#tipsily

[eowynstwin]

If I post a blatant thirst trap will yall forgive me

[tamaharu]

hey girl just watched pacific rim and seeing that jaeger blow up made me think about how i blew it with you. i know we were compatible, and we couldve piloted that thing together if you just reset the clock and gave me one last chance to get in the drift. if you let me unsheath my sword i coulda circled your rim and busted in your breach. you dont have to respond.

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

thinking about tipsy trent/tedependent again (after seeing some of my old posts here and here) and like, i've got two different fics where they hook-up while drunk but i'm Still Thinking About It. specifically i am thinking about trent, tipsy and instantly thrilled to see ted (trent, aloof and cold and standoffish journalist, upon seeing ted lasso while even slightly tipsy: [immediately turning into the human embodiment of ":D!!!!"] TED!!!) and being just drunk enough to start flirting. terribly. luckily for him ted finds it to be incredibly endearing (and if part of him is secretly, guiltily a little flattered that trent is just so pleased to see him, let alone that trent wants him so earnestly--well that's fine) and. god. should they be having irresponsible tipsy sex while trent's still a journalist? absolutely not. is it even likely in canon? no. do i care? also no, BAM, fate aligns just right where trent's drunk enough to actually flirt with ted, ted's drunk enough to flirt back, and this somehow ends up with one of them in the other's bed and there's sloppy making out which turns into clumsy giggly drunk sex which turns into sleepy cuddling which turns into waking up the next morning like Oh Fuck.

[userarmand]

so since you watched Portofino and I'm currently going through season 2 (I'm on episode 3) (please don't ask why, the pull that man has on me is truly unfathomable, my dick has led me places etc etc ANYWAY) and I need to talk to someone about it bc I feel like I'm going a bit insane, so I thought I could ask your thoughts on this.

so like, season 1 wasn't like... good... right? like we're all aware of that and I'm fully aware the entire series is built on what I'm gonna call at best shoddily constructed narrative cohesion and probably can't be watched without a huge amount of suspension of disbelief, but I simply can't believe they let this insane mess of a storyline just go to production like that. WHY are these people letting a pacifist doctor join in on the assassination??? WHY is Gianluca suddenly so gungho about Nish either joining in his resistance fight OR straight up leaving him for Lucian??? WHAT IS HAPPENING in that goddamn group of resistance fighters??? IS it a group or are those just four guys who don't have anything better to do??? WHY IS THE WEAPON OF CHOICE A HAND GRENADE?? again WHY ARE WE LETTING THE PACIFIST BE PART OF THIS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, VIOLENT SITUATION?? you don't bring someone to the shooting range unless you KNOW he can pull the trigger!! he's a DOCTOR, he's the guy that stays behind so that when you guys come back from trying to beat up fascist there is someone there who knows how to patch you up!!!

and worse than all of that!!! is that I can't believe they couldn't come up with something better to put Nish out of commission than this bullshit bit of conflict that they literally fabricated out of thin air!!!

also, there is one glaring continuity error during the first scene in Turin where Nish and Gian have their 'fight' about the letter, when Nish comes in from the balcony where he wears his glasses on the balcony and then three seconds later they're nowhere to be seen. which isn't the worst thing in the world, but MAN if that doesn't summarize how invested they were in this goddamn storyline, I don't know what does.

okay, sorry for that, I'm a bit tipsy, anyway: man this shit sucks, but the worst part of all of it is truly that there are like... TRACES of a reasonably interesting story scattered across the show, but every time I think they're getting close to actually properly engaging with one of them they do a hard left and someone commits a micro aggression.

jesus fuck, this show is awful. that said I AM writing a fix it fic, which is less fix-it and more 'let's try and make this less stupid'-fic

anyway sorry for this, I... am going back to watching...

