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#I need to be staring at a screen at all hours of the day because if I don’t distract myself I will break down
its-avalon-08 · 2 days
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ADORE UR ANGST! Can you do a lando norris x y/n where lando is upset with y/n because she wasnt listening when he was ranting about something that happened. He feels annoyed. Y/N doesnt know why he's upset but then she realises. she tries to apoligise
can i just say i love it when y/n messes up, because writing reader groveling is my guilty pleasure <3 thanks anon
look up from your fucking phone (ln4)
✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✦ genre - alot of fighting, y/n is being annoying, angst, fluffy ending
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Lando slammed the apartment door shut, the echo bouncing off the bare walls of their new place in Monaco. He threw his helmet on the couch, the familiar orange a stark contrast to the simmering red of his mood.
"Y/N, did you see that?!" he yelled, stomping towards the kitchen.
Y/N was hunched over the counter, phone glued to her ear, a frown etched on her face. "Ugh, why won't this load?..." she trailed off, finally noticing Lando's stormy entrance.
"Didn't you see what Yuki pulled out there?!" Lando practically exploded. "That dive bomb into Turn 12? I could've been wiped out!"
Y/N finally peeled her phone away from her ear. "Yeah, I saw it. Sounds scary," she said, her voice flat. She scrolled through her phone again, a picture of a cupcake taking center screen.
Lando's anger intensified. "Scary? Y/N, it was reckless! He could've ruined both our races!" He gestured wildly with his gloved hands. "And all he gets is a five-second penalty? That's a joke!"
Y/N sighed, a sound of exasperation that sent a fresh wave of irritation through Lando. "Look, I'm sure you'll bounce back. Maybe get some revenge on him next race?" She offered a tight smile, her eyes still glued to the phone.
Lando felt a knot tighten in his chest. "That's it? No 'are you okay?' No 'that was a dirty move?'" His voice dropped to a low growl. "Don't you even care?"
Y/N finally looked up, startled. "Of course I care, Lando! I just... I had a really stressful day too, okay?" She gestured vaguely at the phone. "Work stuff."
The knot in Lando's chest unraveled, replaced by a hollow ache. "Right," he muttered, his voice devoid of its usual spark. "Work stuff is always more important than your boyfriend getting wrecked on the track, apparently."
Y/N's eyes widened. "Hey, that's not fair! I wouldn't say that." She reached out a hand, but Lando flinched away.
"Just forget it," he said, his voice tight. "I need a shower."
He stormed past her, the slam of the bathroom door echoing through the apartment. Y/N stared after him, the phone clattering to the counter with a forgotten thud. The file which had now loaded mocked her from the screen.
Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She'd been so caught up in her own problems, she hadn't realized Lando was having a terrible day. Shame washed over her as she remembered his frustrated yells, his need for support.
She jumped up, rushing to the bathroom door. "Lando, wait!" she called out, her voice laced with panic. "I'm so sorry, I was just..."
Silence.
She tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. He must've locked it. Lando, who never locked the bathroom door. A cold dread filled her.
He was mad. Really mad. And it was all her fault.
The silence stretched on for what felt like hours. Dinner, usually a time for shared laughter and stories, was a tense affair. Y/N cooked Lando's favorite pasta dish, but it sat untouched on the table, growing cold beside her untouched plate. Every time she stole a glance at the bathroom door, a knot tightened in her stomach.
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she cleared her throat. "Lando," she began tentatively, "I know you're upset, and I just wanted to say again that I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have been on the phone. I was just..."
The clatter of the bathroom door slamming shut cut her off. Lando stormed into the living room, his face a mask of fury.
"Just what?" he spat out, his voice raw with emotion. "Just another bad day at work for you? Don't you get it, Y/N? Today was a nightmare! Yuki nearly took me out, the car felt off the entire race, and to top it all off, the media keeps hounding me about missing out on the podium."
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "And you," he pointed a finger at her, his voice cracking, "you weren't even there for me. You were too busy with your stupid phone to even see how much I was fucking hurting."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "Lando, I-"
He cut her off again, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability that ripped at her heartstrings. "No, Y/N! You don't get to talk now. I had the worst fucking day of my life, and your sorry does. not. fix. that. You listening to me, maybe even caring, might have. But you weren't there. And frankly, right now, I don't even know if you care at all."
He stormed past her, grabbing his helmet from the couch. "I'm going for a drive. Don't wait up." The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, leaving Y/N standing alone in the cold, sterile silence. Tears streamed down her face, a silent apology echoing in the empty room. She had messed up, badly. And now, she had to find a way to fix it, even if it meant facing Lando's anger and rebuilding the trust she had so carelessly shattered.
Lando's car tore down the familiar winding roads, the roar of the engine a poor substitute for the roar of frustration in his chest. Tears, hot and angry, blurred his vision as he navigated the steep climb towards his favorite spot - the very same hill where he'd asked Y/N to be his girlfriend.
"Stupid phone. Stupid fucking Yuki. Stupid me," he muttered under his breath, slamming the car into park with more force than necessary. He stormed out, the cool night air doing little to quell the fire burning inside him.
He reached the familiar crest of the hill, the city lights twinkling like scattered diamonds below. It was supposed to be a place of peace, a place where he could clear his head. But tonight, it was a stark reminder of everything he'd lost.
"Why couldn't you have listened to me Y/N," he growled, the words catching in his throat. He sat down on the familiar patch of grass, burying his head in his hands. A choked sob escaped his lips, the sound harsh and raw in the quiet night.
Suddenly, a soft voice broke through his despair. "Lando?"
He looked up, startled, to see Y/N standing hesitantly before him. She was holding a basket overflowing with snacks, drinks, and a familiar fluffy blanket. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face etched with worry and regret.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice hoarse. His anger hadn't quite subsided, but it was overshadowed by a wave of surprise.
"I followed you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She set the basket down beside him cautiously, the woven handles creaking softly. "I know you needed some space, but I couldn't just stay there. I had to try and fix this."
Lando hesitated, then gestured towards the spot beside him. Y/N sat down, her gaze fixed on the glittering cityscape. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, Y/N reached out, placing a hand tentatively on his arm.
"Lando, I'm so, so sorry. There's no excuse for my behavior today. You were having a terrible day, and I completely ignored you. It was selfish and insensitive, and I hurt you. And for that, I am truly sorry."
Lando flinched, a tear rolling down his cheek. He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and longing. "I just... I needed you, Y/N. Today was one of those days when everything felt like it was going wrong. And all I wanted was for you to be there for me, to listen, to just be you."
Y/N's hand tightened on his arm. "I understand now. And believe me, I was there in spirit. Every time you yelled, every time you slammed the door, it broke my heart a little more. But I was so caught up in my own problems, I didn't even see how much you were hurting."
She squeezed his arm gently. "Please, Lando. Let me try to make it up to you. Let's stay here, talk, share some snacks." She gestured towards the basket with a small, hopeful smile. "Maybe then we can face tomorrow together."
Lando looked from her hopeful face to the inviting spread in the basket. A flicker of his old smile played on his lips. He sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Alright, Y/N. Snacks and talking it out sound pretty good right now."
As they settled under the blanket, the city lights twinkling around them, they began to talk. Lando poured out his frustrations about the race, Yuki, and the media. Y/N listened intently, offering words of encouragement and understanding. They reminisced about better races, laughed at silly inside jokes, and slowly, the rift between them began to heal.
The drive home was filled with a comfortable silence, a silent promise to communicate better in the future. As Lando pulled into their driveway, he turned to Y/N, a genuine smile warming his face.
"Thanks for coming after me, Y/N." He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. "I love you."
Y/N smiled back, her heart overflowing with relief. "I love you too, Lando. And next time, I'm chucking the phone into the bin."
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catiuskaa · 23 hours
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spots on.
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SUMMARY: you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.
REQUESTED! by lovely annonie right here. and god you are so right, fluff + hannie is a clinical need, dare I say biblical! ㅠㅠ<3
CW: you might need a dentist appointment for this one. teeth rotting stuff. i assure you.
WC: 1.1k
A/N: so i’m back from the dead and haven’t written anything since february’s special and have been real low lately. thought fluffy hannie could cheer all of us up! <3
[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]
Han loved watching romantic movies by himself.
It’s not like he didn’t have anyone to watch them with. He had watched plenty of shows either with you or any of the boys.
But ever since he started writing and composing lyrics, a little before he got into college, there was something about those cheesy series that had him unable to stop watching.
His eyes would glow as he stared at the screen before him while he watched, invested in how the protagonist accidentally tripped and fell against the love interest, all over again. Giggling and kicking his feet when they held hands after hours upon hours straight of watching them bicker. Having his chest tightening because the actors were so good that he could almost feel the stars in his eyes, shining just for her.
Jisung loved those old-fashioned scenes. Dancing in the rain, a silly meet cute in a book shop… countless places for one silly little emotion.
Han couldn’t see it, but he also had stars in his eyes. He blinked, feeling his eyes lightly itchy, realizing he had been watching you sleep.
Not in a creepy way, of course. After all, you had wanted to stay over to finish one of the many assignments you two had to do together for some of the mandatory subjects in both of your majors. He sighed, his eyes weirdly fixated on your figure, unable to stop looking at you. Even while sleeping, there was a certain grace to you, as if you were just resting peacefully after a long day. He snorted upon realizing that your face was pressed against the pages of the book, a sneaky drop of drool coming out of your mouth. You looked so cute.
