Gojo Is Met With A Small Slap To His Face. One That Wakes Him Up From His Stupor, Head Swiveling Around

gojo is met with a small slap to his face. one that wakes him up from his stupor, head swiveling around with barely open eyes. his first instinct is to grab for you, but the only thing he feels is a tiny, plump stomach.

when he opens his eyes wider, his infant daughter is laid next to him, sucking on her favorite binkie. her tiny hand is raised in the air.

you’re laying on the other side of her, passed out and face barely visible from beneath the pillow. he sighs and turns his body towards his daughter. “why are you hitting daddy, hm?” he asks, voice groggy and quiet so he won’t wake you. he knows how you are when you get woken up. “am i snoring again?”

his daughter simply blinks.

he can’t help but smile, pulling her close and laying her on his chest. “fine, fine. i’ll be quiet. it’s too late for you though, little munchkin. go to sleep so daddy can put you to bed.”

his daughter nuzzles her small face into his neck, causing her father to sigh wistfully. he feels himself going back to dreamland, face relaxing.

not even two minutes later, he’s snoring like a hog.

he’s awoken by another smack, harder this time.

Tags

gojo satoru gojo gojo x reader gojo x you dad! gojo satoru girl dad gojo ugh he’s so dreamy ☹️☹️ need to procreate with him

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho

—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.

Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line.

And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.

Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.

The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.

It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.

Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.

He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.

“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.

Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"

“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.

“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”

But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.

The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.

“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.

Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”

“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.

He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.

Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.

But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.

Something is off.

“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”

No response.

“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.

Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket.

And suddenly, he's cracking up.

“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.

You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.

“You sound off.”

Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.

In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.

“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.

“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?

“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.

Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...

“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”

“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”

His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.

He is jealous.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”

“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”

He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.

Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”

"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”

“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”

The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.

“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”

He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.

“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”

“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”

Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.

One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.

“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.

Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.

“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.

His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.

Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.

“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.

His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.

“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.

You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.

“You want this?”

It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.

“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”

Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.

Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.

He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”

A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.

“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”

“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.

He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.

“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.

His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.

Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.

“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.

“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.

Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.

He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.

“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool.

His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”

Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.

“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”

His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.

“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.

“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.

He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.

Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.

A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”

And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy.

But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.

“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.

The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.

You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.

He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.

You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.

His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.

“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.

You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.

“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”

He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.

His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.

Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.

“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.

Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.

And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.

You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.

“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.

You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.

“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.

“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.

He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”

You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”

But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”

You kiss him tenderly.

And he smiles like he's actually in love.

“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”

Tags

squid game squid game 2 squid game x reader squid game s2 kang dae ho player 388 squid game x you squid game x y/n dae ho dae ho squid game kang dae ho x reader squid game smut player 388 x reader dae ho x reader cosmictheo dae ho x you

5K notes View Post

iamyoojin

3 months ago

an imperial command a knight!choso fic

pairing ⸺ knight/warrior!choso x princess!reader

summary ⸺ you, the princess of the nation, and choso, the son of your father's most trusted general, have been inseperable since birth. but after many deem it inappropriate for him to be so close to you, the distance between you and him only deepens after he leaves for war. when he comes back older and a more handsome, bigger version of the choso of your childhood, you both grapple with love, duty, and test the bounds of propierty.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, reader has a vagina, classism? not really, reader may seem pushy at times, not edited, very sweet love confession, happy ending, fingering, breast worship, virgin reader, mutual loss of virginity, mentions of sexism and archaic beliefs about virginity, pathetic choso, soft dom choso, p i v sex, gentle choso :(, me being really horny about his HAPPY TRAIL

a/n it's something about a hot decorated warrior that crumbles at the thought of you...

general masterlist

You and Choso had been inseparable since birth.

As the princess of the realm and the son of the general—your father’s most trusted advisor and sworn brother—it seemed ordained by fate itself that you should become steadfast companions. And companions you were; as babes, you darted through the royal gardens, frolicked in the halls of the palace, and devised schemes to escape the ever-watchful eyes of your tutors. Only the constraints of your education would separate you. You were confined to lessons in the classical tongues, the harp, and courtly diplomacy, while Choso immersed himself in the arts of the sword, the strategies of war, and the unyielding discipline of a soldier.

“Choso!” you squealed, your laughter ringing through the royal gardens as you fled from an imagined dragon. You ran toward him, your skirts billowing behind you, and found him poised and ready. His knees were bent, his gaze unwavering, and his small wooden sword clutched tightly in his hands. He glared past you at the phantom threat with the solemnity of a true knight.

“I will save you, Your Highness!” he roared and lunged, hacking away at the demon passionately. You cheered him on, giggling at his act.

“You’ve done it!” you cheered, clapping your hands in delight. But then your eyes widened in feigned terror. “Look, another one approaches!”

Choso spun around at your warning, his attention diverted just as you had planned. Seizing the moment, you imagined the dreadful beast closing in on his unguarded back.

“Watch out!” you exclaimed, grabbing a fallen branch to defend him. With a bold leap, you placed yourself between Choso and the imagined peril, brandishing your twig as though it were a knight’s blade.

“I’ve got you!” you declared, laughing as you swung your newfound weapon, the pair of you lost in the unrestrained joy of childhood.

Of course, while the king, your father, appreciated you so closely acquainted with his general’s son, your mother did not seem to think it wise that you become estranged from the daughters of nobles; after all, you would need to forge relationships early on to strengthen your future court. This led to many a playdates being interrupted.

“You didn’t need to save me!” Choso whined, pouting while crossing his arms.

However, you held out a pudgy hand, patting his hair as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, Choso. If you ever need saving, I’ll always be there—” “YOUR HIGHNESS!” You heard footsteps running towards where the both of you were sitting idly. When parrying the imaginary monster’s attacks, you had tumbled on top of Choso, your dress and limbs entangled with his and both of your hair unruly. Hearing your governess’ voice led you to pout, for you were sure to earn a scolding for fooling around with Choso rather than practicing the violin for the nth time. Alas, you couldn’t escape her—as well as Choso’s nannies, who had appeared—and you both looked sheepishly at their horrified faces.

Frowning, Choso’s nanny stomped towards the both of you, untangling you both impatiently and, once you were both standing, giving Choso a light smack on his head while bowing towards you. “Your Highness, I apologize, but the both of you mustn’t do such things anymore. You both are far past the age that this is appropriate.”

“What?” You pouted, disappointed in having to back to your room, confined to practice your violin with those dreadful, boring tunes. “What isn’t appropriate about this? We’re just playing—”

“Your Highness,” your governess began, her strained smile barely masking her displeasure. “It is not fitting for a princess to engage in such… undignified behavior. You must remember your station. A young lady of your rank is expected to conduct herself with grace and decorum at all times.”

Choso’s nanny, now tidying his tousled hair with brisk, efficient motions, added in a sharper tone, “And you, young master, should remember your place. You are not her equal but her servant’s son. Such familiarity is unbecoming.”

At her words, Choso’s face turned pale, his gaze dropping to the ground. His hands clenched into small fists at his sides, but he said nothing, his lips pressed tightly together. You could see the effort it took him to remain still, his shoulders stiff with tension.

“Choso?” you called softly, tilting your head to catch his eye.

However, he did not look up, though his voice came, quiet and steady. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I… I won’t do it again.”

Your brows furrowed, your chest tightening at the sight of his downcast expression. “What are you apologizing for?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. “You’ve done nothing wrong! We were only playing.”

“Your Highness!” your governess interjected, her tone scandalized. “Such defiance is unbecoming. You must understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” you snapped, cutting her off. “I understand that I don’t care for these rules. Choso is my friend, and I decide what is and isn’t proper!”

Choso’s nanny inhaled sharply, but he quickly stepped forward, shaking his head fervently. “Please, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “Don’t… don’t say such things for me. I’ll… I’ll do as I’m told. I promise.”

“Choso!” you exclaim, betrayed as the sting of his words settling in your chest. His gaze still refused to meet yours, fixed instead on the ground between you.

Your governess, sensing her victory, straightened. “Your Highness, you must return to your chambers immediately. Your music tutor is waiting. And as for you, Master Choso, your training will resume at once. I trust there will be no further disruptions.”

Neither of you spoke as the governess and the nanny ushered you away in opposite directions, their sharp voices ringing in your ears. Yet, as you glanced over your shoulder, you caught one last fleeting glimpse of Choso, his hesitant gaze finally meeting yours for the briefest of moments. It held a quiet resolve that only deepened your frustration.

“Wait and see,” you muttered under your breath as you were dragged back toward your chambers. “I’ll change this someday.”

That was the last time he ever spoke your name aloud; now, you were only Your Highness and The Royal Princess. It irritated you to no end; you were his friend, not his superior. But he insisted, falling deeper and deeper into the depths of social proprietary and hierarchy his nannies and parents were no doubt pressuring him into. You could only take what you had; if he was refusing your affection, he would at least not refuse royal commands of rendezvous.

Years had gracefully unfolded since that day, and now, as teenagers, your clandestine meetings in the royal gardens had blossomed into cherished rituals beneath the cloak of night. The gardens, adorned with that glowed under the moon's gentle gaze, became the sanctuary where you and Choso could momentarily escape the rigid expectations of courtly life.

As you approached the secluded alcove near the ancient marble fountain, your heart fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement.

And there he was.

Choso waited beneath the willow tree, his dark eyes darting between the swaying branches and the dimly lit path beyond. The shadows stretched long in the garden, and the faint sound of patrolling guards put a furrow in his brow. He shifted on his feet, arms crossed tightly as though bracing himself for some reprimand.

When you finally appeared, dressed in your lighter night robes, he let out a small breath of relief. “Your Highness, you shouldn’t—”

“Can you stop that?” You whine, brushing him off and making a move to sit in the swing right by the tree. You lightly swing your feet, establishing a gentle rhythm while you grin mischievously at him, meeting your lighthearted eyes with his furrowed, slightly worried ones. “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Choso. No one’s going to catch us.”

He can only shake his head, for after years of friendship had led him to know one universal truth: if there was one thing, it was that your mind, once resolute, could not be changed. “I don’t know how you keep wanting to risk them discovering this.” Then, he sighs, lamenting weakly, “and why I have to dragged into this.”

You flash him an innocent smile, about to give a cocky response about how you’re the princess and it’s not like Choso doesn’t want this…right? but both of you pause, deadly still, when you hear the undeniable clinks of armor.

Patrolling guards.

Choso’s head snapped toward the sound, his body going rigid. It kind of dazes you, in a way, how his curriculum as a warrior leads him to be so alert. It’s also this moment that you realize how grown you both are becoming; it feels as if you’re stuck as a dainty princess, while he’s steadily growing taller and bigger, a smaller picture of his formidable father.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

You froze, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with him before instinctively ducking behind the grand marble fountain. The cold stone pressed against your back as the guards’ footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the bobbing light of their lanterns.

“Who’s there?” one of them called out, his voice sharp and commanding.

Choso shifted beside you, his breath quick and shallow. Your hand brushed against his arm in reassurance, but it did little to ease the tension radiating off him. The guards’ lanterns swept methodically across the gardens, their shadows flickering on the trees.

“Stay still,” Choso mouthed, his dark eyes fixed on the approaching light.

The guards drew closer, their boots crunching against the gravel path. You could feel your pulse hammering in your ears, each second dragging on unbearably.

Then, a faint rustle to your left—a squirrel darting across the underbrush. The guards turned toward the noise, their lanterns swinging wide.

“Must’ve been an animal,” one muttered, though he sounded unconvinced.

“Keep looking,” the other replied gruffly. “The king’s orders were clear—no one’s to linger in the gardens after dark.”

The pair continued past, their voices fading as they moved toward the far side of the grounds.

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could fully relax, Choso grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. “We need to go deeper,” he said urgently, his voice low.

Without waiting for your agreement, he led you away from the fountain, weaving through the hedges and into the denser parts of the forest. The shadows thickened as the soft glow of the garden lanterns disappeared behind you. Branches brushed against your arms, and the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves filled the air as you ran.

“Choso!” you whispered breathlessly, struggling to keep up with his longer strides. “They’re gone!”

“Not far enough,” he replied, glancing back at you. “We can’t risk them doubling back.”

The forest grew darker the deeper you went, the canopy above blocking out most of the moonlight. Finally, when the sound of your own breathing seemed louder than anything else, Choso slowed to a halt beneath a towering oak.

“We should be safe here,” he murmured, releasing your hand.

You both sank to the ground, the soft carpet of moss cushioning your fall. For a moment, neither of you spoke, too winded to do anything but sit there, catching your breath. Then, a stifled giggle bubbled out of you, unable to contain the absurdity of the chase.

Choso shot you a warning look, but his resolve cracked when you pressed your hands over your mouth, failing to muffle your laughter. A small laugh escaped him in turn, and soon you were both doubled over, trying in vain to quiet yourselves.

“Shhh!” Choso whispered, though he was grinning. “You’ll get us caught.”

“You’re the loud one,” you whispered back, nudging him playfully.

Soon, the laughter slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Choso leaned back against the tree, his expression softening as he glanced up at the canopy. His eyes caught on something above, and he pointed. “Look—fruit.”

Following his gaze, you spotted the cluster of small, round pomengrenates hanging from a low branch. Choso stood, brushing dirt from his trousers, and reached up to pluck one. He examined it briefly before biting into it, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

“Are you just going to eat that without offering me one?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He smirked, holding another pomengrenate aloft. “You want it?”

“Obviously.”

But instead of handing it over, Choso lifted it above his head, his smirk widening. “Come and get it.” You stood up, moving closer to him to make a motion to grab the fruit. Alas, the effort was not fruitful.

“Choso!” you hissed, glaring at him as he kept the fruit just out of reach. You try many things: you grab his shoulder, tickle him on his stomach, and arms. However, it all is in vain.

“You’re the one who wants it,” he said, his head peering down at you in amusement.

