#and I just wanted the first volume but it's never fucking in stock

[diseaseriddencube]

went to the comic book shop to see if they had any TYE in stock and I saw the most dreaded thing possible......

😳

[finalfrontierpublishing]

So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.

I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.

I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.

Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.

Some stats, if you will.

96215 words || 380 pages

Title font: Ghaomiec

I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.

Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.

The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.

Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.

Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.

I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.

Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.

[sweettoothvn]

Even David can be a narcissist bitch he's still a babygirl 🤍 (is there a NSFW or SFW alphabet Abt David)

NSFW BELOW!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He probably stares at you for a while, looking over your body and face. If he speaks it’s in a whisper, worried that he’ll ruin the moment you shared. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or you- he just wants the moment to last forever. If you want to cuddle he doesn’t deny you, breathing in your presence and wanting to absorb you. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a chest & arms kinda guy

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s really curious about how his cum would look on you but he doesn’t know how to voice that- he probably just does it and sees how you react

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He secretly enjoys being knocked off his pedestal and dominated, essentially brat taming

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a virgin, never done anything. He’s committed himself to his studies most of his life.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

“Gift Wrapped”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not goofy about it. During his first time he’s very sensual about it and takes his time. The more you do it with him though, the more dominant he becomes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean-shaven all around

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends on what you’re doing. In the first few times he will be very intimate until you guys start exploring kinks.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely jerks off and if he does it’s to relieve stress

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Accidental stimulation, Authoritarians, Altocalciphilia, Amaurophilia, Anal, Begging, Blindfolds, Bondage, Brat Taming, Chastity, Choking, Clothed sex, Collaring, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Discipline, Edge play, (Slight) Exhibitionism, Face fucking, Flogging, Furries, Gags, Hypnotism, Intoxication, Jerk off instructions, Narratophilia, Orgasm denial, Penis humiliation, pet play, Rimming, Sadism, Sensation play/deprivation, Spanking, Stockings, Strap-On, Teasing, Wax play, Zelophilia

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom preferably

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Physical touch absolutely breaks him. Offering stress relief is a good one too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

General stuff (unsanitary kinks, bestiality, minors, etc), Blood, Gore

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He would prefer receiving but he doesn’t mind giving. He has NO skill.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes it fast and rough

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He would love quickies and probably engage in them too often

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not really

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Considering his lack of experience he probably doesn’t last that long at first.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own any toys

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He 100% teases whenever he gets the chance, bottoming or topping.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He tries to keep his sounds to himself as he gets embarrassed by them but the longer you go the less he gives a shit and gets loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes phone sex a lot, voices turn him on way too much.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Clean shaven

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Maybe a bit above average

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dude is OUT like a LIGHT

[sex-storytime]

Stepping In

Today was the day. After all I had witnessed I had finally decided I was sick of it. Sick of the shouting, the denial, the ignorance and the late night arguments, the early morning ones too.

It had been six months since I came into your apartment as a roommate, however I hadn't expected the storm that the household was in, and quite frankly I didn't understand it. To start, the 'apartment' that you two had graciously offered me was more or less the size of a house, so I found it difficult to believe there were any problems in your life. However once I had listened in on a few of your quarrels I finally understood the situation. Your girlfriend was useless in bed.

This piece of information did not come as a surprise to me though. I had known Carrie all my life and it definitely fit her personality. She would certainly keep her body in shape for peak performance and social media attention but when it came to the nightly activities she had neither performance or attention for any of it.

Carrie had grown accustomed to having high expectations of her partners. So much so that they eventually all realised she didn't meet theirs, and she was none the wiser. All of her men were just meant to provide and be both cameraman and model as she went about flaunting and seducing her fans on the internet, explaining to them that they should be jealous of the attention she got, it was her after all.

So when I figured out the situation I definitely giggled, more importantly, I was impressed. You had managed to stick with her for the better part of three years, longer than any other had, and despite her constant rejections of your bedroom ideas, you stayed loyal. Not only had you done that but you found a way to release your stress, didn't you?

At first I thought you were luring me, however I soon realised you had just been complacent as you left the door open, stroking and edging yourself to a strong and glorious climax. I had seen that day, and it had now become my new hobby to peek in on your sessions once in a while, but who could blame me? your girlfriend had high expectations. If she was Eve, you were Adam, if she was a model, you were a pornstar, it was almost uncanny how you weren't as conceited or selfish as she was.

All this had led to the current situation. Last night you had your biggest argument yet, not because of the volume, but because of the topic of conversation, you. Carrie had gone on the offensive as always, berating you that you were lucky and all the usual crap, but this time she attacked your interests.

Now, for the record, you weren't the kinkiest man ever, but you liked what you liked and you were firm in that, which is admirable. But to her, who barely qualified as vanilla, you were a perverted animal. So as I listened to her degrade you about wanting oral and maybe a facial here and there, my ears perked up once she mentioned your nylon fetish.

In my experience, I had a conflicted relationship with men and their want for lingerie. I personally loved dressing up to fuck, but whenever it came time, they would just look me over hungrily before undressing me. This confused me as there was no difference to regular sex at this point, if I had put on lingerie, then fuck me in it! The only time I had been was when my partner of the night hadn't removed my thigh-high stockings because "he couldn't wait", talk about lame.

My already building interest increased as she continued scolding you about your 'thing for feet', as she called it. Which as common as it apparently is, I had not had experience in, I had definitely done the research to quench my eagerness, however the opportunity never arose. So as my consciousness faded and Carrie's voice receded into the recesses of the night, I dreamt of my plan to reward you, if she didn't want you, it was my turn.

I had woken up earlier than usual, today was THE day after all. I had finished my workout and had my shower, returning to my room I slipped my towel off and looked at myself in the mirror. Although I wasn't slim I liked to keep myself in shape, in comparison to Carrie's lithe hourglass figure and sizeable breasts I preferred how pear shaped I was, my wide hips giving room for my tight ass to shine on any social occasion followed by my smaller c cup breasts, that remained perky and alluring even if they weren't the biggest in the room.

I slipped into my planned sheer black lace cropped cami, a favourite of mine as it clung to my skin, promoting my assets without squeezing them. I then slid my matching black lace panties up my legs before opening the mirrored closet and retrieving my favourite dildo. I proceeded to climb onto my bed before kneeling to face the mirror, I still had time to kill before Carrie left and I wasn't going to waste it. As I tied my cherry coloured hair back and looked myself in the mirror, I winked, "damn I look hot" I whispered to myself as I lowered myself onto my pleasure rod.

Half an hour had past before there was any signs or sounds of movement in the house, and in this time I had broken into a light sweat between the gasps and moans of me impaling myself, however I didn't stop. I maintained eye contact with myself as I worked my hips against my faux rod, my pretty French tipped nails slowly circling away at my clit as I moaned and soaked my bed sheets, my dripping wet pussy easily keeping up with my pleasure, as it had done on many occasions, my limit was far in sight.

The minutes flew by as I continued my warm up, my built up excitement finally easing once my door opened and Carrie peered in, I took my hand away from my pubic area, but my hips remained in constant motion. "Oh my… " Carrie said while averting her gaze. "What's with the unexpected visit?" I asked, nonchalantly. She paused, taking a moment to herself before forcing out,

"I might need you to take care of dinner as I'll be at an event tonight"

"Oh is that right? does your boyfriend know?"

"…."

