrupt him loudly to shut him up.
He stops.
“...Oh”
“It’s not a blindfold. Just- a mask. Like a basic white mask from the Halloween store. It has holes to see and breathe through. All it will change is that your face is covered so I can’t see it.”
Oh.
That… changes things for him.
Not completely. But enough.
Enough that his cock is rock hard now at the thought.
He just wants to make sure of one last thing first though. “It’s not because it’ll look less like me?”
You shake your head as you reach to caress his cheek with your hand.
“Of course not, my sweet boy. I love seeing your face at all times. It’s just exciting to me. It makes it feel different.”
He knows what you mean. It does make it feel different.
Now, he’s able to picture it. Not just you running. Not just him chasing you. But the mask. The distance it creates.
The way it would separate him- just enough- from himself. He didn’t have to worry about frightening you or being too rough. He wouldn’t be the one chasing you, he wouldn’t even be there.
The masked man would be doing all of those things.
Choso prefers to make love to you. He likes you comfortable in your bed, back against your soft pillows. He likes to look at you, and kiss you, and whisper how much he loves you while you cum.
The masked man is the opposite. He prefers to fuck your little pussy until your walls are molded into the shape of his cock. He takes you from behind as he slaps your ass and spits on your pussy to use it as his lube to slam into you even harder.
Wait, can he spit in a mask-
Choso is still internally musing as you get off the couch and walk over to your bag, unzip it, and pull out the mask you brought for him.
His eyes lock on it, immediately focused and brought back to earth again.
You walk ever so slowly towards him, watching how his eyes track the object you’re holding.
You place the mask in his hands without a word.
“Are you sure?” you ask softly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I promise I won’t be upset.”
He finally looks away from the mask and up at you. There’s something you’ve never seen before behind his gaze.
“I’m sure.”
⋆⋆⋆
The air outside is colder than you expected.
It hits your skin the second you step out onto the deck, sharp and grounding. The air smells like damp earth and plants. The moon is bright and high in the sky, illuminating the ground around you.The forest stretches around the cabin- seemingly endless and quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl.
It’s exactly what you’d always imagined for this.
Behind you, the door creaks softly as Choso steps out behind you, mask still in hand.
For a second, neither of you move. It’s different out here. Inside had felt safe and contained.
This?
This feels… wild. It feels real.
His eyes linger on you, searching your face like he’s looking for any hesitation, doubt, fear- anything that would give him a reason to call it off before it starts.
But there’s nothing to find.
In fact, you look sort of… hungry. Your cheeks are already flushed and your eyes are bright. Your nipples are already hardened underneath your thin sweater, although your boyfriend couldn’t be 100% sure if it was from your anticipation or from the cold.
Choso was still hard from just talking about it earlier, but he’s even more turned on after seeing your aroused expression.
There’s no denying at this point that this plan of yours does more than intrigue him, it excites him. Some part of him that was previously hidden and asleep before is roaring awake now. Something about the mask gives him the freedom to do things that he’d never dream of doing to his sweet, little angel of a girlfriend.
He’s ready now.
Slowly-
He lifts it.
Then stops just for a moment, not out of hesitation, but to remind you-
“You’ll say the word if anything feels wrong.”
Choso’s gaze holds yours for one last millisecond, then he’s finally pulling the mask on.
Something shifts.
It’s not overly dramatic, but it's noticeable to you right away.
His shoulders straighten and he stands taller. The constant tension that had been sitting within him all evening so far disappeared. He seemed focused. Confident, even.
You can’t see anything about his expression behind the mask. He’s still in his black sweatshirt and matching sweatpants that he wore for the drive up, making him almost entirely blend in with the darkness behind him.
He’s giving off an aura of danger that he never has before with you. It has you absolutely dripping in your panties.
The distance the mask creates does exactly what he thought he would. It quiets all the noise inside his head. Now, there’s only one thing-
You.
Standing right in front of him. You look different to him somehow. Nothing has really changed about you. But you almost look like… like prey.
His prey.
His voice turns gruff, dark. It’s a tone you’ve never heard from him before. It’s one that immediately makes you weak in the knees and somehow even wetter.
“You better be fast.”
A brief pause as your heart feels like it's crawling up into your throat and your pussy is throbbing from down below.
“Run.”
You don’t wait for even a moment.
You’re immediately turning and sprinting off into the trees, breath catching slightly both on his words and the harsh air as it hits your lungs.
You’re running as fast as you can on the uneven ground. Nature is completely silent around you except for your pounding footsteps and ragged breaths.
As soon as you hit the cover of the trees, it became much more dim and difficult to see. You still could, but not more than maybe 5 or 10 feet in front of you. Anything any further than that was completely hidden to you.
You can’t deny to yourself that this is a bit more strenuous and scarier than you expected it to be, but any bit of fear was being overridden in your brain by the excitement in your pussy.
It had been way more than 30 seconds by now, but you still don’t hear your boyfriend behind you.
The forest is swallowing sounds, chewing them, and spitting them back out at you now. Your footsteps are echoing, fallen leaves crunching underneath your feet, pulse pounding loudly in your ears.
You couldn’t tell if all of the sounds you were hearing were coming from you or not. You’re just trying to stay as silent as you can for now.
You had been running for maybe around 5 minutes now and you’re already slowing down. Your shins are starting to feel like they have little needles in them and your lungs are burning with each inhale.
What can you say? You’re not the most athletic gal out there. Choso was right about that one.
You risk a glance over your shoulder and pray you don’t trip over anything while you look behind you.
Nothing.
Just darkness and trees. Lots of trees, shadows stretching long in between them. Now that you’ve slowed, you can hear more clearly. There’s no sounds of movement besides your own and a slight rustle of leaves in the wind.
You slow down on purpose even further until you’re just walking, still facing behind you.
“...Choso?” you tentatively call out.
No response. You walk another 10 maybe 20 steps and then-
A branch snaps.
You freeze. That was definitely not you. But it sounded close.
You still couldn’t see anyone, so Choso must be somewhere off the path. Totally hidden from your sight.
Your stomach is doing flips inside you. The animalistic part of your brain is taking over now. You blindly take off again, even faster than before despite being near your physical limit. Your heart is beating even harder as your adrenaline kicks in.
You know you’re completely safe with him, but your natural bodily instincts still have you feeling a bit more shaken up and on edge than you expected to.
But truthfully, that fear was just adding to the wetness collecting in your panties. You’ve never been this turned on in your life and you haven’t even been touched.
Behind you-
Choso isn’t rushing.
He’s moving through the trees with a steady pace, measured and completed in control.
He doesn’t run because he doesn’t need to. Not yet.
You’re not nearly as quiet as you think you are. Every sound you make is drawing out a map within his mind. He knows exactly where you are at all times. It’s something innate inside him.
He could catch you already if he wanted to.
He could.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he follows.
When you stopped and called out for him, he snapped that branch on purpose. Normally, Choso would’ve immediately answered. He would’ve reassured you and let you know that he was right there with you.
But this isn’t normal Choso. This is the masked man. He wants you to be a bit scared. He wants to savor the chase for a while longer.
He grins something feral underneath the mask when you start running again.
He’s never seen you like this before since he always tries so hard to prevent you from ever feeling any negative emotions. He didn’t realize how delicious your fear could be.
This version of Choso also felt akin to an animal. He almost swore he could even smell your arousal in the air as he trailed you.
He wasn’t just following you at this point. He was hunting.
Hunting.
The word settles in his mind and makes him pause for just a moment.
The thought of that should bother him, but instead he just bares his teeth like he really is a predator and speeds up.
Ahead of him, your steps are starting to falter. There’s a drag in your stride, the pacing is uneven.You’re slowing back down again.
You’re so close to your limit.
Choso can tell. The masked man wants to see exactly how far he can push you.
This was another chance to end it right here. Instead-
You trip and stumble over a tree root - exactly like he said you would.
Choso’s heart jumps for a moment before you find your footing and keep running, but you’re even slower than before and seem to be favoring one ankle. That must have hurt you a little bit.
Okay, maybe he will end it soon. Although some part of him is enjoying this very much, he’ll be damned if he lets you actually get seriously injured during it. That protective side of him will always overpower anything else.
He disappears again for a moment. He cuts even deeper into the trees, giving a wide berth around the path.
He’s able to catch up to you with only a slight jog of his own. He’s moving parallel to you now. He stays far away enough from the path that you couldn’t hear his quickened footsteps, but close enough that he can see you through the trees.
He can see you much better from hear and you’re definitely struggling. Your limp is a bit more pronounced and he can hear how loudly you’re breathing from overexertion.
Aww, his poor baby.
That’s why he reminded you how much you hate running.
He may be the masked man right now, but Choso’s instinct to care for you is so strong that he decides to take some mercy on you.
He closes the final bit of distance within seconds.
You don’t see him as his large body sprints towards you out of the dark. Not until it’s too late.
He’s colliding into your body from the side, instantly cradling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.
You’re both sent flying into the grass and brush on the opposite side of the path. Choso somehow manages to move midair so he’s tucked underneath you, taking the full force of the impact to his back as you both crash into the ground. He doesn’t let his weight crush you or let you touch the ground once as the two of you roll over each other. You come to a stop with him on top, straddling your hips and pinning your wrists to the ground.
You stare at each other for just a moment through the mask. You barely know what the hell just happened or how he did that.
“Caught you.” he rasps out, voice low and husky.
Your breath is stuttering in your lungs. You know it’s your boyfriend, but you don’t recognize the man behind the mask at all.
Well at least until he leans forward and breaks character just long enough to whisper in your ear. “Promise you want this?”
You nod desperately.
You can’t react in any other way before his hands are on you, groping your breasts through your flimsy sweater. Choso is pinching your nipples harder than he’s ever dared to before, sending your head flying back.
Then one of his hands is wrapping around your throat and squeezing the sides just enough to make you see stars.
He’s never once choked you.
You were already loving this. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before in your entire life.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing alone out here? Don’t ya know there’s dangerous animals lurking out in these woods? ”
Oh fuck. He’s never talked to you like that before either.
The dark tone he’s using is sending shivers down your spine.
Choso’s dark hair is let down, flowing wildly around his mask. He’s almost completely shadowed by the dim moonlight at his back.
He really does look like a feral animal, even without being able to see his face. One in its natural habitat.
He doesn’t even bother to fully take your top off, just drags it up past your chest to expose your breasts to the darkness. Your nipples are sharpened to a rock hard point between your boyfriend’s actions and the temperature outside.
Choso pulls his mask up just enough to uncover his lips, then he’s kissing you with his hand still wrapped around your throat.
More like ravaging your lips. It’s a lot of tongue and even a little bit of teeth. He sucks on your tongue, making you go stupid just from kissing him. He bites your bottom lip and tugs on it, just enough to sting a little.
He releases you and he works his way down your body, sucking harshly on the side of your neck first. He wants you as covered with his bruises as humanly possible.
“A sweet girl like you should know how hungry those animals can get.”
Then he’s at your tits, nipping and sucking at the side of your breasts before squeezing them together with his hands. He uses his thumb to twirl circles over one nipple while biting and sucking cruelly on the other one. He swaps sides after a bit, alternating between the two and driving you crazy with the need for him to finally touch you where you need it most.
“Please-”
“Shut up. You asked for this and now you’re going to get it.”
But he’s getting a little impatient too. Choso’s cock is painfully hard and leaking precum like a faucet at this point.
Which is why he doesn't even bother to take your leggings all the way off.
Instead, he grabs the seam in the center of your leggings and riippp-
“Holy fuck, did you just ruin-”
You’re cut off by him immediately burying his face- well, mask- into your center and inhaling deeply.
You’re just in your panties now. The cute little wet spot in the middle was so obvious through the thin fabric even in the dim light.
Fuck.
Choso really was feeling savage. Just the scent of your pretty, seeping pussy was driving him crazy.
“I’m going to fucking devour you.” Choso growls out and then he's grabbing your hips and yanking them upward.
Your back is bent and your lower half is hanging entirely in the air. You had to cactus your arms into the dirt on either side of your head to have any semblance of stability. The position is awkward as hell.
But it feels so fucking hot. You’re entirely exposed to him, at his mercy.
Which is exactly what the masked man wanted. Typically, Choso liked you sitting on his face, hands in his hair, rolling your hips over his tongue.
But right now, he wants you to be unable to move. To be unable to push his head away when your clit becomes too sensitive. He wanted to overpower you and own you.
For a moment, Choso just looks down at you. How pathetic and desperate and needy you look like this. You’ve never looked like this in bed before. Now, he fully understands why you wanted this so badly.
At the same moment, you’re looking back up at him between your legs. Towering over you. All you can see through the mask are his eyes. And his eyes are telling you his earlier thoughts.
I’m the beast. You’re my prey.
Then he’s licking a vicious stripe directly up the center of your pussy. All the way from your opening to your clit, making your back arch off the ground.
Choso spent a lot of time with his mouth on your pussy, but not like this.
It’s brutal and overwhelming and oh so good. His tongue is everywhere. Lashing at your clit for a moment before going down and sucking one of your lips into his mouth, teasing it with little licks.Then he’s thrusting his tongue into your opening and fucking you with intense strokes.
The constant changes of speed and direction have you feeling drunk. Delirious, even. It was impossible to keep up, but your hips were mindlessly gyrating in the air anyway, chasing your release that was threatening to explode.
Then Choso gives you exactly what you need to set the ammunition off.
He focuses in on your clit intensely. He’s basically making out with it, pulling your bud into his mouth and sucking.
The pleasure that had been building in your lower belly ignited and then went off. Thank god no one was out here because there was no controlling the loud moans that were escaping your lips and echoing off the trees as you came.
“I knew you’d taste delicious. My new favorite meal.” He pulls back with a beastly grin, his lips shiny in the moonlight from your juices.
He doesn’t even bother wiping off his face before he pulls his mask back down.
Before you can even process how that was probably the best orgasm out of all of the probably thousands that he’s given you up to this point, you’re being flipped around to your hands and knees. A position Choso rarely puts you in except for when you asked because he loves seeing your face so much.
Smack!
Then-
Smack! Smack! Smack!
A loud gasp leaves you as Choso starts to slap your ass harshly, alternating cheeks.
“I’m going to take this sweet cunt and fuck it so hard that you’re going to regret ever stepping foot in this woods.”
A brief pause before he croons-
“In fact, I’m not just going to fuck you, baby. No- I’m going to mate you.”
Then he’s lining up his thick cock with your hole and slamming all the way in with one thrust.
In any other situation, you’d be disgusted by the twigs and leaves currently trapped in your hair and the fact that you’re down in the literal dirt. Turns out when your masked boyfriend is behind you pummeling his thick cock into the deepest crevices of your pussy, you don’t seem to mind that much.
This was so different from any other time Choso has made love to you. Not just because of the dirt. But because he really was fucking you for the first time. Hard, fast, and nasty.
It was even more than all that actually.
It was primal.
You’ve never experienced this type of savage claim in your life. You could feel your boyfriend everywhere.
Your ass was still red and stinging from his hits. Your neck and breasts were covered with forming hickeys, the purple and blue already starting to blossom on your skin. And your pussy-
God, he was so deep in your pussy that you finally understood what people meant by feeling it in their throat.
You could choke on him like this.
He had your hair wrapped around one fist, yanking your head back towards him. The other hand was gripped tightly on your hip, using it as leverage to pull you back and fuck you even harder and faster.
His rhythm is absolutely savage. Tears are streaming down your cheeks from the intensity. He’s fucking you like he loves you, like he hates you, like he was out of his mind with need for your pussy. Everything all in one.
You aren’t fully sure how Choso can tell you’re squeezing your eyes shut tightly as he rams into you, but he demands for you to open your eyes.
“Don’t ya hide from me. Never again. You pretend to be a good girl, but you’ve been dying for me to fuck you like an animal.”
“Chosooo” you moan. You can’t say anything but repeat it again and again.
And it drives him fucking mad. Saying his name when he’s the masked man. When he’s never been so confused and turned on and ridiculously close to cumming early in his life.
So he takes it out on your pussy. He fucks you with abandon, still holding your hair. His other hand moved around to start rubbing furious, relentless circles on your clit.
“Mine” Choso’s snarling out over and over behind you, in time with his thrusts.
Then he’s pinching your clit between two fingers. Hard.
Another orgasm slams into you forcefully, your entire body shaking as your juices flood out and cover Choso’s dick.
He doesn’t even slow down in the slightest, despite the fact that your pussy is extremely sensitive from cumming twice back to back.
Normally, Choso would care when you started to feel overstimulated and give you a little break.
But the masked man didn’t give a shit.
He was just a beast and you were just his prey. All he could do was chase after his own pleasure. It wasn’t even about you or your plan anymore.
“I want to mark you. Own you.”
Then he’s using his hand that’s in your hair to yank you towards him even further, bending your spine as much as it can go and exposing your throat to him.
Choso curves and leans over you, mouth at your throat. He’s fucking you frantically, rutting at you as hard and quickly as he possibly can. He licks up the side of your neck once. Then bites.
Choso’s orgasm comes crashing down on him as he’s still thrusting inside you animalisticaly, coating your walls with his cum. He keeps his teeth on your throat as he fucks you all the way through it, not letting up at all until his cock is spent and you’re insides are entirely flooded with him.
You feel ravaged and claimed and a bit sore all over, but in the absolutely best way possible.
Choso pulls his now softening dick out of you and is moving instantly to pull you into his arms. He’s kneeling on the ground with you in his lap, whispering praises and kissing your head.
“I love you so much. A-Are you okay? Are you hurt? Was- Was it good? God, you looked so beautiful in the moonlight.”
⋆⋆⋆
After the two of you were done, Choso was insistent about getting back to the cabin quickly to warm you up and check you over to make sure you weren’t hurt. He never even fully undressed at all during the entire thing, but he did rip off his sweatshirt afterwards and demand you pull it over your clothes. Then he scooped you up and carried you all the way back.
Choso proceeded to fuss over you for the next hour or so. He had to do a full body examination and disinfected any minor scrapes you got. He plucked all of the debris out of your hair by hand.
Finally, he made use of the enormous tub in the cabin and ran a hot bath.
He kicked you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom for just a few minutes while he set up the bath. You thought it was because he was lighting candles and cutely sprinkling some rose petals he had brought with him into the water. Which it partly was and he did do those things.
But he also needed to take a brief moment to think about how much he enjoyed that. It’s unexpected but-
He kind of wants to do that again.
So, Choso was just feeling a bit flustered over just how much he loved being the masked man. He needed a minute to collect himself. And look up a few things…
Then he called you into the bathroom and surprised you with the romantic bath set up.
Which is where the two of you were at currently.
Choso was seated behind you. You were in between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You lolled your head back onto his shoulder and closed his eyes.
Honestly, you didn’t mind all of the fretting he did over you. Your typical sweet, gentle boyfriend had returned. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t thoroughly enjoy your time with the masked man, but this version of Choso was who you loved the most.
You even think you’d be content if that was your one and only experience with the masked man.
The way normal Choso washed your hair and massaged your shoulders in the bath was way better anyways.
You were so relaxed in that moment that you were on the border of unconsciousness, about to fall asleep as Choso gently stroked your thighs underneath the warm water.
In fact, you were so relaxed that you missed the slight ping of Choso’s phone that was left on the edge of the tub. He had removed it from the car earlier in case anything went wrong during your little game. He was using it now to play soft, spa-inspired music while the two of you bathed.
You didn’t even notice the slight pause in the music or see the flash of light as his phone lit up because you were so lost in your dreamy state.
So, you didn’t see the email. The bold subject line that read “ORDER CONFIRMATION”. You also didn’t see who the sender was, which just happened to be the very familiar name of a Halloween store.
Pls do not plagiarize! Writing by @wifeofchoso03. Thank you for reading!! (:
P.S. if you're curious about that Nanami story, check out this post (;
summary : taking shelter with a zombie is never a good idea, no matter how hot said zombie may be.
content : zombie apocalypse au, half-zombie choso, descriptions of wounds/bites, decapitation (zombie) smut, cunniligus, spitting, hair tugging, cumming in pants, reader is mean to choso sometimes but he deserves it (kinda sorry ily chobaby), yandere-ish choso at the end..<3
you’re going to die right here in this shitty wasteland with no one around.
no one but the (almost) zombie standing over you.
the fresh wounds all over your arms ache as the skin around them stretches from you tugging at the rope suspending your wrists.
“please, will you just listen to me?” the man crouched down beside you tries to reason with you, but you know better.
you know that once someone’s been bitten, there’s no going back. there is no saving them, there is no happy ending.
attempting to put him out of his misery before the worst of it began was your mistake. he blocked your every move and you foolishly hit your head on one of the shelves in the trashed supermarket.
you’ve only just regained consciousness and found yourself tied up by this maniac. “no, please—please just let me go before you turn, you still have some control now, don’t you?” you plead with him, still jerking your body around and trying to free yourself.
“i told you i’m not going to turn.” he sighs, holding his head in his hands.
whatever zombie had bitten him beforehand must have been some sort of evolved type, you’ve never seen this level of delusion.
he’s got all the signs for someone in the first stage, grayish pale skin, veins popping out from his arms, black milky eyes with redness on the lids—there’s also a strange mark across his face that you haven’t seen on anyone before.
the only thing you haven’t seen is the bite, “snap out of it, please—look at your bite, where were you bitten?!” you breathe out, giving up on your struggle to regain energy.
he sighs and lifts up the ripped up black shirt he’s wearing to reveal a large wound on his ribs thats… begun to heal?
bites don’t heal, they don’t get the chance to. it looks like he’s had it at least a week or two judging by the yellow bruising and how some parts have begun to scab.
“what the…what the fuck..?” you don’t know what you’re looking at, has he somehow kept his brain function intact but not his body’s? that shouldn’t be possible. it isn’t possible.
“do you believe me now? i was trying to show it to you but you…just kept attacking me.” he looks to the axe thrown onto the floor beside you, just out of reach.
“have you seen yourself? you—this isn’t normal!” trying to make sense of your reality is no use, everytime a new possibility creeps up in your mind it only makes everything more confusing, “why the hell did you tie me up anyways?!”
“in case you woke up and went ballistic without letting me explain.” he moves to lean against the shelf opposite you.
he’s strangely laid back for someone in this kind of situation and you’re getting increasingly frustrated at his nonchalance. “you haven’t explained anything, how haven’t—WILL YOU UNTIE ME NOW?!”
“i’m going to explain i just—i don’t want you running before i’m done..i’m sorry, your wounds must hurt.” his sympathy seems sincere, but if he feels so bad why won’t he just let you go?!
“yeah, they’re fucking killing me so hurry up.” you had been fighting for your life a few days ago and you’re right back at it, there’s no breaks in the world you live in.
“my brothers and i, we were starving out here. there wasn’t enough food for the 4 of us and so—“
he pauses for a moment and looks away from your face, it doesn’t get any less disturbing to say out loud no matter how many times he does.
“we—we ate one..” his voice cracks, “a zombie. we—“ he doesn’t get to finish, his body recoils and he shuts his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from gagging any more.
your heart drops to your stomach, travels right back up to your throat and you nearly throw up all over him.
“you..ate..a zombie..?”
“there was no other way, we—we were too weak to even continue searching for food.” he reassures himself more than he does you,
“my body adapted, that’s why i’m like this. they don’t come near me any more—see me as one of them.” he chokes out the last part of his explanation as quickly as he can to prevent himself from retching.
so you’re tied up by a half zombie who ate another zombie.
greaaaat.
“where are your brothers now?” you ask, hoping that he hasn’t got a gang of freaks like him hiding around the corner.
he falls silent.
“they’re gone. i should untie you now.”
you’re unsure what do say or do in this situation, do you comfort him? a man you had met 40 minutes ago who you’ve just discovered is part-zombie, does he have feelings?
shit. does he have cravings?
it hits you the same time the rope binding your wrists together is released, you use all the strength you can muster up to quickly push yourself up from the floor and create distance between the two of you once again.
“are you hungry? is that why you kept me—am i emergency rations?!”
he throws his hands up by his shoulders all too quickly, “ow, fuck—no.” he hisses, “i get the cravings but i don’t act on them—food works fine to replace it. please, please don’t go.” his voice is shaky as he pleads with you.
not only has his appearance changed but his senses have too, all of them have grown stronger—with some downsides of course.
choso feels everything at an extreme level, 3x that of a normal human being, this one has more cons than pros considering his nearly healed bite has to be treated with the utmost care.
he sounds genuine, but it’s hard to trust normal people these days—let alone a mutation. “have you spotted a first aid kit here? reopened my wounds.” you hope to patch yourself and get out of here as soon as possible.
“yes, will you let me help you?” he takes a cautious step towards you, careful not to startle you.
“i’m fully able to do it myself, but thanks—“
“let me help you.” he reaches out to gently grab a hold of your arm.
his fingers are abnormally cold, like that of a lifeless body, but his face is full of life and emotion.
you go back and forth in your own head as he inspects the lacerations on your body, “this one.” he points to a large gash, “it looks like you didn’t wrap it properly.”
“didn’t have much time.” the skin around it has got dried blood and dirt, but you’d rather sepsis take you out anyway.
with a worried expression on his face he looks back to yours, moving his other hand to your jaw and turning your head left and right, his hands are so cold it sends a shiver through your whole body.
at that he instantly pulls away, “am i hurting you?” he asks, his hands balling up into fists at his sides as if he were cursing his own body.
“just show me where the kit is already.” you sigh.
of course you feel bad. you feel like the shittiest human being on earth when this stranger is treating you with the most care you’ve received your entire life and you’re planning to ditch him.
but it’s too big of a risk to take, so you listen to your brain instead of your heart.
you prop yourself up on the nearby counter where you assume the cash register used to be and battle with the two organs inside you while he fumbles with the box on the wall.
“we’ll have to disinfect this one—“ he reaches under the counter and pulls out a large bottle of vodka, “it’s going to hurt, you can hold my hand if you want.”
you stick your arm out towards him, “i’ve done this a million times. i’ll be fine.” keeping your emotions at bay is getting harder and harder the longer you’re in his presence.
for someone so cold he’s got the warmest heart in the world.
he tips the glass bottle and alcohol begins to dribble out of it, you hiss the moment it scorches your skin and mutter out a string of curses as it keeps going, creating a puddle on the floor.
you don’t know what came over you, your other arm instinctively reaches out to grab onto the freezing hand he still had held out for you all this time and you give it a tight squeeze until you can no longer feel the burn.
he almost wants to pour out the entire litre so he can feel the warmth of your palm and the pulse in your fingers for as long as possible, it’s as if someone was beating his heart for him.
once you come to your senses you try to pry your hand away, but he’s got a firm grip on it and a face that looks like he’ll die if he has to part from your hand.
“are you going to leave me?”
well shit.
you suck in a long breath before replying, “no. okay? i’m not going anywhere.”
“what’s up with you anyway? we just met and i tried to chop your head off.” you’re frustrated with yourself for letting your emotions win—but the heart wants what it wants.
“i don’t want to be alone any longer. it’s hard.” his lip quivers.
you’ve been on your own throughout this whole thing, bar the time you grouped up with 5 others and came back to shelter to find 2 mauled beyond recognition and 3 turned.
the lifeless shells are easier to deal with when you don’t know what they looked like alive.
and so, for that reason you give him the tough love. “should’ve realised by now you’re better off in the end if you stick to yourself.” you say, picking up the bandages he’d set down next to you.
the moment you grab a hold of them choso releases his strong grip on your hand to close both of his over the one holding the bandages. “i’m not, i won’t be.”
his persistence is commendable, you’ll give him that. “go on then.” you sigh, releasing your hold on them.
he unwraps a long strip of gauze, ripping it off with his teeth and moves to begin tending to you.
as he binds it on your arm he’s careful to not cause you anymore discomfort, his murky eyes look up to your face to make sure he isn’t hurting you.
“does that feel tight enough?” he asks, moving your arm up and down to make sure the bandages stay in place.
“yeah it’s fine—“ you say, hopping up off the counter, “you got somewhere in mind we can stay for the night? it’s too dark out for me to head back where i was staying.” you’re unsure how long you were unconscious for but it was too long.
he turns his head side to side, “..here?”
“the glass on all the doors is broken, we’re standing in a death trap right now—“
“no theres a room—in there.” he points to a door reading ‘STAFF ONLY’.
“i checked it out when you were uhm.. knocked out and it’s got a few mats in it.”
you walk over and push the door open, it’s what looks like an old break room. theres a broken table in the corner, a disassembled microwave, dirt and dried blood everywhere, few chairs and mats in the corner.
“you gonna help me board it up?”
“yes ma’am.” he says all too cheerfully.
choso gets to work immediately, lugging a few heavy items he found lying around the shop floor into the room to use them as a makeshift shield for the door while you lay down the mats and focus on making yourself a cozy corner in the filthy room.
by the time you’ve made the room safe enough to sleep in you’re exhausted, letting choso finish up what’s left as you begin to doze off on a scratchy rug and a backpack as a pillow.
you wake up cold and heavy—like theres a block of ice on top of you, dripping water onto your neck as it melts.
your eyes try to adjust to the dark room as your head turns, trying to make out figures and shadows every time you blink.
the feeling of icy breath on your neck makes everything snap into shape.
choso’s laying on top of you, an arm hugging your waist and a leg thrown over your hips, face buried into your neck with drool spilling from his lips.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
it was stupid to scream, yes. but your body’s instincts reacted quicker than your brain.
in a daze choso immediately rolls off of you and starts flailing his arms to cover his ears, “WHERE—WHERE, WHAT IS IT?!”
choso’s hearing is like that of a dog’s now, he can pick up the sound of heartbeats, zombies from miles away, but he’s sensitive to loud noises.
