plug!choso and his messy situationship part two
pairing // choso x fem!reader
warning // 18+ only!, angst w/ comfort, marijuana use, smut, unprotected sex, choking, rough sex, toxic fight, choso is shitty but makes up for it ig
word count: 5.6k
part one |
You blinked back tears as you pushed through the crowded house. Your chest felt tight, your heart aching with every beat as you mindlessly waded through the sweaty bodies and thick smell of weed.
“There she is!” Gojo’s voice was like a siren cutting through the fog of your misery.
He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side before you could dodge him. His dark shades sat on the tip of his nose.
“Choso lose you?” He squeezed your shoulders, grinning.
You half-smiled up at him.
“Yeah…he should still be out by the pool if you're looking for him.” You mutter out.
“Mhm.” His eyes narrowed slightly, searching your face. He saw the glassy sheen in your eyes, the forced smile.
“You okay?”
You don't answer for a moment.
“That easy to tell, huh?”
“Painfully easy.” He pulled back slightly to get a better look at you, those bright blue eyes carefully studying your face.
“Wanna talk about it?”
A humorless laugh slipped past your lips as you glanced down, a bitter look on your face.
“Not really.”
“Makes it Choso then, doesn't it?”
The question settled heavily between you. You didn't answer, but you didn't have to. The silence alone was enough.
“Yeah. Thought so.” He tilted his head. “What did he do this time?”
Was he really going to make you say it? It’s not like he couldn’t guess.
Gojo had spent years watching whatever this was unfold between you and Choso. Long before you guys even got together, and certainly long enough to know it had never been healthy.
He'd watched you excuse every one of Choso’s careless actions, twisting yourself into knots to make them hurt less than they actually did. And he'd watched Choso desperately cling to your devotion, taking and taking whatever he could from you without stopping to ask if it was too much.
Neither of you ever seemed to learn.
No matter how badly it ended, no matter how many times one of you got hurt, you always found your way back to each other. Like two people tethered together by an invisible string.
Your eyes drifted around the crowded room, taking in the drunk strangers packed shoulder to shoulder around you before settling back on him.
“Not here...” You sighed, finally giving in. “Let’s go to your room.”
His grin faded completely, understanding immediately.
So, with a single nod, his grip on your shoulder tightened, and he steered you gently towards the stairs.
He knew exactly what you were asking for. Exactly what you needed—what you always needed after Choso fucked you over.
“Come on.”
You let him lead you up the stairs and to his door.
He opened it for you, stepping aside so you could enter first. The moment you walked in, you headed straight for his oversized bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress while he followed behind.
The room was dimly lit, long shadows stretching across the floor as moonlight filtered through the windows. Gojo shut the door with a soft click before crossing the room and stopping in front of you.
For a moment, he simply looked down at you before crouching between your legs, leaning forward enough that his breath brushed against your knees.
Without saying a word, he reached beneath the bed and dragged out a worn shoebox.
“Let's make this quick,” he said, flipping open the lid. “I still have a party to get back to.”
You sighed, your shoulders sagging slightly as you gave a small nod.
────────
“Ho—ly shiiiiiiit.” You heaved out.
You were hunched over on the edge of the bed, coughing harshly into your fist as your lungs burned. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the force of it, your chest aching as you struggled to catch your breath.
Across from you, Gojo was calmly reheating the bowl of his dab rig, the flame from his torch turning the glass a bright orange.
When he deemed it hot enough, he picked up the glass rod, swirling the wax around the heated bowl before capping it and pulling a thick cloud of smoke into his lungs.
He held it for a few seconds, cheeks puffing slightly as he fought the urge to cough. A few muffled bursts escaped through his pursed lips, the noise strained and uneven before he couldn’t hold it anymore and he doubled over into a loud, obnoxious coughing fit.
You laughed at his dramatic display, the haze settling over your mind making everything feel lighter, easier.
