HAVE YALL SEEN THE SKETCHER AND JJK COLAB????? CHEFS KISS. there were literally cosplayers and they were so fricking good at the shop, but I was too shy lmaoođđđčđ€đ
ïżŒYâall donât realise how my face beamed at the first sign of angst. UNEXPECTED SURPRISE I LOVE ANGST YUMYYURSHSHđčđ
Being in a relationship with Sukuna had its challenges, especially when it came to his routines. So when you misplaced his gym bag by accident, it turned into a big deal. He was already thirty minutes late to his sessionâsomething he absolutely hatedâand now, he was in a foul mood. Sukuna despised losing anything, even time.
He was petty about it too, giving you the silent treatment for an entire day. By the middle of the second day, you couldnât take it anymore.
"Baby, I said Iâm really sorry, mm? I swear I wonât touch it again, I swear on my heart," you pleaded, raising your hand in a promise.
Still, nothing. He didnât even look at you. You had been racking your brain for a way to make him forgive you, and finally, you found the answerâfood.
His favorite meal: ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and a cold beer. He loved to eat, and if this didnât fully earn his forgiveness, it would at least make him smirk. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheekâthough he barely reactedâyou rushed to grab your bag and keys, hurrying to your car to do some shopping.
Meanwhile, Sukuna had gone to take a nap, expecting to wake up and find you at home, doing whatever you normally did. Yeah, he was annoyed about the bag, but at this point, he knew he was just being grumpy. He also knew that from now on, you wouldnât touch his stuff.
But when he woke up three hours later, you still werenât home. No text. No call. Nothing. He couldnât even check your location.
By the fifth hour, his stomach twisted in knots. Something felt wrong. The kind of wrong that sent a cold chill creeping down his spine. He was getting sick just thinking about it.
Then came a knock at the door.
When he opened it, he was met with two police officers, both looking tense. For a moment, they hesitated, almost startled by the sheer size of the man answering the door.
"Good afternoon, sir. Are you Ryomen Sukuna?" one of them asked.
"Yeah?" His voice was sharp, questioning. He didnât have time for thisâhis mind was already racing. His heartbeat was erratic, pounding against his ribs. He just knew something wasnât right. A dreadful, ice-cold sensation washed over his back.
"Sir, Iâm really sorry to inform you, but we found a car registered to this residence crashed on the rode. Unfortunately⊠there were no survivors. The only things recovered were a phone and an identification card. We need you to come with us to identify the body. Weâll give you a minute."
The moment Sukuna heard "Iâm sorry," his ears started ringing.
His chest tightened, fingers curling into fists. It felt like a cement block had been shoved down his throat, lodged deep in his lungs, leaving no room to breathe. No room to make a sound. His vision blurred at the edges, his mind rejecting the words being spoken to him.
He tried to blinkâyeah. Any second now, heâd wake up from his nap. There was no other explanation. No. Life wouldnât do this to him. No, yeah. Heâd wake up, shake off this nightmare, run downstairs, and find you there. Youâd smile at him, and heâd wrap his arms around you, burying his face in your neck, whispering apologies for being so damn spoiledâfor getting mad over a fucking gym bag.
That was it. Heâd been too spoiled, and this was just his wake-up call.
But he still wasnât breathing. His vision swam, black spots creeping into the edges. He didnât even feel himself swaying, but one of the officers must have noticedâbecause before he could crumble, a firm hand caught his arm, steadying him.
"Sukunaâsir, you need to sit down."
But he couldnât move. Couldnât listen.
Because this wasnât real.
It couldnât be.
It took the officers an hour to get Sukuna to calm down just enough. He hadnât even been breathing properlyâthey had to teach him how to work his lungs again. Every inhale was jagged, every exhale was forced, as if his body had forgotten how to function.
They had seen a lot in their line of work, but watching thisâthis was something else entirely. On any normal day, with his looks and presence, he mightâve been a suspect. But right now? Right now, he just looked like a man who had lost everything.
What they didnât see, however, was you.
You had managed to walk all the way home. It was a long journeyâan hour by car, so you could only imagine how long it had taken on foot. Your body ached, exhaustion settling into your bones, but the moment you saw the flashing lights of a police car in front of your home, you pushed through.
Your pace quickened into a jog. Why were they here?
The front door was already open.
And then you saw him.
Sukuna was on the floor, sitting with his back against the wall, his face void of any color. Two officers knelt beside him, speaking to him in low, careful tones.
Your brows furrowed. Since when did he get buddy-buddy with the cops?