"Hmm?"

"We had an argument so I haven't told him" she muttered, she always hated sharing details about her personal life.

"I'll let him know then" I smiled back, watching her nod before turning and sauntering off as the door closed. Finally.

I slid myself off the slippery dildo, admiring the wetness I had left on my thighs as I moved to kneel in front of the mirrored closet. Time passed as I curled my luscious cherry hair to sit around my collarbones, my hands moving to apply my make-up, enough to seduce, but not enough to cake my face. After reaching satisfaction I applied my lipstick, a brighter cherry red that both matched and complimented my hair. I stood up, ready, smiling as I saw Carrie's car disappear down the road, you would be ready too, I thought as I sat on the edge of my bed, reaching into my drawer I pulled out my black stockings. I took time pulling them on, feeling the nylon tops as the silk brushed against my legs, I was sure you'd be pleased. I stood and slipped myself into my open toed heels, finishing my outfit with the accentuated dark red against the black. I smiled as I walked to view myself in the mirror, extremely happy and eager with what I was about to do.

I opened the door to your bedroom, the large sprawling space always amazed me and, as if scheduled, there you were. The bed was next to the door, but you weren't there, you were past that on the couch facing away from the door, sitting, waiting as you chose which video to play on the screen opposite you. I silently crept in, closing the door without a sound as you sat there frustrated. I smiled as I made my way behind you as you remained oblivious, stroking yourself as you browsed through the endless amount of pornography you had on hand, sadly you wouldn't need it today.

Your eyes met mine as I walked around the couch, it was a moment later that they widened. "Woah, what the fu--" you managed before my raised foot gently pressed against your lips. "No need for that, honey" I smiled as your eyes fell to my stocking covered foot at your lips "Do you like it?" I asked, as I dragged the tip of my toes down your chest, noticing your cock throb and engorge at the sight "but we can't… " you begin before trailing off, your gaze raking across my body as you weigh your options. I see your loyalty try to quell your desire as I trace my heel along your cock and back to the floor, "how about… " I start, kneeling between your opening legs "I give you… " I continue, my hand wrapping around your shaft "a trial before you decide?" I finish, my warm tongue stretching out to meet the base of your pulsing member as I slide it up to your cockhead, my soft red lips encasing your tip as my hand strokes from the base of your shaft to my lips and back again.

You let out a moan, I feel a sense of satisfaction as heat floods my waiting hole and I match your moan, my tongue running across the top of your cock as I slide my lips down your shaft to meet my hand halfway, the back of my throat pressing against your sensitive tip as you find your fingers locked in my hair. I continue pushing your cock to meet the back of my mouth, your impressive length thickening as you begin thrusting against me, your enthusiasm rising as you ride the entrance of my mouth. I feel your balls tighten against my palm as I release my grip, sliding my wet red lips from your shaft. "Your trial run has ended baby" I muse as I watch you in frustration, giggling as I stand and retrace my steps around the couch, kicking off my heels as I swing my hips, heading towards the large bed. "If you've made your decision, I'll be over here" I tease, I know your eyes are on me before I even turn to sit on the edge of the bed.

It doesn't take you long to follow, your need to unload leading you to me, but as you move to climb on top of me your chest is met by my silk-wrapped foot, "not so fast" I whisper as my other foot rises up your thigh, my toes pressing against the underside of your smooth shaven balls as your cock twitches across my foot. You moan in disbelief of the situation, cut short however by my stocking-clad foot finding its way back to your lips as the other caresses you below. I speak one word.

"Open."

…and you do, my toes reaching your tongue before you take over, grabbing my ankle and enveloping my foot with your mouth. I let out a gasp, this had started with your pleasure, however I had found something new for my own. as you suck and lick at my foot I use the other, sliding it along your shaft, pressing it against your rippling stomach as I rub along its length, up and down, over and over while you go drunk on your fetish. I let you relish in it, taking time with both before I find my soles at the base of your now rock-hard pole. "It's a cock like this that really turns me into a slut" I admit as my eyes meet yours and I bite my lip, my silk soles trapping your girth between them as I stroke your length. You groan and strain, holding yourself back as you've trained yourself to do before, good. I take pleasure in edging you further, my feet driving you crazy as you moan while I give you the ultimate footjob.

Before long you shudder and I freeze, I know you're close but I have other plans for you. You reach for my ankles to finish the job yourself but they're already gone, my hand cupping your member as I stretch my tongue to lick away your dripping pre-cum. You groan louder, pushing me down onto the mattress taking off my lace panties and cami, this is what I was waiting for.

"Fuck me" I whisper, but you're far ahead of me, raising my legs to your shoulders as you plunge your entire throbbing cock inside my warm, wet hole. The initial thrusts setting me off as I moan and shout "oh yeah, fuck me baby, fuck me!" to which you oblige, already on edge as you plow my hole, stretching it with your massive cock. I scream as you push my ankles back above my head, folding me, I move my arms to hold them in place as your full length and girth open me up. Your fingers wrap in my luscious cherry curls as you ram me, our hips meeting as you pound my walls. "DONT STOP!" I yell as my eyes roll back, the ecstasy worth all the build up as my pussy floods for your enormous manhood. You place your fingers on my lips and I stick my tongue out to meet them, sucking on them as my body is driven in wave after wave of pleasure, my legs shaking and spasming as you continue filling me up to the point that I have to push off you.

I pant, letting my legs down as my body relaxes "I'd have done this sooner if I knew you could do that" I let out between gasped breaths to your satisfaction. I slowly get up, draping my arm around your neck as my lips meet your chest briefly, my other hand stroking your cock, throbbing and glistening in my own juices. I stand on my toes, my breath meeting your ear "it's time for your reward" I whisper, stroking you "and I want to make sure you have a front row seat" I finish, my tongue flicking your earlobe before I turn, leading you by your cock to the other side of the bed, the door side on to us. I kneel in front of you, your own mirrored closet to my back as I begin stroking you, you can see everything from my lips to my stockings and feet with the mirror as I position myself for you.

You're brought back to attention when my tongue finds its way to your balls, I take them into my mouth and look up at you, stroking your cock as you feel me taste you playfully. Before long I've worked my lips to your pulsating dickhead, keeping eye contact I envelop you with my tongue, opening wide as I take you inside my warm hole, your moans welcoming my tongue against the underside of your cock as you thrust, hitting the back of my as I gag. I pause, sliding off of you "I want you to fuck my throat like I'm your slut, please fuck my throat baby " I beg as I open my mouth and your eyes shine with excitement, grabbing my hair as you thrust, however this time your whole length is met with the entirety of my bottomless hole, the muscles in my throat tightening around your cock in unbearable pleasure as you slide out.

After taking a moment to recover from the sudden pleasure you're back in position. Your rod pointing directly at my open mouth as saliva drips down my tongue and chin, making my perky tits shine. You let out a grunt as you grip my hair, pulling my throat onto your cock as you begin to facefuck me, my saliva and your precum pouring out of my mouth as I slut my throat out to you. I moan against your throbbing pole as you stretch my throat, my fingers working away at my clit as I find myself between the throes of my own pleasure and yours, it doesn't take long for your climax to rise as you fuck my tight hole and take what you deserve for the first time "I'm going to cum" you pant out as my mascara runs down my cheeks, my eyes locked on yours as my lips go from the base of your thick cock to the tip, thrust after thrust as your balls tighten.