“YOU WERE—“ you quickly come to the realisation that your voice is way too loud and could attract nearby zombies, “—on top of me!”
“i—no! i didn’t mean to! i’m sorry!” he chokes out, hands still over his ears trying to soothe his ringing eardrums.
“your spot was on the other side of the room. how did you get here?” you cross your arms, frustrated he’s attempting to lie to you.
“i swear! i don’t know maybe i’ve started sleepwalking—the zombie brain stuff y’know!”
choso’s telling the truth, but he’s got a horrible way of showing it.
and maybe he did wake up in the middle of the night at your side wondering how he got there, and maybe he chose to stay..
“whatever, don’t scare me like that again.” you’re too tired for this bullshit.
he simply nods like a kicked puppy and tries to think of how to switch to a different topic but his brain turns to mush.
you decide to put him out of his misery, “so, what are we doing about food? i don’t want to be here when you get hungry.”
“i’m not going to eat you.”
“never know.” you shrug.
all the food left in the store has already either been taken or expired. the only thing edible would be the ultra-processed stale skittles that would provide no nutrition, but its a backup in case his stomach starts growling.
“we’d better start looking.” you sigh, getting up and dusting yourself off.
and you do, you each grab what little stuff you had with you and set out in search of something to satiate your hunger.
the summer stench of rotting flesh isn’t easy, but for choso it seems excruciating. each time you pass an overfilled trash can or limbs scattered around the pavement he literally turns green in the face, veins blooming all over it.
his sense of smell has grown stronger, he can separate zombie from human without even seeing them and it makes his stomach growl every time he catches wind of fresh meat.
“you sure you aren’t craving me?”
“BLURBBLURBBLURBBB”
“yep! yes—yeah! but if you could just walk a little..further.” he mutters out, clenching his abdomen.
“think i see an abandoned camp up there, might have some leftovers.” you point over into a distant cul de sac where crumpled tents lay.
choso can’t wait any longer, he starts sprinting down to it and you quickly follow after, “HEY! DON’T TRY EAT WITHOUT ME!” you call out to a surprisingly fast choso.
you catch up to him before he gets too close and pull on the collar of his shirt to slow him down, “what are you, stupid? what if you ran in there and unzipped the tent and a zombie was looking you straight in the face? i’m the one with the gun.”
“i told you they don’t think i’m tasty.”
you roll your eyes, “so what, you would have let them have me instead?”
“you have the gun…?” he mutters.
you suddenly release your grip on his collar and let him go, causing him to stumble as you walk in front of him, cursing yourself for even putting up with this dumbass.
he trails behind you as you turn the safety off and slowly back into the lane, checking your surroundings.
and before you can start unzipping the tent you feel a hand slap over your mouth and strong arms dragging you to the corner.
“shh. they’re around the corner.” he sniffles.
you don’t say or do anything, you trust his judgment for once and keep as still as possible, your back is pressed to his chest as you attempt to keep your breathing slow and steady.
a moment passes until you yourself can hear the creaking noises coming from the pack of zombies, it doesn’t drift further away and your heart pounds inside your chest.
he moves his hand over your heart and whispers to you, “stay here.”
“huh?” you look back at him, confused—but you haven’t got much time to think it over because all of a sudden he’s running at the three zombies that have just appeared.
you react instantly, raising your pistol and attempting to get a clear shot on one of them, but its no use.
choso’s acting like a rabid dog. grouping them together and knocking them against one another repeatedly, just what is he trying to accomplish here?
as he swings two around, their arms detach and go flying off into the distance—you can do nothing but stare with a mouth open so wide you could fit a family of 4.
he growls as he pushes the last one to the ground, stomps on its head and drags it by its torso, splitting it in two and kicking the head out to where the other rotting limbs were.
the two that had their arms detached creak as they stumble towards him, in one fluid motion he snaps one’s neck and moves to stick his hands in the other’s open mouth, pulling it open with such force the jaw disconnects and half of a lifeless head falls to the ground.
“what the fuck..” you stare in awe.
he turns back to you with blood splattered all over him, licking a leftover bead at the corner of his lip. “what?” he asks, walking toward you.
“sit and think. what could i possibly be so shocked about?” you wait for him to answer but it doesn’t look like he’s going to.
“maybe the fact you traded your smarts for superhuman fucking strength?!”
he inspects his wrist, thinking he may have pulled a muscle during that whole ordeal, “have cool vision too. bit blurry and scaly but i can see tracks you can’t—like that tent over there.”
“what about it? don’t tell me you’ve got x ray vision and can see through it.” this whole situation is unbelievable, you wouldn’t be surprised.
“no, theres fresh footsteps leading to it, like someone was just here.” he says, leaning down and walking over to it.
he unzips the tent to find nothing but a can of beans. “didn’t leave much.” he sighs.
“well i hope its good enough for you, don’t wanna end up like them.” you say that last part under your breath, but he still hears you.
“i’m not going to hurt you, i did that for your protection.” he reiterates, opening the can and crouching down.
“you knew i had a gun—y’know what, whatever lets just eat.” you’ve gone days without food now and can’t be bothered arguing with him anymore.
he opens the can and hands it to you, letting you have the first swig of..beans.
never in your life did you think that you would be salivating over a tin of beans, but you are. you let a few fall into your mouth and hand them back to him.
he brings the can to his mouth and starts gulping them down, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he shakes the tin, letting more and more fall out. “mmnnnmnn…”
the can is emptied in 10 seconds.
you snatch it off him, “WHO SAID YOU COULD HAVE THE REST?!” you scream, tipping it over to confirm your eyes aren’t deceiving you and he just finished the whole thing.
he pauses his chewing to stare at you, dumbfounded.
you lob the empty can at his head.
“URRRRRGGGGG!!!!!” you groan, getting up and pacing around in a rage.
rubbing the back of his head while swallowing down whats left of the beans he gets up to walk toward you, so you pick up the can and throw it at him again.
“ow! i’m sorrmny—tfhought you were finisenshed..” he mumbles with a mouthful of beans.
“WHY WOULD I BE SATISFIED WITH 4 BEANS?—you put those eyes to use and find me more food. now.”
“can’t smell any more around here.” he says sheepishly.
you two go back and forth for a while before you give up and decide to head back to your newfound ‘home’ as he’s now calling it.
it’s awkward and silent, more so for him than for you. you’re more focused on how to get this leech off your back.
sadly it has a voice, “can we be friends again? i’ll let you have what we find tomorrow.”
“oh howww generous of youuu.” you drag out.
“thank you.” he says with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
not until you were about to get some well deserved shut-eye anyways,
“are you mad? are you going to leave?”
he’s moved his rug closer to yours now but you aren’t too bothered about it after seeing his defensive skills, you’ll throw him at the zombies if they somehow break in.
“no choso, im just hungry.” you look into his eyes, even in the dark room you can’t tell if they’re too dead or too alive looking for a half-zombie.
“okay.”
you both say nothing more, nothing less—just stare at each other in comfortable silence for a moment.
he takes a risk and inches closer to you—you don’t mind. maybe it is nice to have someone around after all.
you find yourself scooting closer to him too.
you find yourself not caring when your noses touch.
you find yourself studying his inhuman features, when you’re up this close they’re sort of fascinating.
choso’s cherishing every ounce of warmth radiating off of your body, he’s began to grow used to his cold body, it doesn’t bother him that much but you’ve become like a drug to him.
and an idea pops into his head.
“can i..kiss you?”
his question takes you aback, that’s the last thing you expected.
you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t insanely attractive, but..he’s not human—not fully anyways. “where’s this come from?” you chuckle.
“i want to test something.” he gives no further details, if he were to explain his intentions his whole plan would go out the window.
“alright. you owe me two tins of beans.” thankfully for him, you don’t ask.
he sits up onto one elbow and leans down to cradle your face in one hand, parting his lips and letting them move with yours.
his lips are softer than you expected, but they’re also incredibly wet from how much he’s drooling. you expect it to only last a few seconds, but it doesn’t seem like he’s got that intention.
he slips his tongue in easily, the wet muscle connecting with yours makes your eyes open wide—finding him looming over you with a look so desperate it makes your womb flutter.
you open your mouth slightly to let his tongue push in deeper, you’re certain theres more of his saliva than yours in your own mouth by now.
choso’s addicted.
addicted to the way you look, smell, feel, taste, and sound.
the noises of your sloppy kissing already has him half-hard.
he pulls away from you to let you breathe properly and a glob of his spit falls into your open mouth.
“swallow it—swallow it, please.” he pants.
he’s asking you so nicely you wouldn’t be able to say no even if you didn’t want to.
the sight of your throat bobbing as you gulp down his dna sends him west—he needs more of you, “will you let me taste you?” he can smell your pussy dripping and it’s driving him insane.
at his words you instinctively press your thighs together, all you can do is nod—it’s like he’s shut off your brain.
with your approval he gets so excited he nearly rips off your shorts, but before he can go all animalistic you grab a hold of them and pull them off yourself.
he doesn’t waste a second before burying his nose into your soaked panties, just inhaling your scent—your legs twitch at the feeling of the tip of his nose pressed against your clit.
while moving backward to settle in between your legs he kisses up and down your thighs, dragging it out for as long as he can.
he licks stripes from knee to hip, pecks hundreds of light kisses at your inner thigh and circles just right around your clit but doesn’t graze it once.
“mmnnph.. chosoo..” you whine, growing impatient.
“hmm?”
you’re too embarrassed to say it out loud, so you take a handful of his hair in your hand and guide him to your cunt.
a smile spreads across his face as he hooks his fingers into the side of your panties, and it grows even bigger when he’s seen with his own eyes the effect his teasing had on you.
his tongue leaves his mouth to finally get a taste of your sweet pussy—going from your soaked entrance all the way up to that swollen little bud.
you let out a shaky breath thats cut short when he starts sucking on it, then combining that with small flicks of the tip of his tongue.
“good…so good..” he mumbles against your pussy, sending vibrations through you that make you wriggle around even more.
SSSHLOOP! SSSHLOOP! SSSHLOOP! is all that can be heard in the dimly lit space, the only light is coming from the moon shining through the small window at the top.
he’s making out with it now, closing his eyes and practically swallowing up your entire cunt while he growls.
your hips uncontrollably buck against his mouth and he uses his veiny arms to slam them back down against the rug—not for a second taking his attention off of the way his tongue moves against you.
he finally pulls back slightly to take a breath, and the second you think you’re about to get a break too he dives right back in, swishing his tongue around your clit at a pace that has you making sounds you didn’t even know you could “cho—so….haaah..”
“please—fuuuuck..please cum on my tongue..” hes rutting his hips against the ground, craving his own release.
your hand grips the crown of his head to control his mouth as your face contorts in pleasure, feeling your cunt throb.
he’s desperate for it, eating you out like he’s been without food for 40 days and 40 nights just to feel the dribble of your juices on his tastebuds.
“fffuck..! cum-cumming..!” you cry out, thighs closing in over his head that you have buried deep in your pussy and nearly choking him with the force of them hugging his neck so tightly.
choso’s lapping up everything, the struggle to take a breath makes everything feel so much more intense, his hips stutter against the ground as he tries to prevent himself from spilling his seed into his only pair of pants—but it’s too late.
his cum trickles out slowly, soaking through the front and leaving the rug under him damp.
it was already soaking from a mix of your pussy juices and his saliva dripping from his chin down onto it, so looks like you’ll have to share one tonight.
you awake abruptly the next morning to choso shaking you.
your vision is hazy as you look up at him, he’s got a terrified expression on his face and you quickly realise why.
theres banging—loud banging and creaking at the door.
not from one nor two zombies, but what sounds like dozens trying to get in.
the makeshift block choso made for the door is no help against that many, with every shake more and more items come toppling down and its beginning to open.
“they—they only want you!” he seems to have come to some sort of realisation. “you can’t leave me. you said you wouldn’t, right?”
“huh?”
“so this’ll work. it has to—it’s what i planned, it’s my test.” he’s rambling on and on and you have zero clue what’s going on.
“what are you talking ab—“
CRUNCH!
you don’t even feel it.
not until you look down and find a piece of your arm missing—in choso’s mouth.
“they won’t hurt you anymore, they won’t come near you, we can stay like this forever.”
a/n : ok i have to srsly lock in for exams now but the song came up on my fyp and the ideas just started going to my head and i just ended up at the notes app and it was a whole thing and this is the result
⟢Synopsis: You’re mean—plain and simple. But that never scared Choso away. He’s put up with your baseless bullying for years, all because一well, he’s got a crush on you. Now, in university, once you’re paired for a group project, you start to realize that you have some not-so-negative feelings of your own.
⟢Content Warnings: mentions of bullying, mean!reader, smoking, slight angst, hidden feelings, masturbation, somnophilia (if you squint), oral (m rec), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, choso lowkey gentle parenting reader, soft choso, also kind of mean choso, begging for it, dominant choso (unheard of)
⟢Word Count: 6.7k (heh nice)
⟢A/N: I wrote this kind of in a backwards way, so idk how this reads, apologies in advance. Also I had so much writers block and I’m still unsure if I’m happy with this fic :/
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚
You groan when you walk into your first ever university lecture—your excitement being immediately crushed by the sight of your long-time pest sitting in the back row. His mere presence ruins your mood, along with your once calm heart rate.
Choso offers you a polite smile when you lock eyes—you being the first familiar face he’d seen since settling into his dorm. He doesn’t seem to care that you’d been his childhood bully.
You and Choso had been classmates for as long as you could remember—since elementary school, at least. For reasons you never quite understood, he always managed to get under your skin. Maybe it was how smart he was, or how unwaveringly kind, or the way his eyes looked coated in dark makeup. Whatever it was, it annoyed you. A lot.
So you made sure he knew it.
You’d pick on him with your friends, always something about his alternative style, his study habits, maybe how low of a voice he had for his age. Every snide comment, every eye roll, every bit of irritation—you never held back. And yet, no matter how mean you were, Choso never retaliated. He stayed unfailingly civil.
Which only made things worse.
Because somehow, despite all your efforts to crush him, he had this frustrating ability to make your heart race—and you hated it.
And now, against all odds, you ended up at the same university, too. He clung to you like the dirt beneath your perfectly manicured nails. No matter where you went, there he was. Quiet. Unassuming. Constant.
You only give him a glare in return, before swiftly realizing that the only empty seat was right in front of him.
Shit.
You walk over slowly, each step feeling like you’re stepping on shards of glass. You begrudgingly sit down, trying to ignore his presence to the best of your ability.
“Hey, how’s your first day been?” he asks quietly, his aggravatingly deep voice already making your eye twitch.
“Don’t talk to me.” your voice cutting, trying to send the message that your opinion of him hasn’t changed since high school graduation.
“Sorry, just haven’t seen anyone I know, besides you-“ he apologizes like a dog that’d just been reprimanded.
“Yeah- because you don’t have any friends.” you mutter, rolling your eyes.
“I thought that maybe-“ he trails off, opting to be silent when you don’t even turn around to look at him.
The professor begins the class shortly after your brief exchange—announcing that everyone should remain in the same seats for the entire semester, so they can learn students’ names more efficiently.
You hate this class already.
Thankfully, Choso doesn’t try to talk to you for the rest of the lecture. You’re satisfied that he’d heeded your warning, you’d like to keep him where you can’t see or hear him—if only to spare yourself from sweaty palms and flushed ears.
It’s only when you stand up to leave that Choso pushes his luck.
“Hey, uhm-“ he starts, you freeze, your shoulders tensing and spine straightening. “if you ever need help with the course, we can share notes and whatnot-“
“Choso-“ you whip your head around, face red with anger. “How many times is it going to take for you to understand that I don’t like you.” you bite back, fists clenched at your sides.
Your eyes lock in a tense, lingering stare. Choso’s expression holds a faint, uncertain smile—while his wide brown eyes scan your face, searching for any trace of sarcasm, any sign that your words weren’t meant the way they sounded.
“Right.” his hopeful expression fading, replaced by a coldness that makes your stomach drop. He collects his stuff before calmly leaving the lecture hall.
You’d seen Choso a few times in the hallways since, you had hoped he’d return to routine smiles and nods of acknowledgement—just so you could sneer and roll your eyes. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance. Not one. The dynamic you’d accidentally curated over the years was gone in the blink of an eye.
The sweet and patient Choso seems to have reached his limit—and something about it makes you feel empty. You should be ecstatic that he’d finally fucked off, but you don’t feel any semblance of a victory.
You walk into the lecture hall as per routine, halting when you don’t see Choso in his seat. Your eyes scour the rest of the room, only to find it lacking his maddening presence. Your shoulders go slack, almost in…disappointment?
You scowl, walking over to take your seat as you curse yourself for being upset that the bane of your existence is absent. You have no reason to be—in theory you should be jumping for joy.
The lecture goes as expected—clock ticking and low murmurs of other students, until the professor drops a bomb—a group project.
You hold your breath as names are called—each pair being randomized. You just pray that you’re paired with someone who’s not an ambitionless piece of shit. You’d hate to have to do the whole project by yourself—in an ideal world, you’ll get someone who will show up and do their half.
Oh.
Your jaw nearly drops when you and Choso’s names are being shouted in the same breath.
Logistically speaking, this is ideal—you know how good of a student he is. But you also know that currently, Choso isn’t amenable to working with you (not that you are either). Not to mention, he isn’t even here. Which means you’ll have to notify him yourself.
Why couldn’t that loser just go to a different university—or hell, even major in something else?
You spend what feels like hours combing through every corner of campus, hoping to track down your project partner—but he’s nowhere to be found. Agitation builds with every step. A big portion of your grade rides on this assignment, and this is when he decides to leave you alone? Figures.
Defeated, you finally head back to your dorm. And of course—because why not—there he is. Sitting casually on a picnic table outside the building, cigarette in hand.
You storm up to him, face pulled into a grimace—he doesn’t look at you, too preoccupied with trying to ignore you, nursing his nicotine addiction.
“Choso-“ you start, catching his attention. “We’ve been paired for a project.” your voice tinged with annoyance, he’d inconvenienced you after all.
He’s still ignoring you, breathing in a deep puff of smoke before blowing it away.
“Y’know what-“ you huff, snatching the burning cigarette from between his fingers, and stomping on it with your once pristine Mary Janes. “Stop smoking that shit and tell me you’ll do your half of the assignment, dickhead!” you nearly yell, your frustration palpable.
He doesn’t shout back—just gives you a worn, bored look. You can’t tell if it’s because of your behavior or because he’s out of a cigarette. He says nothing. Just watches, gaze occasionally sweeping around.
You stand there, knees weak as you take him in—his hair is free from those ridiculous twin buns, a simple band tee hugging the biceps you didn’t know he had, and his pale skin glistening with sweat from the beating sun. He looked (beautiful) different.
Your face burns, your chest rises and falls too fast, but that doesn’t justify the way he’s looking at you—calm, patient, almost unsettling. Like a parent waiting out a child’s tantrum.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk to you.” he finally responds, raising a brow, crossing his arms and leaning forwards against the table.
“You think I want to talk to you?” you laugh, bending down and planting your hands on the wood surface he’s leaning on—you crowd his space, face not far from his.
“All I need, is for you to work hard for a couple weeks, and then you can do whatever the fuck else it is that you do.” your voice drops to a low whisper, words mocking.
Choso scoffs, looking you up and down with a level of disappointment you’ve never seen before. It doesn’t feel right. It feels like you’re being scolded.
You hate it.
You don’t like admitting it, but Choso’s constant gentle attention used to be the best part of your days at school. It made you feel warm, your heart racing, your tummy fluttering. You looked forward to seeing him every day—even if it was just to tease him and watch how he always took it in stride.
Something about the way he’s looking at you now makes it feel as though you’ve made a mistake.
“You are far too old to be this rude, y’know-“ he says calmly. “I’ll do the project when you find the maturity to be nice for a change.” he grunts when he stands up, flicking your forehead with a small frown on his face, then walks away.
You snort. If anything, he was the one being immature! Refusing to participate in a project worth a large amount of your grade just because you upset him is ridiculous—right?
You swear you can feel steam blowing out of your ears. Who does he think he is? Why can’t he just go back to listening to your every whim—take your remarks lying down?
For the rest of the week, the two of you steer clear of each other, each pretending the project’s looming deadline isn’t creeping closer by the hour. You try to do it on your own, but a spiteful part of you keeps getting in the way—you refuse to let Choso benefit from your hard work.
It isn’t until a specific lecture that the professor checks in on everyone’s progress—most of the class claims they’re nearly finished or already done. As a result, the deadline gets pushed up so the class can move ahead.
You only have two days.
Your heart drops to your ass, your problematic situation is starting to feel a lot more real. You’re bouncing your knee, fidgeting with your pens, buzzing with anxiety for the remainder of the lesson—how the hell are you going to finish this on time?
Will you seriously have to grovel and beg the emo loser behind you for forgiveness?
No, that would be far too embarrassing.
“Are you seriously going to take an F because you can’t get over yourself?”
You flinch, that low baritone you know oh so well startling you. You feel the familiar heat rush to your cheeks, butterflies dancing in your stomach.
“Maybe if you’d just agreed to helping me out last week, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” you mutter, back still turned to him.
You hear Choso’s chair let out a creak as he stands, the sound cutting through the mostly empty room. You follow him with your eyes as he moves down the row toward the staircase—until your chest tightens. Instead of stepping up, he steps down… then turns, heading straight toward your seat.
“What’s your problem with me?” he asks from beside you, leaning back on the tables behind him.
What is your problem?
You stay silent, instead opting to stuff the rest of your shit inside of your tote bag as quickly as possible—avoiding the question that you don’t have an answer to.
“From what I recall, I haven’t done anything to you-“ he says cautiously, as to not provoke you. “So why?” he finishes, referring to your relentless cruel treatment.
You stand, growing increasingly uncomfortable as you’re being interrogated. You sling your bag over your shoulder, trying to scoot around him but he stops you—Choso’s no longer scrawny build blocks your path. The smell of cigarette smoke and woody cologne fills your senses the longer he stands in front of you.
“Fucking- move.” you huff, looking over his shoulder at the exit. You keep your gaze fixed on the door, unwilling to let him catch the flush spreading across your face.
“Got an assignment to finish or something?” he laughs—a real, genuine laugh.
You finally meet his eyes, blowing air into your cheeks as you watch him giggle at you. The Choso you know isn’t one for joking around—you being shocked isn’t far from the truth.
“I do, actually.” you flash him a mocking smile, stomping on his foot—he grunts in pain, budging just enough for you to sneak past him.
“And it’d be great if you could be useful and send over your half.” you sing-song over your shoulder in an attempt to act like you weren’t flustered by his earlier boldness.
“You have yet to be nice, so it’s not happening!” Choso shouts as you near the exit, eyes trained on your short skirt riding up your ass just the smallest bit.
You slam your door behind you, thankful that you don’t have a roommate to piss you off even further. You groan into your hands, kicking off your heels before face planting into your twin-sized bed.
Every muscle in your body is pulled taut, strung tight with tension like a bowstring. The stress of this past week is taking its toll—between Choso being particularly frustrating and the upcoming deadline of your shared project, you’re not sure you’ll ever relax.
Choso’s irritating question bounces around your skull as you reach for your laptop.
“What’s your problem with me?”
To be honest, you don’t have a clear cut answer. Sure, he has traits that are easy to be picked apart by the general public—he’s not very social, he’s super nerdy, and he has an unconventional way of self-expression, but he’s not mean like you are. He’s actually incredibly kindhearted, not that that’s new information to you…
You drop your train of thought once you remember what you’re supposed to be doing—the assignment. After about an hour of staring at a blank document, your brain starts thinking of ways to…unwind.
You cave, reaching into your bedside drawer and snatching your vibrator. You hike your skirt up your hips, pulling your panties down your legs—a sticky string of arousal clinging to them.
What’s got you so worked up?
You lay down, dragging the little bullet up the inside of your thighs to tease yourself. Bringing the instrument up to your oddly wet pussy, you let out a sigh of relief when the low buzz comes into contact with your clit.
Your legs twitch and your belly feels warm—every little vibration grants you relief from your stress. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back onto the pillows. You tweak your nipples through your shirt tentatively, still a little on edge about taking a break from your project.
Speaking of projects, your head flashes you images of a certain someone.
Your mind betrays you—all you can think of is him. Every breathy moan pulled from your lips is due to his tired eyes, his low voice, his newfound backbone…
He's on top of you, cock buried deep inside. He’s whispering in your ear, putting you in your place—light nibbles on your earlobe, all the way down to your throat-
The thought of him fucking the attitude out of you-
It doesn’t take you long to fall apart, cunt clamping down around nothing and back arching, finishing with a shy whisper of his name.
You let out a petulant whine, chucking your vibrator across the room with a little too much force. You wipe the bead of sweat from your forehead, breaths uneven—what the hell did you just get off to?
“What’s your problem with me?”
Suddenly your warm cheeks and increased heart rate made a lot more sense. If you thought you hated him before, then this new revelation might make you take him out back and shoot him for real.
Your problem is that you have a damn crush on him.
With just one day left, your anxiety is through the roof. You hadn’t managed to get anything done last night, due to an…indulgence of certain activities.
You’re late for your lecture, hurrying through the halls in a desperate attempt to make up for lost time—you’re keeping your eyes ahead, never glancing elsewhere. But some unspoken rule about not “running in the hallways” makes itself known when someone emerges from a small corridor to your left—slamming into your side.
“Shit- sorry about that.” strong arms steady you, grabbing a stray sheet of paper from the ground and handing it over.
Choso.
You freeze. Your pulse thunders in your ears, heat spreading throughout your entire body—you’re suddenly all too aware of last night’s discovery. You hesitantly take the paper from his outstretched hand, stuffing it into your bag.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling your fallen tank-top strap back on your bare shoulder.
He touched you.
You just look at him, unable to turn away. All your brain can manage is conjuring dirty thoughts—warmth and slick pooling in your panties.
“I- uhm—I should get to class,” you murmur, your once bold and sharp demeanor neutralized by recently uncovered feelings.
“So you can turn in the project you don’t have?” he teases, his tongue fiddling with his lip piercings.
His mouth.
“Y’know, if you just say something nice to me right now-“ he pauses, bringing a hand up to push some of his hair back—veins popping.
His hands.
“We can go to the library or one of our dorms and finish the project before midnight-“ he takes a deep breath. “I promise.”
“Are you serious?” you ask, eyebrow raised and lips twitching into a frown.
“C’mon, you can do it.” he urges, tone slightly teasing.
He said something similar in your dirty musings last night-
You just stare for what you imagine is over thirty seconds, contemplating his offer. Choso is willing to wait for your verdict it seems—considerate as ever. But there’s something humiliating in the way he treats you.
Why is he so patient with you?
Especially after all you’ve done to him, you find it hard to believe that all he wants is a kind word—like it’ll right all your wrongs.
“I- uhm-“ you cringe, the words foreign on your tongue. “I like your jewelry.” you swear you can feel your eye twitch, face flushed no doubt.
You get the widest grin in return, like he’d won a bet you didn’t know existed.
“Wasn’t so hard, right?”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
“Anddd she’s back.” Choso laughs, you have to seal your lips tight to avoid joining him.
“Library? My dorm, yours?” he asks, shifting on his feet, hands stuffed into his front pockets.
Is he nervous?
“Library. I don’t want you near my dorm.” your snappy attitude coming back, annoyed by his satisfaction at your…compliment.
“Alright.” his smile dropping just a smidge, starting to walk in front of you towards the library.
You follow, dragging your feet—the trip across campus feeling like forever and a day. At some point, you had matched Choso’s pace, walking silently beside him like a certain pull had pinned you there. It’s not that you wanted to share his space, but he’s undeniably magnetic.
Damn crush.
He doesn’t comment on it, but you swear you can see his lips tugged up in a knowing smirk.
Once the two of you reach your destination, you shuffle over to an empty table and take a seat. You had hoped Choso would take the seat across from you, but he plants his ass right next to you.
“Choso-“ you huff, taking your laptop from your bag and nearly slamming it on the table. “Can’t you sit over there?” you complain, gesturing to the empty chairs in front of you.
“You need to learn how to be in the same vicinity as people you don’t get along with, sweetheart.” he deadpans, the pet name no doubt a contradiction of your personality—a jab.
What he’s not aware of though, is that you don’t want him close to you for another reason—one you won’t say out loud.
You and Choso work as efficiently as possible—splitting tasks between each other. You’d read sources and take notes, then he’d put them into the slides and proofread everything. The both of you put aside any grudges to get the highest grade possible in the short time available.
It was weirdly intimate—in a way.
Only short exchanges of words, minimal hand brushing, no insults. Just a willingness to work together.
When Choso gets up to get the two of you coffee, you instinctively grab his wrist.
“Two sugars-“ you pause, his patient gaze sets on you as he waits for you to release his hand. “…please?” you can feel his pulse spike under your hand, his eyes widening.
“Yea-“ he nods, nibbling on his lower lip. “Of course.”
You slowly let go, shoulders slacking from the lack of contact. You can hear the keychains hanging from his belt jingle as he walks out the library—your eyes following him the whole way.
You let out a sigh of relief when you hear the door close, turning back towards your open laptop and drowning in your thoughts—unable to continue working after what you did.
