the specialist pinky

22 🫶🏾🩷 • MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

[specialistpinky]

pick your poison ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ decide your fate

this library accepts all kinds of people except for bigots such as racists, TERFs, sexists, z1os, PdF files, queerphobes, and so on.

hello! i'm your librarian, ari ⋆·˚ ༘ * choso's type, shigaraki's baby mama, & l lawliet's wife <3 ⋆｡°✩₊ prns : ̗̀➛ they/it age : ̗̀➛ 22 attributes : ̗̀➛ black femme 4eva | pan | polyam | creative writing major | femdom enthusiast~

please accept our terms to get ur library card have a question? call our #pinkyhotline! read the #yappypinky bulletin for updates and fun stuffs

╚⏤⏤⏤╗｡･ﾟﾟ･scan our catalog･ﾟﾟ･｡╔⏤⏤⏤╝

╚⏤⏤⏤╗｡･ﾟﾟ･visit our other libraries･ﾟﾟ･｡╔⏤⏤⏤╝

AO3 Wattpad

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! pls put your age in your bio or spruce up your blog to avoid being blocked too ^_^

[kiyomitakada]

world heritage post

[arabaka]

pinching Reigen's nipples through his white shirt

[f-tality0]

Choso kisses

[dragonnon]

Theres somethinf horribly cursed about this

[zurka]

[hunnismokah]

choso spread my husband omg

[whyinheavensname]

let's do it, ride it, my pony - chapter eight

pairing: fem!reader x sukuna x toji x choso

warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, sexual tension, it'll definitely get horny in later chapters so I'll update warnings as they come, mentions of side-ships (especially satosugu), alcohol drinking, smoking, everyone's in their thirties, no curses au, tattoo!artist sukuna, divorcedDILF!toji, too many 90s music references, unprotected sx, consent under the influence of alcohol, masturbation, oral (fem rec), dry humping/thigh riding, Toji's stupid ideas, soaked panties, Foursome F/M/M/M, m/m, f/m, deep throating, sloppy blow jobs, overstimulation, mentions of blood, spanking, use of a 'safe word' once but all's good, you only needed a minute there, cum eating, ass play (fingering, rimming, fem rec), breath play, getting caught in the act, facials, exhibitionism

updated warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of a concussion, once again a lot of spit

summary: Having roommates is all fine and dandy until one of them gets a boyfriend and keeps y'all up all night. This is followed by a really stupid drunk idea, too many naked muscles and a healthy dose of idiocy.

a/n: I'm really sorry this took me so long, but my mental health thought it'd be funny to let me suffer. I hope this chapter makes up for it! (I also, finally, got the mixtape for this story done, you can find it here.)

chapter I / chapter II / chapter III / chapter IV / chapter V / chapter VI / chapter VII

chapter 8 – about failed facials, broken bones and mediators (part II)

present

“I fucking knew it!” Hajime’s voice rings through the kitchen, one finger pointing at you and a manic smile sitting on his face. With his sudden movement, his bag of chips goes flying through the kitchen, crumbs littering the floor and making an overall mess you can’t wait to clean up – not. “I called it the moment you told that little lie of yours, allergy, pah!” 

Hajime’s cackling madly, body swinging back and forth and for a moment you hope he’ll overbalance himself and fall face first on the tiles. He even made airquotes! You sigh in agony, burying your face against Sukuna’s shoulder who pets your leg in sympathy. Hajime already has his phone back in hand and you’d bet your ass that he’s writing Utahime and Uraume the newest revelations like the gossip-loving menace he is. The next few days at work will definitely be an absolute shitshow again. 

“I told you, they aren’t as innocent in all of this as they want you to believe,” Satoru snarks, a self-satisfied smile on his face while he leans back in his chair, head tipped back into his neck haughtily. You want to punch his face and ruin any symmetries it possesses. At the head of the table, Hiromi makes a so-so motion with his hands, the beer he’s still holding on to almost spilling over. 

Satoru looks at him offended, outrage shining in the blue of his eyes in an instant. 

“Personally,” Hiromi starts explaining himself. “I’d say that the second incident,” he motions to you and Sukuna, a twinkle in his eyes, “isn’t as bad or offensive as what you did on the kitchen table.” 

“I had to see his monster of a dick!” Satoru’s slapping his hands on the wooden tabletop, half standing up and leaning forward. He’s pointing a finger at Sukuna, at his lap specifically, and before either of you can even blink, Sukuna lunges forward, snapping his teeth only a few millimetres away from Satoru’s outstretched finger. 

Satoru shrieks, stumbles and falls backwards over his chair in a flurry of limbs. 

“No! NO!” Hajime whines, hopping off the counter and sending even more chips flying. Hair’s slipping out of his space buns and he looks as if he’s short of going mad. “I wasn’t ready, Sukuna! How could you do this? Fuck, Uraume will never give me a discount again!” 

Hajime looks short of crying and next to you Toji hides his laughter behind the bottle of vodka. Hiromi doesn’t even bat an eyelash at his boyfriends’ outrage and Sukuna slowly turns his head in the younger man’s direction, red eyes dark and screaming bloody murder.

(Mentally, you applaud yourself at not moaning out loud – Sukuna’s way too sexy when he’s dared to commit a felony.)

Hajime, who seems to be more in tune with his survival instincts than Satoru, throws his hands up in an immediate sign of surrender and makes his way back on the counter. He’s muttering something under his breath that suspiciously sounds like ‘he will end up in jail some day’ and Toji lies his forehead down on the table, his whole upper body shaking with laughter. 

Sukuna, meanwhile, leans back in his chair and pulls you up on his lap again. You slipped in between his legs during his almost successful jump into the pits of cannibalism, and you absolutely hate your fucking life. You really can’t emphasize this enough. You snag the bottle of vodka right out of Toji’s hands, taking the biggest gulp you can get down without vomiting all over the table. 

“Can we get back to the topic at hand, please?” Suguru sighs, looking as done with it all as you. There’s not an ounce of sympathy on his face when he watches his boyfriend scrambling up from the floor and Hiromi motions for him to go on. “Can I ask why you think it isn’t as bad? I mean it’s basically the same situation as on Monday.” 

“No, it definitely isn’t,” Hiromi snorts, Hajime pushing another beer in his outstretched hand. “Firstly,” Hiromi lifts a finger. “It wasn’t the middle of the day when you have to expect everyone coming back from work. Secondly,” another finger lifts up and Suguru gets smaller and smaller in his chair. “Neither of them was naked –”

“His dick –” 

“Was faster back in his pants, than yours,” Hiromi’s just bulldozing on, flattens Satoru’s argument before he even has the chance of fleshing out his bullet points. You should talk to Uraume about giving Hiromi a life-long discount. “And last but not least, the most important detail if you ask me, they didn’t spill any of their body fluids,” he shudders visibly, takes another sip of his beer before he finishes his sentence, “on shared furniture.” 

Neither Suguru nor Satoru dare to open their mouths again. It’s slightly (speak: very) satisfying to hear that someone as levelheaded as Hiromi shares your opinion that those two idiots definitely crossed a few more boundaries than you and Sukuna. 

“Shall I continue with what happened on Thursday then?” Toji’s propping his elbows up on the table, a smirk playing on his face and stretching the scar on his lips. He looks good like that, your pussy twitching and you squirm on Sukuna’s lap for a moment. You decide to take another big gulp of vodka. 

As if he knows what’s going through your mind, as if he knows that one look at Toji’s much too handsome grin is enough to unravel you completely, Sukuna squeezes your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt and over your skin, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. He makes sure that Choso’s the only one able to see what’s going on, and his sharp teeth graze over the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. 

“Behave,” he whispers, voice dark like charcoal, tongue flicking against your earlobe. He leans back, gives you space and smirks in the same way Toji does. What an absolute asshat. You can hear Choso’s muffled snort and you make sure to glare at both of them. Fuck, but you hate them. Maybe you don’t need boyfriends. Or love in general. Or good dick. 

Yeah, who are you kidding, really. 

At the head of the table, Hiromi sighs. “Get on with it.” And Toji does.

Incident report 3

Date: 23-10, 17:37

Person(s) involved: Satoru, Suguru, Toji, You

Location: Bathroom

Property Damage(s): Showerstall, Bathroom Tiles

It’s a typical autumn day, the sun nowhere to be found and the sky painted in various shades of grey. It’s raining heavily and you’re absolutely drenched when you finally come home from work. Upon entering the house, you shake your head like a dog, drops of water flying everywhere, not that you care much. You spot Toji as soon as you look up again, the man apparently on his way to the kitchen. 

“Hey,” you smile at him, hoping for a kiss before you’re going upstairs to hunt for some much needed dry clothes. Toji spins around as if you actually startled him, an expression on his face like a deer caught in headlights. Well, that’s a new one. 

“Hi,” he grunts, not coming any closer, hands clenched into fists at his sides. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, peeling yourself out of your soaked jacket and dumping it on the floor, deciding that that’s a problem for future-you. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Toji’s shifting his weight from one foot to another, throwing a look in the direction of the kitchen, eyes roaming back to you. 

“Yeah, I –” he sighs deeply, one arm lifting and then he’s rubbing his neck nervously. Yeah, something’s definitely wrong here. You watch him, how he obviously debates something in his head, how his body doesn’t seem to be able to hold still. “Just go upstairs and take a shower, yeah? Meet me in the kitchen in half an hour?” 

“Sure,” you say slowly, making your way to the stairs. Toji isn’t saying anything else, only stomps into the kitchen, the door falling close with a heavy thud behind him. Talk about strange, what the actual fuck? 

Before you can tell your brain to shut the fuck up, one horror scenario after another flickers through your mind like a movie set on fast forward: Is he already tired of you? Does he not share your opinion that things are going smoothly right now? That ‘figuring things out’ is on its best way to be a success? Did he, maybe, finally realise that he’s way out of your league and could have someone better? Someone prettier?

