#Wedge Screws

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

👍 Wedge anchor All production processes are inside our factory

[sightofsea]

it's the moooooost wonderful tiiiiiime of the yeeeeeeaaarrrr (lugging my 12 and 8k BTU a/c units out of the basement)

[pyjamaenzel]

after the yearly struggle of getting AC units into our apartment windows:

Me: Aki, if we ever get a house. I don't care what it costs.

Aki: ?

Me: we will NOT have fucking vinyl windows!!!!!!

[delcat177]

OP, can you confirm/deny any relations to a certain Bergholt Stuttley Johnson, formerly of Ankh-Morpork? If you haven't collaborated yet, you should.

my family is fucking addicted to macgyvering and it's becoming a problem. every time something in this house breaks, instead of doing the sensible thing of replacing it or calling someone qualified to fix it, we all group around the offending object with a manic look in our eyes and everyone gets a try at fixing it while being cheered on or ridiculed by the rest.

it's a beautiful bonding activity, but the "creative" fixes have turned our house into a quasihaunted escape room like contraption where everything works, but only in the wonkiest of ways. you need a huge block of iron to turn on the stove. the oven only works if a specific clock is plugged in. the bread machine has a huge wood block just stapled to it that has become foundational to its function. sometimes when you use the toaster the doorbell rings. and that's just the kitchen.

it's all fun and games until you have guests over and you have to lay out the rules of the house like it's a fucking board game. welcome to the beautiful guest room. don't pull out the couch yourself you need a screwdriver for that, and that metal rod makes the lamp work so don't move it. it also made me a terrifying roommate in college, because it makes me think i can fix anything with enough hubris and a drill. you want to call the landlord about a leaky faucet? as if. one time my dad made me install a new power socket because we ran our of extension cords

[chososcutie]

MAKE THAT PULL-OUT GAME WEAK!

synopsis❤︎: jjk men when they 'accidentally' cum inside..

featuring❤︎: gojo, toji, nanami, & choso

tags❤︎: fem!reader, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, premature ejaculations, breeding kink, praise, petnames, office sex, voyeurism, needy!men, submissiveness, slight dubcon

SATORU GOJO

“h-hah baby.. fuck!” satoru throws his head back, hips arching upward as you bounce on his cock reverse cowgirl style.

he looved this position for a variety of reasons, mostly because of the way your ass would move, reaching out to squeeze a handful of the soft, supple globes and watching as your pussy greedily swallowed every inch, slamming up and down on him repeatedly, echoing smacks! of skin on skin filling the room.

you had been going for quite some time now, your hips never faltering as satoru feels his taut stomach grow even achingly knottier, each heaving breath an effort as his eyes fall half-lidded.

“s-slow down.. mmph!” he moans as you pause, only to roll and gyrate your hips, cock molding your gummy insides perfectly as his thickened tip hits deep into your cervix, dragging swelteringly hot strokes back n’ forth as the sensitive veins lining his dick thump thump!

“such a biiig stretch..” you toss him a look over your shoulder, eyelashes lowered and fluttering, and your cheeks flushed. “feels s’good ‘toru..”

he closes his eyes briefly, the coil in his stomach tightening as your sticky thighs and dripping cunt hover over him and raise yourself up and down, riding him into oblivion with a mischievous little smile.

you knew what you were doing.

his hands come to your hips, helping you to bounce faster, feeling your pussy clamp tight before spasming, a slutty little moan drifting out of your mouth as you cream all over his cock, drenching him in honeyed slick. “mmph.. cumming, cumming..!”

and as your cunt tightens and clenches hard around him, until every ridge and vein of his is contoured to your warm, plush walls, it’s all too much.

“baby..! get off! get off!”

satoru tries to warn you desperately of his furiously fast-approaching orgasm, his cock throbbing deep into you, as he tries to hold off and lift you off him, but you’re too far gone, coming down from your own climax with euphoria.

he screws his eyes shut tightly, trying to last but then you wriggle your hips, wedging him deeper, pussy squeezing like a vice and it’s over.

endless spurts of ribbons n’ ribbons of creamy white pulse into you as steadily, satoru’s grip on your hips pins you down on top of him while he fills you up, a milky white ring forming around his base as he sucks in gasping heaves of breath.

you shudder, your voice coming out in a whine. “s’toru are you.. cumming?”

his cock is still drooling stringy wads as his answer comes strained and breathless. “fuck.. m’sorry baby. i couldn’t.. pull out.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“please doll.. need you s’bad.” rough palms slide up your stomach to cup your breasts, toji’s veiny, thickened tip bumping your entrance as he leans over you, jagged scar on his lip coming to brush your cheek gruffly as he pleads with you.

“b-but we don’t have an.. ah.. condom!” you manage to breathe, your body betraying you as it squirms and tries to align itself with toji’s round, pulsing cock head, smearing the sloshing slick of your cunt back n’ forth with a hoarse grunt.

“i can pull out.. heh.” his already sweaty forehead is pressed to yours, head drooping downward as he sucks in feverish breath after feverish breath, hips slightly grinding against the plush softness of your tummy for relief.

your legs part slightly, revealing the beads of shimmery sheen dripping from between your thighs, your need palpable from the way your puffy clit twitches and throbs. “o-okay.. just please.”

he chuckles lowly at the sight, voice catching in a slight growl as he slots himself between, heavy jumping cock resting against you.

he splays a big hand across your stomach, just above your belly button, and you feel him start to push in, chubbed inch by inch. “gonna feel me all the way here..” he pushes down slightly on the growing bulge steadily sheathing itself deep inside you.

you moan out something caught between a whimper and a plead, and with one sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, bludgeony tip prodding into your cervix and heavy balls smacking against your ass.

and he’s already moving, one hand coming to your throat, holding you down as he ravages you, shamelessly throwing his head back and grunting.

you had never felt him raw before, and your glassy eyes rolled back at how every delicious vein, curve, and ridge of his cock was plummeting inside you, shaping your insides to fit him perfectly.

