cupidsval

[cupidsval]

it was a mistake to date CHOSO KAMO, let alone break his heart with a grudged split bundled in the sugarcoating saccharinity of being ‘just friends' instead. he's the bassist of a not-so-niche midwest emo band. you should have known better.

and since said mistake, the sound of your voice cropped from a message left after the tone overlaid with edgy acoustic, endowed with a title something along the lines of ‘Pissing In My Neighbour’s pool’ now periodically haunts your social’s feed in intervals of every. five. scrolls.

even before that, the man had the gall to send it to you mid-production. crappy. unprovoked. and maybe you’d gone a little overboard with the weirdly specific insults that sounded almost too crafted to not have been premeditated - but how were you supposed to know the entire interaction was a setup to secretly record more material for that borderline slanderous song?

so now, a tally more mistakes later, two minutes worth of your verbal-evisceration-voicemail layered over unfairly cathartic guitar and the shitty singing of the frontman you’re pretty sure goes by the name ‘six eyes’ is going triple platinum in every angsty juvenile’s bedroom.

you really wanted to hate it, too. it’s pretty unfortunate to come to the conclusion that a song dressed like a smear campaign driven by cigarettes and the budget of a shoelace isn’t that bad.

hell, you even nodded to yourself when you played it fully for the first time. acting all introspective like you could nearly see the appeal of staring up at a ceiling for hours with cheap liquor in hand, unearthing emotional dumpster fires to the vocal fry and cracks of a man with many unresolved issues.

and considering how popular it’s gotten, maybe you should risk being the refrain of the interpolation to ask for a share of the revenue.

[cupidsval]

it was a mistake to date CHOSO KAMO, let alone break his heart with a grudged split bundled in the sugarcoating saccharinity of being ‘just friends' instead. he's the bassist of a not-so-niche midwest emo band. you should have known better.

and since said mistake, the sound of your voice cropped from a message left after the tone overlaid with edgy acoustic, endowed with a title something along the lines of ‘Pissing In My Neighbour’s pool’ now periodically haunts your social’s feed in intervals of every. five. scrolls.

even before that, the man had the gall to send it to you mid-production. crappy. unprovoked. and maybe you’d gone a little overboard with the weirdly specific insults that sounded almost too crafted to not have been premeditated - but how were you supposed to know the entire interaction was a setup to secretly record more material for that borderline slanderous song?

so now, a tally more mistakes later, two minutes worth of your verbal-evisceration-voicemail layered over unfairly cathartic guitar and the shitty singing of the frontman you’re pretty sure goes by the name ‘six eyes’ is going triple platinum in every angsty juvenile’s bedroom.

you really wanted to hate it, too. it’s pretty unfortunate to come to the conclusion that a song dressed like a smear campaign driven by cigarettes and the budget of a shoelace isn’t that bad.

hell, you even nodded to yourself when you played it fully for the first time. acting all introspective like you could nearly see the appeal of staring up at a ceiling for hours with cheap liquor in hand, unearthing emotional dumpster fires to the vocal fry and cracks of a man with many unresolved issues.

and considering how popular it’s gotten, maybe you should risk being the refrain of the interpolation to ask for a share of the revenue.

[cupidsval]

doing boyfie!toru’s makeup ᡣ𐭩

“AM I PRETTY YET?” SATORU’S cheesy grin falters into something stiff under your warning glare.

“don’t smile. you’ll crease the concealer.” you bark the command like a sergeant impelling drills to an incompetent platoon. your boyfriend stifles a smirk beneath the beauty blender, watching up at you through half-lined lids.

“am i allowed to breathe, ma’am?” he asks with mock-seriousness, expression wooden save for the mirth dancing in his gaze.

the answer is simple, of course: “no.”

he snuffs a snort through an exhale of his nose, biting his lip to uselessly muffle his amusement. your eyes narrow to slits, the hand on his hairline craning him back in half a punishment, half a reach for a better angle. pearly lashes bat, you mutter something barely vexed.

for a man so strong, you barely expected him to twitch under the glide of your brush. but he does, all ticklish under your touch as your hand moves to cup his jaw next.

“hmm...” you hum, gently tilting him side to side in inspection. it’s finishing touches now, the last few details of a makeup look satoru agreed to act as a makeshift mannequin for. dramatic falsies flutter open at your quiet, baby blues casting a glance to a mirror poised nearby.

glossed lips part and brows peak in surprise. about to chastise, you’re cut off with a gasp.