You stood, determination written all over your face. “Fine. If you think I can’t—”

You leapt, swatting at his hand, but he easily moved the fruit higher, his height giving him the upper hand.

“You’re insufferable!” you said, laughing despite yourself as you tried again, this time jumping with more force. Still, you missed.

“Perhaps you should’ve been born taller,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Or perhaps you should stop being such a—” Before you could finish, he lowered the fruit suddenly, pressing it into your hand.

“There,” he said, smirking. “Satisfied?”

You took a triumphant bite, your glare softening into a grin. “For now.”

Settling back down, you both shared the fruit in companionable silence, the earlier tension of the night dissipating in the quiet forest. Yet, as you sat side by side, something about the way his gaze lingered on you—or perhaps the warmth blooming in your chest—made you wonder if these late-night meetings were becoming something more.

And then, years later, he left for war. Choso left for the battlefield, summoned to serve alongside his father as the general’s son.

The morning he departed was etched into your memory with painful clarity. The air was crisp, the kind that stung your lungs when you breathed too deeply, and the courtyard was alive with the sounds of preparation. Soldiers moved with purpose, their boots striking against the cobblestones in rhythmic determination. Horses snorted and pawed at the ground, their breaths rising like smoke in the cold air.

You stood at the edge of it all, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, trying to keep your expression composed. This was no place for a princess to display her feelings, no matter how tightly they knotted in her chest. Your father was nearby, speaking with the general in low, serious tones, his gaze sweeping over the troops with pride. Your mother was absent, as always, too preoccupied with courtly matters to concern herself with the departure of soldiers—even one who had once been your constant companion.

When Choso emerged from the crowd, his figure clad in the red, utilitarian uniform of a soldier, it was as though the rest of the scene blurred. The boy who had once darted through the gardens with you, his hair wild and his hands dirtied by mischief, now looked every inch the man his father had raised him to be. His hair was tied back, his face set in an unreadable mask of calm, and he carried himself with a solemnity that felt foreign.

He always did make you feel like a child. While you were still delaying acceptance of your fate as the princes—future queen—-he had grown into a man, fated to be a war general.

He approached slowly, each step deliberate. When he stopped before you, he did not smile. Instead, he bowed low, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours. “Your Highness—”

But you had enough of that godforsaken title. “Why must you leave?” You cried, your voice breaking as Choso stood before you in the courtyard.

The image of the steeled soldier crumbled as his eyes softened in fondness and melancholy. “You know I must.”

You shook your head fervently, as if to vehemently deny what was undeniably the truth. “You know that’s not true.” And it wasn’t, for it would only take an imperial command of yours to bar him from ever entering the battlefield.

But it was his dream; you saw the way he looked at his father. To deny Choso the sword and the glory he was destined for was to chain him down, and you knew that. So instead, you shook off the idea, then blurted, “You’ll write to me, won’t you?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with expectation. He hesitated, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “If time allows.”

That was all he offered. No promises. No reassurances. Just a vague, distant answer that left your heart sinking.

Outraged, and a bit petulant, you exclaimed. “What do you mean if time allows? Will you be so busy that you won’t have time? Are you not at least going to grant me some peace of mi—what is that?”

In the corner of your eye, you see something in his hand catch the sunlight, and glimmer. He hesitates, his hand clenching before inevitably opening his palm. A timid, “For you, Your Highness.”

An instinctual don’t call me that dies out in your throat as he shows you what he was hiding. In it he uncovers a small, delicate object—a pin shaped like a blooming flower, its petals carved with meticulous detail and painted in hues of white and gold.

You stared at it, your hands trembling as you took it from him. “What is this for?”

“It’s a symbol,” he explained, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Of where I’ll always be, even if I’m not here. Keep it with you, and you’ll know that... that I’ll do everything I can to return.”

“Oh, Choso.” Your bottom lip trembled as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your fingers closed around the pin, the intricate craftsmanship biting into your palm. Somehow, the weight of it felt heavier than it should’ve been. “I don’t want a pin, Choso,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I want you to stay.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might reach out to you. But then he stilled, the rigidity in his posture a clear reminder of the boundaries he refused to cross.

Even so, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. The gift, despite your pain, was beautiful, and its meaning wasn’t lost on you. You sniffled, brushing a tear from your cheek with a trembling hand. “But it is beautiful, regardless,” you murmured, holding it up to the light. The golden edges of the petals gleamed softly, like sunlight captured in metal. “Put it in my hair?”

Choso blinked, caught off guard by the request. His gaze flickered between you and the pin, uncertainty etched into his features. “Your Highness, I—”

“Please,” you interrupted gently, tilting your head slightly toward him. “Just this once.”

He hesitated for a long moment, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he were battling some internal conflict. Finally, with a barely audible sigh, he reached out and took the pin from your hand.

You held your breath as he stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. His hand brushed against your hair and your neck as he carefully gathered a small section, his touch warm and deliberate. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips, earned from countless hours of swordsmanship, yet his movements were painstakingly gentle.

“There,” he said softly, stepping back to examine his work. His gaze lingered on you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his formal mask cracked ever so slightly. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unspoken—that made your chest tighten.

You reached up instinctively, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of the pin now nestled securely in your hair. “How does it look?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the lump in your throat made it difficult.

Choso’s lips parted, but no words came. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting away as if he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. “It’s beautiful,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The horn sounded again, louder this time, breaking the fragile moment between you. Choso stepped back, the walls of propriety rising between you once more.

“Thank you,” you managed, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

He bowed deeply, avoiding your eyes. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the faint scent of earth and steel, the pin in your hair a bittersweet reminder of the distance that now separated you.

For weeks after, you found yourself restless, wandering the garden paths where you had once talked and laughed together. You scribbled letter after letter, pouring out questions and updates, recounting bits of palace gossip and even sending sketches of the places you’d been. But no reply ever came.

At first, you tried to excuse it—surely, he was too busy, too occupied with the rigors of war to respond. Still, you kept writing, sending your letters to the front lines with the faint hope that one day, you’d receive one in return.

“Any news of the general’s son?” you would ask your father over dinner, feigning casual interest.

“He’s doing well,” your father would reply, distractedly cutting into his meal. “His tactics in the northern campaign have earned him commendation. A fine young soldier.”

You pressed further, ignoring the disapproving look your mother shot you. “And... is he safe?”

Your father raised a brow but indulged you. “Of course. The reports say he’s advancing quickly through the ranks. A promotion to captain is already under consideration.”

Your chest swelled with pride at the thought, but it was quickly eclipsed by frustration. If he was receiving such accolades, surely he could find the time to write a simple letter?

“Why do you trouble your father with such questions?” your mother chided later, her tone clipped. “The general’s son is serving the nation. You should focus on more important matters, like preparing for your duties.”

But your concern for Choso only grew. Whenever news from the front lines arrived, you would listen intently, hoping to hear his name mentioned. When you did, it brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it never lasted long.

The silence from him felt heavier with each passing month. You couldn’t understand it—how could someone who had once been your closest companion, who had sworn to always protect you, sever that bond so easily?

And yet, you never stopped writing. Each letter was folded with care, sealed with your personal wax stamp, and sent off with the same unwavering hope. Even if he didn’t reply, even if you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

The city was alive with celebration, a symphony of cheers, music, and the occasional crackle of fireworks that lit up the night sky. The soldiers had finally come home after a long winded war, and you just couldn’t miss out on the excitement. After Choso’s departure, you had grown. Before you were a gangly teenager, but now you were a young woman. With this came you forming your own opinion, independent of our parents, and had developed a habit of frequently sneaking out of the palace.

You couldn’t bear to stay confined to the palace, not when the air was thick with excitement and the news of the army’s triumphant return had set the entire city alight. The soldiers, clad in polished armor that gleamed even in the dim light, strode through the streets in small groups while the people cheered on the sidelines. They carried themselves with the confidence of men who had seen battle and emerged victorious.

Young ladies lingered at the edges of the crowd, their eyes alight with hope as they watched the soldiers pass. Some called out to them, their voices playful and lilting, while others merely smiled shyly, clutching kerchiefs or flowers they clearly longed to offer. The soldiers, for the most part, maintained a stoic demeanor, though a few exchanged grins or nodded in acknowledgment, their faces betraying a mix of pride and exhaustion.

Children darted between legs, waving tiny flags and shouting in delight, while their parents looked on with a mix of relief and gratitude. The scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine wafted through the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the soldiers’ armor. It was a night of unity, of celebration, where the lines between commoner and noble blurred in the shared joy of victory.

Draped in a simple cloak to conceal your identity, you slipped past the guards at the palace gates, your heart pounding with both exhilaration and trepidation. The anonymity of the cloak felt liberating as you merged with the crowd, the world suddenly vast and unguarded in a way it never was within the palace walls.

Laughter surrounded you, the contagious energy of the revelry lifting your spirits as you wandered farther from the familiar confines of royal life. You paused to admire a street performer juggling flaming torches, your cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. But before you could move on, a sudden gust snatched the handkerchief tucked into your cloak.

You gasped, your fingers grasping for it, but the delicate fabric was already airborne, dancing above the heads of the crowd. You watched helplessly as it soared higher, carried by the playful wind. Instinctively, you gave chase, weaving through the throng of revelers as your heart raced with the thrill of pursuit.

The handkerchief drifted out of sight, disappearing beyond the swell of people. Your steps faltered, and you stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd in vain. It was only then that a firm hand shot up above the sea of heads, catching the fluttering fabric mid-air. The sight of your handkerchief, caught in a strong, gloved grip, sent a jolt through you.

Your gaze traveled upward, and there he stood—a figure that was at once familiar and startlingly different. His broad shoulders and proud stance were unmistakable even before he turned, his dark eyes locking with yours.

“Your Highness?” His voice was deep, steady, and entirely too familiar. Then, his eyes went to your hair—you, still wearing the hairpin he gave you that day—and they filled with a conflicted, longing sort of expression.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you froze. He looked so much…bigger. He always had muscles due to his frequent physical lessons, but he was so much taller now, his face a lot more sculpted. Before you could interpret what the lurching in your heart meant, he took a step towards you. But before he could take another step toward you, you turned and ran instinctively, the sound of his voice chasing you as surely as his footsteps.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! If Choso knew you had sneaked out, he would send you right back, citing useless things about duty and protecting you. While your traitorous heart started beating faster as soon as you saw him—different, but still undeniably Choso—you knew your liberty was at an end if he sent you home and informed your parents of what you did.

You bolted as fast as you could, your cloak billowing behind you as you darted into a narrow alley. Footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, heavy and deliberate, chasing you down. You reached the end of the alley and stopped, your chest heaving, unsure whether to keep running or face him.

“Your Highness,” the voice came again, closer this time.

You spun around, and there he was. Choso. But he wasn’t the boy you remembered—he was a man now. Broad shoulders filled out his uniform, the insignia of his rank glinting on his chest. His hair was tied back, revealing a face hardened by battle and time. Yet his eyes, dark and intense, still held the same quiet depth you’d known as children.

He dropped to one knee, his hand over his heart. “Your Highness.”

You gaped at his display. Since when did he start kneeling? “What are you doing?”

His voice came out, devoid of the warmth you had once known. “It’s protocol, Your Highness.” His head remained bowed, his knee pressed to the uneven cobblestones, the hand holding your handkerchief resting against his heart.

But you were in denial, scrambling to pull him up by his arms. It was futile; he was way stronger than you, and at your touch, he jumped back, as if stung. Wounded, you urged him. “Get up,” you stepped closer, “Choso, it’s me. You don’t need to—”

“I must, Your Highness.” His tone was calm but resolute, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Unless you are issuing an imperial command, I have no choice but to honor the rules set forth by your station.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “An imperial command?” The words tasted bitter on your tongue. You didn’t want commands; you wanted familiarity, the easy camaraderie you once shared.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “If you do not wish me to kneel, then say it as such. Otherwise…” He lowered his head again. “This is my place.”

“Your place?” You felt a flicker of anger rise in your chest. “Choso, your place is by my side, as it always has been! Don’t—don’t treat me like some distant monarch.”

His shoulders tensed, and you thought you caught a flash of something—guilt, perhaps?—in the way his fingers tightened around the handkerchief. But still, he didn’t move.

Frustrated, you stepped even closer, your voice rising despite your efforts to remain calm. “Get up,” you said, reaching out and tugging at his arm. “I said, get up!”

“I cannot,” he said softly, the words cutting through your frustration like a blade. “Not unless you order it as my superior.”

You stared at him, a mix of hurt and disbelief swirling in your chest. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “If that’s what it takes, then I command you—get up, Choso. I command you to stand!”

For a moment, the tension lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Slowly, reluctantly, he rose to his feet, towering over you with a presence that felt both familiar and foreign.

But as you looked up at him, your frustration only grew. “This isn’t you,” you said, your voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “You’re treating me like I’m just your princess, like I’m someone you barely know. Do you even know how much it hurt when you never wrote back to me? I kept sending letter after letter, but it was like you didn’t care. Like you forgot about me.”

Choso’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “It wasn’t my place to respond, Your Highness.”

It was that damn phrase. “Your place?” you echoed, now even more bitterly. “You were my friend, Choso. My closest friend. Now you stand here, calling me Your Highness like I’m a stranger, like we never ran through the gardens or talked under the stars. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

For a moment, his expression softened, but it was fleeting. He straightened, his demeanor distant once more. “It’s dangerous for you to be here,” he said quietly. “I need to call for a carriage to take you back to the palace.”

Your heart sunk to your derriere. If Choso did indeed send you back, your parents would undeniably discover that you’ve been sneaking out. “No!” you snapped, stepping forward. “You can’t. If my parents find out I was here, they’ll—”

“They’ll ensure your safety,” he interrupted, his voice steady but firm. “And that’s what matters.”

