#Plug & Socket Set

[nilbog]

i will do anything 2 avoid buying a laptop cooling stand. new bg3 setup is a baking cooling tray propped up by 2 stools w a fan underneath. finishing this durge run by any means necessary

[ledadvantage]

Plug & Socket Set

Established in 2010, LEDADVANTAGE is a proudly Australian-owned business dedicated to providing top-notch LED lighting solutions. As pioneers in the online retail space, we've been at the forefront of the industry, offering a diverse range of marine and caravan chandlery directly to customers since our inception.

[kerosene-saint]

I hate looking for a new computer mouse like. why is it this complicated and also why aren't you giving me the things I need. all I want is a silent, ergonomic, wired mouse. WHY IS IT ALL WIRELESS. I DON'T WANT TO WORRY ABT CHARGING MY MOUSE MAN THAT SEEMS DUMB.

[cupiare]

considered getting an ipad for drawing on the go but even second hand its a months worth of rent. Ok nvm i don’t like drawing that much anyway .. ❤️

[livwritessometimes]

F1 Drivers & Their Couples Halloween Costumes

: Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton, Pierre Gasly, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, and Daniel Ricciardo

: Main Masterlist

: Author’s Note - Ik I’m a little late, but I had terrible migraine and just could not bring myself to finish this. But here we are! Here are some costumes I think that F1 Drivers will wear with their girlfriends

…

Max Verstappen

- Was absolutely against any stupid costume but the moment he saw this, it was over for him.

- For someone who was not interested in dressing up, Max took an awfully long time to make the cat’s head.

- Tried to show his outfit to Jimmy and Sassy……ya let’s just say, it did not go as well as he would have liked it to go 🤭

Lando Norris

- I mean….do I even need to explain this one???

- Lando was the one who came up with the idea (shocker)

- Put more effort and dedication into making the boobs than he does in race strategy! (He’d like to call this costume his life’s best work)

Oscar Piastri

- After rejecting several costume ideas (which included salt & pepper, socket & plug, jam & toast) he finally gave in to this costume (not that he had a choice)

- Decided to be Pete (totally called McLaren to get the orange hoodie set)

- Wanted to truly understand the essence of the character (spent 20+ hours trying to memorise the rap)

Charles Leclerc

- Honestly….even Charles has no idea why he suggested this costume.

- He wanted to do something fun….so he asked Arthur for help (this actually explains a lot why he was dressed like The Simpsons)

- This costume really grows on him, especially the headpiece (the expression reminds him of his years in Ferrari)

Carlos Sainz

- Tbh he has no idea what he’s doing! He’s just happy to be included.

- He doesn’t have many opinions about the costume; he just likes the fact that he gets to be close to his girlfriend.

- Gets so many compliments that he’s already started planning for next year’s couples costume.

George Russell

- Made a bet with Alex about who can become the most iconic Disney duo….hence Darla and Nemo 🐟

- Is more than happy to wear an orange wig, plaid skirt and glittery sweatshirt…🤨

- Even called Toto and asked him to play the dentist as a way to gain bonus points.

Lewis Hamilton

- He would rather die than be caught in these tacky outfits….which is why he found the best costume to wear!

- Got the suits custom made from the best designers (yes the alien is also custom made 👽)

- Won the best costume award (are we even surprised tho 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Pierre Gasly

- Just don’t ask why….this is what Pierre came up with!

- Now you might think the girlfriend is dressed as the chicken. Well….YOU’RE WRONG!!!

- Pierre insisted on dressing up as the chicken (bonus: he even asked Yuki to dress up as a knife)

Alex Albon

- Made a bet with George and he knew exactly what he wanted to become!!

- Truth be told, Alex made one hell of a Vector.

- He was surprisingly good at putting on the bald cap for Gru….which makes you wonder this isn’t the first time he’s done this 🤔

Franco Colapinto

- He had no intention of dressing up but got invited by the other drives, so he had to come up with something QUICK!

- Voila! Did a quick google search and decided to dress up as the first thing he saw.

- Not the best costume but 8/10 for his efforts and last minute planning 🥉

Daniel Ricciardo

- Does this not look like a pose Daniel would 100% do!!!!

- He said #Green&Proud

- Tried a lot to convince Max to dress up as the donkey 🫏….ya it didn’t happen!

…

Tags: @wobblymug | @evasmlp | @ln8118 |

[octoberautumnbox]

The Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424

CLC/Kep1er Choi Yujin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, older girl, undisclosed age gap (nothing creepy tho), soft dom Yujin, titsucking, nursing handjob, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, overstimulation a lil bit

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: discordant waltz chapter alr planned out dw i just wanted to switch things up a lil, this was a blast to write :D 

“Hey, so good to see you! Come in!” 

You take off your shoes and Yujin pulls you in for a hug. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies fills your nostrils and sends your stomach growling. 

“Hi, Noona. It's great to see you again.” You back away from the hug, but Yujin keeps you within arm's length with her dainty hands on your shoulders. You admire her simple yet adorable outfit, which only compliments her bright personality.

“Take a seat, cookies are still cooling down but dinner is ready!” 

She plops you down at the dining table and sets your plate and silverware. While she buzzes from cupboard to table and back, you draw your eyes from one tiny dish to the next. Kimchi, lettuce leaves, cheese cubes, the works. At the center of the table is a small grill, with a pan sitting on top and evidently expensive cuts of beef like what they go crazy for in variety shows sizzling enticingly. 

You keep from drooling at the last second at the feast before you, and you manage to choke out, “Wow, are we expecting more people, Noona? This looks delicious.”

“No, just the two of us,” Yujin says cheerfully as she places your chopsticks at the right side of your plate. “Too much?”

“Way too much! You really pamper me whenever I come by. Thanks, Yujin-noona.” 

She chuckles cutely while covering her mouth with a finger. “You visit too rarely for a neighbor. Come by more often and I can tone down the food, okay?” 

She takes her seat next to you and squeezes your hand. Skillfully and quickly, she picks up a piece of beef from the pan, a leaf of lettuce, just the right amount of kimchi, a leaf of perilla, and finally a cube of cheese. She presents you with the expertly made wrap and brings it to your mouth, saying “Ahhh.”

~~~

She sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of you as you offer her the other half of the blanket. She joins you on the couch and shuffles right up to you, placing her head on your shoulder and bringing your arm around her. 

The movie starts playing and the necessary studio intro clips crescendo onto the screen. “This is one of my favorites. You'll love it too.” She snuggles more comfortably into your side and sighs a breath of relaxation. Squeeze her shoulder, tell her wordlessly that you're excited to love this movie as well.

~~~

You come to, and groggily you look around. It's of little help, as the TV shut itself off sometime ago and the lights are all out. You feel a shifting weight beside you and your face suddenly fills with a scratchy texture and the sweetest scent you've probably ever smelled in your life, no doubt a faceful of your neighbor’s hair. 

“Yujin-noona, wake up. We fell asleep and the movie's over.” 

You try to shake her awake gently, and it works. Yujin sits up slowly and tries checking the time on her phone. After the initial short-lived blindness, she sets it down and rubs her eyes. 

“It's late. Sleep over. No buts.” Knowing you had no choice, you submit and help her help you walk and stumble yourselves up the stairs and to her bedroom. 

She plugs a star-shaped night light into a low wall socket and the pair of you fall into the bed. You cuddle into her side this time and she graciously wraps you in her arms. The smell of her hair and her bedsheets fill your nostrils again with a calming fragrance.

However, in an act of dastardly betrayal, your brain for whatever reason thinks your sweet beloved neighbor Yujin-noona is… something more. As you take in more and more of her scent, and gaze up from her side to see the way her eyes are shut lighty and her lips are slightly parted as light snores slip through, your heart beats a different rhythm as if just now realizing and admiring the beauty that is Choi Yujin. 

“This can’t possibly be,” you think to yourself, “she’s my neighbor and very close friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.” You continue to fight down your subconscious feelings from bubbling up into your conscious mind, but the fullness of your tummy and the comfiness of the way you’re in bed with her prove it a challenge. 

“Something wrong? What are you thinking about?” You’re taken aback by Yujin’s sudden words. “Are you okay? Tell Yujin-noona what you need.” She rubs her eyes again and meets your gaze. In possibly the worst stroke of luck you could ever have had in this life, as she negotiates her hand back under the covers, she comes into light contact with you in the middle of you pitching a tent in your pants.

“... Oh.” is all Yujin could get out before you turn beet-red and stutter your apologies. 

“Shit, Noona, I’m so sorry! I- I should go- I’m sorry.” Your mind fills with shame at how you’ve ruined such a nice and pure friendship with your lovely neighbor. You try to stumble out from under the blanket, pushing Yujin away, but once again she places her dainty hand on your shoulder.

“Stop that right now. Come here.” Her command is mild but assertive. She lifts up the blanket to welcome you back, patting the space beside her in her bed. You sheepishly rejoin her under the fluffy covers, but before you settle, she makes another set of commands.

“This is my house, so for me to be a good host, you will tell me anything and everything you need. That includes this,” she whispers breathily, palming the growing bulge in your pants, “Most. Of. All.”

You can do nothing but whimper at her unrelenting touch. It doesn’t help that she’s already fiddling with the waistband of your underwear and wrestling it out of her way. What’s worse, your position in bed with her makes it impossible for you to look anywhere but to meet her eyes, or maybe…

“Use your words, baby boy, tell Noona exactly what you need.” An evil grin forms across her mouth, painting her features with a sinister shade of lust. 

“Noona… Could you please…” The words barely struggle out of your mouth, and even then you’re not saying anything of value. Yujin only chuckles more, covering her mouth with one finger, before prodding you incrementally yet ever closer to the edge.

“I can’t read minds, baby boy. You’re going to have to do better than that.” 

“Noona, your… your top, please. Take it off.” Wide-eyed, you watch as she grabs the piece of clothing by the hem and starts pulling up. Her belly button comes into your view as she goes on tantalizingly slowly revealing more of her creamy skin to your hungry eyes. 

The top then clears past her ribs, and she slows down ever so slightly, keeping you on the edge. You choose to relieve some of the pressure in your crotch yourself by stroking your dick to the unbelievably lewd sight, but Yujin has other plans.

“No, bad boy. Only Noona gets to play with that tonight.” In saying so, she lets go of her top, covering everything she showed you so far, to swat your hands away from masturbating. A deep sense of regret fills you, knowing that only you could be blamed for delaying your pleasure. However, Yujin seems satisfied that you learned your lesson and resumes her striptease.

She reaches a critical point in her teasing, bunching up all of the fabric so far right under her boobs. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, and you fight the urge to just dive into her tits and ravage them to your heart’s desire. She relishes in the burning gaze you’re subjecting her to, as if getting off to being ogled by her neighbor and best friend. She grows a few shades redder in the face to match yours, but ultimately she pulls her top up past her breasts, freeing them and letting them bounce. With the top now only covering her neck and shoulders, she opts to tease you more:

“Like what you see?” she asks sultrily while winking at you. She cups each of her tits with her hands, presenting them to you, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard for you. Yujin takes her lower lip between her teeth, obviously growing more and more aroused at the thought of letting you take her right then and there.

You try to find some spit in your mouth to swallow, but it’s dry as a desert and you’re left breathless instead. You swear that you could just die right there and be happy with the life you’ve lived so far, and with how your noona is treating you, you just might actually pass.

“Baby boy, I’ll say again: Tell Noona exactly what you need.” Her top finally leaves her body and she shows herself off to you. Her fingers snake through her hair and you’re blessed with an unobstructed view of the most luscious tits you’ve ever seen. 

“I want…” You try forcing words out of your mouth again, but Yujin makes the job (and you) so extremely hard. “I want to suck your tits.”

“Not with that attitude, mister. I am your Noona and you will speak to me with respect.” She’s got you now, her deadly scold wringing your neck and cutting off what little airflow your lungs had. You’re left with no choice; submit to her will.

“Yujin-noona, please let me suck your tits, please…” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, anticipating the imminent pleasure of her boobs on your face. It means the world to you when she places a hand behind your head and pulls you closer.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby boy? Say ahhh…” You follow her command and she gently pushes her left breast into your mouth. Her skin tastes delicious, and her nipple is just the right stiffness to lick and nibble and worship.

She guides you to a more comfortable position, and you find yourself laying down while Yujin is on her side, still with her boob in your mouth, while she pulls your arm towards her right boob to fondle and grope as you please. 

“Is my precious baby boy comfy?” she asks much too cutely for what she’s making you do to her. “Yesh noona, ahm conhfy…” you mutter out with your tongue still wrapped around her nipple. 

“Good boy…” she moans breathily. While you’re taking your fill of her perfect body, she makes her desires known: she wants you too. 

Yujin finds your cock again and strokes it through your pants. “Baby boy, do me a favor, would you?” Her request makes itself apparent with the way she’s reaching under your waistband, and you could do nothing but oblige and strip yourself as quickly as possible of both pants and underwear.

“My perfect baby boy…” Her tone is laced with venom as your musk reaches her nostrils. She places a fingertip on the slit of your cock and spreads your precum all over the head. “What I’d give to do to your cock what you’re doing to my tits right now…”

Her pace speeds up, and while you have half a mind to ask her to slow down, you know you have no right to ask her of that. Instead, you go for the next best thing.

“Yujin-noona,” you surrender, her breast falling out of your mouth and onto your cheek, “could you please let me fuck your pussy?”

She chuckles again, but more evilly this time. “Of course, my sweet baby boy, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead.” 

“Anything for you, Noona.”

She places you properly down onto the bed, making sure you’re comfy, and plants a kiss on your cheek. She forces you to watch, with a hand on your cheek guiding your face, as she peels off her shorts to show you more of her skin: her smooth legs, creamy thighs, and plump ass you now have the pleasure to grope as much as she’s willing to let you. She climbs on top of and straddles you, the large wet spot on her pink-and-white striped panties nearly leaking her juices onto her thighs, before she takes your hard and throbbing cock into her hands again. 

“Will you be my good baby boy, sweetheart?” She spits into her hand and rubs it all over your dick, causing you to groan in pleasure.

