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synopsis: after a regretful, heated moment with the jjk men, you have an awkward conversation the next morning about last night’s shenanigans
characters/parings (all fem reader): nerdjo! x popular girl, cultleader!geto x cult member, corporateboss!nanami x employee, brokie!toji x rich girl, brothersbsf!choso x friends little sister, and boxer!sukuna x shy girl
warnings: crack, mentions of sex, suggestive, megumi’s au is the sorcerer world, profanity, teasing, sexual tension, forbidden romance, relationship not established, and pet names.
a/n: send requests pls!! it means a lot if u interact :>
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a/n: i hope everyone has/had an amazing new years celebration!! may the new year bring the best to you all. love u all xoxo 💋 also HUGEE thanks to the people that interact with my posts and comment. it means so so much to hear ur voices! sorry if there’s grammatical errors- wrote this at 3 am….
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Nanami: “Honey, did you pack your jacket?” Kento calls out as he hurriedly shuts the trunk of your car. You were heading to your hometown to celebrate new years with your family, and your lovely boyfriend Kento had decided to tag along this year too. Your plans to leave had been delayed due to black ice on the road, but everything was back on track and you were ready to leave. It was around 8 in the morning on the 31st when you hurriedly began your road trip. It was all Kento driving, despite your small protests about him needing rest and how he’d be too tired to be present during the get-together your family was hosting. But what kind of boyfriend would Kento be if he made his pretty girl lift a finger. You arrived rather quickly due to the traffic mostly clearing up, and as you stepped into a home decorated and more lively than anywhere you’d been in a while, you breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were home. Kento gifts a bottle of wine to your parents and is swept away with your dad who excitedly asks him a wide plethora of questions alongside his intentions with you. You help string up more decorations (who knew that was possible) and set aside some props for the photo booth. After a while, the rest of your extended family arrives and you all get comfortable for your family movie that you watch every year. You snuggle up against Kento, his warmth hotter than any furnace, and you breathe in his cologne. He had been so welcoming upon meeting your family (which could be a bit much) and you swear, it made you fall even deeper in love. The countdown was magical- you all had your new years hats on with the ball drop playing on your tv. “5-4-3-2-1 HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone yells as Kento sweeps you into a sweet (and totally appropriate-family friendly kiss). “I love you, darling. Every year with you makes me wish we had forever. No time I could spend with you will ever be enough, but let this year be another to add to many more to come…” Kento whispers. And as you look up at him, his eyes brighter than ever before, you see your future bright and clear.
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Toji: “I swear to fucking god.” You’re on your last nerve and Toji, who should be ready by now, is half dressed and snoring on your couch. Your extremely broke boyfriend, who takes on several shady ass jobs, had SOMEHOW managed to save enough for a trip to New York to see the ball drop in person. Why he would book the tickets before paying off his rent (that you ended up doing btw) was the exact question you had asked yourself. But who cared honestly. You had only ever seen it on tv and you were beyond excited to be there with Toji. New York had always been your dream, something you thought you could never see. You had arrived in New York last night and you were going to be late unless Toji FINALLY woke up and decided to get ready on time for once. “TOJI-,” you begin to yell but are briefly cut off by a pair of large, warm hands sliding over your waist. Toji’s warm breath sends goosebumps down your neck as you turn to meet his eyes. He’s standing there, fully dressed, with the world’s smuggest look on his face. “Don’t know why you’re yelling, doll. I’ve been ready.” He says, kissing your temple. Your brows furrow as you begin to head out- him hot at your tail. Your arrival at Time Square was nothing short of chaotic. The crowd and sheer amount of people takes you aback. Toji instinctively wraps an arm around you, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He protectively shields you from the crowd as you secure a spot. Small problem. You. The man that so happened to stand in front of you was a damn giant, and you could hardly see anything. It was honestly embarrassing. But you didn’t even have to say anything before you find yourself being lifted by Toji and sat upon one of his shoulders- his arms secured across your lap. Because that was the thing with Toji, no matter how much of a loser your egotistical, broke ass boyfriend could be. He cared. And he tried so hard to make sure you had everything you wanted and needed, even if it wasn’t always possible. As the crowd counts down the last seconds of the year, it’s hard to even look at the ball as it begins to drop. You thought this trip was everything you’d ever wanted, but the man who did everything to bring you here was so much better.
