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cobaltperun · 2 days

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Genius (5) - Supermassive Black Hole

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part

Word count: 4.3k

-I thought I was a fool for no one, ooh baby, I'm a fool for you-

Why did she push you away when you were kids? She thought that would make her parents love her, that being more like them would make them proud of her, make them pay attention to her. Eleven-year-old Cairo wanted their love so desperately she decided to push away what she had to try and obtain what she might get. Why did that… why did that sound familiar all of a sudden?

But she couldn’t tell you any of that, not because she couldn’t admit it to herself, no, she could, she understood why she did it. She didn’t want to admit it to you. Because, sure, she could tell you the reason, but you might ask for more, and then she might have to tell you that you were on her mind all these years. That she missed you so much, that she wanted to see you. And then what? What realization would she have to face if she gave you the answer you sought? So, she remained silent, masking the apology she wanted to utter with defiance in her eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” you gave up, sighing out of frustration and just walked away. You walked away from her this time, and she felt like an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, threatening to pop it like a balloon.

But she didn’t call out to you, she didn’t say anything, she just watched you go.

~X~

She couldn’t focus that night, not on writing, not on anything Winnie was saying, she was just lost in her own thoughts. None of them made sense, there wasn’t any order, or logic to them, they were random, unorganized, and she hated it.

“What’s on your mind?” Winnie’s voice eventually did reach her, not quite piercing through the chaos of thoughts in her head, but it did reach her.

“Nothing,” she sighed, trying to focus on the girl. “Everything. I don’t know,” it felt like her mind was pulling quotes from dozens of books at the same time, mixing them together and creating a mess she couldn’t make sense of.

Winnie pupped the lollipop out of her mouth with a resounding pop. “Is it Mr. Miller? You’ve spent some time with him now, how’s the seduction going?”

Cairo remained silent. A lingering meaningful gaze here, not moving her hand when he occasionally put his hand on it. Leaning in just a bit closer than necessary when he lit her cigarette. It was a dance, on that felt forbidden, and she could see the shift in his own eyes. He was looking at her, nothing vulgar quite yet, but he was looking.

“It’s. going,” she chose not to share more than that, she started it, she wasn’t a coward, she would finish it.

Winnie remained silent. “You don’t look happy about that. Is it Y/N?”

Winnie was being too perceptive, but Cairo imagined she wasn’t doing a good job hiding it, as she felt the corners of her mouth twisting downward at the mention of you.

“Do you like her?” Winnie persisted, getting up from her spot on Cairo’s bed and moving to sit next to her. “Cairo, if you want her you need to stop what you’re doing with Mr. Miller,” she didn’t even wait for confirmation.

“Weren’t you the one talking about wagyu beef? Older men harvesting virginity and all that?” and now she was telling Cairo to give up on Miller and go to you?

Winnie rolled her eyes. “That was different, that was before I realized you had a thing for biker girls,” Winnie tried to joke, to nudge her and get her to laugh or at least smile. “Okay, one biker girl, the point stands, I you want her, like really want her just go for her. Forget wagyu beef.”

Did she want you? Was that what she wanted to turn your relationship into? And if it didn’t work out where would that leave your friendship? Did the fact that he noticed her more than anyone else ever did really mean so little? Now that everything was moving, when all he likely needed was just the right circumstances?

“Cairo, this is changing you,” Winnie kept talking, trying to stop what she set in motion unknowingly filling Cairo’s head with thoughts that weren’t there before, the thoughts of her first time not being painful, the idea that she could get that with someone older, and now she was trying to take it back.

“It is changing me,” she admitted, and she knew she was changing, she had the idea she now desired, a madman’s love, a love so passionate it could not be contained, a love so strong it would bring her to ruin, a love that would eclipse any other she felt or would ever feel.

Winnie grabbed Cairo’s phone and before Cairo could even register what was going on Winnie had unlocked it. “What are you doing?” Cairo demanded, getting up to go after Winnie as she began pacing around the room.

“Getting Y/N’s number.”

“Stop it,” Cairo demanded, grabbing Winnie’s forearm just as she sent the number to herself.

Winnie’s eyes widened and for a moment Cairo wondered how mad did she have to look to make Winnie look at her like she was now. Worried, and even a bit afraid.

“Don’t you dare call or text her,” she ordered, her voice shaking as she did. Winnie couldn’t contact you, she just couldn’t. She wasn’t allowed to.

“Okay, I won’t,” she relented and Cairo finally let go of her forearm and snatched her phone.

Cairo started all of this. She was seducing her teacher. She was going to experience something, she was going to get her madman’s love.

~X~

Another Monday, another shitty way to start your week with Miller’s damn class.

“Censorship creates a vicious cycle, we’re taught from young age to accept certain norms, the rights and wrongs of society. It’s the death of writer’s ideas, and thus the reader’s ideas as well. It’s taking away the freedom of thought and speech,” he droned on, stopping by Cairo, the back of his hand brushing against her arm.

“They are separate,” you spoke without raising your hand, and he took a few steps back to take a look at you.

“Not to a writer, to a writer the thoughts become words on the page, they are given a form, and not in this context. When we are taught from young age how to think it becomes intricately connected to the way we express ourselves,” he explained his reasoning and you felt Cairo’s eyes on you.

“Thoughts are private, we cannot be held accountable for thinking, it is the absolute freedom that cannot be taken away, precisely because no one can be sure of what we think. Speech is, as you said, a thought that’s given a form, written, spoken, or expressed in another way. It is a right, and a responsibility,” you leaned forward, your hands resting on the desk, open, relaxed, you had no need to move them.

“To conform to the norms of society?” he challenged, and you gave him a hollow laugh, turning away from both him and Cairo for a moment.

You looked back at him, eyes filled with fierce defiance. “Please, if that was the case you’d be teaching a much smaller class. The society is meant to be critically observed, changed in response to injustice,” you stated.

“And thus, censorship should be seen as an issue, because it is used to cover the injustices,” Miller leaned back against the table. “Just think of how many women had to publish their works under a pseudonym, or how often works that even implied anything outside of societal norms had to be edited to conform to those norms.”

“You are equating rights of entire groups with ideals of a bygone era?” you raised an eyebrow, hardly believing what you were hearing.

He raised his hand in defense. “Certainly not, but-“ he paused, collecting his thoughts. “But, censoring of those ideals of the, as you said, miss L/N, bygone era, takes away our ability to judge them for ourselves. To start a conversation.”

“So, your idea is mere discussion?” you held back a laugh.

“Of course,” he had the guts to say after how he’s been acting with Cairo.

“Yet every idea, no matter how pure, taken to an extreme can be twisted, corrupted until the very basics of what made it good no longer apply, and such corruption needs to be removed,” you weren’t backing away, you ignored the looks of the handful of students that got interested in the conversation, you ignored Cairo’s piercing gaze.

“Every? Freedom of speech included?” he asked. “It has been said that one man’s vulgarity is another’s lyric. And it is one of the highest forms of hubris to assume one person gets to decide what it right and wrong and enforce it on others,” he crossed his arms over his chest, shielding himself once more.

“You sure you have the right to speak of that? Teacher?” you bit your tongue, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you.

The tension in the classroom rose to nearly unbearable, his defensive posture, his eyes, filled with surprise at being all but accused, wandering from you to Cairo

The bell rang breaking the tension and making the students get up to leave. You collected your things and stepped outside, sighing as you did so.

“Y/N,” a fairly cute, blonde girl you shared a couple more classes with, Emily, called out to you and quickly caught up with you before you could get out of the class. She held a pencil you let her borrow on Friday in her hand. Oh, you actually forgot about it. “Here, thanks again for letting me borrow it,” she smiled a bit shyly at you and tucked a strand of her hair back.

You smiled back and took the pencil. “Don’t mention it, Emily,” you put the pencil inside your bag.

“We’re heading in the same direction, wanna go together?” the girl offered, and you shrugged, seeing no harm in doing so.

“Sure,” she was nice and you had no reason to be hostile toward her.

~X~

“Keep glaring and you’ll make her combust,” Winnie teased as Cairo glared at the girl as she was walking away from the classroom.

“If only,” she grumbled, annoyed. Who did that girl think she was, taking your attention after what happened in the class.

“Cairo, could you come by after classes?” she heard Miller asking once only her and Winnie could hear him.

Cairo looked inside, to where you just sat and narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I made plans,” she decided, she certainly wasn’t in the mood to play any seduction games.

He looked surprised. “Right, of course,” he stammered and Cairo just nodded her goodbye. The blonde girl was no longer in her line of sight when she turned once again.

“You’re so jealous,” Winnie laughed, and that was the last drop, she made her way outside the school, ignoring Winnie’s protests.

She wasn’t jealous. What did she have to be jealous of? A blonde that met you maybe a month ago? As if that could compare to what you and Cairo had. The key word was had, as her brain cruelly reminded her. You no longer had that. Without thinking much, she dropped her things off at her house and went into the forest to clear her mind.

What were you thinking? Speaking like that in the class? What made you speak up for the first time in Miller’s class and well, that was one way to speak up for the first time. Ideals of a bygone era. She figured she was seduced by them. By Winnie’s talk of older man harvesting virginity. It wasn’t just that though. It all went back to madman’s love, for how mad would someone her age have to be to love in such a way.

Was it the way Miller touched her that made you react? It was just a brush of the back of his hand, intentional, no doubt, as it remained there, but by now she was used to the closeness. They sat side by side on the bench smoking, and it was certainly physically closer than just the back of his hand. But it still, maybe set you off, just like his attempt to hold her hand did last week.

And then, as she walked, as she went deeper into the forest, as she went to the exact same place where the rose bush she found all those years ago grew and was crushed was, as she went to the place she didn’t go to in years, she froze. Again. a rose bush. Again, an old tree fallen over it.

It was happening again, the same image, the same scene, the same outcome, haunting her, repeating again and again and driving her into madness. She had no one this time. Not one person who could drag her away. Alone. Meant to be crushed like the lone rose bush in the forest. Meant to be crushed by the old, by her parents, her teachers, her village, suffocating in a place fit only for ghosts, an unforgiving place that refused to let anyone be different. To be crushed by the place she was abandoned in and the people in it.

Her nails dug into the dirt beneath her, and she just now noticed she dropped to her knees down to the harsh forest floor. Maybe she should just stay there. She felt too weak to get up anyway, too dizzy and numb at the same time, her breathing too erratic, uneven, panicked. Yet all she could focus on was the scene that kept repeating.

~X~

You were finally close to the end of Verne’s book, just another ten or so pages, but you felt sleepy, and the rain softly falling wasn’t helping you stay awake. Your phone suddenly buzzed, breaking your concentration and making you groan as you leaned your head back. Whoever was calling you wasn’t giving up, that was for sure. So, to spare both you and the caller you grabbed your phone, noticed it was a number you didn’t recognize, and picked up.

“Hello?” you said.

“Hey, is Cairo with you?” it took you a moment, but you recognized it was Winnie, her voice laced with worry and clearly on the verge of panic.

You immediately sat up. “No. Why?” you asked, you didn’t have a reason to worry just yet. Maybe she just got too into one of her books.

“I’m at her place, it’s unlocked, her bag is here, but she’s nowhere to be found, and we were supposed to hangout tonight," Winnie told you and you could hear her pacing around.

“Okay, okay, just calm down. Let’s just go and look for her, do you want the forest or the village?” you were grabbing your biker jacket, since it was waterproof, as well as the keys of your house and already heading outside.

“The village, and thanks, I appreciate this,” Winnie said.

“Of course. Call if you find her before me,” you said and when she agreed you hung up and tucked your phone into your pocket and ran into the forest. You had to hurry, it was getting dark, and the rain made the ground slippery, the more it took you to cover the forest the higher the chances of getting injured, or plain and simple lost would be. So, you ran, as carefully as you could through the forest, yelling Cairo’s name.

‘Where are you?’ you shouldn’t have parted the way you did. ‘Why can’t you answer your phone?’ you should have tried harder to get to her. ‘Are you okay?’

“Cairo!” you shouted as loud as you possibly could, your yell getting swallowed by the trees and the rain.

Somehow, for the reason you couldn’t explain, you remembered her sob from all those years ago, you remembered that sound, the reason for her sorrow back then, that tree and the bush of wild roses and you just took off, running in that direction as if somehow drawn to that location.

~X~

Her body trembled, physically she felt cold, but deep down she didn’t feel anything. Her body felt like nothing, like the least important part of her, like it no longer mattered what happened to it. Her mind and soul were what was important, and the rain couldn’t hit those. The loneliness did, however. It froze her mind and soul in a way cold rain and the darkness that slowly consumed everything around her could never accomplish.