“ohh.. so mm’ fucking tight..” he growls softly, slamming his hips roughly into you, grip bruising as he hits your cushy, sweet spot repeatedly, watching your face contort in drunken pleasure, lascivious drool pouring out of your slacken jaw. “feels even better without a.. hah.. piece of rubber in the way.”

thick digits wander down to your puffy bud, rubbing slow circles as you squirm, whining how close you are, before all of a sudden, you’re cumming hard, absolutely drenching toji’s muscular lower abdominals in your squirt, his nasty hips reeling back before suddenly pausing.

“did you jus’..” he shudders, hips twitching frantically as he begins to pull out, but he’s too slow as his sudden orgasm washes over him all at once, hot, sweltering gushes of seed that fill you to the very brim of your overstuffed cunt, so much pouring out in creamy sheens, it has your stomach bulging and sloshing with it all.

“toooji..” you whine, peering at how gooey wads of white dribble down your thighs messily, clearly not having pulled out.

and still cumming, he looks up at you sheepishly with glossy eyes.

"wan' be a pretty mama, doll? 'cause you just might be after this.."

KENTO NANAMI

nanami was a practical man, he worked hard at his office, he was sweet to you even during intimacy, his hands were always gentle and composed, and he definitely didn’t forget protection.

but that all went out the window the second you, his pretty wife came to visit him at his office, bringing along a special lunch you had cooked just for him, knowing how stressed and overworked your poor husband was.

and a few minutes later, with his sloppy hips pistoning in and out of you, and your tits pressed harshly against his desk with your cheek squished against his neatly stacked paperwork, it turned out he was hungry for something else..

“got all dolled up jus’ f’me?” he coos softly, slamming his reddened cock, blushing and beading pearly precum at the tip in n’ out roughly, your skirt and panties bunched up at your waist carelessly, visible to anyone who walks by kento’s office.

but he doesn’t seem to care, usually neatly trimmed blonde hair sticking to his forehead sweatily, plunging himself so deep into you, you swear you can feel him all the way in your throat, a dumb little fucked-out expression on your face as you cling onto the rattling desk for dear life, back arched so sluttily as his hands grasp tightly onto your hips, rolling you back n' forth onto his cock, you're surprised no one else hears the filthily wet noises echoing throughout the office.

“darling, i might have to pull out..” he sucks in gasping heaves of breath, brows knitting together almost painfully as he tries to hold off his oncoming orgasm, placing his hands on your hips gently to slide himself out of your gummy warmth, much to your dismay.

“w-wait, m’so closeee!” you whine, backing up steadily into him to suck in more of his fat cock. “just a lil’ longer, c’mon..”

and oh, who was nanami to say no to his darling wife?

with a winding tightness in his stomach, he fucks into you harder, hips slapping against you with every thrust, until you’re whining, messy tears spilling from your eyes as your scorching hot walls clamp so tight around him, he couldn’t pull out if he tried.

and then you’re cumming, your pussy drooling your saturated shimmery essence, and fluttering around nanami’s sensitive, twitching dick.

“honey.. ngh!”

and that’s all he can say, before he’s absolutely dumping loads n’ loads of sticky white seed into your clamping pussy, euphoria overtaking his senses as he drills his cock deeper, forcing you to take every last drop.

"fuck sweetheart!" he curses low as his hips snap ferally into yours, unable to stop the copious amounts of hot white cum he's endlessly spurting into you, your traitorous cunt milking him for all he's worth as you squeak in surprise.

"kentooo.." you watch his milky dredges drip! drip! drip! out of your messy, sloppy pussy, folds stickily glued together, as his hand comes almost reverently to push on the little bump in your stomach, watching in awe as all of his creamy ropes instantly gush out of you generously.

"sorry honey.." his voice is raspy, strained, but his eyes are heavy-lidded and filled with desire. "but this makes me think.. wan' have a baby?"

CHOSO KAMO

your plushy thighs sprawl apart under the frantically panting man above you, practically ripping your panties off as he nuzzles his cock between your thighs, humping softly with needy little tears pricking at his dark, fluttering lashes.

“i knooow i didn’t bring a condom..” he whines, thick leaky member pulsating steadily in between you, thickened mushroomy head ever so slightly bumping the entrance of your pussy as he pleads.

"buut i'll be good, swear! m'gonna.. hah.. pull out! please just let me.."

his dick nestles itself in between your sappy sticky folds, choso's hips rutting animalistically back n' forth between them, barely restraining himself from just plunging into your hot, gooey walls right then and there.

"s'okay cho.." you whisper, stroking through his messy black space buns and tugging slightly, causing a whine to leave his throat. "just fuck me."

instantly his hands are fumbling to wrap around your waist, as he sloowly pushes himself in, groaning at your tight clamping muscles of resistance as you squeeze around him tightly.

you had always used protection, so the feeling of him going in raw was completely unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

every throbbing vein, pulsing ridge, and his hot bulbous tip pressed directly into your cervix is magnified, making the room hot n' humid, choso's feverish forehead dropping onto yours with a pathetic little moan.

experimentally, he pulls out until only the tip is inside you before slamming himself back in harshly, the wet sound of skin on skin echoing as he quickly finds a pace, fucking you roughly, with your legs intertwined behind his back.

you moan softly as his hefty balls slap into your ass with every thrust, tits pressed against his sweaty bare chest only heightening your sensations until you're so close to cumming, you can taste it, your vision starting to blacken at the corners.

choso is close too, obviously not able to last very long with the feeling of your bare pussy wrapped around him like a vice, his grunts turning breathier and needier as he feels his stomach go taut.

and just as he's about to regretfully pull out of your warm, welcoming cunt, you squeal, legs tightening around his back and effectively trapping him as you gush all over his poor, sensitive cock, stringy drools of your slick running down all along your thighs messily.

"uungh..! baby! baby open your legs!" he tries to get out, but he's barely able to finish the last word before he's absolutely spurting heaps of buttery seed, unable to stop as he shudders, hips stuttering and bucking into you sloppily.

you have a cute little flushed look on your face as you come down from your high, staring at where you two are connected, and watching choso's hot, slithery ropes seep out of you steadily with a little giggle.

you shift, widening your legs as you press a kiss to his nose. "s'okay cho, i'm on the pill."

he lets out a shameless whimper, throwing his head back as his hips press further into you. "that's good 'cause m'still cumming.."