gianluca definitely didn't know what he was doing but idk if that was intentional on the writer’s part or not. his little anarchist faction was very much in its infancy considering it was literally just him, his two mates, and his extremely reluctant boyfriend. gian knew that nish's heart wasn't it, knew he didn't like conflict, literally said that's why he loved him, but basically pouted about it until nish agreed to join, at no point acknowledging the added danger nish was in as an indian national. neat.

so here we are with gian and his merry band of mugs who instead of digesting any actual communist or socialist theory, decide that blowing up some rando fascist would make any sort of difference in mussolini’s italy. nish had to be directly involved in the grenade shit so he'd get injured which would put him back in lucian’s orbit and reconnect him to the 'main' plot in portofino. the show wasn't wiling to delve fully into what exactly gian and the resistance movement were trying to achieve outside of individual terrorism so that storyline didn't really result in anything beyond establishing that fascism = bad, which, yeah we know :/

also i don't disagree that they were half-assing things but regarding the continuity of nish's glasses: he takes them off when the camera's on gian lol u can see them in his hand

[leonardcohenofficial]

if i had a nickle for every time i watched a network drama about doctors where they sang a dubious rendition of "my blue heaven" i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

[caliphoria17]

Aaliyah & Cruz playing dress-up - Part 1 | Part 2

(Requested by @kavasa16)

[cementcornfield]

omg this joemarr living arrangement confirmation I literally just started writing a fic today about them watching the broncos/chiefs game together and there’s a line about how tee couldn’t make it in the snow and I was like hmm does this make sense if they don’t live close to each other either TURNS OUT…

it works out so perfectly!!! in so many ways!!

it really is just the whole "i love you on purpose" post over and over again! everything about their relationship with each other is so Intentional. every time joe chooses to throw to ja'marr over other good options (sometimes at his own detriment whoops). every time ja'marr chooses to say that joe is the best in the league, no question, he's mvp, pat who??

joe choosing ja'marr to be drafted to the bengals when he just as easily could have had penei sewell (which may have been better for him in the long run, but you could never convince him of that fact. he wants ja'marr. he's getting ja'marr.) ja'marr choosing to wear orange on draft night, he Knew where he was going. he could play coy but he was already showing off where he would go and who he'd be with.

and now this!!! choosing to live next door to him the first go around when they were both on rookie contracts. as though, while keeping his stuff at joe's house during the move, he just so happened to be like "oh i guess this is a nice street to live on!" like joe had nothing to do with it! and we could almost believe that until whoops, it turns out, that once joe moved, he moved a few months later to the same street again!! what a coincidence :)

they drive me CRAZY!

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

//the image of Richard tipsily singing 500 Miles by the Proclaimers got stuck in my head so now you have to picture it too. That’s the rule. Sorry no takesies backsies 😌//

[starsarefire824]

Miwip Wednesday

Will pushes through the heavy wooden door, hovering in the tiled vestibule of the dive bar for just one second. He sucks a deep breath in, fingers fiddling with the pockets of his jeans as he peeks through the window of the second door. It’s dark inside, neon beer signs casting an ultraviolet glow over the Depression era bar and the beer soaked wood floors. His mind races with nervousness, apprehension, and a thousand what-ifs as he tries to spot Mike Wheeler perched on a bench in a dark corner or crouched over a beer at the bar. He brushes his hair out of his eyes and shakes his hands to loosen his shoulders, turning around in a circle with indecision. 

The truth is….he hasn’t seen Mike since the last day of summer in 1989. He remembers it like yesterday, and if he closes his eyes it’s almost as if he can still taste the honeysuckle in the air. It was hot that day, August’s last breath of warmth before Indiana’s September blew in, golden and sweet like the cherry tomatoes his mother grew on her porch. Mike’s hair stuck to his temples where it was wet and he remembers how his white tshirt was stained brown under his arms and along his collar.

They were standing along the edge of the overgrown field behind his house that was thick with warm mist, the last of the fireflies blinking like gentle beacons. Will remembers how he kept looking at the hole at the seam of his collar, how he wanted to stick his finger through it and pull, how he wanted to pull his friend to him and kiss him goodbye. He remembers the buzzing song the cicada’s sang when Mike reached out and touched him, brushed his fingers along his jaw and told him he was going to miss him when he moved East.