He groaned as he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shuffled over to the bed and flopped down next to you.
“Okay, spill it.” His tone was gentle as he looked over at you.
You bite your lip as you recall the events that happened between Choso and you.
“Well…I asked him if he loved me…” You blink down at your hands. “Then, I told him I loved him.”
Gojo didn’t even look shocked. He just sighed, a long, heavy sound that told you he'd seen this coming from a mile away.
“And?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. “What did he say?”
“He told me he didn't love me.” You said quietly.
“Damn...”
You sat there for a while, neither of you saying anything. After a moment, Gojo glanced over at you, finding heartbreak etched into the soft lines of your face. His expression softened as he reached out, gently running his hand up and down your arm.
“It'll be okay.”
The simple gesture made something twist painfully in your chest.
It reminded you of Choso.
Of the early mornings you’d spent tangled together in bed long before the birds started singing. He'd pull you against his chest and lazily drag the tips of his fingers up and down the backs of your arms while you listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
That stupid fucking bastard—
“Y'know that's just who he is, right?” Gojo asked, breaking you from your thoughts. “He runs from anything that makes him think too hard.”
His hand continued its slow path up and down your arm as he spoke.
“Feelings, conversations, commitment. Doesn't matter what it is. If he doesn't wanna deal with it, he pretends it isn't there.”
“That’s so lame.” You scoff.
The sad thing was that you were already painfully aware of this fact.
“Yeah, but it should be his problem, not yours.” He stretched as he spoke, long limbs sprawling into the space beside you before he let himself sink further into the mattress.
“Why can't he just…admit it?” Your voice was small.
“Because he's emotionally constipated.” He looks at you intently, like he’s trying to drill his words into your thick skull.
“Listen to me, that man has been obsessed with you for years. Li-ter-al yeeeaaars.” Gojo rested his chin against his palm, looking at you like the answer was painfully obvious. “I've had a front row seat to this whole disaster since the beginning, and trust me, Choso has never been subtle.”
“Yeah... well, he's got a funny way of showing it.” You give a small frown.
“That's because he's not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Gojo said, earning a breathy laugh from you. “You think that man knows what to do with his feelings? Half the time he doesn't even know what he's feeling until it's already become everyone else's problem.”
The small smile on your face faltered.
“I don't know... maybe I've been reading everything wrong. Maybe I just saw what I wanted to see.”
Gojo groans softly.
“You didn't.” He leans forward, his voice losing some of its usual teasing edge. “I see it every time you walk into a room. His whole demeanor changes. He starts paying attention to how he's standing, what he's saying, whether you're paying attention to him. It’s honestly quite pathetic.”
You looked down at your hands.
“Still...”
“Look,” Gojo interrupted gently, “Choso is stubborn, but that doesn't change the fact that he's completely gone for you.”
You glanced up at him, uncertainty still lingering in your expression.
Gojo wasn't usually wrong about people, even you could admit that.
If anyone would know, it was him.
“Okay…I guess I'll try to talk to him again.” You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Good.” He pokes your nose gently.
“Now you stay here as long as you want. I’m gonna go entertain my guests, and maybe mess with Choso a little bit.” He snickers, his shoulders rolling as he stands.
“Fine, but I'm definitely going to look through your stuff.” You smile as you lie back.
“Go ahead, Snoopy, just don't look under the bed.” He winks and slips out the door.
You let out a deep exhale once you were finally alone.
Pushing yourself off the bed, you wandered over to Gojo's dresser, your eyes drifting across the assortment of items scattered across its surface. Every single thing seemed to scream money. Crystal bottles of expensive cologne sat neatly arranged beside watches that probably cost more than your car.
Gojo had always been showy like that.
Your curiosity was interrupted by a buzz from somewhere behind you.
Turning around, you crossed the room and reached into your purse, fishing around until your fingers closed around your phone. The light lit up the space around you as you checked the new notification on your lock screen.