“Get a grip, Han,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a smile, giggling.
He rubbed his eyes, staring back to what he had been drafting the past hours. It was clearly obvious that his sleepiness was getting to him, because it was getting harder to decipher what the characters he was typing meant.
Suddenly, there was a hand lightly scratching your back.
You flinched in your place, sitting back up.
“It’s just me,” Han said softly. You blinked so slowly it almost looked like you had blinked one eyelid at a time.
“…awake. ‘M awake.” You brushed off drool from the corner of your mouth, to which Jisung chuckled lightly.
“Okay, sleepyhead. Time to go to bed.”
“Eh?”
“Bed, silly. We should have some sleep. We’re both doozing off.”
Bed? Judging by the time that the clock in Han’s apartment said, it was far from being that late, which was proved true when Hannie picked you up —God knows how, because he showed no signs of struggling— and brought the “sleepyhead” over to his room, that even after turning off the lamp on the bedside table, the windows let in light that the Sun had yet to take away while leaving space for the Moon to beam in a couple of hours.
He grunted lowly when he laid you down on the bed, which had little to do with your weight and much more with how you pulled him towards you.
“Hannie.” You mumbled sleepily.
“You’re close to cranky,” he smiled. “You haven’t had your coffee, and you fell asleep doing our assignment.” He sighed, moving stray hairs off your face, his hand lingering on its side, stroking your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to get on your cranky side.” Jisung teased with a tenderness only showed in your presence, not in his usual teasing, not with the rest of the world. Somehow, time spent with Han seemed like the world itself stopped spinning, waiting for you two and catch up later.
“…no.” You whined. His hand still rested on your face. Unusual. You didn’t want him to move it. “I don’t want to steal your bed.”
Unconciously, you moved closer to the warmth that his palm brought.
“It’s ok. You came here walking, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave now, not at this time.”
You frowned at him, almost pouting. You purposefuly resigned to argue, sleepily accepting his win over a silly discusion you could’ve won. But it was much better if it meant that he would keep being so… tender. You two were dating, yes, but it was quite strange, because even if you both knew about each other’s feelings, staying together had been more of a silent agreement.
Yet in that moment, seeing him smile, dark boba coloured eyes sheepishly and momentarily hidden by it, turning them into happy crescent-shaped moons, it was easy to figure asking was worth a shot.
“…stay w’me?”
His heart skipped more beats than he could count.
This hadn’t been planned. Well. Certainly not this way.
“Stay?” His tone of voice had lowered.
You hummed, smiling lightly. Your hand creeped up to his, the one that rested close to your face. In a sleepy move on your side, tantalizing for Jisung, your fingers tickled his skin, from his forearm to his palm, following a gentle path until your hand held his, and you pulled him towards you again, with more care this time.
Jisung could hear his mate’s low voice in his head, full with its classic australian accent.
“Ain’t no way she’s not head over heels for you too. I’d bet money on it,” Felix had chuckled, sipping the beer Han had handed him. “You guys are just blind cunts when you wanna be. Affectionately, of course,” he had added after seeing Jisung squint at him.
Han struggled to get comfortable in his now seemingly small bed. Of course it was small for two people. It had to be, because if you two were to fit in the space avaliable, it would mean that-
“…cold…”
The ruffles coming from how you then shifted on the bed were no match to how loud Han’s heartbeat sounded on his ears.
Your arm slid under his, lying limply on the curve of his waist, the other cocooned in the small space you settled in between you as you slotted your face in the crook of his neck.
thump, thump, thump.
He forced himself to relax.
“…how are you so warm, Ji?”
He had no fucking idea.
“Warm?”
You nodded, your hair tickling his face gently.
“…cozy. Like… a really cute ‘n little… weighted blanket.” You sighed, further relaxing into him, sending a chill to his spine as your warm breath brushed against his neck.
He was so fucking grateful for being so.
“You’re so cute, you know that?” He stated with a silly smile, a blush clearly obvious on his cheeks. He tackled you, and the two of you filled the room with giggles, his arms taking your body and settleing it on top of him.
You melted in his arms. “I missed you.”
He smiled, his hands playing with your hair. “I was only away for the weekend.”
“…don’t care.” His heart threatened to carve through his chest or melt when you tightened your hold on him, then tugged the blanket closer, covering you, thus covering him too.
He settled a strand of your hair behind your ear, noticing little moles in the way.
“I hadn’t noticed these ones before,” he mumbled in a soft voice that could almost lull you to sleep.
You hummed, not bothering to answer.
“I’ve heard somewhere,” he started soothingly, “that moles appear in the spots where, in your past life, you were kissed the most.”
With a sweetness that rottened your teeth, he pecked the small coloured spot in your neck. Then, he followed a short pattern, kissing the one under your ear, then another one in your shoulder, then finished off with the one in your cheek.
You smiled. “You don’t have any moles, do you?” He shook his head sideways, and you chuckled, brushing your nose with his sweetly.
“You better stay put, Ji,” you beamed cheekily. “I’ll make new moles on you.”
His chest tightened, and he beamed, chuckling as you peppered kisses all over his face.
A love scene like the movies.
His new favourite one.
[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]
catiuskaa, may 2024 ©
~Kats, who has to apologize for being dead for so long (and doesn’t quite have an excuse for it), and also has to tHANK ALL OF YOU BC WE’RE 1k FOLLOWERS IN BAKFBQIFNQKFKQK THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS SRSLY I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN WJKFBAKF <333333
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crguang · 2 days
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each other’s destiny
As you travel with the Astral Express, you need to focus on the future ahead of you and let go of the curiosity you feel towards your past. That can’t happen if you keep running back to Kafka.
trailblazer!reader, some tiny angst, 2.4k words
A/N: if i had kafka’s number i’d send her the most unserious memes i have on my phone every 2 hours. this is kinda messily written i apologize
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Guilt nags at you as you set up your phone against the pillows on your bed, making sure that you can be seen in the front facing camera.
You sit against the headboard, knees to your chest and arms resting over them. The line rings once, twice, and just when you think you’ll have to call a second time, she answers with a small smile. As always, you can only see a blank wall past her figure, nothing that alludes to where she is tonight. She’s sitting at a desk with a cheek in the palm of her hand and a yellowish light source highlighting her clean skin. Where you would feel a sense of curiosity and peace at the sight of her, like an invisible balm soothing your open wounds, a sense of guilt now lingers in your gut. You don’t know the exact moment it settled there, just that it follows you like an ominous shadow with each day spent on the Astral Express after the Xianzhou Luofu’s Stellaron crisis.
“What’s the face for?” Kafka’s raspy voice is clear through the phone, a new discomfort mixing with a deep familiarity that you still don’t fully understand.
You rest your chin on your forearm. You can’t be bothered to reciprocate her easy expression with the heaviness of your chest. You stare into the screen as you think of a way to express yourself clearly. When you take too long to answer, Kafka tilts her head in question.
“I don’t think… we should keep doing this,” you say softly.
Kafka’s small smile doesn’t waver, but something in you believes that she wasn’t expecting your reply.
“Where’s that coming from?”
It’s strange. This sluggishness in your bones, the sadness that envelops you at the idea of distancing yourself from her, shouldn’t be there. You don’t know her. You hold little recollection of who she is and who you were, there is only a thread of familiarity curled around your heart that tugs whenever she’s near. In all the ways that matter, she is nothing— a faint trace of the person you might’ve been, the lingering ghost of a past you can’t remember. You’ve chosen to only look forward the moment you stepped on the Express, where everything that guided you towards the trailblaze becomes irrelevant. You shouldn’t care for what you were because you are a Nameless living in a continuous present; the journey and who you share it with mold you, not a past you can’t seem to shake. You want to be like March, full of life and anticipation for the next adventure, instead you are haunted by her and the incomprehensible tug of your heartstrings.
Your weekly video calls started the second week of you traveling with the Astral Express. You didn’t know about the Stellaron Hunters then, what they did and why, though the latter still eludes you. You only knew the feeling in your gut when Kafka smiled, like you enjoyed the sight many times before. She revealed nothing to you but you couldn’t sense any malice in her interest, so you answered her calls each time your phone rang. You know more, now, about the Nameless and the trailblaze; about what the Stellaron Hunters are prepared to do to achieve their goals; about the galaxy you’re traveling around. You are no longer ignorant and you can’t pretend to be just to indulge the mortal urge to cling to past memories. You feel you are betraying your companions with the… fondness for her that resides deep within your cells. You can’t bear the guilt anymore.
“The Stellaron Hunters…” you pause, then correct yourself, “you don’t care about hurting others. The Luofu’s casualties could have been avoided.”
“People will always have to die for a cause. People have died to elevate ideals since the beginning of humanity. Besides, we made sure you guys saved the day, didn’t we?”
“That’s not right.”
Kafka chuckles and the condescension of it makes your lips purse. She observes you for some time, though you can’t discern what hides behind her practiced appearance.
“You’re even starting to sound like them,” she says, only a touch amused, “seems like you’re fitting in fine with the Express crew.”
