#or trying to make myself small or quiet

[milimeters-morales]

im finally getting ads completely in spanish now including the close/exit/proceed/shop now buttons that are on them ^_^ gonna start a journal soon for it as well!

[collideliketwostars]

I wait for you

;Alex G

[thrillbandit]

with the amount of effort it takes for me to ascend my internal mountains of 'nobody wants to hear what you have to say' and 'you are being out-of-this-world annoying' and 'what is even the point' and then getting to the top anyway to say my nonsense.......i should be getting as ripped outside as i am inside. where are my absolutely shredded calves as fruits of my intense psychological labors

[berrryparfait]

lick my conch ! 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: sylus, caleb, rafayel, zayne, xavier x fem-afab!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: "beach day", or so he said. little do you know that he's about to eat you out to the point of tears! 「i can't take this anymore... his tongue—!」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: [nsfw] pure smut, cunnilingus on the beach, squirting, cl*t stimulation, intense orgasms, semi-public, dubcon on reader's part

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: cherry – lana del rey

✧ a/n: reader singlehandedly spawned another ocean with her c*m and that's okay! #peaceandlove happy reading! <3

“The beach is quiet today, sweetie.” Sylus rests a calloused hand on your thigh, the warmth of his touch surprising you. “Uhuh…” You don’t quite know where he’s going with this. Looking around, there’s not a single person in sight, but you can hear voices coming from somewhere behind the giant beachrock you’ve been leaning against. You eye him suspiciously as his hand travels further up your thigh, a familiar glint in his eye that tells you you’re in deep, deep trouble. “Relax. no one can see or hear us.” Not here, Sylus!—you want to yell at him, but the pad of his thumb on your clit effectively silences you. He massages you gently through the thin fabric before pulling your thong to the side, your pussy already moist with arousal. “Well, look what we have here…” he muses, positioning his face between your legs and admiring your wet folds. “We’re in public—“ you begin, stopping short when his tongue pokes out to tease your clit. “Mmpfh—“ You try your best to suppress your moans, but he’s lapping at your cunt now, eagerly as a man starved. “Fuck, kitten—you taste so good…” He licks and sucks at your needy pussy, every inch of you begging for his attention despite the fact that you’re quite literally committing a felony right now. The thought flies right over your head, your entire being consumed by the quick, wet movements of his lips and tongue against your sensitive heat. As you feel your pleasure spiking, you grab his semi-wet hair and arch your back, attempting and failing to muffle your moans as you cum all over his mouth, the sensation crashing over you so hard you see stars. He smirks at you annoyingly while you writhe in pleasure, taking in the beautiful beach scenery that is now you. “Return the favor for me, will you, darling?”

Perfect weather, perfect day. The cool breeze brushes against your skin as you sip from your glass, the sour sweetness of the sparkling mojito dancing on your tongue. "This is so good," you remark, carelessly tipping the glass towards you and spilling a bit on your bare stomach. Caleb looks down at the mess you've made and tuts, as if wholly unsurprised. "She strikes again. Good thing I've got a way to clean that up." He brings his head down to your navel, then begins trailing small kisses down your stomach, cleaning the sweet liquid off your skin as he goes. When he reaches the waistline of your bikini bottoms, a lopsided smile twists his lips. "Caleb, we're out in the open right now—" you protest, but he pulls them to the side and begins licking at your folds anyway. You whine in surprise, frantically looking around the beach for signs of other people. His tongue is on your clit now, caressing your core with slow, languid movements at make your toes curl and knees buck. "You're wet for me, Pips..." he groans as your arousal coats his tongue and drives him wild. The friction between his mouth and your cunt is overwhelming, and you rock against his face out of your volition. "Ugh... Ahh—!" Propping yourself up with your elbows, the rough sand digging into your skin while you're consumed by the euphoric feeling that is Caleb's tongue between your folds, you hear footsteps approaching in your direction. "Quick, come for me, baby—" A wave crashes in the distance, mimicking your climax. You shake with pleasure as the orgasm hits you, squirting in Caleb's face as he massages your trembling thighs. "Quite the clean-up job, if I do say so myself."

"The water's so peaceful today," you muse, leaning your head on Rafayel's shoulder. "It might be a sign," he replies, the cryptic answer puzzling you. He chuckles at your quirked eyebrow, then shrugs. "All I'm saying is that we wouldn't want the calm tide to go to waste." Before you can make sense of what he's trying to say, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you up over his shoulder, balancing your weight with one hand. "Put me down, Raf! What are you—" With a splash, he tosses you into the water, jumping in right after. Treading, you look around, but can't see him anywhere. A pair of hands grips your thighs, and you gasp in shock, wondering if you should be fearing for your life right now. But the way the waves instantly calm, the way the sea suddenly looks bluer—you know it's him. He gently pulls your legs apart, and you instinctively search the shoreline for watchful eyes. Thankfully, there are none—for now. He pulls your swimsuit bottom down and in a split second his mouth is there, planting soft kisses on your clit. You bite your lip and rest your legs on his shoulders, unsure of what else to do. His tongue laps at your cunt, which has now grown wet independent of the seawater all around you. You can't hear him, but you can feel him groaning against your pussy, the warm vibrations buzzing through every nerve in your body and drenching you in ecstasy. "Ahh—ahh..." you moan out loud, hoping no one on land is able to see or hear your lewd expressions. A stronger wave sways you then, and his tongue hits your g-spot at just the right moment. You come undone with his mouth around your heat, crying out as your shake uncontrollably with nothing to grab on to but his hair. You can feel his dirty grin between your legs. He rises to the surface, face flushed and eyes heavy-lidded. "I may be a sea god, but I do love drowning."

You both decided to embark on this beach getaway to get your minds off work—something the two of you are pretty much constantly drowning in. Despite your dedication to the task, it's to ignore the fact that your inbox hasn't been checked in hours... "Zayne, maybe we should check our emails. Just the emails! I hate the thought of missing something important..." He smooths a hand over your arm. "We both assigned perfectly capable stand-ins, remember? Try your best to relax now that we're here." He pauses then, thinking. "I may have something in mind that could help. It's common knowledge that reaching orgasm is incredibly effective for relieving stress." You gape at him. "Reaching what now?" He smiles at you, gently, then gets on his knees before you can stop him. "Zayne! We're in a public space!" He ignores your feeble protests and spreads your thighs apart. The next thing you know, his mouth is on your bare pussy and you can think of nothing else. He starts off slow, worshipping your cunt with smooth, unhurried strokes. But it isn't long before he responds to your sweet verbal sounds, picking up the pace as if knowing exactly what you need. His lips firmly latch onto the area around your clit while his tongue straight up abuses the swollen nub, flicking it with such unrelenting speed that you cry out for mercy. "Fuck— Zayne—!" You clamp your thighs around his face, squeezing hard. Back arched and feet curled, your mind is no longer on emails, that's for sure. "Fuck, fuck—!" you wail before the orgasm hits you and you cum all over his mouth, squirting warm, transparent liquid onto his glasses and down his throat. He massages your pussy for a while longer, drawing out your climax as you spasm around his fingers. "There, better?"

"I like this one." He points to a baby blue seashell by your foot, eyeing it curiously. You laugh, trying your best to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs. You've been horny for the past hour, but don't want to say anything to ruin the innocence of your date. "You're ovulating, aren't you?" he asks, waking you from your stupor. "How did you know?" He grins sheepishly, then mutters something about how he always knows. "It's not a big deal, you know, me being like this. We don't have to do anything. I'm happy just sitting here with you—" "Ride my face." It sounds more like a command than a suggestion, and you waste no time following his orders. Making sure there's no one around, you slide your one-piece bathing suit off and position yourself right above his face, where his mouth is already open and waiting. "Fuck, you're so wet..." He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, and the feeling of your cunt settling onto his lips is heavenly. You begin to rock against his tongue to a steady rhythm, waves of pleasure filling your body as your clit rubs on his chin and nose. "Mmmpfh..." he sighs into your pussy, prompting you to fuck his face harder and faster than before. You grab a fistful of his hair and jerk your hips against his mouth, the both of you grunting with every thrust as the pressure builds and builds deep in your core. "Yes—right there, right there—!" you scream as his tongue hits that sweet spot, sending your heart into orbit. It's as if your hips have a mind of their own as you hump his mouth, the wet suction noises intensifying— You burst all over his face, squirt and cum leaking out of your pussy in violent spurts that he promptly licks up. Panting, you slump onto the sand and fall into an exhausted, satisfied heap. "Back to counting seashells, are we?"

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

[alpha-dash1998]

A Breath of Fresh Air: My Experience with the Breezy+ Air Purifier

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

🕳️ What to Write When You Have No Idea What Happens Next

aka: you’re staring into the creative abyss and the abyss is not only staring back, it’s asking for a rough draft

hi writer. welcome to that fun little liminal space in your project where ✨absolutely nothing✨ makes sense. you wrote the last scene. you know you’re not at the end. but suddenly your characters are just standing there like NPCs waiting for a quest marker and your brain is doing the spinning beachball of death.

so. what now?

let’s break down some actually useful strategies for when you hit That Point™️. not vibes. not ✨manifest your way out✨ energy. not the “just keep writing” slog. here’s what to do when your story is refusing to tell you what happens next:

———————————————

zoom out: do a “scene audit” ———————————————

you don’t need a full outline to do this. take five minutes and sketch a bullet list of every scene that’s happened so far. not just what happened, but why it mattered.

like this:

MC lied to their boss (sets up stakes re: trust/power)

antagonist shows up at cafe (establishes tension + location crossover)

best friend gets suspicious (emotional complication, adds pressure)

this gives you a birds-eye view of what you’ve set in motion. often you’re stuck because you’ve lost sight of the threads you were pulling, your own story has momentum, you just need to feel it again.

—————————————————————

try “ghost drafting” (aka fake writing) —————————————————————

open a doc. start typing what would happen, if you were writing. super casual. something like:

“okay i think the next scene is maybe them at the train station?? or wait--maybe we need to see the fallout of the argument. i don’t really know what x character wants rn but i think y might be planning something…”

this trick works bc it removes pressure. no fancy prose, no perfect structure. it’s literally you telling yourself what might happen. and weirdly? your brain will often finish the scene for you without asking. (the number of times I’ve ghost drafted myself into 800 usable words… witchcraft.)

——————————————————————————

pin your characters to a corkboard and interrogate them ——————————————————————————

not literally. (unless you're into that. i don’t judge.)

but seriously: when you’re stuck, it’s often because your character has no immediate goal or emotion. pause and ask:

what does this character want right now? like, in this moment?

what are they trying to avoid?

what’s keeping them from getting either?

character-driven scenes are rarely static. even if it’s just an awkward dinner or walking to the store, someone’s always trying to do or hide something. if everyone in the scene is just reacting or waiting, you’ve got fog. bring in the fire.

—————————————————

don’t skip the “boring” stuff--weaponize it —————————————————

sometimes we’re stuck because we think the next scene is dull. like “ugh i guess they just… travel to the manor” or “they regroup at the safe house.” but these slow beats are GOLD if you embed purpose.

try giving the “boring” scene:

a time limit or interruption (they’re hiding but someone knocks)

a secret (someone is lying about something small but important)

a reversal (what they expected is the opposite of what happens)

even if it’s a quiet scene, layer it. conflict isn’t just yelling or action. it’s discomfort. it’s misalignment. tension between what’s said and unsaid.

—————————————————————

when all else fails: write the next emotional beat —————————————————————

strip it back. forget plot. forget pacing. ask yourself:

then write that. a monologue. a journal entry. an outburst. a line of whispered dialogue.

sometimes it’s not that you don’t know what happens next. it’s that your character hasn’t processed what just happened, and until they do, the story can’t move forward.

✨✨✨

the void is normal. getting stuck doesn’t mean you failed or picked the wrong idea or that the muse packed up and left for a better writer’s house. it just means your brain needs space to regroup.

writing isn’t linear. stories aren’t built in perfect lines. they loop. they stall. they circle back. and that’s okay.

if you’re in the middle of nowhere, here’s your sign to sit on the side of the metaphorical road, open your weird little notebook, and write anyway. write wrong. write messy. write ghost drafts. the path shows up when you start walking.

🕳️ you got this, writer.

tag me if you end up crawling out of your stuck scene with a little victory paragraph. i’ll bring snacks for the next one 🧃✨

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

[kenntoria]

synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ nanami accidentally finds your small, anxious-but-sincere vlogs and quietly falls for you through the screen. and when you meet, he becomes a gentle, faceless presence behind the camera—helping you grow, and loving you all the while.

tori’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ this was so fun to write

nanami doesn’t really use youtube. it’s too loud, too cluttered, too full of people trying too hard. he’s more of a quiet reader or podcast listener—he likes his content slow and thoughtful. but sometimes, during quiet lunch breaks or sleepless nights, he finds himself scrolling, searching for something simple to fill the silence.

the first time he sees your face, he skips the video. it’s nothing personal. the thumbnail just seems… ordinary. a soft smile, a blurry background of what looks like a street food stall, and a simple title: “trying something new today (๑•́‿•̀๑)”. he doesn’t think much of it.

but youtube, in all its persistence, keeps putting you in his recommendations.

every few days, your face reappears. new title. new blurry background. another small smile. there’s something oddly comforting about it, even if he hasn’t clicked yet. eventually, curiosity wins. one night, half-asleep and curled up on his couch, he taps on a thumbnail without thinking.

the video is quiet. not silent, but there’s no obnoxious background music or jump cuts. just you. talking a little nervously to the camera, explaining how you’ve never tried this kind of food before, how it makes you anxious to eat alone in public but you’re doing it anyway, for yourself. you pause a lot. laugh at yourself. your editing is minimal—sometimes you just leave long clips in where you sit there silently, debating the next bite.

and nanami… stays.

he doesn’t mean to. he thinks he’ll just let the video play in the background while he dozes off. but he finds himself watching. then clicking on another one. and another. you talk to the camera like it’s a friend. you say things like “i know no one’s really watching this, but…” and “this was scary for me, but i’m proud of myself anyway.”

there’s no performance. no show. just you, trying. trying to live a little braver. trying to make the world a little softer for yourself. and even though your videos have only a few thousand views at most, and a comment section with maybe ten or twenty kind words, nanami can tell you read every single one. you reply with gratitude and sincerity. you sign your replies with hearts and “thank you for watching!!” even when someone just says “nice vid :)”.

he doesn’t comment for a long time. he watches quietly, always late at night, a silent companion to your small adventures. his favorite video becomes one where you try to bike through a park trail you’ve never been on before. the camera shakes the entire time, the sky is gray, and you end up getting rained on halfway through. soaked and breathless, you laugh and say, “this was a disaster. but i don’t regret it.” and something about that sticks in his chest.

he comments on a video one day. it’s short, awkwardly formal:

“i admire your courage to keep stepping outside your comfort zone. thank you for sharing.”

a few hours later, you reply.

“thank you so much!!! i get really nervous about posting sometimes so this means a lot ;; i’m trying my best!! ♡”

nanami reads that reply more times than he’d like to admit.

—

he doesn’t think he’ll ever meet you. you feel like a little glowing orb in his private world. something precious that lives on his phone, just a click away, not real, not tangible.

but then, he’s at a weekend market. the kind of place you’d probably vlog, actually. he’s just there to buy fresh bread, enjoy the quiet, maybe grab a coffee. he’s walking past a stand selling handmade keychains when he hears a familiar voice.

soft. a little unsure. asking for the price of something.

he turns.

and you’re there.

you look just like your videos—maybe a little shorter, bundled in a cardigan despite the warmth, your bag too big for your frame, holding a small camera that’s not even recording. your hair’s a little messy. your eyes bright, darting around nervously. you’re alone.

and suddenly, nanami is nervous in a way he hasn’t been in years.

he debates not saying anything. he could let this pass. keep you as a digital secret. but then you glance in his direction, and smile—just polite, a brief flicker of recognition for another passerby—and nanami finds himself stepping forward before his brain catches up.

“…excuse me,” he says, and your eyes widen a little.

“yes?” you ask, voice soft.

“i’ve… watched your videos,” he says, and you freeze for a second. “they mean a lot to me.”

you blink. your mouth opens a little in surprise, then closes. and then you smile.

“really?” you say, a little breathless. “you… you actually watch them?”

“yes,” he says simply. “i think you’re brave.”

your hand flies up to your mouth, eyes darting away. “oh my god,” you mumble. “that’s—thank you. that’s so nice. i didn’t think anyone recognized me. my channel’s tiny.”

“doesn’t change the impact,” he says, and it’s honest. the way he always is.

you talk for a while after that. awkwardly at first—your nerves, his reserved nature—but slowly, something soft and lovely builds in the air between you. you laugh a lot, mostly just nervous. he listens a lot, mostly because that’s just the way he is. he tells you his name is kento. you tell him you were scared to even leave the house today, but you’re glad you did. he smiles.

before you part ways, you ask, very shyly, if he’d be okay with you filming just a little. not his face, of course—just his voice, his presence. he agrees.

that night, a new video goes up.

“a tiny adventure at the weekend market ✿ i made a new friend today…”

nanami watches it from his bed, and when his offscreen voice appears—gentle, amused, offering to carry your bag for you—his heart does something strange in his chest.

—

the first time nanami appears in a vlog, it’s his hand passing you a coffee.

you call him “a friend i made recently,” and giggle when he corrects your pronunciation of a pastry. he’s never shown — not fully. a shoulder here. the back of his head. your viewers are very curious. you just smile, almost bashful, and say, “he’s camera-shy, but he’s very sweet.”

you start mentioning him more in your vlogs. he’s still off-screen, but you’ll glance his way and smile. say something like “he helped me set this up,” or “he picked this place,” or just “he’s here with me.”

you don’t have to say his name. he stays a faceless figure in your videos. your viewers start to notice something more.

you never confirm anything. you just smile, cheeks pink, and say, “he’s really sweet. i’m lucky.”

nanami doesn’t need the spotlight. he’s happy to carry your bag, offer a steady hand when you’re nervous, and hold the camera when you want to capture something new. he’s happy to be the one encouraging you behind the scenes, whispering that you’re doing great when you doubt yourself.

you film together more and more. he goes with you to bookstores, little food stalls, quiet museums. he carries your tripod. holds your coat. gives you gentle encouragement when you freeze up in public and smile too hard when it’s over.

he falls in love with you quietly. over time. he doesn’t say it at first. he lets it bloom through little gestures — buying the tea you liked, learning how to edit videos just to help you with cuts, leaving voice notes when you’re too anxious to leave the house. he listens. he supports. he stays.

and he’s happiest when, in a quiet clip near the end of a video, you look off-camera and say, “i think i’m a little less scared of the world lately.”

he squeezes your hand off-screen. you smile at the touch.

and your viewers never hear the softest part—how, when the camera stops recording, you lean into his side and whisper, “thank you for finding me.”

nanami, who never believed in fate or chance or algorithms, just kisses your cheek and replies, “thank you for being found.”