But then you saw the way he was gripping his own arms, his fingers digging into his skin like he was holding himself together by sheer force alone. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his eyes empty, like he wasnât even seeing what was in front of him.
Something was very, very wrong.
It seemed none of them had noticed you yet, too caught up in whatever was happening inside. You stood there for a moment, confusion twisting in your gut before finally knocking on your own door.
"Excuse me⊠what is going on?"
The room fell into a deafening silence.
Sukunaâs head snapped up so fast it was almost inhuman. The officers turned, their expressions shifting from shock to pure disbelief.
But nothingânothingâcould compare to the way Sukuna looked at you.
At first, he didnât move. Didnât speak. Just stared. Like his brain couldnât process what his eyes were seeing. Like you were a ghost standing at the threshold of his grief.
Then, all at once, the tension in his body snapped. He was on his feet before you could blink, shoving past the officers like they werenât even there.
"Iâ" His voice cracked, raw and broken. His breathing was still uneven, his chest heaving. "YouâreâWhatâ"
Before you could respond, he yanked you into him, burying his face in your neck. His entire body trembled against yours, gripping you so tightly it was as if he thought you'd slip away if he let go.
You had never been this confused beforeâuntil you felt it.
Sukuna was sobbing. Not the quiet, restrained kind. No, gut-wrenching, broken sobs wracked his entire body. His grip tightened, his weight pressing against you as if he had completely given up.
You had never seen him cry. Not like this. Sure, maybe a few tears at your weddingâhappy ones. But now? His cries were raw, pained. The sound of it made your chest ache, your throat tighten. Unknowingly, your own tears welled up, threatening to spill as your hands instinctively cradled the back of his neck.
His legs buckled, bringing both of you to the ground, but he didn't let go. He couldnât.
You ran your fingers through his hair, whispering softly, "Itâs okay, loveâŠitâs okay."
But it wasnât okay. Not for him.
Sukuna only held you tighter, his ragged breathing hot against your skin. His entire body shook, and you could feel his heartbeat pounding erratically, as if he was still trying to convince himself that this was realâthat you were real.
"I thoughtâ" he gasped between sobs, his voice completely wrecked. "They saidâthey told me you were dead."
Your breath hitched.
Dead?
You pulled back just enough to see Sukunaâs face, his tear-streaked expression raw and panicked.
"Baby, I lost the car at the market," you began, voice shaking but determined to explain. "I parked it, but it was gone... my bag and my phone were in there too. I couldnât report it right away."
You glanced at the officers behind him, their presence almost felt like a distant blur.
Sukuna was still tense, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, the emotions warring inside him. His grip on you hadnât loosened and he wasnât speaking. The air around him was still suffocating with the weight of his worry and pain.
The officer behind him spoke up, his voice professional but clearly aware of the severity of the situation.
"Maâam, it seems thereâs been a huge miscommunication. We found the car crashed on the road, and there was someone inside. The vehicle was registered to this address, and the identification card we found belonged to you. We came to inform your husband."
Sukunaâs body tensed all over again, his hands gripping you tighter as the weight of the officer's words settled over him like a crushing wave.
The air felt too thick. Your mind was still piecing together the disorienting puzzle, but one thing was clear: Sukuna wasnât breathing any easier. His mind was still in a spiral, and even with the explanation, he wasnât calming down.
"Itâs okay, Suku." You whispered, trying to soothe him as much as yourself. "Iâm here now. Iâm really here."
But even as you spoke, he still couldnât let go of you, his body shaking, struggling to grasp the reality that was just as twisted and confusing for him as it was for you.
The officer, sensing the tension in the air, took a small step back, choosing his words carefully. "Maâam, itâs important that we make sure everything is resolved properly. Weâll need to keep an eye on the car accident, but⊠thereâs nothing more we need from you at this point." At that they left, leaving you with sukuna who is in pieces.
You lay on the marble floor, gently rubbing his back, trying to soothe him. Just when you thought heâd calmed down, his body would shake again, and heâd sob. You felt a pang of guilt deep in your chest, knowing you were the cause of this.
"âŠover a gym bag," he muttered, his voice muffled against your neck. He repeated the words, as if trying to make sense of it all. "Why did you go? Why did you leave me?"
You tried to joke, desperate to ease the tension, to lighten the mood. "I was going to make you a ribeye steak with mashed potatoes and a cold beer. And beg on my knees to be forgiven by my lord husband."
There was a long silence. You felt him tense against you for a moment before he responded, his voice barely a whisper. "Iâm sorry you married someone like me, Y/N..."