She desired a madman’s love, the ruins of it, the decay, she desired to be entirely consumed by it, yet here she was, not only without a madman’s love, but without love in general.

“Cairo!” her mind must have been playing tricks with her, she heard you shouting her name, and that just couldn’t be true. Why would you be there?

“Cairo!” this time it was closer, and her eyes widened as she caught glimpse of you in the distance, just narrowly missing her. Another old tree, just waiting to fall between you two.

“Y/N!” she cried out, calling after you and trying to get up, but her legs had gotten too numb to get up so abruptly and she stumbled, digging her palms into the muddy ground beneath her. There was no way you heard her, you were too far, you just narrowly missed her, she was once again too late to reach out to you.

Same mistakes. Same haunting images. Everything was happening again.

“Cairo,” she heard footsteps, running toward her and raised her hand, seeing you, your hair and face wet from the rain, water dripping from your jacket and relief washing over your expression. “Are you okay?” you ran up to her and without a moment of hesitation grabbed her shoulders, pushing her up slightly and looking her over. “Cairo, hey, hey, answer me!” your gloved fingers moved her hair from her face and she couldn’t take it anymore, she just fell into your arms, hugging you and clinging to you. She took several deep breaths, finally feeling like she could properly breathe.

“How did you know?” she asked, judging by how wet your hair was you were out for a while.

“Winnie called me,” you whispered as you softly rubbed circles on her back. “Give me a second,” you pushed her away for a moment and she felt what little warmth she regained fading away. You took your jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

“Y/N, wait,” she tried to argue, she didn’t want to let you get a cold, but you just pressed a finger over her lips.

“Don’t argue. Can you walk?” you asked as you helped her get back on her feet.

Cairo nodded, this was already enough, you were already doing more than she could have asked for, but even as she began walking back home you kept her close, supporting her and holding up some of her weight as she leaned onto you for support.

And then, just as the two of you got twenty feet away from where Cairo was kneeling, a lightning struck the old tree and both of you flinched as it cracked and fell, right to where you and Cairo just were. You just saved her life, because there was no way she would have moved if you didn’t arrive.

She felt you freezing and she wondered what was going through your mind. Did you realize what would have happened to her if you were even a minute late, and in the way you pulled her closer she felt that you did think of that scenario just now. Of finding her underneath a fallen tree.

~X~

You called Winnie to tell her you found Cairo and that you brought her back home as she was taking a warm shower. You considered leaving, but maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Cairo on her own right now, so, you stayed, a towel you borrowed from Cairo hanging from your neck. You needed to change, but you weren’t sure you could go back home and come back here before Cairo was done.

You were waiting in her room and you noticed how much darker it got, less light seeped through the windows than when she was a child. Well, people changed, and you guessed seven years was a long time. As you sat on the chair you brought up from the kitchen and waited you caught sight of a familiar book. ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ sat on the table next to a book written by Henry Miller, ‘Under the Roofs of Paris’ the duality of those choices didn’t escape you, but you didn’t move, you weren’t about to stoop to Miller’s level and look through Cairo’s stuff.

A few minutes later, she came out, dressed in her pajamas and with a towel around her head. “You should change,” she noticed now that the shower cleared her thoughts a bit. “And take a shower, the rain was dirty,” she said it as if she expected you to do it at her house.

“I will, I just wanted to check if you were okay and I’ll leave,” you told her, already getting up. She looked fine now, but you still looked her over, you didn’t notice anything wrong, any injury or anything that she needed help with.

“Do it here? Please, you were out looking for me, and the rain is falling even harder now,” at least the part about the rain was true, the weather was getting worse. “I’ll find some clothes that fit you,” she promised, and you nodded with a sigh.

“Okay,” you saw her smile and you couldn’t argue anymore.

When you stepped into the shower you just let the water wash over you, to erase the image of the tree falling right where Cairo was, to wash away the worry and fear as you ran through the forest, desperately looking for her. Everything turned out fine, in the end and you found yourself no longer caring about the answer to your question.

It no longer mattered why Cairo pushed you away, what was happening now mattered much more, and you weren’t going to waste it just because she didn’t want to give you your answer.

When you stepped outside in the shirt and trousers she gave you that were a bit too big for her, you saw her already in her bed, and she turned to look at you, her still slightly damp hair sticking to her skin. “Hey, how are you doing?” you approached her and knelt next to her, only now realizing how stupidly tall her bed was.

Cairo looked at your hand, resting on the edge of her bed and then at your eyes. “Better now. Thank you for looking for me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t thank me for that, you asshole. I’ll scold you properly later,” you promised, luring out another smile from her.

“Do you want to read together?” she asked, moving to the side as if offering her bed to you.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision, but you nodded, getting in the bed next to her and getting comfortable as she opened the book that somehow became the most tangible reminder of your past. You settled down and took a deep breath, and you realized your mistake, as Cairo’s scent invaded your senses.

“Can I start?” she asked and you nodded, focusing only on her voice as she began reading the book.

~X~

Cairo woke up around noon, alone in her room, and more importantly, she missed school. Almost two whole days, that was strange for her, yet she doubted anyone would notice. She wondered when you left, well, she woke up when you got up this morning. The two of you fell asleep about two-thirds into the book. Nothing happened during the night, neither of you subconsciously moved like books so often depicted, she didn’t wake up tangled up with you, or holding your hand, or anything. You just happened to sleep three feet apart because her bed was so ridiculously big.

She stretched a bit and got up and as she opened her window she heard a sound she wasn’t used to coming from her backyard. She looked out through the window and saw you moving some pots she didn’t recognize. “Y/N?” she called out and her heart skipped a beat when she saw you looking up.

“Come down here! I want to show you something!” you yelled, a wide grin on your face.

“Give me ten minutes!” she told you and rushed to the bathroom to get ready. She couldn’t remember the last time she rushed this much to get changed and ready for the day, it certainly didn’t happen since she was a child and had all day free to play with you.

She barely even remembered the last time she purposely went to her backyard, yet here she was, walking over to you as you finished whatever you were doing. When she stopped next to you she saw the pots, five of them, filled with earth, and stems from the wild rose bush stuck in them.

“If I did everything correctly at least one should sprout roots,” you said as Cairo, speechless for once, looked between you and the roses. “I noticed the crushed bush, so I went back after getting everything I needed,” you said softly.

Cairo felt a tear sliding down her cheek as she jumped into your arms, ignoring any dirt that may have gotten on you. All the unwanted tension between the two of you seemed to fade away as you got over your surprise and hugged her back.

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy

#cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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lvndosnorris · 9 hours

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riding oscar’s face and literally crying when his nose occasionally bumps your overstimulated clit (im crazy obsessed w his nose), but his hands just hold you down so you can’t squirm or move off of him. you can def feel him smiling against your clit

first oscar smut?!!! thank you anonnie <3

oscar had been begging for you to sit on his face for the past few weeks, scoffing in your direction whenever you'd argue that you'd squish him. as nonsensical as it sounded he'd settle for being between your thighs instead, hips elevated with a cushion as he'd eat like a starving man — only pulling away from you once you tugged harshly at his hair, desperate to clamp your legs together as you walked shuddered hysterically at the overstimulation he was subjecting you to.

yet you couldn't get the thought out of your mind, the mental image of you riding his face being something you couldn't get rid of. the bubbling hot in the pit of your stomach as you finally managed to swallow your insecurities and propose the idea mid-make-out, your question shaky and almost inaudible as oscar pouted playfully, "i didn't quite catch that princess, what did you say?"

and you'd raise your voice, a firm "i want to sit on your face" sounding like music to his ears as he kneaded the flesh of your ass beneath his palms. the both of you were slumped against the bed, propped up by the headboard as your fingers traced the adam's apple bobbing in your boyfriends throat as he groaned.

the sensation felt different, not what you were used to. head pushed back against the cushions oscar helped you steady yourself above him, your underwear discarded somewhere between the sheets as he stroked over your outer thighs. he could sense your wariness, peppering small kisses to your warm skin as he waited for you, patient as you took your time to finally lower yourself. your eyes fluttered, blurry as he snaked a hand between the two of you, pointer finger and middle finger spreading your cunt just enough for him to settle between your folds.

"that's it baby, i've got you..." his words were muffled, vibrations surging through your body at the sensation. oscar's tongue movements were slow, languid as he traced over your wetness. paying particular attention to your clit he moaned softly, suckling the bundle of nerves between his lips with a deliciously wet noise.

your hips rocked against him, hands gripping the headboard for leverage as you cursed his name. with a whimper you felt his mouth leave you for a split second, adjusting until his tongue lapped hungrily at your clenching hole. you were desperate, chest heaving as you felt the tip of his nose brush your puffy clit.

from the start of your relationship oscar had always put your pleasure first — whether that be worshipping you with his hands, his mouth or his cock. whatever you needed, you would get. and although he loved making you feel good in whichever way you desired, there was no denying that he loved tasting you. in fact he craved it.

your waterline was brimming with tears as you rocked against his face, the sound of oscar beneath you filling the room. the air was hot, heavy, as he mercilessly ate you; his lips parted as his tongue brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. you could tell that you'd be cumming any minute if he continued like he was, your excitement glistening on his cheeks and chin as he whined to his own tune. he worked your body perfectly, the pads of his fingers gripping your waist as he held you down, not letting you lift your hips at all for relief, "c'mon baby, give it to me— show my how good you are."

the cockiness oozed from his words and you knew that he'd have a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. you tried to respond, eyes screwed shut as you threw your head back, but words completely failed you — instead replaced with cries as the tip of his nose bumped over your clit again and again, the soreness of his jaw forgotten about as he felt you shake.

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circeyoru · 2 days

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When You Don’t Know Love = Requested

[Yandere Human & Demon!Alastor x Victim Angelic!Reader]

The Request

What is love? Alastor can’t really answer that question. He knows he loves his mother, the sweetest soul on Earth that cared for him. He knows he loves people’s attention on him, it proved that he was worth something unlike how his father would curse and split on him. He also knows he loves his job as a radio host, how people relied on him and his words for entertainment and serious matters or information. But above all, he knows he loves to kill

Apart from his lack of answer to this question, there was another point to his character. The want for control and knowledge. He knows he wanted things to be in his hands and for the things he owned to be in perfect and working condition. That was how he picked his new workstation and earned money, through aiming as the best host in the company and the most entertaining in the channel. That was how he could afford his mother and himself that new big house they were eying for a while

When it seemed like everything was in his grasp, he thought he had everything he ever needed. That was until his mother was on her deathbed and accepted it, not him though, he searched high and low for a cure. With his fame and wealth, he thought he could have it, he loves his mother, he loves this perfect time he was living in, he loves this ideal reality that was his

But it was taken from him. He felt rage, he felt hopeless, he felt dull

Every day, he found himself hunting more and avoiding things that reminded his mind of his mother. Those stupid memories, those stupid emotions that made his heart beat quicken. That was how he identified his twisted love. His heart had quick down once his mother was gone and he knew then, his life would be slow and dull

Yet into his life walked in you. You were a simple traveller, going from town to town to help people and learn new things, small and big. You happened upon his hometown because of his radio. He never thought you’d be a new light in his life, at least, you started off as a small splash of paint

His boss brought you in for a special programme that Alastor was arranged to host as a podcast, a sort of interview for you to share your knowledge and stories to the listeners. The first one was heavily scripted so listeners would be introduced to the new programme and you in general, then the feedback was beyond good, the show went on with more freedom for both you and Alastor. That opened doors for you and Alastor to chat outside of work, to mingle for work

Like everyone else, you found Alastor charming and a gentleman that put other men to shame. He was perfect in every sense. Though Alastor flirted with you, as a way to test you, you never reciprocated nor did you give in. He admired that, he felt like he didn’t need to be his perfect masked self, almost in a way that was similar to when he was with his mother. There was just something about this feeling that he can’t put a finger on

What is it?