You stared at him, now anger bubbling in your chest. “So you’ll just hand me over like I’m some burden to be dealt with? What about you?” Then, in a strong fit, you bursted out. “Are you going to stay here and fool around with girls while I’m locked away in the palace?”

His eyes widened briefly at your accusation, a flicker of surprise breaking through his stoic mask. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly.

“Fair?” you shot back, your voice trembling. “What’s fair about any of this, Choso? You’re not even trying to fight for us—for the friendship we used to have.”

He hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then make it simple!” you demanded, your heart aching with every word. “Stop pushing me away. Stop acting like I don’t matter to you anymore.”

For a moment, you thought he might say something—something real, something that would bridge the growing chasm between you. But instead, he turned away, his voice steady and distant as he said, “Wait here. I’ll call for the carriage.”

You watched him walk away, the ache in your chest spreading until it felt like it would consume you entirely. The handkerchief in your hand trembled as you clenched your fingers around it, your anger and sadness swirling into a storm of emotion.

And yet, even as he disappeared into the bustling streets, a part of you refused to believe this was the end. You couldn’t let it be.

Ever since his return to the palace, Choso has been ignoring you.

It’s not that you were spending every hour and every minute with him before, when he was just your childhood friend. However, you would meet everyday, whether it to be sneak off into the gardens at night, or meet for lunch or dinner. Even a request of yours could’ve secured a visit to town, the both of you going to town to eat pastries and street food while accompanied by a chaperone. Of course, that was due to your incessant pleas to your disapproving mother, but you could score an occasional playdate outside the palace every month or so.

But it feels…different. And he feels different.

You oft find yourself daydreaming about him, older and a decorated soldier. And before you can catch yourself, you find your cheeks heated and your heart set aflutter. It’s a bit mind-boggling, really. Ever since Choso left, none of the future dukes and lords had ever caught your attention, even at balls. Their gentle, weak disposition didn’t compare to your Choso, you always thought. Back then, you had always thought of it as pride for your best friend, but now…..

Musing aside, you’re tired of this distance Choso has created between you. So you choose to seek him out.

The castle courtyard was alive with the sharp clang of swords and the rhythmic stomp of boots on hard-packed dirt. You leaned over the balustrade of the upper terrace, concealed behind a stone pillar, watching the soldiers below. It wasn’t the sparring or the strategy that captivated you—it was Choso.

The sun bore down on him as he moved with precision and power, his blade a silver blur as he sparred with one of the veteran knights. His whole torso is bare; damp with sweat, the sun shines against the cords and cords of muscle that then lead to a string of hair that trails into his trousers. The muscles in his arms ripple with every swing and parry. You bite your lip, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks that you stubbornly attributed to the summer heat.

He had changed so much. Gone was the boy who had laughed with you under the willow tree and run with you through the gardens. In his place was a man who carried the weight of war on his broad shoulders, his every movement deliberate, his expression unreadable. And yet, despite the distance he put between you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

When the sparring session ended, Choso handed his sword to a squire and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. You straightened as he turned, half-expecting him to glance up and spot you. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke briefly to the knight, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. You couldn’t keep hiding and watching from afar. You had to speak to him, to demand answers for why he had been avoiding you since the day in the alley.

Quickly, you made your way down to the courtyard, your pulse racing as you rehearsed what you would say. But when you reached the training grounds, Choso was already heading toward the barracks.

“Choso!” you called out, your voice echoing across the courtyard.

He froze mid-step, his shoulders tensing before he turned slowly to face you. His expression was neutral, guarded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masked.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head. “What brings you here?”

You frowned, frustrated by the formality in his tone. “I wanted to speak with you,” you said, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been busy with training and my duties.”

“That’s a lie,” you said, crossing your arms. “You always find a reason to leave whenever I try to approach you. You didn’t even look at me after the alley—”

“Your Highness,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not proper for you to be seen in the training grounds.”

“Proper?” you repeated, anger flaring in your chest. “Since when do you care about what’s proper? You didn’t care when we were sneaking out or when we were running through the gardens—”

“That was different,” he said, his tone softer now. “We were children. Things aren’t the same anymore.”

“Why not?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the soldiers milling about in the distance. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said finally. “I’m doing what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “How can ignoring me and avoiding me be what’s best for me?”

Choso didn’t answer. Instead, he bowed his head again, his hands clenched at his sides. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I need to return to my duties.”

And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the courtyard, your heart aching with every step he took.

You paced the length of your chambers, clutching the skirts of your dress. It’s been two times that Choso dismissed since his arrival. Did he abhor you so?

It was as if an invisible wall had been erected between you, the builder of it Choso for some mysterious reason. Proprietary aside, it would be okay for the occasional chat, would it not? After all, he was still a noble in his own regard, and a conversation or two wouldn’t be frowned upon. So why was he ignoring you entirely?

You couldn’t take it anymore. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would ensure he had no choice but to stay by your side. If he truly detests it, you will let him go, no matter how painful it would be and how ardently you would mourn your friendship. But you needed to know.

Resolved, you marched to your parents’ audience chamber, where they were seated in quiet discussion. Your father looked up first, his brows furrowing slightly at your abrupt entrance. “What is it, my dear? You seem troubled.”

Your mother glanced at you as well, seated right next to the king, her sharp gaze assessing. “Has something happened?”

You straightened your shoulders, facing them both, willing your voice to remain steady. “Father, Mother, I have a request.”

Your father tilted his head, curious. “Go on.”

You hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “I would like Choso to be assigned as my personal guard.”

The queen blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line, and questioned, “Choso?”

“Yes,” you said quickly to prevent your mother from getting a word in. “He’s proven himself in battle, hasn’t he? He’s been promoted several times for his skill and loyalty. Who better to protect me?”

Your father leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “It’s true he’s risen quickly through the ranks. He’s a fine soldier.”

“And he’s someone I trust,” you added, stepping closer. “He’s been by my side since we were children. I feel safer with him than with anyone else. With me growing into adulthood, there would be no one better to be by my side.”

Your mother’s gaze sharpened. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with his recent return to the palace, would it?”

You met her eyes, refusing to back down. “It has everything to do with the fact that I need someone I can rely on. Someone who knows me.”

Your father exchanged a look with your mother, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. I will speak to the general about the arrangement.” Then, a little wryly, he adds, “Although, I did hear that it was him that reported you when you were sneaking out in public. Perhaps it would be a fine match.” At that, your mother visibly bristled at the memory of hearing that you were out, unguarded.

At the king’s words, relief washed over you, but it was quickly tempered by your mother’s stern voice. “This is highly unusual, you know. A princess requesting a specific guard. People will talk.”

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes, but showing sass to your mother would mean that she would argue further. Instead, you went and showed her your pride. “Let them,” you said, lifting your chin. “I don’t care what they say.”

Your father chuckled softly, knowing you would say something of the sort. “Spoken like a true princess.”

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “Both of you, Father and Mother.”

As you left the chamber, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was your chance—your chance to bring Choso back into your life. Whatever walls he had built between you, you were determined to tear them down.

The water was warm, steam curling gently around you as you leaned back in the large marble tub. The golden light of the setting sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the tiled floor. It was one of the few moments you had to yourself, free from the watchful eyes of attendants and the endless constraints of royal duty. You closed your eyes, sinking deeper into the water, allowing yourself to relax—until the door to your bathing chamber slammed open.

“Your Highness, why did you—” At first, Choso raised his voice slightly, storming in. Then, he stopped right in his tracks as he noticed you, and your face, your neck and then the rest of your body engorged in soapy, steamy water. Blushing furiously, he turned, scrambling for the door. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to—”

He was rigid as he stormed toward the exit, and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the sight. “Choso, wait,” you called, your voice laced with amusement. He stopped abruptly, halting awkwardly in his tracks. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm for your new title,” you teased, “I’d prefer if you didn’t barge into the bathing chamber. Let us count ourselves lucky that you had not seen… more.”

It was nearly impossible not to laugh now. Even the back of his neck was flushed a deep crimson, and it struck you as absurdly endearing. The aloof and stoic soldier who had spent weeks ignoring you had crumbled into a shy boy at the mere sight of you in a tub. You supposed it made sense—he’d likely not had much interaction with women, what with his rigid dedication to the army. Still, his reaction felt... exaggerated.

Choso let out a shaky exhale, his voice strained when he finally spoke. “I apologize,” he said, his tone clipped as though to mask his discomfort. “But I must ask—why did you instate me as your guard?”

The answer was simple, and you played absentmindedly with a soap bubble as you replied, “Because there is no one I trust more than you.”

For a moment, the room was silent save for the faint dripping of water. Then, Choso spoke, his voice low and almost pained. “Why must you do this to me? Why must you torment me so?”

What?

His words pierced through the lighthearted atmosphere, leaving you stunned. A pang of hurt welled in your chest at the sharpness of his tone. “Does it torment you to be in my company?” you asked, laughing scornfully to hide the sting.

When he didn’t answer, the silence was louder than any words could have been.

“If it torments you,” you continued bitterly, “then so be it. You have already had my one liberty stripped away. Mother and Father have doubled the surveillance on me, all thanks to you.” The memory of your recent restrictions only added fuel to the fire of your frustration. “Is this not fair? An eye for an eye, then. Perhaps your torment will teach you to stop pretending you know what’s best for me.”

Still brimming with anger, you lifted your chin and gestured to the door. “You may leave now.”

For a moment, he stood there, the weight of his presence filling the room. Then, with a stiff nod, he turned to the door. “Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice cold and formal.

And then, he was gone.

You really do abhor dinner parties.

There’s much wrong with them, and if you had to, you could do a systematic rundown of every single grievance. The first and foremost was the absurd inability to properly enjoy the food. The chefs’ hard work deserved to be indulged in, not nibbled delicately with those ridiculous little spoons. And then there was the matter of breathing, which you could barely manage with your waist cinched so tightly and your bodice forcing your chest up like some cruel display. Sitting down practically demanded you forgo the simple luxury of air.

But the worst part? Having to entertain men.

“And I have acquired double the profits of Lord Gojo,” Lord Naoya declared, puffing his chest like a rooster preening in the henhouse. His voice boomed with self-importance, his words spilling out in a showy, rehearsed cadence.

You couldn’t help yourself—you smiled. And while it appeared to him as admiration, it was born of pure amusement. The man clearly thought you were too dim to know better, but you were well-versed in state finances. Lord Naoya’s exaggerated claims were as transparent as glass.

On your right, Choso sat silently, his role as your personal guard justifying his unusually close position. He had been quiet all evening, his eyes scanning the room more than his plate.

“And surely, a woman as lovely as yourself would agree that business acumen is the truest mark of a man’s value,” Naoya continued, leaning closer to you with a smirk you found utterly punchable.

You giggled, not at his words, but at the sheer absurdity of them. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, but your amusement couldn’t be fully hidden.

When you finally turned to glance at Choso, however, your mirth faltered. He wasn’t looking at Naoya anymore—his dark eyes were locked on you, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

He looked very upset.

You blinked, confused, before glancing back at Naoya, who was still prattling on, utterly oblivious. Was Choso… angry at you?

It didn’t make sense. After you had initiated him as your guard, he’d been resigned after that confrontation in your bathing chambers. Ever since, you’d seen him stoic, protective, and even exasperated, but this—this was different. The weight of his gaze lingered on you like a reprimand, and it unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

“Your Highness, I trust you’d agree,” Naoya pressed, oblivious to the charged air.

“Agree?” you echoed, snapping back to attention. You hadn’t been listening, too distracted by Choso’s silent brooding. “Oh, of course,” you said vaguely, waving your hand with a polite smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Naoya looked pleased with himself, but you barely noticed. Your focus shifted back to Choso, who had turned his head forward, his jaw tight. You leaned closer to him, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Is something the matter?”

He didn’t look at you, his tone curt. “Nothing, Your Highness.”

Your stomach twisted at the formality. The night had already been exhausting enough, and now Choso was acting like you’d personally offended him.

“Choso,” you pressed, your voice softer now, “if I’ve done something to upset you—”

“It’s not my place to say,” he interrupted, finally looking at you. His gaze was sharp, cutting through your defenses. “But if I may offer counsel, I’d suggest not wasting your smiles on men like him.”

You blinked, taken aback. His words weren’t loud, but they struck with the force of a hammer.

“What does that mean?” you whispered, your amusement long gone, replaced by confusion—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It means,” Choso said, his voice low, “that he’s not worth it.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication.

Before you could respond, the clinking of glasses drew everyone’s attention, and you were forced to look away as a toast was made. But even as the room filled with polite applause and laughter, your thoughts were consumed by Choso’s quiet but pointed remarks.

When you glanced back at him, his focus was elsewhere, his expression carefully neutral. Yet something about the tension in his shoulders told you that the conversation wasn’t over—not really.

And for the rest of the evening, Naoya’s words became nothing more than background noise, drowned out by the quiet storm brewing in Choso’s eyes.

The air in your chambers was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace soothing you as your maid finished tugging the laces of your nightgown into place. The fabric was delicate, thin enough to feel the cool evening breeze against your skin despite the room's warmth. With a bow, the maid excused herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Ever since that dinner party with Naoya, Choso had been more distant than ever. Before, it had seemed that he had warmed up to the task of being your guard; whenever you walked through the garden, you eventually warmed him enough that the both of you could converse during the stroll. Of course, it hadn’t returned to what it was like before, but it was still progress. However, now it seemed that all he had to offer was curt responses and avoidant stares.

The change grated on you, more than you cared to admit. You weren’t naïve; you knew something had shifted that night. The way he had looked at you, the way his words had cut—it all lingered, a splinter in your chest that you couldn’t pull free.

Still, tonight was meant to be routine, a brief reprieve from the emotional turmoil. You always ended your evenings with a massage, a small luxury that helped soothe the tension from the day. Summoning Choso to your chambers, you intended for him to call for the maid who usually performed the task.

When he arrived, his expression was as stony as ever. “You called for me, Your Highness?”