There’s a heat growing in your lower belly that you can’t ignore. It’s uncomfortable. You clench your thighs—the result from your prolonged closeness with Choso remains sticky in the gusset of your panties.
You would have preferred to stay oblivious of your feelings, but your awful brain just had to let you know via your masturbation session the other night.
Why did he have to get so damn hot—still maintaining that agitatingly unbothered persona that you enjoy pushing the limits of?
Is there even a possibility that he feels the same?
There must be, considering all he needed to help you out was a single compliment. But then again, he could just be doing this to save his own grades.
That’s not like him, though.
You jolt when a large hand gently nudges your shoulder—waking you from your stupor.
“You alright?”
Your coffee is placed on the table to your right, Choso sits back down, body facing yours.
“I’m fine.” you respond, taking a sip of your drink—pleased to find he followed through with your request.
“Are you sure?” his eyes wander over the expanse of your face. “You look kind of flushed.”
Shit.
“I’m fine.” you snap, heart beating slightly faster at the possibility of him figuring you out.
“Okay…well the library closes in an hour so we might have to wrap this up at the dorms.”
You just nod, trying to ignore the terrifying prospect of being completely alone with him within the next hour.
For the remainder of your available time, you work as diligently as possible—although it proved to be difficult with the occasional foot nudge and low voice asking you annoying questions.
By the time the library is closing, you still have a decent amount of work to do. The both of you stand up in a comfortable silence, collecting your things; in agreement that you’ll return to his dorm.
You just follow Choso the whole way there, eyelids drooping and the occasional yawn. Neither of you speak, only a mutual understanding of each other’s moods.
Choso unlocks his door, gesturing you to walk inside first like the gentleman he is. You swat his hand away when he tries to set your bag down for you, a sigh of frustration leaving his lips when you prove to be as difficult as ever.
His dorm is small—what dorm isn’t, to be fair. He’s got a small L-shaped desk beside his twin bed and a narrow dresser by the door. There’s not a lot of seating options so you take the initiative to sit on his office chair, leaving him his bed.
The entire room reeks of smoke and his heady cologne—a scent that you’ve become accustomed to throughout the day, although still making your tummy flutter.
“Making yourself at home?” he asks, referring to the bold action of taking his chair.
“Let’s just finish this so I can sleep.” you tiredly mumble, laying your stuff out on his desk with zero finesse.
“Coffee didn’t help?” he questions, moving over to stand next to where you’re sitting. “Are you sure you’re not sick or something?”
Choso, much to your dismay, spins the chair around until you’re facing him—he looks at your red face, the bead of sweat dripping down your neck, your crossed legs. He reaches a hand up to your forehead, feeling for a fever but there isn’t one.
Are you..?
“Fuck off-“ you groan, swatting his hand away out of embarrassment. “Just finish the slides already.” you order, turning the chair back around and crossing your legs even tighter before getting to work.
“Yeah, of course.”
As Choso finishes the final slide, soft snores reach his ears—you’d fallen asleep, face first on his desk. The relentless grind of the day had no doubt worn you down. He checks the time-
It’s just before midnight; the two of you had done it.
Choso turns the project in, gently closing his laptop and standing up to close yours. He can’t help the smile that falls across his face as he watches you drool on the hardwood surface.
He much prefers you like this—no cruel remarks, no complaints, just peaceful snores.
“Cho-“
Huh?
It’s quiet, he almost doesn’t catch it—almost.
Is the girl he’s had a pathetic crush on since elementary moaning his name—in her sleep?
The same one who’d make fun of him in front of her friends? The same one who’d roll her eyes at him in the halls? The same one who’d made his heart warm with every prolonged glare?
He feels his dick stiffen in his jeans, heat pooling in his stomach.
Had you been flushed earlier because you were…horny? Because of him?
No, that can’t be right-
“Fuck, Cho-“
He can’t breathe.
Every single fiber of his being wants to reach out and touch you, but he knows he shouldn’t.
Choso also knows he can jerk off later, but…
He unbuckles his studded belt, unzips his pants and palms his cock through his boxers—guilt lingered with every squeeze, but your bare thighs and breathy moans are too enticing to ignore.
Boldly, Choso reaches out, brushing a stray piece of hair away to get a better view of your pretty face. You don’t stir, granting him the security to free his dick from his underwear and jerk off properly.
Your cheeks are still red, your face contorted in a pout—your thighs shift against each other every so often, followed by a quiet whimper.
He pumps his cock faster, his eyebrows furrowing while trying to hold in whimpers of his own. But only when he fails to keep one contained is when your eyes finally flutter.
“Shit-“ he huffs, turning from you and stuffing himself back inside his pants—still painfully hard.
“Choso?” you call, voice hushed.
You groan as you blink the sleep from your eyes, your back strained. Cringing, you uncross your legs, a wet trail leaking from your panties down to your mid thigh.
Once your vision is finally cleared, you see Choso standing next to you, hands suspiciously placed over his groin—his pants are barely zipped, his belt is undone, and a large unconcealable tent makes itself known.
Was he..?
The two of you just stare at each other, both feeling as if you’d been caught in the act—which, you had.
“I-“
“I-“
You both start at the same time, followed by more silence.
You move first, rolling the office chair forwards. You put your hands over his, pulling them away from his crotch—he lets you, a little bit confused, but willing nonetheless.
“What are you-“
“Shut up.”
You free his huge cock, just holding it in your fist for a moment, purely stunned.
Choso groans impatiently, hand finding its way into your hair and tugging you forward—gently, but still a tug.
You lock eyes with him as you take his swollen dick into your mouth with a loud hum. Your lips stretch around his sheer girth, you take him as deep as you can before you’re gagging—whatever your mouth doesn’t reach, you pump with your manicured hand.
“Oh- fuck-“
Choso whines.
A sound so dirty it makes your already uncomfortably wet cunt gush even more fluid down the insides of your thighs.
“Who- ngh- knew your mouth could be so- fuck- nice, sweetheart.” he teases, his hand in your hair guiding your head at an increasingly fast pace.
You smack his thigh, hard—not impressed with his snide comment. You’d complain aloud if you could, but your throat is…preoccupied.
“What?” he chokes on another moan before continuing. “Can’t handle a taste of your own- mfm- medicine?” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.
You’re not sure where he got this boldness, but then again, you’re pretty sure he was jerking off to you while you were asleep.
All you know is that his rough handling is exactly what you dreamed of.
Choso’s face is twisted with a victory when you don’t attempt to answer him in any way—you stay focused on choking him down.
Disgusting sounds of gagging, and wet slurping fill the room as he reminisces on all the times he’d imagined this.
Your pretty face looking up at him, all your bitchy comments and petty insults silenced by your victim’s thick cock.
He didn’t want to hurt you, not at all—he just wanted you to grow a little. Learn that not everybody is beneath you, rather, that it wouldn’t hurt you to be beneath him—literally.
Every time you hollow your cheeks around him, tears gathering in your eyes, Choso gets closer.
“Fuck- so pretty like this.”
You feel your pussy flutter at his praise, you double your efforts in a need to hear more—you swirl your tongue along the vein running from the base to the tip on the underside of his cock.
“Oh- gonna cum-“ he groans, his free hand reaching down to caress your strained jaw.
With just a few more rough thrusts to the back of your throat, he spills his milky seed deep inside.
Choso’s hips still, eyes clenched tight—he holds your nose flush to his pelvis as he lets out one final whimper. You claw for purchase at his thighs, your air supply dire.
He finally pulls out, giving your head a few rewarding pets. You gasp for air, some residue of his cum remains on your tongue—what didn’t go straight down your esophagus, that is.
“Swallow, sweetheart.” he coos, bending down to your level to watch you.
You gulp down the rest of his salty drizzle, flashing him your tongue once you’re sure it’s all gone.
“I knew you had the capacity to be a good girl.” he taunts, his cock already hardening again from your surprising obedience.
Choso lowers himself on his knees for comfort, height now equal to yours—he grabs the back of your head and kisses you.
You yelp into his mouth, letting him slide his tongue against yours. Your fists grab his shirt, pulling him closer once the initial shock dissipates.
Choso spreads your legs, creating a space for him—your cunt is now flush to his covered abs. You grind against them, leaving a wet spot on his tee. Choso can almost smell your arousal.
His hands slide up your thighs, reaching underneath your skirt until he reaches your sorry excuse for panties. He hooks his fingers onto the gusset and pulls them aside, exposing your pussy to the cold air.
“Touch me, Cho-“ you murmur against his lips.
You grab one of his hands, trying to move it towards your neglected heat—but his hand stays put. He’s far stronger than you, evidently.
“I asked you a question the other day-“ he starts, pulling away from your mouth. “Are you ready to answer it, sweetheart?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a small pout on your face as you’re trying to decipher what he’s referring to.
“What’s your problem with me?”
“I-“ you pause, contemplating your words.
You’d rather keep it to yourself—it’s humiliating, and completely outside your comfort zone. Apologies aren’t your thing, let alone trying to explain yourself. But the thought of him walking away, leaving you hot and bothered, is starting to chip away at your pride.
“I didn’t know, for a while at least-“ you start, your words hesitant—watching his face for any negative reaction, but there isn’t any, so you continue.
“You made me really angry-“
“Why?” he coaxes, rubbing small circles on your hips with his thumb.
“You make me-“ you stop again, fighting to get the words out. “I guess I had a crush on you, and I-“ you cringe, hiding your face in your hands.
“And I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I took it out on you instead.” you finally confess, never uncovering your face.
Your heart hammers against your ribs, heat rising to your face. The humiliation is suffocating. And what stings most is that you had to lower yourself like that in front of someone you hadn’t even respected until he put in the effort for your project.
You feel so damn guilty—and you know why. Your reasoning feels immature, almost childish, and you can’t ignore that. He didn’t deserve any of it—nothing you said or did. Especially given how patient he’s always been.
“Do you still have a crush on me?” he asks, a small laugh escaping despite trying to be serious.
“You already know the answer to that.” you groan, head tilting back into the chair.
“Yeah, I do-“ Choso laughs again, collecting slick from between your folds making you flinch. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking the juices from them and groans.
“Why don’t you apologize…and then I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart.” he leans forwards, prying your hands from your face to place a peck on your pouty lips.
“I’m sorry.” you say, not sincerely enough for Choso’s liking.
“Try again.”
“I’m so sorry, Cho-“ you whine quietly, holding his hands in your own. “Please, touch me.”
Choso easily scoops you up into his arms, plopping you down onto his small mattress. He crowds you, leaving wet smooches down your neck, occasionally biting down to make you hiss.
His large hands sneak under your tank-top, cupping your tits and squeezing.
Choso pulls your skirt and panties down together in a single hard tug, groaning when he gets a glimpse of your absolutely ruined cunt.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” he urges, running his fingers up and down your slit with a feather-light pressure.
Your hips buck, asking for more. You grab his hand and push it further against you.
“Use your words.”
You huff, spreading your legs wider before speaking.
“Need you inside-“
“Ask nicely.”
“Please fuck me, Cho.” you whine, reaching for his twitching dick—he snatches your hands and pins them to your chest.
“Oh- fuck!” you cry out when Choso sinks two fingers inside of you, curling them up into that spongy spot inside of you.
“Relax for me, pretty-“ he leans down again, peppering kisses on your face while he shrugs his pants off his hips. “Need to get you ready first.”
He fingers your pussy open slowly, scissoring his digits carefully—thumb rubbing your clit. Your moans are breathy, slowly relaxing and enjoying the pleasure you’re being given.
You pull Choso in for a needy kiss, fingers digging into the back of his scalp in a way that makes him whine. It’s slow, it’s intimate—both of your hearts beating out your chests as years of pent up frustration is finally resolved.
“Gonna fuck you now, yeah?” he murmurs against your open mouth, warning you before he pulls his hand from your cunt.
You just nod, whining a little at the loss of his fingers.
Choso sits back on his heels, stripping himself of his shirt and pants completely. You shamelessly ogle his bare chest, nearly drooling at the taper of his abs down to his v-line. Then he’s grabbing you by the ankle and pulling one of your legs up, up, up until it’s resting on his built shoulder—spreading you nice and wide.
You will your eyes to look at his face, slightly unnerved when you see an idea pop into his head—a sly grin crawling its way on his face.
“Wanna hear you say sorry more, baby.”
He wants to humiliate you. Again.
Choso pushes the first inch inside of you, you hiss at the delicious stretch. You grip his forearms from their place on your hips, preparing for him to sink himself deeper—but he doesn’t.
He looks at you, expectantly.
“Shit- m’sorry, Cho-“
Another inch.
“So so sorry-“
A couple more.
He's barely more than half way, but you’re already struggling to accommodate him. You huff, throwing your head back into his pillows—breathing in his scent.
“I’m sorry-“ you yelp as he forces the rest of himself inside, bottoming out with a whimper.
You feel like you're being split open—although it’s the least you deserve for your behavior, you suppose.
The rough sting lulls into a dull, pleasurable throb the longer Choso remains fully sheathed. The constant pressure on your cervix has you clamping down on him, hips wriggling in his hold. He waits for you to adjust, rubbing tight circles on your clit to loosen you up.
“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” a drunken smile on his lips, placing a wet kiss on your ankle.
He watches your eyes roll back into your skull with intent as he starts thrusting with a slow roll of his hips.
You're speechless. Just as he wanted.
“Barely even started- ngh- and you’re already gone, pretty?” his pace picks up, biting back groans as your pussy swallows him inside of you with a death grip.
“Maybe all you needed to act right, was my dick inside you, huh?” he taunts, getting his lick back for all the times you teased him.
You can’t even respond verbally—the harsh pounds to your deepest spots only leaves you whining, hands smacking the mattress. You’re simply overwhelmed—between Choso’s dirty musings and your cunt spread wide, you can only focus on the fast tightening of your lower tummy.
“Do you like- damn- being underneath me, sweetheart?” his hips slightly stuttering when your pussy flutters around him.
You’re close? Already?
“Mhmmm!” you nod frantically, your far daintier fingers reach down to flick your clit.
Choso lets you, simply because he wants to feel you fall apart around him. His hips slam into yours with a new fervor, chasing down your orgasm.
Your back arches, jaw unhinging in a silent cry, your pace on your clit turning to sticky slaps—you’re reaching for him, desperate to have him close.
Choso leans down, pushing your knee to your chest along with him. He bites down on your lower lip as you squeeze his cock hard—the coil in your belly snapping.
“Fuck- Cho!” you cry, shaking violently against him.
“Sooo good for me, sweetheart.” he coos, hips never letting up—constant slaps of skin resonate throughout the small room.
After a few more harsh thrusts you’re trying to push him away, the aftershocks of your orgasm verging into overstimulation.
“Can’t-“ you manage a weak protest, clawing at Choso’s shoulders.
“Shhh- gonna cum, don’t- ngh- worry-“ his breath hitching, whining into the crook of your neck.
With a few more deep nudges against your cervix, he stills—Choso fills you up with a barely concealed whine. He stays buried inside of you for a few moments, the both of you catching your breaths.
“You okay?” he asks, leaving a smooch on your cheek.
“Yeah-“
He pulls out, the both of you biting back groans at the loss. He holds you, watching his hot load drip out of your pulsing cunt. He didn’t know he could cum that much.
Choso reaches between your bodies, spreading your folds to take in the sight.
“God damn-“
“Hey, Cho?” you ask suddenly, scratching the base of his scalp.
“What’s up, baby?”
“Did you turn in the assignment on time?”
Choso chuckles, pecking your lips before making his way down to your cunt.
“Of course, I did-“ he pauses, licking a filthy stripe from the crevice of your ass all the way to your clit—cleaning up the mess he made. “Now, think you can be good again and let me make you cum another time?”
synopsis ꩜ the cute emo boy from your college is completely enamored with you and your pretty outfits, so when he hears you and your shitty boyfriend finally broke up, he wastes no time in planning how to make you his.
pairing ˎˊ˗ emo! choso x girly! reader
warning / tags ⟢ fem! reader, MDNI 18+, this will be a bit angsty, yuki is ooc here, cheating, miscommunication, friends to lovers, inappropriate use of drum sticks, blowjobs, pussy eating, hair pulling, subby choso, he has a prince albert, yes he will whimper, fluff, tba…
the glow from choso’s dual monitors bathes the whole room in soft blue-white light, making everything feel a little dreamy and unreal past midnight. his desk is a cozy chaos of mechanical keyboard clacks, empty energy drink cans, scattered sticky notes with pseudocode scribbles, and the faint hum of his pc fans working overtime. midterm in forty-eight hours. algorithms and data structures. he’s been muttering about red-black trees and avl rotations since dinner like some secret code.
you’d slipped in quietly a bit ago, carrying his favorite oversized mug (the one that says “error 404 coffee not found” at the bottom in pixel font—you bought it for him as a joke as a joke but now it’s sacred). black coffee this time, no sugar, because he’s in deep focus mode and anything sweet makes him twitchy.
“special delivery for the future senior software engineer,” you whisper, leaning over his shoulder to set it down without blocking his view of the leetcode tab.
he doesn’t look away from the screen, but his left hand immediately finds your wrist with a gentle, familiar tug.
“stay,” he mumbles, voice rough from hours of quiet concentration. “you’re distracting me less when you’re here.”
you huff a tiny laugh. “that’s backwards logic, cho.”
“it’s perfect logic. if you’re here with me i won’t get distracted wondering what you’re up to,” he scoots the chair back just enough, pats his thigh once. “c’mere, pretty.”
you don’t even pretend to argue anymore. you let him pull you onto his lap, your back tucked against his chest, bare legs swinging off either side of his lap lazily. you’re wearing nothing but one of his giant faded cs department hoodies, and soft cotton panties with little strawberries on them. cute, but definitely not meant to be on display like this. still, you didn’t care much, since your dear roommate has seen you in much less in the two years you’ve lived together.
he wraps his right arm loosely around your waist to keep you steady, chin hooking over your shoulder so he can still see both screens. left hand returns to the keyboard for a second—types a quick comment in his notes file—then drops.
right between your thighs.
his broad palm cups you through the cotton like it’s just another place to rest. warm. steady. completely thoughtless.
you go still, expecting him to notice. expecting it to be a small slip up that he swiftly moves away from.
he doesn’t.
but his fingers twitch once in an absentminded little flex. then his middle finger starts the slowest, laziest drag up the center seam of the soft fabric and your breath snags in your throat.
he keeps scrolling through his code. mutters something about “balancing factor negative two” under his breath, and you realise he’s probably very much unaware of what his hand is up to.
another drag, slower this time. back down, then up again. the pad of his finger catches right over your clit and lingers in tiny, mindless circles. the exact same absent motion he does when he’s thinking hard and rolling the scroll wheel on his mouse, or tapping his spacebar rhythmically.
your thighs quiver. “choso…?” your voice comes out so small it’s embarrassing, but you figure you should probably bring it to his attention.
“hm?” he tilts his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear by accident, but not dropping his attention from his screens. “you okay?”
no. you are so far from okay.
because now he’s switched directions—tiny figure-eights. soft and so so consistent. like he’s doodling in the margins of his notes but the margin is your poor, already-swollen clit. every loop sends little sparks shooting through you, makes your hips give these helpless micro-twitches he doesn’t seem to register as you bite your lips in hopes of holding back any sounds you may make.
he reaches for his coffee with his right hand. he takes a slow sip, hums in approval, and promptly sets it back down.
the circles from his left hand get a fraction tighter, though. then looser again. then he adds the lightest side-to-side brush with two fingers, trapping the sensitive bud between them and just… petting. slow drags. back and forth. tap, tap tap.
a tiny, broken whimper escapes past your teeth. it’s quiet and small, but still enough for him to pause his typing for half a second.
“…cold?” he asks softly, voice all gentle and concerned and almost adorably clueless.
you shake your head, fearing that speaking may release the moan that’s been building in your chest under his stupidly perfect fingers.
“mm. good.” he presses the quickest kiss to your temple—barely there—then goes right back to typing out a recursive function call.
the kisses, the nicknames, those were all things you had gotten used to over the past two years. in fact, he probably picked all of that up from you. this first few times you called him “cho” or “baby” absentmindedly, he’d nearly short circuited. and when he realised you were much touchier than he first suspected, he nearly died on the spot. so he adapted, awkward at first but soon he did all the casual affection stuff without second thought.
but no matter how affectionate he was or you were, there was a line you never crossed.
so did this feel wrong? somewhat. did it feel good? well… yes. were you secretly hoping he’d just keep going? most definitely.
still, his fingers keep playing.
you’re soaked through by now. the cotton’s dark and clinging, and every time he drags over the wet patch there’s this faint, slick little sound that makes your whole face burn. he doesn’t comment. doesn’t even glance down. just keeps fidgeting. keeps treating your throbbing clit like it’s his favorite plush keychain he can roll between his fingers when his brain needs a second to think.
your hands clutch at his forearm. nails pressing little half-moons into his skin, but that only seems to spur him on even more.
“cho—please—”
“one more case study,” he promises in that low, distracted murmur. “then i’ll take a real break. we can watch something stupid. or nap. whatever you want.”
you can’t answer. can only nod shakily and turn your head enough to bury your face in the crook of his neck. your legs are trembling so hard the chair makes tiny creaks. you’re dripping onto the front of his sweats now—making a warm, embarrassing mess—and he still hasn’t noticed. or maybe he has and he just doesn’t care. either way, he keeps that slow, endless rhythm while he does whatever he does.
another tight little circle, and this time your hips buck before you can stop them.
he makes a soft, instinctive soothing noise—the same one he uses when you’re anxious about something dumb like a group project deadline. his arm around your waist tightens, holding you snug while his fingers never falter.
“easy, sweetheart,” he whispers against your hair. “so fidgety today.”
he’s one to talk.
finally, after what feels like three eternities, he leans back a fraction and stretches his neck. and, at last, he glances down at his lap like he’s just now remembering you’re there.
his eyes catch on his own hand. still cupping you and rubbing slow, lazy loops over the soaked cotton. still glistening a little from how wet you’ve gotten.
“…oh.”
the word is quiet. surprised. almost scientifically curious.
but he doesn’t move his hand away.
instead he watches—mildly fascinated—as his thumb brushes once. deliberate, slooow. your whole body jolts with a pathetic little sob.
he blinks slowly and tilts his head. “been doing that the whole time?” he asks, voice soft and wondering.
you nod, cheeks on fire. “u-um… yes.”
“shit. sorry.” but he doesn’t sound sorry. his voice has gone all low and rough around the edges. thumb strokes again—firmer—and your back arches off his chest. “didn’t realize.”
“‘s fine…”
except now he’s studying you now the same way he studies his code. attentive. like you’re the most interesting bug he’s found all night.
his fingers flex—just barely— to add more pressure and then he’s circling again in tiny, perfect loops that make your thighs shake and your breath hitch in needy gasps.
“feels good?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear.
you can only whimper and nod frantically. it seems that’s all you can do at this point.
he smiles against your skin—small, sweet, tired.
“good.”
and then—casual as anything—he turns back to his screen. right hand finding the mouse again and scrolling through another chunk of code.
left hand still between your legs and treating your poor, puffy, oversensitive clit like the cutest little stress toy he’s ever absentmindedly played with while debugging.
you press your face harder into his neck to muffle the tiny, desperate sounds leaking out of you. your whole body is trembling. so close it hurts. and he’s not even trying—just fidgeting and using you to think better while he works.
“few more minutes,” he promises in a whisper, kissing the top of your head. “then i’m all yours, baby.”
the minutes drag on and on. five more, he said. maybe ten. you lose track because every slow circle of his fingers makes time feel unreal, the ends of your limbs feeling like static. your breathing is all shallow little pants against his neck, thighs trembling, clit so puffy and sensitive under the wet cotton that even the lightest brush makes stars burst behind your eyelids.
but finally, the clicking of his keyboard stops.
his right hand lifts from the mouse. stretches once. cracks his knuckles absentmindedly after putting the monitors to sleep.
then both hands are on you.
one slides up under the hoodie, warm palm resting on your stomach while the other cups your hip carefully. like he’s handling something fragile he’s only just now realizing is precious.
“hey,” he murmurs, voice low and a little rougher than before. “said i’d take a break.”
you make a tiny, shaky sound that isn’t quite a word.
he chuckles—soft, almost shy—and the sound vibrates through his chest into your back.
before you can process it, he’s lifting you. easy, like you weigh nothing to the muscles he keeps hidden under baggy shirts. he turns the chair a little so it faces the desk more directly, then stands just long enough to maneuver you onto the edge of the desk. your butt settles right on the smooth wood, legs dangling off. his textbooks and sticky notes get gently pushed aside with one forearm so there’s room for you.
he sits right back down in his chair and scoots forward until his knees knock against the desk’s legs, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. his hands rest on your thighs—big, warm, a little hesitant now that he’s actually looking.
his eyes drop.
the cute strawberry panties are ruined, soaked dark in the center, clinging to every fold enticingly. the cotton outlines your swollen clit perfectly—puffy and flushed, peeking against the thing fabric like it’s begging for more attention even though it’s already been toyed with for so long.
and choso stares like he’s never seen anything like it before. which, outside of porn, he hasn’t.
his cheeks flush a deep pink that creeps all the way to his ears. he swallows hard. adam’s apple bobbing. “oh,” he breathes. barely audible. “that’s… you’re so…”
he trails off, unable to find the word. just stares some more.
one hand lifts carefully like he’s afraid of breaking you, letting his fingertips brush the damp cotton right over your mound. feather-light until you twitch. a tiny, helpless jerk that makes him freeze.
“sorry—did that hurt?” his voice is all soft panic. eyes flicking up to yours, wide and worried.
you shake your head fast. “n-no. feels… good. just… sensitive.”
he nods slowly, as if to process it. then his fingers return, gentler this time. he traces the edge of the wet fabric with one fingertip, exploring, and follows the seam where it clings to your outer lips. then up again. over the little swollen bud that’s practically throbbing under his gaze.
when you whimper he makes a tiny, involuntary sound in the back of his throat. something between awe and hunger.
“can i…?” he hesitates. glances up again. cheeks still burning. “can i see? properly? please, i promise ill be careful.”
your heart does a ridiculous flip. your eyes nearly twitch too, because how could he possibly say something like that and expect you to act normal.
“shit, y-yes, cho. you can.”
his fingers hook under the waistban and he tugs them down slowly, clumsily. the waistband catches on your knees and his cheeks go bright pink when you giggle at his fumbling. but he get the hang of it, careful as he slips the the rest of the way down, like he’s unwrapping something delicate. the cotton peels away with a soft, wet sound that makes him bite his lip.
and then you’re bare.
spread on the edge of his desk.
glistening. puffy folds parted just enough to show how swollen and slick you are. your clit sits there, flushed and shiny, peeking out like it’s been waiting for him to finally look.
choso exhales shakily.
“fuck,” he whispers, the first time you’ve heard him curse all night. his hands hover for a second, like he doesn’t know where to put them, before they settle on the insides of your thighs. thumbs brushing the sensitive skin there. spreading you just a tiny bit more.
he leans in closer. close enough that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over you as he breathes you in.
his eyes are huge when they glance back up at you, pupils blown with fascination.
“it’s so… pretty,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “so… swollen. did i do that?”
you nod. “y-yeah.”
he swallows again. hard.
one thumb moves tentatively and brushes the very tip of your clit. the lightest touch possible, yet it’s enough to make your hips jolt.
he pulls back instantly. “sorry—sorry—”
“no, it’s good,” you let out a breathy chuckle, forcing yourself to relax. “please—don’t stop.”
he hesitates, but ultimately tries again. slower this time, to make sure he’s doing it right. thumb pad circling the hood—clumsy at first, too light, then a little firmer when you let out a needy whine and he feels you throb. he watches every tiny twitch of your body like it’s the most important data he’s ever collected.
his other hand slides up, index and middle finger spreading your folds gently to open you more. exposing everything to his curious gaze.
he stares at your entrance now—how it flutters just from being watched and having your little clit played with, how droplet of your slick pool before sliding down.
“you’re so wet,” he murmurs. voice cracking a little. “is that… normal? i mean—did i…?”
“yeah,” you breathe. “because of you, ‘s a good thing.”
his blush deepens impossibly, but he doesn’t look away. instead he leans closer. nose almost brushing you. just… breathing you in again, like he’s trying to memorize the heady scent.
then his tongue darts out hesitantly, delivering a quick little kitten lick right over your clit. its over just as quickly, glancing up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction.
you had let out another sweet whimper, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you sucked in another breath.
his eyes widen, a little panicked because he can’t quite tell if that was a sound of pain or pleasure. “was that bad? i’m sorry i didn’t ask—”
“good,” you manage. voice wrecked. “so, so good. please—again?”
he exhales, relieved.
then he does it again. slower this time. flat of his tongue dragging up the whole length of your slit—clumsy, eager, a little messy. he groans softly against you at the taste, the sound vibrates right through your core.
his hands grip your thighs tighter. holding you open while he explores. licking in broad, uncertain stripes. then focusing on your clit again—tiny flicks. then slow circles with the tip of his tongue. he’s not good at it yet. too eager. too uncoordinated. sometimes he misses the spot entirely and has to adjust. but every time he finds it—every time he gets that perfect drag—your fingers curl further into his hair and he doubles down.
“like this?” he asks between licks, voice muffled against your sopping heat, head bracketed by your trembling thighs.