The sincerity in his words hit you like a wave. You pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart aching for him. Sukuna was not one to show weakness, yet here he was, completely undone. You knew he didnât mean thatâhe was just lost in his guilt.
"Donât say that," you whispered, cupping his face gently. Your thumb brushed over his skin, wiping away any trace of tears that still lingered. "Iâm not sorry I married you. Iâm sorry we let something so small get in the way of us."
He shook his head, his eyes clouded with doubt. "I messed up. I got mad over something so stupid."
You let out a soft sigh, your voice full of warmth. "It doesnât matter. We both messed up."
"I felt like they took out my soul and burned it," he muttered, his voice strained with the weight of his emotions. "I... I donât know how to bind you to me more than marriage. But it feels like none of it matters. How can I keep you forever? Should I build you a house in my heart? Make you tiny and keep you there, never letting you out of my sight again? Never."
His voice cracked with raw desperation, the vulnerability in his words almost unbearable. You could hear the depths of his fearâfear of losing you, of not being enough.
"I'm just so scared," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "that Iâm not enough. That I'll lose you."
You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, your breath mingling. "Youâre more than enough," you whispered. "Youâre everything to me, Sukuna. Nothingâs going to change that."
His eyes, bloodshot and raw from the tears heâd shed, searched yours with an intensity that made your heart ache. He cupped your face gently, his touch almost reverent, as though he was afraid to touch you too much in case you vanished.
"You really mean that?" he asked, his voice cracking again, the uncertainty still hanging in the air.
"More than anything," you said, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingers. "You are my world, Sukuna. Always have been."
For a moment, there was only silence between you two, the weight of everything hanging in the space around you. Then, slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kissâslow, hesitant, as if he was afraid it might shatter everything.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours again, his breathing still shaky. "I donât deserve you," he whispered.
"Don't say that," you murmured, your hands still tracing the lines of his chest, grounding him, reassuring him. He let out a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening. "Promise me you wonât leave. Promise me you wonât ever leave me."
"I promise," you said, the words filled with all the conviction in the world. "Iâm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever."
And with that promise, he finally allowed himself to relax, his body leaning into yours as he exhaled a breath of relief.
Most delicious rage baitđ
angst | jjk men x f!reader
when youâre in need of them but theyâre busy helping another woman you donât have great history with
featuring: gojo, geto, sukuna, toji
pt. 1 (taglist open)
ïœĄïŸâąâê°á ⥠à»ê±ââą ïœĄïŸ
a/n: various! x reader angst debut guys. readerâs tired of this repetitive behavior btw so she means business.
Oh my heart
ft. choso, gojo & nanami
cw: this is angst. it's just angst. you've been warned!
Tbh, I agree with all the comments on everything except Yujis and partly nanamis. Because yuji just wants to go out, and visibly he has been adapting to our lifestyle because itâs what we want to do, meanwhile we canât compromise for him? And introvert or not, I should know, when youâre with someone you love what youâre doing or who youâre with doesnât matter, just them. As for Nanami, I feel like we couldâve held back on the comment and just, become serious for a bit. Just one text showing we care about what heâs expressing. No?
Smau: in which they bring up their ex Warnings: cursing, angst Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki
So good!
IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! â GOJO SATORU
SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that heâs been hiding something about your relationship the entire time
INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. âBaby, please just listen to me.â He pleads, following after you.
âI donât wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.â You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels youâve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event heâs been planning for months now.
âIâm not trying to make excuses. Please.â He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. âStop throwing shit and just talk to me!â
âYou donât get to tell me what to do!â You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. âDo you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, youâre a fucking asshole.â You seethe, narrowing your eyes. âI sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?â You scoff.
âSheâs just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didnât mean to make you feel that way.â He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.
âOh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know weâve been only together for a year, Satoru, but thatâs fucking low.â You pull away from him. âThey didnât even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didnât do a damn thing to stop it!â You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.
âSlow down, y/n! Babyââ
âIâm not your fucking âbabyâ, Satoru.â You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.
âStop for just one second.â He spins you around so youâre facing him. âDonât leave. I swear youâre the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.â He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you canât forgive him that easily. âI only want you. I only need you.â
You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. âShouldâve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.â You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.
Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasnât going to let you go. Not like this. âI shouldnât have let her near me.â
âWhy was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?â You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. âNow that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.â You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.
âIt was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!â He tried to explain. âBaby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. Youâre the only who has my heart.â He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.
âClearly I ainât the only who whoâs got your dick, though.â You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.
