#like I know it might not be as special or exciting to you as it is to me but why dismiss it like that anyway??

[jakesangel]

first date w jake ꣑୧

jake might seem cocky n super flirty but when it comes to blossoming love he is more the shy type. giggles hidden behind his hands n flirty joke said w a hint of embarrassment, this is how newly love w jake feels like. but as much as shy he is he will never back down in shooting his shot w the pretty girl right in front of him, do you wanna go to see a movie w me someday ? he would shyly say, looking away as his hand would be behind his head, a soothing manner to cope w his anxiety. but as he senses your flustered state, his would slowly fade away, specially when you agree to his offer. 8pm tonight ? the one in the shopping mall ? he would add a bit too fast, his excitement barely hidden.

at home, he would totally freak out, the group chat going on fire as he doesn't know how to dress or even process his pretty girl accept a date w him. his heart would beat so so fast, excitement n stress buzzing out of him, he'd even arrive earlier at the cinema, almost 20 minutes early and even on site, he can't stay put. it would be as he sat down, waiting for you,that he'd realize, his mind being full of you, that he forgot to bring flowers, going right back up in search of a fleurist.

seeing you all dolled up, just for him, almost made him fall on his knees, but once he sees you sawing him, finally walking to him smiling, he lost it. h-hi y/n, you look so beautiful, he would say breathless. he even forgot to give you the flowers he bought you, that you'd have to tell him thank you first for him to give it to you. oh yeah sorry, these are for you he would say as he hand them, n if you are flustered or if he his brave enough he would add, you're prettier than them tho. after little chitchat, he would lead you to the reception to buy the tickets n the snacks. he will get you everything you want, some drink n popcorn but wouldn't let you buy anything, you look like a princess, i just treat you like one, no ? or can't let a pretty girl waste her money w such, his true self coming back.

during the movie, he would try to focus but how can he ? you're sitting so close to him, your scent filling up his nose. he would look your way, also using the popcorn between the both of you as an excuse to touch your hand for spilt second. n truly the movie date was a bad idea : he doesnt want to not talk w you, nor not look at you. he is stuck in his chair, darkness surrounding him, blocking his view of you. he has you so close yet so far, he doesnt know what to do. so he just let his body act on his own, hoping it won't make you uncomfortable. his hand would come close to yours, tasting the waters, n as he sees you not pulling away, he'd take your hand in his.

your hands would stay together, thru out the movie, or even throwing out your waste. his hand remain in yours as you walk side by side, walking you to your place. thank you for coming w me today y/n or i really had a good time w you, he would say in front of your front door. could we redo it, another day ?

notes : me when ᵕ᷄≀ ̠˘᷅

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

[carolmunson]

8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml

'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.' virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore) from the 'the nerve' one shot. (18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)

Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.

It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?

He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom -- He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.

He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:

Hi Chrissy What's up, Chris? How are you, Chrissy? Hey Chrissy.

I know you might not be expecting this but This might come as a surprise, but I was wond It would be an honor if Would you want to go to prom with me? Prom?

It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.

He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.

He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.

He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.

And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.

Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.

"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!" "You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.

Going to prom with Jason.

Jason Carver? That asshole?

The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --

"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"

Coulda been you, he thinks.

His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.

Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.

Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.

'Always and forever, Each moment with you, yeah Is just like a dream to me That somehow came true, yeah...'

It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair. "Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?" He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.

"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."

He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."

"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."

He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.

"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.

"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.

"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."

"What about prom?" he asks.

"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."

"No? How come?"

"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."

Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"

You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."

He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.

"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."

"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.

"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom." "Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.

"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.

Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."

"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"

"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."

"This one guy?"

"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."

[betasquads]

HE WAS THE ONE, Niko Omilana

Summary: Are you really there with him because he wants you or are you just... there?

warning: kissing

A/N: trying to clear out my drafts as fast as possible so excuse me if this is rushed 😘

Today was yet another day in the set of the beta squad, and you didn't complain one bit. You enjoyed working with them and at the same time you won money from them. It was a win-win situation.

A real effect to the life you were living was all because of that one man, Nikolas. He met you during a prank he was doing. Just then he realized you were a producer, almost like it was fate as he wanted someone desperately for him and his friends. The beta squad.

Something about today felt really special. Your eyes bored onto your phone as it revealed what day it was. It was March 4. Niko's birthday.

12:00 am.

You were up for filming for them as today they decided to pull an all nighter for Niko's birthday, a tradition they all held in their hearts for everyone who worked on set.

Before you could get up and get ready, you unlocked your phone with a wide smile, your thumb immediately pressing on Niko's contact.

You (at 12:01 am)

Happy birthday Omilana!

Before you could shut your phone to get dressed up, a notification had popped up, not a second passing by.

Neeko Omilanay (at 12:01 am)

Thanks! I appreciate it (you're a schmuck)

When are you arriving on set?

You roll your eyes with a smile, despite having the urge to say it back, you and Niko are friends but you had to stay professional most of the times.

You (at 12:02 am)

I'll be there in 10.

Chunkz had told you that everyone was going to be overly dressed for Niko's birthday and that you needed to be aswell.

He didn't need to tell you twice, you were going to be overdressed either way. For Niko. You were always going to be overdressed for him. Maybe he doesn't feel that way towards you, but you can't help it.

"You have to make sure you're really overdressed." Chunkz insists as you're doing your makeup.

"I know. That's what you've been telling me the past 5 minutes." You rush your makeup, trying to finish as fast as possible as you were the one running late.

"I'm saying like wedding overdressed. The makeup doesn't look strong. We need it stronger." He spoke in an irritated tone. You narrow your eyes at Chunkz in the camera.

"I'm trying!" You groan.

"You wouldn't believe what me and the mandem did." Chunkz speaks as you give him a glance, to give him an indication to let him continue as you couldn't speak because of the lip liner.

"We forced Niko to wear a suit."

You chuckle, almost ruining your lip liner, "No way! He always says that he wouldn't wear a suit for his birthday because he finds it super weird! Yet he finds an excuse to wear it when he trolls people. As if that's not weird enough."

"Everything should be great for Niko. Every second of it. Even if it's us annoying him. He likes it in secret." Chunkz laugh, a smile making its way on your lips.

"I see that smile." Chunkz notices and immediately you're a taken aback at the confrontation.

You weren't even going to deny it. Chunkz already knew. He always knew.

"Mhm. Got him like multiple gifts. So excited to see what he'd think of him. Alright, ill go wear my dress and i'll be there in a few minutes." You both say your goodbyes as you close off the call.

—

You had arrived 5 minutes ago and already greeted everyone, even taking Niko by side to give him your gifts as you were impatient.

"You aren't leaving until you open each one of them." You say in a scolding manner. You eye the gifts that were sat on the table, waiting for it to be opened by him.

"You sure you don't want to eat cake? The frosting might melt." He raises his bushy eyebrows in a suggesting tone, a forced smile on his lips.

You stare at him, bored. You cross your arms as you look at Niko, trying to get him intimidated and give in.

"That look isn't going to do it for me. I'm not intimidated by you y/l/n." He sends you a teasing smile, trying to get you angry.

"You will be when I shove your huge gigantic face into the cake, and no one will eat it because of how unclean your face is. I'm sure it carries a lot of dirt because–"

He laughs at your sad attempt of trying with your insults, "Fine, fine. Stop with the insults. It's deeply offending."

"Is it offending because im right?" You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side.

He looks up and down at you slowly for a long moment, before he chuckles to himself. Like he was laughing at an inside joke.

"Mhm, sure. I'm very offended. I'll just start with that little box right there." He grips the small gift box, staring it for a few seconds before slowly opening it.

His smile drops at what was displayed, looking at you and back at the ticket that laid on the box.

"Oh, wow. A ticket to bora bora?" He says surpised, his eyes wide and yours are admiring him.

"Mhm. Come on, that isn't the only thing I got you. Look at the rest–"

He cuts you off, "y/n, I'm already thankful enough that you're here. An entire ticket to bora bora? This is too much. You should have it, not me." He says in a humble way, your heart fluttering at how shocked he seemed to be.

"Too much? You haven't seen the rest. It's your birthday, have at it. You deserve all of it."

He chuckles, almost like he was a little shy. You could feel your heart skipping a bear at the sight. He pulled two items, his smile dropping at what he was holding. "A toothbrush? And toothpaste?"

"Hello, why are you surprised? You need it for that harsh smell that comes out of your mouth. I can't stand it each time I see you." You pout mockingly.

Aj who was sat on the side making sure to get every moment on his phone laughs, "She did you a favor! Aren't you going to thank her?" Aj picks on him as Niko rolls his eyes, his boyish grin on display.

Niko squints his eyes at him, trying his hardest not to insult him in a way. "Thank you. You helped me save 5 pounds from buying another toothpaste." He mocks at you.

You scoff, almost a bit offended. "Don't lie to both me and yourself, we both know that you never owned a tube of toothpaste let alone a toothbrush until this very moment."

—

After he had checked all your gifts that included a men's bracelet, a water proof watch, an underwater camera for his trip to bora bora, a beach bag, and a specially designed NDL swimwear shorts, he couldn't stop thanking you every single second.

It was almost 3 am, the cake that was specifically made for him was now gone now in everyone's stomach, and the entire place had the people whom you loved was filled with loud laughter.

It was the perfect moment for you to confess. To tell him. You couldn't hold it any longer. He was at the other side of the room, the only man you could ever look at.

You slowly walked up to him, your fingers curling up into a fist to hide how much you were shaking. "Can we talk, outside?"

He turns around, a warm smile appearing at your presence. "Yes sure."

—

It was now or never.

You stood anxiously infront of him, worried that he might've seen how nervous you were.

"y/n? Is everything alright?" He says a bit concerned.

"Everything is alright. Do I not look alright?" You raise your eyebrows.

"No, no. You look fine. I mean no, you don't look fine. I don't mean it like that. You look absolutely stunning– but I just meant that you looked a bit– you know? distressed. Sorry, go on." He stammers, his face flushed in embarrassment.

You daze off for a bit into his face, shaking your head to focus.

It's better if you just get straight to the point, right? "The truth is Niko is that–" You pause, biting your inside cheek, what has gotten into you?

He nods, wanting you to continue on.

That was all you needed.

"I like you, a lot." You blurt out.

" I–" Before you could continue what you had wanted to say, he cuts you off. A cut off that you weren't expecting.

His face fell and his smile wasn't there anymore. Like he had seen a ghost. "You like me?" His face was confused, like he never even considered it in the first place. Because he never felt that way towards you. Not one bit.

His face showed specifically him being a little shocked. He had his lips frowned. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply. A look of empathy. He felt bad for you.

Which meant...

He didn't like you.

Your mouth is slightly parted in shock and your eyes are prickled with tears. Rejection, it was your biggest fear. You were close to shaking your head in disagreement, that was until he gave you a warned look as to not lie to him. God, you felt so embarrassed. You felt like you shouldn't have done that in the first place.

