#this fucking storyline has me so fucked up you have no idea

[zara-renata]

jumping up and down pls pls pls tell me your thoughts on caleb’s lore in the main story and what u think after going through his memoria and bond. as soon as they brought up the chip in the main story i wanted to throw my ipad bc i thought they were gonna do the whole “oh he’s not actually like that his mind is twisted from the chip” thing. but then he directly addressed that idea so i was like ok wow i guess not but everyone seems to think he is actually being controlled by the chip??? idk

heey thank you for this ask, i have a lot of thoughts as usual, thank you for asking <3 just a note: i wholly accept the gege caleb is your adopted brother aspect of his story like in the CN, KR, and JP versions, so i'm referring to him as mc's brother below. you can switch out brother for childhood friend; in either case, mc has a deeply rooted relationship with him.

First off, if I had a braincell I might have worried about the chip controlling his brain as a plot device, but I got the yandere vibes from him before he blew up, so that didn't even occur to me. But who are these 'everyone' of whom you speak? I don't think he's being controlled by the chip to any extent that matters in regards to his feelings and behavior towards mc. He's actively fighting against the chip's influence with his wildly cute and bizarre little black hole in his brain blocking its further invasion into his mind. the cliffhanger is, can the EVER scientists figure out a way to work around the block he's thrown up to actually exert control over him? The answer will be -> fuck if I know, I've never played an infold/PG game to later stages, but this is a dating sim, i'm assuming he'll be fine.

But I do think that all of his obsession about MC is wholly his own. His only wish in high school was MC's name -> MC herself. His need to protect her, to provide for her, all his own. he's been wearing a mask his whole life, he tells MC straight up that 'maybe this is how i've always been' because that's who he has always been. he's just finally "done playing these games" and is finally unapologetic about what he wants and is tired of fighting himself in getting it. I love him so much for it. "I know best, I'm the only one who can do this for you, and i'm going to do it whether you like it or not." and then if MC refuses to listen to him, if she pushes back, he looks like a kicked puppy and still keeps doing it. He's Like That without the chip. Is what he's doing okay? No man, this is unhealthy as fuck. if you want a healthy relationship based on mutual trust and support, you don't lie to and drug your sister-girlfriend. you don't urge her to be a hunter and then not trust that she can also take care of herself. you don't loom outside the cafe she's out at friends with and scare her friends into thinking you're some kind of abusive controlling asshole. I mean, unless you're caleb, and he doesn't care, he's finally owning his red flags. But I think it's fabulous to see his pikachu face when MC is like, i don't know you anymore, I might not want to see you for awhile, i'm pissed that you're still treating me like a defenseless little girl when i'm a trained killer now too. he deserves to look like that after all the shit he pulls. i like that infold just takes him right to the edge but doesn't push him over into 'okay this isn't fun anymore' territory with all of his core traits and motivations. he does let her go in the end, he lets her get in the airplane, escape the cage he's dying to put her in. with just the little card, begging her forgiveness, the forgiveness she promised him years ago.

But i digress. I really like the main storyline, but it's not without its flaws. So the things I liked: i'm shocked and happy that they made him full on yandere with the drugging mc and locking her in the house and then locking her in the infirmary and sidelining her at every opportunity in order to protect her. Those parts were great. I think the main story line was a wonderful showcase of how him as a character. I love his tenderness, and his suffocating presence were really well done. I loved how unhinged he is when MC says she doesn't need him, and he knocks over the apples and is laughing in breathless disbelief. Unmasked caleb = hot and a little scary. but please note! even when he's really upset, he does not hurt her! he's a hell of a lot more gentle than sylus! just, you know, throwing that out there.

What I didn't like: I thought that the plot was kind of all over the place. and like they often do in games like these, they nerfed MC in order to emphasize caleb's personality and traits and strengths. the whole mia and kevi storyline was a tragedy, and MC made some stupid-ass choices in it for an elite hunter. Like, the parallels with CalebMC were really clumsy, it felt a bit exploitative because they were such little kids, and for me its only value was highlighting how little Caleb cares about collateral damage in his quest to protect MC. He does not give a fuck if a little girl just like MC dies, as long as MC herself lives. That's some stone-cold villain shit, and I like it. They gave me my green flag with Sylus, I'm happy to have someone with such chilling aspects to his character as a nice balance. ALSO with the main storyline: Look, I love the other LIs. But Zayne, you're green grass, you're so lovely, but i am here for my toxic brother-boyfriend, why are you showing up and making me love how gentle and tender you are, genuinely are, unlike the fucked up walking disaster of a man i'm absolutely swooning over, who is gentle and tender in the way a child is when accidentally suffocating carefully-caught butterfly under a glass bell. Go on zayne, back to akso, I want more of the insecure border collie/german shepard crossbreed puppy masquerading as a colonel.

So because I am mainly interested in this game for the characters and their relationships to MC, I don't really mind that my low expectations for the the actual plot of the game tend to be proven correct and leave so much to be desired. but, If the plot was perfect I wouldn't feel the need to write fic to fix it, so I'm not too upset.

Another thing I hated, but I knew i'd hate: their reunion was so tepid. MC's joy in seeing him again, the relief that he's actually alive, her rage, her grief, everything he put her through in the past year -> like with sylus, glossed over, not addressed to the full extent necessary for a fun story or for emotional catharsis. i thought it was hilarious that mc is like, oh my brother is now a space nazi, and she is immediately ride-or-die, 'i don't even care that you're doing such awful shit, i've got your back no matter what,' even though he put her through so much and reveals himself through the whole main story to be Not The Brother She Knew. Who is this stranger? Apparently MC doesn't care, he wears caleb's face, so she's going to trust him. incredible. stupid. hilarious. but, oh well, that's what fic is for, to fix this nonsense. sidenote: Sylus didn't get this level of benefit of the doubt! MC made him suffer for SO long, suspecting him, not trusting anything he did! justice for sylus! and he had done way less horrible shit than MC watches caleb do!

As for the memoria and the bond: i love that he's been obsessed and nuts about her since high school, long before he left for the DAA. I love that the 4 star cards are all set in the past, but slowly show their growing romantic feelings for each other in high school, and don't just focus exclusively on cute childhood nostalgia. i love that they show how loving caleb is, when he's not wearing his space nazi uniform. because yes he's controlling, possessive, ruthless in a way that not even sylus is, but he really does love mc. he really does want whats best for her, and i think one of his character developments in the game will be learning to let her walk next to him instead of always sidelining her and making her feel less-than as a result. i love that she and caleb fight, and get in spats, and then make up, and he shows all of his emotions on his face. I love that in his memories he tells her that she's beautiful, that he thinks she's amazing. he's so open with his affection for her, and i love that so much, it's heart-fluttering.

Also some more thoughts about Caleb and Sylus I was sharing with @minniestarmj today: i love that caleb and sylus are two sides of the same coin. they're both caretakers, they both are obsessive about mc, they both track her and stalk her, and want what's best for her and to be the ones to give it, but Sylus never considered himself human but slowly finds his humanity in mc, and caleb, if he ever had humanity, slowly loses it because of mc.

they're both brain-empty, only-mc levels of motivation. sylus, though not being human, cares about weaker creatures. caleb only cares about mc, despite being human.

sylus is assured, stable, deeply devoted, MC is his other half, and just as strong and capable as he is. caleb is deeply insecure, unstable, has a trouble keeping a lid on his need for control of and protection of mc. sylus fully respects mc, trusts she can do anything, and is just waiting to step in to support when/if necessary. caleb is fear motivated-i think he does respect, admires, worships mc, but is too afraid of anything happening to her and leaving him alone to give her the freedom she craves/needs.

I love that sylus is the king of control, and can give it up so easily to MC, whereas Caleb is so desperate for control, and is always on the verge of losing it around MC. that's a nice fucking contrast to play with in their respective romances.

All in all, with both Sylus and Caleb, I get my healthy, sweetest beyond measure dragon boy and i get my unhinged yandere cyborg boy, and i love them both very much. i'm happy with the caleb as a character, and all the content they've given us so far. it's a mess, just like him.

So! despite all my bitching i love it and I'm having a great time! Thanks for the ask and making it this far in this rambling diatribe!!