He put this on the fact that he couldn’t catch you in his web like the others were. You were attracted to him, but not to the point where you’d throw yourself at him. He tested it be letting one of his fangirls interrupt his business meeting with you in a cafe one afternoon, but you didn’t even have a hint of annoyance or anger, you merely looked over your notes and his, even asking if he needed you to leave

Peculiar indeed

It got to the point where the simple programme meeting with you at the cafe wasn’t enough. Soon, he found himself inviting you out, lunch, dinner, a stroll, a market shopping, anything to get you to spend more time with him. He loves listening to you telling him your stories of your travel, but then he came to hate having you on that programme where you also tell the world your stories. He loves that he was the first to hear it from your lips, but he hates that he need to share to all the other strangers

Your voice, he wants it for his ears. Your attention, he wants it on him. Your eyes, he wants it gazing only at him. Your mind, he wants it to only think of him. Your heart, he wants it to beat for him

This feeling. This suffocating feeling. It’s familiar, to the point he clutches his heart like it would stop its aching. He recognize this. He felt this way when he was hunting down someone in the forest in the dead of night. He felt this way when he was stalking down his next prey

Perhaps, that was it? You’re his next prey

So he got everything set up. It was naive and foolish of you not to suspect him when he invited you into the forest when the sun was setting. Surely, you heard his broadcast of the serial killer? Why aren’t you more careful? Ah, yes, Alastor was here to protect you. Yes yes, of course

BANG!

Not

When pain shot through your shoulder, your body fell to the ground. Your teary eyes stared up in horror at his sickly grin, his lips moved as he taunted, “Better start running, dear, else you might end up being one with his forest.” And ran you did. Alastor felt that ache in his heart, that rush in his body as he propped him to running after you

The game was on. You put up more of a fight, he’ll admit, maybe more so than some of his prey. Still, you were no match for him. In no time, he stopped and smiled at you when you had looked behind to see if you lost him. His hands raised his shotgun, one eye closed as he aimed. A beating heart, yours was beating wildly for survival, and his was beating wildly for…

BANG!

His smile fell when your body fell limp on the forest grounds. His eyes widened before they blinked, his gun was dropped and his legs rushed him to your side. He kneeled to your side, drenching his pants in your blood. He stared at his shaking hands and his breath hitched. These feelings in him. What was this?

Usually, he’d be laughing or trying to contain his laughter so as not to alert others. Or he’d be looking around to make sure no one saw his evil deed. Now he was doing the complete opposite

A drop of water fell on your body. Was it raining? No, it’s coming from his face, more accurately, his eyes. Why was he crying? Wait, why did he bring his body so close to you. This all felt so familiar, he was also hugging his mother like this. He swallowed, his grip on your body growing tighter and tighter. Someone, anyone, tell him… Why was he feeling this way?

It felt like he was watching from an outsider’s perspective. His hands were pressing against the bloody wounds on your body to try and stop the bleeding, then he was clinging so close to you so you don’t get cold. He spoke to you so you wouldn’t be bored in the silence. He kissed you so you’d wake up like sleeping beauty from a long sleep

Nothing worked

Now he stared at the script as he read out your accidential death by some hunter in the forest. His tears fell once more but his smile was forced on. His mother loves his smile. You also love his smile. So he’ll smile

It was too late. He can answer that question now. The one about love. What is love? The feeling he felt towards you. The feeling that makes him at home. The feeling that makes him want nothing more than you and you alone

Yet what took that away? He did. He took away his happiness and love. He might as well kill himself right then and there when he took your life. He questioned himself, why, why didn’t he understand those feelings for you were love? Why did he understand and know when it was too late? WHY?

When he saw couples on the street, being so loving towards each other. The ghost memories and fantasy of what was and could be you and him clouded his mind and eyes. He always found himself turning the other way. Then he also found their death bodies not too long after

“I hate you, I hate you…” Alastor found himself stabbing into the male repeatedly for recognizing his emotions to and for his lover better than Alastor himself. “If only… If only I knew… My darling… My darling wouldn’t be… My love wouldn’t be six feet under!”

It took some time, but the Princess’ fantasy became reality in the end. So much happened and Heaven accepted the redeemed demon souls into their pearly gates. Unfortunately, Alastor found his Hell just beginning

No surprise when he couldn’t find you anywhere in Hell, you were such a pure soul. Back then, he knew he never liked it when your attention was elsewhere or seeked by others. He wanted to gudge out their eyes and tongue so no one would defile you with their eyes or taint your ears. So you belonged to Heaven

Try as he might, he would never be able to go to Heaven and join you. Yet it irked him when other demons and angels would surround your blinding light. He didn’t make peace with the thought, but he had to put on a smiling face when he congratulated the Princess on her hard work. If only it never worked

But news of Heaven sending down some talented angels to help with the redemption project brought the Princess and her lover into a panic to ready everything. On the appointed day, the heavenly portal opened at the lobby of the hotel while everyone stood at attention to welcome their newest staff or partners

Alastor thought he wouldn’t care less. He thought it meant he was going to be more annoyed with everything. Yet, this was a welcoming surprise

Your angelic form stood out, not because you were the first to step out of the portal, those two pairs of silver wings with golden highlight while the others only had white wings did you justice for your graceful appearance. Your halo hovered above your head as a symbol of your purity and goodness

You were just as beautiful as the day he killed you

While you went to talk with Charlie and introduct everyone and their duties, Alastor felt his claws clutching his heart once more. This suffocating feeling was back and even stronger than before. His smile widened. His legs moved and brought his form to you, like he forgot that he could travel through the shadows

“My dear,” Alastor stopped at your side and took your hand in his, holding onto it too tightly like he was trying to draw blood. He looked up at you, “I deeply, sincerely, apologize for killing you.”

He ignored the gasps and shocked look he was given. Even your look of terror and fear as your mind replayed the memories of that night. The shadow rose around the two of you to encage and ward off the other.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never hurt you again, my heart can’t bear it. I’ll make it up to you and show you all of my love.” Alastor kissed your hand ever so gently, “Now that you’re here, I can’t let this opportunity slip. I’ll have you. Now and forevermore.”

Note: Another Yandere Alastor here. The ending's up for interpretation. I personally saw him kidnapping you to his shadow realm or something to keep you by his side. What's your ending?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #human alastor #When You Don’t Know Love

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teojira · 2 days

Note

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

#can you tell im up his ass #Optimus is one of my top 5 characters ever i am married to him actually #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #gender neutral reader #teddy loves bots ☆#optimus prime #transformers knightverse #tf knightverse #Optimus x reader

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of-solitude-past-and-present · 24 hours

Text

Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.

There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).

ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.

Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.

It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is.

That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.

One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.

"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.

You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.

Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.

You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.

"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.

He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.

"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.

He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."

Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.

(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)

You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.

A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.

"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."

Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.

It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.

He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.

"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."

His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"

Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.

"I'm... sorry?"

"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."

For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.

Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.

Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.

"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.

"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.

He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"

Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.

"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"

You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"

"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."

You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."

"Excited for wh-"

Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.

"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."

Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"

You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.

"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.

"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.

"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?

You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?

You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"

"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.

He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"

Fuck.

One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.

"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.

"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?

Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.

"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.

With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.

Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.

He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."

#wuthering waves #yandere wuthering waves #yandere scar #yandere scar wuwa #yandere scar x reader #yandere scar wuthering waves #scar x reader #bro theres so many scars out there what all do i tag this #yandere scar x reader wuthering waves

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sillywittleprincess · 2 days

Text

Soft dom Choso x fem! reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (fem! reciving) period sex?, praise, consent checks, sub reader, pet names (baby, sweetheart), kinda fluffy ngl, not beta read

Words Count: 1.3k

Choso was always so attentive to your needs, even if you weren't aware of them.

"W-wait choso! You can't do that right now. You know I'm on my period." you say as you look down at your boyfriend who was tugging at your sleep shorts.

You had asked him to come over to your house so you guys could cuddle and watch a movie and he did so without hesitation like the good boyfriend he is. As soon as he saw you open the door for him, he could tell something was wrong. He could sense it. He asked if you were okay and all you said was "just cramps".

You acted like nothing was wrong as you led him to your bedroom (which he had been in many times before), but choso knew better. He held you while the movie played, rubbing your lower tummy whenever you felt a particularly strong cramp. But choso wasn't focused on the movie. He was focused on what he could do to help you feel better. As the movie came to its conclusion, so did he. He made his move, sliding himself down on the bed so he was between your legs.

"Shhh I promise it will help you feel better...more relaxed," he shushed you as he pulled down your cloth shorts. "And I know you're not feeling the best, so you don't have to do anything baby. Just let me take care of everything."

You sighed softly as he rubbed small circles on your inner thighs, his eyes trained on your panty wearing cunt. He could see the wings of the pads on your underwear, a reminder that you're on your period. But he didn't mind. He was all focused on you.

You bite your lip, thinking. "I don't know...I don't think you'll enjoy yourself very much. It's dirty and it smells weird."

"I'm telling you sweetheart, I don't care about a little blood. And I think I might enjoy it more than you think. So can I?" He brought his thumbs to rub where your panties meet you thighs. "Please?"

You can't say no to him, especially when he begs like this. "Okay...but if you don't like it, stop immediately, okay?" You feel a little uncomfortable and embarrassed with the situation, but you can't say you're not curious to see if it will help you feel better.

Choso looks up at you and smiles softly. "Good girl" is all he says before bringing his attention back to between your legs. He shimmies your panties off, looking at the bloody pad curiously for a moment before zoning in on your pussy. "Wow...you look so pretty even covered in blood. It almost makes you look even more appetizing. I just wanna lick it all off." You blush slightly at his vulgar words mixed with praise, turning your head to the side as you lean back on your pillow.

Choso leans closer to your core, the scent of you entering his nostrils. While it is a little different from your usual scent, he doesn't hate it. He softly pulls back the hood of your clit with the pad of his thumb and gives your pearl a quick kiss. Your thighs flinch as the sudden contact and choso chuckles at you. "Your reactions are so cute baby. I'm gonna do a little more now, okay?"

He watches you nod your head, happy of your approval. He smushes his face against your pussy, his mouth sucking on your clit.

You shriek at his actions and how it's making you feel. It felt like it was too much, too sudden. And you felt extra sensitive because you were on your period. You feel a hand on your knee so you look at choso, seeing his hand outstretched to you. You quickly take his hand in one of yours, gripping it as he continues to assault your clit with his tounge.

He sucks on it, licks it, writes his name with his tounge on it. Anything he could think of in that moment, he did. Your soft moans are like music to his ears and he wants to do anything to hear more. Choso brings his right hand, the one that's not holding yours, to your pussy, covering two of his fingertips in blood as he rubs them against your entrance.

"C-choso!" You cry out, gripping his hand tighter as he slides his pointer and middle finger into you. They slide in easily, your blood mixed with your wetness making the perfect lubricant.

"Wow" choso says in awe, pulling away from your cunt to look at his fingers. "They just went right in...now I just have to find..." You feel his fingers moving inside you, jumping when they make contact with an extra sensitive spot inside you. "...this" choso smirks out as he probes at your g-spot.

"You're doing so good baby" choso praises you, giving your clit another kiss. "so so good for me." He dives back into your cunt, sloppily making out with your clit as his fingers move in and out from you, repeatingly hitting your spot on their way in.

"Y-you're doing good too choso!" You moan out, gripping his hand so tightly your hand begins to cramp. "It feels good choso. Thank you so much for doing this."

Choso smiles into you. Your praise is everything he hoped for and more. "C'mon baby...tell me your close."

You nod quickly, showing him that you are. "I am, I am close choso! So don't stop please!"

Heading those words encourages choso to go faster. Moving his tounge faster, curling his fingers into you faster. He had to get you to cum. He wanted it bad and he wanted it now.

"Choso please please please please" you whimper out, rocking your hips against his fingers and face. You felt yourself clenching down on his fingers. You were so close, just needed a minute more.

Choso doesn't pull away from you but looks up at your face. You look utterly blissed out. He nibbles on your clit softly and apparently that was the push you needed to cum. Your thighs closed around his head as your legs trembled, moaning out your lover's name along with thank yous. Choso moaned with you as he felt you pulsate around his fingers. He couldn't wait for your period to be over so it could be his cock you were clenching around instead.

"Shhhh it's okay, I've got you" choso coos as he rubs his thumb over your hand, trying to get you to relax as you come down from your high. Soon you do relax, parting your legs for him to escape the headlock you had him in. He pulls his fingers out of you and leans back on his knees allowing you to see his face properly making you gasp.

Choso's mouth, chin, and fingers were covered in blood. Your blood. You release his hand to cover your face in embarrassment. Your face feels so hot, like you have a fever.

Choso sighs at your reaction, wiping his mouth and chin with the tee shirt he was wearing. He does the same with his hand before taking his other hand, the one that was not inside you two minutes ago, to grab your wrists and pull your hands down. "There's no need to act so shameful sweetheart. Look, I'm fine. And you feel better, yeah?" You look and him bashfully and nod.

Choso smiles at your response "See? I knew it. I'll always take care of you, so trust me, okay? I love you" choso states as he steps off the bed. "I'm going to start up the shower. While you're in there I'm also going to change the sheets" he says before walking away. After a moment you hear the shower running.

Choso will always take care of you and you know it.