“I sound like them because I’m a Nameless.”
“Right.”
She doesn’t add anything else. You let the gentle whirring of the train’s engine calm the growing frustration in your stomach. It’s unfair how Kafka gets to know who you are— were— and you don’t. You don’t enjoy the subtle ways in which she reminds you of that fact either, it makes you feel ignorant, like a toddler who knows little of the world and needs someone to hold their hand. She holds the answers to your questions and chooses to keep them close to her chest for a reason you can’t figure out. You wish you didn’t care, that you could embark on a new planet with your friends and not think about what she’s doing at the same moment. A part of you, smaller, wishes she wasn’t the first face you saw when you woke up on the space station.
“I have something to ask,” your arms wrap around your propped up shins as you speak, “answer me honestly.”
“I can’t promise you I will.”
“Why do you entertain me?”
“…Entertain you,” Kafka repeats to herself, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.
“Why reach out to me and set up these calls every week? We don’t say anything of substance during them, why waste your time with something so pointless?”
“You don’t like talking to me?”
“That’s not what I…” Your features harden when you catch her teasing smile. You ignore her attempt at redirection and continue, “Just answer me.”
Kafka shrugs a shoulder, tucking a strand of hair falling into her face back behind her ear. “I don’t find our talks pointless.”
You don’t know why her reply annoys you, maybe because it doesn’t make sense; you mostly discuss how you’re doing and the new things you’ve discovered on your journey. Kafka asks mundane questions and you answer them in the quiet of your room, softly retelling your week as she watches you grow drowsy in the process. Then you wonder about her and after a few vague half-truths, she masterfully redirects the conversation back to you. By then, you’re too tired to comment on it. Apart from helping you fall asleep when you usually would stay awake until early in the morning, your weekly calls amount to nothing. How can they hold any kind of significance for her? You know why you answer your phone. Despite it all, you can’t help the faint sense of comfort that comes with her presence and in a world of new sensations, it feels nice to have something like that to come back to even if you have no idea what it stems from. You can’t wrap your head around why she keeps calling, however. You suppose it’s not far-fetched to think she might feel the same way you do, since she’s told you about how she was the one who supposedly taught you everything you know. Still, she doesn’t seem like the type to dwell on the past.
A slow, tired sigh escapes you as you cross your legs and run a hand over your face to alleviate the fatigue of your body. Kafka watches you through the screen, her lips a thin line. You rest your elbows on your thighs and cup your cheeks, staring head at the wall filled with pictures March took of Belobog and the Luofu. You photobombed most of them so she let you take them and helped you put them up in pretty patterns with colorful string lights she had laying around in her closet.
“I’m sick of being kept in the dark,” you mutter.
“I understand. Elio makes sure I only know what I need to, and I have to do the same for you.”
“You don’t get to decide what I need or don’t need to know.”
“…Maybe not.” Kafka drums her fingers on the desk. “Your journey matters more than the past, it’s unchangeable and therefore irrelevant. Focus on where you are now and the rest will fade away.”
“So everyone keeps saying. Do I not deserve to know who I am?”
A tinge of irritation laces your words and judging by Kafka’s pause, she’s noticed.
“I don’t want the past to fade away,” you continue, straightening up in a sudden surge of passion, “I want to know. I want to know why you—”
You cut yourself off and she raises a brow.
“Why I what?”
“Doesn’t our past shape our present?” You ask instead. “How can I just go on not knowing who I was before?”
Kafka decides not to acknowledge your diversion. She shakes her head. “Your case is an exceptional one. There’s nothing for you before the Stellaron because you are an artificial body created for that purpose only.”
“So, that’s it? I’m a… a robot, and it starts there.”
“No. You are human in all the ways that matter and extraordinary in every other aspect. That’s when it starts.”
You hear the conviction in her statement. You don’t feel the relief you thought would come with the truth. You can’t put it into words but you feel almost empty, like parts of you are missing and in their place stands a shapeless void. You didn’t get to grow up, to have parents or a family, to learn how to walk, talk, read— you are alive and yet you haven’t truly lived. If people are made up of experiences, you are not a full person yet. It’s uncomfortable to think about and does nothing to alleviate the heaviness of your limbs.
There’s a bulge in your throat that doesn’t go away after you’ve swallowed twice. You stare at the marine blue sheets of your bed for some time, lost in thought. Kafka reclines on her chair, a strange expression on her face. She’s looking at her screen but her mind seems elsewhere as well. A moment passes in silence before you find the strength to speak up about something you’ve wondered since you awoke on Herta’s space station.
“If there was nothing prior to hosting the Stellaron,” you start slowly, “then where does my connection with you come from?”
“I told you on the Luofu that I was in charge of teaching you before I put the Stellaron in your body.”
“Is that why you care?”
Kafka smirks a beat too late for it to be natural. “What makes you think I care?”
“Because I care. Even if I don’t understand why.”
She stares at you through the phone and you meet her gaze without flinching. She doesn’t allow herself to be quiet for too long but you think you’ve put her in a somewhat difficult position. You doubt anything that comes out of her mouth will be truthful.
“Well,” Kafka says with a dismissive shrug, “we did spend some time together, that also explains why you remember me.”
“So we were close.”
She takes a while to reply, looking at something past her screen. Her voice is low, thoughtful, underlined with a sort of wistfulness, “Mmm… You used to follow me around like a puppy, always trailing behind me and asking all sorts of questions.”
She doesn’t seem amused as she speaks even though the words are meant to tease you. You think maybe she misses that. Kafka smiles, but it’s an empty one.
“You’ve grown since then.”
There it is again, that lump stuck in your throat, the feeling that you’re missing something important and that your lack of memories creates a glass wall between the two of you. You can’t understand the look in Kafka’s eyes and the softer edge to her features, if only for the instant she uttered these words. You don’t know why you’re sad when you initiated this goodbye or why it feels like the end of something unexpected, a period of time that belongs to her and someone else. You are unable to remember, but it’s not the case for your body; your shoulders drop and you fight the urge to rub your throat so its muscles relax a little. Somehow, you know that you will only miss her at first, on the days when everything is new and you can’t rely on the familiarity of her voice.
“…It’s late,” you manage to say, and Kafka hums in agreement, gaze never leaving yours.
There’s a sudden knock at your door, the noise making you tense and turn towards it in suspicion until a voice sounds from beyond, slightly muffled yet entirely recognizable. Himeko softly calls your name from outside your bedroom and asks if you’re still awake.
“Just a minute, Himeko!”
Your head snaps back to your phone, alert and aware that she can’t know who you’re in a call with. Kafka observes the conflict on your face with a humorless chuckle.
“Looks like you’ve got company.”
“I need to go,” you reach for the device, pausing for a few seconds as your thumb hovers over the hang up button. “I won’t be calling next week.”
“…I know. We’ll see each other again.”
You hang up with a trembling sigh. You throw the phone on your bed and stand up to answer the door, rubbing your tired eyes. Himeko stands on the other side, a teacup in hand. She’s in a long nightgown, a robe over her shoulders, and she smiles when she sees you; the kind of smile that unconsciously makes your lips mimic hers. Her pretty hair is loose and her eyes are bare of any makeup, exposing the faint crinkles at their corners. The sight of her reminds you of the journey you’re on and of the reliable companions that walk beside you. You feel better than you did a moment before.
“I know you have trouble sleeping and I saw the light coming from under the door, so I made you some tea in case you needed it,” she says, handing you the cup, and you take it with gratitude blooming inside your chest.
“Oh,” you exhale, not knowing what to say. “Thank you. Why are you still up?”
“I may have overdone it with caffeine today,” Himeko laughs quietly. “I’ll be awake for a while. We can talk until you doze off if you’d like. You’ll need all your energy for tomorrow.”
You stand there, fingers gripping the tiny cup as you stare at her. You feel seen under her casual attention and though it isn’t familiarity that washes over you, it’s a comfort nonetheless. You nod, stepping aside to let Himeko in, and the easy way in which she makes herself comfortable in the armchair near your bed makes you light.