He knew. He knew. And that meant that it wasn't worth lying to his face. Your hands were shaking by your sides, you were almost sure he could see you trembling.

"Uh–huh." You whisper in defeat, like you've accepted you would never be loved by the only person you've ever loved.

"y/n..." He says in a sad tone. He felt sad for you. He takes a step closer once a sob elects from your throat. He tucks the hair strand the was too close to your eyes. You could see it from his eyes that he was trying to give you comfort.

But you couldn't accept it. Especially from him. It was too vulnerable for your liking.

"It's fine. I understand." You nod with a forced smile, despite the tears of heartbreak ruining the makeup you put on midnight. The makeup you put on just for his birthday.

His eyes slowly followed the stained tears that had smudged mascara, "God, this isn't fine. You can't–"

"Niko. Forget this ever happened. We're still friends, right?" You force a grin, wiping your own tears with the back of your hand.

"Wait, we weren't even friends to beg–" He pauses when he realizes what he had just said, not trying to come off as mean.

Your heart had literally dropped. Was he going to just say that you weren't even friends?

You knew what he was about to say before he paused. He thought that you didn't notice, but you always do. He didn't even consider you as his friend. He never did.

This whole time you were just his work partner in his eyes.

He stays silent for a few moments, eyeing you up and down to contemplate what he should do or say.

"Sure. Friends." He mumbles with a faint smile on his lips, his hands itching to hug you or do something. But he just couldn't. Not after that.

He couldn't even look at you the same.

"Let's get to shooting, hm? I'm sure they're waiting." You say in a low tone, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand once again.

"y/n–"

Before he could say yes or even nod, you just walk away.

—

You get out of the lavatory after cleaning up, like you haven't cried at all. You were glad the shooting was over, because you couldn't handle seeing his face.

The entire time you sat behind cameras seeing the boys' faces as they did whatever kind of video they wanted to do, not even focused on what they had planned for today.

You're instead zoning out as you're doing your job.

He never considered you as his friend. You still couldn't get this through your head.

How dare he say that after all these moments and years of working with him?

He was the one who begged everyone to make you one of the crew members.

He was the one who made sure you tagged along each time they had dinner. He didn't even bring his best friend, George. No one from the people behind the camera's were there except for you and the boys.

He was the one who always made sure you were okay after every minor inconvenience.

He was the one who always picked on you for no entirely reason. But hey, you didn't care. It always felt like you had an annoying surprisingly loving brother.

He was the one who always had deep conversations with you and comforted you through everything.

He was the first one whom you met.

After everything, you felt like you were just there. Was all of this just made up in your mind?

—

"I think i'll just head off. I'm too tired." You lie through your teeth as you spoke to Chunkz who told you there would be board games starting, but you knew you couldn't stay another minute.

"You aren't even gonna say goodbye to everyone?" He questions, confused by how you weren't so energetic anymore. You were usually the one who made sure everyone was awake with your loud protests and made sure no one would leave early.

"Well how about you do that for me?" You smile weakly at him, patting him awkwardly on his shoulder.

"Did something happen?" He questions with suspicion.

"Definitely not." You answer too quickly.

He eyes you up and down in silence, aware that you weren't completely telling him the truth. He decides to let it go as he wasn't sure if you wanted to talk about it.

"See you tomorrow?" You question while Chunkz helps you get your things inside your driver's car.

He nods wordlessly, giving you a comforting smile. You watch as Chunkz walks back inside, sighing heavily.

As you're about to get inside, you hear a frantic Niko, calling out your name.

"y/n," He sighs, relieved that he caught up with you before you got in.

"You're still here, you can't just run off like that." He says panting, his eyes wide and scared.

"Niko? What are you doing here?"

"You didn't even let me finish say what i had to say. I–I love you too. I love you so much." He finally breathes out, you could point out how much saying this removed the sadness from his brown arises. Like it had been affecting him this entire time and he finally told you.

"What?" Your eyes are wide; you were sure you were close to fainting.

From the reflection of his eyes, you saw the way your eyes were glistening with hope.

"I didn't know how i felt towards you. God I always pushed it away, because I was scared. And the reason for that? I don't have any idea. Maybe of rejection– or commitment. I'm not even sure. I've never done this. I'm so scared that I might hurt you." His voice was cracking as he was speaking.

But that wasn't what you were focused on. His face was flushed and he was stammering, something you wouldn't see Niko doing. He's never done this.

In your eyes, it always seemed like Niko was the last one to react so much. But you were wrong.

Your eyes softened at his words, "Niko–" You shake your head in shock, but he cuts you off without a doubt.

"Please don't say a word until I'm done. I made you cry because I was an idiot. Because I was selfish and only thought about my own feelings. I'm sorry. Deeply sorry. I understand if you still feel upset with me." He looked sad while saying it. He studies your eyes with a way that no one has ever done, holding on to what your reaction would be.

"I just– God. I get nervous and never know the right thing to say to you. You're just perfect. And what I said back there, I didn't mean it. You were always my friend." He softly mutters under his breath, one of his large hands making its way to tuck the hair strand that was almost got in the way of your eye.

Before you could say a word, his lips are on your forehead, planting a delicate kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you wordlessly enjoy the feeling of him kissing your forehead in the most delicate way.

"And I want it to be more." He whispers against your forehead, slowly holding both of your hands.

When he realizes there was no immediate response, he gets worried once again, "If that's okay with you–"

You couldn't let him finish. Your actions worked faster than your brain as your lips made its way to his, Niko's large hand slowly pulls you in by your hips; he rest them on your waist.

You slide your hand up to his suit to keep your balance, a smile making its way on Niko's lips.

"Does that mean we are official?" He questions against your lips; in which you're the first one to disconnect.

"I don't know, Omilana. When people kiss I don't think they become a family, do they?" You question back with a genuine interest, trying not to show too much sarcasm.

"Are you serious?"

"Are you gullible?"

He scoffs while shaking his head. "I hate you."He opens the door to the driver's car while saying so.

"No, you don't." You respond almost immediately. He shut the door right when you got inside, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Of course I don't. It would be impossible." He whispers silently, only loud enough for you to hear.

"See you today? For the dinner party?" He asks you, looking slightly nervous at your reaction.

"See you later, Omilana."

"Does that mean we're official?"

"Why do you want us to be official?" You raise your eyebrows, a little surprised at how the Nikolas Omilana was practically begging.

"Because I want you to be mine. Like right now. I always hated that the prick Kenny always flirts with you so I wanna confirm that you're mine and I'm yours." He's jaw tightens when he mentions Kenny's name.

You tried to hide your laugh by nodding and biting your inside cheek, "Yea whatever, sure. You don't have to sound like you're begging."

"But I am begging. Have you seen you?"

"Oh, please. I'm getting disgusted from this, driver, please drive off." You giggle once the driver takes off in a high speed, hearing Niko from a distance yelling, "You're a crazy person!"

Ding.

It came from your phone.

Neeko Omilanay (at 4:47 am)

I named you mine with the word shmuck beside it if that's okay with you

also i might've lied. there is no dinner, just a date with you and I alone. be prepared to see your favorite flowers on your bed (don't ask how I got in there, i just did.)

The entire ride was just you with a huge smile on your face. Just an hour ago, you had felt like you couldn't see Niko's face. But now, you have never felt that excited to see him again.

[girlkisser13]

taking the hoo girls to prom

a/n: let me know if i should do a part two or one for the boys.

annabeth chase

• i feel like annabeth would be too nervous to ask you to prom so you would have to end up asking her.

• when you ask her, you'd probably create a puzzle or a riddle of a sort to ask her as your promposal.

• she'd definitely be the one planning pre-prom and post-prom activities. she'd suggest a pre-prom gathering with your friends to take pictures and enjoy some refreshments before heading to the main event.

• annabeth isn't much of a dancer but she will happily dance with you to some of the slower songs and to the songs that she knows.

• you'll definitely teach her some modern dance moves (like tiktok dances Imao).

"hey, annabeth," you said, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "i have something for you."

intrigued, annabeth set aside her books and gave you her full attention. "what is it?"

you handed her the parchment, which was adorned with intricate drawings and cryptic symbols. "it's a puzzle," you explained. "i thought you might enjoy solving it."

annabeth's eyes lit up with curiosity as she studied the parchment. the symbols seemed familiar, yet their arrangement puzzled her. she furrowed her brow in concentration, her mind already racing to decipher the hidden message.

after a few moments of deep concentration, annabeth deciphered the message hidden within the riddle. her eyes widened in surprise as she read aloud:

"annabeth chase, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to prom?"

a smile spread across annabeth's face as she looked up at you, her heart overflowing with warmth. "y/n, i would love to go to prom with you." she said, her voice filled with affection.

hazel levesque

• you're the who asks hazel to prom. you write her a nice poem as your promposal.

• she's pretty old fashioned so you'll probably end up picking her up at 7pm at her doorstep.

• you know that movie scene where your date walks down the stairs of their house as their date watches in awe. yeah the two of you definitely recreate that.

• she most definitely pulls you over to dance to every single slow song.

• you suggest a bunch of jazz songs for the di to play for her because you know she loves them.

• she'd teach you how they danced in the 30's and you'd teach her some modern dance moves.

• the two of spend the night mingling and dancing with your friends.

as you waited nervously at the bottom of the stairs, the anticipation builded with every passing second. tonight was prom night, and you had the honor of escorting hazel levesque, her courage and grace capturing your heart since the day you met her.

finally, the soft sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway, and you look up to see hazel descending the stairs. your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her. she's breathtaking, wearing a dress that seemed to shimmer with every step she took. her hair was styled elegantly, framing her face like a crown, and her smile lit up the room.

as hazel reached the bottom of the stairs, your eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. it was just the two of you, lost in the moment, lost in each other. you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that she chose you to accompany her on this special night.

"wow, hazel," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "you look absolutely stunning."

hazel's cheeks flushed with a soft blush as she reached out to take your hand. "thank you," she says, her voice warm with appreciation. "you don't look too bad yourself."

piper mclean

• the two of you accidentally asked one another at the same time. she made you a poster and bought you a huge bouquet of flowers and you also made a poster and got her favorite candy.

• the two of you color coordinated your outfits and have matching corsages.

• you and her will spend most of the time dancing with one another.

• the two of you will definitely get voted prom royalty.

• leo spends the whole night as your third wheel/child.

• the two of you make one of the those prom transitions on tiktok.

as prom reached its crescendo, your heart skipped a beat when you heard the opening notes of your favorite song. you turned to piper with a gleam in your eyes, excitement bubbling within you. "this is my favorite song," you exclaimed, your voice filled with joy.

piper's eyes lit up with a knowing smile as she took your hand, pulling you onto the dance floor. as the music filled the air, the two of you moved together in perfect harmony, your bodies swaying to the familiar melody. with each step, your connection deepened, as if the song itself was weaving your hearts closer together.

lost in the moment, you gazed into piper's eyes, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection. piper's hands rested gently on your waist, guiding you with effortless grace. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the music and the love that the two of you shared.

reyna ramirez-arellano

• you had to ask her because she was too nervous to ask you. when you asked her, you kept it pretty simple and asked her privately.