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

[thedirtpath]

"Gojo, you talk too much."

Nanami's voice is hoarse as he rocks his hips into yours, hands groping at your ass as he fucks you from behind. He's trying to focus on how good you feel squeezing down on his pulsing length but Gojo just won't shut up.

"Well this pretty thing—" Gojo adjusts himself, sliding his lengthy cock into your mouth as deep as you'll take him, "—can't talk with their mouth full. So I'm doing it for the both of us. Feels so fucking good taking my dick down your throat, huh baby? So full of us you can't even speak? Sucks that Nanami over there is too much of a grouch to appreciate pulling the long straw and getting your sweet pretty— ooohhhh fuck."

Nanami, sick of his white-haired counterparts rambling, snaps his hips forward, fucking deep into you and sending you jolting forward to force Gojo an inch deeper into your throat. A little mean to you, perhaps, but he'll apologize for that later with his mouth on you. It shuts Gojo up, at least—and to be perfectly honest Kento doesn't hate the sight of the cocky sorcerer with his face screwed up in pleasure like this.

Maybe he'll wedge Gojo between himself and you next: make you sit on Satoru's cock whilst Nanami puts his loud, obnoxious mouth to better use than words.

[the-unofficial-village-idiot]

HEY, HEY, WALT CALLED JUNIOR 'JESSE' WHILE DRUNK AND ON PAINKILLERS

[lpsbossard]

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[molybdochalkos]

The duality of Emily Axford: the session where she dramatically faked her goth manic pixie dream girl persona's death on the front lawn of the guy she had been gaslighting for the last few months in an attempt to drive a wedge in their party (insane, unhinged, what was the goal here) is the same session where she flawlessly fed Porter the wrong name for the corrupted god he was trying to usurp, probably foiling his plan and screwing over his ritual before it could even start (insane, genius, galaxy-brained). Truly, the most unpredictable player of all time. There is no middle ground.

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

FIXDEX eta approved wedge anchor through bolt

[shoresdevelopment]

Types of Simple Machines https://shores.rocks/blog/simple-machines/types-of-simple-machines/?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=ReviveOldPost

[phosph-ate]

Picture

Dr. Phosphorus x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You surprise your boss with a picture while he's trying to work. He is not amused.

CW: SMUT! 18+! Masturbation, screwing around in an office, praise, begging, he burns your clothes off, no use of y/n, no pronouns used for reader, reader is fem bodied though

WC: 1.4k

A/N: My BFF requested this! From this prompt list, numbers 18 and 49! I got carried away... If you would like to send in prompts, feel free, those are currently open! This is also written when Phos was in his Boss Era! Divider by cafekitsune

You were humming to yourself, sifting through papers as you sat at your boss’ desk. You were checking numbers, going over expenses, when you heard it. Footsteps stomping down the hall, right towards the office.

A smile spread across your face. Finally, you thought, he saw it. You put the papers down and watched as the door flung open. You are honestly surprised he did not burn through it.

“What the fuck!?” Dr. Phosphorus was ablaze. Literally.

“What?” You smiled at him innocently. He closed the door, gently, and seemed to be thinking about his next move. You watched in entertainment. Your smile widened and you looked back down at some papers. “If you need anything-” You started, “-you can tell me. I’m just sorting some stuff.”

“Oh…” He would have narrowed his eyes at you if he could have. “I understand.”

You continued like nothing had happened. “Understand what, Boss?” You were fighting back laughter at that point. “I’m just doing what you asked of me.”

Phosphorus nodded and brought you something. Something charred and burnt. A phone. Your eyes widened momentarily. You swallowed hard. “Did you burn that?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yes.”

Your jaw clenched and you took in a shaky breath. You had sort of expected that. But nothing to that extent. Your eyes looked back at the horribly melted phone he set on the desk. You exhaled loudly and looked up at him. He stood on the other side of the desk, but he looked like he was about to fly over it. But not in anger.

“They almost saw you.”

Your smile returned. “But they didn’t?” You asked. That obviously was not the point. You let out a low laugh. “I texted John to give you his phone, when I just knew you had it, I sent the picture.”

“Do you seriously think it’s funny? Sending me shit like that while I’m at work!?” Phosphorus was upset, but you could tell it was not just anger. He was frustrated. Sexually. “What if someone else had seen that picture?” He was not laughing, but you thought it was hilarious.

You stood up from your seat and leaned towards your boss. “Then they’d know who I belonged to, sir.”

Phosphorus almost lost it. He was silent, but only for a moment. He seemed to be malfunctioning. “What?” His voice was low. It sent a chill down your spine. You froze up. “Repeat that.”

You blinked a few times, stunned. “They would know I’m yours, Boss.”

Phosphorus wished he could grin wider. His permanent smile would have to do. “You’re being serious?” He sounded excited. Ready to pounce all over again. “Tell me now, we don’t have to do this.”

Your nails dragged across your scalp, and you looked away momentarily. You looked back at him with a yearning he was sure you would never have for him. “I’m dead fucking serious. I wouldn’t send that picture if I wasn’t.” The desk was still between the two of you. “How much of it did you see? Before you blew up the phone?”

“Oh,” He dragged out the word and you smiled, “I saw everything, dear.” He motioned for you to come around the desk. You did not deny him. You moved around it, and he took a step back. You immediately moved into the space he had been, wedging yourself between the desk and your boss. “I saw how you were sitting, right here,” He easily picked you up and set you on the desk. You squeaked in response. “I saw your lacy black panties, and I know for a fact you are not wearing a bra.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling shy. Phosphorus pushed between your thighs and his hands grabbed your hips. He moved closer to you, face inches from yours. “Did you like it?” You asked, mouth going dry.

“I loved it.” He growled out. He was obviously trying hard to control his flames. “I need you-” He was breathless.