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numberonemoefan · 2 days
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I was talking to my dad yesterday about fallout new Vegas for around an hour straight, and mentioned I was planning on playing fallout four sometime, cause my copy of fallout sometimes gets a glitch for an hour that just resolves itself later, and he, while playing fallout four, basically BEGGED me not to play fallout four LMAO
it's so funny to me cause he bought me fo3, fnv, and fo4 and I started on nv and I'm apparently making him want to start nv again every time I ramble about it because he, quote, "would not be playing it [fo4] if there weren't mods"
probably still gonna try it eventually, but I doubt I'll love it as much as I love new Vegas (partly just cause I reallllyy love new vegas. also hi to my sister who followed me for some reason. why did you do that? now you just get sick of me talking about fnv in real life and online/lh)
but new vegas's level of detail is insane to me. all the little character interactions. like, a large majority of the groups/types of NPCs who aren't currently hostile have custom dialogue for when you aim your sights on them. I wouldve never thought that there'd be stuff for that. for scientific reasons, y'all should put a gun to y'all's companion's heads LMAOO. but there's seriously so much fucking detail. like, you can just absolutely fucking fail a stat check and still try to say it and you'll just say it like a fuckin loser. there's so much to explore, like the other day I found the mountainy area with the super mutants on accident. I saw there was an area on the map without any places id discovered, and I was like "y'know what? lemme go check that out." and when I saw TREES for the first time, I was absolutely thrilled. the storytelling in the locations is awesome (and occasionally very heartbreaking) too. gonna put this under a read more line cause it's spoilery for some lore, some of it is sad, and also this post is already long
for example, this is like a stupid one, but apparently the entire H & H tool company was FUCKING. if you read through the terminals, you not only get perhaps one of my favorite lines ever, which is
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but you also see multiple people making emails that say something along the lines of "I told X I needed to do something. bring the moon rocks and dino head grabber ;)" (not an actual quote, but the objects are just as ridiculous)
AND THERES LIKE THREE OF EM AND THEY'RE ALL CHEATING ON THEIR WIVES/HUSBANDS WITH AN OFFICE AFFAIR PARTNER WHILE ALSO CHEATING ON THEIR OFFICE AFFAIR PARTNER.
this is probably the saddest/most disturbing one, but there's a vault that was overrun by spores that infected the residents, vault 22. I was finally getting somewhere, and I found a room with a key card in it. yay!
it was a bedroom. there was a baby carriage in the room. there were two spore carriers (essentially plant zombies) which I killed, then kept looking through the stuff in the room. there was a type of spore person I hadn't seen before that jumped out of me. it was called a runt. IT WAS THE FUCKING KID. after I killed it I just spent 7 minutes or so just staring at my screen cause. what the hell.
the empty houses are so haunting to me too. like all the different junk items strewn around tell a story if that makes sense. like, toy boxes, or houses with absolute loads of empty alcohol bottles in them. it's weirdly haunting.
nipton is also such a haunting location, obviously with the crucifixions and all. going into the houses and figuring out the legion bombed the fuckin bodies was so horrifying and interesting. according to my dad, they do stuff like that in real life in wars sometimes.
there's just SO MUCH STUFF idk how to put it all into words
play fallout new vegas guys
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ejunkiet · 3 months
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Am I the dummie who has been wondering why she has been fighting a migraine all week while simultaneously devouring books on a tiny old phone with a speed she hasn't reached since she was 12?
Yeah. Eyestrain is real folks. I've swapped over to my paper white, which I've had the whole time, just didn't think to use for some reason sksksks
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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months
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youtube
this is not the exact one I watched but I saw one of these "dish scape" things at someone's house who actually has TV (like they pay for dish/cable instead of just watching stuff online) and I think they're meant to be relaxing atmospheric stuff that you mostly ignore, but I sat there for 35 minutes watching absolutely engrossed.. further proof that I genuinely think my brain is incapable of experiencing boredom lol..
#IT'S BECAUSE there's so many little details that like you can spend minutes just scanning every corner of the image and taking it all in and#you keep finding new things! like 'oh I didn't know that blade of grass moved!' or 'I didnt see that bucket before!'. And then on top of#so many details - some things genuinely do change. The one I saw was a Beach house scene and sometimes a bird would fly by or ONE TIME kite#came out of nowhere. a sandcastle built and unbuilt itself. there's a firepit and it comes on when the sky changes from day to afternoon!!#this is like watching a sports game to me. I need weird detail oriented friends who will sit for 20 minutes staring at a barely moving pict#ure & cheer and clap with me when a seagull flies across the screen ghgj.. THERE HE IS!!!! etc!! and there's just so much to think about!!#Like how the images are layered or animated and the choices that were made (like I think the sunrise and sunset sky background images for t#e beachouse are just the same picture flipped and recolored) and trying to predict what's going to happen next (will the lights in the hous#turn off for night time? will another bird show up??) etc! I even got up at one point to walk close to the screen and get a better view of#hese paintings that were visible through the beachhouse windows. and then thinking about building a similar home in the sims! OR ALSO THIS#WOULD BE SUCH A COOL medium I think to tell a story! Like you upload a video to youtube that is framed just as a completely average moving#screensaver ambiance type of thing. It's like 7 hours long and mostly loops the same still image. However. over time at certain points you#can see some thing happen like watching characters interact through the windows. animals or people walk across the screen. certain elements#in the environment morph or change. etc. In such a way that an entire like plot is conveyed. maybe like fantasy mystery sort of thing. I WI#SH I could do this style of art / had friends who could or had money to pay somebody to. I would LOVE to collaborate on a weird surreal#It's Just Your Average Slowly Looping Moving Screensaver Video I Promise' type story.. jjhhgHH.. Or even just making one of these set in so#me of my fantasy world environments. not as a secret thing with easter eggs that tell a story but just literally an image like this tha#moves over time and etc. HHRRGRGHhhhhGG.. ANYWay!! I had to actually turn it off not because I was bored but because it was distracting me#. which is funny since again. I think for most people it's meant to be a 'just leave it on in the background' type of thing that's bland an#neutral . But it was just making me think too much ghjgh.. This is why I can't go to amusement parks or nightclubs bars or concerts like..#a moving screensaver image is too overstimulating to my brain. Could you imagine me going to an environment just full of sensory informatio#like loud noises poeple talking flashing lights etc. etc. ? hghghb... Visiting a grocery store at a slightly busy hour is like my upper lim#it... Anyway.. everything is just so interesting to me. Even if I was locked in a room alone I would have plenty to think about & amu#se myself. I am also a hater definitely like I'm a very analytical person who is critical of society and systems & everything that exists#and even generally am just very opionated and have distinct preferences - so just because everything is INTERESTING does not mean I LIKE or#enjoy everything or never get tired of/annoyed by situations or ideas or etc. But it's more just like.. I literally dont think I could ever#be bored because of the way my brain works and also I approach life with elements of childlike whimsy and constant obsessive curiosity and#attention to detail. so as much as I am an analytical bore I also love everything and the world is fascinating at all times. lol.. duality#of man. if you get it then you get it. ANYWAY.. wanted to ramble abt it. I don't like the above video as much as the one I actually saw but#I couldn't find the beach one online.. BUt.. aaHH! best viewed whilst talking to yourself narrating/cheering! ALSO I want to make one!!!
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myname-isnia · 4 months
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Idk why I thought the new year would suddenly bring immense change to me as a person, it was such a childish belief, I can’t believe I let myself fall for it. The years go by but I remain the messed up anxious wreck who starts crying the second she’s left alone with her thoughts. The new year won’t change anything, nothing will
#just look at me#I could very possibly graduate from school in half a year and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life#I can’t take the slightest bit of criticism or else I’ll feel like shit for a week#I need to be staring at a screen at all hours of the day because if I don’t distract myself I will break down#I’m so obsessed with pleasing people that when I can’t fulfill the simplest of requests I want to die#indulging in hobbies. things that are supposed to be enjoyable. feels like hell for me#through all my years of creating there is only one piece I can honestly say I like and am proud of#and I haven’t even touched writing since because I’m scared of not being able to reach that high again#art comes a little easier but I’m only capable of one or two pieces a month#I don’t have anyone irl whom I trust. I’m so lonely that I literally have imaginary friends. at 17#and I still haven’t figured out my gender or what pronouns I prefer. I don’t even like the name I picked for myself#I could go on forever#I don’t know how anyone puts up with me. I know I wouldn’t if I had the choice#I keep going on and on about how I want to get better. I don’t want to be so miserable all the time#but I just don’t know how#I try to be kinder with myself and I’ve been pretty successful at it but.. it doesn’t help#I can be soft and gentle all I want. it won’t make everything else go away#so there’s nothing left for me to do but cry all alone in my apartment at 2 a.m#I guess
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tatoasting · 1 year
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Today was so good!! I played my bass for the first time in days, worked on my poetry book a bit for the first time in weeks, went grocery shopping, watched tv with my sister, and theres still a couple hours left!! I'll probably just play bass until I cant anymore and then just talk to Hollow until one of us falls asleep <33 such a fulfilling day off!!
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uravitypng · 2 months
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ex bf!gojo new girlfriend looks and behaves suspiciously like you
ex bf! gojo compares his new girlfriend to you
ex bf!gojo just so happens to buy his girlfriend the same perfume and clothes that you own and wear frequently, it's just a coincidence though
ex bf!gojo talks about you when he's tipsy to geto and shoko about how much he misses you, he forgets about it the next day
ex bf! gojo tells himself that there is no need to unfollow you on social media, you ended on good terms so its okay when he stares at your photos for hours wishing you were next to him
ex bf! gojo will sneak downstairs after his girlfriend has gone to bed and lifts up his shirt and holds it in his mouth to stop any moans of your name coming out as he touches himself over your pictures
ex bf! gojo has kept all photos of you together and your explicit photos too. he knows it's wrong to keep nudes of an ex but it's not like it's some regular ex girlfriend, it's you
ex bf! gojo doesn't let his girlfriend use his phone because then he'd find that the home screen is a photo of you and him
ex bf! gojo imagines your face while sleeping with his new girlfriend. he doesn't feel any guilt, it's the only way he can get hard. though he still misses your plump body underneath him, tummy rolls, your warm wet cunt and how soft you feel
ex bf! gojo has given up on teasing and making flirtatious comments to his new girlfriend because she always reacts differently than how you would react, so what's the point if it doesn't remind him of you at all
ex bf! gojo cringes when his girlfriend moans or just talks too much in general
ex bf!gojo swears he's over you and everything is okay (that is as long as you don't find a new boyfriend)
ex bf!gojo smirks when he sees you in public with your new boyfriend. he thought he'd be mad but your new boyfriend looks like the lesser hotter version of him, the resemblance is still there though. you obviously are still into him.
ex bf!gojo confidentially comes up to you both, starting to make a conversation with you and leaving out your partner. you notice but can't seem to care as you didn't realise how much you missed satoru until you saw him again
ex bf!gojo confidence boosted even more than it was after seeing your new boyfriend as you pay attention to what he says with that cute bashful smile on your face that he loves so much
ex bf! gojo knows you'll come back to him soon, it's inevitable by the smile on your face that day. until then he'll wait, picturing you in bed and breaking up with his girlfriend when you come back
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based on this short i wrote
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luvwestwood · 4 months
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"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)
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"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."