• she spends hours trying to figure out the perfect dress for the night.

• she's the perfect date. she will get you something to eat and drink as soon as you arrive without you even asking her to.

• initially, she appears composed and reserved, but you soon discover a softer, more playful side to her as the night progresses.

• she laughs freely at your jokes, engages in lighthearted banter, and even makes jokes of her own.

• she's not a big dancer so you had to drag her onto the dance floor with you.

• throughout the evening, her natural leadership skills become evident as she ensures that everything runs smoothly, from organizing group photos to making sure everyone is having a good time.

prom night was in full swing, the music thumping loudly in the air, but you couldn't find reyna, your date. you scanned the crowd anxiously until you spotted her standing by the refreshment table, looking as though she'd rather be anywhere else.

determined to make the night memorable for the both of you, you made your way over to her. "hey, reyna," you said with a warm smile. "why aren't you out there on the dance floor? prom's not the same without you."

reyna looked up at you, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

"i'm not really one for dancing," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

you chuckled softly. "come on, reyna. you're missing out on all the fun." without waiting for her response, you gently took her hand and began to lead her towards the dance floor.

at first, reyna resisted, her steps hesitant and unsure. but you refused to give up, determined to show her that dancing could be enjoyable. with a playful grin, you pulled her into the crowd, guiding her through the movements of the music.

[slutshamethesquirrels]

A First Time For Everything

choso x fem!reader

length: 10.7K

tw: religious guilt, drug use, nsfw, loss of virginity

You left your small hometown to pursue your dreams. Along the way, you've encountered new experiences and challenges that shake your beliefs to your core. In your new city, you meet Choso, who challenges your beliefs and introduces you to a different way of thinking. As you navigate this evolving new life, you find yourself drawn to him, leading to an exciting journey and a whole lot of firsts.

All you could think about was how disappointed your mother would be. You could see her there, in your tiny hometown, crying into a cup of coffee at the local diner, her friend rubbing her back affectionately. She'd tell her friend that she didn't know where she'd gone wrong, and her friend would sigh and quote scripture and tell her some old saying about how no lamb can stray too far from the herd for the shepherd to find again.

Would the preacher give a sermon on Sunday morning? About the devil and how he presents not as himself, but as pleasure? As sex and drugs and money? As freedom?

Six months ago, when you’d graduated college and took a job in a big city a thousand miles away, you'd never have pictured yourself in the predicament you found yourself in now. You wanted to experience, to learn, to breathe in the world around you and expand your mind. To you, that meant working, and trying new foods, maybe taking an art class.

It definitely never occurred to you that it might mean sitting on the cement of a skate park with three alternative men, watching the youngest of the three pack a - what did they call it again? - right, a ‘bowl’ full of weed to pass around the circle.

It makes you nervous, watching the setting sun dance off the pink top of his hair, handling an illegal substance so brazenly, out in the open like the cops couldn't roll up at any minute, like god wasn't watching-

A hand on your back between your shoulder blades, rubbing affectionately, reassuringly.

You look up to meet his eyes, flashing a small forced smile.

“I’m okay, Choso. I promise.”

Ah, if the devil presented as everything you wanted, then Choso Kamo may be Satan himself.

He’d frightened you the first time you'd met him. It was at a bar, sometime early in the night. You’d never drank before and wanted the experience of sipping a cocktail at the high tops, maybe shooting pool with a handsome stranger. You'd quickly learned that cocktails were vast and varied, and strangers came in so many different shapes and sizes out here. Unfamiliar ones, scary ones.

You’d simply asked the bartender for the special, and had been met with something that tasted like drinking straight cough syrup. It made you gag. Too heavy, too sweet, and to top it all off it burned.

He’d slid up to the bar a few seats away and you'd almost pissed yourself. He was huge, muscular, with a thick solid line tattooed across the bridge of his pierced nose. Tattoos decorated his arms, plastered the muscle that threatened to tear the fabric of his intentionally tattered t-shirt from the inside out. It was a deep maroon color, and it made the pale of his skin almost glow in the dark bar lighting. He was distressed jeans and combat boots and danger and fire. Alternatively styled hair, pigtails that somehow looked masculine on him. Tattoos and piercings and just the faintest hint of eyeliner. He was everything you had been taught to avoid. Everything that had ever been off limits.

And the way a match ignited in your stomach as you watched him order? That was definitely the cocktail.

And the way saliva started to pool in your throat when you watched him reach into his pocket to produce his wallet with special attention to the way his eyelashes fluttered? That was definitely the cocktail.

And the way you felt like vomiting when he'd caught you staring? Stupid fucking cocktail.

Or that's what you had told yourself.

When he’d approached, it wasn't what you expected, not at all what the movies taught you. He’d introduced himself, shook your hand, asked what you were sipping on.

“I actually-” you’d looked at your glass in disapproval “I don't know. I don't really drink but it's kind of gross.”

He’d giggled, boyish and in direct opposition to his appearance and you'd had to grip the bar for support despite already sitting.

“Yeah, I bet! Looks like it's 98 percent juice.” His brows had raised, a genuine smile plastered across his face. The whites of his canines made you feel like you were dying in the best way possible. It was overwhelming. You couldn't breathe.

“You can try mine, I haven't touched it yet. So, you know, no cooties or whatever-”

He slid his glass over to you. It was clear and bubbly, a lemon wedge floating in the top. Unable to even speak real human words back to him when he looked so good, you'd hesitantly pulled his straw between your lips, eyes gazing up at him as his gaze locked directly onto the way your mouth moved, unsure of why his expression faltered momentarily.

You took a sip and your face lit up. It was refreshing, almost like sparkling water. The liquor was there, but it didn't burn like yours. It was smooth and cooling.

“This is so good!”

He seems to be pleased by your excitement, his smile going soft “Yeah? It's a gin and tonic, I can buy you one, if you'd like.”.

Your expression must've told him you weren't sure. Isn't that what men did when they wanted to have sex with you?

“No expectations, I promise.”

He seemed so genuine that you'd gladly agreed.

And when he'd asked for your number, or if you wanted to hangout at his house with him and his younger brother, or if you would like to learn to skateboard- it was much the same.

Since that night, the two of you had melded into each other's lives effortlessly. Choso was sweet and kind, always respectful. His younger brother Yuji lived with him after the untimely passing of their mother. Yugi’s boyfriend, Megumi, was always around as well. Being around the three of them made you nostalgic for something you never had. Sometimes, the feeling you would get when watching the siblings fight over a game of Monopoly called back to the tightness of your chest during worship on Sundays. You used to think it was God speaking to you, but now you weren't so sure.

You weren't sure what the nature of your relationship was with Choso, either. Sometimes, he felt like a friend and nothing more. When he’d send you random goofy memes, or pretend to be upset when you couldn't come over. Other times, you thought that maybe he liked you. When you'd sit a little too close while watching a movie and catch him more concerned with watching you than the film. Or when he'd walk you to your car at night and linger just a bit too long at your window. Or when he’d insist upon you staying the night. But when you did agree to stay, he’d always tuck you into his bed and then head downstairs to sleep on the couch, often complaining the next morning about how Megumi and Yuji kept him up all night.

You didn't know the first thing about men, but surely if he liked you, he’d make the first move, right?

On the other hand, you'd come to learn just how shy Choso actually was. He preferred ordering delivery to avoid talking to strangers, wrote down scripts for himself before making phone calls, and tried his best to keep interactions with cashiers and bank tellers to a minimum. You’d wondered before what made him talk to you in the bar that night all those weeks ago.

“You sure? You look like your eyes are about to pop out of your head- ow!” Yuji’s voice brings you back to the present, giggling as he fails to dodge a playful blow to the back of his scalp from Megumi.

“I’m fine , you guys! I promise!” you insist as Yuji finishes packing the bowl with the corner of his lighter.

A few short minutes later and Choso’s on his knees in front of you, holding the bowl for you with a steady hand as you take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally for your first time ever smoking. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, your father yells and throws a glass plate at the dining room wall, but even the glass shattering is hard to hear when Megumi and Yuji are peering around Choso on either side, their faces akin to children on Christmas. Like getting you high for the first time was the greatest thing they'd ever do.

“Ready? Last chance to chicken out.” Choso’s words are teasing but his tone is gentle, kind. He's offering you a lifeline in a way that will still make him seem cool in front of his brother, and you know it.

“I was born ready.” you bold-face lie.

With that, you attach your lips to the mouthpiece, your eyes following Choso’s hand as he brings the flame of the lighter to the bud, giving you a gentle command:

“Inhale. Slowly.”

And so you do. He’d warned you that you wouldn't get anything until he moved his thumb from the air hole on the side, but somehow you’re still shocked when the flavor hits you. It's foreign, earthy, a little sour but not entirely unpleasant. It tickles as it slides down your throat and Choso pulls the glass piece away from you, passing it to Yuji.

Coming up isn't half as pleasant. The ticklish feeling now burns, and your lungs feel tingly and odd. You cough, once lightly and then violently. By the fifth one you think you may throw up. Your mouth feels dry and you can't comprehend why the boy’s would willingly do this to themselves.

It doesn't take long to understand, though.

Within a few minutes and another turn in the rotation, the world is softer, your thoughts not so organized and pointed. Everything is pretty, and silly, and any sensory input feels like you're experiencing it for the first time.

Yuji asks you stupid questions, has you rattling off haphazardly strung together and entirely too far thought-out opinions. Megumi seems to find this greatly amusing. It’s the first time you’ve seen him laugh, you think.

And Choso?

He keeps inching closer. You're not sure if he even intends for it to be that way, but eventually you end up sitting between his splayed open legs, your back against his chest and your fingers absentmindedly toying with the frayed holes in the thighs of his jeans. If the weight of the two of your bodies is too much he doesn't say so, his palms splayed out on the concrete behind him.

The two of you watch the younger couple skate from above, your eyes carefully trailing back and forth between them. You weren't sure how they ended up together. Megumi was a bit of a hard ass, he almost came off as pretentious if you didn't know him well enough. And then there was Yugi, who was loud and rambunctious and overly extroverted. You wondered who had bullied who into falling in love, and you giggle at the thought.

“What is it, pot head?” Choso asks from above you.

The boys had been teasing you about your “weed problem” all evening.

“Do you think Megumi bullied Yuji into dating him or was it the other way around?” You ask candidly, and this time Choso chuckles, vibrating your spine.

“I’d put money on it being the other way around. Yuji’s tougher than people give him credit for.”

A few silent, thoughtful moments pass and then he adds:

“Plus, Megumi’s super introverted. He's kind of like me in that way. I can't imagine he'd make the first move.”