You stop at the top of the stairs, slapping your own cheeks with a groan. 

“Fucking stop it,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head in a desperate attempt to get rid of your anxious thoughts. Seriously, one of these days you should stop catastrophizing every little thing – maybe Toji just has a bad day and needs someone to talk to. Maybe something happened to Megumi and he doesn’t know how to handle it. Maybe he had a relapse and started gambling again. 

You laugh at your own thoughts. How ridiculous can you actually be? Here you are, demanding of yourself to stop expecting the worst just to do it all over again. Maybe you should stop calling other people idiots when you’re the biggest one you know.

And with that thought, you make your way to the bathroom, taking a shower and warming yourself up until your skin’s all pruny and rosy. You get into some dry clothes, your favorite jeans and an oversized hoodie you’re sure is actually Choso’s and half an hour later you enter the kitchen. 

The door isn’t even closed behind you when you already stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide. You need a moment to comprehend what you’re seeing in front of you. Toji’s at the stove, cursing up a storm while he stirs something in a pot. Alright, he’s cooking, and – 

Is he wearing a fucking dress shirt? You pinch yourself to make sure you haven’t entered a special kind of nightmare, gaze stuck on Toji who’s looking as if he’s short of crying. What in heavens’ name is happening here? 

“Erm –” you take a careful step forward. “Toji?” 

He spins around, his green eyes wild and he looks absolutely stressed the fuck out. Not even in your weirdest dreams would you have thought to come up with this – Toji being stressed. It’s just, well, he’s never stressed. Fuck, Toji’s the most chill person on the fucking planet! Hell, a fucking christmas tree burned to a crisp next to him on the local christmas market once and he just stood there, shrugging his shoulders at all the panicked yelling, and smoking a joint without a single care in the world. 

And that guy is now frantically stirring something in a pot, messy black hair clinging to his forehead, damp with sweat. 

“You’re too fucking early,” he grumbles, gesturing for you to sit down at the table. You do as told, still not sure that this is real, and your eyes almost bulge out of your head when you notice the red candle in the middle of the table, not to mention the tablecloth. Seriously, what the fuck?

It only gets worse from there. 

Toji uncorks a bottle of red wine, puts on music, some r’n’b soul mix that’s supposed to sound sexy but only goes on your nerves no matter when or where you have to listen to it and you’re searching for Freddy Krueger under the table when you spot a single red rose lying on the kitchen counter. 

You want to flee to another country. Or grab yourself a bottle of tequila to get drunk fast enough to be able to live through whatever the fuck this is. On the stove, something starts smoking heavily.

“FUCK!” Toji yells, dumping the bottle of red wine, which of course tips over and seeps through the tablecloth, much to your satisfaction because there’s nothing more disgusting than dry red wine. Toji throws the pan with something burning inside into the sink, opening a window for some fresh air. You keep your silence, watching him cursing up another storm and he looks just about ready to rip out his own hair. 

A half sob slips over his lips and that’s the moment you decide to finally intervene. You get up from the table, crossing the kitchen and sliding a hand up his back, following the curve of his shoulder and pushing against it until he’s turning around. Toji looks absolutely dead inside.

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?” You make a loose gesturing motion to the stove, the table, the fucking rose. 

“A date,” Toji grits out between clenched teeth and you need another moment to work through that. Is he for real?

“A date,” you echo, voice void of emotion. 

“That’s what you women want, isn’t it?” Toji sounds absolutely exhausted, shoulders slumping when he’s leaning back against the sink. “This shit,” he makes a waving motion all over the kitchen, “is what Yuna always wanted, expected really. And Choso took you on a date, Sukuna took you on a date and I –”

You’re slapping a hand over his mouth before he can say anything else. He’s still looking absolutely done with the world and it’s weirdly sweet, goes down your throat like honey, that he was ready to do something for you that he absolutely loathes, even if it’s absolutely unnecessary. 

“Toji, you’re a moron,” you tell him, a chuckle following your words. Toji’s wrapping a hand around your wrist, pulls your hand away from his mouth. 

“I know I fucked this whole thing up, but I swear –”

You try another method of shutting him up, one of your hands sliding to the back of his neck, fingers digging into the tendons there, pulling him down and pressing your mouth against his. You flick your tongue against his bottom lip, bully your way inside, tongue’s sliding all over each other. It works, shuts him up quickly, and Toji’s looking a little dazed when you let go of him again. 

“Sit down,” you demand and he does, shuffles over to the table while he’s still looking as if someone stole his favorite toy and refuses to give it back. You straddle his lap unceremoniously, arms wrapping around him, fingers carding through his mess of hair. Before you start talking, you search for his gaze, holding it, making sure he’s actually listening. 

“Did you, maybe, ask Sukuna what we did during our first date?” Toji furrows his brows, obviously not really knowing where you’ll go with this but he shakes his head, hands settling on your waist, resting. You hum, placing a quick kiss on both his cheeks. “He took me to a concert,” you tell him. “Left me alone at the bar as soon as the first band started playin’.” 

Another kiss, this time on the tip of his nose. “He came back to me between sets, all sweaty and bloody and high from violence,” you smile, flicking your tongue against the scar on Toji’s lips. “Sukuna had the absolute time of his life, and you know what? I did, too. It was a perfect date, 10/10, hands down.” 

Toji’s frowning, steam basically coming out of his ears while he tries to work through something in that handsome head of his. 

“And now, tell me this –” you ghost your lips along the line of his jaw, teeth pulling on his earlobe and making him hiss, fingers tightening around your waist for the smallest of moments. You lean back again, his dark green gaze clashing with yours. “Do you think Yuna would have liked the date I had with Sukuna?” 

“Absolutely not,” Toji snorts, his thumbs slipping under your hoodie, stroking over your skin. He’s furrowing his brows again after a few seconds, something at the tip of his tongue. “But Choso –” 

You let out a sigh, leaning halfway over him until you get a grip on the pack of cigarettes lying on the kitchen shelf. If you push your chest a little harder into his face than necessary it’s no one else’s business but your own. Toji squeezes your waist again, legs twitching and you grin to yourself, coming back down to sit on his lap again. You light up two cigarettes, give him one and you both take a long drag, you trying to find words to explain it in a way he understands. 

“You’re right when you say that my date with Choso was a little higher on the ‘traditional’ dating side of things, yes,” you start explaining, smoke curling up between you. “But Choso also knows that I’m not really fond of romantic things and he toned it down for me,” you take another drag of your cigarette, Toji still listening. “The thing is, that I know him in the same way he knows me. Choso likes romantic shit. Roses, candles, sweet gestures and cute little gifts – he lives for that. What a terrible girlfriend would I be if I denied him experiencing these things? So we met each other somewhere in the middle and I really, really loved our date. It was sweet, it was perfect, solely because it’s him and I love to see him happy.” 

It’s quiet between you for a while, both of you finishing off your cigarettes. 

“I think,” Toji says slowly, thumbs once again stroking back and forth over your skin. “I think I get what you’re tryin’ to tell me.” 

You smile at him, your lips brushing against his, noses bumping together. 

“And just for the record,” you continue, your breaths’ mingling in the small space between your faces. “I like you because you’re you and because you don’t give a single flying fuck about romantic anythings. I like you, because you’re an absolutely disgusting filthy asshole and I don’t want you any other way, alright? It’s just like I don’t want Choso to be any different, I like him just as he is, romantic bullshit included, and it’s the same with Sukuna and his absolutely insane ass.”

Toji chuckles, all tension finally seeping out of his body. “Fuuuck,” he groans, opening a few buttons of his ridiculous looking dress shirt. “Thank fucking god,” he closes his eyes, pulls you a little higher on his lap. “I don’t think I would have survived another relationship with shitty wine and this fuckin’ scratchy as fuck shirts.” 

“Well, seems like we don’t have to find out if you’d survive or not,” you mutter, lips back to ghosting over the skin of his jaw, tongue licking a stripe up his cheek, his lashes fluttering, his legs twitching again. “So, how about you take me to your room for our date?”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, dip your tongue into the small space right above his upper lip, rolling your hips down and against him, one, two, three times. Toji groans, hands moving, roaming over your sides, up and down, fingers teasing against the curve of your tits, your breath hitching in your chest. You hide your face in his neck, lips right next to his ear. 

“And when we’re up there,” you continue, “you’ll throw me on your bed, put on Deftones’ Around the Fur and –” you pause again, grinding down right over his hardening dick, “and then you’ll fuck my brains’ out.” 

“Yes, yes, so many times yes,” Toji groans, already standing up and moving through the kitchen with your legs wrapped around his waist. You chuckle when he kicks a chair away, your lips finding a home on his neck while he crosses the living room in a few long strides.

You only need half a minute until the door of Toji’s room is banging close behind the two of you and he’s throwing you on his bed. You take a deep breath upon landing on his sheets, the scent of his musk, of sweat and smoke, making you a little dizzy. Toji’s busy connecting his phone to the speakers and you use that moment to take off your clothes in rapid speed, shoving them off the bed and on the floor without a second thought. Toji’s still not looking at you, eyes focused on the display of his phone while he searches for one of your favorite records. 

Confident for once, especially after seeing that Toji’d try doing things for you he absolutely loathes, you sprawl out on his mattress, legs spread widely, your own fingers dancing over your skin, down over the valley between your tits, further down over your stomach, slipping through your folds, gathering the wetness there and smoothing it all over your clit. 

Half a moan spills over your lips when you dip a finger inside yourself, the walls of your pussy fluttering, twitching and it’s in that exact moment that My Own Summer (Shove it) starts and Toji turns around, his dark green gaze landing on his bed, on you and your pussy stuffed with one of your fingers. 