“y-yes—exactly like that—”
he hums, pleased, and goes back to it with renewed focus. clumsy but so earnest, trying so hard because he just want to make you feel good. sucking gently—too hard at first, but he adjusts when you give his hair a tug. it’s clear he’s a quick learner, repeating things that draw out the prettiest sound from you or have your thighs clenching, your cunt like the most complicated, beautiful problem he’s ever wanted to solve.
his fingers stay busy too—thumb brushing your entrance now. not pushing in. just circling to feel how you clench around nothing. how you drip down his chin.
he pulls back just enough to look again. lips shiny as he licks them, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and wide, fluttering whenever you tug again.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispers his revelation. “i didn’t know it could look like this. feel like this.”
“keep going,” you beg. “please, cho—don’t stop.”
he wouldn’t even dream of stopping.
he dives back in—messier now. hungrier. still clumsy. still learning and adjusting, but so focused on you that everything else fades away.
the monitors behind him keep glowing. code still open. midterm still waiting. not to mention the very significant tent in his sweats.
none of it matters anymore.
not when he’s got his face buried between your thighs like it’s the only thing he wants to study for the rest of the night.
Synopsis. Name: Choso Kamo.
Age: 23
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris AKA puppyboy.
Diagnosis: He’s in rut, and who does he need? His pretty owner—you!
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, dog hybrid!Choso, hybrids AU, puppyboy!Choso, RÚTS, pheromones, sheIters, companionship programs, hybrid parks, COLLARS, Ieashes, he Iikes it (a Iot), tail wagging, possessive Choso, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘ma’am’, PÚSSYDRÚNK Choso, first tímes (Choso), oraI (f + brief m), spítting, teaching, manhandIing, he’s just so DESPERATE to pIease you, p worship, pánty-steaIing, stepping on him, finishing early (him), stamina, fíngering, begging, asking for permission, overstímuIation, p sniffing, he’s GONE, Choso with tattoos, ríding him stupid, he’s BlG, making it fit, feeIing for it, cervíx smoochin, BIG stretches, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, miIking him, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, mátes, bonding bites, KNOTS, implied marathons, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.4k
A/N. Mwahahah you babygirls asked so daddy provides…
The forums online told you there was nothing to worry about.
Each with their smooth, structured message boards and those advertisements for the country’s best hybrid supplements (‘Buy your companion these chew-safe sweaters NOW!’); and their respective hybrid owners each with queries quite similar to your own.
“Hybrid has started taking my clothes [URGENT]!”
“Is my hybrid sick? Clothes disappearing, feverish, etc…”
“How do your hybrids let you know if they aren’t feeling good?”
To the symptoms that most-closely aligned with your own canine hybrid’s, the most popular conclusion by the panel of amateurs was that they were likely feeling the effects of the changing seasons. Hybrids, particularly purebreds, were more susceptible to heat and weather than humans like yourself.
And so you’d forgone the call to your hybrid specialist, Dr. Shoko, for now—in favor of helping Choso keep cool as much as possible, and supporting him through these motions.
Until today: when you’re folding your laundry and realizing that half your underwear drawer was missing.
As you’re opening up the rickety wooden drawer even further, it clatters mockingly up at you. At your flabbergasted expression—you were sure it’d been at least a third more full the last time you opened it up. At the way you’re bending down and peering in, as if expecting to see the rest of your panties and bras somehow hidden away inside.
Nothing.
You shut the drawer and straighten up silently.
The rest of your laundry sits idly at the foot of your bed, though the last thing on your mind was attempting to finish your folding. You don’t think you could’ve succeeded in doing so even if you tried.
Because you already know who did this.
Hell- there was only one other person living in your snug Tokyo apartment. It would be impossible not to be him.
Your roommate of five months.
Your hybrid.
The ever-nervous, ever-sweet, ever-handsome Choso Kamo.
You remember the day you got him as if it was yesterday: that phone call that changed everything. The massive hybrid shelter in your neighborhood had been holding an adoption program; in which humans could sign up to be caretakers and companions for hybrids freed from large-scale mills and facilities that raced to churn out the most purebred hybrids. All shapes and species—from the deep underbelly of having a society where humans and hybrids co-existed.
Mostly temporarily, of course - until the hybrids chose to pursue jobs, education, and whatever else it is that they wanted to do.
Tokyo JSH (Jujutsu Shelter for Hybrids) wasn’t just a simple rescue operation; but their territories spanned far and wide from medical facilities, to rehabilitation, to temporary homes, to this current matching program that let the public get a more hands-on method to volunteer. Led by Ieri Shoko - a caracal hybrid herself - it was one of the most famed for their sheer number of hybrids taken in and reassimilated into society. You yourself had volunteered for JSH on a few occasions.
And having a soft spot for hybrids, you barely thought twice before signing up for this new program.
The registration process had been long and tedious - though you didn’t blame them. Columns upon columns of forms to fill out. Towers upon towers of medical checks for you yourself. They investigated your apartment, they investigated your job, they investigated your personality and ability to house a troubled hybrid temporarily—until they could get back on their feet.
And even longer than the registration process had been the waiting process.
It’d been months- almost a year before you heard back from the shelter - and by then, you’d begun to think that perhaps they hadn’t found you suitable after all. But then…then it’d happened.
Then you’d been rung by none other than Dr. Ieri Shoko herself.
The fuzzy-eared doctor had asked you to come into the shelter the very next day, if you were still up to it- and of course, you were up to it!
Spiffed and spruced. Smoothing down your best outfit - for you did want to give a good first impression - you were outside the doors to Tokyo JSH before they’d even been unlocked. The teenage employee in charge of opening those double doors had shot you a strange look as you waited patiently for them, but that didn’t matter—you were about to meet your newest roommate.
Of course, you were aware that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies and- and whatever else the saturated infomercial playing on loop inside the shelter lobby showed. But at the very least, you hoped by the end of this, you’d be making a lifelong friend out of this - to help someone without expecting anything back…if not a friend then you hoped you’d at least be making a change. And that’s why you were here.
Dr. Shoko had entered the shelter not too long after the infomercial’s 50th loop.
She seemed somewhat surprised to see you here so early - no doubt the first volunteer she was seeing for the day - though her effortlessly composed features didn’t betray a thing. You, however, were feeling a churning amalgamation of nervousness and excitement that you’re sure showed.
Though she was kind enough not to point it out, “You’re here early.” And with that, you were being led to the separate patients’ ward.
The air was thick with saline and tension—and the acrid smell of adrenaline. Bed after bed. Each one had their white curtains drawn, and out of respect you didn’t dare peek inside - instead you kept your eyes fixed firmly on where you were going.
So much so that once Shoko stopped in her tracks, you almost bumped into her back.
Hastily, you looked up to find that…this, too, was a bed obscured by thick white curtains. Only, that was where the similarities between this hybrid and the others stopped: lost in your whirlwind of thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoko had led you to the sole bed at the end of the hallway - the one at least twenty-five meters away from all the other hybrid patients.
Solitary. Silent—no hums or growls that emanated from beyond the opaque partitions.
Sectioned off, almost.
It made you wonder just what sort of hybrid - you looked at the chart hung up at the foot of the bed - Choso Kamo would be.
According to the other notes on the chart, they were a dog hybrid like most of the others here—Canis lupus familiaris. And to be more specific, Choso was said to be a Great Dane.
And though you had better manners than to engross yourself in someone else’s medical chart, you couldn’t stop your eyes from wanting to read even further. Quickly finding out other such details like his gender, his age, his height (6’4 was to be expected as a Great Dane hybrid…but nonetheless absolutely massive), and even his rescue from-
“An underground fighting ring.” Shoko told you in a measured tone, and you’d picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to disturb the hybrid inside those curtains. “It’s not often that we’re able to rescue hybrids from fighting rings- alive, that is. Though they remain our toughest problem.”
Your mouth felt parched, “I…I see.”
“This hybrid was lucky—he was said to be their top fighter. But no one lasts long in an underground fighting ring.” She looked at you solemnly, “No one. And before we proceed, I need you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. I know how much you love helping hybrids - I’ve seen you ‘round here almost every week - but I need you to understand that Choso might not be the easiest companion.”
You nodded seriously.
“It’ll take him some time- and on some occasions he might even lash out.” Shoko gestured to the other beds - namely the distance between them. “We’ve had to separate him from the other hybrids as well.”
You looked from them and back, “But surely he’s not dangerous-”
“No.” She shook her head, “He’s hurt. He’s powerful. But most of all, he’s highly intelligent.” Her ears twitch, and there’s a small quirk at the edge of her painted lips, as though a smile—“All he needs is some love and care, and someone kind enough to wait for him…which is exactly why I chose you.”
And how could you not help Choso Kamo after that?
So she’d peeled back the curtains and oh…and inside had been perhaps one of the largest hybrids you’ve ever seen. One of the most magnificent.
Even for a purebred, Choso’s drooping ears were covered in the darkest, glossiest coating of chestnut brown. They’d perked up even before you’d entered - no doubt hearing every single nervous breath you were trying to regulate - and they stayed on alert even as he caught sight of you. His sharp canines made an appearance. His powerful tail whipped.
And yet, even with his features twisted into something unwelcoming, you found the wind knocked out of you at the utter beauty of his features.
They were prominent and pretty. As though carved by the most delicate of hands: those slightly downturned eyes of his, the pertness of his mouth, those high cheekbones.
There was a glint of something unforgiving in the depths of his chocolate irises, however, as though weathered through the years. Something honed.
Sitting up on his bed, his gaze narrowed as you entered his space- and a slightly feral growl had left Choso’s lips. His toned body was naked beneath the clinical blankets, and he gripped them as if he was ready to fling them off and attack-
You slowly took a step backwards - something other than fear. You understood how it felt to want to be alone for some time.
And sitting on the empty bed beside him, you waited in silence as he realized you weren’t here to attack—and leaned back into his crisp mattress. Though he still looked slightly wary of you, you didn’t hesitate before introducing yourself and launching into a conversation - rather one-sided at the time, but a conversation nonetheless.
Shoko had smiled and left the two of you alone for now. Meanwhile you spoke of your day, your job, the weather outside and- did he like the food here? What were his favorite foods?
Despite the fact that Choso didn’t answer a single one of your gentle questions, you weren’t deterred. And it wasn’t long before you’d looked up at the clock on the end of the hallway—and realized that it was nearly past visiting hours. Choso himself had seemingly come to the same conclusion, as he watched your eyes drift back to him.
And you’d only had one more question left for him.
“Do you want to come with me?”
And he’d given you a single, short answer—in a deep baritone that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in years. “Yes.”
From then on it’d been a short few hours of paperwork - much shorter than your initial registration - to get Choso officially situated in your apartments. In a week’s time he was discharged from JSH and gathering his sparse belongings (nothing but a broken collar) to move in with you in your Tokyo nook.
Your first outing together had been to buy him all sorts of new clothes and necessities and a collar - something that you didn’t think Choso would like. But Shoko had recommended you get one, just in case.
And so there had been a pretty, pink-colored collar with your name on it—fitted to Choso’s size—jostling around at the bottom of your shopping bags as you dragged the Great Dane hybrid from store to specialized hybrid store.
The first day had been a little awkward…you introduced Choso to the guest’s bedroom that was now all his - and he’d locked himself in there for about two days. Only coming out once he’d completely and fully immersed himself inside, once he’d finally gotten used to the sense of a place—a place that was his own.
Following had been a blurred few weeks of attempting to get used to one another in this limited space. Choso himself wasn’t all that bad of a roommate, to be honest - he’d spoken to you in bits and pieces whenever he felt like it, gathering up after himself, and letting you know whenever he liked your cooking. And you scoured for these interactions like a man in search of an oasis in the desert, after prolonged summer after summer, after prolonged heatwave after heatwave.
You weren’t even sure why you were drawn to him so much- sure, Choso Kamo was one attractive being. Especially when he was walking around the apartment after a shower, in nothing but a slightly-dampened towel…
But more than that—he was just so damn sweet.
You came to understand that the more you found out about him.
It started off small: the charred attempt at preparing breakfast for you in the second week he was here, the shy way he’d tug at your collar - despite being such an intimidating size - whenever he encountered another dog hybrid in public. He followed you around everywhere—everywhere. He waited right outside the door for you whenever you went to work.
And come to find that…Choso wasn’t the strong, seethingly silent type you’d initially assumed at all. He was smart. He was funny. He was such a sweetheart.
Soon enough, once he’d opened up to you in the coming months, you’d come to find that Choso actually loved sappy romance movies (and he cried at the end every time), Choso loved making little treats for you whenever you were down, Choso loved cuddlin’ up to after a long day at work. Perhaps it was unconditionally true what they say about Great Danes being ‘gentle giants’ - because Choso Kamo was the gentlest giant of them all.
And after five months, the two of you were what you could honestly consider good rommates—good friends, actually. Though the housing situation was meant to be temporary until the hybrid was able to get a place of their own - and/ or wanted to - you could honestly see yourself living with Choso for the rest of time.
Who would have thought?
Though the collar still sat collecting on one of your cabinets. You hadn’t brought it up, and Choso - despite eying it from time to time - hadn’t asked, either.
Everything had been perfect—that is, until about a few weeks ago when your clothes had started disappearing.
It started off with a jacket here, a bracelet there, and then something you couldn’t ignore - an ugly Christmas sweater from the last holidays (that you honestly weren’t upset to see go). And you could’ve let it slide had it been limited to these souvenirs that you wouldn’t mind never having to think of ever again.
But your underwear?
Not only was it your underwear, but it was about half your entire drawer? Perhaps even more so? All those lacy black numbers n’ those matching sets, all those expensive lingerie you’d treated yourself to and even a few of those grandma panties with holes in them- you couldn’t help but wonder just what your hybrid needed these for…
Nesting wasn’t as common for dog hybrids, right? Besides, Choso had a perfectly comfortable bed that you knew he loved and adored.
To be honest, there was one person in the forums who’d suggested that perhaps those aforementioned hybrids were veering into ruts and heats- though, they’d gotten downvoted to hell.
And though you’d considered the possibility…that certainly wasn’t the case this time, right?
You’d read up on the matter prior to meeting Choso, and you knew that that particular period occurred every two to three months for a hybrid. But in the five months since getting to know him, and since worming your way into his good graces, Choso had never shown any indication of a rut.
Not even the slightest glimpse of it.
And that was certainly alright - some hybrids simply didn’t have certain proclivities, or perhaps their pheromones didn’t overtake them as such. But your question remained: if Choso hadn’t started his rut then, why would it start now? There must be another explanation, surely.
And so you’re still mulling over the possibilities as you’re trudging your way to him- knock-knock-knocking on the door to his bedroom. Choso opens the door instantly - as he always did when it came to you - and you’re somewhat taken aback at the sudden…shirtlessness that you’re bestowed with.
Clearly fresh out of the shower.
With his long hair untied, wet tips reaching his broad shoulders- with glistening droplets of water slipping down his hairline and down the middle of his chest. With a tattooed No. 1 on the sculptured ridges of his right v-line. With his toned chest slightly panting—at the sight of you.
Choso’s flushed lips part-
“Cho…” At the sound of your voice uttering his cute nickname, Choso’s long tail immediately starts wagging. And you’re finding it hard to keep the sternness in your voice, “I didn’t disturb you, did I? I just wanted to ask whether you wouldn’t happen to know where my erm- underwear disappeared, would you?”
And at that- his eyes go slightly wide. “U-underwear?”
And you’d almost have been fooled by the innocent blush that spread across his cheeks…if it wasn’t so damning, that is. “Yes. Underwear, Cho. Where is it?”
“And you’re asking me—?” He pleads.
“My panties didn’t just grow legs and walk, Choso.” You cross your arms with a sigh, “They’re not magical.”
“…I think you’re magical.”
Somewhat catching you off-guard—“You can’t just-” And you feel something flip at the pit of your stomach, “Don’t think you’re going to wiggle your way out of this, okay? I need my underwear back before tomorrow- unless you want me to go to work pantyless-”
His canines slip out with a growl, muscles rippling as he shivers. “Never.”
“Then you better- return them.” You’re wagging your finger strictly at him, to which he lets a sheepish smile escape.
He places a hand on the top of the doorway - a gesture of nervousness, surely. “Y-yes, ma’am.” That little nickname you’d told him time and time again not to use—why so formal? But you can’t help but notice the bulge of his swole muscles, still dappled in the dampness of the shower.
And to hide the flip in your stomach - again - you’re sighing and looking away from the vision of Choso before you.
You could still hear the fervent wagging of his tail.
“Wanna go out for a wal-”
“Yes.”
.
.
.
“Okay- ready, Cho?” Slipping your shoes on, you turn towards the hybrid that stood at the edge of the threshold.
Choso was never the type to be leashed whenever the two of you went on walks - you suppose that came with his seeming distaste for the collar. He’d meander along beside you, and though you’d been nervous about losing him the first few times, Choso had proved himself to be loyal and steadfast by your side. Never wandering off too far, even when he was exploring in the hybrid park.
And right now—he was shuffling shyly. “Y-yes…”
You frown, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing-” He replies hastily, putting on his own shoes and getting ready to follow you out the door. But even so…his eyes drift beyond the threshold. “It’s just…”
“Hey…” You’re lowering your voice- and the tension bleeds out of his shoulders as you reach out and gently hold onto his arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”
And that’s what makes him finally muster up the courage- “I want to put on the collar, ma’am.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
And who were you to say no to that?
And it feels as if you’re walking on air as you go up to the cabinet and pull those glass doors open - taking out that pretty, pink collar you’d bought specifically for him. Slightly dust-bitten. Yet its heart-shaped pendant glimmers in the sunlight, your name etched onto there—Choso dons that name proudly as you’re fastening it onto his pale neck.
“Tell me if it’s too tight, alright?” Its metal buckle hisses coldly against his nearly-feverish skin: was he heating up?
That prominent Adam’s apple of his bobs- “Mhm…”
Before long, the two of you find yourselves walking down the summery pavement; it was a beautiful day and the balmy breeze kisses your cheeks. Clouds frothing. Birds twittering. You’re humming at the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin, contrasted by the unfamiliar coldness of that looped handle of the leash in your hands.
The thin, chain-linked length sways just a little—leading up, up, up to the collar wrapped around Choso’s throat. It lets off a metallic sound that melds with the bustling noises drifting from your local hybrid park - you hadn’t had Choso for long before you found out about this place.
And ever since about your second or so week with him, you’d been going there almost daily. With Choso being so naturally shy, it was a good place for him to make friends and interact with someone that wasn’t just you—and bit by bit, you’d gotten the privilege of seeing him open up. Hell, he even had a few regular friends there. And by now, he looked forward to the park just as much as you did- except…today, Choso was pulling back a bit.
Not as though he wanted to leave, but as though he always wanted to be half a step behind. No matter how much you slowed down your own pace for him.
“C’mon, Cho.” You’re gently pulling on the grip of his leash, and yet it doesn’t give away anything. “We’re a little late, your friends will be leaving soon.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Choso?” Your fist tightens around the leash.
He doesn’t budge a single inch—in fact, he seems to slow down even further.
“Choso, come on-”
And then he’s letting out the softest, sweetest sound that makes you stop directly in your tracks- “N-ngh—” Something so unexpected. That you can only turn around and stare at him.
Choso fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, eyes downturned- and yet, you’d be able to make out that cute blush of his anywhere.
You attempt to take a peek at his expression, “Something wrong? D’you wanna go home, Cho?”
He shakes his head. “N-no…” And the fidgeting with that metallic nub grows even faster, Choso’s feet shuffling on the smooth, grey sidewalk. “It’s just…keep going at your own pace, ma’am.”
“My own pace? But isn’t that a little too fast for you today?” You probe.
And he nods, “Yes…” Barely even a whisper, “Keep doing that- k-keep pulling on my leash.”
Electricity zaps down your spine at his tone- oh, his tone. Currents of it leaving your mind a little fuzzy, and curdling somewhere between…
Choso raises his nose up into the air to sniff— with his honed senses, and you couldn’t start tugging on his leash fast enough. “A-alright then.” You weren’t sure to exactly what degree his senses were honed, but you didn’t doubt he could smell even the wetness of your cunt - it’s exactly why you’d tampered down proddin’ away at yourself with your vibrator after he’d moved in.
And then he stalls so you pull once more-
“Fuck-”
And you look towards him instantly, “Shit- I’m sorry. Did I pull too hard, Cho?”
“No-” He shakes his head immediately, “No, not at all.”
The tighter it was, the better.
The air feels more humid than it had once been—so much thicker. It’s enough that you feel like you can finally breathe only once you catch sight of the hybrid park; those swooping slides and those green, open spaces. Slides and tunnels. Stores and pathways.
You’re reaching up to unclip his leash, and Choso lets out a sheepish smile as he stops you. “I-I want to keep the collar on, is that okay?”
You’re stunned. “That’s perfectly alright, Cho.” And so you watch his tall figure stalk towards his usual group of companions, your name sparkling on the pendant between his collarbones. Perhaps you should ask him about this sudden change, but…you decide not to push it for now - perhaps it was still the weather that still had him all out of sorts.
Deciding that you’d join him in playing just a little later - at least when your knees weren’t feeling as weak as they do right now - you sit down on one of the benches overlooking the park. It makes you smile to see Choso laugh and talk with his hybrid friends—such a stark difference from how he’d been when you first met him.
You were proud of him.
“Hey, Choso’s wearing a collar today?” A sudden voice makes you look up—and who else would it be but the ever-charming Kusakabe? You’d met the older man on your first visit to the hybrid park - and you were sure you’d been such a sight: awkward and standing by the edge of the park, a towering unleashed hybrid at your side, both of you unsure what to do.
He’d been the one to reach out to you first- asking you whether you wanted to join him and his smaller, more welcoming canine hybrid. That had been the first time that you’d seen Choso interact with another hybrid without bearing his fangs.
As a much more experienced hybrid owner than you, you admit that he’d helped you smoothen your journey as a new companion—vastly. All the best spots to eat here. All the hybrids to be steered clear of due to their aggressiveness. So it was practically routine to run into the dark-haired man during your days at the park, and so you flash him an easy smile. “He is, isn’t he? New development.”
“Pink. Looks good on him.” Kusakabe nods approvingly, arms crossed. “Everyday he surprises me.”
“Right?” And with a chuckle, you’re holding up the slender chainlink leash. “Though if he chooses to continue then I might just have to get something stronger…”
“Oh, I know just the place-” And Kusakabe sits down right next to you on the bench - thigh against thigh, arm against arm. You’re unable to say anything about anyone’s personal space before he’s pulling his phone out and gesturing for you to lean in—“There’s this shop downtown in Shinjuku I go to- the best discounts. It’s right beside the convenience store and the-”
And as soon as you blink, Kusakabe is ripped from his seat next to you.
And before you crouches Choso.
Though not as you know him. Not at all.
Choso bears his piercing canines and lets out a rumbling growl; muscles of his back shifting, body panting, claws protruding—and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was contorted into something of utter murder. And you weren’t sure whether this was just your imagination due to the tension of the incident…but did he seem somewhat…bigger? Veins popping. Back hulking. There was almost something…animalistic about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on- other than the fact that he was scarin’ off the others around you like a guard dog. He lets out another rumble of gnarled words and it’s enough to make every hair on your body raise.
“Stay away.” It’s about all you can make out.
You stand immediately, heart pounding. “Ch-Cho?” You reach towards him.
“Stay away.”
Was that really him?
He repeats.
And then he repeats again.
And he repeats and he repeats- as if crazed. Kusakabe pales and wastes no time creating some much-needed distance between himself and the hybrid.
He bumps into his own cowering hybrid.
“Choso-”
“Stay away from my mat-”
“Choso- enough.” And you finally manage to pull him back - he doesn’t even seem to register you beside him for a brief few seconds. Not until you force him to just fucking look at you—
And then - only then - do his claws retract, and the sharpness in his eyes fades just a little bit—turning into their usual chocolate-caramel brown once he turns them towards you. You look into his dilated peripherals and wonder whether he was really the same hybrid as just a few seconds before.
Choso Kamo could easily overpower you, but he’s pulled by your arms easily.
As you look around, you’re realizing that almost everyone in this vicinity of the park was staring at you. The hybrids nearby had their ears lowered. The owners were tugging on leashes of those same hybrids that refused to move- seconds away from danger and they were too afraid to move. Kusakabe himself was blindly reaching for his own companion. Hell, even the birds seemed to have stopped fluttering about—as though summer itself had been paused for this sudden feral coldness of your sweet Choso. You can’t help but let a shiver run through you as you imagine just what might have happened if you weren’t there to stop him.
Choso would have torn that man to shreds.
Without thinking twice, you loop a finger underneath his collar and pull him away- not even bothering with the leash anymore. Fuck…his skin was just feverish. “C’mon.”
And for the first few tugs, Choso doesn’t respond—doesn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the trembling Kusakabe. But then you’re saying his name once more, “Choso.” He jolts as though hit with a thousand volts of electricity- and you’re quickly pulling him out of the park. Not even a second glance at the mess you’ve left behind, “We’re going home.”
He quietly responds from beside you, “Yes ma’am.” In a voice so heated.
Collar tight on his neck.
Tight. Tight all throughout your speedy walk back home—even afterwards. And once you’re attempting to reach up and free him of that restraint- Choso flinches away from your hands faster than light.
Starin’ straight at you with his dazed, darkened brown eyes he holds the buckled lock of the collar and crushes it with his bare hands.
Crushes it so that it cannot be removed.
.
.
.
“I don’t know, Shoko….” Nervously gnawin’ on your lower lip, you pace the hallway outside Choso’s room. Her response comes out as languid and reassuring as ever- but you can’t help but cast a concerned look at the closed door. Locked. “He’s just never acted like this—”
“Aggressive?” Comes her question, “Why, it might just be because of the increasing temperatures that hybrids-”
“No, not just being aggressive.” You struggle to articulate, “It’s just he’s being so…”
Because it hadn’t been just the collar incident after you’d gotten home from the park. Almost immediately afterwards, Choso had rounded the room a few times- alert. Alarmed. For a second there, you almost thought he’d caught onto a whiff of something else entirely—before he’d grabbed one of the throw pillows on your couch and rubbed his swollen scent glands down its puffed surface.
Scenting.
Scenting was the act of coating an object, hybrid, or person in the pheromones of a hybrid; it’s said that they often feel more comfortable in a space if it reminds them of their own scent.
But to this extent?
You’d gotten used to Choso scenting the apartment during the first week of your cohabitating, but right now it was as if he was attempting to erase every single shred of evidence that anyone else had ever been inside this apartment.
No one but him. No one but you.
That laptop charger that your coworker had touched last week? He’s gliding the smooth surface down the side of his throat, and replacing that scent instantly. That cushion your friends had sat on the last time they visited? That hair tie you’d washed with a different shampoo than your usual? Even the damn jacket that Kusakabe had brushed up against on the park-
That one, in particular, Choso was ripping away the scent most fervently.
Until the apartment was saturated with his soft, sweetened vanilla scent.
It smelled like a bakery here.
Concerned, you’d attempted to then coax Choso into playtime- he refused. The first time he’d ever refused to spend quality time with you—not even when you’d pulled out his favorite axolotl toy. Thereafter he’d been draped across your living room couch for hours on end, panting, sickly; the only times he’d moved was to disappear into the bathroom every fifteen minutes. And each time he came out more and more feverish than before - flushed down to his chest, trembling just a little. Hands pressed between his thighs. What did that…
When you’d finally insisted that perhaps the two of you go see a doctor, he’d disappeared into his bedroom and refused to come out.
Not even when you’d knocked.
Not even when you’d called for dinner.
And you were two steps away from begging- but instead you’re regurgitating your woes to the ever-trustworthy Dr. Ieri Shoko.
She listens to your day silently.
“Now, I don’t want you to worry…” Of course, the only thing she was doing by being so evasive was making you worry. “-and this is just a suggestion, of course-”
“Anything.” You’re pleading, “Just- anything that’ll make him feel better.”
She hums, and even through the phone it sounds knowing. “Have you ever considered that…” Somewhere in the distance, your hallway clock tick-tick-ticks away—and it feels as though your stomach flips just in time with its clanging announcement of the hour. “-perhaps Choso might be in rut?”
Breathless, “What?”
You hear the flipping of pages - presumably notes - from her side of the call. “It seems that in our care, Choso Kamo was yet to experience a rut. And from what little information we were able to gather from his previous…accomodation, the same can be said for there.”
“I thought Choso couldn’t get ruts?” It’s surprising that your voice manages to be so steady.
“Perhaps so.” Shoko answers, “But that is merely a medical assumption.”
Your brows furrow, “W-what are you saying?”
And she sounds as sage as ever, “What I’m saying is that there is no evidence to suggest that Choso can experience a rut-” You’re just about to open your mouth in agreement. “-however, there is no experience to suggest the contrary, either.” More flipping pages—“For all we know, the lack of a rut period for this hybrid could be a result of the high-pressure environment that he’d been placed in since his mature years. We’ve certainly seen as much- though, I never did think that this would be such a case.”
And you just about can’t believe what you’re hearing—“Wait- so you’re saying that Choso can experience a rut…all because he’s finally feeling comfortable?”
“Safe, is the more likely option.” She corrects, “Though comfortable isn’t incorrect, either. As well as open, happy, attracted-”
You reel- “Attracted? To who—?”
There’s a slight pause.
“I might be no optometrist-” She deadpans, “-but rest assured that I’m not blind.”
A sudden rush of something in your veins—“A-and what can I do to help him through this…rut?”
“At this stage? Find him a mate.” Shoko answers, and there’s shuffling from the other end of the line. “Or be his mate.”
You’re speechless.