“Yes…” “Yes, what, hmm?”

“... Yes, noona, I’ll be your good baby boy…”

“Perfect, just what I wanted to hear.” She pulls her panties to the side and rubs the head of your cock against her soaked folds. The heat radiating from her sex spurs you on even more, the delayed gratification of slipping into her causing your breaths to heave. Yujin takes on sharp inhales and slow exhales as well each time she teases her clit with your head.

Deciding to finish teasing you, Yujin finally gives you what you’re craving. She sinks down slowly onto your cock, making sure to feel every single vein inside her. Her descent is slow and deliberate and you watch as more and more of your length slips past her pussy lips and into her tight cunt.

“Ffffuck, baby boy, you’re going to split me in half with a cock like this…” 

It starts to overwhelm you: the warmth from her slick, the tightness of her cunt, the clenching of her walls against your cock as if desperate for a climax as early as this. You surely want your noona like this for much longer than just a few seconds more, but you’re in absolutely no control at all.

“Baby boy, tell me if you’re close, okay?” You nod furiously, and Yujin drops herself violently onto your crotch, pushing every last inch of your cock into her cunt. “Ah, fuck! Yes, baby boy, fuck me with this thick cock of yours!”

Grab her tiny waist, feel her smooth skin, pull her up ever so slightly. Then, pull her back down onto your dick, feeling her walls clench around you so needily again. The pair of you find a rhythm, and not long after, Yujin herself bounces up and down on your shaft like a pogo stick.

“Shit, baby boy, you feel so fucking good!” She somehow finds little adjustments that push you deeper and deeper into her cunt, and in turn you hit her good spots more and more. It gets progressively more difficult to keep from creampie-ing her right then and there, but you fight for more time to receive her love.

With every thrust into her core, Yujin falters ever so slightly. You notice between her lewd moans and grunts that she’s arching forward, slowly but surely bringing her closer and closer to you. Eventually she gives up trying to stay upright, and she falls forward only to catch herself with her elbows planting deep into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Tempting, no? Hah, hah, come on, my sweet, good baby boy, give ‘em a little suck.” Barely registering the lewd words coming out of her mouth, you take her right nipple in between your teeth. Tug respectfully, but tug hard. The sensation of your teeth on her sensitive nub drives her insane, bringing her to the heights of her pleasure, and somehow even higher still. She lets you know just how blissful she is with groans and pleas you can’t help but indulge.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me! My god, yes, please, harder,” and many more nonsense filler words spill from her mouth while you fill her cunt again and again and again. The more she rides you, the more her sweet and tight cunt leaks her juices all over her bed, causing the wet spot to make itself known to you once it grew big enough under her. At the same time, you struggle harder and harder to get your own body under control, fighting back your orgasm for just a bit more time with her like this, just a bit more.

“N- Noona, it feels so good, you feel so fucking good on my cock, Yujin-noona…” You’re completely at her mercy, and her mercy is heaven. With every bounce she makes on your cock you grow harder and hornier for her, only to be welcomed into what might be the wettest, neediest, fullest pussy in the world. You can’t get enough of her: not your cock pistoning into her cunt and poking at the entrance to her womb, not your mouth sucking and biting desperately at the flesh of her perky tits, not your hands roaming all over her body and groping every part of her you can. 

“Baby boy, you’re making Noona feel so fucking good too,” she confesses hazily, and only then you notice that her eyes are falling half–shut and her straining to keep riding you. Her thighs are jiggling with her trembling core, and you figure out that she’s been spraying her girlcum all over your crotch for who knows how long now. 

Her pussy only serves your cock so much better now, wetter and slicker and definitely tighter with how her pussy refuses to let you go. The feeling of her hips convulsing against you almost nearly pushes you over the edge yourself, you’re trying so hard to hold off, but she’s so cute and caring, and she’s so fucking hot…

“Noona, I- I’m so fucking close, Noona!” But Yujin is long gone, lost in her continuous orgasm, doomed to keep leaking from her cunt and mouth and riding you without her better judgment to stop. Wherever Yujin is in the confines of her mind must be drowning in pleasure to keep fucking herself on you like this.

You’re gone too, as even though you know it wouldn’t be that hard to pull her tight body off you yourself, you’re completely in love with the idea of cumming just like this. Your cock buried deep inside your friendly neighbor Choi Yujin, who fed you, hung out with you, treated you like a real brother, only to take advantage of her dazed state of mind to paint her velvet walls white with your cum, filling her to the brim with your baby-making seed, subjecting her to the motherhood of your child…

“Baby boy, do it, shoot all of it inside, sweetheart. Fill Noona up. It’s okay.” On primal instinct, you let out a low growl and grip her ass roughly. Only now do you notice how much she was moaning loudly right into your ear, tinnitus ringing a high-pitched and dizzying tone that wouldn’t stop. Your arms and legs burn with how hard and fast you’re manhandling Yujin’s body, fucking her like a wild animal that knew nothing but sex. She hasn’t stopped orgasming, you feel her slick spread more over your crotch. Her elbows finally give out and she collapses onto you, fully vulnerable to you.

“I’m Noona’s good baby boy” is your last thought before your orgasm takes over your mind. Thrust deeper than ever into her core, shoot your seed straight into her womb. Her strained voice makes one final effort to scream her earth-shattering ecstasy as each spurt of your spunk shoves itself into her, eventually forcing her cunt to leak both her and your cum out in globs. You even lose yourself in the throes of pleasure and forget that you might be hurting her; all you need to know is that her body is yours to use and breed as you like. Keep pistoning into her all the while your cock sprays your love deep into her fertile body, one spurt, two, three, five, eight, eleven, before you lose count and just focus on feeling good with your cute and caring noona. 

Once the world stops spinning and calms down, you find yourself dizzy and gasping for air through a dry-as-a-desert mouth. With fatigue plaguing every part of your body, you can’t even find the strength to get into a less uncomfortable position. Your eyes try to drift lazily across the ceiling, getting your bearings, but Yujin has one last command for you.

“My sweet baby boy, you did so well for Noona. Get your rest, baby.” She places her hand on your eyes, pushing them shut. She keeps her hand there, making sure you don’t open your eyes again while you feel her lips planting kisses on your face, trailing a line from your cheek to your neck. Finally, she licks and then nibbles your lower lip lightly, rewarding you for doing such a good job. 

“B-but what about the mess? And you might get preg–” “Shush now, let Noona worry about that, okay? Sweet dreams, baby boy.”