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Gojo: Satoru somehow had the amazing idea of throwing a new year’s party here at Jujutsu Tech. What better way to celebrate the end of an amazing year than surrounded by all his students and you. At first, you had been reluctant. It was so much planning and soooo much work. But once you saw the excitement and buzz in the air regarding this party, you knew it was too late to back down. 5 sleepless nights before December 31st had landed you here: at one of the most epic parties Jujutsu Tech (and Kyoto Metropolitan since they were obvi invited) could ever throw. You had Nanami make sure that everything was appropriate and that no one snuck anything in that would land you and Satoru in trouble from the higher ups. You spent the whole day surrounded in laughter and by the time it was 11, you were exhausted from being the world’s perfect host all night. You step outside the party hall, feet aching as you slip your heels off and slouch onto a nearby bench. But of course, your boyfriend with crippling separation anxiety comes following you out a few seconds later and plops down next to you. “You know, Toru, I don’t know how you do it.” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Do what, my little mochi?” He asks. “What did you just call m- okay forget that. I mean stay so positive. It’s like, no matter how tired or exhausted you are- you always put up this perfect front that the students all admire so much.” you mumble. “One day, everything was normal, and the next I was ripped away from my parents and introduced to the world of jujutsu. I was a kid. But I was never given a childhood. I want these kids to have a childhood. They’re risking their life as it is, fighting pure evil that doesn’t belong in our world. No one deserves to have that ripped away from them like I did. No one deserves to feel like a weapon and nothing more.” Satoru’s face grows serious- something that happened very rarely. “Toru, I didn’t- I’m sorry for bringing this up I didn’t want ruin the mood.” He smiles sadly. “You can’t ever ruin anything, only make things better.” You smile at his cheesy one liner before finishing what you were trying to say. “Toru i admire you so much yk that. it’s more than just my love for you as a person. It’s everything you do and everything you stand for. I’ve never met someone as selfless as you.” You kiss him slowly. His lips move against yours, soft and unwavering. “5-4-3-2-1 HAPPY NEW YEAR!” You hear people yell inside. “Oh my god- Toru we missed the countdown.” You whine. He laughs softly before pulling you up with him and resting his chin on your head. His hands find your waist as he softly says, “Who cares about the countdown when you’re the moment I wanted to start the year with anyways.”
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Geto: You were at home, just how Suguru liked it. No big crowds. No noisy people. And no stress- just you and him and him and you. You both had gone a little overboard on wine and were now tangled with each other, occasionally hiccuping out sheer nonsense. “Sugu, you know, when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a pop star.” You manage to slur out. “Hmm is that so.”You don’t respond for a minute, slightly turned on by the way his voice sounds so laid back and soft for once. “You know why I gave up on that dream? Cuz i couldn’t dance.” you say gloomily. You lean back, looking up at his face- illuminated from the sliver of moonlight peeping out from your living room curtains. “I can dance,” he says, “here why don’t i teach you.” He fumbles up, dragging you with him. He grabs your arms and god knows what you’re doing, because it definitely isn’t dancing. You sway with no rhythm or tempo, there isn’t even any music. The only beat you hear is Suguru’s heartbeat. Your head rests against his chest as you both sway around, the moonlight shining in. One thing leads to a next and you find yourself tripping on on your own feet. You land on the carpeted floor, suguru right by your side. “I loveee you so much you know that.” you hiccup as you profoundly confess him. “You’ve told me, my angel. But i love hearing it anyways. I love you too.” he mumbles back into your ear, kissing your cheeks softly. You stay like that for a second, not realizing as the clock ticks closer to another year. Laying on the floor, in each other arms, who would’ve thought that in your guys’s eyes, it was the perfect way to celebrate another year together. A break for once, from anything but each other.
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Sukuna: You awaken to a bloodied note, in Uruame’s handwriting mind you, signed off by Ryo reading: “My apologies for not being present during this measly celebration your kind partakes in called the ‘New Years.’ No year is big enough to leave a dent on me, however may your future be full of myself and whatever you may please for.” This bastard. You sigh. Hey, at least he left you flowers right?!
.ೃ࿔*:･ Cowboy Choso, and the girl from the bar who gives him more than he bargained for.
more like this here
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Cowboy!Choso, who’s so awkward the first time he meets you, dips his hat politely and tries desperately hard to look away from the cleavage peeking out from your pretty dress.
Cowboy!Choso, who watches with half lidded eyes from the bar as you spin around in your layered skirts, fabric whirling in perfect sync with your tapping boots to the fiddle in the background.
Cowboy!Choso, who joins you on the floor the week after, twirls you around with a laugh; who picks you up by your waist with firm hands and stronger arms that have you flushing.
Cowboy!Choso, who you thank appreciatively for the evening and lean up to benignantly kiss his cheek with soft lips and attentive ears that catch him whine under his breath. He doesn’t even realise he did.
Cowboy!Choso, who thanks you again for the dance and very respectfully tips the brim of his hat down- who, decidedly not very respectfully, has to sneak off somewhere quiet to moan into his hand while his other erratically pumps his cock to the mere memory of your mouth.
Cowboy!Choso, who accidentally cums all over his boots and can’t even be mad about it- you were just so pretty, soft, squeezing his hand as he twirled you around and completely unaware of what the brief glimpse down your dress did to him.
Cowboy!Choso, who inelegantly saunters up to you at the bar the following weekend-after one (or several) shots of cheap whiskey for courage- and bluntly asks you “you, uh.. you wanna get out of here?”
Cowboy!Choso, who feels an unfamiliarly sharp pang deep in his chest when you look back at him on the way out of the bar, hair messed by the warm wind and skirts flowing in the breeze like something sent just for him to see.
Cowboy!Choso, who didn’t think you’d be so immediately enamoured with his shabby ranch; he watches you walk up the pebbled path, sandy boots kicking up puffs of dirt as you go. The evening sun catches your eyes just right; he thinks they’re sparkling and beautiful and his heart hurts.
