Jjk Choso - Blog Posts

☆ new, weird feelings

choso kamo x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: choso feels really weirdly towards [name]. he doesn't know what this feeling is, but it doesn't feel bad at all.. (meant to be viewed as romantic)

the lowercase is intentional !

choso couldn't understand what this feeling was. it was different to how he felt towards all his younger brothers, and it was different to how he felt towards basically everyone else. you made him feel new things.

these feelings didn't make choso feel bad. in all honesty, they made him feel good inside. but he just couldn't understand why he was feeling this way only towards you and nobody else.

whenever he saw you, a pit would grow in his stomach and his face would grow hot. he didn't understand why! was he growing a fever? was he alergic to you? he seriously didn't know.

everytime choso tried to talk to you, his brain seemed to stop cooperating. he couldn't form a sentence, or even say a word to you. and still, the poor man didn't understand why. it wasn't like your cursed technique, or lack of one, made him like this, so what was it?

if someone mentioned you whilst he was around, whether that was itadori or another person linked to you, choso always found himself stopping in place. his ears would perk up and he would freeze on the spot. just the mention of your name did things to him. he felt fireworks going off in his mind, and his pale face heated up. but of course, choso didn't understand what was wrong with him. maybe he should go to a doctor..

of course, the half - cursed didn't go to a doctor though. he hadn't been to one in centuries anyway and all of his so called 'symptoms' would probably make the doctor laugh. so, he went to the next best option...

...you.

because you were the cause of all of choso's problems, he figured he would easily be able to solve it with your help. you'd probably know what's wrong with him.. right?

so, choso set out to find you. once he did, he stopped in his tracks. all of his 'symptoms' were coming back. choso's face was growing hot, a red tint growing on his pale face. a pit formed in his stomach, as if it was being swarmed by butterflies. his mouth went dry to the point where he couldn't say what he wanted to say to you.

luckily, you notice him and you turn your attention towards him with a smile. oh how your smile pangs his heart.. what are you doing to him?

"choso!" you beam, definitely excited to see the named ravenette. "what're you doing here?" you smile at him, tilting your head to get a better view of him.

your voice, your looks, your everything... it's doing something to him and he seriously doesn't know what! he feels like he's going to turn into a puddle because of how hot he feels right now.

choso tries to say something. his mouth opens, but it quickly shuts again. he doesn't know what to say to you. you're doing too much to him..

you look at him with a raised eyebrow, confused as to why he's not saying anything. yes, choso was the more reserved and calm type, but he said more words than none. "are you alright?" you ask, trying to get at least something out of him.

choso just nods meekly. again, he's not able to comprehend any sentences right now. he has to calm down before he can speak. or maybe he won't calm down because you're right infront of him.

"you're.. you're doing something to me." choso finally speaks up but in a hushed tone. once he finishes speaking, his mouth shuts again and he looks away from you. he's too embarrassed, or maybe it's not embarrassment, but something else?

you look at him confused, not understanding what he's trying to say. "what do you mean, choso?" you shake your head, truly not understanding what he meant.

the way you said his name just made him feel like he was melting again.. but he had to compose himself and try and get these words out.

"you make me feel weird." choso starts, not knowing how to describe it best for you to understand. "anytime i'm with you, i feel all warm inside. it feels like my stomach hurts too. do i need a doctor?" he asks. you laugh a little at his question, finding it funny how oblivious choso is to love.

you step a little closer to choso, practically closing the gap that was between the two of you. "you definitely don't need a doctor, all you need is me." you whisper before pressing your lips against choso's cheek. you wanted to make sure he felt okay with a kiss on the cheek before you moved onto anything else.

and there it was again, the butterflies in his stomach, the heat inside him, the inability to comprehend what's going on with him. choso was so confused, and you just kissed his cheek!

"i think you like me, romantically. i guess you've just always focused on your brothers and how to protect them that you didn't know what romance was like." you shrug, taking a step back to give choso some time to process. the ravenette slowly nodded, understanding what you said to an extent.

choso then pondered for a moment, looking down at the floor as he did. "but, do you feel this way about me too?" he asked, meeting your eyes now. he hoped you felt the same. he wanted you to feel the same.

"yes, i wouldn't of kissed your cheek otherwise." you laugh slightly, a smile still on your face as you also met eyes with choso. "i like you, a lot. romantically."

this time, choso steps forward. he's the one to close the distance and initiate stuff between the two of you now. he puts a hand on your cheek and he looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips too. he then softly presses his lips against yours for a soft, sweet kiss.

choso was glad his feelings led to this moment. it was perfect, idyllic, picturesque. it was everything and more that he could've dreamed of. and he wouldn't of had it any other way.

☆ request ▪︎ masterlist

☆ author's note: i love choso. him in the new ep !!

This needs more attention

It's the dead bitches of the anime playing the game of life for me

⤷ KENMA KOZUME, L LAWLIET, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, iguro obanai, shoto todoroki, TOMURA SHIGARAKI, GIYUU TOMIOKA, xiao, MATT JEEVAS, choso kamo, genya shinazugawa, SHUN KAIDO

Finished crossover sketch!!

I love my boyfriends!!

So about that smau I was talking about earlier, while I do have some ideas I feel like they're going to be too similar to other creators so I'd like your suggestions.

And just in case you haven't seen the poll it has to be a JJK AU. I guess I'll just check if I find an idea I like.

Bye 🖤💜

I know what you did last summer. (Pt.3)

The jjk man may have seen your AI chats/fictional crushes

Ryomen sukuna, Shiu kong, Choso Kamo

𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐏𝐈𝐌𝐌 𝟒

(𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝)

Listen. To. Me. I don't mind sub choso but I don't understand why everyone DEMANDS that he's always gonna be a sub. Like I get he's inexperienced and I also get that he's a curse and he's prolly like scared to put his shlong in anything that's not his hand. BUT, I feel like once you teach him that it's okay to do certain things and how to properly have a sex, HES NOT GONNA BE SUB BRUH. I'd call him a semi Dom switch. Especially when he's Jealous.

I think that he would want to fuck you on a wall or a window, despite not wanting to be seen or heard it's something about being on a surface that is durable enough to shield prying eyes but thin enough to show authority. Like you can't see me but you're gonna fucking hear me.💯

Your cheek firmly pressed against the wall muffling your moans. Your hands behind your back or on the wall with Choso behind you mercilessly ramming into you in his purple hoodie. Of course you had a matching one with a skull on it. Choso just loves the idea of you guys having the same stuff or matching. Not only does it give him a sense of pride but after he found out his likes and dislikes when he started dating you he got really into fashion (I'm definitely writing something on this)

Choso's strong and vainy hand overlapping yours and locking fingers with you on the wall while he leans over you slightly, whispering praises and demands in your ear.

"You're so pretty when you're taking my dick, ma.."

Or

"Take this dick (Y/N nickname) fuck... You look like a goddess.."

Or...

"S-shit.... Just like that baby... Right there.. you're doing so good..."

For all the people convinced he's a sub I got something for you too (not exactly sub behavior 😂)

On a nice chilly and clear night where the stars are visible you guys would just turn all the lights off and plug in some LEDs (obviously purple tf) and just get to it. I mean the mood can't be any better. You get on top of Choso and ride him carefully but firmly while making some intense eye contact with a sly grin.

"The fuck are you starin' at?" He grins at you and looks at you curiously.

"You just look good under me" you say slyly while riding him a bit faster.

"Contrary to the overpowering urge to flip you over and fuck you till you're crying for ya daddy, I've been extremely calm with you, yeah?" He smirks and pushes your hips down harder.

"Pftt that's nothing you're gonna have to try harder than that..."

"Bet" He raises his knees making you lean forward and quickly and brutally fucks up into you and repeatedly smashes your G spot. The sensation made you shake and to say the least you were paralyzed for a good hour after that.

(I CAN'T BE THE ONLY PERSON WHO GETS MILES MORALES 42 VIBES FROM CHOSO.😭😭😭)

⏤͟͟͞͞☆𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃.

◉ 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

(Forgive me. It's my first time writing NSFW)

Tw: overstimulation, sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, crying, comfort, mention of positions (vague) and a couple of other things lol.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨

A huge silent room was filled with the sounds of moans and the repeated smacking of the huge bed smacking the wall. "F-fuck... Baby... You're so cute when you're like this.." Followed by the repeated slamming of his hips into you. By the arch your back was making you would assume that it would just break after one more thrust. The entire bed and its frame shook intensely and the room was filled with a vague sweet smell.