3,012 words.
warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,
notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^
credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.
russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️
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Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.
He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.
Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.
Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.
The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.
Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.
Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.
…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.
"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.
Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."
Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"
Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"
He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”
“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.
As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.
Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.
The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....
Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.
Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.
Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.
He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.
Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.
Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"
His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.
You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.
Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.
You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.
Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.
The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]
He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.
Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.
Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."
His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.
Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]
Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.
Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.
His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.
"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.
Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"
His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"
Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.
Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.
"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"
"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.
He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.
Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.
"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.
Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.
You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.
Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.
The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."
Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.
"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.
"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.
His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.
Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.
"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.
Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.
Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.
“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.
Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”
This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.
Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.
Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
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joonberriess · 8 months
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3 D
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p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader
g e n r e : pimp au.
t a g s : pimp!jk debut(!!!!), some degradation, jk watches videos and looks at ur nudes, masturbation, blowjobs, cum swallowing, head pusher!jk, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting(duh), phone sex(?), daddy kink but brief in some scenes, jk is whipped for his pretty gf :( , nasty dirty talk
w o r d c o u n t : 3.2 k
s u m m a r y : “I wanna see it in motion, in 3D. Cause you know how I like it, girl,” or: Jungkook wants the real thing and not some picture or video. Only thing is he’s on a business trip.
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Jungkook tosses his phone off to the side with a quiet “fuck” under his breath. It’s only been three hours since he touched down in LA and not once did you leave his mind even during the long flight on his way over. He thought that after a much needed nap he’d wake up refreshed but it was quite the opposite. However, as soon as his eyes fluttered open he felt the tightness down below in his sweats—cock chubbing up and throbbing painfully through his boxers.
He tried easing the tension by rubbing his hand over the tent at first, he sighed quietly in relief as his hand slipped under his sweats and into his boxers. His cock sat hot and heavy in his hand, twitching when he ran a thumb over the leaky head. “Fuck.” He softly repeats while letting his head fall back on the pillow.
Jungkook’s eyes slip shut as he swallows harshly, he focuses on the hot pleasure boiling in his lower abdomen while slowly working his cock up and down with his thumb swiping over the tip. He pictures you in his bed after a nasty little pussy eating session laying there all fucked out with your thighs still spread and pussy out for him to look at. He swears he can taste you on his tongue just thinking about it.
His lips part as another breathy moan escapes his throat, he lazily flicks his wrist and strokes over his cock while more images of you flash in his mind. He groans out loud at a particular stroke, eyebrows pinching together in concentration as he struggles to keep the same angle and rhythm. Jungkook starts thinking about your ass—your soft, round, apple-bottom shaped ass.
God he just wanted to have his hands over both cheeks, gripping them tight and giving them a couple slaps here and there. His favorite thing to do was fuck you doggy just to watch the way your ass recoiled whenever he slammed in, the bounce was crazy as all he could do was watch in awe as you threw your ass back on him, doughy cheeks colliding against each other or his pelvis.
A low groan of frustration escapes him as he stops stroking himself all at once, slumping over in bed as he lays there staring at the ceiling trying to ignore the heat in his lower belly. He was not having it. He picked his phone up and immediately clicked on his private photos, biting his lip as his screen blew up with endless pics of you or some body part of yours.
He chewed on his lower lip while mindlessly scrolling through the pretty lingerie and ass pics you sent him almost a week ago. A low whistle leaves him, “Goddamn.” He muttered under his breath, he wanted the real thing but sadly these would have to do for now.
Jungkook palms his cock lazily once more, he wraps his fist around the swollen shaft and gives it a small squeeze. He’s even fucking harder now just looking at your pictures rather than before when he was just going off of by memory. He swipes and comes across a photo of your naked body only clad in a pretty g-string. He hisses low at the sight of the string swallowed up between your soft ass cheeks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans in frustration once more, “this isn’t fucking working.” He stops touching all at once and tosses his phone away, a cold shower will have to do, no use in working himself up if he can’t jack off in peace because it’s not the same.
Jungkook sits up and looks off to the side, this is gonna be a long week without you (at least he had his videos though).
.
Two days. That’s how long Jungkook lasted.
After he finished up with his meetings throughout the day, he slipped into his hotel room and locked himself in for the night. God he missed you so much, he wondered what you were doing back at the club. Were you dancing? Playing? Were you missing him as much as he missed you?
Jungkook was half-tempted to call but he decided against it, while it was barely sundown where he was at, he assumed it was literally nighttime/the next day back at home with you. He settled for a hot shower, dimmed lights, and his phone. He went into the same private collection from before and clicked on one of the many videos he had in store.
He licks his lips hungrily and gets comfortable on the bed, hand dipping down to stroke over his hard-on sitting in his boxers:
“C’mere baby,” Jungkook lazily says, “daddy had a rough day.” He eyes you up and down appreciatively, admiring the way your new corset you bought looked on you. “Ah-ah, you know how I like it baby, why don’t you go on and make me proud yeah? That’s it.” He grins softly, watching as you drop down on your hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him with a devious smile.
“Like this daddy?” You softly say with a sway of your ass.
He groans quietly and nods, “Fuck yeah,” he man spreads invitingly while watching with hooded eyes, “those the new heels I got you baby?” He tilts his head to the side.
“Mm-hm,” you nuzzle into his thigh and press your cheek against him, “pretty aren’t they? Wore them just for you, don’t you think I look pretty?” You pout while giving him those sweet puppy eyes of yours.
Jungkook brings his hand down to cup your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek as he took his time to admire your beauty, “Course, my baby always looks so pretty.” He brings his thumb down on your bottom lip, “But she’d look prettier with a mouth full of cock, don’t you think?” He smirks. You softly moan with a nod and he gently tilts your head up by your chin, “Then why don’t you show me just how pretty you are baby?”
You stare back at him like you’re hypnotized, your small hands come up to undo his belt, the sound of his zipper being pulled fills the space between you two. Jungkook leans down to give you one soft peck on your lips before he’s sitting back like the kingpin he is, arms stretched across the back of the velvet sofa. He watches hungrily as your soft hand wraps around his swollen cock, the sight is obscene given that you can’t even fully close your fist around his cock.
“Go on baby,” he breathes out, “slip me in your pretty little mouth.”
You obediently lean forward, lips parted in a ‘o’ as you slip the head into your mouth. He groans quietly at the sight of your glossy red lips wrapped around his cock. You tongue at the slit of his cock, swiping your tongue over the head in repeated motions—left, right, left right. Your hand gently pumps the rest of his cock, you move slowly and twist your hand when you reach the base of his cock before bringing it back up with a nice grip.
“Fuck,” he sighs as he throws his head back with a hum.
You pull back with a wet pop and bring your hand over the tip, smearing your spit all over his cock as you use it to get the rest of his cock slicked up. After stroking him a couple of times you take his cock back into your mouth, this time pushing down until the head hits the back of your throat with a audible gag.
He swears under his breath and reaches up to bury his tattooed hand in your hair. You blink the tears away and bob your head slowly—swallowing messily around his cock. The noises he makes has your thighs pressing together in an effort to suppress your throbbing clit. Not to mention he looks so hot with his head thrown back and his mouth open.
“There you go baby, doing so good,” he pants softly, “tight little throat—’s like you were made for my cock, tight little cocksleeve.” He bites down on his lip and comes back to look down at you, “Love my cock don’t you?” He pats your head, watching in amusement as you moan and nod for him, “Course you do.”
You swallow noisily, slurping up the excess saliva you leave on his cock as you pull back to pop him out of your mouth, “ ‘s mine isn’t it daddy? No one else can have your cock but me right?” You pout while rubbing the tip over your lips, as if you were coating them in a shiny layer of gloss.
Jungkook nods, “Only yours baby.” He reaches down to grip his cock and guide the head back between your lips, “Nobody else does it like you,” he mumbles while watching you take his entire cock down your throat once more.
You reach up to cup his swollen balls in your hand, pairing it with powerful sucks as you hollow your cheeks. His lips part in surprise, a strangled groan leaving him when you begin massaging his balls while bobbing your head much quicker than before. He can’t help himself anymore, he reaches back down and begins pushing your head against his lap. Each push has you taking him deeper and deeper, until your nose is flush against his pelvis.
“Fuck..!” He moans out when you gag around him, your throat constricts tightly around his cock and it has him struggling to keep his composure. “Shit–gonna cum baby,” he breathes out while reaching into his pocket for his phone.