Toji’s phone clatters onto the floor but he isn’t even batting an eyelash, solely focused on you spread out like a feast for him to devour. He’s staring at the spot where your finger thrusts in and out of you leisurely, biting his bottom lip while he’s slowly coming closer. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, fingers now busy opening the buttons of his shirt, dropping it onto the floor and kicking it away before he’s slipping out of his pants. His dick’s hard, the outline of it pushing against his boxers, a damp spot spreading over the front of them. 

Toji crawls onto his own bed, right in between your legs, another groan leaving his mouth when he hears the squelching sounds of your pussy every time you thrust your finger back in. He’s wrapping his hands around your ankles, slides them slowly up your calves, lifts your legs and kisses them, a chaste one at the back of your knee, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He places your legs down again, a breathy moan escaping you when his breath ghosts over your wet folds. 

He isn’t stopping there, isn’t lingering where you want him to. Instead of licking all over your pussy, he’s littering your stomach with soft kisses and small kitten licks, ignoring your tits before he’s letting his weight rest on you, before he’s blanketing your body with his own. 

It’s instinct to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, another primal urge to pull him down into a messy kiss and buck your hips up against him. There’s no hesitance between the two of you, only a deep-seated need, a want that’s as wild as it’s tender, kind of gentle. Your teeth clash, dig into bottom lips until you’re tasting blood, but both your fingers are soft, almost reverent in the way they slip and trail over skin. 

His tongue is deep in your mouth, mapping out your teeth, the roof of it, thrusting deep until you gag and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. He’s moaning into your mouth and you’re swallowing it down, giving it back, hips rolling up and against his still clothed dick, the heat of him ghosting over your pussy, making you clench and pulse around nothing. 

Drool spills out of the corner of your mouth but Toji’s there in an instant, licks it up with one broad lick of his tongue just to pry your mouth open again, to spit it back into you a few seconds later. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the glob of spit sliding over your tongue and down into your throat, moan after moan tumbling into the space between you. 

Toji grins, scar stretched thin and eyes glinting, and he’s so fucking handsome like this, and you watch him gather spit in his mouth again, open your own without him having to tell you, sticking out your tongue. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, letting spit drip down from his tongue slowly, right into your waiting mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he continues mumbling, straightening up, hands sliding up and down your sides, rough palms groping your asscheeks, fingers dipping in between, pushing but never in. “You’d let me do anything and everything, huh?” 

“Maybe,” you answer, voice breathy, thin, your back arching when he’s tugging on your nipples. He leans forward, grins, spits on your tits and smears it all over you, your chest glistening with it. Your hips buck up again, trying to get closer to him, but he’s holding you down and away and you almost whine, desperate for some kind of friction. 

“Admit it, baby, you’d take a fucking bath in my spit if you could.” 

You squint up at him, legs trying to close, to rub together and create at least a little pressure where you need it most. 

“As if you’d survive the sight,” you answer, a little late, but that’s better than giving him the satisfaction of not answering at all. Toji hums, one of his hands slipping into his boxers, wrapping around himself, the stroking motion of his hand making you moan, want filling up your whole being, need seeping out of your every pore. 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” he grins, another stroke, up and down, up and down. “But at least I’d die as one happy motherfucker.” 

You laugh at that, the sound of it transforming into a breathless sigh when he catches your lips in a kiss again. You hum into it, legs circling his waist, his hips again, your toes slipping into the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down, making him chuckle against your lips. 

“Alright, alright, message received,” he cackles and you hit him on the shoulder, glad that he’s finally slipping off his boxers the rest of the way. The first sounds of ‘Mascara’ fill your ears, the guitar riffs as familiar as breathing. Toji’s back over you, filling out the space between your legs, his chest pushed against your own, warm and soft, his dick hot and hard against your pussy. 

“I feel soon,” Toji sings along with Chino Moreno, voice deep, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. “I will sink – into you.” He’s pushing, well, into you along with the lyrics, and you moan around the words, what do you think? ‘cause there’s still blood in your hair, and I’ve got the bruise of the year. 

Toji’s filling you up in all the right ways, the stretch intense, so fucking good, your toes curling where your feet rest on the small of his back. He’s still singing, pausing when he’s balls deep inside you, and fuck, but you love him. Some might say that the two of you are insane for picking that song to listen to while fucking, but you don’t care. You love this song, the band, ever since you heard it for the first time and – 

This record, these seventy-four minutes of music history, are actually the first thing you and Toji ever really talked about. It was your first real conversation that didn’t consist of hi and how are you’s and the weather’s shit.  You shared your own stories about the songs, what they mean to you, and it was the moment you fell a little bit in love with him. 

You have no idea if he remembers it and you don’t want to ask, especially not now. Not when he’s kissing you again in a way that takes your breath away, all teeth and too much tongue, his hips rolling, dick grinding into you, hitting deep, and you moan, you – 

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!”

Toji stops mid-thrust, eyes squeezed shut tightly. He’s muttering under his breath, and you can’t help but join his prayers that someone else is already home and will help Satoru fucking Gojo with whatever. 

Your pussy clenches around Toji’s dick and he groans, starts thrusting again, licking one long stripe from your chin, up over your cheek, and – 

“HELP!” It’s Satoru again, another cry for help ringing through the house and you let your arms fall down from Toji’s shoulders and onto the mattress. 

“I swear to fuckin’ god,” Toji grumbles, slipping out of you and looking at your pussy with regret shining in the green of his eyes. He starts searching for his boxers, stomping heavily over wooden floorboards. “I’ll fuckin’ kill that annoying twink myself if nothing serious actually happened.” 

“Not when I get to him first,” you mutter, annoyed as hell and with your pussy still dripping, slick sticking between your thighs. You snag your panties from the floor, slip into Choso’s hoodie which, thankfully, hides your ass from everyone who doesn’t want to tap it. You join Toji at the door, the man cupping your cheeks, pressing a lingering kiss on your lips, one that almost escalated if not for Satoru’s on-going cry’s for help. 

The hallway’s still dark, not a single light in sight. It seems as if Sukuna and Choso still aren’t home and at least the both of them aren’t responsible for you not gettin’ the fabulous dicking down you deserve. Satoru’s yelling again, and you can hear the shower running in the bathroom. Toji’s turning his head at the same time as you, an expression of sheer horror slowly creeping onto his face. 

“Please, for the love of god, please no,” he whines and you can’t emphasize enough how much you feel that. 

“HELP!”

“Fuuuuck,” Toji groans, dragging the word out as if that’d change anything. You both pause in front of the door, Toji’s fingers trembling on the door handle. “I don’t want to see them naked,” he half-sobs and you poke into his ribs hard. 

“We all had to suffer through the sight of Suguru’s pale, flat ass, it’s only fair,” you shrug, poking him again for good measure. “And apparently, I have to see their dicks a second time, don’t be such a baby.” 

Toji snickers at the misery sitting in your words, batting your finger away when you try poking him again. He takes a deep breath and finally opens the door. The first thing you see is, well nothing, really. The bathroom resembles a fucking steam room, and you actually have to wait a few seconds for the steam to evaporate to not accidentally step on someone and their sensitive bits. 

Toji and you step further into the room and that’s when you spot it: one of the shower stalls’ sliding door’s lying on the floor, plastic broken into a thousand pieces, a little blood painted on sharp edges. Suguru’s sprawled out in the small shower cabin, head against the tiles and water still cascading all over him. Satoru’s the one sitting between plastic, a pained grimace on his face, hand holding on to his left shoulder. 

“Thank fucking god,” Satoru breathes, voice raspy and anxiety sitting heavy in the syllables. “Someone has to take a look at Suguru, he isn’t speaking.” Satoru’s absolutely distressed and Toji’s crossing the room in a few long strides, turning off the water and kneeling down to inspect your roommate. 

“Oh man,” Toji mutters, fingers taking Suguru’s chin, turning his head this way and that. “Gimme a towel, sweetheart.” You immediately do as told, taking a second towel to throw it over Satoru’s dick. You have seen enough of his balls to last you a lifetime. Both you and Satoru watch Toji pressing the towel against the back of Suguru’s head, watch him slapping against his cheeks a few times, the first sign of life spilling over his lips, a deep groan and a heartfelt ‘ow’. 

You blow some air out of your nose, tension melting out of your shoulders now that you know you don’t have to call an ambulance and hope for the best. 

“What the fuck happened?” You ask Satoru who’s looking up at you, cheeks tinged pink and the slightest hint of embarrassment sitting in the blue of his eyes. 

“We had sex,” he says, gesturing to the shower stall. 

“I guessed as much,” you dead-pan, Satoru sticking out his tongue. 

“Well, we kind of slipped and I couldn’t find my balance and –” he sighs, gesturing to the shards of plastic littering the bathroom floor. “I fell through the door and Suguru hit his head on the tiles. I couldn’t help him, I think I actually dislocated my shoulder.” 

You snort because it does sound kind of funny. And maybe you think they deserve it the teenie-tiniest bit for putting y’all through hell the last few weeks. There’s a grunt in the shower stall, Toji helping Suguru stand who’s pale as hell, swaying on his feet. 

“Well, this guy’s got a nice cut at the back of his head,” Toji tells you. “Nothing serious, doesn’t even need to be stitched up. But I guess he’s got a nice little concussion.” 

“Well, what a good thing it is that we have to get me to a hospital anyway,” Satoru sighs, wiggling his fingers so you’ll help him off the floor. The towel slips from his lap and you get another eyeful of his dick limply hanging between his thighs. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut while Toji laughs about your misery. Fucker. 

“So who’s driving?” 

present

The kitchen’s once again quiet only the crunching sound of Hajime annihilating a second bag of chips breaking the silence. Toji’s grinning like a madman around the cigarette clinging to his lips, Hiromi looks as if he’s contemplating all his life choices again. Across the table, Suguru’s blushing madly, fingers travelling over the back of his head and most definitely brushing over the cut there. 

You do your best in trying to get rid of the memory of Satoru’s and Suguru’s naked asscheeks, but it’s kind of a lost cause. The image is burned into your retinas at this point and you stopped asking yourself if you’ll ever be able to sleep without nightmares again anytime soon. 