[luna-azzurra]

Vibes for Characters #1

Who Are Angry, But Don’t Know Why...

(aka the ones who punch walls emotionally, even if they never touch anything)

☽ Clenched fists for no reason. Fingernails digging into palms. White knuckles. Always. ☽ Their jaw is sore, but they don’t realize it’s from grinding their teeth all day. ☽ Quick to snap at people who ask “Are you okay?”—because no, but they don’t have a map to what’s actually wrong. ☽ Laughs in the middle of an argument, but it’s that ugly laugh. That “God I wish I knew how to scream without breaking something” laugh. ☽ Gets weirdly emotional over small inconveniences. Burnt toast. Traffic. Missing socks. Not because of the thing—but because of everything. ☽ Hates being pitied more than being hated. ☽ Half the things they say sound sarcastic, even when they’re not trying to be. ☽ Walks too fast. Eats too fast. Always doing something like stillness might swallow them whole. ☽ Tells people “I’m just tired” when what they mean is “I don’t trust myself not to explode.” ☽ Picks fights with mirrors. Or themselves. ☽ Looks calm from a distance, but their energy feels like a storm about to break. ☽ The kind of person who storms out and comes back five minutes later because they weren’t done arguing with themselves.

Who Don’t Think They Deserve to Exist

(The “I’m fine, but I’m not supposed to be here” kind of characters. The ghost-in-their-own-body ones.)

☽ Flinches when praised. Freezes when complimented. Looks confused, like kindness is a foreign language they never learned. ☽ Keeps everything small. Their voice. Their handwriting. Their footprint in the world. ☽ Won’t ask for help, but apologizes for asking if they’re allowed to ask. ☽ Constantly feels like they’re taking up space they didn’t earn. Physically, emotionally, narratively. ☽ Will drop everything to take care of you—and absolutely cannot handle being taken care of in return. ☽ Fills silences with self-deprecation. Can’t stand being left alone with just their own breathing. ☽ Has entire imaginary conversations in their head about being a burden. Usually ends with them deciding to stay quiet. ☽ Smiles when they’re sad, because they’ve learned people like them better that way. ☽ Lives in survival mode, even in safe places. ☽ The kind of tired that isn’t fixed by sleep. The kind of ache that doesn’t bruise. ☽ Doesn’t think anyone would miss them if they left—but still shows up for everyone anyway. ☽ Would literally sacrifice themselves for someone else’s peace, and not tell anyone they were in pain while doing it.

Who Would Rather Self-Destruct Than Be Vulnerable

(You know the type. “I’m fine,” they say, while bleeding emotionally in six places and making it your fault.)

☽ Has a six-sense radar for emotional intimacy and bolts the second they feel it coming. ☽ Jokes about their trauma before anyone else can ask questions. ☽ Flirts like it’s war. Gets emotionally close like it’s a death sentence. ☽ Hates silence because it feels like it might start telling the truth. ☽ Master of the “accidental push away” (says things like “You don’t really care,” when what they mean is “Please prove me wrong.”) ☽ Would rather burn a bridge than admit they actually want you to cross it. ☽ Says “It’s not a big deal” about everything, even when it obviously is. ☽ Responds to “Are you okay?” with “Define okay.” ☽ Thinks vulnerability is weakness, but secretly craves someone who’ll stay after seeing the mess. ☽ Their love language is sabotage. Their defense mechanism is charisma. ☽ Will talk you through your emotional breakdown with terrifying clarity—and ghost you the second you ask how they’re doing. ☽ Would rather be hated for who they pretend to be than be hurt as who they really are.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

P☆SSY OBSESSED WOLVES.

paring : wolf!zayne, sylus, caleb and xavier x fem!reader.

synopsis : You got lost in the woods, just trying to find a way out. Instead, you found him—half-wolf, all muscle, and painfully in heat. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. One look, one growl, and you knew exactly what he wanted. And god… you wanted it too

tws : nsfw ／ smut, vaginal (creampie), marking, bitting, cervix kissing, nipple play, spanking, knotting (locked), multiple of rounds,, fingering, breeding kink and size kink.

note : I FINALLY FINISHED THIS, IT FELT LIKE YEARS!! Also didn’t do rafayel since I was too tired and didn’t feel like it. also there might be alot of mistakes since it ain’t proofread. ✌🏼

－ZAYNE ．

You were just trying to find your way out.

A wrong turn, a dead GPS, and an eerie quiet. The deeper into the woods you went, the heavier the air got. The moon hung low—full and yellow—watching.

Then you saw him.

Tall. Bare-chested. Black ears pinned back. Broad shoulders rising with ragged breaths. Zayne.

But not the calm Zayne you knew.

This one had hazel green eyes blown wide, tail twitching like a metronome behind him, body radiating heat like he was burning alive from the inside out.

“Y-you okay?” you asked, barely able to speak with how hard your throat clenched.

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared.

Then sniffed.

Hard.

And groaned. Low. Deep. The kind that made your knees wobble.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice hoarse. “I was trying to be alone.”

“Zayne…” You took a small step closer. “Are you—?”

“In heat.” His jaw clenched. “It’s… hard to fight.”

You swallowed. He looked huge. Wild. His muscles twitched, like he was holding himself back with the last bit of sanity he had left.

He took a shaky breath, ears flattening as he forced out, “You need to leave, sweetheart. I can’t trust myself.”

But you didn’t run.

Because fuck, the way he looked at you—like prey he’d die for—had your panties soaked. Your thighs clenched.

He noticed.

His nostrils flared again. “You’re… turned on.”

You nodded.

That’s all it took.

He was on you—hands gentle but firm, pushing you against a tree. He kissed you like he’d waited years for it, like his tongue could taste the want leaking out of you.

“I’m sorry,” he growled into your mouth, grinding into you. “You smell too good. You’re not safe with me—unless you say yes. Say it now, and I’ll stop. Please. Say it.”

Your body arched to his.

“Zayne,” you gasped, “Please. Fuck me. I want it—I want you.”

His restraint shattered.

He growled, spun you around, yanked your panties down and pressed your back against a tree trunk rough with bark. His cock—thick, hot, leaking—rubbed between your soaked folds.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make sure you’re too full to walk. You sure about this?”

“Breed me,” you begged.

And that was it.

He plunged in slow, dragging a moan from your throat. He was massive. You swore you could feel every inch rearranging you, kissing the back of your pussy.

“That’s it… good girl,” he whispered, holding your hips as you trembled. “You’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well.”

Crack!

You yelped when his hand smacked your ass.

“Stay still,” he growled. “Let me fuck this little pussy like it’s mine.”

He slammed in again, deeper, harder. You gasped, arching against the tree, toes curling in your boots.

You couldn’t even speak. Just drooled and cried out while he used your cunt like it was built for him.

Then—he bit.

Teeth sank into your shoulder, not enough to draw blood, but enough to mark. Your pussy clenched around him, fluttering as you came.

“That’s it,” he groaned, voice feral. “Mark you—so everyone knows. You’re mine. Say it.”

“M’yours,” you slurred.

He laughed softly, wrecked and breathless. “God, you’re so pretty when you go dumb for it…”

He grabbed your hair, gently pulled you back so he could watch your face as he shoved deep—so deep his tip pressed right against your cervix.

“Fuck—you feel that? That’s your limit. And I’m still not all the way in.”

You moaned, wrecked, dripping down your thighs.

He kissed your cheek. “One more. Let me knot you.”

His knot—it was swollen at the base, barely able to push in. He grunted, forcing it past your entrance. You screamed, body locking up as it stretched you wide, plugging you.

“Shh… I got you,” he whispered. “Just let it happen. I’ll take care of you.”

Then he came.

Hot, thick ropes shot into your womb, filling you so fast it spilled out around his knot. Your legs gave out. He caught you with both arms, pressing soft kisses to your neck even as he stayed locked inside.

“You’re so full, sweetheart,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. I can feel your cunt milking me—wanting it.”

You were a mess. Barely conscious. Babbling his name.

He held you like glass.

“I’ll carry you back when my knot goes down,” he murmured. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… let me hold you. Let me take care of my mate.”

You whimpered into his chest.

You’d never been claimed like this.

And you’d never wanted anyone else again.

－SYLUS ．

You should’ve never wandered into the woods after dark—but you couldn’t help yourself. The moon was full. The air was thick. Something in your chest had been aching, restless, and now your legs carried you deeper and deeper until the world went quiet.

That’s when you felt it—eyes on you.

Then you saw him.

Standing in a clearing like he belonged to it.

Sylus.

His usual composed, unreadable expression was gone—replaced with a glazed hunger, his red eyes glowing with something ancient. His white hair was tousled, his white ears twitching slightly, that thick, soft white tail low and flicking. His skin glistened, shirt discarded, chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. His cock—already hard—strained against his pants, the bulge obscenely thick, the knot at the base already swelling.

He was trying to control it.

But the moment your scent hit him—your arousal blooming in your panties just from the sight of him—he snapped.

“Kitten,” he said lowly, voice rough and calm, like he was lecturing you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re in heat too, aren’t you?” He stalked closer. You backed into a tree. His hand braced beside your head, body towering over yours. “Look at you. Tits bouncing with every breath. Eyes begging for it. Don’t lie to me.”

He reached between your legs. Two fingers pressed against your soaked underwear and dragged up, slow.

“So wet already…” he murmured. “What were you thinking, wandering this deep, smelling like this?”

“I—I didn’t mean to—” you started, but his fingers pressed harder, right against your clit, drawing a whimper from your lips.

“Yes, you did. You wanted to be found. Wanted someone to take control. Wanted me.”

You couldn’t answer.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Say it. Say you want my cock.”

“I… want it,” you gasped. “Please, Sylus—want all of you.”

He chuckled softly, then kissed you—slow and deep, tongue sliding in with all the patience of a man about to lose it. One hand slid up under your shirt, cupping your tit, thumbing your nipple until you moaned into his mouth.

“Perfect fucking tits,” he murmured, squeezing it in his palm. “Soft little handfuls—gonna leave bruises on these.”

He shoved your shirt up, mouth latching onto one nipple, sucking it between his teeth while his hand rolled the other. You clawed at his back, trembling.

Then he moved—quick and smooth—pushing you to the forest floor, flipping you onto your back and dragging your shorts off with one hard pull.

“Open up, kitten,” he ordered. “Let me see.”

You spread for him.

He hissed between his teeth. “Fucking gorgeous. And this little pussy—fuck—it’s drooling. You really did come out here for cock.”

Two fingers slid in without warning. Your back arched off the mossy ground, eyes rolling back.

“So tight,” he said, watching your hole stretch around his fingers. “So fucking needy. Bet you’ll milk me dry the second I knot you.”

He curled his fingers up, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, pumping until you were shaking—until your thighs clamped around his wrist.

“You gonna cum already?” he whispered. “Just from my fingers?”

You nodded helplessly.

“Then cum. Right now. Do it while I watch.”

Your pussy clamped around his fingers, soaking him. He held you through it, still working you as you sobbed into your arm, overwhelmed.

“That’s one,” he said. “We’re not done.”

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, cock slapping heavy against his stomach—long, flushed, throbbing, and veiny. The tip leaked pre-cum in thick drops. And his knot… gods, it looked impossible.

“You’re going to take all of it,” he promised. “Even this.”

He lined up and shoved in.

You screamed.

His cock was massive, stretching you to the edge of pain—but it was perfect. You could feel everything. Every throb. Every vein. He bottomed out, hitting your cervix, and stayed there.”

“Kitten,” he whispered against your cheek, holding still, letting you feel him twitch inside. “You’re already stuffed. But you can take more.”

He started moving—slow, deep strokes that rocked your whole body.

He grabbed your tits again, squeezing and slapping them lightly. Watching them bounce as he thrust.

“Love these. So fucking soft. I could fuck them too. Make you lick the head while I slide between them. Would you like that?”

You moaned, brain melting from how full you felt.

He leaned down and bit your tit—hard. Not enough to break skin, but enough to leave his teeth behind.

Then he grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, biting your neck next—deeper. Harder. Marking you.

“Mine,” he growled. “You hear me, kitten? I’m going to fuck you until your womb knows it. Until you feel me every time you walk.”

His pace grew brutal. No more patience. Just raw, slapping thrusts as his knot started to catch on your entrance.

“You ready?” he panted. “I’m gonna plug you. Gonna fill you up so deep it won’t leave.”

You begged, moaned, cried for it.

And then with a feral grunt—he forced it in.

Your pussy screamed around it, stretched wide, locked.

Then he came.

Hot, thick spurts flooded your womb, each one timed with his cock twitching, his hips jerking involuntarily. There was so much. Too much. It leaked around the knot, smeared down your ass.

You were sobbing, overstimulated, completely ruined.

And he still held your tits like they were his favorite toys, thumbing your nipples even as he emptied himself inside you.

He leaned down, kissing your throat.

“Shhh, kitten. You’re okay,” he whispered. “I know it’s a lot. Just breathe.”

He stayed knotted, holding you close, petting your hair.

“You’re mine now,” he said softly. “And I’m not letting go. Not tonight. Not ever.”

You’re still shaking when he rolls his hips again.

Still spread open beneath him, pinned to the forest floor, his massive cock locked inside you by that thick, swollen knot. Your pussy stretches around it—wet, swollen, twitching. His cum leaks out in warm, milky drips, making a mess of your thighs and the moss beneath.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d cum. How many times he made you cum.

And Sylus? He’s just smiling.

Not that cocky, boyish smirk. No. This one is slow. Quiet. Predatory. His glowing red eyes never leave your face. Not even for a second.

“You look beautiful like this,” he whispers, brushing your hair from your face. “So full. So fucked-out. My perfect little kitten.”

You whimper, barely able to respond. Your arms are limp around his shoulders, your chest heaving as he starts slowly grinding his hips again.

The knot grinds against your inner walls, stretching you just enough to ache—and Sylus watches you fall apart again with quiet satisfaction.

“Sensitive already?” he hums, tilting his head. “But you’re still so tight around me. Squeezing like you want more.”

Your nails scrape his back. “Sylus—nngh—can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” He leans in, nuzzling your neck with his nose. “You will. You’re made to take me, kitten. Look at your poor pussy, still clenching, still drooling for me. You want to be ruined again, don’t you?”

He thrusts—just once. Shallow. Cruel.

You scream.

It hits your cervix, hard, and you feel him throb inside you. The pressure of the knot keeps you stretched, stuffed, plugged, and now he’s moving again—just enough to push you over the edge.

“Cum for me,” he whispers, lips at your ear. “Do it. Let me feel you.”

You don’t even need to try.

Your whole body jerks, pussy spasming around the knot as your eyes roll back. You’re sobbing. Barely even conscious. All you know is Sylus—his heat, his cock, the growl in his throat as he starts to rut into you again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “There you go. Just like that. Let it all out. Let me feel this greedy little cunt choke on me.”

He pulls out just enough to tease, dragging his cock along your walls, letting you feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch of his swollen tip before forcing the knot back in. You cry out again.

“Shhh,” he murmurs. “I know, kitten. I know it’s too much. But you’re taking it so well. So perfectly. I’m going to keep going until you’re bred so full, it leaks out for days.”

He leans down and bites your neck again, deeper this time—his canines sinking in just hard enough to sting, marking you all over again. You can feel the heat of his breath, the calm in his voice, even as he uses your body like it’s his.

His hand slides down to your chest, cupping your tit and kneading it slowly. He brushes a thumb over your sensitive nipple, then pinches—just to hear you gasp.

“Still so soft,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I could spend hours just playing with these. My hands were made to hold them.”

You moan, incoherent. Everything’s too much.

And Sylus knows it.

He watches your face closely as you writhe under him, your legs spread wide, his tail swishing lazily behind him. Every time you sob, he kisses your cheek. Every time your pussy clenches, he praises you.

“You’re doing so well, kitten. Letting me fill you like this. Taking my knot like a good little bitch in heat.”

He slows down again. Just grinding now. Letting the knot drag against your g-spot while his tip kisses your cervix with every roll of his hips.

It’s devastating.

You’re mewling, twitching, your fingers tangled in his white hair, clutching him like he’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, lips trembling. “Don’t pull out. Ever.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he says softly. “This pussy’s mine now.”

You’re drooling. Moaning his name like a prayer. His red eyes glow brighter in the moonlight as he watches you unravel, slowly, completely.

Another orgasm rips through you.

And he doesn’t stop.

Not until your body gives out, limp and twitching beneath him, your pussy still fluttering around the knot like it misses him already.

He holds you there, gently, his hand stroking your thigh while his cock pulses with one more slow, deep release—thick cum flooding your insides again, pushed up against your womb, warm and claiming.

You can barely speak.

You’re ruined.

And Sylus?

Still hard. Still in you.

Still whispering into your ear, calm as ever:

“You’re not going anywhere tonight, kitten. I’m going to keep you like this. Plugged. Bred. Mine.”

— CALEB ．

You should’ve turned back when the sun dipped low—but you didn’t. The woods had grown darker, quieter, and every path looked the same. You’d lost service hours ago, your legs ached, your heartbeat pounded behind your ears, and the air was thick—hotter than it should’ve been.

Then you heard it.

A low, ragged pant. Not like a dog. Deeper. More desperate.

Then—your name. Half-growled, wrecked, hungry.

“…You came.”

You froze.

He stepped out from between the trees, his wolf ears twitching, tail hanging low and stiff behind him. His eyes locked onto yours like he was starving—and you were dinner.

Your breath caught. You didn’t speak. You didn’t move.

He did.

Caleb closed the distance fast—hands grabbing your hips, holding you still, panting against your neck like he’d been chasing you for miles. You felt his whole body trembling. His voice, when he spoke, was guttural, cracked with restraint.

“I tried to wait,” he breathed. “I did. But it hurts.”

You shuddered.

His nose skimmed your neck, dragging in your scent. His groan vibrated against your skin. “Fuck. You’re… perfect. Your smell—you’re ready, too.”

You weren’t sure when your back hit a tree, or when his hand slipped between your thighs—but suddenly your shorts were on the forest floor, and his fingers were dragging slow, wet circles over your clit.

“Already soaked?” he murmured. “You came out here wanting this, didn’t you?”

You whimpered.

Two fingers slid inside—deep, slow, curling in just the right place to make your legs shake. His tail thumped the ground once. He licked his lips.

“Your body knows what it wants. Knows who it belongs to, pipsqueak.”

He dropped to his knees. You nearly screamed when his tongue replaced his fingers, licking deep and slow and messy—like he was starving. Your thighs clamped around his head. He groaned into you.

“You taste like heat,” he growled against your cunt, licking faster. “Fuck—I need to be inside you.”

You were shaking when he stood back up, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt fluttering from just his mouth and fingers. He turned you around before you could speak—hands bracing you against the tree, fingers digging into your hips.

You felt the heat of him. Thick. Heavy. Pressing against your entrance.

He leaned in, mouth against your ear, breath ragged. “I’m going to ruin you.”

And then he pushed in.