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso smut

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000-pawz · 3 days

Text

how sungho loves ( zodiac series ) ˚ · .

how i think sungho would navigate relationships/love/communication based on his natal chart/birth chart!

wc: 1k+

more under the cut!

"trust, honesty, and devotion" are the first three words that enter my mind when i look at sungho's chart!

to put it simply, sungho isn't a "flirt". he'd rather pay attention to the little detail about you and act accordingly!!! he can come across as a rather quiet lover, preferring to keep his feelings at bay until he is completely sure that you are as serious about the relationship as he is. because of his virgo sun, he usually avoids taking risks, so he thinks through every possible outcome of confessing his feelings to you before he actually does. it's not easy for him to let people in romantically ><

sungho is very intentional and direct with his words—he does not beat around the bush. because of his mercury in virgo, he kind of carries a "no nonsense" attitude when it comes to his relationships. if he genuinely likes you and sees a future with you, he's not going to pretend he doesn't! he only involves himself in relationships he sees as worth the effort, and trust that he will give his all when he's serious about you ^___^

with his moon being in sagittarius, i see his main love language as quality time. he likes to be active, so he enjoys dates based around exploration like traveling and trying out new things! he loves, loves, loves spending time with you and gains so much energy from being in your presence. he enjoys banter and a sense of playfulness in his partner.

he's a huge fan of acts of service as well. he'll do all of the chores around the house, buy and cook you as much food at you want, help you brush and dry your hair. anything he can do that helps you relieve stress, he's on it. with his mars in pisces, he just wants to please you. his main goal is for you to happy and proud to be with him. he needs to feel needed and valued!! he's especially sensitive around his waistline, so please give him hugs around the waist! it makes him feel so secure.

since his venus squares pluto, he loves very deeply and intensely. he's ready to live through thick and thin with you and grow together to become better versions of yourself.

sungho loves quietly, but his small actions should never go unnoticed! the best way to make him feel loved is to make him feel appreciated and noticed. a "thank you", "you're doing so well", "you've been working so hard", or a "i'm proud of you" goes a long way. he doesn't need any flashy acts of loyalty or a shakespear poem recited to him. he just wants to know that you love him and appreciate him.

when it comes to ideal types, i think sungho is someone who is attracted to those who can stimulate his mind, bring something new to the table, and are equally as adventurous. he likes people who are honest about not only their feelings for him, but their own internal emotions. sungho especially likes people who can handle his sarcasm, push and pull, and match his wit.

he doesn't have time for people who are unsure of what they want! he lives passionately and is most compatible with those who can keep up with his pace and enthusiasm for life. he likes when his partner is confident and simplistic, but never cocky. i have a feeling that he appreciates those who aren't always in the spotlight, as well!!!

sungho is a very optimistic person because of his sun conjunction with venus. ^___^ he tries to see the good in people, but he can overly critical at times. it's never his intention to hurt anyone! he's just very blunt and straightforward when it comes to his feelings. this is why it's important for him to have a partner that understands his true nature and complexity, rather than just seeing him on the surface level.

trust is a very, very big thing for him. he's completely open and honest with his feelings, and he expects his partner to do the same. if he feels like his trust has been broken, he can be pretty confrontational. if he's especially stressed or overwhelmed, he can be very sensitive, but because of his mars in pisces, he forgives very quickly. he hates the feeling of being upset with you and he'll want to work on any problems immediately and thoroughly.

sungho isn't immune to jealousy either. with the slightest hint that your attention or interest is moving away from him, he'll internalize those feelings. with his moon conjunction pluto, he has a habit of to hiding his negative feelings which can result in emotional outbursts and arguments. this can lead to a lot of guilt because rationally, he knows that you love him, but he overthinks a lot. since his sun squares his moon, he has some conflicts with emotional insecurity. he can get fussy sometimes, so a person who can provide him with patience and security is ideal.

one way you'll know for sure if sungho is in love with you would be him relinquishing his control. his sun, mercury, and venus are all ruled by virgo so he innately craves management and order. he strives for perfection always, but this can lead to built-up tension and stress if he doesn't have a safe environment to retreat to. vulnerability is a sensitive thing for him with his moon in sagittarius. people who don't know him that well can see his values of independence as aloofness or being scared of commitment, but that is the opposite of the truth! his passion for his lover shines through when he gives up control.

this give-and-take relationship is the key to balance and stability with sungho. when sungho feels completely comfortable with you, he'll let you take care of him for once. try being the big spoon, playing with his hair, and letting him vent to you without inputting your own opinions. (and he'll never admit it, but he loves being babied as well.) he'll turn into putty in your hands <3

reblogs are greatly appreciated! lmk what u think or if you have any other takes!!! i'm always open to learning more :o thank u...<3

series masterlist

masterlist

#000 pawz ⋆˚🐾˖°#he's such an entj its insane #sungho x reader #sungho imagine #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor #bnd #yay

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ahqkas · 13 hours

Note

Can I request kissing headcanons for Charles Smith and Arthur Morgan with gn!s/o please?

THE KISS OF LIFE ; arthur morgan & charles smith

PAIRING! arthur morgan x gn!reader, charles smith x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! how his kisses constantly bring out the joy of life

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 MASTERLIST!

ARTHUR MORGAN IS A ROUGH MAN. Everyone knows. From the people he considers family to the strangers he meets on the streets. His shell is strong to keep him intact but even the strongest breaks.

To you, he’s hopelessly devoted.

His kisses carry the scent of nature - fresh pine, flowers’ scent. They also carry the spicy side as well - the smoke of cigarettes, the faintest hint of gunpowder. The characters of his kisses are the same. They can be gentle and sweet and they can be rough and desperate.

He’s a man of a few words, but his kisses show exactly what he wants to say. A kiss can communicate thousands of words.

A protective edge seeps to his kisses when he returns from a particularly dangerous mission, where his wits and strength were tested to the maximum. He’s gripping at your waist, thighs, and jaw that night as if reassuring himself he’s really there and you won’t just vanish into the thin air.

Life with the Van der Linde gang means moments alone are rare, especially with the noisy members. Arthur often steals kisses in hidden places or when no one’s looking. He doesn’t need to have Sean hanging on his shoulders, chuckling about forbidden love. But those kisses turn into something else quicker than anything when the moon is high enough on the dark sky. His affection is no longer timid but rather bold, messy kisses placed anywhere the skin of your body shows up uncovered by clothing. He’s making up for the times he couldn’t kiss you openly and he sure does know the way to convince you.

CHARLES, KNOWN FOR HIS CALM DEMEANOR, APPROACHES EVERY KISS WITH THE SAME THOUGHTFUL INTENSITY. When he’s kissing you, it feels like he’s truly present in the moment, giving you all of his attention and care. His kisses are slow. Each one a vow of loyalty and love.

The man’s kisses are often followed by the essence of nature as he’s always spending the time outside in the wilderness. There’s a distinct freshness to them, a mix of earth and pine. When his lips meet yours, it’s like suddenly being surrounded by the tall trees and growing plants. He’s always warm and inviting for you, and there’s a sense of peace that comes with every kiss, as if he’s sharing a piece of his own inner calmness with you.

He cups your face every time he kisses you with a gentle hand, his thumbs softly tracing your cheeks as his lips brush against yours.

However, when passion takes over, Charles’ kisses become more intense, more needy. His usually composed behavior crumbles and even through the thought of it seems scary, he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. He pulls you closer, trying to show you things he can’t say.

Regardless of the situation, kisses with Charles always leave you feeling cherished and loved. He has a way of making you feel like you’re standing on top of the world. Whenever it’s a soft peck on the forehead to soothe your worries or a passionate kiss that sets your heart racing, Charles enjoys all of it.

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 days

Text

Every Inch of You

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: reader is fighting demons (insecurities), very specific descrpitions of body image related insecurities- like the reader is literally picking herself apart in a mirror, hella praise, body worship, fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, creampie, cockwarming, pseudo voyeurism/exhibitionism (he fucks her in front of a mirror idk) I think that's everything

Genre: starts off pretty angsty, we transition to smut and end with fluff!

Summary: Insecurities can be quite rough on you but your boyfriend has no intentions of letting you go through it alone

***

You frown at your reflection as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Today has been a rough day. Nothing in particular happened. You went to work, you ran some errands, you did normal daily things, but for some reason you've been in such a weird mood and now you're stuck in a vortex, picking apart yourself apart in the fucking mirror. You really ought to go to the gym more often, or- stop snacking at night, have your pores always been so noticeable? Since when do you have so many stretch marks? You can't see your toes over your stomach- god that's embarrassing. You let out a long sigh as you bite back the tears stinging the back of your eyes. You hate this. It doesn't usually get this bad and the worst part is you know it's not real, you know you're not some hideous monster but it doesn't stop that nasty voice in your head from warping your perception some days and when that happens nothing you say to yourself changes it. But man does it suck, because most of the time you have all the confidence in the world, you've worked very hard on it. Days like this make it feel like you're still some lost little kid desperate to find your place in the world with no sense of self. You should just walk away. If you can't see yourself, you can't pick your appearance apart. But your feet feel glued to the floor, as if they can't remember how to move, as if it's the most impossible task you've ever been given.

"Alright that's enough. You'll lose your mind standing here." You tell yourself, shaking your head in hopes of getting out of this dreary mood. You finally step away from the mirror and head to your closet to put on some clothes post shower. You throw on a hoodie and some shorts and leave your room.

"Babe?!" You hear as you walk down the hall. Sounds like your boyfriend's back.

"Hey love, welcome home." You meet him by the door and he kisses you on the cheek.

"Hope you haven't made dinner yet beautiful because I brought take out." Luke tells you holding up the bag with an excited grin.

"Take out's good. You wanna shower first or dive straight in?" You ask him.

"Would you mind terribly if I showered first?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." You take the food from him and nod your head towards the bathroom.

"I'll be quick!" He kisses you once more and jogs down the hall. You set the food on the living room table and watch TV while waiting for Luke. You hope you're able to keep it together for the few hours you'll be spending with Luke before bed. Considering its a weekday, you don't have to keep the mask up for that long. True to his word, Luke is quick to return, maybe 15 minutes pass by the time he plops down next to you on the couch. "Alright! Let's eat!" He announces, opening the takeout bag. He hands you your food before digging into his own.

"How was work today?" You ask him.

"Fine, tedious. Was mostly doing paperwork today." He shrugs. "How was your day cupcake?"

"Work was work and then I ran some errands. No fun stories here unfortunately. How's everyone?"

"Well, Spencer was giving a guest lecture today so he wasn't around since we didn't have an actual case. Garcia was telling me about some woman that seems to have his attention at the uni though."

"Is Pen keeping tabs on Spencer at the college? He'll literally hate that when he finds out." You frown.

"That's what I told her but you know how she can be. Especially with how sometimes things- go wrong when we meet new people."

"I mean if she's just a coworker, Penelope's getting ahead of herself don't you think? He probably hasn't even made a move on her." You say.

"He hasn't. You're right but it's not like she can be stopped." Luke chuckles.

"Yeah I guess so." You hum.

"Alright, what's wrong, princess?" Luke frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"You've barely touched your food. Did you think I wasn't gonna notice you've only been picking at it? Do you not like it? Do you want to eat something else?"

"No it, it's fine, I just- I'm honestly not all that hungry I guess." You sigh.

"What do you mean you're not all that hungry? What've you eaten today?"

"A bagel for breakfast and a salad for lunch." You shrug. Luke checks the clock in your living room.

"Lunch was 8 hours ago, all you had was a bowl of rabbit food and you expect me to accept that you don't want to eat your favorite food? Come on, spill it baby what's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on. I dunno I just- feel weird." You mutter, avoiding his gaze. Dating a profiler is so irritating sometimes, can't he just ignore your body language for once?

"Weird how?"

"We don't, have to do this. It's not a big deal babe." You mumble.

"You're not eating y/n it is absolutely a big deal."

"Luke-" you sigh.

"Don't 'Luke' me, what's going on?" He frowns.

"I'd really rather not discuss anything there's no need, seriously."

"Baby, don't shut me out. You can't shut me out. We're in this together, always. You've gotta tell me what's going on in your head." He caresses your cheek gently. You sigh, unable to justify holding out on him when he speaks so softly, with such care.

"I've just been having a bad mental day. Nothing's happened, but I, just feel uncomfortable in my body, and it's hard to deal with let alone talk about." You say, tears burning behind your eyes again.

"Baby," he says, concern contorting his features.

"It's fine, I'll get over it. Today's just been a rough one. It happens. Sometimes my insecurities flare up out of nowhere but that's life, I don't want you to worry." You shake your head.