You hum in acknowledgment while bobbing your head to the best of your ability. Jungkook manages to record you sucking him off before he’s suddenly holding you still with a low moan as he cums down your throat. His cock throbs intensely as hot spurts of cum fill your mouth. “Fucking shit,” he shakily breathes out while running a hand through his hair and zooming in on your swollen lips that are still wrapped around his cock.
You pull back with a low pop, lips smeared in a shiny coat of spit and cum, “Am I prettier now?” You smile brightly.
“Fuck yeah,” he sighs in pure bliss while tossing his phone to the side, that was the meanest suck you ever given him.
+
Jungkook breaks on the fourth day.
“Jungkook!” Your happy little voice rings in the quiet hotel room, “I missed you lots, how’s LA like? Oooh can you bring me back something, pretty please!” You pout while snuggling into the many Kuromi plushies you begged him to buy you.
He bites his lip when he sees the state you’re in—practically naked with nothing but a white spaghetti top and your cheeky lace panties. He feels his cock instantly grow hard at the sight, “Hi baby,” he murmurs, “what’s my pretty girl up to hm? Heard about how wild the other night was for you.” He tries not to get jealous at the thought of so many men being around you, Namjoon had reported that the club was busier that night and it only progressed into something wilder when you came out to dance.
“Oh! Yes! Lots of people came the other night and it was just crazy in there, they literally had to use a broom to collect all the money I made during my dance. Joonie also had to tell ‘em I wasn’t available for private dances.” You blow a raspberry, “But anyways, it’s pretty boring without you here. I went shopping with the girls and today,” you ramble on and on.
He groans pitifully when his cock twitches in interest after you had rolled over laying on your tummy, he had caught a glimpse of your pretty ass and it was game over then and there. “Fuck baby,” he sighs, “you’re making it hard for me, ‘s not fair that I can’t have you here with me.” He mutters.
You giggled softly, “Awww, you miss me that much?” You coo softly, “Anything I can do to make it better? Hm?”
“Yeah, why don’t you turn ‘round and show me your pretty ass baby?” Jungkook bites his lip while reaching inside his boxers to stroke his cock.
In a heartbeat you set the phone up against the pillows and sit up on your knees, turning to show off the curve of your ass. “Like this?” You smirk softly, teasingly poking your ass out and swaying your hips side to side.
“Just like that,” he groans, “make it bounce for me baby, wanna see it,” he whispers while rubbing his thumb over the tip in quick little swipes. He nearly moans out loud when you bend over on all fours, ass bouncing just for him as your doughy cheeks jiggle from your movements, “Fuck I wish you were here,” he swallows harshly while keeping his eyes locked on your ass, occasionally his gaze falls down to your chubby little pussy which is kept hidden by your panties.
“Me too..’s not the same with my fingers,” you wiggle your ass and bend lower until your chest rests on the bed and your back is arched with your ass raised high. “Not even the vibrator you got me works.” You petulantly whine.
“Fuck, I promise when I get back I’ll fuck you as long as you want,” he breathes out while stroking his cock faster, “gonna have you pumped full of my cum, till you’re drippin’, you’ll be a good girl and clean it up won’t you?” He licks his lips.
You nod eagerly, “Course.” You reach behind to spread your cheeks apart, giving him a small little peek of your cunt. He groans loudly when he sees a small dark wet patch over the center, he just wants to bury his face between your cheeks and eat your pussy out till you’re crying and begging him to stop.
“I’m gonna cum baby,” he groans, “lemme see your little pussy, pull those panties to the side for me,” he watches as your fingers come down to hook around the fabric, he nearly blacks out when you yank them to side and show off your cunt to him. He swears he even sees a string of slick between your chubby folds.
Jungkook cums so hard he feels like his vision goes black. He slumps against the bed with a low moan as cum covers his fist and cock, some of it even landed on his pelvis—further making a mess of himself. “God I miss you,” he mutters, “just a few more days baby.” He licks his lips, “Then I’m all yours.” He grins.
“Can’t wait.” You smile dopily, “Sweet dreams.” You coo.
+
Jungkook can’t wait anymore. As soon as his plane touches down and the driver takes him home, he’s booking it straight to the bedroom. You had sent him a flirty message along with a picture of yourself in nothing but a thong waiting for him in bed with a cheeky little: don’t be late!
He stumbled through the door, eyes narrowing in on you. You licked your lips slowly and spread your thighs apart for him, “This what you were missing?” You teasingly slid your hand over your pussy, “I know you want me,” you softly whisper while pulling your thong to the side, “so come and get it.”
With that he climbs over on the bed, bringing you down as he slams his lips into yours rather harshly. You moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, his hands are everywhere all at once. He goes from cupping your tits to cradling your ribs and then sliding down to your ass. It feels good to be holding your soft cheeks in his hands once more.
“I missed you so fucking much baby,” he growls softly, “thought ‘bout this pretty little ass and pussy night and day.” He lays kisses all over your neck and shoulder.
“Well now you’re here,” you moan softly.
Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna show you how much I missed you,” he breathes out while sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your pussy. He doesn’t hesitate to tear the thong off and toss it somewhere, he brings your thighs up and over his shoulders as he goes to town on your aching cunt.
He covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth, licking and sucking wildly at your folds, clit, and slicked up hole. You bury your hands in his hair with a loud moan, pushing his head down as you feed your cunt to him. Loud slurping noises fill the space between you two, his tongue runs over your clit in quick flicks going side to side. Your lips part as breathy whines and cries escape.
“Fuck right there,” you sob out while holding his head still, “w-want more..! ‘M too empty.” You buck your hips.
Jungkook isn’t in the mood to tease, he brings his finger up and prods at your tight little hole. Your mouth falls open when he opens you up with one digit, and then another. He hums as he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, harshly sucking on the sensitive little bud while he fucks his fingers into your throbbing cunt.
“J-Jungkook..!” You sob out while arching your back.
Your legs quiver from the harsh stimulation, you don’t know whether you want to beg him to stop or beg him for more. Jungkook however doesn’t let you think straight with the way he’s sucking on your clit and finger fucking you into another universe. His fingers perfectly strike your g-spot with each thrust making your pussy drip and gush around his fingers.
He pulls back to blow on your clit teasingly, “This is exactly how I wanted you—spread out like a little slut with your needy pussy in my face. Look at you,” he chuckles, “practically humping my hand with how desperate your little pussy is.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss over your clit, “Gonna be a good girl and squirt on my fingers?”
“Y-Yes!” You throw your head back, “ ‘m your good girl.” You weakly croak out while grinding your pussy on his fingers.
Jungkook laughs under his breath, “Go on then, cum on my fingers,” he leans down to envelop your clit in his mouth, suckling with a hint of teeth.
Your mind blanks out as you go stiff, your hands grip his hair tightly and you feel your cunt pulse wildly. Your orgasm hits you hard as spurts of slick squirt out from your abused cunt. You throb around his fingers and weakly try to push him away, “ ‘s too much..” You whine tiredly while shaking, “No moreeee,” you pout.
Jungkook pulled away with a smirk, “Messy little thing you are,” he says this as he wipes his lower lip/chin. You grumble back at him and roll away to lay on your side, “What was that, I couldn’t hear you.” Jungkook says while going over to lay on top of you, “What did you say?” He grins as he peppers your ear with tiny kisses.
“I said you broke my pussy, my leg keeps shaking.” You huff, “Get off you’re heavy!” You whine whilst wiggling around.
“Who did?” Jungkook just lives to annoy you.
“You did!” You whine louder.
“That’s right,” he smacks your ass hard, feeling accomplished with himself.
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Bone Deep
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AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex
Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 
You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 
It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 
John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 
You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 
“John?” You called out.
There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 
You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 
“John.”
“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 
“John!”
“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.
“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 
It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 
And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.
You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 
Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 
You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 
“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 
“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”
He scoffed,
“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”
You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 
“You know it’s not the socks.”
The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 
So, you left. 
Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 
You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.
John: hey
You: hey
John: can i call
You: one sec
You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.
You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 
But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  
“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 
Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,
“I’ve been a proper arse.”
You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,
“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 
“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”
You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,
“You are coming home, right?”
You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,
“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”
“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”
The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 
The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 
“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 
The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 
When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 
You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 
Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 
“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”
You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 
“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 
He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 
“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”
His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 
“I swear…” 
He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.
“I swear…” 
You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 
“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 
“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.
Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 
Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 
He groaned,
“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”
You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,
“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”
He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 
“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”
You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 
“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”
As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 
“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 
Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 
However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 
Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 
You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 
“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.
“Can we sit?”
“C’mere.”
John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 
He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 
He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,
“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”
“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 
You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 
“You sure?”
You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.
“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 
Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 
He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 
Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.
You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 
“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 
“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 
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bi-writes · 3 months
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so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.
notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.
mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)
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the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.
DEPOSITED.
when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.
it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.
the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.
he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.
he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.
there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.
he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.
he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.
he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.
there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.
the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.
he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.
the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.
he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.
"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.
"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."
the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.
ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.
he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.
his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.
the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.
you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.
"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"
your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.
"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.
"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."
you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.
"what did he do?"
"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.
"y'try to put your hands on'er?"
"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"
"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.
when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.
he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.