Cowboy!Choso, who quickly realises you weren’t just excited about the ranch when you shove him with one hand down onto his couch, straddle him with the warm thighs he’s been dreaming about- being forced to dig his short nails into your hips, lest he buck up.
Cowboy!Choso, who moans frenziedly into your collarbone, slips the cotton of your dress down your front to expose your tits; who buries his face in them indulgently, yearningly, and ignores the breathless laugh that comes from your mouth.
Cowboy!Choso, who also ignores the way he immediately twitches in his jeans when you start to breathily say his name, grind your hips lovingly across his bulge.
Cowboy!Choso, who lets you ride him stupid right there on the couch. He mouths mindlessly at your satiny flesh, groaning with long dark hair coming undone from his two buns, plastering to his face; who ruts into you on instinct, the sounds of skin on skin echoing around the room.
Cowboy!Choso, who gapes up at your smugly smiling face when you slowly reach above him to place his hat onto your head; who then promptly cums, messily thrusting up into your cunt, when you grin lopsidedly down at him like he isn’t stretching you out from the inside.
Cowboy!Choso, who doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you, and spends the rest of the night- and a little into the next day, too- fucking you on every available surface until he can’t do anything but rut senselessly into your now leaking pussy with loud, broken moans and “thank you”s.
Cowboy!Choso, who wakes you the next morning with a gentle forehead kiss and watches the sun bleed clementine into the room over your messy hair, face pressed into his chest, then dozes off again with his bulky arms wrapped snugly around you.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
a/n: how would you guys feel about me turning this into a fully fledged fic..?
[ TAGS ] ▸ f!reader. sfw. strictly fluff. some rule breaking. established relationships.
GOJO SATORU — “Shh, stop talking” you slap your hand over gojo’s grin. You should pinch him, but he’ll dramatically groan and it’ll blow your cover. You press harder and strain your ears to hear the footsteps get further. “Ah Lear?” “Huh?” Gojo gently grabs your wrist and pulls it back. “All clear?” He repeats. You nod, even though you’re just as paranoid if not more. “We aren’t gonna get caught,” Gojo murmurs against your palm, his breath sending tingles down your back. You don’t believe him. “Baby.” he reassures, kissing up your palm to the tips of your fingers. He doesn’t stop until your shoulders ease and you let out a sigh. He cups the back of your neck, and pulls you down to his warm chest. “Relax baby. I’ll leave when you fall asleep, they won’t see me.”
YUJI ITADORI — You’re lying in your bed, aimlessly scrolling when you hear a clacking noise. At first you think nothing of it until you hear it again…and again. It’s coming from your window. Your heart speeds up as you hesitantly make your way across your small space. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see pink hair but you suck it back in when you see your boyfriend struggling to hold himself up on the ledge of your window. You hurriedly flip the latch and open it. “Babe!” You hiss. Yuji tumbles onto your floor before springing up. “Babe!” He laughs, hoisting you up by the armpits. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you and he spins you around. “What are you doing here silly?” You ask when he puts you down. “I can’t miss you?” He whispers in your ear. “Y-you can but, you know, maybe not at three in the morning.” You slap his chest when he nuzzles his nose into your ear. “I just really wanted a kiss from my girlfriend, gimme a kiss?”
CHOSO KAMO — You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You were explicitly told your boyfriend couldn’t spend the night. But as you pulled him to your room, carefully concealing your steps you knew it was right—at least it was in your heart. You rest your forehead on the door and wait until you’re sure nobody’s caught you before you turn the lock. Choso’s hands come up to your waist, his back folding against yours. You lean back into him when he kisses your temple. “I can’t believe you snuck me into your room.” You can’t believe it either. “Am I corrupting you, princess?” You roll your eyes and push away from him. He grins and leans his back against the door. You think maybe he’s a little bit scared too. You bite your lip and rock on your heels. You don’t know what to do, you’ve never snuck someone in let alone invited a boy into your room. Choso lifts your chin with his index finger, breaking your trance. “When did you get over here?” You whisper. “When you were stuck in that beautiful head of yours.” “I-I don’t know what to do.” You admit. He just smiles and pulls you to your made up bed. “How ‘bout we cuddle, hm?” You let him push you down. “That’s all?” “Cuddle. That’s all. Promise.”
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bestfriend!choso who always takes you home with him
thinking about bestfriend!choso who, without a doubt, takes you back to his after every party the two of you attend.
he sits in the same spot all night, legs spread wide and beer in hand, waiting for you to come over and whisper the words that he wants to hear. it happens the same way every time.
you’d break away from your friends, telling them you’re thinking of heading home. the girls would exchange looks, knowing you’re going to choso, the boy you swear is just your best friend. the boy you swear gets you like no other.
tonight is no different. as you make your way through the sea of sweaty bodies to him, choso locks his gaze on you the second you emerge from the dense crowd. he shifts on the couch, anticipating you pressing your warm body into his strong side, waiting for the moment your arms wrap around his neck and say the words he’s been waiting to hear.
