#tw crying

Right now, you wish you could hide under your blanket and avoid everyone.

Not wanting to talk, you roll over, facing away from your dad, hoping he'll leave you alone. You hear Spring leave, but you can feel his worried gaze on you.

"Soo..." Summer sits at the edge of your bed, making you internally groan. "Do you feel any different?" After a few moments of silence pass, he adds, "Physically or mentally?"

"Physically, I feel awful. Mentally, I also feel awful," you hiss. You pull the blankets tighter around you.

Summer winces. "Acting like your mom and papa without their morning coffee," he jokes nervously. He hesitates. "I wish any of us knew how to help. We were just kind of... born Gods." He makes a gesture towards nothing. "Our power came to us naturally."

He's rambling about things you already know, but you don't comment on it, continuing to look the opposite direction as him.

"But I'm pretty excited to see what powers you get, if any," Summer continues rambling. "Maybe it'd be something badass? Don't tell your papa I said that word." He grins at you, but his smile wavers when you remain apathetic.

"Maybe my power will be turning people who annoy me into rocks," you grumble.

"Oof, tough crowd," Summer laughs softly. "Hey, kid, seriously... we did it for you. That isn't changing, but we're so sorry you got hurt. We weren't expecting it to be that bad."

You turn to glare at him. "But you don't regret what you did."

His smile falls. "Never."

After that, he doesn't try to talk, and you fall back asleep soon after.

...

A few days later, you feel better... physically, at least.

You wake up from a nap to see Spring has dozed off too, curled around you protectively with his face buried against your hair.

Hesitating, you slowly try to dislodge yourself from his tight hold. You manage to roll out of his grasp, slipping off the bed and sneaking out the door as quietly as possible.

Only when you reach the staircase do you sigh in relief. You have free roam of the house again now, but you aren't sure if your body is completely healed yet. Stairs shouldn't be a problem though, right? Surely you can handle stairs.

Descending slowly, you hold onto the banister, gripping it firmly as your feet touch the landing below. You relax your grip a bit before proceeding forward, hoping to make it down without falling or alerting your family's attention.

Unfortunately, fate does not favor you today.

You slip, tumbling downwards at high speed. You land with a thud on the bottom step. Groaning loudly, you lay there in shock and dizziness.

When you're cradled in a familiar lap, you blink several times to realize its Autumn, checking you over for injuries.

"I'm fine," you assure him, embarrassed.

At first, you're pretty sure you're lying to him, until you realize... you actually are fine. There's an ache where you fell, but it's not nearly as bad as it should've been. The lack of real damage is unsettling to you. It doesn't take a genius to figure this has something to do with your new God status. You'd rather not think about it for too long.

Autumn seems surprised too. He must've been thinking along the same lines.

Still, he picks you up. You wonder if you now have the same increased strength and could do the same to him if you wanted to.

"What happened?!" Spring cries, bolting out from the hall upstairs. Apparently he had just noticed you were missing and your little trip downstairs woke him up.

"They fell down the stairs," Autumn answers calmly.

"Oh no, my baby! Did you get hurt?" he frets, rushing down the steps to look you over for injuries.

Even if you were injured, he's so frantic that you doubt he'd find any if they weren't obvious.

"Spring, love," Autumn soothes, using his free hand to touch his shoulder. "They're fine. I checked them over."

That seems to calm him down, and his shoulders sag in relief. Then he turns to look directly into your eyes. "You scared me! Why did you leave without waking me?"

You avoid his glassy eyes. "You looked like you needed sleep." It was true; even though Spring was far from an insomniac, especially compared to Winter, he had been up much more frequently as of lately.

"Well, you still shouldn't walk anywhere by yourself so soon," Spring reprimands, though it's gentle.

Autumn hums in agreement, depositing you on the couch. "Agreed. At least for a few more days."

Even though you don't agree, you know arguing with them, especially Autumn, would be like arguing with a brick wall. "Where's Mom and Dad?" you ask instead.

"They're both outside. Cleaning up the yard and garden," Autumn tells you. "I recommended it as a way to get their minds off things, but I'm worried they're going to mess it up more." He drags out an exasperated sigh. Spring is the only person other than himself that he trusts with the garden and plants.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Spring asks, drawing your attention back to him.

"I'm... fine."

"Let me make you some lunch," Spring says, jumping up. "Sandwich sound good, sweetie?"

"Why eat? Not like I need it anymore." Despite that, you still feel hungry.

"You actually do," Autumn says calmly. "Just because you can't die of starvation, doesn't mean you won't become weaker and frailer if you don't eat regularly, just like when you were a human. This isn't up for debate."

Great. Just one more reminder how different you are now.

The door opens, and Winter gasps upon seeing you, despite having watched over you last night. You figure he's just surprised to see you active and out of bed.

He drops whatever tools are in his hand, and rushes over, looking like he wants to throw his arms around you and never let go. Instead, he stops short, kneeling on the floor, grasping both your hands. He looks worried to hug you, as if you'll break.

It's a little ironic how gently they've been treating you. You're probably more indestructible you've ever been in your entire life.

"Hi, sweetheart," Winter coos, looking like he might cry. His face brightens considerably.

"Hey, Mom," you return. It's hard to be upset at Winter the most. "You don't have to kneel on the ground for me."

"It's fine," he dismisses, kissing the backs of your hands. "I haven't seen you all day. Are you alright? How do you feel?" He glances at Autumn, who is hovering, as per usual. "Why aren't they in bed?"

Your guardian sighs, placing a hand on Winter's shoulder. "Calm down, dear. They slipped down the stairs—"

Winter freezes, panic clear on his face. He turns back to you quickly. "What?!"

"I'm okay," you rush to assure him. "Promise."

Autumn nods. "They're right. No injuries."

Winter's tense shoulders sag with relief. "Thank goodness." He smiles at you, then finally hugs you properly, squeezing you in his arms, though careful to be gentle with you. He places a kiss atop of your head. "My baby," he whispers against your hair. He trembles slightly, and you hear sniffles. "I love you so much. So very much."

Later, Summer comes in from cleaning up outside, and excuses himself to take a shower and change into clean clothes, and Spring comes back with your food.

It's painfully awkward. Everyone stares as you eat. Usually someone chats over mealtime, but everyone's quiet.

You aren't sure what to talk about, or if you want to speak at all. Everything feels... so odd. It feels like you're mourning your humanity.

To be fair, in a sense you kind of are.

Suddeny, you feel too sick to your stomach to eat. You put your half-eaten sandwich back on its plate. "I'm not hungry."