“Good luck!”
A tone rings. The call is over.
And you’re left alone in your Tokyo apartment- alone with the massive puppyboy that was in the throes of his rut.
The door feels taller - more intimidating - than you remember it being when it’d been nothing but an empty guest’s room. But now it had meaning to it…it had someone inside that you cared about. Cared about to an extent that perhaps you never thought you would—fuck. Before you know it, you’d been standing motionless outside Choso’s doorway for a few minutes.
And you’re sure he can smell your heady wetness from inside.
And once you’re jolting back to your senses, you realize that your legs had lugged you as clooooose to it as you can go - had already put a hand on the doorknob that you don’t remember putting there.
You twist it open.
And the wave of pheromones that hits you is enough to bring you to your knees.
The flurry of vanilla sweetness, of the sunshine of early morning, of the warmth that comes from days spent at the beach—it all envelopes you like a whirlwind set to devour you whole. First it’s taking presence in your lungs, then your brains, then your cunt. Quite literally- you grasp onto the wooden beam of the doorway in an attempt not to embarrass yourself.
But you don’t think that Choso was in the presence of mind to care.
You don’t think he even notices you enter at first.
He’s buck-naked on top of his bed. All twisted up in slightly-dampened sheets, he looked like a Renaissance painting; with his meaty thighs spread wiiiiiiide and his angry red cock throbbing between his legs, with his entire body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, with his tail not even wagging anymore, with his pinkish mouth parted and letting out the prettiest whine after whine as he fucks up into his fist.
Up and up.
Again and again.
He still has his collar on him.
Every muscle in his nearly-Herculean body twitching as he does so. Abs tensing. Biceps bulging—
Dribbles of sap explode from his tip like a damn fountain- leaving his hand glistening in layers of sticky glue-like substance. Shaft pulsing in the air. Heavy balls twitching once-twice- If it isn’t just the filthiest sight you’ve ever seen…he cums.
With the most pornographic cry of your name falling from his lips.
And from the puddle right below those ruttin’ hips of his, you wonder just how many times he’s cum to the thought of you before.
Choso gliiiiides his palm down his aching shaft to drag out his high. Again and again.
Pump after pump.
And it’s only once those sticky white droplets of seed have petered out that he’s finally attempting to crack his eyes open. Long lines of tears glimmer down his cheeks, and you think he just looks so pretty whimperin’ out your name as the last few ropes of his cum empty out of his cock. Letting his sweaty head slump back against the pillows, Choso’s chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath before—
Oh- and how is he supposed to catch his breath when you’re standing there - so beautiful and fuckable - in front of him? Jaw dropped.
Unbeknownst to himself, Choso’s tail starts wagging.
Unbeknownst to you, your thighs are pressing together.
And he lifts his sensitive nose in the air once more taking—one sniff, two sniff. Like cherries. It’s all he needs to register in that hazed brain of his that you’re completely and utterly soaked through those panties you weren’t wearing.
He wasn’t exactly doing anything lewd, but you think you’ve never felt more exposed.
Pulling down the hemline of your short, short skirt, you gasp- “Ch-Choso.”
And he flinches.
As if you’re struck him down to his very core—there’s something carnal there that shifts within Choso’s eyes and obscures anything of the sweet hybrid that you knew. His body trembles as he heaves to a stand beside the bed - and it’s just then that you’re realizing that in his rut, Choso was much bigger than you normally knew him to be. He was taller. Bulkier.
Just as he had been at the park, it’s like a more base part of him had taken over. Invaded.
Those claws of his drag down the soft covers of the bed and tear it to shreds without even trying- and you start to wonder what that might just mean for you…
He’s oozing power you knew he had- you knew he had, but never knew he’d think to harness as he crosses the bedroom in nothing but three strides.
And he kneels before you in a shorter amount of time.
Kneels.
Like it’s where he was always meant to be, beneath you like this, those capped knees of his strike the carpet with two thuds! Hard enough that it should hurt a normal human, though not even the faintest glint of pain registers in Choso’s eyes - so dilated now that they were almost completely engulfed in blackness.
His milky thighs squeeze around your calves. Which inadvertently means you can feel his cock grow even harder than before…
From your feet, he’s peering up at you with an expression akin to worship—clammy fingers grasping desperately at your skirt. They’re sliding just beneath - where his feverishly hot skin sizzles against your own - and a sudden pang of neediness shoots through your every blood vessel.
The air in the room suddenly feels hotter. Sweeter.
And you’ve always wanted Choso Kamo, but those pheromones he’s jetting out makes you feel almost dizzily greedy to feel him-
“Ma’am…” Choso’s voice quivers out—husky. But it wasn’t in the way that made him sound demanding- no, it was veering on the edge of an unsteady pleading. His unfairly handsome face cocks ever-so-slightly to the side, and he’s looking up at you through his loooong dark lashes. Puppydog eyes. “-permission to eat you out?”
You’re nodding so rapidly that your head bumps against the wall you’re pressed up against- hips bucking towards him, and he only yearns even closer with a whimper. “Yes—” You’re uttering out, “Yes, pl-”
But you didn’t think that Choso Kamo would ever make you beg for him, did you?
Hell, he should be the one begging—just to taste you. Just to sniff your pretty pussy. Just to tip his head slightly backwards and let those ropes of clingy sap leak down his tongue aaaaaaall the way down to his throat. His pheromones leave him in gusts, rendering the hybrid more n’ more ruined every time you’re blinking down at him. “Permission to swallow, ma’am?”
“You may.”
You witness the exact moment that Choso Kamo tastes you on his tongue for the first time.
Because his powerful, hybrid tail starts to wag harder than you’ve ever seen it. Because he groans. Because a primal noise escapes him that sounds like the most erotic music to yours eardrums—“Fuck.” Choso’s eyes go slightly wide. “Fuh-fuck…”
With the wettest, most lecherous plap! that mouth of his drops even further ajar. To plaster more of you across his maw.
You’re the sweetest things he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling- with or without pheromones.
His Adam’s apple bobs with the wads of your pussy’s needy juices slippin’ straight into his gullet. Pressing himself so close to you that he’s physically unable to breathe through his nose- Choso wastes no time before clawin’ onto both sides of your hips and plastering your sticky, syrupy pussy all over his mouth.
Just wide open.
Hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Gasping, your hands snake down to grab onto Choso’s sweaty locks. They were practically pitch-black with perspiration by this point, making it slippery for your hands to tighten around and place the slightest pressure when tuuuuuugging-
Choso fights with everything left in him to not dig his claws into your pretty thighs and drape your thoroughly wet pussy across his mouth. He mewls, “N-no.” His kisses grow more fervent. “No, baby…”
Eyes just a bit teary from the sudden stimulation, you’re wondering just what it is that poor Choso’s huffing n’ puffing about. And that’s the instant you’re witnessing the dog hybrid lean up onto his haunches and jerk his toned hips against your legs. That reddened, throbbing erection of his crushing against your calves.
It’s the only bit of friction he can get- and the only bit of friction that he needs to spurt his webbed seed all down your skin. Splatterin’ some against the wall and even down himself—he’s making such an utter mess as he cums just from eating you out.
That, too, with merely a few sultry licks.
Whimpering.
Choso’s head throws back with an echoing sound, lips wobbly oh-so-cutely as he drenches your heated flesh with his gooey sap. It forms a layer of warmth that you don’t get too feel for too long-
Because the man himself is draggin’ his roughened fingertips down the dredges of it and stuffing every ounce he can gather between your legs. Straight into the sinking divot where your hole was, Choso makes sure to retract his fatal claws as he slides his lacquering layers down your pussylips. Painting gloss after gloss of creamy white.
Pheromones were just soaking into the air, making it so heavy.
And that ruddied tip of his tongue slips out and starts lavishin’ away at your messy slit. Just so fucking messy.
Despite his tail wagging away at the lewd sight, he can’t keep the regret out of his tone. “I c-can’t believe I’ve cum.” He utters out a breathy pant into your cunt. “I can’t believe it—”
“Awww- s’okay, Cho.” You swear you see his cock twitch at just the slightest mention of that nickname falling from your gorgeous lips. “It’s probably your first time, huh?”
“I-it is.” Your poor puppydog nods.
“Then it’s alright-”
“But I wanna be good for you, mistress.” And even more sinful than that title was the way he was looking up at you with the most agonized tearful eyes—“I-it’s all my body’s telling me to do…” As Choso’s huffin’ away, the edge of his lower lip jutted out into the cutest pout. His brown brows furrow as he focuses on chastely pecking your hole—and you’re hit with the understanding that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. By now he’s rutting against your calves like a dog in heat - and it would be incorrect to say he wasn’t. “I wanna please you.”
“Is that soooo?” You’re crooning out- and he shivers. Reaching the edge of your foot out, you slide up the lined muscles of his left leg - ending up pressed between his thick thighs.
You step on Choso’s rock-hard erection with your foot and he all but cries-
Humming to yourself, “Then act like it.”
He gasps, “Wh-what?” And though he was in disbelief - his ears waste no time pricking up.
Your heel crushes his hot, dribblin’ erection- “Awwww, didn’t hear me, baby?” Harder. As he bucks his hips and lets out a sudden yelp, you’re pulling his handsome face up to yours—“Why’re you giving me kitty licks if you’re a dog hybrid, huh? Why don’t you eat me out…”
Hooking your non-dominant leg over his shoulder.
“-like a good boy then?”
And then you’re swervin’ his head just sliiiightly to the side—and helping him open up the puffy slit of your pussy and ease his tongue inside.
And all it takes is one push - just one push - of Choso’s flattened, ridged tastebuds- for you to clench around him. The most goopiest feeling.
Enough to make a hybrid addicted.
“Oh…” He barely has enough space to breathe let alone speak- any and every breath he has left in his lungs is spent parched over your cunt. Choso slips his fat tongue past your first ring of muscle—and you best believe that his extra-specialized hybrid tongue was tasting every droplet of your slick up close and personal. Savoring you - his bleary eyes roll to the back of his head. He’s feeling the velvety squeeze of your walls as he dives in and out, in and out, in and out.
In and oooooout- and thrusting ravenously all the way back in again.
“Shiiiiit-”
His eyes widen at the effect that he - he - seems to be having on you. “D-does this feel good-”
“Shut up n’ eat, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was just so obedient.
Not having much experience but swabbin’ the friction of his tongue wherever he could- as fast as he could. Tail wagging as fast as he could. The crowned edge of his tastebuds dig against every orifice inside you, as fast as he could.
And you’re swearing that the way he’s fucking you with is tongue feels almost…animalistic in nature.
Choso’s grip fastened tight upon either side of your squirming hips- and the tips of his fingers twitch as though he was having trouble keeping his claws back. Rugged grunts leave him with every slip n’ slide. Chin plastering against the bottom of your pussy—his handsome features scrape-scrape-scraaaape every inch of you from the end of your cunt and all the way up to the tip. Where your clit was throbbing and needy for him.
He’s whining at the feeling of that pulsation against his face, looking down innocently at your sensitive nub. “D-do I touch you ther-”
“Fuck, yes- you touch me there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Fuck.
You’re directing your inexperienced hybrid. And perhaps it was the pheromones that were making your body looser than ever-
But you’re wielding that ruthless restraint you have on him and bucking straight against Choso’s open mouth. As his tongue slips into your hole at a constant pace, you’re making sure that that handsomely big nose of his isn’t going to waste either - just grinding down on the mostly-straight line of it. Your favorite part was that lil’ bump that he had around the middle, it’s where your clit felt its primal pangs the most satiated.
As Choso eagerly pushes his face between your tremblin’ legs and laps and laps his thick tongue away. Textured tastebuds. Sizzling against where you were most sensitive.
And you might not be a hybrid with those keen sensibilities to know what every single pheromone puff meant- but what you’re feeling right now in his sweetened fragrance was nothing more than utterly content. Pure gluttony.
He was droolin’ down both sides of his mouth and only push-push-puuuushing his face even deeper. “Please-” And his swollen mouth lolls stupidly open- probing his tongue inside to the maximum, to the very hilt of his wet muscle, and even then he grinds his face deeper like he wanted even more. “P-permission to have even…ngh, more, mistress?”
“More?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull- Choso was already wolfing you down like a man starved. Fucking you with his tongue and gyratin’ his nose across your clit.
Thirsty for every pearly droplet of slick you’re spraying out, his brows press upwards and he’s fixing you with the most convincing puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. Hell, even his scruffy ears start to droop- “Please, mistress?”
Muttering underneath your breath, “I swear if you were any other…”
And how could you ever deny him that?
Oh, your hybrid was just so spoiled- but that was a problem for later. Right now, all you can think of doing is reaching down and hooking a finger in that pink collar of his—he keens as you’re using that to puuuuull him even further upwards, nose-deep between your legs, and sputters.
Rolling your hips faster and faster - you were just so glad that you had the upperhand with his collar now. Because every time that Choso even pulled away to gasp out his unsteady breaths- you’re hauling him straight back.
“What’s the matter, baby?” You’re cooing down at him, letting his flushed face crush against your pussylips. Leavin’ such a lecherous smear of your pussy’s slick across his features, “Didn’t you say that you wanted more?”
“I did- I do.” He’s whining, hips starting to rut once more. Just so teary and guttural with all the stimulation - your pussy was just ruining him, and it really didn’t help that those rut pheromones left him in an even more dire state. Choso sloshes your slick ‘round with his tongue and sobs at the searing restraint you had on his collar, “Wanted more- ngh, wanted to taste your pussy more, ma’am.”
“Then—?” Just so mean now. You tug on his collar again and make him shiver as he’s whimpering, tearing up, bucking like an animal—so overstimulated on being used. “What else does my good boy want, huh?”
“I-I’m your good boy?” Those tear-filled eyes of his are just so pretty, and they’re blinking a few times before Choso even realizes that you’ve asked a question. He hastens to answer before your tugging grows even more insistent - though he really doesn’t mind the pain…“I just wanted permission to…”
“Yeeees?”
“J-just to…”
And you’re peering down at the poor hybrid: his powerful tail is still now, and his pheromones were slowly becoming more and more maddened. You’re seeing the way his long fingers tremble where he’s holding you—edging juuuuust the slightest bit closer to your core…
“Permission to finger me-” You smile down something sinful at him, “-granted.”
He gapes, “Th-thank you, ma’am.”
“It’s a hybrid-eat-pussy world, right?”
And those slender tops of his fingers have no trouble just sliiiiiding a few inches inside- filling you up enough that his digits fill up every single orifice. Every single nook and cranny. He’s thrashin’ around inside, letting the curved tops of his fingers prod and poke away—
“Can smell you getting e-even wetter when I reach for…ngh- here.” He’s muttering out in a slightly breathy tone- slightly crazed. And the sweeter your treacly cunt jets out pheromones, the closer he’s veering towards that one spot-
Choso babbles, “Can smell you the sweetest…around here.” Through his shaggy bangs, you see those brows of his furrow- “Can smell your pussy wantin’ me to go…”
And then he’s hitting it.
“-here, ma’am.”
Unlike the sudden surges of pleasure that were almost knocking you to the floor, Choso was just looking up at you so innocently as he pumps his lengthy digits towards the very back of your pussy. Striking splat! where your g-spot throbbed—before he’s pushing inside and inside to scrape damn near your cervix.
Fingers so long that you think he could reach that spongy layer if you really wanted him to-
“D-deeper, Cho…” Your mouth waters at the delicious zaps of pleasure running through your veins. Your head throws back as they only seem to increase with every passing second, and you whine. “M’so close—deeper.”
“Close?” He breathes out, as if in disbelief.
And you best believe that Choso was running his poor fingers ragged doing exactly what you’re asking - he’s scrubbin’ up every ounce of space down your walls, he’s leaving your g-spot feeling raw at the constant whacks, he’s sure the skin of his knuckles was reddening at the impacts but—but he doesn’t even fucking think to slow down as Choso fucks n’ fucks your pussy stupid.
He could feel himself going stupid, mouth latched ‘round your pulsating clit and moaning. “Please cum.” Babbling, “P-please cum…need to make my mistress feel good-”
“Shit, and I really do feel good-”
“Need to be a good boy and give her pleasure-”
“Already doing so much, baby-”
“Need to make her cum—” Tears spilling down the sides of his handsome face, he looks up at you with pouted lips. Quivering, “Permission to make you c-cum, mistress?”
You tug on his collar - this time, high enough that you can bend down and press a chaste peck on his forehead. “Permission granted, Cho.”
And it’s just then that Choso’s reeling his fingers properly back - all the way till those rotund ends - and pushing straight into the deepest depths of your pussy. Directly into spots you perhaps weren’t even sure you had—perhaps your cervix. It certainly felt that way.
Deep.
And suddenly you’re shattering all over the hybrid’s fingers n’ mouth - something that Choso realizes before even you yourself do. His nostrils flare at the sudden peak in your stewed cherry pheromones—like the trumpets denoting the opening of those pearly gates.
Suddenly your legs tremble open and you’re gushing your orgasm down his ready tongue.
Jaw ajar, he lets you riiiiiiide your waves of bliss through and through his mouth. His handsome features. Your hands being a permanent fixture in his hair now, “P-please…” Blabbering away as the dopamine renders you more loose than ever, “Feels so good, Choso—”
Those ears of his perk up, “Yeah?”
“Feels so good- hck!” Sparking all over with pleasure. “Shit- it might just be the b-best orgasm of my damn life.”
And it really was.
You weren’t just saying this to soothe his rut - those sudden jolts and sparks, the way that he’d prolong them so much by massaging your bundles of nerves…it was the best you’ve ever felt. Choso just keeps swervin’ and swervin’ his knobbly fingertips against that pulsing target of your g-spot, in sloppy tandem with the slurps of his mouth suckling away on your clit. Again and again.
Draaaaaagging out your euphoria until it seemed like it couldn’t go on any longer- then pumping a fresh few waves of electricity into you with the sudden hits at your g-spot. Again and again.
“Mmmm, I’ve been a good boy then.” He murmurs deep into your cunt. And it’s only once most of the haze clouding your mind has cleared up - by the time that your orgasm has diminished into nothing but a few tender jolts - that you’re finally registering the way Choso’s hips were still humpin’ away against your body.
The way that Choso crushed his large, sculptured frame to yours and rutted into you like a dog in heat- “Been- been such a good boy. Can this good boy get a…”
He bores his pleading eyes up at you.
Feverishly flushed.
“-treat then, ma’am?”
You’re riding out the last of your high on that very handsome face, and you gasp. “But of course, Cho.”
In practically no time, you’re finding yourself helping Choso Kamo stand up- yes, you were the one to help him stand up.
The powerful hybrid was just too pussydrunk on you to even stand straight—being readily moved in the direction of the bed. Pheromones heating up. Rut intensified. Choso’s clamoring onto the mattress on your command, letting himself fall backwards against the pillows and half-hide his face against their puffiness.
His dewy mahogany eyes peek at you as you shrug off your clothes and join him- stopping right between those long legs of his. “Wh-what are you going to do, mistress?”
“Give you a little payback, of course.” You’re winking. And without further ado—you’re pushing apart his slightly-jittery legs; almost miles long now that you were seeing them from this angle. He was flushed all the way up to his inner thighs, highlighting the spattering of freckles that he had upon that skin.
From here, you could see his rock-hard erection even better - sure, you’d been given a proper show earlier. But this?
This gave you the opportunity to admire eeeeeevery single detail up-close.
The sheer rose shade at the crown of his shaft, the way it graduated down to the prettiest pink on his hilt. No wonder he liked that collar so much, it looked so similar to the color of his…
The veins upon veins that made the most beautiful patterns down his cock - they curved and overlapped in a way that made your cunt throb. The way his dark curls spattered him all the way down to his swollen hilt—Choso was mostly well-groomed, though he didn’t seem to have had the sense of mind to trim these days. But you almost…liked it like that.
The way he was not only blessed with incredible length, but incredible girth, too—perhaps even bigger now that he was in rut? But you’d always imagined that Choso would be the type to have a massive cock anyway, it’s always the silent ones who do…
The hybrid watches - looking as though he wanted to tear his eyes away from a vision so lewd but couldn’t - as your pretty face looms closer n’ closer to his throbbing erection. Fuck, he might just be longer than your damn face…seeing it compared like this…he can’t help but let his tail wag ferociously.
“Now now, Cho.” Your stern voice breaks through, “Settle down now or I won’t be able to-”
“S-sorry!” He stops immediately.
And you grip the base of his red, thickened cock. “No interrupting me.” Hard.
“I understand…” Choso whines, body startin’ to arch off of the mattress - though he holds himself back for the most part given how he wasn’t sure how you’d react. Would you punish him? Would you like it?
Whatever his frenzied mind had been fearfully conjuring up, it’s all wiped blank by the feeling of you surging your head down and gulping up the first few inches of him. Happily.
First, Choso’s mouth drops.
Then, the sensation of your wet tongue on his cock hits him.
Finally, he’s planting his feet at the edge of the bed and bucking- gripping onto your scalp with his hands. Bucking. And bucking. And bucking—he cries out, “Oh f-fuuuuuck, ngh—” Just a few tears of overstimulation leaving the sides of his eyes, “Fuck- ngh, this is what it feels like?”
Of course, you certainly couldn’t respond due to your mouth being full - but that doesn’t stop you from looking up at him through your lashes and winking.
The thickness of his cock fills up your entire mouth, pulsating in a way that was incredible. The creamy layers of pre that topped his bulbous tip tasted almost…sweet? Almost like salted caramel - and you didn’t know whether that was you or the pheromones talking.
“Fuck-”
You’re just starting to give Choso a few gooooood, loooong bobs of your head—up and down. Up and down. Slobberin’ your entire mouth from the top of his mushroomy tip and about halfway down that incredible length.
But that’s around when the hand at your scalp grows almost searing.
And you’re looking up to find Choso shaking his head after only a mere few seconds of you giving him a blowjob- “P-please…any longer and m’gonna cum.” Which had just been too good for him.
You pull yourself off of his fared tip with a pwah! “Aaaaand?” Still kissing him down there.
“And I want to…ngh, save it.” He admits, eyes not meeting yours.
“Save it?” You’re cocking your head in confusion, “Save it for what, Choso?”
“Well…”
“Answer me, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am—” The dog hybrid looks up at you with a slightly pouty expression, “I wanted to save for when I f-fuck you…”
Your jaw drops.
There’s a slight silence in the room- though the sudden heated increase in pheromones does enough talking for the both of you. And you’re wasting no time before removing yourself completely from his cock—he ruts.
Before pushing those hips of his right back down.
Before shuffling up the king-sized mattress to straddle either side of his thoroughly sculptured hips, feeling the curves and divots of his muscles there.
Before perkin’ your hips juuuuust behind you and catching Choso’s globular tip in your entrance- slamming your cunt down as far as you could take him.
You’re sucking in a harsh breath as the first heated inch of him enters your cunt—shit, he really did feel as good as you’d imagined. “Fuck.”
The pointed top of his shaft probin’ inwards.
Zig-zagging veins massaging up against your soft walls.
The throbbing of his shaft creating a vicious drumbeat that you find your pounding heart synchronizing to- you’re throwing your head back and arching your hips to get more of him- and right now it seems like you were the one that was finding yourself utterly ruined on his body.
Your hands find themselves slitherin’ right up his toned body—right past those ripples and curves of his muscles. Ultimately resting on top of both his pecs, “Fuck, Cho.”
“Mistress…” He pants out- lips meeting yours in an open-mouthed kiss.
With a low snarl, you’re absolutely melting into his embrace. It’s barely anything of a kiss and more like Choso was bearing his canines and glide-glide-gliiiiding them dangerously down the front of your cracked maw. Just the slight softness of his actual lips peaking through and gluing against yours ravenously, “Choso-”
“Mistress.”
“Choso- you feel so good.” Before you know it, Choso rams his strong hips up - plunging his achingly hard cock - just the slightest few inches until he suddenly stops. But not because he’d bottomed-out. It’s as though he’d been completely and utterly ready to pound your silly cervix raw- but jerked himself to a stop out of nothing but pure will and the need to-
“G-get permission.” He mutters between trembling lips, words coming out as nothing but a few slurred syllables - each one melting into the last.
And as you’re blinking away the haze in your eyes, attempting to make sense of him, you ask. “Get permission? You want permission to- ngh, fuck me, Choso? You know you already have it…‘
He shakes his head. “Not…that…” Sounding as if he was on the very verge of ruination just from the way he found himself stuffed inside you—not moving a single inch. But still ruined.
The pheromones in the room heighten, and Choso’s tail swishes agitatedly.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s something far, far dirtier…” He admits, and despite his words there was the shyest blush upon his face. And you swear his cock starts to throb even harder at his utterance—going to the extent that it felt like Choso was damn near about to explode- “It’s where I- hngh, fuck, it’s not something that a hybrid like me deserved to even imagine about you, mistress.”
As though he couldn’t even stop himself - his hips were moving in the slightest ruts up and down now. Up and down. Up and down. Barely-there grinds that almost felt more lecherous than just fucking up into you.
His tail starts to wag once more as Choso starts rubbin’ his tip against the roof of your cunt. Forgoing those rational desires of his to not fuck you until he gained permission for…whatever it is that he was too afraid to admit. Those pinkish lips of his quiver as you’re starting to clench around him—“I-it’s nothing something I deserve…but fuck, how many times I’ve thought a-about it…”
“Then tell me.” You’re humming ruthlessly down at him. His eyes slightly widen at the commanding tone of your voice - surely, you must know that he could never deny you when you speak to him like that? “That’s an order from your master, baby—”
He shivers. “A-an order?”
“Tell me what it is that you’ve been thinking about for so long.”
Choso’s slick-wettened cock slips in just a few inches deeper, and he whimpers something inaudible.
“What was that?” You’re leaning down to hear him better.
His lips moving mere millimeters away from your own, “I-I’ve always thought about- ngh, almost ever since the first time I saw you- fuck, it was like th-this animal desire in me…” Big, bulbous tears collecting at the edge of his right eye, Choso finally jerks his hips up—“Permission to breed you, mistress?”
Oh—
That ‘yes, baby’ is keening out of you faster than you can register it leaving your hips.
And that’s all it takes for Choso to succeed in bottoming-out, that’s all it takes for Choso to dig his strawberry divot against the edge of your cervix, that’s all it takes for Choso to fully n’ properly start to fuck up into you like an absolute madman.
Arching his back against the mattress.
Higher with his hips, lower with his shoulders: he runs his pumping tip across every inch of the roof of your cunt—even deeper, and then stirs his fattened length around in search of that pretty g-spot he’d been troublin’ so much not too long ago. Pump after pump.
Probe after heavy prooooobe of his geysering orifice- you’re feeling your toes curl at the sensation of being so full with him. Warm and heavy inside you. “Permission granted-” You gasp out.
And though he’d already heard your affirmative answer from earlier, it makes Choso swell up just a liiiiittle thicker at his circumference. Snaggin’ against the sides of your elastic walls, he’s filling you up like nothing before, just so plump n’ puckering up at every nook…especially around the area of his base that seemed to be growing at an even faster rate than the rest of him…
But you have no time - nor ability - to count away at the feverish throbs and stretches of Choso’s cock right now. Right now, he’s runnin’ his tip against the side of your g-spot until that pretty inner lining of your walls bulge with his sheer size—
“Permission- oh.” You’re throwing your head back in sheer pleasure, seeing white burst behind your eyes. “P-permission…” Sounding as though a broken record-player, “And for how long have you wanted this permission, baby?”
“Too long.” Choso cries out. Hands trembling upon either side of your hips, “Been wanting this pretty pussy for w-waaaay too long- as far as I can remember…was just impossible when I was smelling her sweetness all the damn time.”
Your heart races, “And how long have you been wanting to breed me-”
“Always.”
And after a few more probes n’ a sudden clench—from your sopping wet walls, Choso whimpers and tucks his head into the crook of your neck - where you’d assumed that humans had their scent glands.
His heavy balls thwack! the globes of your ass cheeks when he drills his cock inwards, “I’ve n-never had a rut before…” He admits, “It just never felt like the right time. But this- fuck, primal part of me always wondered just how pretty you’d look all round and glowing a-and…pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” You breathe.
“Pregnant with my pups.” Choso babbles out. Those doe-like eyes of his kept on rolling to the back of his head every time he’s feeling himself being clenched juuuuust a little tighter than usual. Dark brows furrowing. Hands tightening. “Wondered just how much your- hah, pretty tits would grow even more.” Mouth lathering over your right tit, he suckles—as though expecting milk to come pouring out already. “Wondered just how sweet your milk would be, mmmm…”
“And what else?” You huff. But the hybrid’s just so dazed on your pussy and his rut and your pussy that it takes a firm tug on his collar before he’s back to his senses.
“Huh- oh—” Choso blinks his teary-clung eyes back open, peering around the thickly-scented room as though he’d just forgotten where he was already. “Wondered just how many people would stare at you as we w-walked down the street, me on your leash…”
“And why’s that?”
“Because just how many of them would think that it’s me—” Out-of-breath. Voice a couple octaves higher than usual - utterly gone. You didn’t have to feel the steadily-increasing sloppiness of his cock to know that Choso was losing himself - thwack! thwack! thwack! “Just how many of them would think that it’s your poor, shy puppyboy that fucked you all pregnant, mistress?”
“Shiiiiit—” Your legs were starting to tremble - and whether because of fatigue or something else entirely, you’re unsure. But Choso immediately snakes his fingers down just a little lower to cup either side of your ass, and he’s using his immense strength to support you as you start bouncing back down onto his merciless thrusts. “Keep going-”
His eyes grow wide, “P-permission to-”
“Keep going, Choso.”