“Yes, Choso,” you said, smoothing your hands over the hem of your nightgown. You lazed back on your chaise lounge, head against pillow as you looked at him. “I need the maid for my massage. Could you fetch her?”

He hesitated. “The maids have retired for the night. Shall I summon someone from the servants’ quarters?”

You frowned. The thought of disturbing anyone at this hour felt excessive. Then, your gaze drifted to Choso, his broad shoulders rigid, his hands clasped behind his back in his usual formal stance. An idea struck you, and you spoke before fully thinking it through.

“Then you’ll do it.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours, wide with disbelief. “Your Highness, I—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence but unable to fully hide the mischief in your smile. “Oh, come now, Choso. You’re stronger than any maid. Surely, your hands would be better suited for the task.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you as though you’d just declared the sky was green. His lips parted, but no words came out, his gaze darting nervously around the room before settling back on you. “I don’t think that’s… appropriate,” he said carefully, his voice low and strained.

You leaned back slightly, arching a brow. “And why not? It’s just a massage. Surely, as my personal guard, it’s your duty to ensure my comfort, no?”

“Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you interrupted, your tone softening as you leaned forward slightly, letting your hair cascade over one shoulder. “You’ve sworn an oath to protect me. Are you really going to deny me such a simple request? Besides,” you added with a teasing smile, “I trust you. Who better to take care of me?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his shoulders visibly tensing. It was rare to see him so uncharacteristically flustered, and you found it almost endearing. Still, you could see the war waging behind his eyes—the struggle between his rigid sense of propriety and his inability to deny you.

“Choso,” you said again, gentler this time, “it’s just us here. No one else needs to know. Please?”

The word seemed to undo him. After a long, weighted pause, he exhaled sharply, his hands clenching at his sides before he gave a stiff nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You smiled in satisfaction and shifted, lying down on the chaise lounge with your head resting on your folded arms. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your back and shoulders, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid it no mind. Choso, however, hesitated, his gaze flickering over you before he finally moved to kneel beside you, his movements almost painfully hesitant.

You settled onto the chaise lounge, lying on your stomach and pulling your hair over one shoulder to expose the curve of your neck. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your body, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid no mind to it. Choso, however, lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his dark eyes flickering over the exposed skin before quickly darting away.

The tension in the room was palpable, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his hesitation. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until finally, he knelt beside you, his movements stiff and deliberate. His hands hovered just above your shoulders for a moment, as if he were debating whether to go through with it, before he finally made contact.

The first press of his palms was firm, his calloused hands warm against your skin. He worked in silence, but his touch was tentative, almost reluctant, as though every movement was a battle against himself. His fingers found the knots in your shoulders, but his grip tightened slightly as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“You’re good at this,” you murmured, your voice languid. “I should’ve asked you sooner.”

Choso didn’t respond, but his hands stilled for the briefest moment, his jaw tightening. He resumed a beat later, his touch growing more confident as his fingers moved lower, kneading along the length of your spine. Yet, there was something almost possessive in the way he worked, his hands lingering at the curve of your back, brushing the edges of your nightgown with an intimacy that felt deliberate, even if unspoken.

Heat pooled in your belly, but the mood shifted when Choso spoke, his voice low and edged with something that made your breath catch.

“Do you let all your guards do this to you?”

Your eyes snapped open, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the haze. You turned your head to look at him, frowning. “What?”

He straightened, pulling his hands away, anger visible on his face. “Do you let all your guards touch you like this, or am I just the special fool?”

The accusation in his voice stung. You sat up on the chaise lounge, clutching the fabric of your nightgown to your chest. “What are you implying?”

“I’m implying,” he said, his eyes dark and filled with something unnameable, “that you smiled at Naoya like he was the only man in the room. That you entertained his nonsense—his lies—like you actually enjoyed it.”

A sharp laugh escaped you, incredulous and hurt. “You think I was flirting with Naoya? That I would ever entertain a fool like him?”

“You did tonight,” Choso shot back, his jaw clenched tightly. “You smiled and laughed at him, as if he deserved it. As if you weren’t above him. The you I knew wouldn’t have entertained someone like Naoya for a second. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

That cut deeper than it should have. Your breath hitched, and frustration welled in your chest, bursting free before you could stop it.

“You don’t know me anymore?” you echoed, your voice trembling with emotion. “Well, Choso, I don’t know you either! You’re the one who left me without a word. You’re the one who never answered my letters, who pushed me away for no reason. You didn’t answer them for years, Choso. For years! How can you stand there and talk about me changing when you’ve done everything you could to shut me out?”

He flinched, as if your words struck a nerve. His gaze fell to the floor, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I didn’t answer because I thought it was better that way,” he said quietly. “Because I knew… whatever this was—whatever we were—it couldn’t last. I didn’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your heart cracked at his words, tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t want to make it harder for me?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You made it unbearable, Choso! You didn’t just leave me, you abandoned me. Without explanation, without closure. You were my friend, my closest ally, and you just… disappeared!”

“I was avoiding the inevitable,” he said, his tone low and bitter. “I was saving us both from something that could never be.”

“And why not?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Why couldn’t we have stayed friends? Why couldn’t you have stayed as someone I trusted, someone I could rely on?”

Choso let out a harsh, incredulous laugh, his head bowing as his hands rose to rub at his temples. When he looked back at you, his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You think I just want to be your ally?” Choso’s voice cracked, his tone harsh and trembling, a storm barely contained within him. He stepped closer, his shadow stretching toward you in the dim light. His dark eyes blazed, raw and unguarded, piercing straight through you.

“Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life standing at your side, pretending it doesn’t destroy me every time you smile at another man?” he continued, his voice rising with emotion. “Do you think I want to be some nameless figure in your life, someone who exists only to bow, to nod, to follow orders while the rest of the world gets to bask in your warmth?”

Your breath hitched as he took another step, the space between you shrinking.

“I don’t want to be your ally, your friend, or some loyal servant,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I want you. I have always wanted you.”

His confession struck you like lightning, setting every nerve ablaze. You could see the anguish etched into his features, the way his hands shook as if he was struggling to hold himself back.

“I want to touch you without wondering if it’s inappropriate,” he went on, his words tumbling out, unrestrained. “I want to kiss you without the weight of the crown between us. I want to wake up beside you every morning, knowing you’re mine—truly mine—and not just some unattainable dream I’ve been foolish enough to carry.”

“Choso…” you whispered, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

“I want to tear apart every damned rule, every line drawn between us,” he continued, his voice thick with frustration and desire. “I want the world to see that you’re mine—not Naoya’s, not some prince’s, not anyone else’s. Mine.”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair, his composure unraveling further. “But that’s not what the world allows, is it?” he said, his tone laced with venom. “Because I’m not a prince or a duke or anyone worthy of you. I’m just a man—a soldier. And the world says I can’t have you.”

His chest heaved with the force of his confession, and his eyes—God, his eyes—burned with a pain so deep it was almost unbearable to witness.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as his words sank in. “You could have had me,” you said, your voice trembling, tears stinging your eyes. “If you’d just stayed, if you’d let me in instead of shutting me out. We could have figured this out together, Choso. I would have fought for you.”

His expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his anger. “And what would you have me do?” he asked hoarsely. “Stand beside you while everyone whispers that I’m unworthy? Watch as suitors line up for your hand, knowing I can’t stop them because it’s my duty to protect you, not love you?”

“I don’t care what the world says!” you burst out, stepping closer, your voice rising with desperation. “I don’t care about duty or station or rules. All I ever wanted was you, Choso. You, as my friend, my ally, my—”

“Your what?” he interrupted, his voice low and rough. “Say it. Say what I’ve been longing to hear and dreading all at once.”

Your breath hitched, tears streaming down your face as you met his gaze. “My everything,” you whispered.

For a moment, the tension between you hung thick and electric, the weight of years of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Then Choso stepped back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight.

“That’s why I stayed away,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “Because I knew if I didn’t, I’d lose myself in you completely. And I wouldn’t be able to let you go. This is why I must stay away.”

For a moment, he lingered there, his hand flexing at his side as if fighting some invisible force. His gaze dropped, and when he finally turned away, it was slow, deliberate, each step a struggle. He didn’t look back as he crossed the threshold, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence.

The silence in your room was suffocating. Curtains drawn tightly, the dim flicker of a single candle cast wavering shadows on the stone walls. Plates of untouched food sat on a tray near the door, abandoned by the maids you had dismissed hours ago. The only sound was the faint rustle of your gown as you shifted on the edge of your bed, your arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold your broken pieces together.

A soft knock broke the stillness, tentative and almost hesitant. You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to see anyone, let alone speak. Whoever it was would surely leave if you didn’t respond.

But the door creaked open.

Your heart twisted. “I told you all to leave me be,” you said hoarsely, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I’m not one of your maids,” came a quiet reply from a voice that was all-too-familiar.

Your head snapped up, breath catching in your throat as Choso stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. His dark eyes, always so steady and unreadable, now held an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Get out,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended, though the hurt behind it was impossible to mask. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“I know,” he murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. He held something in his hands—a small stack of parchment, edges worn and yellowed. “But I have something to say to you.”

You frowned, your gaze darting to the papers he carried. “What is that?”

“Letters,” Choso said, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard before continuing, “The ones I wrote to you but never sent.”

You stiffened, your heart lurching painfully in your chest. “Why are you showing me this now?”

“Because I should have given them to you a long time ago,” he said simply. “And because I need you to know… what I couldn’t say before. But what I feel I must say now, for I am done with pretending I am not a selfish, selfish man.”

He stepped closer, setting the letters on the bed beside you. For a moment, he hesitated, then knelt before you, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked up at you with a mixture of guilt and determination, as if he had made a decision. And you fight desperately to not yourself believe that, perhaps, he has changed his mind, that he will finally take you in the way you desire.

But you steel your heart as you cautiously look at him.

“Read them,” he said quietly. “Please.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the stack, the paper cool and rough beneath your touch. The first letter was dated years ago, the ink slightly smudged, as if his hand had lingered too long on the words.

My dearest friend,

I’ve written and torn up this letter a dozen times. How do I explain the ache I feel every night I march under foreign stars? How do I explain that even on the battlefield, amidst the chaos, my mind drifts to you? I think of our secret meetings in the garden, the way you’d laugh as you dared me to meet you in the willow tree every night. Do you remember that night we barely escaped the guards? Your laughter, your gown splayed across the forest floor. I dream of those nights—of you leaning close to steal the fruit in my palm, staring up at me, the world disappearing, and wishing I could ask for more. For you close to me not under the pretense of stealing the pomegranate in my hand, but for something more.

Your voice broke as you read, tears pooling in your eyes. Choso remained silent, his head bowed, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You moved to the next letter.

The scent of jasmine haunted me on the journey here. Every step of the way, I remembered you crouched beneath the trellis, daring me to pluck the flowers despite the gardener’s wrath. When I handed you the bouquet, your smile made me feel invincible, as though I could conquer kingdoms just to see it again. I wished then that I could have told you the truth—that every reckless moment we shared was a reprieve from the weight of duty. I wanted to kiss you in the moonlight, to tell you that you were more than a dream to me. I tried to, in part, with the hairpin I gave you, one that amplified your gentle beauty even more than I thought possible. But how could I ruin what little time we had?

“Choso,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why didn’t you send these?”

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought it was kinder to stay away. To bury how I felt. But it wasn’t kinder, was it?”

You shook your head, unable to speak as you continued reading, each letter peeling away the walls you’d built to protect yourself from the pain of his absence.

When you reached the last letter, your breath hitched.

If I were braver, I’d tell you this to your face: I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time we ran barefoot through the gardens, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. I’ve loved you since you bandaged my hand after my sparring lessons, scolding me and treating me gently as if I weren’t a warrior, as if my rough, damaged hands were worth your care. I love you with a desperation that terrifies me, that kept me awake in camp as I replayed your smile over and over. If I lose you now, it will be my own doing. But still, I love you.

Your tears fell freely now, soaking the parchment. Choso rose slowly, his hands lifting as if to touch you but stopping just shy of your skin.

“Say something,” he pleaded, his voice raw.

Instead, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet you. Your lips found his in a kiss that was fierce and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of longing, anger, and love into the connection.

Choso froze for a heartbeat before melting into you. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

His hands moved to grasp your waist, as if afraid you might vanish. Before they could touch you, he paused as if doubting his ability to be able to touch you. To your frustration, the heat of his almost-contact pulled away. “Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you pleaded, grasping his hands in yours and placing them on their rightful place: your body. You dragged his hands down your torso, helping him explore your curves sensually, intimately as he squeezed his brows together, eyes shut, conveying his inner turmoil. His resolve almost cracked as you begged him, “Take me. Please.”

With agitation, he withdrew his hands from your grasp, painfully clenching them by his sides as he groaned. “Your Highness, you’re playing with fire. I mustn’t. Your body is of a thousand gold, and I would never dare to touch you with my hands—”

But you interrupted him by snorting. “If it is of a thousand gold, or whatever archaic term the royal legends have invented, then you are a thousand gold richer.” You gently took his face in your arms, kissing his forehead. “I am yours, and if you believe that anyone will have my heart after you, then you are most grievously mistaken.”

He still looked at you, both kneeling on your bed, with a conflicted expression. You gave him a reassuring look before pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. Then, you teased him softly. “Will you not fight for my hand? Will you truly let me be promised to another man after this?”

His eyes darkened in a possessive manner, as he joined his lips against yourself furiously. “I would never,” he punctuated his interruptions with a searing kiss. “let anyone have you after this.”

With tender hands that heavily contrasted his desperation, he slipped the shoulder of your dress, dragging the hem down and down until your breasts were bare to the air. “So, so beautiful,” he whispered before enclosing your nubs in his mouth, kissing them both tenderly.

You could only but gasp, victim to his ministrations as he sneaked another hand up your legs, gently caressing your thighs until he met your core. He groaned, louder than ever, when he was met with the bare heat, wet with your desire and arousal all for him. With painstaking gentleness, he eased a finger in, drinking in your moans and sounds of pleasure.