Autumn narrows his eyes at you. "(Y/n)," he says in his warning voice.

"No! You took everything away from me, I think you should at least give me the right to refuse to eat! I'm not yours, or anyone else's belonging, and you need to stop treating me like I am!" You stand up and nearly fall over, if not for Spring steadying you. "Don't touch me!"

He recoils, as if stabbed. Even Autumn is visibly taken aback.

Summer walks back in, toweling at his hair, which had been dampened from his shower. He notices the atmosphere shift instantly, frowning at you, then at his spouses. "Uh... what's happening?"

Winter puts a hand up to silence him, turning his attention back to you. "Sweetheart, we're just trying to help you. Please just lay back down. You don't have to eat yet if you don't want to."

You shake your head, wiping frustrated tears from your face with your sleeves. "No, I'm fucking done."

Everyone but Summer gasps at your language. It just makes you more annoyed.

"Leave me alone! Okay?!" With that, you stomp off, with Spring trying to go after you, but Winter gently pulling him back, muttering that you need space.

You don't want to be in your room anymore, not after several days of being holed up in there. You instead yank open the door leading to the backyard, taking the opportunity to sit at the base of a tree outside to think.

Nobody follows, likely due to Winter's advice, even though you're positive they were itching to.

Good. You need to be alone to collect yourself. It doesn't stop you from crying, hiding your face between your knees.

Is this the rest of eternity? Is this how it will always be?

You feel the tree you're leaning on shift. Turning your head, you see its dead, all the leaves that were on its branches falling in the wind. That's when you realize the grass beneath you is now yellow and crisp. You know for a fact they weren't that way before.

Was this something you caused? Is this proof of new power growing within you? Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. What's wrong with you?

Experimentally, you touch a stray daisy poking out of the ground near you. As soon as your fingers make contact with the soft petals, the plant wilts and dies right in front of you. It's blackened and decayed in seconds.

Your breath picks up, terrified by this new ability. In a panic, you scramble back, away from the dead flower and tree.

Yet every step you take, each place your fingertips touch, kills the nearby foliage immediately.

Once you reach the center of the lawn, you stare, horrified, at what used to be thriving plants. The work both Spring and Autumn have been working hard to maintain is gone. Or at least, everything you touched, including everything nearby what you touched.

You let out a small scream, alerting your parents.

Autumn is the first out the door, who stares at all the dead foilage with wide eyes, taking it all in.

Summer is next, but he doesn't even spare the dead plants a glance, rushing over to you. He tries to grab you, to make sure you're okay, to hug you and comfort you, but you violently flinch away. If he touches you, who knows what will happen?

"Kiddo..." Summer trails off. "It's alright, we can fix this—"

"What on earth happened?!" Spring cries, Winter right next to him.

Summer looks up briefly at them, and you take his moment of distraction to bolt in the other direction.

Everything still aches, but adrenaline pushes you forward. You run as fast as your weakened state can carry you, which is surprisingly quicker than you expected. You can't tell if that also has something to do with the adrenaline running through your veins, or if its part of your powers. You're pretty sure 'curse' would be a better word to describe it.

"(Y/n)!" Summer shouts. His voice echoes behind you in the empty woods surrounding the house. "(Y/n), stop! Come back!"

Last time, you ran away because you were trying to do yourself a favor.

Now, you're running away to do them a favor.

While running into the forest, you notice the entire area is wilting, just like the garden. The grass, flowers, and trees rot in the radius surrounding you, and it makes you so nauseous you fear you may pass out.

Your legs eventually give out, and you collapse onto your knees. Curling up in the fetal position, you try to make yourself as tiny as possible. You cry harder as your vision swims.

Distantly, you hear all your guardians' voices calling for you desperately.

It must be easy for them to figure out the general area you're in, you realize with dread, because everywhere you ran is destroyed by whatever awful power is coursing through you now.

You look down to notice there's glowing black lines from your hands to your shoulders, like fissures from cracked rock.

"They have to be around here," a voice you recognize as Autumn's says. He sounds determined and exhausted. He's close. All your guardians' footsteps are crunching the dead grass and twigs beneath them.

Logic causes you to stay in place. If you run, they'll either hear you or just follow the trail of dead nature around you. You just hope they'll overlook you.

You cry quietly into your arms, knees drawn against your chest to stifle the noises leaving your mouth.

"It's alright, baby," another voice speaks softly. Winter. He sounds the closest. "You don't need to hide. Please come out." He pauses. "We understand you didn't mean to kill all those plants. None of us are mad, especially me. Between you and me, I honestly hated those lilies."

It almost makes you smile, until realizing you must've killed those too.

Without even realizing it, a loud, uncontrolled sob rips from your throat. You slap both your hands over your mouth, but it's already too late.

Luckily, it seems only Winter was close enough to hear it. He finds you after scanning the surroundings, eyes widening once he does. A noise of distress leaves his lips. "Oh, baby."

As soon as he reaches you, he's knelt before you, pulling your hands away from your face.

"No, wait—" you choke on a sob. "Mom, don't..."

But nothing happens to him, or anywhere around him. His skin isn't rotting away from contact with you. His hair remains healthy and long. Nothing changes at all.

"I—I don't understand..." you hiccup. "How aren't you dying?"

Winter gathers you into his arms. He presses several kisses to the top of your head. "Gods are immortal. Humans and animals wouldn't be able to survive either, I imagine. We're unaffected." He gently shushes your distressed noises. "Hush now, baby. No harm done. You don't need to worry anymore, angel."

You're relieved to hear that, but you're still terrified nonetheless. Especially since you apparently now have the capacity to end life without even meaning to.

"I'm not an angel," you respond sadly. "I kill things just by touching them."

Winter stills, hugging you tighter against his chest. "Sweetheart... listen to me. You are not a monster. You're my child. Nothing changes that."

"I look like a monster right now," you respond. You show him your hands, displaying the dark crack-like fissures pulsating with energy.

He smiles sadly. "Do you remember my true form? I know I sure looked like a monster. It usually comes from a mixture of overusing powers and getting emotional. Over time, it gets easier to control." He runs his thumb over one of the thin markings. "I don't believe these markings will last more than a few hours. And even if they hypothetically didn't, none of us would ever see you as a monster. Even if you gained a new set of razor sharp teeth and only spoke in snarls."

You sniffle at his words. "What even am I the God of? Just... death, that's it?"

Winter strokes your cheek, drying your tears. His cold hands feel soothing, almost freezing your tears. "Maybe it's less grim. Me, your papa, dad, and mama represent the four seasons. Maybe you represent the cycle of time. Birth to death." He hums, pausing thoughtfully. "If your power can control decay and death, then it might be the opposite as well."