"Do you know me at all princess?"

"What?"

"My baby, my darling, the love of my life, my reason for being, is stuck in her own head hating her body, the body I live to worship, the body I can't get enough of and you want me to simply 'not worry about it'? That ain't happening." He stands up.

"Luke." You grumble as he grabs your hands.

"No no no no, no complaining, up you go." He pulls you off the couch and lifts you into his arms.

"Ah! Luke what are you doing?" You ask, throwing your hands around his neck as he princess carries you down the hall.

"Well if that nasty little voice in your head wants to lie to you, I'll simply have to remind you myself of all the reasons ever inch of you is perfect." He says matter-of-factly.

"I do not like the sound of that." You tell him.

"And I don't like the sound of you feeling uncomfortable with yourself." Luke shrugs.

"Well that's not-" You stop yourself with a sigh, not even sure what your comeback would be. In your bedroom, Luke carefully lowers you to the ground in front of the mirror with your back facing him.

"I want to help you to see yourself the way that I do." He says softly. He kisses your neck lightly and gently lifts your gaze to meet his in the reflection. "Ask me how I see you." His fingers brush against your thighs as he speaks.

"How do you see me?" You whisper hesitantly. You're not sure you even want to know, but his lips against your throat and his hands on your skin are rather persuasive.

"You, mi amor, are the sun at the center of my universe, if ever I was asked to describe perfection I would simply describe you." Luke slides his hands up under your hoodie caressing your skin.

"Luke." Your brow furrows. This can't possibly be sexy for him, he's only touching your stomach to comfort you, he'd probably prefer it if-

"Relax baby." Luke whispers. You didn't even realize you'd sucked your stomach in against his touch unconsciously, as if you could hide from him your size. You slowly untense your muscles, cringing at the way you fill his large hands. "I'm going to take this off of you, is that alright baby?" He asks.

"Well," can you really handle looking at yourself again?

"You can say no if you want princess, but I need you to stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere." You say.

"Physically maybe, but I can see your mind wandering off." He kisses your temple. "Don't go."

"You can take it off." You whisper. Luke tugs the hoodie over your head not a moment later, tossing it somewhere in the room, out of sight. He lets out a sigh as his eyes trail over your body through the reflection. You can still feel the heat of his gaze in the mirror and weirdly enough it feels undeserved. He looks at you like that all the time but, tonight you just can't understand what would make him look at you with such want.

"God, you're gorgeous." He sighs placing his hands on your hips again. Luke places kisses on your shoulder. "Your skin is so soft, I can never get enough of touching you, kissing you, holding you." He says. He slides his hands up your sides to cup your breasts. "So perfect, I love the weight of your tits in my hands." His thumbs stroke over your nipples and the light stimulation makes your breath catch in your throat. He twists and tugs at your nipples, enjoying the little whimpers you let out. "You make the prettiest noises when I touch you baby."

"Luke-" you whine, your head lolling against his shoulder.

"Uh uh, head up princess, you've gotta watch. Watch me touch you, worship you, and watch how your body reacts to me, see for yourself how captivating you look." Luke gently shrugs his shoulder to push your head forward. You force your eyes to focus back on your reflections in the mirror, the sight of his hands kneading your breasts with rough fingers toying with your nipples to create hardened peaks only serves to make you squirm more against him. He keeps at it until your breathing is heavy, then one hand slides down, pausing to rub your tummy, "You may not believe me but this, I love this. Growing up it meant you were eating well, taken care of. And I like to think I take good care of you. I want it to show." He says kissing your neck. "Plus it's excellent for cuddles." He winks with a smile that makes you giggle. "I like that sound even more than your little whimpers, but I'm about to get a lot more of those." Luke's hand continues down, pushing your shorts down enough for you to kick them off. His hand caresses your thigh.

"You're teasing." You pout.

"You look cute when you pout." He chuckles. "But I'll be nice." His voice drops as he slips two fingers between your folds. You arch you back against his touch as his digits toy with your cunt. Luke knows your body maybe better than you do and his hand makes quick work of bringing you to the edge. Your head tips back again, instinctively and his movements slow when he catches it. The sudden change drags your gaze to his in the mirror, a silent question in your eyes when you whine. "If you want to cum pretty girl you have to watch yourself do it."

"But-"

"No buts, keep your eyes open and on the mirror." He says stroking you faster now that your attention is back on your reflection. Again when you feel your orgasm creeping up your spine your head drifts back and again Luke slows his hand almost to a stop.

"No!" You cry out as your release slips away.

"I already told you princess, your eyes have to stay on your reflection." He says waiting for your breathing to calm slightly before his fingers work you again. This time, you manage to keep your head forward, but your eyes still slide closed from the pleasure. Unfortunately for you your boyfriend is very observant and closed eyes still break the rule, so his fingers slow again.

"Fffffffffffffuck me." You grit out, frustrated from his edging game.

"I'll keep doing this until you get it right mi amor. Keep your eyes open." He says beginning again. This time, you steel yourself. You don't think you can handle another denial. The signs of release return quickly with his hands on you and though your lids desperately want to close you keep them open even as they threaten roll back in bliss as you finally cum with a breathy moan. "That's it, so fucking stunning." Luke says as he strokes you through the aftershocks. Your legs are still shaking and your chest is still heaving when Luke lifts you again. "I'm not finished with you yet, but this next bit will be easier in the bathroom. So you have something to hold onto." He says carrying you into the bathroom. He sets you down facing the large mirror over the sink. "I'd do this in the bedroom but you won't be able to see yourself if I fuck you right up against the mirror." Luke says in your ear and the words send a shiver down your spine. "Place your hands on the mirror sweetheart. Let me show you how badly I crave every inch of you." He says with a hand stroking your ass. You lean forward enough for your warm hands to touch the cool glass. Your eyes follow Luke's in the mirror as they trail over your skin hungrily while he frees himself from his sweatpants. He wastes no time sinking into you with a groan and though he gave no warning you moan at the stretch of him filling you. The look on his face as he settles into your heat can only be described as euphoric and it's one you could never get tired of seeing on him. After a moment his eyes peel open again and catch yours in the reflection. He gives you a smirk before his hands tighten against your hips and he sets a rhythm that explains why you needed something to hold onto. His thrusts are harsh and deep and have moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips. Luke's eyes are locked on yours in the mirror as he fucks you. "God you're beautiful, perfect, you've got the- prettiest eyes that sparkle when you laugh, and look so good rolling back when I make you cum." He hums.

"Oh Luke." You moan part of that was sweet, part if it made your walls clench around his dick.

"You're perfectly soft for hugging or cuddling and it doesn't hurt that I have plenty to hold onto when I wanna fuck you stupid." Luke says and if he weren't currently doing just that you might've laughed at his words, but the moaning makes it hard. "If I could spend all my days wrapped in your arms, buried in your heat- you have no idea how quickly I'd do it." You can feel your cheeks heating up from his, mostly, sweet words, so contrasting from the way he's railing you. "God I love you so much." He groans.

"I- I love you too Luke, more than- more than you know." You pant out.

"Fuck I'm close." He grits out. One of his hands wraps around your waist and finds your clit. It doesn't take much, a few well focused circles of your sensitive bundle of nerves and you're shaking as your orgasm hits, your walls clamping down so tightly around Luke's dick it pulls his orgasm from him too. His hips stop flush against yours as hot spurts flood your inner walls. You practically slump against the bathroom counter as the waves of your release die down. You're not quite sure how he manages but Luke turns you around and lifts you in his arms again somehow without fully pulling out of you. He walks you both over to the bed and lays down with you on top of him, soft dick still buried in your heat. Luke lifts your head from his chest to get your attention.

"I love every part of you with all that I am." He says.

"Thank you. I love you too." You say softly.

"I know insecurities are no easy battle but, yours is a body the Greeks would build statues for. It pains me that you see yourself as less than idolized."

"I'll admit it's much harder to feel that way when you react like this."

"Well I'll just have to make a habit of it then." He kisses your forehead.

"I- can't say I'm opposed to that suggestion." You hum.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And where we on food? Did your appetite come back any?" He asks, hand stroking soothingly down your back.

"Yeah but- I'm too tired to move." You mumble into his chest and he laughs.

"Don't worry I won't make you get up now. I'm sure after a nap your body will convince you to get up and eat, until then let's just lay here."

"Perfect that's exactly what I planned to do." You sigh as you snuggle closer to him. Maybe your insecurities will beat your ass every once in a while, but you smile knowing Luke will be there to fight them with you and that is more than enough for you.

***

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez #luke alvez smut #luke alvez fluff

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joshfutturman · 8 hours

Text

'you're just like a dream'

series (part 2) - mike insists he isn't sleepy, but you know better. you both find solace in one another as you try to make sense of your growing feelings. (2.7k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddy's) & gn!reader tags - sleepy mike, reader plays with his hair, hand holding, you're abby's babysitter, pre-established friendship verging on relationship, lingering feelings, pure fluff

you don't need to read part 1 to read this part, but here it is!

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

the summer breeze gently filters through the open window in mike’s bedroom, causing his curtains to sway gently. you can’t help but smile, feeling content, nestled on top of the blanket on his bed. it was perfect napping weather, hot enough to sleep the afternoon away without a care in the world. stretching, you relish in the scent of him on his sheets. the only thing that would truly make this a picture-perfect napping opportunity would be -

mike enters his bedroom, stopping in the doorway when he sees how relaxed you look. something about you looking so content fills him with satisfaction. a smile tugs on his lips, unable to contain it or hide it. he’d give up on attempting to hide his smiles from you someday.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

your mind wanders to a few nights prior, the night he'd told you that you could use his bed 'if you wanted' instead of the sofa. mike shrugged as he expressed the sofa 'probably wasn't comfortable'. in fact, he knew it wasn't comfortable. he could attest to that with the amount of mornings he'd woken up with a stiff neck after accidentally falling asleep face down on the old pillows.

you hadn't planned to nap in his bedroom, not entirely. you had only entered his room earlier to organise some laundry but found yourself examining your surroundings. your eyes wandered as you imagined how he spent his free time, quickly remembering that he hardly had any time to spare.

your eyes had landed on his bench press in the corner of his room, did he use that? you tried not to picture it, you couldn't get flustered right now. shifting your attention, you turned to his bed and sat, running your hands across the duvet. a frown formed on your lips as you wondered how many nights he lay here struggling to sleep.

an hour or so passes with abby napping in her bedroom, your eyelids growing heavy as you lie down on his bed.

it was perfect napping weather, hot enough to sleep the afternoon away without a care in the world. stretching, you relish in the scent of him on his sheets. the only thing that would truly make this a picture-perfect napping opportunity would be -

you smile warmly and turn your head towards him as your eyes search for his, “hey, mike.”

entering fully and averting his gaze from yours, mike shuts the door and rests his backpack down on his desk. “hey,” he eventually says in response.

“it’s such a nice day out, and you’re wearing a hoodie. . .” you say sarcastically with a sleepy grin, taking in his attire - a dark hoodie with baggy jeans, the usual.

mike half turns towards you, smirking, “it’s such a nice day out, and you’re inside,” he continues, “two can play at that game.”

“is it illegal to nap now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow to challenge him.

a soft snicker, one that makes your heart skip a beat, “guess not.”

he stands for a few moments, looking back at his bag as if to look anywhere but at you. your eyes find his and note those familiar dark circles beneath them, his tense shoulders, and that distracted look behind his eyes. you wonder how often, if ever, mike relaxed. had he not been sleeping well again?

you then sit up, tapping the bed beside you for him to come closer. mike shifts nervously on his feet a little before obliging, walking over and perching on the edge of his bed. hunching over, he begins to untie his shoes. you watch with a captivated expression, eyes lingering over the curve of his back through his thick hoodie before landing back on his face.

tilting your head, you continue to observe him with a silent smile. the rays of sun catch on his curls as he carefully undoes his shoelaces. you watch as the sparks of auburn through his hair shine with every gentle kiss from the sun, his brow furrowed as his fingers diligently work.

you want to ask how he’s feeling, how his day was, what the first thing he thought about when he woke up that morning was, does he want a coffee, can you hold his hand while you fall asleep. . . there’s so much you want to ask mike schmidt.

but you stay quiet. and so does he.

placing his shoes at the side of his bed, he lets out a sigh of relief and rubs his knees. sometimes, michael had the aura of someone beyond his years - almost like he’d lived a couple of lifetimes already. it was cute. like a grandpa, the way his brow would wrinkle and he’d get grumpy at the smallest of occurrences.

suddenly, his head is turning and he catches you staring. your eyes stray from his and he smiles, scooting back on the bed to come closer to you. when your eyes find his again, you notice the sleepiness in his gaze, looking at you through half-lids.