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Hiromi finally sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can I ask something though?” He’s looking at Suguru and Satoru, both of them gesturing to get on with it. “Did you guys, maybe, I don’t know – thought about moving out?”

“What are we supposed to do with such a big house?” Satoru furrows his brows, looking a little lost. Silence, one second, two seconds, a third. Toji snorts loudly, taking a sip of his vodka, bottle almost empty. Sukuna thumps his forehead against your shoulder, a huff that’s half laugh, half sob muffled by the cotton of your hoodie. Choso gets up and takes himself a beer out of the fridge. Hajime stares at Satoru as if he just grew a second head. 

“Is he –” Hajime looks at you, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, eyes flicking over to Satoru, back to you again. “Is he for real?” 

“Sadly, he is,” you sigh, absolutely exhausted by now. Sometimes you wonder how Satoru succeeded in getting a master’s degree in fucking physics with that pea-sized brain of his. Even Suguru throws him a disbelieving look, shaking his head at his own boyfriend and snagging the bottle of vodka right out of Toji’s hands. 

“Satoru,” Hiromi starts, voice slow as if he’s talking to a toddler. “I meant that you and Suguru move out of here and into your apartment.” 

“Oh,” Satoru answers, a little dumbfounded, mouth half-opened and his head tilted to the side. “Don’t you think moving in together is, well, maybe a little early? Isn’t that a bit too fast?” 

Next to you, Toji laughs loudly, slapping his thighs as if that’s the funniest thing he heard all evening. 

“Satoru, the two of you were pining for decades, I think moving ‘too fast’ doesn't exist in that yaoi-omageverse-courtship the two of you have going on.” 

Sukuna snorts, Satoru doesn’t look convinced in the slightest and Suguru rests his forehead on the wooden tabletop. Hajime’s hopping off the counter, positioning himself behind Hiromi’s chair and starting to knead the tense muscles in his neck. Hiromi slumps forward as soon as Hajime’s fingertips brush over his skin and you want to coo at them. Gods, but they are sweet.

“Anyway, I think we can visit this particular topic again after we worked through the rest of last week,” Hiromi says. “Because I guess there’s more?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Satoru yells, pointing at Toji accusingly who only throws him a wink. Next to you, Choso pours the rest of his beer down his throat. 

Incident report 4

Date: 25-10, 18:45

Person(s) involved: Toji

Location: Living Room

Property Damage(s): Defacement of couch and Utahime’s innocence

Another rainy day and you unlock the front door, still half-turned around and talking to Utahime who joined you in coming home after work. It’s ‘trash’-night, the two of you meeting up a few times a month to melt into a mattress with a healthy amount of junk food while watching the newest episodes of whatever reality show you can get your hands on. 

You always look forward to it, to spending a night with one of your best friends’, especially now that you’re surrounded by too much testosterone as soon as you set foot into your own home. It isn’t as if you wouldn’t love sex and musky scents and some real good dick as much as every half-insane woman, but fuck, your pussy hurts and your body looks as if you just came out of a fucking warzone. Your skin is painted in purples’, reds’ and pinks from head to toe, all three of your boyfriends’ kind of addicted to giving you hickeys. It’s a real pain in the ass, but your brain doesn’t have the power to tell them that when they’re naked and on top of you. 

Utahime and you enter the living room, the front door falling close behind you with a dull thud. The first thing the two of you see is messy black hair, broad naked shoulders and – 

Utahime shrieks as if something just bit into her ass, her long black hair hitting you straight in the face when she turns around in a blur of flurry motions. On the couch, Toji’s smiling, green eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement and he’s enjoying your friends’ reaction way too much. 

You stare at him, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to explain himself. Of course he says nothing, the grin on his face widening. A tired sigh leaves your mouth while you take off your jacket, bag falling onto the floor carelessly. 

“Why are you naked?” 

“Why not?” Toji answers promptly, scar stretched thin, wiggling his eyebrows like a jackass. 

“Because some of us, don’t want to see a fucking dick,” Utahime yells in outrage, hands clenched into fists at her sides. You’re sure she’d hit him if there wouldn’t be the risk of seeing his dick again. 

“That’s too bad,” Toji sighs, stretching out his long, muscled legs and putting his feet on the couch table without a care in the world. He’s even putting an arm over the headrest, his whole body on display, all tanned skin and bulging muscles. You hate your body for making your pussy twitch between your legs, panties getting damp the slightest bit. 

“Okay,” you mutter, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering on his pecs, his abs, down and down to his – no, focus. “Let me rephrase it then: why are you sitting naked on the couch?” 

Toji’s toes wiggle in what you assume is sheer excitement and you know in an instant that you’ll get the dumbest answer known to mankind. 

“Sweetheart, baby, why so serious, huh? I thought you have a thing for –” he gestures all over himself, strokes his dick once like the jerk he is, “this godlike body.” 

“We have to talk about your taste in man,” Utahime mutters to you, peeling herself out of her own jacket while she’s still resolutely staring at the wall. 

“Toji, can you just answer the fucking question?” 

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue. “Fine, be that way,” he tells you and he’s honest to god pouting. “I just thought it’s a thing we’re doing in this household now, alright? Being naked everywhere, dicks enjoying their freedom, balls swinging back and forth between our legs,” he shrugs, grinding his naked ass deeper into the couch cushions. 

Yeah, you were right. Dumbest answer known to mankind. Utahime’s rapidly tapping on her phone, most definitely writing Uraume and Shoko, telling them that your home actually became some sort of asylum for mentally unstable idiots. 

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” you shake your head, planning on guiding Utahime through the living room and up the stairs and leaving Toji to his own devices. Before you can do so, the front door opens again, hitting Utahime in the face who stumbles back upon impact and accidentally turns her head, getting another eyeful of Toji’s dick resting against his thighs. 

She shrieks again. 

“Oi, what the fuck?” Sukuna’s deep voice rings through the room, heavy footsteps crossing the threshold. He comes up next to you, Choso in tow, both men looking at Toji with raised eyebrows, Sukuna’s eyes sparkling with amusement while Choso looks absolutely done with the world. You can relate. 

“Why are you naked in front of Utahime?” Sukuna asks, pressing a kiss against your cheek in greeting. 

“I’m not seeing his dick of my own free will, I can assure you that much,” Utahime groans, cheeks pink and one of her hands covering her eyes. 

“Toji thought being naked everywhere is a thing we’re doing now,” you explain tiredly. Choso shakes his head, lips twitching in amusement while he takes your and Utahime’s jackets, hanging them on the coat rack next to the door. 

“Listen, if I have to see dumb and dumber’s dick on the daily, why shouldn’t they be condemned to seeing mine in return?” 

To make matters even worse, Sukuna actually nods along to Toji’s words, as if he’s right and doesn’t sound absolutely mental. Before anyone can say anything else, Sukuna’s opening his pants, pushing them and his boxers down his thick thighs, dick now exposed to fresh air and way too many eyes. 

Utahime, who thought it’d be safe to look in your direction, gets another eyeful, shock written all over her face, gaze focused on Sukuna’s dick and her mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. Choso’s staring too, but instead of looking shocked he’s licking over his lips slowly, tilting his head to the side. Once again, you can relate. Your pussy beats in time with your heart, slick dripping into your panties, thighs rubbing together. 

Sukuna, absolutely unbothered by all of you staring at his dick, undresses further, joins Toji on the couch and sits down in the same way he is. They look like the underpaid cast of an indie-porno. 

“You had that thing in you? How are you still alive, girl?” Utahime breathes out, staring at you in amazement and horror. You only shrug, the phantom feeling of Sukuna’s dick stretching you out deliciously, making you a little dumb and at a loss for words. 

“Choso, you joinin’ us?” Toji asks from his place on the couch, lips twitching. Choso, whose cheekbones are a nice dust-peach pink, shakes his head immediately. 

“Absolutely not,” he mutters. “I refuse to be a part of the idiot brigade.” 

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” you tell him, earning yourself a wink and a smile. Seriously, you’re really thankful that at least one of your boyfriends’ seems to have some brain capacity left. 

“Can I join you two?” Choso asks, gesturing to the couch with a tired look in his eyes. “I want to be as far away as possible from – “ his eyes roam over Sukuna’s body and he swallows heavily, shakes his head as if he wants to get rid of his own thoughts. “From all of this.” 

“Only when you promise me to keep your pants on,” Utahime answers promptly and Choso chuckles. 

“I will,” he winks at her. “Pinky promise.” 

Utahime nods, sends a lifted middle finger Toji’s and Sukuna’s way before she’s shielding her eyes with a hand and makes her way over to the stairs. Choso follows along, pushing a kiss into Sukuna’s messy hair before he’s ruffling Toji’s. 

You pause behind the couch, eyes focusing on Sukuna first, roaming over miles of smooth tattooed skin, over the glinting piercings on his dick. You look at Toji next, his dick twitching upon getting your attention and you let out another sigh. 

“You’re both absolute dumbasses,” you tell them, placing a kiss on both their foreheads and going upstairs. 

“Think about what that says about you, sweetheart,” Toji yells after you, “You’re the one who fucks both of us!” 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m already regretting it.” 

Sukuna snorts, while Toji answers promptly – “Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.” 

You hate them. 

Thirty minutes later, you’re all cuddled up under your blanket, Choso snoring against your neck, sweatpants still on while his arms are tightly wrapped around you. Utahime’s yelling at love is blind’s contestants on your other side, and it’s then that you hear the first shrieking sounds coming from downstairs. 

Seems like this will be a long night. 

present

Hajime’s laughing silently, his whole body shaking while his face’s hidden in Hiromi’s hair. Hiromi himself throws a judging look Toji’s and Sukuna’s way before he’s gulping down the remnants of his beer in one go. 

