fem! reader x megumi , fem drunk, toxic behaviour, dirt talk, a bit violent, feral, creampie,fingering , overstimulation, jealousy, pet names, prasing, swearing, oral (both), multiple orgasms, leaving marks, aftercare¿?
( +2k )
One more time won’t hurt right? That’s what you told to yourself before texting your toxic ex Megumi while you were drunk.
It was 2 am in the morning and you spent the whole night with Nobara and Yuji partying and like always you drank two shots more than you should.
It passed 5 months since you and Megumi broke up, more specifically since you broke up with him, after dating him for 2 years.
You told yourself that you wouldn’t talk to to him anymore since his behaviour was very toxic, controlling and some times very intense for you. And you swore you wouldn’t date a man like that, so after a huge fight you guys had you decided that you deserved better, that he had a lot of insecurities and that you were a free woman. No man should tell you how to dress or where to be!
You did amazing you stood on your ground, very confident of course, but oh poor little thing you really thought that he wouldnt try to come back? That you wouldnt miss him? Well al least you had some good intentions, thats what counts!!!
You were in your way home, Nobara and Yuji didnt drink as much as you did, because even if you hate to admit it you still loved him, his gifts, the way he caressed your hair every night, his soft kisses despite his harsh voice sometimes, the way he took care of you and always made sure you were alright. You loved the way his eyes lighted up every time he spotted you in crowded places, his tenderness and how romantic he could get even if he looked nonchalant. Oh..and of course the way he ate you up every night, devouring your pussy like a man who didnt ate for a week, oh.. he gave you the best head you could ever imagine.
You fucking missed him so much,you hated that he was being such a paranoid guy with every stare you received admiring your beauty when he took you to dates. At first his possessivness wasnt that bad, it was at the same level as yours till one day, you went outside with a slim dress that defined the figure of your incredible body.
You got yourself pretty since it was your first anniversary and when he notice all the guys looking at you all mesmerised by your beauty, he couldnt handle it anymore and took you back to his apartment and decided to instead have a film date at his.
"You are being immature love, this its our first anniversary.." you said really disappointed as you threw your bag in his sofa annoyed.
He sighed "Then dont draw that much attention I know you look stunning babe, as always my love, but I hate that other guys are appreciating what is mine.." he spoke to you softly very calm compared to how harsh he talked to you back there, then he took off his jacket and shoes while he sat at the sofa like nothing.
You were pissed off but since he spoke always to you in a soft voice it was hard to resist, really hard..
And that should have been the first sign to tell you that it wasnt going to get any better.
.
You were walking into the club with the bass already vibrating through your chest, lights flickering like they had a pulse of their own. The air smelled like perfume, sweat, and something sweet you couldn’t quite place. Nobara, your best friend stayed close to your side, fingers brushing your arm every now and then like she was making sure you wouldn’t get lost into the crowd.
Yuji was a few steps ahead, turning back with that easy grin, waving you both over toward the bar. It still felt a little strange being out with him, since he is Megumi's best friend but these nights it didn’t seem to matter. You were enjoying since everything felt lighter, louder, faster.
“First round’s on me,” he shouted over the music.
You didn’t even hesitate, he didnt have to tell you twice before you rushed to drink your first shots of the night.
The first drink went down too easily. Then another. And another.
You told yourself you were just having fun, just letting go since its a party.
Your best friend laughed at something you said, something that probably wasn’t that funny but you laughed harder, your balance tipping slightly as you leaned into her and the room had started to blur at the edges, lights smearing into streaks of color.
“Hey,” she said, holding your shoulders for a second longer than usual. “Maybe slow down a bit?”
“I’m fine,” you insisted, though your words didn’t come out as steady as you meant them to. “Im just- this is fun....I’m having fun...we are having fun..”
Yuji reappeared with more drinks, then paused when he really looked at you but then his smile faded just a little.
“How much have you had?”
You shrugged, which turned into a slight sway, and as expected the floor didn’t feel as solid anymore.
“Mmm I dont know..” you admitted, laughing again, but it came out uneven.
Your best friend exchanged a quick look with him, knowing what was coming next. You caught it, vaguely, but it felt distant, like watching something through glass, you were too busy lost in your thoughts.. in Megumi..
“Okay,” she said gently, brushing your hair back. “We’re gonna get you some water.”
“I don’t need-” you started, but the sentence slipped away halfway through. The music suddenly felt too loud, your head too light and everything seemed to turn like spinning top.
Yuji stepped closer, steadying you before you could stumble. “Yeah, you do.”
They guided you through the crowd, slower now, more careful. The cool air near the edge of the club hit your skin, and you shivered slightly, leaning into them without thinking.
“Its okay,” your best friend murmured. “We’ve got you.”
And even through the haze, through the spinning lights and muffled music, that part landed clearly.
But at least you weren’t alone...
.
"I told you not to drink that much... now you cant even walk properly see?" Nobara kept grabbing your arm to make you keep the balance as they walked you back to your house.
"Mmm, you know what Nobarara?...mmmm Im a disguised pricess, and actually this is a test to know who is my trrue friend..yeah" you kept murmuring non sense as Nobara sighed and laughed at your comments with Yuji.
"You should rest after this.." he held your purse that kept falling of your arm and looked back at Nobara a bit worried.
"Bro since she broke up with him, she is bad.. every day she is getting worse, I think they should get back together or at least talk.." he looked back at you, who was mumbling still some random things while holding onto your dearest friend.
"I know but its better like this, your little friend was too toxic for her and you know that Yuji, as much as you love Megumi, you know that he is crazy.." her hand was tight on your waist while the other was holding your arm that was placed around her neck.
Even if you were dizzy the moment you heard the name Megumi made you stop, for a moment you heart was racing and your eyes started to get watery.
"Hey, hey, are you okey?" Nobara stopped as well looking at you while Yuji approaches you worried.
And before you could even notice your tears were all over your face, while you cover your face with one hand.
"I texted him.. and I- I- arghh" you were almost sobbing in Nobara's arms "I miss that dickhead so much.."
Yuji and Nobara looked at eachother as she helped you sit in a bench that was near a park.
"You texted Megumi?" Yuji looked at you with a mix of surprise and worry, deep down he wanted this to happen but not like this, not while you are drunk.
Before even the conversation could even continue a mysterious shadow approaches to you and your friends, only Yuji noticing.
"Who is th-" but he couldnt finish his sentence before the strage figure talks.
"Hey... is she okey?" Megumi approached to where you were a bit worried since you couldnt stop sobbing but he didnt looked at you directly. He gave a small tap to Yuji's shoulder.
You looked up at the same time as your best friend, cleaning your face with the tissue Nobara gave you.
Your heart was racing, it has been 4 months since you saw him, he was wearing a pressed on shirt with sweatpants, and he was almost covered with sweat, he looked like he came over here running.
"How do you know we were here? Yuji is this your-" Nobara couldnt even finish her sentence before Megumi interrupts her while he rubs the back of his neck.
"Mmm is was actually her, she told me she missed me and she sent me her location... umm of course I knew she was drunk..she wouldnt text me sober.." he admitted, he pronounced those words like if they were stabbing his heart, not once or twice but multiple times.
"Megumi.." you whispered as you looked up at him, eyes yearning for his.
He finally looked at you and everything stopped.
The streetlights above cast a soft glow over him, but it was his eyes that held you. Dark, steady, and yet so much more exposed than you remembered. The moment stretched, thick with everything unsaid, everything that had you have been holding for months.
It wasn’t just eye contact, it was the eye contact.
It was two years of history crashing into four months of silence.
Your breath caught, your chest tightening as if something fragile inside you had just been pulled into the light.
There was a sharpness to it, almost overwhelming but underneath, something warm, something that felt like home but in the most dangerous way, like it was risky.
He looked at you like you were still important, and sure you were for him.
He couldnt forget about you, how he could?
And that scared you more than anything.... because it was the same for you.
Yuji shifted beside Nobara, clearing his throat awkwardly as Nobara stood up with a small sigh, brushing off her skirt.
“Alright,” she said, stretching slightly. “We’re gonna… give you two time to talk.”
Yuji blinked. “We are?”
“We are.” she repeated, grabbing his sleeve.
Then she leaned slightly toward Megumi, her voice dropping just enough to turn sharp.
“If you don’t take her home safe,” she muttered, “I’m going to kill you.”
Yuji let out a quiet grin “yeah” as she dragged him away, leaving the two of you alone under the dim streetlight.
Silence absorbed the ambience.
Real silence this time with no music, no crowd, it was just the faint sound of cars in the distance and your uneven breathing.
You looked down at your hands, still clutching the tissue.
“…You came fast,” you murmured slowly.
“I was nearby,” he said automatically.
You glanced up at him with a soft gaze.
“…Megumi..you werent..”
A small pause, he shifted and sat next to you.
“…No,” he admitted running a hand back in his hair.
There it was again that honesty that you always loved about him.
You swallowed, your fingers tightening slightly. “You didn’t have to...”
“I know.”
Another pause.
"But I wanted to.."
God, this was harder than you thought.
“I just…” you started, then shook your head, letting out a weak laugh. “Forget it, I’m probably too drunk, this is stupid, Im going to forget this by morning anyways..”
“It’s not stupid, and if you are worried about forgetting..”
Your eyes flicked up to his again.
"I will make sure you remember.." even if his main intention wasnt sounding freaky you couldnt not think about another way to make you remember things...
Damn how you hated to be drunk because one moment you could be crying your eyes out and the other horny like a nypho.
He hadn’t moved much, still having some distance between both of you, like he was scared to you would leave if he got closer.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” you added, quieter now. “About missing you.”
He didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened slightly, like he was holding something back.
“Why? I know you meant it..” he said turning his head to you.
You looked away.
“…That doesn’t change anything, even if i missed you so much.”
It came out firmer this time, you couldnt believe that you were saying these things, but fuck it, you would always blame it in the alcohol anyways.
And he nodded, like he understood what you actually meant.
Even if you missed him and no matter how many times you thought about him, you couldn’t allow yourself to get back together with after all..
But who knows, people change right?, or at least that’s what you hoped.
“I know.”
Gosh, you didnt expect to hurt that much, why couldnt everything go back normal like before?
And the worst was that he wasn’t arguing, he wasn’t pushing, he wasn’t trying to twist your words like before...it felt like you were taking to another version of him.
But for the sake of everything, even if this moment was hard and complicated your eyes kept flickering down to his pants since he was manspreading, and only him knows how much that turned you on..
“I can take you home,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now.
You hesitated, your heart pulling you in a direction you knew you shouldn’t follow so easily, you knew there was no coming back if you said yes.
Sitting here with him felt too familiar, and so easy, too tempting to fall back into..but one more time wont hurt?
You remembered why you left but one more time wont hurt right?
You remembered how hard it was to choose yourself, but you kept telling yourself that one more time wouldnt hurt...
“…Okay,” you said finally, steadying your voice. “Just take me home, only that.” you emphasized even if there was no need.
Both of you looked at eachother, there was no need for words, you both knew that wasnt going to happen.
Fuck, not again, you couldnt come back to his arms, you only lasted 4 months? You shouldnt come back again, the last time was one month after the break up where both of you were in a party and eventually fucked in the bathroom, after that neither of you acknowledged it.
But you couldnt help it, it was just like that, you guys came back to each other's path like two magnets that cant stay apart but cant quite stay together either..
He nodded once, like he understood exactly what that this situation meant, and what came next.
.
.
The car hummed low through the empty streets, the engine's steady rumble the only sound breaking the thick silence between you.
Megumi gripped the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles pale against the black leather, his jaw set tight as he stared straight ahead. Streetlights flickered across his profile, casting sharp shadows over the sharp line of his cheekbone, the faint stubble you'd once traced with your fingers.
You shifted in the passenger seat, thighs pressing together under your short party dress, the fabric riding up your skin sticky with the night's sweat and spilled drinks. Your head buzzed from the vodka shots Yuji had gave you, but it was the heat pooling low in your belly that made your pulse throb.
You kept thinking that has passed only four months since you'd last felt his hands on you, four since that frantic hookup in the party bathroom where neither of you had said a word after, you wondered if tonight was going to be the same..if you guys were going to see the stars, feel each other's skin to after act like nothing and talk no more.
Even if you missed how rough he touched you, you also missed his kind touch, the love that grew more each month with him, because if he was toxic he always made you be the best version of yourself in career terms and personal development.
Of course you missed his reassurance, every night telling you that everything was okey every time you had a nightmare or you felt that you were going to fail your exams.
Surly the uni was hard, you parents already warned you about it, that you had to choose wisely your friends and no partner, that you should only focus on yourself, and that partners were only distractions, but oh, he was so good, handsome mmmh maybe you could make an exception you said.
Maybe that was a mistake or maybe thats what was meant to be , sometimes people leave eachother's lives to after comeback stronger they say.
In the whole ride he didn't look at you, not even once. But you caught the way his throat worked when he swallowed, the subtle flex of his forearm as he downshifted at a red light.
The air in the car felt charged, heavy with the scent of his cologne which had a woodsy, sharp, mixed with the faint metallic tang of his keys dangling from the ignition. Your apartment wasn't far, but every block stretched out, the silence pressing in like a held breath.
You wanted to say something, anything, to crack the tension, but your mouth stayed dry, lips parted just enough to taste the lingering salt of bar nuts and the sweet burn of liquor.
Your nipples hardened against the thin lace of your bra, brushing the dress's lining with every shallow inhale, and you crossed your arms to hide it, but the motion only made your breasts ache more, a reminder of how he'd once pinned you down, possessive grip bruising your hips.
A car horn blared from behind, jolting you both. Megumi's foot twitched on the gas, accelerating through the green, but his eyes flicked to the rearview but then, finally, to you.
Just a glance, dark and unreadable, but it landed like a touch, heat flooding your core. You met it, heart slamming, the old pull twisting in your gut: the toxicity you'd fled, the way he'd text you at 2 a.m. demanding your location, the fights that ended in desperate, clawing sex.
God, you missed that edge, the way he owned you without asking. Your phone buzzed in your lap, Nobara probably checking in but you ignored it, fingers itching to reach across the console, to slide over his thigh where the denim of his sweatpants stretched taut over the muscle you'd mapped a hundred times.
He pulled up to your building too smoothly, tires whispering over the curb as he killed the engine. The sudden quiet amplified everything: the distant hum of the city, your ragged breathing, the wet heat slicking between your thighs.
Megumi didn't move to get out, just sat there, one hand dropping to his lap, fingers drumming once, twice, against his lap. You could see the outline of his cock, thickening already, straining the fabric. Your mouth watered, remembering the salty thickness of him on your tongue, the way he'd groan your name like a curse.
The tension coiled tighter, unspoken want hanging between you like smoke, scared to shatter it, but starving for the burn.
"Thanks for the ride," you murmured, voice husky from disuse, but you didn't reach for the door. Instead, you unbuckled slowly, the click loud in the stillness, and twisted toward him, dress hiking higher to expose the lace edge of your panties.
His gaze dropped there, lingering, pupils blowing wide. The car smelled like arousal now, musky and sharp, your own scent mingling with his.
He exhaled through his nose, sharp, controlled. "You gonna invite me up, or you going to keep staring at me like that?"
The words hit like a spark, low and rough, his possessiveness threading through despite the months apart. Your clit throbbed, needy, and you bit your lip hard enough to taste copper.
"Mmm alright come inside," you said, not a question, pushing the door open and stepping out on unsteady heels. Cool night air kissed your flushed skin, raising goosebumps, but the real shiver came from his footsteps behind you, heavy, deliberate, closing the distance without touching.
"Indeed I will be coming inside" he said almost murmuring to himself.
"What you said Megumi?" you looked back at him, unaware of his previous comment.
"Nothing" he replied with a smirk but you could swore that you heard him say something. You looked back at you front door.
You fumbled your keys at the door, breath hitching as his chest brushed your back, the heat of him seeping through your dress.
His hand steadied yours on the knob, calluses rough against your knuckles, and you felt his cock nudge your ass ,hard and insistent, through his sweatpants.
No words, just that pressure that was asking for more. The elevator ride was torture those mirrored walls reflecting your dilated eyes, his arm brushing yours, the confined space amplifying the salt of your skin, the faint leather of his belt. You punched the button for your floor, leaning against the wall, thighs clenching to ease the ache.
Your apartment door swung open to dim familiarity, to your couch, the half-dead plant on the windowsill, the faint vanilla from a forgotten candle. You kicked off your heels, toes curling into the cool hardwood, and turned to face him. Megumi stood in the threshold, filling the frame, eyes locked on you like prey. "Lock it," he whispered, stepping back, and you did, the deadbolt's snick echoing like a trigger.
He crossed the space in two strides, hands framing your face, thumbs rough along your jaw as his mouth crashed into yours. No hesitation, just raw hunger, lips bruising, tongue thrusting deep to claim the wet heat of your mouth.