You cried out—stretching wide around his cock, gasping when he bottomed out with one deep thrust. He was huge. You felt everything—his tip nudging your cervix, his shaft pulsing inside you, the obscene drag of his length as he started to move.

“So tight,” he groaned. “So good—fuck, you’re squeezing me like you were made for this.”

His rhythm picked up. Every thrust hit deep. His hips slapped against your ass, hands spanking you when you clenched too hard.

“You like it when gege fills you up like this? Gonna take it all, aren’t you?”

Your answer was a sob.

Then—you felt it. That stretch. That pressure. His knot was swelling.

You shook your head. “Caleb, wait—!”

He growled. “Too late. You said yes with your body.”

His knot forced inside with a wet pop. You screamed as it locked deep in your cunt, locking you together, sealing you around him.

Caleb slammed one last time, hard and deep, groaning as thick waves of cum pulsed from him, filling your womb so full you felt it ache. Your stomach fluttered. Your body trembled. You couldn’t move—only feel.

“You feel that?” he whispered, biting your shoulder just enough to leave a mark. “I’m breeding you, pipsqueak.”

And he didn’t stop.

Even as your legs gave out, even as your cunt fluttered from overstimulation, he held you tight, whispering filth into your ear.

“Round two’s coming. You’re not done. Gotta make sure it takes. Gotta feel you swell with me.”

He fucked you through it, again and again, even as you sobbed and begged—his tail twitching, his ears perked, hands stroking your clit, tugging your nipples, spanking your ass until you were gasping.

You lost count of the orgasms. You lost track of time.

But he didn’t stop until the knot finally deflated—only to build again.

Because once wasn’t enough.

— XAVIER ．

You didn’t mean to wander so far. The sun had been up when you started walking—but now the woods were bathed in silver light, shadows crawling across the underbrush, air thick with something humid, heavy, and strange.

You felt it before you heard him.

A pulse in your chest. A flicker of instinct. Something was watching you.

Then—his voice.

Low. Shaky. Familiar. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You turned—and there he was.

Xavier.

His usual sharp composure was gone. His silver hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. His shoulders rose and fell with each uneven breath. His tail was stiff behind him, twitching. His wolf ears were flattened, trembling. His eyes were glowing.

You didn’t have to ask. You didn’t need to.

Your legs wobbled. Your heart pounded.

He stepped closer, slow, every movement tense—like he was holding himself back.

“I can smell you.”

Your breath hitched.

“Do you know what that does to me?” His voice cracked. “I haven’t touched anyone in years. I’ve avoided this. But now you’re here. You’re wet. You’re ready.”

You should’ve run.

But your body ached. Every part of you wanted him.

You whispered his name—and he snapped.

He was on you in seconds, shoving you back against a tree, his mouth crashing into yours with a hunger that bordered on feral. His hands tore at your clothes, pulling them off in pieces, until you were bared to the cold air—and his burning skin.

His mouth trailed down—neck, shoulder, breast. He latched onto your nipple, sucking, teeth grazing, tongue flicking. Your moans echoed in the trees. One hand groped your ass while the other slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding in deep.

“So tight,” he growled. “You’ll stretch for me.”

His fingers worked you open—slow at first, then harder, rougher. You cried out, clutching his shoulders. Your body trembled.

“I need to be inside you,” Xavier said, voice broken with need. “But I have to warn you—I’m not human when I’m like this.”

You nodded. You didn’t care.

He turned you around, bending you over a mossy rock, his hands gripping your hips. You felt him press against your entrance—huge, hot, throbbing—and when he finally pushed in, you screamed.

He bottomed out in one slow thrust, hips grinding against yours, cock so thick it kissed your cervix. Your body spasmed. He groaned low, fangs bared.

“Fuck—you’re perfect.”

He started moving—deep, hard strokes, hips smacking against your ass, each thrust rougher than the last. You sobbed his name, your walls clenching. He spanked you when you tightened too much.

“You like being filled like this?” he snarled. “You were made to take my knot.”

You didn’t know how long he fucked you like that. Your thoughts were gone. Everything was heat and pressure and him. His cock throbbed deep in your belly. Your slick dripped down your thighs.

Then—you felt it.

His knot.

Thick. Swollen. Pushing at your entrance with every thrust.

“I’m gonna lock inside you,” he growled. “Gonna fill you. Mark you.”

You begged. You cried. You said yes.

With one brutal thrust, his knot popped inside. You screamed—stretched wide, locked full. He growled as he came, hips grinding as his seed spilled inside you in thick, hot waves.

Your belly ached. Your legs gave out. He held you tight.

Still knotted. Still hard.

“You’re not done,” he whispered into your neck. “You can take more.”

He flipped you over without pulling out, your back pressed to the grass, his knot keeping you locked. His hand slid between your thighs, stroking your clit, making you sob. His lips found your other nipple, sucking deep, marking it with his tongue.

“I want you full,” he growled. “Want it dripping out of both holes.”

You blinked up at him, dazed.

He smirked.

“You didn’t think I’d stop at one, did you?”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[libingan]

—no questions asked.

you’ve always been his, even before the words were ever said—no labels needed when everything else speaks for itself.

i remember candace and jeremy's relationship in phineas and ferb. i liked how jeremy assumed they were already dating and thought to myself "simon riley" so here it is.

it’s always been this way with simon.

the little things you’ve shared, those moments that nobody else gets to see, have slowly built up over time. long drives where the silence is comfortable, quiet moments when you’re wrapped up in a blanket together, his arm draped around your shoulders. you’ve shared soft kisses in the early morning light, whispered words when you think no one’s listening, and occasional touches that linger just a second too long to be deemed innocent. his gruff voice calling you his—just “his,” as if you’re already a part of something bigger, something unspoken.

but the question always lingers in the back of your mind: what are we?

because in your head, you’re not his girlfriend. you never really were. sure, you’ve done couple things—spent hours together, laughed over inside jokes, shared moments that feel like they belong to only the two of you. but whenever you think about it, you can’t quite place a label on what you are. you never had that conversation, the one where he asks you out, where you define what this thing between you is.

and deep down, you’ve always known. maybe it’s not meant to last. maybe simon’s just passing through your life like a storm, wild and unpredictable, leaving you wondering if you’ll ever feel whole again once the dust settles. you’ve never asked for a commitment. it was enough for you to just be close, to keep things easy and fluid, without any promises that might eventually break.

but then, everything changes the moment you decide to confront him.

it’s a quiet night, the kind where the world outside seems to stop, and you’re sitting in the living room, the only sound being the soft hum of the kitchen light. simon’s sprawled across the couch, eyes half-lidded as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning your back against the coffee table, and you can’t stop your thoughts from swirling.

the truth has been eating at you for weeks now, months maybe. you have to ask. you need to know if this is really what you want, and more importantly, if it’s what simon wants. so, you let the question slip, unsure of how it’ll come out, but it tumbles from your lips all the same.

“simon,” you begin, your voice quiet but firm, “what are we?”

he doesn’t immediately look up from his phone. it’s as if the question barely registers, but you know he’s heard it. you can feel his attention slowly turning your way, as if his brain needs a second to process the weight of your words.

he puts the phone down, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze soft but intense. he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, his lips curl into a small, knowing smirk.

“what do you mean?” his voice is low, almost like he’s testing the waters.

you swallow, feeling a tightness in your chest, and you try to make your words come out right. “i mean… we do all this stuff, simon. you call me yours, and i… i don’t even know where i stand. we’ve never really talked about what this is. are we… are we dating, or what?”

he blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words. it’s almost funny, how much you’ve thought about it, how much you’ve analyzed your every interaction, while simon has likely never questioned it. it’s simple to him. and that’s when it hits you—he’s never even considered that this could be anything other than what it is.

he sighs, a deep, exasperated sound, and leans back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. “what are you on about, woman? you’re my girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t quite process them. you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him right. it almost sounds like he’s stating a fact, like it’s something as simple as breathing. his voice is firm, unwavering, as if this was always meant to be the case.

you feel your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in, and then—just like that—all your worries melt away. you don’t even know why you were so worried in the first place. the uncertainty, the anxiety, it all seems so silly now. you’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all. simon is, as always, so simon about it. there’s no drama, no overthinking, no need for big conversations or declarations.

you’re his. you’re his girlfriend. and there’s no debate.

the relief hits first, followed closely by a mix of amusement and a small flash of annoyance. you try to hold back the grin tugging at your lips. “wait... just like that? no question, no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ just… you’re my girlfriend?”

he meets your gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “that’s right. you’re mine. no need for any of that nonsense. i’ve already decided.”

you stare at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. it’s the way he speaks, like he’s already certain, already claimed you. and it feels… good. reassuring, even. but also, just a little bit frustrating. because, honestly, how do you even argue with that?

“god, you’re impossible,” you mutter, a grin breaking through as you roll your eyes. “seriously. you’re so damn sure about everything.”

he just smirks back, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “you should be glad i am, sweetheart. now, come here.”

he pats his lap, and before you can protest, you’re already moving toward him, the tension from moments before completely gone. his arms pull you close, and you settle against him, feeling his familiar warmth. you don’t even need the words anymore. somehow, just being with him like this is enough.

and that, you realize, is exactly what simon’s always known.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.

Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.

But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.

So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.

Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.

"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.

His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.

You took a step toward him, silent.

He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.

You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."

He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.

"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"

"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."

"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."

You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.

"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."

He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.

His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"

"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."

He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."

But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."

"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."

You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.

"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."

His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.

Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.

"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"

You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.

You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.

You stared up at him, mind empty, until—

Smack.

His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.

"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."

You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—

But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.

"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"

"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”

Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.

"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.

Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.

“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"

"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"

"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"

His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.

"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"

"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"

"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."

"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."

He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.

"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"

You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.

"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"

He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.

"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."

Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."

A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"

"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"

"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"

You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—

"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"

He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"

"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"

"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."

Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.

"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"

"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."

You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.

He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.

"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."

The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.

"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."

"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."

"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."

You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.

"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."

The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.

"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."

Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.

"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."

"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."

"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"

"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"

Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.

"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.

His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.

"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"

"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"

"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"

The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“

His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.

"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"

Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.

It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.

"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."

Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.

"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"

Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.

"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."

His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.

"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."

The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.

You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.

"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”

He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.

You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.

Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—

"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."

"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"

The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.

And then—he was in.

"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"

He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.

"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."

It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"

A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.

"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"

You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.

His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—

"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"

His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."

Oh. That was what he meant.

"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"

"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."

It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.

"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"

You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.

"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."

He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.

Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“

Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.

"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"

“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”

"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"

You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.

And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.

The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.

And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.

“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.

“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”

Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.

“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—

You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”

His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.

“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.

“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”

[shawtuzi]

♱ FEELZ ft. choso kamo ♱

summary: after months of desperate searching, choso finally finds the perfect roommate! you cook, clean up after yourself, and best of all, you happen to be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. your only flaw? a gnawing bloodlust that increases tenfold whenever you’re around him because of his rare blood type.

wc: 18k cw include: sfw-roommates to lovers?? kinda??, mentions of reader killing people (she be hungry she’s just a girl!), mentions of blood, side character death, they’re so down bad for each other but for diff reasons, reader has a bit of an oral fixation, nsfw- lots of kissing, switch!choso, fondling, biting, a smidge of blood play, dry humping, oral f&m!receiving, SMIDGE of foot stuff, choso has an abnormally huge dick, riding, backshots, reader drinks choso’s blood during, marathon sex, abrupt ending IM SAWRYYYY I GOT TIRED >:(

‘ they say home is where the heart is, you’re the reason mine is beatin’. ’

“i’m sorry i had to schedule us meeting on such a crappy day, but i’m glad you were able to make it! what did you say your name was again?”

“y/n, my name is y/n. it’s very nice to meet you, choso.” you extended your manicured hand out to his, a small smile lifting at the corners of your lips. choso graciously enveloped your hand in his, giving it three slow shakes before awkwardly clasping his hands together.

he was handsome, intimidatingly handsome. the kind of handsome that would make you do a triple take if you ever saw him walking down the street. he was a big man. no shorter than six feet with broad shoulders to match. his eyelids were smudged with black liner, and right above the medium size scar on his nose was a bridge piercing. he had a few other piercings; a stud in his nose, snake bites, and if you paid close enough attention you could see a tongue ring.

as handsome as he was though, he had a sort of anxious aura surrounding him. he was nervous, but why?

“i don’t mind the rain, even when it gets like this. i like the smell that it leaves afterwards.” your eyes crinkled together in a smile which he returned happily.

it was silent for a few moments before choso finally spoke up. “sorry. i suppose you’re waiting for me to get the conversation going,” he chuckled breathily, resting his hands on the table. you hummed, giving him a curt nod while taking a sip of your tea.

“we’ve already gone over what’s in the apartment and rent, and all that other good stuff. what i really wanted to meet up to talk about was your boundaries, and other things you feel i should know about yourself.”

for such a big man he had the most gentle voice, and the kindest eyes as he spoke to you.

“well, i think we can both mutually agree on staying out of each others rooms, and toiletries. i take pride in being a good cook, so i don’t mind ever whipping you up something if you’re hungry. i’m good at picking up after myself, and you seem like the kinda guy who does the same so i don’t think that’ll be an issue. um, i would say i’m more on the introverted side, so you don’t have to worry about me having guests over.”

the more you spoke the more you could see choso visibly relax. you were saying all the right things, especially the part where you mentioned not having guests over. it’s not like choso didn’t have friends over from time to time, but my mans enjoyed the solitude of a quiet home very much.

“w-well that’s . . . that’s great! i know that’s like the bare minimum a person can ask for, but you have nooo idea what kinda nuts i’ve had to deal with.” he trailed off with a chuckle, and when you joined him in laughter he couldn’t notice how nice your smile was. you had the cutest little canines.

“i cook as well, but i wouldn’t say i’m the best, heh. i mostly work from home, so i’ll be home most of the day. i do have company over sometimes, but it’s just a couple of friends and my brother—if it would make you more comfortable i could try to let you know when they come over?”

sweet and thoughtful.

with a small shake of your head you said, “that won’t be necessary, but it’s very thoughtful that you’d offer. please continue.”

“ah, the only other thing is my gaming habit. i try to be quiet, but if i’m ever too loud please don’t hesitate to say something.” you couldn’t help but giggle. you didn’t take him for much of a gamer.

finally you bit the bullet and asked the question that’s been on your mind since he sat down. “have you ever roomed with a girl before?”

“ . . . ”

you could hear the way his heart picked up at your question. the faint blush on his cheeks was also a dead giveaway that he has, in fact, never shared a living space with a woman. “um, no. no i haven’t, b-but i promise i won’t be weird or anything like that. i’ll always respect you and your privacy, honest!”

the jangling of your gold bracelets caught choso’s attention as you rested your chin on your palm, a playful grin on your lips. “you’re real cute y’know that?”

this had choso smirking, the blush on his cheeks growing deeper. “yeah i’ve heard that once or twice. don’t let the looks fool you, i suck at talking to women no matter who it is,” he chuckled, eyes flitting to the rings on his fingers.

after a little more talk about your living situation, you and choso made some small talk. he told you a little about his job, and some stories about him and his brother when they were kids. you were pretty vague when it came to talking about your life, but choso didn’t seem to notice—mostly because you didn’t give him a chance to think before you were asking him another question about himself.

“it was so nice meeting you, y/n. i really look forward to being roommates. if you have any questions before your move-in day please feel free to reach out.” choso reached his hand out for yours, and to his surprise your hand was ice cold.

when his eyes flicked back up to yours, you had a look on your face he couldn’t quite decipher. you were smiling, but something just felt . . . off.

ah, he was all in his head again. you seemed like a nice girl, a normal girl. you had no criminal background as far as he knew, and after stalking what little socials you had, he didn’t get any kind of serial killer vibe.

you’d be the perfect roommate. you had to be!

“it was nice meeting you as well, choso! i’ll see you on the first.” and with that you parted ways.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

‘ breaking news ! another dead body was found in an alleyway by two citizens early this morning. the couple described the scene as ‘horrific’ and ‘nightmarish’. like the other four corpses previously found, the body was drained of all blood and was missing its head, arms, and its entire lower half. police are encouraging citizens to follow the ten p.m curfew, but there have been talks of enforcing this curfew rather than having it as a suggestion . . . ’

the tv clicked off, leaving nothing but a black screen. nanami let out a long sigh through his nose before slowly turning his head towards you. “are you being sloppy on purpose or are you just that dumb?”

you lips quirked up in a grin, “calm down. it’s not like they’re ever gonna figure it out who’s doing it all, and besides, a ten p.m curfew? in new york city? please. plus, i’ve decided to take a break for a little while, i’ve found a new roommate and i need to settle in.”

if looks could kill your heart would surely have a stake through it by the way nanami was looking at you. his usually handsome face was twisted into a deep frown, and if you weren’t scared of him quite literally breaking every bone in your body, you’d laugh at him.

nanami was an old friend of yours, but not really a friend at all. he was hired to watch over you by a very old, irritating, and invasive counsel that you despise with every fiber of your undead being. he’s simply there to make sure you didn’t draw any unwanted attention to your kind.

it’s not like you pranced around with your eyes crimson red, and fangs bared for all to see—you just had a problem controlling your bloodlust. hence why nanami was there. he’s been following you around the world for almost a century now, and he hasn’t changed the slightest bit. if anything he got more and more grumpy as the years went on. if he was physically able to age he’d be as shriveled as a raisin by now.

“i hope you’re at least being sensible about the lives you’re taking. some of these people have families to get back to,” nanami spoke lowly, taking a long sip of the bourbon in his glass. the comment had you rolling your eyes in annoyance.

“i can assure you no one will miss them. you should know by now i don’t go after innocents,” you all but growled, digging your nails into the leather of the couch you were sitting on.

“not everyone can live off diseased squirrels, and alley cats, or whatever the hell you eat to survive.” you muttered the snarky comment under your breath, but nanami heard every syllable.

he tongued the inside of his cheek, veiny hand coming up to loosen the tie around his neck. “this new roommate of yours . . . is anyone going to miss him when he turns up missing?”

“he won’t turn up missing because i don’t plan on killing him. he’s nice . . has some friends and a little brother. seems a little ditzy too so i don’t think he’ll catch onto anything, but at this point, anywhere is better than sharing a place a with you.”

ever since you settled on staying in new york, nanami took it upon himself to find an apartment for you. it was a beautiful place to say the least, but the catch was he was staying there with you. that was always the catch, but this time around you were fed up with the blondes meddling more than usual. you had to get outta there.

“i hope you know that just because you’re leaving that doesn’t mean i won’t be keeping an even closer eye on you,” he muttered, setting the glass beside him. unfortunately you were already fully aware that no matter where you hid in the ginormous city, or in the world honestly, nanami would always be on your coattails.

the thought of trying to kill him doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. every attempt you’ve ever made on his life ended horribly . . . for you. the last time you tried to kill the blonde he ended up breaking both of your kneecaps with a single, swift kick, and that was the end of that. you couldn’t cause any physical harm so verbal attacks would have to do.