And who was he to go against his mistress’s wishes? Especially when such wishes was something that he’d been wanting to do since the day he fucking met you—fuck, perhaps even sooner. It was always in that carnal part of him that he’d been trying to ignore ever since the first time he smelled your beautiful, addictive scent outside his bed at the clinic. Those curtains were useless - he already knew that you’d be the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes upon.
Like cherries, syrup, and sex.
And right now he was fucking into the most beatiful thing of all- your thighs press against that No. 1 tattoo on his v-line, and you’re keening.
Arching your back so that the roooough curvature of his cock could stir up your insides even more than he already was- and that was saying quite a lot already. That ridged pattern of his veins were bumpin’ up against the sides of your channel, your nerves, and making you clench around him even tighter—leaving the hybrid more and more honest with every single thrust. “I’m s-such a dirty hybrid…so perverted.” He admits, “I’d even wonder about trying to fuh-fuck you pregnant all over again every single day—”
“H-how do you mean?” You’re panting out.
“I’d wonder how many times it’d take to plant my seed inside- to fuck you so full that it finally- hngh, takes.” Eyes only partly-cracked open, “And then I’d wonder that it’d be best to fuck you every- single- day-”
“Yes-” You’re mewling out, your nails digging into the plushness of his pecs.
“I’d make sure my hybrid cum’s dripping down your legs every second of the day-”
“Yes.”
“I’d make sure when we’re walking—ngh, going on our walks, that every single hybrid in a five-mile distance is going to smell me on you…” Choso leans in as though sharing one of his deepest, darkest secrets, “-and in you.”
“Yes—”
“And thennnnn—” It’s here that an almost sleazy smirk graces his pretty lips, “I’d wonder about fucking you even after you were pregnant.”
Your jaw drops, and your hands fly to his collar.
“I’d wonder about fucking you u-until your womb remembered me and…” So caught up in his sinful words that you hadn’t even registered that the thickened base of his shaft was only growing thicker…and thicker, and even thicker—to the extent that now it was a round circumference nearly twice or thrice what it had normally been, and you hadn’t even seemed to notice the slamming slaps against the forefront of your cunt. Faster. Harder. His right hand dips down between your jittery legs to start teasin’ your clit with fresh tugs and rolls, “—we don’t stop until we have nine kids.”
Nine kids.
Nine kids?!
Choso Kamo had been so-ravenously dreaming about pumping you full of nine of his kids; creating a small army of hybrid half-breeds that would likely look just like him but with your open warmth and that beautiful smile of his. And why was it that you could imagine it so clearly?
“Nine kids…” Eleven repeating it a few times doesn’t do much to let the words fully sink in - who would have thought that the nervous, innocent Choso Kamo would be such a lewd character inside? Who would have thought that he’d be nodding along to your repetition.
Gingerly letting his eyes slip to the side of his pillows, “B-but I know that’s just a far-off- ngh, dream, mistress.” Much more of the usual Choso that you know, though he’s still fucking up into you as though it ached him very second that he wasn’t stuffing you all the way to the brim inside - Choso’s rounded, reddened tip plasters against the back of your pussy and you’re yowling. “That’s why I stole those panties, that’s why had to- ngh, satiate myself with just my hand…”
And that makes you slightly more alert- “My panties? Where are my panties, by the way?”
He shyly shrugs.
To which you’re narrowing your eyes in suspicion, “Choso…”
And the larger hybrid almost flinches- “Th-they’re under my pillows.”
Without a mere moment of hesitation, you’re diving your hand underneath one of those puffy pillows you’d picked out just for him during that first shopping trip you’d undertaken with him…and you find all those panties you’d lost. Half your drawer, to be precise.
Choso whimpers as you’re pulling a few strappy pieces of lace and gauze out—some of the sluttiest of your collection, and your fingers had scraped the rest of it that still remained down under. Honestly, how many had he collected without you realizing at first? How many had he fucking used—?
Those scraps of fabric were sticky and slightly cloying to each of your senses- and so what else could you think of doing? What better option for punishment was there to do but gather them up into a tight ball in your hand and push them between Choso’s pinkish, puffy lips- gagging him with your panties. Your panties that he’d used to jerk off.
A taste of his own medicine - or at least it was supposed to be. You just didn’t expect for Choso’s tail to start wagging even harder than ever.
Pervert puppyboy.
“So you wanted to breed me, huh?”
“N-not wanted…” He corrects you, hips surging up uncontrollably into your wetness. “Want.”
“So you want to breed me, huh? So you want to make all those dreams a reality?” Purring, and the man beneath you can only nod with his massive tear-filled eyes - just so pretty when he cried, hm? To stimulate him even further, you’re exerting your hips to outmatch his pace, rammin’ his bulbous cock into every crevice and geysering orifice that you’re able to realize exists—“Then you know that you still haven’t gotten my- ngh, permission for that, Choso, baby.”
Choso sputters out an exhale, “P-please, ma’am?” Muffled through your own panties. Rubbin’ his roughened thumb against your clit even further to sweeten the deal—“Do I have the permission to-”
“Yes-” And whatever hopeful moan was about to leave him, you’re cutting him off. “But only on one condition.”
“Please- what is it…?” He hisses, “Please-”
“But be warned, it’s a bit of a tough one-”
“I’ll do anything.”
And this was exactly where you wanted him. Exactly. You’re smiling down at the beautiful, utterly ruined boy beneath you—and pulling him in with a finger hooked underneath his pink collar - one that proudly had your name upon his pendant - to whisper into his flustered ears. “Then…bark like you want it.”
Choso’s eyes widen just a fraction. His cock trembles dangerously deep inside of you, and his nostrils flare as he exhales a large breath. Right before-
“R-ruff…” Before he’s muffling out the sweetest, most sultry fucking barks through the panties you’d gagged into his mouth- all because you’d asked. At the smell of your treacly cunt only growing even more aroused, Choso continues—“Ruff- arf—”
Your grin grows, “Ohoho? Louder.”
“Ruff-”
“Louder.”
“Ruff—woof.” He was just embarrassing himself, and it only made him even harder. Cock blushin’ almost as much as his cheeks were by this point- “Arf- arf, pleeeeese, ma’am.”
“Hmmm?”
Those dilated pupils of his cross, and Choso’s spitting out the gag of those gauzy - soiled with his own cum - fabrics to plead through trembling lips.
“P-please let me breed you, mistress.”
And what else more could you say but—“Of course, Cho.”
And in the next few sloppy thrusts, you’re feeling Choso empty out rope after loooooong heaving rope of cum inside you. It’s sheer volumes that you never even thought possible, sheer wads that were webbin’ up your tight insides and taking over every single ounce of space inside you - each with those creamy, glued-up wads of his seed.
Warm and wet.
Wild.
They’re splashin’ around inside of you and lacquering a thiiiiick few layers upon the channel of your cunt—over and over and over again. Choso doesn’t even need to try to make sure that every single spot is covered, because the sheer volume makes it impossible for a generous heap of his sap to puddle at your cervix, gettin’ hit by a torrential wave of his cockhead striking. Pumping deep inside.
Choso’s twitchy balls press up against your ass, just the slightest bit of your pussylips, and you’re shivering as you feel the orgasm that runs through him.
Collar dangling.
“Fuck…” Choso seethes through clenched canines, one of his hands coming up to press down upon your core. That cute front of yours where if he pressed juuuuuuust right- he could feel the vibrations of his shaft emptying out at your sponge-covered womb, “Fuck, m’gonna get at least one kid tonight , ma’am.”
Soon enough, you’re crashing into your own high, too.
And it zaps through your body faster than the last one - clearly having been so overstimulated that this one overtakes you more quickly, this one makes you see stars behind your eyelids, this one makes you shiver n’ shake on top of him.
Being properly fucked through your rapidfire waves of dopamine as he leans you even closer into his arms. As he nuzzles the side of your neck. As he hums out sounds of satisfaction at every euphoric peak he’s probin’ his massive cockhead into.
As Choso leans down and bites the side of your scent glands—you’re feeling something pop!
And you’re experiencing a sudden rush of warmth like another orgasm- like a hundred thousand other orgasms. It all courses through your overstimulated body one by one, at the same time, increasing in both length and intensity—it’s breaking you down to your very core—until you don’t even realize that you’re gasping out Choso’s name like a prayer.
And he’s worshipping yours in much the same fashion.
Basically ruining it with his lewd tone as he manages to slip that girthy knot of his inside - grinding n’ grinding the plumpness of his base until he’s fit-fit-fiiiiiiiiiitting in. Your cunt stretches like elastic around him, and it’s unbelievable to you that you’re able to fit so much of him inside like this.
You can feel him hot and throbbing deep inside you.
Preventing you from leaking even a single wad of his dewy white cum you’re milking.
“My mate…” Choso rasps out. You’re collapsed on top of him by now, and he runs one open palm down the curvature of your spine—then aaaaaall the way back up again to check on that freshly-made bonding mark on you - all bloodied and already healing through the special properties of a hybrid mate’s saliva - and then even further up to trace that collar of his. Lock broken. Your name always against his beating chest. Having you mewling at the sensation of his knot-
Currently, however, it was also your head against his beating chest.
You’re gripping onto his muscular body even further- and it almost makes you chuckle to feel that way just that makes Choso’s cock twitch inside of you. “No…” You state simply, “My mate.‘
“Anything you say, ma’am.”
.
.
.
Thereafter, it hadn’t been too long before Choso had roped you into a second round. Then a third. Then a fourth—where he’d been whimpering and shooting blanks, drool dripping down either side of his mouth as his cock slid into you in a thorough mating press.
And then a fifth. A sixth.
A seventh- honestly, after the seventh you’d stopped counting.
You didn’t trust Choso to keep count, either - honestly, you don’t think you would’ve trusted Choso to remember his own name.
Not this night or any of the hot summer nights that came after.
By the time the heat’s simmered down, and your lungs don’t feel clogged with the cloying sweetness of mingled pheromones, and you’re finally able to crack open your eyelids in this sultry sauna of a bedroom—you can barely move.
Body heavy.
Limbs aching.
Even the tiniest of twitches sending soreness shooting through your vessels.
You’re finding yourself tucked to Choso’s side underneath the covers- hand thrown around his muscular side, your chin hooked into the curvature of his spine. Who’d have thought that the big, bad hybrid would’ve been a small spoon?
That collar of yours was still ‘round his neck and showed no signs of being taken off soon. And you’re remembering just then that through most of his rut, the two of you had gotten up to scarf down food and clean yourselves when necessary. Though towards the feverish end of it, honestly you couldn’t remember anything other than wanting him to mark you with a bonding bite over and over and over again- so why were you notably wiped down and smelling of your favorite body wash?
Did Choso…wash you down even through his rut?
You knew the pheromones always hit the strongest towards the beginning and the end of one’s rut, did he really push through all that n’ tenderly tuck you in?
You’re feeling such a rush of affection for your puppyboy, and, sleepily, you press a line of kisses down the column of his throat- marked as well. In the heat of the moment, you’d somehow managed to puncture Choso’s scent glands with your own human canines.
He was yours, and you were his.
Choso hums groggily and snuggles even further backwards against you. Frankly, you think you could cuddle up against him and spend another day here—another week, another month.
Perhaps even the rest of your life.
But if only that incessant bzz-bzzing would stop.
With a pained groan, you’re managing to sit up and blink your eyes somewhere behind you - where the noise seemed to be pulsing from. Choso whines in disappointment and attempts to pull you back down with his warm hands- and oh, how it hurt you to deny those puppydog eyes.
“I’ll be cuddling you soon, spoiled baby.” You tut down at him. Finally locating the source of the noise, you’re reaching your sore hand out and grabbing onto your glaring phone.
Its screen assaults you with light immediately.
And then with a phone call.
Dr. Ieri Shoko.
Wincing, you’re answering the call. “Hello?”
“Woof- you sound rough.” Her cool tone wavers just the slightest in amusement, “Rough week?”
“Rough day.” You’re joking, “Rough rut.”
And there’s a slight pause on the other end of the line, “Right, but…you do realize it’s been a week, right?”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Almost immediately, you’re ripping your ear away from the phone and checking the date- fuck, Shoko hadn’t been messing with you. It really was a week since that last time you’d called her—you spent an entire week together in bed with him? And you hadn’t even realized?
Jaw dropping as so many things hit you at once, “My job-”
“Has already been notified.” And she sounded to be the exact opposite of you, collected and pausing for what you assumed to be sips of her morning coffee. “After our last call, I signed you up for the Hybrid Rut Registry- I do this for everyone that shelters, but didn’t consider it for Choso. It lets your workplace and loved ones know if and when your hybrid is in rut—and for your relationship I entered it as you’d be needed for the duration of the rut.”
Your heart races at her (very correct) assumption.
“You’re welcome.” She hums, “Also double-check on that to make sure that everything’s in order there- and also congratulations-”
Your bitten mark throbbed.
“-I expect to see you both at the clinic for a check-up today.” From your side, Choso wraps his muscular arms around you with a whine for you to come back. “But that’s not actually what I was calling you about- I was actually checking on your availability.”
“My availability?”
“Yes, for the program.” She replies simply.
“The program? Th-the companionship program?” You breathe, “Wait- I can help another hybrid?”
And she merely hums in satisfaction, “Mhm, I’ve got another hybrid that needs your help.” And whatever Choso’s honed senses let him hear or feel—he’s sitting up on the bed and pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Another dog hybrid- a year older than Choso, slightly smaller, golden retriever variety, same intelligent and mild demeanor.”
“Yes?” You breathe. Heart pounding already.
“His name is Ino Takuma.”
A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG, SIS, WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOOOOOOOOOG-
Sukuna and Choso are your roomies and they do not understand the word privacy! constantly just walking in while you're taking a shower, taking over your bed - If they're gonna be that way, you could at least get backshots, but no! They'd rather play Mario Kart and manspread with you on the couch. Sukuna keeps throwing you off rainbow road, (rude!) which leads to your own revenge - cucking him.
pairings - choso x reader x sukuna
warnings- fingering, lots of titty worship, nipple sucking, edging, making Choso whimper, cucking tf outta Kuna in a pink chair lol, petty reader (I luv her) yandere tendencies (both boys) p in v sex, creampie, cum swallowing, ragebaiting kuna -4k
this was a commission for my baby @martianzmars ahhh this is like our fourth one!? I luv u sm!!!
art is from @/679sora on IG
Sukuna and Choso are by far the most annoying roommates a girl could have – constantly in your space, always eating all your favorite snacks, not allowing you any privacy. Shower? They’re standing in the damn bathroom talking to you, thinking you can masturbate in peace? No, they wanna come hang out in your room all the time!
Not just in the apartment either – no, they don’t even let you go anywhere without them, the couple times they have they’ve come to the parties and made sure they were on either side of you, fending off any of the men. Aside from work and classes they’re not in, the two men tag along anywhere – up to and including getting manicures.
It was pretty cute to see them get their nails painted black, and how ticklish they get when they’re getting pedicures – but to have no alone time? To have no girls nights out, no they go to those too, heaven help if a guy maybe tries to talk to you, the two of them make sure anyone who is brave enough to approach is sent off running.
You love having them around, even when the two giant men just take over your entire bed, big ass arms all heavy and weighing you down when you wake up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind that if either of them used their cocks that were pressing on either side of you, but no they just snuggle you closer, leaving you soaking wet and aching, unable to use any of your toys in peace.
Menaces, they’re menaces.
Choso is an adorable menace, a sweetheart – but menace nonetheless. Sukuna was more outspoken with how insane he was, he lived to fuck with you, once he thought it would be funny to hide your dildo collection you’re so proud of. You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, until he groveled and bought you a brand new one for your addition.
Little did you know – Sukuna had it moulded to fit his cock exactly, the thought that you were getting stretched out by his shape made it even sweeter when he heard your soft little whines. When he’d jerk it in his room, groaning and tilting his head against that wall like a pervert.
Sometimes he’d use your panties to cum, he loved when you couldn’t find them and got all upset – he even took your scrunchies because they smell like your shampoo. Okay maybe Sukuna’s a bit obsessed with you, but is Choso much better?
No, he’s not, Choso is just a little sneakier, thinking of fucking you and jerking it when he’s in the shower and you’re talking to him, trying to muffle his moans as he pictures you right on your knees.
Not that you’re aware of any of it.
Even now, they’re smushing you between them on the couch, manspread thighs against your own, you never get any space with these two.
“Hah, i’ll throw your ass right off rainbow fucking road,” Sukuna’s grinning like the psycho he is when he nudges your cart, your cute little Yoshi flying off.
“Ugh, you dick!”
“Sukuna,” Choso sighs and shakes his head. “Stop throwing her off.”
“Stop throwing her off,” you smack him with his mocking tone, getting back onto the road and speeding up. “Hah!”
“Not again!? You’re such a jerk!”
“I’ll avenge you angel,” Sukuna rolls his eyes when Choso runs Sukuna off the road, and his bowser goes flying, you snicker in laughter as Sukuna crashes out.
“Choso, my hero!”
“I’ll come fucking get the both of you,” Sukuna’s locked in, brows lowered – far too close to you now as if the couch isn’t big enough for him, his biceps flexing in a concerning ass way that makes you stop driving. “What brat, ya done?”
“I um…” you blink and focus once more, in time for Choso to lean forward, his elbow resting on your bare thigh so casually.
Casual.
You’re ovulating and losing mario kart!
“Mnh…”
They both look at you and you cover your face in embarrassment, slick dribbling down your inner thighs – you’re always wet around them but today is too fucking much, how many times a day can you change your panties? You could swear they keep coming up missing too.
“You all right angel?” Choso asks softly, tilting his head and looking at you far too closely, hand on your cheek. “You’re warm! Do you have a fever?”
“N-no,” Sukuna scoffs and yanks the remote from your hands, feeling your head for himself.
“You are warm, brat, better not be sick,” he tilts your chin up and smirks. “You lost big time, hah you suck.”
“Ugh!” You shove at him once more. “You suck! I’m fine!”
You three play another round and Sukuna won’t stop knocking you off, sending your car into a tailspin, you get so damn mad at him you toss the remote on the floor. Sukuna snorts when you cross your arms.
“Looking like a little spoiled brat.”
“I am not! You’re just rude!”
“Tch, can’t even lose a game,” you’re so irritated and so horny you can’t think right now, just glaring at the pink haired menace. “Don’t feel bad, I beat you at every single game, don’t I?”
“Sukuna stop,” Choso sets his remote down, wrapping a protective arm and tugging you against him. “Leave her alone, you’re really being a dick over it.”
“I am competitive, she’s the sore loser.”
“You’re not competitive, you’re being an ass,” you snuggle to Choso now and he blushes, your lips against his neck, tickling his skin.
“Thank you Cho,” you murmur, pressing a kiss, he sucks in a breath, hand tightening at your waist, Sukuna glares at the sight, smacking Choso’s hand right off you. “Hey!”
“You’re mad she’s snuggling to me.”
“Hah, right,” Sukuna stands up now, yanking you off Choso like the big brute he is, you kick at him and he smirks, yanking your ankle. “Think ya can hurt me, brat?”
“You’re the biggest brat there is, Ryomen Sukuna!”
“Wow, my full name – really,” you stick your tongue out and Sukuna bars you with his arms on the couch, making your breath catch. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s not hot and ruining you with his proximity. “Admit you’re trash at Mario cart and I’ll make you feel real good, won’t have to fuck yourself tonight with your dildo collection.”
“Invasion of privacy! No, I won’t admit I suck,” you smack at his arm and then climb right onto Choso’s lap, he sucks in a breath at the action.
“Oh… Oh! Oh,” he’s gripping your waist with those big hands, dragging your heat against that bulge underneath his pants as you move your hips, his eyes darkening. “Hi.”
You giggle a bit at that, moving again, feeling Sukuna tense behind you. “Hi.”
“Get off his damn lap,” Sukuna turns your face towards him, just to get Choso smacking his hand away this time. “I’ll beat both your asses.”
“No you won’t,” Choso murmurs, turning your face to him now, thumb brushing little circles on your hip, making you even wetter. “I’ll make you feel good without you having to say you ‘suck’ at Mario cart. You don’t suck.”
“I can suck,” you whisper, leaning forward and giggling, Choso moans when you kiss his lips, and everything in your living room shifts.
It’s a desperate kiss once Choso gets a taste of you, moaning into your mouth and working your body against him, sucking in a breath, eyes fluttering shut, sucking your tongue in his mouth and rutting up against you. You whine out at it, you could almost cum from just feeling him, one of his hands entangling in his hair.
“Are you really gonna leave me out?” Sukuna asks, flipping you before you can think, now your back is pressed on Choso’s hard chest, Sukuna is kneeling, his hands pressing against your tits. You’re ovulating so bad they’re full and aching, your nipples sensitive when he brushes his thumbs on them. “You’re needy, huh brat?”
“Not for you and your Mario cart cheating tactics, mnh!” He uses a hand to tug up your shirt, your tits spilling out, earning his moan.
“Don’t want my mouth on them?” You can’t say no, not when Choso’s biting your neck, his fingers slipping up your shorts, making your thighs tremble, back arching for more of Sukuna’s touch. “Answer.”
“I am still mad at you, but I’ll let you do that,” he smirks as if he’ll get to fuck you – little does Sukuna know you take Mario Kart very seriously, and you’re planning on making your giant, pink haired roomie pay. “Mnh!”
Sukuna presses you back against Choso, grabbing your tit and wrapping his lips around the little bud, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth, tongue ring clicking against it and earning a soft moan. You move against Choso who whines out in response, cock licking so much sticky pre it’s drizzling against your inner thigh, his finger running over your panties.
“Ngh,” soft moans escape your lips as Sukuna sucks one nipple, the other toyed with by his thumb and forefinger, Choso’s running up and down your slit until you’re dripping wet. “Choso…”
“Even now?” Sukuna scowls and you grin, earning a sharp bite on your tit, leaving glistening teeth marks, you gasp in shock and he grins. “Marked you.”
“Freak,” you grumble, but he’s sucking your other nipple, and your hand finds its way in his pink silky hair, it’s so soft, you tug hard and he grips your tit hard, sucking it in his mouth as Choso toys your clit. “F-fuck… mnh…”
“You’re soaked baby,” Choso whispers, tilting your face to his and kissing you, messy with your tongues dripping saliva. “Like that?”
“Y-yes, ow!” Sukuna bites the fuck out of you again, earning your attention, you yank the fuck out of his hair and make him moan.
“Where’s my attention!?”
“I’m still mad, I already told you,” Sukuna tugs your shorts to the side, seeing how soaking wet you are, panties drenched.
“Already fuck yourself today?”
“Maybe,” he smirks. “Why?”
“Nothing – just that’s my cock.”
“What!?” You shove him hard, he’s chuckling and Choso’s damn near about to bust with how you wiggle. “You did not seriously? Psycho!”
“Bet you loved it,” you did, fuck him. “Could you take it all?”
“No – I mean!? Yep, hah wasn’t that -”
Before you can finish your petty lie, Sukuna’s kissing you, messy and mean with it, tongue ring clicking the roof of your mouth, you’re rocking back and forth, dying for them inside you. If you weren’t such a petty girl, maybe you’d let Sukuna slide his cock inside your cunt, where Choso’s running circles against your slick entrance – but you’re still mad about Mario Kart.
And now he’s making his cock your dildo!?
“You’re batshit insane,” you’re still kissing him though, Choso’s got your clit twitching and Sukuna’s pinching your nipples and rolling them, the simultaneous play is too much to handle. “You c-can’t just… mnh, d-do that.”
“That’s not fair, I wanna make you one,” Choso pouts as he sinks two fingers in your messy, needy cunt, you’re soaking them and quivering, sucking them up so damn easy. “Do you want one of me?”
“I do, stop biting, you dick!” Sukuna’s furious – how dare you give him all the attention when Sukuna is right there, he slips his finger down and Choso pulls his out with a wet pop, sucking on them and moaning.
Fuck he’s hot.
You’re a little lost when you realize Sukuna’s shoving two fingers deep, scissoring them in and out of your hole. “Hah your cunt is already fucked out, you must love my dick stretching your messy cunt out.”
“You w-wish,” your thighs are held up by Choso for Sukuna’s mean fingers to rock in and out of your cunt with loud squelches, your nails press into Choso’s forearms when he grips your tit, squishing it in his hand and rutting that leaky cock right on you. “Close, close… Sukuna!?”
“You thought,” he yanks his fingers out, smirking at the obscene amount dripping, slipping them right in your mouth. “Suck.”
You bob your mouth up and down his knuckles, cheeks all flushed and your eyes dazed, Sukuna moans at the sight, picturing how well you’d suck his cock, as you slip your tongue between those digits. Choso’s already fingering you again, your cheeks hollowed, eyes rolling back.
“I’ll let you cum baby,” he murmurs, Sukuna scoffs – Choso was always trying to ‘please you’ and this was no different, you’re sucking Sukuna’s fingers as his hand grips under your chin, Choso’s fingers making a mess between your thighs as you clamp down. “Go ahead, cum for me.”
“Mmph!” You’re drooling as Sukuna’s fingers go deeper, damn near choking you with them, orgasm making you squirt all over Choso’s lap, drops smacking against Sukuna’s pants, he groans at the sigh.
“Messy lil slut, look at ya, can’t handle a couple fingers?”
“Fuck off, was cummin’ for Choso,” Choso grins, his fingers easing out of your cunt with a messy pop as she keeps spasming, gushing arousal down onto the couch you’re sitting on. “Cho, come on.”
“Come where baby?”
“My room,” you stand and push past Sukuna, whose cock is so hard you can see it pressing out, he winces and has to adjust it when you’re crooking your finger. “You can watch.”
“Watch!? The fuck?”
You drag Choso – dopey grin on his face and all – giggling as you rush him to your room. “Yep.”
“I’m not just gonna watch you…” You’re stripped down right in front of them in moments, and both the boys have open mouths.
Listen, you’ve been waiting to fuck them, and cucking Sukuna seemed apt enough punishment after the shit he was pulling today. Your tits bounce when you turn to Choso, slipping off his shirt and running your fingertips across his tattooed chest, he snatches you up and kisses you, surprising you by how needy he is, you thought he may be shy.
He’s so not shy when he eagerly steps out of his pants, and you see all that white dripping through his boxers. “I am not watching.”
“You sit right there,” you point to your bright pink gaming chair, a big ass flower cushion and a plushy on it, Sukuna’s red eyes narrow – for a moment he does scare you, but not when he throws your plushy and pillow on the ground. “Hey!”
“Fuck off,” he sits in the chair and it creaks under his heavy weight, crossing his arms now. “Well, put on your little show – you’ll beg me to join.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, want all your holes filled,” his eyes drift down the curves of your body, his cock aching so badly he unzips his pants, watching your fucked out little gaze. “Like what you see?”
Who wouldn’t like that thick, veiny cock with the pierced reddened tip? Drooling white as he strokes it in front of you. Your throat goes dry as you consider if you can give him such a punishment, but you smile all mean.
“Admit you cheat at Mario Kart.”
“I don’t you brat!?”
“Then no,” you press Choso down on the bed, he’s tugging his boxers off, his pretty cock smacking his belly button, pre just dripping against that black strip of hair over his cock. “Oh… You’re so ready, aren’t you Choso?”
“Please,” he’s tugging you on him, giving Sukuna a view of your ass, your cunt gliding along Choso’s cock and dripping all over. “Oh pretty…”
He’s got a piercing too, right on his pretty pink tip, you’re running your slit right along it, hands braced on his chest, Choso's mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. You’re whining out when he plays with the other, holding them both in his hands as you move.
“Your titties are so pretty,” he whispers, one hand slipping down to your waist, god he’s dreamed of you but not like this – gliding your cunt right on him? He could lift you and slam his cock so deep, but he also wants to let you tease him, edge him till he can’t help himself. “F-fuck… you’re so wet…”
“Rub it in,” Sukuna earns your laugh, peeking over your shoulder and arching so he has a look of your hole from the back. “I’d fuck you right in your ass first.”
“You would not!”
“Sure would, Choso can have your cunt..”
“I’ll take any hole,” you giggle again, kissing your roomie, his lips plush underneath yours, your nails press into his shoulders as his tip bumps your needy clit. “Ah! Choso…”
“Do you l-like it baby?” You nod eagerly, he’s sucking your tits again, dragging you down hard, his cock leaking more pre – so much he worries he did cum, but it’s still thickening against you. “Wanna fill you up with all my cum. Eat it out of you.”
“Mnh,” you’re leaning up now, gliding faster, watching Choso lose it, bruising your waist, his cheeks dusted with pink.
“You really gonna do all this for MARIO KART!? You’re such a petty little annoying brat.”
You glare and turn around, reverse cowgirl right on Choso’s cock, he’s whimpering and Sukuna’s stroking his cock, his lips parted as he takes in your body facing him. “You’re petty! And annoying, you never give me privacy!”
“Neither does he!?” Sukuna stands, his cock so heavy it’s just hanging, dripping on the pink fluffy rug.
“You’re making a mess, Kuna, all over my rug.”
His jaw sets, Choso’s fingers are pressing harder as he drags you up and down, gasping out. “Like you didn’t squirt on me!?”
“Can I put it in please?” Choso’s completely ignoring your spat – how can he think when he’s so close to being able to slide his cock inside your cute, soaking wet hole?