You moaned into it, tasting whiskey on him, hands fisting his shirt to yank him closer, bodies colliding. His cock ground against your belly, thick and rigid, the friction sending sparks up your spine. You sucked on his tongue, desperate, nails digging into his shoulders as he backed you against the wall, the plaster cool against your spine while his chest burned hot.
"Fuck you, I've missed this," he growled against your lips, voice gravelly, one hand sliding down to slap your ass to then grip it, fingers kneading the flesh hard enough to sting. You arched into him, pussy clenching empty, the scent of your arousal thick in the air now, mixing with his sweat-slick skin.
His free hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat, teeth grazing the pulse there, sharp, possessive bite that made you gasp, thighs slick and trembling.
You hooked a leg around his hip, pulling him flush, rocking against the hard ridge of his cock. The trouser drawstrings rasped over your clit through your panties, soft texture dragging sparks of pleasure.
"Missed you," you admitted on a whine, hating the vulnerability but craving the way it made him groan, low and animal, his hips snapping forward once, twice, pinning you harder.
Tongues tangled again, sloppy and urgent, saliva slicking chins as hands roamed, yours shoving under his shirt to claw at abs carved from tension, his shoving your dress up to palm bare thigh, thumb circling inches from where you dripped for him.
He broke the kiss to nip your earlobe, breath hot and ragged. "You're soaked already, mmh, dont worry Im gonna ruin this pussy like I used to."
The words vibrated against your skin, like a promise and a threat, your body responding with a fresh gush of wetness, nipples peaking painfully.
You captured his mouth again needy, biting his lower lip, tasting the faint copper as he hissed, grinding harder, the tension of months exploding in every frantic press of flesh.
He pulled out to see and appreciate the view, he let out a small chuckle "so fucking needy huh?" he slapped your soft face and grabbed your throat "what huh? now you want me back?"
You could only keep staring at him, needy for his touch a bit embarrassed by the way he was talking to you.
"Stop...stop being so mean..." those were the only words you could let out while his grip was getting tighter around your throat.
"Ohhh poor baby? Cant breath, huh" he brushed you hair out of your face, looking closely at those features that he had been missing for months.
"But you missed me so fucking much you cant forget me, mmmh look at you, so fucking wet baby" he slipped two fingers around the hem of your panties making your body react at his touch.
At the sound of your helpless whimper gasping for air, your hands trying to pullout his from your throat and the way your eyes rolled back made his cock harder, twitching more around his pants.
He couldnt resist anymore and dragged you by your throat to your bathroom, you could say that he was your roommate by the many times he had stayed over when you guys where dating.
His favorite room to fuck was the bathroom, and no, it wasnt for the tub but for the mirror. That big ass mirror that was on top of the sink covering half of the wall, surrounded by led dim lights making the room more cozy and warm.
As he opened it and threw you into the big bathroom closing behind him the door, you crushed into the cold marble floor, instantly touching your throat trying to catch your breath.
You where already overwhelmed and tried to stand up but he quickly grabbed you by the hair "oh fuck no, get on your knees baby, you going to be a good girl for me, dont you think I mmmh deserve it after all that attitude of yours?"
You got on your knees, well he made you get on your knees, he carefully grabbed all your hair and made a ponytail holding it with his right hand while he shoved down his pants and finally freed his enormous dick.
His took his cock and slapped it on your face "look baby, he missed you,now fucking open your mouth".
You couldnt forget his cock, of course not but fuck you didnt remember it that veiny and long, did it grow? Fuck you needed him so bad you didnt even heard yourself whimpering.
"I know baby I know, but ima need you to do a good job okey? I need to clean your dirty mouth and make you remember who you belong to" his thumb brushed your mouth making you open in and he aggressively shoved it inside of you mouth making you gag.
"mmmh fuck yes fuck baby keep twirling your tongue like that" he was more turned on when he looked at the sight of you in the mirror sucking his dick, making him groan.
You kept playing your tongue on his dick, making circles on his tip, and eventually you grabbed his balls to stimulate him more
"mmh fuck baby, the fuck" his head was spinning and he couldnt anymore so he started to fuck your mouth, you were gagging, not even his whole dick was inside .
"fucking naughty girl, fuuuck yeah...mmrgh" he speed up his path making your eyes twich and roll all the way to the back of your head.
"look at yourself how you are taking it so well for me" he said to you pointing at the mirror.
You looked at yourself, on your knees dress showing half of your ass, and revealing your lace panties, your hands on his hip and your mouth wrapped on his dick while his veiny hand is grabbing your hair.
He used your mouth like nothing and you were so fucking wet your panties were all soaked imagining how would feel his dick inside of you again, how would make you moan and arch your back, how good you would feel if he filled you up.
When you closed your eyes because your brain was blank and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his big dick on your mouth, he grabbed your hair tighter.
"look at me while im fucking your pretty mouth" he demanded looking down at you.
You looked up at him, you almost couldnt even hold his gaze, you felt your pussy twich and getting even more wet, his other hand caressed your pretty face as he fucked your mouth.
"I cant wait to rip that dress of you, mmhgh fuck, yeah hold on im...fuck..yeah im close" he moaned and shoved his dick deeper and made his thrusts more faster.
"be a ..fuck.. mmmhrg a good girl mmrgh" the room was filled with your mouth gagging, and his moans you could feel him getting closer.
"im goona fucking cum.." he groaned before his juices filled your whole mouth making swallow it all.
He groaned and pulled out, dick still twiching in front of your face.
"fuck you got better, did you fucked someone else?" he said looking at you while he kneeled in front of you.
You couldnt even talk, your mouth hurt from all that so you just shacked your head in denial, still trying to hold his intense gaze.
"fucking liar" he slapped your face and grabbed it holding it still "dont fucking lie to me baby..I wont be mad okey?" he caressed your cheeks and left a soft kiss on the mark of his hand on your face.
Fuck you were sobbing from all, he didnt even let you breath, you missed him so much, so fucking much, you couldnt lie to him..
He kept leaving soft kisses all around your face while you were sobbing "its okey baby, you can tell me" he said as he kept caressing your body and eventually he grabbed you by his arms in bridal style and took you to bed.
He sat down in the edge of the bed and he put you on his lap, making you face him.
"dont cry baby, why are you crying?" his rough hands whipped out your tears and kissed your lips, this time softly and the kiss kept going till you calmed down and he pulled out, looking at you.
"who was it baby?" his soft voice, that soft look he as giving to you made you think for a moment that answering the question was a good idea.
"Gojo..." you said almost whispering "baby im so sorry..i-" he didnt let you finish your apology sentence.
"its okey baby" he was tracing soft circles around your exposed back.
"you are not mad?" you answer him in geniune surprise and lifting an eyewbrow.
He let out a soft chuckle and smirked at you "ohh nooo darling, yes im fucking mad, but that’s okey because Im going to remind you who owns this body".
Before you could even analyse what those words meant he was already throwing you in the bed and literally ripping off you small dress.
He took off his shirt revealing his marked and sexy abs and pinned you down with one hand while admiring the view.
His eyes traced all your body, like he was trying to memorise everything again, seeing your lace panties and your bra pushing up your tits and he took it off, leaning and kissing your hard nipples.
Your panties were already soaked from before so you closed your legs from the embarrassment but he slowly traced his fingers from your face all the way down to your pussy.
“No need to be shy baby” he smirked while he teased your clothed pussy with his fingers, playing with your clit and making you moan his name.
“Ooh your so fucking sensitive, fuck” he loved hearing you moan and more when is his name.
“If you behave I’m going to reward you beauty” he said as he took off your panties travelling your soaked pussy.
“Mmhg fuck I missed her so much” he leaned into your cunt leaving soft kisses and making you whimper.
“M-megumi aghhh..” he was licking your entrance, slowly bringing the hand that’s was pinning you down to your thighs.
He spread your legs wide enough to make you shiver at the feeling of the air brushing your cunt, you swore you could hear him laugh but it was so subtle that you couldn’t even be sure.
Your hands gripped the sheets as he played with your pussy with his fingers, sliding them up and down slowly and then shoving them inside making you squirm.
“Mmgh arghh Megumi” you moaned as he started to play with your pussy looking for your g spot.
“Fuck your so fucking tight, I don’t know if you could take my dick” he said looking down at you as he speed up his fingers finally reaching your g spot.
“Y-yes I can” you moaned, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open.
“Mmh you sure?” He leaned to kiss your tits and suck them as he fucked you with his two fingers.
You could only nod and keep moaning, it felt so good, you never knew that he could be so fucking good with his fingers.
Not even when you touched yourself you could make yourself feel this good like he was making you..
“Mmmh that’s my girl, keep going for me” his lips licked your nipples and left hickeys on your tits.
You were reaching your high, his mouth on your breasts and his fingers in your pussy, you were overwhelmed by all the pleasure that he was giving you.
It felt that more than a punishment for fucking Gojo it was like a reward for coming back to him. Nevertheless you were thankful by it, you loved how he was touching you and making you feel, you loved his dark possessiveness deep down you were as mad crazy as him.
“I-Im going fuck- babe im coming mmmhhh” you whimpered, juices already leaking from you cunt and soaking his hand.
His dick was twitching begging to fuck you, but he needed to wait, even though it was painful.
“Yes fuck keep going, you doing amazing” he fingered you faster while you came.
You arched your back as you finally reached the end of you high leaving the sheets wet aswell as his hand, you looked at him who was already smirking at you.
“That’s my good girl” your legs were shaking ant twitching, his fingers still moving inside of you making you feel floored.
All this feeling you thought you were going to pass away for a moment, not thinking that you were going to be able to handle it.
He pulled out and sucked his own fingers while looking at you “Mmh fuck this taste mmh”
And when you thought it was over, he gave you a soft kiss on your lips before getting down.
He faced your pussy and gave it a long slow lick, his hands gripped your shaky legs and pulled them apart, opening wide enough to make his way down entirely.
You gasped at the felling of his tongue shoving inside of you, sucking and licking all the remain juices left from your previous high.
“Mmmh fuck- you taste amazing” he literally fucked you with his tongue putting in and out, twirling it inside and rubbing your clit with his fingers.
His dick was already leaking precum only by hearing your moans and seeing the way your body reacted to every touch he gave you.
You didn’t last much before you came on his mouth, your pussy was so sensitive, and more when he was the one touching it.
He gladly licked the remain of your cum and looked up at you letting out a chuckle “fuck didn’t even last darling.”
If your legs were shaking before now they were shuddering forcing him to grip tighter to make them stay still.
You let out a shaky sigh at the view, you looked so vulnerable and fucked, literally, like you couldn’t handle anymore, but oh poor darling he hasn’t finished with you yet.
He slowly kissed you from you tights all the way up to your mouth, he crashed his tongue with yours as his hands played with your nipples.
His dick was slapping against your cunt, making you twitch.
“Shhh it’s okey, now ima reward you okey? You did such a good job” he turned you over, pressing mat, face on the pillow.
He slowly grabbed his painful hard cock and without previous warning shoved it into your pussy, giving you a back shot.
Taking into account that you were almost going to pass away before, this was feeling like you was seeing angels coming for you.
“Fuck still tight, mhhhg” he claimed as he stretched out your pussy.
His thrusts were fast from the beginning making you literally cry your eyes out and beg him to be more gentle.
You head turned to a side so you could breathe, he grabbed your hands from behind and leaned down a bit to kiss your back.
How could you dare you, after fucking Gojo? Megumi gentle? Nah, not even in your best dreams.
“Pl-please arghhhh” you cried out, tears from joy and prostration.
“Should- have- thought- it- before- fucking- Gojo arghhh” each word came with a harder thrust.
The room filled with the sound of your ass hitting his thighs, his dick fucking your pussy and your moans crying.
“Im- aghhhh sorry megumi” you moaned faced soaked from tears as he kept fucking you harder.
“I- fuck I know you are babe” he was reaching his high, you walls surrounding his cock making him feel a pleasure that he hadn’t felt ever.
“Im close-“ he groaned leaving your hands and gripping your hips to jo you better.
You tits we’re bouncing that hard that was echoing the room, if it wasn’t for the strength the was grabbing you, you would have already fall.
“Mmghh yes-yes arghhh me too” you screamed as you came before his dick fuller you with his sticky warm juice.
Both of you were exhausted, your pussy couldn’t anymore and it was so intense the bed was soaked with his semen too, which was leaking still from your pussy.
.
.
You were laying down in the bed in his arms, wish were wrapping all your nude body, you respiration was still shaking but his touch was more tender and soft, his kisses were more slow and gentle.
“Ahh you okey?” He murmured in your hear as he pulled out the hair out of your face.
You weren’t able to answer after all that so you just looked at him and slowly nod.
He smiled and kissed your lips one last time before embracing you into a hug that felt so warm, like home.
“Don’t you ever dare to leave me okey? Your mine” his soft voice made it sound better.
He looked at your body, all those marks that had left on you, your throat, your tits, your thighs and your face, he was quite proud of his job by marking you.
He tugged both of you with a clean sheet and hugged you from behind, caressing your fragile body as you both fall asleep, exhausted from all that intensely that was suppressed within these 4 last months.
And at the end if the day one last time didn’t hurt that much right?
.
.
.
.
.
OMGGGG GUYS I hope you enjoyed it fr, I know my baby Megumi would never be like this but kids be just like their dada they say.
Im actually impressed that I’ve wrote this anyways 😭😭😭
synopsis: your stoner best friend choso and you are deeeep in sexual tension, you are his girl, but not really his girl. cuddling, forehead kisses, being glued to eachothers hip, it eventually simmers down until neither of you can take it anymore. (my favourite work i've done so far)
content warning: smut, p in v, angst (not really), fluff, comfort.)
wc: 16k || art creds: @/einrvji
choso kamo is the kind of boy people notice without realizing they’re staring. he’s not loud, never one to demand a room’s attention, but something about him pulls you in, the lazy grace of someone who’s always just a little bit stoned and completely at peace with himself.
he throws the best parties on campus, the kind that aren’t just about getting drunk or high, but about the vibe. incense burning in the corner, led lights set to red or purple, trap playing softly over speakers. and yet, you’re the only one who really knows him.
you, the sweet girl who never misses a single one of his parties. the one always curled up next to him on the couch with a red solo cup of something you can barely taste, your legs draped over his lap, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. it’s always been like this. ever since freshman year, when you met him during that stupid icebreaker event on campus that neither of you wanted to go to.
somehow, you’d ended up next to him. not even talking at first. just being. and then he’d pulled one earbud out and offered it to you without saying anything, and you’d heard frank ocean’s “ivy” playing soft and crackly from his phone. you’d smiled at him, and he’d smiled back. just a little.
after that, it was like something clicked. you didn’t have to try with choso. you just existed in each other’s space like you were meant to.
you’re sweet, outgoing, a little flirty, always the first one to compliment someone’s outfit or remember their birthday. people love you for your light, your laughter, the way you make everyone feel seen.
but when it comes to closeness, to real comfort? that’s reserved for choso.
it’s a mystery to most people. you, the glittering, glowing party girl, and choso, the stoner boy who doesn’t even have social media. but it makes perfect sense to anyone who’s seen the two of you together.
you show up to his parties before anyone else does. you help him string the lights, pick the playlist, bring snacks no one asked for but everyone eats. you’re the one sitting on the counter while he rolls, sipping from a straw and babbling about your week while he nods, smiling faintly, muttering things like “that’s wild, ma,” or “yo, you’re too nice for them.”
and during the parties, you’re never far. you gravitate toward each other like magnets, slipping into place the way you always do. choso’s usually on the couch, arms stretched over the backrest, and you’re tucked under his arm without even thinking. you lean into him when you laugh. he rests his chin on your shoulder. he passes you drinks and you take tiny sips before handing them back to him with a wrinkle of your nose.
and it’s so easy. dangerously easy.
choso’s never been one to push. he’s got feelings, real ones, deeper than he’ll ever admit out loud, but he keeps them buried. not because he doesn’t want you. he wants you in a way that scares him sometimes. in quiet moments, when he’s too high and you’re asleep on his chest, he thinks about what it would feel like to kiss you. to be yours for real. but he’s content, at least for now. content to have you like this.
you give choso a kind of peace he didn’t know he was missing. before you, things were kind of blurry. background noise. but with you, it’s all color. you laugh and the whole room tilts toward you. you touch his hand and it’s like static electricity under his skin. he pretends he doesn’t notice. he jokes, he teases, he lets it pass.
because he thinks he’d rather have you like this, close and real and warm, than risk losing you completely.
and you? you love him. maybe too much.
you’ve never said it out loud, not even to maki or shoko, but you know it. you feel it every time you see him laugh at something you said, every time he lifts your chin to tuck your hair behind your ear, every time he waits for you outside class just because he felt like it. choso is yours, in a way no one else is. and you don’t know what to do with that.
maybe you’re scared to ruin it too.
it’s not just the friendship, it’s the rhythm. the quiet glances, the shared playlists, the way you always, always end up in his bed after parties, clothes still on, hearts too full.
you’ll lay there in the dark, both of you wide awake, and you’ll wonder if he feels it too. if he notices the way your breath hitches when his fingers brush your waist. if he hears the way your voice gets softer when you say his name.
but neither of you ever says anything. not really. not yet.
there’s something unsaid between you, always has been, something glowing and soft and maybe a little fragile. like the chords of “ivy” hanging in the air, too tender to touch. it’s in the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. in the way you linger at his door after a party, lip gloss smudged and heart aching. in the way he lets his hand rest on the small of your back just a little too long.
it’s a love that’s still blooming. hesitant. deep-rooted. and for now, maybe that’s enough.
maybe not forever.