“You’re idiots,” he sighs, propping his chin up on his hand. 

“Wrong,” Toji retorts. “I’m a genius.” He’s looking proud of himself, sticking out his chest and high-fiving Sukuna. Why the fuck are you in love with these absolutely ridiculous men? Something must be seriously wrong with your head. 

“Satoru didn’t stop screaming and flushing his eyes out for hours,” Toji continues on. “They’ll have nightmares for years to come, thanks to what this hottie next to me is packin’. I call that a success.”

Hiromi’s cheeks are dusted pink when his eyes flash over to Sukuna for the slightest second, his younger boyfriend leaning down over his head and trying to get a good look at Sukuna’s lap with curiosity shining in his eyes. 

Sukuna smirks. 

Choso hits him over the head. 

You’re still contemplating moving cities. Maybe you’ll take Choso with you. 

“Well,” Hiromi clears his throat, “I don’t think we have to discuss this particular event further. You saw Satoru’s balls and Suguru’s ass, they saw your dicks a day later, I’d call that being even.” 

Everyone sitting around the table nods along to his words, except for Satoru of course, who’s still muttering about monsters but one look from his boyfriend shuts him up quickly. Thank the heavens’ for small mercies. 

“Have we finally reached the end of this running battle?” Hiromi looks around the table, gaze lingering on all of you. The atmosphere in the kitchen gets frosty, Sukuna’s fingers digging into the skin of your waist, his whole body tense, legs all but vibrating. 

“We have,” he says. “One last story and then you can tell these dickheads’ that they’ve gone too far.”

“We didn’t –” Hiromi lifts a hand, Satoru stopping mid-sentence and closing his mouth again with a huff. The lawyer doesn’t bat an eyelash at Satoru’s childish display, is focusing on Choso instead who has a hand resting at the back of Sukuna’s neck, fingers playing with the short hairs’ there. 

“You up for telling me what happened? I think you’re the most likely to not, well, twist the facts.”  Choso hums, nods and when no one’s complaining, everyone settling down again, his deep voice once again fills up the kitchen. 

Incident report 5

Date: 27-10, 15:07

Person(s) involved: Suguru, Satoru, Choso, Sukuna, You, Kento Nanami

Location: Malevolent Shrine (Sukuna’s tattoo shop)

Property Damage(s): the door to the backroom, Suguru’s and Satoru’s non-existent dignity

Black Rebel Motorcycle Clubs’ Teenage Disease echoes through the small tattoo shop, its guitar riffs a nice background sound to the humming of tattoo-guns, and the rain that’s pattering against the windows all afternoon already. You’re lying on one of the tattoo chairs’, snuggled up in Sukuna’s oversized hoodie and some shorts, two of your fingers playing with Choso’s hair while he’s leaning over you, a cute concentrated frown on his face, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. 

A client of Choso’s cancelled his appointment at the last minute, and he asked you all sweetly if you’re up for getting the first session of the tattoo he gifted you done. Of course you said yes, excited at the prospect of having a sketch of his painted on your skin forever, and Uraume had no problem switching out your shifts. 

At the other end of the room, Sukuna’s leaning over one of his regulars, Nanami Kento. He’s a bored looking office worker, always clad in a suit and tie, and from the looks of him you’d never guess that his whole body is painted in vibrant colors. You have no idea how the two actually met, you just know that they've been acquaintances for years now, Kento taking almost every sketch Sukuna offers him. He’s like Sukuna’s personal canvas, joining him at conventions to display Sukuna’s work and you could look at his skin for hours, eyes detecting a new tiny colorful detail every other second. 

Suguru just finished with a customer a few minutes ago, telling you after that he’s taking his late lunch break. Satoru had come into the shop a few minutes earlier, but no one questioned it much, all of you expecting them to just share a meal and stories about their day. 

Choso’s just dipping his needles into black ink when it happens – a guttural moan rings out of the backroom and into the shop, the sound so loud that it even drowns out the music coming from the speakers. 

With the sound of another moan, everything inside the shop quiets down, freezes. The tattoo-guns stop humming, Choso’s whole body tense where he’s still leaning over you, Sukuna’s face stoic, his fiery red eyes focused on the hallway that leads to the backroom. 

Surely, Satoru and Suguru wouldn’t – 

Another groan, a whimper, something thudding against the wall. There’s just no way they’re doing it here. 

“What the actual fuck?” Choso mutters, his own gaze focused at the back of the shop, disbelief clinging to his voice, to every corner and inch of his face. Another whimper, a whine, the sounds of skin slapping against skin. On the other tattoo chair, Kento lifts himself up, brows furrowed and lips curling. 

“Is that –” 

Sukuna doesn’t let him finish. He’s already up and out of his chair before anyone else can even blink, the black gloves he’s wearing snapping and tearing when he pulls them off. 

“I dare you to stop me,” he glares at both you and Choso, anger radiating off his body in waves. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Choso answers immediately and you’ve never heard him this furious. Sukuna nods at him, looks over to you. You only shake your head at him, hands lifted in surrender. This is – them fucking here, is crossing so many boundaries you don’t even know what to say. 

With heavy footsteps, Sukuna makes his way into the hallway, wood splintering when he kicks in the door. The door’s falling out of its hinges and you can hear Satoru letting out a surprised squeak, Suguru yelling at Sukuna to leave them alone and – 

And Sukuna’s having none of it. He growls at them, his voice for once deadly calm. Kento, Choso and you flinch at the tone of his voice, all of you being around Sukuna long enough to know that his screaming and yelling, his tantrums, aren’t him being serious – this is him being serious. A deep timbre in every syllable, face void of any emotion, any expression except for his eyes. The red in them resembles a blazing fire, flames lick at everyone and everything, burning down the world around him and leaving nothing but ashes behind. 

“Get out,” he tells Satoru and Suguru calmly, one arm raised, finger pointing to the front of the shop. “Now.” 

You flinch again when Satoru and Suguru actually try talking back and next to you Choso sighs. Seriously, have they lost every last brain cell during their fucking sessions?

“I said get out.” 

“You get out of here, we were in the middle of so –” Satoru stops with another yell and you can’t see exactly what Sukuna’s done, but you only have to wait a few seconds for the answer. Sukuna’s hauling them both along, Suguru by the hair, Satoru in a headlock, both with their pants still dropped around the ankles, dicks hanging free for the world to see. 

“You’re fired,” Sukuna tells Suguru calmly, eyes still blazing. 

“You can’t fire me, I’m co-owner,” Suguru starts, disbelief painted all over his face while his head’s still bent at an awkward angle, his fingers trying to get Sukuna’s out of his hair.

“Do I look like I give a single flying fuck about that? I’ll buy you out. I’ll not let you ruin my business with your fuckin’ dumbshit of a boytoy. You’re lucky it’s only them –” he gestures to you and Kento, “being here, otherwise I’d have killed you both on the spot.” 

Choso stands up during Sukuna’s words, opens the front door of the shop without saying anything. Sukuna throws Satoru and Suguru out without batting a single eyelash, both of them landing in the middle of the sidewalk, still half naked and drenched in seconds, both gaping like absolute idiots. 

“I don’t want to see you here again.” 

And with that, Sukuna turns back around, Choso letting the door fall close behind him, turning the open sign to closed with a deep sigh spilling over his lips. Sukuna looks at Kento, rolls his shoulders, cracking his knuckles. 

“I need a minute,” he tells him, stalking back into the hallway and to the backdoor. 

“Take all the time you need,” Kento says easily. He sat up during the commotion, legs dangling in the air. “Is it alright if I make myself some coffee?” He asks Choso, who only makes a gesture saying go ahead. Kento nods, vanishes into the backroom while stepping carefully around splintered wood. 

You take a good look at Choso, meeting his gaze and detecting the deep seated exhaustion in them. There’s anger too, disappointment and irritation swirling in the honey-brown of his eyes. 

“I can’t –” Choso shakes his head, sighs and sits back down on his rolling chair. “Can you go look for Sukuna? Make sure he’s alright?” 

“Of course,” you answer, hopping off the table and pressing a short kiss against his forehead. You find Sukuna just outside the backdoor, cigarette between his fingers where he stands under the small canopy that serves as a rain shelter right next to the door you’re coming out of. 

You join him in leaning against the brick wall, leaving some space between you. You light up your own cigarette, smoke curling up in front of you, smoky tendrils getting lost in the rain. With Sukuna being this angry, it’s always best to give him some time, to wait for him to start speaking and just be a silent steady presence at his side he can turn to when he’s ready. 

You both finish another two cigarettes before the tension in his body slowly loosens, his shoulder bumping against yours while a deep sigh spills over his lips. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing one – two – three times. 

“Do you think I overreacted?” He asks into the quiet between you, rain still pattering against the pavement, goosebumps littering the naked skin of your legs. 

“Honestly?” You look up at him and he meets your gaze, the fire that roared in the red of them only minutes ago a little lighter now. “I don’t think you overreacted. This isn’t our home, it’s work. I mean – what if it weren’t me and Kento sitting on those tables? If it had been strangers? Fuck, it’d spread like wildfire all over the city and no one wants to go into a tattoo shop where unsanitary things happen.”

Sukuna hums, pulls you in front of him and into his arms, your nose pressed against the collar of his shirt, his muscled heavy arms securely wrapped around you. 

“He’s one of my oldest friends, I didn’t think he’d –” Sukuna tries to sound non-chalant, but you hear him swallowing heavily, a hint of sadness, of hurt, clinging to his words. “I just didn’t think they’d go this far, ya know?” 

“I know what you mean,” you sigh, nose brushing against his throat. “Satoru? Yeah, maybe. Suguru though? Definitely not, I mean this shop’s his dream, too.” 