Opposite? Like creating life? You begin feeling hopeful. "You mean I can make things grow instead of just die?"

"I'm certain we can find ways to test that theory," Winter replies warmly. He scoops you up effortlessly. "Can I let them know we're over here?"

With a deep sigh, you nod. "Yeah."

He calls for them, and Summer is first to come rushing forward, before Autumn and Spring are quick to catch up.

"Oh, (Y/n), you terrified us," Autumn shakily whispers, taking you from Winter's arms to hug you close against him.

"I know, that was scary what happened back there..." you mutter. "I'm sorry I ruined your garden."

Autumn clicks his tongue, brushing a stray lock of your hair back. "Oh, pumpkin, that's such a small thing to be concerned about. None of us care about that. Are you all right?"

"I think I will be," you answer truthfully.

He presses his lips to your forehead, exhaling with relief. "Good." He squeezes you a bit tighter.

You look at Spring, who watches with teary eyes. "I'm sorry for snapping earlier, Mama," you mumble.

Spring shakes his head, stepping closer to lean against you and Autumn. "It's okay, you were overwhelmed. I wasn't mad." He wipes his eyes. "We love you so much. You scared all of us. Never do that again," he huffs wetly, making everyone else chuckle, including you.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

It’s been twenty days since he brought you home, where you belong, and you still haven’t adjusted.

It’s not that he doesn’t love the pretty sight of your puffy, red cheeks when you’ve been sobbing, or the taste of your tears. Not when they’re for the right reasons.

You sputter out beautiful, watery pleas when he fucks into you at night. He’ll never get tired of those cries. But those are different. Those, he tells himself, are because he’s too big, too strong, loving you too passionately. And you take him so well, regardless. Your cute, little holes are still so tight for him. So perfect.

You even cry when you come. That’s his favorite. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that you can’t hold back the emotional sounds of release. They’re happy tears for the gift he’s giving you.

But when you’re all alone, convinced he’s not watching, not listening, sobbing mournfully for the shit life he saved you from? Those are the tears he despises.

It’s honestly just so fucking ungrateful. Don’t you know how much he loves you? How hard he works for you? Everything he’s done to protect you?

Of course you do, because he’s told you.

He knows every little detail about you, so it was only fair that he’d teach you about himself.

Each night, after stuffing you full of his love, he’d tuck you in and lock you in. He’d sit on the cold floor—not the comfy cushion he’d thoughtfully lined your cage with—and tell you all about his days. His past, his plans, his dreams for your future together.

He savored the memory of your pretty, red-rimmed eyes widening like saucers when he first explained the extent of his stalking.

Well you called it stalking, he called it looking out for you.

So, now you knew. You fucking knew, and still you snivel and weep like you actually missed your pathetic, miserable old life.

Fine.

If his gentle, doting approach isn’t good enough for you, he’ll have to try a different approach.

He hasn’t tried gagging you yet, worried that it may impede when you finally call for him with longing for his attention. That changes now.

You’ll lose the privilege to utter any sounds that aren’t smothered. The only time you’ll be relieved of a gag, tape or a muzzle are when he’s hand feeding you or fucking your face.

With his cock rammed down your wet, hot throat you’ll be allowed to cry all the lovely tears you want.

Maybe when you finally, finally tell him you love him and mean it he’ll give you back the privilege to pray for your freedom.

But by then you won’t want to.

You’ll adjust, little love. You will.

After ringing her phone for the 13th time you contemplate leaving a message just to let her know that you’re ready to leave and if she doesn’t answer in the next 10 minutes you’re leaving without her.

Just about you’re about to press send you hear a voice that is all too familiar to you.

“[Name] You’ll never guess who I just found drinking his weight!” Yuki shouted from the other side of the living room as she marched towards you with someones hand in hers, maneuvering through the crowd to you. You’re lucky enough to have even heard her due to the loud music that leaves the speakers planted across the house.

You sigh, as you also slither through the crowd towards her in a desperation to meet her as quickly as possible to let her know that you’re ready to leave this party to go to your room to sleep, its way past the time you usually go to bed and the effect of staying awake in a strangers house has taken a toll on your social battery and your overall will to live.

“Look [Name] it’s Choso, do you remember from middle school, I didn’t know he came here for college” Yuki exclaimed in excitement as she nudges Choso to step forward so you can acknowledge his presence.

Your eyes dart slightly down from Yuki face, however your neck is still craning to look upwards towards the person that Yuki brought over, confusion swamping your brain as it fails to correlate that your childhood friend who you used to tower over now was looking downwards at you with a soft smile plastered across his face.

“You’re lying,” you chuckled to yourself in disbelief “You’ve changed so much!! I remember when you used to be shorter than me,” you exclaim in disbelief as you take in his features, comparing the blurry memory of young Choso to the man who now stands before you.

He’s truly grown into his features his inky hair cascading messily down, stopping at his shoulders. His bangs whilst slightly overgrown, perfectly frame his face highlighting his cheekbones and his sharp nose. His face slightly flushed, hinting at the amount of alcohol he must’ve tossed down his throat. You continue to admire his beautiful features, staring deeply into his mahogany eyes, his irises’ a perfect pool of honey that feels as if they are holding you hostage in his gaze whilst you take this moment to admire him, truly enamoured by how time truly worked in Choso's favour as he grew into a beautiful man.

“Hey [Name], it’s been a while, how’s life been treating you?”

Before you had the chance to respond to Chosos question, he engulfs you in a hug. His strong arms encapsulate your frame, keeping you locked into his body as your head is pressed against his cushion of a chest. Your nose is suddenly flooded with the scent of his cologne which has a strong silage scent of musk.

You attempt to push away from him, much too overwhelmed by his sudden proximity to you, however his strength simply overpowers you as he brings you closer to himself, in fear that if you leave his arms you’d leave him forever, leaving him alone.

A couple of seconds pass before you get sick of this situation, (despite Chosos body temperature being warm as his heart erratically beats) you want to go home and crawl into your bed. Whilst it was sweet to be reunited with a childhood friend you were absolutely exhausted and was already dreading the next day.

“You can let me go of me now” you assert, however your pleas fall on deaf ears as Chosos simply hugs you tighter, bringing you even closer to him. “God [Name], I missed you so fucking much” he murmurs into your scalp as his thumb rubs your back in small little circles.

“I wish I never left,” he whispers into your hair repeatedly hoping that if he vocalises his regret enough he’d be able to go back into time to prevent his parents from moving to another area away from everything he’s ever known, away from you.