At this point your legs gave out already and you were laying on the bed taking it with nothing but a few whines and an intense grip on the pillow in front of you. "T-toru w-wait. I can't-..." He followed this up with a chuckle. "Don't worry just let me take care of you..."

The speed picks up and all you can do is feel. Blinded by your watery eyes, all you can see is a blurry pillow that's drenched in tears. Your poor cervix being hit every single time and repeatedly getting abused by Satoru's huge cock as it thrusts back in you deeper and deeper until... "Limitless!"

The entire mood and atmosphere of the room goes grey as he immediately gets up and checks on you. "Baby, fuck, I'm so sorry are you okay?" You twitch uncontrollably as you keep your face in the pillow trying to recollect yourself. Satoru grabs some water and snacks before coming back to you quickly and gently putting you in his lap.

"fuck... I'm so sorry..." You sniffle and look up at him. "I-its okay.. I was just a little overstimulated" Satoru had a face disgust with himself before you kissed his neck and jawline before leaving a long kiss on his nice red lips. "'s okay baby I know you just felt good..." He looked up at you and put his self disgust aside and grabbed the snacks/candy and shot you a worried "I'm sorry" look.

"Break?"

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨

"Fuck..baby, you look so pretty under me" You squirm under him as the thrust of his cock sends shock through your entire body. You were trapped under him with thighs putting infinite secondhand pressure on your chest while your feet hung over his shoulders.

" 'guru, wait- I... mmph!" Your whines were muffled by 2 long fingers entering your mouth. "Suck" Just then you followed his orders with little hesitation. But the more and more he thrust into your abused cunt the more and more your tears and numbness caught up to you.

The build up to your third orgasm was evident and it wasn't graceful. "S-Suguru!" He responded with a grin and even rougher treatment. "Overstimulated?" He said looking down at you. It was less of a concerned face and tone more of a condescending one. You looked up at him feeling like the pressure inside you was going to burst.

"Curse!" In an instant the reality had set in a few seconds late. He pulled out which made a small 'pop' noise. When he saw you gasping for air and clenching your thighs together. His mood shifted and he left to go fetch a towel. After cleaning up he put you to bed and let you rest after stepping out of the room.

When you woke up you noticed the soreness in your legs and chest was mostly gone and the fact that Suguru wasn't there. Confused, you sent a text asking where we went. "Y/N, sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to go that far. I should've stopped sooner, I'm downstairs right now and I got you food it's on the table I just figured you would want to have time to yourself after that" you could hear the guilt in his texts and that made you feel guilty. "No Suguru it's okay, I'd feel better if I were with you :)" "alright, I'm coming 🩶"

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

What a predicament to be in. Folded like a pretzel in the lap of your husband after a particularly rough day at work which led to the same treatment reflected in your sex life. Two large hands grip your waist and help you navigate up and down his huge shaft with subtle grunts.

"K-Kento-" "Quiet, All I need is another Hour" "that's the thing I don't think I have another hour in me-" A small pause was followed by a grunt. "Then I'll get my hours worth now" Restricting your hands and holding down your waist he thrusts up into you with intense speed.

It made you want to shatter right then and there. A growing feeling of sickness arises inside your stomach. "K-Kento... Wait... please" A giant hand silences your cries and the reoccurring hits on your cervix pushes you over the edge. Tears stream out of your eyes and your tongue sticks out of your mouth. "Overtime!"

His automatic husband mode completely overpowered his angry, tired, and needy personality. He took you off his lap and laid you down. "Honey, I'm so sorry are you alright?" You roll over to go under the covers with a shiver. "I'm fine kento, I just need some rest, please don't worry." Despite the alarm in his face he agreed. But he might use this as a reason for him to take a break from his sex life.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

At this point you're questioning if you're even alive or if you will be alive when you're done with this if you'll ever be done with it. Right now, being rammed into repeatedly, you lay there just thinking about your decisions which is even harder to do when you can't even focus on something as simple as speaking and breathing.

"t-toj-..." The feeling of his cock slapping your pussy over and over again, making you drool. "Heh, y'r putting on a show aren't 'cha?" In return all he got was a mumble and some broken moans. It was evident that you weren't in the right state of mind when being fucked dumb on his thick length.

"t-toji, I- I can't... 's too much..." A low groan and snicker came from toji as lifted you higher and fucked into you faster and harder. The pleasure and pain evident on your face as you both looked at yourselves in the mirror. Sure it wasn't his favorite position but having you in a full Nelson made him experience an excitement deep within him.

"Damn it, Broke Bitch!" You hiss. "Well that was just mean, doll" he looks at you with a half disappointed and confused face and puts you down. Which you immediately fell on the floor, face first because your legs gave up. "Help me, Brokie" "Nah I don't think I wanna after you called me a broke bitch and clocked out early"

"TOJI on everything I love, you not being one of them, if you don't get me off this dirty fuckin floor..." With a sigh and way too much attitude he obliged. "Fine ya big baby" He picks you up and chucks you on the bed. "Clearly you're washed up" your eyebrows furrowed. As you took sight of his boldness "And clearly your broke ass doesn't understand the fact that I pay the bills in this fucking house and if you don't get your shit together you gonna be sleeping with that fuckin cat"

"yes Ma'am" with a smirk you accept the blanket given to you and snuggle in the big velvety sheets. "Thank you, Brokie Toji"

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨

Straddling Choso was always one of your favorite things to do and he likes it too. "F-Fuck Cho! 's so good" "fuck.... Right there, Ma..." As you continue to ride him your legs slowly started to feel more numb. As good as it felt you didn't know how much longer you could bring yourself to doing this.

"Cho' I don't know how much longer I can keep this up" "Come on mama, you're doing so well..." Choso grips your hips tightly and continues to guide you on his cock. Giving you some words of support while doing so. Tears well up in your eyes as your body starts to give out leaving you to just silently cry for release.

Your hips crash down on his cock repeatedly as a nice silky white ring forms at his base. "That's it baby, just a little more...shit.." his grip only intensifies as he speeds up and gets slightly more possessive. "Cho' please, let's take a break!" "What...?" Clearly, he took that the wrong way which caused him to be even more possessive.

He wrapped his arms around you and thrusted faster. "Mine..." Choso was more terrified of you leaving more than anything so anything that sounded remotely close to a break up just broke him. "Blood!" The gears in choso's head stopped turning. He didn't even realize what was happening for around 10 seconds before he realized you used your safe word.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! Y/N, please forgive me!" Your mind was still fuzzy but you were still conscious enough to know that Choso was 2 seconds away from freaking out. "Hey, hey it's okay! I meant let's relax and take a break." You wipe your tears and his forming tears and you two just quietly cuddle and enjoy each other's company."

𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Even though you should be pretty used to overstimulation, this time is particularly worse because it wasn't just overstimulation. this time it was followed by teasing and it wasn't ideal because this time he didn't take it easy.

"c'mon brat, where's that pretty face gone?" Tears stroll down your face and cover your cheeks. Being fucked dumb on Sukuna wasn't knew but when he chose to be in his true form and in front of people, it was quite literally the worse experience ever.

"'Kuna... I can't.. 's too much-" like those pathetic mumbles were to do anything, the only thing happening right now that was different was the fact that he now seemed prouder in a way. Showing you off like a trophy for all of those lower than him to see.

"M-murder!" His eyes widened slightly as he came to a stop. Then they turned into one of boredom. He dismissed everyone before going back to you. "Brat what's the problem?" Trying to catch your breath while crying wasn't easy. It was even harder when he didn't pull out.

"Kuna, can we take a break, please?" You almost stumble over your words while trying to collect yourself. He takes you off his lap and places you on his throne.

"I'll tell Uraume to drop off some towels and clothes for you, when you are ready, come find me". He started to walk away leaving you with his kimono. "You know where to find me."

"thanks, Kuna..."

"...you're welcome Y/N"

✩*⢄⢁✧ ----.・。.・゜✭.・✫・゜.・。.・・.----✧⡠*☆

An: OMG ITS DONE. sorry everyone this isn't my normal writing style and I was also battling with myself about making it more graphic, I don't have a problem with that stuff but I have to get over the ick of writing it out. As for the safe words I didn't have them planned so I just spat out some bullshit. Ngl I actually felt a little weird writing it but y'know I ended up doing it so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ good for me I guess lol.