“Y-yes,” you let him lift you and grab his cock, wrapping his hand around the base, tip slipping in your hole. “Mnh!”
“Oh my god,” he drags you down in one stroke – deep inside – so much your tummy bulges for Sukuna to see, he groans at the sight, Choso lifting you and that mess of slick glistening. “You’re so f-fucking wet, god you feel so good.”
Sukuna’s gripping your hair and bending down as you ride Choso’s cock, ass bouncing up and down, nails pressing into his thighs to keep balance, he lifts your ass up and groans, fingers dimpling the plump flesh of your ass. “Making a whole show, aren’t you?”
You take your hand and swipe your thumb over Sukuna’s tip, licking it off and watching him lose it, only to rock on Choso’s cock more, feeling him hit your cervix, making you gasp out desperately. “You’re so deep, mnh!”
“Swear to god,” Sukuna’s stroking his cock when Choso sits up and puts you on all fours, slapping his heavy cock against your ass, you moan and arch, face precariously close to Sukuna’s cock. “Come on, fuck… just lemme…”
“You can jerk off near me,” You gasp out, a broken little moan spilling from your lips as Choso slams right back in, heavy balls kissing your clit, your head falling back. “You’re lucky to even get that.”
“Fuckin’ brat,” Choso’s groaning as you grip him with your gummy walls just fluttering, he can’t even focus on anything but the curve of your ass like this, the way his tip is pressing your cervix, how full his balls are.
Your thighs tremble, hands gripping the blanket, looking back at him all pretty as he splits you open on his cock. “Ch-choso… f-feels so…”
You break off talking when he shoves in hard, pinning you to him and rolling those hips – god Choso could fuck, you didn’t think he couldn’t exactly but you sure didn’t expect that. He slams again harder, pushing your face until your mouth is almost brushing Sukuna’s needy tip, just that has the six foot five man whimpering.
“Fuck… slutty lil brat,” you’d scowl or stick your tongue out but Choso’s hitting it too good, stretching you right out to his shape with messy strokes. Your mouth is open with your gasps, every stroke of Sukuna’s hand on his cock making your tummy clench any more.
“Y-you’re gonna admit you cheat,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when Choso grabs your shoulder and fucks in so deep it hurts. “Ah!”
“Stop fighting,” he whines out when you pulse around him, leaning over you and gripping your chin, turning you to him. “Just cum, lemme feel it milk me.”
Oh fuck.
You kiss him and let him rail you, as Sukuna has to watch the girl he’s jerked off to fuck his roomate – all because he just had to make her mad. He wishes it wasn’t so sexy hearing the skin smacking and your messy cunt squishing with every thrust, already about to bust like a pathetic loser.
“I’m s-sorry, fuck,” he mumbles, you pull back and Choso chuckles, slamming against you again, pushing you to arch more. “All right!? Shit you’re mean.”
“You’re s-sorry, really? Mnh!” He moans and grips your hair, jerking right in front of your face as Choso snaps his hips hard.
“Perfect cunt just gripping me, god jus’ like th-that,” he’s pussy drunk off you, he can’t help but be happy he’s inside and not in your bright pink cuck chair, or jerking it like Sukuna.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that too, but he’s been fisting his cock to you since the first day you met.
“M’gonna cum,” you whisper now, looking up at Sukuna and moaning, breath tickling the tip of his cock. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes, god just… can I just… cum on your tongue, fuck – I’ll let you win, n-next time just…”
You suppose you’ll take a little pity on him, opening your mouth with your little pink tongue out, letting Sukuna jerk it even closer, strings of puffy cum splattering all over your tongue, your mouth, your chin. It’s fucking filthy having it all over you as your orgasm hits, making you swallow all him up.
“Want me to cum inside your pretty lil hole?” Choso asks, you’re still swallowing Sukuna’s cum when he brushes it on your lips, stroking it so even more oozes from that little slit and decorates your lips.
You nod and arch, your nails now pressing into Sukuna’s thighs, Choso busting deep inside your cunt and all he can get is his tip grazing your damn tongue, he’s so desperate he’s happy for that. He’s groaning as he watches you get filled by Choso’s cum, your fucked out face and your crossed eyes.
“Wanna be inside next,” he mumbles, pulling back and groaning, your nails pressing into the tattoos on his muscled thighs as you tremble.
You’re flooded with Choso’s warmth, coating all your walls as he pulses, thickening even more, tip dragging on your spot over and over, making you both sensitive. “Took all that, so greedy.”
“Mhm,” you whisper, licking Sukuna’s cum off his thumb when he gathers it from your cheek, off your chin, slipping it in your mouth. “You came so much, Choso…”
“What about me you brat!?”
You grin and give him the tiniest kitten flick of your tongue on his tip, watching him jerk from just that. “I’ll maybe forgive you.”
“Maybe? Tch,” Choso pulls out of you with a messy pop, watching all his cum flood out of your hole, pushing it right out and dripping on your blankets.
“Look at all you took,” he plays with the sticky mess, fingering it right back inside and smirking at Sukuna. “I think she likes me more.”
“She does not, she’s just sadistic,” he’d be lying if he didn’t say that turned him on more. He helps you up on your knees, tilting your chin up and kissing his own cum off you, Choso’s kissing up your neck, as you feel him slipping out of you. “Evil little brat. You liked that dildo.”
“Maybe I’ll let you use it on me,” his brows lower as he glares again, Choso snorts against your neck, tugging you closer.
“Use my own dick on you!?”
“Then you can fuck me. If you’re nice.” You turn and straddle Choso again, kissing his mouth, he flicks his tongue and gathers the little bit of Sukuna’s cum off your mouth, moaning.
“Can I at least finger you, or am I still in trouble?” Sukuna pouts kind of cutely, you admit, so you nod, and let him kneel on the bed, fingering Choso’s cum back inside you.
you make real good money - so much your roomies plug! choso and emo! suguru have to wonder just what you do for work - but they don't try to pry. they sometimes (well, all the time) get stoned and have their theories though! Some crypto hacker, a sugar baby? You don't even leave the house yet you've always got packages, spoil them even, just what do you do for work?
pairings - plug!choso x camgirl!reader x emo!suguru
warnings - both of em have piercings, weed smoking reader is a cute lil camgirl, fingering, vidding it, oral (m and f receiving) p in v sex, creampies, cum swallowing, spitting - it's just filthy - not proofread - 3k
art is from @/einruji on x <3
Being roommates with the two biggest stoners at your university was certainly interesting, off campus was way more affordable and they so happened to have a room available when nerd Gojo ran off to live at the frat house with his twin. So why not ask you, the girl who's gotten kicked out of her ex boyfriend's across the street?
They're as chill as can be, Choso sells but he keeps it super discreet, the two of them are ridiculously clean, and fuck - Suguru cooks dinner half the days for you all. The three of you love to get stoned and cook the most ridiculous shit, laughing and ordering pizza when it turns out horrible - nothing like those shorts you all share with each other.
No, things are going good, and the fact that they're sexy as fuck and walk around shirtless? Well that just helps you with your career - you're not a musician like Suguru, not a dealer like Choso, no you're a little bit of a secret they can't figure out. You always have your rent on time, but they've never seen you go to work, all summer you've just been hanging out at the house.
Yet somehow you have brand new things arriving all the time, fuck you bought them each a new necklace - something about 'friendship matching' shit, you bought them new jackets, you have been constantly splurging on sushi nights and the finest liquor. You seem to have more money than both of them - and they're certainly not broke.
Just what do you do for work?
The curiosity finally gets them one weekend, Choso’s rolling party favors since they’re hitting a frat party, Suguru’s gonna play with his band there and they’re asking you to come with. It’s not like you don’t want to, it’s that you have your highest tippers tonight, and it’d be foolish not to make bank. You already have a hell of a savings from some of the same men who constantly send you things.
It’s your money that buys Cho and Sugu things though.
You have to admit, you keep getting fonder of them, it could be Suguru’s way of making sure you have your favorite white claw in the fridge, or Choso making sure he got that sativa strain for you. It could be that they’re gorgeous and they smell too damn good, or it could be you’re just ovulating and all sensitive tonight.
But fuck you want them, would it be so terrible to ask them to join? But at the same time, you don’t want them looking a certain way at what you do. They seem super chill but you get a little nervous any time they ask, unable to fully answer them, just sort of giggling and brushing it off.
Suguru’s cooking before they go, his long hair is thrown half up in a bun, the rest flowing down his bare skin, just a thin black wife beater with some band he loves and blood splatter designed trip pants. Choso’s got a baggier shirt, stark white over long black sleeves, his jeans littered with chains, pockets stuffed endlessly full of his growing collection of lighters.
For some reason he stole one from every party he went to – which was a lot.
Suguru’s got a pan of garlic butter shrimp sizzling on the stove, making your tummy growl, since Choso’s grinding some new, ridiculously loud strain he just got in, and he let you test it out – fuck it’s made you hungry, your eyes are so damn red you have to slop drops in. You’re sitting right on the island, crossing your legs and giggling as Suguru has to work around you.
“Always in my way and shit,” he teases, pinching your thigh, you yelp a bit and he tugs you down, hovering a little too close, your phone notifs rolling in nonstop, he faintly notices with a flick of his gaze, hands lingering on your waist.
“Sugu you got a date tonight? You always shave when you do,” you tease him right back, fingers brushing his chin – smooth from where he’d just shaved, you can smell that aftershave this close.
“No I don’t have a date,” he snatches your hand and looks curiously at your phone again, when the timer goes off. “Distracting me, I’ll burn it.”
“My apologies, chef,” Suguru rolls his eyes, you go sit over next to Choso at the little table, his eyes dart across the little robe you have tied around your waist – this pretty pink silk that hits mid thigh and hardly covers shit.
“Wanna try this edible?” You laugh and shake your head.
“No way, yours are too dangerous!”
“This is so yummy, just take a nibble,” he opens the little squares of chocolate, leaning closer and holding it toward your lips, black nailed fingers delicate as they swirl it around temptingly. “Ya know ya wanna.”
“I better not hallucinate or something,” he snorts and shakes his head, but falters when you open your mouth, tongue brushing his fingers as you bite the milky chocolate laced with thc, moaning and shutting your eyes.
Suguru and Choso both just fucking stare at you, as you swipe some of your thumb and suck on it, moaning.
“So yummy!” You look at the silent men curiously, Suguru’s timer goes off and it sort of breaks the spell, but not before both men have to go to their rooms and jerk it to you.
It was sort of a ritual, jerk it to their roommate, act like they didn’t – know they each did – and get jealous when you gave either of them the smallest bit more attention. A cycle of wanting to fuck their pretty roomate who dresses slutty, but never wanting to take it too far, leaving them hopeless and jerking it raw.
They could fuck other girls, but how could they really when you live here all fucking cute and ruining them?
“Shit that’s good stuff,” you’re giggling when they’re getting ready to leave for that party, each have slung a faded jean jacket on, smeared a little liner on their eyes, you’ll use it as gooning material for your cam session tonight.
“Alright, we’re heading out,” Suguru lets you hug him and kiss his cheek, trying to ignore the face he leaks pre from hugs now. “If you need something call us.”
“No, go have fun!”
“Lock up please?” Choso kisses your head, you smile and nod.
The front door clicks shut behind them, and you exhale just a bit – your own routine is to wait a good ten minutes, just to be safe, before you get ready, undoing your robe so just your very slutty lingerie clings to your body. You get into the mood to talk to all these men on your laptop, sorting your blanket and the endless plushes and pillows into a cute arrangement.
You spritz yourself with body spray but that really never made sense – not like the guys smell you, but you still love champagne toast, right along with that little matching candle you light. You have your leds on this pretty pink color, putting on your slutty playlist – yep, you have it titled ‘slutty playlist’ right on your spotify.
Camming was easy in a way, but it was also a bit of a mindset to tap into. Setting up the ringlight, touching up your makeup, all before positioning yourself on your bed just so, making sure the angle looks casual. Your laptop was open, the soft glow of the ring light illuminating your almost bare skin as the viewer count starts to climb.
The problem is, this time? You forget to fully shut your door – you figure they’ll be gone for hours anyway.
“Hey everyone,” they start throwing those tips on stream just to see a hint of your titties. “Aw, did you all miss me?”
*****
"Shit I forgot all my prerolls," Suguru rolls his eyes as he drives toward the party, Choso is checking his pockets that are just full of papers, lighters and empty baggies. "I had them all ready to be bought."
"You're a mess," Suguru yawns and turns the car around, Choso's grinning. "You're lucky we aren't that far."
"What do you think she does for a living, besides being hot?"
Suguru snorts, putting the car into gear and easing up on the clutch. "I figure she's some like, sugar baby? She's gorgeous and chronically online."
"Nah no way, I think she's like in crypto - maybe she's some secret scammer? Like... a hacker or some shit!"
Suguru rolls his pretty amethyst eyes as they near the apartment. "Yeah I doubt it. Fuck I think I did forget my fave guitar pik... I'll come up too."
The two of them try to be just a bit quiet in case you're asleep, you kinda went to your room decently early every night and played your favorite music. Nothing too loud - just enough that if you were right by your room you could hear, the same music is a little louder when they walk in, your door cracked.
"Mmm, where'd I leave em?" Choso tugs at his ponytails that are falling just so, looking around until he pauses, peeking right in your room like a fucking pervert.
You're fucking your pretty cunt with a glass dildo, and the thing is all glittery and pink - like your entire room. All arched on that plush rug, ass facing this bright heart shaped ring light, moaning softly as your cunt is so loud he hears her sucking it up.
Choso almost busts.
"Bro," Suguru scowls as he sees his friend, clearly invading their cute roomie's privacy, but he pauses right fucking behind Choso, his jaw dropped on the damn floor.
"Mnh! Hah I'm not squirting for just a hundred, gonna need way more than that," you tease, pulling the dildo out and turning, lapping your tongue along the ridged glass, tasting your own fucking cunt.
Suguru almost busts.
"Hehe," you're all giggly from the weed, tits out of that robe, just a little garter around your waist and some ripped stockings the only thing covering you. "Mmm, I do taste g-"
You look and see both your roommates staring at you, cocks visibly hard in their jeans, you gasp and slam your laptop shut, stumbling up and dropping the damn dildo, it rolls loudly on the hardwood floor.
"Fuck, shit, fuck," you curse now, waving your hands around and just making your tits bounce more. "I'm so sorry! I thought you all were like gone and... fuck I should've locked the door, please like... I'll find somewhere else to go, okay I-"
"Hey," Suguru barely manages to speak, clearing his throat and picking the dildo up in his hands, coated in your slick, he sets it on the dresser and walks toward you, where you're panicking. "You don't have to go somewhere, fuck, okay?"
"Y-you're sure?" You realize your tits are out then, your puffy pussy showing too, but it seems stupid to close your robe now, instead feeling their gaze drift. "I didn't mean to be... Choso, are you okay?"
"Mnh," Choso cums right in his jeans, cursing as the white liquid spurts all over, so much it leaks dark through the denim. "Fucking cumming, sh-shit..."
"Oh! Oh? Oh..." You blush now, as if you weren't just fucking yourself on cam, Suguru sighs and runs a hand down his face. "That's hot."
"What?" Both men ask that, you giggle now.
"It's sexy you came from just looking at me," you fiddle with your robe a bit, swallowing nervously. "I could clean it up."
"Wha-!?" Choso damn near runs to you, blitzed off his ass now, cupping your face with his big tattooed hands. "Fuck I'd do anything to feel your throat wrapping me."
"That's hot too," you giggle more when he moans and kisses you, Suguru staring in utter confusion, when you pull back and look right at him. "You both should join me, if you all want. We can keep your faces out of it?"
"Oh you wanna..." Suguru drifts off, clearing his throat and walking to you, turning you away from Choso who's needy as he ruts against the curve of your ass, Suguru's hands drifting down your pretty tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples.
"Mnh," you cry out, lashes fluttering. "I've had to fuck myself like every day since I moved here."
"I fuck my toy too," Choso murmurs against your neck, you look back and giggle again, before gasping out when Suguru's fingers find your messy cunt, swirling in your slick.
"If I do your video, I get to eat your pretty cunt out, and I get to cum inside it," you look up at him, all fucked up now.
"And I get to eat his cum out."
"Choso you slut," you whisper, but it's a needy little one - biting down on your lip and nodding then. "I'm down, I'll split the money too."
"We don't need that," Suguru sinks two fingers inside, moaning and curving them up. "Choso thought you were a hacker."
"Hah, what!?"
"He thought you were a sugar baby!"
"Well... sort of. Let me set this back up and..." You work on the stream, the two men's cocks flush and at attention as you kneel on your bed, Suguru behind you, Choso in front of you - and that's when you suck Choso's cum right off his pretty, veiny cock, lapping at that pink tip.
"Mnh," Choso's whimpering as you bob up and down him, while Suguru's on his knees with his face buried in your cunt. His tongue ring catches that soft spot in your gummy walls, before he's lapping at your clit in mean little flicks, spitting right on your hole.
"Arch," he murmurs, you do just that, moaning around Choso's already hard cock as you lap up the very last remnants of his messy white ropes - Suguru is fucking you with his fingers, curving them up over and over until you feel too much pressure.
The boys utterly forget you're on cam, and so do you. Choso, already sensitive from cumming once, he's just whimpering, needy mess, his hands tangled in your hair as you deepthroat him, fucking your throat till it's sore and raw, murmuring sweet apologies.
"S-sorry, jus' feel s'good b-baby," he's fucking harder with firm ruts of his cock, when Suguru leans up from making you squirt on his fingers, slipping them in Choso's mouth. His dark lips wrap Suguru's thick fingers, moaning, cheeks hollowing. "Oh f-fuck, you taste so sweet."
"Mmph," you can't talk, the edible making your body feel even more sensitive, when Suguru's cock slaps heavy against your ass, and his pierced tip drags right along your slit. You jolt and your eyes roll back in your skull when he sinks inside.
"This tight? Oh fuck, that toy didn't stretch you out, huh?" Suguru - usually so sweet - is mean with it, pinning your arms behind your back, throwing you off balance, while Choso holds you up by cupping your face, ramming his cock past your uvula.
"We'll stretch you out baby," Choso murmurs, his lips parted, eyes gone black with how fucked up he already is, how needy when those filthy sounds of your cunt getting fucked and your throat getting rammed fill your room.
You make a filthy amount that night, but you don't check until much later, not when Suguru is pounding your cunt and making you cum around his cock, barbell dragging right in your quivering little hole. When Choso's whispering good girl and Suguru's murmuring that you're a perfect fuck toy.
Suguru has you cumming so much you collapse, lips pulling off Choso with a messy pop, Choso spits right in your mouth - not the sweet little Cho you thought he was, not when he's smacking your cheek and pulling your hair into his fist.
Your thighs are trembling when Suguru busts his load inside you, bent over you from where he's fucked you down into your matress, your mascara making a mess of your pillows as your tears of overstim fall, gasping and drooling. At some point your ring light just fucking falls, and the laptop gets shut by Suguru.
"My turn," Choso murmurs when he spreads your thighs, laying you on your back and shoving them against you, just to scoop all Suguru's milky release on his tongue. Suguru's kissing you all messy and mean, rutting his cock on the mattress, watching his best friend drink him out of your hole. "Fuck you took so much cum, can you take more?"
"Mhm," you're nodding all cute, letting Choso put another load inside you, until so much is pouring from your abused hole you're sticky, they both play in it, fingering it back inside until you're squirting all down their knuckles.
Later - much later - you three are smoking weed in your bed, they've cleaned you all up with their tongues, both having their own roll lit up, the three of you dizzy and high.
"So, you two wanna cam now?" You tease, inhaling the blunt from Choso's fingers as Suguru brushes your hair back, damp from the little shower they took with you.
"You think we should?" Choso asks, you pull up your phone, coughing out smoke and showing him the number. "Oh fuck..."
Choso's kissing up your neck when you peer at Suguru. "What do you think, hmm Sugu?"
"Well," he blows smoke in your mouth, letting you inhale, hands drifting down your body. "I do love small business."
synopsis: everyone thinks that satoru’s a cool frat boy and honestly, you don’t blame them. he looks the part and plays the role perfectly. but really, he’s a digimon fan with a bunch of merch and his supposed “bachelor pad” is completely different to what you were expecting. what was supposed to be a project assignment ends up being a digimon marathon.
word count: 3k
a/n: i don't like fratjo unless he's secretly a loser <3 also thank you to my nae for beta-reading hehe mwah (photos found on pinterest and art by @/inkyck; dividers by @/cursed-carmine)
fem!reader x gojo satoru, university!au, sfw
satoru was assumedly your typical fratboy. just like all the others in his fraternity - cocky, obnoxious, loud.
girls swarm him like moths to a lamp. a 6’3 lamp with an annoying charming grin that made hearts trip over themselves, a body so athletic and a voice so smooth it could hypnotise people. and with the way he receives heart-eyed looks and is always the centre of attention, he probably does unintentionally hypnotise them.
you’ve never understood the charm, though. not that you hate him, per se - you have no reason to. simply being neutral towards him. you’ll admit that he has the face of a model and the body of a greek god, but the admiration stops there.
you’ve only had minimal interactions with him. the crowd which he’s part of is vastly different to yours, giving you no reason to have to talk to him other than the one class you share together.
yet he notices you. the quiet girl who gets on with her work and goes about her day unbothered. the girl who blinks unaffected, even when he throws you a toothy grin and playful wink like it’s second nature for him.
he’s always been drawn to you because you don’t fling yourself at him like most girls (and guys) might. his curiosity kills him. he wants to know more about you. to go further than the simple “morning” or “hey, do you have a pen i can borrow?” (he’s never forgotten his pen; he has no need to ask).
so when your professor pairs everyone up for a presentation project, he’s over the moon when the two of you end up getting paired together. maybe always sitting in the seat next to yours and asking you for clarification on parts of the lectures finally paid off.
and when he invited you to his off-campus apartment because it’s “quieter with no distractions” (he doesn’t want you looking at any of the other frat guys), you were surprised, to say the least.
not because he invited you over rather than meeting at the campus cafe, but because of the digimon posters strewn on his bedroom walls and a shelf nailed into the wall above his desk filled with shounen manga. and below that, on the wall that his desk is pushed against, is a physics-related poster.
he watches your eyes curiously flick over all the dorky merch and decorations, and he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his head. people might think that he doesn’t care about what they think of him, but he desperately wants to know the thoughts going through your mind right now.
you half-expected to see a digimon plush on his bed but instead you find a neatly made bed with navy blue sheets.
is this the same gojo satoru that you know? the heartthrob of the campus? the cool and charming fratboy?
“what’s up?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “you’re looking at my room like it’s a murder scene.”
you snort softly, shaking your head. “nothing. just… didn’t take you for a digimon guy.”
he chuckles and plops down on his bed, leaning back on his palms and manspreading. “ah. well, the secret is out. promise you won’t tell and ruin my reputation?” he jokes, smile widening when your lips curve up softly.
he takes a moment to admire you outside of a class setting. the way you stand by his desk, fingers laced together and your shoulders slightly stiff as you rock back and forth on your heels like you’re unsure where to sit and what to do.
a soft smile tugs at his lips, dimples revealing themselves. completely different to the blinding grins he blesses everyone else with. a calm blue in his eyes despite his heart hammering behind his ribs.
standing up from the edge of his bed, he pulls out his wheeled desk chair and gestures for you to take a seat.
“sit down. i’ll get us some snacks. any preferences?”
“anything, as long as it isn’t those sugary atrocities you call food.”
his head tips back with laughter, his eyes sparkling with amusement when he looks at you again. “if it isn’t food, there wouldn’t be any nutritional value on the label,” he says matter-of-factly, though jokingly, and you can’t help but huff out a laugh.
he’s grinning to himself as he leaves his room and goes to the kitchen to scour some snacks. he can’t ignore the fluttering of his heart nor the warmth creeping onto his cheeks. and he has to mentally keep himself in check.
it takes him a few minutes to grab snacks, solely because he’s trying to remember what you like to eat. trying to remember the glimpses of seeing you have lunch under the oak tree, a book in your lap while you eat. you always look so peaceful and content, even if he wanted to go up to you to talk, he could never bring himself to pop that little bubble of peace.
when satoru finally comes back to his room, where you’re scrolling on your laptop that you propped up on his desk, black frames are sitting on his pretty face. opting to switch from his round sunglasses because his contacts were drying his eyes out.
you look up from the screen and take a double look, surprised to see him wearing glasses - you didn’t even know that he needed them. and you can’t help but admire him subtly as he places a bowl of crisps on the desk next to you, along with a packet of strawberry laces, a bar of chocolate, and two cans of cola.
“… you look cute with glasses,” you murmur, keeping your eyes on your laptop, scrolling purposelessly now to avoid making eye contact.
a grin immediately jumps onto his face like that was the first compliment he’s ever received as he sits back down on the edge of his bed, propping his elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his palm. his blue eyes lock onto you as he feels a flutter in his chest and an unfamiliar churn in his stomach.
“yeah? does that mean i finally have your attention?” his tone is velvety and teasing, but he’s internally filled with giddiness. he swears he feels like he’s floating.
you turn away from your laptop to glance at him curiously. “what do you mean?”
“well, sometimes you act like i’m invisible,” he huffs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “you’re the one person who looks at me like i’m… normal.”
you raise an eyebrow. “you are normal. you’re human, not some god.”
he chuckles at your bluntness, head tilting to the side and his pearly hair follows his movement, falling to the side gracefully like it was scripted. “i like how honest you are. makes you genuine, you know.”
“what, compared to the people who kiss your ass?” you ask, rolling your eyes at the thought.
amusement crinkles the corners of his eyes. “yeah, exactly that. this is… nice,” he admits softly.
it’s a nice change from being with the other fratboys and the people who flock to him. despite his heart beating rapidly each time you look at him or smile, he feels relaxed in your presence. like he doesn’t have to play a role or act a certain way.
you examine him again, trying to read him, trying to solve him like the many equations you’re able to crack.
“is this really you? or is this a new tactic of yours to try and get me in your bed?”
he chokes on his own spit at your direct question, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears turning red like he’s a prude. which, clearly, he’s the opposite of. sliding his way into hearts with his smooth words and wooing girls with a smile that lives on his mouth like it pays rent there.
but when it comes to you, it’s like all his charm flies out the window. like he doesn’t know how to flirt without becoming nervous.
“no!” he exclaims, before clearing his throat. “no, i’m not trying anything, i promise.”
and from his flustered reaction, you can assume he’s telling the truth.
“hm… why do you put on that persona, then? the popular one. assuming that it is a persona.”
his body language suddenly changes and he sits straighter, something suddenly shifting in his expression and his eyes don’t give any hint to his thoughts.
“i thought we came here to work on a project, not analyse me,” he dismisses lightheartedly, a faint smile on his lips. he comes off as unbothered, but at the same time, he manages to swiftly change the subject like he wanted to.
you nod, choosing not to pry. you aren’t friends anyway. turning back to your laptop, you pick up a few crisps while you read a paper.
you hear the pop of him opening a can of the sugary drink and he takes a few sips before setting it back down on the desk, on a coaster that has a pattern subtly referencing an anime.
he grabs his own laptop, and you ask for his email to share the document with him so you can work on the project together. you both agree to do some research first and he sits back against the headboard of his bed, long legs stretched out and his ankles locked.
the packet of strawberry laces rustles slightly as he picks it up and offers you some before mindlessly chewing on them as he works on his laptop, occasionally fixing his glasses.
you’re surprised that he readily agreed to the equal split of work and didn’t waste time on getting started. when you got paired with him, you assumed that you’d have to nag him about it or that you’d end up having to do it all by yourself while he takes half the credit.
though, he can’t help but steal a few glances at you while you work. watching your concentrated face, the way you rhythmically tap your fingers on your laptop while you’re thinking, how you brush your fingers through your hair every so often when it falls into your vision.
he manages to do work for an hour straight before he itches to talk to you again about anything other than the project (he was already missing talking to you after twenty minutes).
“sooo… you like digimon?” he asks, trying to break the silence and make a small attempt at conversation with you, to get to know you.
you look up at him, and the way his hair frames his features makes him look… soft. almost boyish. his frosty eyelashes fluttering when he looks up from his laptop and towards you.
it’s like there’s a different satoru in front of you. one who suddenly doesn’t know how to flirt or make conversation, and somehow his voice is more honeyed when he speaks to you - uncertain and lacking confidence. a contradiction to the air of confidence that follows him everyday like a shadow, even with a mere turn of his head.
you’ll admit that this is somehow more charming. like he isn’t putting up a front or being someone who he isn’t. like this is him.
after a few moments of pondering the switch in his behaviour once more, you reply, “not really. i mean… i barely know the difference between digimon and pokemon.”
a scandalised look befalls his expression as his mouth falls open, halfway through eating a strawberry lace.
“you’re kidding, right?” he scoffs, unbelieving. “digimon is like ten times better in terms of the power system and the characters. it was way ahead of its time, and it’s so much more complex in terms of the world-building and the deeper themes, and--”
suddenly, he pauses. realising that he was rambling and he gives you an awkward smile.
“shit, sorry,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head again. “you probably don’t wanna hear about all that shit.”
“on the contrary, actually,” you say, having listened to his mini rant with contentment. “it’s cute and dorky.”
“i got called cute by you twice today. aren’t i lucky?” he grins, all teeth and dimples. a soft pink dusting over his cheeks. “have i wooed you yet?” he teases.