Just as the door swings open. It's Carrie.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" she yells, as I pull your cock from my throat, stroking it with both hands as I arch my back, looking you in the eyes with my face on display "cum on my pretty face baby, cum all over my slutty fucking face!" I moan as your body seizes up. Carrie's screams of protest are drowned out in your pleasure as you unload your large throbbing member, rope after rope of hot, sticky cum landing across my lips and forehead. "Paint my whole fucking face baby" is all you hear as my hands coax load after load onto my cheeks and tongue as I open my mouth. I stick my tongue out, my face covered in your molten cum, my eyes never leaving yours as I swallow the rest out of your still throbbing cock, your moans subsiding as I caress you with my tongue, stroking you gently as you look at your masterpiece.

I turn my attention to Carrie, who is now silent in all her cuckold glory. "What?" I ask, annoyed.

"WHAT!? WHAAAATTT!? YOU FUCKED MY BOYFRIEND!"

"I was feeding him" I smirk " or maybe he was feeding me" my tongue moving to tease the tip of your cock.

"STOP! NO! HOW COULD YOU?!"

"He needed a slut and you weren't being one for him"

"YOU'RE MY SISTER!?!"

"Yeah he really seemed to like that part" I smile up at you, your cum dripping down my face as I scoop it onto my finger, licking and sucking it clean, bit by bit as Carrie storms off and you look down on me hungrily, I smile.

"I can't wait until it's my turn again."

[finethingswellworn]

This is a random rant, but I just had to get it out somewhere

So I have always loved collecting physical media. I used to have a huge collection of tapes, CDs, records, movies, box sets of TV shows.

I like holding things in my hands, knowing that they are mine, being able to put them in my bag and take them wherever I happen to be. Especially because I used to move around a lot.

And this extends to books. Ever since I was old enough, I’ve been collecting them. Except… I read braille…

So one book might be split into 3, 4 sometimes more volumes.

Needless to say, my collection takes up a lot of room, and I’ve invested a great deal of time, energy, and money into it.

And one thing among many, many things that frustrates me about being a Braille book collector aside from how fucking niche it is is that a great many of the ones I really, especially want are simply not available and there’s absolutely no way to make them available myself. 

So it’s left me with a bunch of second and third books in series that I have no way of knowing if I will ever get the first books to. Or last books that I will never get to read in braille format. Unfinished collections.

And, of course, I could, and absolutely do, have these things in audio format, but the little book hoarder in me hates that. The completionist, the perfectionist. And I hate that my selection is so limited. I hate that I can’t have everything I would like to have because it’s expensive or just plain not in stock. Not being made or produced. Because the demand isn’t high enough and most people think physical books for braille readers are a waste of time nowadays anyway.

It’s not a waste of time.

We are here and we deserve to have things made accessible to us.

[yurisorcerer]

Read this on a whim because I had just finished volume 6 of Otherside Picnic and wanted something similar but didn't think I could commit to reading more pure prose tonight. This is uh....a weird one. Also, despite Anilist's insistence it isn't really that similar to Otherside Picnic aside from some generalities of premise. (Mostly the whole "otherworld based on urban legends" thing, which probably qualifies as a stock setting at this point.)

What we've got here is a lurid horror/thriller/mystery manga from the mind of pseudononymous music producer x0o0x. Honestly, the first several chapters of this gave me very little to go off of, mostly they just set you up to feel bad for the protagonist by giving her an over-the-top depressing backstory with an evil abusive mom who hates her and a miserable school life where she's bullied constantly, and then shove her into the spirit world (where she is menaced by shadows and grotesque monsters of course) with not a whole lot of elegance.

I will say, after a certain point I started to like her in spite of all that, because she eventually adopts a pretty likable "fuck it" attitude toward all the weird and scary shit happening around her. The cast rounding out a bit with the blue-haired girl from the cover (who x0o0x fans will probably recognize as a figure from some of their music videos) and an urban legends enthusiast that these two talk to over the phone. The visual stylings of the otherworld are compelling, and the aesthetic is very directly "digital / social media" in a way that's become commonplace in these sorts of stories. I also like the idea that since Nagisa's mom is at the center of the whole thing, it ends up looking like the Shibuya of decades past, that's kinda cool. The look of most of the monsters (which I can only describe as like, a nightmare weirdcore photoshop beast kind of vibe) is also pretty neat. Definitely a break from the norm, there, and I appreciate that.

That said, this manga is also an illustrative example of the difference between having good drawing skills and having good visual storytelling skills. Because there are points where the dialogue juxtaposed with the art makes it hard to tell what's happening in a way that I don't think is intentional. On top of that the actual *plot* about Nagisa and her abusive mother is so far just kind of unpleasant as opposed to anything else.

It might pick up at some point, but tragically, as is the case for a lot of this kind of thing, it seems like scanlations stalled out about six months back, so I might never get the chance to know.

[gomzreblogfr]

[irl mix with oc rambles - sorry im bored waiting at the storeroom and wanna talk rq HDJSJDH]

Back in the hospital to arrange some paperwork and doing stock checks for my seniors, and then they told me to wait in the storeroom cuz they got caught up with something

Anyways one of the shelves had petri dishes for some reason and Im reminded of the research phase I had last semester

During my research there was one AU, or like, just a story in general that I daydreamed about for PriceRaven that I never talked about bcuz it’s purely just a thought and for it to pass the busy days 😂 and also it will not work whatsoever JFISUDHS (you’ll see why)

Anyways, basically the AU is Price and Raven as university research students: Price is a masters student and Raven’s an undergraduate student

Context, so in my university lab we only have 6 fumehoods, 4 for undergraduate and below students and 2 for masters students— so it’s a fighting battle every week as to who gets to use it

We have a system where you can book the fumehoods ahead and my group did just that because we were dealing with microbiology related experiments which 100% requires the hood to do basically anything, and somehow that got the seniors mad because we “stole” or “wasn’t mindful of timing and usage” since we booked the hood two weeks ahead (which fuck them because?? If you want to use it then book it first then?? And also it’s not like we booked for a whole day it was for 4 hours— anyways)

I was thinking Raven’s who failed her experiment and desperately need to use a fumehood but it’s fully booked, and no one was willing to give her extra 10 minute to repeat her tests

Then she went to the opposite room and spotted one of the fumehood that was empty, eyeing it with a gulp, she’ll get in trouble for using it without booking, but it’s just 10 minutes— surely it’ll be fine—

Price who happened to pass by, who was just about to use the hood stared at her and spooked her out by speaking out of the blue, “what are you doing here?”

“Can I borrow the hood?”

“Did you book your slot?”

“…no— but it’s only 10 minutes I swear”

Queue Price watching her doing her stuff, yada yada throws in your typical “man sees another doing man’s interest in a professional manner and fells on love” plot LMAO

Sometimes

I have those thoughts where Price booked out the slots of undergraduate fumehoods just so he can watch Raven begging him to borrow the master fumehoods (the one he booked) - which realistically would get him into so much trouble and is a dick move to other students

And also, them sharing a fumehood and him holding the pipette over her hand and teaching her how to handle those really small volume of liquids without spraining her muscles and she’s just internally screaming - again, realistically can’t happen cause of cross contamination LMAO

But yeah, just a thought, anyways time to go back to work

[eyes-onthehorizon]

The Old Guard Provide... Leverage

chapter 1

Four

defective [dɪfektɪv]

Word forms: adjective

If something is defective, there is something wrong with it and it does not work properly.