“Here?” Your hand was on his chest. “In the office?” Dr. Phosphorus got a nod in before you ultimately agreed. “Okay!” Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pulled him as close as possible to you. Your hands cupped his face. You stared at him, taking the moment in.

“You can kiss me, you know.”

You lit up. It was almost as if that did not cross your mind, being able to do that. You instantly started kissing his face. As you kissed him you felt heat on your abdomen. You pulled away and saw your shirt disintegrating. You gasped and covered your chest. “Alex!” You never called him Alex; it was always Boss or Sir. “What the-”

“Sorry,” He did sound apologetic. “Got excited.”

“That was expensive…” You sat there, covering your breasts.

“Don’t worry about the clothes, I'll just buy you new ones.” Dr. Phosphorus sounded smug. You sighed and nodded. “You should really call me Alex more often,” His hand moved to your wrist. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

You looked at him as if he had hung the moon and stars. You sucked in air, and you felt a sudden surge of confidence. You removed your hands from your chest, “If you’re going to buy me more clothes… You might as well get rid of all of them, huh?” You smiled, soft and sweet. He was wrapped around your finger.

Dr. Phosphorus could not agree more. Phosphorus’ hands moved to your thighs, and he burned away your pants. Before you knew it, you were naked, on a silver platter before him. You sat on the desk in front of him and he looked at you, all of you. He took everything in.

“Can’t believe it…” He muttered. “You’re all mine.” Phosphorus moved behind you and pushed the papers off the desk. “Scoot back.” You followed his orders and pushed yourself further onto the desk, near the middle of it. “Touch yourself.”

“What?” You were baffled. “I want you to touch me!” You whined.

“Follow my orders and I’m sure you’ll get what you want.” He pulled a chair out and sat down, a little way from you. You pouted at him. “I promise.” He watched you closely.

You nodded. Fine, I have to do everything myself, you kept that thought to yourself. You pulled a leg onto the desk and let the one dangle over the floor. You pushed a finger into your entrance and your head rolled back. You were already wet from your earlier interaction and even earlier dirty thoughts about your boss. Yor finger slid in, and your thumb circled your clit. You let out a soft mewl and Phosphorus hummed.

“Good,” He praised you. “You’re being so obedient.” You wanted him. Your eyes shut and your hips gently rolled into your hand. “Look at me,” Phosphorus’ voice was stern. “I want to see how good you feel.”

You followed his orders, as always. “Alex,” You moaned. Your eyes hit him, and he seemed to be concentrating on you. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. He was watching.

Another finger slipped inside of you and your pace quickened. You were quick to find what made you feel the best, even if you wondered if your boss would lend you a hand if you acted like you did not know what you were doing. Your eyes were half lidded at that point, barely able to stay open.

“I need you, Alex…” You cried out for him, finger swirling over your clit again. “Please-”

“I know,” He cooed from his seat. “You’re doing so good though, I want you to cum for me.”

It did not take much more than that. Your toes were curling, and your body was tensing. There was a white-hot fire in your stomach. You let out a short cry, moaning his name as you came undone. You were seeing stars, your eyes had shut tight, and your body shook momentarily.

You heard Dr. Phosphorus get up and when you squinted your eyes open, you saw him standing before you. You caught your breath and quickly leaned against him, head resting against his coat. “You did so good,” His hand ran down your side, sending chills down your spine. “We have the rest of the night together.” He informed you. “I got the others to cover what I was doing, for now. So, you are mine for the next eight hours.”

No words had ever made you happier.

[lowkeyren]

—close call.

in which : crammed in a maintenance closet with boothill, his audacious plan saves you both from the ipc —but not without leaving your heart racing for reasons far beyond fear.

pairing : boothill x gn!reader

wc 1.4k, "enemies" with tension, forced proximity, banter banter banter, reader implied to be a galaxy ranger + shorter than him, flirting (re: dialogue. he's a tease), reblogs r much appreciated!! enjoy <3

from event req: here ; art by @/kiu30750

the rain hammers down on the tin roof above, its rhythmic pounding the only sound aside from your ragged breaths and the distant shouts of the ipc agents scouring the area. you barely managed to wedge yourself into the maintenance closet with boothill; and now, here you are —cramped, drenched, and undeniably screwed.

pressed chest-to-chest with him, the infamous galaxy ranger whose charm is as notorious as his tendency to get into trouble, you can’t decide which is worse: the likelihood of getting caught or the suffocating proximity.

“just wonderful,” you mutter under your breath, voice dripping with sarcasm. you shift, trying to create even an inch of breathing room. though it’s hopeless; the movement only presses you tighter against his chest, and the slight tilt of his wide-brimmed hat brushes your ear, sending an uninvited shiver down your spine.

boothill, as infuriating as ever, doesn’t seem the least bit shaken by the situation. if anything, his composure is maddeningly relaxed, a sharp contrast to the rapid thuds of your heart and the faint shuffling of ipc agents just beyond the door; as though you aren’t currently hiding from people who would gladly haul you both in —or worse.

“things would’ve gone better if you hadn’t tripped the alarm back there,” you hiss.

he lifts an eyebrow, eyes narrow slightly as he glances down at you. “me? yer the one who—”

before he can finish, you press your hand over his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. his words die against your palm, leaving only the thrum of his breath against your skin. but even that is drowned out by the frantic beating of your hearts, the air thick and suffocating as you both listen intently to the shuffling sounds just outside the door.

you can hear footsteps drawing nearer, the unmistakable clink of weapons being adjusted, the subtle scrape of boots on metal. your pulse quickens, the pressure in your chest building with each passing second. you instinctively press your hand harder over boothill’s mouth, a desperate attempt to suppress even the smallest sound.  

his skin is surprisingly warm pressed against you —a sharp contrast to the coolness of his metal body, making the entire sensation feel disturbingly real.