He couldn’t help but smile at the small scream that escaped you when he curled his fingers up. It seemed he had found the place that pleasured you most, one that you had stayed unbeknownst to. And he definitely couldn’t stop himself from torturing and repeatedly hitting against it with the way squeals of his name left your mouth whenever he did so.

Before you knew it, an unknown feeling washed over you as Choso kept continuing his touches, one that seemed like worship with how he was looking for your reactions, for your pleasure. A gush of slick escaped you, and Choso kissed your breasts one final time before drawing out his finger.

You peered down at him, flushed, as his eyes stayed trained on you while he slowly drew his finger inside his mouth, seeming to savor your taste. At last, he pulled it away from his mouth and asked, voice hoarse, “how are you feeling?”

You laugh bashfully and look away, blushing. “You know you don’t need to ask that. But,” and you pause, looking at him through your lashes, “you know I want more.”

The flush that was only apparent on his cheeks spread to his entire face and neck and he whines as he buries his face in your breasts once more, now to evade eye contact. “Don’t say things like that. It makes holding back even more arduous.”

You stroke his hair, smiling softly. “Would you have any qualms about taking my…maidenhood if you were my husband.”

His answer is immediate. “Absolutely not.”

“So you want to…make love with me?” You heat up at your own words, nervously looking at him in fear of his rejection.

He pauses, but then slowly nods. “Well, yes, but—”

“Then we shall put archaic traditions aside. Choso,” and you look at him mischievously as he squints at you, “I command you to make love to me.”

The reaction is immediate. As if animated again, he pins you down against your mattress, eyes feral as he takes your lips with his once more. With both hands, a riiiip echoes across the room as he entirely tears your shift in his bare hands. Mind you, it was not weak material, and you lay dumbfounded as he strips his shirt off.

You don’t even have time to admire his bare torso, muscled as you knew it would be. Your eyes automatically trail down to the string of hair that leads down to his v-line as he rids himself of his trousers.

What gets uncovered makes you pray for your life, and you gasp, eyes wide. “How is that even supposed to go inside—”

He says your name, reassuringly, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I will take the utmost care of you. I promise.” He lines his length with your entrance, and, with another kiss, he pushes in gently.

When his member first breaches you, you gasp, dizzied by the fullness. Then, as he slowly bottoms out, you whine while impaled on his cock. “More.”

Basking in the euphoria of your clenching heat around him, at your request, he curses. He pulls out his length—slowly, gently—and then slams back in, and you squeal, whispering a breathless utter of his name once more.

He continues making love to you, the sounds of his devotion echoing across the room. When you both climax, it is down with a prayer of the other’s name, as a promise. That you are both each other’s, and no qualms about proprietary and status could any longer apprehend either of you.

When the both of you settle down, him having gently cleaned you with a cloth, he collapses next to you in bed, bare arms engulfing you and pulling you closer. As you both lie there, skin to skin, you giggle at your own thoughts.

At the sound, Choso perks up, looking at you in soft amusement. “What’s the matter, my love?”

Ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the nickname, you replied, “I daresay you will be the strongest prince consort in the history of our kingdom.”

The mention of the weak nobles that had ascended the throne in centuries past makes him snicker smugly. “I would agree,” he muses, amused like you. “They would not have been as tall as me, or as strong, or as good in bed—-”

“Choso!” you squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it.

Grinning like a devil, he dodged with ease, catching your wrist and pulling you down onto the bed. Before you could protest, he wrestled himself on top of you, pinning your arms above your head and smothering you in kisses.

After his barrage was over, he turned solemn once more. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his tone softer, more sincere. His dark eyes searched yours, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’ll protect you, stand beside you, love you until my last breath. You’re my queen in every way that matters. And no matter what, I’ll never leave your side again.”

Your breath hitched, his words settling deep in your chest. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you smiled, warmth flooding your heart. “And I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts promise and devotion. It wasn’t hurried or frenzied, but slow, a tangible declaration of everything you both had endured to reach this moment. Here, in the quiet of your chamber, with his weight grounding you and his lips marking you as his, you found the only place you wanted to be—by his side, now and always.

general masterlist

a/n AHH HI POOKIES!! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED MY FIRST CHOSO FIC?? let me know if i do him justice this was written with my pussy and me having a specific hyperfixation :3 anyways i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you guys did too :')

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

Tags

jjk jujutsu kaisen jjk x reader jujutsu kaisen x reader choso kamo choso x reader jjk choso choso jjk smut choso smut jjk x you jujutsu kaisen x you jujutsu kaisen smut jjk x reader smut choso kamo smut choso kamo x reader choso x you choso kamo x you aashi writes

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iamyoojin

3 months ago

" MOVIE NIGHT GONE WRONG. "

starring! : mikey + fem!reader, and kazutora, draken, baji, chifuyu

warnings! : exhibition, sex tape, fingering, finger sucking, choking, FWB, college!AU, basically cheating? (draken), squirting, implied gangbang at the end, readers skin color is not mentioned, mdni, not proofread

summary! : mikey invited the boys to a movie night, but as he was gone to pick you up, they accidentally stumbled opon a camera.

"Movie night gone right" pt.2

Right after mikeys bike engine roared from outside and slowly got more silent until it was completely gone, the guys just sat on mikeys couch and on the floor, bored.

Kazutora sat down on the floor with one of mikeys pillows and suddenly spotted a video camera, obviously from the late 2000s and a bright smile beamed on his face as he took it in his hands.

"Look what I found, guys" he announced opening the display of the cam "why would mikey have that?" Draken asked himself outloud with a raised eyebrow, to which kazutora shrugged "I dunno but I'm dying to see what he filmed on this."

Chifuyu looked a bit uncomfortable with that idea "I don't know man, maybe there's some personal shit on there" baji just scoffed, "then I just wanna see it more" he laughed. Kazutora looked at draken to see if he wanted to he it too.

Draken sighed and stretched his arms "sure, why not."

Kazutora and baji then cheered before baji encouraged him to connect the camera with the TV, which he had some trouble with since he didn't find the cable at first for it, but after he did find it he didn't waste a single second to plug it in

A video immediately started of mikeys feet as he walked, before the shot lifted to reveal you in pretty heels and a cute sundress skipping infront of him, mikey giggled behind the camera "cute" he said. You then turned around to which the guys perked up.

"She's still pretty even on a shitty camera" baji mentioned.

The tape continued with you laughing happily and smiling at the camera "you gotta say hi to the camera." Mikey told you, to which you just giggled and then waved your pretty long nailed fingers at the camera "hiiii!"

All of the guys had a tiny smile on their face at your cute gesture.

But then the video stopped, and another started up. It was you again. On mikeys couch, stretching your gorgeous legs while reading a magazine. You were wearing a mini skirt and a crop top, mikey kept filming your legs and the how graceful they looked.

It started to feel like...there was some tension in the air now. Kazutora couldn't take his eyes off the screen, admiring your pretty legs and your gorgeous heels. It was no secret that tora had the miggest crush on you, so seeing this put him in a trance. But it didn't just affect him, of course. you were beautiful and cute, and it was hard not to crush on you at least a little bit. Even draken, though he'd never say it out loud.

"Stop filming my legs!" You playfully complained, closing you magazine and coming over to mikey, who was just giggling behind the camera as you came closer and closer to the camera, but then it shut off. And another video started, it was you kneeling on the floor looking up into the camera with your bright eyes and glossy lips "what?" You giggled, tilting your head. "You're pretty." Mikey said, and then it stopped again.

Chifuyu completely forgot about his feelings from earlier, now just focused on seeing more videos of you being pretty and happy.

Those videos continued, just sweet little snippets of mikey admiring you. They were surprised that mikey was so enamored with you, seeing such an "emotional" side of him was very alien to them. Watching these videos made the guys wonder if you two were a thing and they just didn't know about it.

"Come on, let's stop watchin' em" draken announced, waving his hand. But kazutora protested "just one more!" And before anyone could object he let the next one play.

This time you were in mikeys room again with you sitting on his couch as Mikey supposedly laid down on his bed. You were watching some show until you noticed mikey filming you again.

You smiled "what?" You asked cutely, "waiting for a performance" he casually said.

Draken and baji raised a curious eyebrow, "performance?" Baji asked, to which tora hushed him.

You giggled and turned your upper body to him, you smiled a little shyly then rolled your eyes "really? Again?" Assumingly mikey just nodded at your question.

At this point, the guys didn't see anything too weird about these videos until..

You suddenly grabbed the hem of your tank top and lifted it over your tits to flash the camera.

Kazutora and chifuyu let out an audible gasp, draken choked on his drink and bajis jaw just dropped in absolute shock.

"OKAY, OKAY TURN IT OFF!" Chifuyu yelled, pulling his arm over his eyes to shield himself from this privacy invasion. "NO WAY!!" Tora and baji yelled. They both should feel more disgusted or discomfort at you and mikey being.."intimate," but they were too focused on finally seeing your perky tits that teased them for years now.

The video continued and they could hear mikey giggle before the next video started. It was you again with your head on mikeys thigh as you were seated between them on the floor, and he was sitting on the couch, your beautiful eyes looked up into the camera. Your nails pressed softly into mikeys thigh as you tilted your head, then without a single word, mikeys hand cane down to caress your flushed cheek.

It was a cute and innocent enough gesture, until his thumb started caressing your bottom lip and you slowly opened your mouth to suck on it sensually.

"Fuck, she's like a pornstar.." kazutora mentioned, absolutely enamored with how pretty and sexy you looked doing such slutty activities. "She fuckin' does.." baji agreed, leaning more closely to the screen from his seat on the couch.

The video cut, and another immediately started.

This one just immediately started with your pretty moans and your face twisted in pleasure. It didn't take kazutora a second to get rock hard, and it wasn't any different for draken, baji or chifuyu. Hard as fuck.

"What a good girl.." Mikey said behind the camera as it panned down to reveal mikey's fingers slowly sliding in and out of your wet cunt, making obscene and sinful noises. Your clit looked so swollen, kazutora almost wanted to lick the screen.

You moaned so prettily again and you spread your legs further for mikey to get better access. His Fingers sped up and so did the wet squelching noises, your moans got more high pitched and louder "that's it." Mikey encouraged "cum for me.." your hips bucked into his touch as your eyes slightly rolled back and your bottom lip got caught between your teeth.

Baji gripped the blanked next to him, imagining how soft your skin would feel against his own, how tight your pussy would feel around his fingers.

Draken had his fingers on his temple, pretending to not like what he was seeing, and he shouldn't. Especially since he had a girlfriend. But fuck he's just a guy, and you're getting fingers by his best friend. Letting out the prettiest noises he'd ever heard..

Your head tipped back and you covered your mouth as a sticky liquid squirted out of your weeping cunt. "Fuck yeah..good girl, good girl" mikey huffed, fingering you even faster.

Chifuyu gasped as he gripped the pillow impossibly tighter over his crotch, he'd seen a lot of porn but none of them were as good as what he was seeing right there, right now. You were so pretty and he felt like he would die if he didn't jerk off right now.

Kazutora bit his bottom lip desperately as he imagined what your hot and sticky fluids would taste like, he wanted to put his mouth on you so bad, he wanted to make you squirm and cry out as you grip his hair and grind your pussy on his face..

The video cut off again and then mikey was seen with you in a shot, it was assumingly propped up somewhere.

You were getting fucked sideways by mikey as his hands were on your thigh, holding it up, and on your tit as he was sucking on your nipple. "Mikey!" You moaned as your tits bounced with every thrust, the guys could see the bed completely soaked beneath you two "p-please- I can't anymore~" you whined. Mikeys hand gripped your thigh harder "fuck yeah, you can..just one more" the kissed your collarbone "fr' me.." he begged before going right back to suck on your tiddy.

Kazutora almost moaned when you turned your head to the camera eyes closed in bliss as his friend fucked you senseless.

Your moans got louder and baji could swear his mouth was filling up with drool, looking at your tits bounce and your cunt being fucked.

Mikey lifted himself up and put his hand on your throat, drakens eyes widened as you whimpered at this filthy action, his jeans felt so uncomfortably tight due to his painful erection straining against them. He couldn't contain his thoughts anymore, he would fuck you so hard with his big hand on your tiny throat.

Mikey thrusts become sloppy and harder as your moans suddenly stuttered. You were about to cum.

The men were so focused on the screen, awaiting your orgasm.

"We're hereee" mikey announced and the guys all jolted awake from their pussy trance and kazutora hastily and panicked and ripped the cable out of the TV, feeling his heart beat out of his throat when he saw your pretty self standing next to mikey after he just watched you getting fucked by him.

It didn't take long for mikey to see the guys all flushed hiding their crotches and, of course, the video cam.

Mikey just casually chuckled "they found our tapes" to which you gasped and looked at the man next to you "...the tapes?"

You looked back at the men, avoiding eye contact with you or mikey.

Mikey then looked at you and gave you a soft pat on your ass before you shyly bit your lip and walked over to the bed, you sat down...and spread your legs just enough for them to see you not wearing any panties...

Kazutora and chifuyu were about to have a heart attack with how fast their hearts were beating, baji felt like he was burning hot, he never felt this horny..

Draken really, really tried to not look at you or your half exposed pussy. But he did see it and then couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

"Did you like them..?" You suddenly asked, spreading your legs more as Mikey just grinned.

You looked at the camera and then back at the boys "maybe.." you lifted your skirt, exposing your naked cunt to them. "We could make a featured film.." kazutora kneeled and looked like a starved puppy, with his tongue almost hanging out of his mouth and his eyes wide open.

Someone would have to hold baji back if he got any hornier, cause he was about to just jump on you and ravage you.

"I can film everything" mikey said with a smug grin.

Was this planned?