@smionrileyswifetehe

⏤͟͟͞͞✧𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.

𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐏𝐈𝐌𝐌 𝟏

(𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝)

Why can I clearly imagine 𝐃𝐚𝐛𝐢 and 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 (separately) shopping with you at a Hot Topic and literally balling out with the pictures in the changing room. They probably would wear every single accessory like rings, earrings, bracelets, chains and all types of stuff while in the back taking pictures with you. And since both of them are on the more horny side of the spectrum. Who knows what will happen if you wear something like a skirt or a cute top. Things will get a little heated in that dressing room. Making sure that you don't grab anything that would get their attention that much would probably be the best idea. Although I feel like it would only make this Hot Topic visit even hotter. It could just be me but I feel like Dabi and Choso would live at Hot Topic hypothetically and it could be because I read a Choso fic where he worked at Hot Topic but as for Dabi just comes natural to me.

What do y'all think?

"𝐂'𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲."

"𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭."

ch⭕️so

boyfriend <3

reblogs are appreciated!!

Started line art but I'm probably not gonna finish

NEED THIS, if anyone has this vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway this gives me CHOSO KAMO vibes

yan!jjk - who's most likely to kidnap you?

8- Toji Fushiguro

Okay listen, the only reason this guy isn't kidnapping you is because he's living at YOUR house. You make the money, and he trusts you to be fine on your own. The worse he'd possibly do is keep you on house arrest so he can make sure you're safe and it ends very shortly. Over all he can't afford (literally) to not have you go outside.

7- Yuji Itadori

This is mostly the same reason as Toji's - he doesn't have his own house. The dorm is very cramped for two people and even then someone would notice the noise. But the most important reason, Itadori doesn't want to ruin your trust! What if you never want to hug him again???? He doesn't want to see you sad! You're perfectly fine at your own house right now!

6- Megumi Fushiguro

While it's very likely that he could kidnap you as he has a house, the house is the problem. He lives with Gojo, and he doesn't think kidnapping would just be excused. Even if Gojo excused it, he'd feel sorrow for all the annoyance Satoru would cause.

5- Choso Kamo

I feel like Choso would be very guilty of kidnapping you. Just like Itadori, it'd break his heart seeing you so sad. The only difference is he can keep you trapped in Dagon's domain! It's a lovely place so perhaps you'd get used to it.

4- Kento Nanami

Nanami is very middle of the road. On one hand, if you had some kind of disability or you were sick (see sick!reader fic), he'd kidnap you. He doesn't want your safety to be risked at all. But if you are none of those, he wouldn't see a reason to, he'd much rather coax you into moving in with him rather than ruining your relationship entirely.

3- Suguru Geto

Suguru is kidnapping you, no questions asked. You think he's just going to let you run amock and get killed because of your connections to him?? No no, you're much safer inside the cult, where no one can get you without passing the sorcerers. He's definitely a bit lax when it comes to you going outside- as long as it's with someone he trusts.

2- Satoru Gojo

It's not safe for you to date AND roam around. Satoru's being constantly targeted by curses and curse users! They're going to use you one way or another! You're never leaving, that's the point. But it's okay! He'll still bring you your favorite food! And you still have him to talk to! Do you have a death wish asking for him to be a bit more relaxed about this? Don't you care about him!!!

1- Ryomen Sukuna

It's Sukuna. What'd you expect? He wouldn't even let you MINGLE with other humans before you're on house arrest. You must always be near him, who'd even try to damage the most protected human? He does not PLAY about this, he makes sure that Uraume keeps an eye on you when he can't be there, and his servants are the utmost loyal to him. You're not getting away- ever.

Been reading the jjk manga lately and OMG Choso was already my fav but in the manga he gets so much better and then Higuruma showed up and DAMN

I think I may have a thing for tired, depressed men

Got bored and re-drew some random scenes i could find on Google (one of which i found thanks to my friend- ty Blu🥲)

Lovely Choso sketch for the soul

✩ "I would get killed by your hands just to see you live." .:｡✧*.｡✰───

summary: he loved you so much he allowed you to let him go.

contents: jjk as angst tropes series: choso kamo, choso x f!reader, established relationship, not canon so no spoilers cz i realized its called fanFICTION so i can create whatever i want, forbidden romance, choso dies cz of reader, fluff at the beginning, angst cz who wouldve guessed, also written badly

word count: ≈1.9k

The moon generously illuminated the darkness of the abandoned building. It was just like the way you knew it. You memorized every curve of it, how the light would hit each spot, the way the debris stacked on top of each other–and where you would see him standing there, waiting for you. 

It started when you two both approached each other, thinking you guys were the same species. He thought you were a curse, and you thought he was a sorcerer. It caused you two to share the struggles you both had, and unbeknownst to both of you, it was similar struggles. It caused mutual pining that you both could only entertain.

You both found out when you first met him in your jujutsu uniform, and he saw the badge that you had. It was a shocking sight to see, but Choso had gently held your hand, calming you down once you found out he was a curse.

Now, you were meeting up with him secretly once again.

“Hello,” you giggled, your shoulders rising up and failing to keep your bubbly attitude hidden. You took your hat off, bringing your mask under your chin.

“Hello, darling,” he walked up to you, his eyes glued to your face. Stepping in front of you, he brought his free hand up to your face and tucked a hair behind your ear. “You look… as beautiful as last time,”

A sound of laughter bubbled up your throat, leaning into his hand. Choso held your hand, guiding you to the usual spot you guys would sit in that faced the moonlight. Ever since finding out about the opportunity of meeting you secretly, Choso had cleaned up a spot that the moonlight focused on, adding a carpet there and occasionally, candles. It was a spot where you two could lean against the wall, cuddling each other and forgetting the world really existed.

“A movie?” Choso asked softly.

“Yeah! I watched one with a friend today!”

Choso laughed, watching as you used your whole body to reenact the scenes and the story–he thought it was enchanting

“You think… we could watch a movie someday?” he asked sincerely, his gaze on you.

You sighed, squeezing his hand softly and leaning back onto him. “...Someday, Choso.” “You think that day will come?” He whispered, his tone vulnerable.

“One day, Choso. I’ll take you everywhere–the park, the mall, amusement parks–oh! We could go to festivals! Tokyo holds them all the time,” you chuckled, hoping to shift his mood into a more cheerful one. Your smile only got wider when you saw his cheeks rising at the grin painted across his face.

“And our wedding?” He teased, bringing your hand up and kissing the back of it.

“I already have plans,” you nuzzled your nose against his, a second of silence passing before you guys erupted in laughter.

It was an endearing sight. You two laughing at each other's shenanigans, acting like you were two highschoolers on a date–nothing else mattered.

Time eventually caught up, and it was time to leave. 

“Next week, same time?” He asked, his voice hopeful even though he already knew your answer.

“Always.”

~~~

“You want me to… what?”

Yaga raised an eyebrow at your question, putting his clipboard down and looking at you.

“We can’t afford to keep any Cursed Womb alive. Choso Kamo is a liability, and for all we know, he could be getting even stronger as we speak.”

Clenching your fists, your chest rose up and down in an uneven pattern, and sweat was prickling at the sides of your head.

“But the others are dead? How powerful is Choso alone–,”

“His powers are much stronger due to his cursed energy. There’s no doubt that he’d be giving you guys a hard time on your missions, and we aren’t going to risk it.” His answer was so certain, so sure that you shook. You shook, because none of it was sinking in. Every atom of your body denied it–Choso dying? Because of you?

Yaga noticed your silence, and he sighed. Grabbing his clipboard again and standing up, he spoke.

“If you think the mission’s too much for you, then I can assign it to another student.”

Your head snapped up at him. No–no one else could kill him. No one else should kill Choso–Choso shouldn’t even be killed! Choso was human–you know it. You’d know all of it. How he made you feel more human than the jujutsu society ever had, that he’d shared your feelings and troubles and love and affection–

But, if you didn’t take it, then someone else would. If you didn’t kill him, he’d die anyway. If he didn’t die by your hands… someone’s bound to give him a painful death. Someone else is going to cause him harm in his last moments. And you’d miss it all.

The thought of it made your head throb. Your pulse raced enough for you to hear it in your ears. You were anxious about him getting hurt–being shown no mercy before his death when it was all he deserved. Mercy. 

“I… I’ll take it.”

This way, you can ensure he has a quick, painless death.

Yaga hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Very well then, the deadline is next week.”