[howlingday]

Disclaimers:

1. DO NOT harass the real Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross. This is just something meant to be silly.

2. Insert less important point 2

Yang: Excuse me Kerry. Miles.

Kerry: Oh, hey, Yang!

Miles: What's up?

Yang: Listen, I'm going to cut to the chase. When do I get my own story?

Kerry: What are you talking about?

Yang: I have been on every cover for the past 9 volumes, but so far my only storyline is either about Ruby or Blake. Pretty much sidelined for someone else's story.

Miles: ...Yeah?

Yang: Don't "Yeah?" me! I'm feeling kind of ducked around here!

Kerry: Well, I'm sorry, but we need to make room for our knew idea.

Yang: And that is...?

Kerry: So, you know that guy with the monkey tail and he always has his shirt open?

Yang: YOU'RE GIVING IT TO FUCKING SUN?!

Miles: No, no, no!

Kerry: ...To his cousin.

Yang: HIS COUSIN?!

Miles: Yeah, her name is Starr, and she has a dojo, and, oh, she's so cool!

Yang: You're going to sideline me, the girl on the box, in the name of RWBY Cousins?

Kerry: ...Could we ask you to word that differently? You made it sound really stupid.

Yang: BECAUSE IT IS STUPID.

Miles: Aw, c'mon, don't be like that...

Yang: You are giving me second-billing to a character vaguely referenced and then revealed at the end of the worst RWBY novel ever written. So, yeah, I'm a little pissed.

Kerry: That's a really good point. I'm gonna reboot everything.

Yang: WHAT?! WHY?!

Miles: Yeah, we really wanna!

Yang: YOU'RE GOING TO UNDO AT LEAST TEN SEASONS WORTH OF EVERYTHING WE'VE BUILT TOGETHER WITHOUT FINISHING WHAT WAS ALREADY STARTED?!

Kerry: You're really entitled. Y'know that?

Yang: I'VE BEEN ON THE FUCKING BOX SINCE DAY ONE! I'M SORRY IF I GOT A MISCONCEPTION OF MY IMPORTANCE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO WRITE?! GOD DA- (R'bootrd)

Miles: And delete~! Okay, first things first; Jaune watches another red-head die because of him.

Jaune: (Holding Nora's corpse) WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?! WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[squirrelno2]

Ok so Davrin! I have Thoughts about Davrin.

Because if you’re aware at all of the stuff I write you’re probably aware that I am a big fan of the kind of character who subsumes their own desires and survival and personhood for the sake of being One Thing, whether that’s a living weapon/made to be a soldier situation or just a “I am Your Best Friend first and foremost situation”. It is, uh. Small wonder I end up liking characters of colour the most, since those are the ones most often written with a Purpose in the story who don’t get to expand beyond that Purpose in the narrative, or if they do have that arc that I crave it’s still underrepresented in fanworks so it becomes my favourite and most frustrating niche where I have to create the content I want to see in the world, which is “person who tries to ignore their own needs gets to realise they’re allowed to love and be loved whether or not they’re useful”. Please be aware that while I don’t specifically discuss Davrin’s Blackness in the next few paragraphs it is a large part of why I’m writing this now because it massively changes the way this story gets read, both because people with unexamined biases will gloss over his story and just accept Davrin as being a tool to the story instead of a person and also because those of us who are aware now must consider how to address such a storyline knowing that Black people most of all are reduced in their stories to things and plot points.

So getting back to Davrin in particular I am both obsessed with and frustrated by how he’s written because! His narrative is such a good example of this trope! He is a monster hunter, and to a lesser extent at the start a protector, and from the moment we meet him he is trying very hard to keep himself shut in that box. He downplays any effect he has on the griffons, is upset at the idea of taking care of Assan because that’s what the others are there for, he’s just the sword arm. As time goes on and we do things like, you know, fight an archdemon without getting our Warden buddy killed, he seems so lost and almost devastated to have not died when he was “supposed to” – and this is a man who doesn’t really seem suicidal at all, he has no real desire to die, he just. Expects to. And what he can do to save others is always more important to him than what he could do to save himself. When my Rook walked in there expecting to be overjoyed with him that they were both still around I have to think the gap in emotion was so jarring to both of them, because like. This man has accepted his own death in the face of the “greater good” for so long that he never once made a contingency plan or even wild hope for “what if I don’t die?” And it’s so cool that he and my Rook got to walk hand in hand through danger and decide they deserve to be happy! It’s so cool that you get to potentially get him through the entire game and into a life with open possibilities and who knows what kind of future for the Wardens! That’s my shit!

And while I can’t say I’ll never choose the Grey Warden option for the griffon choice, to me that is so much a metaphor about letting yourself become a weapon vs finding peace and joy that is in line with you as an individual that if I’m playing the game acting on my conscience, not a Rook who’s further from me, I will always choose Arlathan for them. Because that’s so obviously a metaphor for Davrin’s own growth as a character.

This is where it pisses me off, though – too much of that metaphor is treated literally. Davrin doesn’t verbally acknowledge what the griffons’ changing role means for him, and I’m unsure if an unromanced Davrin ever says anything about planning for the future, having only gotten through the game once thus far. The fucking epilogue where all the companions say a little line about what’s in their future and Davrin just mentions the griffons and not his own fucking life??? Like he had a little line about pursuing romance or whatever but again. That’s a romanced Davrin. If he and my Rook hadn’t vibed “the griffons found a new home in Arlathan” or whatever would have been presented as the sole culmination of Davrin’s character arc. I love coparenting a griffon as much as the next guy but we cannot replace the “sword arm” persona with a “griffon daddy” persona as though him subsuming his needs and wants for the sake of Assan is any better for him than doing it for the Wardens. What the fuck.

Anyway short version of all that is Davrin has my favourite kind of story, and griffons are a metaphor for the way Wardens treat themselves. and the POINT of me writing all that is that you cannot approach his story without acknowledging that the fact that he’s a Black man means people who work/ed on both canon and fan content are ready and willing to treat him as a tool in his own fucking storyline for the sake of an animal, and he deserves so much better because holy hell if you’re gonna write a Black man with this kind of “I exist for a Purpose alone” arc you have got to pay attention to what you’re doing. Please. his story involves Assan but it's not about Assan it's about him.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Thirty

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline.

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

“Let me go!” I thrashed around in Clint’s embrace as he dragged me back into the house. 

“Shut up!” He tossed me to the cold ground. “You’re lucky I only shot you in the leg.” 

My hand was wrapped around the bleeding wound on my leg, the bullet still logged in there. The blood pooled from my fingers onto the dried leaves while I scampered to my feet in trying to escape yet again. Which only made Clint yank me back by the hairs of my scalp, more cries echoing throughout the woods. 

I struggled the entire time as he dragged me to the basement of the small house and didn’t want to risk me running away again so this time he tied both of my hands behind me to the same pole that I had been stuck to for days. 

Clint’s hand was wrapped tight around my throat, oxygen seizing from my lungs. “If you try that again I can promise that you won’t walk out of here alive.” 

I gasped trying to let the air fill my lungs when his grip left from around my throat. 

“Go fuck yourself,” I coughed. 

He bent low, ready to say something, until the door kicked open with Natasha walking in. She was fuming, steam coming out of her ears. 

“Bitch!” She spat while digging her finger into the bullet wound in my leg. 

I cried out in pain, eyes screwing shut with tears. 

“How could you let her pull a fast one on you?” Clint seethed while pulling her back to her feet. 

Natasha scoffed. “Where the hell were you? It was your turn for her break.” 

Through small tears, I watched as they bickered back and forth. 

“This was your idea, you should be the one watching her!” Clint yelled. 

“You’re the one that put the hit on her! No one has been able to follow through with it so we need to take matters in our own hands,” Natasha said with her hands on her hips. 

I snickered, still in pain. “I’m flattered you guys are fighting over me.” 

They both looked at me and Clint ran a hand over his face before pointing a finger at me. 

“She’s your problem. Deal with it.” He said to Natasha before leaving the room, the door slamming behind him. 

There was a thick tension between the two of them and I realized that if I wanted to prolong my life, the only way to do that was to keep her talking about that. 

“So it was your idea to kidnap me?” I asked. 

The sound of a chair scraping across the concrete floor hurt my ears as Natasha sat on infront of me. 