“you’re tired,” you murmur softly.

mike shrugs, he's almost always tired. no amount of sleep seems to really ‘fix’ him. “not really. a bit.”

you chuckle and nod, “a bit,” you repeat.

mind wandering, you think back to just last week when you both nestled on the couch, your fingers entwined in his hair as he gently drifted to sleep against you. you’d never seen someone fall asleep so fast before, and truth be told, mike hasn’t stopped thinking about it.

it was the best night's sleep he’d had since he was a kid, maybe because he felt truly safe. your tender touches coaxed him into a sleep so deep that he didn’t even dream. then, when he awoke, seeing you above him? he's not sure he could ever describe the feeling.

and he’d been craving it since, not sure how to ask. ‘could you play with my hair again?’ - even thinking of the sentence made his skin crawl. he felt so. . . silly. mike had never been the type to ask for help, or ask for anything really. the burden always fell on his shoulders and he firmly believed that’s where it should stay.

there was unspoken tension between the two of you, but it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable tension. there was a calmness when in each other's presence, like it wouldn't be so bad if walls crumble. . . like it was simply safe to relax. and with each passing day, mike felt himself wanting to fall into your arms more and more, to be in your embrace. even if just for a little while.

with how soft and distracted his eyes had become, you could tell he was thinking. you were too.

“why don’t you lie down with me?” you eventually mumble, laying back on his bed, keeping your eyes on him. you know mike needs the rest, and if you could offer him any kind of comfort, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

this causes his eyes to widen, blinking. “uh. . .” and this was a habit of his, clamming up. why couldn’t he just get the words out? what if it was a joke? maybe you were just joking. you were joking, right? i mean, it wasn’t too out of the question, you had slept together before.

shit, not like that. his cheeks flush at his own thoughts.

he wants to, he wants to get closer to you. but as he often did, michael struggled to communicate what he wanted. of course he wanted to get closer, he thought about your hands intertwining often. would your hands be soft against his calloused palms?

“sorry, i don’t know why i asked,” you lied with a small forced chuckle, “you don’t have to. it’s just. . . after last week i-“

“i want to,” mike mutters under his breath in a quick response, glancing to the side. and he truly did, mike yearns for your affection, your glances, he’d take anything he could get. he just wasn’t sure how to approach any of it, how did other people find this so easy?

you’re a little shocked at his firm admission, he wants to. so you pet your stomach, offering him to lay back from his sitting position on the edge of the bed. you hope this isn't a step too far. as always, you were careful with mike, respecting his boundaries. you knew it wasn't easy for him to accept affection.

mike looks down at your stomach, and then back to you as if to gauge the situation. swallowing his nerves, he slowly leans back and rests the back of his head against your stomach as one hand rests across his torso.

his weight against you makes you smile, but you can tell he’s still tense from the way his shoulders stay rigid. “you’re not gonna hurt me, you know.” you smile.

mike smiles nervously, “hm? oh, yeah. . . i know.” he lies, swallowing thickly. his eyes settle on the ceiling above you both, enjoying the way his head rises and falls with every soft breath from you.

fingers twitching, you ache to touch his hair just like last time. you want to watch the tension in his face melt as he sinks into the touch. would he let you do it again?

the room felt calm, the moment soft. birds chirp outside as if they were singing for only the two of you. a ghost of a smile flickers on mike’s lips. a sense of nostalgia for childhood summers fill his mind and yours, where nothing was wrong and puffy white clouds would pass through the perfect blue sky without a care in the world.

and maybe for a short while, nothing is wrong, not while the two of you share quiet times like these.

maybe if you just. . .

your fingers slowly find his hair. at first, mike flinches slightly from your touch as he did before, but soon. . . he relaxes and exhales. his whole body loosens up, his head turning to look up at you with such softness that you almost gasp as you begin to gingerly comb through his hair with your digits.

the tension he holds in his shoulders lessens, body relaxing against you more and more. his slow breaths cause his chest to rise and fall in a gentle rhythm, syncing with yours.

mike’s hooded lids desperately fight to stay open, looking at you in appreciation - but also something more. you offer him a smile and he beams back a wide, tired smile. god, you want this every day. having his soft smile directed at you felt like a gift, one you'd cherish.

eyes drifting across his features, you take in every curve of his face. in turn, he does the same to you as if he’s committing it to memory. he studies you with great effort as if he were scared to blink in the fear that you would be gone when he opens his eyes. the only sound that fills the room is your combined gentle breathing mixing with the ambient sounds of summer from outside the window.

you want to tell him he looks beautiful, that he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, with his scruffy stubble and messy curls. in all his imperfect glory, michael schmidt was perfect to you.

and he wants to tell you that you're beautiful to him too, that you weave your way through his mind every day even when you're not around. when he's waking up to his empty bedroom, he's wondering how you slept. when he's flicking mindlessly through tv channels, he wonders what you'd prefer to watch. you were on his mind more than he could ever admit.

slowly, he drifts his free hand across the bed to rest near yours in a sweet, silent offer. all the while, his eyes stay sleepily locked in your gaze. you swallow hard, feeling the presence of his hand beside yours. his hand twitches slightly in anticipation of finally feeling a hand against his. please, he thinks to himself.

your hand finds his, resting softly against his rough palm, fingers interlinking in a peaceful embrace. your thumb traces along the curve of his hand in a repeating pattern, a soothing motion. it's almost impossible to tell, but mike's smile widens slightly.

the room is enveloped by the delicate orange hue of the summer sun, the sun rays almost fighting to land upon mike. and you couldn't blame them, you'd fight to be in his presence too. the beams land across his face, highlighting his face peppered with freckles and the beautiful mix of hazel in his eyes.

if you could, you'd capture this moment in a freeze frame forever. just you, mike and the summer sun.

your fingers continue to work against his hair, tracing across his scalp in a delicate pattern. nails drifting against his skin, his eyes flutter - evidence that you were doing a good job and you can't help but smile. the way his curls gave in to your touch was also incredibly soothing to you, feeling the softness of them wrap around your fingers and then give way to each movement you make.

and mike loves it, his mind quiet and body thoroughly soothed. goosebumps find their way across his neck at your touch. he wants to thank you, but words fail him. instead, he gives your hand a tender squeeze.

his eyes are closing, his hand loosening on yours as he begins to lose the futile battle against sleep. "thought you weren't tired?" you whisper, finally breaking the silence.

". . .m' not. . ." he mumbles with a loose jaw, eyes blinking open again but gradually closing.

your eyes take in the way he's positioned, it can't be entirely comfortable, "bring your legs up, it's okay if you fall asleep."

mike does exactly that in his sleepy state, bringing his legs up onto the bed and curling up with his head nuzzling against your stomach. ". . . not gonna fall asleep. . ." he mutters, his eyes closing completely now as he relishes your warmth against him.

your fingers in his hair continue as you watch him give in to the tiredness that he's tried so hard to fight. "okay, you're not going to fall asleep. . ." you suppress a chuckle, scared to disturb him as his head rests against your tummy.

god, he looks so peaceful. the way he's curled up beside you is incredibly adorable, his fingers loose against yours as you still hold his hand as he sleeps. his breathing deepens, mouth half open as his head nuzzles against your stomach.

the birds continue to sing outside of his window, but all of the noise seems to slowly filter itself out. you're focused on mike, so much so that you find your own eyes growing heavy in response.

how had you been so lucky as to find yourself in this position twice? you weren't sure, but you know you want it again and again. mike's mind plagued him often, almost always, but with you? things were quiet, peaceful. . . like you were an escape he'd desperately search for every time.

he hadn't realised how badly he craved companionship until he saw you, really saw you for the first time. a few months into babysitting abby, he had been getting ready to leave for his shift when he poked his head into her room. you sat by her desk with her, watching contently as she drew and explained each stroke. your patience and genuine interest were both incredibly endearing to him. and when your head turned in his direction, offering a simple sweet smile, he felt an unfamiliar emotion swelling in his chest.

from then on, he knew it was only a matter of time before he caved. it would be impossible not to. mike's defences were strong, he knew it, but the ache he felt for you was stronger.

there's so much he wants to say, but mike's mind would solve that puzzle another time. for now, his mind falls deeper and deeper into sleep.

and so does yours, your eyes closing and your head slumping against his pillows. your hand loosely rests against his head, the two of you breathing softly into the summer air that fills the room.

maybe someday mike would tell you how he felt, maybe. but you were entirely content with taking things at mike's pace, you'd wait forever if it meant he felt comfortable. what more could you ask for than these soft moments where you could hide from the world together and find solace in one another?

you never want to let him go, and from now on? mike was never letting you go either. you felt like home to him.

mike felt like finally, he was home.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. ‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @laurrrelise @sun-spider13 @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson @mikeandikeschmidt ‧₊˚ ily!! .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

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skywalker1dream · 2 days

Text

part 4 of spin the bottle

Betrayed by the Buzz

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

note: again its short but hope you like it, i will post next part soon. quali will begin soon, i have to watch it. fingers crossed leclerc pole.

Summary: In the midst of a mundane moment in the kitchen, the incessant buzzing of Carlos's phone leads to a shocking discovery. Despite warnings in the back of your mind, you're compelled to investigate, only to find messages that shatter your trust and leave you reeling with betrayal.

Warnings: Emotional distress, betrayal, infidelity.

As you went about your business in the kitchen, the sound of Carlos's phone buzzing incessantly caught your attention. At first, you brushed it off, assuming it was just a group chat blowing up as usual. But as the buzzing continued for what felt like an eternity, your curiosity turned to concern.

"Carlos, your phone!" you called out, hoping to get his attention over the noise of the running shower. When he didn't respond, you grew increasingly frustrated, the incessant buzzing grating on your nerves.

Finally unable to ignore it any longer, you made your way over to where Carlos had left his phone on the counter. As you picked it up, you noticed a string of unread messages flooding the screen, each one more alarming than the last.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the messages, your worst fears confirmed with each passing word. Your hands trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, shock and betrayal coursing through your veins.

In that moment, everything seemed to blur together, the sound of the shower, the buzzing of the phone, the tears streaming down your face. You felt as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom of emotions.

With trembling hands, you set Carlos's phone back down on the counter, unable to bear the weight of the truth it held. As you stood there, grappling with the enormity of what you had discovered, you couldn't help but wonder how everything had unraveled so quickly.

was it all game for him.....?

But amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing was clear: you couldn't ignore the painful reality staring back at you from Carlos's phone. And as you struggled to come to terms with the betrayal that had shattered your trust, you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with heartache and uncertainty.

Carlos pov:

first date

As I sat with my friends, their jests about my lack of dating life grated on my nerves. I knew they meant well, but their relentless teasing was starting to wear thin.

"Come on, Carlos, when was the last time you went on a date?" Alex, one of my closest friends, prodded with a smirk.

"Yeah, man, you're starting to look like a hermit," Mark chimed in, chuckling.

I rolled my eyes, trying to brush off their comments. "I've just been busy with work, that's all."

But when they proposed the bet, challenging me to deceive her into losing her maidenhood, I was taken aback. It was a twisted game, one that went against everything I believed in.

"Seriously? You guys want me to do what?" I exclaimed, my disbelief evident in my voice.

"Come on, Carlos, it's just a bit of fun," Alex (not albono tho) said, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation. "And think of the money! If you pull it off, we'll give you a nice bonus."

I hesitated, torn between my principles and the allure of the challenge. "I don't know, guys. This doesn't feel right."

But when they upped the stakes with the promise of a hefty sum of money, a sense of competitiveness took hold of me. I agreed to their proposal, determined to prove them wrong.

"You're on," I said, a hint of determination in my voice. "But I'm not doing this for the money. I'm doing it to show you guys that I can do anything."

---------

As the days passed, I found myself growing increasingly annoyed with the whole situation. The bet weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the moral dilemma I found myself in. But despite my reservations, I couldn't shake the feeling of competitiveness that drove me forward. I wanted to win, not for the money, but to prove that I was capable of succeeding where others doubted me.

And so, when the opportunity arose to ask her out on a date, I seized it without hesitation. I acted as if the bet didn't exist, pushing aside the guilt and uncertainty that gnawed at my conscience.

"Hey, are you finally going to ask her out?" Mark asked, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

I nodded, trying to ignore the unease that twisted in my gut. "Yeah, I think it's time."

As I sent the text, inviting her to join me for coffee, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was betraying her trust, that I was using her as a pawn in a game she didn't even know she was playing.