“That’s what I thought, too.” You can only wrap your own arms around him when Sukuna buries his nose in your hair, fingers clenching and unclenching at the small of your back. Around you, rain pours steadily out of the sky, and you stay like this, wrapped up and holding each other, for a long time. 

present

Disbelief is carved into every inch of skin on Hiromi’s face. Hajime leans over his head again, fingers digging into Hiromi’s shoulders, his eyes wide open. 

“My dudes,” Hajime says, judgement heavy in his voice. “What the actual fuck?” 

Satoru honest to god pouts again, arms crossed in front of his chest. Next to him, Suguru’s keeping his silence, his head bowed and gaze firmly focused on the wooden tabletop. 

“He threw us out on the street,” Satoru complains, and you only wait for him to start stomping on the floor like a three year old during a tantrum who isn’t getting what it wants. “With our pants down. Strangers know my dick now!” 

“Yeah, and you didn’t deserve any less,” Hajime mutters, shaking his head. He makes his way back to the counter, hops up on it and takes a big gulp of his beer. Satoru wants to argue again, but Hiromi interrupts him before he can even utter a single word. 

“So this is the focus of your dispute?” When everyone nods at him, Hiromi claps into his hands. “Well, if that’s the case I don’t even have to think it through. The two of you,” he points at Satoru and Suguru, “are definitely in the wrong. Seriously, at your workplace? In a tattoo shop that has to be one of the most hygienic places in the whole city?” 

“It was in the backroom,” Satoru mutters meekly, shoulders slumped. He looks a little smaller than he did at the start of this absolute clusterfuck of an evening, and maybe, hopefully, Hiromi’s able to finally make him understand how wrong his little show in the shop was. 

“Doesn’t really matter,” Hiromi waves him off, leaning back in his chair. “What if some poor sod had come in to get an appointment and the first thing they hear is your pathetic whimpering? You really think they’d come back? And aside from that, how old are you two? Sixteen? You’re adults, start acting like ones and fuck literally anywhere else where you don’t ruin the life’s of your closest friends.” 

“We did, but apparently that has been the wrong thing to do, too!” 

Hiromi rolls his eyes at Satoru, slapping a hand on the wooden tabletop and shocking him into silence. 

“Please, these guys,” he points to your side of the table, “Have a foursome-something going on, meaning double the horniness. Just imagine how often you’d see them naked if they behaved like you. For goodness sake, Choso was basically hanging over his girlfriends’ lap, a few inches away from her pussy and he tattooed her. Why are you two so fucking hellbent on being absolute animals? At least live out your weird kinks in your own apartment where you don’t traumatise everyone else. If you have an exhibitionism kink go into a fuckin’ sex club!  It really isn't that difficult to do.” 

Hiromi shakes his head again, his chair screeching over the tiles when he shoves it back and stands up. He sticks out a hand for Hajime to take, the younger man intertwining their fingers with a small smile. 

“I think I made my position quite clear,” Hiromi continues. “If you’d excuse us now, I actually want to enjoy the rest of the evening with my own partner and fuck him at home like a normal human being.” 

Hajime’s cheekbones are dusted pink, and he wiggles his fingers in a silent goodbye, a skip in his every step when they leave the kitchen. The front door falls close behind them with a thud, the kitchen still silent, no one really knowing what to say. 

At the kitchen wall, the clock continues ticking. 

@so4evr @juscamilswrlddxx @nyraeafterdark @charlisflyingangell @taintedsturns

[zenbabyy]

plug!choso and his messy situationship part one

pairing // choso x fem!reader

warnings // 18+ only!, angst no comfort, drinking, marijuana use, choso is an asshole

word count: 2.5k

part two |

You and Choso had known each other for years—long before either of you grew into yourselves.

Back then, your smile was hidden behind a mouthful of metal brackets and bright pink rubber bands, while Choso spent every morning picking apart the angry red acne scattered across his face in the bathroom mirror.

Middle school was cruel to everyone, but somehow the two of you survived it together.

You still remembered the first time you sat beside him at lunch.

He had been hunched over a textbook, avoiding eye contact with everyone around him. Most people thought he looked intimidating. In reality, he was just extremely awkward.

Over a decade later, your braces were long gone, leaving behind straight teeth and an easy smile. The sharp edges of adolescence had softened into something warmer, your body filling out all the places that had once felt awkward.

Choso, on the other hand, now had clear skin covered in dark tattoos. He had shot up nearly ten inches, his towering frame built with broad shoulders, defined muscle, and the kind of strength that made you swoon whenever he stood too close to you.

One thing had remained the same, though—you and Choso were still attached at the hip, inseparable in a way that had only deepened with time.

The only difference now was the quiet, undeniable obsession lingering beneath every glance, every touch, and every excuse to be near each other, neither of you willing—or perhaps wanting—to acknowledge just how intense it had become.

Instead, you just settled on being friends with benefits. That way, you both could get what you wanted without having to deal with the complexity of a real relationship.

You were currently sprawled across Choso's bed in your underwear, absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok as he sat at his desk. His large hands worked with practiced ease, carefully weighing out piles of weed before sealing them into small plastic baggies and tossing them into a small black duffel bag at his feet. 

It was comfortable. Domestic.

He let out a long sigh as he finished, zipping the duffel shut before setting it on the desk. Crossing the room, he climbed onto the bed, gently lifted your ankles out of the way so he could settle against the wall. 

Once he was comfortable, he placed your legs back across his lap without a second thought, one large hand resting absentmindedly on your shin as the two of you settled into the familiar silence.

He glanced over at you as you scrolled through your phone, the blue light illuminating your face.

“We have 30 minutes before we gotta leave.” He pulled a blunt from a small container in his pocket. “Make sure you’re ready to go by then.” 

He knew how lazy and clingy you got when you were high. It was adorable any other time, but Gojo wanted him at his place early. Something about ‘looking over the merchandise early.’

You hum and lock your phone, letting it drop onto your chest. You watched Choso as he lit the blunt and brought it to his lips, the soft glare from the cherry shining across the tattoo that lay across the bridge of his nose.

He took a deep hit before holding it out to you. The room filled with smoke as you took it, taking your own slow drag before you coughed.

He smirked at you. “How are you still a lightweight after all this time?” He snickered as you flipped him off.

“I’m not,” you choke out, “your shit is just always strong.” 

Your head spins as you hand it back to him, the high already settling in behind your eyes after just one hit.

“Well, I gotta keep my customers happy, baby.” He said, taking another drag before exhaling slowly.

“Your customers are spoiled.” You lean your head against the pillows.

A smirk tugged at Choso's lips. “You’re the one getting smoked out for free every day."

“That’s because I let you fuck me.” 

He snorts at your bluntness. “Is that the arrangement we have?” He holds the blunt out to you again.

“Mhm.” You stick your lips out, and he immediately brings the tip to your mouth to let you inhale.

“Who’s spoiled again?” He smirks as he watches you blow half-assed O’s towards the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes later, you both finish the blunt and sit, listening to the soft music playing from his PC. You watch him with lidded eyes as he types on his phone. Your heart swells as you look over his relaxed features.

At some point in your… arrangement, you'd developed real feelings for him. You realized it after a nasty cold left you bedridden for days, and Choso spent an entire weekend at your place taking care of you—feeding you soup, bringing you medicine, and staying by your side until you got better.

No man had ever shown such delicate care towards you. 

After that, you were a goner.

That was eight months ago, and since then, you’ve been noticing every little thing; every soft gesture, the lingering eye contact. You were convinced he felt the same, and it drove you crazy that he wouldn’t just admit it.

You had a theory as to why.

Not too long before the two of you got together, Choso had gone through a devastating breakup. His girlfriend had cheated on him with one of his friends, then somehow found a way to blame him for it, claiming he wasn't emotionally available enough.

You never cursed someone as much as you did her. You begged him to let you go to her house to drag her across the sidewalk, but he just told you she wasn’t worth it.

That night, you held him as he cried in your arms, his heart shattered into a million pieces that you glued back together with your own hands.

He was more reserved after that. Never showing too much emotion, not even to you.

He stood up, letting your feet fall onto the bed before he pulled his clothes off, changing into fresh ones.

“Don’t be an ass tonight,” he slipped his shoes on, “try to actually socialize, yeah?”

You roll your eyes and stretch your legs out on the bed. 

“I’m perfectly capable of speaking to others, thank you.”

“Yeah, sure.” He turns to face you, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. “Hurry up and get ready.”

You groan and force yourself to stand, your limbs feeling heavy as you tug your shorts up your legs. You pull on a black sleeveless top and reach up to your hair, trying to tame it so that it at least looks presentable.

“I’m ready.”

He stares at you for a moment before he gives you a small smile, stepping forward to cup your face, bringing your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“Pretty.” He murmurs against your lips.

Your face heats as he pulls away. 

“Okay, let’s go.” He opens the bedroom door for you, smacking your ass as you walk past.

────────

The drive to Gojo's house was quick. 

You guys pulled up to the modern mansion and parked on the side of his huge garage. 

When you finally reached the door, Gojo swung it open before you could even knock. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite plug. And he brought his pretty girlfriend! Excellent.” Gojo says with a big cocky smile on his face.

“Fucking annoying ass.” Choso shook his head and walked in, not bothering to correct him. 

You smiled at Gojo as you followed behind Choso. “Hey.”

“Hey, queen, you’re looking absolutely sexy tonight.” Gojo hugs you.

“That’s all you, babe.” You wink at him.

You and Gojo had a strange friendship, if that's really what you could call it. He was the only one on this planet who was aware of how deep your feelings for Choso really ran. 

You didn’t mean for him to find out. He was just naturally observant. He saw too much. Knew too much about everyone.

Before long, you were ranting to him about how stupidly oblivious Choso was every time you pulled up to one of his parties. He kept telling you to confess, but you were too chicken, choosing the comfort and predictability of your current situation.

An hour later, the party was in full swing. Music rattled the walls of Satoru's house while clusters of people crowded every available space, drinks in hand and voices raised over the bass. Choso pushed through the growing crowd, navigating the sea of strangers with practiced ease. 