~~~

This mission was easy. Physically. And you hated it. You hated it because it was as easy as depending on your love for each other to meet with him and only take advantage of it. You came here early this time, wanting to be the first one to see Choso… and the last time you would.

“Hey,” he arrived, beaming. And the sight hurt. Tonight, you had to carry his blood. A rope in your chest tightened, and your breath staggered.

“I… got you something. You like roses, right?” He revealed a rose from behind his back, holding it out to you both proudly and timidly.

Your eyes went wide. The crimson rose would soon be the color spreading throughout Choso’s fabric, because of you. Taking the rose felt like a lie. Rejecting it would betray you. Choso always did small and cute things like this. For you.

Choso noticed your intense gaze at the rose, as if you’d just seen something you shouldn’t have. Your uncharacteristic mannerisms–hands shaking, frozen in spot, completely mute–it worried him.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not usually this quiet… Did you have a rough mission?”

A rough mission? You almost scoffed, but when he brought his hand up to your cheek, you hesitated. For a split second, you almost recoiled, backed away. The gentleness of his touch would hurt too much right now. You didn’t mean to, but when your gaze flickered up to Choso’s, his anguished expression only increased your regret. 

Choso noticed the weight on your shoulders. He noticed that there was pressure on you, and you couldn’t fight against it. He knew there was something you had to say, or something you had to do… and he knew you couldn’t tell him it. With the way a lump in your throat was forming and causing you to stay silent, he speaks.

“If… there’s anything you need to say or do, do it right now, my love.”

His sweet words combined with his tender actions–it broke you. Tears finally started flooding out, and your voice hiccupped quietly in your throat. Your hesitation said everything–you were shaking, crying–you silently begged him to say something different.

But he was steady. Calm. Almost too calm. Because how could he, who was absolutely ignorant about the situation, not knowing that you were about to end his life, still be so kind as he pulled you into a hug that you so desperately needed? Choso was giving you space to choose–no, space to do it. And you knew you had to, because if you didn’t, it’d end up much worse for him. 

“Don’t–no, please–I can’t, Choso–,” you begged the world.

“My love,” he says firmly, not wavering from his point. “I trust you.”

And it felt like your breaking point. It felt like everything inside you snapped–your heart, your tears–and your muscles moved without thought.

Before you knew it, your weapon was buried deep inside of Choso’s stomach. Blood emanated from where the knife was hidden, and Choso collapsed onto you.

“No!” You caught him, his blood slowly dripping from his clothes down to your hands.

The way his eyes went wide broke your heart, and even with your sudden betrayal he was still holding onto you for dear life. How could you? How could you?

Choso still somehow found the courage to chuckle even at a time like this, while blood was dripping from the corners of his lips. “This… wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No, no! Choso!” You brought him to your chest, begging the universe to go back in time–you’d refuse the mission, refuse to end Choso and run away with him instead–so why’d that only occur now? When he was slowly losing life right in front of you?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” your tears mixed with the blood that was staining his clothes, yet the knife was still in him. Your betrayal was still in him. And it slowly spilled throughout his body–yet his love was still greater.

‘Hey, hey, my love. Listen to me–,”

“No, I’m so sorry–I shouldn’t have done this–I should’ve just–,”

“Y/N.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him through tears. How was he comforting you? When you ended his life? He had dreams, struggles, passions, and someone he loved.

“Yes…?” You whispered, your eyes closing the moment his hand gently brushed your cheek.

“Don’t let them paint you the monster, my love,” he smiled–the one you loved. “I know you chose to save me one last time. I would’ve chosen you out of everyone else to be the one to end me.”

But you were a monster. But you were someone who deserves nothing of his gentle love. Someone who was deemed a murderer–yet all he gave in his last moments was gentle love.

“I love you, my love,” he smiled. “Say it back one last time, yeah?”

You tried your best to scoff, trying to match his eerily lighthearted mood as you kissed his forehead. “I love you too, Choso.”

The two of you closed your eyes, pressing your foreheads together–in hopes for you to give him the life he deserves and the one you don’t. When you felt his hand slip from your cheek, you quickly caught it and tried to savour the last bits of warmth in it, convincing yourself he was just unconscious. You felt the smear of cold blood from the wind–only to remind you that it was his blood.

You were broken. You felt nothing but misery. The air you were breathing, the eyes that you were using to cry tears you felt like you didn’t deserve to let out, how your muscles contracted as you sobbed–it should’ve belonged to Choso. The Choso who never had the chance to live out any of his dreams. The Choso who never had the privileges you had growing up–it should’ve belonged to him. Not you. You felt like you should’ve been the one to take the dagger instead, and even then–you’d still paint yourself the monster. Because now, that’s all you saw of yourself.

a/n

oookay i kNOWWW this was kinda fast paced but i try my best to keep this series under 2k words sooooo it kinda ended up that way... i wish i couldve expanded more on this but oh! well! too! bad! (sobbing) ANYWAYS thisssss lowkey hurt me–i dealt with what felt like ages and ages of writers block and had to force this out of my system and somehow was able to produce something decently satisfying in the end soooo i hope i broke yall :)

(imma be honest w yall tho the original ending was to make the reader end herself in the end too but i thought maybe that’s too much…)

hope you all enjoyed *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: !!! - ying ☆

valentines with choso <3

wc: 1.5k (i yapped too hard)

cw: kms exaggeration/joke

Choso knew he liked you the moment you walked into class.

He knew he was in love with you the moment you sat beside him. Asked for his name. Got his number. All of that.

Seriously, when was the last time a girl he knew from no where asked him for stuff like this? And a pretty one at that?

He couldn’t help but have you in his mind from time to time. 

And you couldn’t either.

He was, objectively, cute. You loved his hairstyle instantly when you saw it. Spacebuns?! In a university class? Sign me up. 

You soon began loving more parts of him the more time you spent with him. The tattoo on the bridge of his nose? The rough eyebags? You hoped he didn’t catch you staring all the time, because holy this man was hot.

You were intrigued. You wanted to know more about him, so you talked to him.

Was it a talking stage? Or did he think of you guys as just friends? Is it normal to be enjoying someone’s company this much? 

You both had your own friends, and your own social circles. But as you and Choso grew closer, they slowly realized what was going on.

His friends were jealous that he got a girl before them, no matter how many times Choso tried to insist you guys weren’t dating. Your friends were ecstatic over the fact that you finally tried seeking a relationship, no matter how many times you said you guys were “just friends.”

But the teasing of your friends didn’t drive you guys apart. It didn’t make you guys be embarrassed to hang out with the other. It might of even made you like each other more.

So when the chill of fall slowly turned into the biting cold of winter, you found yourself coming over and hanging out at his place a lot, and the same vice versa. 

Watching movies, laughing together. On one occasion, you did Choso’s unique hairstyle for him and you put little stickers and hairclips on him. The picture of him in the cute little get up was secretly your home screen wallpaper. It was too cute, him wearing a scrunched up expression because of the tackiness of the accessories. 

Your friends say that you’re dumb as hell.

His friends say that he’s an idiot.

Just about anyone could see the romantic tension between you two, yet neither you nor Choso would admit it out loud to each other. Left to pine in “secret”. 

₊˚⊹♡

Soon enough, February 14th was getting a little too close, and you were panicking if you should ask Choso out.

That was basically a confession. And you didn’t want to make the first step. What if he thought of you guys as only friends? What if the teasing from his friends were just a joke? 

You spent a lot of the time in your day overthinking. Choso saw during the classes you had together, you always seemed preoccupied with something in your head, and never really looking at him directly in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

Now he was overthinking. Did you not like him anymore?

The class was spent with you two together in silence, staring into the polished wood of the desk, lost in your own thoughts.

Thursday, February 13th felt like you had the most pressure in your life. It felt more than just 4 assignments all due on the same day. It felt more than two tests back to back that you didn’t study for.

You decided that you were going to ask him out. You were going to be brave, say “Do you want to be my valentine?” on text, then power off your phone and bury yourself alive.

A great plan. Foolproof, maybe. 