âDonât say that, y/n. Thatâs the first time Iâve seen her in years!â
âYeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She mustâve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!â You scoff. âLike I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!â You throw your hands up in disbelief. âYou must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!â
âI donât take you for a joke! Youâre my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!â He takes a step towards you.
âDo I know that?â You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.
âWhatâof course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?â He looked at you with pure confusion.
âYouâre a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. Youâre a piece of shit.â You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. âThink I wouldnât find out?â You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.
âYes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend butââ
âSo you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.â You step closer towards him. âListen to me, Satoru, donât ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,â you spoke through gritted teeth.
âNo, no, no, baby. You canât leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I donât want us to end this way.â He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.
âLet me go, Satoru.â
âNo,â he shakes his head, âI canât. Youâre everything to me. Sheâs nothing compared to you.â He sniffles, holding your hands in his. âI love you so much and Iâm so sorry I didnât tell you the truth. Iâm sorry I embarrassed you. And Iâm sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She canât.â His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.
You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. âBye, Satoru.â You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojoâs sobs, something youâve never heard before in the year youâve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought youâd see or him break down. Especially not for you.
Another victimâŠđčđ»đ«¶đ»
does anyone have any ideas for my next smau? I don't know what to do đ
If anyone has any requests just send in an ask POR FAVORRRR
DamnâŠDAMNâŠdamn.
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Warnings!- Fem reader, slightly mature language.
Walking through the wooden arches of the house that is the Zenin clans, muffled conversations heard in the background as your heels click against the creaking floorboards. Turning to the left, idly, incredibly bored by this elder yapping your ear off about some âYou should be honoured we are even asking for a womanâs opinion, offering marriage into OUR clanâ Where are you manners? The ajar bamboo door is slid 3 inches, and from the opening, a dirty blond, piercing eyes, makes eye contact. A small, polite smile graces my lips as a sign of acknowledgement, only to be met with a scowl of disgust by the man. What a pretty face for such a shitty attitude? Maybe itâs a bad day. Letâs hope I see the cutie around more often to determine.
The fact that gojo the strongest too, so the only suicide missions would be the ones he makes an effort to carry out as such. The only way he ends up on shokos table would be if he wanted to be.
Gojo Satoru couldnât stand you. He couldnât bear the faint smell of your shampoo in the stairwell youâd just left, the sound of your laughter disappearing around the corner.
Heâd started excusing himself from staff meetings at school, much to the fury of the higher-ups. But he quite literally couldnât be in the same room with you. Not after what heâd done.
The strongest sorcerer started letting his Infinity slip, hoping youâd brush against him in the hallway just so he could feel you again.
He got sloppy on missions, ending up on Shokoâs operating table more and more often. The last time, forced back into consciousness by her technique and a lungful of secondhand smoke, she had called him on it.
âAre you trying to get yourself killed, Satoru? You think thatâs going to bring them back?â He took so long to answer that she started to worry heâd passed back out.
âI know it wonât.â His ocean-blue eyes were an abyss. âBut then it wouldnât hurt anymore.â
Gojo knew he hardly had the right to say it. You had only had one request of him when you got together, one thing that worried you about getting involved with him and his reputation. And he had blown it all up.
It didnât matter that it was his first love, his high-school ex that he never really got over. It didnât even matter that he had a good excuse when it came down to it. You had caught Gojo with his tongue down someone elseâs throat, and ended it on the spot.
So he dragged himself and his self-pity around campus, half-heartedly instructing the first years when he wasnât busy volunteering for suicide missions.
You kept your broken heart well-hidden, quietly requesting a transfer to Kyoto at the end of this semester. You looked right through him when you couldnât avoid him entirely, and found empty bathroom stalls to cry in afterward.
+++++++++++++++++
You had carefully planned your escape, steadily sending your belongings on to the Kyoto school and distancing yourself from the administration of the Tokyo campus for the past few weeks. Now moving day was here, a one-way ticket clutched in your hand. It felt both impossible and inevitable.
No one was there to see you off, as requested. Your closest friends would come visit and everyone else didnât care much either way.
Except for the person you were running from.
You felt him before you saw him, his Six Eyes boring into you from across the station. His snow-white hair was scruffy, sticking up like heâd been pulling at it. Dark sunglasses hid his shadowed eyes.
âGojo? What the fuck are you doing here?â You knew he could hear your harsh whisper from where he stood.
âGojo, huh? Ouch.â He crossed the room in a blink, pushing up his glasses to show off an exaggerated wince, one eye scrunched shut. âThat hurts.â
âGood. You should know how it feels. Now if you donât mind, I have a train to catch.â You tried to step around him, but he easily mirrored you.