For a moment, it's lost on you, but after it rolls around in the fuzziness of your brain for a while it dawns upon you that his words might've been a hint of sorts. You shift so that you can see his face, your legs swinging over his thigh and your elbows resting on the other for support, half laying on his lap.

“Yeah?” You prod, trying your best not to get lost in the deep chocolate of his eyes or the curve of his jaw.

He really was beautiful. Today, his hair is down, surrounding his face in a shaggy frame that makes him look a little softer. There's a red twinge coating the skin of his cheeks under his tattoo, but you couldn't decide if it was from the heat or not.

“Yeah” he breathes as his eyes scan your face, almost like he's in awe of you.

His eyes settle on your lips and you watch him swallow harshly.

It reminds you that your own mouth exists, and its dry as hell.

“Choso?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm thirsty.”

Your admission seems to jar him out of the haze as he cracks into a giggle, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners. You're pretty sure he's never looked better.

“We have some water bottles in the car, you wanna walk with me?”

Of course you do, you think you’d go everywhere with him if you had the time and money to do so.

A few minutes later the two of you are sitting in his car with the AC on full blast and the radio on low. Of course what was supposed to be a two minute venture out to the parking lot had lengthened when Choso had offered to show you a new band he had discovered.

Usually, his music was too heavy for you, but you actually didn't mind this one all that much. It had it's moments, but the incomprehensible screaming was spaced out, intermingled with melodic guitar and an only-slightly intolerably whiny vocalist.

“So, does this one get the y/n stamp of approval?” He asks.

You faux-ponder for a moment, tapping your finger against your chin thoughtfully before you give him the expected answer:

“No, but it's better than the last one.”

“Oh, come on! I thought for sure I’d have you this time!” He groans, jutting his bottom lip out like you’d really hurt his feelings.

“Sorry, big guy. The only whiney little man I like is you-”

It slipped out before you could even stop yourself, your face immediately flushing at the admission, horrified that you just said that. You were never smoking weed again.

What if he didn't feel that way? What if he was disgusted by the thought of you having feelings for him? What if he didn't want to be friends anymore? What if-

“I mean, I-”

“Do you mean it?” His tone is flat but his eyes are wide, observant, drinking in every minute detail of your expression. You're mortified.

“No!”

“Oh.” His face falls and his shoulders droop, and your heart cracks a little at the sight.

“I mean, not like that! I just-”

He chuckles a little, but it sounds strained. Slumping into his seat and tapping his hands on the bottom of the steering wheel awkwardly, he doesn't pull his eyes from his own fingers as he speaks “Y/n, it's fine. Really. You're not obligated to like me just because you're a woman and my friend. I'll live.”.

Fuck.

How were you supposed to fix this? How could you get out of this situation without admitting to your little crush? Either way, the dynamic of your relationship would change from here on out.

You tried to summon your bravery, but in the end it was futile.

You didn't like the way the change was playing out.

Choso’s texts to you slowed over the next few weeks, and then eventually stopped altogether. You had yet to be invited back over to his place or out to the skate park by him personally, instead getting invites from Yuji, all ending with the speculation that you could come “if you want”. Not a direct invitation, not a enthusiastic expression of a desire for your presence, and definitely not from the person you wanted it from.

You wondered if you had told him the truth, would it be like this?

You missed him. The smell of his cologne, dark and earthy and smokey. The way it felt to fall asleep on his shoulder watching TV. His penchant for take out, his awkward demeanor. You’d even forced yourself to listen to his playlists. It felt like a piece of you had died.

Out here in the big city, surrounded by a million strangers, yet feeling alone because the ones you chose had been taken from you as punishment for your lack of nuts.

You check your phone after work before heading home, unsurprised to find no new notifications, but disappointed nonetheless. You almost text him, tell him you miss him, but it felt wrong. So instead, you put his playlist on and start your drive.

Fittingly, it was pouring rain, effectively turning the concrete of the city into a pond. Traffic creeps forward, inch by miserable fucking inch, and you think how much better this would be if he was in your passenger seat. Shit, it would even be better if you could just call him. Your emotions swell and blur together. You're mournful over the loss, regretful over your choice of words, angry at him for not just telling you what he was thinking. Angry at your hometown for driving you out, angry at your mother for never calling, angry at god for keeping the rest of the big wide world from you for so long. Angry at god for keeping Choso from you for so long.

Someone blares on their horn a couple lanes away and you sober, come to a revelation of sorts. You’d thrown god the middle finger a long time ago. He couldn't stop you from living, from experiencing. And by that logic, he couldn't keep Choso from you either. Not if you had any say in the matter.

You don't drive home, taking a turn instead two exits early. You’d memorized the route to their house, didn't need a GPS to lead you into their suburb.

When you pull into the drive Choso’s car is the only one parked outside, but quite frankly you didn't care who was there. You march out of your car with the determination of a soldier, not bothering to worry about how the rain was absolutely pouring down. By the time you reach the door you’re absolutely soaked, with your hair plastered to your face and your business casual button up transparent, clinging to your frame.

You pound on the door with force and wait for a few moments, and then pound again. You know he doesn't like to answer the door to strangers. He's not impolite enough to tell religious canvassers to piss off, and everytime it's a salesman he buys whatever product they're pushing just to get them to leave.

Third time's the charm.

He opens the door in nothing but a charcoal pair of sweatpants, his hair messy and disheveled like he’d just woken up at 6pm. His tattoos are on full display, but his torso remains untouched by ink, giving you a full view of his pecs, his abs, and that v shape above his hips that has you breathing funny. You shamelessly trail your eyes down his body.

“You're soaked.” He meekly points out, and you realize he must've been sizing you up as well, because his lips are parted and his face is flushed when you jerk your eyes back up to meet his gaze.

Fuck it.

You take two steps forward and jerk him down to you by the nape of his neck, crashing your lips into his with a fervent heat. You would explain later. Right now all that mattered was the way he grunted against your lips, the way his tongue felt pushing past the plush barrier to swirl against yours, the way his hands gripped your sides like they were sculpted to do just that. He tastes like weed and mint and something sweet, and you think you maybe could get addicted to something like that.

He pulls back but you’re not finished yet, lapping hungrily at the sensitive skin of his neck. It was the best you could do with the height difference.

“Y/n. Inside, please.” He slurs, groaning and gripping you tighter as you transition from licking to sucking, ignoring his request entirely.

You hit a spot he must like, because he gasps and then his hands are scrambling to the wet backs of your thighs, hoisting you up to his waist and retreating into the familiar space.

Once the two of you are inside he sits you down, his hands scrambling to put some space between the two of you, grasping at your wrists and pushing on your chest just slightly. You both know he could easily shove you off if he wanted, but as always his manners are entirely too poised for that type of behavior.

But you’re hooked on the flavor of his skin, lapping at any place you can reach with desperation. You missed him so much, you needed him. Closer and harder and more-

He barks your name, unusually harsh, and it snaps you out of your lusty haze a little.

“Sorry,” He apologizes when he catches your disappointment, his hands reaching up to cup your face, lips pressing to the damp skin of your forehead gently to remedy his harshness “You're absolutely drenched, love. And it seems like we need to talk.”.

It's almost impossible to tuck away your need, but you manage, somehow.

Thirty minutes later and you're wrapped in one of his hoodies, the sheer size of it large enough to fall at mid-thigh.

With the daylight streaming through the window, Choso’s bedroom looks different. You’d never noticed before just how much of a collector he was. You knew he had shelves full of nick-nacks and oddities, but in the light they seemed far larger in number than you’d ever noticed before. He had an interest in the occult, a fact that had once scared you, but now you knew it to be harmless.

Every crystal, jar of herbs, and statuette had a meaning. You’d ask him about it sometimes, which rock was supposed to represent good fortune, or which little wax sealed spell jar was for protection.

Choso viewed spirituality not as a guide book for how to enter heaven, but an encyclopedia for exploring the unknown. You loved that about him. He didn't need one divine being to judge whether or not he was a good person, he just was .

The two of you sit at the top of his bed, your backs pressed against the headboard, your legs against the top of his plush comforter. It's such a deep shade of purple it's almost black.

The tension between the two of you is somewhat awkward. You were sitting close enough to feel each other's heat, but neither one dared to touch. You kept yourself busy by twisting your fingers together, trying not to think about how tense he was beside you. His arms were clenched tightly across his chest, as if defending himself from the thick air, and when you stole a glance at him you wondered how he hadn't bitten through his cheek yet with how hard he was chewing on it.

Several times, one of you opens your mouth to speak, but words evade you.

Eventually, you tap your bare toes against Choso's playfully. Once, twice, three times.

“Weirdo,” he teases “You come in my house, you kiss me, you steal my clothes and now you wanna hold toes?”

You gasp, full of faux offense “Excuse me?! I am not trying to hold your toes! If I wanted to hold your toes, I’d do this- ”.

You slide your body down a bit so you can reach and curl your toes over the top of his. Immediately, he recoils, sarcastically gagging, but its interrupted by giggles as he tries to no avail to squirm away from you.

“You freak!” He laughs, desperately shuffling away from you as you latch onto his body, attempting to reach his foot again with your own playfully. He squirms downward to use his height to his advantage, his giggles getting a little higher pitched as he evades your desperate attempt.

“Is this some kind of weird religious trauma? Jesus liked to wash feet, not touch them together-”

He's shit talking between giggles and now you're giggling too, sliding down the bed to try and reach him once again, your lip pulling between your teeth mischievously as you frantically wave your leg, toes pointed like a ballerina. You pay absolutely zero mind to his protests. So close, so close-

He practically shrieks your name when he feels your toes graze against his skin and the sheer girlieness of the noise has you erupting into genuine, chest rattling laughter, and before you can recover, he's reached over you to hook a large and under your knee, flipping you across his waist with ease so you’re straddling him, genuinely beaming as you try to catch your breath, your hands pressed against his bare chest to support yourself.

After a few moments, the realization sinks in that you’re here, in Choso Kamo’s bed, with no pants on. Straddling him with your knees struggling to even touch the bed underneath, the only thing separating your most private area from the skin of his abdomen being the thin cotton of your bikini cut panties.

His expression softens as he stares at you, lost in the way your lips part and your eyelids get heavy as he brings a hand up to fix pieces of your hair that were out of place, the both of you completely lost in the moment.

“I’m so sorry Choso-” you start, finally attempting to address the elephant in the room.

“Don't be, there's no need” he murmurs as his fingers move from your hair to your jawline, his thumb grazing the soft skin of your cheek tantalizingly slow “I told you, you're not obligated to feel-”.

You're glad he's not dodging the issue, but you can't let him continue that line of thinking for another fucking second. It was killing you, so you cut him off.

“But I do, Cho. I do feel…” You sigh, your eyebrows furrowing as a knot rises in your throat. Why the fuck was this so hard?