1 New Message. 2 minutes ago.
choso <3: We're leaving.
You stared at the screen.
That was it.
No apology. No acknowledgement of what had happened. Not even a half-assed attempt to explain himself.
A quiet scoff slipped from your lips.
Stuffing your phone back into your purse, you yanked open the bedroom door and headed downstairs. The moment you reached the bottom, your eyes landed on Gojo and Choso.
Gojo was leaning casually against a baluster on one side of the staircase, a smug smirk plastered across his face. Across from him stood Choso, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his entire body tense as he stared back at him.
Choso barely looks at you as he pushes from the railing, turning to head towards the exit without a word.
You follow behind him slowly, looking over at Gojo with a confused look. He just winks at you before turning and walking into the crowd.
The sun had fully disappeared by now, leaving the grand estate bathed in darkness. A chilly breeze swept across your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you made your way back to Choso's car.
He didn't wait for you.
The moment he reached it, he unlocked the doors and climbed inside, slamming his door shut hard enough to make you flinch.
You frown slightly before getting in yourself.
The engine roared to life, vibrating through the chassis. You lick your lips as you glance at him before quickly focusing your gaze on the dash.
The silence in the cabin was deafening, broken only by the hum of the tires as he pulled onto the street.
You glance at him again, Gojo’s words ringing through your head.
‘He’s completely gone for you.’
You swallow thickly before speaking.
“Cho?”
He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight. The lights of the other cars reflected in his eyes, turning them into chips of ice as he pulled onto the freeway.
Finally, he spoke, voice low and tight.
“Don’t call me that,” he sounded angry, “and don’t fucking talk to me right now.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why are you being such a dick?”
“Watch your mouth.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He wasn’t even looking at you, his profile sharp and angry.
“You fucking pushed. I warned you not to push. Now you’re cryin’ ‘cuz you didn’t get the answer you wanted.” He presses down further on the gas pedal making the car speed up well past the speed limit.
“So what? That means you get to treat me like shit?” You scoff.
“Yes.” He replied coldly, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror briefly. “That’s exactly what it means. You’re not my problem. Never fucking were. All you did was beg for something that I wasn’t willing to give.”
He swerved around a slow car aggressively.
“You’re not my fucking girlfriend.”
Your heart lurched painfully in your chest.
“Wow.” You stared at him, disappointment written plainly across your face.
Silence swallowed the car as his words settled between you. You sat rigidly in your seat, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared blankly out the window, watching distant headlights and streetlights smear together in the darkness.
A quiet scoff leaves your lips.
Fuck this.
“Stop the car,” you said, your voice low and trembling with anger.
Choso's grip tightened around the steering wheel, the muscles in his jaw jumping.
“No.”
Something in you snapped.
“I said stop the fucking car!” You shouted, yanking on the door handle. The door flew open, cold air rushing violently into the car as the asphalt sped past only a few feet below.
“Stop—are you fucking crazy?” Choso lunged across the center console, one hand shooting out to grab your arm while the other fought to keep control of the wheel.
“Close the fucking door!”
The car swerved as you turned towards him, the door slamming shut.
“Don’t fucking touch me asshole!” You shove his arm away. “You don’t get to fucking talk to me like that and then tell me what to do!”
“Get over it.” He glared at you before he focused back on the road, his muscles twitching from the rush of adrenaline.
You huff and sit back in your seat.
“I hate you.” Tears blur your vision as you glare back at him.
He didn’t react. Just kept driving as silent tears poured down your cheeks.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
────────
The silence between you was heavy.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled into his driveway. The engine died with a finality that mirrored the current state of your relationship.
You both sat there, the silence amplifying your sniffles and quiet, gasping breaths.
He let out a sharp, aggravated exhale before shoving his door open and hauling himself out, letting it slam shut. You watched him storm around the front of the car to the front door, unlocking it aggressively and leaving it wide open behind him.