If Choso were to be honest with himself, he likes you a lot. He’s been infatuated with you from the moment that he first saw you. Your beautiful smile and eyes that warmed his heart. Having to move away had crushed him, he never had the opportunity to express his love to you or to even attempt to make a move on you. Choso doesn’t have it in him to admit to you the amount of times he’s stalked your posts on social media just to touch his sensitive cock, as he whimpers your name fantasising that it is your hands that’s palming him and not his own. Through his connections, (Yuki) he found out that you had applied to this university and Choso wasted no time to also apply in order to find you and re-enter your life by fire or by force. However, Choso knew one thing, he had no plans on leaving your life again by any means.

“Okay seriously, let go of me now. I need to keep an eye on Yuki and let her know that I’m going.” You huff as you push yourself away from Choso, and through your surprise you're finally free from his confining grasp. Your eyes begin to dart around looking for your tall blonde friend behind Choso as you realise that she had left when he had taken you by surprise with the hug. You begin to scan the room, confused on where she went before you notice her on a couch, standing proud as her shoes dig into the soft cushions, a bottle of beer in hand as she chugs away, being praised by the people around her. Cheers erupt amongst the crowd once she tips the bottle over her head to prove that she has finished the drink, announcing her victory and her contestants defeat in the drinking game.

You slink away from Choso and go towards the couch, to let Yuki know that you were ready to leave whilst Choso followed you like a lost puppy, internally whining when he realised that you just recently mentioning that you were leaving wasn’t a joke. Do you not care for him? You’ve just been reunited with your childhood friend but your first thought is to leave? How selfish of you.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuki had chugged the bottle of beer to prepare for a game of 7 minutes of heaven which you and Choso had just walked into without any prior context. Great.

“Come sit with me [Name], we’re about to start playing,” Yuki waves you over, slapping the cushion seat of the couch. You trail over, shaking your head building up the courage to let her know that you’re going home with or without her, your social battery was already past drained and it didn’t help that Choso was sucking on it like a leech despite the short amount of time you’ve reunited.

“About that..” you begin to speak as you plop down next to Yuki, looking at your lap and playing with your fingers. “I’m actually going to go back to my dorm.” You then look at Yuki who stares at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“WHAT? Stay for like 3 rounds and then go, I’ll even go with you but I can’t miss this game, the FOMOs gonna hit me so bad, please [Name]” Yuki begins to plead with you, grabbing your hands from your lap as she holds them in her own, slightly shaking them in an attempt to convince you to stay. Unfortunately for you, it does convince you as you can’t bring yourself to leave your friend in a house surrounded by strangers whilst she is drunk.

“Okay fine, only three rounds.” You assert leaning back into the couch as you watch Choso sit down on the couch that is opposite yours and he begins to converse with people who you don’t recognise. Probably friends he made whilst he moved away. However, you notice that every once in a while his eyes linger towards you, trying to gain your attention. You choose not to say anything about this observation, already fed up at the fact you agreed to stay for 3 rounds of this silly game before you can finally leave to be in your dorm.

It appears that Gojo is hosting this game, meaning that he decided to add different rules to ‘spice up the game’. “That just great” you think to yourself, hoping that the time would pass as quickly as possible, you already miss the comfort of your mattress and the warmth of your bed.

“Okay guys, here are the rules!!” Gojo shouts as he walks into the middle of the circle clearing his throat. “I’ll spin the bottle twice and the 2 people who get picked have to go into the storage room for 7 minutes.” He begins, pointing to the dingy room under the staircase, “If one of the 2 people don’t want to go in, they have to take a forfeit shot.” He continues, wiggling his finger around to make the punishment sound scary. “In the 7 minutes that the two people are in the storage room,you have to do something sexual to pass the round so this can be kissing, making out, whatever you freaks want to do. If nothing happens, both of you have to take 2 shots or drop a dark secret or maybe both depending on how evil everyone’s feeling.” He finishes clapping his hands together to signify the end of this monologue.

“Everyone ready??” Gojo shouts as he cracks his knuckles dramatically to commence that the game is about to begin. He places the beer bottle that was recently emptied by Yuki onto the floor in the centre of the circle as he spins it and moves back to his seat. The bottle continues to spin clockwise before it begins to slow down and lands on… Shoko. Everyone erupts into a huge blend of noise, mostly applause and a small amount of people rolling their eyes that the bottle had passed them.

Gojo then proceeds to get up to spin the bottle for the second time to find out who Shoko is going to enter the room with. However, before he leans down to spin the bottle he looks up at the circle of people around him. “Can I have a drum roll please?” He questions, raising an eyebrow whilst looking around.

People begin to drum their hands on the laps as Gojo smiles and rushes back to his seat in the circle, joining in on the noise also. The bottle continues to spin before it slows down and lands on.. Utahime. People once again erupt into noise, some people complaining wishing it was them that was picked instead of Utahime and vice versa whilst others are relieved that they weren’t picked, you included. Only 2 more rounds to go.

“So..” Gojo starts “Are you guys going to go in?” He prompts eyes flickering to both of the individuals.

“Sure why not?” Utahime responds, taking a swig of her drink (most likely liquid courage) before grabbing Shoko's arm to drag her into the storage room determined to get this over and done with.

~

7 minutes pass and both Utahime and Shoko leave the room slightly disheveled and panting, Utahimes face a bright pigment of red alluding to whatever they had done in the room whilst Shoko licks her lollipop satisfied. They both plop down in their respective seats ready for the next round whilst the people around them nudge and pressure them to reveal whatever happened in those few minutes to get both of them flustered.

“Okay, who's ready for the next round?” Gojo shouts in a tone similar to a talk show host as he walks to the middle of the room once again.

People begin cheering and Yuki nudges you to also make noise and to involve you in the game. You learn forward to show that you are involved and when the noise comes to a polite murmur you lean back into the couch waiting for Gojo to spin the bottle once more.

The process begins once more, the bottle spinning as people chatter about who they’d want to be in the room with and who they wouldn’t want. You continue reminding yourself that after this round you only have to sit for 1 more round until you can go home and the likelihood that the tip of the bottle would stop to face you is unlikely.

The bottle once again slows down to face Mei Mei. Gojo gets up to spin the bottle once more, causing the bottle to clank loudly on the hardwood floor. You drum your hands on your lap ready for this game to be over and done with. The bottle slows to a stop to the individual who is sitting opposite you. Choso. Noise erupts the people once again as they watch Mei Meis reaction to Choso being chosen; she looks clearly unimpressed with the decision that the bottle had given her. Choso looks at you before he looks at Mei Mei and grabs a bottle of vodka to take a shot, showing his unwillingness to go into the room with Mei Mei. He gulps down the shot, his face wincing as the alcohol makes contact with his throat before travelling down to his stomach.