"ya gonna fudgin' suffocate me if yer press so hard," he mutters, the words barely audible under your hand. his fingers wrap around your wrist, firm but careful, and he gently pulls your hand away from his mouth. 

before you can retort, the sharp sound of the lock breaking pierces the tension between you. both of you snap your heads toward the door just as it starts to creak open. without hesitation, boothill reaches out and kicks a broom across the floor, jamming it under the handle to hold the door shut —for now. 

the door rattles violently as the ipc agents push against it, the muffled voices on the other side growing louder. each thud against the flimsy barricade reverberates through the cramped closet; the handle straining under the pressure, threatening to give out at any moment.

"seems like it ain’t gonna hold for long,” his drawl thick with that familiar, unbothered tone. his eyes flick to the door, then back to you, his stance relaxed despite the impending danger. “ya better start thinkin’ quick, 'cause i ain't exactly got a plan here."

the words barely register before your mind starts to race as panic crawls up your spine. your thoughts begin to spiral —there’s no escape route, no backups, and little to no time left. you’re running through options, half of them nonsensical, as the door rattles louder with each passing second.

“heh, adorable.” his infuriating grin is more felt than seen, a slight tilt of his head as he takes in your flustered state. “wreckin’ yer pretty head over this an’ sacrificin’ yerself f’me?”

your heart stutters in your chest, a mix of frustration and embarrassment flooding your system as you snap a glare up at him, your words coming out sharp and defensive, "you wish!"

boothill chuckles, his irksome grin still in place. “d'worry, i was just kiddin’. i have a plan.”

“what is it?” you ask, your voice betraying the flicker of nervousness you feel.

instead of answering, he takes off his wide-brimmed hat and places it on your head, tilting it slightly so the brim is low enough to cover the side of your face, shadowing your features.

you shift under his touch, an odd shiver running through you. “stay still, will ya?” his voice is surprisingly soft as he adjusts the hat, his movements so gentle it catches you off guard. though you still can’t help but be curious. 

you blink up at him, still trying to piece things together. “what... what’s this supposed to do?” 

his eyes meet yours again, “just trust me, darlin’.”

before you can ask any further, his hand cups your jaw, tilting your head upward. thumb brushing over your lips as he leans in, and for one heart-stopping moment, you find yourself holding your breath, your pulse quickening in anticipation.

but the contact doesn’t land —not entirely. instead, his thumb slips between your lips, a barrier that keeps the distance just shy of crossing the line. your breath hitches in your throat, the aching proximity making everything feel too intense, as his presence fills every inch of the space around you.

heat prickles across your face, a flush creeping up your neck as you feel the tension in the air thicken. his mouth hovers, almost brushing against yours; instead, brushing against a small barrier —the press of his thumb between your lips, just enough to keep you both from closing the gap. 

before you can fully process what's happening, the closet door swings open with a sharp metallic clang, flooding the cramped space with light.

“whoa,” one of the ipc agents blurts, freezing mid-step as their eyes flicker between two figures; whose faces are far too close, and posture far too intimate for any doubt to remain.

“oh,” another grunt stammered, a hint of awkwardness in their modulated tone. “apologies. we, uh… didn’t mean to intrude —carry on!”

the words tumble out in a rush, and they hastily pull the door shut, leaving you both in the dim, suffocating silence once again.

boothill doesn’t immediately pull away. his lips curl into a smug grin as he eyes you with a hint of amusement. “that wide-eyed stare of yer just now? kinda pathetic, ya know,” his voice dripping with a taunting, teasing tone. 

you can almost feel the heat of his smirk against your skin; his next words come softer, “but, i reckon it’s also kinda cute, i’ll give ya that.”  

flustered and irritated all at once, you reach up, grabbing his ear and tugging it, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment flooding through you. “cut it out, you idiot.” your face burns with frustration and a whole lot of confusion about why his teasing is driving you crazy.

thank aeons the closet is dim, because you have no idea what more he’ll tease you about if he sees the heat flooding your cheeks, or worse, if he knows it’s his words —or rather, his actions —that’s causing it. 

you hear shouts from outside, the voices muffled but unmistakable. “nothing here, move on! we’ll scout the next area!” one of them calls out, the sound gradually fading as they move further away.

you let out a soft exhale, your posture relaxing as you shift slightly. “looks like we’re clear."

“we are, so how 'bout ya let go of my ear now, sugarplum?” 

rolling your eyes, you do your best to ignore the way your pulse is still quickening. “fine, let’s just get out of here before they come back.” 

curse that damnable, cocky grin that makes your heart race in ways you wish it didn’t.

boothill seems to know exactly what you're thinking as he leans in, patting his hat down onto your head. "whaddya blushin’ for? can't handle a lil’ close quarters?" he hums.

"shut up, boothill," you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but even you can tell it’s less convincing than you'd like.

“alright, alright, ain't no time to be standin' round lookin' pretty.” he drawls, backing away slightly, but his eyes never leave yours. “let's get movin', before them ipc shirtbags change their minds and come back lookin’ for us.”

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

[tsukii0002]

Imagine the contrast of the coexistence between Mc and Solomon, a human who did not know that magic was real until relatively recently and another human who has lived for centuries and who uses magic as if it were breathing.

Imagine that little things at home where Solomon is always willing to use magic to solve it, while Mc always beats him to it in the most common and least magical way possible.

But above all imagine, Solomon's frustration, how can his magic be rendered useless in such a way? And if he has no magic, what can he bring to that home?

Solomon: Remember that blanket I told you had a hole in it, I think it's time to mend it *opening one of his books*

Mc: I've already mended it, with a few stitches it's as good as new.

Solomon: Oh…

Solomon: Mc, what was the table that was broken?

Mc: Oh, don't worry, I fixed it.

Solomon: Really? What spell did you use?

Mc: Ha, ha, Solomon, you don't need magic to wedge a table.

Solomon: Mc!! With this spell we will solve our rat problem!

Mc: *smiling* I've already taken care of that, no for nothing Barbatos is so happy with me.

Solomon: That's how you earn your premium tea leaves?

Solomon: Please tell me you didn't fix the shelf that was sagging *with a book under his arm*

Mc: *eating a muffin* Oops.