“i’m beautiful.”

[cupidsval]

thinking about choso with virgin!reader ᡣ𐭩

HE’D BE SO SOFT, GENTLY cajoling you to comfort. the kind of saccharine that acts more like foreplay than a balm to your ignited nerves…

“oh. baby.” his groan melts into a rumble, water pilled across the expanse of his skin from the lingering drops of his shower. “you’re so gorgeous.” it comes out as a reverent whisper when his hands smooth over the plump of your thighs, unhurried to reach your need, clad in a cotton scrap of fabric.

“cho.” the hush snares in your throat when his chestnut hues flit to catch your gaze. it’s not the eye-contact alone that makes your heart stutter. no, it’s the way the already dim light is practically drowned in the dilated blacks when he’s looking up at you with such blatant hunger.

it starts with kitten licks over your long-damp panties, the flat of his tongue dragging across the seam of your slit, working you up to shivers that make your legs strain to close beneath his hold. you gasp at the brush against your clit, head tilting back in a feeling so alien yet addictive.

he slips the material down your legs soon after. your back lurches off the pillows once he eases a finger inside, whine cracking in your throat at the breach. with shoulders still braced against your legs, he watches the way your pussy squeezes around the intrusion, mirth in his eyes, smirk curling his mouth when he pushes in a second.

“making the prettiest noises for me.” he murmurs in something like worship, as if the dirty talk’s a prayer. with his free hand cradling the buck of your hips, choso leans down to lave at the peak of nerves at the apex of your puffy folds, tongue tracing what your reeling mind just about registers as his name. 

digits pumping in and out, he isn’t satisfied until you’ve come at least twice before he finally positions himself over you.

“tell me it hurts and i’ll stop straight away, okay?” he knows it'll be a stretch, but it doesn’t come out smug - it comes out ragged, like he means the words with every fibre of his being. so you nod, the plush of your lower lip caught between your teeth as the head of his length sinks past the snug ring of your entrance.

his fingers couldn’t have prepared you for the thickness, no way in hell. he plunges into you, heavy inch by heavy inch, slow enough for you to accommodate the pressured weight, soon enough that your toes curl and your eyes wrench shut. 

“f-fuck-” your voice splits a pitch higher once he’s fully sheathed inside your vice-tight heat. you hear him moan, low in his throat like you’re killing him. your hands are balled into fists, to which his own slide up your palm to lace his fingers with yours.

“breathe, angel. breathe.” he pants mostly for you, half a reminder to himself, forehead dropping to your collar because you squeeze around him tighter. “tell me when you’re ready.” puffing moments later. winded, breathless. 

seconds pass, you nod the permission. and he pulls back a fraction, shallow thrusts followed by deeper strokes when your legs instinctively lock around his waist, coaxing him in deeper. harder.

he swallows your mewls with a press of his plush lips against your own, hips clashing against yours in a hypnotic rhythm that makes you dizzy. your nails scrape reddened crescents into his flexing shoulder blades, eyes rolling back behind fluttering lashes when the tip of his cock digs into that spongy patch that has you seeing white.

“m’coming again- ah, c-choso—!” you writhe beneath him, mouth dropping open in a choked moan, the heel of your palms slamming forcefully against his back to crowd yourself under his weight.

back arching wildly, stuttering chest flushing against his, you crest with a loud, wanton cry. your calves cramp when you tug him into you roughly, an almost bawdy strength possessing you to try and smother yourself beneath your boyfriend from the ferocity of your summit.

twitching, he follows soon after, spilling into you with a shuddering sigh of “i love you”  while your pussy unforgivingly cinches around his cock. 

“baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself-” he wheezes in the aftermath when you pull him against you harsher, smaller arms feeble but determined to keep him pressed into you. heartbeat hammering against his, your body lightly jerks as his length slowly softens inside you.

you both heave in the heft of the silence for a while, your spent arms eventually loosening around him just enough for him to gently push off and lay you beside him, cock still buried deep inside, keeping you plugged up. 

“thank you.” you mumble, voice suddenly hoarse with sleepy fatigue now that the weight of your multiple orgasms has buried itself deep, leaving you boneless atop the mess of sheets he’s just fucked you into. choso snorts in response.