But what would you do after? If he said yes, you didn’t even have any chocolates or teddy bears to give, and now you just seem like a total loser and a leech. 

But what if he said no? Now, you just lost a valuable friendship and someone who made going through each day just a little easier.

You flopped down onto your bed. It was so tiring, thinking and planning and worrying. 

Yes, you needed to think this through. But now, you should just go to sleep and be indecisive in the morning, and not late at night. That was way more doable than asking someone out.

Choso, on the other hand, was in the same predicament as you.

Same “What if?’s”, same “But’s ” were also plaguing Choso’s brain. But Choso was more prepared. He already had his chocolates, with the same brand you loved. He had his small plushie, which was your favorite animal. It was annoying to get them, as he needed to hide them from his peeking friends and, of course, you.

Yet, he had no plan on how to present them to you, and how to even ask you. Would he just go blunt? No, that will make it seem like he put zero effort into it and just wanted someone with him on Valentines Day. A long, heartfelt message would be too tacky, but it would certainly be romantic, only if you returned the feelings. It would be awfully embarrassing if you didn’t like him in the first place.

He covered his face in his hands. Seriously, why did it have to be so hard?

He should man up, for gods sake. Just ask you and get on with his day, whether or not you said no or yes. Rejection is something everybody should experience. 

But he couldn’t take rejection, especially not from you. He didn’t want to take the risk of losing the friendship that was so precious to both of you guys.

But he bought the chocolates. And he already liked you for about 5 months.

It was now or never.

₊˚⊹♡

Choso was about to kill himself. 

Sorry, exaggeration. He was about to bash his head against the wall.

He sent the text. Dear God, why did he send that? And why did he let it just stay? Why didn’t he just unsend it right away? 

Was it for the hopes that you would actually get to see it? 

Well, now it was too late to go back. The text message is forever engraved into the data of his phone and yours. 

Stupid, stupid text message. Did his fingers have to hit send?

It was supposed to be him practicing sending that. Type out the message, then delete it. Paraphrase his sentences before actually sending it. 

There was no possible way he sent a text message that looked that desperate.

Choso slouched onto his bed and groaned, throwing his phone across his desk.

It had already been 15 minutes. That dragged into another hour. Then two hours. Then it was almost midnight and you still haven’t even opened the message yet.

Choso was panicking internally. You would’ve checked your messages at least once during the four hours that had passed. 

Have you already read the message by looking at the notification? Were you so disgusted by the fact he asked you out that you completely neglected to respond?

His hands were in his hair, pulling at the shoulder-length strands. 

Seriously, how much of a dumbass did he have to be?

He couldn’t sleep much that night. He was half awake, overthinking and looking over to see if his phone screen had lit up. But it was always just a random notification, coming from an app Choso barely used anymore. He sighed and turned his phone off, spending the rest of the night not catching a wink of sleep.

₊˚⊹♡

Luckily for you, he asked first.

And luckily for him, you agreed.

You only saw his message in the morning of Valentines. Of course, you immediately replied yes, saving Choso from spending another sleepless hour after seeing his message get left on delivered.

The few seconds after replying to that message felt a little unreal. You collapsed onto your bed, unable to stop smiling. 

You did it.

You were going on a date with one of the best people you knew. The one you not-so silently chased all these months.

Life was perfect right now. You didn’t want anything to change, not after this one.

₊˚⊹♡

Six PM. Friday. 

To say you were excited wouldn’t be accurate.

Actually, it was more of a jittery nervousness. 

You wondered why, actually. Why were you nervous meeting up with a guy you were friends with for almost this whole year?

He opened the door before you could finish gathering your thoughts. 

You looked up. 

Perfect.

He was perfect, just like how you saw him your first class the day you met. Perfect, with his signature hairstyle, never once changing it. He looked the same as if this was just a regular hangout you guys had almost everyday.

As if it’s anything like that.

You greeted him nervously and stepped inside.

He returned the favor, looking just as bit as awkward as you felt. 

Shit, what if confessing to you made you guys as awkward as strangers now? 

But it didn’t.

The rest of the night went smoothly with him. The one you were half-chasing since the start of the school year. 

You couldn’t be anymore happier. 

And Choso couldn’t either.

a/n

happy valentines day guys!!

got lazy writing the last part

and it got way too long so i had to delete some parts of it

thx for reading sigmas!

dividers by @.enchanthings-a @.saradika-graphics

ch.2- he's so perfect, blah blah blah

You blinked into a familiar ceiling. Where have you last seen this?

The morning light shone through the window, penetrating through the blinds. Its pattern left a soft glow of illumination into the room. It took your eyes a few seconds to finally understand: This was Choso’s apartment, and you were in his guest room. 

How did that happen?

Breathing in a deep breath, you feel that your throat is unusually dry, and your face feels a little sticky. You clear your throat as you slowly sit up, your aching muscles straining to support your weight. When you got up, a headache out of nowhere hit you like a truck.

Pulsing in relentless waves, it attacked your head over and over again, never once settling down. Hands shooting up to your temples, you try to massage your head, and ease the throbbing pain. 

Headache, dry throat, and the sorest muscles ever. Yeah, you definitely got drunk last night. 

Moving your legs off the bed and groaning, you head towards the washroom to try to clean yourself up. You washed your face with hot water, which helped soothing the headache a bit more. You could only wash your face as there wasn't a toothbrush or anything for you to use, so to satisfy your other need, you went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

As you were filling up the glass, you heard some small footsteps, and the creak of a door. Yuji had woken up, and was also going to the bathroom to do his routine. When he opened his door, he saw you in the kitchen. You two exchange a glance while Yuji rubs his eyes to make sure he still isn’t dreaming. 

“Ohh!! It’s you!! My brother’s girl friend!!” Yuji exclaimed, a smile on his face.

“Good morning Yuji,” you reply. “Although, I wouldn’t say girl-friend.” you add nervously while taking a sip of the water.

Yuji, having completely moved on from the topic, asked, “Why are you here in the morning? Aren’t you supposed to be at your house?” 

You took a second to conteplate how to explain to a 9 year old how badly drunk you got last night that his older brother needed to pick you up.

“Uhh, Choso did me a really good favor and picked me up from a place when I couldn’t drive.” you lie, convincing the nine year old. 

“Oh, okay.” Yuji said, accepting the explaination and going on about his morning. You sigh and drink from the glass again. You saw on the couch your phone, wallet, and other neccesities. You walked over to collect them, assuming Choso just put your things on the couch for you.

He’s so nice, you think to yourself, thankful for the little extra he always does for everybody.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through your messages and drinking water at the same time, Choso comes out of his room and sees you already up. 

“Hey, sleep well?” Choso asked when he saw you sitting on the couch. He was still nervous on how to correctly approach you after last night, so he decided he’ll just play it off as nothing and be “nonchalant” about it. 

“Yup!” you replied, smiling. Your brows furrowed a little, still battling the headache.  “Thanks for driving me back too, Cho. Really really appreciate it.” 

“Eh, it was nothing, no big deal,” Choso replied, still being cautious on what he said. He looked at your slightly pained expression, and he thinks that you remembered what happened last night. Oh god- Would it be awkward just talking now? 

“So..uhh..” Choso mumbled. “Are you feeling better now?”

You thought he was mentioning how drunk you were, but he was really trying to ask you about the scene last night. 

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better now, I just have a huge headache though,” you sighed.

That wasn’t what I meant. He thought. As in your mood. But he didn’t want to bring it up- what if he was bringing back bad memories? He didn’t want to do that to you. Choso decided it would be worth it to just not mention last night at all and will only elaborate if you brought it up.

But you never did bring it up, being convinced to eat breakfast with him and Yuji.

The whole time, he was scanning your face and expressions to see if you had really forgotten or some part of you still hurt, but you were just hiding it.

Why would you need to hide it in front of me though? Choso thought. 

As you ate a simple breakfast- Toast with butter, you were a little lost in thought, trying to piece together a timeline. Weirdly, you feel like you’ve forgotten something that should be mentioned sometime around… someone… you just couldn’t figure out who.

First, that guy did break up with you. Piece of shit, really. Were you over it? A little, now. Better than yesterday, at least, when you decided just to drink it all away at a bar. Then, you have a vague recollection of texting someone, which you found out to be Choso this morning, and then passing out. 