~
the party’s already full by the time you get there, but you know exactly where to find him.
bass thumps through the floor like a second pulse, red lights spilling down the hallway, laughter echoing from the kitchen where someone’s poured jungle juice into a mixing bowl. bodies press close in the living room, the air thick with smoke, perfume, sweat, but none of it touches you. not really. not when you know where you’re going.
you slip past people who call your name, who compliment your outfit, who try to keep you still, but you’re already moving, already smiling like you’ve got a secret. because you do.
he’s on the couch. he always is.
slouched like he was poured there, long legs spread, a blunt pinched between his fingers. there’s a few people around him, suguru’s sitting on the floor, half-asleep against his knee, gojo’s perched on the armrest talking to some girl, but he doesn’t really look at anyone. just stares at the smoke curling above him, the red light making shadows under his eyes.
until he sees you.
choso’s head tilts slightly. his gaze sharpens, just barely. his mouth softens, corners curling up into something small, lazy, private.
“yo,” he says, voice low and smooth like honeyed smoke. “there you are.”
and just like that, you’re home.
you drop down next to him without a word, tucking your legs up on the couch, leaning into his side like you were made to fit there. his arm lifts automatically to rest behind you, and your bare shoulder brushes against his chest, skin to skin. he smells like weed and citrus and something warm, like sunbaked cotton. familiar. dangerous.
“i brought you chips,” you say, holding up a bag. “because you never remember to feed people when you throw these things.”
he laughs, soft and breathy, and takes the bag, tossing it onto the table without looking.
“you’re the only one who eats at my parties,” he murmurs, dragging the blunt to his lips. “they’re lucky you show up.”
he inhales, slow and deep. lets it sit in his chest for a moment. then he turns his head toward you and exhales, deliberately, slow, a trail of smoke that ghosts over your collarbone. it’s not on purpose, but it is. everything choso does is like that. unbothered. intimate. effortless.
your heart stutters.
“you look good,” he adds, like it just occurred to him. his eyes dip, trace your legs, the cut of your dress, the gloss on your lips. “real good.”
you smile, sweet and slow, like you’re soaking it in.
“you’re stoned.”
he shrugs. “yeah. still true, though.”
you nudge his thigh with your knee, and he smirks that lazy, barely-there grin that never quite reaches his eyes unless it’s you.
the party swells around you. bodies dance in the center of the room, the music gets louder, someone’s yelling in the kitchen about the beer pong table. but in your little corner of the couch, everything is slowed down. hazy. sacred.
he keeps passing the blunt, and you keep refusing with that little scrunch of your nose he always teases you about.
“don’t know how you come to my house every week and still don’t smoke,” he says, flicking ash into a red solo cup.
“don’t know how you survive without eating dinner like an adult,” you shoot back.
he chuckles, tipping his head back. his throat stretches long, his hoodie slipping off one shoulder to reveal the black ink of a tattoo just under his collarbone. you don’t even pretend not to look. choso doesn’t pretend not to notice.
“you missed me?” he asks after a beat, quieter now. the smoke’s made him slow, softer around the edges. more honest.
you glance up at him, lips parted. “i was here last weekend.”
“yeah, and then the whole week happened.” he shrugs, lazily. “i got bored.”
you nudge your way closer. your knee slides between his. “you say that like you don’t have other friends.”
he hums. “don’t hit the same.”
you’re both quiet for a second. it’s a thick, heady silence, not awkward, not tense. just full. full of everything that’s been building since freshman year. everything you don’t say. everything you both feel in moments like this, when you’re a little too close and he’s looking at your mouth and his hand is resting just a little too low on your waist.
you want to kiss him. god, you do. but not yet. not here.
so instead you lean forward, just enough to rest your head on his shoulder. you feel him go still for a second, then relax, melting back into you.
you stay like that. for a long time
later, when the house gets louder and hotter and someone pulls you up to dance, you feel his eyes on you.
you’re not a wild dancer, you move like you’re in your own little world, fluid and soft and smiling. some guy tries to grind up behind you and you immediately peel away, laughing as you shake your head. but when you look over, just once, you see choso watching from the couch.
his eyes are darker now. still lazy, still half-lidded, but focused. pinned on you like he’s memorizing the way your dress moves, the way your hair sticks to the sweat on your collarbone. one hand resting on his knee. the blunt long gone.
you move back to him eventually, of course you do, and he opens the space beside him again like he knew you would.
“have fun out there, superstar?” he asks, gaze flicking over you.
you shrug, settling back into him. “missed my favorite dance partner.”
he raises a brow. “you don’t dance with me.”
you grin. “exactly.”
he snorts, shaking his head. you rest your hand on his thigh, fingers splayed over ripped denim, and he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t move. just lets you stay there. touching him. like you always do.
like you always will.
when the party starts dying down and the lights dim even lower, when suguru’s asleep and gojo’s disappeared and the couch is just the two of you again, you curl into him like you belong there.
he yawns, one arm around your shoulders, hand playing lazily with the strap of your dress.
“you crashing here?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
you nod, cheek pressed to his chest. “if that’s cool.”
he makes a soft sound, something between a hum and a laugh, and dips his chin to brush his mouth against your temple. not a kiss, exactly. just a press. warm, soft. barely there.
“always.”
you smile, closing your eyes for a second. his hand is still resting on your waist, fingers tracing absent little shapes into your skin like he’s not even thinking about it.
you could fall asleep like this. you’ve done it before.
but he shifts a little, murmurs, “come on, ma. let’s get off this fuckin’ couch. my back’s killin’ me.”
you whine quietly as he moves, and he laughs again, a lazy rumble in his chest and slides an arm around your waist to help you up.
“drama queen,” he says, tugging you to your feet with effortless strength.
he doesn’t let go.
you move through the sea of red cups and leftover smoke, past the people half-passed out in the hallway, with his hand still slung around your waist. like it’s normal. like it’s instinct. your arm hooks around his middle, and you lean into his side as you walk, slow and steady, like you’ve done this a hundred times. because you have.
choso’s room is down the hall. it’s the only one with a broken doorknob and a blacklight taped above the bed, buzzing faintly. it smells like weed and clean laundry and him.
you kick off your shoes the second you walk in and collapse face-first into the unmade bed, limbs spread.
he laughs, low and indulgent, then flops down beside you.
“yo, scoot over,” he mumbles, nudgin your hip with his.
“you scoot,” you shoot back, voice muffled by the blanket.
he doesn’t argue. just lets his body melt sideways until your shoulders touch again. you shift your head onto his chest without thinking, cheek to the soft fabric of his hoodie.
and there it is again. home.
“this party was kinda ass,” you say.
“nah,” he says softly. “you were here.”
your stomach flips.
but you don’t say anything. don’t need to. you just lie there, breathing in sync, your hands curled in the hem of his hoodie while his fingers play with your hair, slow, lazy twirls that make your eyelids flutter.
“remember the first one?” you ask, voice hushed now. “the freshman-year party where we met?”
choso smiles at the ceiling. “fuck yeah. you were wearing that little white dress and yellin’ at some guy who spilled beer on your shoes.”
“he ruined them,” you murmur indignantly.
“and i was just sittin’ on the porch, watchin’ the whole thing,” he grins. “high as shit. thought you were hot as hell.”
you lift your head to look at him, one brow raised. “you still say you don’t remember how we ended up talking.”
“i don’t. swear to god.” he shrugs. “one second i’m finishing a blunt, next thing i know you’re sitting next to me like you’d been there forever.”
“i probably just decided you looked safe,” you say, settling back down. “and hot. but, like, quiet hot.”
he chuckles, slow and low. “quiet hot?”
you nod. “like… hot in a way that doesn’t try. like you didn’t even know it.”
“damn,” he mutters. “flirting with me now?”
“always.”
his hand slides down from your hair to your shoulder, warm and broad and steady.
“that’s why i fuck with you,” he says after a moment. “you’re real.”
you blink.
“like, people show up to my parties for the vibes or whatever. you show up to make sure i eat dinner.”
you laugh. “well someone has to.”
“nah, but for real,” he says. “you’ve been showin’ up since day one. always got my back. always know what i need before i even do. shit’s crazy.”
your throat goes tight. but he doesn’t sound emotional. he sounds calm. sure. like it’s just a fact of life, gravity, weed, you.
he doesn’t say it like it’s a confession.
he says it like it’s just the truth.
“you do the same for me,” you murmur, voice small.
his thumb strokes your arm, slow.
“yeah,” he says. “i know.”
the room hums with silence after that. not heavy. not awkward. just real.
he lets you lie there on his chest, the beat of his heart under your ear, the rise and fall of his breathing making you feel safe in a way nothing else does.
you shift after a few minutes, and his hand moves automatically , tugs the blanket up over you both, settles you closer, fingers smoothing over your arm like it’s second nature.
he doesn’t flirt with anyone the way he does with you. doesn’t touch anyone like this. people know you’re close, but they don’t get it.
they don’t know how choso listens to you rant for hours about your classes even when he’s half-asleep. how he always keeps snacks in his room he doesn’t like, just because you do. how he’s seen you cry at 3am and didn’t say a word, just pulled you onto his chest and played with your hair until you calmed down.
how you’ve cleaned up after every party. how you always know when he needs water. how you never smoke but you always light his blunts for him.
they don’t know that you’ve been doing this, just like this, since freshman year.
you’re not together.
but this? this is something else.
“you good?” he mumbles, his voice starting to get gravelly with sleep.
you nod, curled into his side.
“you?”
“mhmm.” he exhales through his nose, deep and slow. “don’t leave before i wake up.”
“i never do.”
he hums, already drifting.
you close your eyes.
"night, cho."
"night, babe."
and in the dark, in his bed, wrapped in the quiet warmth of choso’s heartbeat and the hush of something unspoken between you, you fall asleep.
right where you’re supposed to be.
~
the sun’s too fucking bright.
choso’s got his hood pulled low, hands stuffed in the front pocket of his faded sweatshirt, hoodie sleeves bunched at his wrists like armor against the cold. his airpods are in, but he’s not playing anything. just using them to avoid eye contact. to avoid people.
his chem lecture starts in twelve minutes. he’s not rushing.
he’s never rushing.
the quad’s half-full with undergrads moving in packs, laughing too loud for this hour. he weaves through them like a shadow, dark-eyed and slow-moving, sleep still clinging to his bones.
he hasn’t showered. hasn’t brushed his hair. smells faintly like weed and sleep and your lotion, the floral kind you always keep in your bag.
he’s halfway across the quad when he hears it.
“yo.”
he looks up.
toji.
posted up on a low wall near the main staircase, nursing a large iced coffee and wearing the same zip-up he’s worn every morning since choso met him. he looks good, like he always does, jaw sharp, eyes tired, posture loose in that older-guy way that makes people think twice about messing with him.
choso pulls out one airpod. “yo.”
“you look like shit,” toji says, amused.
choso shrugs. “feel fine.”
“late night?”
“always.”
toji grins. “bet.”
choso wanders over, boots crunching gravel, and leans against the wall next to him. toji’s got that lazy menace vibe, like he could break someone’s nose or fall asleep in the sun, it could go either way. choso respects it.
they’re not close, but they’re good.
“you throw last night?” toji asks.
“yeah. packed out.”
“heard. saw some dude getting dragged out by the neck around one.”
choso huffs a little. “sukuna. again.”
“no shit?” toji laughs. “that guy’s a walking lawsuit.”
“got blood on my stairs,” choso mutters. “ruined the rug.”
“tragic.”
they’re quiet for a second. choso watches a squirrel dart across the walkway. toji sips his coffee.
“how much you make off the door?”
“couple hundred. enough for groceries. gas. weed.”
toji nods like that’s the natural order of things. “you ever think about pledging?”
choso snorts. “nah.”
“you’d run that shit,” toji says. “turn those little rich boys inside out.”
“i’m not good with rules.”
“fuck rules.”
choso grins a little. “you sound like yuki.”
“i taught yuki,” toji says, deadpan.
that gets a real laugh out of choso, low and amused, breath curling in the cold air.
“you got chem?” toji asks after a moment.
“yeah. lab.”
“tough.”
“i'm so fucking hungover.”
toji smirks. “so. last night. you go home alone?”
choso shrugs. “nah. crashed with her.”
toji looks at him. not surprised. not shocked. just curious.
“y/n?”
“yeah.”
a beat.
“you guys together now or what?”
choso looks up, brows drawn. “nah.”
toji raises an eyebrow. “huh. figured that would’ve happened by now.”
“why?”
“you’re always with her.”
“yeah.”
“you sleep in the same bed?”
choso shrugs again, easy and lowkey like it doesn’t mean anything. like it’s normal. “all the time.”
toji whistles under his breath, grinning. “you’re a better man than me.”
“not like that,” choso mutters, looking away.
“right,” toji says, smirking. “not like that.”
choso stays quiet. doesn’t explain. doesn’t elaborate. he just lets it sit in the air between them like secondhand smoke, warm, familiar, a little dangerous.
because it isn’t like that.
not yet.
but toji doesn’t push. just nods, takes another slow sip of his coffee, and claps choso on the shoulder with a rough hand.
“you’re cool,” he says. “but if you ever fuck that up, someone else won’t be.”
choso just exhales through his nose. shrugs.
he knows,
he knows.
~
choso slouches in his stool at station 4B, safety goggles pushed up into his messy hair, long fingers lazily rotating a test tube over the bunsen flame. he’s supposed to be running a titration, but he’s running on three hours of sleep and an edible that hasn’t stopped hitting since breakfast.
there’s a small chemical fire happening at the next table over. he doesn’t care.
his partner, some girl from his gen chem section who only speaks in whispers and perfume, scribbles answers onto their worksheet like her life depends on it. she’s never once asked him to help. choso’s fine with that.
his phone buzzes in his hoodie pocket. he pulls it out without looking, thumb unlocking the screen by feel. it’s instinct. the way he always knows when it’s you.
[10:37am] you: what class r u in rn
[10:38am] choso: chem
[10:38am] you: ew
[10:38am] choso: yea
[10:39am] you: wanna meet up after?? i’m bored
[10:39am] choso: wya
the response comes fast.
[10:40am] you: bleachers behind the field. bring snacks or i’ll cry.
choso smiles.
it’s the kind of smile he never shows anyone but you. lazy. lowkey. like a secret he doesn’t need to say out loud.
he texts back a thumbs up emoji. tucks his phone away. watches the blue flame flicker under the test tube like it’s trying to tell him something.
~
the bleachers behind the athletic field are barely standing. rusted metal, cracked paint, half the steps warped from years of cleat-stomped abuse. it’s one of the only spots on campus that still feels untouched, still feels yours. people don’t hang out here. it’s too open, too weird, too quiet.
perfect.
you’re already there when he shows up, sprawled across the middle row like it’s a chaise lounge, sunglasses perched low on your nose and a bag of kettle chips open in your lap.
you perk up when you see him. smile wide and lazy. “you brought me snacks?”
he lifts a 7/11 bag in greeting.
“you’re an angel,” you say, and you sound like you mean it. choso climbs up beside you, drops the bag between you, and sits with a long sigh like the weight of the whole morning finally got the memo that it can fuck off.
he lets himself lean back on his elbows, head tipped toward the sky. hoodie sleeves pushed up to the elbow. hands ringed in silver, knuckles faintly bruised from last night. jaw sharp, neck tattoo peeking just above his collar.
you glance over at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth for a second too long.
he doesn’t notice.
or maybe he does.
but he doesn’t say anything.
“what happened in chem?” you ask, voice slow with sunlight.
“almost set the bench on fire,” he says. “again."
you laugh, and it’s the good kind, low and warm and familiar, like something soft you wrap yourself in. “you’re gonna fail.”
“nah,” he murmurs. “i got you. you’ll cry to shoko for me.”
you shrug. “probably.”
he grins.
you eat chips together for a while in comfortable silence. people jog past on the track below, but it’s like the two of you exist in another timeline, quieter, slower, deeper. every time your shoulders bump, he doesn’t move away. every time your fingers brush in the snack bag, he lets it linger.
you pull out a cherry lollipop from your tote. unwrap it with delicate, distracted fingers. stick it between your lips and suck thoughtfully.
choso looks over. blinks once.
his throat bobs. “you eat candy like you’re in a music video.”
“duh,” you say. “gotta stay on brand.”
“your brand is slutty candy princess?”
you flash him a wink. “you know it.”
he groans into his hands. “you’re gonna kill me.”
“you’d like it.”