Confused murmurs and boos can be heard in the room as Gojo slowly gets up to start the round again, determined to keep the atmosphere of the game up. Guess that means you only have one more round left until you can taste the sweet salvation of returning to your dorm.

Before the new round begins to commence, Yuki turns to you to say “That round didn’t count because no one went into the room, you have to stay for 2 more rounds.” Poking her finger into your lap. You want to argue back saying that’s not fair before she shushes you and tells you to just wait for 2 more rounds.

The new round begins once again, the bottle spins on the floor, your fingers begin to drum in your lap once again as you pray for the time to go quicker, already sick of the deal you made.

Like the previous rounds before, the bottle slows down to a stop but instead of the tip of the bottle facing anyone else in the circle it decides to face… you. Oh! “That's just great,” you mutter to yourself.

Yuki turns to you in surprise and starts shaking your shoulders in disbelief that the bottle landed on you. You on the other hand? You dreaded this outcome as you begin to shake your head and place them in your hands. Whoever the other person is you pray that they take a shot so you A, don’t have to take the shot as you’re the designated driver and not in the mood to tickle with the law and B you don’t have to step into that stupid storage room and do God knows what.

Gojo spins the bottle once more as a seed of anxiety is placed into your stomach. In all honesty, you’re shitting yourself, you have no idea who it could possibly be and the fact that the stupid bottle hasn't begun to slow down like it usually should is eating away at your nerves more than you’d like it to. After what feels like a century, the bottle finally begins to slow down and comes to a dramatic halt. The top of the bottle facing another individual in the circle. You watch the neck of the bottle as you slowly bring your eyes to look up at the potential person who you have to bear the 7 minutes with. You look up to meet the eyes of Choso.

You let out a breath of relief as you recall that he chugged a shot when he was last picked and you feel a wave a peace wash over you displacing the anxiety that you had had earlier.

However, instead of expecting Choso to pick up the bottle of vodka once more you watch him get up and walk towards you.

No. No no no no no. “You have got to be kidding me.” You think to yourself as his hand stretches out towards you, waiting for you to take his arm as you walk in unison to the dingy storage room.

You’re now faced with two options, take a shot and embarrass your childhood friend or to suck it up and just go in the room for 7 minutes. You choose the latter, you take Choso's hand and hoist yourself up as you follow him to the door of the storage room. It’s only seven minutes, what’s the worst that can happen? You turn around and spot Yuki looking at you with a bright smile and a thumbs up.

Choso opens the door to the storage room causing it to creak, begging for a drop of oil on its hinges as he motions for you to step in first as he follows suit. You take a quick look at the set up of the storage room whilst light still bleeds into it so you’re aware of what not to bump into to avoid any injuries on yourself. It's a classic storage room with boxes labelled to go charity and what not, some trinkets are dotted around the small room. You quickly choose to sit down, knees tucked towards your chest in a corner and Choso closes the door before he loses his balance causing him to stumble down, miscellaneous trinkets falling down from a shelf he had knocked before they roll towards your direction, landing at your feet.

“And the timer begins” you hear Gojo shout from the outside before he begins to entertain the people outside with a passing game to help the time go quicker.

Your hands begin to pat the ground, looking for the trinket that had earlier nudged you to put it back. Your hand makes contact with it, the cold sharp front of it poking your index finger. You begin to feel for the shelf that it fell off, unknowingly inching closer towards Choso.

Your hands continue rummaging around for the supposed shelf that the trinket fell from when your hands made contact with Choso's hair. Shocked, you quickly retract your hand but are unable to as Choso grabs your hand to place them on his own, he begins to play with your fingers and gently prys the trinket from them to put back onto the shelf.

He continues to keep your hands in his, causing you to shuffle forward so you’re not leaning towards him uncomfortably. A couple seconds pass before he slumps his body forwards onto you, putting his body weight onto you.

‘Geez Choso, how much did you drink?’ You ask in bewilderment, moving your hands away from his, causing him to whimper as you support him and push his body up so it’s resting against the wall and not slumped over.

“Maybe 7 shots of vodka I’m not entirely sure.” He slurs out his hands trailing around in the dark attempting to follow your voice and find you once again as your hands were no longer in his possession.

He manages to find your hands and bring them closer to his person.

“God you’re so warm [Name] , come closer please I need you” he pleads as he inches closer to you, the scent of his cologne becoming stronger as he bridges the gap between you.

You comply, closing what little gap was between you two as Choso hugs you, his warm chest pressed against you close enough where you can hear his heart beating arbitrarily.

A couple of seconds pass before Choso clears his throat.

“You know that Gojos not going to let us out until we do something ‘sexual’” Choso begins.

“And how is he even going to find out if we do or don’t do something?” You respond rolling your eyes.

“Trust me he has his ways” Choso responds shrugging his shoulders.

If what Choso is saying is true, Choso raised a good point. It’s better to just get whatever Gojo's idea of sexual is over and done with so you can return to a comfortable silence. Surely a little kiss on the cheek would be fine and counted as ‘sexual ’ right?

You cup Choso's cheeks with your hands, causing him to close his eyes prepared for your lips to make contact with his as you lean in to give him a kiss on his cheek before promptly removing your hands from his face to put them back onto your lap, satisfied. Choso on the other hand doesn’t seem to be as content with your decision.

“That’s it?” Choso whines, slowly peeling his eyes open. “I’ve waited 4 years just for a peck on the cheek, come on [Name] I know you can give me better than that” Choso complains as he places his hands on your cheeks.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You question, your brain simply failing to understand what he could be implying.

“I like you, I’ve liked you for a while and I swear to God I’m not leaving this damn room with just a peck on my cheek, please [Name] don’t do me like this.” Choso pleads as he brings his head to your forehead, hot tears gushing out of his eyes landing on your nose before it travels to your lips, the salty taste lingering on your tongue .

“Please [Name], please just a little more I’m begging you.”

You sigh, slightly nodding your head as your brain tries to process what Choso has just told you.

Choso's nose nudges yours as his lips make contact with yours, a smooth motion as his lips begin moving in gently, before they begin to hungrily bore into yours. You, taken by surprise at the sudden switch in energy gasp, causing your mouth to part slightly, giving Choso's tongue leeway to enter your mouth.