“i’m tired,” you whisper into his neck. he smiles lazily. those are the same two words that get you tucked up in his bed every time. not that he wouldn’t let you stay every night if you’d just ask. not that you aren’t there most nights anyway. those two words have blurred the line between friendship and something more since the start. his hand slides up your back, pulling you closer against him. choso can’t keep his hands to himself, he cups your cheek with one hand whilst the other begins to draw soothing circles into your back. god, he wants to kiss you.
he leans down, lips brushing your ear, “wanna get outta here?” he murmurs. you pull away to look at him, eyes searching his face. he’s so handsome it hurts. for the girl insisting your relationship is platonic, you sure do have a hard time not checking him out. and without a thought, you nod at him. that’s all it takes, he’s on his feet and slipping his hand into yours. he doesn’t even tell anyone that he’s leaving. he doesn’t need to, not when his favourite girl is coming with him.
and that’s how you end up in his clothes, in his bed, every time. he holds you against his chest, stroking your hair whilst you sober up from the night. his room smells of weed, incense, and his cologne. but you love it, truly. being in choso’s bed, wrapped in his arms and drowning in his scent, feels like home. and if you’d just say the words, he’d make it your home officially.
notes: this is the first thing i’ve ever written, feedback is greatly appreciated. keep it kind though, i’ll cry otherwise.
𑣿 gojo satoru - he’s spinning his sunglasses on one finger, teasing you about his costume options. “what should i be this halloween, hmm? something irresistible?” you hum. “my husband.” his grin falters just a little, blue eyes gleaming. “oh?” he drawls, stepping closer. “that’s dangerous, sweetheart.” halloween night, he appears in a perfectly fitted black suit, blindfold swapped for a silky tie. he holds up a plastic ring, winking. “look, i committed to the role,” he says, smug. “now all that’s missing is the honeymoon.”
𑣿 nanami kento - he’s reading at the kitchen table when you ask if he’s going to dress up. “i suppose I could,” he murmurs, not looking up. “what should i be?” you smile. “my husband.” his pen stills. he exhales softly, adjusting his glasses to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “that’s quite the costume,” he says calmly, but there’s warmth in his eyes. halloween evening, he knocks on your door in a clean suit with a gold ring on his hand. “i decided to try your idea,” he says. “though I admit, it felt surprisingly right.”
𑣿 fushiguro megumi - he’s scrolling his phone when he mumbles, “what should i even be for halloween?” you answer without looking up. “my husband.” his phone slips from his hand, thudding on the couch. “what—why—?” he sputters, cheeks instantly pink. “that’s not—” he can’t even finish. halloween night, he shows up in a black button-up and simple silver ring, pretending not to care. “it’s not a big deal,” he mutters, face burning. “you said it, so… yeah.”
𑣿 itadori yuji - he’s knee-deep in pumpkin guts, sleeves rolled up, grinning when he asks, “what should i be for halloween?” you glance over the mess and say, “my husband.” the way he freezes, knife still in mid-air, is priceless. “wait—wha—ME?!” his ears turn bright pink, and he nearly drops the carving knife. “you can’t just say that!” he laughs nervously, scratching his neck. later, when you open the door for trick-or-treaters, he’s standing there in a simple suit and holding out a fake ring box. “um,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed. “figured i’d… commit to the bit.”
𑣿 inumaki toge - you’re sorting candy when he suddenly asks, “costume?” you look up and say, “my husband.” his eyes widen just slightly before his mouth quirks up. “salmon,” he murmurs softly. his version of a blush. on halloween night, he shows up wearing a white shirt, tie loose around his neck, and a little ring hanging from a thread. “tuna mayo,” he says when you stare at it—translation: you’re the one who started this. you swear his eyes are smiling the entire night.
𑣿 okkotsu yuta - he’s helping hang decorations, tangled in string lights when he laughs, “what should i be this year?” you grin. “my husband.” he freezes so fast the lights flicker. “w-what?” he stammers, turning red to the tips of his ears. “i—uh—” he doesn’t recover for a full minute. later, at the party, he’s wearing a black blazer with a small silver ring on a chain around his neck. “you said husband,” he murmurs shyly. “so i thought i’d try… being yours for the night.”
𑣿 fushiguro toji - he’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, smirking. “what should i be for halloween?” he asks, voice low and teasing. you meet his gaze. “my husband.” the smirk falters for just a beat before returning sharper. “bold of you to say that out loud, sweetheart.” he laughs, deep and rough. come halloween night, he shows up in a crisp black shirt with a fake gold ring on his hand. “see?” he says, lifting it lazily. “went all in on the costume.” but when you look closer, you realize it’s not plastic, but real. he just smirks. “guess i upgraded it.”
𑣿 choso kamo - he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting candy into neat piles. “what should i be for halloween?” he asks softly. “my husband,” you reply. he blinks up at you, expression unreadable for a moment. then his cheeks flush pink. “that’s… not really a costume,” he murmurs, voice shy. still, that night, he appears at your door in a dark button-up, a handmade ring made of red string on his finger. “it’s not perfect,” he says quietly, smiling just a little, “but it’s yours.”
𑣿 ryomen sukuna - he’s lounging in your living room like he owns it when he says, “what pathetic costume should I wear this year?” you shoot back, “my husband.” the grin that spreads across his face is pure danger. “my, my,” he purrs, standing to his full height. “aren’t you a brave little thing?” halloween arrives and he’s shirtless with a dark jacket, his tattoos on full display, a ring carved from bone on his finger. “you said husband,” he murmurs, leaning close enough that his breath ghosts over your neck. “i don’t do half-measures.”