Solomon: Mc, I told you I'd fix it *pointing at the. with the book*

Mc: Solomon, it was tightening two screws, it's going to take you longer to look up such a mundane spell than to fix it manually.

.

Solomon: Mc… you're a sorceress, you should use magic more!

Mc: *funny* And you should use magic less!!! You're still a human, old man. By the way, remember those yellow spots on the tablecloth that bothered you so much?

Solomon: Yeah?

Mc: Well, I've already made them disappear and without magic.

Solomon: How????

Solomon is sitting, somewhat annoyed, on one of the balconies

Mc: Hey…

Solomon: …

Mc: Are you upset?

Solomon: … No.

Mc: *sighing as they stands next to him* Let's talk, tell me, why does it bother you so much that I solve things without magic?

Solomon: I'm not upset, we don't need to talk at all.

Mc: You know that communication is part of living together right? We are two people with different ways of living, if we don't talk how are we going to have a good cohabitation?

Solomon: … With the brothers you never had that problem.

Mc: Sure I have, maybe not with these things because Lucifer encourages certain stuff to be done manually, but we had to set a lot of guidelines when I started living with them.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: *sighing* I'm not upset… it's just that I'm used to doing everything with magic, even the smallest things, it's easier, faster.

Mc: Well, sometimes yes, but sometimes it's easier to do it without magic, and in my case I'm used to not use magic.

Solomon: *looking at them* I know, but there are things I can't do without magic.

Mc: But that's what I'm for, isn't it?

Solomon: *doubting* Then' what do I bring to our cohabitation?

Mc: *realizing*

Solomon: You cook, you do a lot of chores because you are faster, and you take care of a lot of things that allow you to have a routine… I feel that instead of living together, I am a guest...

Mc: Solomon...

Solomon: And if I can't even use my magic, Am I useless? without my magic I…

The two are silent for a moment

Mc: I'm sorry, I've minimized how you feel… and I've done things my way without taking you into account.

Solomon: Ha, ha, don't worry, *now kind of sad* It's not that big of a deal.

Mc: No, I told you, communication is part of living together and you should tell me what bothers you.

Solomon: *looking at them*

Mc: We can try to find a middle ground.

Solomon: How?

Mc: *thoughtful* Well, the day to day things we can do manually and the things that are very difficult or tedious we can use magic?

Solomon: *considering it seriously'* You could also teach me how to do tasks without magic, like how to wedge a table… and I could teach you spells that I usually use, like the one that sweeps the house by itself.

Mc: *smiling* We can also make a schedule so we don't step on each other's to-dos.

Solomon: *smiling too* And create a chat room exclusively for house stuff where we can let each other know if we're going to do something.

Mc: That sounds like a great idea Solomon.

Solomon: *more lively* And I'd also like to do certain chores together, like laundry or cooking.

Mc: … *feeling bad at Solomon's happy face* Yes… we can do that too.

.

.

This turned out to be longer than I thought, and what started as something funny has turned into a drama😅. I'm not going to lie to you, I love domestic dramas, day to day problems… so this post has turned into that because Solomon is used to live in a very different way than Mc, and living together for the first time is always complicated and habits are hard to change, and co-living is not always so great. Give me domestic situations between Mc and the rest of the cast please!!!! 🥺🥺

Anyway, if you've made it this far, thank you very much for reading🩷

.

.

[1800titz]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ (ꜱᴏꜰᴛ)

ROLL OVER | boyfriend!Harry (couples costumes gone wild)

The dalmatian/fire fighter duo runs a little deeper in the bedroom after the party.

★₁₈₊

ROLL OVER as the final installment to the KINKTOBER projects. Based on this ask.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: couple's costume gone wild. pet play (soft). soft dom. praise. leashing. collars. use of "puppy" as a pet name (pun unintended). oral (f to m). dumbification. dom/sub undertones.

WC: 1.7K

“Yeah,” Harry breathes and shifts his hips with a subtle flex that nudges a little more of him past your lips, cradling you close by the shape of your jaw and petting his palm across your heated cheek. 

You swallow, nostrils flaring, and you let the congealed dust— of this particular disposition— across your lashes lure you under a little harder. Let it crush you under the soporific wave of its gravity. 

But you don’t miss the way he swallows, tugs a little harder on the polypropylene end of the dog leash wrapped taut around the knobs of his naked knuckles, and purrs, “Such a good girl, puppy.”

You blink up at him. At the unstilted paradigm of your insatiable hunger (eating, eating, still so hungry for him); bare stomach flexing, shoulders swelling, jawbone tucked and face ducked to watch you swallow around him. Watch and feel you work your little tongue in crescent shapes against the underside of his cockhead. 

You’re drooling. Slobbering, like a needy, little puppy, and your spit dribbles across between the wedges of your knuckles, where you cup him around the base and squeeze every time he throbs. 

It’s good. It’s really, really good.

He sprawls back against the chair but keeps his chin tipped. Staring down at you— the way your lips suction around him and the way your eyes pool under your fluttery lashes with a dew. Inkpools unwavering. Unrelenting. 

His shirt is discarded, so all his ink is on show. The way it breathes alive under the tension of his musculature, his rippling abdomen when you dip the tip of your tongue into the slit on his head; moving, dancing over his skin. 

It feels dirty. Borderline gaudily pornographic; you, on your knees in that careful nook between his split thighs, with his suspenders dangling across his lap. The big, utility boots on his feet, either side of your haunches. The pried zipper on a set of work trousers, slouching low on his hips, multi-faceted into a costume. 

He’s heavy on your tongue. Takes up too much room in your mouth. Leaking and throbbing when you duck your head to take him just a little deeper, a little more.

“Christ,” Harry murmurs. It sounds a little dark. Hardly over a whisper— you make a wet, ugly sound around him and blink back up. 

From your angle, there’s this pastiche of sovereignty to him. Like blue-collar regalia; half-shed firefighter’s rig, shape of his face chiseled in self-possessed stolidity—

Save for his eyes, the little cinch in his jawbone. The glint in the charcoal vats, the sharp carve your lips make, the way it wobbles when his teeth grind together a little harder. Your tongue seeps out over your lower lip when you take a deep breath through your nose, open wide, and take him nearly to the root. 