“thank you?” he murmurs in repeat, smile thick in his voice as his large hand comes up to sweetly push sweat-slicked strands of hair from your forehead. the haul of the deepened intimacy softens his simper. until you lazily slur the rest.

“for making me come so hard.”

[cupidsval]

“KUNAAA.” YOU WHINE LOWLY INTO your phone's speaker, kicking your feet up the bed, pitchy voice teetering into something dangerously annoying. “want. it. now.”

your roommate sighs deep into his own, dragging a hand over his pinched expression. “so fuckin’ needy. never know when to quit.” his sneer is palpable from your end of the line.

it makes you pause. for less than a second, you consider the very real possibility of him cutting the call completely, leaving you aching and empty in the sheets. well, possibilities be damned. you try again.

“but i’ve been waiting all day.” you puff, rolling prone atop the silk bedding, hoping the poutiness of your plea earns begrudging sympathy rather than an admonishment deserved.

you hear shuffling on his end, catching a muttered “i’ve been waiting all day” in a cadence so shrill it barely counts as an imitation.

“actin’ like i care.” a grumble, then a huff. “can’t fucking teleport, brat.” it’s a little more muted, a stroke less hostile. a grin almost splits your lips. almost, since you take his indignation as a chance to fuss a little more.

“so you’re saying you don’t care about me.” you sniffle for excess effect. it’s fun to dance on his nerves.

this is it. this is the breaking point. you glean a groan that roughens into a growl before the call abruptly ends. beep beep beep. you toss your phone, eyes rolling, stomach growling, because you know it’ll be ages till he comes back with the takeout you ordered.

[cupidsval]

thinking about choso with virgin!reader ᡣ𐭩

HE’D BE SO SOFT, GENTLY cajoling you to comfort. the kind of saccharine that acts more like foreplay than a balm to your ignited nerves…

“oh. baby.” his groan melts into a rumble, water pilled across the expanse of his skin from the lingering drops of his shower. “you’re so gorgeous.” it comes out as a reverent whisper when his hands smooth over the plump of your thighs, unhurried to reach your need, clad in a cotton scrap of fabric.

“cho.” the hush snares in your throat when his chestnut hues flit to catch your gaze. it’s not the eye-contact alone that makes your heart stutter. no, it’s the way the already dim light is practically drowned in the dilated blacks when he’s looking up at you with such blatant hunger.

it starts with kitten licks over your long-damp panties, the flat of his tongue dragging across the seam of your slit, working you up to shivers that make your legs strain to close beneath his hold. you gasp at the brush against your clit, head tilting back in a feeling so alien yet addictive.

he slips the material down your legs soon after. your back lurches off the pillows once he eases a finger inside, whine cracking in your throat at the breach. with shoulders still braced against your legs, he watches the way your pussy squeezes around the intrusion, mirth in his eyes, smirk curling his mouth when he pushes in a second.

“making the prettiest noises for me.” he murmurs in something like worship, as if the dirty talk’s a prayer. with his free hand cradling the buck of your hips, choso leans down to lave at the peak of nerves at the apex of your puffy folds, tongue tracing what your reeling mind just about registers as his name. 

digits pumping in and out, he isn’t satisfied until you’ve come at least twice before he finally positions himself over you.

“tell me it hurts and i’ll stop straight away, okay?” he knows it'll be a stretch, but it doesn’t come out smug - it comes out ragged, like he means the words with every fibre of his being. so you nod, the plush of your lower lip caught between your teeth as the head of his length sinks past the snug ring of your entrance.

his fingers couldn’t have prepared you for the thickness, no way in hell. he plunges into you, heavy inch by heavy inch, slow enough for you to accommodate the pressured weight, soon enough that your toes curl and your eyes wrench shut. 

“f-fuck-” your voice splits a pitch higher once he’s fully sheathed inside your vice-tight heat. you hear him moan, low in his throat like you’re killing him. your hands are balled into fists, to which his own slide up your palm to lace his fingers with yours.

“breathe, angel. breathe.” he pants mostly for you, half a reminder to himself, forehead dropping to your collar because you squeeze around him tighter. “tell me when you’re ready.” puffing moments later. winded, breathless. 

seconds pass, you nod the permission. and he pulls back a fraction, shallow thrusts followed by deeper strokes when your legs instinctively lock around his waist, coaxing him in deeper. harder.

he swallows your mewls with a press of his plush lips against your own, hips clashing against yours in a hypnotic rhythm that makes you dizzy. your nails scrape reddened crescents into his flexing shoulder blades, eyes rolling back behind fluttering lashes when the tip of his cock digs into that spongy patch that has you seeing white.