(“Y’know Tig, there’s just summat wrong wiv ya.”

“That’s not true! You can’t say that!”

“Oh yeah? Says who?”)

Andromache was quickly approaching the point of disliking all people, her younger brothers included. The two of them had been at it for hours, and the banging had reached an unbearable volume.

After another minute of mentally disembowelling them, she hauled herself out of bed and stalked through to the main room.

“If you two don’t cut that out right this very fucking instant I swear to every God I’ve ever known I will pluck your bastard eyeballs out with a shitting cleaver-ended spoon and THEN—”

She stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of their guest.

As a rule, Andy tried not to swear in front of children. She achieved this mostly by avoiding them. Unless they were in danger. The mop of red hair toothily grinning at her from atop the mantelpiece was not in danger, but was very much enjoying Andy’s little hangover-fueled tirade. Andy decided she didn’t care. Thoroughly distracted, she missed the amused look that passed between her unnecessarily loud brothers.

“Good evening, Lady A. I got you some lemon-honey tea which is what Bean always has after he’s been out on the lash – I mean, silence is better but these two,” she cocked her head towards Yusuf and Nico, “Got it into their heads that if I’m gonna sleep here then I should have a bed. I told them that really wasn’t necessary, Bean’s got more than enough floorspace to put up the whole of Cheapside should he want to, he’s always off acquiring and gathering spaces, y’know? Anyways Mr Kayson says that if I’m gonna fall asleep here anyways then I should have a bed and I said I don’t need his charity but then he offered me a job, see, so then I guess I should probably be here given I don’t always wake up in the same place when I’m with Bean’s lot and that’s very unreliable for a shop girl, innit? I know lemon-honey is more for sore throat, really you’d want mint or chamomile for the head but that was all I could find. Is that okay?”

The girl paused expectantly. The silence rang in Andy’s ears a little, but at least the hammer and saw were finally resting.

Andy, taken aback and more than a little annoyed at Yusuf’s shit-stirring grin, simply thanked her for the tea.

Tig was small for her age and faster than any child had the right to be. She’d deftly pocketed quite a bit of the coinage they all carried, and savoured the adult’s reactions when she handed it back to them. Mr Kayson had put her to work watching the shop floor and had promised her reading lessons along with her wages.

“I can read just fine,” she’d protested at his first offer, until he handed her an enormous ledger and began talking her through the stock maintenance. He’d rifled through the information and Tig could feel her brain developing holes instead of thoughts. She’d been so disgusted with herself that she’d found her way into the attic, hanging upside down in the rafters until Mr Guvnor had come to join her.

Tig was used to people finding her strange. She didn’t mind too often but being left to your own devices all the time was boring. It wasn’t her fault she could climb and pick and run better than most boys, but the faster she got, the less they liked her. It didn’t matter if she toned it down or shared her loot, they never actually wanted to be friends. It’d taken Bean explaining that she wasn’t likeable for her to understand – there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t her fault; she was just made broken. Like a train line with a faulty track.

Adults, though, they were something else. They never said what they meant, calling her “sweet” or “poor thing” but never actually helping. They never actually talked to her unless she was in trouble, or they wanted something. Even then, they usually talked to Bean or Mac. She’d just nod in the corner.

Mr Kayson was… nice was not the right word. Maybe kind would be better, but who would be kind to an urchin? A thieving urchin, one who had been trespassing for months. And then he’d offered her a job and built her a bed. Not normal behaviour at all, but Tig wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yet.

Mr Guvnor was more straightforward, she’d thought, except he also turned out different. He was quiet, like she tried to be, and watchful, which she admired. He was also strange like her, which she figured out only when he was hanging upside down beside her.

“What are you doing?” Tig demanded, sounding an awful lot like those stuffy nannies she heard from the stories. “You can’t do that!”

“Come, sole, if you can then so can I, hmm?” He didn’t even look at her. They stayed there for a while, he enjoying her company, she working out how exactly she was going to get down.

“The plan has four phases,” Nico announced over dinner. “Sorella, you will go first and set the scene. I will go after, offering my business services to the estate. Tesoro, you’ll need to coordinate with Bas from here. I have the rest of the strategy, but I need to speak with Miss Jones first.”

“Who’s Miss Jones?” yawned Tig, mopping up the last of her gravy.

“Someone we’re helping.”

Children really shouldn’t look adorable when they’re suspicious, Andy decided.

“Like you’re helping me?” She directed the question at Yusuf, her tone accusatory.

Yusuf sighed, propping his face up with his palm. “Sagir, You are helping me. You are running the shop. I pay you for your work. I don’t see what this has to—”

“And building me a bed from scratch?”

“I like building things.” Yusuf shrugged good-naturedly.

“And the free reading lessons? What about them?”

“Ahh,” he wagged his finger knowingly, “Those are not free.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he crossed his arms and leaned contentedly back in his chair. Well. She’d find out the debt she owed him, and make damn sure she repaid it. At least he wasn’t perfect like she’d feared.

Tig wasn’t disappointed. Not at all.

Phase One was simple enough.

Andy would pose as a Botreaux sister, visiting the Scottish countryside in search of a Northern property and on behalf of the Emporium.

“Patronising a shop in London is exactly the quirky, eccentric, ill-advised thing someone with too much money would do,” Yusuf had argued as they’d put together her story. “It fits perfectly.”

Andy thought it was ridiculous, but she could see his point. Some had spent more on less.

The Botreaux sisters were reclusive even amongst the upper set. While such social reluctance typically bred mystery, they had somehow achieved the impossible: invisibility. At least, until their remaining male relative passed without an heir and the barony fell into abeyance, at which point their story had travelled throughout the country quicker than anyone expected.

None of the sisters had come forward in some time, and no one even knew how many still lived, which suited their job down to the ground.

Bas and Yusuf spent the next month creating a viable replica of Giotto’s bell tower sketch for Florence Cathedral. It auctioned for a very healthy sum, and within the blink of an eye, Andy was kitted out with the fancies and fineries befitting a newly wealthy woman.

It was a cold winter’s morning when Andromeda Botreaux, enigmatic beauty, began her first foray into society. They’d interviewed for and hired a real footman and coachman, but had struggled for a lady’s maid. It wasn’t until Martha had offered to go herself that everything fell into place. All being well, they’d send for Nico within a day, but the journey time meant they’d be stuck outside Aberdeen for at least three more before he arrived.

Andy had packed a spare set of knives for the journey. She flicked open the leather roll, intent on inspecting the condition of each. Martha flinched at the sight of them, recoiling into the corner of the carriage.

“Breathe,” Andy murmured.

The carriage jostled, the movement pulling a shriek from her.

“Martha. I am not going to hurt you. This,” Andy gestured towards the knife, “Is for you. Just in case.” She leaned forward, ever so slowly, tracking the younger woman’s breathing; taking her hand, she could feel her pulse racing. Andy fought the impulse to press a kiss to her wrist. It had been second nature with her—void. Instead, Andy opened Martha’s palm, met her eyes, and pressed the handle of the dagger into her hand.

“Do you know how to use this?”

Martha hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

“Show me.”

Martha’s knifework was sloppy, but they had three days to work on that. In the meantime, they discussed the least treacherous part of their lives: the future. Martha had big plans for a girl from Cheapside; she was planning to create fashionable waterproofs, scarves in particular. She’d even scouted out the factories she was going to buy from.