Will told him not to worry... he’d soon forget him; the city would swallow him up and he’d find things much more interesting to be sad about. 

[leguin]

we did volunteering and some biking together last night and at one point he said, very solemnly, 'i saw an ad for two folding bikes a while ago...i was thinking about you.' which he has also said about mountain bikes, gloves, and a cream cheese recipe he came up with recently.

[jupiterjunebug]

Danhausen devil theory can still win. Once again claimed he'd b on dynamite and wasnt, but devil was (this has happened before)

[optimisticrunawaygalaxy]

IAN

IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN

[miss-polly]

.

[byanyan]

he's literally so cute i fuckign hate it here

[tonycries]

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

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

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

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

Word count. 9.0k

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

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

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

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

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

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

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

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

Nahhh. 

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

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

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

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

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

So he does have nipple piercings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, it’s on now.”

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like, right now.

Shit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe…

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

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

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

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

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

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

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

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

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

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

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

And you didn’t mind?

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

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

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

Click!

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

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

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

This was absolute torture. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was like something snapped.

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

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

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

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

You minx.

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

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

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

“Kiss me, you fool.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smack!

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

“What was it, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

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

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

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lymtw]

Roommate!Toji

Roommate!Toji who notices that you aren't exactly a ray of sunshine when you first move in, but completely understands the reasoning behind it once you explain your situation. You had to run away from your cheating ex boyfriend, because he started acting crazy when you confronted him and broke up with him all in one go.

Roommate!Toji who, despite rarely seeing you, developed the fattest crush on you and was torn between not wanting to act like a kid in elementary school about it, but also not being extremely assertive, because he thought it might turn you off.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't get to act either way around you, because you promised him that you would make yourself as unnoticeable as possible when you're home, and that you wouldn't be an issue for him, at all. You rarely leave your room when you're home, and when you see that he's in a room you need something from, you spin on your heel and immediately retreat, not coming back out for at least half an hour to ensure that he's not there anymore.

Roommate!Toji who hates that you're actually keeping your word about this. It really is like he's still living alone, until you briefly appear when you are either heading out or getting home. It's always a quiet "hi" or "goodnight" and if he's lucky, it's, "hey, Toji" and "goodnight, Toji". Sometimes, he only gets a glance from you as you quickly stride past him to get to your room. Those nights usually come with the sounds of sniffling and stuttered deep breaths, that make Toji furrow his eyebrows through a mixture of sentiments, when he hears them outside your door.

Roommate!Toji who sees you leave your room one night, all dolled up and wearing a dangerously seductive perfume he has never smelled on you before. His posture straightens like that of an obedient dog with a treat dangling in its face, and he almost stands up to follow you to the door, but he wills himself to stay down and asks the questions that are on his mind, before you leave.

Roommate!Toji who is in awe when he hears a consistent flow of your voice answering his questions about your plans, rather than just the usual quick greeting and goodnight. It's the longest you have spoken to him since you moved in and it's the sound equivalent of drizzling honey—sweet, smooth, and pleasant. With an awkward, borderline hypnotized nod, he stops being a distracting chatterbox and lets you go with a final "Well... have fun."

Roommate!Toji who does not miss another opportunity to know what is still bringing you all this misery, when you come back looking like you had the opposite of fun. As you're about to wordlessly stroll past him, to go to your room, he stops you with a "hey" and grabs a beer from his pack, extending it towards you while patting the spot on the couch next to him. It's a whole different type of relief when you inch closer, hesitantly, but take the drink and sit where he directed you to sit.

Roommate!Toji who finds the way you start out acting timidly towards him, to be adorable. You sat where he wanted you to sit, out of politeness, but you crossed your legs and arms so that you didn't accidentally touch him. That all goes out the window when your politeness does not allow you to refuse his offering of more drinks. You open up and you relax your limbs and it's as if you don't even realize—or maybe you don't care, anymore—that your shoulder and your knee is right against his.