“I had to get you away from Bucky somehow,” she shrugged. 

“To what?” I raised a brow. “Get back with him?” 

“You don’t deserve him!”

Natasha was on her feet again and began pacing in front of me. 

“He had everything with me! I was a loyal wife, ready to give him whatever he wanted,” she started to ramble.

“Loyal? You were fucking Clint,” I said. 

“Because he was fucking you! I had to get back at him somehow!” she snapped. 

Curiosity got the best of me. “When did you find out about us?” 

Natasha’s pacing halted. “His birthday. Bucky kept looking at his phone all night. When he finally stepped away from it, I couldn’t help myself from looking through it. All I saw was texts between the two of you.” 

I sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-.” 

“What?” She kneeled in front of me. “To steal my husband away from me? To sleep with him?” 

The anger in her eyes caused them to go black as she pulled out a knife from her pocket. 

My shoulders didn’t tense this time, like all the other times she did this. After seven days locked here, the fight within me was gone. Especially after my failed attempt at escaping. 

I hissed when I felt the blade drag across the bare skin of my thigh, the one that didn’t have a gaping wound to it. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” I groaned while leaning my head against the pole. 

Natasha wiped the blood from the blade on her sleeve. “Because I want to make sure I completely break you.” 

I gave her a hard stare. “You already have. You said it yourself, no one is coming for me. So there’s no point in keeping me alive.” 

“Steve was so enamored with you,” Natasha ignored my words, deciding to change the subject completely. 

“He would have been perfect for you. The four of us could have gone out together, been the best of friends. Our kids could have played together. We could still have that if you promise to stay away from Bucky when I let you out of here,” she said while sitting down in front of me. 

I scoffed. “You’re delusional if you think Bucky would want you back after this.” 

The knife was pressed into my neck and Natasha yanked my head to the side by my hair. 

“You knew he was married but yet you kept going back to him,” she said. 

Her eyes crossed over every inch of my face but when she noticed the way my breath caught in my throat and how I avoided her gaze, her face fell. 

“You love him,” she muttered, dumbfounded. 

My lips didn’t move, knowing that there was no point in lying to her, so the next best option was to say nothing. Even if I did say something, the commotion coming from above us had gained both of our attention. Voices were muffled and it sounded like a scuffle was happening.

Natasha looked up and followed the noises from above with her eyes so I used this as the only opportunity to do what I had been planning the second Clint tied me to the pole. 

A loud yell erupted from my throat as I tackled Natasha to the ground, the knife and rope that was used to tie me falling around us as we had our own scuffle. My fists collided with her face a few times before I stumbled on my feet to run from her. I didn’t get far, her hands wrapping around my ankle to bring me down to the ground again. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Natasha seethed while digging her finger into my bullet wound that had finally stopped bleeding. 

“Fuck you!” I cried while smacking her hands away. 

This time they wrapped tightly around my throat, cutting off my breath. Everything became weak and clouded as the light around me faded, my hands falling to my sides. My life was slipping away and this was the last fight that I had in me. I was ready to give it up. 

Bucky wasn’t coming for me otherwise he would have saved me on day one. But it was a week later with no sight from him. 

A loud gunshot rang in my ears which caused my eyes to snap open just in time to see Natasha fall off of me in a heap of a mass onto the ground. I had to blink a few times to let life fill my veins once again. 

“Doll?” 

The familiar voice made me sit to my knees, a painful groan slipping from my lips. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Broken, tired, eyes locked with deep blue ones that I loved so much. 

“Bu-Bucky?” 

My hands shook while they reached for him, unsure if he was actually here in front of me or I actually had died and this was my version of heaven. 

He was staring at the body of Natasha, who lay motionless next to me with blood pooling from the wound in her back. The gun was clenched tightly in his hand as his face shook with anger, lips trembling. He was almost waiting to see if she would sit up so he could shoot her again. 

“Bucky?” My voice quaked again while I stood to my feet. 

Bucky was enraged, my words going in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t until I slowly walked over to him and placed a gentle touch on his cheek. 

His eyes lightened, the gun clattered to the floor, and his strong arms wrapped around me. 

“Doll, you’re alright. I’m here.” 

His reassuring words and soft hands were what I needed to feel safe again, my body crumbling in his embrace. My sobs stained his shirt and he lifted my face by my chin. 

“Your face,” I gasped while running a finger over the cuts and blood. “What happened?” 

“Clint,” was the only thing he said. 

Bucky then cupped both my cheeks as he bent high and low to look over every inch of my body, inspecting all of my injuries. 

“You came for me,” I cried, tears falling again. 

His lips pressed a kiss to my forehead while I grasped hard at his hips. 

“Always, doll.” 

[zhekiel]

does anyone like Task Force Z as much as i do? 🥺

does anyone want to talk about Task Force Z? 🥺

does anyone else see Jason "I bet on losing dogs"/"If they're a lost cause, so am I" Todd in Task Force Z the same way i do? 🥺🥺🥺

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

my 1 (one) stardew opinion is shane should not have won the bachelor poll

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i need 911 to make henren happy and then leave them the fuck alone

[comediakaidanovsky]

jesus christ these audiences for roh/aew what the fuck. like i get that it's hard to sort structural things out when the company is in a tailspin but man do they need to do something drastic. however many monitors tk was hit with it was not enough

[gaylittleguys]

it’s actually so fucked up and evil that random white npcs from bg3 that show up twice got more dedicated fans than Wyll

[jin-zixun]

the desire to write glee s6 au fic

vs

the desire to not watch glee s6 which would be an implicit requirement to properly writing s6 au fic

[becca-e-barnes]

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel Masterlist

This is won't be a storyline fic, I just need to get some of these random ideas out of my head.

Things of note: reader is asexual but *not* sex averse, will come up. Ghoap will be a side thing but they are all end up loving reader in different ways.

If you have any ideas or scenes you would love to see in this world please feel free to drop them in the comments or hit me up in an ask. I fucking love this work I have created and if it never ends like a sitcom aiming for syndication.

Ceiling, Floor, Door

Meeting Soap

Sore Loser

Gotta Go

Batter Up

Hugs That Heal

Charmed

Grocery Delivery

Iced Coffee & Scary Movies

Something Stupid

Coffee Orders

Sweet Girl

New Glasses

Stutter

When Did It Change?

Really? You'll Wear It?

Nosey Nancy's

Ten Minutes Please

Job Offer

Frozen Toes

Three Small Squeezes

Scorched Earth

Finding Normal

Bed Snatchers

Sober Up

John, You're Buying A House

Sit Down

Ovulation is a Bitch™ - SFW (Tumblr exclusive)

Charcuterie

Cat Distribution System

Birthday Present *Has slight sexual content

Lover and Love

Witching Hour Wishes

If AO3 is more your jam, chapters will only posted in order as they are completed over there though so Tumblr will have the most and most up to date parts.

Masterlist Shout out to @saradika-graphics for the so cute dividers.

[astralnymphh]

carpenter!ellie 😩😩

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒. ♱

content: ignoring the fact that this request is a tad old, let me indulge in you some headcanons for her! smut, mdni, reader has a child, dork!ellie content, loser!ellie content, general storyline outline, fingering(r!receiving), oral(r!recerving), dom!ellie, rough-handling, mama petname, hint of breeding kink, fluff intertwined. this took a hot minute, sorry for the wait. (2.4k wc)

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

She was a shiny object of secular occupation. Glinted skin, tinted lips, pools of sweat in plaid, and hair like mahogany. It was eye-catching the first time. Stepping through the wide workshop door, the screeches of saws drowned everything out: the thoughts, the plans, the mental image of those kitchen cabinets you wanted done, but she drew everything back in.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the one that pulled you aside to chat about your renovation project. It took a rustic couple of days of contracting and working out blueprints before she was introduced first and foremost. Woodcraft of Wyoming makes customer-supplier relationships their top priority—and Joel made sure to put in nothing but good words.

“Hey.” She had specks of sawdust dusted across her cheeks, and a voice fit for an angel. Even held out her hand to you. “New girl on Goldpine?” Fallen straight to your knees, you were. Gorgeous girls in labor-intense jobs are the fucking sweethearts, and sweet-looking. Your opening thought was to chuckle—for no reason; there was a nervous weight on your chest. “Yeah..” It was airy and soft in the pit of your throat. “That would be me.”