Tags

tokyo revengers tokyo rev jojo writes tokyo revengers smut tr smut tokyo rev smut mikey smut manjiro smut draken smut baji smut kazutora smut chifuyu smut

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iamyoojin

1 year ago

what goes down when you…

❤︎ get drunk with your tokyo rev s/o. ❤︎

!!!!!! VERY NSFW ❤︎ including: baji, chifuyu, kazutora, takemichi, mikey, draken, mitsuya, smiley, angry, rindou, ran, izana, kokonoi, inui, kakucho, sanzu, taiju, kisaki, hanma, shion, naoto, wakasa, shinichiro

a/n: just in time for valentines!!😀 had the weeknd’s cover of drunk in love on repeat, so I smashed a bunch of Tokyo Rev ideas I had into this prompt that weren't working as full fics. Some of these I ended up loving a lot (pt 2??*cough*shin) & some of them will probably just stay here. have a wonderful v day & stay safe! if u don’t have a date (like me) buy urself flowers and read these in the bath bc ur fav TR character wants to f*ck you rn <3

— — ❤︎ Baji Keisuke

“No listen! Apparently we weren’t even a couple despite all the times we fucked at the winery? And then it ended up catching on fire?? That’s like the last message, like we don’t even know how Aiden’s contest wine rank—” Baji smashed his lips against yours, ceasing your rambling immediately. “Babe, respectfully, I have no fucking idea what you’re talkin’ about.” He smiled and lowered his lips to your ear. “But, ya know, I could listen to your voice all damn day,” Baji planted a featherlight kiss near your earlobe as he whispered, “…’specially like hearing those moans of yours.” Something about liquor made your usually stoic boyfriend run his damn mouth. His topaz eyes twinkled as you stared at him in shock. You felt his heavy hand against your cheek and leaned into his comforting touch, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Keisuke,” you sighed. “You made me forget what I was saying.” You kissed his hand and lightly bit down on his thumb. “Good.” He sighed as you opened your mouth enough for him to slip his index finger in, another one following the first. You closed your lips around his knuckles and sucked him in, beckoning him further down your tongue until his fingertips tapped the back of your throat. He chuckled softly when you gagged. Baji pulled his hand away from your mouth and stuffed it down your pants to finger you. You could feel the heat radiating from his face as he kissed you firmly, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

— — ❤︎ Kazutora Hanemiya

KBOOM. Heavy rain drummed against the window. Thunder erupted outside your bedroom, followed by a loud crackle, leaving you and your boyfriend completely in the dark. “Aw, shit,” Kazutora huffed. “Well, s’good thing we made a blanket fort.” He giggled and patted around for his phone. You were watching Regular Show in your little cave and playing one of those drinking games where you had to take a shot every time Benson yelled or someone said “whoaaaa,” for example. When the power cut out, you were several episodes in and needless to say, both pretty drunk at this point. “Here, I’ll help,” you say sweetly, fumbling around the wad of sheets on the floor. “hEy, babyyy, watch it.” It took a moment for you to register what had transpired; it seems you pawed Kaz’s lap... and accidentally grabbed his dick. Drunk y/n suddenly had a great idea. “Ohh, I’m so sorry pretty boy, ’m still looking for it,” you feigned, crawling closer to his body and intentionally getting handsy with him. You flipped up his shirt and ran your fingers across the skin of his lower stomach. Your touch danced over the waistband of his sweats, teasing him mercilessly before fully cupping his hard-on. Tora whined. You could barely make out his head tipping back in the dark as you squeezed him. “Mmh, god… y/n, baby, ride me,” his tone made your heart pussy jump, it was a mix of desperate and demanding. Before you could move, he grabbed your ass, pulling at the flesh of your thighs and hips to get you to straddle him. You rolled over onto his lap, french kissing him feverishly. Kazutora sucked at your bottom lip as he pressed your body down to grind against his pelvis, rocking your hips forward and back slowly.

— — ❤︎ Matsuno Chifuyu

The refrigerator was overflowing with Jell-O shots for the party tonight. You and Chifuyu were so ready to impress your friends, having gone all out with a batch of rainbow ones AND a batch of chocolate pudding ‘dirt cup’ shots, complete with sour gummy worms on top….. only for it to get cancelled:( “I’m sure they’ll reschedule really soon, Fuyu. at least these should last a few days,” you comforted your love. “Yeah… no point in letting them go to waste, though. I’m tryin’ some—” Chifuyu made a b-line for the fridge and returned with handfuls of the mini containers. He plopped down next to you with an expression one could only describe as epiphanic. “Actually… Hold that thought, I’m gonna order pizza.” You snorted, “We having a party of our own?” Chifuyu put the shots down on the coffee table. “I mean, why not?? With a pizza box and all these cups we can play…” he paused for dramatic effect, “battle shots!” You giggled and nodded, “Battle ships with Jell-O shots and a pizza-box board, huh?” You smiled brightly. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?” Chifuyu grinned playfully at your comment and hovered over you on the couch, nose inches away from yours. “Mm, no, never. I think I’d remember something so impo—” you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his before he could finish his sentence. ••••• “A5.” It was the last turn of the game. “Hit, and you sunk my battleship,” you sighed in defeat, utterly wasted after having Chifuyu wipe the floor with you this game. “Woo! I wiiinnn, what’s my prize?” Chifuyu beamed. You crawled over to him and laid your head in his lap, kissing his thighs playfully. “I’ve got an idea.” He shivered and bit his lip. A deep sigh left his chest, relaxing his body as he stroked your cheek. He gazed at you adoringly. “Oh? I think I like where this is going.”

— — ❤︎ Hanagaki Takemichi

You are seated next to Takemichi at his beautiful cousin’s wedding, looking on as the newly wed couple shares their first marital kiss. Michi squeezed your hand before contributing to the growing applause and cheers. He breathed a sigh of relief upon surviving the most stressful parts of the ceremony, and now everyone was just ready to let loose. “Whoa, check it oouuut!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the delicious spread of food and drinks decorating the room. Music blared as everyone helped themselves. Takemichi twirled you around the dance floor a few times, and now you were seated near the mini bar to get your drink on. You two had a toast to yourselves first (what better way to celebrate the romantic scene) and stared into each other’s eyes lovingly. The chemistry was almost the same as when you two had first started dating, the conversation flowing effortlessly all evening. One, two, four… you lost count of how many drinks you had at this point, and your boyfriend was looking pretty flushed himself. You stared at the just-married couple at the center of the dance floor. “They look so wonderful together... I bet,” you began boldly, “they are gonna have the wildest night after this,” you took a sip of your drink and smirked. “Y-Y/n!! That’s such a dirty thing to say,” Takemichi sputtered. “Baby. Don’t play coy like you haven’t said some of the filthiest shit I’ve ever heard.” Your eyes flicked over his flustered expression. You paused for just a moment before leaning in close to his ear. “Tell me you don’t want to act on all the love and romance in the air.” Your hand rested on his face close to the bottom of his jaw. Takemichi trembled, he was visibly caving under the pressure. You heard him swallow hard and nod slightly against your cheek, “I could kiss your lips until they bruise. You have no idea...” he whispered. “That’s more like it. We’ve never really explored having sex in a public place, have we? C’mon, I’ll prove my love to you now,” you kissed his cheek sincerely. “And I’ll let you prove you’re thinking some things far worse than I am,” you whispered and pulled him out of his seat.

— — ❤︎ Sano Manjiro

“SHIT!” Mikey cussed, his quarter bouncing off the table and narrowly missing the shot glass he aimed for. You both had a few shots of liquor in you and the aims were only getting worse. “HA! That one was double or nothing, take two, Mikey~.” You loved playing games with your boyfriend, even if he was the worst loser on the planet and would conjure up absolutely anything to ensure he won in the end. “Noo, wait! One more! If I make this one, you have to take all my shots. If I miss, I’ll take four.” He stared at you with unwavering intensity. “And how’s that fair at all??” You squinted back, lips curving into a pout. “Okay, okay. Fine, here. You get a chance to shoot when I make this shot. If you miss, both of us only take two shots, but if you make it, I’ll take five.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly. What absolute nonsense. You thought for a moment before replying, “You’re on, babe.” Mikey flashed you a grin, lining up his course on the table. It was a great attempt, you really thought he had it. Somehow though, his quarter skimmed the glass and bounced right back out. “FUCK-!! YOU SAW IT GO IN!” He screeched. “NO WAY, THAT’S STILL A MISS!” Your intensity matched his frantic screams, laughter erupting from you. “Baby! Youu have to take four shots nooow~,” you poked his stomach and arms playfully. “Nuh uh, technically I didn’t miss.” You stared at him in disbelief. “Mikey. The quarter is on the table. Take. The damn. Shots.” He sprinted away from you at full speed, darting towards the bedroom, “MAKE ME!!” You couldn’t believe how childish-... But you didn’t have time to waste and chased after him. You caught up to him and flung yourself at him, effectively body-slamming him onto the mattress. “Sano Manjiro I swear if you don’t take those fuckin-” his hands gently wrapped behind your head, thumbs grazing the side of your face as he captured your lips in a kiss. That asshole. You melted into him, fingers wandering up his neck to grab handfuls of his hair. He swept his hands down your body, palms landing on your ass, pulling you flush against his hips. Panting, you pulled away from his sensual kisses. “Mm, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

— — ❤︎ Ryuguji Ken

“…you do remember where we are, right?” Draken breathed in a low tone near your ear. Yeah, of course, a casual dinner party with his friends and some of his work buddies. So maybe one of his friends made excellent cocktails, and maybe you overindulged. And perhaps, as a consequence, the liquor had you feeling devious enough to try to feel up your boyfriend around a corner where nobody could see to get a reaction out of him. “Mhmm,” you answered confidently. His grip on your wrist tightened as he pushed his knee between your thighs, backing you against the wall. “And you do know what’ll be waiting for you if you keep acting up here, hm?” You whimpered, maybe a bit too excitedly for his taste. Draken tilted your chin up to meet his gaze with his free hand, his brow raised into an expression that read ‘don’t test me’. You blinked innocently and pouted. “I’m sorry daddy. Can I have a kiss?” Ken rolled his eyes at you before answering, “Tch, fine. Just one, then we are going back for a little while longer.” He leaned down to kiss you, his hand softly resting on your jaw and his other hand releasing your wrist to settle on your hip. Just as your lips met, you pulled him close by the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other sneaking its way to his belt, dipping below the buckle slowly in attempt to tease his cock. You felt his body briefly relax before pulling away from you, breaking the kiss in the act. “Mm, you shouldn’t have done that.” He huffed. Without warning, he belted, “Oi, Mitsuya! S’getting late, I’ve gotta get my s/o home. Tell whoever’s left I’m headin’ out.” Your eyes widened in shock that he just announced your exit… and now you had no escape from the punishment you earned yourself. “C’mon, baby, let’s get you home and into bed, ah?” He laced his fingers with yours and led you to the car with a knowing grin.

— — ❤︎ Mitsuya Takashi

“You are so fucking sexy.” Your incredible Mitsuya, the absolute perfect partner, had the filthiest mouth after a few glasses of wine. It was dinner at your place, just some pasta and wine, nothing crazy, but Takashi had it out for you tonight. He beckoned you over to where he was sitting, heavy kisses quickly escalating before you could wrap your brain around it all. “God, you smell good…” he squeezed at your flesh ferociously. “Turn around, wanna taste my dessert,” he breathed, shifting in his seat at the dinner table. “N-no, other way, baby. I want a face full of ass while I eat that pretty pussy,” his voice was low, growl-like tone making your cunt pulse as you climbed on the table. “Taka--!” you attempted to call to him pitifully. He pushed your dress up and sunk his teeth into the fabric of your panties, pulling them down your leg teasingly. “Spread ‘em wider,” he demanded. “Mitsuya!!” He was being embarrassingly direct. You would’ve been humiliated if you didn’t find it so hot. You slid your knees further apart on the sleek wood, back curving into a pronounced arch to put as much of your pussy on display for him as you could in this position. “Mmm, just like that, good girl,” he purred. You jumped when his tongue swiped along your slick folds, the contact making your legs tingly. He kissed and licked at your cunt before sucking your clit in his mouth. You both moaned in unison. “So good,” he whined in a low tone. “Want more?” he gripped your thigh with one hand and teased your entrance with the other. “Yes, please, Taka,” you mewled softly. You leaned your hips into his touch, and he let out a deep, lascivious giggle in response. “Baby, you’re gonna have to beg a little better than that.” You wished you could see the wide grin you knew was on his face. “Come on. I know you’ve got it in you.”

— — ❤︎ Kawata (Angry) Souya

Tonight, you ventured to a bar within walking distance of your boyfriend Souya’s apartment. The two of you had as many drinks as you wanted since nobody was driving, the area was relatively safe, and left with confidence knowing if anybody messed with y’all, Angry was more than capable of kicking their ass. Your arms wrap tightly around your boyfriend’s midsection, face pressed into the back of his shirt as he walked, dragging you forward with him each step. “Pleaseeee! Souya, pleeee-,” your incessant cries were cut short by your boyfriend stopping abruptly and whipping around to face you. You flinched at his furious expression, but the words that left his mouth were surprisingly… sweet. “Sure, princess. It’s on the way to the apartment.” Angry took your hand and led you towards the barren park. You playfully danced around him and cheered excitedly, insisting that he push you on the swing. “Fine, fine, but only if you’ll go down the slide with me.” Of course you agreed and the two of you played around for some time. It was now Souya’s last time going down the slide, so you waited at the bottom for him. He let out the most adorable ‘wheee!’ sound as he swirled around to the end of the slide. You saw him laying at the base, slightly breathless, messy blue hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, and a subtle grin on his usual scowling face. Before you knew it, you hovered over Souya, a handful of his thick hair in your clutches as you leaned in to kiss him. He sighed warmly and pulled your body close, deepening the kiss. “Ready to go?” You asked cheerily. “Mm. Wanna shower with me when we get back?” You caught a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke. “Sure. C’mon,” you replied and pulled him to his feet. “Y/n,” he began, and you looked at him expectantly. “…never mind.” Soya shied away from his words. “You sure?” You asked gently, eyes shining in the moonlight. “Um… We should play around like that more often.” He laced his fingers with yours as he walked you back to the apartment. “I love you too, Souya.”