"let me look at ya, little rabbit."
you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.
so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.
his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.
you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.
then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.
filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.
but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.
"you olright, luv?"
you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.
he is a dog, and he is fond of you.
you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.
but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.
the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.
your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.
it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?
it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.
johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.
the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.
but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.
he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.
fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--
he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.
you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.
there is something wrong with you.
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ellabscrush · 3 months
Text
— when i suck it, i look in your eyes
strap sucking w/college!ellie williams x fem reader
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🇵🇸 boycott & ways you can help 🇵🇸
» cw; mdni, fem!reader, afab!reader dom!ellie, stubborn!reader, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking, breast play, no use of y/n
» sypnosis; your girlfriend has been studying for hours and you’re getting needy. knowing her weakness, she finally gives in and oh how she needed a distraction from her studies.
» a/n; hii, this is my first drabble, i’m nervous lol ᰔ hope you enjoy!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
“els i’m boredd,” you dragged your feet as you walk over to the couch where your girlfriend is typing on her keyboard like crazy.
ellie jumps, “uh… not done yet babe,” her eyes never leaving the screen.
you rolled your eyes.
you don’t know what’s gotten into you. you tried respecting her space because often times you would let your girlfriend come over to do her homework and enjoyed each other’s presence. it was chill. she would give you some sort of affection from time to time.
however, ellie has been sitting in the same spot for hours. no lunch break, bathroom break, or checking on her girlfriend break.. it was frustrating on your behalf. still watching her in silence as her eyes stare at the bright screen, you try again.
“so you’re just gonna write all day and not give me a kiss?” you teased, no answer from the brunette.
“ellie williams i’m talking to yo-“
“just give me five minutes fuck!” ellie snaps, cutting you off.
not only you hate it when ellie ignored you, but you absolutely despised yelling. even when you both know she doesn’t mean to. you weren’t mad cause that’s when you realized she was tensed and finally needed a break. you know exactly what she needs.
ellie closes her eyes, “s-sorry for yelling i didn’t mean to-“ she stammered.
you’ve had enough. you grabbed her laptop off her lap and adjusted yourself on hers. knowing her weakness, you lift up your shirt to expose your bare tits infront of her face. her expression had changed from confused to serious quickly.
“this is how i get your attention huh?” you smirked.
suddenly, ellie grabs your neck and both of your lips clashes to eachother, resulting in a sloppy make out while her other hand is firmly gripping onto your waist.
the kiss was fast, deep, and desperate. oh how much you missed her. she missed you even more.
“you know me so fucking well” she whispers in between, “and so fucking needy.”
you whimpered at her words, “very.”
your voice is like heaven in her ears. the kisses slowly went to your neck, and down to your breasts. ellie’s slender hands pushed your tits up, making you gasp because of how hard her grip was.
“f-fuck be gentle please..” you shut your eyes as she bites the living skin off your tits.
“shut the fuck up.” ellie hisses, slapping your tits.
the unexpected gesture made you turned on. your hips start to rock over her jeans, trying to find some friction. your girlfriend is just in cloud nine right now watching you crave for her attention.
your hips move faster, “baby.. need you so bad..” you cried.
ellie’s face lights up, she didn’t say a word but gently lifted you off her lap and disappeared in the bedroom to get a little surprise. she soon came back with your favorite dildo infront of your face, turned on just seeing this sight of ellie.
“on your knees,” ellie ordered, “since you’ve been pestering me all day i need you to be a good girl for me..”
she says as her thumb circles around your mouth, wanting to be let in your wet mouth. so you obeyed.
“mm, fuck” she chuckles, “you really wanted this huh?”
you nod with those fuck eyes of yours. you didn’t even realize it but your shirt was still lifted up, exposing your bare chest. ellie’s free hand starts massaging them as they are her little stress balls.
“want my cock in your mouth?” ellie whispers, “mmm y-yes,” you mumbled.
so desperate that you start stroking her strap, ellie was soaked in her boxers at this point.
ellie then took her thumb out and guided her strap into your mouth. grunting like she swore she could felt it. it was a sight. a sight where ellie pulled out her phone and started recording you sucking her cock in and out, whispering praises.
“good slut..”
“that’s my girl, go deeper for me..”
“want this cock in your tight cunt later..”
the room was filled with filthy lewd sounds like a porno , honestly it could be if ellie posted that video. but she would never. it was only hers to see.
your mouth was getting sore but ellie kept pushing you in more, making you choked a little bit. not only she loved hearing the sounds of your wet slick, she loved to hear you cry and gag on her strap.
muffled words coming out of mouth, ellie didn’t care what you were saying. you were just so pretty in her eyes, on your knees for her as you should be.
“mhmph, keep going.. faster” she whimpered, your mouth was gliding so easily on the silicone.
you took out the strap out of your mouth to show your girlfriend how much of a drooping mess your mouth made.
“i love you els.. i’m all yours,” you say as you were waiting for that affection you’ve been needing all day from her as well.
“love you so much pretty girl..” she whispers.
she was so glad you gave her that much needed break.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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chrollohearttags · 11 months
Text
you couldn’t stop staring at it..
your eyes had been fixated to that damn phone screen for nearly an hour, long after he sent it. But who could when something so beautiful was plastered across it? The attachment constantly on repeat and playing in your mind..plaguing it with filthy, perverse thoughts. Causing you to lose concentration for any other task that you had set before you today. Why exactly?
“Ohhhh..fuck..”
it was the middle of the day. You had just gotten out of your last class and was in the midst heading back to your apartment but first? You made a quick detour to the restroom. It was as you were standing in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss and ensuring that your lace wasn’t lifting from the heat. When your phone would buzz against the hard countertop, making loud buzzing noises resonate throughout the desolate area. What you thought was yet another useless notification from one of the many apps you have muted throughout the day, was actually from the one person you were checking for:
my pookah 🔐🥺🤍
your partner in crime and best friend, Eren, who had just left the gym and like many times before, he checked in with you to see how your day was going. Normally with a funny message or meme..some stupid ass inside joke the two of you had come up with but today’s was rather different..and a little risqué! The only thing on the message was 1 attachment which you immediately opened. It was only by a miracle that you were all alone in there because what followed was something for your eyes and viewing pleasure only..sitting in his car with the front camera titled slightly upward and seemingly propped on the steering wheel, he was glaring directly at you. Those beautiful green eyes glossed over and his tongue glided across those pouty lips. His long hair dangling to his shoulders but tied back by a black bandana. A wife beater with the same color and his grey sweatpants just barely in the shot. You figured this was just another one of his silly antics, even smacking your lips and tempted to shut it off. “This boy play too damn much..all day long—“
but you were immediately halted in your tracks by what followed right after. Suddenly, you see him tug at that elastic waistband. He’d shuffle in his seat for a second until he got them worked down and that’s when his thick cock appeared in the shot. Your jaw damn falling to the floor..for a moment, you had to grab your chest and lean against the counter because you weren’t expecting that! But you certainly didn’t complain nor did you mind. That swollen tip beaming red with precum dripping all down the sides. It was early so you could see a few folks walking in the background but your attention was elsewhere and his? All on you..
“Been thinking ‘bout you all morning..could barely get through my workout.” His voice dropping to somewhat of a groggy, deep tone, almost as if he were entranced and drunk on you. His mind had been running rampant with thoughts of you and all the things you had done a few nights prior from sitting on his face to fucking you in front of the mirror. Anytime the two of you linked, it was so nasty and raw. You had obviously awoken a beast when you gave him the pussy. But he knew exactly how to handle it. Standing against the sink, you’d bite the tip of your finger as you video continued on playing; now intrigued and very much turned on. His fingers were enclosed around his shaft, slowly pumping as his eyes shut and he leaned against the headrest. All the while, he was still muttering and confessing how he truly felt..telling you all the things he wanted to do with you and needless to say, he wasn’t shy about it. Eren was a very vocal lover, no doubt. You learned that quickly. He had no problem telling you how good you felt and that he wanted to nut inside of you constantly. Regardless of how weak it made him look, he was going to make it known that you were the cause of it!
“..wanna fuck the shit out you, mama..so bad. I need that pussy..” Eren cried out with a guttural and pathetic groan..his chest heaving as he gently thrust his hips upward and fucked his fist. Wishing so desperately that it were you. By now, your eyes were all but glued to the screen and thank heavens no one else had walked in because things were intensifying! By now, he had become completely undone. Just panting, whimpering and making his desires known. “..I just know she so wet f’r me. Shit, I wish you were here right now..tryna bounce you up and down on this dick. Make that shit cream all over me. You know how much I love that..you gonna let me have it, right?” Doing that subtle, sexy lip bite that drove you crazy. Especially when he spoke to you in that deep tone. At that moment, it took all your resolve not to answer him aloud. You were losing your mind watching him stroke that shaft, now sped up and making smacking noises. That pearlescent semen serves as the perfect lube. He had even grown right before your eyes. But what really does it for you was when he began pinching his nipples through his shirt and whimpering like a pathetic little puppy. He was such a slut when it came to you. Willing to degrade himself and look as crazy as possible..so as long as he got you as the reward.