âIt doesnât leave for another ten minutes. Can we talk?â
âTalk? Talk about what, asshole? How your ex tasted?â A pointless shove against his broad chest.
Gojo caught your wrists in one hand. âPlease.â
You made the mistake of eye contact, taking a half-step closer, and your heart broke open all over again. He was so beautiful, so desperate, his vulnerability a halo. The wound you had tried to cauterize with space and silence flared back to agonizing life.
He sensed your hesitation- he knew all your weaknesses- and used the opportunity to pull you into his arms. âIâm so sorry. So, so sorry, you have no ideaâŠâ murmured apologies into your hair.
âFuck you,â you said to his chest.
âI know, baby.â A shaky laugh. âI know.â
Against all your instincts, the longing to melt into his embrace, you stepped back. âSatoruâŠâ you did your best to ignore the hope in his face when you used that name. âYou canât expect me to forget what youâve done.â
âI donât! I swear. Just please, donât run away from this. From us. I canât lose you.â He still held your wrists, your pulses knocking against each other.
âYou already did.â
He lets go, off balance, like youâd punched him in the gut. Your train doors are opening and youâre turning away, not before you catch the shine of tears in his blue, blue eyes.
Youâre sorry too, so goddamn sorry, but youâre stepping off the platform and thereâs nothing left to say, even if you had the time to say it.
The doors close indifferently, your world cleaved in two. Before and after, inside and out. You turn back, watching him shrink into nothing as you pull out of the station. He watches you disappear for much, much longer.
YUMYUMYUM
18+ smut ehe. everything's consensual. not proofread.
im sure its well known that choso kamo looks intimidating, menacing â terrifying even.
nobody looks at him wrong, scared that one breath his way will send them to an early grave. its just instict to the public to not to mess with him.
and yet, you couldnt disagree more.
you never truly understood why everyone was so afraid of him. were people really judging how he looks at first glance? the nerve!
no, you knew him as the sweetest man in the world. you thought he was so cute, waiting for you outside your office with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and takeout for your dinner like the bundle of joy he was.
he hid himself underneath that scarf you got him. whether you made it yourself or bought it for him, he almost never took it off, especially when the colder seasons drew nearer.
and when youre with him, all those nasty icky people never comes close. its perfect, really. you sometimes use it to your advantage whenever you dont want to be bothered by anyone.
your friends even jokingly congratulated you for the free scary dog privilege. awesome!
everyone thinks you two are so unbelievably cute, such polar opposites! your tall, dark and intimidating boyfriend smiles when you hold his big, pale, scarred hand in your smaller, more fragile-looking one.
obviously, he's gotta be so gentle and sweet to you in bed, accommodate his length into your unbelievably tight cunt. its practically an unspoken rule of morality, right?
they could have never been more wrong.
nobody knows the way you ruthlessly roll and bounce your hips against him, engulfing his thick cock into the warmth of you clenching walls while you swallow all his whines and cries with a shove of your tongue while you plummet him into the grasps of utter overstimulation.
hes trying so hard to get out of his cuffs, tugging and squirming, wanting to just touch you because â well, how could he not?
all choso wants to do is please you. he'll gladly get down on his knees and eat you out until the morning rises or you pass out, so why dont you let him? he's your good boy isn't he?
youre such a tease about it too.
tie him up, press a bullet vibrator against his cock on any setting. his swollen tip leaking everywhere, leaving his balls and thighs all drenched from how long youve edged him with a pretty pink bow tied on his hard dick with nothing to do but buck his hips and pretend that he's getting the friction that he so desperately needs. he cant.
he's crying, pleading for you to just let him cum. big fat tears roll down his cheeks as he rambles about how good he was to you. you have this man absolutely whipped, quite literally wrapped around your finger.
but it's all so worth it for both of you, cause when he finally cums under your command, he just feels so good. his toes curl and his back arches so prettily, but his face contorting into one of pure unadulterated pleasure has got to be one of the best sights to ever grace your eyes while your ears are blessed with the most heavenly sounds of choked moans and sobs mixed with thank yous said in a chant.
so you find it quite amusing that everyone is so heavily convinced that choso could bend you in half whenever he wants, knowing there's a whole folder of pictures and videos you took of him in every position you bent him into in your phone.
he has that killer glare that does not hold up the very moment you two are alone â but fret not, he will absolutely kill for you.
in the end, that's just his unwavering love for you. you make him feel entirely human â that it's completely okay to be vulnerable and seen as a faithful and loving companion. you adore each other, and that's all he needs.