── .✦ SYNOPSIS…your ex friends with benefits, choso, calls you up late one night only to be transferred to your voice mail. Well, now you have one new message
── .✦ INFO…ex fwb!choso, pining, masturbation, jealously, edging, overstim, riding, choking, slight angst, crying (both pleasure and sadness), lots of cursing, not proofread
── .✦ OTHER…likes and reblogs are appreciated
choso calls you late in the night after months of no contact. The phone rings and rings until he’s eventually transferred to voicemail. The beep rings in his ears, a long, ragged breath the first thing that leaves his mouth. “H-hey,” he shakily says, “I know you probably don’t wanna hear from me but,” he pauses, eyes dropping to the bulge forming in his sweats, “I’ve been thinking about you…like…a lot.” He gulps, eyes slowly blinking as he slides his hand into the band of his sweats, palming at his semi-hard cock.
His lip is caught between his teeth, heart beating rapidly against his chest as he begins to second guess why he’s even doing this. “I was just thinking about all the things we used to do, you know?” He scoffs. “All the fun we used to have together. Just me and you—mmph.” His eyes squeeze shut, his dick pulsating against his hand, confined by the fabric of his boxers. He pulls them down just enough to free his dick, cock springing out and lying against his chiseled stomach.
He holds the phone to his ear, other hand lazily stroking his needy cock, nothing but you on his mind. Even if you don’t listen to this, just the off chance that you might is enough to get him going. Beads of pre cum form at his swollen red tip, using his thumb to smear it over his length. “Ahhh…fuck, baby. I miss you. I fucking miss you,” he whimpers, followed by shaky breaths. “God, but I wanna hate you so fucking bad.” He grits his teeth, hand squeezing around his base tighter, making his stomach clench.
“You,” he gulps, “you ghosted me. Straight up left me. Ignored me. After all those dates, all the money I spent on you, all of the sex, and the pillow talk that came after…I should fucking hate you…but—mmmph fuckkkk—I can’t!” He sucks in a sharp breath, throwing his back on the soft pillow beneath him. “You played with my feelings, baby. You had me hooked on you like some kinda drug. Just like right now.” He clenches his jaw, nostrils flaring as he speeds up his movements, from base to tip, long and fast strokes.
“It’s been months and I can’t get you out of my head. Why? You got me going crazy, you know that? Listen.” He takes the phone away from his ear, putting it closer to where you can hear the slick, sticky sound of him jerking his throbbing cock. “You hear that? That’s what you do to meeeeahhhh fuck I’m already close….shit, shit, no, no I gotta stop.” He quickly takes his hand away, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, licking his lips while he watches the way it twitches on its own.
“Why’d you leave me, baby? I thought we could work out. I always imagined it, and I know you did too. You’d be a fucking liar to say no.” He reaches his hand down, cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. “Got bored of me and found some new guy? Is that it? Your new boyfriend. I saw him on your profile. Looks like a fucking loser,” he bitterly chuckles, feeling like his chest was caving in, jealously rushing through him every time he thought about it. “I hate him,” he groans, fingers slowly wrapping back around his sensitive cock, squeezing gently.
“Does he let you use him how you like? I know you remember that one time in my apartment. That one night you were riding me—ahhh, my god.” His eyes roll back at the thought, his hand moving at the same speed you were that night, so fast, so rough, just slamming down on him. He bites his lip, choked whimpers escaping from his throat. “You…ah…you were riding me, using my cock like a fucking dildo, squeezing around me so tight! I came so hard inside you that it was leaking out, making a mess all over—nnngh—and…you kept riding me, wrapping your hands around my neck and telling me to take it like a good boy,” he whimpered, loud moans echoing into the phone. “That evil look in your eye while you just smiled down at me—shitttt, I can’t get that outta my head.”
His jaw is slack, eyes rolled back as continues to pump his cock at the exact pace, replaying that night over and over in his head, imagining your tight, wet cunt milking him dry, your sultry voice whispering in his ear, praising him. “You fucking ruined me! I wanna hate you so fucking bad! You fucking messed with head! Told me you wanted me and only me! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” He on the verge of tears from both pleasure and heartbreak, tears brimming his eyes as his voice breaks, raspy and soft at the same time.
“Oh my god,” he moans, voice cracking, “oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum! Baby! Yes, yes, yes.” His breathing becomes quickened, eyes squeezed shut. “Ah, ah, I’m cumming! I’m cumminggggfuckkk!” His thighs are left trembling, thick ropes of white shooting all over his chest and abs as he continues pumping, getting every last drop like he knows you’d want him to. “Mmmmmpph!” He squeezes his eyes shut, heavy, ragged breaths as he tries to gather himself.
He sits there for a minute or two, feeling completely lightheaded, throat dry and he thickly gulps. “Fuck me,” he whispers to himself, looking down at the mess he left. “I…I’m sorry for this. I…” He shuts his mouth, running a hand down his face. “I’m just sorry. You don’t have to call me back. You don’t have to do anything, okay? Goodbye, y/n.”