“m’coming again- ah, c-choso—!” you writhe beneath him, mouth dropping open in a choked moan, the heel of your palms slamming forcefully against his back to crowd yourself under his weight.

back arching wildly, stuttering chest flushing against his, you crest with a loud, wanton cry. your calves cramp when you tug him into you roughly, an almost bawdy strength possessing you to try and smother yourself beneath your boyfriend from the ferocity of your summit.

twitching, he follows soon after, spilling into you with a shuddering sigh of “i love you”  while your pussy unforgivingly cinches around his cock. 

“baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself-” he wheezes in the aftermath when you pull him against you harsher, smaller arms feeble but determined to keep him pressed into you. heartbeat hammering against his, your body lightly jerks as his length slowly softens inside you.

you both heave in the heft of the silence for a while, your spent arms eventually loosening around him just enough for him to gently push off and lay you beside him, cock still buried deep inside, keeping you plugged up. 

“thank you.” you mumble, voice suddenly hoarse with sleepy fatigue now that the weight of your multiple orgasms has buried itself deep, leaving you boneless atop the mess of sheets he’s just fucked you into. choso snorts in response.

“thank you?” he murmurs in repeat, smile thick in his voice as his large hand comes up to sweetly push sweat-slicked strands of hair from your forehead. the haul of the deepened intimacy softens his simper. until you lazily slur the rest.

“for making me come so hard.”

[cupidsval]

doing boyfie!toru’s makeup ᡣ𐭩

“AM I PRETTY YET?” SATORU’S cheesy grin falters into something stiff under your warning glare.

“don’t smile. you’ll crease the concealer.” you bark the command like a sergeant impelling drills to an incompetent platoon. your boyfriend stifles a smirk beneath the beauty blender, watching up at you through half-lined lids.

“am i allowed to breathe, ma’am?” he asks with mock-seriousness, expression wooden save for the mirth dancing in his gaze.

the answer is simple, of course: “no.”

he snuffs a snort through an exhale of his nose, biting his lip to uselessly muffle his amusement. your eyes narrow to slits, the hand on his hairline craning him back in half a punishment, half a reach for a better angle. pearly lashes bat, you mutter something barely vexed.

for a man so strong, you barely expected him to twitch under the glide of your brush. but he does, all ticklish under your touch as your hand moves to cup his jaw next.

“hmm...” you hum, gently tilting him side to side in inspection. it’s finishing touches now, the last few details of a makeup look satoru agreed to act as a makeshift mannequin for. dramatic falsies flutter open at your quiet, baby blues casting a glance to a mirror poised nearby.

glossed lips part and brows peak in surprise. about to chastise, you’re cut off with a gasp.

“i’m beautiful.”

[cupidsval]

“KUNAAA.” YOU WHINE LOWLY INTO your phone's speaker, kicking your feet up the bed, pitchy voice teetering into something dangerously annoying. “want. it. now.”

your roommate sighs deep into his own, dragging a hand over his pinched expression. “so fuckin’ needy. never know when to quit.” his sneer is palpable from your end of the line.

it makes you pause. for less than a second, you consider the very real possibility of him cutting the call completely, leaving you aching and empty in the sheets. well, possibilities be damned. you try again.

“but i’ve been waiting all day.” you puff, rolling prone atop the silk bedding, hoping the poutiness of your plea earns begrudging sympathy rather than an admonishment deserved.

you hear shuffling on his end, catching a muttered “i’ve been waiting all day” in a cadence so shrill it barely counts as an imitation.

“actin’ like i care.” a grumble, then a huff. “can’t fucking teleport, brat.” it’s a little more muted, a stroke less hostile. a grin almost splits your lips. almost, since you take his indignation as a chance to fuss a little more.

“so you’re saying you don’t care about me.” you sniffle for excess effect. it’s fun to dance on his nerves.

this is it. this is the breaking point. you glean a groan that roughens into a growl before the call abruptly ends. beep beep beep. you toss your phone, eyes rolling, stomach growling, because you know it’ll be ages till he comes back with the takeout you ordered.