Roommate!Toji who listens to you ramble on, tipsily, about how your ex has been finding all kinds of ways to get in contact with you, going to the extent of making new social accounts and getting new phone numbers every time he breaks character and reveals that it's him. You look bothered as you retell the amount of times your ex has told you he's sorry and that he wants you back.

Roommate!Toji who realizes you're crying when he catches the waver in your voice as you tell him that the situation is making you miserable and that you don't know what to do, anymore. It's one of the saddest things he's ever seen. Your body is trembling from your attempt to keep your emotions contained, your lips are quivering, and you're looking down at your lap, as if you're embarrassed about being upset.

Roommate!Toji who does not hesitate to pull you in for a tight hug when you hide your face with your hands. He does not mind that you're soaking his shoulder with your tears. He comforts you by caressing the back of your head and drawing circles on your back with his palm. For a brief moment, his nose has full access to the intoxicating scent you're doused in and god, it's beautiful. So fitting for you.

Roommate!Toji who wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and keeps them dry when your tears keep flowing as you recount your history with your ex and how you found out he was cheating on you. You're breaking Toji's heart, but he's not going to stop you. With how passionately and in depth you're describing it all, it really seems like he's the first to have listened to you about the subject.

Roommate!Toji whose heart drops when you tell him that if your ex finds you, you're going to have to move, again. Immediately, he's throwing out solutions. "We can get the police involved—file a restraining order..." "Got a couple pocket knives you can have..." "I can wait for you to get off work, outside your building..."

Roommate!Toji who hasn't killed anyone in years, but knows that if thrown into a situation that required him to do so, his abilities would not be rusted. All those innocent suggestions he blurted out, were merely to provide some comfort for you and to help you begin to understand that he can help you if you tell him things. Only Toji knows that if the idiot shows up looking for you, he's getting picked off without a warning.

Roommate!Toji whose heart rate increases when you smile at him with your tired, now, unintentionally sad-looking eyes, and when you wrap your arms around him this time, he finds he doesn't want to let go of you. You smell so good and you're so warm against him. He's in a daze, with this mixture of alcohol and you.

Roommate!Toji who takes this intimate moment as an opportunity to kiss you. His lips brush your shut, unmoving ones, for a solid five seconds. Clearly, you're in shock, so your lack of reciprocation during those five seconds doesn't deter him. You caught up and melted into the affection once the surprise wore off.

Roommate!Toji who knows that despite the drinks he's had, he won't be able to forget the sounds you made when he kissed up your neck. So sweet and honeyed, that it makes his stomach do flips. He could stay there all night, just leaving wet kisses all over your neck, if it means he gets to hear you like this the entire time.

Roommate!Toji who gets his own moment of shock when you lie back on the couch and start pulling up your shirt, revealing your stomach and the bottom of your pretty bra. He doesn't touch you, regardless of how much his mouth is watering and how he's itching to feel your skin beneath his hands. He appreciates the sight and the monster in his pants definitely came to life, but this is a delicate situation. Visual cues are not enough to go off of.

Roommate!Toji who asks many times for your consent, even as you're exposing more of yourself to him and pawing at his thighs. You've both had a few drinks, and though your actions all point to you wanting to do more with him, your word is everything and more. You hear "Is this okay?" "Am I making you uncomfortable?" "Are you sure?" He only continues when every answer you give to his questions is one that corresponds with feeling safe and comfortable enough to go on.

Roommate!Toji who didn't fuck you, but made genuine, caring, spirit binding love to you. He held your hands and made sure that you were fine the entire time. Whenever you would start crying and talking about the things you thought you must have been missing in your ex's eyes for things to end up this way, Toji would kiss your tears away and hush you with quiet murmurs of, "he missed out on you, baby..." "No more crying, pretty girl. He's not worth it..." "You're perfect..." All as he rocked both of you on the couch, luring mutual, gentle pleasure, for what felt like hours.