— — ❤︎ Kawata (Smiley) Nahoya

“Oh~? What’s this, eh?” The toy whirred in his hands as he tinkered with the buttons. “Nahoya!!” You screamed. Why was he digging through your stuff?? Even worse for you, it seems that earlier today while you rushed to pack a stay-the-night bag, the mini vibrator you kept hidden in a small pocket in your backpack was overlooked. “So, my girl’s a pervert, huh?” His trademark smirk appeared especially daunting now. You hid your face with your hands. “I—,” you began. Although you and Smiley had some heated moments, being the tease that he is, the two of you hadn’t exactly gone all the way together yet. Tonight was supposed to be the night, you even had some drinks with him to dampen the nerves, but the implications of finding a sex toy in your possession made the anticipation spike back up. “I just, I forgot it was in my backpack,” you winced. “Ohw, why’re ya all pinched up, pretty baby?” His tone softened ever so slightly, “Don’t cha want me to use it on you?” Your eyes widened and your brows raised slightly. “Would you..?” you sucked in a breath, “I think I’d like that…” Your body moved faster than your brain as you slowly crawled towards your boyfriend sitting on the floor. “Yeah? C’mere, then,” he cooed, coaxing you into his lap. His hands tangled in your hair and pulled it firmly enough to cause your mouth to pop open. He quickly brought your face close, stealing your lips and slipping his tongue inside you with a soft groan. You barely heard the sound of the vibrator before Nahoya traced it up your leg, snaking under your shirt and bra to tease your nipple. You moaned sweetly under his touch. He pecked your lips once more before pulling away and grinning. “Heh. This’ll be fun.”

— — ❤︎ Haitani Rindou

Shit-faced at a concert? Sounds about right. You and Rin had been dancing around the pit and waiting for the headliner to start for almost two. hours. He made you get there EARLY because he “didn’t wanna miss the openers.” Bruh. Nobody sane goes to a concert early. You needed some liquor or you were gonna lose your mind. You and Rin smoked beforehand, he had a drink or two already as well, now it was your turn. It wasn’t a super large venue bc Rin wanted to check out an up-and-coming rap artist, but the crowd was starting to swell, the energy buzzing in the air. “Rinnie, you up for a little bet?” You tugged at your boyfriend’s shirt and gave him your best doe eyes. “Mm. Wassup?” He leaned his ear down to your lips to listen to your pitch. “I bet the cost of our bar tab that I can out-drink you tonight.” He perked up almost instantly. “Ohh? You really think ya could, huh? That’s cute.” He smirked and you elbowed his arm. “I’m serious,” you pulled him close to you, lips almost touching. He leaned in the rest of the way to kiss you slowly. “Since you’re so confident, lemme add to the bet,” he started, his hand dropping to the small of your back, pulling you close and brushing his cheek against yours. “Whoever wins… gets to fuck the loser’s ass.” You took a step back and stared at him in disbelief. “Are you deadass right now? …You know you could lose, right? How high did you get Rin..?” He stared into your eyes intensely and half-laughed, “Nah, ‘m deadass serious. Guess I could, but I won’t lose. You’re already startin’ out behind, doll. Best get to drinkin’ if the bet’s on.” His confidence was almost enough to make you change your mind. almost. You sucked in a breath and hurried to the bar to order yourself two drinks.

— — ❤︎ Haitani Ran

“Ran baby!” you called, “What is this!?” You got up at noon and headed to the balcony right off the bedroom for some air, only to reveal a fantastic looking breakfast spread on the patio tables. It was complete with a drink dispenser full of a vibrant orange liquid that very much resembled a mimosa. “My love,” his model-esque figure sashayed down the hallway, then stepped out onto the balcony dramatically. “You know how we always sleep in and miss brunch? Well, today, I brought brunch to us.” He beamed as he gestured towards the table, a soft breeze rustling his hair and kicking up the end of his silky robe. What a strange boyfriend he was, but you couldn’t deny that he looked gorgeous in his own right. You let out firm giggle. “Ran! You didn’t have to do all this, what’s the occasion?” He leaned forward and grasped your chin tenderly. “Oh, I just love you, that’s all.” Before you could react, his lips were on yours, melting you completely. Your hand gingerly grasped his, meeting his eyes with nothing but pure, wholistic love. “How did I get so lucky? I love you very much, Ran. Thank you.” You brought his palm to your lips and kissed it softly. “So, now we’re gonna get drunk… and then you’ll give me the best head I’ve ever had in my life, right?” He smiled blankly. “RAN!!” You playfully whacked his chest. “As if I’d say anything other than yes.” You both moved to the table and enjoyed breakfast, downing mimosas like nobody’s business. “You better understand what you’re in for now, Haitani.” You warned. “‘M not stopping after the first, second, or even third time you cum.” Ran’s face contorted into one of amusement as he drunkenly giggled, “You better not, but after that, I’m taking you to bed, k?” As you crawled under the table on the balcony, a fleeting thought penetrated your mind, could anyone see you? The minute you got a taste of Ran’s cock, however, the thought vanished, and you didn’t have a care in the world.

— — ❤︎ Kurokawa Izana

“How can you just leave me standing, Alone in a world so cold,” Izana sang softly as he played his guitar in his apartment for you. “Maybe I’m just too demanding, Maybe I’m just like my father, too bold,” you sang along with him, admiring the sounds filling the room. Your boyfriend, however, suddenly ceased his playing, gentle laughter interrupting the song. “Baby, I know you don’t sing like that.” He set his guitar aside, giggles getting the best of him. “Zana, that’s so mean, do I really sound bad?” You felt your eyebrows raise in concern. So maybe you weren’t Prince, but you knew you weren’t the worst singer in the world… did you offend Izana’s ears enough for him to stop playing altogether and laugh? “Not at all, you’re just… so cute when you try to sing drunk. You focus so hard that your pretty face gets all scrunched up…” he leaned forward from his seat on the floor to grab your cheeks. He cracked up again upon seeing your face squished into an exaggerated fishy-lipped pout by his own hand. “Izana, you are so giggly tonight,” you teased. “I dunno, guess I’m just in a really good mood.” He smiled softly, hands coming up to wipe tiny tears from his lavender eyes. “Aww, is that your way of saying I make you happy?” You scooted closer to him and poked at his sides, tickling him slightly. He responded between broken laughs, “Hey, you make me very happy, y/n.” There was a sweet moment of silence before he retaliated. Izana moved on your figure, leisurely yet swiftly grabbing your wrists and pinning you to the floor. He hardly gave you a second to protest before he was kissing you delicately. He made you feel adored and desirable in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You wrapped your legs around his back, the soft, sensual kisses sinking into dark, hungry ones. His grip on your wrist tightened as he pressed his body against you, the two of you desperate for closeness. He broke the kiss only long enough to say, “bed,” before pulling you to your feet and drunkenly guiding you to his room, your lips and bodies inseparable.

— — ❤︎ Kokonoi Hajime

“Where are you, little slut?” Koko’s voice echoed through the hotel penthouse. You held in your giggles as you hid in the gorgeous marble bathroom, hunkered down in the lavish bathtub. “If I don’t find you in the next 10 seconds, I’m gonna spank you till you cry. One...” You let out a cackle. “Kokooooo! My darling, take a bath with me,” your voice carried throughout the suite. You stood up and stripped down to your lingerie as you waited for him to enter the room, opting to sit seductively on the edge of the tub. “Sigh.” Koko stepped through the door, his face decorated lightly with vanilla icing. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he rolled his eyes and sauntered towards the tub. “Tongue out,” he demanded. You did as you were told, delicately licking the icing from his cheek and side of his nose. You left tiny kisses on the affected areas as he complained. “First you finish off MY favorite wine, then you go and hit me with a cupcake.” He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, sharp eyes boring into your forehead. “Baby, that was a total accident!” You stammered. “Awh, it was an accident~” his lips curled upwards as he mocked your tone. “Koko!! I didn’t know how close my hand was to your face, Hajime, I’m drunk! And I’m very sorry…. C’mon, let’s take a bath, pleaseee?” You tugged at his clothes gently. “Why d’ya wanna have a bath so bad right this second?” He took a step back, heavily lidded eyes fixed on the intricate red lingerie you wore. “Wanna fuck you in the bath, I guess. Seems romantic.” Kokonoi raised a brow, his cruel facade melting. “Mm. Guess it is Valentine’s Day,” he mused. “Tch, You’re damn lucky I love you so much, my spoiled brat. Alright, but first, go prance a little. Get me a drink so I can see the set from the back.” You hopped up excitedly. “Yay!! Yes sir!” You started to head back to the main area before Koko’s voice stopped you. “Hold on,” he paused, “do that again.” You tilted your head to the side. “Do what, this?” you jumped up and spun slightly, all your curves bouncing with you. “Mm. So good for me. Hurry back now,” he teased, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling out a big box of rose petals from the cabinet to put in the bath.

— — ❤︎ Inui Seishu

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you choked back a frustrated laugh. “4th time balls back, you’re fucking kidding me…” you face palmed. Inui stood at the opposite end of the table, arms folded and his gaze fixed on the last two red solo cups in front of you. He was absolutely destroying you at beer pong. Who would’ve thought he’d be so good? You were unbelievably flustered at losing so hard and having to drink so much, but his flawless performance was undeniably impressive… his cool and domineering appearance further flustering you. Inui lined up the shot, and just before the ping pong ball left his fingertips, you hollered, “MISS!!” He flinched and the ball skimmed the cup. You laughed triumphantly. “Tch! Y/n, you cheater.” He rolled his eyes and picked up the second ping pong ball. He shot quickly and it sunk in, leaving one last cup before your defeat. You had only managed to wipe out 3 of his cups:( but you weren’t giving up yet!! You heard somewhere the more drunk you are, the better you get at this game, right? You snatched up the balls and went straight in on your shot, fatally missing both. Inui snickered, a slight smile appearing on his face. “Nice try, y/n. I’ll go ahead and win for us so you can take a break from drinking,” his eyes flashed with a subtle fierceness, bouncing the ball off the table into a perfect shot. Before you could pick up the last cup and remove the ball to drink it, Inui walked over and grabbed the cup for himself. “I’ll take this one off your hands.” You tilted your head. “Why? You won, it’s my punishment,” you inquired. “Little give and take. Let’s just say I’ve got some better ideas of how to punish you than making you drink yourself sick.” After throwing back the cup, he wiped your now nonexistent tears away and kissed your eyelids softly. “So worked up over such a silly thing…” He slinked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pelvis pressing into your back. He leaned down and brushed any clothes or hair aside to work a hickey onto your skin, kissing your neck and up your face, stopping right next to your ear. He bit the shell of it before whispering, “Wanna bend over for me, pretty?”

— — ❤︎ Kakucho

Let’s just say that you did NOT plan on getting drunk at lunch with your darling Kaku today. You skipped breakfast, sure, but what the hell was in that margarita? You were bewildered as to how one drink could possibly put you on your ass. You were dizzy just sitting in the booth across from Kaku. “Y/n, you didn’t answer my question. Sweetheart, you okay?” He smiled softly at you, eyebrows knitting together out of concern as he reached for your hand. “Uh huh,” you replied slowly. “Should’ve thought about drinking on an empty stomach,” you sighed and squeezed his fingers. The sudden flash in your mind of having his thick hands wrapped around your throat made pleasure pool in your stomach. …Were you ovulating? You must be. First you get drunk off of one drink, now you’re lewding your boyfriend at a restaurant midday. You paused. Before you could even correct your mistake, Kakucho looked at you knowingly. You slowly realized you were clenching his hand hard, and loosened your grip. “Oh, sorry, baby…” The corner of his mouth crept upward, and he raised a brow. “Y/n… why don’t you try texting me what’s going on,” he suggested with a knowing smile. “While you’re at it, I’ll make arrangements for someone to pick us up from here.” You gave him a bewildered stare. “Why not have a little fun, um… day... drinking?” He smiled sheepishly as you giggled. Kaku was willing to take one for the team if it made you feel more comfortable. Besides, it’s not like you had plans outside of each other for the rest of today. You pulled out your phone and began rapid-fire texting him every horny thought that came to mind. 📱[Y/N❤️‍🔥: take me to thebathroom and bend me over the sink :: do I think the server would notice if I sucked your dick under the table :: can i test it out? :: hmph. fine but i need u to choke me in the car, ok?] Needless to say, the look on his face was priceless.

— — ❤︎ Sanzu Haruchiyo

The club. It was ridiculously dark in the room, you could hardly see flashes of Sanzu’s vibrant eyes and his wicked toothy grin in the pitiful blue and purple flashing lights. Somehow, the loud music contributed to your poor visibility and absolutely fueled the fire of lust and love you had for your boyfriend. All you could do is let yourself be consumed by him, fully taking in the feeling of his body against yours. Nobody could see you two making out on the dance floor, the two of you heavily intoxicated and tuned in to each other’s reactions: every touch and moan made your grip on reality slip. Haru backed you tight against the wall, his arms caging you in. Your spine arched deliciously into his chest. His breath hot on your neck, lips dangerously close to sinking into your skin, but he paused right there. He grabbed the side of your head firmly and pressed your cheek to his face, lips tickling your ear as he spoke over the music. “Could fuck you right here,” his voice is low, breathy, and dead serious. “Want to so bad, can I?” His free hand slips between your legs and up your dress… before you know it, his fingers are tapping against your panties, electricity jolting your cunt with each touch. “Uh huh, I don’t care, want you now, Haru,” you whined in his ear. A breathy laugh escaped him before kissing you roughly, his tongue swiping along your own. Sanzu pushed his hips firmly against yours, his feet lightly kicked at the inside of your ankles to make you spread your legs further apart. He aligned your body with his pelvis, effectively trapping you further against the wall. The kiss was broken to mark your neck as his hands hungrily grabbed one of your thighs and wrapped it around his waist, his lanky stature securing your position. You just knew your boyfriend was gonna fuck you so good, his demeanor borderline feral as he bared his pointy canines… it was like he wanted to stake his claim in front of everyone at the club--and you’d sure as hell let him.