Despite my misgivings, I pushed aside my doubts and focused on the thrill of the chase. I was determined to win the bet, no matter the cost. Little did I know, the true cost of my actions would be far greater than I could have ever imagined.

----

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz f1 #f1 fic #fanfic

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ireadwithmyears · 2 days

Text

even if it’s handcuffed, I’m leaving here with you.

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem Reader

Word count: 4.7K

Tags/warnings, smut (18+: (miners DNI) dumb decisions, they turn out alright, slight exhibitionism (they fuck in the back of 79’s and Fox enjoys the idea of being overheard), oral (F receiving), fingering, light bondage, spanking, but like only one, unprotected P in V sex, dom/sub elements, biting/marking (it’s Fox, what do you expect)

Summary: Fox hasn’t been giving you the attention you’ve been craving. The way in which you go about fixing that is highly questionable, but ultimately, a resounding success.

Note: yes, this was 100% inspired by a specific lyric in I’mgonnagetyoubac by Taylor Swift, referred to in the title. I heard it, went Fox bby c’mere I need to do something with this, and this is the end result, which I hope is enjoyable. Also, do these characters have communication issues that they probably should acknowledge and talk through? Probably. Are we not going to acknowledge any of that here for the sake of✨minimal plot✨ yes.

“This, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, is one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had.”

To be fair, your best friend is saying this all while she downs a shot, barely containing her smirk behind the glass. She’s already given her rather enthusiastic consent to this idea that she has just declared is stupid

Because that’s what best friends do.

Look, you have to agree, the idea sounds completely outlandish and lacks any sound logic whatsoever, not to mention, there’s no guarantee that it’ll even work. But, lounging around a table at a bar on Coruscant’s Clubbing scene, and with your ride or die best friend perched across from you to egg on your delusions, it starts to sound not as crazy as it had initially sounded when you had first spoke the words aloud.

In theory, the idea is straightforward and simple enough.

Start a fight at the clone bar while Fox is on duty so that you can actually get him alone for more than two minutes.

You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that these are rather drastic measures for you to take just to get your boyfriend to notice you. But, with your rationalizing, alcohol emboldening you, and your friends immediate agreement to help without hesitation, this idea starts to seem not only reasonable, but solid.

Listen, if you were able to be a normal, sensible couple, and you could just do something like, you know, talk to Fox, you would.

The problem is, though, that Fox has been making that very difficult.

Being the marshal commander of the Coruscant guard carries a lot of weight and responsibilities, you get that. You really, really do. But, when he rarely makes it home most nights because he’s fallen asleep at his desk from overworking himself, and you can count the amount of times he’s touched you over the past two weeks on one hand, you’re starting to go a little bit insane.

Okay, so, you’re horny and so desperate for his attention that you’re willing to do something completely unreasonable, not to mention a little bit illegal, to get it. So what.

The plan, for all of its complete lack of sense and sound judgment, goes a little too perfectly.

The guard often sends some of their own out on patrols during 79’s busiest nights to keep order and ensure that there are no inter-battalion style brawls.

You have Fox’s schedule memorized. So, you wait until you know he’s set to make his rounds, pick a table that is clearly within his eyeline, and then, minutes after he shows up, give your friend the subtle signal.

It starts with raised voices, shouted accusations and glaring until you know you’ve peaked his interest. Even through the tint of his visor, you can practically feel his eyes on you from across the room.

Once you’re sure his eyes are securely glued on you, you allow high school drama and improv skills to take over, letting the fight escalate into something physical.

It’s hard, knowing that your friend is about to take the brunt of this for you, and your equal parts appreciative, and a little bit terrified, that she’s letting you launch yourself at her. But, you think to console yourself, you had practised this. How to make it look convincing, just good enough that it draws the attention of the cori’s, while also inflicting minimal damage because due to the fact that you don’t want your friend to get in heat for this too, making yourself the clear instigator, she’s only dodging, refusing to hit back.

When the thud of boots and the crackle of voices through helmet speakers come, barking gruff orders to break it up, you’re more than a little relieved.

Even with his bucket still on, it’s easy for you to identify that it’s him. Him who pulls you off of her, none too gently. Him, whose rough, gloved fingers enclose around your wrists, smoothly pinning them behind your back before you can even blink and fuck, why was that so hot? Him, who, for a brief moment, you feel the cold and unforgiving plastoid of his chest plate digging as he presses flush against you, voice a low, displeased rumble as he addresses you, voice too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“You know, princess,” he mutters darkly, giving your wrists a squeeze. “If you wanted tonight to end with me locking binders around those pretty wrists of yours, there was no need to go to all of this trouble.”

He knew.

Somehow, he’s figured out exactly what you were doing within seconds and for some reason, this only intensifies the thrill that runs through your body and causes your thighs to clench.

You’re not given time to ruminate on this, though, barely catch the subtle wink that your friend gives you before another member of the guard blocks your view of her as he kneels down to check on her. Fox, reflexes lightning fast, spins you around and immediately begins to usher you towards the back of the establishment, giving the other guard member on duty, you think it might be Thorn, a curt nod to acknowledge that he can handle this on his own.

Your led away to the sounds of low whistles, and many identical sets of brown eyes peering at you interestedly as Fox’s brothers stare at you when you pass by their tables.

Your face, at this point, has the decency to flush with oncoming embarrassment as they watch Fox leading you away.

No time for regrets now, you think to yourself as Fox reaches around you, still keeping your wrists firmly in one hand as he unlocks the door to an out-of-the-way office, frequently used to detain clones who start fights in the bar.

For better or for worse , you have captured his full, undivided attention for the night.

now, you think, it’s only a matter of what he’s going to do about it.

“You know,” he muses, arms expertly caging you in and crowding you against the office wall, “if you’re going to fake a fight to get my attention, you could at least have picked an accomplice who I haven’t already met, and who I am perfectly aware you are on good terms with.”

“How would you know?” You ask, still slightly breathless as his amber eyes catch yours in the dim light, levelling you with a look. “A lot could change in the two weeks that I’ve barely seen you.”

“Is that what this is about?” He asks, voice low and somehow too smooth and even, tilting his head to the side. “That explains why she made the effort to do this.”

He doesn’t back down, doesn’t even look away in any semblance of guilt, which is infuriating. You’re about to tell him so when you’re cut off abruptly, words dissolving into nothing but a short gasp as his head lowers, lips, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth along the much too exposed skin of one of your breasts.

You blink, looking down at yourself, startled. It appears that whilst your friend was engaged in skirmishing with you, she had managed to tactfully pull open a few buttons from your shirt, splitting it just so that one of your breasts is tantalizingly exposed, nipple barely covered by the remaining fabric.

It’s fabric that is quickly shoved to the side as Fox, eyes never leaving yours as he does, takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling over the bud, encouraging it to harden between warm lips.

“It’s almost like this was... planned,” he muses, accentuating his words with a sharp pinch as he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, smirking at the way you jolt with surprise. His breath ghosts along the column of your throat as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Wasn’t it, cyar’ika.”

You’re prevented from answering when his teeth nip at your earlobe, causing any words you had in your mind to fall away, giving way to a shiver as you arch into him. A thrill runs through your body, and a pleasant hum has replaced the void where your thoughts used to be. If you had the sense to be embarrassed about how easy it was for him to get you like this, you would be. But right now, pushed up against the wall with him looming over you, it takes all you have to reach for him, fingers trying to find perch’s between his armour plating.

“Fox,” you let out a whine, tilting your head up to look at him pleadingly as you press yourself against him.

“Uh uh,” he chides, quickly extricating your hands. “These stay here,” he orders, swiftly pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. “If you know what’s good for you,” he continues darkly.

“A and what if I don’t?” You try to challenge, but your voice comes out in more of a squeak, wobbling slightly, as his fingers trail down your sides, just teasing at the skin beneath your shirt.

He chuckles, the sound a husky, dangerous rumble in his throat. Abruptly, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling both your skirt and panties down with him in one harsh tug. They pool around your feet on the floor.

“Oh, meshla,” he coos at you, voice dripping with mock sincerity as one gloved fingertip, tantalizingly featherlight, sweeps through your already wet folds, only grazing over your clit enough to make your hips stutter in surprise before he pulls away.

“Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you will.”

Your ability to form a quick witted retort to that is greatly impeded, and ultimately foiled, probably intentionally, by Fox lifting one of your legs, manoeuvring it so it drapes over the curve of one of those broad, imposing shoulders of his.

Before you’re given time to react to this sudden shift of balance, he’s leaning forward, his impatience evident in the way he roughly holds your thighs apart as he does. Your clit is suckled into his mouth with an almost unadulterated greed as it’s pulled between his lips, tongue barely fluttering over it before your hips jolt, and the sound that manages to escape you, half in surprise, half a needy whine before you manage to check yourself, remembering where, exactly, he’s doing this to you, sounds just about as uncontrolled as his actions are.

He pulls back, only to give you a deceptively teasing smirk as he tugs off his gloves. “What’s the matter, cyar?” He almost purrs, a now gloveless finger slowly teasing at your entrance, eyes fixated on how you clench around nothing. “Got nothing to say now?”

He evidently finds his ability to have you this riled up with only a few touches amusing, because he’s again leaning forward before you can respond. A series of gentle kitten licks targeted at your clit, as his finger slowly presses into your heat has you forgetting about that fact quickly, the only sound escaping your lips being that of a strangled gasp-moan.

With the way his lips quirk and he lets out a small hum of satisfaction, the vibrations of which run through your body like a shockwave that leaves you breathless, it’s evident that this is exactly the way he wants you, squirming and desperate.

“Fox, I, we can’t do this here ohh.”

You lose track of the point you were trying to make with the smallest movement of his finger, almost gentle as it curls inside you, just brushing over your G spot, causing you to start stammering.

“Mm, why’s that, princess?” He asks, pulling out his finger only so that he can insistently begin to open you up with a second. “I don’t really think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, hm?”

Teeth nipping at that sensitive spot high on your inner thigh silences your retort. “So pretty,” he breathes, almost to himself as his tongue lazily soothes over the mark he’s made, before he’s back on your clit, lips, tongue, and fingers that curl and press and thrust all working to bring you up and straight to the edge.

And take you to the edge, he does. Within minutes that feel like seconds, he has you arching your back, pushing your hips to meet the delicious, constant thrust of his fingers and the targeted, precise teasing of his tongue and lips against your already sensitive clit, breathless begging and pleading because you’re just, you need, you’re almost.

There’s an audible clap as you desperately press your hand against your mouth, trying to silence the high-pitched, feverish whimper that’s fighting to escape your lips because there, right there, rightfuckingthereyoujust...

Then he’s pulling away, releasing your clit with an obscene sounding wet pop as he rises to his feet, calm and totally unfazed in the face of your obvious frustrated desperation, hips still vainly moving in an attempt to find something that’s no longer there. He looks down at you, watching with evident amusement in his eyes as you lose the high that he’s given you, languidly taking the time to idly suck on his fingers, still slick with your arousal as he waits.

He’s patient, simply staring down at your quivering form as he holds you within his scrutiny, deliberately drawing out the silence until the tension has grown thick, and it starts to make you feel disquieted, nervous, almost like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have and you’re now waiting for him to pronounce your punishment.

Only then, only once he sees the realization dawn on your face and your eyes widen slightly does he reach out, lightly tracing one finger over the back of your hand.

Your hand that he told you to stay above your head on the wall.

Your hand that is, right now, still pressed firmly against your half open mouth.

“I thought I told you,” he muses casually, fingers delicately wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your lips, “to keep these where I put them.”

You swallow, but look up at him with a falsely innocent expression because fuck it, you’re already out of the frying pan, might as well just jump headfirst into the fire.

“Well, technically you told me to do that only if I knew what was good for me, so... guess I don’t,” you say with a shrug, flashing him a smirk.

“Hm,” he huffs, pondering as he continues to hold your wrist, giving it a squeeze in warning. “So it appears you don’t.”

Within seconds, he’s smoothly spun you around, and pulled both of your wrists behind your back, with a speed that’s so succinct that you don’t even comprehend what’s happening until the heavy, cold weight of the binders settles against your skin, locking your wrists in place with a smooth, resounding click.

Oh.

A hand on your back gently nudges you forward and without question, you begin to walk, only pausing when he’s directed you to stand in front of a desk, the height of which reaches just above your waist. He urges you down, hand pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re bent over, skin flush against the cool wood.

You jump when his voice appears, low and inches away from your ear as he leans over you, hands delicately scheming down your sides as he speaks.

“Oh, meshla, you misunderstand me,” he purrs, and he can’t resist gently nipping at your earlobe just to hear the small noise of surprise that escapes you and feel the way your body shivers beneath him.