You shakily make your way into the house and head straight to his room. You pull a random bag from his closet and start shoving your things inside it. Anything you could reach you grabbed.
Your charger.
Your iPad.
The lotions and hair products on his dresser.
The clothes you’d discarded on the floor the night before.
You were packing with shaking hands and blurred vision, desperate to get out, to be literally anywhere else but there.
You heard his heavy stomps coming from the living room before he entered the room.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He stood at the doorway, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You just ignored him, pulling his dresser open to pull out the clothes he’d insisted you left there.
At the time, he told you it was only logical.
‘I mean, you basically live here at this point.’ He smiled down at you as you guys stood under the hot stream of the shower. His hands were pressed firmly onto your hips, pulling your bare body flush against his. You smiled and kissed his chest, promising you would bring more the next time you came.
You squeeze your eyes shut at the memory.
You opened them again to dig through the contents of the drawer, forcing yourself not to look at him.
He watched you pack, his jaw ticking violently as his angry resolve slowly began to crack. Beneath it, panic was starting to bloom, settling uncomfortably deep in his chest.
“Don't.” The word came out more pleading than he'd intended. “Don't fucking pack your shit and leave.”
You continued to ignore him, focusing on shoving the last of your things into the duffle before zipping it shut and throwing the strap over your shoulder.
“Just wait—” He stepped forward immediately, grabbing the strap and pulling it off your shoulder before you could take another step.
“Isn't this what you wanted?” You snapped, yanking it back into place. You tried to step around him, intent on walking out the door and out of his life for good.
He moved faster than you expected, stepping directly into your path and blocking the doorway.
“Put the fucking bag down.”
Something shifted across his face as he said it. The anger was still there, but it was being swallowed by something else. Something desperate.
“What the fuck do you want from me, Choso?” You threw your hands up in frustration.
He visibly flinched.
“I... I, uh...” He swallowed hard as the panic he'd been fighting finally broke through his cruel facade.
“What more could you possibly have to say to me right now?” Your chest tightened with that ugly feeling of rejection and insecurity, making it hard to breathe. “You already told me you don’t want me, what more can you say after that?”
He just stared at you, pain swirling in his dark irises.
“Or is it that you want my body, but nothing else that comes with it? Is that it?” You glared up at him through blurry vision.
“Don't fucking put words in my mouth.” He snapped.
You laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“I'm not doing shit. You said it yourself—you don't want me here.” By now, the tears were falling freely down your face.
“Of course I want you here.” The words came out immediately. “I want you in my bed. I want us to stay the way we are. But I told you from the start I wasn't doing that relationship shit.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You caught feelings anyways.”
You stared into his eyes, your own reflecting regret and heartbreak.
“That shit's not good enough anymore.”
Something cracked across his face.
It happened so quickly you almost missed it, but it was there. A flash of pain so raw and exposed that it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.
“I can't keep doing this, Cho...” Your gaze dropped to the floor as tears dripped from your chin onto your shirt. “I just can't.”
God, this sucked.
The silence that followed felt suffocating. Choso watched your shoulders cave in on themselves, watched you shrink beneath the weight of everything that had finally come crashing down between you.
“Just...” He dragged a hand down his face before letting out a heavy breath. “I told you what this was.”
Your lips trembled as a fresh wave of tears blurred your vision.
“Why do you always push me away?”
The question hit him harder than he expected. His eyes stung instantly.
“Because...” He swallowed thickly. “Feelings fade over time.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth. “Love is just a fucking word people use to hurt each other.”
You shook your head. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
“Everyone says that.” His voice carried years of disappointment, of unhealed betrayal. “Every. Single. One of them. Then they're gone.”
“I could never leave you...” Your eyes bore into his, pleading for him to finally see the sincerity written across every inch of your face.
“I love you, Choso.”
There was a long pause as you both stood there, neither of you willing to be the first to let go.
His eyes searched yours, looking for a shred of doubt.