𐙚˙⋆.˚ Pornstar!Choso with his nymphomaniac girlfriend as well as partner on camera always hit numbers that no one in the industry could. He'd have your legs pushed down for HOURS, fucking you exactly in way that would get you two your paycheck, maybe even beyond that. The director is tired of you two going off the script and instructions—simply delving into each other as if there was nothing but you two in this world. Choso had you pushed down on your front, pressing all his weight on top of you, the heat of your body vibrantly buzzing through as he slammed his hips to hit deeper, his tip kissing your probably bruised cervix.
"Baby..yes.. you're clenching me so hard..please do it harder.." He whimpered almost pathetically at how addictive your pussy was—leaving his abdomen burning and his cock sore; a grunt left your lips followed by consecutive wanton moans as you clenched around him tighter, turning your head slightly so you could see his handsome face all ecstatic, strands of his ivory black hair covering it which somehow made it even hotter. A sense of power rushed through you, only making your honeyed walls wetter. "Fuck me harder..claim me..claim this pussy.." you chanted against his lips and it was as if he went in a spell, immediately releasing a load of hot sticky ropes, the mere sensation of it making you come undone.
Just when you were about to ride your poor, overstimulated and fucked raw boyfriend again, pushing him onto the mattress with your inner thighs painted with his cum, the director interrupted, clearing his throat, in a straight indication to stop.
"you don't get paid extra for fucking extra, got it?" To which you simply shrugged your shoulders, taking him again as you were meant to and Choso wouldn't want it any other way.
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🜼 ⋆ first time fratbf!choso learns you can squirt, he can’t seem to stop abusıng your cunt.
he doesn’t find out because of porn or bragging—he finds out by accident. you’d been grinding on him during some dumb afterparty in his room, shirts sticky with cheap beer, your laughter muffled in his throat when his thumb brushed over you too roughly through your shorts. you’d been teasing him, calling him “baby frat” under your breath because he never actually partied like the rest, and he’d retaliated with this clumsy, desperate pressure between your thighs. the sound you made—it wasn’t your usual.
sharper, shocked, cut off halfway like you didn’t even know it was coming. then suddenly you were wet, soaked beyond reason, dripping down his forearm before you shoved him back and gasped, wide-eyed, face burning.
he stared at you like he’d unlocked a secret level. and that was it. from then on, choso couldn’t stop.
in the days that followed, he cornered you in ways that weren’t even normal boyfriend things anymore. in his car parked behind the frat house, hood pulled low so no one would glance in, fingers pumping you open until your thighs trembled against the dash, until you slapped at his wrist and begged for him to slow down. he’d grunt, “just one more—just once more,” even though it was never once. the seatbelt strap was damp by the time he was done, your voice breaking as liquid gushed against the leather.
he’d lick his knuckles after, shaking, pupils blown, muttering how fucking crazy it was that you could do that for him, only for him.
then in his room, on a wednesday when nobody was supposed to be around, he’d drag you onto his mattress, sheets already stained from the night before, and refuse to let you up. it wasn’t mean exactly, but it was relentless. his hands shaking while he spread you wide and made you watch the mess splatter across his comforter, moaning through his teeth every time your stomach jumped under his palm.
he’d push your hand down, press it against the swell just above your pelvis while he shoved his cock deeper, whispering in that gravelly, half-ashamed voice, “feel that? that’s me—fuck, that’s all me—” until you were sobbing and shaking your head. the headboard banged so loud the guys in the hall teased him for days, but he didn’t care. didn’t even answer back.
by the weekend, it turned into something darker—an addiction that made him clumsy in public. his arm slung over you at a mixer, his lips against your ear: can we leave? just for a second? promise it won’t take long. dragging you into the bathroom, locking the door with fumbling hands, and pushing your panties aside just to chase it again.
his face between your thighs this time, nose pressed hard into you, drinking down everything while you gripped the sink for balance. he’d hum against your cunt when you sprayed over his tongue, messy and shaking, the sound so deep and satisfied that it made your stomach clench all over again.
he wasn’t fratboy-smooth—he was needy. pathetic. every time he made you squirt, it rewired him. his shy loser pride burned hotter. he’d whisper about it later, in your ear when you were falling asleep, about how no one else could ever have this from you. how you were made for him. his knuckles were bruised from jerking himself off when you weren’t around, frustrated because it wasn’t the same unless he could see it, feel it.
and maybe the most shameful part? he started keeping count. muttering numbers under his breath, holding up his fingers to mark every gush he forced out of you until you smacked his chest, whimpering that you couldn’t do it anymore.
he’d smile, crooked and exhausted, but still keep pushing, still rut into you with that low groan of your name, until his sheets, his hoodie, his skin—everything smelled like you. until your body felt wrung out and trembling, his loser pride swelled huge in his chest: my girlfriend. mine. mine.
cont: Choso is a quirky man that loves the arts of cooking so what happens when he meets his match; a taste tester with a delicate tongue?
pairing: choso x gen!reader
a/n: I don't celebrate Halloween but have a good one guys! I couldn't get this idea out of my head so here it is!! I'm trying to get used to describing our pov more so im sorry if the switching between povs irks you!