Behind him, he could hear you grumbling under your breath about there already being too many people, but he didn't slow down, simply reaching back to grab your wrist and guide you through the groups spilling out across Satoru's living room.

“Choso!” Both of you looked up to see Gojo waving him over from a small group nearby.

“Okay, pretty, I gotta go take care of something,” Choso said, turning to you. “Go mingle.” You frowned immediately.

“I don't wanna mingle.”

“Tough,” he laughed, already walking away. “Don't cause any problems while I'm gone.”

You sigh as you watch him walk away.

You turn and push your way through the crowd to the kitchen, hoping to find an unopened bottle of the expensive top-shelf liquor that was spread out all over the counters.

When you finally managed to find a small bottle of tequila, you made your way back to where Choso had left you. Your eyes immediately landed on him, and a frown pulled at your lips when you spotted some random girl practically hanging off his torso. 

His arm was draped around her neck, casually squishing her face into his chest while she laughed at something he'd said. You frowned and contemplated walking over, but decided not to.

He was always way too fucking friendly. 

But shit, what were you supposed to do? You weren’t his girlfriend after all…

You decided you'd had enough of what you were seeing, so, with your bottle in hand, you slipped away to the backyard, kicking off your sandals as you approached the massive infinity pool.

Settling at the edge, you let your bare feet dip into the warm water, staring out across the shimmering surface.

If Choso needed you, he could come find you.

The backyard was slightly more tolerable—a much smaller crowd, dimmer lights, the bass muffled enough that you could actually think. You twisted the small bottle of Clase Azul open and took a long swig.

You welcome the deep burn in your throat and chest.

You sit just like that for you don't even know how long, the smooth liquor effectively numbing your senses and, most importantly, the dull pain that settled in your chest.

Footsteps crunched on the stone path behind you, gradually getting closer and closer.

“There you are.”

Choso.

His voice was smooth but carried a hint of annoyance—a sound you were intimately familiar with. He sat down next to you, eyes flicking between the bottle in your hand and your face.

“You’re drinking alone?” 

You lick your lips and nod.

He watches your tongue dart out, his eyes lingering on your lips before they land back on the way you were lazily staring out into the water, soft swishing noises floating around you two as you slowly kick your feet.

“How much have you had?” 

You reach your hand up to gauge the emptiness of the bottle with your fingers.

“Mmm, about this much.” You hold out the space between your fingers in front of his face.

He stared at the gap—which was roughly half the fucking bottle—and felt his stomach tighten.

“You drank half the bottle in 30 minutes?” He looks at you, annoyed. 

“Jesus Christ.” He snatches the bottle from your hands and places it somewhere to the side of him and outside your reach.

“Relax, you know I can handle my liquor, unlike you.” You let your head fall to the side, resting it against your hand with your elbow propped on your knee, an unreadable look on your face.

“You’re always an ass when you’re drunk.” He scoffs and looks out onto the water himself.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, just staring into the pool. 

Beneath the gently rippling water, a mosaic of sea turtles stretched across the bottom, their painted forms seeming to glide through the blue water as the light danced across the tiles.

You look over at him again, something weighing heavily in your chest.

“Choso?”

“What?” The word came out slightly drawn out, his tone flat as he glanced over at you.

You look into his eyes, searching for any ounce of…feeling?

Vulnerability?

You weren't really sure at this point.

“Do you…” You hesitate before continuing, “Do you love me?”

Time stopped.

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink as he just stared at you. The question landed like a blade between his ribs— a question he had been avoiding for years.

He looked away and sighed, his jaw tightening.

“Don’t.”

A heavy silence settled between you. Unsure of what to say, your mouth hung open for a moment before you pressed on anyway.

“You can be honest with me…” You stare at the side of his face.

“Holy fuck.” He ran his hands down his face aggressively. He avoided your eyes—those big fucking innocent eyes that were staring at him like he had all the answers.

“I said don’t.” 

“Choso…” You frown.

“Don't fucking start this.” He slowly turned his head, his agitated gaze meeting yours head-on. His jaw tightened as he held your stare, a dark look settling over his features.

He was warning you.

“Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

You never had any issue challenging him right back.

“Because I'm not interested in making this weird.” His voice came out harsher than he intended, clipped and almost cruel. 

“But…I love you…” You admit quietly.

There's a long silence. He forced himself to keep eye contact with you as the next words left his mouth.

“I don't love you." He said firmly. “This...us... it's just a distraction.”

You freeze, hurt flashing across your eyes before you look away. 

Another long silence.

“Right…sorry…” 

The second the word left your mouth—sorry—something in his chest cracked. You immediately stand, the space between you suddenly cold and empty. Your fingers twitched at your sides like you wanted to reach and fix something you didn’t even know was broken.

“I uh..I think I'm gonna go inside.” You clear your throat, the tightness there making you feel like you're suffocating.

He could see it instantly. The forced words, the way you were actively swallowing down hurt. You were trying to pretend you hadn’t just bared your soul to him, just for him to stomp all over it.

You slid your sandals back on and looked at him one last time before turning away.

He watched your fading form walk back down the stone path before disappearing into the house.

Finally alone, he let his head fall into his hands. His fingers ran through his hair, gripping hard enough to hurt.

What the fuck just happened?

psa: dont smoke and drive yall

♡ masterlist |

© all writing belongs to @zenbabyy. please do not repost or claim as your own.

[kiyomitakada]

world heritage post

[lowpolybunstudio]

chibi!choso

pocket him or pet him?

[meii061]

It’ll be lonely, won’t it?

You and I will be parting ways soon.

[milkpup]

can you do a follow up of puppyboy!choso or other hybirds like toji or nanami or naoya etc???

₊˚.༄ if there's one thing i love to write, it is puppyboys. specifically choso. i'm like a moth and he is my flame. but fr, i can't help it. i do have plans for other hybrids (fox naoya???) so keep an eye out >:))) enjoy (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ not to be dramatic but:

જ⁀➴ mating szn ⁺ . ✦  tags ── ♡ ˚⊹︰mdni (18+), breeding kink, NO PENETRATION (teehee), restraints (choso is tied up), oral (f + m receiving), blowjobs, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, hands-free cum, SUPER NEEDY CHOSO, dacryphilia, despite being called mating szn there is indeed no mating >:)), i actually beta read this let's go ⁺ . ✦ wc. 2,773

it’s that time of the year again— mating season. your brown-haired puppy, choso, has been making a mess everywhere. humping you, piles of your clothes, your pillow, fucking everything. as if every sensation and bit of friction isn’t enough and he needs more, more, more. but honestly? you’re getting tired of cleaning up after him. he needs to learn a lesson about manners and boundaries, regardless of his affliction.

you’re lounging about on the sofa, scrolling through your phone, before an absolutely brilliant idea pops into your head. one that is so enticing, so delicious, and so perfect that it has you nearly jumping to your feet in action. choso notices the sudden movement from across the sofa, one ear piquing as if listening to you, curiously. his eyes watch as your figure disappears into the darkness of the hallway towards your room.

you come back, satisfied that you have everything you need. you walk up to choso, who is lying on a large, soft, plush pouf bean bag. your form blocks his view of the tv, cutting off his gameplay.

he whines in front of you, eyes raking your towering figure before meeting yours.

you say nothing as the latch of a leash clicks into place on his collar. you give a gentle tug on it, testing the connection, as choso leans forward at the sudden movement. his cheeks flare as he realizes exactly what you just did, but all you can do is grin, maniacally.

you tug on the leash once more, pulling him off the pouf onto his feet. “come, puppy, i have something for you,” you say, leading him along to your room. he trails behind you, the game long forgotten as excitement brews within him.

every tug of the leash, every pull of the collar is a direct signal to the pleasure parts of his brain. it makes him forget anything and everything, completely emptying his brain and silencing all thoughts. it might sound hollow if you were to shake him, but he’s exactly where he wants to be. he drools just thinking about you tugging on him, pulling him wherever you go. he’d gladly be dragged along by you, completely at your mercy.

he’s restless by the time you pull him to your room. you lead him to your bed, pushing him atop the plush mattress. his confusion and excitement is written all over his face, plain as day.

“what are we doing? do i get a reward?” he asks you, excited at the prospect of being rewarded for whatever good behavior he’s had.

you smile, gently, as you pet him. “sort of, cho. it’ll be really fun,” you reply.

on the nightstand, his belt lay unassumingly. you order choso to lay on his back, and he complies. your word, his world. anything you say? consider it done. it’s his duty to obey you… why would he ever disobey you?  he wants to spend as much time with you, do as much as he can with you, and listening to you is a part of that. but still…

“you’ve been a bad boy recently,” you say as you pull his hands up and weave the belt between them. you loop the belt around the headboard, securing your makeshift cuffs in place. “and bad boys need to be punished, but don’t worry, i’m very lenient and i’ll take care of you.”

confused once more, choso tries to defend himself. “i’ve been good, i promise, please—“ but he isn’t able to finish his plea as you silence him with a kiss.

you tug on his lips, biting them and licking them, before pulling away. a thin string of spit connects you, another piece of evidence of your connection.

“i had this great idea. you see, this puppy has been making a mess, and i think i know why.” you say, stripping your top off and exposing your chest. choso’s eyes widen as he watches you take your clothes off, one by one, until you’re naked in front of him.

his hands wrestle against the restraints, pulling at them. while he could easily break free, he doesn’t want to. instead the sweet feeling of being held back whispers echoes of pleasure through his body. in the same way that being pulled along by a leash feels good, so does pulling against a restraint feel oh so fucking good. 

he’s already a whimpering, whiny mess as he watches you, anticipating your next move. hopefully you will take his clothes off, hopefully you will touch him soon.but that never comes.

instead, you slink in front of him, propping yourself up with pillows and spreading yourself in front of him. 

he practically eye fucks you as he watches your hands slide down your body, reaching for your core. your legs part, giving him an unfiltered view of your sex, a front row seat to your perversion.