And neither one of you knew how to continue threading the seam after; secluding hands in pockets, avoiding eye contact. Back then, you were simple strangers, so you had no clue that she was a virgin to regular conversations—with girls like you, at least. She communed with older folk, more often. Girls within her dating range are so damn confusing!

Not to mention, the unmentionables: Are you single? Are you gay too? Do you even like girls like her, big heart and small tits? Round eyes and long tears? Forest eyes, or ocean ones? Greyhounds, or tabbies? Do you hate coffee? Do you like video games? If you could bring one thing to a stranded, desolate island in the sea, what would it be—and why? Have you ever skipped town? Would you, if shit went south? This shit is the standard procedure for a girl heartbroken twice-over!

But you—you are the least confusing, and most wanting.

God, and she smells only of wood.

Woodlands, and processed bodies of wood. Something you expect from a girl of her plaid-wearing, converse-pairing type.

Oh, and has about every off-hand item linked to a sage carabiner in her belt loops. Rejects the idea of a purse or a backpack; pockets and loops are the way to go, apparently.

When she discarded her gloves in front of you for the first time, it was a pleasant discovery. They covered her tattoos: graceful, rebellious little things you are sure procured a lecture from her dad, Joel, who owns the place.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄:

So, it came. Day utero, a week later: the day she had to go against the odds in her gut. So, let's say you're the cute girl on the block she wants to buy you a drink in the potential, rather near future? Forget it. You barely know each other and she was there on the clock, not to flirt with the client in her own damn house! She was the one responsible for getting your renovation project off the ground—well, deeper in it. That comes first. She had to accommodate every little need you spoke into the autumn air, every little direction.

Her heart did swing, however. She was in your world, and your voice was there too. She escaped into it, and ended up hours further in eveningtide with multiple cuts on her fingertips from lacking focus; your beauty the edge of a sharp saw. There would be a “Fuck!” or an even stronger “Motherfucker!” from her that pierced through the halls.

Again, and again, and again. The first-aid kit sees her face more than anyone else.

Soft memories of you seeped under the band-aids. Memories you think nobody will remember.

It was tedious work. It wore her and everyone involved thin, so that is exactly where you popped in. Pretty outfits and impossibly prettier artisinal platters in your hands, turning heads over the sounds of sawdust. Sunlight seemed to rain in even harder once you sauntered inside.

On her breaks, a camera would be taken out for recreation. Beyond the surrounding green belt of silence stands the backwoods; a cacophonic mural of birdsongs. Birdwatching opportunites. From the sink window, you could spot her. Each chirp that sounded, she took a polaroid camera to a perfect line of sight and snapped a photo, crinkling up her flecked nostrils. Then, you knew she understood the unspoken language of the woods.

She also never engaged much during them, reading the lips of everyone in the room—lingering on one pair the most. Yeah, yours. All the carpenters aiding you had at least something to start a conversation about: whether it be the area, who lives with you, what job you work. Humdrum things that come without thought or genuine intrigue.

But she watched. When it wasn't birds, it was you. She never meant to lurk on the sides. Sure as hell, she longed to say something—anything, but in the same chorus, not just anything.

She wanted to be the special one out of the bunch.

So, she studied you. Studied herself, next to your existence. Turns out you have more in common—and more chemistry, than a glorified hour of rubbing elbows and licking lips in a bar would provoke or reveal. Thank goodness she chose the route less traveled by.

“You go to museums quite often?” she spoke as she slid up the counter edge, sacrum leaning on the ridge. Convinced your ears were crafting speech from quiet air, you did not notice her. Whatever words she etched into the walls of her throat, practiced in the mirror a ritualistic amount of times, came out too soft. She repeated herself with a nudge, and a satin ribbon on the ends of her last words. Something you notice. “With 'ur son?” It lightened your eyes. “Oh, yeah.” It also lightened the numbed spots in your brain; she is a breath of fresh air. You wore unworn smiles for her. “He loves dinosaurs with his whole damn heart. Well, as he would say—with his whole butt, or whichever weird denominator he uses.” You get her to such an egregious level of delusion, she begins to consider marriage. With anybody, to be clear! Totally isn't limiting her options to you only. She coughs up a laugh. “Tch—he's just got an imaginative word bank. Don't knock'em, mama.” Defending the honor of your capricious son—whose humor is made up entirely of fart jokes—but she slipped in that sly nickname. You assumed she meant no lust, and no love by dropping it, an anxious pause breathing between it, but it sent a shiver right down your spine, and settled in the small of your back. Fucking romanticist.

You already thought she was perfect then.

But somehow, there was a whole lot more packaged perfection sat alone, and unwanted, inside this strange girl with doe eyes. If there was a mountain of boxes to carry in, she wouldn't even let your hands grace the edge of one.

She has an innate sensualism to her. When she did work, and when you did an admissable nothing, she enveloped the eye of your mind. Those little, lustful pit stains drooping from her shirt everytime she lifted her arms, were attractive. The swipes from the backs of her hands across her forehead, or even the covert decisions to unclothe her skin of those sweat-dried graphic shirts and fashioning them into facecloths and raveling back inside them before anyone could glimpse, made you lustful; sweating from the sight. Sunlight was upon her like a heliograph, yet you were the true bitch in heat.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓:

You only ever got together in the late autumn wrap-up of your project. Every prosaic interaction boiled to a point, and for both reaching, yearning hearts, it became too hot to handle. One had bent under the pressure and paltered for courage you couldn't even pry from stone: Ellie, baby-blue plaid and ripped-jeaned on your doorstep—with a bouquet.

Getting you to come to her place was the be-all and end-all to this relationship, and you are fucking glad it is. Learning more about the girl who already ticked all the boxes on being the perfect hitch to your perfect trailer, is exhilarating. Turns out, the endless commodities of nature fit into the palms of her callused hands, are weld into more than only houses. While a handful of you—including some co-workers who freeload on an average—had your fills of old, Texan-style dishes, Joel brought up punctual beats about his daughter, which she cringed at. Wrinkled faces passed around the room.

“C'mon, Ellie. Why don't you run up there and grab yer' guitar you made? Entertain your guest with a song?” Ellie sneered, silverware in her pinch clattering. “Uh—first off Joel, she's not a guest. She's my—” Though complaining, she could barely writhe her words out. The craven, cringing look on her face suggested this was her first time hosting a special guest ever. The words ghost the press of her lips, and only make it out in quiet mumbles. “Date. She is.. my date.”

All the sentient sound in the room died after. Sure made it easier for Ellie to decide that a family gathering was not her style, regardless if you knew everyone, essentially. She was none the wiser, and wiped her plate clean in record time just to gallop her autumn valentine up to her room with sweet and silken things alike crawling in her mind.

Her whispers are lithe on skin. “Think you're like the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to me.” She had you kneeling into her love; sat in-between her barely-crossed legs, on the bed, close in a huddle and breathing into your neck. Telling you soft devotionals as if you're a bird born in shrouds that she gets to hold; her fingers trying to tangle with yours so that you may never leave. Capturing the memory like she captures a photograph. You spoke even softer. “Yeah?” The confirmation making her smile stupid in your neck. She replaces her teeth with a single, pulse-point kiss, smushing her nose. Everything is a no-brainer now that she has you to herself, for herself.

Of all trees in the forest: you are her one to carve. Ellie—the buried lover, the Ellie she kept swallowing inside, has crawled out at loathing last. This one is all-loving, eating the empty spaces that cling to your body: under the warming ears, in the pearl-shaped dip of your throat, each word that comes out. She creates little shavings of your body with the blades of her tongue, and is humming at the taste. Cleaning you, wetting your untouched skin, creating excuses for your clothes to come off.

Soon, her body is sweating upon yours; two lovers melting into each other. She drags you roughly into her mouth, arousing the bud of your nipple to stand to her lips. It hits her tongue, again and again, and is left with a wet shine. God, that fucking sight alone makes you cross your legs, and hope she does something about the uncomfortable nectar dripping down there.

She palms you about it.

“Fuck.”