Dishonesty—anything to prove you didn’t mean what you were saying.
But he couldn’t find anything.
His shoulders slumped, and for the first time all night, he looked small. Like the awkward teenage boy he was when you first met. Like the man that broke down in your arms the night his ex left him.
His resolve finally broke.
The tears he'd been desperately holding back spilled over, falling in heavy drops down his cheeks.
“I-I’m not good for you...”
You gasped quietly, the duffle slipping from your hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him into a tight embrace.
“Oh, Cho...”
His hands found your shoulders immediately. He held you so close it was almost painful, as though he was terrified you'd walk away the second he let go.
“I'll only end up hurting you.” He choked out, burying his face in your neck.
You squeezed him tighter.
“I don't care... I just want you.”
His shoulders began to shake beneath your embrace.
“I'm going to fuck you up...” He cried. “You'll end up hating me.”
It sounded less like a warning and more like an attempt to convince himself he couldn’t be trusted.
“I could never hate you.” You mumbled against his chest.
A broken sound escaped him, something caught between a sob and a gasp. His grip tightened further as he pressed his face into your shoulder, breathing you in like he was drowning.
“You should,” he whispered, his voice wrecked, “fuck, you should hate me.”
Your heart ached at how deeply he seemed to believe it.
“I love you. So fucking much, Cho...”
That was his undoing.
Hearing those words for the third time shattered whatever defenses he had left. His entire body seemed to fold in on itself as another sob tore from his chest. He clung to you with a desperation that bordered on fear, like you were the only thing keeping him grounded to Earth.
“It's okay, baby...” You held him just as tightly, your fists bunching in the fabric of his shirt.
“It's not okay,” he choked out. “I'm not fucking okay.”
His fingers dug into your shoulder blades.
“Don't leave me... please don't fucking leave me.” He begged you.
Carefully, you pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands.
“I will never leave you,” you whispered. “I can't live without you.” You looked up at him, and something in your expression made his breath catch.
“I need you…”
For a moment, all Choso could do was stare. Like he couldn't quite believe someone was choosing him.
“Then you fucking have me.” He whispered.
As soon as the words left his mouth, you crashed your lips onto his. He kissed you back with a desperation he’d never shown before. His lips moving against yours like he was starving.
He poured everything into the kiss—years of loneliness, fear, self-hatred, and an overwhelming love for you he had buried deep in the depths of his soul.
You sigh as the kiss deepens, his hands sliding down to squeeze the swell of your ass.
“Cho…I need you…” Your eyes are heavy and low as you stare into his. He presses his mouth to yours again, pushing his tongue in to let it slide against yours wetly.
You whimper as he pulls back slightly to let you breathe.
“Please…” You whine as his hands slid down further, gripping the fat harsher.
“Please what?” He knew what you meant—he could practically feel the desperation radiating off of you—but he needed to hear it. He needed you to tell him how much you wanted him. “Tell me what you want.”
You gasp as he pulls your cheeks apart through your loose shorts, your hole clenching violently at the sudden pull.
“I-I need you to fuck me…” You look up at him with wide glossy eyes.
“Fuck.” The word left his mouth on a groan, his hips jerking violently against yours.
“You want my cock? Want me to fuck your tight little pussy?” His dick was already so fucking hard it hurt. He’s never wanted anyone else like this—never needed to be inside someone so badly.
“Yes!” You gasp out, nodding your head frantically.
He groaned and pushed you back until you fell onto the bed behind you.
“You sure?” He palmed his hard cock through his sweats, the bulge straining against the soft material. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Yes…” You lean forward to push his hand away, gripping his girth between your own fingers. “I wanna feel you inside me.”
“Jesus fucking christ.” His hands began yanking your clothes off with urgency, stripping you bare in seconds.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pants out, hooking his hands under the crease of your knees to push your legs higher until they were pressed against your stomach
“Please…” A soft exhale leaves your lips at the pressure of being completely folded in half.