“I’m dead handy with a needle,” she said warmly. “Mam said I could make magic from scraps.” Andy did not miss the moment of grief that passed over her face, freshly worn out like an ancestor’s favourite blanket. “But my father couldn’t put food on the table by himself, so I got to work like everyone else. And I was proud of it.”

The silence was full of things unsaid.

“But this shop is going to be your way forward?” Andy prompted. No need to ruminate on the past, on what was lost. That way lies madness, Bas had said in a moment of hashish-inspired clarity. Better to look forward. Forward, forward. The only direction she knew anymore.

Besides, there wasn’t nearly enough whiskey in this carriage to begin to numb the pain.

Martha was looking at her expectantly, so she must have missed whatever was said. Andy rubbed a hand over her face. “Once more, please?”

[unseeleigh]

He knew something was up with Billy when he first saw him at school today but it wasn't until the final bell rang and Billy made him promise to come over later that the reality of how bad it was. Usually it's Billy who shows up at Stu's place, his parents always gone and a fridge always stocked with both food and beer for them to steal from the garage. Plus having a guaranteed empty house allows them to watch their favorite horror movies at full volume. Billy never likes having people over at his place. It's too intimate, a view into his life that isn't just the uncaring and charismatic persona he shows the outside world. As far as he knows, Stu is the only one of their friends -besides Sidney- to be invited to the Loomis home. 

So when he climbs up the trellis next to Billy's window and sees it already cracked open but no lights or sound coming from inside, Stu starts to worry. He pushes the window open and climbs into the pitch dark room. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the different lighting but once they do he spots a distinctly Billy shaped lump on the bed. 

"Hey man, what's up?" He keeps his voice low so Billy's parents don't hear him. The only response he gets at first is Billy curling tighter into a ball, and then what sounds suspiciously like a sniffle. Oh fuck.

Without a second thought, Stu crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed near Billy's shoulders. He reaches out to put his hand on his shoulder but pauses, unsure if the physical contact would be welcome. Then he decides fuck it, and follows through with the motion. The movement allows him to lean over Billy a bit, bringing his friends profile into view along with a crumpled up note in his hands. 

"Dude, you okay? What's going on?" The sniffle wasn't his imagination. There are poorly wiped away tear tracks down his face, and his eyes are puffy and bloodshot. 

Billy doesn't reply in words. Instead he just shoves the note in Stu's general direction. He has to fumble to grab it before it falls off the bed, and his stomach drops when he reads the words it contains. 

[I'm so sorry, Billy…

                       -Mom]

"She left, Stu. She's gone." Billy's voice breaks on the last word. "Didn't even say anything. She packed a bag this morning and I knew something was wrong. I could tell by how she was acting but I ignored it. The note was on the table when I came home…"

"Oh, Billy. I am so sorry," Stu doesn't really know how else to respond. Sorry doesn't seem like enough, but what else do you say when the mom of the boy you love just up and leaves without warning? He can't be lighthearted or make a joke, not about this. 

Billy's arm reaches back, his hand finding Stu's still on his shoulder and pulls it closer towards his chest. Taking the hint, Stu climbs fully onto the bed, wrapping his other arm under and around Billy to complete the hug. Even going so far as to tangle his legs with the other boys. 

Neither of them speak for what feels like hours. The two of them just lay there in each other's arms, trying to ignore the world around them. Stu rubs his thumb in comforting circles on Billy's side. 

"You won't leave me…right?" Billy's words are muffled against his pillow and are just loud enough for Stu to hear. He wraps his arms tighter around the boy in front of him, trying to infuse as much comfort into the hug as possible. Billy is the best thing in his life. He would do anything in his power to keep him from feeling like this again. Stu never wants to see him cry ever again.

"Never."

[buttbiscuit]

HoH Steve Harrington headcanons because I love him (ft a lot of Steddie)

He slowly developed hearing issues in his teens and early adolescence but didn't notice at first. He learnt how to lip read by accident because he just realised it was easier to understand people when he was doing it. He didn't know it was an actual thing.

He secretly loves that Dustin calls him a cool cyborg for having hearing aids

Going to Eddie's gigs and not giving a shit about not knowing any of the lyrics to any of the songs because he can't understand them anyway. He loves the way he can feel the loud music through his entire body.

"I can't see what you're saying!" When Eddie gets distracted and covers his mouth or turns away from Steve while they're talking.

Early mornings when he doesn't have his hearing aids in and Eddie tells him to stop stomping around so much but Steve doesn't even realise he's doing it and so Eddie calls him a dinosaur and Steve tackles him whenever he makes little t-rex arms

Absolute fucking bliss of taking his hearing aids out at night and letting the noise of the world disappear.

He can't hear those annoying cicadas everyone complains about during summer nights.

Eddie buys him an ASL book but he gives up after learning literally 3 words in ASL. He learnt enough just so he can communicate with Eddie across a noisy bar (The words are "drunk," "bathroom," and "let's go") and he never uses it anywhere else.

He loves when people see his hearing aids and assume he obviously knows sign language because he always replies with "of course" and flips them off 🖕

Saying "I can't hear you 🤷‍♂️ sorry" or "hearing aids broke this morning" when he can very clearly hear the kids but he doesn't want to listen to them

Family Video having the biggest stock of subtitled movies because Robin keeps secretly ordering them for Steve

After he gets his hearing aids he realises he really likes movies more now that he can understand the characters and follow dialogue and pick up on the musical cues

Calling out Eddie for gossiping about him across a room because even though they're not within earshot, he can clearly lipread that Eddie said his name.

Having the radio absolutely cranked in his car and it startles Robin every single time which makes Steve laugh. She'll learn to turn the volume down before turning it on eventually.

"Oh my god where are my ears" when he can't find his hearing aids in the morning and Eddie says "on the sides of your head" to which Steve shouts "Shut up!" its such a frequent occurrence that Eddie doesn't even have to say it anymore but Steve still tells him to shut up

Wayne got a bit annoyed at the boys having the TV up so loud but after Eddie explains he has to because Steve can't hear so well, he never complained about it again.

He absolutely loves that Robin and Eddie talk with their entire bodies and are so expressive and have good annunciation (which they probably picked up from doing drama in school) because he can understand them really well.

Dustin constantly trying to sneak up behind Steve to scare him but because he's so used to being extra aware of his visual surroundings it never works.

Robin learning to perfectly imitate the way he says "Huh?" every time he can't hear her from across the store

Eddie knowing immediately when Steve didn't understand what someone said because he always does the same "Yeah, totally!" nod and smile.

Steve constantly bugging Eddie to wear hearing protection at gigs and go for a hearing test.

[littlegodzilla]

Nobody writes Reedus bad boy characters like you so I have an idea for you (if you're up for it) - Justin from Sunlight Jr. His character goes to the convenience store looking for Naomi Watts's character but she has quit. Instead he finds a new cashier who's really bored working the overnight shift and looking for something (someone) to do. Barely any customers come in anyway, and the backroom is right there... 😈

Hi pretty!!

I'm here with your Justin request! It's the first time that I write about him, so be gentle with me, please.

I hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

****************

A day on the supermarket.

Justin x Reader.

One shot. Request.

Warnings: swearing. Justin is a asshole. Smut. Rough sex. Dirty talk.