— — ❤︎ Shiba Taiju [bar fight/violence WARNING]

There was no denying that your boyfriend was and probably always will be a little nuts, but you loved him for it. You are perched on a barstool, watching the madness unfold with blurry vision. The unfortunate sucker that flirted with you 3 minutes ago is getting his ass whooped by your beast of a boyfriend. You really tried to stop him, but Taiju made up his mind the second he saw that guy put his hands on you. Honestly, seeing him fight for you was as flattering as it was arousing--oops, you meant to think ‘terrifying’... probably. The stupid scumbag’s friend broke a beer bottle and threatened Taiju with it as you scrambled to your feet, backing towards the exit. To your relief, one swift swing of Taiju’s fist and the guy was out cold. Your boyfriend whipped around and stomped towards you, immediately throwing his arms around you protectively. “‘M taking us home.” He breathed, managing to escape the fight with only bruised knuckles and bloody eyebrow. God, he looked so hot. The two of you stumbled out the door. The moment you were out of sight from the people crowding the bar, you pulled him in a searing kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his. Taiju’s strong hands twitched on your waist. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt an intense yearning for you just then, the kiss ending all too quickly for him. “I’ll get us a ride,” you said softly. He blinked at you slowly, his wide amber eyes unreadable beneath his furrowed brow. “Mmh.” Was all he said. As you fiddled with your phone, Taiju’s head lowered to your neck, his forehead resting against your shoulder. He clutched the fabric of your clothes at your hips harshly, a ragged breath leaving his lips. “Give me your body.” His voice was barely a whisper. His lips met your neck passionately as his body enveloped yours. “Tai—,” you gasped when his teeth sunk into your skin. “Baby,” you moaned weakly, “our ride will be here in a minute, let’s get home and then,” you panted softly, “you can have whatever you wish.”

— — ❤︎ Kisaki Tetta

“Hi, my diamond. Enjoying the view?” You knew it was Kisaki by his euphonic tone before you felt his arms wrap around your waist. He pressed his body against your back and rested his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek before gazing out at the sea with you. “Yes! It’s beautiful, the water is so blue,” you exclaimed. It truly is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen. Kisaki booked a vacation for the two of you: a cruise with a suite room so luxurious you would’ve mistaken it for a grand hotel room if not for the motion of the ship and sound of the waves. You’ve been his partner for years and somehow he outdoes himself every single anniversary. “Wanna have a drink with me?” He offered, planting another kiss to your face. “Sure!” You practically sang. Kisaki took your hand and led you from your private balcony to inside the suite. You almost fainted at the sight. Before you on the coffee table sat an ice bucket with pink champagne, strawberries, melted chocolate, whisky, soda, and a few of your favorite snack foods. “Happy anniversary, darling.” You immediately rushed to capture him in a giant hug, squeezing him tight and peppering kisses all along his face. “You really didn’t have to do all of this, my goodness. Thank you—thank you so much, Tetta. You really know how to make me feel special.” He smiled lovingly before you captured his lips in a heartfelt kiss. Kisaki poured you both a glass to start, you had a cute little toast, and then, you drank. It didn’t take long for the effects of the drinks to hit you. Between the high of the views, snack spread, and your handsome boyfriend... it’d be a fat lie to say you weren’t dying to get in his pants. “Tettaaa,” you whined. “Will you come cuddle me?” You asked climbing onto the bed. “Anything for you.” He said softly, his figure resting next to you on the mattress. One of the many things you loved about Kisaki was that he always dressed well. That, and his scent is intoxicating. You hummed and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh? I thought you wanted to cuddle?” Kisaki quirked a brow with a playful expression. “Maybe I just said that to get you into bed with me..?” You met his intense eyes and ran a hand along his chest, kissing him before he could respond. He pulled away gently, a slight snicker escaping him before adding, “Mm, well, I did say anything for you.”

— — ❤︎ Hanma Shuji

“wanna suck you off so bad, pleeeeaase baby your cock ‘s warm n you taste s’good, I want you in my mouth.” unbeknownst to you, the ‘whisper’ that left your lips could be heard by almost everyone in the room. Your friends gawked at you: some cackling, one mortified, others asking for someone else to repeat what you said because they missed it, and a few too stunned to speak. Hanma snorted at your comment, far too drunk, horny, and amused to be embarrassed. God he loved the shit you’d come up with when you drank together. “Yeah? ‘m going to smoke, wanna come?” His sharp golden eyes met yours, alluring grin beckoning you to join. “Mhmmmm,” you tugged at his arms as you stood up, pulling your boyfriend along with you. A few whistles and hollers rang out as you and Hanma stumbled out the door. Outside was surprisingly quiet. The distant sound of a few cars passing by was all you could hear. You walked down the stairs to the poorly-lit yard and backed him up against a large tree. The bark made indentions on your palms as you kissed Shuji with passion and desperation. You thought about asking for permission, but this time, you just wanted to go for it. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his tongue melting into your mouth. Hanma nipped at your bottom lip, trailed kisses down to your neck, and bit down roughly. He too was at a crossroads. Part of him wanted to throw you up against the tree and teach you a damn lesson, but a larger, needier part of him wanted to smoke… and watch you try to suck his dick while he did so. “God, won’t even give me a minute to breathe, let alone light a fuckin cigarette,” he slurred breathlessly. “Down, baby. Let me get this started and then you can have your way with me, hmm?♡.” He fished for his pack and lighter as you kissed down his body, your lips latching onto every inch of bare skin you could get, hands deliberately snaking under his clothes to feel as much of him as you could. “Fuckk, baby, you’re gonna ruin me…”

— — ❤︎ Shion Madarame

“GO GO GO GO—YEAAAAAHHHH ATTA BABYY!!!!” Shion belted as you chugged beer from a giant cooler. It was more liquid than you ever imagined could cram itself down your throat. You agreed to go to a frat party with him, of course, your sweet himbo boyfriend wanted to give the college partying lifestyle a shot. Liquor rushed to your stomach and your head at full speed, you swallowed your last gulp and hoped to goodness none of it would wind up coming back up. “HOLYYYY SHIT. Babe. You’re a goddamn legend.” As if he wasn’t already so whipped for you. “Yeah? s’all for you, daddy,” you slurred, feeling your knees buckle underneath you. Shion quickly moved to support your frame. “Oh fuck, baby, let’s get you layin’ down somewhere.” He helped you into the house and pulled you into an empty bedroom. “Here’s some water… y/n, you okay? I didn’t mean to come off as a dick-…ahh-” you pulled your boyfriend into a heated kiss on the bed. “I know, you didn’t. s’just beer, baby. I’m okay! I’ve taken more shots than beer I’ve had now before.” You smiled confidently. “…Huh? Wha-? Oh. I think I get it. You’re still drunk as fuck, doll. Wanna go home?” He peered into your eyes and cupped your face sweetly. “Uh-uh, lock the door. Come fuck me.” Shion’s face looked like he saw a ghost, or like his dreams were about to come true, or like a ghost appeared ready to make his dreams come true. “A-are you for real right now?” He asked, his voice wavering. You didn’t respond immediately, instead opting to pull him in to a sultry kiss, licking his tongue with your own, pulling away to bite on his bottom lip. “Oh, I’m for real.” You whispered, a handful of his hair clenched in your fist. Shion moaned breathily and hurried to go lock the bedroom door.

— — ❤︎ Tachibana Naoto

It was so dark tonight. You could only see two things: a faint red hue from the stoplight flooding into the car, and Naoto’s lap. Going out to dinner, you’d both usually have one drink or so, but this time, you talked your boyfriend into being your DD and got a little sloshed. He didn’t mind, though. He loved your raw confidence when liquor was added to your system. He’d get you back safe and take some shots when he got home, no sweat… right? “Fuuuck, baby, slow down,” he rasped, words mixing with moans catching in his throat. “I-isn’t this kinda dangerous?? We are only 5 minutes awAy-aaHh~” Naoto whined as you freed his cock from his slacks. “Nope. Want it now,” you stated flatly, hardly missing a moment before focusing on swallowing his dick. Your lips glided smoothly down his shaft, nose recklessly smashing into Naoto’s lap, his tip jutting against the back of your throat. You set a rigorous pace, hellbent on milking him and tasting his cum as quickly as you could. The light flicked to green. He moaned pitifully and tried his best to focus on driving, easing his foot off the pedal. He could lose control to you, but he would not under any circumstances lose control of the car. “Y/n, fuck,” he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you back roughly. “Slow down. Just a little,” he begged, “…please.” You found Naoto’s feeble attempt to take some control back in this situation to be adorable. You love your boyfriend and you know he can take charge when he means it, but you also know when he’s enjoying being at the mercy of your power. You moaned in response and licked the tip of his cock slowly, stroking the base with your free hand. “Mmh, just wait until I get you home,” Naoto lamented breathlessly.

— — ❤︎ Wakasa Imaushi [rough WARNING]

“Shhhh, shh shh,” Wakasa shushed you softly from underneath your skirt. “Just wanna taste,” he whispered, breath tickling your thighs. Waka had been an absolute menace at the bar all night: kissing your neck, slipping his hands under your skirt, teasing your pussy as you sat on a barstool in a puddle of slick, devouring you with his bedroom eyes as you took another shot together. And to make matters worse, the more he drank, the more bold he became. As if he wasn’t already too much to handle sober. He was so fucking smooth, too, nobody suspected a thing. Waka pretended to be a nonchalant, good boyfriend, helping his wasted babygirl get to the bathroom safely. In reality, he was an animal ready to sink his teeth into you. He made a soaking, shaking mess of you, teasing you to the point of having jelly legs, and lured you to the bathroom so he could continue to torment his prey. “Waka, you’re so cruel,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. “I don’t want you to tease me, I want you to fuck me, damn it,” you choked, trying to be firm and not to let any frustrated tears slip out. “Come again?” Imaushi pulled away from your legs to look you in the eyes. His stare was beyond intimidating, it was narrow and threatening. You blinked several times. “I said I wanted you to fuck me,” you replied cautiously. “Oh, baby, you should’ve said so sooner if that’s what you wanted.” He cooed, his voice sugary sweet, a little too sweet for your comfort. “But baby, you should be careful what you wish for.” In what seemed to an inebriated you as one swift motion, he stood up, snatched both your wrists in one hand, spun you around and pushed your chest against the bathroom counter.

— — ❤︎ Sano Shinichiro

“More,” you panted heavily. “’K, hurry up ‘n get this off,” Shinichiro slipped his hand underneath your cropped cardigan, half-yanking the sheer material to the side to plant a hickey on the top of your breast. You hastily untied the top and slipped it off your shoulders to give him a full view of your tits in your tight dress. Your hips circled his lap, desperately grinding against him. The windows of the car began to steam up as your body temperatures rose. The two of you went bar hopping and ended up too drunk to drive home. While you waited for a friend to pick you up, things got more than a little heated in the back seat. “Fuck...” his chest heaved against yours, dexterous hands gliding up your back to unzip your dress. As soon as the zipper was down, Shinichiro’s hands snaked under the bottom of the fabric, giving your ass a firm slap before hooking his fingers under your lace panties and sliding them down your thighs. “Mmh, such a perv, Shin,” you moaned, momentarily shifting to the side to get the lacy garment off one leg. “Yeah? I’m not the one desperate to get fucked-” “Shut up, you want it just as bad,” you rebutted, the both of you drunkenly giggling as you climbed back on top of him, engaging in another slutty kiss. Your hands began to undo his belt as his fingers tugged your dress and bra down to expose your chest. He bit your nipple teasingly, wandering touch disappearing under your dress to grope your thigh and play with your clit. “God, you are wet,” he groaned into your chest, long, slender fingers easily sliding into your warm cunt. “S-Shin-!” you whined, “-can’t get it... off,” you huffed between moans and tugged at his pants helplessly. “Hang on. Busy.” He purred near your ear, lips latching onto your neck while he pressed deeper inside you.

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iamyoojin

1 year ago

This shit hits harder than Peruvian cocaine 🙏🏻

kickoff | series masterlist.

gojo satoru x reader [18+] | angst, fluff, smut

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ status. ongoing

ᰔ word count. 72.5k

ᰔ taglist. open (feel free to comment!)

chapter index.

ch1. gojo satoru sent you a message

ch2. terms and conditions

ch3. returning the favor

ch4. a day in the life of a hot soccer player

ch5. these feelings are hard to find

ch6. devil's advocate

ch7. to lose someone you love

ch8. a little cottage on the countryside

ch9. words you've been wanting to hear

ch10. pending...

additional content.

official headcanons pt1. fluff, mild nsfw | link

anon headcanons. fluff | link

a note from the author. hello! my name is ellie, and this is my first long fic series called 'kickoff' which i began posting earlier this year in january! if you do decide to read it, i thank you very much from the bottom of my heart as it means a lot to me :””) please let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! and for those who may want to know before reading, this series will have a happy ending <3

Tags

alternate universe anime smut gojo satoru fluff angst jujutsu kaisen geto suguru jjk gojo gojo x reader choso kamo nanami kento romance college au jjk smut gojo smut series soccer jujutsu kaisen fanfiction sports au tw drinking gojo satoru angst gojo x reader smut gojo x reader fluff gojo x reader angst fraternity long fic ongoing series jjk series dividers by @/benkeibear & @/cafekitsune

4K notes View Post

iamyoojin

7 months ago