Roommate!Toji who smothers you with soft kisses when both of you finish for the nth time. He can tell you're on the brink of falling asleep, so he quickly runs to the bathroom to grab a damp towel and comes back to clean you up a little. Once he feels you're as tidy as he can get you with a simple towel, he gets dressed and carries you to your bed. The easy part was finding some underwear and pajamas for you to wear, the not so easy part was getting the clothes on you. You were out of commission, sleeping, already, while Toji was lifting and moving your limbs, trying to get your clothes on.

Roommate!Toji who eventually gets it done and turns you onto your side. The final kiss of the night is placed on your forehead, before he leaves your room.

Roommate!Toji doesn't see or hear from you for two weeks, after that night.

Roommate!Toji thinks maybe he's just not catching you at the right times. He's been following the same schedule he made in his mind, but it seems like you aren't, anymore. When he wakes up to have his morning coffee, he doesn't see you on your way out or catch a gust of that lighter mist you normally wear, and when he's on the couch later at night, skimming the channels for whatever grabs his attention, he doesn't hear your key turning the lock, signaling that you're home, before he goes to bed.

Roommate!Toji who's driving himself crazy with all the overthinking. He hasn't seen you leave or come home for days. For all he knows, you haven't even been staying in the same house. He's unknowingly pacing around the living room, racking his brain to think of what could possibly have happened. He was inviting, he listened to you and comforted you. He was a gentleman and he treated you with the delicacy of someone who's in love. Those feelings shouldn't have been lured out so easily by someone he barely sees—barely knows—but they were, and with you hiding from him, he's left to just suck it up and deal with it.

Roommate!Toji who after a few days of pretending to be stoic and careless about you not being around, feels like a loser as he waits for you to come home one night, like some loyal dog. He plans to stay up until he sees you, again, even if you don't come home until four, five, or six in the morning. He's tired of this heavy feeling in his chest that he shouldn't be feeling at all. He knows he did nothing wrong, but, clearly, there are things to talk about if something scared you off.

Roommate!Toji who hears the familiar sound of the only other key to the house, turning the lock, at two forty-five in the morning. As soon as he gets a look at your tired, pretty face, his blood starts boiling. When you simply say "goodnight" and try to walk away like you normally do, he stops you with a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Almost instantly, he becomes aware of how scary the restraining gesture must be to you and lets go.

Roommate!Toji notices the extra tiredness on your face. Not just the 'almost three in the morning' tiredness, but the 'haven't gotten good sleep in a while' tiredness, as well. The bags under your eyes are prominent and your eyes are lidded, like you're fighting to keep them open. He wonders if you're really losing so much sleep just to avoid him.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't stay wondering and asks you every single question he's had about you going around him these past two weeks. He doesn't accept your quick responses and variations of simply being busy. How did you suddenly get so busy once you saw each other naked? It's a pretty big coincidence.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't have the heart to talk to you in a stern manner to express the awful feelings he's had for the last couple weeks. Not when you look so pitifully exhausted, like you're about to drop any second. He lets you go, with the condition being that the conversation will be picked up again the next day. He sees the hesitance on your face, like it's something you don't want to pick up, again, but you agree, anyway, and head off to your room.

Roommate!Toji stays up in bed for a little while longer, wondering about many things regarding you. Will you keep your word and follow through with the conversation in the morning, or will you be gone before he wakes up, again? What made things weird? Why did you make yourself completely invisible as opposed to keeping things the way they were before?

Roommate!Toji whose mind begins to wander when he starts thinking of your pretty face. Even with all the fatigue that currently litters your features, you're gorgeous and flashbacks of that night come to mind. The gloominess on your face when you came home from your time out, the sadness that showed itself as you let him in on a difficult part of your life, and then the hopeful look on your face when he offered to help you. It was the equivalent of a beautiful sunrise, and he would, undoubtedly, kiss you, again, if he were given a chance to redo that moment.