And he wasn't making it any easier, the way his hand was trailing from your face to your neck, across your shoulder and down your clavicle like it had a mind of its own. You have to fight not to shudder.

You close your eyes, avoiding his gaze and focus hard on spewing what needed to be said, wanting it out and over as quickly as possible.

“I like you. I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. I just didn't know how to say it and when I did I didn't mean to. And you looked so pretty and I didn't want to fuck anything up and so I tried to shove it all back in but it was too late and I-”

Words are tumbling out of your mouth quicker than your brain could proofread them, your hands balling into fists as you metaphorically word vomit into the sticky air in front of you, and it's not until you feel Choso shift underneath you that you stop.

He's pushed himself up on his palm, his free hand moving to tangle in your hair and pull your lips to his, a silent way of telling you he understood. This kiss wasn't like earlier, this one was gentle and poised, every little motion of his mouth overly intentional. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you gladly grant him access, sighing against him as he strokes the inside of your mouth with the grace of a painter intending upon a masterpiece.

Momentarily, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours and panting slightly, his eyes fluttered shut as he basks in your warmth. The air between you is thick and sweet, a mixture of clean oxygen and your breath swirling together.

You know what he's doing, trying to regain some control over himself. The two of you have talked extensively about your background, he knew you were a virgin. He didn't want to do anything you weren't comfortable with-

“You’ve been holding back this whole time” you let the words tumble out in a whisper, and you smile when he nods, the sweetness of the entire misunderstanding exploding through you.

“I never wanted to force you into anything,” He sighs “God knows you’ve had enough of other people guiding your decisions for you.”.

“Was that a play on words?” you try not to giggle, but he snorts and then you’re both laughing, with him shifting your bodies again so you're fully in his lap, his legs curling underneath you and his arms squeezing you in an almost boyish way, his giggles getting lost in your hair where he buries his face.

***

“I want to have sex with you”

You’re firm and unwavering in your disposition, face stern and hands pointed at your sides. You stand in front of the coffee table where Choso currently has one boot clad foot perched, his long fingers working on weaving the laces around the hooks in a far too intricate pattern.

He stills momentarily, staring at you with a slight blush creeping across an almost unreadable expression before he chuckles, returning to the task at hand.

His reaction causes you to cross your arms across your chest and reiterate “I’m serious. I want to have sex with you.”.

Since your initial miscommunication with him, you’d come to the conclusion that you would simply have to be direct with your wants and needs from him.

He doesn't pause this time, but does lift his head to shoot you a glance, flashing a much softer smile this time. It reminds you of when you first met him.

“I know, I’m sorry. You just said it so officially. I half expected you to be wearing a lapel collar blazer and holding a briefcase. It was cute.” He speaks as he finishes up with the first boot, and then quickly moves onto the next.

He was getting ready for work and looked absolutely scrumptious. His hair was pulled back in his signature buns, little pieces falling forward to frame his face, and his uniform clung to him in all the right ways. He swears he doesn't actually do much as a security guard, but everytime you see him in uniform you can't help but melt a little.

‘Remain strong’ you tell yourself.

“Well maybe if you could take a hint I wouldn't have to present myself like a legal case,” your tone was teasing, but it was true.

Earlier this week you'd crawled in his bed with nothing on but a thong and one of his t-shirts, pulling his arm around you and settling the flesh of your ass firmly against his boxers, innocently “adjusting” your position repeatedly. When his cock was hard enough for you to feel it spearing your thighs you thought you had him hooked, but he simply pressed chaste kisses onto your neck a few times and told you goodnight.

The day before that, you’d met him in his bedroom when he got home fresh out of the shower, nothing but a towel clinging to your frame and pulled him in for a steamy makeout session. It had ended with him offering for you to wear an outfit of his.

Just last night, you’d made sure to pick a movie with a raunchy sex scene, and even though you’d watched his face flush and his breathing falter, he didn't so much as attempt to make a move on you.

He says your name gently as he finishes up with his shoes and rises from the couch, making his way over to you and wrapping his fingers around your jaw, manually forcing you to look up at him.

“I can take a hint just fine, baby.” He coos, his voice dark and smokier than you’d ever heard it, seemingly out of nowhere “It's just that I'm a patient man. I was waiting for you to use your words.”.

You're already putty in his hands, beet red and gripping his uniform desperately as he captures your bottom lip between his, rolling his tongue along the tender flesh before sucking harshly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting lightly.

It shouldn't be enough to have you dripping onto the soft cloth of your underwear, pushing muffled whimpers against his lips, but here you are anyway.

All too soon, he pulls away, leaving you breathless as he makes circles beneath your ribs with his thumbs.

“Unfortunately, though, my little legal council, I do have to work-”

“Call out.” It sounds like a plea.

He giggles, allowing his forehead to fall against yours just briefly as his shoulders shake with the sound.

“Cho!” You whine, desperate and slightly embarrassed.

“I can't call out horny, my love.” He’s still giggling as he says it “Plus, if it's what you want, that's fine but I’d like to have time to dedicate myself to making you feel good. It's your first time, you deserve that.”

His words soften as he speaks, and he plants another kiss on your lips, muffling your resigned response.

“You gonna be here tonight? When I get home?” He asks, his voice suggestive.

You hadn't been planning on it. It was usually a dice roll, whether you’d end up at your own apartment or his house by the end of the night, but you needed to go home. Your drawer full of clothes here was dwindling and you desperately missed not having to hear Yuuji and Megumi in the other room.

Plus, you worried sometimes that you needed to relax, to give Choso a chance to breathe. He was an introvert, and even though he never seemed to mind your presence you were always worried that you were overstepping boundaries.

“I was planning on it.” You lie, unsure if you were convincing.

“Shame,” he sighs, pecking your nose before heading towards the door, strong hands reaching for his keys hanging on the rack “The boys are gonna be here. I figure you don't want them hearing-”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, I-” you scramble for words and he turns to watch you fumble desperately to communicate, giggling through pearly white teeth.

“I can be at home. Tonight.” You take a deep breath, feeling like the air was all of a sudden too hot in the room.

The look on his face is one of pure adoration. His eyes drink you in like fresh water in a desert oasis. You’d been taught that God was the only one who could love you unconditionally, the only one who could marvel at the way your soul had been sewn into your body, but there in that moment, you had the thought that Choso Kamo just might be able to as well.

He crosses the room once more, and when you think he's going to kiss you again, push a little harder against the thin bubble of list pooling inside you, he shocks you by wrapping his arms around you instead, pulling you into him and squeezing you tight, like he didn't want to let go.

The hours pass all too quickly. They also drag on like snails on the sidewalk.

You do everything in your power to prepare yourself. By the time you've driven home and shaved every feasible inch of your body, showered like you could never be clean enough, and applied enough lotions and oils for the next seventeen years, you still have four hours until Choso gets off work. Two and a half of those get filled with cleaning, not that your apartment was dirty in the first place, but you vacuum and dust and wash your bedsheets. You consider scrubbing the grout in the kitchen, but decide against it, not wanting to ruin your immaculately washed form with sweat.

Picking out what to wear is another daunting task. You weren't one for expensive and skimpy lingerie sets. You’d never considered the possibility that anyone would be seeing that secondary layer of clothing. Would Choso be disappointed in your plain black cotton panties and a matching black bra? Realistically, no. You knew he thought you looked amazing in anything. But there's still a small part of you that thinks maybe he will be.

In those last few hours, the nerves really settle in with the reality of the situation. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror in your underwear for what feels like an insane amount of time, scrutinizing your body. Every stretch mark, patch of cellulite, scar and wrinkle screams at you. The way your underwear digs into the soft fat of your body makes you sick. You imagine Choso swallowing his disgust to power through it, and flip off the lights to go pull on some shorts and a t-shirt.

And when he texts you to let you know he's on the way, you feel like you may vomit, a mix of excitement and shame flooding your system.

Beneath his notification is one from your mother. She doesn't reach out much these days, and when she does, it's always an attempt to guilt you into returning home. In her mind, it's not too late.

She doesn't know how far you’ve strayed. You're no longer a girl in the middle rows of pews with your blossoming body swallowed in a light pink dress from your neck to your shins. You don't find excitement at the glances you would steal with the choir boy while he sung the good lord's praises.

These days, you drank and smoked and spent your nights in the bed of an unwed man who thought Jesus was no more than a person who once lived. No more or less than himself, or you, for that matter.

The bible verse she's sent you today seems fitting.

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

She used to tell you, when you were tiny, with dirt stained knees and sunburned cheeks, that when you found your husband, you should replace the word “love” with his name. And if you could not recite it and believe it to be true in it’s new form, he simply was not the boy for you.

Choso Kamo is patient, he is kind. He does not envy, he does not boast, he is not proud.

You see him in flashes. How he patiently waited for you to make a move on him. How he was kind enough to bolster you through every step of your new journey. How he was quiet, gentle, humble in his words and his actions. The blush of his cheeks, the warmth of his embrace-

Choso Kamo is not rude, he is not self seeking, he is not easily angered, he keeps no record of wrongs.

He took your misplaced rejection in stride. Never once did he snap at you. In those weeks you’d been separated, he’d drawn into himself. And when you'd showed up on his doorstep with no justification, he'd welcomed you back with open arms, dressed you in his own clothes, held you like a precious gift-

Choso Kamo always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.

Yuuji had told you one night over a midnight snack about how Choso had immediately cleared out the guest bedroom when their mom had passed. Yuuji, before that point, was old enough and had more than enough money to have lived on his own, but Choso had insisted on him moving in. He’d told you, with a saccharine half smile as he stared into his bowl of cheerios, that he thought that Choso wanted what was left of their family to persevere. It may have been small, torn from years of hardship, but they were gonna make it good. They were gonna be the kind men at the end of the street who neighbors called when they had a flat tire. Their home would be a safe haven, a place to rest when their friends were weary. After that conversation, you’d crawled back into bed with Choso, who was fast asleep, and cried into his shoulder. Your sweet boy, your angel-

Choso Kamo never fails.

That one doesn't count, you decide. It was too unrealistic. But then you rephrase it a little, and it sounds about right:

Choso Kamo’s love never fails.

Yeah, that was more like it.

But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

For we know in part and we prophesy in part

You send your mother back a message, entirely too brief. You are no longer sure if you believe in god, but what you are certain of is that you are going to live each moment of your life like it's your last. You’re helplessly in love with a man who practices witchcraft and smokes weed more than he breathes air. But you followed her rule, and he fits the standard. You don't want to hear her opinion, and your father, god rest his soul, may be rolling in his grave, but he's probably not burning in hell, because it doesn't exist.

but when perfection comes,

A knock on your door, in an all-too-familiar corny little rhythmic jingle that warms your heart.

the imperfect disappears.

You block your mothers number and toss your phone on the plush surface of your sofa and practically run to the door, throwing it open and then leaping into Choso's arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck and drinking in the smell of his cologne.