His tongue begins exploring your mouth, coating your mouth in his saliva as his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek as he groans in your mouth whilst his body slowly leans onto yours, causing you to lean back, his body weight overpowering your strength. The smell of his alcohol breath dominates your nose as he tries moving even closer to you kissing you like a starved man.

A couple more seconds pass before you feel yourself running out of air, your hands, which were now on Choso’s back, taps him gently indicating for him to pull away.

He responds by whimpering and slightly shaking his head as he kisses you harder, his lips moving rhythmatically with your inexperienced ones as he presses more of his body weight on you, keeping you trapped underneath him. You’re practically now plastered against the floor.You tap harder now, bordering the crossing line of slapping him just so you can breathe.

Finally, Choso pulls away, his breath heavy and face still close to yours as he whines, clearly upset that he had to pull away early. He once again takes your hands into his as he brings them under his shirt to feel his abs, signaling for you to touch his torso.

He winces at your cold hands before he acclimatises to the temperature difference as he moans out once your hands begin to roam his torso.

You quickly stop what you were doing, retracting your hands back slowly before he whines, bringing his hands back over yours to keep them on him.

“No please keep touching me, I’m begging you” he pleads chest rising and falling heavily as he guides your hands around his perfect torso, your hands trailing along as his moans begin inconspicuously until they eventually become more and more coherent as he begins pleading for you.

He kisses you once more, your hands distracted by his abs as he holds your face hungrily sucking and licking your bottom lip, causing you to open your lios allowing him to once again explore your mouth, tongue gliding against yours.

You slowly begin to take back your hands, sliding down his abs, the ridges in each one causing a bumpy journey down.

Choso moans loudly into your mouth in response to this as he guides your hands towards his trousers ,your hands gliding across the tent in them as he whimpers in delight at this motion.

“Please Angel i-it hurts so much” Choso cries as he puts his hands on top of yours, keeping them planted there as you rub small circles around the belt buckle of his pants. Choso breaks away from the kiss as he throws his head back in pleasure moaning loudly with his eyes closed.

You stop caressing the area, everything felt like it was moving way too fast. Whilst you’re not ‘well-experienced’ in things such as this, you have read smutty books, but to experience all this in real life and with Choso at that has you wanting to pinch yourself from this much too real daydream.

“Please Angel you have to-“ he pants, “you have to help me.”

He can’t possibly mean..

Choso guides your hands to the buckle of his jeans, moaning in delight as your hand brushes his prominent boner, his hips slightly lifting up in the direction of your hands.

Oh.

“Please, you have to he-help me I don’t know what to do, I.. I can’t leave the room with this, please help me it hurts so much.” Choso cries, you can feel his tears falling on you once again like a never ending waterfall as he begs and pleads for you to do something, anything.

You take a deep breath, much too overwhelmed with the situation “Okay..” you start “What do you want ME to do?” you ask in confusion, “surely you dealing with… this” you wave your hands around hinting at how hard his dick is “would make more sense than me doing anything?” You question. You seriously don’t get his logic.

“A minutes gone you horny teens!” Gojo shouts jokingly, however his joke sent you on edge as you weren’t really too fond on people outside knowing what debacle you’re currently in until you remembered that he can’t actually hear what’s going on in the room because of how loud the music is, feeling the bass on the floor.

“That’s exactly why I’m asking for your help Angel , there’s no way I can get rid of this boner in 6 minutes without some form of… help ." Choso begrudgingly explains, somehow not embarrassed by this sudden confession. Defo because of the vodka…

“Please help me” he clasps your hands in his “I’ll do anything you want just- you have to help me please” Choso pleads. Due to yours eyes not fully adjusted to the poor lighting in the room, you’re unable to see his face whilst he begs, all sense of pride out of the door.

“Okay fine, so all I need to do is to get rid of your…” your trail off, trying to keep a form of dignity before you continue your sentence “boner right? Okay seems pretty easy” you respond with wavering confidence as you realise you have no actual experience on what to do beside the smutty books you indulge yourself in at night. Surely it can’t be that different?

“God you’re such an Angel I promise I’ll repay you” Choso responds as he places your hands back on the buckle of his belt, guiding them to remove the latch. As you begin to sit up, sitting cross legged, he begins to pepper you with kisses all over your face thanking you for your aid, whereas you on the other hand begin to fumble with the latch of his belt, the poor lighting in the room rendering you slightly useless. Choso chuckles as he repositions his hips to get more comfortable causing his boner to knock on your wrist inciting a deep groan from him.

The buckle finally unlatches and you begin to pop open the button on his jeans. The motion grazes Choso's sensitive cock, causing it to twitch as he whimpered desperately. He hastily pulls down the zipper of his jeans, revealing to his boxers that he wastes no time pulling down from the waistband, smirking as he does so, groaning deeply from the friction.

His cock springs out from his boxers, standing at attention, the tip a light pink, slightly curved, leaking precum. The veins on his length protrude outwardly as it throbs viscerally. The cold temperature of the room causes Choso to wince and groan, his cock twitching in response as it slowly adapts to the change in temperature.

You take initiative by circling Choso's tip with your index finger, more curious of the consistency of the precum. His length twitches in response as he whimpers loudly, shuffling his hips in desperation. You grab his cock, feeling it throb in your grasp and Choso continues to moan loudly, his eyes hazed with lust. Choso responds by placing his hand over yours and slowly begins to move it up and down his shaft.

“Your hand feels so good” Choso groans out in pleasure, gliding your hand up and down his cock. His breath becomes heavier as he increases the speed. Your hand, which was at first gently tapping his stomach was now viciously slamming into it as he fucks up into your hand, his moans becoming more and more uncontrollable.

You look up at Choso in shock, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light and through squinting your eyes you see his mouth slightly parted, drool slipping out sliding down his chin whilst his eyes are rolled back. As if he can sense your stare, Choso tilts his head downwards slightly to stare at you before using his free hand to gently grab the back of your head to push you towards him- his lips crashing into yours as he hungrily kisses you, moans escaping from his mouth as you squeeze his cock on accident, startled by the sudden motion.

Choso’s breath hitches as a string of saliva connecting both you and him stretches the more his face moves away from yours. He whimpers, tears welling in his eyes as he moves his head onto the crook of your neck, warm tears sliding down your neck before being stopped from the absorption of your top.

Choso takes your free hand and trails it down his neck, he winces from the cold feeling of it before whispering,

“Can you give me a Hickey?”

You look at him in shock before he opens his lips again to speak.

“Please?” He begs, his tears glossed eyes boring into yours.