You stand no chance against her; your fatigue takes over your body and the calmness of the air lulls you into a sense of serenity. As the final nail in the coffin, Yujin refuses to get off of you despite your best attempts at pulling out and pushing her off. Without even realizing it, you fall deep asleep amidst her comforting weight, tender kisses, and soft coos.

~~~

a/n: i went into this fic blind actually. only when I was about half done did I think to check if yujin was actually good at cooking at all but turns out shes not :/

[freyaphoria]

this has been on my mind the wholeeeee daaaaaaaay 😩😩

ur bf yunho playing valorant, you suprising him by supporting him under the desk and when he's done, he thanks you by filling you up a few times 🥴🥴

Jeong Yunho, what are you doing to me 🫠😫

Hi! I'm sorry it took me so long to reply because I'm so embarrassed when writing smut :,)

Best Support

tw: SMUT! cursing, oral, thats it i think

wc: 890

"Yunho... I'm so bored." You were lying on Yunho's bed, checking social media for an hour because your boyfriend was engrossed in his favorite game again. You took another breath of distress as your phone battery ran out. You got up from the bed angrily and looked for your charger.

"Yunho, have you seen my charger?” He was so caught up in the game that he didn't respond. After looking around a little more, you remembered where it was: You had plugged it into the socket under Yunho's desk, since all the sockets in his room were occupied. You went over to him and tried to move his chair a little to the side so that you could reach down and grab the charger. But of course he didn't even move. "Yunho, can you move over a little?" He still didn't answer you as if he was in another world, but he must have heard what you said because he moved his chair a little to the left. You bent down, crawled under his desk, and unplugged the charger. Just as you were about to get back out from under the table, an idea came to your mind: If he's not interested in me, then I'll take care of him.

You began to gently caress his legs. You moved your hands a little higher to get his attention. Yunho suddenly pulled back and looked under the table at you. "What are you doing there, tiny?" You looked at him with your cute little puppy eyes. "Nothing, I was looking for my charger, don't mind me." Yunho chuckled and went back to his game. You went back to your plan and caressed his thigh. The gray tracksuit he was wearing wrinkled and became visible where his dick was when he moved his leg. Holding his knees, you spread his legs further and brought your face towards his crotch. Yunho fidgeted in his seat as you began to move your hands there. "Tiny, I'm in an important match right now. Can you wait a little bit?" You dug your nails into his thigh. "I came to support you."

Yunho lifted his hips to help you as you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down. "Well, you're not helping at all. You're going to make me lose the match." he chuckled. "If you dont want I can go." He let out a sharp breath as you teasingly ran your hand around his cock. "No. I definitely do." He opened his legs wider for easier access. You continued to tease him with one hand while clawing at his thigh with the other. Yunho was moving his hips impatiently, rubbing his cock in his boxers against your hand.

"How many minutes until the game ends?" He let out a small moan as you freed him from the becoming increasingly tight boxer. "11 minutes." You took him in your hand and stroked him, smearing his pre-cum all along his cock. "I'll give you the best head of your life in 11 minutes."

When you took it into your mouth, he cursed through his teeth. Yunho was so big that it normally took a while and a lot of preparation to get him completely into you and your mouth. But right now, you set aside all your gag reflex and aimed to take it all into your mouth. You moved forward until your nose touched his abdomen and you tried to breathe through your nose, but even that was impossible. When you thought you were ready, you started sucking him, moving your head back and forth. You were so wet too that if it weren't for your underwear and shorts, your juice would drip onto the floor. "Fuck, tiny. I must have trained you well. Now you can take me completely." He was having a hard time not moving his hips. He could barely focus on the game. The room was filled with Yunho's keyboard, mouse, and breathing sounds, and your wet, filthy noises. As you reached the tip of his dick, you pumping the exposed part with your hands and then took him whole inside your mouth. Your rapid continuation of the same rhythm made his head spin and the screen blurred with pleasure.

You realized he was close when he couldn't control himself and thrust his hips into you. Your saliva and his pre-cum dripping mixed together on your chest. When he saw that there were only 30 seconds left in the match, he thought he couldn't stand anymore, so he left the mouse, grabbed your hair, started using you however he wants by controlling your head, and you allowed him.

His legs shook as he came into your mouth and he ordered you in a deep-husky-post-orgasm voice. "Swallow it or I won't fuck you." You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to show that you swallowed. "Did you win?" you asked as you licked the remainings from your lips. Gently supporting you by your arm, he pulled you out from under the table, brought you to his lap and removed your shorts. "Yes I won thanks to you. Now I have to reward you, right?" He pulled your underwear aside and aligned his cock with your entrance. "Do you want to see how many rounds it takes before you faint?"

a/n: Hello! Pls give me feedback bec I'm not sure if I'm writing the smuts properly. Also, I would be very happy if you could give me some ideas♡

[a-leg-without-fear]

Fucked Up Leg

Wanted to throw my hat in the proverbial ring and try out writing about St. Matthew Murdock. This fic is a little dark as it deals with what I go through with my chronic pain. This is why I am Leg and leg is Me.

Ship: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 1,733

Warnings: cursing, depressive thoughts, talk of doctor visits, talk of dealing with medical issues, an extremely comforting and loving matt murdock

It was half past 9pm when your leg started aching. You sat on the leather couch with a book in your hands and a blanket over your lap. The billboard across the street shined blinding yellows and blues in through the windows, shadows chasing each other along the edges of your vision. The scent of the dinner you’d shared with Matt, fettuccine alfredo with roasted chicken, floated through the air and settled around you. You could hear commotion in the apartment below you. You assumed there were some new neighbors moving in with how much foot traffic there was, but you weren’t quite sure. You, of course, didn’t have Matt’s senses. 

At first, the pain was just a slight twinge, a dull ache. A deep rooted uncomfortableness that seeped from your hip socket and spread throughout your upper thigh. Knowing this was only the start of a quickly worsening night, you retreated to your and Matt's bedroom in an attempt to keep weight off your leg.

Matt was out on his nightly patrols. He had left at around 8, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and promising to be back before 2am. At the time, the firm deadline appeared a blessing. Usually you would be left in the dark as to how late Matt would be out. Hearing him give you a set time made you breathe a sigh of relief. Now, however, you thought of how far away that curfew seemed as you settled into your shared bed, bracing for the pain to get worse.

You laid on your right side, gingerly placing a thin pillow between your thighs. The little bit of separation between your legs tended to help relieve some of the pressure on your hip socket. You let your knees bend naturally as you tried to get comfortable. The lights from the billboard were less bright in the bedroom. Partially due to the angle of the beacon in the night, but also due to the paper you’d taped to the windows in an attempt to block out any and all light. You could feel the silk sheets slide against your bare legs as your shorts hiked up beneath the covers. You plugged your phone into your, thankfully, long cord that stretched long enough for you to use it on your side. 

You faced the bedroom door, the right side of the bed empty. Not intentionally, as you’d keep off your left leg anyway, but because Matt would lay on the side of the bed between you and any danger. He was sweet like that, always putting himself in harm’s way for you and others. You chuckled to yourself as you began scrolling aimlessly through your phone. You knew for a fact that if Matt could take your reoccurring pain and put it in his leg to give you relief, he would. He would in a heartbeat. Sacrifice his own fighting ability to give you a chance of being able to dance again.

God, you missed dancing. You used to go to dance classes every week, sometimes multiple nights in a row. Letting yourself flow to the music as you followed choreography, bouncing from foot to foot, swaying your hips, laughing when you would mess up. For years that’s how you kept active, kept busy, kept happy.

Until your leg decided to say “fuck you,” that is. The doctors assumed it was “just too much dancing” that did your leg in. What started as a tear in the cartilage in your hip joint spread throughout your thigh as other problems arose. Stress fracture in your femur, a worn ACL, torn muscles under your kneecap. A seemingly never ending list of problems made you debilitated, forcing you to use a cane and, in extreme circumstances, a wheelchair. The doctors tried physical therapy, medication, and even surgery. But the problems kept reappearing. You would have fine mobility and limited aches for a good few months, maybe even a year. But sooner or later that dull ache would find itself rooted in your hip. And you’d just have to strap in for a long ride.

About 10 minutes after you’d laid down the pain got worse. The ache turned into a sharp jab, like someone had stabbed you in the hip and kept the knife there, sliding and slicing to create waves of pain that lasted for minutes at a time. You clenched your jaw as you tried to remain focused on your phone. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t been through before. You could handle this. Of course it felt like a hot poker was stuck in your hip socket, but that was just a regular Tuesday for you.

Then the muscle above your knee twinged. A redhot spark of pain you could feel in your teeth. The pulsing shocks permeated throughout your entire leg, not just your knee. Stacked with the ache in your thigh it was beginning to be unbearable. 

Your phone fell from your hands as your eyes squeezed shut. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering and wincing. Nausea began to build in your stomach and your head began to spin. The muscles beneath your skin started to jump and twitch. You blew a sharp gust of air out of your nose.

“Fuck me,” you whispered. Why? Why, when things are going great, your leg practically lights itself on fire? Just last week you’d helped Matt take out a handful of bank robbers, dodging blows and landing punches like Black Widow herself. Matt had even been impressed at how well you maneuvered yourself. You kicked and squatted and jumped like there was no tomorrow. And not a muscle was out of place the next morning.

Laying in bed, arms wrapped around your trembling body, leg having a tantrum. All you could do was resign yourself to this neverending feeling of hopelessness. Will it ever get better? Is there some magical cure you just haven’t found yet? What are you doing wrong? You could feel yourself spiral in your depression, the minutes and hours blending together to become an ongoing existence of pain. It felt like a rock had sunk itself to the bottom of your stomach. Your heart was racing, anxiety coursing through your veins. Was this what would become of your life? You would be reduced to nothing, just a leg on fire attached to a motionless husk? Would you ever be able to dance again?

“Sweetheart?” a voice rang out from the living room. A familiar, tentative tone laced with concern. Your eyes snapped open to see Matt. Standing just beyond the doorway, all dressed in black, cloth mask in hand, chocolate eyes looking in your general direction. His dark hair was matted to his forehead from the exertion of his nightly outings.

You cleared the edge of pain from your throat, then said, “Yeah?”

Matt was kneeling in front of you on the bed before you could blink. His brow was so tightly furrowed you had the briefest thought it’d stay that way. Warm, large hands began flitting across your body.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Was someone here?” he asked in a flurry of questions. One of his hands landed on your jaw, fingers trailing across where your pulse flowed strongest. The other ended up tangled with your own as you tried to quiet him.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m okay,” you breathed. You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his bruised knuckles. Matt’s fingers held your hand tighter as he let his eyes fall closed, his breathing slowing. You knew this was what he did when he sent his senses out, listening and smelling and tasting and feeling your body better than you could. His awareness diving deep beneath your skin to seek out anything abnormal.

When his eyes fluttered open, his gaze landed on your chin and a frown settled across his lips.

“It’s your leg again, isn’t it,” Matt said, not posing the phrase as a question. He already knew the answer.

All you could do was nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You could feel the grief of decades of pain and sorrow build along the walls of your throat. Your breathing grew ragged as the tears broke free and slid their way down your flushed cheeks. What if he grew tired of you? Grew tired of constantly needing to take care of you, tired of dealing with the bursts of pain you needlessly endured. A man of his skill, his charisma, his fighting ability. Surely he wouldn’t want to stay with someone as encumbered as you.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Matt gingerly slid his arm beneath your head, letting you cuddle against his chest, as his other arm pulled your torso close to him. His body curled around yours, as if the pain you were feeling was an outside source and he was the shield that protected you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and breathed his comforting scent, cinnamon and smoke, in. Hot tears trailed their way from your eyes and stained his shirt.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, lips pressed to the shell of your ear, saying exactly what you needed to hear as if he knew. He slid one of his legs between your thighs, replacing the pillow that was there originally. At first the movement was a shock to your already agonized body. Then, the extra bit of space between your legs lifted some of the pressure on your hip joint. You sighed shakily against Matt’s neck.

The two of you remained that way, Matt’s leg between your thighs, his arm beneath your head, your face tucked against his neck, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into your side. He whispered sweet words of reassurance every now and then. Saying he loved you, he wasn’t going anywhere, he’d help you find a way to fix your leg. 

You knew that soon he’d have to get up to go to work. You knew he’d unwind his limbs from yours, would give you the softest kiss you’ve ever felt, and promise to be back with your favorite foods.

But until then, you would stay tucked in against your Devil. Your guiding light. Your comfort when things were dark. Your relief from a fucked up leg.

[tieronecrush]

so much wine

joel miller x reader

summary: christmas is difficult for joel, with and without you.

rating: M

wc: 2.8k

warnings: no outbreak, angst MAJORLY, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, acts of mild violence (NOT towards reader or any other person, it is toward an inanimate object), joel hating christmas, grief, anger, depression, big big feelings, mention of break up, sad joel, angry joel, resentful joel, reader trying to make christmas nice, um i may be forgetting some so if you notice any big ones lmk!

a/n: ya girl is always on her angst grind. ESPECIALLY around christmas cause....issues. hope you all find the means to enjoy this lil one shot based on one of the saddest but still incredibly beautiful christmas songs. here's the link to the song! tysm to @northernbluess & @kiwisbell for beta-ing and encouraging me to post this. love you both xx

“Tommy?”

“Hey, m’so sorry to be callin’ ya on Christmas Eve. I know…Well, I know this is probably the last thing ya wanna be hearin’ but I really need your help. It’s Joel…” The noise level on the other side increases with a gust of rowdiness, clueing you in that he must be at a bar. You press the phone tighter against your ear, listening to Tommy ramble off reasonings for your help interwoven with profuse apologies. Guilt hangs heavy inside of you, the soft music and glasses clinking in the other room a reminder of your own Christmas Eve plans. How it’s supposed to go every year. Peaceful, light, fun, full of love. Your holiday with Joel looked different. Full of love, yes, but overwhelming, stifling with grief.

“I’ll be right over, Tommy.” You can’t turn away, you can’t hang up and go back to your life tonight. Not with knowing how much pain Joel’s in.

The tree lights up as you stick the plug in the socket, your nightly task for the last month just as the sun sets. Clear, warm bulbs illuminate the otherwise dark living room, shining out to the street as a beacon of a lived-in home. Reflections of warmth bounce off of the shiny glass ornaments littered around the branches, heirlooms from your family, and some you’ve collected yourself. Combined with ones from Joel’s past. It’s not cohesive, but it’s a beautiful smattering of your lives. Pine wafts from the sappy center of the tree, filling the room with the scent of evergreen, tinged with the stuffy warmth from the central heat.