He's unprepared, stumbling slightly as he catches you, a breathy “Woah, there!” escaping his lips as he steps with you in his arms over the threshold of your apartment.

“What happened to ‘Hello’?” He teases, pressing soft kisses into your hair “-Or ‘Hi, how are you?’.”

All the while he's struggling to kick his shoes off and get the door locked without setting you down, giggling at himself candidly in your ear. Every rattle of his chest only has you pulling him closer, latching onto him impossibly tight. It hurts in the best way possible. You never thought you’d find this, you could be barefoot and pregnant in that choir boy’s kitchen right now. But he was here, and real, and patient, and kind, and hopeful, and trustworthy, and all that stupid shit the pastor used to yap about on Sunday morning.

“What is up with you? You cosplayin’ a boa constrictor or what-? Oh- What's wrong? ”

His tone softened when he pulled back to look at you and saw large tears rolling down your cheeks.

Even now, with a downturned brow and a pout plaguing his features, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. His hair was down, his face free of any of his typical makeup and his skin baby soft and butter smooth. Beautiful dark eyes traced worried patterns over your face, searching for the cause of your tears. His grip on your thighs tightens, protective.

“If you changed your mind-” He starts, voice low and hushed.

“No.” You cut him off, and plopped your forehead against his, probably a little too hard but he’d be okay. You’d tease him about his thick ass skull later.

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

You swallowed your fear, your reservation, the silly, petulant notion that Choso held anything in his chest but genuine adoration for you.

“I’m crying because I’m happy. You make me happy.” You murmur, your eyelids slipping closed. You can't bear to look at him when you say it.

“I love you, Choso Kamo. I love you.”

The air freezes, tenses, and you can swear for a moment the world stops turning. You pry your eyes open against your will to look at him, and he's staring at you in awe, worrying his lip between his teeth, and- were there tears welling in his eyes?

“Say it again.” He whispers “Please.”

“I love you-”

He cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours feverishly. It's gentle, but you can tell he's fighting himself, his hands trembling against your thighs with the force he’s using to force himself into taking his time.

Lips and tongues melding as he carried you down the hall, soft whimpers escaping his lips as your fingers twist in his hair, willing him somehow closer than he already was, wanting him to take your body, and maybe your soul, make it his. He could have it, all of you if he wanted, you knew he'd keep it safe.

“Again” He commands as he lays you on your bed, his hands working your shirt off like he couldn't stand the fabric that hid you from him for a second longer.

“I love you, Cho.” You watch as he pushes himself up off the mattress, standing so that he can pull his own shirt off, revealing that tantalizingly hard frame that you’d fantasized about since the first night you met him. He doesn't give you much time to admire the view before his rough palm is sliding along your freshly bare skin from your hip to the side of your neck. His other hand plants on the mattress beside you, holding himself up as he presses his lips to yours again and then allows himself to leave a sloppy trail of wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. His tongue is hot and desperate, flicking against your skin and leaving cracks of electricity in it's wake.

“Ah, fuck-” the words seem to bubble out of your lips from nowhere as he transitions from licking to sucking, the slightest bit of pain outlining the pleasure. The hand that's been resting against your neck slides down and around your body, and you arch your back so he can undo the clasp of your bra, running your hands along the defined ridges of his back and trying to remember every breath, every touch, every feeling he’s giving you.

How could this be wrong, when his tongue gliding along your collar feels like heaven? How is it that you were reveling in sin if him removing your bra from your chest felt like removing everything that's ever caged you? How was it blasphemy if the way his eyes held contact with yours as he drew stars along your nipple with his tongue felt like worship?

It also felt like hell fire, though, the way there was heat coating every inch of the room, every inch of your body, pooling inside you and sloshing against every flick of his tongue.

Your body knows what you want, even if you don't, and your hands tangle in his hair and push him downwards, urging him to pick up the pace.

He chuckles against your skin, muttering a hushed “So fucking cute-” before kissing your nipple once more and following your silent command, mapping out the skin of your abdomen with his tongue, humming in satisfaction against your skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into the taste.

His hands trace your sides until his thick fingers are hooking under the rim of both your shorts and your underwear, pulling them off in one fell swoop.

And then there you are, naked in front of the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Naked in front of a man who looked like everything you’d ever been warned about, but acted like everything you'd ever been taught was good.

He looked otherworldly, with his hair fluffy and tousled by your fingers. His blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, all the way down his chest, and you notice for the first time the tent in the front of his sweats. His eyes scan you, gliding over different parts of your form, looking hazy and far away, almost lost-

One hand moves to part your knees, which had subconsciously moved together to cover yourself, but he doesn't push, instead lifts his eyes to you, smiling softly. Adoringly.

“Can't do anything for you if you don't let me see, babe.”

You nod, slowly, and begin to part your legs, but something about your face makes him falter, moving to grip your knee and stop you.

“What's wrong, y/n? Do we need to stop?” He's stone-serious all of a sudden “We can stop whenever you want. I promise I can wait.”.

Patient. You remind yourself. Choso Kamo is patient.

“N-no!” You find your words, and he relaxes a little, his grip on your knee loosening “I just- What if you don't-”. You feel embarrassment stinging hot on your cheeks.

His brow furrows as he questions you “...Don't what?”.

The words feel like shattered glass sliding out of your throat:

“What if you don't… like what you see?”

His face falls, and for a second he looks genuinely sad, and you think you’ve ruined it. Again. There's a few silent moments where you think he's gonna call it off, help you redress and leave you here to sleep alone. You recall how you felt in those few weeks of not talking to him the first time.

…But he doesn't. His hands reach out for you and you take them, allowing him to pull you into a sitting position while he stands at the edge of the bed, holding your face upwards so that you have to look at him.

“Y/n.” His tone is somewhere between a scold and a plea, a warning and a prayer “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I am lucky to have you.”.

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you draw a shaky breath “I just-”

“Aht.” He stops you, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sickeningly sweet gesture “Let me show you.”.

He pushes on your shoulder until you lean back on one of your palms, and this time when he parts your legs to hike your knees up on his hips, you allow it.

He grabs your free hand and and turns it over in his own, speaking softly, slowly:

“I love your hands, and how small they feel in mine.” He kisses your knuckles, humming against your skin as he continues “I love it when you wrap your arms around me at night, how soft your skin feels against me.”.

He starts at your wrist, planting kiss after kiss, trailing upwards until he lands in the hollow of your throat.

“I love your voice, love to hear you say my name-”

“Choso-” you whine, the flick of his tongue causing your hips to instinctually rock. His clothed erection grinds against your bare clit and you gasp at the contact. It was unfamiliar, but so so fucking good.

“Mmm, yes, baby. Just like that.” He praises, his voice low and husky, and his hands move to your hips to guide you in grinding against him, the pace slow and rhythmic, tantalizingly slow.

“I love these little love handles,” He's speaking through breathy pants now, index fingers tapping against the skin beneath his hands to point them out “They're so hot, doll. You have no idea. I wanna bite them so bad. And just look how nicely they fit in my hands.”.

He's melting you, you're head tipping back and your mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut as you jolt with every brush of your clit.

“I said look-” he growls, and brings one hand up to the back of your hair, jerking your head forward. Your eyes fly open in surprise at his sudden forwardness, only to be met with the sight of him grinding against you, the front of his sweats absolutely soiled by your wetness- or maybe his precum from the other side. Both? Probably both.

But he was right, if you didn't know any better, you'd think your hips were hand carved to fit into his palms.

“Cho, please, please!” You have no idea what you're begging for, but you need more, the unfamiliar heat building in your stomach becoming damn near unbearable.

He chuckles, not his usual way but something a little lower, huskier, almost taunting, and takes a slight step back. You open your mouth to whine about the loss of contact, but then he's kneeling by the bed, throwing your legs up over his shoulders and you realize- oh fuck .

“I love these little tiger stripes” He's back to his monologue, tracing the stretch marks on your inner thigh with his lips.

“So. Goddamn. Pretty.” His words are punctuated with kisses in between “How many years did it take you to grow them? Hmm? How many good meals and growing pains and jeans sizes are painted here, baby?”.

He's babbling, lost in adoration, and all you can do is gasp and whine and keen as he draws closer and closer to your core. You're overwhelmed, by him, by his words, by his lips. Your insides have been blended up and set on a low simmer, sure to bubble and boil until you're completely caramelized, an entirely different form than when you first started.

He presses a chaste kiss to the hood of your clit, almost innocent, and you tense, your whole body coiled in anticipation as you prop yourself up on you elbows to look at him with blown pupils.

“Can I?” He asks, and before the words are even out you’re nodding eagerly, unable to even form words with the way he's got you wrapped around his metaphorical finger.

Tentatively, almost experimentally, he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, smirking as your back arches into the feeling. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, it was indescribably good. Your hands find his hair faster than you can stop them, instinct taking over as you push him down into you by way of gripping his hair, your body aching, pleading for him to do it again.

And he happily obliges, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you down so he can work his magic, and holy hell did it feel like magic. If your brain wasn't absolutely melted, you’d thank him for suggesting your apartment instead of his house. The sounds that we're escaping you were loud and high pitched, broken syllables of his name intermingled with cursing as he draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, gradually picking up pace until you're tossing your upper half back onto the mattress, feeling like he was pulling your very soul from your body in the best way.

“Want my fingers inside you, love?” He pulls away, just briefly, back to kissing your thigh languidly as he waits for you to sober a bit and give him proper consent.

“Yes, yes, yes-” You're helpless against him, trying to roll your hips back up to his face, only to be met with the pressure of his hand against your hip, holding you in place. You’d let him do whatever he wanted.

“Okay, okay!” He giggles, and this time it sounds genuine “Relax for me, pretty girl, it shouldn't hurt but if you're tense…”.

He trails off, pressing a kiss to your other thigh as you settle yourself, laying back with your eyes closed and taking deep, slow breaths while trying not to tremble.

You feel his tongue again first and immediately jolt, and he mumbles your name almost disappointedly, like he expected you to tense again the second he touched you. You mumble an apology, trying again to relax, focusing on the way his tongue felt working your body.

It doesn't take long for the heat to return, soft whine's escaping your lips as you let him take control, loving the way he groans against you, like getting you off was a pleasure. With each stroke an unknown feeling was building in your core, a live wire winding tighter and tighter and-

You gasp as you feel a sudden pressure, his finger pushing into you slowly, carefully, pumping in time with his tongue, working you from the inside and out.

You're back up on your palm now, your free hand reaching for his, tangling your fingers in his, squeezing as your face falls into an opened mouthed silent moan. He hesitates, just briefly, and the panic at the idea of losing the feeling helps you find your words:

“Nonononono, don't stop, Choso, baby, please- please don't stop it's so good, please- please!”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, smirking against you. You didn't give a fuck. Let his ego inflate until it bursts. Let him think he owns your body, because goddamn, you’d let him. You wanted him to. Anything, anything so long as he didn't stop.