“like i could ever forget. now please be useful for once and help me pack the rest of my things.” you sounded like a spoiled child. it annoyed kento to his core. sixty years of following you around, and you haven’t changed a single bit.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

when you arrived at your new apartment the sun was just about to fully set, the pink and orange swirls in the sky now fading to night. the sun wasn’t your total enemy. it wasn’t like you disintegrated into dust the second a ray of sunshine hit your skin, but it was still rather bothersome and you tried to avoid it if possible.

choso was waiting for you by the entrance of the building with his hand lifted in a wave, and a sweet smile on his lips. sure, he thought it was a little odd you wanted to move the rest of your things in when it was dark out, but he didn’t care to question it.

your headboard and mattress had already been brought earlier in the day along with two of your dressers, and the nicest vanity he’s ever seen. the apartment itself was a slight downgrade from your previous place, but like you had stated before: anywhere is better than sharing a space with kento.

all you had with you were clothes. lots and lots of clothes. so many clothes that it had choso’s eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

“it looks like a lot but i think we can knock this out in a half hour, forty five minutes tops!” you wrapped an arm around his muscly bicep, biting back a giggle as he examined the moving truck full of boxes and racks of clothes. choso let out a low chuckle, hand awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

“is there any particular reason why you have so many clothes?” he hummed, tilting his head to you. he couldn’t deny the tingle that shot down his spine when you batted your lashes at him. “ummm, all of this is vintage, designer, or vintage designer. i had to bring all of it with me. now c’mon!”

the entire thing took a little over an hour, and it would’ve gone by faster if you used a little of your inhuman strength and speed, but watching choso’s muscles strain as he carried each box was far more enjoyable. hearing the little grunts and groans he made was even better.

“you barely even broke a sweat! you’re so strong, choso,” you giggled, lazily swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him set the final boxes down. choso preened at the praise, a dopey smile forming on his lips. he wiped a bead of sweat from his temple before speaking, “ah, it’s nothin’. my friends convinced me to start going to the gym with them a couple months ago, and i guess the results have been pretty nice.”

you could’ve rolled your eyes when he said the words ‘pretty nice.’ he was one of the most jacked men you’ve ever seen, yet he was describing the results as decent. why downplay himself?

you couldn’t wait to pick this boys brain apart.

his ears perked up when he heard you pat the soft cushion of the couch. “come sit with me, cho.”

he blinked a few times before slowly making his way over to you. when he sat on the furthest end of the couch your lips lifted into a playful smirk. “you don’t have to sit so far y’know, i don’t bite.” well, at least for now.

“i know, i just—i don’t know,” he chuckled, glancing over at you before flitting his eyes to the chunky rings on his fingers.

‘come onnnn. start some conversation, don’t be weird!’ he screamed at himself in his head, afraid that this comfortable silence will soon turn into an uncomfortable one.

you could see the struggle on the his face, hear the way his heartbeat picked up as he tried to think of something, anything to say.

“did those hurt?” you spoke softly, poking a finger to your lip. his tongue slowly swiped over his snake bites, brows raising in question to see if that’s what were were referring to. you let out a small, barely audible hum and nodded your head.

“eh, kinda. i’d rate if a six and a half on the pain scale. my most painful piercing was definitely my—oh, um, well i don’t know if i should show you—unless you wanna see! t-then i can totally show you—”

everything happened so quick. one minute you were sitting on the opposite end of the couch, then suddenly you were so close to choso that your thighs were smushed together. his mouth dropped open the tiniest bit when you cupped his cheeks, bringing his face close to yours. your hands were cold, but your touch was as delicate as ever.

“calm down. you sound like you’re about to have a stroke,” you giggled, releasing your hold on him. choso let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in and silently nodded. without another word being said he lifted up his t-shirt, revealing a singular piercing on his left nipple.

your eyes widened, a grin forming on your glossy lips. you leant in close, so close it had choso making a noise of surprise. “why just the one?” you giggled, trailing your eyes from his chest to those pretty, doe eyes of his.

“the plan was to get both done, but i pussied out after the guy did this one. the pain was just too much, which is funny considering i’ve had my ribs tatted—now that is real pain right there! see?” two of his fingers slowly trailed down the tattoo on the left side of his ribs. your eyes widened the size of saucers when you realized the tattoo was of icarus.

“are you—do you happen to be into greek mythology?” when you nodded ‘yes’ choso matched your giddy smile, his eyes brightening in a way that was just too cute. “when i was younger i thought it was sooo cool, a-and i still do! hence why i got a tattoo of icarus. i know there’s more interesting stories, but his really stuck with me. i guess i can relate to pushing myself past my limits, physical or mental . . . ”

you came to a conclusion that night that you liked hearing choso talk about literally anything. you liked how soft spoken he was, and how he stumbled over his words. you adored hearing the way his tone changed and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about things he was passionate about or liked.

you told him a little about yourself, and it was nice to see the way he hung onto every word you said. the way his eyes lit up when you delved a little into your personal life. he was a good listener, you liked that.

it was true shame that even after all the great impressions he’s made in only a few hours—you still wanted to yank him back by those pretty, brown locs and sink your teeth into his neck.

his scent was enough to have you drooling, and if you hadn’t of indulged in a man the previous night, you surely would be now. it was a sweet scent, like those expensive chocolates you only bust out for special occasions. you’ve only smelt such a thing one other time, but that would mean . . . oh.

he had a rare blood type; o-negative to be exact. the rarest blood type in the world with only six million people worldwide to have it—and here you were with a walking blood bank of it. now you really had reason not to kill him.

you could end his life, indulge in him now, and get your fill, but then what? this was something you had to nurture, something you had to savor.

“y/n? you alright? i lost ya for a second there,” he grinned, cocking his head slightly to the side like a confused puppy.

“hm? oh yes i’m fine. just thinkin’ about all the unpacking i have to do.”

“w-well i could help you if you want? i’d love to see your clothes if they’re all vintage. that kinda stuff is real neat to me.” your silence to the question worried him, but when he heard you say yes his eyes lit up.

your wardrobe was far more impressive than he could’ve ever imagined. from dresses, to handbags, to jewelry—you had it all, and you took pride in it. happiness isn’t guaranteed for all of eternity, but stylish clothing certainly is.

“isn’t this shawl beautifu? look at the detail on it,” you spoke lowly, holding the article of clothing out for choso to see. with a shaky hand, choso delicately ran two fingers over the lacy material of the shawl. “its from vivienne westwoods nineteen-ninety five spring collection. the naomi campbell wore this same one on the runway.”

now choso didn’t know much about fashion, but by the way your eyes lit up at the article of clothing, it had to have been something real special.

choso plopped down on your freshly made bed and propped himself up on his elbows. “how on earth did you get your hands on that?”

your lips parted in a small laugh. “you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that. just know i have my ways.”

he didn’t need to know that you were there in person to see naomi campbell walk down the aisle with said shawl, and he certainly didn’t need to know the troublesome lengths you had to go thought to get it.

“oh shit, it’s past midnight. i should probably head to bed,” choso groaned, reaching his arms over his head to stretch. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ogle his flexing muscles as he did so.

“mm, well goodnight, choso. thank you for helping me unpack my stuff. sweet dreams!”

he gave you a sweet smile and made his way to exit your room. as he passed you got a strong whiff of the sweet, mouthwatering scent that was him. you had to physically restrain yourself by digging your nails into your palm so hard they bled—otherwise you would’ve tackled him like a linebacker just to get a little taste.

not today, y/n. not today.

when choso dozed off he could hear little rustles from your room, and when he woke up the next morning he could hear noises from the kitchen. the sun was barely peeking through, and you were already up? whew, and he thought he was an early bird.

still very much groggy with sleep, choso exited his room and was met with the sight of you in the kitchen, whipping up some kind of breakfast while you hummed a quiet tune.

* yawn* “good morning, y/n.”

“good morning, chos—oh! um . . . cho?”

“hm?”

“any particular reason you only got boxers on right now? not that i’m complaining or nothin’,” you giggled, whipping back around to focus on the breakfast you were making. as you finished your sentence all the sleepiness in choso’s body vanished, and was quickly replaced with embarrassment?? shame?? both??

all you can say is you’ve never heard a grown ass man shriek.

you heard loud footsteps and the sound of a door slam. you perked your ears up a little bit more to hear him and he did not disappoint. little whines and whimpers of embarrassment slipped past his lips left and right.

‘idiot! she probably thinks i’m a huge perv!’ you heard him whine in shame, and sickly enough, it brought a smile to your lips. sure, you felt bad that he was so embarrassed from exposure, but ugh! he was just too cute!

even with the numerous tattoos and piercings, choso gave you severe cuteness aggression, and when you paired it with that marshmallowly, caramel scent he had, it made you wanna kiss his cheeks and rip his throat out with your teeth at the same time.

ugh. you needed to feed, and soon. you could already feel your humanity slipping, and that wasn’t good for anyone.

your thoughts were broken by the smell of burning french toast. “ah, shit.” your nose scrunched in annoyance as you scraped the now burnt french toast off the pan.

“i’m sooo sorry about that. i-it’s been a while since i’ve had another person here, a-and i smelt food—not that that’s an excuse of course. i just—i’m sorry.” he was talking so fast you barely understood a word he said, and you feared if you asked him to repeat himself he’d explode into pieces.

you hummed out a small laugh and set a plate of french toast and eggs on the small glass table in front of him. “it’s okay, cho. we’re both adults, stuff happens. it’s all good, now eat!” he silently stared at you for two beats before slowly pulling out a chair and sitting.

the petrified look on his face was wiped off and replaced with a small smile. “this looks delicious, thank you.” you bowed your head slightly in a silent thank you and took a seat right next to him. human food did little to appease your appetite, but it did curb your cravings a tad, hence why you decided to pick at your own piece of french toast.

“have any dreams?” you asked, licking a dribble of syrup off your fork. choso nearly choked on his eggs at the action, quickly gulping down some juice to ease the burning in his throat. “n-nah, none in particular really stand out. y-you?” you giggled and shook your head. “i don’t dream very much. i guess my thoughts are too loud or something.”

you both maintained small talk while choso demolished his breakfast, and while you talked he only made direct eye contact about a handful of times.

choso was already bad with girls, but you made him completely beside himself. you had him stumbling over damn near every word he said, your precious laugh set the apples of his cheeks ablaze every time he heard it, and worst of all he hasn’t stopped looking at your boobs since you sat at the table!

you were wearing a pink, lacy nightgown with a robe to match, and every time you leant forward even an inch, your breasts were spilling out more.

“you want some more, cho? there’s plenty left.”

choso blinked. hard.

“um, no no that’s okay. i should probably freshen up . . . get ready for work and s-such, but thank you! thank you so much for breakfast, you’re the best!” the sound of his chair scooting back was deafening. he couldn’t believe how fucking awkward he was being right now.

“mm, suit yourself. i’ll be tidying up in here if you need anything!” the smile you gave him was the same one you had given him at the coffee shop where you first met. it looked sincere, yet it sent a shiver up his back. it honestly looked like you wanted to devour him whole.

while you loaded the dishes into the dishwasher you couldn’t help but, once again, let your mind wander to choso’s impressive physique. he was so big. you just wanted to sink your teeth into every muscle on his body. you certainly didn’t miss the massive bulge in boxers either—

“o-oh!”

you nearly dropped the plate you were holding, your brain going into complete overdrive at the smell of blood.

“ah, shit. stupid fuckin’ razor . . . ”

so he cut himself with a razor. that’s unfortunate. maybe you could help him tend to it. maybe he’d even let you smell the blood soaked tissue he dabbed it with. your mouth watered, a thin line of drool dribbling from your lips and onto the porcelain plate you were holding with an iron grip.

“i need—i n-need to get out of here,” you whispered to yourself, damn near tossing the plate in the dishwasher. if you didn’t step out now you would surely hurt choso, and that was last thing you needed to deal with when you’ve only been there one night.

the sound of a door slamming caught choso’s attention, and when he walked out to see what the commotion was, he found nothing. nothing except a little note on the counter.

had to run out and do a few things. i’ll be back soon.

— y/n

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

your fingers twitched around the icy glass in your hands, the feeling of hunger draping over you more and more by the second. he should be here any minute.

your ears perked up at someone entering the bar, and surely enough there he was; toji fushiguro, aka your next target. you’ve done some research on the man, and he was more than perfect for the job.

he killed people for a living. it didn’t matter if it was a man or woman, old or young—if you paid him enough he’d do it. on top of that he also had a reputation as a sleazy pig, someone who thought more with his dick than his brain if it wasn’t work related.

he was big, intimidatingly big, but nothing you couldn’t handle. in fact you were hoping he struggled, you liked a challenge.

“now what’s a pretty thing like you doing a shithole like this?” his voice was like nails on a chalkboard to your ears, but nonetheless, you forced a smile and slowly turned your stool towards him. you almost wanted to roll your eyes when you saw an unlit cigarette dangling from between his smirking lips.

you let out a dramatic sigh and batted your lashes extra hard. “well, i got into a nasty argument with my boyfriend while we were having lunch and i ended up getting so mad i stormed off! i left the restaurant and just kept on walking until i ended up here.”

the reality actually was: you waited in a cafe until this dingy bar opened at ten a.m. and then waited even longer in this uncomfortable ass bar stool until he showed up. he was a regular at this bar. according to other patrons, if he wasn’t there he was either out on a job or dead because he never went home.

as far as you knew, he had no friends, no living relatives, and more reasons to be hated than you could count on your fingers.

“well that’s an awful shame darlin’. how ‘bout you buy us a round of drinks and tell me alllll about it.” before you knew it, his side was pushed up against yours, his large arm now wrapped around your shoulders. the smell of whatever cologne he had on had your nostrils burning.

you let out a small, fake laugh and whipped out a wad of cash. “order whatever you like,” you grinned, slamming the money down so hard you could’ve sworn he flinched.

it wasn’t until four drinks later that toji’s words started to slur, and he was a tad more touchy than when he first approached you. you were feeling borderline feral at this point, the last of your humanity slipping through your fingers due to a fight between two patrons that happened minutes before.

the metallic smell of blood lingered throughout the air. it was so strong you could practically taste it.

“you alright, sweet thing? shakin’ like a leaf over there,” he chuckled, slithering his hand around your waist to give it a squeeze. his eyebrows raised slightly when you turnt your head towards him. “um . . . have your, um, have your eyes always looked like that? maybe i’m a little too tipsy but they look red.”

without saying a word you grasped his bigger hand in your own. “come with me,” you muttered, hopping off the barstool. a wave of shock washed over toji’s face at the amount of strength you used to pull him off his own stool. “heh, you’re pretty strong, cutie.”

when he realized you were taking him into an alleyway, his lips pulled into a sleazy smirk. “what’re you tryna do, little lady?” he chuckled, teeth catching onto his bottom lip when you pushed him into a near brick wall.

“i am just so, so hungry,” your voice was hushed, now two octaves deeper. you pressed your nose against the pulse point in his neck, inhaling until you felt dizzy. your fangs were practically throbbing against your gums. you needed to bite into something, anything!

your tongue lolled out, sloppily rolling itself around the expanse of his neck. you nearly hissed at the man when he cupped your jaw in his hands. “are you—? heh, are you droolin’?”

you let out a small giggle, giving him a toothy grin. you took multiple mental pictures of the look on his face. it wasn’t exactly a face of horror, but you could see the fear in his eyes.

without thinking he pushed you to the ground, his back now firmly pressed against the wall. “the fuck . . . the fuck? is this some kinda prank? the fuck is wrong with your face?”

when you attempted to get up you were met with the sound of a gun clicking. you peered at him over your lashes, your nose crinkling in a laugh.

“i’ve heard of you guys, but i thought it was all just rumors. fuckin’ nightwalkers. tell me why i shouldn’t put a bullet through your head right now.”

it all happened so fast. one minute you were on the ground and the next you were gone. toji’s head whipped left, then right. you completely vanished before his eyes.

“you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me—oof!”

toji had somehow been flipped to his back, his head knocking against the gravel below him. when he tried to get up, he was stopped by a heel pressing snugly against his chest.

“i hope you’re not looking for this,” you dryly chuckled, tucking the weapon in your purse. you made a mental note to dispose of it later—guns were little to no use for someone such as yourself.

“why’re you doing this, hm? the fuck you want from me?” his teeth grit together when you pushed your heel deeper into his chest. toji was fucked. undeniably, incredibly fucked. he could run, but you’d catch him. he could try to take you down at hand-to-hand combat, but he knows you’d break every bone in his body before he even threw a punch.

he knew karma would catch up with his ass one day, but damn! did it have to happen right when he just got done with a job? at least he was decently buzzed.

“you’re a very bad man, mr. fushiguro. you’re wanted for murder, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon—gosh, i mean the list goes on! i’m sure the world will be a much better place with you off the streets. not to mention you made me get my skirt dirty. that’s enough reason for me to rip your head off.”

you slowly took your heel off his chest, and to your surprise he stayed put, not daring to move an inch. toji let out a deep sigh through his nose. “well, if i’m gonna die, at least it’s at the hands of a very, very gorgeous lady such as yourself.”

your head tilted to the side, a bashful smile tugging at your lips. “tch, you’re too sweet, honestly.” you knelt down beside him and tilted his chin up. the sound of his heart thumping in his chest had your head pounding.

“i’ll try to make this as painless as possible, mr. fushiguro.”

‘ breaking news ! yet another body his been discovered this evening by patrons leaving a nearby bar. the police have identified the body as toji fushiguro; a known criminal around the city of new york. patrons at the bar say they saw mr. fushiguro leave with a woman, but a description has yet to be released. when police found mr. fushiguro it appeared that he had been attacked by an animal due to the multiple bite wounds around his body, so this mystery woman may not be our suspect, but due to the lack of security cameras inside the bar it is unlikely this woman will be found. ’

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

choso had a problem. a very big problem. after almost six months of living together, he’s developed the corniest, most lovesick puppy crush on you. what could he say? you were perfect in every way imaginable. you were a little bit of a mystery to him, but that only added on to the crush even more!

he loved being in your presence, the floral scent that you left behind every time you crossed paths. he loved your home cooked meals, and the random desserts you’d bake just because you were bored. he loved that you both had so much in common—from tv shows, to movies, to music!

all these amazing things, and more had choso falling head over heels for you, but because of the roommate code he swore upon himself, he never once made a move. the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, so he kept those feelings bottled up, but as the days went on it became harder and harder to not show his attraction to you. especially during your weekly movie nights.

“sooo what’d you pick for us tonight, cho?” you asked once he took a seat on the couch. you pouted at the distance, wasting no time crawling towards him until there was less than an inch of space between your bodies.

“from dusk till dawn.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and this caught choso’s attention. “what, you don’t like that movie? it’s a classic!” he chuckled, taking a sip of the juice he was nursing.

you grinned at him, cocking your head to side as you batted your lashes. “i’ve actually never seen it, all i know is that it’s a vampire movie.” choso was absolutely gobsmacked at this information.