In the most heavenless regions is where she shines. Literally, and figuratively. Shoving her face into the drenched secret of your spread thighs gets her soaked more than you predicted, or pictured. So when she opens her legs and pushes against you, it presses a premature moan out.

But it would not be alone. When her fingers snag and puncture in your hips, and her cunt—thick with an auburn bush—is smushing against yours, litanies of sounds spill out.

“Goddamn babe,” she huffs into a grunt, pouring all the attention solely on you. Her pussy is just lathering yours—pornographic, visual filth and more; the sounds are all you hear. “This is just what you needed, huh?” She hunches over your handled sillhouette, panting and wiping the thin hairs stuck to her lips. Her rosy face is afflcited by warmth, and shine, stare sleepy and soft. “Fuck—you look so pretty right now.” She said that, and it sounded like a revelation. With her lips curling, teeth showing, hips stilling and fingers trailing on you like you are a treasure, above and below the sea. You end up sharing the toothy smile with her. Then, her breath cuddles in closer. “Don't wanna hurt you,” She kisses your sensitive neck with a promise, unfolding the love letters in her heart. Quietly devouring your neck with wet mouthings and hot words that vibrate into your pounding one. She sucks in a sibilant breath before she continues. “But it's fucking hard not to go insane when you're so fuckin—” She stifles, and her lips pinch your skin; her intentions to mark you so obvious. She could finish you with this alone. “Mhh, so pretty babe.” How she handles you makes you feel pretty.

Customer relationships being the priority makes your pleasure her priority—in a determined tussle. When she manhandled you into some debased position; face down, ass up, you never expected her subsequent decision to put herself at a low level, too. She sits behind you, and the hand once so delicate in practice upon your face is pushing your thigh to make room for herself.

You could say she was the one being debased on her own accord. Her tongue took long, starving strokes of you, licking your pussy from behind. It drips off her tongue, down her chin, gets inside her nostrils. She whispers how much she loves it after doing it, chanting it.

Spanking is also a no-brainer. Something about the impulse gets her going. She whacks her palm across and immediately sinks her fingers in until it soothes, laughing like a fucked-out, pussydrunk maniac when your muscles shiver—her favorite part.

Will finger you if it means showing off those spire tattoos; she knows how bad you keel for them.

“God, she's just swallowin' em up.” The heads of her fingers push in, ease in and ease out. She slides out, and paints your entrance with the arousal coating her intricate digits in circles, intending to be as unapologetic as possible with it, and the sounds. She proudly chuckles when you whine. “Yeah, hear that?” “Mhm.” She made you infatuated with them, if anything.

She would give you another child, and compose all the needed furniture from scratch—if she could.

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony drabble no1. new neighbor

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ drabble summary. you visit your new next-door-neighbor's house to welcome him to the neighborhood only to find issue with the fact that's he's insanely hot (note to any potential new readers: you can read this before starting the main storyline if you'd like!)

ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ words. 2.4k

a/n. hiiiiii welcome to this first ihm drabble!! i just had an idea of writing a small scene of when ihm gojo & reader first met so :0 cracked this out in an hour. hope you enjoyy!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 (pending)

There were a great deal of possibilities you had expected to see when you rang the doorbell to your new next-door-neighbors house, but none of them were quite what you had ended up seeing at the front door when it had swung open.

Perhaps it could’ve been a newlywed couple, looking stressed beyond belief with thin lines under their eyes over the agony that comes with moving into a new home with a partner. It could’ve been a teenager, possibly a broody one, because your parents moving the family out to some random town right in the middle of your high school years would’ve made any kid emo. Or it could’ve been an old wrinkly man, grumpy and a little sore to the eyes and entirely too irritated by someone ringing his doorbell because it fucked up the frequency transmitter on his hearing aids.

Instead, when the door flew open, your neck craned up to meet the eye contact of the most stupidly hot and handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Well, at least certainly in all of this smalltown in Dayton county. They don’t build men like that here. With stunning blue eyes that stare deep into yours, hair that’s boyishly shaggy yet looks so soft at the same time, tall, muscular, broad shoulders. And the soft cotton of his pajama long-sleeve shirt with the matching plaid pants clinging to the curves of strong biceps and thighs has you full-fledged staring at this—…dare-you-say, incredibly husband-material of a man.

You almost forget you have a boyfriend for a second. And, for the record, your boyfriend is a sexy piece of ass too (Choso if you’re reading this please know that I love you very much and Gojo would have to fight a feral bear to steal me away from you). But, god, was it a crime to find another man attractive occasionally?

He blinks at you, eyes wide like he was equally as shocked to take in the appearance of you. You’re also sure the last thing he expected was a visitor right now at 2:33pm on a Tuesday, but you had finally seen all the UHAUL trucks pulled up in his driveway and the men moving furniture into his house leave the neighborhood, so you felt now would be a good time to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” he finally says to you, rubbing the back of his neck like it’s sore, “uhh…can I help you?”

You’re momentarily speechless. “Oh! I’m—” you take a pause to breathe because words are suddenly unspeakable without at least a gallon of air in your lungs, “I’m y/n, I live next door.” You point to your house. “I just saw you moving in and so I…wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!” You hold out the paper plate wrapped in tin foil that you were holding. “I made some pumpkin bread for you.”

The corner of his mouth curls up slightly, eyebrows raising pleasantly. “Oh, that’s really sweet, thanks,” he says with a tone that suggests he’s surprised by the hospitality and you briefly wonder where he’s moved here from. He takes the plate from you and balances it on his palm.

An awkward silence.

“Uh, did you wanna—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind himself, “did you wanna come inside?”

You blink at him.

“I mean, the place is kind of a mess right now, but—”

“Yes,” you cut him off.

He smiles at you, relaxed now compared to that hesitance from before, and he uses his back to push the door open more while stepping aside for you to walk inside, and walk inside is exactly what you do.

The house is a little cold, with no heater running, and incredibly empty. It’s pretty much the exact copy layout of your house, as all houses in the neighborhood are, except the color tones within this one are much brighter. The foyer is crowded with stacked cardboard boxes, some open and some not, with styrofoam sprawled all across carpet and hardwood, and you take a moment to admire the seafoam green loveseat pressed flush up against one of the walls.

“Got it on Facebook Marketplace,” he tells you, and you glance over at him to see him watching you assess his furniture, “lots of surprisingly good finds on there.”

You smile at him and stand up straight.

“I’m Satoru, by the way,” he says, leaning his shoulder against the door now before crossing his arms, “sorry, I don’t think I introduced myself to you earlier.”

“Ohh, no worries. You’re probably tired from moving in?” you ask, trying not to feel awkward in this essentially-a-stranger’s house.

“Very,” he laughs.

“What made you move here?”

“Oh, just, uh, my job. My family’s out here too, so figured it’d be nice being a little closer to them. But I was in a bit of a rush to close on something out here, so I just bought the first place I could find.” He peers in towards the house, eyes darting across his empty dining room. You notice slabs of deconstructed wood are leaned up against the wall. “But it’s nice. Neighborhood’s nice too.”

“Oh yesss we have wonderful people maintaining it!” you tell him.

He flashes you one of those smiles again. “You’ve lived here a while?”

“Yes! I was born and raised here, actually,” you say and then point a finger in the direction of your house, “that’s actually the only house I’ve ever lived in.”

His eyes widened. “Wow, that’s rare.”

“Yuppp. Just my mom and I now.”

“Oh, is your mom the one that was out gardening yesterday?” he asks. “Pulling out weeds on the edges of the driveway?”

You sigh. “Yes. That’s her. Er, at least I’m pretty sure it is, because I always tell her not to garden anymore, but she never listens to me.”

He lets out a well-meaning scoff, and you wonder if he’ll ask you more questions about it, but he lets the conversation settle into a silence instead. You discretely steal a glance at his left hand when he untucks it from his crossed arms to scratch at his jaw, and you notice there’s no wedding ring on his finger.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asks.

You blink at him. “Oh, I—…sure.”

He leads you into the kitchen, which you notice is mostly set up with all the appliances out on the counters and glass cabinets filled with ceramic sets of mugs and plates. He has an espresso machine set up in the corner of the stover counter, and you follow him right up to it.

“Woooow an espresso machine, I’ve always wanted one of these.”