Without warning, he slips another finger in and the stretch along with the swirl of his tongue is unreal. You cry out, squeezing his fingers impossibly tight and doubling over just slightly. He's hitting something inside you that you didn't know existed, some type of magical button that had that coil in you wound so tight you feared it might break. And then you feel it, a sharp and hot sensation, brought on so suddenly it had your eyes flying open and sent you scrambling backwards away from him.

“Stop!” You bark, and immediately he pulls out of and away from you, but keeps your fingers intertwined with his, his face crunched in concern.

“You okay?” He asks, genuine worry plaguing his very being “Something hurt?”.

“Yeah, no, it felt good, I just- I felt-” You struggle to describe it, searching for a similar sensation in your mind to compare it to.

While you think, he presses small kisses to your knee, his eyes not as concerned as they were a moment ago, but still cloudy.

“I think I have to pee?” You finally state, but it comes out as more of a question than a matter of fact.

His eyebrows jolt upwards as he breaks into a wide open mouthed grin, and then he laughs in that way that makes you melt, in the way that makes his nose crinkle up and his eyes look like crescent moons.

“Baby!” He cackles incredulously, rising to his feet and placing himself up on the bed, his shoulders resting against the pillows.

“What?” You whine, mildly embarrassed, but take his hands when he reaches for you, letting him guide you until your straddling his hips, shuddering as you feel his still-hard cock spearing your ass.

“You were gonna cum, that's what that was.” He chuckles, pulling you forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself all over him and it lights you on fire.

Choso, smiling, giggling, rock hard beneath you, swirling his tongue around yours when you find yourself smiling too.

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

“Cho?” you murmur against him, and he hums inquisitively back against your lips.

“Make love to me. Please. Need you close.”

“Yes ma'am. At your service.”

In a few moments, you're on your back in front of him, your thighs spread around his own, watching him roll a latex condom over his length. An artist couldn't paint a view as beautiful as the one in front of you.

Fully protected, he leans down over you, and before he can move to do it himself you’re lapping hungrily at his bottom lip, willing him closer, wanting him to invade your every inch, stake his claim in you.

He hikes one of your legs up with his hand under your knee and you feel him nudge against your entrance, and you surprise yourself with your own feelings. There's no fear, no shame, just love and want.

“You sure?”

“Choso!” You fuss, and he giggles, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead and then resting his own head there, nuzzling you gently. Anyone else, it would be gross; both of you had a sheen of sweat glistening across your foreheads.

“Deep breath for me, sweet girl.” He murmurs, and you do, drawing a heavy lungful of his breath and the hot air surrounding the two of you. At the peak of your intake, he pushes into you, slow and careful, stretching you around him with the patience of a teacher and the intensity of a priest in the height of surmon.

It was all-consuming, the absolutely delectable way he fit inside you, his tip grazing your cervix just ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was the way he’d brought you to the brink of cumming (apparently) before, or just the way your body craved him like water, but he was right; it didn't hurt. Pressure, sure, but not pain.

“Gonna move-” He speaks, and you realize you’re affecting him too. His brow is knitted, bottom lip trembling between his teeth, voice cracked and whiney.

“Please, Cho?” You whimper out, sliding one hand around his back, the other intertwined in his dark hair, now damp from desperate sweat.

He presses his lips to yours and begins to rock his hips, slowly at first, until he hits that sweet spot inside you again, earning him a puppy whine from what felt like the deepest part of your guts. From there, he's zeroed in on that spot, rolling his hips in a way that has him grinding against it over and over.

Each stroke pushes you closer to the brink of enlightenment, you think, modulates your very being with the way that heat is rising inside you again. He moans and whines and whimpers against the crook of your neck as he works, giving away just how much you’re really doing to him, whether he wanted you to know or not.

It makes you smile through the pleasure, and if any sounds could escape you other than moans you may have giggled. He was so fucking cute.

The pressure inside you intensifies, builds until every stroke is crashing over your body in boiling waves, and you feel that hot sensation again as he picks up pace, your pussy twitching around him desperately and your thighs tightening around his back, warning him you were close.

“Say it again for me, baby. Please?” He pants, propping up to watch your face as you inevitably would come undone beneath him.

One of his hands reaches down to circle your clit as you cry out.

“I love you. I-I love you, Chos- nngh, fuck! ”

You cum, for the first time in your life, and it feels like you’ve stepped off the edge of a cliff, adrenaline and excitement exploding from your core. Against your own will, your head flies backwards into the pillow behind you and your body clenches from your scalp to your toes as you ride out your high.

A curse, followed by a keen from Choso as he’s quick to follow behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and slow as he pumps hot ropes of cum into the condom.

He presses into you, resting his body weight against you as the both of you take a moment to catch your breath. It's crushing, his weight, but you couldn't think of a better way to go, so you let him. As you regain some semblance of control over your body, your fingers find their way to his back, swirling along the defined muscle in languid motions.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

“Oh,” He says after a moment, casually, like he'd forgotten to tell you some half hearted plans “I love you too, by the way.”.

You giggle, and jerk his face up to look at you, your hands pressing into his cheeks and puckering up his kiss-bitten lips.

“You are an idiot, Choso Kamo.”

[theendorisit]

I want to talk about some fun stuff I have had knocking around my head regarding the Magnus archives 

Note: is it Canon? I don’t know and I don’t care. @jonnywaistcoat gave us a bunch of fun toys to play with. I wanna play with them. I am not gonna tell anyone if their opinions on Magnus are right or wrong because it doesn’t matter! it’s a story. It’s fiction. It doesn’t matter if you picture white Archivist, black Archivist, asian Archivist - that’s how we end up with fun stuff like mermaid Tim! Imagine everything, and anything - it doesn’t matter, and that’s the fun of it! Also, I am keenly aware I am (checks watch) 8 years late to this fandom and I may be spouting stuff long since discussed, so forgive me if I am getting excited discovering long trodden ground.

I digress. So. One of the many things I love about Magnus is the fun and very clear metaphors that are used to describe the entities/ fears and what’s going on in the story. One of my favourites is the colour wheel theory. During the show I would get confused between the different entities particularly the stranger and the spiral but if the entities are like colours then this makes perfect sense: they do bleed into each other. So I wanted to try and transcribe these entities onto colours not thinking so much about which particular colour I think they ought to be, but how they complement or clash with each other. Disclaimer, not an artist. At all. I don’t know if I’ll do a good job - but that’s not really what I wanna talk about. 

Death/Terminus/The End isn’t a colour. Death is black-and-white. And death isn’t like any of the others.

This is just to say, that the way I read it - death, as an entity, is treated differently.

Jonny himself said in calls and livestreams that death was actually his main fear, maybe still is? So that might lend itself to different considerations.

In TMA, death is described as the fear of death, dying and nonexistence and all of that cosmological shit that most of us feel. However, TMA stories of death also include the opposite fear which is the fear of not being able to die. This is equivalent to the Eye finding someone who is afraid of being watched and putting them in a box, where no one can ever see them again.  The fact that this person in the pyramid can’t die and wants to, the fact the reapers, in escaping death achieve basic immortality - and often are not so sure they like it - this would be a very weird way to create a fear of death, by creating an apparent desire for it! 

So I think within the universe, this fear is special because it encapsulates itself and its opposite - whereas the other fears have distinct opposites which are separate entities (buried and vast, eye and dark). Not only that, but as season 5 showed us, there are fears that can combine and match with each other, and there’s no fear that death DOESN’T complement!  Like yes, actual death will stop fear, but a healthy dose of the fear of dying will go with everything. So in the colour wheel theory, I say fear of death is black and creates shades with other colours, and fear of not-death is white and creates tints (I just really like this metaphor!).

I’d love to make anthropomorphic art of the entities as individuals, and groups of individuals, based on matching colours. Example - Death, The Buried, The Corruption all work together as a buried alive fear. Unfortunately my fine art skills are dismal, so I’ll let more talented people have a go if they like this idea. I get why I haven’t seen so much of this, as the avatars kind of do this anthropomorphism, but death itself as a concept has been characterised for thousands of years (I am a big fan of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s versions!), and we have 4 (+1?) horsemen of the apocalypse bringing war and pestilence into humanoid form so I reckon it could be pretty interesting how people envision the entities. Personally I imagine the vast like Junji Ito’s Spiral-faced girl (she’ll pull you in!).

Anyway, that’s my perspective on blending fears like colours, and why Death really isn’t like any of the others.

[aliceindaisychains999]

Hiii ✨️ I have a little ask for you!

How would the Primis crew react to a fem S/O that's generally quiet and reserved, only to learn that she is a big nerd when it comes to her special interests? Maybe she info-dumps and gushes about her knowledge of her special interest, and that's how they learn that she's really smart.

I, myself, am a huge nerd when it comes to astrology. Yet not many people know that 😅

Do take your time. I love your work 🩷

-🌾

AAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

I know I have to do this one!!! As a bonus, I'll throw in my personal headcanons for their astrological signs

Reactions of Primis: Quiet Fem S/O Excitedly Info-Dumps Their Passions (Includes Personal Perspective about Astrology)

Edward Richtofen - Sagittarius

His mind is always running a mile a minute all the time. So already listening to his s/o talk about their interests helps distract from The Horrors™️. Seeing you bounce about with joy after weeks of turmoil puts the softest smile on his face... And the biggest kiss on yours!

Intellectual conversation of any kind is something he needs for a close connection. Sharing one-on-one quality time like this is exactly what helps him thrive in a relationship. Even if a topic isn't something he is knowledgeable with, it will have importance to him if it's important to you.

Richtofen is rather strict about his scientific profession and typically scoffs at any pseudosciences. This is all a façade. What he will never tell you is that he secretly practiced alchemy in the past and has occult involvement with the Illuminati. Nevertheless, he would always be gentle to his s/o. The doctor will simply stay respectful and curious about your interest with astrology. I think in the long-term he might just spill a tiny bit about his practices to you.

Tank Dempsey - Scorpio

Seeing his soft-spoken sweetheart so suddenly excited is a very pleasant surprise (and he hasn't been able to find many good surprises this whole shitshow of an expedition). The fact that you trust him enough to open up so brightly like this helps him grow closer to you. Tank is a very good listener, but please forgive his dopey smiling the whole time. Your soothing voice and happy little mannerisms are making his heart throb. It's truly a sweet thing to see.

You never fail to open his mind to new experiences and interest. You can be both sharp-minded and sweet. Those are just some of many shining reasons why he loves you so much. With that being said, please come to him the moment you need an ear to let you infodump. Tank Dempsey is best known for his loyalty and reliability, so please remember that.

He thinks the mythology behind all the constellations are really cool! Orion is his favorite one. I suggest explaining to him during a stargazing date about the various celestial events while lying down on his chest. If it gets cold at night, he'll have you burrow underneath his leather jacket to keep warm. As for astrology readings, he would like to have his horoscope read (and perhaps get a tarot reading as well with you!)