“maybe.”
you both laugh.
but underneath it, there’s a tension you don’t touch. not yet. not today. not when the sun is this warm and the wind is this soft and the space between you feels like a bubble no one else can pop.
“so what’d you tell toji?” you ask suddenly, pulling your legs up under you. “he asked about us, right?”
choso blinks. shifts.
“how’d you know that?”
“i just saw him talking to you this morning and you rushed of before i could catch up.”
he sighs. rubs a hand over his face. “just asked about some dumb shit, was surprised we aren't fucking.”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah.”
you hum. “what’d you say?”
he shrugs. “told him we’re just friends.”
you nod.
but your fingers are tight around your lollipop stick. “did he buy it?”
choso looks over at you. eyes half-lidded, lazy. “dunno. didn’t really care.”
you don’t speak for a second.
then—
“you know,” you say lightly, “if we were dating, people wouldn’t question it.”
he raises a brow. “you wanna date me?”
you laugh like it’s a joke. like the idea’s crazy. “obviously not. i’d ruin your whole vibe.”
“nah,” he says, quiet and cool. “you are my vibe.”
it knocks the air out of you a little.
you don’t reply.
he doesn’t push.
instead, he pulls a lighter from his pocket. a faded red bic with a sticker of a cartoon frog on the side.
“you mind?” he asks.
you shake your head. “go for it.”
he lights the joint behind the bleachers, careful to block the wind, and takes a slow hit like he’s been doing it his whole life. like breathing.
you watch the way his lips part. the way the smoke curls from his mouth. the way he blinks up at the sky, exhaling slow, like there’s nothing in the world that could ruin this moment.
he passes it to you.
you hold it between two fingers. bring it to your lips, but don’t inhale. you just like the closeness. the ritual. the rhythm of it.
“you always smell like weed and coconuts,” you say absently.
“you always smell like sleep and candy.”
“that a compliment?”
“you know it is.”
you smile.
and then, like always, you shift until your head is in his lap, knees bent, lollipop back between your lips.
he threads his fingers into your hair like it’s automatic. like muscle memory.
you don’t say anything.
you don’t have to.
“there’s a party saturday,” choso says, like it’s just a passing thought. his voice is mellow, dragged slow with smoke and sun.
you squint up at him from his lap, one leg kicking idly off the edge of the bleachers. “yours?”
he shakes his head, dragging another pull from the joint before it sizzles low. “nah. kappa’s.”
“toji’s place?”
“mhm. sukuna’s throwin’ it.”
you make a face. “ew.”
he laughs, lazy and low. “yeah, i know.”
“what kinda party is it?”
he shrugs, flicking ash off to the side. “dunno. probly loud. messy. overrun with freshmen.”
“my favorite,” you say sarcastically.
“come anyway.”
you raise a brow. “you want me to go?”
he nods, eyes still soft from the joint. “yeah. all our people are gonna be there. gojo’s bringing that speaker he stole from the rec center. suguru’s bringing weed from the plug that scares everyone but him. shoko said she’s pre-gaming at yours.”
“she didn’t tell me that,” you mutter, amused.
“she said quote, ‘i’m getting blackout on your floor so you better have mixers.’”
“classic.”
“maki’s going too,” he adds. “and yuuji. megumi. nobara. y’all can take over the kitchen or whatever.”
you snort. “we always end up doing that. turning some random frat kitchen into our private lounge.”
“better lighting.”
“less vomit.”
he taps his knuckle to your forehead. “so?”
you blink at him. “so what?”
“you comin’?”
you stretch your arms over your head, lollipop tucked in your cheek like a secret. “mmm, depends. who’s walking me home if i black out?”
he gives you a look. “me."
“who’s holding my hair if i puke?”
“me.”
“who’s dancing with me when they put on early 2000s throwbacks?”
he smirks. “you already know.”
you grin and nuzzle into his thigh dramatically. “ugh, fine. i guess i’ll go.”
“what an honor.”
“you’re welcome.”
you stare up at him for a second, at the sharp angle of his jaw, the lashes curled against his cheeks, the faint bruises of exhaustion under his eyes.
there’s something warm in your chest.
like always.
“what time’s it at?” you ask.
“late.”
“when are we getting there?”
“later.”
you smile. “as always.”
“as always,” he echoes.
you reach over, fingers brushing the side of his hoodie pocket where his lighter peeks out, red and fading, sticker peeling at the edges.
he doesn’t notice.
but you do.
you always do.
~
the sun has long since set when you’re back in your dorm.
shoko’s stuff is already half-scattered across your bed, a tote bag overflowing with lip gloss and tequila, her ripped denim skirt folded beside your pillow like it lives here. your bluetooth speaker is charging in the corner. your fairy lights are glowing dim, and the whole room smells like something between vanilla lotion and sharpie markers.
because you’re painting.
your desk is a mess of scattered brushes, scratched acrylics, and an empty matcha can you’ve been using as a water cup. right in the center sits the new bic lighter you picked up after social, jet black, perfectly smooth, untouched.
you’re painting red spider lilies across the front, his favourite.
the petals curl across the plastic like veins, wet with gloss and attention. you’re careful with the details. you’ve looked up references. you’ve done this before.
but this time’s different.
this one’s for him.
you don’t know why, exactly. maybe it’s because his old one’s going dead.
maybe it’s because you love him.
not like that.
not yet.
but in the way you know exactly how he likes his ramen. in the way he texts you “home?” when it’s late and doesn’t sleep until you answer. in the way he rolls his blunts left-handed and always lights yours first. in the way he remembers your mom’s birthday even though he’s never met her.
in the way he makes you feel safe in a room full of noise.
in the way he never tries to make you anything other than yourself.
you lean over the lighter, the brush held steady between your fingers, and add the final line of gold detailing around the petals. your breath fogs the surface. you wait for it to dry.
outside, someone blasts a bad edm remix. the party’s already pulsing down the block.
you aren’t ready yet.
but you will be.
because he asked.
because you always go when he asks.
by the time you and shoko step into the kappa house, it’s already hell in there.
there’s music vibrating the walls, some mashup of jersey club and distorted britney spears, smoke curling from doorways, the reek of beer and weed and something you hope is a vape cloud drifting from the stairs. someone’s already swinging a half-finished bottle of patrón in the foyer, and a guy in a spiked collar is passed out half-naked on the pool table. red LEDs paint the room like a warning.
“jesus,” shoko mutters, pushing through a knot of people. “it’s worse than last time.”
“that’s saying a lot,” you reply, laughing.
you pass a makeshift tattoo station set up in the kitchen, a foldable table, three guys with gloves and prison-grade guns, girls taking shots with their shirts off, someone yelling about cross-contamination. someone else is already screaming into a paper towel, gripping their friend’s thigh as ink bleeds into skin.
“how much you wanna bet that guy’s not even licensed?” shoko asks, pointing with her cup.
a few feet away, a couple is practically devouring each other on the couch, hands in places that definitely shouldn’t be public, their moans barely muffled over the bassline. you and shoko share a glance.
“ten bucks says they’ll be upstairs in five,” she says.
“two,” you shoot back.
you find the rest of your girls near the island, maki’s drinking straight from a bottle of dark rum, nobara’s yelling at some guy for calling her “sweetheart,” and miwa looks like she’s trying to spiritually leave her body.
“there you bitches are,” nobara says, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “i was gonna beat some freshman’s ass for trying to say you weren’t on the guest list.”
“i just got here!” you laugh, letting shoko pull you in tighter. “i haven’t even taken my jacket off!"
“well hurry up,” nobara insists, pouring something violently pink into a solo cup and handing it to you. “this night’s cursed already.”
you take a cautious sip, bubblegum and battery acid. “what the hell is this?”
“it’s called the thong dropper,” shoko says helpfully.
“girl.”
you let the chaos swirl around you for a bit, settling into the rhythm of things, catching up on nonsense, swapping wild stories, dodging spilled drinks and clumsy hands. nobara starts talking about some guy she hooked up with last week, rolling her eyes and groaning dramatically.
“his stroke game was so weak,” she says, slamming her cup down. “he kept asking me ‘is that good?’ like, cmon. do you not hear me faking it?”
maki snorts. “you faked it?”
“of course i did. i had to get it over with.”
shoko leans in. “rookie mistake. just tell ‘em straight up.”
“i can’t crush a man’s ego like that,” nobara defends.
“they’ll live,” maki says.
you giggle into your drink, letting the warmth buzz up your spine.
“what about you?” shoko nudges. “you getting any lately?”
you shrug, trying to hide your smirk. “define ‘getting.’”
they all ooh at that, but you wave them off.
“nah,” you add quickly. “just been… chillin’.”
nobara raises a brow. “chillin’ with who?”
you don’t answer.
you don’t have to.
because you just spotted him.
across the room, slouched low on the ratty couch like a king on a broken throne, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, blunt glowing between his fingers, is choso.
he’s got his head tipped back, laughing at something gojo just said, eyes heavy-lidded and hazy, lips pink and glossy from smoke. his legs are spread wide, rings catching the LED lights, and there’s a plastic crown crooked on his head like someone dared him to wear it and he just went along with it.
you hand your cup to shoko. “back in a sec.”
you beeline straight to him.
he sees you coming, of course. always does.
“yo,” he says, voice syrup-thick, laced in that lazy drawl you know too well. “there she is.”
you plop onto the couch next to him, thigh pressed to his instantly, as natural as breathing.
“hey, babe.”
he pulls the blunt from his lips and passes it to gojo. “you look real hot,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over you. “like… stupid hot.”
you grin. “you’re high.”
“and you’re a fucking bombshell.”
“so high.”
gojo chuckles. “he’s been saying shit like that about everyone for the last twenty minutes. told sukuna his chains looked ‘shiny as fuck’ and that he would fuck him if he was gay.”
“and i meant it,” choso says, nodding solemnly.
“sukunas a menace,” you laugh.
“a sweet menace,” choso adds.
gojo tosses the blunt into an ashtray and stretches. “aight. i’m gonna go find the aux before someone puts on country again.”
“godspeed,” you tell him.
choso watches him disappear into the crowd before turning back to you. “you good?”
you nod. “the girls are wild tonight.”
“when aren’t they?”
you smile. “mmm. party’s kinda gross, though.”
he grins. “yeah. it’s ass.”
“i miss your parties.”
he hums, dragging a slow breath through his nose. “next week, tuesday.”
“a tuesday party?”
“hell yeah.”
you laugh softly, eyes dropping to the front pocket of his hoodie. his lighter’s there again, the red one. the same one from earlier, edges worn down like it’s been used a thousand times.
without saying anything, you reach into your jacket pocket.
he watches you curiously as you pull out the lighter you painted, black and glossy, the spider lilies blooming across the surface in blood-red ink and gold veins.
you hand it to him wordlessly.
his fingers brush yours as he takes it, and something in his face shifts, softens, quiets.
he turns it over slowly in his palm, eyes scanning every detail like he’s memorizing it.
“you painted this?”
you nod.
“ma…” he says under his breath, almost like it’s too much. “yo. this is… this is fucking beautiful.”
“your other one’s dying,” you say, a little shy now. “figured you needed a new one.”
he’s quiet for a second, blinking slowly.
then,
“you’re such a fuckin’ angel.”
you laugh. “it’s literally just a lighter.”
he doesn’t let his gaze leave it. “nah. it’s you.”
you blink.
he says it so casually. so high. so him.
like it’s just a fact.
you don’t say anything, and neither does he. the music swells. the lights flicker. people scream and laugh and break things somewhere in the background.
but right now, it’s just the two of you, and a lighter between your palms.
“you’re gonna make me cry,” you joke, even though the way he keeps looking at the lighter makes your chest feel a little too full.
choso doesn’t answer, just keeps running his thumb over the curves of it like it’s some delicate artifact, black with the glossy gleam of fresh paint, those red lilies blooming across the surface like blood in water.
he flicks it once. flame bursts up.
“perfect,” he mumbles.
“it works?”
“better than my soul, babe.”
you laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder, and for a few seconds everything around you falls away, just the throb of the music, the warm press of him, and the soft flicker of that tiny orange flame between his fingers.
you sit like that for a little while, talking about nothing. him complaining about a group project he hasn’t started. you teasing him for skipping chem lab again. him promising you some “next-level weed” for tuesday’s party that “tastes like peaches and existential dread.”
his voice is slow, syrup-thick, a little slurred at the ends. he’s stoned, clearly, but you’re used to this. used to the way he leans into you when he’s like this, heavy and unguarded, every thought coming out a little slower and more unfiltered. it’s a version of him that doesn’t get tired of looking at you.
he tugs at the hem of your jacket playfully. “you gonna stay with me tonight?”
you raise a brow. “didn’t plan on going anywhere else.”
he grins, that sleepy smile that makes your heart tick funny.
then your name cuts through the room, pitched over the music.
“oh shit,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “they’re calling me.”
choso hums, not looking away. “tell ‘em i said hi.”
you hesitate for a second, not wanting to leave the warm bubble you’ve curled into. but shoko’s waving you over, and maki’s already halfway across the room with a bottle in her hand and trouble in her eyes.
“i’ll be back,” you say, giving his knee a squeeze as you get up.
he watches you go, eyes dragging over your silhouette, that sway in your hips, the flash of your smile as nobara yells something at you that makes you laugh and flip her off in the same breath.
then he’s alone.
not really, the house is packed, pulsing with bodies and music and smoke, but alone in the way that matters.
the lighter’s still in his hand.
and it won’t stop looking like you.
'she fuckin’ made this.'
that thought loops through his head in lazy spirals. he stares down at it like he’s still not fully processing that it’s his now, the way it fits so perfect in his palm, like you painted it with him in mind, like you know his hands that well.
(which you do.)
'what an angel', he thinks again, your face still ghosted in his mind.
he’s high. so high. his body feels like a heartbeat, slow and deep and pulsing warm. and the lighter, it keeps dragging him back to that moment on the couch, your thigh against his, your fingers brushing his, your quiet little smile when he lit it up for the first time.
'she always does shit like this. just makes stuff better. without even tryin’.'
it hits him all at once, sudden and full-body.
he needs to mark this. this moment. this feeling.
he’s already pulling out his phone before the thought’s even fully formed, scrolling through the camera roll he swore he didn’t care about but secretly checks too often. blurry candids, selfies with you curled against his chest, that pic from two weeks ago when you were looking up at him from the floor of his room with a red gummy in your mouth and sleep in your eyes.
he pauses there.
your eyes in that picture. big, soft, glassy, sexy.
his thumb hovers over the screen.
“yo,” a familiar voice calls, sauntering through the haze. “you look fried.”
sukuna.
choso glances up. “am fried.”
sukuna grins. “figured. that couch is cursed, by the way. guy got a blowie on it last week during pong night.”
choso shrugs. “adds flavor.”
they lean on the wall together, easy silence for a second.
“you see the tat guys?” sukuna asks, chin-jerking toward the kitchen. “someone just got a fucking worm on their calf. like a literal earthworm. said it was ‘symbolic.’”
choso laughs, low and thick. “symbolic of what?”
“dunno. being dirt, i guess.”
he doesn’t respond. just looks back at his phone.
sukuna raises a brow. “you good, dude?”
“yeah.”
“you look like you just had a vision.”
choso finally meets his eye.
“yo,” he says slowly. “you ever just feel something and know you gotta do somethin’ about it right now or you’ll bitch out?”
sukuna squints. “uh. like what?”
choso doesn’t answer.
instead, he pushes off the wall, hoodie slipping off one shoulder again, lighter still clutched in one hand, phone in the other, and starts walking.
sukuna watches him go, a little amused. “damn. alright.”
the air is thick with smoke and bass as he weaves through the crowd, bumping shoulders, dodging a girl dancing with her heels off and her hair in her face.
he reaches the makeshift tattoo stand.
it smells like rubbing alcohol and regret.
“yo,” he says, voice smooth as silk and twice as slow.
the guy behind the table, ink sleeves up to the neck, black gloves, sunglasses indoors, glances up.
“what’s up, man?”
choso leans down slightly, eyes low-lidded and unreadable, body loose and stoned and sexy in that careless way he always carries.
he holds out his phone.
“can you do this,” he asks, “on my arm?”
the artist blinks, then looks at the screen.
it’s a close-up of a girl’s eyes, wide, seductive, yet still glowing with laughter. looking up at the camera like whoever took the photo was the only thing in the world.
looking up at him.
choso taps the screen once. “those are hers.”
the guy raises a brow. “like… your girl?”
choso shrugs one shoulder. his eyes never leave the photo.
the buzz of the needle starts soft, a low, persistent hum, and choso doesn’t even flinch. he just leans back, one arm draped lazily across the armrest, hoodie shoved halfway up his bicep where the artist wiped him down with alcohol. his eyes are half-lidded, bloodshot from whatever gojo rolled earlier, but locked on the phone he’s holding out in his opposite hand.
the picture’s still up. her eyes, warm and wide, lashes curled, looking up at him like she trusts him with her whole heart.