“well now we have to watch it!”

even though vampire movies weren’t your favorite, you decided to watch it anyway, but only if choso held you the entire time. that was your one condition.

so that’s how you ended up tucked snugly into his chest while his arms were weakly draped over your lower back. he wanted to be normal about this, but how could he?! especially when you had on the most tempting set of lacy pajamas.

“you’re so warm, choso . . . smell really nice too,” you hummed, nuzzling your nose into his chest to get a stronger whiff of him. he smelt so sweet you could practically feel your tooth aching from it. “t-thanks y/n. you smell nice too, like, like flowers.”

“mhm, it’s peonies. i’ve been using a new body wash, thank you for noticing.” you shuffled the tiniest bit, making your top ride up and expose your lower back.

choso’s hand twitched. god, he wanted to touch you, feel how soft your skin was.

“mm, hold me tighter. you feel so loose,” he heard you whisper below him, and with a deep exhale he pulled your body closer to his, his hand now splayed across your bare, lower back.

fuck, he was right. your skin was in fact as soft as the peonies you smelt of.

he squeezed your side gently, and you hummed, lashes fluttering at the action. “that feels nice . . . rub my back? please?”

“s-sure. let me know if i’m getting too low or far up . . . ‘kay?” you let out a small hum and nodded, fixating your eyes on the movie. you weren’t really paying attention, more so relishing in how soft choso’s hands felt against your cool skin.

it wasn’t even five minutes later when choso really started to notice how close you were to him. your chest was pressed so tightly against his it was driving him mad! your tits felt so soft, even through his shirt and your top. he couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as the rest of you—oh god he cannot pop a boner right now, not here!

“um, y/n.”

“mhm?”

“do you—do you want some wine? i could really use some wine, how about you get up for a sec—”

a squeak flew past your lips when choso abruptly sat up, taking you up with him. your hands flew to his shoulders out of instinct, and somehow, this put choso in an even more fucked up situation. you were sitting right on his dick, and if you didn’t notice it was hard then, you definitely did now.

your face was blank for a moment and then you smiled at him. “i’d love some wine, thank you.”

you knew he was sporting a boner before choso himself even knew. you could practically hear the blood rushing to his dick, the way his heart rammed against his ribcage. it brought sense of pride in your chest that you didn’t even know existed.

you slowly maneuvered yourself off his lap, and to choso’s surprise you acted completely normal, reaching over to pause the movie as if either of you were actually paying attention. as if he wasn’t scrambling to get some wine to draw your attention away from his semi.

even after this shameful moment, his dick was still hard and getting harder by the second. so while he shakily poured two glasses of wine, he also made quick work to adjust himself, though it did little to hide anything.

he could call it a night, and hide in his room forever, but that might hurt your feelings. choso would rather get jumped than ever hurt your feelings. he just had to think of something to make it go down, but what? you were the only thing plaguing his mind.

he tried to think of the most disgusting things possible, and even tried coming up with mental pictures that would have him gagging, but nothing worked. caught up in all the commotion in his head, choso hadn’t realized how loose he was holding onto the wine glasses before one of them slipped from his hand and onto the ground.

you jumped, head whipping to the side with furrowed brows. “everything okay in there, cho?”

choso was borderline panicking at this point, not even thinking about the shards of glass slicing at his fingertips as he picked them up.

your nose twitched. there went that smell again.

you should leave. go somewhere far away before you do something you regret . . . but then that would mean leaving choso. what if he was hurt? what he if couldn’t give himself proper care?

despite the numerous voices in your head shouting at you to leave him be, you got up and slowly made your way to the kitchen. choso could hear your sock clad feet padding against the hardwood floor and straightened his posture, his eyes not even daring to look at the mess in his hands.

“your . . . ” you took a final step forward, not daring to move another inch, “your hands. they’re bleeding.”

choso’s eyes flitted to his crimson hands, then back to yours. your hand was covering the entire lower half of your face, almost as if you had smelt something foul. your body was practically vibrating from how much you wanted to pounce on him.

his eyes widened. “i’m—i’m sorry. i was making the drinks and they just—are you okay? do you get queasy around blood? i’m so sorry—”

choso was utterly embarrassed. this was certainly one way to kill a boner.

“it’s okay. it’s okay, let me see.” your words were muffled due to you speaking over your hand. choso took a step forward, and it almost looked like you wanted to take a step back, but you stayed put, slowly moving your hand away from your face as he got closer.

you could feel saliva pooling on your tongue as you took a short inhale. “o-oh, choso. why would you pick up glass with your bare hands?” your tone had sounded more aggressive than you intended, but hey, it was better than the other things you had in mind.

choso gnawed on his bottom lip. “because . . . because you make me nervous. i’m sure you saw my, um, problem, thank you for not saying anything by the way,” while he was explaining himself it was like he was speaking through you, his eyes avoiding yours as much as possible. you nodded slowly, your nostrils flaring as your lungs burned for air.

“i just—i just wanted to get rid of it before i made an even bigger fool of myself, but you see how that went.” before he spoke again you shushed him.

“it’s fine. just follow me to the bathroom so i can pick this glass out. i have a pair of tweezers.” he nodded dumbly like a lost puppy, and silently followed you with a frown etched onto his lips.

“you know you don’t have to help me—”

“please shush. just sit so i can help you, i don’t mind a bit, cho.” you hated that your tone was so snippy with him, but you weren’t sure how much longer your humanity would stay intact.

choso’s frown deepened, but he sat on the toilet seat cover regardless, gently laying his hands on the porcelain sink palms up. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i completely crossed a boundary i shouldn’t have, i mean, we’ve been getting along so well these past five months, and i know we get physical sometimes, but i shouldn’t have . . . gotten an, erm, erection.”

it was silent. not even a breath could be heard from either of you. why were you being so calm? why were you helping him? he figured any other girl would be livid . . . unless you felt the same.

he watched you shuffle around the bathroom as you looked for your tweezers until you finally found them. the sight before you would probably send shivers down anyone’s spine from the amount of blood, but it left you starving. you hesitated twice to grab his hand, and with a shudder you finally grasped it.

“o-okay let’s do this,” you sighed, making quick, but swift work to remove the tiny shards of glass. you were honestly very proud of yourself for making it this far.

choso hissed when you pulled out a particularly long piece, his brows furrowing in discomfort. you could hear his heart thrumming in his chest, it was beginning to hurt your head.

“i’m not upset or creeped out that you got hard, cho. i felt it before you even got up. if i was uncomfortable i would’ve let you know, but i wasn’t, i was just waiting for you to make a move . . . but then you cut your—your hands.” you swallowed thickly, nostrils flaring as you pulled out the final piece of glass.

choso let out a deep sigh, brown locs covering his eyes when his head tilted downward. “i’m at idiot, an injured idiot at that.”

your lips parted in a breathy laugh, “you’re not an idiot, you’re sweet. now sit tight so i can disinfect it.”

it physically pained you to wash his blood off your hands. you wanted to shed a tear watching the crimson liquid swirl down the drain, but you had to be sanitary about this!

you couldn’t help but think of nanami, and how proud he would be if he could see you tending to a humans wounds rather than indulging on them.

“this is probably gonna hurt . . . like a lot.” you warned looking into his eyes for consent to continue. he hesitantly nodded, tongue poking out to toy with his lip piercing.

you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past when your lips when choso cursed rather loudly at the stinging sensation from the alcohol. he was a trooper for sure, hands not moving an inch, even as you dabbed more alcohol on the cuts.

“t-thank you for doing this. fuck, there’s no w-way i could’ve done this myself with somehow getting injured more.” his voice was shaky as he spoke, but there a small smile etched onto his lips.

you breathed out a small laugh, wiping the cuts clean before beginning to bandage them. “i’m glad i was able to help. now please be more careful! next time you drop some glass just sweep it up!”

“y-yes ma’am, i promise.”

when you finished putting the alcohol and bandages away, you were shocked to feel choso pull you close by the backs of your thighs.

“choso! watch your hands, you just got them bandaged up,” you giggled, resting your hands on his shoulders for balance. he smiled at you, pulling you closer until your body was pressed against his chest. you were so close your faces were nearly touching, the scent of your body wash wafting into his nose once more.

kiss her. kiss her. kiss her.

“are you trying to kiss me, cho?”

choso swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing. “mhm.”

your lips lifted into a toothy grin, and for the first time decades you actually felt butterflies in your tummy. “c’mere then.”

when choso pressed his lips against yours it was soft, so soft you barely felt anything. you kissed him back harder, and that elicited a small sound from the back of his throat.

you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. it was so dangerous for him and he didn’t even know it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away. you don’t think you could even if you wanted to. each time you moved away, even slightly, choso was chasing your lips eagerly.

“d-don’t pull away. please, jus’ stay right here,” he sighed, gently cupping the back of your neck to keep you in place. your whimpered, lips parting to allow him to him to slip his tongue in your mouth. his hands throbbed in pain, but he knew he’d be the biggest idiot to ever walk the planet if he stopped this.

the kiss was getting more and more heated, and choso was getting touchier by the minute. it sucked he couldn’t feel all of you due to the bandages, but hey, this was better than not being able to feel you up at all.

“we—we should probably stop. you’re probably in—ngh, in pain.” your lashes fluttered shut when choso’s puffy lips began smearing kisses all over your neck and throat, desperation and need laced in each kiss.

he felt a hand wrap around his throat, followed by a small push, but he was resistant. the pulse point in his neck thrummed underneath your finger tips. god, you just wanted a little taste.

“i don’t mind bein’ in a little pain, i just want you.” his arms wrapped possessively around your waist, “you’re always so cold, y/n. lemme warm you up.”

his kisses were addicting. every time you wanted to pull away and put some distance, you found yourself going back in for more. your mind was beginning to fog, and he just kept pulling you further and further in.

“your heartbeat is so loud,” you whimpered into the kiss, manicured fingers tugging at his hair. choso hissed, too drunk on your kisses to even process what you had said.

he noticed your kisses were becoming hungrier, more aggressive. the little nibbles you gave his bottom lip now turning into full on biting. he breathlessly chuckled, “c-careful. you’re gonna—mmph, make my lip bleed.”

“i know.”

and then there it was. it was sweeter than you imagined, gliding onto your tastebuds like the finest honey. choso’s blood tasted divine, just as you thought.

you gasped, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. choso was caught a little off guard, and he didn’t know if it was because his dick was hard or that fact you made anything attractive, but he was into it. his eyes rolled back, and if you didn’t have such a sturdy grip on his shoulders his head surely would’ve knocked against the wall.

you were entirely too far gone now, so what happened next came as a shock to choso and yourself.

“o-ow . . . y-y/n?”

choso was holding onto your side with an iron grip, paralyzed in fear. your lips were no longer his, now on his neck along with your fangs. you let out an apologetic whine, and slowly removed yourself from the coziness of his neck.

you backed up into the wall, hard. your chest was heaving, the air around you seeming to not get in your lungs fast enough. choso’s lips parted, but before he could even let out a puff of air you were right back in front of him, your hand covering his mouth roughly.

he let out a weak noise, fear pooling in his, usually bright, purple eyes. your eyes softened, but you weren’t sure it was doing you any good.

your teeth were coated in blood, his blood, some dribbling from your wobbling bottom lip and onto your chest.

“that wasn’t supposed to happen. i’m—i’m so sorry, choso. that wasn’t—shit. i-i’m so sorry, oh my gosh, look at your neck.” you hated that you did this to him, and during such an intimate moment.

a beat passed, and then another. choso’s rapid breathing had calmed a bit, but he was still shaking like a leaf.

“if i move my hand will you promise not to freak? we can talk about this, i promise—i swear, i won’t hurt you.”

choso blinked slowly, his eyes trailing to the blood staining your lips, then back to your eyes. he slowly nodded, and with zero hesitation you removed your hand from his mouth.

“i don’t—i don’t even know what to say. you’re not gonna kill me are you? i-i promise i won’t tell anyone.”

“no, no, no! i won’t hurt you, i never wanted to hurt you. it’s just my urges—they get so strong, especially when i’m not in my right mind. even n-now . . . i wanna hurt you, but there’s something inside thats keeping me from doing it, and—and i’m thankful.”

you reached your hands out to him, but he flinched away, cowering like a kitten until you cupped his cheeks. “i wish i could revert to how i looked before, but i’m stuck looking like this until i feed.”

feed.

he was so confused as to why you were speaking about yourself as if you were an animal. what even were you exactly? you couldn’t possible be a fucking vampire—those things didn’t exist! they were a myth!

you were so soft and sweet, there’s no way you could possibly be something murderous as a vampire.

“i know this is crazy, but just breathe and bare with me okay? you’re probably trying to convince yourself this isn’t real, but it is. it’s okay though! i’m not gonna hurt you, i just—ugh, i don’t know what to do! i’ve never bitten someone and let them live before.”

your lips were turned into a pout, but it was quickly wiped away when you saw the horror on choso’s face. a thought crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to believe it. before he knew it words were spilling past his lips, “do you know anything about those murders that have been happening?”

you wanted to shrink into a ball of nothingness. choso’s lips parted, then shut.

“i . . . i have no choice, cho! i need to feed so i can live, a-and the men i did kill were all bad people! i don’t kill innocents—people like you, people who have friends and families waiting for them at home. *sniffle* i-i promise i’m not the cold blooded killer you think i am.”

you were, actually, maybe even worse, but you’ve changed, and it was all thanks to choso! you’ve only met a handful of decent men in your life, and choso put them all to shame. he was so precious . . . so caring, loving, and naturally apologetic. you just wanted to put him in your miniskirt pocket and carry him around the world with you.

he didn’t say anything so you kept speaking, “these urges . . . they—they get so bad. it’s like my entire body is having a migraine. i’m in so much pain when i thirst, and i’ve almost hurt you before but—b-but i always left because i would rather get stabbed through the heart than ever hurt you, cho. i like you so much, i would never let anything bad happen to you.”

you hated that you were crying, showing him a weakness that no one, not even nanami has seen, but you couldn’t help it! if he turned you away, or god forbid told someone about you, that would mean you’d have to do the unthinkable, and that was the last thing wanted to do.

“you . . . you like me?”

you were slightly taken aback by the question, due to the other, more serious things you had said, but nonetheless you shook your head yes.

your brows raised when he stood up, towering over you like he was about to do something. your hands clenched into fists, prepared for whatever was about to happen.

a shaky gasp left your trembling lips when he cupped your face, thumbs brushing along the apples of your cheeks. “i’m so sorry you have to live like this, y/n,” he spoke lowly, a deep frown settling on his kiss bitten lips.

ugh, what an empath he was.

his eyes trailed to the fangs in your mouth. they were . . . cute. his thumb went down to brush over one, but you stopped him. “careful. you might cut yourself, and that’ll lead to more . . . you know.”

choso’s lip poked out, almost in a pout. with caution he swiped his thumb slowly over the sharp canine, and sure enough he felt a dull stinging sensation. you tried to back up, but he kept you in place.

“choso—seriously, you could get hurt, and i wouldn’t forgive myself. just please let me go so i can find someone else to feed on—”

“no.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, “no? what do you mean no? i-i have to or—”

“feed off of me, y/n.”

you scoffed, giving choso’s chest a forceful shove. you were able to put some distance, but he was quick to close it, backing you up into the wall until your bodies were only centimeters apart.

“no. fucking. way. back up right now, i’m not doing that.” choso didn’t move an inch, in fact he got closer, so close his front was now touching yours.

“if you move another inch, i’m gonna push you. hard.”

a shiver ran down his spine at the threat, but it wasn’t a fearful one. fuckin’ perv.

“ . . . well—well, push me then. go ahead, y/n.”

when you didn’t move a muscle he sighed. “why won’t you let me help you? you don’t want to hurt anyone, right?” you let out a small sniffle, your head bowing in a nod.

“then let me help you, please—”

“it’s—it’s more complicated than that! even if you did let me, what next? i can’t do it forever, you and i both know that, so then what? and your blood type, it—it’s the rarest one out there, only a handful of people in the world have it. it’s too risky, i don’t know if i’ll be able to stop myself.”

he didn’t say anything.

“aren’t you scared?”

his eyes flit the ground, tongue poking out to toy with his lip piercing. “yes, a little, maybe a lot, but i wanna help you, y/n. i don’t know what we’ll do after tonight, but—but we’ll figure it out! i-i still like you, fangs and all.”

you let out a small laugh through your nose, your arms crossing over your chest. “no you don’t . . . you’re probably just in shock, and not thinking clearly.”

“i think i’m okay with that.”

you gave him a confused look, and without warning choso pulled you close, tucking your face in his neck rather roughly. his large hand cradled the back of your head, holding you in place.

“i won’t tell anyone your secret, i promise. you’re always doing things for me, let me do something for you.” his tone was gentle, every word being whispered directly into your ear.

your nose twitched, the metallic smell of blood flooding your senses. your lips parted, then shut.

“o-oh!”

choso blinked rapidly, his hands pushing against the porcelain sink you had pushed him into. he let out a small laugh, “damn, you are strong.”

you didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. “if we’re gonna do this . . . there is a way i can make this easier for you, less painful i guess.”

his eyebrows raised in question.

you let out a puff of air through your cheeks. “my fangs produce a sort of, um, venom? i guess you could call it that. its supposed to numb the bitten area, or something like that. i’ve only done it a few times—it makes my gums hurt afterwards so i don’t do it often.”

a beat of silence passed.

“i guess i’ll, um, do it from your neck since there’s already a mark. again, so sorry about that.”

out of instinct choso’s hand rubbed across the aching area on his neck. it didn’t hurt too bad, it felt like a dull bruise at the most, but even if it was painful, he’d endure it for you.

he sighed when your cold hand cupped his jaw. “the venom will help the healing process as well. m’so sorry, cho. i’ll explain more as best as i can in the morning.”

his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb tenderly rubbing the soft skin. “i’d appreciate that. we don’t have to go too in detail, but i—i have so many questions.”

“and they will all be answered in due time, i promise . . . i really appreciate you for doing this. your blood will keep my appetite at bay for days, it’s such a relief knowing i won’t have to get my hands dirty.”

choso’s heart skipped a beat when you softly pressed your lips against his, but it didn’t last long, a sharp breath slipping past his lips when you pulled away.

when your smaller hand enveloped his, he followed you like a lost puppy, eyes wide with wonder. his hands felt shaky, clammy, but not from fear, more like excitement.

he couldn’t believe this was real, this was actually happening.

now all the little odd things you did made sense to him. the blacked out curtains in your room that you kept closed twenty-four seven, your peculiar eating habits, the way you’d disappear for hours, sometimes even days, at a time.

“are you alright? you look a little spaced out . . . if you wanna back out that’s okay i don’t mind—”

“i wanna do it. m’just . . . thinking is all.”