You’d decorated the tree on your own a few weeks ago. Joel helped you pick up the tree from the sale lot in the H.E.B. car park, strapping it down in the bed of his pickup. More than willing to help you get it inside, into the basin, and secure it tightly to avoid any accidents. But that’s when his assistance stopped. No humming along to the Christmas CDs you queued, no suggestions of festive movies to watch, no sneaking some Bailey’s into the mugs of decaf coffee you brewed to keep warm. Instead, he retreated up to your bedroom, shutting the door behind him and effectively shutting you out for the evening.

Tommy’s truck pulls into the driveway, dropping off Joel for the holiday after last-minute projects were tied off. Joel had mentioned grabbing a drink with Tommy, to celebrate another year gone by with their new business venture, Miller Construction. You didn’t think anything of it, wishing him a good day that morning and sending him off while you prepped dinner and baked cookies to bring over to your parent’s house tomorrow.

As you sit down on the couch, Joel fumbles at the door with his keys, finally getting them jammed in and the lock turned. He stumbles inside, tripping over his own feet despite his eyes being trained on them, grumbling to himself as he frustratingly kicks off his boots. You stand up to greet him, a warm smile on your face faltering when he looks back at you with a scowl.

“Need a drink…” he slurs, avoiding you completely in the middle of the living room, frown lit up by the tree. Joel treks to the kitchen, straight for the whiskey bottle that he takes a long pull from before filling a glass halfway. The amber liquid sloshes as he turns to look at you, holding out the crystal tumbler.

“You want some, baby? S’Christmas Eve! Everybody thinks it’s something to celebrate, right?”

It never snows in Austin, but driving down the highway with your windows down, it smells like winter. Crisp, cool air rubbing your cheeks raw, running your nose. Thin air, fresh. A medicinal feeling, like inhaling the menthols you used to smoke. It’s freezing, but you can’t bring yourself to roll up the windows, to close yourself into your car as you cruise on the open roads. Everyone’s tucked away at home, with family or friends, while you drive towards something as familiar, but much more grisly.

Christmas carols crack over the stereo, painting visions of picture-perfect holidays, the feelings of joy, love, belonging, and warmth that you’ve craved for him since you met him. Something you so desperately wanted to drip back into his life from your hand, dribbling water to a lightless soul.

The glass is empty now, bottle as hollow as Joel’s eyes look. He stands in front of the tree, studying the decorations with a freshly opened bottle of wine in his grip, one you were meant to bring to your parents tomorrow. His brows haven’t relaxed, not one stitch unsewn since he walked in the door. Mumbles of anger have rolled from his chest, never directed toward you, but aimed at the world around him. At the holiday. At the lack of presents addressed to his daughter under the tree, the missing duties of playing Santa.

You met Joel after Sarah passed. He spoke about her often, telling you all about his little girl who was funny, bright, bubbly, better than him in every way. She’s been gone for a handful of years now, the tragedy worn on Joel’s face and in his curls; aged and grayed. He was still so handsome, still held a smile for you despite the deep, open aches he feels the pains of every day.

Never having a holiday with him, you didn’t know that this is ‘just how he is’. Tommy had heeded some warnings to you, had called you in a whisper as he pulled away from the house that evening with apologies — ‘I tried to cut him off, but when I left for a minute to go to the bathroom, he’d gotten the bartender to pour him another double…I tried to take it, but he wouldn’t…’

You expected feelings these days, this month, the whole season. How could a father not miss his only child when the rest of everyone’s happiness, luck, blessings are thrown back in his face? But this…this was a different Joel. Someone angry, someone cursing his own existence. He fumbled around the living room, shoving the coffee table when he bumped into it, picking tinsel off the tree and tossing it to the ground.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea to intervene. To attempt to talk him into bed, or at least into eating something and laying down on the couch. Other issues to address in the morning when he was sober.

Now, you know that was a mistake.

“What do you want from me? What does my brother want from me? Am I just supposed to get over it so everyone can have their merry little Christmas?” His voice strings words together, his drawl thicker with inebriation. Wine splatters across the kitchen tile, Joel’s arms swinging around as he speaks with his hands.

“No one is ever asking or expecting you to get over it, Joel. We just—I don’t want you to be like…to feel like this. Sarah wouldn’t want you to—”

He doesn’t raise his voice. Joel never raises his voice. The calm chill of his voice sends a wash of anxiety over your entire body, words punching clear now despite his physical state.

“Enough. Don’t even say that 'cause you wouldn’t fucking know.”

The freezing air fills your lungs, choking out as it stifles your inhale. Strong heaves of breaths expand your lungs before they squeeze out with sharp exhales, the coughing fit morphing into sobs. Tears blur your vision, flowing over your waterline and burning hot against your cheeks. Carving trails across your face with iron branding. Find the same paths of all their predecessors, all that came before them for the very same reasons.

You manage to pull off to the side of the road to compose yourself, parking near enough to your exit. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you open the door and tumble out, talking yourself down from hysterics. Wading through the thick emotions, the unresolved slashings of anger and frustration, the unanswered love.

Facing the midnight sky, twinkling spots stare back at you, reminding you of your size in the world. How large everything feels, how all-consuming. How it doesn’t seem to be felt all the same by the one person you want it from. Need it from.

Struck with a flash of a star falling against the black backdrop, there’s a brief moment when you think it’s Santa Claus. In his sleigh pulled by reindeer, riding around to deliver joy to families across the world. Another reminder of how small you feel. How much like a kid you feel. Unsure of where you stand in his life, uncertainty facing your future, undecided in what is the right thing to do.

The sky kaleidoscopes in your watery eyes, small shining bursts gazing back at you. And your first thought is how similar they look to Joel’s eyes that night. Sad, glossy, shimmering with anger that sat long enough to finally introduce itself as grief.

You stayed out of the way after that. Let him drink himself into a hole. Dinner is left untouched until the later evening when you wrap it all up and store it away in the fridge. Noting another bottle of wine gone from the cabinet.

Joel’s corralled upstairs with less persuasion the drunker he’s gotten, craving the comfort of your shared bed the closer he gets to passing out. He trips over his feet while you walk behind him, a hand pressing into his lower back to direct him. Hiccups shake his body. Teeth stained red. Life sucked from the day, no more chances at honoring memories, no more magic left to make something special for Joel. Nothing that can sprinkle some goodness into his life.

He’s got an iron grip on his resentment, on his rage. Understandably.

But that grip drops his hand from his happiness, from his comfort, from his remembrance. It all slips through his fingers now, grains of sand falling through the lines in his palms, the ridges of his fingerprints. What was so ingrained in him, years ago with his daughter, days ago with you, is easily forgotten as the monster of misery uses your kindhearted man as a vessel. Rendering him unrecognizable.

Taking in his sleeping form, fully clothed and half covered with a quilt. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, his coping catching up with him to finally receive the desired effect — feeling nothing. Turning his brain off completely, emptying him to float in a void for at least one night.

His lips parted with slow, even breaths. Brows relax, falling back to lift his eyes, despite them being closed. Delicate eyelashes lay against his cheeks, and you watch as a smattering of exhausted tears slip from the corners of his shut eyes. No more stubborn will to hold them back. The first real emotion you’ve witnessed all evening.

It’s another moment before you turn away, filling the empty glass at his bedside with water from the bathroom tap. Avoiding his soft sleeping form and your empty side of the mattress, you pack a small bag to retreat to your parent's house, a short note left for Joel in the morning inviting him over when he’s feeling up for it.

One last glance at him drives an ice pick into your heart, warm blood pooling around your feet matching the shade of red on his lips. It feels cruel, to pack up and leave for the night, but without knowing if this charade continues through the next day, you don’t quite feel like sticking around to find out.

The bar is busier than you would have thought, with a good amount of groups growing rowdy for the holiday. You imagine they are there drinking in camaraderie, in celebration. The opposite to your Joel. He’s slumped over the bar in his green flannel, hugging his broad frame that shields him from the joy raucous of the room.

Tommy stands next to him, hand on his shoulder in an attempt to draw him away from the wooden bartop, to get him away from the stool and the glass filled with amber liquid.

When the bartender greets you while you approach, Tommy turns toward you, sighing and shaking his head as he leans into his older brother to mumbling loud enough for your to overhear as you settle behind Joel’s seat, “M’sorry I had to do this, Joel, but you’ve got to get home…”

Joel grumbles, shrugging off his brother’s hand. When he’s turned to address his brother with a protest, he catches you in the periphery, reacting with a molasses-like double take. Angling in your direction from his perch on the worn leather barstool, his eyes widen in shock, and he swallows hard. The drink in his hand is left discarded on the bar top, Tommy signaling for the bartender to come by and grab it while Joel stands dumbfounded by the presence of you.

“Sweetheart…”

The name is a punch in the gut, recalling every other time it raised goosebumps in its wake while it was whispered against your skin, each time it was tacked onto a gentle tease, each time it was spoken in place of feelings he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, communicate to you.

Recovering quickly, you right yourself internally, rising tall and holding your shoulders back while tender kindness masks your anguish. A head shake draws up a watery expression despite your efforts, your smile plastering onto your expression. Joel frowns, seeing straight through the guise.

“C’mon, Joel. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Both of you stare at the hand of yours laid on his bicep, radiating heat from the contact that starts to melt the ice that froze your feelings for him in place those months ago. Joel is the first to look away, the burn of his saucer eyes drilling into your profile.

“No. No, I don’t need to—” he argues, always a mule.

“Joel,” you interrupt, voice thickened with sentiment, “please. I wanna go home. Let’s go home.”

The statement isn’t a lie. The furthest thing from an untruth.

It’s exactly what you have been wanting to say to him for months, feeling untethered and lost. You’ve been aimlessly searching for that same solace elsewhere. In other places, in other people. Nothing could compare. Joel is home. And all you want to do is return, to feel safe and warm and welcomed at home. To feel as if there is room for you there, that you aren’t driven out by the torment that tortures Joel, and in turn, you.

That’s what gets him to agree. The promise of home, with you there with him. The same piece he’s felt missing, the second heart of his home stripped from him because of his unwillingness to let up his grip on his anger and resentment. Because of his resistance to cradle his comfort, his contentment, his love for you.

“You wanna go home?” A nod answers him, rolling his actions into motion, “Okay, okay. M’gon—gonna take you home, baby. We can…I can give you your gift.”

“Sure, honey. We can do that in the morning,” you counter, the corners of your mouth turning up for a split second when Joel agrees.

His large form falls from the stool and into his brother when he attempts to get up. It’s a dance between the three of you to get him into your car and to his place. Tommy follows, there to drag him up the stairs with you behind, a hand on Joel’s lower back. He preens into every touch from you, glancing over his shoulder to check that you’re still there. That you haven’t left again. You can’t help but notice the living room illuminated by a Christmas tree, the smell of pine filling the house and the delicate glass ornaments placed carefully around the tree. He tried this year.

You do stay. This time you’re sitting with it all, ready for the confrontation of the next day. With Tommy gone, you and Joel are left alone with each other for the first time in months. In your old bedroom of all places.

Joel sits at the edge of the bed, head hanging in shame while you kneel in front of him, tentatively laying a hand on his knee.

If this time is going to be different, you need a reason to stay. A single brick taken out of his walls, the signal of the start of a wreckage that you will happily clear so long as you can have your Joel feel like a semblance of himself again.

“You’re always gonna see the bottom of your glass, Joel. Nothing can save you from that, not even all the drink in the world. It’s all still going to be there. You have to decide to face it.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds filling the room are your slow breaths in sync with each other’s. Joel picks his head up, angling it to look down at you directly. Tears have carved channels into his face, fight leaving his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak in a rasped whisper.

“Sarah always loved Christmas...”

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

[brattyfork]

can’t

summary: you’re having a hard time getting off, matt offers a solution

warnings: THIS IS SMUT, but there’s nothing crazy, this is pretty long tho

when i broke up with my boyfriend, i knew it’d be hard, knew it would take a while to get over him. what i didn’t expect was how much i missed him sexually. the whole time we were together i didn’t masturbate, i didn’t need to, if i was horny i just went to his house and he helped me. this leads me to where i am now, desperately trying to get off after almost two years of not touching myself. i tried everything, watched porn, read books, even bought like four different toys and nothing could get me over the edge.

i had just finished watching a pretty steamy movie with my roommates, three triplet brothers. i suggested the movie, not realizing how much sex was in it, the boys didn’t seem to mind too much. chris was on his phone, his head snapping up every time he heard a chick moan. nick had his headphones in watching tiktoks but matt was actually very invested in the movie. at the beginning, he was playing clash of clans on his phone but quickly got distracted by the movie and just kept watching. after the movie ended, matt was the only one paying attention. “im gonna go take a nap” i said, trying to sound as tired as possible. he just looked up at me, smiling and nodding as i walked away.

i figured now would be as good a time as any to try again so i got set up. got myself a water, grabbed my lube and various toys from my closet and pulled up pornhub on my laptop. i know porn rots your brain or whatever but at this point i didn’t care anymore. i grabbed my airpods off my bedside table and put one in my ear, so the boys couldn’t hear the porn but i could still hear them. setting up, i played one of the first videos i saw on pornhub, having no idea what to even search for, hit play and pulled my blanket over my legs, seeing as i had no pants on i was kinda cold.

while looking for toys, i stumbled across something called a wand, it had pretty good reviews so i caved and spent the hundred bucks on it. i plugged it into the power strip next to my bed and turned it on, it was loud but i figured the boys were doing their own things so whatever. i squirted the tiniest bit of lube on it, i was already pretty wet from the movie and i hated the greasy feeling of the lube. i flipped the switch and got to work, or at least i tried to. i was doing pretty good, the wand felt awesome and i felt myself getting close but it would just disappear out of nowhere. after inadvertently edging myself three times, i was basically crying. being so frustrated i threw the wand across the room, pulling it out of its socket. i pulled my knees to my chest, sobbing into them. seconds later, my door flung open, matt appearing behind it.

“y/n! is everything oka-“ he paused, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him, closing the door behind him.

“what’s happening? what is all this?” he gestured to my bed, moving closer. i didn’t speak or move, i just kept sobbing, hoping this was all some bad dream i would wake up from any second. i felt my bed shift from matt sitting down next to me. he placed a hand on my back,

“y/n?”. i just leaned into him, crying some more while he wrapped both his arms around me, still hugging my legs with a blanket still covering my lower half.

“hey, hey, you’re okay, what happened?” i figured there was no point in lying to him, he had already seen everything.

“i can’t come, i haven’t in gotten off in weeks” i said, my sobbing becoming more intense from the embarrassment of having said this out loud.

“don’t cry sweet girl, you’re okay, take a deep breath with me” he lifted my chin to look at him, taking a deep breath in through his mouth and slowly letting it out through his nose, i copied him, repeating it a few times before i could form coherent sentences.

“there you go, you’re okay. do you wanna tell me what’s happening?” he asked sweetly, making sure that i knew i didn’t have to tell him anything if i didn’t want to.

“i haven’t gotten off since i broke up w y/e/n, i can’t seem to do it myself, and as you can see,” i gestured to all the items on my bed “i’ve tried everything.” he stayed quiet for a second, obviously having no idea what to say.