The sound that crawls out of Harry is so battered that all you can do is claw into the fabric on the apex of his thighs and let your eyes screw. 

His cockhead bludgeons at the gummy lining on the back of your throat, and you’re sure the phlegm is collapsing in little broken pieces like a mirror shattering under the weight of a hammer. Spuming out over his face in creases and rapture. But you can’t look. 

All you can do is try to swallow around him when the hand that was on the side of your face glues to the back of your crown, his fingers tangling into your hair. His knuckles bleach a little whiter with the strain of the leash, the way he holds you in place. 

(When his palm moves, it smudges one of the little tar-black spots you painted on with a brush, across your temple.)

You can hear that he’s groaning, pressing himself into you and folding praise in with the shape of his fingers scratching at the back of your skull. Things like, “Yeah— fuck— just like that, sweet girl,” in rich husks that simmer across your porous bones and trickle when your shoulders shake. When your toes curl under you. But he holds the leash a little tighter for the angle, and the makeshift collar around your throat gets a little more taut—

Really, it’s all his fault. 

Taunting, Can’t be my proper puppy without— the lead he delicately clipped onto the cheap, old hot topic choker you dug out of the closet to use as a collar. The way that he kept his knuckles wrapped over the handle and his knuckles in his pocket at the party. Toting you around like a pet, keeping you rooted to his side when he settled. Tucked to the swell of his massive shoulder. 

The way he told you to stay like a dog when he went off to refill your drinks, the way he patted your head upon return to find your soles glued to the same spot. Scratching behind your ear derisively, fingertips riling a shudder across your shoulders. 

Such a good girl, you are, saturated in artificial, satirical delight. Corners of his mouth curling, the jeer dripping off the corners of his eyes. 

(Here’s your treat.)

It started as a joke. Mocking for the sake of watching the heat froth under your skin, across your cheekbones, the ruckled bridge of your nose. Faux praises and the condescending gravity of the lead across the base of your neck. The subtle tug into an isolated pigeonhole of a docility that soaked across the crown of your head. 

The mushroomed ridges of his tip bludgeon a splutter out from between your sopping lips, and more saliva oozes out and trickles across your tacky, wet fingers. 

You need to hear it again, need to hear him say it, that itch festering in the noxious tangle of your arousal when you rise on your haunches a touch to duck your chin and press your nose to the wiry smattering of hair bedding around the root of his cock—

“Fuck,” Harry drawls. Guttural, heated—

Varicolored phosphenes fleck behind your lids like constellations in the yawn of a mesmeric, caliginous sky. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he grunts, hums, hips tensing and canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like it’s an undiluted reflex to an itch, feeding his cock deeper— “Gonna cum down this pretty, little throat f’you keep sucking my cock like that.”

You rest both palms on his thighs. Twist your fingers into the fabric until it’s soggy with spit. Gag around the swell of him until he wrenches you back with his fingers under the collar, at your nape, and leaves you sputtering for air with your neck craned. When you blink your lashes apart, your eyes are wet. Bleary. Burning like the back of your tongue, the soft lining at the back of your mouth, where the only place left to cram further is down into your esophagus. 

He looks like a hedonistic cover page for a pornographic issue. 

The coarse strip of dark hair from his navel pools in the bed of curls nesting the hilt of his cock, and his thighs are split in this kingly way that makes you dizzy. It’s vertiginous, staring up at him from your knees. Meaty shoulders, one burnt umber curl hanging to eclipse an eyebrow, and his cock is so spit-slick. Wet, and shimmery, and stupidly thick, sealed in his fist. Throbbing. Your spit puddles off onto his heavy sack, the sodden fabric wrenched apart by the zipper, and you watch a little, pearlescent bead drool off the tip when he squeezes and twists his palm up. 

“Want it in your mouth?” Harry muses. It’s a subconscious maneuver; canting forward on the hinges of your joints with your swollen lips parted as he drags the pad of his thumb across the blurting pre-cum and smears it over his frenulum. “Want it bad, don’t you?”

The way he pulls on the end of the lead isn’t sharp. It’s subtle, but it corners you into nestling your mouth against his cock. Against the swollen shaft, cockhead pulsing and leaking out over the sloping bridge of your nose. 

“Beg,” he tells you. It’s soft. The wisp of a breath; a sigh when you smush your cherry mouth to the little vein that rides up the underside and turns baby blue beneath the crown. 

But it’s chock-full of the command given to an animal— beg, and I’ll give you a treat. It makes you sizzle down to your marrow. His lips curl loosely into a lazy grin. So debauched, around the shape of his cock, coated in your own saliva, pressed to your face. 

“Go on,” he smiles, “Let me hear you whine for it. Show me what a needy, little puppy you are.”

The words sink into your underbelly and leave your hands cresting for surface-purchase under the spindrift. They slip to his knees, and tangle into the fabric there as your lashes flutter. 

“Please,” you breathe, mouthing the word along the shape of his cock. Your lashes are still fluttering. Batting. You scootch forward a little, scratching into the firm muscle under the nomex, and let him smear his shaft across the tip of your nose, tarnishing the borders of the snout you painted on.

He hums. His thumb catches on the corner of your mouth, just as you start to paste an open-mouthed, suckling kiss onto the underside of the root. Your tongue smudges out against his sack. 

He’s unconvinced— you watch it in the way his brows notch, hear it in the rumble that stems from his chest when he grips his cock by the hilt and taps it against you. “Come on, baby. I know you can do a little better than that. Really work for it, hm?”

“Please,” you say, rocking your hips. “Want it bad. Wanna keep sucking you. Please, please.”

A hand tucks into your hair. The fingertips there scratch into the spot behind the shell of your ear softly, and the sensation draws a shudder over your shoulders. You feel on fire. Molten, under the weight of his gaze, the unresistant pressure on the lead, the patronization that trickles off his tone.