“pretty,” the tattoo guy mutters, angling a small light to get a better look as he sketches the stencil. “yours?”
choso’s mouth curves slow. doesn’t answer right away. just flicks his lighter open and closed, click, click, click, the red spider lilies catching the light each time.
then finally:
“nah.”
the guy hums. “girlfriend?”
he huffs a little, amused. “not that either.”
he sets the lighter down on the table beside him, keeps his eyes on the screen.
“she’s just,” he pauses, then shrugs, soft and slow, “her. y’know?”
the artist side-eyes him. “deep.”
choso smiles again, eyes unfocused. “nah, i’m just fuckin’ high.” the guy presses the warm stencil into choso’s arm, smooths it into place.
“you sure you wanna do this while you’re, uh,” he glances at choso’s glassy expression, the faint grin still tugging at his mouth, “clearly not sober?”
“i’m not wasted,” choso says lazily. “and i’m not dumb. it’s not a mistake.” the artist nods once, respects it. “alright, man.” he flips on the machine again, lines it up.
“you done this before?” choso grunts a laugh. “y’think i got these in my sleep?” he gestures vaguely at the black ink already crawling across both arms, jagged, abstract lines, constellations and waves, some faded with age. some done in basements like this one. “first time sober was the weirdest one.”
the guy snorts. “fair.”
the needle hits skin.
choso exhales slow. doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shift, doesn’t even blink hard. just stares at the wall across the room, jaw slack, hoodie sliding off his shoulder, the buzz settling into the meat of his arm like a low hum of intention. “you ever tattoo someone like this before?” he murmurs after a beat.
“like what?”
he shrugs again. “someone who’s… y’know.” the guy doesn’t answer right away.
choso elaborates, voice softer this time. “she’s not mine. i don’t want her to be. not right now. it’s not like that. it’s just…” he trails off, brows furrowing a little, tongue tucked against the inside of his cheek.
“she just means somethin’. don’t got a word for it.”
the artist doesn’t look up from his work, but his tone’s gentler when he speaks again. “yeah. i’ve seen that before.” choso sinks deeper into the chair, breathing even. the pain’s dull and constant, but it grounds him. keeps his thoughts from spiraling too far out, keeps his high in this exact moment.
“you think she’d be mad?” he asks, voice airy. “if she saw it?”
“dunno,” the guy says. “you gonna tell her?” he blinks slow, head rolling back against the headrest.
“nah.”
another pause.
“not now. it’s just for me.” the tattooer gives a small nod. “that’s real.”
a silence settles between them, the steady hum of the needle, the sound of someone vomiting into a bush outside the window, a muffled scream from the beer pong table two rooms over.
“looks good,” the artist murmurs, wiping excess ink from the forming lines of the eyes. “she’s got crazy lashes.”
choso huffs out a small laugh. “she’d fuckin’ love that you noticed that.”
“yeah?”
he smiles again, softer now. “talked about lash serum for like a week. gave me a whole presentation.”
the guy chuckles under his breath. “sounds like she talks a lot.”
choso closes his eyes.
“she talks just enough.” the buzz continues. the lines take shape. her eyes, right there, etched into his skin. not to claim. not to confess. just to remember.
just for him.
~
the buzz dies down gradually, tapering into a low hum before the artist finally flicks the switch and pulls back. the sudden quiet settles like a heavy blanket over the both of them, just the soft thud of bass from the next room and the subtle scrape of latex gloves against skin.
“alright, man,” the artist says, leaning back with a stretch. “done.”
choso blinks slow, still slouched deep in the chair like he’s been there for hours, like the cushion molded around his bones. he lifts his head, eyes hazy but laser-locked on the strip of bandage being pressed to his upper arm.
“yo, hold up, lemme see it before you cover it,” he says, voice low and hoarse from either weed or reverence, maybe both.
the guy lifts a brow, but obliges. carefully wipes the skin one last time, blood and excess ink coming away in soft red-black smears. the room’s fluorescent lights hit the raw lines at an angle, shining off the freshly tattooed skin like it’s something holy.
and fuck.
there it is.
your eyes.
wide and soft and open, curved lashes sweeping upward in a way no stencil should’ve captured but somehow did. that quiet way you look at him, like he hung the stars, like he’s yours even if the two of you never say it out loud. inked permanent on the soft part of his bicep, nestled between a set of waves and the jagged edge of a half-finished constellation.
for a second, he doesn’t speak. doesn’t move.
he just stares.
it hits him slow, like a good edible, starts behind his eyes, low and warm in his chest, then spreads.
yo.
he’s obsessed.
like fully, all the way, brain-meltingly obsessed.
he turns his arm slightly under the light, eyes tracing the lines, the slight curve of your upper lid, the detail around the corners like you're mid-laugh or mid-thought or both. it looks exactly like you, his favorite version of you. the version that looks up at him like nothing else exists in the room.
god.
you look good on him. not in the possessive way. not even close. it’s not that.
it’s something else. something way quieter. something he can’t even name when he’s sober, and definitely not now, baked out of his skull with his arm still tingling and his hoodie falling half off.
but still, he’s wearing you now. and it feels like something that’s always been true, just waiting for the ink to make it real.
“you good?” the artist asks, half amused, already reaching for the plastic wrap again. “yeah,” choso says, slow, mouth crooked into a lazy grin. “looks fuckin’ sick, dude.” the guy chuckles under his breath. “kinda figured you’d say that.”
“you killed it,” choso adds, finally dragging his eyes off the tattoo. “like, actually.”
the artist nods, pleased. “appreciate it. was fun as hell to do, honestly. you sure you don’t want her name or somethin’? under it?” choso snorts. “nah. that’d make it weird.”
“fair.”
he watches the guy gently press a clean dressing over the fresh ink, tape it up. the sensation’s a dull sting under his skin, not quite pain, just awareness. a reminder that it’s real now. that it’s his, for good.
she doesn’t know. you might never know. and that’s kinda the whole point. he’s not gonna flash it at you mid-party or say anything slick when you sit beside him later like you always do, throwing your legs over his lap and stealing his drink.
nah.
this one’s just for him. a secret under his sleeve, tucked into the curve of his body like a memory.
“you gonna keep it under wraps?” the guy asks, like he can read choso’s whole plan off his face.
“yeah,” choso mutters, grabbing his hoodie and tugging the sleeve back down with a practiced flick. “at least for now. don’t need her freakin’ out or nothing.”
“bet,” the guy says with a short laugh. “i get it.”
choso stands slow, body still heavy from sitting too long and smoking too much. he sways a bit but rights himself, shaking out his arms like he’s just come up from underwater. the whole basement smells like blood and rubbing alcohol and resin, but it’s warm, and the energy buzzes low and steady around him.
he digs in his pocket for a few bills, slaps them into the artist’s open palm.
“appreciate you, man.”
“anytime, bro. take care of that, don’t go dunkin’ it in a keg or anything.” choso grins. “no promises.”
he walks out with his hoodie draped low, sleeve tugged all the way to his wrist despite the heat and the crowd and the chaotic press of bodies funneling in from the hallway. music floods back in slow, a pulse of bass syncing up with his own heartbeat.
but he can’t stop thinking about it. every step he takes, every time the sleeve brushes against the fresh ink, it reminds him.
not of what they are.
but of what you mean.
upu didn’t need to give him that lighter. you didn’t have to think about him in that little quiet way you always did, like he’s more than just a weed plug or the guy you party with every weekend. that little moment, just you in your dorm, painting red spider lilies on a bic you knew he’d never throw away? that shit went straight to his chest. and now you're on his skin. maybe you'd freak out if you saw it. maybe you'd cry. maybe you'd laugh.
maybe you'd get real quiet and never say anything again. or maybe you'd look at him the way you did in that photo. maybe you'd look at him like you knew.
but all that’s for later. for now, he’s just stoned as hell, arm warm and throbbing, and so unbelievably content that it’s almost embarrassing.
he spots gojo again across the room, already perched on the arm of someone else’s couch with a red solo cup and a grin like he owns the house. choso veers toward him, slips back into the noise like he never left.
sleeve tugged down.
lighter in his pocket.
eyes on his arm, just for him.
~
later that night you navigate yourself back to choso after your banter with the girls.
you spot him sunk deep into the cushions, hood half up, curls falling into his face, a bottle of water in one hand and his eyes half-lidded and sleepy with that lazy high he wears better than anyone. he’s surrounded, gojo splayed on one armrest like he owns the place, sukuna lounged sideways with his feet on the table, and suguru perched on the edge, nursing a half-finished blunt.
“yo, look who it is,” gojo grins as you walk up, already clocking the way you move like you’re headed home, not just to a guy. “princess finally found her prince.”
you don’t say anything, just slide right into the little space at choso’s side like it was made for you. his arm shifts automatically, pulling you in like it’s instinct, and you tuck your face into his shoulder, letting out the softest exhale. you can feel the thrum of his voice in your cheek when he speaks.
“hey, ma.”
his hand’s warm against your hip, steady, grounding. he smells like weed and cedar and the faintest trace of paint from the lighter you gave him. it’s in his pocket now, safe like something sacred.
“so anyway,” suguru picks back up like you didn’t just crash-land in choso’s lap, “i’m telling you, the guy had no idea what he was doing. tried to roll with a swisher, no guts, just dumped the weed in and twisted the end like a fuckin’ lollipop.”
“god, not the lollipop roll,” sukuna groans, dragging a hand over his face. “freshman?”
“of course it was a freshman,” gojo says, grinning. “those little guys think watching one youtube tutorial makes them bob marley.”
“yo, remember that one dude at the delta party?” choso says, head tilting back slightly. “rolled a joint with a bible page.”
“amen,” sukuna snorts.
“nah, for real,” choso laughs, hand tightening just slightly where it rests on your side. “he said it made the high holier.” you huff against his hoodie, and his fingers flex like he felt it, like it was the best sound he’d heard all night.
they keep going, weed stories, party war stories, the dumbest shit they’ve ever seen in a frat house at 3am. it’s relentless, loud, chaotic, but you stay quiet, tucked against choso’s side like he’s the only still thing in the room. his thumb runs in slow circles against your waist through the fabric of your top, and you feel the way he laughs before you hear it.
“yo,” gojo says, leaning across suguru to point at choso. “what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done at a party?”
“besides adopt a girlfriend he doesn’t kiss?” sukuna adds. choso blinks slow. doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t even twitch.
“probably that time at theta when i fell asleep in the bathtub and woke up with a raccoon in my lap.” suguru chokes. “you serious?”
“deadass.”
“was it… alive?”
“bro. it was chillin’. just vibin’ with me.”
“you probably hotboxed the tub,” gojo says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “raccoon was just tryna get high.”
choso grins, soft and slow, and you nudge your nose into his hoodie like you’re hiding your own smile. “what about women?” sukuna says suddenly, eyes glinting like he’s fishing. “y’all ever hook up at your own party?”
“you’re disgusting, that's against reg” gojo tells him cheerfully.
“don’t lie,” sukuna drawls. “you know you have.”
“alright, once,” gojo admits. “but i kicked her out after because she tried to name my bongs.” “you’re heartless,” suguru says, deadpan.
“you don’t name the bongs,” gojo insists. “they earn names. it’s sacred.”
“what about you, choso?” sukuna’s gaze cuts sideways. “you got bodies stacked in your stoner dungeon?” choso hums, slow and easy. you feel the low sound in his chest, pressed flush to your cheek.
“nah,” he says. “i don’t hook up with girls who don’t know how to roll.” the boys howl, gojo nearly falling off the couch.
“that’s so on brand,” suguru laughs. “you need standards,” choso mumbles, amused, and leans his cheek briefly against the top of your head.
the lighter’s still in his pocket. his arm’s still over your shoulders. and beneath the sleeve of his hoodie, hidden from the world, your eyes are inked into his skin.
you shift a little, just enough to tuck your legs under yourself, settling more fully into him, and he adjusts without thinking — arm around you tighter now, palm spread warm across your ribs, thumb grazing your side through the fabric. he’s careful. doesn’t let the hoodie ride up. doesn’t let anyone see. the tattoo’s still fresh, still tender, and it’s just for him.
“yo, you good?” suguru asks, nodding at him. choso blinks slow. “yeah man’.”
“that weed hit hard,” gojo says. “i feel like i’m seein’ sounds.”
“you tryna kill someone?” suguru laughs. “every time i hit one, i feel like my soul’s leaving my body.”
“shit’s a rite of passage,” sukuna shrugs.
“nah, a rite of passage is hosting a rager with a cop at your door and acting like you live there,” gojo grins. “have you?” choso asks, amused.
“bro, i’ve answered the door in a bathrobe before,” gojo says proudly. they all crack up again. you don’t say anything, but your smile’s pressed right into choso’s chest, and he dips his head for a second to nuzzle his nose into your hair.
“she’s real quiet tonight,” suguru says, noticing. “nah, she’s just comfy,” choso says easily. “she don’t need to talk when she’s like this.”
you don’t. not when you’ve got his warmth, his arm around you, his voice rumbling low in your ear with every lazy joke. it’s always like this, like no one else in the room really matters, like you could fall asleep right here and he’d keep the world spinning while you did.
“that’s love,” gojo says mock-serious.
“shut up,” choso mutters. but he doesn’t stop smiling. and the lighter’s still warm in his pocket.
and your eyes are still inked into his arm, safe and secret beneath layers of cotton and smoke.
~
the house is still going when you two finally get up. it’s past 2am, maybe closer to 3, but the music hasn’t let up and there’s still people on the floor, drinks in hand, voices loud and slurred over each other. someone’s passed out with a sharpie mustache, another guy’s making out with a pillow. classic kappa chaos.
choso’s the one who moves first. you feel it in the way his arm shifts, in the soft brush of his thumb against your side like a nudge. he leans in close, voice barely above a murmur.
“you good to dip?”
you nod into his hoodie, eyes half-lidded, heart heavy with warmth and weed.
he helps you up slow, palm steady at your back. when you stand, the cold air from the open back door hits your legs and you shiver a little, instinctively leaning back into his side. he shrugs his hoodie higher and throws an arm around your shoulders like he already knew it’d happen.
“yo,” choso calls out over the couch, voice scratchy and low. “we out.”
gojo perks up from where he’s still posted with a half-spilled drink, eyes bright. “tell your girlfriend goodnight for us.”
you don’t say anything, just press your face into choso’s shoulder again, and he laughs under his breath.
“night, man,” suguru says with a nod, already halfway into rolling another blunt.
sukuna lifts a hand lazily. “text if you end up in a ditch.”
“if i do, i’m takin’ you with me,” choso mutters.
they all laugh again, and it follows you both out the front door, the porch light buzzing weak and yellow above you. the night’s cooler now, quiet in a way that makes everything feel soft around the edges. your heels click against the pavement as you walk, but only for a second, choso notices and without a word, crouches down in front of you, glancing back over his shoulder.
“get on.”
you blink, amused. “seriously?”
“c’mon, ma,” he mumbles, tugging at your wrist. “your feet hurt.”
you climb onto his back with a little laugh, arms wrapped loose around his shoulders, and he stands like it’s nothing, steady under your weight. his steps are slow and sure down the sidewalk, the frat house lights shrinking behind you, the sounds of the party fading with every step.
“you always take care of me,” you mumble against his neck.
he hums low. “’course i do. you're my.. best friend.”
you walk like that for a while, his hoodie soft against your cheek, his hair brushing your face every time the wind shifts. he doesn’t say much, just hums sometimes or comments on dumb shit you pass, a traffic cone in a bush, a raccoon on the curb that freezes when it sees you, like it knows choso somehow.
he sets you down once you’re close, only when his own building’s steps are in sight. his hand stays in yours as he leads you inside, up the stairs, past the other bedrooms where people are either passed out or definitely not sleeping. his door clicks shut behind you with a soft thud, and everything goes quiet.
his room’s the same as always, warm, dim, the faint smell of weed and whatever incense he burned earlier in the week still lingering in the corners. one sock on the floor, a hoodie thrown over the back of his chair. you’ve been here a hundred times, maybe more.
but tonight feels different. softer. warmer.
he pulls his hoodie off slow, careful of the sleeve, and tosses it toward the desk chair. the bandage underneath catches the light for a second, but he turns before you see too much.
you toe your shoes off and crawl onto the bed without thinking. he follows, slower, body still heavy with high and heat and something else he can’t name.
you’re both under the blanket when he finally speaks.
“hey.”
you look over, curled on your side facing him.
his eyes are half-lidded, soft. one arm tucked behind his head, the other stretched toward you, palm open on the comforter like he’s offering it.
“i really fuckin’ love that lighter.”
your heart stutters a little. “yeah?”
he nods, slow. “like… a lot. been using it all night. even switched pockets for it, kept checking to make sure it didn’t fall out or get swiped.”
you smile, something small and full blooming in your chest. “good. it’s supposed to be yours.”
“feels like it.”
he looks at you for a long second. the space between you shrinks until his arm slides around your waist and pulls you in close.
you go easy, always do, settling into him like he’s your own bed, your own pillow, the place you always end up no matter how far you drift.
he breathes in slow, his nose brushing your hair.