“im so sorry y/n” he said finally , pulling me into a hug.

“it’s okay, thanks for listening to me cry” i chuckled out, trying to diffuse the tension.

“i uh have a suggestion, if you’d like to hear it…” i nodded against his chest, willing to try almost anything at this point.

“i could um try and help you” i pulled away from him, searching his face for any sign that he was fucking with me. his face was dead serious, concerned, with a slight ting of red on his cheeks.

“really? uh how?” i asked, knowing what he meant but wanting to make sure we were on the same page.

“well, i could finger you or eat you out? whatever you want really, whatever you think will help”

“are you sure? that’s a big ask”

“you didn’t ask, i offered. but only if you want to, if you don’t i’ll go and we can pretend this didn’t happen”

“no!” i said, louder and whinier than i meant to, “i mean um if you don’t mind”

“i don’t mind at all” he said as his eyes glanced down at my lips, letting his eyes move down my body to where the blanket was. he got up, moving around to the other side of my bed, picking up my laptop, closing it and setting it on my bedside table.

“ matt?”

“yes angel?”

“can you uh can we like maybe um-“

“words baby”

“can you kiss me?” a small smirk grew on his face.

he walked back around to the side of the bed i was on, standing in front of me he held my face in his hands, leaning over to place a small kiss on my lips, pulling away briefly before kissing me again this time pushing me back to lay on the bed. he hovered over me before settling down in between my legs, whimpering as i felt his bulge rub my clit between the blanket. he continued to kiss me gently before pulling away with my bottom lip in between his teeth. he smiled at me before grabbing my face, turning my head to give him better access to my neck. he started with light kisses, making me shiver before he started to suck a little bit, unfortunately not enough to leave marks. he then bit where he had been sucking before, licking the same spot causing me to whine. he came up, pressing another kiss to my lips before looking down at the blanket.

“can i take this off?” i nodded quickly. he pulled the blanket off exposing my bare pussy. he lifted my sweater slightly, placing kisses down the valley in between my breasts, moving down to my stomach. he let his knees fall to the ground, now sitting at the end of the bed. he wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me down toward him. i gasped at the sudden movement, looking down to see his piercing blue eyes staring straight back at me. he began kissing the insides of my thighs, not for too long, knowing how much i needed this. he looked at my pussy, glistening from all the attention, seemingly entranced.

“matt?” bringing him out of his trance

“sorry, you’re just so pretty” i blushed at the compliment. he leaned down, pressing a light kiss to my clit before licking a stripe up my folds making me let out a low moan. i could feel him smile against me as he continued to eat me out, my moans growing louder as he got more into it. lost in my pleasure, i felt something proding at my entrance before pushing in.

“oh fuck matt” i managed to whine out.

he began fucking into me with his finger while still sucking on my clit. it felt unreal but i still needed more.

“matt more please” i begged. lucky for me, he understood what i meant, adding another finger, making me let out a loud groan. i reached my hand down, searching for anything to grab onto. matt noticed, interlacing his fingers with mine. with another thrust of his fingers, he brushed my g spot, making me squeeze his hand.

“oh my god matt do that again please” he did as i asked repeating the motion, my moans growing louder.

“matt please don’t stop im so close please” i begged, grinding my pussy against his face trying to gain more friction. he held my thighs down, trying to keep me still so he could get me over the edge.

“fuck i’m gonna cum please don’t stop please please” i begged, babbling whatever words would come out of my mouth, not caring how i sounded. with a few more pumps of his fingers i came completely undone, my thighs shaking from the pleasure i hadn’t experienced in weeks. he continued eating me gently through my orgasm before coming back up to my face, kissing me. i could taste myself on his lips and it was intoxicating.

“better?”

“a little”

“a little??” surprised after my relatively intense orgasm

“matt” he looked at my inquisitively, searching my face for what i would say next.

“can you fuck me , please?”

“want my cock inside you princess ?” he said lifting his shirt over his head.

i nodded but i should’ve known better. he tilted his head to the side, giving me a look.

“you need to use your words baby, i can’t read minds” he reminded me

“ need you inside me please”

“so polite, sweetheart” he cooed, undoing his belt, completely mesmerizing me. he pulled his pants down, leaving him in just his boxers as he went to crawl on top of me.

“no, take those off too” i demanded, desperate to see all of him.

“so needy” he complied, letting his boxers hit the floor. i wasn’t surprised, i knew matt wasn’t small. i smiled excitedly, ready to just have him inside me. he reached both his hands out to me motioning for me to grab them. he pulled me up before grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt and pulling it over my head. he leaned down, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing me. i wrapped my legs around his hips as i deepened the kiss, trying to get as close to him as possible. with his arms around my waist and my legs around his hips, he lifted me up before sitting where i had been before. he placed me on his lap gently, both of us groaning, him feeling my wetness spread down his cock, me feeling his cock against my clit.

“can you ride me angel?” he said pulling away from my lips slightly, planting them firmly back after he asked. i just nodded into the kiss, needing him so desperately. he pulled away from the kiss, taking one of his arms off my waist, bringing his hand up to my mouth. he gently pressed his index and middle finger into my mouth.

“get my hand wet baby” i sucked on his fingers for a bit before he decided they were wet enough but when he pulled his fingers out i grabbed his wrist, keeping his hand near my face. i licked above where my hand grasped his wrist, all the way up to his fingertips. his pupils dilated in an instant, i could barely see any blue, his eyes fully black with lust. he brought his hand down and stroked himself a few times before lifting me slightly off his lap, lining himself up. he looked at me, making sure he saw no discomfort in my face. i gave him a small smile before sinking onto his cock. he held my hips as my arms flung around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. he guided me down, making sure not to rush me. i finally bottomed out and let out a big breathe. i sat there momentarily, enjoying how full i felt. i lifted my head from him, kissing him before pushing up on my knees, coming off his cock slightly before going back down. he let out a groan, and with his hands still on my ass helped me ride him, lifting me off him and helping me sink back down. after a little bit of this i could feel my legs getting sore, i didn’t say anything, feeling bad that i was too tired to ride him. despite me not telling him, matt noticed. he quickly flipped us over, him now on top of me, giving my legs a much needed break.

“did you get tired baby?”

i nodded, hoping that would be enough of a response for him.

“that’s okay, wanted me to take control?”

i whined at his words, grabbing his face pulling his lips to mine. he began to pound into me at an ungodly pace and i dragged my nails along his back, making him groan into the kiss. i disconnected our lips briefly.

“you feel so good, so deep inside me” i whispered against his lips. apparently he liked that as he reconnected our lips and started fucking me so hard i saw stars. i began to essentially scream into the kiss. he pulled away, “you sound so good for me sweetheart”

“matt i’m so close c-can i hnng” i struggled to finish my sentence.

“go ahead baby, wanna feel you cum on me”

with his permission, i let go, my legs began shaking as i let out the loudest moan that’s ever passed my lips

“fuck baby you look so good, can i cum inside you?”

“fuck, pLEASE” i croaked out, becoming overstimulated.

his thrusts became sloppier and he slowed down as he released inside me, completely filling me up. he pumped into me a few more times before pulling out.

“are you okay sweet girl?” he asked, concerned as my eyes were half lidded and fluttering open and shut.

“mhm” i responded, only able to mumble and whine.

“cmon let’s get you cleaned up” he lifted me bridal style, carrying me to my bathroom, setting me down on the toilet.

“go pee baby” he ordered as he made his way back into my room to clean up a little. after i peed i sat on the toilet, elbows propped up on my knees with my head in my hands. i heard matt’s footsteps as he made his way back into the bathroom, holding a t-shirt, underwear and your favorite pajama pants.

“can you walk?” he asked, sounding worried despite his smirk on his face, proud of how good he made me feel.

“maybe?” he reached out his hand for me to grab, helping me off the toilet. at first, my legs felt like i had no bones in them but i was able to stand after a few seconds. i slipped the shirt over my head before holding onto him to put on my underwear and pants. he walked me into my room, helping me into bed before handing me an unopened water bottle.

“drink this” he ordered, as he walked toward the door.

“are you leaving ?” the thought of him leaving after all that made me want to sob.

“course not baby, just turning off the lights” he said flicking off the light before returning to the bed, crawling under the blankets. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close before giving me a sweet kiss on the back of my neck.

“thank you matt” i said, intertwining my fingers in his.

“anything for you my love” pulling me closer if even possible.

A/N: hi, thanks for reading my first full fic :) i want feedback! constructive criticism is appreciated (just don’t be mean) also idk if the peeing thing is weird, i think it’s kinda cute so 🤷‍♀️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Polly and Ann. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: 💗

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

Barbie sets up her vanity on the desk. She opens the little plastic doors on the mirror to reveal the built-in lights before bending over to plug it in. You’re amused at her efforts as she reaches around the legs in search of a socket. 

You’re so excited. You’ve been counting down the days since your best friend came up with the idea. She found the ad online and forwarded it to you. It was almost too good to be true. You came together to meet the building manager, Jonathan, and he showed you all around. You can’t believe you both snagged a room. 

Barbie stands and pushes a button on the base of the mirror. She fiddles with her phone and there’s a chiming noise. Music starts to play from the speakers behind the vanity. Nifty. 

She lifts her makeup chest onto the desk and unrolls her collection of brushes and other tools. Her passion is admirable. You guess that’s why you are friends; she doesn’t shy away from what she loves. For her, it’s cosmetics, for you, it’s clothes. 

Lulu watches her as she hovers around the door. The girl hasn’t stopped moving since you go there. She’s like a hummingbird, always fluttering. She has this nervous laugh that seems to escape her without notice. 

“What are you taking, Lu?” You ask, hoping to distract her from her nerves. 

“Oh, uh, mathematics.” 

“Math? Wow.” 

“I’m not much for numbers but I have to do accounting courses if I want my business degree,” Barbie snips as she sorts through her makeup pads. 

“Business? That’s cool. What about you, Polly?” Lulu sways and tucks her hands behind her back. 

“Interior design. My mom forbade me from going into fashion but I convinced her to let me do this instead,” you explain. “It’s good money and I can still sew on the side, I guess.” 

“That’s interesting. I don’t know much about fashion. Vogue or whatever,” she tentatively peeks over at Barbie. “You have so much makeup.” 

“I’m a collector,” Barbie trills. “You want me to do you up? I don’t mind and I’m religious about cleaning my stuff.” 

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to,” Lulu waves her hands. 

“I don’t have to but I want to,” Barbie insists. 

“It’s her hobby,” you say, “just don’t let her get you with the glitter.” 

Lulu shrugs, “okay, nothing too heavy. I have sensitive skin.” 

“Oh, you don’t need much,” Barbie assures her, “your eyes are the perfect shape.” 

You hide a yawn as your leg bounces, jiggling the whole bed with it. You lean back on the heels of your hand, bored but not unhappy. The music fills the lull as Barbie searches through her palettes. 

You flinch as you hear something in the hallway. You get up as Barbie asks Lulu her opinion on lip gloss. You open the door and peek out. A girl carries and old looking suitcase down the hall, a box cradled in her other arm. You step out and she tosses the box in surprise. 

“Oh, hi,” she touches her chest and catches her breath. She looks over in dread at the scattered contents of the box. “Uh... sorry. You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry, I was just coming to say hi,” you go to her as she leaves her suitcase to the side and gets down to gather up her belongings. You help her, picking up a framed photo of a woman. She looks a lot like her. Maybe her mother? 

“I’m Ann,” she says as she takes the frame. 

“Polly,” you reply. “There’s some other girls in there,” you point over your shoulder. “You’re welcome to join us once you get your stuff down.” 

“Uh, sure, maybe,” she lifts the box and stands. “Tired.” 

“Right, yeah, I think everyone is. Been a long day.” 

“Is everyone else already here?” She asks. 

“I think. There’s two others downstairs. I guess you didn’t see them on your way in.” 

“Just the boy, uh, Peter? He’s nice. He wanted to play some ping pong but my hands were full,” she backs up to grab her bag, “I’ll knock on the door if I get a chance.” 

“Sure, yeah, we’d be happy to have ya. I know we were thinking of drinks so... maybe later.” 

“Okay,” she nods and lets herself into the last empty room.  

You go back into Barbie’s room as she bends to ply powder to Lulu’s face. “Someone here?” She asks. 

“Yeah, the last girl. Ann.” 

“Ann? That’s so pretty. Was she nice?” She asks. 

“Oh, super nice. She seemed a bit tired but I think we all get that. I told her to stop by if she has the energy.” 

“Awesome,” Barbie preens and stands back to examine Lulu. 

You wade around the room restlessly. Now that everyone is here, you’re impatient. You go to the window and glance out at the yard. It’s green and lush and perfectly groomed. You touch the window. The glass feels peculiarly thick. You twist the latch between the panes and push out. Heavy, too. 

As you do, you notice the figure below. Steve notices you too. The large blond man turns and peers up. You stand dumbly as you are. He raises a hand in a casual wave. You frown and pull back without returning the gesture. 

“Oof, that pollen’s going to get me good,” Barbie sniffles, “honey, will you look in my bag for my claritan?” 

“You’re always so dramatic,” you tease her as you tuck down your concern. 

You go to Barbie’s purse and search around for the pills. You don’t want to worry her by asking about that man. If everyone’s here, shouldn’t he be headed out. Jonathan touted the new security system and he mentioned routine check-ins. You really don’t like the idea of constant surveillance, even if it’s for your own safety. 

“You okay?” Barbie asks as you approach her with the box of tablets. 

“Fine, fine, just... adjusting.” 

“We all are,” she sets down her brush and take the medicine. “Right, Lu?” 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s so new,” the girl wiggles on the chair and giggles. “And far from home.” 

You give her a sympathetic smile. You can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in a whole different country. The more you think about it, the more your own homesickness mounts. Your family isn’t the best but you can’t help but miss them just a little bit. 

You put the portrait on the empty desk next to the box. You’re too exhausted to unpack. You drag your feet and sit on the bed. There’s a tidy stack of folded sheets on top, next to a card. Strange. 

You reach for the envelope and tear it open. Inside, you read the little welcome; ‘Consider this a housewarming. Please don’t hesitate to call should you have any issues with your housing. Jonathan Pine.’ Under his name, he’s written the number you already have in your phone. You lower it to your lap and something slides out of the envelope. 

You bend forward to take the gift card from the floor. Huh. That’s a bit too generous. A gift card to the local mall. You wouldn’t spit in the face of kindness but this all seems a bit much, especially after staying so long with Marla. 

You put it all back in the envelope and lay sideways on the bed, legs still over the edge. You were so happy to get a room there; clean, affordable, great location. Not that you’re there, you’re overwhelmed by it all. All these pretty girls, younger yet well ahead of you. 

It won’t do to get hung up on age or time or whatever. You should at least try to make friends. They seem lovely so far. Besides, you didn’t just miss out on classes for all those years you took off, no, you lost out on the social scene. 

You huff and push yourself up. Better be a human and go and meet your roommates. The long you wait, the more awkward it’ll be. Besides, you’re done with being left behind. 

You peek out into the hall before you emerge. You step out and shut the door gently. You cross the white carpet with blue roses and knock on the same door that girl Polly came out of. The moment your knuckles hit the wood, a brew of nerves begins in your stomach. 

It doesn’t take long for an answer. It’s almost like Polly’s waiting for you on the other side. You smile and give an awkward wave. Why did you do that? 

“Hey, offer stand?” You ask. 

“Oh, hi! Yes, come on in and meet everyone,” she steps back. You poke your head in before the rest of you and push your shoulders up, “hi, I’m Ann.” 