Words: 2100

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red @ravendixon @livingdeadblondequeen

***********

You're so bored, the night shift is the worst you can have at Sunlight Jr. It's also true that the pay is higher, but still few take it. You need to get out of that damn town as soon as possible, you need the money, so the shift is fine.

The door is then heard and you raise your head, surprised that someone is awake. To your surprise a man walks in, a little older than you, short dark blond hair, intense blue eyes, with a funny mole above his lip. He is wearing black sunglasses on his head, even though it is nighttime, a chain necklace around his neck, a black tank top and sweatpants. You watch him curiously and see him pull out his wallet.

"Pump two." He says without barely looking at you, chewing gum.

He's pumped gas, that makes sense, or so you think, he doesn't look like he's coming from work, but you're not going to judge him. You type in the amount and wait for him to give you the money. When he raises his head with the money in his hand, he frowns and stops you from taking the bills.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asks with a bark at the end of the sentence.

"And who the fuck are you?" you reply with the same tone.

"Where's Missy?" He asks again, ignoring you.

"She's not." You shrug.

"Did they change her shift?"

"No, she's gone." You don't even know if you should tell him that, but suddenly you see his gesture harden and he purses his lips into a tight line.

"She's gone? Where?"

"I don't know, are you going to pay me or not?" you growl and he seems to tense up even more.

"Tell me if she works at another shitty place like this now."

"There's no other shitty place like this, in this town, asshole and no, she's just gone." You shrug again. "Look if your girlfriend left you with hard balls it's not my problem, give me the fucking money and get the fuck out of here."

"Bitch." He growls in response throwing the money at you and storms out slamming the door.

"Asshole." You snap back taking the bills and go on with your boring shift.

**

You find out his name is Justin, your partner tells you about him, he's Melissa's ex-boyfriend, apparently it was common for Justin to show up at the Sunlight to see her, bother her or just try to win her back, which seemed pretty pathetic in your eyes. That girl deserved better than a prick like him.

"He's cute, but never trust him, he can be with you today and tomorrow with you and someone else at the same time." Your coworker comments to you, you snort in amusement.

"Like I care." You roll your eyes. "He keeps showing up on my night shift and I wanted to know if I should take the baseball bat from home." She laughs and shakes her head.

"It's okay. Good night." She waves goodbye to you and you smile.

"Good night, see you tomorrow." You say goodbye too and leave the counter to start work.

The advantage of the evening hours is that you have much more time to do tasks that in the morning, due to the high volume of people, you can't do, picking products out of place, tidying shelves, replenishing stock, cleaning bathrooms, more thoroughly, checking and updating the warehouse stock. Unfortunately it doesn't take up the whole night and you soon start to get bored again.

The door is heard then, in the time you've been working a few people have shown up to get some cigarettes, alcohol and toilet paper, even a mother looking for powdered milk for her baby, but it's been almost an hour. You sigh, leaving your notebook on the shelf in the storeroom, and go out into the store.

"Good ni..." You start to say, but fall silent when you discover who it is.

Justin is leaning against the counter, again in his tank top and fishing shorts. His eyes bore into you and you cross your arms as he fiddles with his car keys in his hand.

"What are you doing here?"

"You shouldn't leave the box alone, some thief might come and take the money." He replies cocking his head to the side.

"Is that what you intended to do? You're not very smart then." You answer him back and see him smiling half-sideways.

"You're quick..."

"Look, if you're looking for Melissa..."

"That's not why I'm here..."

"Then what do you want?" you ask again. Your shift is already boring enough to have to put up with him.

He chews his lower lip several times before walking towards you, instinctively backing away until your back hits one of the shelves. He keeps moving towards you until his chest sticks to yours. Your breathing goes a mile a minute, your hands search for something to hit him with if you feel he's going to do something stupid, you close your eyes as he leans forward and hold your breath. You hear something jiggle in your ear and you open your eyes again to find he's holding a packet of condoms in his hand.

"I have company tonight and I need backup." He says in a raspy voice and your skin crawls with goose bumps.

"Looks to me like you've got the wrong size..." You try to regain your composure, Justin looks down at the package and snaps.

"You're right." He puts them down and picks up another package a size up.

You feel your lower belly shrink as a chuckle escapes you through your teeth. You drop the shampoo you had taken as a weapon and break away from him to go back to the counter and collect the condoms.

"If you want I can stay and have some fun." He says then, you look at him sideways.

"What makes you think I would have fun with you?" you ask with derision.

"Trust me honey, you'll have fun."

"Trust me, honey." You mimic him with a quip. "You're not as irresistible as you think you are."

Justin's smile doesn't disappear though, it even gets a little wider. He takes the pack of condoms leaving the money on the counter and walks out of the supermarket without taking his eyes off you. You sigh long leaning your forehead against the glass of the counter, you still feel your body trembling a little. It's true that Justin is not your type, that you wouldn't date someone like him, but he's wild and attractive, you can't deny it, his intense stare and his punk side gives you chills. In a good way.

When you manage to pull yourself together, you head back to the warehouse to continue with your chores. You don't reach for your notebook when you feel arms around your body pushing you against the shelf. You get scared, you're not going to deny it, you try to fight, to get him to let go, you feel his hands on your waist and his nose brush against your neck.

"You're fucking unbearable." He growls and you recognize Justin's voice, your heart calms a little.

"L-let go of me, Justin, this is harassment..."

"Harassment?" he whispers against your ear. You can't suppress the moan that escapes you in time as he reaches inside your pants and squeezes your pussy over your panties. "How can it be harassment when you're completely wet?" he speaks against your ear again, his fingers move quickly over your clit and your body arches involuntarily, moaning again.

"J-Justin..." You try to keep control, you hold his wrist, but he bites down on your neck, never letting go of your touch.

"You love to tease me, always teasing me, always with those little angel eyes, like you've never done anything wrong." He keeps talking and you have to hold on to the shelf because the pleasure starts to shake your body.

"N-no... I..." You babble, but are silenced when his fingers leave your clit and move down a little further, the tip of his finger digging into your cunt. "F-fuck..." You bite your lip spreading your legs further apart.

"Are you still going to tell me you don't want this?" he asks again in your ear. A moan is all you get in response.

You sigh as he pulls away from you, you feel like you can breathe again, but he doesn't give you much time since recovering. He turns your body to unbutton and remove your pants, your panties follow shortly after, Justin pulls down his pants, just enough to pull out his cock, hard, thick, seeking attention. You swallow hard as your eyes roam over it, and you see Justin smile in amusement, shake it in his hand, and move back towards you.

"Wait, Justin, the condoms..."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to cum inside." He assures you.

He lifts you up without too much effort, leaning your body against the shelf, spits on his hand and slowly enters you.

"Fuck, so tight..." He grunts and pushes a little harder making you moan.

"God, Justin..." You hold onto his shoulders feeling his cock stretch you and touch that spot that makes you shudder.

"You like this, don't you?" he licks his lips and moves his hips very slowly. "I can feel you squeezing me, how your pussy wants me inside..." He gasps and you roll your eyes as his cock hits a perfect spot inside you.

"F-f-fuck Justin...!" You are unable to say anything more coherent.

"There it is..." He smiles and holding you tightly he starts moving at the same angle.