Sitting there, thinking to yourself, you didn’t notice the person across from you staring at a face he found pretty for a long time. Choso thought you were playing it off as trying not to be a bother- and he was trying to form a plan to talk about it with you a little more. Hesitantly, he tries to start a conversation about the topic.

“Um… about last night…” he murmured unsurely. He looks down, to the side, at your plate, the fork you’re holding, anything but your face. You tilt your head sideways to signify that you’re listening. In your head, you were freaking out a little bit. Did you do something wrong? Did you do something embarrasing? How bad was it that he needed to confront to you about it?

You spoke up before he coud continue. “Oh- oh my god. If it’s anything I did, then I’m so so sorry for it!” you said, sitting up a little straighter.

Choso was lost. He looked at your genuinely clueless expression to confirm is theory.

You had genuinely forgot.

Alarmed by his sudden silence, you tried to clarify once more. “Really! I don’t remember a single thing! What did I do?” you exclaimed, honestly defending yourself. You put your hands up in the air as a gesture of surrender.

Choso, having snapped out from his momentary shock, tried to clear the air again. “Relax, you didn’t do anything…I’m just surprised you forgot, that’s all.” he said. 

He knew you didn’t believe his explaination, but you didn’t question further, which was all he needed to sit down and think about how to approach this. 

Still feeling ashamed, you quickly ate your breakfast and left his apartment in an attempt to avoid staying too long. Before you finish chewing, you get up and say, in a muffled tone, that you're going home. Then you go to the couch and gather your belongings. When you mutter "sorry" to him and Yuji, Choso nods in response and hands you your jacket. You closed the front door after putting on your shoes and shouting "Bye," your cheeks still flushed from the awkwardness.

Choso was still standing in the doorway, surprised on how fast you left. He should say sorry for embarrasing you, he thought. He felt a small nudge on his leg. He looked down as Yuji looked up at Choso and bluntly said, “She’s pretty. Why is she not your girl friend?” in little brother astonishment. Choso’s face reddended as he picked up Yuji and mubmled “That’s enough bro, thanks for your input.” Yuji giggled on Choso’s shoulder, kicking his legs and smiling. He smiled back. All he ever loved was you and Yuji. He wasn’t sure how, but he’ll get through with you one day. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Two weeks later, you had found another date to look forward to, getting over the last one pretty quickly, even if it hurt more than the others. This time, it was someone who looked promising. His name was Toji- someone who you met at online. You were a bit wary of him though, since he seemed like the type to abandon his own son and sell him to a clan who wants to kill him, but you weren’t too sure. That was what first dates were for, to learn more about them, right? 

It was 5pm, and you were starting to get ready to go to the bar where you guys planned to meet up. You hummed to your favorite song playing on a speaker nearby as you did your makeup, feeling just a bit nervous about the upcoming date. Generally, people online didn’t live up to much of your standards. As you were dabbing on blush, the doorbell rang. Curiously, you weren’t expecting anyone here at this time. Putting your brush down, you speed-walked to the door, yelling “Coming!” and looking through the peephole.

To your surprise, you saw an eye staring right back at you.

You inhaled a sharp breath before yanking your eye away from the hole and taking a step back from the door. Until you heard a familiar voice.

“Yuji, stop peeking in from that side. It won’t work,” said Choso.

“But I wanted to see if she was there yet!” Yuji’s voice whined.

Breathing a sigh of relief that it was just Choso and his brother, you unlocked and opened the door, being met with Yuji’s beaming smile and Choso right there with him. 

“Gosh, Yuji! You scared me with your eye!” you said. “Why are you here at my apartment anyway?” 

Choso sighed. “Because-”

“Because the skibidi toilet live stream is happening right now!! And it said to bring a friend for double aura points!!” Yuji continued, eyes sparkling.

You blinked at him once. Twice. Aura points? What’s that? You look up to Choso, silently asking him if what Yuji said was what is actually happening, and Choso just gave it a short nod.

“Umm… sure… You can-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Yuji rushed in, laughing. He quickly turned on the TV and navigated Youtube to pull up the livestream.

You turn your attention back to Choso. He coughs a little in his hand, then explains that that livestream told everyone to bring a friend, and Yuji insisted on going to your home to watch the livestream with him. 

You felt happy that Yuji chose you to be his friend watching with him, but then again, you had to go in around thirty minutes. You looked back at Yuji and then back to Choso.

“Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay and watch the whole livestream, Choso. I’m really sorry…” you said, a pit forming in your stomach.

Choso gave you a pointed look. “Another date?” he asked. You nod slowly, feeling regret that you couldn’t stay.

Choso was silent for a few seconds. 

He can stop you now, he thought. Now was a good opportunity to stop you from ruining yourself all over again. He just needed a place where you and him could talk about it without Yuji overhearing. 

Opening his mouth, he says nervously, “Hey, can we talk somewhere?”

Curious, you followed him into your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, and asked, “So what’s up?” 

Choso stood in front of the closed door and took a deep breath.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Immediately, your reaction was a quick “Huh?”. You registered what he said- you just didn’t believe it. 

Choso paused again. “I’m serious, y/n. Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer for a second. He had his hands in his pockets, looking at the floor. His position didn’t come off as someone who was sure about what he was going to say, which made you question him even more.

“Why Choso? Do you… know this guy or anything?” you say, unsurely . “Or do you have magic powers and can tell the future?” you joke with a light smile, trying to ease the tension. 

He stayed silent for another second. “Just…don’t,” he reiterated, making you even more confused.

“Why? Should I be worried or anything?” 

Seeing him this unsure made you panic a little. You didn’t understand why he was being so secretive. Or maybe he was waiting for you to figure out the reason yourself?

“Is it because of him? Does he have a bad rep or anything I didn’t hear of?”

“No, I don’t know him. I just don’t want you to go.”

Huh? So what was his reason on why he doesn’t want you to go? Wait, was he saying that he doesn’t want you to go on the date, or he doesn’t want you to go in general, what did he mean?

“Oh, is it because of Yuji’s skibidi thing? Is that why you want me to stay?”

Choso could feel this conversation is going in the wrong direction. He needed to speak his mind- but how? 

“No, no it isn’t about that either… It’s…”

His sudden pause makes you fidgety. What did he have to tell you that was so important? You checked your phone for the time- 5:36. You needed to be going in almost ten minutes, and you still haven’t finished your makeup.

You don’t want to interupt Choso on what he wants to tell you- but what does he need to say that has to take this long for him to think about it?

“It’s what?”

He sighed. Maybe he should just tell his truth and go in blind. He saw you check your phone for the time, he knew you were getting a little impatient. He needed to be quick.

“Look, y/n. I don’t want you to go because… you need to give yourself time to heal before you move on.”

He did it. He said the words. You would have to get it now. By the end of this, you’ll get it. Maybe he’ll finally be able to stop you.

His words stunned you a bit. Heal? Move on? You already did, right? Why was he so concerned over this now? 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask. Truthfully- you knew exactly what he meant, you just needed to confirm it.

Choso hesitates. How is this the best way to put it?

“That last breakup you had, it was really rough, even for you. You know… when you called me to pick you up from the bar, and when you slept over… you sorta…” Choso sucked his teeth in. He wasn’t sure if he should be telling you this, while you were living in blissful ignorance. 

Your mind jumped to a horrible conclusion. If you had forgotten about the whole thing, of course he would feel uncomfortable with you going to meet with another person. 

“I what? Oh my god, Choso, did I do anything? I’m so, so, so sorry if you were uncomfortable, I-”

“No! No, don’t get the wrong idea.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least that didn’t happen.

Choso goes on. “It was nothing like that. Um, last time, you came to me really, really upset because of that breakup.”

You thought about his words. It should ring a bell, right? How could you forget about something like that? 

What did you even say though? You had completely forgot about the thing. No recollection at all.

“Choso, I think I completely forgot about that.”

He looks up at you. “I know you did. But I really think it should be unhealthy for you to move on so quickly.”

His words echo in your head. Honestly, they had a truth to it. 

On the second hand, why was he being so protective now?

“Choso, I think I get where you’re coming from, but I still need to go, you know.” You checked the time on your phone again. 5:38. You really, really had to be hurrying up now.

Yuji’s voice called from the living room. “Are you going to watch with me?”

Choso looked back at the door. He didn’t want to leave his little brother hanging, but he didn’t want to leave you again. 