The sight of you spread out—open, wet, and begging for him—made his vision blur. He pulled his hands away, ridding himself of his shirt, reaching up to pull at the back of his collar until it slipped over his head and fell onto the floor.
Then, he pushed his sweats and boxers down, kicking them away when they pooled at his ankles.
His cock sprang free, heavy and leaking with pre-cum.
He reached forward to grab you by the hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed until your ass was barely hanging off.
When his grip returned to the backs of your thighs he took the time to squeeze the soft flesh between his fingers before pushing them back into that perfect fold that he loved.
He positioned himself over you, the blunt head dragging through your soaking folds.
“Look at me.” He rubs the underside of his tip against your hard aching clit over and over.
You moan softly as you stare into his eyes. You could feel your slit drooling out globs of sticky slick all over him and the inside of your thighs.
He sighed at the feeling, his lashes fluttering. “Fucking perfect.” He choked out, lining himself up.
You guys watch each other as he pushes in, groaning in unison at the tight fit.
“Oh f-fuck…” He stutters out as he slowly buries himself inside you.
“Ohh, baby.” You gasp at the deep burn, looking down to watch your swollen cunt swallow him inch by inch, his massive frame pressing you into the mattress until there was nowhere else to go.
A strangled groan tore from his throat as he followed your gaze down to where your bodies joined.
“You’re—” He swallowed harshly, “so fuckin’ tight…” The words were pulled out of him, his jaw dropping as your walls clenched around him. Once his hips were settled flush against your ass, buried balls-deep inside your warmth, he focused back in on your face.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, your mouth open in a perfect, gorgeous “o”.
“Shh, I got you.” He groaned, his hips giving tiny, involuntary jerks, fighting the urge to fucking destroy you.
You opened your eyes once you felt the overwhelming burn in your stretched hole dull ever so slightly.
“I…I’m ready, Cho…” You swallowed.
He could’ve cried at those words. At the way you trusted him—even now, with him stretching you impossibly, filling you completely. He gripped your thighs tighter, spreading you wider.
“Look at me when I take you.” He demanded, his voice trembling with raw emotion and desperation.
He pulled out slowly…until only the tip remained. Then he pushed back in, grinding deep.
“You like that?” He panted, eyes never leaving yours. Then, he did it again: a slow deep withdrawal followed by a devastating plunge that made your eyes roll slightly as you fought to keep them locked on his.
“Tell me what you feel, baby.”
“S-So deeeeep…” You whined.
“Yeah? You’re taking it so deep for me.” He moans. His pace was agonizingly slow, each stroke making you feel every thick inch of him.
“You can take more though…right?”
Your head lolled to the side as you nodded. “Yesss, wan’ it all.”
“Goooood girl.” He moaned out as his hips shifted, snapping forward harder, his tip pushing against your sweet spot with practiced accuracy.
“Choso!” You gasp out.
Your hole was gushing out around him, the slick sticking to both of your thighs and his heavy balls that slapped wetly against your puckered asshole.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
“Fucking—hell!” He was moving relentlessly now—a deep, rutting grind that punched the air from your lungs every time.
“Oh shit!” You reached your hands up to grip his biceps as he fucked right up against your cervix, a dull pain shooting through your core making you clench impossibly tighter around him.
“T-Too deeeep…” You let your head fall back against the bed.
“Fuckin’ take it.” He snarled, his rhythm absolutely brutal now. He was pounding into your sloppy hole, the bedframe creaking beneath you. Every thrust was perfectly calculated to nail that spot, making your eyes cross and your toes curl.
“You feel me in your fuckin’ stomach?” He reaches down to press his palm firm against your lower abdomen, right above your pubic bone. He could feel the blunt pressure of his cock just beneath your soft skin.
“That’s me.” He groans.
You gasp as the pressure only makes everything tighter, his fat girth dragging against every sensitive spot inside you.