“i say ‘cute’ in the way that people would call a puppy cute. don’t inflate your ego more than it already has been.” you roll your eyes, though playfully.
his grin never falters. knowing that you find him cute in any way makes him feel like an overly excited puppy. and it sounds much better coming from you compared to anyone else.
“still cute,” he affirms. he leans forward, setting his laptop aside on his bed. “alright, for every hour of work we do, we watch one episode of digimon,” he decides, “you know, to keep up the motivation or whatever.”
a smile tugs at your lips and you consider his suggestion - it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“and,” he continues, checking the time on the clock hanging on his bedroom wall, “we’ve already done one hour.”
he stands up from his bed, stretching his arms over his head as he looks down at you with a smile. you get a glimpse of the ridges of his abs before he lowers his arms, his smile turning mischievous when he notices your eyes flicker downwards.
but he decides not to tease. instead he waits for your answer, hopeful that you’ll say yes.
“alright, just one episode,” you agree, and he beams.
three episodes later, neither of you realise that another hour has gone by; this time, without a shred of work being done. when you glance at the clock and realise the time, you sit up straight on his sofa.
“gojo, we said one episode,” you huff, confused as to how you let the time slip past you. yeah, you probably got distracted by his quiet explanations throughout the episodes and his humming to the soundtrack, but you still don’t know how you let it happen.
when you reach for the remote, he turns to you with a pout. “wait, wait, we have plenty of time to get the assignment done.”
“well, i prefer to stick to a schedule and not waste time.”
“well, you’ll have to get used to being a little more chill, stickler,” he argues childishly, watching you pause the episode and you give him a firm look. “fiiineeeuuhh, i guess we’ll do some work.”
he drags his feet going back to his room and getting back to the project, lazily sprawled on his bed with his laptop while you sit at his desk again. he’s slightly more distracted this time around like he’s itching to do anything else. and it wasn’t the desire to watch more digimon, but to spend more time with you outside of a class or project setting.
you had left a distance between the two of you while you were sitting on his sofa watching digimon, but having you sit close to him made him feel a type of fuzziness that he’s never felt before. he thinks about having your body warmth so close to his, the way you seemed relaxed and were enjoying watching it. he can’t help but want more moments like that with you.
satoru doesn’t realise that he ended up zoning out, pretty eyes on you, glassed over with a deep yearning and a delicate blush on his cheeks.
“… gojo?” you call quietly, a concerned lilt in your voice when you notice him stuck in a trance.
“satoru.”
“huh?”
“call me satoru,” he clarifies, now back to reality and smiling at you softly.
“oh… okay, satoru,” you say, tasting his name on your tongue and the way it rolls off so sweetly.
his heart lurches. he wants to memorise your voice and how you say his name. he wants to bottle up each smile and gaze you give him. he wants to cherish every moment with you. and he can’t help the words that he says next from tumbling out.
“do you wanna go out with me?” he asks, before immediately waving his hands as if to defend himself. “i mean… not as a date, unless you want that. but like-- fuck… i just want to get to know you. if that’s okay with you. i get it if not--”
your light laugh cuts him off from his nervous rambling, and he looks at you with puzzlement and surprise and awe. his palms feel clammy and his heart thumps in his chest it’s as if he can hear it pounding in his ears.
is this what it’s like to have a crush? god, i just made myself look like a fucking loser. but she’s so cute when she laughs i can’t even be upset.
“sure.”
“yeah, whatever, that’s okay. i didn’t think you’d want to-- wait, what?” he looks stunned, like he was prepared for you to turn him down. or at least hesitate before saying yes. maybe he would’ve had to wait for a few more of these sessions before you agreed.
“i said sure. although, i wouldn’t want to term it as a date. not yet, at least. getting to know each other sounds nice if you bring along this you, not the other you.”
his mouth parts slightly, his mind racing with thoughts. “… this me? you like this version of me?” he asks, sounding shocked. and here he thought he was making a fool out of himself.
you nod, giving him a sweet smile that makes his heart trip over itself. “the real you, right?”
“fuck, if i had known that you like this… nevermind, it doesn’t matter now. okay. okay, i’ll plan something for us.” he can’t bite back the smile of pure giddiness, and he feels like a lovesick schoolgirl, internally swinging his legs back and forth. a rush of ideas already come to him - the hard part will be choosing a single plan.
“i look forward to it, satoru,” you say, and he clings onto every word. “but we do still have our project to do.”
he doesn’t deflate like he did before at the mention of the assignment. because this time he has something to keep him motivated. and at least he knows that this won’t be the only reason you guys hang out. if anything, he’s more eager.
redacted x GN!reader / sfw ! / mdni / reverse comfort + aftercare / 1.9k words
a/n: kinda short but i actually couldn't wait any longer i die for soft redacted
redacted doesn’t move when it’s over.
not at first.
he stays where he is, pressed against you like gravity has doubled, limbs heavy and uncooperative, his breathing shaky and uneven.
by the time the room finally grows quiet, redacted is barely holding himself together. his body still hums with leftover tension, muscles twitching faintly as if they’re not allowed to completely rest yet.
there’s no drama to it, no sudden collapse. it’s subtler than that. his body simply just… stops cooperating. the tension that carried him through the last few hours drains all at once, leaving him heavy, boneless, breathing shallowly against your skin.
he’s still pressed close, fused to you, like the entirety of his body has forgotten how to exist without your contact. one arm is looped around your waist, completely slack but unyielding, fingers curled into the fabric of your risen shirt. his other hand rests against your chest, grip weak yet desperate. he’s holding you so flush against him, it’s as if he’s afraid if he loosens his grasp, he’ll be left with nothing.
you feel the way he’s holding on. not out of want, but out of need. something closer to fear. like letting go would mean falling apart completely.
this close, you’re able to feel just how… hot he really is. his skin is fever-warm from exertion, his torso sticky with sweat against your bare stomach. his shaggy, dark hair clings messily to his forehead, curls plastered across his features from his damp skin. every so often his shoulders twitch, a faint aftershock coursing through his entire body.
you begin softly massaging his back, grazing over the satisfying red scratches you scored along both his spine and shoulderblades. he lets out a shaky exhale at the contact of your warm fingers, seemingly sensitive from the various marks.
“hey,” you whisper, careful not to startle him. your voice is soft, anchored.
“breathe, love. it’s okay... i’ve got you.”
for a moment, there’s no response. just pure silence as you continue to slide your hands along his spine. cutting through the silence, redacted’s breathing stutters. he exhales shakily at your words, a sound that wavers halfway between a sigh and a sob. theres a tiny, faint hitch in his tone that you can almost feel as he lets it out.
swiftly, he presses his face further into the curve of your neck. the sounds he makes are so quiet, yet so broken, a sigh that never quite finishes.
you don’t rush him. you stay exactly as you are, one arm wrapped around his back, the other resting atop the back of his head. you allow your presence to do the work words simply are unable to. his heartbeat is still fast against your chest, erratic, like it’s struggling to slow down.
minutes pass. long, unhurried minutes.
gradually, his breathing evens out. the tension in his shoulders loosens leisurely, each exhale softer than the last, but he doesn’t let you go, not even a little.
when you shift a bit to adjust your position underneath him, his grip tightens immediately, reflexive and sharp despite his exhaustion.
“please,” he whispers. his voice is hoarse, barely audible. “don’… don’t leave.”
“i’m right here,” you answer without hesitation. “i’m not going anywhere.”
that seems to reach him more than anything else. his shoulders sag, tension leaking out of them in a visible wave, washing through his body in a way that almost hurts to witness. he lets out a long, shaky breath, forehead sliding against your skin.
after another quiet moment, you speak again.
“let’s head into the bathroom, baby. we can get you cleaned up,” you say gently. redacted instantly shakes his head under your jaw, reluctant on letting you out of his grasp.
you let out a breathy laugh at his attitude.
“you’re exhausted, red. a warm bath will help you relax.”
there’s a pause. his fingers flex once, like he’s gathering what little energy he has left.
“...you’ll stay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“every step,” you promise. “i’ll take care of you.”
that seems to be the deciding factor.
you help him sit up slowly, carefully, bracing his weight with your own body. balance shot, he sways the moment he’s upright, head dipping forward.
you’re immediately there, arm sliding around his waist to steady him without a word. he leans into you heavily, forehead resting against your shoulder, instantly trusting you to keep him upright without question.
his steps are sluggish as you guide him down the hall, one hand still clutching your sleeve, the other hanging loosely at his side. each step feels deliberate, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated.
yet, he doesn’t let go of you for even a second. his weight presses into you more with every step, exhaustion catching up to him all at once. he continues to move as if he’s half-asleep, relying entirely on your presence to orient himself.
you flick on the bathroom light, and redacted instantly flinches, eyes squeezing shut.
“i’m sorry,” you murmur immediately, dimming it to a softer glow. “better?”
he nods weakly with a hum, pressing closer like he’s seeking shelter.
the room fills with the sound of running water as you prepare the bath, testing the temperature carefully with your hand. steam curls upward above the heating water, coating the air, fogging the mirror. you guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, kneeling in front of him so you’re eye-level.
his gaze drifts lazily over your face, unfocused but intent, like he’s memorizing you just to be sure you’re real. his gaze is unfocused, glassy with exhaustion, but there’s something intensely earnest there, like he’s trying to take every single feature of your face all at once.
“you did so well, love.” you tell him softly, brushing stray hairs away from his face.
“i’m proud of you.”
the effect of your words is immediate.
something breaks behind his eyes. his breath catches sharply, chest hitching as though the words struck somewhere unguarded. large tears well in his pearly eyes without warning, spilling over and tracing slow paths down his cheeks within seconds. his hands fumble forward, clumsy and uncertain, and you take them instinctively, holding them between yours.
your eyes widen in shock for a split second, the sudden raw emotion taking you back. you quickly let go of his hands and place your own atop either side of his face. standing on your feet once more, you tilt his head up to look you in the eye, wiping stray tears from the underside of his jaw.
“shhhh..” you whisper. “it’s alright, baby. you don’t have to hide it anymore.”
the sobs come harder now, shoulders shaking as he bends forward, pressing his forehead against your chest. you wrap your arms around him without hesitation, holding him firmly against you. you press his skin against your own, securely, like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.
“i don’t—” his voice breaks completely. “... y’being so gentle.”
your heart aches.
“...because i love you,” you say simply, rising a hand to graze along his scalp. “because you matter, red.”
that’s when he really starts to cry.
not loudly. not dramatically. just… unrestrained sobs that shake through him as he folds forward, leaning into you completely. your arms wrap further around him without hesitation, holding him firmly, securely, like you’re anchoring him to the present.
“i’ve got you,” you whisper over and over.
“you’re safe. you don’t have to hold yourself together anymore.”
he cries into you, shoulders trembling, body shuddering with the effort of it. you feel how thin his composure was, how much he’d been holding back, and you stay with him through every second of it.
when his sobs finally quiet into shaky breaths, you help him into the bath slowly, guiding him down until he’s seated in the warm water. the moment the heat envelops him, he exhales deeply, a sound of pure relief leaving his chest. you stay with him, murmuring repeated reassurance, smoothing your hand over his hair until his breathing begins to slow again.
“there you go, baby.” you murmur. “just relax.”
you kneel beside the tub, scooping water with your hands and pouring it gently over his shoulders, down his arms, down his back. the sweat coating his body washes away entirely, leaving his skin warm and clean beneath your touch. he leans into your tender movements instinctively, eyes closed, lashes dark against flushed cheeks.
you take a soft cloth and carefully wipe along his forehead, smoothing back his damp ombre strands. your movements are unhurried, reverent, each touch meant to soothe rather than stimulate. you wipe his ears carefully, then his flushed cheeks, your touch slow and deliberate.
“i’m here,” you murmur, pressing a chaste kiss against his damp cheek. “you’re doing so good.”
fresh tears slip from the corners of his eyes, silent now, as if the words are sinking deeper than he knows how to process.
you shampoo his hair gently, working the fragranced soap into a soft lather. your fingers massaging his scalp in slow, steady circles. he melts under the touch, head tipping back slightly, breathing finally deep and even for the first time all night. he continues to inhale and exhale, body slackening further, trusting you completely.
“that’s it,” you whisper. “you can rest.”
when he’s ready to step out of the tub, you quickly help him stand, wrapping his body in a large, fully towel immediately to keep the chill away. his weight leans into you again, arms wrapping around your waist, face pressed against it’s rightful spot atop your shoulder.
you dry him off slowly, pressing warmth back into his skin, rubbing his shoulders and back through the towel to ease lingering tension. your thumbs work carefully into tight muscles, coaxing them to relax.
“you’re safe,” you remind him softly. “i’ve got you.”
you dress him in your own soft, oversized clothes, easing fabric over his limbs like a ritual. he barely helps, too drained to do more than follow your guidance.
the blow-dryer hums quietly as you dry his hair on low heat. redacted sits on a chair before you facing the mirror as your fingers comb through the strands, massaging his neck and shoulders as you go. he leans into you, into every little touch you give. in his reflection, you catch his bright eyes half-lidded and struggling to stay open.
by the time you guide him back to bed, he’s barely conscious, body heavy with sleep. he immediately flops down and sinks into the mattress, reaching for you again. with a smile, you allow his arms to wrap tightly around your waist once again.
you scoot in beside him, tugging the sheets up and around you both. redacted curls into you completely, face pressed flush against your chest, clinging like you’re the only safe place left in the world.
“...‘m sorry,” he whispers, voice small and wrecked. “don’ know… why im feeling like this.”
you stroke his hair slowly, steadily, heart aching with tenderness.
“dont apologize, honey,” you say gently. “just know that i love you. rest.”
he breaks one last time—quiet tears soaking into your shirt as he clings to you, overwhelmed by such.. gentleness his mind simply doesn’t know how to categorize.
you hold him through it all. every tear, every stutter.
you don’t let go as his breathing deepens, his grip loosens just enough to rest without fear. as his cries fade and sleep finally takes him, you stay exactly as you are, arms secure around his warm body, heart steady, proving with every gentle touch that he doesn’t have to be afraid of being cared for.
and when he finally drifts off, still holding onto you like a lifeline, you stay, loving him in the stillness, in the quiet.
ren x GN!reader / fluff / slight angst ? / sfw ! / mdni / 3.2k words / [part one] w/ solivan b.
a/n: all over the place, this is full of diff scenarios that consume everything that's left of my brain ^^ honestly just so very sappy and so very domestic with ren in general, he's clingy as shit ofc but that's to be expected
also, this was written while listening to pictures of you by the cure on repeat. ♬⋆.˚
morning cradles you with its soft light through the blinds, warmth coating your figure as you stir. a soft, gentle breath brushes against your collarbone, along with a light weight draped over your waist. you nuzzle into his head atop your chest, careful with your movements.
you don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s ren. his presence is unmistakable. soft, steady, grounding. he's safe, attached to you like a stubborn cat who refuses to let go of its favorite toy.
he always sleeps snugly pressed against you, it's the only way he can truly relax and you know it. it's as if any space between your bodies is dangerous in his eyes, always something to be avoided. but, you don't mind his clinginess in the slightest. you never have.
you stir, shifting just enough to curl a bit closer, and ren tightens his arm around your waist. its instinctive, as if the smallest movement from you might be a sign you’re going away.
his voice comes to you in a low murmur. “don't get up yet,” he whispers hoarsely. “jus' stay here. stay with me.”
your eyes flutter open, vision filled with his hair. his messy, ombre strands falling across his cheek as he nuzzles into your neck. he presses a soft kiss there, warm lips brushing your warm skin.
you hum, running a hand through his soft hair. you shift a bit more, attempting to hint you want to get out of bed.
ren immediately notices your movements. he groans in protest, burying himself deeper into you.
“a little longer angel,” he mutters. “i'm still tired.”
you laugh quietly. “you won't let me leave? not even for a second?”
“mm, won' be able to fall back asleep.” he says immediately, without a hint of shame or hesitation. “waking up without you is the worst kind of morning. please don't leave yet.”
you smile and continue to rake your fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. he nuzzles into your hand, soft and utterly trusting.
“fineee, i won’t,” you promise. “i won't go anywhere.”
ren opens his vibrant eyes then, slowly, as if the world is too bright. he looks up at you with his droopy, adoring pearly eyes that seem to glow in the light.
his voice is a quiet breath. “you always say that.”
“because it’s true.”
“...still don’t know how you do it,” he murmurs, brushing a knuckle along your cheek. you raise a brow, taking his hand into your own. "do what?"
“h-how you say things like that.. and mean them.”
you tilt your head into his touch, your thumb tracing the back of his hand. “ren, i don’t know how to feel anything for you... halfway,” you answer. “it's always for all of you.”
ren's fingers still.
his gaze grows softer, soft enough that your breath catches. his tenderness is formed from his infatuation from you, you’ve learned. where all of his conflicting emotions twist into something starved, tender, and possessive all at once.
he leans forward to kiss you.
his lips press against your own slowly, unhurried. a morning kiss, so warm and sweet, a unique kind of warmth that lingers on your lips like sunlight. his textured hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your skin with reverence.
when he pulls away, he stays close enough for you to feel his breath against your lips.
“you're too good to me,” he whispers.
“you deserve it, renny.”
he lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. if you looked into his eyes a bit too closely, you could've made out the soft heart outlines forming in his iris'.
“say it again?” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.
you bring a hand to his cheek, your palm warm against his skin.
“you deserve it, ren. you're safe with me,” you say softly. “always.”
his eyes flutter shut, and his fingers clutch the fabric of your shirt a little tighter.
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
ren follows you into the kitchen like a shadow. he's silent, close to you of course, completely unwilling to be more than a step away. you're used to his lanky frame trailing behind you. you like it.
you reach for the kettle, and before your fingers touch it, ren's hand comes up behind yours.
“i'll do it,” he says gently.
“you don’t have to.”
he shakes his head, “let me.” his voice is soft but firm.
you step back. part of loving ren is allowing him to indulge in his absurd amounts of acts of service. him constantly trailing around you has all sorts of perks, and most days he won't even let you lift a finger, no matter if it's a task as small as getting something off of the top shelf.
his insistence isn't controlling to you, you think it's just his way of caring. his own way of grounding himself.
he fills the kettle, gently sets it on the stove, then leans back against the counter. immediately, his eyes drift back to you.
you're rummaging through the cabinets for tea leaves, but you can easily feel his gaze boring into you.
you turn to face him. “what?”
ren blinks once, slowly. a slight blush rises to his cheeks, and he carefully raises an arm to cover his mouth behind a sleeve. “j-just watching.”
your lips curve into a smile. “come here.”
he does, immediately.
ren moves to stand behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his chin rests on your shoulder. you melt instantly, leaning back into his chest. his hands slowly rise to slide underneath your shirt—not to do anything more, just to feel your warmth directly. his large palms rest atop your stomach, tracing circles along your abdomen in deliberate strokes.
“your hands are freezing,” you murmur.
“sorry.. they always are.” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck.
you seek the outline of his hand through your clothes, pressing his hands closer to your tummy.
“it's okay, you can warm them up on me.” you giggle.
you lean your head back against his shoulder, turning slightly so you can kiss his red cheek. his breath catches in his throat, and his arms tighten around your figure.
“i'm keeping you warm, too” he assures. “you have goosebumps.”
“ohh, of course." you smile with a roll of your eyes. "i forget you have such an important job.”
ren gives a soft huff of laughter, the kind that vibrates against your back. his nose brushes your jaw, and he kisses you gently. it's faint, barely there, just his lips grazing your skin in a way that sends quiet shivers through you.
you raise a hand to rest atop the side of his head, leaning back slightly to fully meet his eyes. ren's cheeks are warm under your touch, and his expression is nothing short of needy. the minute you look at him, his gaze has already fallen to your lips.
you grin, leaning forward to give him what he wants. with a chaste kiss, ren softly hums into your mouth, savoring the taste of you.
releasing him, you gently move a strand of stray pink hair behind his ear before going back to what you were doing before.
he almost seems frozen in time for a moment after you let him go, slow blinking with his pupils completely dilated. he snaps back into reality once you lean over to grab a jar of honey, the loss of contact on his chest making him pull you back.
he pulls you flush against him once more, his head finding its rightful place atop your shoulder again.
“you're being affectionate today,” he says, sounding equal parts pleased and overwhelmed.
you grin, stirring a spoon in the jar. “you like it.”
“i-i do,” he admits softly. “feel spoiled.”
“is that possible?”
“for me?” ren murmurs. “yes.”
you set the jar back down, twisting your hips to turn in his arms. catching your footing, you place your hands to rest on his chest.
“well, you can stop me anytime.”
his pearly eyes looks down at you with such a softness that borders on aching.
“you say that,” he whispers, “but you know i never will.”
your smile falters. not out of discomfort, but out of understanding. once more, you cup his face with both hands.
“that's fine,” you say. “i'm not planning on stopping giving you the love you deserve.”
slowly, a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. his gaze is full of love, full of life.
“i know,” he murmurs. “i know.”
after making your teas, adding your honey and sharing a few more kisses, the both of you make your way to the living room to officially relax.
you sit atop the loveseat with your legs tucked underneath you, blanket on your lap, sipping your tea and occasionally humming to yourself. every so often, you feel ren's eyes drift over to you, lingering. his eyes are always so full of something longing.
“i can feel you staring,” you say without looking up.
“y-you're stunnin',” he says without shame.
your cheeks heat. “haha, ren…”
“what?” he asks with a frown. sure, the words spewed out of his lips without a second thought accidentally, but he's genuinely confused, as if the truth of it is obvious.
you tuck the blanket tighter around your legs. “it's.. embarrassing when you say it so casually.”
looking up at him, you let out a lighthearted laugh.
“'s not casual,” he answers quietly. “i'm being serious.” he's pouting.
you set your cup on the coffee table and sigh playfully. “come here.”
of course, he never hesitates. ren sets his own mug next to yours and moves without sound, settling beside you the way water seeps down the river. his hand reaches for your knee under the blanket, squeezing it gently, as if reassuring himself you’re real.
you lift your arm and let him tuck himself against you, head resting atop your own. his hair smells like rosemary and soft soap. gently, you rake your fingers through it, combing through the strands slowly. you reminisce of this morning, the peace of laying in bed together only just a few hours ago. the pure bliss and intimacy of your routine, waking up together, constantly expressing yourselves through physical touch and sweet words. no matter where the both of you are, ren will never falter in making you feel seen and loved, making you feel special.
he constantly expresses how he's not sure what he's done to deserve you, but honestly, you understand that feeling all too well.
ren sighs, the tension leaving his body almost instantly as you continue to massage his scalp.
he hums in content. “mm, y'good at that,” he murmurs.
“styling your hair?”
“mhm.” he turns slightly, nuzzling against your head. “calming. whenever you play with my hair everything goes quiet.”
your chest tightens, and you lean up to press a soft kiss to the top of his head.
“you deserve quiet,” you whisper.
ren stiffens, then he melts. his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt.
“y-you keep teasing,” he breathes out. “s-stop it.”
“i'm being serious.” you say, giving a mocking smile.
his eyes close. “it feels good,” he says softly. “keep going.”
you kiss his temple. then his cheek. then the corner of his mouth.
ren shivers.
his eyes open, his gaze wide and full of want.
“angel...” he whispers.
tea long forgotten, you tilt his chin with your thumb and kiss him slowly. like pieces of a puzzle, you melt into each other. one of his hands reaches for your lower back, pulling you flush against him. there's nothing desperate about it, at least not today. just pure happiness, need. the quiet belief that this moment is a place he can live in.
when you finally part, ren instinctively leans forward as if following your breath.
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
the day passes in soft colors. it goes by so quickly, as if sand were slipping through your gapped fingers. coming back home from running around the city for a few hours, you decide to cook a simple dinner for the two of you. of course, ren fulfills his duty of both washing dishes and taste testing whatever goods you hand feed him.
after your meal, the two of you migrate back to the couch. you sit back down just in time, watching various golds and pinks coat the living room walls from the setting sun beyond the blinds.
ren is sat behind you, his long legs bracketing your hips as he pulls you against his chest. his sleeved arms wrap around your figure from behind, hands resting on your stomach, fingers tracing lazy circles. you're starting to believe this is his favorite position to hold you in. caged in his embrace, snug against his large frame.
you lean back, resting your head against his shoulder with a sigh. he exhales along with you, like your weight against him is something grounding.
“you're so warm,” he whispers, snuggling into you even more. “so soft.”
you laugh at his nuzzles. “aww, are you sure you ate enough, renny?” you ask, knowing he only got up to follow you after you finished your own meal.
“mhm.” he hums. “you made it so good, angel. i'm glad we tried that new recipe.” you scoff at the word "we."
with a smile, you place a hand over his. immediately, he intertwines your fingers.
a few beats pass as you gently rock each other back and forth, the motion and warmth in your stomach slowly lulling you to sleep.
you flutter your eyes shut, content with being so enveloped by ren.
just before you could completely drift off, ren quietly begins to speak.
“angel... c-can i ask you something?”
of open your eyes with a few small blinks. “mhm... of course.”
his voice is small, and he speaks with such caution it makes you frown. “do you l-like… this? us?.. they way that i am?”
you turn your head slightly to look at him. “ren.. i love the way that you are.”
his breath catches, and behind his gaze, all you can see is pain.
“...i know what you’re asking,” you add softly. “i love when you always have me close, when you insist on following me around. whenever you voice how badly you always want me near.” you massage his fingers, careful to graze over the texture of both his hands, and his ring.
"i love you, ren. everything you do for me."
his eyes soften with a vulnerability so intense it actually takes you by surprise.
a few beats pass, and his eyes dart across your features as if truly comprehending exactly what you're saying to him right now.
"...you do?”
“i do,” you nod repeatedly. “i love how much you care... and i love how intensely you love me.”
he slowly lets out a breath, shaky and relieved.
“i-i worry,” he admits, “that i'm too much.”
you twist slightly in his arms, placing a kiss against his cheek. “you're enough. more than enough.”
ren's eyes grow damp. they're not filled with tears, but something... close. something just as delicate.
you kiss him before he can even catch his breath. you kiss him with such slow tenderness it's almost as if the connection speaks for you when words wont.
he sighs against your mouth, arms wrapping around you tighter. releasing his mouth, you're out of words to say all together. you just massage his limbs, assuring him you're here, in the present right alongside him.
after the sun sets, you and ren end up in bed earlier than usual. once you were caught drifting off for the second time, ren carries you to the bedroom. insistently, as if he’s waited all day to curl up with you again.
he lies on his side facing you, one hand on your waist, the other gently brushing your cheek with tender sweeps of his thumb. his eyes trace along every detail of your skin.
your eyes are shut, but the feeling of being analyzed by him overrides your sleepiness. you slowly open your eyes, met again with none other than ren's stunning blue iris' staring right back at you.
you pull up the blanket beneath you to cover the lower half of your face in an attempt to hide from him.
"whaat.." you mumble, holding the plush blanket just below your nose.
“y' so cute,” he whispers, except his voice sounds.. different than normal. deeper.
he speaks with barely any sound, gaze fallen directly onto your lips as he lightly tugs the blanket down.
“mine.”
you're unsure if he intended on you hearing it, but you heard it clearer than ever. you giggle, bringing his hand to your uncovered face and pressing a kiss to his palm. “yours,” you agree with a nod of your head. “and you’re all mine, renny.”
ren's eyes widen at your words. his gaze softens, eyes piercing into yours.
“say it again,” he breathes.
“you're all mine,” you repeat.
he exhales shakily, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. you close your eyes at the connection, left with feeling nothing but the warmth of his jagged breath across your cheeks.
“y'don’t know what that does to me,” he murmurs.
you scoot closer to him, your bodies fitting together naturally. ren's arms wrap around you immediately. one hand traces the curve of your spine in slow, steady strokes. the other rests at your hip, thumb smoothing over the fabric of your shirt.
he's so gentle, even despite his icy fingertips, the warmth of the rest of his body is unmistakable.
you run your fingers along his scalp, then right down to the underside of his jaw. he leans into every touch like he’s starved.
“ren?” you whisper.
“angel?”
“can i hold you?”
he gives a soft, surprised laugh. “you never have to ask.”
you wrap your arms around him, tighter than usual. snuggling closer, ren sighs into the crook of your neck, his hand sliding up your back to pull you tighter.
“this's my favorite place,” he murmurs.
his hand trails to the small of your back, applying slight pressure, pressing your abdomen closer to his own. “righ' here,” he says, voice low and sincere. “y'so warm.”
you kiss his forehead. his arms tighten around you, and for a long time, neither of you say anything. you just breathe together, warmth melting into warmth.
eventually, ren whispers: “angel... y-you're too good to me.”
you tense slightly.
his lips brush your neck. “the best thing that's ever happened to me,” he whispers.
you kiss the top of his head, and with so many emotions circling in your chest, you mutter against his skin.
“i love you, so much ren.” you murmur.
ren freezes for half a heartbeat, his breath trembling against your body.
“i love you,” he breathes. “s'fucking much angel..”
he presses soft kisses along your jaw, your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. every peck is so slow, so reverent.
“never let me go,” he whispers.
you grin and kiss him again.
“i won’t,” you promise. “not ever.”
ren pulls you closer, as if holding the promise itself.
in the quiet glow of the night, wrapped safely in the pure warmth of each other, you know: you never say no to ren because you simply don’t want to. you both are always in such an intimate competition of who can make the other happiest. because you love him so endlessly, every soft, intense, obsessive piece of him. and you know all too well that he'll always love you back just as fiercely.