Takeo Masaki - Libra

Takeo is a strong support who's always there to listen no matter what is on his partner's mind. He’s someone who will listen and nod without interruption. He may chuckle if you start to get jittery with joy about what you’re lecturing to him. Such a vibrant soul hidden in such a timid angel!

Takeo’s presence is very patient. If by chance you feel worried about “talking too much”, he reassures you that you could never do such a thing. You deserve to be able to thrive in what makes you so happy. And for shame on whoever tried to invalidate what you had to say!

Out of everyone in the Primis Crew, Takeo is the most spiritual without a doubt. He very much believes every soul carries a fundamental purpose. Being a more introverted soul, he can often be found reflecting in solitude. He would be able to discuss the philosophy of destined fate and similar divination topics with ease. Because it can go hand in hand, I think he would be able to perform a bit of Reiki healing if you were feeling particularly stressed.

Nikolai Belinski - Aries

Nikolai is already doting on you to begin with as his quiet yet kind girlfriend. Once something inspires you to express yourself, he is taken aback by how much passion you have for your special interest. It keeps him wondering more about you. You’re just a beautiful enigma he so desperately wants to know more of!

He’s more of a listener, but his add-ons to the conversation are either genuine questions to learn more about said topic or slipped-in compliments about how brilliant you are. Nikolai also may bring up stories it reminds him of. He could spend hours learning about just about anything you tell him.

The Soviet Union repressed a lot of expression, one of them being astrology. Because of this, Nikolai is completely new to it. Typically, he is a skeptic approaching anything that he comes across. But being his beautiful little treasure, you have the gift to get him to understand that the universe wants what’s best for him. He would grow to trust the divine and the guiding light of fate itself. He says the most profound things that would touch your soul with an enlightening comfort.

[13eyond13]

hello — do you have any death note fic recs that occur in the canon universe? they don’t necessarily need to be canon compliant, and i’d specifically prefer gen or lawlight. thank you so much :) your blog’s really fun to scroll through whilst putting off doing assignments

Aw, thank you anon! I quite like scrolling through my own blog too lol

And you got it, pal. I'd say it's about time I dust off my rusty fic recommending skills (I haven't been reading fanfiction regularly since probably about 2018, so these recs are not going to be the newest of the new, jsyk)...

Also, I'm ASSUMING this is the same anon who asked recently for fics a bit similar to

(X) Nights - youremyqueen [E, 400k+ words] L imprisons Light and then Light imprisons L and then L imprisons Light again. Sometimes they have sex, too.

? If not please forgive me, because I also used that as a guide when picking out these recs.

Also most of these recs are explicit and many of them are dark, so please check the tags and content warnings on the fics before reading them, just in case there's anything listed there that might be a dealbreaker for you! Should go without saying, but it's entirely on YOU if you end up reading something you're not comfortable with linked here, dear reader(s)...

--

CANON UNIVERSE + LAWLIGHT FIC RECS

SOME YOTSUBA ARC PWP ONE-SHOTS:

(X) Slap Fight - Shipaholic [E, 2k words] L makes a request. It gets out of hand. -(the girls are fiiiiighting...) (X) Love is an Open Door in My Ass - Shipaholic [E, 4k words] Matsuda gets very excited about an email forward. The task force despairs. -(technically meant to be taking place in the dramaverse, but you can easily imagine it as the anime/manga characters too. Rough sex but done with a lighter/softer tone) (X) Losing - Twyd [E, 2k words] L knows what losing feels like. -(depression!L is having a bit of a bad time... this writer makes L so quiet and sad and cute, and even though that's not often my cup of tea I still love everything they write) (X) Tresemme - Twyd [M, 2k words] L x Light slash. Set when they are handcuffed. Light just wishes L would dry his hair properly. He takes matters into his own hands. -(understated bittersweet fluff-smut) (X) Brilliant Bodies Disintegrate - Tartpants [E, 5k words] "L gives Light flesh made fact. L is the wayward flock for him to tend -- he’s Lucifer, the dawn-bringer, delivering light back to Light. Put bluntly, L’s the one who keeps shit interesting." -(L keeps being a big ho and making Light jealous on purpose to goad him into some rough sex-having, basically? Good if you liked that aspect of Nights...) (X)Trash Note - Tartpants [E, 3k words] "The character whose name is written in this note shall obey the writer’s every trash whim, no matter how out-of-character, preposterous, unsavory, carnal, humiliating, or cracktastic." -(if you ever want some goofy handcuffs smut that isn't taking itself too seriously at some point...)

SOME LONGER CANON UNIVERSE + LAWLIGHT FICS:

(X) Coexistence is Boredom - Sakurazukamori6 [M, 232k words] A new deathnote. A new plan for world sanctity. And an entirely misled Catholic clergy. Raito and L take their respective places on the sides of their own justice. A final battle waged in the Garden of Eden. -(This was my very fave Lawlight fic back in the 2000s, and a lot of it still holds up for me now and has a very special place in my heart even though it never actually got finished. I just love how L and Light and all the other characters are written in it, and appreciate that it can be angsty and suspenseful while still being funny and kinda lighter in tone for a canon universe Lawlight fic - it frequently makes me lol when I'm reading it. From what I remember it was the first fic that convinced me they'd potentially make a good couple beyond just unresolved sexual tension, too) (X) The Lies of Light Yagami - Kildeer [E, 38k words] “You’re pretty good Light, but I don’t see how you could hurt someone more with love than with death.” It was Light’s turn to smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Well then Ryuk, prepare yourself for a good show.” -(a bunch of missing scenes from the canon storyline, mostly smut. Very angsty and well done) (X) A Tithe to Hell - Aja [E, 34k words] Light has thirteen days to find out how it will feel--not just to kill, but to destroy. -(considered a fandom classic. I remember finding it intense and well-written, and that it also has a few interesting twists and turns) (X) Between the Black and White - Serria [M, 103k words] When L captures Light, he finds himself unwilling to relinquish his kindred spirit to the police, and instead has other plans to make Kira atone for his crimes. But the saga of Shinigami, genius intellect and old memories - BB - has only just begun. -(I haven't read it since it was new, and I don't think it ever got finished, but I remember this one being my fave of Serria's fics back in the day when I was a very fussy reader and only wanted to read fics set in the canon universe. Serria wrote a lot of great early Lawlight fics, and was my first friend in the fandom back in 2008 as well!) (X) A Cure for Love - halfpromise [M, 230k words] Light and L fall in love during the Yotsuba arc and Light's master plan is derailed when an assassin steals the Death Note. The threat of Kira is dwarfed when Kira's powers seem to have fallen into the hands of a terrorist organization known as Astraea and Light and L are united to find the culprit, but for how long... -(you've heard of the legendary Hinterland Doctrine fic series, now get ready for what I believe is halfpromise's very first fic? I don't think I actually read this whole thing so I don't know if it's finished, but I remember finding it fun to read her take on the canon characters too, and that what I did read had a pretty interesting plot and at times was quite funny as well)

[plulp]

hey guys sorry for the radio silence (4 days) :( Im Sick

but in other news: almost at 200 followers!!!! so if any of you want me to do the same thing i did last time (maybe not as much) or something different i can to celebrate :) since i should be free to draw however much after this week (have some things to take care of (while im sick))

[whumpy-wyrms]

hey guys

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

right. so. i meant to be writing the thasmissy fic. i did not do that but

i can explain

[themoonking]

sorry not sorry but if you were ever a prequel hater i'm gatekeeping you from being a prequel lover now that it's popular to do so. you don't get to shit on the prequels for no reason only to turn around and be a prequel stannie (ESPECIALLY a hayden christensen stannie) now that kenobi is the hot new star wars thing. obikins don’t touch my post, i am also gatekeeping you <3

[scattered-winter]

WINTER. i need to you know that you talk about the things you love with such joy and enthusiasm and excitement that it makes me want to be excited about them too, even though i know literally nothing about them. anyway congrats on the michael-bay-less transformers movie <333

LMAO I'M GLAD IT BRINGS YOU JOY <3333333333

the truth is I have ,,, sooo many mixed feelings about transformers. like. it's part of a much bigger universe filled with lore and it's like. star wars or dc comics-sized. and I simply do not have room in my brain for ANOTHER comics-sized media because that would be. too much. so I just forced myself through the worst movie franchise in history to cherry-pick things that I liked from it and made up everything else. <3

but like. first of all my inner 8 year old goes absolutely buckwild for transformers. they're GIANT ROBOT SUPERHEROES!!! that can TURN INTO CARS!!!!!!! and sometimes they have SWORDDSSSS!!!!!!!!! and as much as I can't stand the movies, the cgi with the transformations is soooooo <3333333333333333 and the transformer designs are all soooo cool too !!!!!!!

and the thing that really gets me about the transformers movies is that they have SO MUCH POTENTIAL to not only make inner 8 year old me the happiest guy on the planet but to also tell a very compelling story!!!! the autobots were forced from their home planet and most of their race was killed by the war that tore their planet apart!!!! all that's left of this once powerful race of incredibly powerful beings is a small handful of exhausted soldiers who are hiding out on earth because they're being hunted all over the galaxy!!!! and even after losing everything, they all still decide to fight for earth and protect humanity from the same fate that took their families, their people, and their entire planet away from them!!!!!!! I'm literally biting !!!!! and after setting up that premise michael bay just. didn't follow through. and the movies are filled with utter bullshit storylines and every autobot's personality gets completely rewritten every single movie because the entire plot revolves around michael's bland self insert characters. the movies are soooooooooo bad but they could be sooooo good and that's my entire mental illness about transformers summed up in a single sentence.

but anyway. I don't know anything about the director of the new movie or if they're any good, but the only way they could be worse than bay is if they let a toddler keysmash on a typewriter <3 I'd even argue that'd be a BETTER alternative than michael bay's directing <33 but anyway. I don't like how optimus looks in the trailer because like I said, the transformer designs in the bay movies are, unfortunately, really really cool. and the new movie seems to have taken optimus' original design like in the toys and old cartoons, which is FINE but also ,,, I miss catboy optimus :(

like. say what you will about the og movies but they sure could design an autobot !!!!!!!! optimus just looks so ,, boxy in the trailer. and I definitely prefer his other design. but honestly I'd rather have a shittier-looking optimus without bay than a badass-looking optimus with him. so.

I'm overall very very happy with how bumblebee looks though <3333 but to be fair he's my silly little guy skrunkle gal pal so whatever he does will always have me giggling and twirling my hair <333 he has never done anything wrong in his life <33333333

[crybaby-bkg]

I hate when people are so dismissive of the things that I’m excited about. it hurts.

[victory-cookies]

god I’m so torn. I have a few things I really buy rn but realistically I don’t think I can afford all of them. So I’m trying to weigh what I should let myself but bc I haven’t bought myself anything nice in a while

[booksunet]

:,) 💚