His thrusts are fast and deep, the curve of his cock makes him hit you accurately with his tip, that point that makes you see little sparks, your skin bristles and you become a moaning mess. Your legs dance over his arms, his hands firmly grip your ass and he keeps moving your body against his cock, the sound of your bodies being muffled by your moans and his grunts between his teeth. The steady rattling of the rack follows the rhythm of Justin's hips as he starts to go faster, seeking his own relief.

"Uhm your pussy's taking me so fucking good..." He mumbles through his teeth, his fingers digging into the tender skin of your ass.

"Justin! Justin!" You call out, grabbing onto his shoulders again.

He quickly pulls his cock out and rubs it until he cums, staining your belly and your work shirt. You lean your forehead against his, getting trapped against his body and the rack. Justin pulls your legs off his shoulders and kneels in front of you, spreads your legs apart and lifts one over his shoulder. His nose grazes your slit and his tongue runs along your folds.

"For the love of..." You arch up holding onto the furniture as your knees begin to shake.

His tongue runs along you, fucking you with intensity, his fingers torture your clit and his free hand seeks your tit, squeezing your nipple. Too many sensations at the same time, pleasure swirls in your lower belly as his lips close over your clit and he sucks hard. You can't stop trembling, your legs want to close but he holds you in place as you cum in his mouth and are about to fall to the floor.

Panting hard, you slowly regain your composure, Justin gets up from the floor, wiping his lips. Your gazes meet and he shows you your panties.

"These are mine now." He tells you and adjusting his pants, he leaves.

**

It's not the only night Justin shows up looking for you. After your first meeting, it becomes almost a regular occurrence. The first few hours are spent working, you take care of the more heavy and hard things, after a few hours, the blond appears through the door and neither of you need to say anything, you close the entrance and lose yourselves among the shelves of the warehouse. While you hold on to the shelves and he fucks you giving you some spanking, countless dirty words come out of your mouths, but when it's all over, neither of you have anything else to say, Justin gets dressed, takes a souvenir, and you go back to your work feeling more relaxed or so tired that you really don't even know what you're doing.

It's been several weeks since all that started. Justin walks in, as he does every night, through the door, chews his lip hard and frowns slightly. He walks to the counter, discovering your partner, Molly, there.

"Hi, Justin, how can I help you?"

"Where's your coworker?" He asks trying to sound neutral. "Has she changed shifts?"

"Oh, no, she left." She explains and Justin frowns harder. "She was covering the night shift because she needed the money, she's been awarded a scholarship to college and she left." She says smiling, proud of you.

"College? Do you know if...she's coming back?"

"I highly doubt it, she hated this town." She sighs and looks at him apologetically. "Sorry, Justin, maybe if you weren't such a dick, you'd meet a real nice girl."

***********

The End.

*******

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/22/22

yes of COURSE there is a cat update

listening

this portion sponsored once again by my sister, who keeps sending me tiktoks with good background music. this is Tezeta (Nostalgia) by Mulatu Astatke off the 1998 release Ethiopiques, Vol. 4 : Ethio Jazz & Musique Instrumentale (1969-1974). super mellow and comforting, very closely tied with the other one i’ll drop below for my favorite off this album.

there are thirty of these volumes btw. very good to listen to while i work. the lead track off this fourth album, Yèkèrmo Sèw (A Man of Experience and Wisdom) sounds very like much, much later group The Black Keys for the first few seconds. in the cool-toned guitar and the reverb. in the production i guess? like sure there’s a discussion to be had about where jazz and blues and rock overlap and how much, but it did startle my brain. i don’t have music words in my brain, just some math words

-

reading

fallow week. have some mack: right on the fucking tit/fruit bat hours.

she's started doing this thing where she rubs BOTH sides of her gums along my hand when i drape it off the couch. i would like to think this is the cat version of a kiss on both cheeks

-

watching

look i tried really hard to rewatch Goncharov (1973, dir. Scorsese) but my cat wouldn't let me. like of COURSE ive seen it before, i have a dad who was home on federal holidays and watched scorsese marathons on spike tv. fun fact i didn't know there was a bisexual threesome or cucking involved until i watched it for a college film class on villains, bc of course that was not shown on american daytime marathon television!

anyway. my cat. we have watched so many spaghetti westerns together. much gunfire. several gatling guns. i don't know what it is about the Guncharov that woke her up out of a deep sleep and had her fleeing from the room. like okay, it was a partially handmade (the stock is from the actor's mother's wedding chest) AK-47 made specially for this film, further underscoring how time has passed goncharov by and the gas operation subtly foreshadowing the later flashback of the mustard gas in the tunnel attack, but i don't think that should have affected the relative loudness of the Guncharov, and i think the gatling gun in A Bullet For The General (which we rewatched last week) was MUCH louder. my cat is too interested in headphone cords, and i'm trying to teach her that cords are boring and uninteresting and extremely not for cats, and i didn't really have the heart to finish the movie on mute with subtitles still up. the lovely score is so integral to all the sofya scenes.

-

playing

i have never played a pokemon. i have been bullied into horking up sixty three american dollars, or just barely under three hours of post-tax work. i am having an all right time so far but my best friend and her husband are so fucking thrilled we finally have 1) a game in common and 2) a game we can play together. sixty three american dollars is a pretty small friendship maintenance price in the grand scheme of things and it's not like it's really going to make an impact in my overall debt HA HA.

this game has also given me personally a great many gifts in the form of SO many buff women just floating about.

why are so many pokemon Just Guys? a worrying number of bipedal twinks i can keep in a box. anyway look how cute i look!!! yes i named my starter after my cat. i am legally obliged to do so.

i wanted red hair to go with the school uniform bc at my heart i am a weak and vain woman. where the fuck does a bitch get new shirts and pants instead of just new accessories tho

-

making

now when i flipped this frame over to the right side at goodwill, i fully expected there to be a pic of jfk. instead it was jesus, and now it has thigh high johnny cash. ty @dvar-trek for the excellent suggestion.

this is the worst framing and matting job i’ve ever done using my favorite trick of “flip the art already in there around for a double mat" but it just needed to stay together long enough for a gif. every time I moved the cord the light flickered on and off independently of the switch in the cord so we will be replacing that. probably repainting it too.

[liesmyth]

There are a lot of details that bug me about the FTL ships, and I really don’t believe they were able to carry that many people. I honestly think the trillionaires left a lot of material comforts behind and were fully ready to downsize their lifestyle considerably if it meant they’d survive. Some considerations:

Space: the ships were originally designed to carry 11 billion people in cryo, packed like sardines with no need for supplies; that’s probably enough space for a few thousand people to live in long term, but no more. (I did some rough volume calculations nobody cares about but like. Just the air they’d need to breathe to survive! You absolutely cannot pack the ships too full.)

Passenger lists: the original story was that the ships carried the first wave of the planetary evacuation, but John actually says that a lot of the ship manifest names were completely made up, which I took to imply that there were less people than they thought — which makes sense to me, because they’d have needed the extra space for all the resources needed to make sure the trip was truly one way. And those would have taken A LOT more space.

Lifestyle: before leaving, the trillionaires were unloading their assets lke crazy and converting everything in material resources. Tbh to me this points to the fact that they weren’t expecting to live a cushy lifestyle on the run; I really struggle to believe they would have allotted precious space to domestic staff (because, also: how are you going to make sure they STAY your domestic staff if you can’t pay them?)