He flits his gaze to you with a smile on his face before he grabs the handle of the portafilter, twisting it to release it from the machine, and then he presses some button that pushes steam out of it. “It’s worth it if you’re a daily coffee drinker.”

You sigh, leaning your elbow on the counter as you watch him. “Oh, I survive off of coffee, please. I work as a night shift nurse at the ED over on Main Street, so I need all the caffeine I can get.”

“You’re a nurse? That’s good to know,” he says, measuring out beans on a small digital scale. You turn to face him a little more, entirely intrigued by the process now. “If I’m ever in a life or death situation, can I give you a call?”

“If you’re still able to give me a call, then you’re not in a life or death situation.”

He gives you another one of those smiles, a little cheekily lopsided this time, like he’s really enjoying this conversation with you. It’s probably something that’s pleasantly mentally stimulating to his exhausted mind as he’s likely spent the last three days or so talking to no one except the UHAUL truck people and the melancholic memorabilia within his boxes of stuff. It was as easy as any small talk could be, this conversation, and it’s coming a little too naturally for your own liking as well.

He puts the beans in the grinder, and you hear a whirring sound as they are ground into fine particles that release a rich aroma of bitter into the air.

“This seems awfully tedious. I take back my desire of wanting an espresso machine,” you comment, pushing your knuckles into your cheek now as you perch yourself up by an elbow on the counter.

He laughs as he sifts the grounds into the portafilter, breaking up any clumps, and then he twists it onto the espresso machine before placing a mug underneath it. “Yeah, there’s a steep learning curve with it, but once you perfect it, it’s pretty easy. A lot can go wrong that can affect the quality of the shot though, for sure.”

“Like what?” you ask, a little too interested.

“Uhh, you can over extract, which leaves kind of a bitter taste, or under extract, which makes it taste sour. Usually depends on the ground size or the tamping. Plus, when you switch beans, you’ve gotta experiment on the settings all over again.”

You hear the whirring of the machine plus the delicate steady drip of the espresso into the mug. “I have a headache just listening to that. Why bother at all?”

He nods his head slowly, glancing at the watch on his wrist, and after a set amount of seconds has passed, he turns the machine off then peers into the mug. “Well, taste it and see if it’s worth it,” he says, handing the mug to you.

You take it from him, the fragrance of coffee immediately making your mouth water. And you take a delicate sip of the coffee, a slight bitterness hitting your tongue followed immediately by sweetness from the crema that has your eyes widening.

“Oh. Oh wow. Incredibly worth it,” you say.

He laughs. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Gosh no, I’ll just have it like this, please.”

You both chat a little bit more as he makes himself a cup too. You notice that he has his coffee black, as essentially an Americano, which he pours over ice in a shiny glass even in the cool of autumn. 

Apparently he’s a real estate agent, selling properties a little out further than the county line, in more posh areas than here. Like all those cliff-side homes you see when you’re driving further out of town and always sigh to yourself wondering if you’ll ever get to live in a pretty house like that someday. 

His parents live nearby as well as his younger sister’s family and he has a niece who’s four years old. And you want to ask so badly if he has a family of his own as well, but if he did, wouldn’t they be here with him? 

“Holy shit this is amazing,” he says through a muffled mouthful of the pumpkin bread you brought for him, “you made this from scratch?”

No. You used a pre-made mix. “Oh gosh, yes, I’m something of a little baker, if you will.”

He nods, letting out an indulgent sigh as he chews, eyes shutting close tightly in satisfaction of the taste and you find it amusing. He has a physical build that you could only assume requires an immense amount of discipline, but it’s kind of cute to see he’s somewhat weak for sweets.

You glance at the time on your phone. “Ah, I have to get going. I need to take my mom somewhere, but um, it was really nice meeting you! Hopefully I’ll see you around in the neighborhood?”

He nods his head, “oh, yeah, definitely.”

Your cheeks warm a little.

He walks you to the front entrance, and you briefly glance out the window into his driveway. “Oh. There’s a boat.”

He walks up right next to you, his arm pressed against your shoulder as he stands close, and you note that he smells so nice, like shampoo and clean laundry. The softness of his pajamas brushes against your skin and it makes you borderline dizzy.

Choso would be pissed off to the nines if he knew you were feeling things for your next-door-neighbor. Cut it out already, you think to yourself.

“Oh they finally brought my boat in,” he comments, “sweet.”

“That’s yours?” you ask, turning to face him in surprise, “it’s huge!”

“Yup, just bought it,” he says, shoving his hands in his pants pockets as he walks up to the window to peer out the blinds. “A beauty, she is.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not a she, it’s an it.”

“To you, maybe. But to me?…she’s so much more than that,” he says, but there’s some self-regarding hint of satire in his voice.

“Uh-huh,” you say, slipping your shoes back on at the door. “It’s kind of…lengthy though. Where are you going to park it?”

He shrugs. “Probably right out there. Where it is right now.”

Where it is right now?!?! The hull is dangerously close to the entry of your driveway. There’s no way that would be agreeable with you. How are you supposed to pull your car in?

“Um. I’m pretty sure I’d have difficulties pulling my car in if you parked it there,” you tell him politely as he opens the door for you and you step out onto the concrete step of his front entrance.

You turn around to face him and see him squinting his eyes at his boat with inspection of your concern. Sorry for sounding repetitive, but it's seriously shocking. The way he looks. The way that small little expression—his eyes narrowing, brows furrowing, bottom lip slightly jutting out, all paired with the haphazard way his hair falls over his eyes—makes you stare at him like he’s some Grecian sculpture. It was a little concerning.

But, at the end of the day, attraction is merely cognitive, is it not? A social construct, if you will. Something that can go away just as easily as it comes, and then arrive once more as easily as it went away.

A pattern you’ll eventually realize a lot with your new next-door-neighbor, Gojo Satoru.

“Nah,” he says, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of drabble]

a/n. alternate universe where they fuck on the marble countertop of his kitchen island on first encounter pls

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[grimmsbride]

ᬊ ᭣֤ࣨ🩸𖥔 ݁ ˖ TAKING OVER ME ཐི♡̵̼͓̥͒̾͘ཋྀ° LOSER! CHOSO KAMO

( you called for me and woke me up … )

video games are addictive, especially when said video game comes to life in the shape of something choso kamo has been craving for ages; a woman.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS ╲ choso really puts the “lose” in loser meaning he’s gonna be hella cringy & ooc. sorry to irk ya | switch choso | canon divergence (choso is human) | reader is a sentient ai | lowkey dom! reader | choso cums in his pants | #bringbackdryhumping | minor nipple play | inspired by giffany from gravity falls | odd plot line | rough sex | sloppy & needy choso | possessive & obsessive behavior | overuse of pet names | reader is a little manipulative | choso fucks his bishoujo game gf | again choso is a fucking loser | video game comes to life (?) | creampie | multiple orgasms | reader is depicted of curvy/chubby with darker skin | self indulgent | black coded reader | etc

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i got this idea after listening to whatsaheart & remembering that one giffany episode. i also have been seeing “loser!” fanfics and have been intrigued. as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

Hours spent within that chair, sinking into the leather whilst his eyes burned into the screen. One would be surprised how well the bedroom smelled given its’ inhabitants terrible habits. But it was simply a routine for the man; wake up, shower, go to work, come home, shower, and sit down for hours playing that same stupid game.

Choso Kamo doesn’t remember how he got so entranced by it in the first place. Before this, he was a gamer, but not to this extent. He didn’t get so lost in most first person shooters or story based novellas. But this one, this particular game seemed to plague his mind the moment it was downloaded to his pc.

It was an bishoujo game, the storyline entirely dependent on his choices and actions. The main objective was capturing the heart of this beauty known as [Full Name]; someone that stole Choso’s eye far too quickly. He wondered who exactly was the artist behind designing her character; given it was completely flawless. Her sun-kissed skin shined in about every scene, body plump and always dressed in the prettiest outfits.

Plus her hair— always kept in curly braids, cascading down her back in such a delightful fashion the man wondered how it would feel between his fingers.