This is low-key corny idk
tags: cannibalism, non explicit smut, descriptions of smut but nothing too detailed, Choso getting a boner mid date, dead bodies mention, cooking with said dead bodies, slight gore, mention of sukuna and itadori as his brothers
Choso leaned forward over the pan, hands holding the stove as he silently judged the composition of his creation.
Yes, this was perfect. He did it yet again, he felt himself shake with hidden glee for another recipe he had mastered. The plate clinks as he arranged the food to his liking because in his favour; the regular who didn't mind anything had come here to eat, claiming they loved the element of suprise.
He had heard it from the other waiters, how a character like you was delighted with their services so far.
These types of customers were his favourite, it lets his creative abilities out and lets him go beyond restaurant quality meals. His eldest brother might be the main man with the preparation but the composition? That was his big stage alone.
He can't help but want to get to know you since you have come here quite often and it was due time he prepares a note. He knew you were just somebody who was willing to indulge in his artistic expression but such a refined wallflower without a date coming here a multitude of times piqued his interest.
The waiter then sends your plate over to you. Choso stood back, letting the night play out with its rush of orders and many other characters he'd be tending to.
He didn't hear back from you until the end of his shift and thankfully, he didn't speak of this to his siblings.
Itadori might be willing to hear him out since he would want to know what kind of person his big brother would have a crush on but he would drop dead if he ever told Sukuna about this. He was already a horrific tornado in the kitchen what more at home where he could poke fun at him to his heart's contentment?
Choso lets his hair down, combing through it as he stuffs his bag and readied himself to go home. Then, a miracle happens. The clumsy waiter that waited on your table ran to Choso out of breath, he reached into his pocket and presented him the crumpled note.
"Suprise me."
He couldn't believe it, it was your handwriting. Although, he would want to comment on how crumpled the note was marinating in the pocket of his dear coworker for hours; your number with a heart next to it had turned his sour mood upside down.
The middle brother went home with a stoic look but if they look closely, they'd see the light dust of pink decorating that pale face of his.
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It was his first date in so long. Choso doesn't do this often. He was a man focused on his work and crafts and his room filled with many trinkets and CD's where he kept close to his heart. He had took his time cleaning himself up.
He dressed the part, smelled like amber and wild berries and prim and proper. His attempt on covering up those dark eyebags of his was cute, he must've tried his best to try to be normal and his complexion was as pale as the moon both of you were gazing upon now.
You looked drop dead gorgeous, his hands start to shake from exhilaration to which you reached out; rubbing your thumb on his knuckles and giving him a tender smile to go and start first.
He cleared his throat, slowly introducing himself from his name, background to his family. He was a sous chef working at his eldest brother's restaurant, hard headed father who worked himself to the bones in a butcher shop and the meats prepared were used in the dishes. You licked your lips which made his eyes narrow salaciously before you sipped on the expensive alcohol he had bought for this evening.
"I've been to The King's Feast many times, the beef is.. tender and melts in my mouth, the food never dissappoints me everytime I go there,"
His face beams with light pride, a gentle smile on his face as he drummed the table with his fingers. That sense of tension he had slowly dissipates when he now knows you've been much closer to him than he had expected. His hand reaches out but he presses it back to his lap, almost like he wanted to touch your hand that fiddled around with your handkerchief.
"Such high praises will go to the chef."
You smirk slightly, crossing your arms.
"Oh? You weren't the one preparing my food?"
Choso shyly scratches the back of his neck.
"That would all be the work of my eldest brother, Sukuna. I'm just a sous chef." He stops breathing when you lean forward, those eyes of yours like a predator ready to sink into his own tender neck. You boldly traced his other hand that was on the table, following the creases of his palms that made his skin tickle.
"No, it wasn't just his work. I remember the arrangement of the dish. Decorous and elegant.."
You slipped his note out your bag, showing it to him. His handwriting, neat and precise and you point to his signature.
"That little pattern in your signature? I recognise it, you draw it on every plate that was served to me."
He swore gratification had reached further places than before like the bulge in his pants when you pull away with a genuine smile.
"It's beautiful. For all I know, you should be head chef at this point."
The praise gets to his head, he sipped his wine until he didn't realise he emptied it. Oh, he was hard. Would it be indecent to excuse himself and jerk one out in the bathroom right now? He couldn't help it. Nobody ever has complimented him on such a small detail, he'd automatically smile and nod to how his eldest brother gets all the praise but for his careful hands making the art on their plates? Never.
You refilled his glass with alcohol, giggling.
"Careful, our food hasn't arrived."
Choso thought he would charm you by being himself but it seemed he was charmed instead. The more the drinks pour and the more he chews his food. He didn' know how but a second date was scheduled and he watched you walk home, still smelling good enough to eat and slowly burning into his memory like a shadow of obsession.
He shouldn't. He was taking another helping of getting to know another pretty face before he realised that you've made him want to look again.
Choso bites his lip, heading to the bathroom for much needed relief.
"Suprise me."
The second time you said it was when he cooked for you in his own apartment. He knew how he got here, many nights of dates where now you both were tangled deep with each other.