You gulp. How are you supposed to confess that you have no idea how to do that? I mean sure, you’ve read your fair share of fanfics but they never really explicitly gave a tutorial on how to give a hickey. Your pride is refusing to let you confess your lack of experience as you stare into Choso's eyes. He looks utterly pathetic begging for a semblance of a mark from you.

The silence holds in the air for a couple of seconds before Choso takes the initiative to move closer to your neck.

“Wh…what are you doing?” You respond feeling his hot breath fan your neck before he begins to sniff in your scent

Choso moves his hand from his neck onto your lips to shush you.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything just follow my lead” he whispers before peppering your neck with kisses, he continues to kiss you whilst travelling down to your collarbone before he stops, tutting and pulling your top slightly down revealing your skin. His hair droops down slightly tickling your neck.

Choso begins to promptly suck on your collarbone, slightly nibbling at it his soft, plump lips emanating heat onto it. He continues to suck on your skin whilst using his other hand to guide yours up and down his cock, it viscerally throbs in response, precum leaking out of it as he moans into you. You shudder from the contact, his plump lips delicately brush against your skin.

Choso begins to move away from your neck but not before his tongue enthusiastically licks the hickey he’s now planted on you before looking up at you and booping your nose.

“Did you catch that?” He asks. You hum in response, your mind still spinning from what he had just done. The cold air hits your exposed collarbone, the plum colour of the hickey glistens, Choso’s saliva reflecting off it as you feel a slight pulse in the area. Giving a hickey can’t be that hard to do? Right? You think to yourself as you begin to move closer towards Choso , figuring out where to put this hickey. You settle on his neck as you begin to copy his actions.

Recounting what Choso had just done to you, you begin to pepper kisses on his neck whilst simultaneously trying to figure out where exactly on his neck you should put the hickey on. You decide on putting it near his Adam's Apple, after watching it bob up and down, saliva travelling down his throat as he nervously waits for his branding. You start to suck on the thin flesh, his sweet cologne flooding your senses as you begin to suck harder, your brain begins to scramble, attempting to recall the sensation of the hickey. Choso begins to moan louder, the pace he was jerking himself off with your hand increasing, his precum sliding down his veiny cock squelching, as your hand slaps the base of his length erratically.

“You know nothing's gonna show if you don’t put some pressure on” he teases between his sporadic moans.

You internally groan, not fond of your pride being bruised. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he was right with his comment.

You respond by shushing him, using your hand that wasn’t jerking him off to cover his mouth, his soft lips tickling your palm as your fingers rest on the smooth skin of his cheeks.

Choso laughs at this, the motion of his mouth contorting into a smile tickles your palm slightly breaking its resolve of staying on his face as you slightly move it away from his mouth before slamming it back into his face.

You now focus on ‘putting more pressure’ to give him a hickey. Your poor attempt to remember the sensation from when he gave you yours leaves you in a predicament of how exactly he gave you the hickey.

You weigh your options in your mind of whether you should bite him or continue to try and remember how he gave you yours. You choose the former and slightly sink your teeth into his exposed neck. The metallic taste of blood dances on your tongue as you frantically lick the area to stop more of it from seeping through the puncture. Choso's moans get even louder, his body thrusting up from the pleasure whilst your ears feign ignorance to the vulgar sounds leaving his mouth whilst he moves his hand on his cock harder.

The sound of the loud squelching of your hand hitting the base of his big cock alongside Chosos moans fills the air “Fuck, I’m so close” Chosos hand shamelessly squeezes yours tighter as he lewdly pants.

His breath hitches as he hiccups in pleasure as a loud, sticky squelch engulfs the air, Choso's eyes roll back , tears of pleasure leaving them as his moans hiccup in ecstasy.

His legs shake viscerally, his now red, angry tip pumps out warm cum, your hand at the base of his cock now drowned in fat wads of it.

You move away from his now slightly bruised neck, the majority of his blood from his neck licked by your tongue, the metallic taste still in your mouth. Choso uses this opportunity to kiss you once again, your eyes slightly close from the impact whilst Choso whimpers and whispers his gratitude, scattering kisses across your face, his sensitive cock still twitching slightly in your hand. His hand still firmly planted on top of yours as he slowly jerks himself off again, lewd sounds constantly leaving his mouth as he overstimulates his sensitive cock.

You feel the veins on his dick slowly deflating, boner soothed as Choso glides your hand up and down his length, his legs still shaking from his orgasm as he continues to moan in pleasure. He moves away from kissing your face, using his free hand to cover his face as a wave of embarrassment hits him. You peel your eyes slightly open, to take a look at the whimpering mess that Choso’s turned into. His hair slightly covers his face, whilst his hand is doing its best to stifle his moans by covering his mouth. His nose, slightly tinged with red due to his constant crying, whilst his glossy eyes looking back at yours.

Choso's eyes meet yours, “Don’t look at me like that” he stutters out in between his moans as he can slowly feel his cock getting hard again in your grasp, his blood rushing straight to it.

Tears of frustration fills Chosos eyes as he realises what just happened “ No no no, fuck” he moans out in exasperation.

“Are you being serious right now? How is that even humanely possible?” You question as you realise he was now hard again, time was ticking and now you’re both back at square one.

“It’s not something I can control.. please just… please help me again Y/n” he pleads, his hand still covering his mouth whilst the tears that were welling in his eyes begin to fall, embarrassment washing over him.

Conscious of time you agree, slightly nodding your head as you look at Choso. “So what, do you want me to give you a hand job again or something?” You blink at him waiting for a response.

He mumbled something in response, but his response is so quiet it causes you to lean in. “What was that, you’re going to have to speak up if you want me to help.”

“ Can you suck my dick please?” Choso repeats now fully covering his face with his hand in embarrassment.

The sight of Choso begging stirs something inside you, heat pooling between your legs, slightly turning you on. With your new found confidence, you agree but you’re silently dreading sucking his huge cock because you’re sure you might choke on it due to its sheer size. You adjust yourself, moving to sit on your knees.

You gulp, taking a deep breath as you angled your head downwards, slowly meeting with Choso's sensitive tip.

Choso guides your hand that was at the base of his cock towards his balls, prompting you to fondle them. You place your free hand on Choso's thigh to steady yourself whilst your other hand begins to play with his balls.

Impatient, Choso holds the base of his cock with his hand, guiding it towards your face. His tip lands on your cheek, a mix of precum and cum now coated on it as he accidentally rubs his cock on your face, aiming for your mouth.

“Fu-fuck I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Choso groaned out, bucking his hips upwards, his tip traveling across your cheek. He moves his hand from yours to guide his tip towards your plump lips. His warm fingers drag lightly across your face, leaving a thin trail of cum on your cheek.