“Fuuuck Choso!”
You look down and watch how he disappears over and over, mesmerized that your body could hide something so big. There’s a filthy, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
It was obscene—proof of how well you were taking him.
“Look at that mess.” He rutted down harder, pressing his hand down with every thrust. “You like watching that? Huh?”
His hips paused for a moment, giving you full view as he withdrew almost entirely—the entire length of his shaft slick with that cream just to vanish inside your puffy slit.
“Y-Your cock is soo.. s’fuckin’ biiigg…” You slurred, drool dripping out the corner of your mouth.
“And it’s all inside you.” He reaches his other hand up to grip your throat tight enough to make your clit throb. “My girl…”
He surged forward, digging his cock in and out of you at a speed you couldn't keep up with. Your eyes rolled back as loud squelching noises filled the space.
“Fuck, gonna cum in this pussy…” He pants, his thrust growing sloppy.
“Nnnnnghh gon—na cuummmmm…” Your core pulses as your thighs begin to shake under his weight.
“Do it.” He growls, his hand tightening fractionally on your throat, cutting off your air just enough to make your vision swim. “Let that fucking pussy go. I want to feel you cum around me.”
He nailed that blinding spot deep inside you, grinding ruthlessly until your back arched off the bed, your whole body locking up tight.
You cum with a guttural groan, your pussy contracting tight around his shaft.
“That’s fucking it…” He whined, his hips never stopping as your orgasm tore through you. He fucked you straight through it, prolonging the blinding waves of pleasure until you were a whimpering, moaning mess.
“Milk that fucking cock.” He panted sweat dripping onto your chest.
He released your throat leaving you gasping and crying out as your sensitive body twitched weakly.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” He growled.
He grabbed your calves roughly, throwing them over his shoulders as he slammed back into you, holding himself deep as his cock swelled then pulsed violently, rope after rope of thick, hot cum unleashing inside you.
You dig your nails into his arms at the feeling, tears of exhaustion falling down the sides of your face. “Cho…”
“Take it—take all of it.” He groaned, grinding deep as his cock continued to twitch and fill you. He could feel his cum mixing with your wetness, your insides swollen and dripping around him.
His hips stuttered erratically as he emptied himself completely, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a shaky exhale.
“Fuck…”
For a moment, the only sound was both your ragged breaths. He buried his face into your neck as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“I love you.” He muttered into your skin.
More tears immediately pricked at your eyes as the weight of those three words settled over you. After all the years of wanting him, all the nights spent wondering if he felt even a fraction of what you did, he finally said it.
“I love you too.” You sniffle.
He gently guides your legs down to the bed and stands, picking up his shirt to gently wipe the mess from your bodies before pulling you up to the head of the mattress and collapsing onto your chest.
You run your hands through his hair as you hold him against your heart.
He tilted his head up to look at you. His eyes met yours with an unguarded expression.
“I’m sorry.”
You hum and run your thumb over the tattoo across his face.
“I know… Me too.”
The darkness of his gaze usually concealed everything, but now, in the quiet afterglow, you saw the cracks.
The vulnerability.
The terrifying devotion that lived beneath the facade.
“Will you…” He gulped. “Will you be mine?”
A smile breaks out onto your face as you cup his jaw.
“Of course, baby.”
The relief that washed over his face was unmistakable. The fear replaced with pure, unadulterated softness that made your heart flutter.
He pressed his face firmly into your hands, kissing your palms again and again.
And there you both stayed, tangled in a messy, sticky heap of limbs and whispered declarations of love, ignoring the cooling discomfort between your legs in favor of the warmth radiating from your chests.
The promises traded in the dark were sacred—binding vows of forever that sealed your souls together.
Sleep claimed you both in a gentle tide, leaving you finally, peacefully whole.
No longer chasing.
No longer running.
*sigh*
♡ masterlist |
© all writing belongs to @zenbabyy. please do not repost or claim as your own.