These thoughts continued to tug at his mind the longer he played, days turning into weeks, and soon months. Choso did feel shame at first. He’s only human after all, and any human is bound to be embarrassed by their own peculiarities. But soon enough that shame was washed away, the longer his eyes settled onto the screen. Choso doesn’t remember the last time he’s even looked at another game— nor did the man care. This beloved Bishoujo.. his beloved [Name] deserved all of his attention after all.

The day was long, filled with endless tasks that slowly began to overload Choso’s brain. He found himself sitting down at times, eyes pinched closed to hopefully find just a bit of solace. Work was always laced with constant stress, his attention regularly needed for assignments that coworkers could easily do. But alas, Choso never said a thing; simply nodding and walking off to complete it. Human interaction was its own struggle amongst the workplace.

But it’s not like it mattered to him, he got enough of it at home; infront of his beloved pc.

That seemed to be the only thing that pushed Choso forward these days. Being able to see [Name]’s face each time his pc started, how her smile lit up the moment he greeted her; features perfectly animated to the point Choso could practically feel her excitement radiating through the screen. She was all he needed now, a simple light in his life to get through even the toughest of days.

So it was only natural that the moment Choso was finished with work he was rushing home, practically tripping over himself to get through the door. With a quick shut and lock the man was tossing his bag to the side, hands reaching for his work uniform to began tugging it off. Routinely he walked towards his bathroom, bare by the time he reached to quickly hop in the shower.

Choso always made it a habit to bathe before seeing her. Delusional? Maybe.. as the ai couldn’t exactly smell him, but it always seemed to freshen Choso’s mind.

After showering the man quickly moved to his bedroom in his towel, drying himself completely before throwing on a simple pair of boxers, sweats, and a tshirt. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he made his way to his gaming chair, pressing the power button of his pc even before sitting down.

Once he did though, Choso’s eyes shined at the bright light of the screen the moment it booted up, fingers resting rather impatiently amongst his keyboard. Shortly after he typed his password in, hand swiftly finding his mouse and dragging the cursor over to that pretty little icon occupying a space on his hot bar.

It only took a couple of seconds for the game to start up, Choso’s heart pounding the moment [Name] came on screen. She was dressed in a simple white button, emulating a sleep scene where Choso accidentally woke her.

Despite this she only smiled, pressing her face into the pillow beneath her.

“Hi Choso..” [Name] sung in that dreamy tone, reaching out towards the screen. Choso was quick to respond, allowing the rest of the world to disappear in that instant. His only focus was her, his perfect [Name], his only objective making her fall more and more in love with her.

He didn’t care about anything else, nothing at all— not even the slight ache in his stomach from hunger. Obsession and addiction all mixed into one terrible, yet exhilarating combination.

Choso rode that high for about two hours before something.. happened.

“What the hell..” His breathing was bated, eerie as darkness invaded his bedroom. So in tune with his game, Choso hadn’t even realized it was thundering outside. Rain pelted down against his home, smoothed out with a sudden crackle every so often. The man quickly deduced his issue to the power going out, a heavy sigh escaping him. He tried not to be annoyed, especially when the game was getting so, so good. He simply hoped auto save was still in effect.

Choso debated on what to do in the meantime. He could sleep, this was the perfect time to after all. Though the fear of his power not coming back racked his mind; what if when he woke up it was still gone? Aside from the game, he needed his computer for emails and other necessities— plus having to move around in the dark just wasn’t as fun as it seemed.

The man lifted his phone, thumbing the case and debating whether to inform the owners of his building. Maybe a quick message will at least give him a time frame or in better scenarios; speed up the process. Choso was hoping for the latter, of course.

Opening up his phone, the gamer made quick work of moving over to his mail app. There, he began to construct an email; being as polite as ever whilst asking how long the power would be out. The subject read for about a single, simple paragraph; his eyes casing his screen every so often to assure his words were concise and civil.

With his attention completely gifted to his phone, it was no surprise the sudden illumination of his room completely startled him— Choso nearly leaping out of his chair, as his heart squeezed. However that fear wasn’t short-lived, instead it increased the moment his eyes settled upon his pc.

The device was still shut off, surely needing to be manually pressed. With the screen black, Choso could see his tired features staring right back at him.. along with, someone else standing right behind him.

The man quickly spun around in his chair, chest tight and breathing hard as what he saw seemed to disappear in thin air.

Choso’s mind was playing tricks, wasn’t it? It had to be! That or spending hours infront of a screen straight was catching up to him at the absolute worst time. It was probably time to go to sleep..

With a heavy breath the man slowly turned back, eyes fluttering and gaze landing on the woman currently sitting right on his desk.

The noise he let out was far from attractive let alone the way he practically flew back out of his chair was even less graceful. With a harsh thud to the ground, Choso groaned heavily, eyes closed and trying to self-soothe.

“Choso! Are you okay?!” A feminine voice practically yelled, the gamer hearing movement coming towards him amidst his pain. A shiver ran down his spine as cold hands made contact with his skin, his eyes spanning open to land on the person before him.

The person being.. you, [Name]. That beloved video game romance thats been on his mind for months.

Choso couldn’t help the pure shock invading his features, struggling to find words as his eyes ran down your form. This had to be a joke, some type of prank a person was playing on him. As, there was no way in hell you, were sitting right before him; touching him so delicately with concern and worry.

“Ho..” The words came slow, a quick nervous swipe of his tongue treading along his bottom lip. “How.. did you get in my house?” Choso finally managed, watching your eyes flick from his body to his face.

With an adorable grin your head tilted a bit, arm outstretched and pointing a manicured finger right to his pc.

“You suddenly left, so I got worried something happened. I came to check on you!”

The words came out so sweetly, and simple; Choso nearly forgetting how worrisome this truly was— and it certainly didn’t help you were suddenly breaching his personal space, slithering your arms around him to cuddle your cheek right against his.

“What..”

“I missed you Choso.” You mumbled softly, sliding a bit to rest your head against his chest. The frantic beating of his heart caused you to smile, head tipping to press your chin against him. You looked at him through your curly lashes, glossed lips parting slowly;

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? Trying to find the perfect time to come out and.. properly see you.” The words were laced with the sweetest honey, causing a shiver to trickle right down Choso’s spine. Here you were, the woman that’s been on his mind for ages and all he could do was sit back and watch; utterly helpless to your existence.

You tried to not let on how much this excited you. How each twitch, sharp breath, and shaky glance of his caused your heart to swell. But you weren’t so discreet, you never were; not with your beloved Choso.

You moved carefully, sliding to sit right in his lap whilst your hands dragged up his chest. His smell was addicting, freshly showered with a hint of mint and pine. You breathed him in deeply, coming closer the moment your arms wrapped around his neck so tenderly.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.. Always wondering how you felt beneath my palms.” You spoke, lips fixated into a little pout as you leaned forward, allowing them to graze the shell of his ear.

“You’ve ruined me Choso.. take responsibility.”

The sharp hiss of your words was the last thing Choso heard, while the next thing he felt was your lips on his. His heart was practically thundering at this point, eyes wide whilst a dark scarlet was painted across his cheeks. Choso’s hands danced about, unaware of what to do. He was clearly inexperienced in this department, stuttering thoughts debating on the proper course of action.

He didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. Shouldn’t he be more worried about your entire existence rather than this silly kiss? What were you anyway!?

All his thoughts seemed to dissipate the moment you kissed harder, your own pretty eyes peering open staring right at him. Fuck, you were dreamy; perfect just like on the screen. Why on earth was he thinking so hard? Here you were, right infront of him, giving him what he’s been craving for years at this point.

It was time for Choso to be a little selfish.

With shaky hands, Choso found your waist, fingers sinking into your flesh and tugging you just a bit closer. He couldn’t help the sense of pride he felt from the happy hum you released right into his mouth, the kiss getting just a bit deeper. Your lips moved with clear experience, taking the reins and dominating his mouth the moment his lips parted.

Choso couldn’t help the downright pathetic whimper that escaped him the moment your wet muscle met his own. He’s imagined what kissing felt like, but never expected for it to feel this good. You marked the dark cavern as your own, licking in spaces that caused the tingles to rush right between his legs.

The man couldn’t help his hips rising, bucking up into you and groaning heavily the moment he made contact with your perfect form. Within moments you were pulling back, a clear string connecting the two of you as heavy breaths fanned between the two of you. Choso shook as your hands found his hot cheeks, spotting the pretty grin pulling your bruised lips.