“the flowers… why’d you paint those?”
you press your face into his chest.
“they reminded me of you,” you say quietly. “red spider lilies. they’re kind of… complicated. people think they’re about death or goodbye, but they also mean memory. rebirth. starting over. they grow in all the places nothing else does.”
choso’s quiet for a second.
then, soft, “you think i’m like that?”
you shrug against him, voice even softer. “i think you’re the kind of person who sticks. who stays even when shit gets hard. and you don’t always say how you feel but… you’re steady. like those flowers. like fire.”
he exhales slow.
“fuck, ma.”
“what?”
“you’re gonna make me cry or some shit.”
you laugh, a quiet huff against his chest. he wraps both arms around you now, tucking you into the space beneath his chin, his hand sliding up into your hair.
his fingers stroke slow, gentle. again and again.
“you can cry,” you mumble. “i won’t tell.”
he chuckles low, the sound vibrating through you.
“nah, i’m good. just… i dunno. not used to someone thinkin’ about me like that.”
you don’t say anything. just curl closer, your fingers fisting lightly in the fabric of his shirt.
the room settles into silence. soft and slow. your breaths even out together.
his hand keeps stroking through your hair, steady and grounding. like he could do it forever. like maybe he will.
his voice comes again, quieter this time.
“gonna keep that lighter forever.”
you smile, eyes fluttering shut. “good.”
“not even gonna let gojo touch it."
“definitely good.”
his lips brush your hair, a ghost of a kiss.
you feel it all, the warmth, the safety, the way his body curls slightly to fit around yours like a shield, like a home.
his heartbeat’s slow against your cheek.
“night, ma,” he whispers, already half-asleep.
you murmur it back, voice slurred with sleep, breath syncing with his.
his fingers keep moving, slow circles through your hair.
and in the soft dark, beneath the blanket, beneath the silence, his arm curls around you just enough to press the fresh ink on his bicep to your side, a quiet secret. a permanent truth.
just for him.
just for tonight.
just for you.
~
~
it’s been a chill afternoon, sun’s out, classes dragging, brain fried. choso’s walking out of the lab building with his earbuds in, hoodie half-zipped, replaying your last message in his head. a pic of your shoes kicked off under a library table, captioned come save me, three broken hearts. made him smile. still does.
he’s almost past the quad when a shadow cuts across the sidewalk.
“yo, choso.”
doesn’t need to look up to know who it is.
that voice, too smooth. familiar in the kind of way that feels like smoke curling up your back.
he pulls one earbud out and slows.
toji’s leaned against the trunk of an oak tree like he’s been waiting. sunglasses on, black tee snug across his chest, arms crossed like he’s got all day. his smirk’s already half-there.
“what’s up?” choso mutters.
“you got a sec?”
choso gives him a long look. he knows toji. knows the kind of calm that means something’s coming.
“…yeah,” he says anyway.
they walk.
they’ve done this before, that time a few weeks ago before his lab, once or twice after parties, when everyone else was loud and drunk and messy. toji’s always been different. sharper. like he watches the room just to see where it bleeds.
“how’s life at delta mu?” toji asks after a few steps. casual. fake.
“same shit.”
“yeah?” he smirks. “you still throwing those weed parties with your little mascot?”
choso’s jaw ticks. “you mean y/n?”
toji chuckles. “yeah. her.”
he tosses a glance sideways. too casual.
“she’s got some energy, huh? always bouncing around, arms all over you. she like that with everybody or just you?”
choso doesn’t answer. toji doesn’t need one.
“nah, i’ve seen it,” he continues. “always tucked up next to you. on your lap. wrapped around your arm. clinging to your hoodie like it’s the last blunt in the world.”
he laughs under his breath. “kinda cute.”
choso’s fists go deep in his pockets.
“she’s just like that,” he says flatly.
toji hums. “you sure?”
choso looks over.
“what’s your point?”
“just wondering,” toji shrugs, still smiling like it’s harmless. “you’ve told me before, you two aren’t dating.”
“we’re not.”
“but you hang out every day.”
“yeah.”
“sleep in the same bed sometimes, right?”
choso’s mouth tightens.
toji grins like he caught something.
“so she’s single?”
choso stares straight ahead.
“…yeah.”
“good to know.”
silence.
the wind brushes through the quad. students chatter behind them. someone’s playing music from a bluetooth speaker in the grass, something smooth, almost romantic. it doesn’t help.
“she’s just real… open, you know?” toji says. “like, warm. sweet as hell. makes you feel like you’ve known her forever.” choso stays quiet.
“i ran into her the other day,” toji adds like it’s nothing. “outside the gym. we talked for a sec.” his tone is lighter now. teasing. like he’s digging.
“she remembered my name. smiled real nice, too. said she was headed to meet you.”
no surprise there. you always say where you're going. always talking about choso like he’s the center of your world. and maybe that’s why this stings. and toji knows it.
“you ever wonder if she does that for you?” he asks. “tells other guys she’s headed to see you. uses your name like a shield.”
he doesn’t wait for a reply.
“or maybe it’s just habit. maybe she’s comfortable. you ever think about that?”
“don’t do this.”
choso’s voice is low now. warning. toji just smirks.
“look, man. i’m not trying to piss you off. just… trying to understand. ‘cause you act like you’re her boyfriend, but then you say you’re not.”
he tilts his head.
“so which is it?”
choso breathes slow through his nose.
“we’re close. we’ve always been close. that’s it.” toji nods. like he buys it.
but he doesn’t.
“damn,” he says. “you got more patience than me.”
“what’s that mean?”
“means if a girl like that was pressed up on me every night, i wouldn’t be wasting time calling her my friend.” he says it with a grin, but there’s something sharp underneath.
“you really never tried?” toji asks. “never kissed her? not once?” choso doesn’t respond. he can’t. he kisses you all the time, on the head, never on the lips.
because the truth’s stuck in his throat, the way you fall asleep in his arms, the way you hold his lighter like it means something, the way you always come back to him like he’s home. and he’s the dumbass who never claimed you.
“so she’s single, then?” toji repeats.
“yeah,” choso says, quieter than the first time, barely above a whisper.
toji gives him one last nod.
“fairs,” he says. “just wanted to be sure.” and then he walks away. choso doesn’t move. not for a long time.
just stands there, fists clenched, teeth gritted, watching toji’s silhouette disappear down the path like it’s a threat, because it is. he knew.
he knew before he asked.
and now he’s coming.
because choso left the door wide open.
and you?
you’re free to walk through it.
~
choso’s room, late in the afternoon.
your legs are curled under you on choso’s bed, hoodie three sizes too big hanging off your shoulder, his, of course. the windows are cracked open, letting in the soft hum of birds and the echo of some guys yelling down at the basketball court. his room smells like incense, sage and something deeper, something him, warm, sleepy. you’ve been here a hundred times like this. maybe more.
his hoodie sleeves keep sliding past your wrists as you text, thumbs quick, quiet smile pulling at your lips. he’s across the room, digging through a drawer for his rolling tray. you can feel his presence without even looking. you always do.
“yo, did you move my grinder?” he calls, glancing over his shoulder.
“nope,” you answer, distracted, fingers still flying over your screen. your phone lights again.
toji [3:04pm]: you looked cute at that mixer last night.
you bite your lip. thumbs hover.
then you type:
you [3:07pm]: oh, so ur stalking me noww?
you don’t see choso pause. you don’t see how long his eyes linger on your phone. you don’t realize he saw the name, until he speaks.
“who you texting?”
you blink up, tone of his voice unfamiliar.
“hm? oh—” you shift your phone in your hand, instinctive. “just… someone.”
he tilts his head.
“someone, huh.”
you laugh a little. “why do you sound like that?”
he doesn’t answer. he crosses the room instead, slow steps. plants himself at the edge of the bed, arms folded. you look up at him and that warm energy’s gone. replaced with something colder. sharp.
“that toji?”
your breath stalls.
“…yeah.”
choso stares at you. unreadable.
“why?”
“what do you mean why?” you ask, eyebrows tugging. “he messaged me. we were just talking.”
he hums, low.
'not buying it.'
“just talking,” he echoes. “what about?” you sit up straighter. “what’s going on?”
“what’d he say?”
“choso—”
“lemme see.”
he gestures at your phone. you clutch it instinctively. like muscle memory. like guilt? “are you serious right now?” he doesn’t answer. jaw’s tight. eyes dark.
“what’d he say?” he asks again. your fingers squeeze your phone. you feel a flush crawl up your neck. not from embarrassment, but shock.
“you’re not serious,” you say again, this time quieter. he just looks at you. so you speak.
“he said i was cute, that's it.”
his jaw ticks.
“you flirting with him?”
“what?”
“you heard me.”
you scoff. “no. i wasn’t. it wasn’t even- i didn’t mean it like that.” choso steps back, runs a hand through his hair. pacing now.
“you texting him while you’re in my bed?”
“what does that matter?”
“it matters.”
his voice is sharper now. rough around the edges. not loud, but tight, like it’s fighting to stay inside his chest. “you know how i feel about that guy.”
“choso, he’s been nothing but nice lately—”
“he’s not nice. he’s not interested in being friends. he’s waiting, he’s circling, you don’t see it?”
you blink.
“so what, you’re mad ‘cause i texted him back?” he looks at you like you just spit on the floor. “i’m mad ‘cause you’re in my fucking hoodie, in my bed, telling some other guy he’s got a shot.”
you freeze.
the silence that falls is loud.
so loud.
your eyes widen. you stare at him, lips parted. unsure if you heard that right. unsure if he meant to say it.
“a shot?” you echo. he looks away. exhales hard.
“never mind.”
“no,” you say, voice firm now. “say it again.”
he doesn’t. but you both feel the truth echoing off the walls.
you look down. suddenly too warm. like the hoodie’s burning your skin. “…i didn’t know you’d care,” you say, almost to yourself.
choso swallows. “i do.” you glance back up.
“why?”
he doesn’t answer, but you already know. and now the air is thick with it. the unspoken thing. and for the first time, it’s not sweet. not warm. it hurts.
because it means everything he’s never said, everything he’s been, came with conditions you never agreed to. came with borders he never drew, but expected you not to cross.
you breathe slow. he watches you. you speak first.
“if you wanted to be the only one texting me like that, you should’ve said something.” choso’s face shifts. his mouth opens like he’s going to say something, defend himself, maybe, argue the way he always stays quiet because he doesn’t want to lose you,but nothing comes out.
instead, his brows knit together, lips pressed in a tight line. his fingers curl at his sides.
“you really think i don’t wanna be that?” he says, voice rough. “you think this shit’s been casual for me?” you blink at him. your breath catches.
“you’ve never said it was anything else, choso. what was i supposed to think?”
“fuck,” he growls, pacing again. “you were supposed to know. i thought you knew.”
his voice rises, not yelling, but loud with frustration. he’s unraveling in real time, and it’s shaking something loose in you, too.
“how was i supposed to know?” you shoot back. “you flirt but you never say anything. you touch me like i’m yours but act like i’m just your best friend—”
“you are mine.” your voice dies in your throat.
he stares at you. and when he speaks again, it’s quieter, but no less intense.
“you’re mine,” he says again, like a confession. like a curse. “always been mine.” your stomach flips.
“then why—” your voice cracks — “why didn’t you say anything?”
choso runs a hand through his hair again, like he’s trying to physically hold himself together. like it hurts.
“’cause i was scared,” he snaps. “scared that if i said it out loud, it’d fuck everything up. that you’d look at me different. that you’d leave.” you stare.
“so you’d rather let someone else have me?”
he stiffens. you rise onto your knees on the bed, fire lighting behind your ribs now. “you’d rather let toji of all people try it?”
his jaw clenches. “he’s not gonna have you.” your heartbeat skids.
he moves in fast, faster than he ever has, and grabs your wrist, firm but not rough, like he can’t bear to let the distance exist any longer.
“i’m not letting him have you,” he mutters.
you’re still frozen, looking up at him. something between fear and thrill curling in your gut.
“choso,” you whisper. he doesn’t stop. he pushes you back gently onto the bed, one hand catching your waist, the other bracing against the mattress. he hovers over you, breath heavy, eyes searching your face like he’s begging you to see it, really see it this time.
“i’m fucking in love with you.”
your heart punches into your throat. his forehead dips, pressing against yours, voice hoarse.
“i’ve been in love with you since you showed up to my first party and we listened to that dumb song together.”
you let out a shaky laugh, but your eyes are wet his thumb brushes your cheek.
“i never said it ‘cause i thought this was enough. thought just having you close was better than risking it all. but i can’t—” he pulls in a breath, voice shaking now too — “i can’t sit quiet while other people try to take you from me.”
you’re blinking fast now. breath catching. every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire beneath his touch.
“you’re my girl,” he says again, softer this time. “you’ve always been mine.”
you don’t answer right away. your chest rises and falls beneath his, shallow and unsteady. your palm is still on his cheek, but your eyes have shifted, staring past him now. unfocused. wet.
“you’re only saying that,” you murmur, “because someone else finally had the balls to go after me.”
his breath catches. your voice is quieter, but sharp now, like you’re trying to convince yourself. like you want to believe it, but the cracks are there, and they’re splitting open.
“you didn’t say anything until he got involved. until he started asking about me. texting me. seeing me.” your hand falls away from his face. “and now suddenly, i’m yours?”
his eyes widen. “no—”
“you had so long to tell me, choso. so many chances.”
“y/n, it’s not like that—”
“then what is it like?” you breathe. “’cause i don’t get to be the girl you only want when someone else does.”
choso stares at you, heart hammering. like you just ripped something raw and bloody straight out of his chest.
he swallows.
and then, slowly, he pushes back, just far enough to sit up on his knees beside you. the mattress dips with the weight shift. his hands fumble for the hem of his hoodie.
he pulls it up and over his head in one quick move. your breath stutters.
there, inked into the inside of his upper arm, where he’d hidden it every time you curled up against him, is a tattoo.
of your eyes.
staring straight back at you.
your real breath, the one stuck in your throat, finally punches out of you.
choso watches your expression shift, eyes flicking from the ink to his face and back. he swallows once, hard, and says:
“got it the night of the party. when you gave me the lighter.” you blink.
“you were curled up on me. whole time i was talking with the boys, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. how close you were. how you looked at me like that was your home.” he swipes a thumb under his nose, like he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. “so i got up, high as fuck, to the guy tatting people in the corner. told him to ink your eyes on me.”
your lips part, but nothing comes out. his voice softens.
“i didn’t say anything ‘cause i thought it was enough. just having you near. but it’s not. not anymore.”
your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your ears.
he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room. like he needs you to believe it. really believe it.
“this isn’t about toji. it’s never been about him. i wanted you long before he ever said your name.”
you’re still staring at the tattoo.
he moves closer again. his hand brushes your knee, gentle.
“you think i’d get your fucking eyes tatted on me just ‘cause i’m jealous?” you blink fast.
his hand finds your face again. tender. grounding “you’re it for me.”
his voice is low, raspy. not just from the emotion, but from how hard he’s holding it in, like if he lets go, everything he’s ever felt for you will come spilling out and drown him.
but he lets it go anyway.
“you’re all i think about,” choso says, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “when i’m high, when i’m sober, when you’re across the room and laughing at someone’s stupid joke, when you’re asleep in my bed, wearing my shirt, you’re in my head all the time, ma.” your breath catches.
“every song reminds me of you. every little thing you do drives me crazy. you don’t even know how much of me you’ve got.”
he leans closer, forehead nearly touching yours.
“you gave me that lighter and i wanted to kiss you right there in the middle of that party. when you paint your nails i stare at your hands for hours. when you fall asleep on me at parties, i sit still like a statue so you don’t move. i’m always lookin’ at you like ive already lost you, and it kills me.”
his hand finds your jaw, warm and steady, fingers curling behind your ear. your breath hitches, and he’s close enough to feel it.
“you’ve had my heart since freshman year. and i didn’t say anything ‘cause i thought maybe you didn’t want it. or maybe you already had it and didn’t need to hear it out loud.”
you swallow, shaky. lips parted. cheeks flushed.
and choso looks down at them, your lips, like he’s been holding himself back from kissing you for a lifetime.
and then he doesn’t anymore.
he crashes into you like he’s starving.
the kind of kiss that drags a sound out of your throat before you even realize it, all heat and pressure and ache, all the months and years and everything he’s shoved down, poured out into the way his lips mold against yours. he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll pull away, and like he knows you won’t.
your hands claw at his shoulders, winding into the mess of his hair, tugging him in even closer. and choso groans, deep in his throat, pressing you down into the bed, slotting his hips against yours.
his mouth moves fast, desperate, lips, tongue, teeth, like he can’t get enough. like the taste of you is something he needs in his lungs.
“fuck,” he breathes against your mouth, dragging his lips down your jaw, “you don’t get it, do you?”
your back arches, lips parting when he sucks lightly under your ear.