“Go on, then, puppy,” Harry murmurs, finally, and loosens the white-knuckled, taut grip on the leash enough for you to clamber back, “Take me back into your mouth.”

kinktober masterlist here. | general masterlist here. | patreon here.

TAGLIST: @aprlmuse @babegoals @cinnamonone @lolalovespeaches @flubblubbb

@ivegotthecinema @bxtchboy69 @iloveharrystyles04 @littlenatilda @witch-rry

@watermelonsugarslut @hs1thea @boystepper @carolinaskiwii @kathleengrg

@madstyles3204 @fruity-harry

[yourlocalangeldoll]

*ੈ Thinking about Nam Gyu tryna buy drugs after he went broke and into debt after the crypto scam

cw: 18+!, mdni, begrudgingly sub!Nam Gyu(he accepts it eventually), cockstepping, sadistic reader, lowk masochist Nam Gyu, degradation, slut, cunt, bitch and whore name calling, drug mentions, slapping(m), possibly ooc

a/n: got this while reading this by @hauntedfawnn, if you’re a rafe fan go read it, it is SO hot 😮‍💨 i also love making lowk sexist men getting dommed by woman 💋 also dunno if this would count as a blurb or short fic but i’m putting it in the short fic category 💞

“Shit..” Nam Gyu breathed out, breath falling up and down while he leaned back. Hands planted in the ground while he leaned back, sitting on his legs.

You smirked, a sly chuckle escaping your lips as you sat comfortably on your seat. Your feet decorated in cute, pink wedge like heels that matched your strapless mini dress.

You leaned forward, planting your palms on the couch, smirk widening as you pressed your foot harder down against the bulge of the usually dominant and ‘confident’ black haired man. A sadistic sort of glee ran through your body as you watched his mouth open in a silent gasp just to quickly shut it and screw his eyes shut. A hint of tears slowly and barely noticeably escaping the corners of his eyes.

His body lurched forward when your foot showed no sign of letting up, instead increasing in the pressure it had on top of his clothed cock. A soft and choked whine escaping his lips as he felt a masochistic type of pleasure shoot through him. His body jolting to your foot as he let out a choked “fuck..”

And god, he sounded so utterly pathetic. You moved your arms to rest on your thighs, looking down at Nam Gyu with a mocking pout as you tilted your head. “Does it hurt?” You ask rhetorically. “Hm?”

Nam Gyu’s head finally rises up to look at you, an attempt sneer on his face as he spat his words at you. “Shut up slut.”

And boy did he regret them after you practically fully stepped on his cock. A whine tearing from his throat as his other hand to tightly grip your calf. A set of tears finally spilling out of his eyes as he bit his lip and looked back down.

“I’m the slut but you’re letting me step on your cock because you can’t bear to be away from drugs.” You taunt, your tone no longer bothering to hold any faux sympathy. It instead now held a sadistic and amused glint mixed with soft irritation. “You’re so pathetic, are you not embarrassed to be this far gone to an addiction?” You mock, narrowing your eyes and tilting your head in a taunting manner. “And that’s coming from a dealer.”

You glance down at him, taking in his flushed and already almost disheveled appearance. After taking a few minutes to run your eyes over his appearance your sadistic smirk returned to your face. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

The words left your mouth simply, along your foot on his cock which earned a sound that was mixed with almost a sigh of relief but whine of complaint. It was faint but you could still hear it.

Biting your lip you placed your foot down onto the floor again, speaking again in that simple, matter of fact and slightly demanding tone. “Grind against my shoe. If you wanna feel pleasured you gotta work for it.” You said. Battling to hide the smirk as you waited to see his reaction.

Nam Gyu’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes narrowing. If looks could kill.. you’d only be a bit wounded, but it’s still something. “Bitch do i look like some fucking dog for you to boss around?” He spat, his words venomous despite the look of want in his eyes.

You leaned forward, rested your chin in your palm and smirked. “you do.”

“You bitch-“ He started, eyes widening slightly in offence before he remembered what was at stake here- good fucking drugs.

“Just gimme my shit i let you do what you wanted.” He said, his tone firm but words pathetic. He truly didn’t understand his place did he? you’ll have fun changing that.

“Grind. against. my shoe.” You say simply, your tone holding no room for debate. “And you’ll get your free fucking drugs.”

“You cunt, you said-“ But his words didn’t get to leave his mouth. Instead the sound of a slap resounded in his room. Along with a pain running through the skin of his cheek.

Nam Gyu blinked, now looking off to the side where the force of your slapped repositioned his head. It took him a couple seconds and your sadistic chuckle for him to snap out of it. Eyes narrowing as he slowly turned his head back to face you.

“I’m giving you shit i pay for because your ass was dumb enough to put all your money into crypto because some youtuber said so.” You remind, tone harsh as you grabbed his jaw in your hands tightly. Foot coming up to gently nudge his cock- which sent bolts of electricity shooting through his body. Hips betraying his pride and bucking into your shoe. “So do what i said or get the fuck out of here without the drugs.”

Nam Gyu, the pathetic, drug addicted loser he is. Took a second to process your words before looking away and scooting closer to you. His annoying attractive hands coming up to rest on your knee as his hips slowly and unsurely started to rub against your shoe.

You grinned victoriously, crossing your arms and leaning back into the couch back. Your foot nudging whenever you felt the tip of his cock on your shoe.

And just as it thought it couldn’t get better- you started applying more pressure into your nudges against his cock which had him pathetically resting his forehead against your knee, pathetic whine escaping his lips and his movements gradually becoming more desperate. Was he already close.

A hand of yours came up to find way to his hair, fingers entangling with the strands of his hair to rub unmatchingly soft at his head, which earned a soft moan from him. Grin spreading across your face as you spoke. “Aw, close already?”

He didn’t respond, but you knew you were right nevertheless as you felt his movements get more sporadic and desperate.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you reached back over for your blunt which was already slowly burning away, its smell filling the room mixed with your sweet perfume. You brought it to your smirk tugged lips, your mind reeling and pussy soaking as you watched your new boy toy and imagined all the things you could do to him.

⟡ ݁₊ . written by yourlocalangeldoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.