“o—okay, well have a seat here,” you mumbled, using your hands to gesture to the couch. with no questions asked, choso sat down, adjusting this thighs in a way that would be comfortable for you to sit on.

the light from the tv illuminated your figure, and when he looked up he couldn’t see your face, only the dull glow of your eyes.

his abdomen clenched when your swung your leg over his thighs, your bottom now pressed against his crotch. choso immediately leant into your touch when you cupped his cheeks, his lips chasing after yours.

your lips met his in a hungry exchange, but you didn’t do it for too long, much to his dismay. “i got blood on my lips, that’s gross,” you whispered, giving the shell of his ear a tiny kiss, and then another on his jaw, and another on his neck.

choso nudged at your cheek with his nose, eyes squeezing shut to prepare himself.

“i’ll try to be gentle, can’t make any promises though,” and with that you sank your teeth into his neck, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the taste of him. it was indescribable. better than the oldest, most expensive wines ever made, and you trust you’ve had your share of them.

choso’s body had gone completely slack, his head tilting back against the couch. “this feels . . . ” his words trailed off, lips parting as an accidental moan leapt up his throat.

he could only describe the feeling of your venom as being heavily wine drunk. he couldn’t feel any pain, only the feeling of your tongue swiping against his neck. he felt hot, too hot for his own liking, and the most annoying part of it all was that he was starting to get hard again.

“a-am i doing okay?” his voice was breathy, and borderline whiny. you made a noise, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it, until you swiftly whipped your face from his neck, your chest heaving from deep breaths.

for once in your entire life you felt like you had finally had your fill. no lingering hunger resided in your belly for blood, only a hunger for choso, and choso only. you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so at peace.

“you did great. so, so good,” you murmured, nudging your nose against his. “does your neck hurt, you feel funny?”

you smelt like blood, the metallic scent had his insides twisting.

“no it doesn’t hurt, and i guess i feel fine . . . how do you feel?” his thumb hastily brushed against your bottom lip.

“i feel much, much better, but now i’m hungry for somethin’ else.” choso visibly shuddered when he heard the sound of your fangs retracting, your once crimson red eyes now back to their original, soft brown color.

now that you were at no risk of harming choso, you could finally smush your lips against his once more, blood smeared across your lips and all. choso’s lips parted, giving you quick access to slip your tongue inside his mouth.

you tasted like blood. it wasn’t an awful taste, but it was definitely a strange one.

“i-i thought you said kissing with blood on—on your lips is gross,” he panted, eyes squeezing shut when your bottom half brushed against his. your fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to give yourself access to his neck.

choso’s adams apple bobbed, eyes zeroing in on the ceiling. your lips ghosted over the tender beneath his jaw, little spots of blood still speckled around the area. your tongue darted out, gently gliding over the sensitive skin. “that feels n-nice,” he sighed dreamily, fingers digging into your sides.

choso was flushed all over. his clothes felt too tight, almost restrictive, he wanted them off—yours included.

“can i—can i touch you some more? l-like under your clothes?” you let out a small hum, giving him the green light to feel you up as he pleased, and boy did his hands wander. he started off by rubbing the bare skin of your hips, and then they drifted up your back, tracing random lines and shapes.

your lips connected with his once again, and that’s when his hands made a beeline for your behind, squeezing the soft flesh with need. “you’re so soft n’ smell s’good.” his words were slurred, heavy pants slipping past his kiss bitten lips.

you sucked on his bottom lip, and that’s what had him whining into your mouth, his hips bucking up. he was holding back, you could tell, and that just wouldn’t do for you.

“you’ve probably been waiting for this a long time, hm?” you whispered, peppering his flaming cheeks and nose with kisses. choso groaned, his head bowing in a shallow nod. you slowly slipped the straps of your top off, exposing your breasts, and choso wasted no time cupping them, his thumbs running over the petal soft skin.

“you have *kiss* *kiss* no idea,” he murmured into your collarbone. “it’s been so bad these past couple of weeks. couldn’t get you out of my head, y/n, not even video games helped.”

his arms wrapped around your waist, and with a low grunt he stood up, hands slithering down to cup your ass. “is it cool if i take you to my ro—!”

choso was cut off by your lips roughly smushing against his in a clash of tongue and teeth. he’ll take that as a yes.

when choso kicked open the door to his room your scenes were taken over by the overwhelming scent that was him—it was a homey scent, one that had you instantly relaxed.

he set you down gently on the edge of his bed, and knelt between your legs, hands caressing the bare skin of your thighs. “you’re so pretty. wanna kiss you all over—worship you. please let me.” your head tilted back, lips parting in a low moan when he sucked at the spot below your ear.

“s-sure, cho. do whatever you wan’ to me.”

choso whined into your neck, teeth grazing over your collarbone. “don’t say stuff like that, baby, because i will, and then we won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

baby. that was new.

choso kissed his way down your sternum until he reached your breast, lips immediately latching onto your nipple. the feeling of his tongue piercing swiping against the bud had your teeth clamping onto your bottom lip.

your hand cradled the back of his neck, pushing him more into your chest. “i don’t get tired, like at all, so we can go as long as you need to.” and it was true! not only did you have inhuman stamina, but you quite literally couldn’t get tired, even if you stayed up for days on end. you did enjoy an occasional cat nap during the day though.

choso tried to speak, but his words were muffled by the your chest, and even then he couldn’t find it in himself to move an inch.

his fingers looped onto the waistband of your pajama shorts, giving them an experimental tug. when you looked down, his purple irises were already staring back at you. you let out a small giggle, “ya’ know, i’ve never noticed how much your bags bring out the color of your eyes.”

choso scoffed, his lips cracking into the tiniest smile. “wow, thanks. i gotta say, that blood around your mouth n’ chin really brings out your eyes, erm, well i guess i should say your other eyes.” you both snickered, noses bumping into each other so cutely that if anyone were to see they’d gag from how adorable you two were.

choso’s lips captured yours in a soft kiss, and with one swift tug he pulled your pajama shorts off. you were almost completely bare for him, the only clothing on you being your panties and your top that was sitting underneath your breasts.

“what’re you gonna do now, hm?” you hummed, lips breaking out into a giddy smile.

“eat your pussy if that’s alright with you,” he grinned, looking up at you through his lashes while he pressed tiny kisses over the tops of your thighs.

your body flopped back against the mattress, and shortly after you spread your legs, finally giving choso a salivating view of your center. he was entranced—no, no, he was starstruck. his body count was particularly high, but out of all the girls he’s had the privilege to indulge in, you had the the prettiest pussy by far.

he felt like a dog, drool pooling on the tip of his tongue as he leant forward to get a better view. “can i—may i taste?” you didn’t respond, instead you just blindly reached for his head and pushed him down until you felt the tip of his nose graze over your folds.

choso didn’t know what the next day had in store for him, for all he knew this may be the last he’ll see you because he knows your secret, so for that reason he took his sweet time with you.

with a slow bat of his eyes, he poked the tip of his tongue out, and slowly circled it over your swollen clit. he kept doing then until your hips were weakly thrusting up, and then, and only then, did he finally cup your pussy with his tongue, swiping the muscle swiftly through your folds.

finally being able to get a taste of your essence could only be describe as heaven. seriously. choso wasn’t the type to moan while he ate pussy, only because it felt too embarrassing, but right now? he couldn’t have gave less of a shit about his volume.

“you’re so soft down here,” he muttered, sloppily rubbing his lips against your folds. he couldn’t get enough of the way you felt, the way you stated, your scent. he was addicted.

“h-hah! feels s’good, cho,” you mewled weakly, fingers threading through his brown locs. each time you gave his hair a sharp tug, he’d groan into your cunt. every stinging sensation from your pulling had his dick leaking like a faucet, surely staining the soft cotton of his briefs.

with shaky hands, you hooked them underneath the backs of your knees, and lifted your legs. choso followed your movements, and pushed your legs back even further, his entire mouth cupping your pussy.

his lips puckered, slurping up everything you had to offer him. the noises he was making were downright obscene—not a kiss, slurp, or suck gone unheard.

you could hear the way his heart raced, the way all the blood in his body pumped to his dick. it made your body feel hot all over, which was odd because you couldn’t particularly produce body heat.

“your pussy is so cute,” he breathily chuckled, using both thumbs to spread your lips. his tongue lolled out, a line of spit slowly dripping from the tip of it and onto your clit. “can i put a finger in? please? i’ll be so gentle, i-i promise.”

you pushed yourself up with your elbows, your cheeks puffing up in a deep exhale. “what about your hands? don’t they hurt?”

choso lifted his right hand, his fingers wiggling around freely. “my fingers are good see? s’just my palm, baby, don’t worry. i promise i’ll be gentle,” he murmured, giving the inside of your thigh a wet kiss.

and gentle he was. the second you gave him the green light, his middle finger began to gently prod at your entrance, and to relieve any potential pain he swiped his tongue piercing back and forth on your clit.

choso gnawed on his lip piercing, tugging the metal with his teeth as a form of restraint. “shit, that’s tight.” your walls felt velvet soft against his finger, sucking the digit back in each time he tried to pull it out.

“another one, please,” you whined, cupping your breasts softly. choso hummed, adding his ring finger into the mix ever so slowly. his fingers curled, and this had your eyes rolling back.

a white, translucent cream began to coat his fingers, and with a choked noise he pulled them out, shoving them past his lips seconds later. you whimpered at the loss of contact, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“ith tho gooth,” he said, words coming out muffled due to a mouthful of fingers. he removed them from his mouth, and blindly wiped them on the sheets below you, before maneuvering himself on top of you, the bulge in his sweats now pressing snugly against your cunt.

one of his hands cupped your jaw, and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. his thumb pushed down on your chin, parting your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue in your mouth. he tasted like you; sweet, yet tangy.

you both moaned in unison when choso’s hips started to move. he just couldn’t help it, and it felt soooo good. the way the soft material of his sweats rubbed against your clit had you drooling, and choso shamelessly licked it up, his tongue swiping across the center of yours.

your hands wandered across his back, feeling every ridge and muscle over his shirt. he was so strong, and his skin was piping hot to the touch over over his clothes.

“off,” you whispered, tugging at the thin material, “wan’ it off of you.” choso moaned against your lips, giving them one final peck before sitting back on his knees. he shirt was off instantly, tossed to the side without a care.

choso let out a small noise of surprise when your foot pressed against his pecs, moving lower until you stopped at his lower tummy. “you’re so handsome, cho. ‘could just eat you up,” you giggled, nudging your foot against his bulge. choso groaned, his hand wrapping around your ankle.

“don’t—don’t do that, please. i’m already about to fuckin’ bust over here,” he chuckled breathlessly, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“mm, really?” your lips lifted in a lazy smirk before you nudged his clothed cock again, earning a breathy moan from choso.

“you like that?”

“m-mhmmm,” you weren’t even moving your foot at the point, choso was doing it for you, gently moving it up and down the length of his cock. “f-feels nice. it was starting to—ngh, h-hurt a little,” his lips broke out into a drunk smile and before you knew it choso was using your foot to get himself off.

“if you cum like this i might just have to laugh at you,” you grinned up at him, pressing your foot down harder. choso was squeezing your ankle impossibly tight, so hard that if you weren’t who you were, he’d be worried about leaving bruises.

his lips puffed up in a pout, nose scrunching in pleasure and embarrassment. “m’not gonna cum like this, i just—i just needed a little relief. fuck me.”

there was now a small wet patch on the front of his sweats, growing bigger and bigger as the minutes passed.

“cho?” you murmured, completely in awe of the state he was in. choso hummed, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“you want me to help you out?”

his nod was eager, and with one harsh tug, he pulled the waistband of his sweats and briefs down, exposing his poor, sensitive dick. hung was an understatement, this man was so big it had you questioning yourself.

“w-what do you want me to do? want me to lay down, stand? just tell me, and i’ll do it.” although choso was towering over you, he had never felt so smell under your intimidating gaze. you looked like you wanted to eat him up, and he was more than willing to allow it.

that’s how he ended up bare, on his back, with you sitting on top of his stomach, a mischievous grin on your lips.

your eyes trailed to his neck, and with a single look from you, he turnt his head to the side giving you a better view. the healing process for the wound on his neck was already starting, now fixing to form into a dull scar.

“this should be fully healed by morning,” you whispered, stroking his collarbone with your knuckle. you fingers danced their way to his jaw, gripping it with little force. his lips parted in a silent plea for a kiss. you happily obliged, leaning down with quickness to suck his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss didn’t last long, unfortunately, but you made it up by tenderly kissing every inch of skin you could reach on your slow decent down his body.

“h-ho, geez,” he gasped, hands clenching into fists when your tongue swirled over his pierced nipple. you giggled between kisses, your tongue poking out to run over the ridges of his abs. “did you like that?” you asked, gently flicking his nipple.

choso brushed his damp hair out of his face, “y-yeah, i did. i liked it a lot.”

noted.

your hands trailed down his muscly thighs as you kissed lower, and lower, until you reached where he needed you most.

his dick was pretty. pale, with a dark pink tip, and a patch of dark hair below the base of it. his was tip was shiny, gleaming from his bedside lamp. “so big . . .” you murmured, wrapping your hand around the thick appendage. the veins wrapped along it thrummed against your fingers, begging to be relieved.

choso was sure he wouldn’t last very long, and unfortunately, he was correct, because the second he felt the warmth of your tongue trace along the thick vein on the underside, he was knew he was a goner.

“oh shitttt.”

your lips wrapped around his swollen tip, tongue grazing over his leaky slit. he tasted sweet, which was expected due to his healthy diet.

your cheeks hollowed, and that’s what had choso’s jaw dropping, tongue damn near falling out of his mouth. his dick twitched in your mouth, and you sucked harder, little dribbles of spit spilling from the corners of your mouth.

“hah—y/n, baby, that feels fuckin’ great,” he all but purred, resting his arms behind his head. when you peered at him through your lashes, your eyes zeroed in on his biceps. they were so big n’ muscly, you just wanted to bite them—but in a loving way!

he followed your gaze, a lazy smirk lifting at the corner of his lips. “heh, you wan’ me to flex for you, or somethin’?”

you pulled off his dick, lips swollen, and nostrils flared as you tried to catch your breath. your hand wrapped around his base, stroking it quickly while your other hand squeezed his balls. “maybe later . . . careful though, i might take a bite out of you.”

choso grinned, a laugh rumbling in his chest, but it was quickly overtaken by a loud moan. did you just—did you just bite him again?

he looked down at you, and sure enough there you were, teeth latched onto his thigh while your hand continued to work his cock. your tongue ran over the mark on his thigh, and with a quiet giggle, you gave the tender, reddened skin a soft kiss.

you were shocked when choso’s hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your movements.

“if you—ngh, stroke it again m’gonna cum. seriously, like i’m—i’m not k-kidding.” his nose and eyebrows were scrunched in pure concentration, balls throbbing for the feeling of release.

“get up here, ride me. you’ve been around a long time right? surely you can show me a few tricks,” his smile looked strained, and it was! he wasn’t doing himself any favors in this moment, imagining you on top of him, riding him like you hated his guts. god this was starting to hurt.

you gave his cock a final sloppy kiss at the base, and slowly crawled your way up the bed until your lower half was hovering over his. his cock twitched, grazing over your cunt for only a millisecond, but it was enough to have choso whimpering.

you balanced yourself on the balls of your feet, hands moving behind you to find purchase on his thighs for stability.

“i do know a thing or two,” you murmured, pressing your pussy against his cock. fuck, he felt so hot. choso’s lashes fluttered, “sit on it. please, please just—just sit on it.”

if choso could describe the feeling of being inside you, he wouldn’t know what to say, because the feeling is indescribable. maybe euphoric would be a good word? you fit together perfectly, like the worlds most fucked up puzzle.

he didn’t feel that warm sensation like he did from other girls, but that was to be expected due to you not radiating any kind of body heat. you were wet though, very wet, and mind numbingly soft.

he was gasping for air, words coming out a garbled, choked up mess, “t-this feels . . .”

“good right?” your words came out as a fluttery sigh, your hips now moving in slow circles. choso’s head fell back into his stack of pillows, hands finding purchase on your thighs.

“so fuckin’ good, babe,” he grunted, eyes zeroing in on the way your pussy gripped him, the way it struggled to take each inch of him. you’re the only girl that’s been able to take more than half of his nine inch length, not the he was bragging of course, in fact he was a little embarrassed about it. not even his pocket pussy that he whipped out for special occasions could fit all of him :(

shlick! shlick! shlick!

the sounds of your pussy sucking choso’s cock in was the only sound that could heard throughout the room, that and choso’s high pitched whimpers.

“you wan’ me to go faster?”

choso nodded, tongue lolling out of his mouth, followed by heavy pants. you giggled, moving your hips in quick figure eights. “you look n’ sound like a fuckin’ dog, cho. are you a dog?”

your hips had unexpectedly dropped, engulfing the entirety of choso’s cock in your cunt. his lips parted, a loud moan echoing throughout the room. “y-yes, yes i am—fuck, mm’a fuckin’ dog,” he uttered through grit teeth. his dick throbbed between your walls, release already just inches away.

“y-yeah, yeah, fuck me like that. just like that, baby, please keep going. c’mere, come closer,” choso panted, using all of his strength to sit up, and pull you closer to him. his arms wrapped around your waist, smushing your bodies together until there was no space to be seen.

your hands wandered across his upper back, eventually finding themselves to the hairs at the nape of his neck. you pulled him in for a heated kiss, and at the same time started to move your hips, the new angle making you see stars.

“ngh—s’real deep,” you were shocked by the shakiness in your voice, but you truly couldn’t help it, not with the way choso’s tip was prodding against that spot that had your toes curling.

he was so rough, yet gentle. quick, yet oh so sensual. you could fell all those weeks of yearning he pushed down with each brush of his hands against your skin. he was feeling you up anywhere he could—from your lower back, to your thighs, to your breasts. he couldn’t get enough.

“mm, shit—you cumming? you feel real—”

choso’s words came out muffled when your hand slapped across his mouth, your head tilting back in a high pitched moan. “yes, y-yes, i’m cumming. hush for a second,” your brows furrowed in concentration as you chased your high, and choso just watched in awe. his eyes were low and lidded, and if it weren’t for your hand being smushed against his lips, he’d be drooling.

god, you were perfect. he liked you so much, maybe a little too much if you really thought about it, but who’s thinking right now?

your cunt convulsed around his cock, white, translucent pearls of cum dripping down the base and onto the bedsheets. your hand had moved from his mouth, and joined your other in clawing at his back, crimson red lines now raising in their wake.

choso could feel the cool air brushing against his new wounds, and his veins ran cold. not out of terror, nor fear, but something else.

the trembles in your body were slowly fading away, and yet, you were still holding choso close to you in an iron grip, your face now buried in his neck. the smell of blood hit you like a semi, of course, but for some reason you didn’t get the overwhelming urge to bite him. it still smelt like heaven though. it had saliva pooling on your tongue, threatening to spill past your lips.

maybe a taste wouldn’t hurt.