Roommate!Toji who feels pathetic when the front of his boxer briefs start feeling tighter, just at the thought of your face. Though, your expressions were all pretty, that night, they weren't all innocent. He can vividly picture your orgasm face and the sounds that came with it. It's enough for him to impatiently kick off his boxers and use all those images and thoughts of you to alleviate the pressure he's feeling below.

Roommate!Toji whose shame only comes from the fact that he's doing this at three-something in the morning, while you're two rooms down the hall, hopefully, recovering from your lack of sleep. His shame quickly loses its prominence when all the thoughts of you and the stroking motions of his hand cloud his mind. You were the softest, most delicate thing, and every touch, kiss, and more, called for the sweetest croons from you. It truly was a reward whenever his name made it past your lips, in that honeyed voice he can't get enough of. He got to locate the source of that perfume on your skin that makes him feral and he drowned in the loudness of its ambrosial notes.

Roommate!Toji who is unaware of how loud he's being. He thinks he's doing a good job of stifling his sounds, but it's all futile when he reaches his peak and releases all the uncontrolled stuttered breaths and groans. Deep voiced expletives are the only words he can mutter through the euphoric feeling, because your name can't be thrown into his perverted activity. At least not when you're home. Once he blinks open his eyes, and comes down from his post-orgasm haze, he cleans himself up with his boxers and goes to sleep butt naked. He's too tired to get up and change, and it would be pointless since he's going to shower when he gets up, anyway.

Roommate!Toji who leaves his room a few hours later in the morning—after showering, of course—and is surprised to see you sitting at the table on your phone. You look like you're ready to head out for the day, but you're there, as promised, with a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. He finds it funny how long it takes for you to notice he's standing there, but when you do see him, you greet him as you normally do, and this time, you stay. He accepts your offering of coffee and sits in the chair next to you, ready to dive into this possibly awkward conversation.

Roommate!Toji who does not expect you to start out by apologizing, profusely, saying you didn't mean to make it seem like he did something wrong and that you didn't know how to go about seeing him the next day, after everything. He hears you out as you reassure him that your consent for that night stands and that you were fine the morning after. You looked nervous the entire time, like you were expecting him to lash out on you for what you chose to do, instead of just talking to him.

Roommate!Toji takes his part in reassuring you as well. He lets you know that he's not upset with you, anymore, and that when he was, it was out of concern for the amount of time that had gone by without a single notice of you being okay after that night. He reminds you that you have his number, and that anything you don't feel comfortable telling him in person, you could always tell him through text or on the phone, yet, you didn't do either one of those things, and that only further added to his worry of having possibly wronged you in some way.

Roommate!Toji who gets an in depth explanation for why you avoided him, and it's unfortunately rooted to the man who hurt you, emotionally and mentally. You explain that you don't fear commitment, but it's hard to trust people enough to get close. You tell him that he's the first to have seen you in such a vulnerable state since your ex and it was scary to know that you offered such an intimate part of yourself to someone who possibly saw it as just something to simply derive pleasure from. He understood when you elaborated and said that you don't know him well enough and you don't know his intentions, so you figured it was best to keep your distance, before you put yourself into a situation that would leave you feeling like you're being used.

Roommate!Toji who takes what you said into consideration, but also takes advantage of how jittery he feels after finishing his coffee and just sitting there, to admit that he likes you and that he would like to get to know you. His leg is bouncing under the table, but he's definitely not nervous... It's just the caffeine and its weird effect.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't feel the slightest bit disappointed when you tell him that you should get to know each other as friends, first. It kind of stings, considering how much he thinks about you, and he definitely can't pretend like he hasn't seen the body under your clothes, but he's determined to prove that he likes you. If that means more nights spent comforting you when the self doubt starts gnawing at you, again, and assuring you countless times that nothing will ever threaten your safety, then so be it.