“how bad i’ve wanted this. you.”
his hands roam, over your waist, under your shirt, up your sides like he’s trying to memorize all of you at once. and every place he touches leaves a trail of fire.
you moan his name, soft and shaky, and he loses it a little more, bites your bottom lip as he grinds his hips down into yours, heavy and hot and so there.
“say it again,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded, forehead pressed to yours. “say my name.”
“choso.”
he shudders.
“again.”
“cho!.”
he kisses you so deep it knocks the breath out of your lungs. kisses you like he owns you, like you’ve always belonged to him, and like he’s finally letting himself claim what’s already his.
and fuck, you let him.
you’ve wanted this just as long, you've needed him just as bad.
and now, with your limbs tangled, your body burning under his, your heart thudding like a war drum in your chest, there’s no more pretending.
you’re his. he’s yours. and it’s written all over his face.
choso looks at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, like he’s starved for you, but still savoring the moment. his eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, but soft. reverent. he cups your cheek with a hand that’s just slightly trembling, brushing his thumb along your skin like he can’t believe you’re real.
he kisses your forehead, slow and grounding, like a promise. then your nose. then your lips, and that one lingers. warm, aching, deep enough that it steals the air from your lungs. it’s not just desire. it’s everything he’s never said until now.
“please let me see you, ma." he whispers, voice hoarse, like he’s been holding back forever.
you nod, lips parted, eyes locked with his. your breath stutters as his fingers ghost over the hem of your shirt, lifting it inch by inch like he’s unwrapping something precious. he tosses it aside, only to pull you in again. his palms spread wide across your ribs, thumbs brushing just beneath your chest.
“fuck,” he breathes, low and to himself. “so fucking beautiful.”
he leans in, mouth dragging hot and open along your neck, kissing and breathing you in, his lips trembling against your pulse like he’s drunk off you. he murmurs something there, a soft, almost desperate, “mine,” before he undoes your bra with one practiced flick.
and when it falls away, he doesn’t touch you right away. he just stares, like the sight of you has knocked the wind out of him.
his hands come up slow, palms warm as they cup you like he’s afraid to break something delicate. “been dreaming about this,” he says. “about you. here. like this. in my bed. lookin’ up at me like you already know i’d give you everything.”
you shiver under the weight of it all, his voice, his gaze, his touch. and then his mouth is on your chest, lips sealing around your nipple, tongue flicking before he sucks. slow, deep, just enough to make you arch into him with a needy whimper.
“choso…”
he groans, hand sliding lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. he pulls them down with your panties in one motion, dragging his palms down your thighs on the way. and when he sits back, just to take you in, bare, breathless, flushed, his eyes go wide, like he’s trying to commit you to memory. “look at you,” he murmurs, chest rising with each ragged breath. “you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
you reach for him, tugging his shirt up and over his head, palms skating down the strong lines of his chest, stopping only when your fingers find his arm. your breath catches.
your eyes. inked in black and red over his skin, etched like a confession. you won't ever get sick of seeing it.
he watches you take it in, sees the exact moment you understand, and he doesn’t say anything. not at first. he just leans in, takes your hand in his, and presses it over his heart.
“see?” he whispers. “been yours. always.”
your eyes brim, chest tight with something that has no name. and then he kisses you again, slow and deep, tongue stroking yours, hand sliding between your thighs. he groans into your mouth when he feels you, warm, wet, already trembling.
“so wet for me,” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “all this for me, huh?”
his fingers dip into you, one at first, then two, slow and deep, curling just right. your back arches, mouth falling open with a gasp as he starts to move them, watching every twitch and shiver you give him like he’s memorizing the way you come apart. “fuck, baby,” he breathes. “you feel so good, been wantin’ this for so long. just wanted to take care of you. make you feel good.”
his lips trail back down, mouth closing around your nipple again as his fingers keep working you open, the room echoing with your broken gasps and soft moans. he kisses your sternum, your ribs, every inch of you he can reach like he’s trying to make up for every second he didn’t have you.
and when your legs start to tremble, when your thighs squeeze around his hand and you whimper his name into the crook of his neck, he groans, low and sexy, and pulls back just enough to strip the last of his clothes.
his cock is flushed, hard, already leaking, and still, he pauses.
he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing hard. “you sure you wanna do this hun?”
“i want you,” you whisper, voice cracking. “i want all of you.”
and when he slides in, slow, deliberate, it’s overwhelming. your nails dig into his shoulders, mouth open in a silent gasp, and he just groans, long and low, burying his face in your neck.
“fuck, sweetheart… you feel so fuckin’ good, made for me, huh?”
his hips rock into you, slow and deep, dragging along every sensitive inch inside you until you’re trembling again, mouth parted in helpless moans. he kisses you through it, messy and uncoordinated, full of teeth and tongue and need.
he doesn’t hold back anymore. not his body, not his voice. he’s everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his words, and every thrust is rougher, deeper, hotter than the last.
“been yours since the day i met you,” he breathes against your skin. “you’re mine, baby. mine. no one else gets to have you like this. no one else even fuckin’ compares.”
you believe him. how could you not, when he’s saying it like he’s been waiting years to let it out?
you fall apart first, clenching around him with a strangled moan, whole body trembling as your orgasm crashes through you, and choso follows, grinding into you with a low growl, holding you close as he spills into you.
he doesn’t let go. not even after. he stays buried deep, forehead to yours, one hand cradling your jaw like it’s fragile.
“not lettin’ you go,” he whispers. “not now. not ever.”
~
raging music throbs and the party’s already in full swing when you two walk in. the bass thrums under your feet, bodies packed tight in the kappa house. familiar faces flash by in strobes of color and sound, solo cups raised, someone laughing too loud, gojo shouting across the room with a bottle in each hand.
and then you and choso step into the chaos like it’s nothing. except tonight, it’s not nothing. it’s everything. your hand is in his. his thumb strokes over your knuckles like it’s second nature, and you’re tucked into his side like you’ve always belonged there. he’s wearing that hoodie you love, and you’ve got it slung off your shoulder like it’s yours now. he hasn’t let go of you since you walked through the door, and he doesn’t plan to. people notice.
gojo sees first. his mouth falls open around the mouth of a beer can, and he drops it on the counter with a dramatic gasp. “oh my god.” choso raises an eyebrow, smirking. “no fuckin way,” sukuna mutters, eyes narrowing. “this for real?” you don’t say anything. just smile, nuzzling into choso’s chest. and choso, god, he melts. his arm tightens around you like instinct, like he’s not even thinking about it. “you’re kidding,” maki blurts from across the room. she’s half-drunk and squinting, pointing her beer bottle at you two like she’s trying to make sense of a mirage. “you finally fucked?”
“maki,” shoko hisses, slapping her arm, but she’s already grinning. “i knew it. i knew it.” suguru lifts his drink with a slow, knowing smile. “took you long enough.” gojo, meanwhile, is spinning in a circle like he just witnessed a miracle. “wait wait wait,” he says, pointing between the two of you. “you’re telling me this entire time, we’ve been watching you two eye-fuck each other across every frat house on campus, and now you’re just casually showing up like this?”
“what can i say,” choso murmurs, pulling you even closer, “i figured it was time.” “look at his hand placement,” shoko says, leaning into maki. “that’s not friends. that’s boyfriend hand placement.”
“yeah and look at her,” maki laughs. “she looks like she just got dicked down and praised like a goddess.” you duck your head a little, embarrassed, but choso leans in and kisses your cheek, then your temple. it’s so soft, so easy, and when he pulls back, he looks straight at toji who’s staring wide eyed, steady, calm, but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.
“don’t look at her like that,” he says, voice low. “not tonight. not ever.” toji scoffs, raising his hands in mock surrender, but his grin is sharp. “damn. someone’s possessive now.”
“been possessive,” choso mutters, like it’s not even up for debate. he turns his attention back to you instantly, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“you okay?”
you nod. “i’m perfect.” and then he kisses you. not a peck. not for show. it’s slow, unhurried, with his hand cupping your jaw and his lips moving with the kind of tenderness that makes your knees weak. the room could be burning down and he wouldn’t stop. you don’t even hear gojo’s dramatic screech until you break apart.
“yo this is crazy,” he says, spinning around and yelling to no one in particular. “choso is off the market. choso kamo, resident stoner-lover of no one but his weed and his hoodie collection, is now cuffed.”
“what’s it feel like,” suguru asks with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at choso, “to be someone’s boyfriend?”
“feels like i shoulda done it years ago,” choso says. you blink up at him, heart catching in your throat. “yo,” yuuji calls from the other side of the room. “does this mean we’re finally allowed to say you two have been in love since freshman year?” “i always said it,” nobara yells, shoving through the crowd with a drink. “don’t act like y’all didn’t see them cuddled up at every party like an old married couple.”
“wait does this mean she’s moving into his room?” gojo asks, visibly spiraling. “what’s gonna happen to the guest bed? who’s gonna roll for me when choso’s too busy being in love?”
“die mad,” choso says flatly, and everyone laughs. but even through all the noise and teasing and attention, his focus never strays from you. his hand stays on your waist. his eyes keep dropping to your mouth like he’s remembering exactly what it feels like.
“you good?” he murmurs again, like he just wants to hear you say it.
you press your nose to his chest and nod, smiling. “more than good.”
he kisses you again, slower this time, like it’s just for you. like no one else is in the room. like he’s exactly where he’s always wanted to be.
Toji x f reader , slow burn, arguing, begging, feral, smut, dirty talk , pussy eating, fucking and aftercare🙏🏽
“C’mon ma’, why you behave like this all the time? Huh?” He said placing his hands behind your back while trying to make eye contact with you.
“I’m tired of this Toji, you can’t talk to me like that in front of them” You pushed his hands away from you and turned away sitting in the edge of the sofa while you take off your heels.
He looked at you with frustration and pinched the tip of his nose and let out a long sigh “princess we talked already about this, is not that deep” he sat in the chair in front of you while manspreading.
You looked up at him “so if I called you my dog in front of my friends would you like it?” You raised an eyebrow confused and angry at his statement.
A smirk was obviously growing on his face even if he tried to hide it “your dog? Mmh and why is that of all animals a dog?” He said challenging you with his eyes while he placed his hands in his thighs in a way that made him look so good that for a moment, you forgot what you were arguing about.
“Because..urgh” you rolled your eyes pushing away your heels and getting confortable in the sofa “because apparently I’m your kitten or whatever that means, so to be fair you are my dog” you said taking off your hoodie calmly.
“Hmm and why is that your my kitten, princess?” He said now not hiding the smirk on his face , he loved when you got mad at him because it turned him on, really on.
“I don’t know, you tell me” you said a bit flustered while his intense gaze stares directly at your soul.
“Ohhh ma, so you don’t know huh?” He leaned forward staring at you with such hunger that you swear you could feel him undressing you with his eyes.
Suddenly the tension in the living room felt so thick that you though that you could even touch it with your hands, the room felt smaller and even if there was some distance between you and him, you swear you could feel him touching you with his gaze.
“No, but don’t change the subject Toji! You always do that urghh” you rolled your eyes with the excuse of being mad at him when you actually knew deep down that it was because you were getting turned on and he knew that.
“Hmmm right sorry ma..” he leaned back in the chair, slowly licking his lips and smiling at your blushy face that was avoiding his.
You let out a soft sigh and crossed both your arms and legs, your jeans squeezing tight your thighs while your white baggy shirt revealed some of your collarbone.
“So no, like I don’t mind if you call me that but not in front of your friends…” you were embarrassed admiring that it didn’t bothered you the nickname, but truly it didn’t. He didn’t use it in a pejorative way but depending on his mood it made your heart warm or race.
He didn’t say anything, he kept staring at you, your eyes, the way you looked away when you were overwhelmed by the tension, your mouth, when you spoke every time with that soft raspy voice of yours, your cheeks that would turn pink when he said something that he shouldn’t or..your long neck, looking so soft and pretty, your uncovered collarbone that was slightly revealed, almost like inviting him to kiss it and then all the way down to your whole body.
The way your shirt marked slightly your boobs enogh to see the figure, your crossed legs that were tight in your thighs and he tought that surely in your pussy too.
“Toji..eyes up here” you said when you realised that he was so immerse in admiring you.
You raised an eyebrow and stood up, pissed off.
“We can’t have never a serious conversation, this is so annoying” you snapped turning away and heading to the kitchen.
The tension between the two of you was thick enough to choke on, a physical weight that followed you from the living room into the kitchen. You began rummaging through the fridge, your movements sharp and jerky, fueled by a mix of genuine annoyance and the fluttering heat he always managed to stir up. Toji followed you with his presence, looming behind you like a with hunger, clearly amused by the situation.
“Do you even listen to me?” you snapped, spinning around with a container of leftovers held against your chest like a shield.
“I’m serious, Toji. Calling me that in front of everyone, it’s embarrassing…You can’t just mark your territory whenever you feel like it and expect me to just roll with it…”
You looked at him with your soft doe eyes, not intending to do nothing or to make him feel nothing but that was you gaze always you and him had an argument that eventually made him fold, every time.
He didn't answer immediately, instead, he leaned against the counter with his large frame dwarfing the space. His eyes wandered on your face, tracing the line of your throat and the way your pulse jumped beneath the skin….He reached out, his calloused thumb hooking into the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you just an inch closer.
“I hear you, ma” he rumbled, his voice dropping into that low, raspy register that made your knees weak. “I know you’re mad, you don’t like it, yes I get it.” His hands wrapped slightly your waist looking down at you, while he slowly brushed his thumb on the edge of your jeans.
“No, see you don’t get it!” you huffed, trying to push his hand away, but he simply caught your wrist, his grip firm but maddeningly gentle. He slowly stepped into your space, his scent..sharp and masculine was overwhelming your senses.
“See you’re doing it right now! You’re zoning out, you’re looking at me like I’m... like I’m a snack…while I’m trying to have a mature conversation!” You raised your voice enough to show how angry and frustrated the situation made you.
Toji let out a soft, dark chuckle, his free hand coming up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on the sensitive skin of your neck. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Hard to focus on the words when you look like this. All flushed and feisty. It’s cute, I like it kitten..”
That nickname was the breaking point. Your temper flared, a bright spark of indignation that finally overrode the desire. You shoved against his chest with all your might, your voice rising. “Stop it! I am not your ‘kitten’ right now, and I’m not 'cute'! I’m a grown woman telling you that you embarrassed me, and if you can’t take me seriously for five minutes, then maybe you should just leave!”
You never meant actually that he left or something similar but Toji beating honey while you are arguing was pushing your buttons and getting on your nerves, and even if you didn’t want to admit it you loved it but you couldn’t accept that behaviour, he could get always his way out of the argument by kissing you, you needed to show him that somethings needed to change, right?
The air in the kitchen shifted instantly. The amused glint in Toji’s eyes vanished and were replaced by something dark, intense, and utterly feral. He didn't back away instead he surged forward, his hands finding your waist and hoisting you up onto the cold granite counter before you could even gasp. He caged you in, his body pressing firmly against yours, his face inches from your own.
“You think that I don’t take you seriously?” he growled, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. His breathing was heavy, ragged. The cocky facade had crumbled, leaving behind a raw, desperate hunger. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m a selfish bastard and I wanted them to know you’re mine…but c’mon you looked so hot and urghhh the way you looked at me when I said it fuck baby, how could I not want to say those things out loud of the reaction you make turns me on every time but you’re right…I shouldn't have done it if it hurt you”
He trailed a row of hot, stinging kisses down the side of your neck, his voice cracking slightly. “Don't tell me to leave. Please. I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just don’t look at me like you hate me.. like I’m the worst boyfriend ever, I cant..I cant stand it..”
He looked you at the eyes, ful of need and desire as well as worry, worried to lose you with his dumb behaviour, worried that this time was too much.
You tried to maintain your resolve, your hands still balled into fists against his shoulders, but the way he was vibrating with need, fuck..the way he was practically begging for your forgiveness while simultaneously dominating your space..was shattering your defenses piece by piece.
You were frustrated and you were still a little bit angry, but as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, your head fell back, and your fingers involuntarily tangled into his dark hair.
“Toji…” you murmured between silent gasps while you closed your eyes at his touch.
He kept kissing you all the way down to your uncovered collarbone making you leave a soft whimper out of your mouth, his kisses were slow , delicate but passionate.
The cold granite of the kitchen counter bit into the backs of your thighs, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat of Toji’s body pressing into yours. Your hands were still flat against his chest, feeling the heavy, erratic thrum of his heart through the thin fabric of his black shirt. You wanted to finish the sentence, to tell him that a "sorry" didn't immediately erase the frustration of being infantalized in front of his friends, but the words died in your throat as he kissed you.
He stopped and looked at you, really looked with a smirk, he didn’t plan to rush. That was the most agonizing part. His large hands slid from your waist, his palms dragging slowly upward until they tucked under the hem of your baggy white shirt, his calloused skin grazing your ribs. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his breath ghosting over your lips.