“Just from a kiss?.. Such a pervert, Choso.”

His eyes went wide at your words, struggling to find his own in defense. But unfortunately he couldn’t, as the moment those pretty hips rolled; he was lost— a complete stuttering mess.

“I..I’m— no..”

“Yo—you’re not?” You mocked sweetly, continuing to roll your hips, gliding your barely covered cunt right against his thick bulge. You leaned over, trailing your lips over his neck; stamping wet kisses and suck against his pale skin.

Focusing on your lips and grinds, Choso barely noticed your fingers sliding under his tshirt until they made contact with his nipple. His eyes shot open, fingers digging into your sides as he felt your two fingers twisting and rubbing against the little bud.

“[Name].. fuck—.. I—!”

You smile right into his neck, continuing the rubbing while increasing your rough grinds. Choso was shaking like a damn leaf at this point, unable to contain the moans escaping his throat. You were barely touching where he needed you most, yet he felt as if he could burst at any time. Normally his inexperience would be a complete embarrassment, but the man was far too focused on the pleasure instead.

You lead your kisses up to his chin, kissing his cheek affectionately and innocently as if you weren’t completely ruining him. “My handsome Choso.. You like this?” Your thumb swept against his hard, abused nipple, a breathy sigh escaping you as you continued your delicious grinds.

Unable to speak affectively the man could only nod, head leaning back against his wall whilst he bucked up into you. Moments of this intensity passed before a sharp groan thundered from his throat, Choso coming undone right there in his pants.

His breathing was hard, gaze hazy as he attempted to relax from his high. Choso felt you lay a kiss right to his nose, the sweetest encouragements falling from your lips shortly after.

“Did so well for me, Choso. Think you can do it again?..” You mumbled softly, hand falling from under his shirt to instead thumb against the waistband of his bottoms. Through a bleary gaze the man took in your features; how your previously sweet smile now resembled a more impish grin. You clearly enjoyed toying with his body, pulling out reactions he didn’t think were even possible.

Yet, Choso didn’t hate this; in fact, it only turned him on even more. Call him a masochist, maybe some freak— it didn’t matter. For, only for you, he would be anything; including putty that you could morph into just about anything you wanted.

With far too much enthusiasm he was nodding his head, your sweet laughter muting all negative thoughts instantly.

You slowly stood over him, smiling down at him as a perfectly manicured finger traced the air right about at his pants.

“Off.”

You spoke simply, fingers then hooking onto your panties. You watched as Choso — not so gracefully — practically rushed to push his bottoms down, revealing sculpted thighs and his hard length. Residue of his previous orgasm was present, coating his angry red tip and dripping down his entire shaft.

What a mess. You thought to yourself, a sense of pride escaping you that only seemed to worsen the moment you noticed Choso’s gaze completely fixated between your legs. He was practically salivating, fingers twitching right in his lap— probably desperate to touch.

You would gift him that right later, for now..

You descended back down, sitting onto his thighs with his length brushing up against you. With a gentle hand you were grasping him, eyes flicking to his face the moment a sharp hiss escaped him.

“So excited.. you want to be inside me so bad, don’t you— Choso?” Your head tilted to the side, lazy strokes being delivered to his weeping cock. He couldn’t help the pitiful thrusts up into your hand, fingers practically scratching as his thighs, as desperation resided right on his features.

“Ye..yes please.. I wan— fuck I want yo—you so bad—!”

You felt your own arousal trickle, deciding to end both of your sufferings right then and there. You grasped his length more firmly, scooting closer and lifting yourself. Lining him up with your entrance you slowly slid down, moaning out as your walls swallowed him carefully.

Choso would have burst right then and there if he wasn’t practically screaming at himself to hold it in. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt your fun. So with a tight lipped groan he felt all of you, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling.

His imagination didn’t compare, not one bit.

Soon enough he was fully inside, your arms finding his neck to tug him even closer. You smiled the moment his hands gripped your hips, leaning forward as the sweetest words were pushed right against his lips;

“I love you, Choso.”

Yeah, he was practically begging his body to keep it in at this point.

Through a shaky breath he uttered the same words, fingers digging right into you the moment he felt your hips move. If Choso thought dry humping felt good, the man could only describe this as downright euphoric. With each lift, his length only seemed to leave your cunt for a moment before you quickly dropped back down; enveloping him once again.

Soon enough that pattern, hard and fast; took over his entire body, his lips pulling away from your own to release the loudest moan. His head was lolling to the side, hushed swears escaping his throat. The man couldn’t focus on anything but you; your pretty moans, how you moved those hips so well, your slick walls squeezing him in deeper and deeper— shit you were driving him crazy in the perfect way.

You leaned forward, face digging right into his neck as you struggled to breathe. “Ha..h you feel so good, Choso— fuck!” You whined out, thighs slapping against his own in the most noisy melody. Your nails turned to dig right into his shoulders, holding on desperately like a much needed anchor.

Every so often you felt him meet your drop with his own thrusts, causing your mind to spiral and the sweet moans to release without a second thought. You couldn’t help the way your head was tilting back, thighs squeezing his body so desperately as the pleasure consumed you. You could feel your brain turning into utter mush, center pulsing desperately with an itch for release.

In the midst of the haze Choso could somehow focus, awestruck with the sight before him. He never thought he would reach the day where he laid with a woman, let alone someone as perfect as you. Your golden skin glistened with sweat amongst the illumination of his bedroom, your lips pursed as moans escaped you. It took a full moment for the man to realize it was all because of him; he was the one gifting you such pleasure. No one else, just Choso.

He couldn’t exactly help the joy thrumming throughout his entire body. So much so that the man wanted to give you even more.

Your eyes widened the moment you felt his hands fall from your hips and instead grip your thighs. You went to speak, only for a surprised yelp to escape you instead the moment Choso stood with you his arms. Still snug inside you, the man found the closest surface to lay you upon — his bed — all while sinking deeper into your wet snatch.

“Ch—choso..!” You gasped the moment he went deeper, feeling the bed sink on either side of you from his hands. With your legs hanging on his hips, Choso began to buck; pulling his hips back and forth experimentally for a moment— only for the uncertainty to wash away the moment you began to cry out.

“Sh..shit you feel.. so good!” Little tears began to build up in your eyes, hand turning and scratching at his bedsheets; curling them into your fists so tightly you would surely rip a hole.

Choso panted above you, black strands hanging in his face. Though the moment they invaded his vision the man was lifting his hand, running his fingers through them to push to the back. Finally your pretty features came back into view, causing his dick to swell even more if possible.

“Does that feel good, [Name]? So fucking wet.. you’re making a mess.”

You whined at his words, lips fixated into a pout as you couldn’t even think to respond. You could only wrap your legs tight around his waist, chasing that itch deep inside.

And as that bubble deep in your lower stomach seemed to swell, moans, expletives, and his name came out in a drawn out fashion; tongue wicked and loose from the pleasure. You wondered if people next door could hear, probably annoyed by all the sound.

Even so, you didn’t care at the moment to apologize.

Choso brought himself to lay on his forearms, driving his cock deeper and stirring you up; tip brushing right against your g-spot— stars dancing in your vision. His heavy breaths fanned against your already hot skin, your hands rising to claw at his covered back.

“G—gonna cum, gonna cum— hm!”

With furrowed eyebrows Choso seemed to slam himself even deeper, chasing your voice and ever so desperate to make you finish.

“All over me.. please, make a mess all over me [Name].. fuck— you feel so good, I can’t think!”

Whimpers etched into his speech, his eyes rolled back the moment your cunt clenched, obeying his wish and making a complete mess of his cock. Shortly after Choso was driving himself forward, flooding you with his own orgasm— a deep groan escaping his abused throat.

Heavy pants were passed between the two of you, Choso coming to lay his face between your breasts, trying to relax from his high.

You breathed deeply through your nose, hands sliding to his hair and raking your fingers between the pretty, slick strands.

“I don’t wanna go back.” You mumbled softly, eyes flicking down to Choso who was already staring at you.

“Then don’t.. stay here, with me. Please.”

Your lips curled into a smile, sliding your fingers against his scalp.

“Of course, Choso. You’re mine and I’m yours— forever and always.”