“i bet you want this right now, huh?” you ask, referring to your already wet cunt. he pulls against his restraints in protest, whining as he nods his head.

“y-yes, please, please, please, that’s all i want, pleaseohmygod,” he says, his voice cracking as he whimpers. you can see the already rock hard bulge forming under his pants, pushing against the fabric, begging to be set free.

“so now you can ask? maybe if you did that instead of just trying to hump my fucking leg or whatever, then you could have this. you’re going to have to beg a lot more to even have a chance. for now, you get to watch.”

your hands slide down your stomach towards your cunt. choso watches as your fingers slide into your cunt, stuffing you full. your moans are like sweet agony, watching you is like a prison that he can’t escape. it’s torture watching you get off in front of him.

you work your cunt, alternating between teasing your sensitive clit and fucking yourself. every moment feels like infinity to choso. he finds a decent enough rhythm bucking his hips, humping the fucking air in time with your ministrations. the only sounds are your moans, his whimpers, and your fingers slamming into your cunt. his restraints clatter with every movement he makes, trying and failing at breaking free. 

his collar clinks with every breath he takes, every pull of his arms, and every buck of his hips. he’s panting, whining, and whimpering just watching you. and then you see it; a wet spot forming on his pants, signaling to you that he’s just as into it as you are.

“aw, choso, is watching me too much? do you wish you could fuck me? hm? tell me, pup.” you say, pushing yourself closer to that edge.

his voice cracks, a pathetic yet erotic sound as he replies in between panting breaths. “yes, it’s all i ever want, please i need you so bad ipromiseiwillbegood—“ 

and just like that, delicious pleasure rolls over you. his pathetic attempt at begging along with  seeing him tied up yet desperately begging for even a crumb of your attention has you seeing god. you ride through waves of your orgasm as he practically cries watching you cum.

tears streak down his face as you come down from your high. you could leave him here, just like this, a tied-up, pathetic, whimpering, crying mess. but you have more ideas, more things you want to do.

you move from your spot across him and unbuckle his pants, pulling them down and tossing them aside. his cock springs free as it practically slaps you in the face with freedom.

precum glistens in the moonlight, catching your eye. it’s like his cock is weeping just like he is, with tears on both heads. you feel compelled to taste it, an overwhelming sense of curiosity overtaking you. but even more than that— you want to see his reaction at such a simple touch.

your tongue darts out, licking all the precum off the underside of his cock. he shudders beneath you as his arms tug at the restraints once more. his hips buck towards you, as if craving more than just one lick. his collar chimes, signaling his pathetic perversion. it tastes salty, but honestly not as bad as you would expect. it’s oddly good, like you want more.

you tease him, slowly, wanting to take your time with yourpunishment. you lick the underside of the tip, one of the most, if not the most, sensitive parts on his aching cock. his breath shudders as he chokes out a whimper. you take a moment to admire your work, watching as tears well at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall any moment.

you never thought a man crying would be this enjoyable. your lips plunge across his shaft, working it. choso’s neediness is now at an all-time high as your mouth sucks his member. his body shakes as he fights against the restraints. 

delicious moans accompany the wet sucking sound coming from your mouth. you run your hand along his hard thigh, across his pelvis, and toward his chiseled abdomen. you take a moment to memorize each spot, every angle, all of the sensations of his soft skin. your fingers run across his v-line, committing to memory the way his muscular body dips and creases. tattoos weave across his soft skin, adding more to be studied, more to crave, more to touch.

choso whimpers as your soft fingers run across his skin, igniting little paths of fire along his skin. “please— yes, ah fuck” he curses, struggling to just exist while you practically torture him. just your touch is enough to make him a pathetic, whiny mess.

you push his cock deeper into your throat, trying to find a comfortable rhythm of breathing and bobbing your head up and down. “holy shit— ohmygodyes,” choso gasps as you take him deeper. he pulls on the restraints, body heaving and squirming as you work him. his breath is ragged as his collar clinks.

spit dribbles from the sides of your lips, mixing with his precum as it trails down his cock. the sheer mess of it all is enough to send choso into orbit, literally seeing stars. something about being messy just does it for him; and this is the best kind of mess 

tears stream down his eyes as you pull his cock out of your mouth with a satisfyingplop! choso whimpers at the loss of contact, begging you to continue. “please— it feels s’good, please—“

you don’t let him finish as you flick your tongue around the head of his cock, sending him in a trance. choso gasps as your tongue circles the most sensitive part of his cock. he feels almost drunk from the pleasure, it’s so intense yet so gentle and so perfect. he’s practically panting with the spell you’ve put him under, and you watch from between his legs as he struggles even harder against the belt tying him up. he whimpers under your touch as that familiar coiling sensation in his abdomen spreads and tightens.

“gonna cum, ah fuck, please let me cum—“ his voice cracks as a whimper escapes from his lips. he’s begging you to let him cum, and you almost want to give in. almost.

you stop as you feel his body tense up, right at that point where he was about to unravel. choso pouts as he watches you, wondering why you touched him just to edge him like this.

“this is supposed to be a punishment, remember? bad boys don’t get to cum,” you say, a devilish grin appearing across your features. you have a wonderful idea, probably the best idea in the entire world.

you move from your position between his legs, and crawl above him, kissing a trail of love along his skin until you’re eye level with him. you bite his bottom lip before kissing him, and he takes this moment to dart his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself mixed with you. he whines against your lips, bucking his hips against you, seeking any sensation you’d be willing to give him.

but you have other plans.

you adjust yourself until you’re hovering right over his face. choso knows exactly what you’re about to do as his eyes fill with lust. he’s been dying to taste you all day. 

“be a good boy, okay?” you say, not expecting an answer as you lower yourself onto his mouth. his hands tug at the restraints, desperately wishing they could grip your ass and thighs and just hold onto you as you take a seat on your throne.

a slight whimper escapes your mouth as choso’s tongue expertly darts through your lips, searching for your clit. it’s like he knew exactly what to do as he licks you and laps up all of your arousal. he groans against you, reveling in the taste of your wet cunt.

your hands search for stability, landing on the post choso’s hands are tied to. for a moment, you’re both incapacitated as he darts his tongue around, flicking the underside of your clot and sending shockwaves through your body.

you’re practically panting as his tongue works you, circling and licking that sweet spot. your body quakes as each movement of his soft tongue pushes you ever so closer to that sweet surrender. 

“fuck, Cho, you’re doing so well~” you purr, grinding against his tongue for added friction. he moans beneath you, his muffled voice practically vibrating your cunt. the added stimulation metaphorically kicks you over, pushing you into the abyss. you drown in pleasure as his tongue laps at you, threatening to unravel you any second.

choso never takes his eyes off of you, his brown orbs studying you intently. he watches as you writhe above him, as you moan and whimper with just a flick of his tongue. he can feel his weeping cock throb with every movement he makes. every sound coming from your mouth only serves to make him needier and needier, riling him up even more.

his red-hot cock throbs as precum leaks everywhere. he wants nothing more than to fuck into you, to feel you squeeze and tighten around him as he breeds you. but you just won’t let him.

he changes things a bit, instead choosing to fuck your cunt with his tongue, trying to push it as deep as it will go. if he can’t actually fuck you, if he can’t bury his cock deep into your cunt and take you, then this will have to do.

he starts rutting his hips in tandem with his tongue fucking you. he imagines it’s his cock stuffing you so full. but at the same time, there’s something so absolutely lewd about tasting your cunt as he imagines himself buried inside.

it’s something so, naughty, he thinks. 

your hands grip the headboard tighter as you feel yourself tiptoe on the precipice of pleasure. “be a good boy and don’t stop, ah, I’m so close—“ you say, moans of ecstasy littering every other syllable.

choso eats at you, devouring you until there’s nothing left. watching you and hearing you unravel above him sends him spiraling towards his own orgasm. his pretty cock twitches and dribbles precum, like a leaky faucet that can never be turned off. 

your knuckles turn white as you grip the headboard. the edges of your vision creep in as you feel yourself catapulting off that edge. you swear your whole body tears apart as you cum, feeling the seams of your very existence unravel and disintegrate.

you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you’re choking on air, gasping for every breath.

it isn’t until you get off of choso’s face and unbind him that you see the absolute mess he made on himself.

“was that from eating me out?” you ask, eyes wide  in disbelief and  in sinister satisfaction.

“y-yes…” he says, his voice barely a whisper. his cheeks flare with embarrassment, a blush spreading across his entire face. the redness of his embarrassment compliments his face tattoo, and for a moment, you thank the gods for putting you in this situation.

“awww,” you purr. “such a naughty boy. and here i was about to let you fuck me… but it’s all wasted now, isn’t it?”

upon hearing your taunts, choso’s eyes water. he looks like he might cry in frustration.

“please… no…” he begs, not wanting to be done.

“no? but this was your punishment, Cho, you’ve been a naughty boy, and bad pups don’t get rewarded like that. be a good pup next time, and I’ll let you breed me.” ♡ 

© all works are the intellectual property of milkpup. i do not authorize reuploading/reposting/translating/plagiarising my works including dividers, banners, and images. i do NOT authorize my work to be used for ai chatbots, ai training, or anything involving artificial intelligence. all works are published on tumblr and on ao3, nowhere else.

[yotume]

[watercream]

this is cannon because of plug!choso.

potential plug!choso smut coming?

[reignpage]

SYNOPSIS:

in which the men turn to the AITA subreddit for opinions on their relationship disputes. the comments aren't always the most...supportive

warnings: just fluff and crack, some cursing, some sexual language, prob not the most accurate depiction of reddit (I am not familiar with the platform so I did my best lol), non curse au mostly, NOT PROOFREAD (this was a pain to edit you don't even know so I don't want to hear it) featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna

[pnglove]