You decided for him.

“I’m sorry Choso, I really am. How about I go on this date and see? Then we’ll talk about it more?”

You were definitely trying your best to compromise, get rid of the conversation, and get out as fast as you can, but Choso had other plans. 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “You need to stay in and let yourself rest.”

Your impatience was really getting a hold of you now. Why was he so insistent? Why couldn’t he just let you go? Was it really a big deal? 

Does he need to do this now? Right now? 

“Choso, I’m fine. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“No.”

You clench your fists a little. You really shouldn’t be wasting time like this. 

“Choso, please. Why are you being so stingy about this? Since when did you start caring?”

“Since you texted me drunk and sobbed into my shoulder!”

The room was silent for a second. Did you really do that?

“I thought, after that, I would try to make and effort to not let you get yourself depressed like that ever again,” he said.

You looked at Choso in the eyes. He was staring right back into you. It all made so much more sense now. You now knew why he was trying to stop you.

But you can’t just bail out like this.

“Choso, I appreciate it. I really do. But please, I need to go to this one. It’s too late to cancel now. I’ll look like a bitch doing so.”

He was about to lose you. He didn’t want to wait another time to stop you. He had you now, why give up? He needed to say something, anything. Anything to give as an excuse. 

He grabs your wrist.

“Y/n…”

“Choso, I actually-”

“Y/n. I don’t want you to go because I love you.”

.

.

.

What?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

a/n

whats up guys?! welcome to the fic that i thought was a good idea then it wasn't.

hopefully i will finish this though.

why did it take so long?

deco*27 monitoring reference yuji itadori?

originally y/n was gonna blow tf up and be a whole bitch then it felt weird so i had to rewrite the entire last part

when the plot is swiss cheesing.

or am i just reading into this too much?

hello brain rot yuji i love you with all my heart

thank you for reading <3

dividers by @.enchanthings @.adornedwithlight

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ch.1- don't you dare look at me that way

One shot after the other.

The alcohol leaves a tinge on your throat every time you gulp one down.

A good tinge, maybe. The burn was necessary.

Later, that would go away too. Maybe your feelings could be drowned with them.

You would keep on going until the tears you kept in couldn't be held back anymore.

Another shot. And the other. One more. 

Like a thirsty, dehydrated man finally having the chance to gulp down water.

Couldn’t think- only drink.

Rational thoughts had to be kept at bay. Words in your head couldn’t do- not right now. 

Would you swallow and gulp down your emotions only to have them come back up another time?

Ordering more and more shots until the bartender had to stop serving you.

His words didn’t go through your head, but you could guess.

Sighing and coughing, tears welled up in your eyes.

All you wanted to do was to melt in a puddle and never wake up ever again.

For someone to find you and cup you in their hands and try not to let the water spill through their fingers.

But of course you couldn’t have that—it was your fault again. Again. Was it always your fault now?

Every single relationship, every broken promise, every little chance, all gone. Has it been your fault all this time?

You put your head in your hands and leaned onto the table. You couldn’t stay here in this state mentally now. You needed to go. But who would pick you up?

You racked your mind to try to find somebody who would come over and drive you back, yet you couldn’t think of any, the alcohol interfering with much of your thought process.

Giving up on your memory, you scrolled through your phone contacts to check.

C- CHOSO KAMO

Oh… it’s him… was he the one who broke up with you? You couldn't remember, but you knew you could trust him at your most vulnerable point.

You opened the message chat. 

Relieved that he agreed, you turned your phone off and let your head rest onto the bar table. What you needed to do now was to enjoy the sweet feeling of the alcohol warming your chest and... and...

-

When you woke up, you first didn’t know where you were. As you looked around the dark place, you realized that this was Choso’s living room, and he laid you onto his couch. Feeling grateful that he went through with his promise, you stood up and headed into his kitchen to get a glass of water.

You peeked at the oven clock, 1:43 AM. 

You were asleep for… How long? Maybe three hours? 

Filing through his cabinets, you were thinking about how unfamiliar yet familiar your surroundings were. Having spent so much time here, you were still trying to find where he kept the glasses. Finally having found it, you grabbed one and slowly filled it with water. After filling up two glasses and downing them, you turned off the tap and set the glass down. 

The headache was still there—just not as intense. You headed back to the couch you woke up on and lay down. 

The more time you had doing nothing, the more time you had to think, but you didn’t want to think. It would all circle back to him—the one who ripped your heart out. You feel like it shouldn’t be hard—you feel like it shouldn’t hurt you this much. You’ve been through bad breakups all the time. So why did this one hurt the most?

Was it because you genuinely thought this would go somewhere?

Or were you just hopelessly in love again?

Again, your tears swelled up in your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this forever.

Muffling your cries with a pillow, you turn over on the couch and try to go back to sleep.

But he heard you. Stepping out his bedroom door, Choso pokes his head outside to check the living room. Seeing that you were still awake, he quietly went up to you and tapped you gently on the shoulder.

Startled by his touch, you hiccup and turn around to face Choso with an understanding look. 

Seeing him turned the quiet sobs into loud wails. Finally having someone to rant to, you grabbed onto his sleeve to hold onto him, to know that you wanted him to stay.

He sits down on the couch beside you and offers his shoulder.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Choso couldn’t understand why. 

Why would you always torture yourself like this?

Here you were, crying again on his shoulder after a particularly nasty breakup you had with your nth boyfriend already.

Why couldn’t you just realize that you could end all of this misery just by being with him?

Choso reels back at the thought. He didn’t want to seem obnoxious, thinking that he’s the only good one for you. You’re allowed to live your own life; he didn’t want to control what he felt was the most intimate part of a person’s journey.

He saw you grow up, right alongside him. He saw your old habits, your new ones, and the same laugh he’d loved for what seemed like eons now. 

How your love for drawing when you were young turned into learning how to animate when you were older, how your natural talent in science turned into a major in biochemistry. How your teasing nature turned into the “magical ability to attract losers left and right,” 

But he loved it. He loved every bit of you. Yet, after all these years, he still couldn’t find the words, and he still couldn’t find the courage. So he ends up being forced to watch you pick up a new guy every month, and either you drop them or they drop you. He knows you try to play it off as nothing, but he can see that each breakup really affects your mental health, even if just a bit. You would always just brush it off, “It’s no big deal,” you would say, and it truthfully wasn’t. But it didn’t stop Choso from getting increasingly more worried every broken relationship he watches you get into. A never-ending cycle that just leaves Choso heartbroken every time he sees your heart get broken. He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a twinge of jealousy every time he saw a new guy come over, have drinks, or even sneak off into your room doing god knows what. Each day, he kept himself sane knowing that (or at this point, praying) that it’s going to end in a week or two, that it’s never going to last, and he shouldn’t get too riled up over it.

Yet each time he sees your eyes, genuinely in love, only to be broken and empty by the end of the week, he swears he’ll stop you the next time. He swears he’ll do something to stop your heartbreak. 

Now, you were here, crying over your most recent breakup. He sits there, offering comforting pats to your arm as he wonders where you ever get the strength to bounce back so quickly. 

But he wants it to stop. Not for his sake anymore, but for yours now. 

“Hey, it’s fine; there’s no need to cry anymore,” he whispers, trying to soothe your mood. “He was a complete jerk anyway; it’s going to be alright.” 

You sniffle loudly as you tilt your head to look up at him, only to find a pair of soft eyes looking right back at you. A thought flashes through your mind that only makes you want to sob harder. 

Nobody ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me right now. 

Your past boyfriends never did. Why did you even bother with them again? Ugh, it’s all coming down again, and you have nothing better to do than just wail harder and harder into his shoulder.

“Everything’s gonna be okay… let it all out...” you hear him say. Oh, how much you appreciated him so much for moments like these. His assuring presence always grounds you, no matter how messed up you were now. You loved how he was always there for you. But did you really love him, or his actions? Aren’t you simply just benefiting off of his kindness now?

The night continued as your sniffles finally started to slow down, and your energy finally began to run out, leading you to fall right asleep on his bed. 

Choso didn’t mind. He took some extra blankets and covered your snoozing figure and went to sleep in the guest room, making sure to check that Yuji was asleep and wasn’t woken up. 