“ . . . that smells nice,” you whispered into his skin, middle finger swiping over the scratches on his back. you removed your face from his neck, your eyes finding his. “may i ? . . . wanna do this the right way this time—if there’s even a right way for this,” you both laughed, and with a deep inhale through his nose, choso nodded, uttering out a tiny ‘please.’

with no hesitation your lips wrapped your finger, and fuck, this was some good shit. you still had trouble believing such a delectable thing existed. you moaned around your finger, pulling it from your mouth with a quiet pop!

his eyes lit up, like he was waiting for you to say something. your lips curled into a lazy smirk, “can i have some more?” before you had even finished your sentence, choso dumbly shook his head, chest heaving from pure adrenaline.

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing you in your true form—eyes deep red, and teeth bared, ready to sink your teeth in his skin. he figured you would go for his neck, and tilted his head to the side to give you better access, but you had other plans.

your manicured fingers gripped his jaw, turning him towards you, “later. i want you to keep fucking me.”

choso truly didn’t need to be told twice.

he lifted you off his cock with ease, teeth clenching together in a hiss at the cool temperature that greeted him. maybe he was too fucked out, but he could’ve sworn you had gotten warmer around him.

he flipped your body over, lifting your hips up to position you on all fours. your body relaxed into the pillow he placed beneath your tummy, and with a dreamy sigh, you began to sway your hips.

“since you think m’such a dog, might as well fuck you like one right?” he chuckled, swiping his tips between your soaked folds. shockingly, his crappy joke made you laugh, and the melodic sound had his heart tightening.

you slowly turned your head back, locking at eyes with him. your lips curled into a smile when you heard him audibly gulp.

“you scared?”

choso slowly shook his head, eyes softening.

“ . . . no. you’re just so fucking pretty. even with . . . you know,” he trailed off, chuckling as he gestured to his eyes and teeth. your stomach twisted, and with a small squeak your whipped your head back around. “thank you,” you muttered into the sheets, biting back a smile.

choso grinned, gently caressing the skin of your ass. had he made you . . . flustered?

he slowly pushed his tip between your folds, groaning at the stretch. “do i got the little murderous vampire all shy now?” he chucked, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip. you whined, wiggling your hips against him. choso gently pushed down on your back, deepening your arch.

“gotta make sure you feel me allll the way,” in one swift movement, he pushed himself in to the hilt, “in here.” his hand swooped underneath you to push against your tummy, earning a loud squeak from you.

“tell me how you feel, now. tell me how it feels.” his eyes were clenched shut, meanwhile his hands were gripping onto your hips for dear life.

your lips parted, but no words were able to come out, only a pathetic wheeze. choso slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, creating a slow, steady rhythm. “c’mon, baby. talk to me,” he grunted.

your arms outstretched, nails clawing at his bedsheets from pleasure. “full . . .” was all you managed to get out between cries and hiccups. your mind was a muddled mess, all of your senses consumed by choso.

his slow pace didn’t last long, and next thing you knew he was pounding you into the mattress. his foot was perched on the bed, meanwhile one of his hands was pushing your face further, and further into the bed.

“this fuckin’ pussy,” he gasped out, eyes flitting to the mess between your bodies. your essence clung to his sweaty skin, creating thin webs with each clap of his hips against your rippling ass.

“faster! f-faster!” you pleaded, throwing your ass back to match his thrusts. the feeling of his cock nudging deep inside was like a high you kept chasing, you just couldn’t get enough!

“mm, baby wants it faster? no problem.” you gasped when you were suddenly yanked up by your hair, your body slotting against choso’s perfectly. his arm wrapped around your neck, keeping you in place as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

choso couldn’t help but coo at the way you nibbled on his bicep. it hurt so good. so much so that when you actually bit him, and started feeding, all he could do was go cross eyed, his knees nearly buckling.

“jesus christ, a warning would’a been—hah, n-nice,” he whined into your neck, thrusts coming to a halt. shivers ran up his back, that same dizzy feeling from earlier overcoming him once more. you responded with a noise that was a cross between a moan, and a giggle.

“ngh, this—this feels amazing, o-oh my—”

choso’s ears started to ring, his orgasm washing over him in harsh waves. he wanted to hold back, he really did, but you had him completely weakened, mind and body nothing but a pile of mush.

your eyes fluttered shut, a content moan rumbling in your chest at the feeling of warmth that flooded your tummy. you couldn’t even remember the last time a guy fucked you so good that you let him finish inside you.

you retracted your fangs from his arm, tongue lolling out to lick up any excess blood. choso whimpered behind you, and without warning he sunk his teeth into your shoulder. hard.

you yelped, body going completely limp in his strong hold. “how do you like it, hm?” he growled in your ear, poking his tongue out to run over the shell of it. you let out a small, breathless laugh, “heh. i can s-see why people don’t like it too much.”

choso slowly pulled out with a hiss, his eyes flitting to his cock that was a glistening, creamy mess. he wanted you to clean him up, suck him off until you were gagging around his dick, but that would to have wait because unfortunately for you, choso still hasn’t had his fill.

he twisted you around onto your back, roughly pushing your knees to your chest. he pressed a kiss to the center of your food before tapping his fat tip against your clit, relishing in the way your mewled at the contact.

“she’s so fat n’ cute,” he grinned, slipping his cock between your puffy folds. you covered your face in embarrassment, but he was quick to slap them away. he’d be damned if you obstructed the most perfect view a person could have.

“c-cho—”

“shhh, listen.”

your embarrassment increased tenfold, the sound of his cock rubbing in between your folds becoming deafening.

“ugh, just put it in, you big brute,” you sniffled, fangs catching onto your bottom lip. choso noticed this, and leant down, “don’t bite too hard. don’t want ya to hurt yourself.” his voice was sweet and low, sending shivers up your back. he didn’t move until you nodded, and released your lip.

“good girl,” he murmured, letting a glob of spit fall from between his lips and onto your clit. while his thumb roughly rolled over your swollen nub, he slowly began to push his cock inside once more, slipping in with ease.

your back arched, thighs beginning shake from your already nearing orgasm. “fast, cho, faster,” you pleaded, pulling your knees back further. choso groaned, quickening the pace of his hips. he could’ve easily cum once again seeing how flexible you were.

he just wanted to fill you up over, and over again . . . and he did. until you physically had to stop him because the poor boy could barely keep up with himself.

he was on his back once more, chest heaving rapidly while you sat on top on his stomach, pinning his hands above his head. it was nearing four a.m. and for once in your life, you were utterly exhausted. you had never met another human being with stamina like him, it actually frightened you a bit.

“you can barely keep your eyes open, yet you want more . . . what’s up with that?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. all choso could do was shrug and thrust his hips up. you were using quite a bit of strength this time, so he really couldn’t move.

“well i need a break,” you spoke softly, releasing one of his wrists so you could cradle his face, “and you do too. how about you get some sleep, yeah?”

you could’ve melted at the way choso pouted, his brows scrunching up oh so cutely. he didn’t fight you, or protest, instead he just nodded, drowsiness already beginning to overtake him.

“you’re gonna sleep in here, right?”

“if you want me to i will, though i do have to be somewhere at seven,” you whispered, releasing your grip on him entirely. you moved off of his stomach, and got comfy before nuzzling into his side, your hand coming up to tenderly rub on his stomach.

“don’t you—don’t need me to clean you up?” he mumbled, eyes now shut from sleepiness. you made a noise of disapproval, and shook your head, “i’ll be fine, just get some rest. don’t forget you do have work in a few hours.”

choso didn’t need to be told twice and within minutes you began to hear small snores from his parted lips, his racing heartbeat now at a calm, steady rhythm. you were seriously going to have to introduce this boy to some herbal tea with the way he’s constantly worked up.

“mm, this calls a for a little cat nap,” you sighed dreamily, nuzzling more into choso’s side. his arms wrapped around you tighter, chin now resting on the crown of your head. his toned chest was now centimeters away from your face, and unfortunately your intrusive thoughts won, because the last thing you remembered before dozing off was nibbling on his chest to soothe the ache in your gums.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

“thank you for finally gracing me with your presence. following you around has been rather tiresome.”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to entertain nanami’s comment as you took a sip of your matcha. it had been five months since you’ve seen him, and they’ve been the most peaceful months of your life. why hadn’t you thought of getting a roommate sooner?

you set your cup down rather obnoxiously, your arms folding together as you leant back in your chair. “is there any particular reason why you called this meeting? the sun is supposed to be at a uv nine today. i’d like to get home soon.”

that was an actual reason, but what you really wanted to do was see choso. you’d been thinking about him, and his lovely scent since you stepped foot out of your apartment.

saying getting out of bed that morning would be an understatement—that shit was one of the hardest trials of your life! choso had refused to let you get out of bed, not even caring that his sore hands were screaming in pain as he held you in place. you had no other choice but to slowly fuck him back to sleep, your leg thrown over his waist while he delivered slow strokes until he was cumming with a loud whine.

after he dozed off you were finally able to slip out of his grasp and leave, but not before internally melting at how cute his cheeks looked when they were puffy from sleep.

nanami took a long, slow sip of his coffee. “how’s your roommate?”

you shuffled in your seat, “he’s fine, nothing new.”

“ah, so he’s still with us?”

you frowned, eyes narrowing at the blonde. “of course he is. i told you i won’t, and still don’t plan on harming him. we’ve formed . . . a sort of bond. we’re friends.”

“yes, yes. i’d be pretty chummy with a human too if i found out their blood type was o-negative. it’s got to rather painful to control the urges though, no?”

you froze, breath getting caught in your throat. now how the hell did he know that?!

he took your silence as an answer and continued to speak, “i could smell it on you the second you walked in here. you fed off of him, but i still can’t decide if you’re telling the truth about him being dead or not. i’m sure you know what’ll happen if the council finds out you’ve exposed yourself to a human, and let them live.”

your lips parted to speak, then shut. you were at a complete loss, mind boggled at how nanami was able to figure it out.

“how—how do you know it’s his and not someone else’s, hm? you have no idea what you’re talking about kenny,” you spoke softly, voice shaking the tiniest bit.

nanami set his mug aside, and leant on the table, his now crimson eyes piercing into yours. “i’ve been following your friend around a little bit, and i’m sure you know a scent like his is hard to miss.”

a beat of silent passed, and then another.

“w-why . . . why’re you following him around?! he’s done nothing wrong!” you could feel your temper rising. the mere thought of nanami stalking him without his knowledge had your blood boiling. “choso is innocent in all this, he doesn’t need to be stalked or harassed by you.”

“who said anything about harassing him? i just wanted to make sure that he was still alive, and not asking too many questions about his roommate . . . but it seems any questions he had about you have been answered. i know you fed off of him y/n. there is no use in lying. my problem is, instead of finishing the job, you let him live. i am sworn by an oath to watch over you, and clean up any messes you make—”

“i was not going to kill an innocent man because of something that was my fault,” you growled, voice lowering two octaves. “you don’t even know the full story of what happened, or what was said, so you are in no position to decide whether choso lives or dies.”

nanami’s expression was bored, and unamused, like he couldn’t be bothered to hear what you had to say.

“he promised to keep my secret, and i believe him. i couldn’t really give less of shit if you believe him or not, all that matters is that i do, and i have a great intuition. besides who would believe him anyway? there’s scarier, more violent things than us on the subways. i think we’ll be okay.”

nanami took another sip of his coffee, “and if he starts spouting nonsense about how vampires are real, then what?”

your head cocked to the side, and you smiled, but it wasn’t a sincere one, it almost looked sinister. “then i’ll kill him where he stands, and flee the city. i already have my next destination in mind if shit goes left.”

your stomach twisted, almost painfully. you didn’t mean anything you said, not a word of it, but you had to play it up for kento. god, even the thought of laying a threatening hand on choso made you nauseous.

“but what about the council? my oath—”

“geeeez, you and this goddamn oath—who cares?! the council is all the way across the sea in europe. what they don’t know won’t kill them, and if they find out about what i did, i will accept any consequences given to me.”

nanami scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “why do you care so much for this human? you’ve never gone out of your way to accept such a fate for anyone, why him?”

you didn’t quite know the answer to that yourself.

“i’ve grown fond of him, like i said before, we’re friends,” you spoke softly, eyes drifting to the couple that was sitting a few tables away from you. they were giggling and laughing together without a care in the world, and it wasn’t until now that you realized how much you missed the simplicity of caring and loving for another being.

your eyes flit back to nanami’s, lowering in a glare. “i mean it, ken. if you, or—or anyone, tries to harm him because of something he didn’t choose to know . . . i’ll—i’ll—”

“you’ll what?”

“i’ll kill you. i don’t know how, but i will. i appreciate you for cleaning up my messes, lord knows i’d probably be dead for real without you, but i don’t think this requires your attention. i hope you can understand that, because as long as i’m around, choso will remain alive and well.”

“hi! can i get you two anything else?”

the stare down that you and kento were having was interrupted by a bubbly waitress. you didn’t say anything, instead you just continued to stare at him, your face expressionless.

nanami blinked once, twice, thrice.

“no, i think we’re done here. thank you for taking such good care of us, dear,” he spoke lowly, offering the waitress a small smile, and a fifty dollar bill. she swooned of course, mentioning something along the lines of hoping to see him again soon, and you all but gagged watching the interaction.

after the waitress walked away, nanami cleared his throat. “i hope you know what you’re doing, y/n. keep in touch,” and with that he was gone, leaving you stunned, and nearly on the verge of tears.

was he convinced? was your choso safe?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[seumyo]

husband!kageyama taking care of your nails for you.

“You know, when you told me you were going to clip my nails, I didn’t think you meant it seriously.”

Kageyama gave a small grunt, not looking up. “I always mean it seriously.”

“That’s what worries me a little.”

He blinked, pausing to glance at you. “Why?”

“Because you have your ‘actual game face’ on. Like you’re about to hit the ball through someone’s soul—my poor finger’s soul.”

His brow furrowed. “This is delicate work,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I have to focus. And I’m careful.”

You laughed, watching him lift your hand like it was a precious object. He took a long moment to examine your fingers—turning them slightly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles in slow circles. It’s gentle and careful, and it warms your heart to see your husband so loving like this.

“You have a hangnail here,” he muttered, frowning. “Were you picking at it again?”

“I got nervous during that meeting yesterday.”

He clicked his tongue quietly. “Stop doing that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t know I’d be getting a full checkup afterward!”

“You don’t need to be nervous. You’re… good at what you do.” His voice dropped a little as he said it, like it embarrassed him to offer praise so directly. “I’ve heard you on the phone. You’re smart. And brave.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. Your smile softened. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said all week.”

“I said you looked pretty yesterday.”

“You said I ‘looked rested.’”

“…Oh. Well, you look even prettier today.”

You laughed, and it made his ears turn pink.

He clipped your nails gently, his hands steady, fingers long and precise. He held each of yours securely, guiding you through the process like a practiced routine. It wasn’t rushed; Kageyama took his time, carefully aligning the clipper, checking the angle twice before making a cut. After each nail, he paused to brush the trimmed bits into a little ceramic bowl they kept nearby.

“Do you do this often?” You asked after a long pause. “For yourself, I mean?”

He nodded once. “Every few days. I have to. My fingers are everything. If I don’t keep my nails short and clean, they can catch on the ball or split. It’s stupid how much one little crack can mess with your whole game.”

You gave him a look, eyes wide with something like quiet awe. “You take this so seriously.”

“It’s part of taking care of myself,” he said, and his gaze lifted to yours. “And now it’s part of taking care of you too.”

Your breath caught for just a moment. How did you ever get so lucky to snag this man?

Kageyama picked up the small file next and began to smooth the edges with slow, even strokes. The motion was rhythmic and tender. You watched the way he focused so intently on the task—the slight pinch in his brow, the way his lower lip pressed into a thin line when he was trying to be especially careful.

“You always do this when you’re nervous,” you said softly, brushing your free hand against his hair.

“Do what?”

“Zone in. Like the world disappears except the thing you’re trying to control.”

Kageyama was quiet for a moment, then exhaled. “That’s… true.”

“Are you nervous right now?”

He hesitated. “Not nervous. Just… I want to get it right.”

“Because it’s me?”

He gave the tiniest nod, eyes still trained on your thumbnail. “You’re important. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his for a beat. “You won’t.”

The silence between you grew comfortable. The kind of quiet that speaks in glances and gentle touches. After he filed the last nail, he gently ran his thumb across each fingertip, checking for snags, tiny splinters, anything he might have missed. Then he reached for the cuticle oil and unscrewed the little bottle with a slow, almost reverent motion.

“I’m going to massage this in,” he said, almost shyly—yet still determined.

You nodded, watching him carefully as he dabbed a small dot of oil on each nail, then rubbed it in with soft, circular motions. His touch was warm, so warm, like the atmosphere during mornings in a bakery. The way he held your hand wasn’t just careful—it was reverent. As if your hands were something sacred. Something worth protecting.

“I like your hands,” he said suddenly.

You scrunched your nose, barely. “Really?”

“They’re soft. And warm. And… I know them.” His voice dropped lower, murmuring. “I know the way you hold my wrist when I’m anxious. The way you press your palm to my back when I come home late. How you run your fingers through my hair when I can’t sleep.”

You swallowed. Your chest ached in that lovely, terrible way when someone says exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it.

“I want to take care of them,” he added, brushing his thumb along the side of your pinky. “Because they take care of me.”

“Tobio…”

He looked up then, eyes a little wide like he was afraid he’d gone too far. But you leaned forward before he could pull back and kissed him softly. When you pulled away, your voice was barely a whisper. “You are the gentlest man I’ve ever known.”

He shook his head, a breath of laughter escaping. “I’m not.”

“You are. Maybe not with words. Or… you know, strangers. But with me? You’re gentle in all the ways that matter.”

You sat like that for a long moment—hands still entwined, foreheads nearly touching, the world outside fading into white noise. Then Kageyama cleared his throat. “I could… maybe paint them next time? If you want?”

Your eyes lit up. “You’d paint my nails?”

He gave an awkward little shrug. “If you like it. I’d have to practice.”

You hummed, pulling him forward into another kiss, lingering and full of affection. “You’re already perfect.”

Kageyama flushed from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears once again. He’s so easily flustered—it’s almost illegal to be this cute, you think.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[ilovolderman]

The Secret Notes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky leaves little notes for you.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, cute doodles

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". It doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5. thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

It all started one afternoon when you fell asleep on the couch, a book slipping from your hand. Bucky passed by and found you there, peaceful and unaware. Smiling to himself, he gently picked up the book and noticed the page you’d been reading.

With a quiet laugh, he scribbled a note on a scrap of paper:

“You stopped here. Heroine’s rule: naps first, saving the world later. - B”

He slid the note inside the book, marking the page, and placed it on the table beside you. As he left, he couldn’t help but smile at the idea of you finding it when you woke up.

The next day, you found the note in your book, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was silly, but it made your heart warm. You had to reply, of course.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, you wrote:

“A nap is a hero’s secret weapon, Bucky. Thanks for the reminder. If I do end up saving the world today, I’ll be sure to credit you. - Y/N”

You tucked the note inside his jacket pocket, hoping he’d get a good laugh when he found it. It felt so simple, so small, but the thought of sharing little moments like this with him made everything else seem a little brighter.