You were interested in him from his black, silky hair to the tips of his toes. He was so giving, a man who liked doing things for others and he kept you warm in his arms when he fed you the food he made.
There were a lot of things you could love about Choso. One of the many characteristics was that restlessness he hid so much. With a slow tease of your words, he was easily flustered. He may act unbothered but he trembles more and look at you with such infatuation, you can't help but kiss him all over.
As usual, your teeth easily sinks into dinner and you felt him hold you, watching you like hawk. When he gets like this, it was unnerving and made you hot under the collar. He watches so closely that you can't help but hold his cheek to look at him.
"Your food is delicious as always, Choso. Is there something wrong?"
That dark haze in his eyes clears up and it turnt into cute crescents, wiping off the sauce from your lips and licking it up. You and him were absolutely more than just hookups but sometimes he just knows how to make your face warm. Him and his charm that was soft but felt so strongly. You put your plate down and crawl onto him, locking your limbs around him. It felt like a dream, the giggling, soft lips tickling each other's skin before merging together in one and forgetting the cold dish left on the table due to some vigorous activities.
The couch creaks, Choso had been such a unique person far better than the dates who became ghosts after the first date. You'd stare at their chat, contemplating if you said anything wrong or acted too eccentric for their taste. Too observant or too chatty, you can't help doing that when you get nervous.
But Choso, he had accepted it all so openly into his warm arms and into his house. It was a dream of being frisky and romantic enough to melt.
You brush against his eye bags, he hasn't been sleeping again.
"Choso, take care of yourself, okay?"
His lips curl into a smirk, making your heart skip a beat.
"I can't help it when a minx like you keeps me up at night."
Your giggling reaches a fever pitch as you two feel each other's body heat and do much more than taste test his food. Both of you were absolutely too deep into each other in a metaphoric and literal sense.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"I wanted to suprise you."
It was late in the evening which meant Choso wouldn't be home yet and you came by his apartment with the spare keys he gave you.
He knelt over the body of a woman, his hand holding her damp, red throat while he holds a cleaver in his other hand. The body was fresh, the smell of blood reeked so strongly when he hasn't even cut down on her limbs yet.
You wanted to suprise him, he always cooked for you so why don't you cook for him for once? But then the sound of metal hitting against metal alerted you, your hand twitches when it touched the door's cold surface which you opened bit by bit.
The unexpected scene that bestowed itself was chilling, a sharp crack could be heard when Choso stood up bloody.
The sound of his cleaver dropping jerked the keys out of your hands, remembering his words.
"Come by anytime you want, you don't need to text."
You wanted to see Choso but what stood up now wasn't him.
This monster had banged himself against the door to get to you, metal clanging on the ground; he hurled his body onto you and slammed you down on the sticky floor.
"You weren't supposed to see this yet.."
His hand curls around your throat to slam you back down from running, making your face turn blue. Your eyes water, looking everywhere but him.
"I wanted to make your favourite.."
Sweat dripped down his forehead, making a sound on your cheeks as he smears it against your skin.
"Delicate, tender on your tongue.."
Choso had been feeding you people.
A creep's thigh he carved out and sauteed last Wednesday, a woman's abdomen he broiled and sliced through for yesterday's dinner, one of his regulars' arms chopped into cubes and put into a stew for your late lunch.
He added spices and blood together, mixing it up to hide the human that stained your teeth. He watches you slurp and swallow his creations, how it had made you so happy that you were eating his food.
He hadn't known that getting to know you more meant you won't be another delicacy on a plate. The fixation he had with cooking was more lustful than a stranger that could be a warm notch on his bedpost. However, it turned out so different with you.
He can't help but cup your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. He opens his mouth to question.
"Why don't you look scared?"
On your face there wasn't fear but a long look of arousal. You hold his hand that was wrapped round your throat, whimpering out softly.
"You're choking me.. Choso.."
You then stood over him, turning the tables and it was your turn to choke him out next. His eyes widen, staring down at him was his crush with a hungry expression on their face.
"I knew.. I knew when I first came to your restaurant."
The smile on your face was chilling, suffocating him a little harder.
"Those dishes I had, it won't ever compare, "
He wrung your hands off, slamming you back down to the ground and keeping your wrists behind your head as you sputter wildly.
"It wont ever compare to what you've given me!"
Those dishes that were served in the King's Feast, you knew what they all were. The taste of chicken, lamb, duck, goat, your palette was refined. Yet, what sous chef Choso whipped up at his place.. tasted too good to be true.
Because you too had a taste of human way before he did. He wasn't the only maniac with a taste for his own kind.
It was your fantasies fulfilled. All those nights hunting down people, dragging them back to your apartment just to sate your own horrid appetite; you knew just what Choso had cooked in that kitchen of his and it made your body buzz with excitement.
Now, what you had was a soon to be partner who would revel with the same dangerous addiction.
"Come now, our dinner is escaping."
With the tip of your shoes, you slid the cleaver over to him and Choso stares into you, this captivating being he had the pleasure of meeting; one he had pinned on the floor of his home who wouldn't be sliced into bits like his usual victims.
No, you turned out to be a way better person than he initially thought. You whisper against him smoothly.
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