“Barbie,” the one standing up introduces, her focus on the other as she draws on her eyelids with liner. “This is Lulu. She’s an exchange student.” 

“Hi,” Lulu squeaks then giggles as she keeps her eyes closed. 

“Stay still,” Barbie tuts. She gets an apology and another tinkling laugh. 

“It’s just the three of you?” Ann asks. “And Peter?” 

“And Molly,” Barbie answers as she pulls back and caps the liner. “Quiet but sweet.” She sucks her teeth as she looks over Lulu. “We’ll do your mascara and gloss and then we’ll go do some driiiiinks.” She shimmies as she sings the last words. 

“I brought vodka if you wanna share,” Polly offers, “Barbie only drinks tequila.” 

“Can’t go wrong with a margarita,” Barbie counters. 

“I’ve never drank,” Lulu says. “My mom never let it in the house.” 

“Oh my god! Alright, well, we’ll make sure to give you a starter drink,” Barbie chirps. 

“Vodka’s fine, thanks,” you say to Polly. You look around and take in the large makeup chest with its many shelves and the roll of brushes in all sizes. 

“Barbie’s really into cosmetics. We go on dates to Sephora.” 

“They know me by name,” Barbie brags. 

“Mm,” you nod and clasp your hands together. You don’t know what to say. “So, uh, super nice building huh?” 

“Oh, it’s fucking perfect,” Barbie says. “I lived on campus last year and the showers were always clogged with hair. Ew.” 

“Hah, yeah, well, just wait a couple months,” Polly scoffs. 

“Mm, and there’s good security,” you suggest as you drag your hand up your arm, “I met that guy on the way in. Steve.” 

“Ah, yes, he’s nice,” Barbie says. 

Polly hums and her lips thin as she glances at the window. Lulu giggles again but doesn’t add anything. 

“And Jonathan is a sweetheart. That accent, too,” Barbie laughs. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, he’s nice.” 

“Sy is... nice too,” Lulu says. “The gardener.” 

“Honey, I need to do your lips,” Barbie chides. 

“Sorry,” Lulu stills and lets the other girl paint her with pink gloss. 

“There’s a gardener?” You ask as you share a look with Polly. 

“Done,” Barbie announces and stand straight. 

Lulu looks at herself in the mirror and bats her lashes, “oh my god, it’s awesome! Wow! I don’t even look like me!” 

“You do. I just highlighted your beauty,” Barbie assures her. “Ann, how about it? You want a glow up?” 

“Uh, no, that’s fine. Lulu, you said there’s a gardener?” 

“Of course,” Barbie shrugs, “I mean, look at the yard. I’m not trimming the hedges, are you?” 

“Yeah, he’s a big guy. Super helpful. The other day, I got locked out by accidents. Oh, you gotta be careful with the front door.” 

“Right,” you squint. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We got all year to complain about the house, guys, let’s go get the others and get the party started,” Barbie whines as she looks around and flits over to a Louis Vuitton bag, “let me just get my tequila. Pol, go get your bottle and we’ll ball out.” 

You force a smile but it’s not entirely fake. You’re excited. You’re finally getting started on your life after dwelling so long on the end of it. You just wish your mom was here to see it. You wish you could call her so she could tell you she’s proud. 

She would be, wouldn’t she?

[cipheramnesia]

Graft

In my rest time between one novel and the next I'm enjoying myself making a little spun sugar story about a cyberpunk pussy heist. It's meandering and heavy on imaginary slang but it's fun for me so here is the first half or third or so of it

First thing DeeDee noticed, her usual morning orgasm, or "morgasm," hadn't gone off.

She was late, and splashers crowded her A/V specs, screaming flashing neon yellow red blue promises, 10 water rat guaranteed each spin, stop here twenty percent off premium-vu, act now to get free oxy-sub, plus about fifteen past due blasters for her leg mods, dayclix, manudex upgrade, face plate, other parts. She could see a narrow sliver of her room through the MAds, and she had a scrips balance lockout from the cockout. Groaning with irritation, clawed her way off the cot to the 12-key hardline, unfolded her tongue socket and jammed the bcomp line in, clattering the set in frustration.

Half the blasters, most of the splashers dipped. She got back audio and waist downs and rolled. "Whoooo turned my hot shots off? Who left the wallEMP off!" Micro drones winged around the room popping ad spray and sonics, a few were clamped on her with other past due notes. "Water ration overdue, water ration exceeded" circled her biomech cat ears. Swatted a two or three, fell on the wall switch to jam on the Flyswatter. DeeDee figured a couple hundred overall went pop, trailed smoke down. Ad dust everywhere from the spray. One was on her face?

"I'm not best pleased!" she said to no one, expressing her displeasure. Swept dust and drone crumbs with her feet to space clear in her studio apartment slash office slash workspace slash bedroom slash kitchen, and crashed on the deskchair, slapping dpatches along her limbs and a compstik into her faceboard. "No hotshot no swatter, noncon facejacked?" She untangled her hair from the ecb-plugs on her face tech and grabbed her digiplate because she was slumming it, pouted while the scrips and drips that got dug into her software and hardware ate the big edit to the sky.

While she was waiting around for the MAds and spamware scan [MAdaSS], she finally got to look over the C-Clamp chastity boot locked to her pelvic slot with optional NoPro (tm) insert for prostate denial. "What's this horseshit, who did I fuck last night?" DeeDee did not know what horses were, she imagined they were a kind of bird. Pinged out for her custom built EX neurosynth neovag and got fuckall, which pissed her because the whole point was fuck all.

One by one her debuggers chirped, hopped onto her palm, drawered em, and slapped her basic as fuck face of the day on. Blessed she was with pristine sight of the world, not a nagnote or payscram in sight, just vext message notes, siggies, and a small alarm bell. "Shit, better get to work!"

Shoved cargo shorts over her cock locked personal pleasure slot, work boots, tanktop ("Asparagus for President" it said, from the infamous three way sudden death vote-off of '76), and jammed her comxcon into a free arm port before she flipped the sign to open at her door. "Gosh that was close, any customers?" She looked, a khakicollar dude held up a laptop plaintive, "My browser won't-" DeeDee slammed the door, "No customers! Another perfect day, hang up." Vext notes blinked aside for serious business now. She threw her shorts off. "Time to get outta this contraptamajig."

One angle grinder, one band saw blow torch, three axes, twelve hammers, and eighteen screwdrivers later DeeDee fucked her way through one after the other, even tried to plink the code. All this pouding and plethora of penetrarive pelvic parts frustrated her to rolling her bedsheets into her crotch and grinding on the best metal chastity could buy. She drooled all over her aching synthezized nerve spots, "fuck me I can't even cum, what's wrong with the world these days?"

Vexts, vexts, she clicked the note up it said: ANSWER YOUR CALLS and >:( >:( >:( >:(

The incoming piddy was the UNKNOWN ID scrap, she dropped a spam cage on it and replied 8===D~~~ GFYS and binned it mid-[... is typing]

Fuck fuckity fuck work, DeeDee needed some downtown deep sea diving. She climbed out the window, being more reliable than stairs or elevator. Nothing worked in the damn building except gravity.

Short and sweet broke beat sidewalk street, she hit so many concrete cracks, DeeDee figured the local maternity wards had to be a massacre. A couple dozen micros blasted ad spray and sonics, she flipped a bug zapper and swept em. Ads were going old school, nanoswarms warred over wallspace in constant barage of microsensors, hurling rainbow swirls that paced over the odd window and traffic signal promising six months free tubespace per dayclix.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS RIGHT NOW 😡😡😡😡

"Oh fancy fucks spending on the megs per pixel now?" DeeDee spamcanned again (GFYS) and freeloaded on a driverless with a buncha other local goons. "Hey ratbot, you headin to the VFW too?"

"It's a coffee barrr, Draftie," he replied. DeeDee called him ratbot because he was a planned obsolescence warbot with artificial intelligence generated by a rat brain daisy chain, real preschooler level tech these days but cheap and easy at the time and twice as disposable as a human soldier. "And for the last time my name is Wendell. Wendell Crawford."

She still didn't know why he had a Boston accent, the whole city had been totalled in the second Great Mega Pileup Traffic Jam six years before the manufacturer date on his tread guards. He called her Draftie because her legal name was Draft Dodger due to a mistake in one of her prison ID cards. "C'mon, it's Morca's."

"Ignore her, babe," Bobby, ratbot's partner, tugged him a fraction of an inch away on the driverless rooftop. Legally speaking Bobby was Wendell's owner because the corporate manufacture-state that made him refused to recognize his personhood. Morca's owner, SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, had been helping with their legal battle, but they hadn't made much progress. Total bullshit, DeeDee thought but last big corplex suit against SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE made em keep her in life support parts forever, cleared out all mines from international waters, and her entire species were considered a recognized nation encompassing all oceans on Earth. Did great things for the environment, terrible for the war business.

They hopped at the block, batted some more ad spray and DeeDee knocked some local splashers with the hotshot, enjoyed watching ratbot snap micros in half with his plastic fingers, inhuman accuracy, "Still got it babe," said Bobby, hugging his blocky arms.

They pushed through the big, rocketproofed front doors under a blinking neon "Morcha Latte" sign, inside was all plastic and vulcanized rubber with DV light and fake windows to make the warehouse sized bunker building feel cozy. SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE claimed it was stress tested up to three directs from sunburst corebuster and who was going to argue with a two storey cyborg?

The overheads churned out the latest scrape40, whatever they were listening to at the bottom of the ocean, today DeeDee thought it sounded like angry plinko machines fighting while she caught lyrics she understood in bits and pieces, "Strangle me, strangle all my life, drag us through the silt and kill in the light," or something like that. She was a regular at Morca's because she got SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE all her jailbroken subscription free parts - sourcing and scouring unclocked mods and squids was her gig anyway. She dumped her ass into a rickety old carbon fiber woven chair between the door and the juke wall. A bunch of hipsters had early adopted save to disc memory uploads but went with vinyl to capture the true soul, now they spent all day slotted into the giant juke machine with impulse fed nerve endings bathed in chemically sterilized vats of coffee.

DeeDee unzipped her shorts and capped the chastity blocker. ARE U SEEING THIS? vexted to Portland. They knew all the high mods, probably could crack her case, she thought, right before let's just say a jolt, a singing high note, transported her from crotch to sternum then dropped her cold. Half a sec from climax, she looked around the room her digiplate all 0_0 not finding a shred of note, til the second song struck her off her seat and got her writhing on the rubber. Customers at the other tables lifted cups and rekeyed their MAdaSSes to tune her out.

"Hot pants!" she yelled, "Liar pants, falsehoods and flame!" Real old gen VR heads turned in annoyance as she pirouetted through tables and rattled silverware clung to the espresso countertop. Her legs kicked about in frustration as she got edged up and dropped. "H-hey Velllma, mind if I borrow the steamer a hot sec?"

"Sure DeeDee, you know you only gotta ask hun. Want-want s-some sug- Sorry, still got that old tick." Velma was a self-operated point of sale holodrone who DeeDee had jacked, glassed, and juiced to someone more independent for handling orders at Morca's, and she'd done a recent SRS download to her visual interface.

"You're the best Vel." Few seconds later DeeDee steamed her crotch full blast trying to bust herself free or bust herself off.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS NOW OR YOU'LL NEVER CUM AGAIN, BITCH

She slipped off the espresso machine and answered from the floor with her feet still resting against the countertop. "Who are you, and what was the safe word? Last night's a blur."

"No safeword. We have your cunt. Meet at the bench, corner of Morgan Stanley Park Avenue and Kern Holding Street. Alone, one hour."

It was one thing to jailbreak, but DeeDee knew her limits and line trace was one so she snagged and bagged the pins and held a little inside sacrifice to Portland, the premier polymath polycule who surgically interconnected their brains inside a single body to share one another for life. One bit of Portland code gold and she'd be swimming in pussy. "You're on the floor, DeeDee," reminded Velma.

"This is my thinking space, hush up while I ponder the infinite." She could a couple a SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's legs pacing, shaking the floor, could catch a word back in the beyond warehouse room where a couple cracked up Kilowais were chattering out notation and legal docstacks for Flathead Ford. The Kilowais, KBW trademarked AI, were way old corpsec, patented and trademarked download of a heavy hitter bandsaw from his day, couldn't be pirated off the base personality unless they morally agreed to void their warranty, lots in the circ. Ford was SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's lawyer, fighting the landslide for ratbot on the orca's tab.

PORTLAND WILL SEE YOU NOW, DeeDee flixed over from the viz to the vurt. "Are you still thinking dear?" Velma asked, pointedly moving her legs to start espresso dripping, DeeDee assumed the obvious silently as penance. "How's it hanging y'all, got any hot new brains to hook into the juice party?" Loaded upside down in the polygon pleather chair, Portland ran clix and adspace in a tasteful wall scroll, kind of an art to the exploit, less brute force than DeeDee's prefs, the smooth outer chassis for Portland said "I'm punching out in a minute."

They were an individualized amalgamation of three physical brains psychosurgically visected into one another, enabled to a custom body and lifetime committed to singulamory. "I'm cock locked out, Port, listen," DeeDee shoved two fingers to her mouth and slathered her togue along them for a sensiosync to the cursed crotch clamp. Portland's digits ghosted through the stats, pulled em and vexted. "What's the damage, how much and how soon?"

"Custom work, charming darling." Portland leaned their trilateral symmetric body back, waved away the middle and spread up DeeDee's alt, nerves and all. "Fused the long way up your spinal cord. Biolocked, meat stuff. Not our forte, darling, and you couldn't afford it if it was." Portland sighed, overcome with vaporous boredom. "Even if we knew the lockout, custom viropicks run more than your last ten years income, pussycat."

"Fuck my life, stay outta my taxes, gimme something at least." DeeDee yanked her slobbered fingers out.

"It's good work, better than you're ever worth, and I'd know - I sourced half your body."

"One third but whatever."

"The good news is, you'll probably not get spinal meningitis from the lockout, just don't leave it too long." DeeDee punched out and heaved a floor heavy sigh. "Guess I really better go make that meet, or I could desperately call everyone I know and owe." After desperately calling everyone she knew, DeeDee said, >:( to the ceiling, "I guess I'm going to the meet with these mysterious pussy theives. I spent good money on that cunt too!"

"How's that search going," Velma stood between DeeDee's legs and frothed artificially thickened protein strings for someone's café au lait.

"Velma... Velma, have I been karmically centered would you say? Have the scales of justice been tipped cruelly against me, the most innocent of girls? Would you walk on me for twenty bucks?"

So Velma kicked off her shoes but not even getting used as a doormat got her off the edge, then SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE looked through her office door.

"Velma, put your shoes on, DeeDee leave your shirt off and pay Velma another twenty." The average AlTrek 4X Infrantry Multiplier AC was rusting out in uninhabitable desert to the beat of radioactive decay, major outliers were in use for specialized valet parking and the life support framework for SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, approximately 1/3 of an orca left over from an underwater mine in a corpwar trading route blow up.

No one argues with two tons of whale who already won a fight with the government and the major corptrade conglomerate general council strapped inside another 12 odd tons of mechanized power, DeeDee tucked her shirt behind her head and hoped someone around here appreciated her tits. >:0 "These are pristine, you jackoffs, classic CW models, OEM to spec!" She shoved them in the direction of the tables, no one looked.

"Dee." Flathead beckoned, DeeDee called to the beck and slashed backwards on a metal chair. "You're keyed up to vandal, girl. Listen, need a filter swap for my client. Upgrade the whole box if you can scratch it up, figure me?"

"Square it with me, Ford, my tits still hot?" (*´_`) She leaned way in, specced the side-eye from SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE through the tanktint windows, right figure whales are mammals too.

Flathead's oily eyes under that heavybrowed custom lawframe job in his skull slid along DeeDee, back to her digital pleading @_@ and shrugged. "You know I don't do organic."

"Fuck! I'm-" She pulled her shirt down. "I'm late, I'll hustle up a nextgen, usual rate."

"Sure sure. Clean it, client says this one makes everything taste like hot dogs."

"How's she know what a hot dog tastes like even where'd she get..." DeeDee vocalled on the downlow out the side office door, left ratbot and Bobby hankin paperwork in whatever new angle Ford was playing at. Color searing eyes blasted the world round her with sound again. Splasher and flasher swarmed the Mocra doors hungrily.