You hear him settle behind you, armoured knees hitting the ground with a dull thump as his hands, warm and rough, ease your thighs apart, holding them wide.

Fingers lazily circle you’re already swollen clit as he continues. “You can cum, pretty girl. In fact, I want you to cum, and I want everyone outside to be able to hear all those pretty sounds you make when you do it.”

Outside, a muffled round of drunken cheering from several of his vode seems to punctuate his demand, causing your heart to quicken, and before you’re given time to really think about it, he’s opening you further, diving back in with his lips and tongue as his hands continue to hold your thighs apart.

For a moment, it’s just hot, heavy breaths, warm air tickling and brushing against your incredibly sensitive clit, the barest sensation and the heat enough to pull a breathless “mmm” from your lips, hips desperately pushing back against his waiting mouth.

You both know that you’re not going to last long, so Fox takes time to relish each moment he spends in between your thighs, every movement of his tongue and lips deliberate and controlled. The firm muscle of the flat of his tongue pressing against you is neither frantic nor fast, but it urges and demands with an almost maddening precision. The slightest role of his tongue over the bud as his lips pull you into his mouth nearly does you in, turning small, gasping whimpers into “oh please I fuck I please,” without any regard to the level of your voice.

Fox hums a response, and after that, you’re done, tipped over the edge by just the slightest nudge as if you had been clinging to it by your fingertips, and were now free falling.

You only come back to yourself when you feel fingernails raking up your trembling thighs, and Fox’s low, husky voice as he stares up at you.

“Mm, good,” he murmurs, running a finger through your sensitive folds just to watch you tremor.

He rises to his feet, and you’re not sure what you’re expecting him to do, if anything. Your mind is so addled by your orgasm that it comes completely unanticipated.

A quick, stinging swat lands against your ass, calloused fingers caressing over the skin as soon as it begins to heat beneath the palm of his hand. It makes you let out of rather undignified, surprised squeak, hands instinctively trying to move to cover yourself, but of course, they’re not going anywhere. The unforgiving metal of the binders cooley nipping at your skin as you strain being a good enough reminder of that.

“But I think you can do better.”

There’s the familiar sound of his codpiece being unclipped, a small clang as it hits the floor and is kicked away without consequence. Fox lets out a low groan, the only evidence to suggest that he’s nearly as affected as you are as he pulls himself free of his blacks, taking his hard length into his hand.

Your head drops to the desk, which is met with an immediate tsk of disapproval, Fox threading his fingers through your hair as he tugs it back up, pulling just enough to ensure that the tingle is painful, a reprimand as sharp as his words.

“Keep your head up, princess,” he orders sternly. “I want everyone to hear the sounds you make when I fuck you.”

He glides his cock through your wet folds, pausing to tease a few circles around your clit with the head as he continues. “And I want everyone to know how good I make you cum.”

The head of his cock lightly slaps against your clit, punctuating his words and causing the already overly sensitive nerves to spark and tingle. The whine that leaves your parted lips is a needy, pitiful thing.

You hear his low, throaty chuckle as he backs off, nudging the glistening head of his cock between your parted lips, smoothly lining himself up at your entrance. With one drawn out, controlled roll of his hips, he’s sinking into you, hands coming to grasp your hips as your tight, warm heat clenches around him.

Once he’s fully seated himself, feeling your walls fluttering around him, he moves, adjusting his angle in several quick, sharp snaps of his hips as he gages your response. When he finds the angle that has you crying out the loudest, and he’s satisfied that his cock insistently nudges against your G spot with every thrust, he begins to move in earnest.

Fox sets an even, measured pace, pulling back only to thrust back in with more power and intensity behind the insistent movement of his hips, cock pressing against all of those spots that need to be touched, caressed, and stretched for him.

Only when it starts to build inside you, because really, after you’ve already came from the talents of his skilled tongue, it really doesn’t take much to bring you back up, only once you start moaning and writhing beneath him does the rhythm change, not stopping, but slowing considerably as his fingers grasp at your hips, pulling you against him and keeping you still despite your squirming and protests.

You can feel his armour plates digging against your skin as he moves, the cold, unforgiving plastoid in combination with the hot slick of skin on skin as he firmly presses your hips against him is dizzying, and sends your head spinning with each gentle pulse of his throbbing cock.

He holds you there, keeping your ass pressed flush against his pelvis, only allowing small, controlled ruts of his hips that brush his cock against your walls, his form radiating patience and authority as he looms over you, watching as you mercilessly struggle for him to give you more than what he’s allowing.

Your hips try to push back, to do anything, but without being able to brace your hands, you’re not getting anywhere fast at all, and your struggle to gain any kind of leverage ends with you throwing your head back, letting out a high-pitched, frustrated whine as you look back at your tormentor, who watches with an almost impassive expression, eyes dark.

He sweeps your hair over your shoulder, littering a trail of hot kisses and sharp bites along the exposed column of your throat as he moves to your ear.

“Got something to say, meshla?” He coos condescendingly, nuzzling his nose against your neck and letting out a warm breath that sends goosebumps down your spine.

Under the full weight of his attention, he manages to scatter the few strings of coherent words that your brain was trying to piece together into something useful. All you can do is moan helplessly, feebly pushing back against him in an attempt to get him to move in vain.

“Hm,” he muses, and you feel the brief scraping of teeth as he runs them along your shoulder. “Guess not. Maybe I’ll just stay here, until you can figure out how to use your pretty mouth to tell me what you want.”

You know what he wants, and it only takes one small, barely there nudge of his hips for it to come spilling out of you, with minimal protest or fight.

“Please, sir, please,” you beg, both cheeks and eyes burning at how unsteady your voice sounds. “Please fuck me.”

“Ah,” he pretends to come to the understanding and that bastard, you don’t have to look at him to know that there’s a devilish smirk on his face as one of his hands leaves your hips, dipping to run along your inner thigh.

“Understood,” he says, voice as short and crisp as if he’s just barking an order to one of his troopers.

With that, he withdraws, unsheathing himself so slowly that every inch of him drags along your walls as he pulls out. Then, without warning, grasping your hip tightly, he slams back into you, pushing against your tightness and pulling you back onto him at the same time. His pace is now brisk, unyielding, and unwaveringly steady as he impales you on his cock, letting out low, breathy sounds, pausing to listen to the mules and moans that leave you in response.

As soon as he starts hitting someplace deep, quick and primal and constant, your back is arching, your ability to form any coherent words seemingly depleted.

Or at least, that’s what you think, until his hand, that had up until this point been squeezing and massaging the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, moves in between your legs, fingers expertly catching on your clit, circling, pressing, and the occasional tap against the overly sensitive bud that has you gasping and jolting in place.

“Fox,” you whimper desperately, hips wriggling even though there’s nowhere to go. “Please.”

Whether you’re saying please to beg him to stop because you can’t, it’s too much, or you’re saying please because you want, you need him to never stop, to keep going because the attention he’s lavishing on your clit combined with the delicious way he’s filling and stretching you on his cock feels so wonderfully good is unclear.

The decision is quickly taken out of your hands when Fox, evidently seeing how close you are, abruptly adjusts his angle, redirecting his focus yet again to your G spot, hips rolling against you as he targets it with small, precise and shallow thrusts.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, hand releasing your hip to rake his fingernails down your spine. “Cum,” he orders, giving your clit another tap before he continues his tantalizing circles. “Cum for me.”

You throw your head back, spine contorting as you arch, only vaguely aware of the desk digging into your ribs as you cum, eyes squeezing shut and walls clamping down on him as some sound that you don’t even begin to hear nor control is ripped from your throat.

Only then does his pace falter and does he pull you back onto him to bury himself to the hilt within you, cold armour plating firmly pressing against your ass and your thighs, as he lets out a long, low rumble as he stills within you, spilling his release within your warm, convulsing heat.

You’re aware of your head falling against the desk, finally too exhausted to keep it up as your body trembles with aftershocks. You’re aware of his hand, soothing as it strokes through your hair. You’re aware of him slowly easing himself out, you think you might make a small sound at the loss, judging by his low chuckle, but you’re not sure.

You only really begin to engage with the world again when you feel the rush of liquid leaving your core, causing you to let out a small gasp.

“Shh, little one, s’okay,” Fox murmurs, gathering the mix of his and your release that glistens on your folds with his fingers, slowly pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper.

He guides your legs back into your panties and skirt with tender hands, pulling you to your feet and reaching around you to button up your top.

It’s only when he’s about to steer you out of the room that you realize.

“Fox?” You say with a frown, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna, you know, undo the binders?”

He looks at you, hands occupied with snapping his codpiece back into place.

“No,” he responds shortly. “You still instigated a fight. I at least have to play off the charade that I’m taking you back to HQ.”

He sets his helmet back on his head, and even though you can no longer see his face, you know that there’s amusement in his eyes, because even though this was your plan, he still has the last laugh.

“This is still a punishment, and considering I’m letting you off the hook in terms of having to pay a fine, it’s a rather generous alternative, don’t you think, Meshla?” He reminds you lowly, voice clear even through his helmet modulator. “Get moving,” he orders, nudging you forward impatiently.

your mouth drops open as the noise from outside slowly filters into your ears.

He’s about to make you walk through the bar.

Your wrist still in binders as he escorts you out.

Past many of his vode.

With his cum still leaking out of you and the fresh bite marks that he scattered across your neck and shoulders like ornaments.

They’ll take one look at you, and even if they hadn’t managed to hear some of what was going on, which, judging by the dryness in your throat, would be a complete miracle of the force, they’ll know exactly what you did with the Marshall commander whom they all serve under and fuck, the burning twinge of humiliation should not effortlessly combine with some sort of excitement, but it does.

Your cheeks flush, and it takes all of your willpower to start shuffling your feet forward.

Well played, Commander. Well played indeed.

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priffi · 2 months

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they're both assholes, can we acknowledge that? he did some shit but he also doesn't deserve the extra shit she's doing. she's allowed to speak out but she's not allowed to bring that extra pain. there's a reason he's coming back and it's not because he wants to but because he has to my god

#im not trying to defend him in any way but can we at least acknowledge that harrassment and docxing are not of his own invitation or accord #like can she leave the situation alone atp. he's not coming back nor does he plan on or trying it so can you stop practically #shouting into fifty megaphones trying to get his attention and hurting him in the process?#this punishment doesn't “cancel” out the crime because they're both bad. there #im sick of this place and there and i honestly have tried to move on from him so can we at least #given that we are trying to “deplatform” him #not give him the attention or time of mind and not in a sense that he hasn't been #punished enough but that it really doesn't matter? is this issue involving you?#i was hurt by this too. but im doing my best to get over it and i don't know why SHE of all people is failing the most at it #if you broke your arms and legs and need someone to call help there's no need to flail your limbs around your shouting was enough #perspective #nbh

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youjustfeelthemforever · 1 month

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Cried over an English test but hey I'm alive

#very pissed at the teacher #i wasn't there the day of the test but i was there when they were handed back #so i got to take a look at the format and it was pretty simple #describe each literary device listed and give an example #so i thought i would be doing that. i could do that #but i show up today and the test he gives me is completely different #it says to identify the literary device in each sentence. the thing is #EVERY SINGLE ONE HAS MULTIPLE OF THE OPTIONS #so i asked the teacher and he said “yeah but they all have one that's the most correct just trust your instincts”#AND IM JUST SITTING THERE LIKE HELLO?????? “MOST CORRECT”????????#NONE OF THEM ARE MORE CORRECT THAN THE OTHERS #and i told him this!!!! and he said “just pick the most obvious one and don't second guess yourself”#OKAY WELL HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT WHAT IS IMMEDIATELY MOST OBVIOUS TO YOU IS NOT NECESSARILY THE SAME FOR ME #AND THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME WRONG???????????#FUCKING HELL #LEARN TO. IDEK. LEARN SOME COMMON SENSE DUDE #my reaction must have been pretty extreme bc the girl next to me was like “hey you'll do fine” and asked how i was doing a few times #appreciate you girlie you're a real one #so yeah i cried two or three times BUT did not let the tears leave my eyes #one point with just out of frustration bc the teacher said something wrong. and then later he corrected himself #and even though it was easier after that i still cried bc i was losing my mind #anyway i normally like this teacher but this was fucking stupid #everyone stop whatever you're doing and only pay attention to me #ann rants

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tonycries · 2 months

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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h.

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.

And then it’s all black.

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”

“It’s al-”

“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh.

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit.

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.

All for him.

It’s too much.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.

You.

And then he’s cumming.

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture.

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do.

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”

Except maybe those.

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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