As he climbed into the bed, Choso sighed, thinking again about how unfair it was for you to get treated like this all the time. Yet, it was still your life. He didn’t want to interfere or appear too stuck up. He would bide his time. Keep reaching out his hand.

series m.list

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taglist- open!

dividers by @.enchanthings @.adornedwithlight

ᥙᥒrᥱ𝗊ᥙі𝗍ᥱძ, 𝗍ᥱrrі𝖿ᥡіᥒg.

choso has watched you jump from boyfriend to boyfriend, and always noticed that after each one you.. lost yourself a little. having his heart ache for you since childhood, he's determined to make you stop... but reveals his own feelings in the middle.

series m.list

sfw! - angst + fluff

ch.1 - dont you dare look at me that way

ch.2 - he's so perfect, blah blah blah

ch.3 - an arrow through my heart

ch.4 - at least just let me say

ch.5- don't you feel it too?

ch.6- confess i loved you from the start

-epilogue-

m.list dividers by @.enchanthings-a

-> based on the song "from the start" by laufey!

taglist: open!

all works belong to me. do not reupload or translate without permission.

whatthufcuk shO CUTTEE CHOSO BIGSPOON CHOSO BIG SPOON CHOSO BIGSPOON!!!!!

it's a garden life

choso kamo x reader (college au, no curses)

a/n: wrote a lil fluffy domestic choso fic! can't believe i haven't written for choso yet i love him sososososo much he's so cute :3 in my dreams i live in a cute apartment with him. also in my head he studies psych and bio at uni idk why it just makes sense in my head but this isn't relvevant to the plot don't worry this lowkey has no plot LOL

word count: 782 masterlist

contains: established relationship, no curses au, college au, gender neutral reader, choso's style is implied to be alt, choso is cute (as always), kissing, cuddling, reader wears his clothes, choso calls r "baby", idk what else

you love Thursdays, purely for the fact that you never have any classes. it's like a mini mid-week weekend, a break for which you're often very grateful. however, on this particular Thursday, you're kind of bored. not that you didn't have things you could do, but because you'd usually have a lie in with your boyfriend, choso, since he didn't have classes until the afternoon. well, except for today, because he had both morning and afternoon classes, which meant it had just been you in your shared apartment for most of the day. and although he'd smothered you with kisses like he always did before he left, it was hard not to miss his presence.

you'd spent your day doing nothing in particular, just finishing small tasks and completing anything you hadn't yet finished for whichever classes you had the next day. now, it was nearing early evening, and you were lying on the sofa wearing one of choso's many oversized hoodies, half watching reruns of a random sitcom, half wondering when choso would come back. as a myriad of thoughts swirled through your mind, you hear the door click and creak slightly as it opens, the sound making you jump.

"hi baby!" choso calls out brightly from the front door. you can almost perfectly envision his everything he does as he does it - the way he takes his chunky boots off, hangs his jacket up, unties his hair and puts his hair ties on the small table in the hallway. reinvigorated, you leap up, running towards the front door, half sliding through the hallway thanks to your fluffy socks.

"cho!" you exclaim, practically jumping into his arms as you greet him in the corridor, only metres from the front door. he squeezes you, holding you tight. "you're back early?" you question, tangling your fingers in the long, soft strands of his hair as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. he laughs warmly, and the sound vibrates, washing over you like the comfort of a weighted blanket.

"i missed you. so i found a way to leave class early." he says honestly, slipping his hand into yours.

you laugh. "as much as i love that you did that, please tell me you didn't get into any trouble." you say, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"no, i, uh... i told the professor i was ill. i'm surprised he bought it, to be honest." he says, slight embarrassment flashing across his face for a moment. he looks down, his cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pale pink. it's certainly not the worst thing in the world, but choso's never done something like that, and he feels a little silly about it until you push the thoughts out of his mind with a kiss.

he kisses you back softly, trailing one hand to your waist while the other finds yours, and he swears he can feel all of his worries melt away from the feeling of your lips on his. he backs you into the wall, sliding his hand up from your waist to rest behind your head to ensure you don't hurt yourself. your heart swells at the gesture, and you grip his hand a little tighter before pulling away. you're met with the sight of choso breathing heavily, lips a little redder than before as he smiles at you, starry-eyed.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "i'm going to change, then i'll join you in the living room, yeah?" he asks, and you nod in confirmation. you peck his cheek, and he smiles before heading off into the bedroom. meanwhile, you reassume your position on the sofa, grabbing choso's favourite blanket before sinking into the pillows. as you flick through the channels to find some kind of background noise, eventually settling on a rerun of the same sitcom as before, choso enters the room clad in some dark grey sweatpants and an old baggy band t-shirt. you make a mental note to yourself to steal that from him at some point.

choso flops down on the sofa, half smothering you in the best way. you laugh as he wriggles around, trying to reposition himself. eventually, he takes what one could only describe as his rightful place, as the big spoon. he makes sure the blanket is over both of you before he slides his arms around you and pulls you in against his body, nuzzling his head into your neck.

"i don't wanna move. ever." he murmurs, wrapping his legs around you, clinging to you like a koala.

"who says we have to?" you say, half rhetorically.

so you don't. why would you want to, anyways?

he loves babies <3

bro idk how to make people on twitter see my posts, it’s literally the only app that hasn’t worked for me at all 😭😭😭

my twitter link is in my bio if you guys wanna follow me there BSND I think I have a couple nsfw posts

"Thirty More Minutes..."

a/n: this is my first drabble/fic (?) im a little scared but we ball so... hope you enjoy

p.s: the smut felt so stiff so I got rid of it T_T

“Babe.” 

“Thirty more minutes.”

And yeah, you would've been fine with ‘thirty more minutes’ if this hadn't been the fourth time Choso had said it.

You loved Choso with all your heart, but god you wished you had never bought him this new gaming setup.

At first it was nice, Choso was loving up on you more than he usually did (if that's even possible) in the first week of him receiving his gift but after that it just went…downhill.

It started off with him staying up later into the night, and then it became you waking up to him not even in your shared bed.

You were getting ticked off. You can't even remember the last time the both of you had even had a semblance to a make-out session. Nothing.

“Choso.” You said slowly but loud enough for him to hear through his headphones.

Without even looking up from his game he swiftly slid one earphone behind his ear and sat up slightly, “Huh?” He hummed out, faint clicking from his mouse could be heard as well.

“I want you to get off the game soon, please?” You said with a slight whine beginning to arise in your tone.

He cleaned his throat before mumbling something along the lines of “Be right back…” into his mic before letting out a sigh and swiveling his chair around to face you.

“M’ sorry baby, just been playing around with Satoru and the rest of them.” He mumbled before taking the opportunity to stretch in his chair with a deep groan.

Your lips quirked up slightly in the newfound attention you've received, “Come give me a kiss right quick?” You asked sweetly with a sly undertone.

He nodded in approval before getting up and leaning in, planning to give you a small peck before heading back to his game. Planning.

Before he could pull back you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss with a content moan.

Choso’s brows raised before he smiled slightly into the kiss and placed his hands on both sides of your body on the bed.

“Baby”,  kiss , “Thirty more”, kiss ,”Minutes.” He stated in between your peppered kisses.

You stubbornly shook your head and placed your hands on both sides of his jaw, “You've been saying that all day. Let me have this.” You said softly with furrowed brows.

His face softened before he let out a small laugh, “I know… but just one more ga-” Choso was cut off by your swift movement to resume your make-out session, this time sticking your tongue out and brushing it against his lips, as if you were silently asking him to open up.

He let out a muffled moan before sighing slightly and leaning into the kiss, opening his mouth and proceeding to suck on your tongue.

You let out soft moan and wrapped your arms around his neck happily, your breathing getting heavier.

He let out a quiet groan before pulling back, “Okay just -” He turned back to look back at his monitor.

“Mm…I’ll call it a night…” He murmured quietly before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and getting up.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him walk over to his pc and shutting it off; a sly grin beginning to grace your face.

Finally.

JJK S2 EP 22 SPOILERS!!

Choso & Yuji’s interactions were rlly silly this episode. They felt similar to the nonseriousness of the first season. It was a nice change in pace compared to the last few episodes.

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON YUKI’S ENTRANCE. IT WAS SO WELL DONE AND I WAS SOOOO EXCITED TO SEE HER!! SHE IS SOO BBG I LOVE HER VERYVERY MUCH.

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.

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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