“Oh fuck….oh fuck..I’m bout to come so hard. I got to have you, for real. Please let me have that pussy, mama. I’ll do whatever for it..” his voice rising to a high pitched cry at this point and you were practically salivating at the sight. Eren was damn near dry heaving, nearing his inevitable climax when you began squirming around, trying to feint the tiny twitches from your aching cunt. Spasming on nothing more than air at the thought of him filling you. If it wasn’t a shame, you’d finger yourself right there but it's well worth the wait once you two met later on. As for now, you’d watch him fuck himself silly and even go cross eyed as he begged to nut inside of you when he got it again. “You know I want you to have my baby anyways..oh shit. Just promise me I can nut in that pussy, mama. Fill you up just like this. Please..” and the second he uttered that, what followed was a long string of hot white nut flowing down his knuckles and a hitch in the back of his throat. Eventually, he’d regain his breath and seemingly his consciousness, crying out as he came to.
“Fuuuuuck! Goddamnit…”
but it was all for you and he’d do it time and again just to keep you satisfied, both sexually and emotionally. When he was finally of sound mind, he’d laugh and flick his tongue over his lips once more, glaring down at the pool of seed in his lap and splattered all over his thighs. “You see what you do to me, baby? You the only one that gets my dick that hard..makes me act that way..”
and you were the only one who ever would!
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chaotic-iguana · 5 months
Note
hiiii!! i love your stories sm thank you for taking your time to write them<3 can you do one of a miguelxreader where he has been playing video games allllll dayy and the reader just wants a little attention so they "tempt him" if you know what i mean🤭 and he ends up getting just a littlee hissy about it. it can continue on however you like ;)
anywaysssss love you and i wish you all the best<3
-🪷
distracted. 
gamer! miguel x f! reader
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a/n: anon. first of all, thank you and second of all im sending u a sloppy forehead kiss bc this is such a delicious fucking idea i was literally feral to write this. 
warnings: mdni. subspace, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, cockwarming, degradation, (but they’re in love and it’s discussed, i promise), aftercare. 
“mig-gy,“ you whine tearfully, a culmination of the frustration you’ve been feeling all day. it started when you woke up with a warm, sticky feeling in between your legs; a dull ache settling in your gut and tugging at the edges of your thoughts ever since. miguel’d already been out of bed, and you’d found him in the living room in front of the tv, sitting in his pyjamas with a controller in his hand, barking orders into a headset. 
and while you didn’t want to disturb him on one of the very few days he had to himself, you couldn’t help but feel…antsy. you’d been trying (and failing) to get his attention all day, barely met with hms and grunts as it were. which was how you found yourself changing into a pink lace slip, unable to meet your own eye at the reflection before you. your poor, overworked brain made you think it would be a good idea to try and - ahem- tempt him, but when it came to actually doing it, the thought made your face warm. another slew of miguel’s curses at the game made you jolt, and before you knew it, you were walking outside to make sure he was okay. 
and he was, because of course. you, on the other hand, were standing half-naked in the living room at three pm while your boyfriend neglected to even look your way. you stood to the side, wringing your hands and waiting for him to look at you, but after a whole minute with you getting no attention whatsoever, you gave up and cleared your throat. miguel’s eyes flicked your way - victory! - for a bare second until he rolled them and turned back to the screen. which was also how you ended up here, whining from over his shoulder for him to acknowledge you. 
he doesn’t, of course, not until you’re stood next to him pouting while looking down at him with dazed doe eyes, giving you away. miguel knew exactly what you needed and within seconds a harsh order to pause was being whispered into his headset, fingers flying over the comedically-small-for-him controller as his chair finally turned your way. swallowing pitifully, you squirm under the weight of his gaze before risking a glance up at him to find his eyes twinkling with amusement, brow raised in question. 
“need you, migs.” your whispered confession only raises his brow impossibly higher, ghost of a smirk curving his lips before he’s turning away from you again. you’re frowning, half-stomping to stand between him and his screen before he wears his stupid headset again. desire winning against the shame brewing in you, you reach a hand out to his chest- 
and his wrist circles yours, stopping you in your tracks. you’re staring shamelessly at the slant of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the light caught in his hair, gauging his reaction until his voice rings out: 
“prove it.” 
and you’re confused, too lost in the reliving the feeling of the way his nose bumped against your swollen clit as he ate you out for hours last week, responding with a meek “hm?” that has him huffing. he doesn’t even clarify, just clamps a hand on your shoulder and pushes so you’re on your knees, settling you with your head at crotch-level. 
“prove that you need me.” 
and then he’s gone, eyes glued to the screen again. you blink up at him from the floor, content to watch the muscles of his forearms flex as his fingers move on the controller, the vein jumping in his neck as his jaw clenches, the tension in his wide shoulders. startling, you realise that his his eyes are back on yours and twinkling with a challenge. right. proving it. 
shuffling between his legs, you lay your head on his thigh and peer up at him. he’s looking away now, of course. you’d be happy to drool at the sight of him semi-hard through his fitted light gray sweatpants (am i projecting? i am projecting) for hours, especially when the fabric stretches just right to give you a barely-visible outline you can’t help but trace with your fingertips. which is exactly what you do without realising until his breath hitches ever so slightly, a muscle jumping in his thigh. fueled by the vindication, you start tracing patterns on him through his trousers, palming him ever so slightly until he’s bucking his hips into your hand oh-so-slightly. you’re too enchanted by the way he twitches against your fingers to realise how teasing your touch has been until you hear a half-whimper escape his lips, sending a jolt directly between your legs. pressing your thighs together in a futile effort to relieve yourself, you trail your fingers to his waistband and tug it down, reveling in the sharp intake of breath sounding from above you. 
the sight of his tip flushed red makes your mouth water and your tongue darts to catch the precum beading at his slit before you can stop yourself; the sudden warmth making him jump under you. rocking back on your heels, you fumble to pump him with both hands - he’s just so fucking big you can barely touch the tip of your thumb and forefinger with your palm around him - before ducking down to lap lightly at his balls, slick with sweat. kitten licking the underside of his cock while pumping him slowly, you hear him loose a breath slowly before you feel the weight of his hand on your head. faster than you can blink, his fingers curl into your scalp and tug your head back, gaze thunderous when his eyes find yours. his fingers tap your cheek in silent command and your lips part on instinct, and then he’s pushing your head down between your legs, jaw aching at the sudden intrusion. ignoring your choked garbling, miguel rocks his hips into your mouth until your nose is buried in his happy trail and holds you there, tears spilling over your cheeks while you struggle to adjust. the second you struggle against his grip instinctually, his tsk tsk fills the room, mic clicking off before he strokes your hair, so at odds with the fact that he was holding you down with his cock in your mouth. 
“thought you needed me, honey? where’d my good girl go?” and oh fuck, it’s the tone he’s using as if he’s amused by the sight of you all ruined for him that has something cramping between your legs, breath wet and clicking in your throat as you whine around him, your fists trembling where they rested on his thighs. ‘m right here, i’m your good girl and i need you so, so badly so please please please- 
but it’s like he heard your internal monologue, because his gaze softens in moments, thumb sweeping across your damp cheek. 
“lo sé, lo sé. mi buena niña. tómalo por mí, amor.” [i know, i know. my good girl. take it for me, my love.] and all your queasiness dissolves the second his fingers scrape over your jaw, your discomfort dissipating at the sound of his gentle murmur. 
then he’s going back to his game, leaving you kneeling at his feet and gagging around him. every choke, cough or splutter is met with a quick glance at you; at your fingers curled on either side of your head to make sure you’re okay, not tapping out. you know if your eyes had even a hint of hesitancy in them he’d stop; his supposed mean demeanor melting to give way to the cuddly teddy bear he really is. but you’ve reverted entirely to a floaty, dazed headspace, where your thoughts feel blissfully hazy and just out of reach, and you can’t comprehend the thought of not being here, keeping him warm. 
you don’t realise how much time has passed until miguel shifts forward, and the pins-and-needles in your legs make you whimper, gripping his thighs for support. miguel immediately cups your jaw, reaching his other hand to rip off his headphones and turn the game off entirely before pulling you off of him, wiping the drool off your lips and supporting your head as you splutter, his patience infinite when it came to taking care of you. 
“háblame, princesa. ¿cómo te sientes, hm?” [talk to me, princess. how are you feeling, hm?] 
still on your knees, you shift forward with tearful eyes; breath hitching at the bruises you can feel have formed already. you're barely stammering through "h-hurts, miggy" in a hoarse whisper before he's leaning down, wrapping an arm under your thigh and around your head, lifting you into his lap  instantly. you tuck your face into his neck, reveling in the safety of his embrace as you catch your breath. he presses his lips to your forehead, stroking your head over and over while cooing praises to you. it takes a while, but before long you're pulling back, kissing his chin with a soft grin. 
"there she is. there's my good girl. so perfect for me, aren’t you?" your shy nod makes him smile, fangs poking through in that endearing way that makes your heart hurt and the warmth blooming in your belly burn. 
“can i have u now, migs?” 
and oh, you sound so wrecked for him, how could he ever say no? 
and if his team lost the game, well. that’s on them, isn’t it? 
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hello my loves, as always, thanks for reading, comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis (hey pal), @party-hearses (hey gruv), @chiogarza, @jenispunk. message me to join my taglist. divider by the amazing @cafekitsune.
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