DeeDee swiped onto a delivery drone blowing down the sidewalk, vanished in a cloud of disintegrating adspray and splasher dust. Clix and spinners streaked her A/V edge while she fingerbanged the tamperfree(tm) deep into the loving waiting GPS and flushed it. Kern Holding halved the ad sprays, stuck her on a halfsec blind wait to cycle over the MAdaSS.

Didn't look half priced up over the viz, real park space and algea tanks, plastic green, trueviz rooftop boards and splashers all reigned in. Not many places scratched up enough to pay for gray but Kern and Morgan Stanely did. "Fuck where's this guy." Hustle and crowd pressed close round the bench powerbricks, all these droners worked virtual right on the walkway.

Coats slid up too personal in a curl, this guy has legs on legs and teeth like insect legs, curling open near DeeDee's whimsical cat-ear mods. "Let's private" it skittered those fine metal teeth to her mask glass, and made her go all >.<; with each word. "Whatever." She wrapped digits round multisegment hands and clasped private-public lines, perfect prophylactic for keeping conversing on the hush-hush without a fatal social disease.

"Why the cold brush, kittykat, doncha trust much," it thrummed in silk smooth inside sounds around the wire.

"Don't test my taps, snatcherino," she dropped an icicle hiss down the line. Hand in hand and out for a stroll through the walking workdead and high class bluemaroon adspray of the other side.

"Fair enough kitty, coulda had more playtime." It was wrapped up head to toe other than the segments in her hand and legs slipped in between bandages on its head. "Giving you a hot tip, fresh filter refurb, ex-corp sub and modded for ox, great deal for you. Free and install formatted."

"Real bargain bin I spec."

"No clones, no rebadge. I'll drop the pickup, all you do is courier like a good girl. No messing, no poking the drivers and wares, from your hands to the orca, and forget we talked. That's all." A ripple of excitement went through the walking workdead, furiously chattering through corp trades.

"Figure that filter's plenty safe. Figure that's why all the cloak n bullshit pussy snatching. Pure charity, no?"

"Trust, nothing's on your hands after this and you go back to nightly custom fingerbangs." Twenty insect legs curled around the cuff of its coat and withdrew.

"Might run this up a few contacts first."

"Might drop your filthy cunt in sulfuric acid if you do, clear enough."

"Distilled, fine, hit me with the deets."

Deet dusted, connect busted, DeeDee blew bowed kisses with fuck off finger flourishes while she walk backwards up an exec driverless, scuffing up the ten cent gloss on a two cent primer dip. Rolled with the high rollers through the Red Riser strip. She cut through the Whipping Whirlpool, high stakes operator she cut some autonomics for - head/body gamblers all got off on taking a chance on having their bodies wired in to fuck off enough debt to reattach their heads, double or nothing down to win a brand new model. Not a sale or soul DeeDee made, her personal opinion but no judgment. Slipped out the back door after a little slap and tickle pass through.

The back alley cut between WW and topline exec condoslugs, custom body stim tubes for a full home holistic virtual life, and the whole alley was packed with nimbyronment sentiels. Rained here so no one else got wet, wastecycle rats and sewer filters crowded up and down the black wet brick. DeeDee stepped live around the hyperaggro antipestation roachhives then out to the big blaze - adcolor burst wide round her as she hit the main road looking for drones and anthills.

No broker worth a salt shake missed out on bread crumbs and sugar crystals, and DeeDee doled em from her cargo pants pocket. Can't do acquisitions and void warranties without a big juiced net, a dropin with Guts was neg, hadda go pre-analog here full on prehistoric. Dime blaster swarmed each scrap, cheap motion sensitive, to small for spray. Rats bright and ready for fission snagged, but the bait made do and the march of Colony made its unerring path a bead of tiny black dots to DeeDee.

"Sweet sWeet sweEt bread Gluten carbo yeaSt verY Good sweet swEet yes." Couple hundred ants jeweled DeeDee's ears pretty as you please and twice as small. Colony sees all, knows all, lives everywhere, that singularly focused consciousness inside immeasurable ants. It all farmed belowground, and DeeDee got in the know when her mini-fridge busted.

No dropin, no line out, no unlink or download - just neko a horminga and her lips to Colony's ears.

[sim0nril3y]

Classic Games

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader

Scenario: Whilst cleaning through some old boxes you find an old video game console and decide that rather than cleaning you want to play some old games. Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), teasing, implied smut, canon-typical swearing, video game talk.

Simon was good at organising. He was diligent and meticulous. Being inside your chaotic little flat seemed to put him into an unreasonably bad mood. Constantly making little comments about your art supplies being everywhere, it was driving him mad and finally you gave him permission to help organise it into three piles: keep, throw and donate. It was very difficult and you seemed to fight Simon on almost everywhere he wanted to throw away. So, to get some needed space from you he sent you away to begin to sort through your old boxes that had been stacked in your cupboard since moving in, he wanted to change it into a storage place for your supplies instead of having them everywhere.

A sharp gasp found your lips as you opened the final box. It was your ancient PlayStation 1 sitting at the very bottom, it was covered in dust but everything was there, including two controllers and even a few games. “Oh my god~” A second later Simon came crashing into the room, eyes darting around trying to find the danger that caused your reaction. “What happened?” He pressed, stepping further in. “You cut yourself? Knew I shouldn’t have given you that knife-” “Si, I’m fine.” You laughed and then held up the PS1 like it was some holy artefact. “Look what I found~”

“You’re supposed to be-” “I need to see if this still works.” In a second you were up, collecting all the necessary wires and games and then rushing through to the living room. It seemed like Simon was making good headway on his side of the cleaning process. “Oi, you’re supposed to be sorting through that shit not playing games.” His voice was firm as he lingered in the doorway watching as you began to set up the old device. “Clearly I’m testing to see if this works so I can figure out if it needs to go in the keep or throw pile.” Then glancing over your shoulder at him. “C’mon, we can take like a five minute break, right? Look at it in here, like a different flat.” You commented gesturing around you.

A soft groan escaped Simon’s lips as he moved to flop onto the sofa and cover his face with his hand. “Yeah, but somehow all the chaos that was in here has somehow shifted to the bedroom…” Then those dark eyes found you as you continued to plug it in. “It’ll get done.” You responded with an easy shrug. Simon was more of the mindset that if a task of started it needed to be finished, but it was apparent to him that you were easily distracted and enjoyed procrastinating. You needed a firm hand, he was gonna get you in line whether you liked it or not.

Excitedly you pressed the power button and frowned heavily as it didn’t power up. “Bollocks…” You muttered, picking up the device and inspecting it. “Give it here…” Simon said, holding his hand out towards you from the couch. You walked it over to him and watched as he began to clean the power socket from any dust and debris that had collected in there. “Try it again now…” He coaxed and you moved over to plug it in and try again. A wild smile pulled across your lips as you heard the machine whirling and then the television light up. “It’s working!” You squeaked, placing a game inside and then grabbing a controller as you moved to sit beside him. “You are actually a genius, Simon Riley~” You cooed, leaning in to peck his cheek.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He sipped on his tea as he watched you playing Crash Bandicoot. It was actually amusing watching the nostalgia that littered your face, gasping and commenting about how you remembered certain sections, commenting on how hard that you found it when you were younger and how even now you were older it still wasn’t easy. At the third time the character feels down a seemingly endless pit because of a mistimed jump a smirk pulled from his throat. “Something funny?” You asked with a quirked brow. “Your inability to make a simple jump.” The statement fired back and made you gasp dramatically. “Oh, I’d like to see you do any better…”

From beside you his hand shot out, a silent request for the controller. You place it into his hands and sunk back beside him, watching as he negatived the level with a lot more patience than you had. You watched with mirth as he landed the jump that you had repeatedly missed and even went on to finish the level. “You made that look difficult.” He mentioned with that cocky smile on his face. “Beginners luck.” “Well, maybe I’m just better than you~” There was taunting to his voice and instantly your eyes darted in his direction.

“Not a chance.” Then leaning closer to him, up to his ear and whispering. “But we could always put that smart mouth to the test and see if you can prove me wrong~” You heard the hitch in his breath, saw the way his hands rubbed against his thighs before a low command responded. “Behave yourself.” It was practically a growl before leaping from the couch to insert another game, grabbing your own controller and sitting down beside him. “How about a game of Tekken to settle this?”

“You’re on.” Simon hadn’t played this game before but there was no way he was going to back down from a challenge. After selecting characters and a place to fight you began the first round. It was a closer round but you took it easily. You were beginning to remember some of the combo moves and Simon eyed you eagerly watching the television, tapping your fingers furiously against the controller. The second round was about to come to a closer, announcing you as the winner when suddenly Simon knocked the controller from your hands and yanked you up into his arms. “Cheater! I was gonna win!” You screamed as he gathered you into his arms and tucked you beneath him on the sofa. “Can’t win if you can’t reach the controller, love~” He purred in your ear. “Now, do you wanna continue your silly little fighting game or… play a different game with me instead?” He pressed his hips firmly against your own. “Different game.”

Masterlist | Ask | 06-09-2023

[buckevantommy]

"You know," Buck rested his hips on the edge of the counter, arms crossed on his chest, watching Tommy push the new bulb into the socket, "I don't usually mind doing these things myself, but I have to say, I really like not having to anymore."

Tommy laughed quietly as he started turning the bulb clockwise to set it in place. He looked at Buck and raised his eyebrows. "So that's why you keep me around, huh? Not because you like me, but because you want someone to do things for you?"

Buck shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant about it. "I mean, free labor," he said, trying to suppress a smile that was fighting its way onto his mouth. "You can't let the opportunity slip away just like that."

"Wow," Tommy nodded, looking back at the bulb, and when he finally felt it lock into place, he grabbed the old bulb and put it in a plastic grocery bag. "You're lucky you're adorable. Otherwise, I'd be out of here in no time."

Buck laughed quietly and placed his hands on the counter, watching Tommy. Something about seeing him move so comfortably around Buck's apartment made him feel funny in his stomach. It was like... he belonged here. Together with Buck. Tommy disposed of the old bulb and then came back to plug the lamp in. As soon as he did that, the lamp was glowing warm white again. Buck raised his eyebrows. "Hot damn, maybe you missed your calling."

Tommy shrugged. "Well, good thing I can find fulfillment here, then," he said, smiling softly at Buck. Buck couldn't help but return the smile and reached out his hand in Tommy's direction, suddenly a little irritated at the distance between them. As Tommy started making his way to Buck, Buck noticed that his heart began beating a little bit faster. Oh, now, this is just embarrassing. Maybe Maddie was right. Maybe he really was a 14-year-old girl trapped inside a grown man's body. How else should he explain all those reactions inside of him to Tommy simply existing in his space? He felt Tommy interlock their fingers and rest his free hand on Buck's hip. He planted a quick kiss on the corner of Buck's lips and Buck hummed, smiling involuntarily. "But I have to say," Tommy added suddenly. "The free labor thing is not going to cut it for me."

"Oh," Buck raised his eyebrows, a funny feeling spreading in his chest. "Well, isn't my happiness and satisfaction enough?" he asked, but when he saw Tommy's look he knew he wouldn't keep up the facade and was about to agree with him instead. And funnily enough, this is not what he was aiming for. He quickly placed his hand on Tommy's neck. "How about payment in kisses, then?" And before Tommy could answer, Buck leaned in closer to capture Tommy's lips in his. He felt Tommy smile into the kiss and couldn't help himself but smile back. But before they could immerse themselves in the kiss, they heard a strange buzzing sound behind them. Tommy frowned, backing off slightly, and the space around them suddenly went dark. He sighed, defeated, and theatrically rested his forehead on Buck's shoulder. Buck laughed, placing a hand on the back of Tommy's head. "See, I told you that lamp is cursed," he said, stroking gently the strands of Tommy's hair.

"No, you just suck at buying decent light bulbs," Tommy muttered under his breath. "From now on, you have to let me handle the buying."

"Mhm," Buck agreed, letting go of Tommy's palm and placing both of his hands on Tommy's chest. He pushed him back gently so he could see his face again. "We'll talk about this later," he said and looked at Tommy's lips. "Now this," he added, and clenching his hands on Tommy's shirt, he pulled him into a kiss. Tommy hummed into his mouth, clearly pleased with Buck's actions, and returned the kiss, gently grabbing Buck's thighs to lift him up and place him on the counter. Buck let out a surprised, but nonetheless satisfied, sound, and was just about to move one of his hands to Tommy's neck when he suddenly thought of something. He pulled back to look at a now clearly disoriented Tommy. "Oh, speaking of- did you know that the human brain runs on enough watts of power to light a bulb? I read about it recently, and it made me think of all the cartoons where the imaginary light bulb would turn on every time someone had an idea," he laughed, expecting Tommy to do the same. But Tommy didn't laugh. Instead, he smiled softly, and Buck suddenly realized what an utter idiot he was. He had turned him off. There is a time and place to bombard your partner with fun facts, but it certainly isn't right when you're trying to go at it with them. "Fuck," he said, panicking a little. "Fuck, I've ruined the mood, haven't I? I'm so sor-"

But as soon as Buck said that, Tommy shook his head and gently grabbed his chin to guide him to his lips. Buck let out a surprised hum, but soon after he started kissing him back, forgetting that he had even said anything. He placed both of his hands on Tommy's hips, trying to pull him closer to him. He let out a quiet moan from the back of his throat, when Tommy started sucking on his bottom lip, and all of a sudden he grew a little frustrated that Tommy was still wearing a shirt. He pulled it up just enough to get his hands on Tommy's bare skin when suddenly Tommy pulled back. Buck looked at him, visibly confused.

"Tell me more," he heard him say a little breathlessly, but his mind latched onto only the last word that came out of his mouth. More. Yeah, that sounds good. So why did Tommy pull away?

"More?" Buck asked, panting quietly and looking at Tommy's pink lips. But it wasn't a question, really; it was a request. He nodded as if giving himself permission to keep going, and he placed one of his hands on the back of Tommy's neck, trying to gently pull him in. But just as their lips were about to meet again, Tommy smiled instead and pushed back as if he wanted to avoid giving Buck what he wanted. Buck frowned, visibly frustrated. What is this guy's problem?

Tommy looked assertively at Buck as if he wanted to make sure he had Buck's attention. All right, he must have clearly misunderstood something. Buck shook his head in an attempt to suppress his desire to taste Tommy's lips again for a moment and forced himself to focus on his eyes instead. Tommy nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. "More."

It took Buck a few seconds to register the remaining two words that Tommy had said earlier and even longer to remember what they were talking about just before the kiss. When he did, however, he let out a quiet laugh, a little confused. "A-about cartoon light bulbs?"

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "About brain. Or anything, really," he shrugged. "What else do you know?" he asked, his eyes scanning Buck's face almost as if he was admiring some piece of art. Buck felt his heart pound in his chest as if he had just run a marathon. His cheeks suddenly got unusually warm.

"Um," he closed his eyes, trying to come up with another fact he had read recently in the Encyclopedia of the Human Brain. God, if he hadn't ruined the mood earlier on his own, now Tommy was about to make him. He opened his eyes and looked at Tommy again. "So... The information from our bodies to our brains can travel up to, I- I think, even 350 miles per hour."

Tommy nodded, taking his words in, and raised his eyebrows. "So if I do this–" he started, placing his hand on the bulge of Buck's trousers, which made Buck immediately hiss in response. "–you're going to feel it pretty damn fast, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Buck nodded, perhaps a little too fast for his liking, and this time he finally managed to pull Tommy back into another kiss. He grabbed the side of his shirt and started pulling it up as much as he was able to, hoping that Tommy would take the hint and remove the shirt himself. And when he did, Buck couldn't help but smile triumphantly.