It wasn’t long before the notes became a daily exchange. They started off funny—sometimes quoting ridiculous lines from movies, or making playful jokes about the Avengers’ absurdly weird missions. You would find them in your locker, under your coffee mug, or tucked inside your boots. They never failed to make you smile.

Even now, after months together, he still took the time to leave you notes and little reminders.

After a particularly brutal mission, you found another note tucked into the pocket of your jacket. You nearly missed it in the rush to get ready for a debriefing. But when you unfolded it, you found it written on a torn piece of notebook paper, and a doodle of a sleeping cat at the bottom.

“You’re allowed to rest, you know. I’ll guard your coffee while you nap.”

You smiled before you could stop yourself, warmth blooming in your chest. It had been a rough couple of days—bruised ribs, no sleep. The note felt like a soft exhale in the middle of chaos.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one in the hallway.

“Whatcha got there?”

You spun around to see Sam squinting at the piece of paper now very obviously in your hand. And before you could shove it back into your pocket, the man had already snatched it like he was intercepting a rogue football.

“Sam, come on—”

He blinked and read it once. Then again. Then a third time.

 ““You’re allowed to rest, you know. I’ll guard your coffee while you nap”...and there’s a little cat at the bottom. Why is there a cat?! WHO DRAWS CATS?!”

You stared at him, trying very hard not to look like someone caught hiding a secret. “You done?”

“Oh, I’m so not done,” Sam said, holding the note like it was radioactive. “This is a nap-themed love letter, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a...friendly reminder.”

“With a doodle,” he said, as if that was damning evidence in a court of law. “Who writes you sweet notes about coffee and naps after a mission? That’s like—domestic.”

“Maybe I wrote it to myself,” you tried.

“You’re not a cat doodler. I know your vibe. You don’t doodle.”

You grabbed for the note. He dodged you.

“Sam—give it.”

“I will not. I’m onto something here.”

Just then, Bucky strolled around the corner with a cup of coffee in hand and a granola bar between his teeth, looking way too casual.

Sam froze.

You froze.

Bucky stopped mid-chew, immediately sensing the chaos in the air. “…Did I miss something?”

Sam, eyes narrowed like a detective in a sitcom, turned slowly toward him.

“Barnes.”

Bucky blinked. “Wilson.”

Sam raised the note like it was a badge. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

Bucky looked at the paper. Then at you. Then back to Sam.

There was a half-second pause.

And then Bucky shrugged. “Cute cat.”

You choked on a laugh and immediately turned it into a cough.

Sam squinted. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? ‘Cute cat’?”

Bucky popped the last of the granola bar into his mouth, completely unfazed. “You’re getting worked up over a doodle.”

Sam pointed at both of you, eyes wide with dramatic betrayal. “Okay, I don’t know what is going on, but something is going on. I feel it in my soul.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe you just need a nap.”

“I—NO! No, you don’t get to use the nap line on me! That’s part of the conspiracy!”

Sam was already walking away. “I’ll guard your coffee, Wilson,” Bucky called over his shoulder, deadpan.

The hallway finally settled into silence after Sam’s echoing footsteps disappeared around the corner. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

Bucky lingered beside you, coffee in hand. His eyes flicked toward you, and the smallest smile curved at the corner of his lips.

“So… cat doodles are suspicious now?”

You laughed under your breath. “Apparently. Next time, maybe draw a dragon or something. Keep him guessing.”

“Well,” he said, voice low and amused. “That could’ve gone worse.”

You glanced down at the note in your hand, then back at him. “I mean... he didn’t accuse you of writing love sonnets. So, yeah—definitely could’ve been worse.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, leaning casually against the wall. “Should I stop? The notes, I mean. I didn’t mean to... cause a scene.”

You looked up at him, warmth already blooming in your chest. “No. Don’t stop.”

His brow quirked slightly, curious. “No?”

“They’re one of the best parts of my day,” you said honestly, your voice soft. “They make the hard days easier, and the quiet ones feel full. I’d rather risk a hundred Sam-level interrogations than miss even one of them.”

A grin pulled at Bucky’s mouth, slow and sweet. “Yeah?”

You gave him a playful nudge. “Even if Sam tries to launch a full-scale investigation.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let him. He doesn’t scare me.”

Then, softer, with that familiar gentleness he always saved just for you, he added, “I’ll keep leaving them, then. Every note, every doodle... they’re little pieces of me. And you’re the only one I want finding them.”

Your smile widened, heart fluttering in that helpless, happy kind of way.

“I guess that makes you my favorite mystery author,” you said lightly.

Bucky leaned in, his shoulder brushing yours. “Only for you, doll.”

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a folded note—you’d planned to tuck it under his pillow later, but something made you decide to give it to him right now. You held it out to him, your smile a little shy.

He opened it slowly. Inside, your handwriting was a little messier than usual, but still clearly yours.

“You’ve got a way of making everything seem a little brighter, even when it’s a rough day. I’m lucky for it.”

Bucky looked up at you, lips parted just slightly. For a long second, he said nothing.

And then he stepped closer, closing the small space between you. His hand brushed yours, slow and warm, and he laced your fingers together.

“You’re gonna destroy me with these notes,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned into him, heart full and beating a little too fast. “Guess we’re even.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead—gentle, lingering, like a promise he never needed to say out loud. Then he tucked your note carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket, where all the best ones lived.

“Don’t tell Sam,” you whispered with a smile.

Meanwhile in the kitchen...

Sam sat at the table, muttering to himself with a pen tucked behind his ear and a spiral notebook open in front of him. On the top of the page in large, underlined letters:

Case #109: WHO THE HELL IS Y/N DATING???

Underneath it were four bullet points:

suspicious nap note

Bucky is too chill

cat doodle = code??

is Steve somehow involved???

This was war now.

And you and Bucky? You were winning.

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd @poodleofstardust @poodleofstardust

next part

[missdynamighttt]

CRAVINGGG to come home after a long day at work and dearest, loving husband! katsuki takes care of his wife.

you step through the door, exhausted from the draining day, but before you can even set your bag down, you feel katsuki’s arms wrap around you. he pulls you into him, his embrace firm and comforting.

you let out a tired sigh, your body feeling like it’s made of jello. “katsuki, go away. i’m gross.”

he doesn’t let go. instead, he tightens his grip, pulling you even closer.

“no,” he rubs his cheek against your hair, breathing you in. "i've missed you all day."

you huff, leaning into him a little, but still feeling self-conscious. “i feel disgusting, katsuki. you shouldn’t be hugging me right now. i probably smell like i’ve been working out in the sun.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” he just grumbles and pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair. “just let me hold my damn wife.”

you can’t help but smile at the way he says it, the way he makes you feel like the most important person in the world, even after a day like this. "okay, but at least let me take off my shoes. my feet are killing me."

katsuki doesn’t say anything at first, but you feel him shift before he’s crouching in front of you. the action is so unexpected that you freeze for a moment, watching him carefully unbuckle your heel with a tenderness you didn’t expect.

you flush, a little caught off guard by the intimacy of the moment. "katsuki—what are you doing?"

he glances up, his eyes intense but soft, a small smirk playing on his lips. "just making sure you relax, baby. you deserve it. don’t want you to lift a finger. gotta take care of you.”

he gently pulls off your heel and kisses the side of your leg. his lips brush against your thigh before he carefully lifts the other foot, repeating the process.

your heart races, flustered by the attention, but you let out a shaky breath, trying not to let it show. “you’re too much…”

katsuki doesn’t answer right away, his gaze lingering on your legs, eyes dark with admiration.

“baby, i don’t think you get it,” he says, slowly moving his hands up your calves, his touch reverent, almost as if he’s memorizing every curve and dip. “these legs? fuckin’ perfect. you’ve got no idea how much i love ‘em.”

you shiver slightly as his fingers trace the shape of your thigh, moving upward with a deliberate slowness. he kneels a little closer, his breath warm against your skin, and he kisses the top of your knee, as though it’s a sacred offering.

“god, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hands sliding higher, caressing the soft skin of your thighs. “never seen anyone look this good, and i get to have you all to myself.”

you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest. he’s being so intense, his worship of you so consuming, and it makes you feel like you're the only thing in the world that matters to him in this moment. “katsuki... you’re making me feel embarassed.”

he pauses, looking up at you with an almost teasing glint in his eyes. “embarassed? why? i’m just admiring my beautiful wife here.”

he places another soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

you run your fingers through his messy hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as you sigh, feeling the exhaustion wash over you like a heavy wave. despite the warmth of his touch, you’re starting to feel the weight of the day catch up to you.

“katsuki, can i... can i shower?” you ask, your voice quiet, blissed out but still a little shy from the overwhelming attention.

he doesn't answer immediately, his lips lingering against your skin as he presses one last soft kiss to your thigh, his hands gently sliding down your legs before he looks up at you. his eyes are full of affection, a hint of playfulness still there, but he nods slowly, his grip never leaving you.

"is it okay if i join you?” he asks, the question laced with care, giving you the choice.

you meet his gaze, feeling your heart flutter at the genuine softness in his eyes. a small, tired but blissed-out smile tugs at your lips as you nod. “yes... please."

he smiles, his grip never leaving you as he stands, guiding you gently toward the bathroom. "let’s get you cleaned up, gorgeous."

once the shower is running, the warm water filling the room with steam, you step inside, letting out a content sigh as the heat envelops you.

katsuki follows close behind, and soon, the two of you are standing beneath the water, his hands moving tenderly as he helps wash away the fatigue from your body.

you lean back against him, relaxing into his touch as his fingers work through your hair, massaging your scalp with slow, deliberate strokes along with your shampoo.

his hands are gentle, but the strength in them is still there. every so often, his thumb brushes against your temple, a silent reassurance that he's there.

"you're so good to me," you murmur, feeling the stress of the day melt away.

katsuki doesn’t answer at first, focusing on rinsing the shampoo from your hair before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest with a contented sigh. “i’d do anything for you, sweets. anything.”

“anything, huh?” you tease, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. “even… let me cook breakfast?”

“hell no. that’s my job," he grumbles, as if the idea is absolutely absurd.

you laugh, the sound light and airy, and he can’t help but chuckle with you, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

"what, you think i'm not capable of cooking you a decent meal?" you tease, leaning slightly to the side to catch his eye. "i can make you something amazing."

he snorts, shaking his head. "sweets, the only thing you’re amazing at is looking good in my arms."

you roll your eyes at his smug grin. “oh, i’m amazing at more than just looking good, y'know. i can, like, totally cook a meal that you'll rate 5 stars.”

he nips your shoulder lightly, the playful spark still dancing in his eyes. "if you wanna try, i guess i could let you make a little something for me. as long as you don’t burn down the kitchen, that is."

you arch an eyebrow, your lips curling into a mischievous grin. “oh, i won’t burn it down... unless you’re not around to supervise me, of course.”

“even if it’s god-awful, i’ll still eat it. but if i die from food poisoning, i swear to hell, i’m haunting your ass for the rest of my afterlife.”

“oh yeah? and what exactly does a katsuki bakugo ghost do? yell at me from beyond the grave?”

“damn right,” he smirks. “you’d never get a moment of peace. i’d be right there, messing with you every second. flicking the lights, moving your stuff, whispering in your ear when you’re trying to sleep.”

he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “and you’d still feel me, too. my hands on you, my lips on you… haunting you in all the best ways.”

you roll your eyes, still grinning. “that doesn’t sound like haunting—that just sounds like you being obnoxiously all over me forever.”

katsuki snorts. “exactly. but don’t worry, baby—i’ll make sure you don’t kill me yet. you’re stuck with me for a long, long time.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ clearing out my drafts AHHHH hope you guys enjoy another endearing, husband katsuki💜💜

[cvnt4him]

Cuddle fucking

not sure if I've done this before.

You weren't sure how you got here, one moment you were blissfully sleeping and the next you felt your mans warm breath on your neck. Heavy breaths fanning your neck making the hairs there stand up you stirred into consciousness but just barely, you could feel his hard cock driving itself into the back of your thigh as small breathy groans and disheveled moans left his open mouth. If he'd bothered to open his eyes from his stupid almost teenaged like rutting he would've noticed you'd slightly woken up.

“ baby... what're y’ doin’..”

His breath hitched behind you the sudden warmth in the pot of your neck vanishing as it seems as if he'd stopped breathing. You can hear his breath stuttering behind you as you scoot your ass back onto his bare cock, you were only in your underwear so it wasn't surprising he was using your bare skin to get off. A small breathy moan leaves him as a smile is brought to your face, you close your eyes and reach behind you grabbing onto his thick and veiny length massaging it nicely for him earning a deep groan from him.

“ fuck baby....m’sorry.. js couldn't control myself..”

You hum in a mockingly sweet tone, you bring your hand back to your mouth and gather a little spit into your hand rubbing it on your cunt to slicken yourself up a bit. He sighs heavily as he notices watching closely as he continues to stroke his cock now agonizingly slow as to not rile himself up too much, a small bead of precum forming at the top and dripping down his length he's quick to swirl his hand around his cock expertly to slicken up his already slippery cock even more for you. You don't know how long he's been doing this for but he clearly needed you. You grab his cock once more you like himself up with you, you can feel his thick cock head already getting ready to split you in half. He winces loudly at the warm feeling of your walls embracing him, first his already sensitive tip then his thick base. You sigh as you take him, regardless of how many times you take his cock it's just far too much. Whether it's the thickness or the length, it's just soo good. It takes you a minute to take him all the way to the base but as soon as you do it's like he flips out, his cock twitching inside of you signaling he was close. He couldn't help himself anymore, grabbing onto your hips and fucking himself into you. He grunts while he repeatedly tries to ram himself into you, moans leave you as you feel his bulbous tip rubbing against your g spot you arch your back and grind your ass back into him. Biting your lip to not be too loud and ruin the sweet and quiet moment you two have created. You were feeling far too good; laying down your head on the pillow as you feel the sweet feeling of slumber and pleasure plus the stinging feeling of being stretched. Your eyes roll back as you let your mouth fall open, your breathy voice coming out whiney causing the man behind you to chuckle deeply. You can feel the vibrations against your back as he pulls you closer to his chest. You were trying your hardest to fuck yourself back onto his cock but you could hardly move with the intense pleasure he was giving you.

“ shhh.... it's okay baby, lemme do it for you. let me get you there..”

The way he talked you through it, he knew he was big and definitely not easy to take all the time. It was so sweet of him to be gentle with you despite how his cock is hammering into you, you thought. There was a perfect warmth being created with your bodies moving together, the slapping sounds being made as you two let out whatever pent up feelings you had, he felt you tighten around him as he kissed your shoulder, a low growl leaving him as he whispers in your ear, his hot panting breath washing across your ear and giving you a wave of goosebumps.

“ pretty girl need this cock? huh, naughty girl? ’f course you do.. so hungry for it, hm?”

He mixed praising you with gentle degrading, it was absolutely magnificent. You moaned aloud and there your head back a clearly proud laugh leaving him as he made his strokes deeper inside of you. It was so sexy that he knew the difference between slower and rougher, regardless of what he did he knew to get it deep inside of you just like you craved. You were starting to get restless, craving all that he could give you. You wanted to be filled up with all of him and his cum, to be fucked through both your orgasms. You groaned in frustration, his cock was perfectly hitting all the right spots and rubbing you the right way, you craved to cum and you were so close. But you also wanted to cum with him making this experience more beautiful. You throw your head back onto his chest and flutter your eyes flashing the slight roll of them. He scoffs and grabs onto your neck rather tightly making you clear your throat at the slight hoarseness it's giving you, his veiny calloused hand wrapping itself around your throat as he cranes your head to the side.

“ open yer' fuckin’ eyes.”

You were quick to follow his words, opening your eyes and having trouble maintaining eye contact with him. His gaze was piercing and so intimidating, and god watching the sweat run down his forehead and neck. He's really been at it for so long, you know he's desperate to cum and you know he wants it to be inside. He wants to hear you say it; beg him for it. Not yet, not just yet. You won't give him that satisfaction yet. Youre trying your best to hold off, but the way he groans n grits and grinds his teeth together clearly letting you know he's having a hard time holding back. It's so damn sexy, you can't help the way your cunt starts to flutter around him making a gutteral groan leave him and his eyes slightly roll. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with you, he wanted to watch you very very closely as you came undone around him. You harshly bite your lip trying to contain the whorish and needy moans that escape you but you can't help it, everything in you is yearning and begging to be bred, to be filled up. Your insides practically screaming at the constant assault from his cock rubbing and stimulating them just right, your mind tired as well you've been convincing yourself to not cum but the lack of air from the choking, the slight haze sleep to lingering and the now painful pleasure you're experiencing is now too much for you to handle.

“ ngh~ fuck! yes, oh yes.. fuck me js like that give it t’me, cum inside of me- oh— cum inside of me.”

You begged for it so sweetly, perfectly showcasing that side of you no one gets to see besides him. That slut in you that only gets brought out by him. That got his gears turning into a perfect coordination. Everything going according to his plan, he feels himself getting closer and your pussy squeezing him tighter. He had no other choice but to pull you into a kiss to hide his moans that he could no longer mask, he shoved his tongue down your throat as he cums inside of you groaning and ketting whimper filled moans leave him. Spit begins to drop down both of your chins as you literally swap saliva, it ensures to show how it connects your tongue to one another as he momentarily pulls apart and gasps for air. He was quick to grab you by the neck and pull you back into another sloppy kiss, teeth banging and foreheads leaning on one another as his thrusts still, his cock still twitching inside of you and your cunt can't help but to convulse even more causing stiffled whines to leave him.

“ f..fuck your pussy..”

A whine clearly heard from him as he pulls away again, he was overstimulating himself by trying to stay inside for you. He knew just how much you enjoyed being plugged full of cum, not allowing it to drop out just yet. He was so full that if he stayed inside and was still hard it probably wouldn't spill out.... immediately. As he pulls his soft cock out do you with a wince, you both sigh in unison. You lie your head back on the pillow that's now grazed with sweet cold air, cooling your warm and sweaty face down as you catch your breath. He however watches closely as his milky white cum slowly drops out of you, so thick and full of color. It was so much too. Unsurprising for some..

“ .....fuck baby that was..fantastic.”

Your silence and more calmed breathing was more than enough for him to know you had already passed out. However he couldn't leave you like this, all messy and dripping.....so he decided to grab whatever was near on the floor and wipe your thighs and the outside of your cunt for any of the cum that spilled out and just pulled your panties back over your cunny. He snickered at this, pulling you closer and laying down on your arm.

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mha

➥ BAKUGOU KATSUKI, IZUKU MIDORIYA, EJIROU KIRISHIMA, shinsou hitoshi, shoto todoroki + your favsᡣ𐭩

hq

➥ HINATA SHOYOU [brazilian arc], kageyama tobio, daichi sawamura, sugawara koushi, osamu miya, KUROO TETSURO, akaashi keiji + your favesᡣ𐭩