"I’m listening now, ma" he murmured, though his eyes were fixed on your mouth with a hunger that made your head spin. "Tell me more about how much you hated it."
"Toji-" you started, your voice hitching as he finally pressed his lips to yours.
It wasn't a demanding kiss, not yet. It was soft, tentative, and maddeningly slow. He tasted of mint and lingering heat, his tongue just barely tracing the seam of your lips before pulling back, making you chase the contact. Every time you tried to gather your thoughts to bring the conversation back to the kitchen, he would shift his weight, the rough fabric of his sweatpants frictioning against your denim-clad legs, sending a jolt of overstimulation straight to your pussy.
"You... you can't just...urghh Toji…" you tried again, but he moved back to the sensitive dip of your collarbone, trailing now wet, agonizingly slow kisses along the skin your shirt had left exposed.
Your fingers, which had been meant to push him away, instead curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The sensory input was becoming too much…the smell of him, the firm pressure of his thighs bracketed between yours, and the low, vibrating hum he made against your skin. You felt your resolve crumbling into a hazy, shimmering mess. You were supposed to be the one standing your ground, but as he moved back to your lips, deeper and more insistent this time, the argument felt like a distant echo, your brain couldn’t gather back the information to argue again, it was blank.
"Still mad?" he whispered against your mouth, he locked down at his thumb tracing the curve of your hip in a way that made your breath hitch. He looked back up at you, his eyes dark and hooded, waiting for you to find the strength to say no.
“No..I mean..yes..arghh fuck Toji you can’t just urghh” you were frustrated you wanted him to keep apologising and actually see that it was wrong not because you asked him to but damn he knew how to make you fold in seconds.
“Yes? No?” He let out a soft dark chuckle at your indecisiveness and looked at you, with his dark black eyes. “Kitten you need to choose”
Fuck he loved it and you knew that, all the times you got flustered he knew you couldn’t think straight so he always teased you with that.
“I just…fuck Toji you need to make it up to me” you finally said almost murmuring, the way his hands were all over your body, his lips almost kissing your as he looked straight into your eyes making you forget about the argument.
“Hmmm making up to you kitten?” He smiled and slide his hands all the way up to the sides of your torso , slowly caressing your cold skin with his warm hands. “How do you want me to make it up to you baby? You want me to be your dog?”
He said that like it was nothing, but it made your spine shiver, be your dog, mmm, damn it sounded nice. Well is true that you said it before but just because you were angry at him calling you kitten, you didn’t meant it in a serious way or did you?
You struggled to answer his question, only looking down at him as he got on his knees, he didn’t even wait for your answer, almost like knocking you couldn’t find one.
His hands trailing all the ways down from you neck to the edge of your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them “let me show you how good of a dog I can be for you, kitten” he affirmed in his raspy sexy voice like it was nothing.
It was crazy how he could be so eager to be saying crazy things like that and still sound like the dominant one.
You helped yourself by lifting your legs a so he could pull out your tight jeans, revealing your bare thighs and your white lace panties that for nobody’s surprise were already wet from all this tease.
He chuckled clearly pleased by the job he has done, but yet wasn’t finished. He played with the waistband of your panties, making you shiver and gasp. Then he slowly lifted up your leg and placed wet kisses on your feet slowly heading up to your inner thighs as he switched between kisses and licks.
“Fuck all wet for me huh? And then you ask me not to argue with you all the time, but damn baby if you end up all this wet I can’t help myself..” his fingers slowly ripped off your panties, letting out your wet pussy.
He unashamedly licked his lips and cursed under his breath as he admired his favourite meal.
You gasped as he slowly lifted both of your legs and placed them on his shoulder for better access.
He slowly licked one thigh and then the other all the way to your inner lips and kissed them.
“Fuck Toji” you mumbled, all the time he was taking you knew he was teasing you but fuck you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him down there fucking licking your pussy.
He slightly laughed as he kept teasing you while he kissed your clit.
“Use your words ma, all that talk is gone or what? And take off that shirt” He looked up at you, grabbing the edge of the counter, aching your back for him while you looked down at him needy for his mouth, you did as he said at took off your shirt leaving you in your matched white lingerie, pushing up your boobs.
“Fuck you toji, I need- arghhhh…” before you could even use your words as he says he starts licking your pussy up and down like a dog licking the face of his owner.
“Hmmm? You need what kitten?” He said looking up at you struggling to find the words ask his fingers press down into your clit making you moan.
Oh, moan, that sound was like heaven for him, you moaning they was the thing he needed to hear from you, it broke him completely and centrally it betrayed his plans on testing you till you come, because his huge bulge was harder than ever, growing every time he heard a sound of your moans or whimpers making him really pain full to stay with his sweatpants on.
“Fuck ma…don’t do that again or ima-” he mumbled, his fingers still playing with your clit but his gaze now focused on his big dick.
You looked down at his dick and let out a soft chuckle mixed with a moan “Agh and then it’s me the needy one huh?” You ran your fingers all over his black locks, grabbing onto them.
He pulled out his big bundle not wanting to hold on anymore “I’m a show you how a big dawg eats kitten” he lets out in a low raspy voice before diving into your wet pussy.
His other hand goes up to your tits and grabbed one of them, you quickly take off your bra as you understood his sign. He played with your hardened nipple while he devoted your pussy fucking you with his tongue and making you whimper, and moan his name.
The way he was eating you out was driving you insane and the thought that his dick was already in pre cum made you way more wet.
He was trying to control himself but he couldn’t anymore not when you moaned like that “fuck toji that’s why you are my fucking dog, please make me cum yes..yes..” he eagerly licked you faster inserting his both fingers to stretch you out more.
He pulled away and put his fingers on your wide open mouth to lick its for him.
You gladly did licking his fingers imagining his cock, twirling your tongue enough to make him roll his eyes back as he pulled out slowly.
“Kitten I fuck- I need you.. I need to be inside this pussy baby” his voice was low but almost begging, his dick was hard enough to making him not able to think anymore to the point it hurt him so much. As he ate your pussy he needed so much to fuck you.
You licked you lips and let out a soft moan “yes please Toji I want it so bad too” you dropped one of your legs so he could gain better access.
He let out a soft groan as he slowly inserted his big dick inside of you making you moan loud his name, with that only led him to push forward completely.
“Fuck baby your so tight , is going to make me cum so fast ahh” he groaned as you softly leaned down in the empty counter of the kitchen while he grabbed both of your tits making you whimper.
“To-to-toji…arghhhh fuck yes cum inside of me..” you whimpered closing your eyes as you could only focus on the pleasure he was giving to you, overwhelmed by his huge dick.
“Yes kitten keep moaning for me” he moaned against your ear as his thrusts became more faster and harder, both of you could feel that you were getting close and when you opened your mouth to moan he closed it with a hungry kiss, playing with your tongue.
All this overstimulation made you cum, and that made him cum right after, filling your tight walls with his white glossy juices.
“Fuck ma, I love you so much” he whispered on your ear as he lets go of your tits where he left his hand marks, and getting up to see the view of you.
You were clenching, twitching and your legs were shaky, you tits covered with the mats of the grip of his hands and your neck covered with hickeys, oh fuck he loved it, he loved this, you looked so weak and fragile and at the same time rough and strong.
You kept whimpering and when you opened your eyes you saw him with a smirk admiring your body, you couldn’t even think about it since his cock was still twitching inside of you.
“Toji…mmmh fuck” you gathered to say weakly trying to sit with your elbows.
“Shhh ma, it’s okey let me take care of you kitten, so now that I showed you how a dog behave I expect from you next time the same” he whispers in your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your temple as he pulled out his dick from your pussy that was leaking both of your juices.
He kneeled down and let a soft kiss on your pussy tasting your juice as weak as his, then he proudly stood up caressing your shaky legs and lifted you up in bridal style.
The air in the hallway is quiet, the only sound the soft padding of Toji’s footsteps as he carries you. He holds you with a steady, effortless strength, ensuring you feel completely secure in his arms. When you reach the room, he doesn’t just set you down, he gently places you onto the center of the bed as if you are made of the finest porcelain.
As he pulls back, he notices how your body still shakes and the way your breath hitches, a lingering adrenaline that leaves you tremebeling and fragile. Toji’s expression softens instantly, his usual composure melting into something deeply tender.
He leans next to you and he makes your head rest on his chest and his big arm wraps your body pulling you closer to him and reaches for a soft throw blanket covering both of you as he leaves a soft kiss on your lips before leaning on the mattress.
He caresses your back slowly, while you still trying to calm down your heavy breath overwhelmed by all that pleasure he made you feel. You closed your eyes while your hands were slightly pressed on his chest next to your face.
Neither of you spoke for 3 minutes, calling the ambience, then Toji calmly moved away a piece of hair off your face and whispered slowly “ma.. are you awake..?”
You softly nod “hmm what?”
“I’m sorry ma…like really sorry you know how I get with you..how turned on I get..” he said calmly.
He finally said what you wanted to hear the whole night, you didn’t move you didn’t say anything you waited him to finish.
“I won’t do it again kitten, because I don’t wanna lose you..” he left a soft kiss on top of your head while his other arm wrapped your whole body, grabbing you like if you were going to disappear.
“It’s okey, thank you baby..” you didn’t answered with a small smile in your face as you felt his warm body, covering your delicate and soft body.
He hums before giving you another kiss on your temple and before you could even realise you’ve fallen asleep on his arms, all cuddled up.
“I love you ma, so much…” he whispered at you slowly before he let his head rest on your hair and fall asleep with you.
———————————————————————
I hope y’all enjoyed!!! I recently just started to write over here so I would love any suggestions!!!🩷
i’m gonna tweak out so bad. I was writing a draft, went off the app for two seconds, came back on and it didn’t save any of the new stuff I wrote and put it back in my drafts 🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️
Choso x f reader, jealousy, silent treatment, begging, teasing, p eating, fingering, fucking, aftercare
“Princess?”
He walked in the room you shared, seeing you sat on your chair facing the desk while scrolling on your phone careless.
You didn’t answer, not because you didn’t heard him, indeed you did but because you were mad at him.
You didn’t stand the fact that a lot of girls had a crush on him.
And the way he laughed sometimes not at their jokes but at the way you looked bothered.
Making him feel things in his chest..you hated the fact that he enjoyed making you jealous and acted all innocent after.
“Baby please talk to me…”
He closed the door behind him walking towards you, hands on his pocket.
He slowly turned your chair around, forcing you to face him.
“Princess please..”
Seeing that he wasn't getting any reaction from you and that you weren't answering either, all glued on the screen, made him snap.
He gently grabbed your chin and made you look into his eyes.
“Darling, I don’t like this treatment, I’m begging you, please talk to me”
You could see it in his eyes, he was indeed begging, all needy for you, he wanted all of your attention, all of you.
But you didn’t answer, your gaze locked in his, no reaction.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he got in his knees begging for you, looking all feral, his watery eyes locked on yours while his hand caressed your legs.
That tiny short you were wearing, the big shirt you had on, that actually was his, and your messy bun made him hard.
He couldn’t stand the thought of not having you tonight, he needed you, all of you, your attention, your hugs, your kisses, your lips, your moans, your pussy…
“Baby…I’m on my knees, I’m begging you..”
Hands still caressing your bare legs, making you shiver and eventually making you break your attitude.
“Choso..”
The way he touched you, the way he locked at you like you were his oxygen and he was dying, the way he begged for your attention, for you. Oh fuck you couldn’t take it anymore, yes you were angry but how you were going to reject him, your beautiful boyfriend begging for you.
“Yes princess?”
He looked up at you, hands still moving up and down in your thighs.
You let out a soft sigh before letting the phone in the desk behind you. You looked back at him, while he was touching you thighs, massaging them.
“I don’t like all those girls around you”
He let out a small chuckle, making him smirk and look down and up at you.
“Hmmm, princess are you jealous? thats why you haven’t talking to me?”
His smirk grew on his face, oh now he was more turned on, the fact that you did all of this only because you were jealous… something about that made his cock hard.
You looked away, you were angry at him, frustrated, you couldn’t take it.
His hands roaming all over your legs, his smirk and the tone of his voice while taking to you
oh gosh, you were turned on..
You didn’t want to, you hated it so much, the fact that with simple things he could break off your anger and make you scream his name and instead out of anger, out of pleasure.
You didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign but you didn’t want to know actually, you only kept thinking about the way he looked at you with his cocky smile.
“Tch…and I will keep ignoring you if you don’t-“
Before you could even finished he grabbed your neck pulling you down at him, making you kiss him.
He wrapped you into a passionate kiss, leaving you without any breathing.
You pulled out to breathe, now you were fully turned on. Your eyes fulled of hunger.
“ch..choso..”
You looked down at him while slowly he opened your legs wide.
“Shhh.. princess, I only want you”
He slowly grabbed the edge of your shorts, pulling them down exposing your wet panties.
“Hmmm all wet for me huh?”
You gasped, your cheeks were red, so frustrated that you looked away.
“Shut up..”
He chuckled and started to tease your covered pussy, slowly with this fingers.
He was playing with it, while your pussy slowly soaked your panties.
Oh he knew how to tease you, to make you go crazy. His fingers were going up and down in your clit, making you whimper his name.
“Ohh fuck choso…mghhhh”
You shut your eyes, leaning back in your chair as he took off your panties.
He was way more patient than before, he enjoyed the view, the way you closed you eyes and bite your lip trying to not to let your whimpers out loud, the way your legs twitched at his touch and the feeling of you wet pussy on his fingers.
Oh he loved all of this, he fucking loved your pussy, all wet for him and indeed this was making his dick hard, and growing harder with each moan you did.
“Oh princess, mhhh fuck..”
He murmured before he launched himself to eat you out without any warning making you gasp and moan at the same time.
You grabbed his hair as he eat you out, his tongue was fucking your pussy, licking, sucking so fast that made you squirm.
“Oooh mrghhhh c..cho- argh”
You were in ecstasy, the way he eats you out every time it’s like heaven.
His hands were on your thighs forcing you to open more for better access.
He was enjoying his meal, sucking all of you.
“Ohh fuck princess..cum for me..”
He begged you before inserting two fingers inside of you while he sucked feel your clit.
His fingers were making you vibrate, the way he moved them inside of you, already reached the g point making you moan his name.
“Yes princes, c’mon, I’m begging you I want taste you..”
He fingered you faster while teasing your clit with his tongue, he could feel you getting close, you were about to cum on his hand…
He took out his fingers before you came, covering all you pussy with his mouth to lick you and drink you all.
“Mmmhhh yes fuck thats my girl..mhhhh”
He murmured against you pussy after licking all the juice left on your clit.
You were whimpering, you looked down at him releasing the grip of his hair.
“Choso…”
You murmured while he took off his pants and boxers, revealing his hard veiny cock.
He easily lifted you up, making your legs wrap around his waist as he inserted his big cock inside of you.
“Oh fuck your so tight mhhh..”
He took off the shirt you were wearing, revealing your tits for him, and you hard nipples.
He licked your tits before kissing you.
“Mhhh”
He whimpered and slowly laid you down in the bed, as he started thrusting you he grabbed your tits teasing your nipples with this thumb.
He knew how to please you, you were moaning and whimpering for him, screaming his name as he fucked you hard, his dick big and long enough to make you cry for him.
“Mmmh yes ah- ah-”
With each thrust you got closer to cum again, it felt so good his dick inside of you while he played with your tits.
If didn’t took long before he filled your pussy, making you squirm and come right after.
He did a last thrust, hard while he moaned your name before pulling out his dick.
Your hole was leaking both of your liquids, he placed this fingers inside of you to keep it all inside and licking the rest that soaked your thighs and pussy.
“Mhhh fuck baby..”
He murmured against your skin while letting out soft whimpers.
Before you could even say something he took out his fingers and put them inside your wide mouth open making you suck them, tasting both your and his cum.
Your legs were shaking and your eyes rolled back as you sucked his fingers still overwhelmed by the sensations.
He pulled out his fingers and layed next to you pulling you closer and kissing you, his tongue playing with yours.
After some minutes he pulled out and left a soft kiss on your temple while he moved a piece of hair out of your face.
“Mmh princess, you did so well, I fucking love you so much”
He pulled you closer as he wrapped your arms around you, as if he could lose you or something.
You looked up at him, tired,so tired that you looked like you were about to pass away.
“But choso…”
You whispered, your sweet tired voice, made his heart melt.
“Yes princess I know, I promise you it won’t happen again..”
He made your head rest on his chest while slowly caressing your back as he pulled the blanket on both of you, covering you up.
You nod and hug him, making yourself confortable to rest after all that workout.
“I love you princess”
He murmured against your hair.
“Me too, choso, me too..”
You said before your eyes finally shut down, immersing yourself into a deep, profound and peaceful sleep in his arms.
I personally think Choso can do both, be a submissive guy and dominate you, I mean this guy… 🤭
I need a nanami x reader x erwin where they both try to get along to please the reader but even with their politeness you can see their annoyance between them and the “rivalry” they have to get you. Like even when they work together to please you and make you happy they still get jealous type thing