He was just about to grab Tommy's lips with his own again when Tommy suddenly changed course, his lips landing on Buck's jawline and slowly making their way down his neck. Buck closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He was already breathing pretty heavily, but at the moment he couldn't care less. In between the kisses, he heard Tommy's voice again, "Go on."

Buck let out a low sound from the back of his throat, his brain already having a hard time focusing on anything else but Tommy's touch. "Um, the- the brain can't multitask," he said, almost like a plea, and Tommy laughed, warm air hitting Buck's skin. He felt goosebumps forming all over his body.

"If you want this to carry on, yours will have to do it somehow," Tommy replied cheekily, and started gently sucking on Buck's skin right next to his collarbone. Buck moaned Tommy's name a little louder than necessary and laid his hand on the back of Tommy's neck. All of this felt so ridiculously good. It shouldn't really be surprising because he had always loved sex. But was it ever this exciting? It must have... Right? Tommy pulled back slightly to give himself a moment to breathe and Buck took this opportunity to get rid of his own shirt. Tommy grinned at the sight and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Buck's swollen lips. "Continue," he whispered into his mouth before he sloppily carried his lips back to Buck's neck, his hands finding the zipper of Buck's trousers.

Buck felt his heart pump blood like crazy, feeling both extremely frustrated that Tommy was making him focus on those trivial things instead of fully immersing himself in Tommy's touch, but also excited because, for some weird reason, this whole interaction made Buck even more aroused. Is talking about brain really this sexy? Why then didn't he feel the need to jerk off when he was actually reading about it? Or is it rather because Tommy actually takes interest in what he has to say no matter the place and time? Whatever it was, though, he was going to dwell on it later. The only problem in Buck's head right now was that they had only just started and he was already running out of fun brain facts to say. He might have to be forced to start improvising. He's by no means religious, but for their make-out session to stop this early would be a sin. And this once he really felt like complying with God's will. No matter what, the show must go on.

tommy loves when evan gets in fun fact mode (in or out of the bedroom) and it makes sex even more fun for both of them. it’s one of buck’s favourite discoveries about his relationship with tommy: that all of him is wanted, appreciated, encouraged, and supported.

[taesanluv3r]

coming home.

park sungho x reader

another beabadoobee song inspired sungho fic because he's just so fit for it </3 also in honor of coming home coming out so soon! established relationship, domestic sungho TT so cute :3 lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors. enjoy <3

wc: 1,552

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i wonder if she's even still awake..."

park sungho sighs as he stares out the window of the taxi, a yawn escaping his mouth as he looks over at the time on the screen of the radio. it was almost midnight. you might be wondering where the idol boy was headed to so late like this, and to entertain your guesses, he wasn't on his way to a music show, nor was he on his way back to his dorms. in fact, the boy was just leaving from there, and he was on his way over to her. to her small one bedroom apartment that they shared when he had his days off of work.

those kinds of breaks were quite rare for a rising star like him, but he makes sure to come home to her every chance he got. back home to his girlfriend, yn ln, and their pet cat, cheese. yes, his name is really cheese. no, this is not a joke. yes, yn and sungho are fully grown adults. leave them alone! cheese is a cute name!

the park guy arrives at the foot of the building's entrance, he made sure to tip the taxi driver before getting off and bidding the man a good night. sungho takes the lift to the fifteenth floor, making a turn to the left and walking straight to the door at the very end of the dark, and almost ghostly, hallway. he doesn't ring the bell in fear she might be asleep. reaching for his keys inside of his bag, the boy unlocks the door as quietly as he can before entering the warm apartment. the lights are off and not a noise can be heard. well, apart from the soft purring coming from the sleepy feline curled up on the living room couch. sungho smiles at the sight, bending down to level with his pet and beginning to stroke at its white and orange fur. cheese woke up from his sweet dreams, nuzzling into his dad's hand, the ticklish feeling of his hair causing a light giggle to escape the guy's lips. "is your mother asleep?" he whispered, asking the clueless kitty about his girlfriend he was yet to see. laughing at himself for conversing with the animal, the boy places a peck against its head before getting up to make his way over to the bedroom, and his girlfriend, that awaited him.

the door isn't fully shut, it was never fully shut. the girl always kept it open slightly just in case their cat wanted to enter, or in the case that her boyfriend had spontaneously come home- like tonight. it creaks a little as he softly pushes against it, a loving look washing over his face when the girl he'd been longing for was finally in his line of sight. yn sprawled out on her bed, her feet sticking out of one end of her blanket and her head stuffed comfortably against her silk pillows, her arms wrapped tightly around the plush teddy-bear he had gifted her for valentine's day that year. to the outside eye the girl did not look her best at the moment, her mouth hung opened and soft snores came right out of it as she basked in her slumber. but to the boy, she always looked beautiful, like an angel that had fallen from the sky and came down just to grace him with her presence.

sungho stares for just a moment longer before fully entering the room, a peppermint scent flowing in through his nose from the essential oils she had dropped into the humidifier plugged into the socket in the very corner of the space. the smell calms him, sighing in content as he walks closer to her, a single finger grazing against her skin as he tucks the messy strands of her hair behind her ear. the boy presses a kiss against her cheek, smiling when her face scrunches up and her body turns to snuggle deeper into the sheets. he straightens his back, stepping out of the bedroom and into the bathroom across from it to wash up a little and get into a more comfortable set of clothes. he re-enters the sleeping space once he's done, jumping slightly at his cat's glowing eyes in the darkness, cheese had let himself in. sungho crawls under the sheets, holding his breath as he pulls yn into his chest, careful not to wake her up.

and then he, too, falls fast asleep.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

yn ln wakes up to the sound of water running and a clinking of plates being moved around from the kitchen. she gets out of bed, walking sleepily with her eyes still half-closed into the main space of her little apartment. her bed-ridden face disappears when she catches a glimpse of her boyfriend for the first time, sungho scrubbing away at the dishes in the sink, the water bubbling up into foam from the soap. the girl speeds over to him, hugging him tightly from behind. "you're home! i missed you so much" she whispers, her voice still raspy from just waking up. he chuckles, "i've missed you too, my love" the boy grins, leaning down to the side to press a sweet kiss on her cheek, her nose scrunching up as she leans in to place one on his lips. a soft meow interrupts their moment, the couple's gazes turning towards the cat that had begun circling the floors of the unit. his head was tilted off to the side and somewhat of an angry look had been displayed onto his face, so as to say, 'i'm hungry! feed me, human!" yn laughs, finding her pet's person-like gestures hilarious, and she opens up the cupboard above her head, sungho's eyes following as she pulls out the bag of cat food. he smiles happily as he watched his girlfriend bend down, patting cheese's fluffy little head before filling up his orange bowl with the fish-shaped treats.

"darling?" he called out, causing her to turn and face him, a hum in response. "could you help me put away the clean dishes, please?" his voice was just so sweet, it never failed to melt her heart, no matter how many times she's heard him speak before. "mhm" she says, walking over to stand beside him near the sink, carefully picking up the plates he had rinsed clean of any soap, wiping them dry with a cloth before returning them to their designated spots in the cupboard. sungho hums along to a familiar tune, you're here that's the thing by beabadoobee, one of her favourite songs. the sound of his voice makes her blush a little, she sings along with him as they continue their conversation-less tasks. the boy rinses off the remaining soap in his hands, wiping them dry after passing her the final set of clean cutlery. he kisses the top of her head, a giggle escaping her lips at the fuzzy feeling that began to grow in her stomach.

"i'll take out the trash" he says and she nods, "but don't take too long, i might miss you too much" yn coos, shooting him a little pout and a pair of silly doe eyes that just turns him into mush. "i'll be back before you know it, love" and he kept his word, leaving and re-entering her apartment unit just in time for her to finish putting away the clean dishes. "ah!" she squeals when both of his large arms pulled her towards his chest, moving to grab at her shoulders and spinning her around to face him. the girl sighs, sticking her face deeper into the cotton material of his plain white t-shirt, breathing in his scent. the boy's fingers twirl in her hair, peppering about a billion kisses all over it. she looks up at him, chin still pressed against his chest. "what's for breakfast?" yn asked, eyes closing momentarily when his lips leaned against her forehead. "hm..." his eyes wandered upwards, as if he were thinking so very deeply. "what if we just..." sungho begins, both his hands intertwining with hers as he began to walk forwards, guiding her as she did so backwards. "let's just go back to bed for a bit and think about breakfast later" yn laughs at her boyfriend's suggestion, her back pushing against the door and her elbow on it's handle, bringing the couple back into the cold bedroom.

as usual, the door remained open, allowing for their grumpy little cat to crawl onto the covers with them. the couple laid down in each other's arms, her head against his abdomen and his hand grazing against the exposed skin of her arm, mindlessly doodling imaginary images onto it. the white and orange feline purred quietly, snuggling himself in between his parents. sungho moves his hand to pet his fur, laughing when yn grabs onto it to return it into her hair. "i love you so much" she whispers, turning on her side slightly so that he was fully in view. he smiles, tucking away the strand of hair that fell against her eyes. "i love you too, darling..." the boy trails off, scooting closer to hold her tighter into his grasp.

"and i'm sorry if i keep coming home too late"

the end.

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i'm crying i love sungho so much </3 also i can't wait for coming home to be released i'm gonna listen to that song like CRAZY!! anyways, hope u guys enjoyed this!! also, i made the text smaller this time cause it looks so pretty, lmk if it bothers u tho. reblogs n feedback r always appreciated!! love, kona.

[crguang]

kafka with prompt 9 fluff please

domestic bliss with kafka after a mission, yeah… <3

The low bedroom light and the scent of clean linen are making you doze off. The shower runs in the adjacent bathroom, its patter a comforting tune that has you burrowing further into soft sheets and fluffy pillows. It’s warm enough that you don’t need a blanket to cover you for the time being. Each blink becomes slower than the next. Beyond the large windows next to the bed you’re laying on the skyline glints with distant stars, some of which you’ve only learned about earlier this evening when you were strolling through the city’s marketplace and overheard a mother teaching her daughter the constellations. From the hotel’s 50th floor, with nothing but rooftops and the night sky outside, it feels a little like you’re back in space traveling with the rest of the Stellaron Hunters. You haven’t seen some of them in a while, the script brought you to different worlds but you find reassurance in knowing that it will also bring you back together eventually. It always does, somehow. In a way, you’re not only working towards achieving your own destiny, but theirs as well. Each of you are building blocks in each other’s predetermined end, the strings of fate link you together like intertwined fingers tugging you forward.

You don’t remember when you closed your eyes but the shower stops running and they sluggishly blink open as your brain registers the sound of curtains being drawn. You bring a hand to rub your eye. Minutes later, a door opens and the shower steam seeps into the room, adding to the existing warmth and disturbing the careful balance of the thermostat.

“Open a window,” you mumble tiredly, adjusting your position to lay on your back. The yellow lights display soft shadows on the ceiling.

A low sigh reaches your ears, then the window opens a crack and lets the streets’ commotion intrude on your down time. You can faintly make out a car’s horn, but the rest of the road’s racket eventually all melts together to create background noise. The bed dips and you sit up against the pillows. Kafka sits with her back to you, plugging the blow dryer into the electrical socket before fiddling with its settings. She was in the shower for almost half an hour, her hair is still damp from the water and there’s a white towel around her shoulders to keep her clothes dry. You shift closer to her frame and wrap your arms around her waist, your cheek resting on her lower back. She doesn’t stiffen, unsurprised by your behavior, only lowers the tool in her hand.

“What took you so long? I missed you…”

Fatigue influences both your words and their delivery, they’re uttered quietly and somewhat sluggishly. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open for a long period of time.

An endeared chuckle rises in Kafka’s throat. “There was blood in my hair.”

“I told you there would be.”

“Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t going to wear that hideous hat.”

“That hideous hat saved my hair.”

Kafka doesn’t respond but you know she’s rolling her eyes. She turns the blow drawer on and starts carefully running it through her hair. The noise grinds your tired ears, you tighten your hold on her waist and close your eyes. The mission completely exhausted you, it was more physically demanding than the ones you’re used to. You don’t have Kafka or Blade’s stamina, so it’s a normal occurrence for you to fall asleep before the rest of the group. You shared a room with Silver Wolf once and she spent the night on her computer, cursing during co-op games— never again. The others are relatively quiet but Kafka’s your favorite despite her elusive ways, you sleep easier when she has a whole night to spare you.

You wait until she deems each lock of hair dry enough and unplugs the blow dryer. She makes a move to stand and you squeeze her tighter to keep her where she is. You hear a long sigh that holds no malice. Kafka wraps the cord around the blow dryer and puts it down on the nightstand, then slides the towel from her shoulders to throw it on the chair in the farthest corner of the room.

She pats the forearm holding her against you with a hand. “Move over.”

You obey her command, letting go of her to sit on your knees as you watch her put her hair up in a high bun before she reclines on the bed over the covers, comfortably settling into the pillows. Her expression is amused when she regards you, eyes slightly narrowed and that usual smile on her lips. Her brow raises, expectant, and you move to lay next to her with a hand laid flat on her stomach under her shirt and a leg over hers trapping her next to you. You bury your nose in her chest; she smells like the same citrus soap you used in the shower before she went in and a short hum of contentment escapes you. You feel her fingers on the back of your neck leisurely wandering over your shoulder blades. The touch is familiar, soothing, and you feel sleep rapidly creep up on you.

“After the dome tomorrow, we have to go back to the marketplace,” your speech is slow but Kafka doesn’t rush you, “I have to get that butterfly hairpin for Firefly. I forgot.”

“Mm. That’s the wrong insect.”

“They look the same.”

“They do not. Fireflies are beetles.”

You click your tongue. “Whatever, Kafka. They both have wings and it looks pretty.”

“Why do we have to go?”

You raise your head slightly to look at her with furrowed brows. Your sleepy, affronted face makes her suppress a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got somewhere to be?”

The corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. She traces the back of your ear and rubs your earlobe between two fingers.

“Of course not.” Her reply means to appease you. Tomorrow, she’ll find a way to distract you long enough for her to slip out of your sight and fulfill her own plans before you notice she left.

You settle back against her chest. A yawn makes your eyes water as you shut them. “That’s what I thought.”

The room is warm, Kafka’s warmer, and a tender breeze blows from the open window. You’re so at ease that you could fall asleep in minutes.

“You’re a baby.”

“I’m your baby,” your mumbled words are almost incomprehensible.

You don’t see Kafka’s smile widen, only feel her hand tangling in your hair. Everything is quiet, your breathing slows with each passing moment and the faint thumping of her heart beneath your ear sings you to sleep. Kafka gazes down at you, eyelids heavy, and her free fingertips brush the soft skin of your cheek.

“Good night, baby.”