You slightly part your lips, the taste of Chosos cum entering your mouth, the sticky texture coating your tongue, whilst his twitching tip sat in the gap between your lips. You look up at Choso, whose high off of pleasure, his hand that is now resting on your cheek slightly shaking as he rides the wave of his very recent orgasm. His legs now wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place. His top slightly riding up revealing his abs. Choso looks down at you, savouring the moment in his brain as his red puffy eyes lock with your own set, yours however are not tear stained. He releases his lips from the grip of his teeth for a second, his saliva coating his bottom lip as he returns to bite his lip again to stifle a moan.

“Don’t look at me like that” Choso whispered between moans, your eyes boring into his, testing his patience. He needs you to suck his cock. Badly. All reason flies out of the door for Choso as you flutter your lashes innocently at him, mostly aware of the effect you have on him but you also want to test his limits, this situation clearly feeding your ego.

Choso pushes his tip fully into your mouth, part of his cock making its way into your mouth whilst he adjusts himself to the warm and wet feeling of your mouth on his penis. He moans out in pleasure, his legs tensing up slightly from the movement, crushing you slightly as result whilst his tip hits your uvula pushing it towards the back of your mouth. The action causes your eyes to water, mascara mixing in with your tears as you close your eyes, saliva dribbling out of your mouth — Choso's cock taking up most of the space in your mouth.

You gag slightly, moving away from his cock to catch your breath before going back to suck on it, slowly taking more of him. You grip his thigh to steady yourself as you grab his balls tightly in your other hand, triggering an elicit moan from Choso. He leans his head back as you bob your own head on his cock — preparing yourself to take the rest of it, the veins of his cock pulsating on your lips. Choso lifts his head up, his hand that was resting on your cheek was now moving some of your hair that was sticking on your face away, collecting other free strands into his fist, making his hand a makeshift hair tie.

You begin to pick up the pace, allowing more of Choso's cock to slide down your throat, getting used to the sensation of it all. Maybe it was the alcohol that was causing Choso's moans to now become even more vastly uncontrolled or loud, but he had a huge difficulty in keeping quiet, his mouth covered by one of his hands only seemed to amplify the noise as you continued to go down on him, sucking more and more of him. You mentally thank Gojo for choosing to have loud music each round so no one had an idea of what could possibly be happening in the room until the people themselves walk out.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good to me Angel” Choso moans out rubbing small circles onto your scalp, his dick throbbing actively in your mouth, somehow growing even bigger as he praises you. Wads of precum sputtering out of his tip.

“I can’t take this anymore, I’m so sorry ” Choso groans out as he pushes your head down towards his balls,his patience ran dry causing your nose to clash with the base of his aching penis. A mix of saliva and precum dribbling down your chin as your spit bubbles at the base of his cock. Tears spilling out of your eyes as your mascara rushes down your cheeks. You can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth as you hear his moans get even more louder as he guides your head up and down gently, his hand that was covering his mouth begins to trail down your spine, causing a shiver to travel upwards in your body as his hand lands on your ass squeezing it to signal it reaching its intended destination.

“Fu-fuck, I’m so close [Name]” he slurs out, as he begins to slowly reach an orgasm once again as his gentle pace now quickens — Choso now impatiently fucking your face, his tip sliding down your throat causing a bulge as you dig your nails into his thighs to steady yourself, little crescents forming, the pain causing his moans to become even more louder.

You feel Choso's cock twitch in your throat as he groans, thrusting his hips into the air ,pushing his cock deeper down your throat as he keeps a firm grip on your head, stroking your scalp while moaning out compliments.

“You’re such an angel, God I love you [Name]” Choso continued moaning as he pants desperately, too horny and drunk to comprehend what’s leaving his mouth as he squeezes your head with his thighs, his legs shaking as he begins to feel himself getting closer to release, precum spurting out of his tip uncontrollably making his cock wetter as your rough tongue rubs the shaft of his cock. Choso continues to thrust his hips erratically, moving your head up and down on his cock, whilst he drools — heavily dazed.

“Your mouth is so good” Choso whimpers out as his thighs tense, squeezing your head the closer he gets to an orgasm.

His erratic moans stirred something inside of you too, your core reacting to the lewd sounds, a deep ache throbbing between your legs — his libido rubbing off on you.

His balls swollen with cum, clench under your grip begging to release its fat load into your mouth. “Fu- fuck [Name] I’m gonna- ” Choso whines out between moans as he restlessly moves your head up and down his cock quicker.

Choso’s brows furrow as he lets out a deep, guttural moan cumming hard into your mouth — his head tilted back, only the whites of his eyes visible as he shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as his tip pumps out fat loads of his thick semen down your throat. You move your hand from his balls to place on his other thigh to steady and hoist yourself up from his cock but Choso's grip on your head stays firm — keeping you planted at the base of his cock. His cum continues to pump out of his cock, his tip twitching after every load, a sea of white coating your mouth and spilling out of the sides of your lips before you have the chance to swallow it all up.

Choso’s tight grip on your head relaxes — you pull yourself up from his cock, a vulgar ‘pop!’ leaving your mouth. You begin to wipe your mouth free from Chosos cum, catching your breath and coughing as your eyes begin to wander from the mess in front of you, trailing upwards to stare at Choso, his body sprawled out, legs still shaking as he rides out his orgasm, face flushed as he hiccups out moans.

Choso sits up, cupping your face with his hands as he sprinkles kisses across your face praising and thanking you for your help. You let your mind drift, fantasising on what Choso's hand would be capable of. Clearly Choso’s hornyness had an effect on you like second hand smoking, the heat between your legs beginning to become unbearable — Choso’s sticky cum enveloped between your fingertips bringing you back from your day dream.

“Okay times up!” You hear Gojo shout from the other side of the door, banging it to get the attention of the both of you. This stops Choso, his shaky hands tucking his now slightly flaccid cock back into his boxers zipping up his jeans, he admires your face rubbing off your tear stained mascara from your cheeks before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

The door creaks open and Choso leaves first, you trail behind him, the change in lighting slightly straining your eyes as you make your way back to your spot on the couch next to Yuki.

“So… How’d it go?” Yuki questions boring holes into your face as she notices some of your mascara on your cheeks before she looks down at your fidgeting hands, silently taking note of the sticky residue coated on your fingers.

“Yeah it was okay” you respond, before glancing back at the bottle on the floor, nudging Yuki “Next round’s starting” you mention, watching Gojo spin the bottle again for a new round.

A/N- I’ve always been bad at writing endings so I’m sorry if the ending is poo 💔