Corollary: us vs. them. If you were a shady super rich group planning to fuck over humanity, would YOU want to stock your ship with people who are likely to resent you when they find out you have fucked over humanity and they will never see their families again, and also you expect them to cook for you? That’s a mutiny waiting to happen. Why would your security people stay loyal to you if you’re all living on the same refugee boat? I can believe some core staff were brought along who didn’t know what they were signing up for, but those were probably the engineers and biologists. I really can’t believe they brought cooks and cleaners.

Secrecy! That’s one of the main points. This was a plan that would have screwed over ALL of humanity. Massively. And it was kept completely under wraps. The more people were involved, the more people might potentially slip up. Even if they don’t know what’s going on, and really think they’re Wave One to Tau Ceti. Just as John got suspicious, someone else may get suspicious. They ended up anticipating the departure, they were burning through cash to keep everyone quiet; all that would have needed to happen was for one (1) passenger to look into things and turn whistleblower a day before departure and they would have been screwed. It’s a lot easier to keep that kind of stuff under wraps if you have 15k people than if you have 100k+

tldr: my estimates are a lot more conservative than most of what I’ve been seeing around - 10k people or thereabout. I really think it was a core group of a few thousand super rich and their immediate families, any scientists, medical personnel and engineers they could have needed (who may or may not overlap with group 1) and their families, pilots + security and their families, and those hundred randos who were thrown in as appeasement when John raised a stink. It would have been in their best interest to keep the group as small as possible, everyone either a financial backer or highly skilled, most people fully committed to GFTO forever with no ties left behind to minimize the risk of mutiny.

You know the thing about BOE is like they're supposed to be descendants of trillionaires but like did they really take 0 servants with them? Is it possible on those ships John couldn't reach there were working class people taken along so the trillionaires didn't have to get their hands dirty?

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[twistnet]

nsfw alphabet [ chibs telford ]

WARNINGS ─ gn!reader, smut [ oral sex, cum, kinks, masturbation ]

DISCLAIMER ─ if you are under the age of 18, do not read [ nsfw content under cut ] 

a = aftercare [ what they’re like after sex ]

is one to light a cigarette the minute the act is done, patiently waiting you come down from your high and maybe, gain some feeling back in your legs again. his hands is coaxing you to even your breathing as he pulls you to rest against his chest

once he’s stamped out his cigarette, he’s pulling on a pair of briefs and walking to the washroom to get you cleaned up. if a bath and a change of sheets is needed, he’ll get that together for you and get the bedroom all squared away until you’re ready to join him once again

b = body part [ their favorite body part of theirs, and also their partner’s ]

his gentleman side would say that his favorite body part on his partner is their mind and tongue. nothing sexual about it, but he loves to hear you speak your mind, take control of the area you are in and take no shit from anyone

now, his more non-gentlemen side would say he’s a sucker for chests [ boobies or not ]. he loves laying his head there and listening to your heartbeat but also loves pressing his face right into your sternum. getting to bit and lick and mark every inch of the skin

on himself, he would say his hands. years of garage work, motorcycles, and other things have roughed them up quite a bit and he gets a small spark of joy when he gets to run his clast finger tips down any part of your exposed skin

c = cum [ anything to do with cum basically…i’m a disgusting person ]

going back to the above, on your chest. getting to paint you with his cum gets him hard all over again, and is not embarrassed to groan at the sight. oh, but you happen to swipe up some of the cum on your finger and pop it in your mouth? you might have just killed him

on the flip side, he does like cumming inside you, but likes to ask before doing so. but if given permission, loves watching it drip out of your hole. and might push some of it back in with a loving smile

d = dirty secret [ pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs ]

playing the game that you don’t know each other at a club party, and him taking you to his dorm for a little fun time. has never said anything, but has thought about it often

e = experience [ how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

with a previous wife and plenty of croweaters that he’s had his way with in the past, there is no denying this man has gotten around. he might try the first time to use what he’s used on croweaters before, but quickly finds that you might tick a different way and has to relearn basically everything. but don’t worry, he’ll make sure to get plenty of practice in

f = favorite position [ this goes without saying ]

missionary. standard & reverse cowgirl. doggy-style. spooning. 

g = goofy [ are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc ]

while he tends to be serious most of the time, he finds that if he can’t laugh something off like you getting a cramp midway through, or he fumbles while trying to get into a position, then the relationship won’t last

h = hair [ how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc ]

has truly given up on keeping groomed. use to in younger years make everything nice and clean, but has since stopped as he just doesn't want to do it anymore and regrowth is a bitch. now, he does trim so it doesn’t get too long

i = intimacy [ how are they during the moment, romantic aspect… ]

very affectionate in a private setting. pulls you in close and loves to just be able to touch you and have you surround him in anyway possible. whispering sweets words in gaelic, holding your face in his hands. that kind of thing

j = jack off [ masturbation headcanon ]

never really used his hand to get himself off, as there was always a croweater nearby to help him out and be his companion for the night. since he has started a relationship with you, he might do it more to keep himself faithful while on runs. he doesn’t do anything with the croweaters on runs, even though it’s always been something the married men have always done, he’s not one to partake

k = kink [ one or more of their kinks ]

tit-fucking ─ going back to his fascinations with chests, having the ability to run his cock against your sternum turns him on so fucking much. sometimes, he’ll do in unprompted, but sometimes, you pat your chest and he’ll quickly get into position

stockings ─ any color, any detail is fine with him. they look so pretty against your skin and are so soft. will literally buy you one in ever color. they stay on while everything else comes off.

l = location [ favorite places to do the do ]

his/ your home or in his dorm at the clubhouse. both are safe places for him and there is less room for interruptions and he can focus he’s sole attention on you

m = motivation [ what turns them on, gets them going ]

a strong confidence paired with a mouth that has no problem telling someone off or letting people know what you think. you sitting or riding with him on his bike -- also wearing his helmet. kicking ass against some of his brothers -- winning a drinking game, a round of pool, or darts. jeans that seem to hug all of your curves. leather attire of any kind. you speaking gaelic

n = no [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs ]

sharing you with someone ─ he’s seen some of his brother indulge in something like this and  has always felt funny about it. plus, the man has a major jealous streak when prompted and that just doesn’t mix well

degradation & abuse ─ this was after having seen it during one of the porn shoots and he had to step away, not truly understanding how someone could do that to another human in a vulnerable situation

o = oral [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc ]

oral for him is split 50/50. in his eyes, it’s only fair if you suck him off that he return the favor.

receiving ─ he’s coaching you through it, even if you know how to do it. he loves talking to you, lightly pulling your hair away from your face or affectionately caressing your cheek or jaw. he lets you do what you want, and isn’t going to dictate what you can and cannot do. as this is just as much for him as it is for you

giving  ─ okay, so maybe i lied about the 50/50 split. to a degree. once this man gets to return the favor, it’s hard to pull him away after the first orgasm. he will continue to build you up for another one and won’t come up for breath until you’ve cum at least three times

p = pace [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

depends on the mood and can range from a rough fucking or soft lovemaking.

he isn’t fast per say, most of his thrusts are quite calculated in the sense that he knows what spots make you weak at the knees or make your spine tingle. so, while the thrusts are powerful, there is no speed to them as he doesn’t want you to come undone too quickly

soft lovemaking on the other hand is just like the above, but the power behind the thrusts is toned down. it’s still there, but it’s not as rough. he takes his time,  either letting you ride him or spooning you. this pace happens to get you to completion much later, but it is so worth it

q = quickie [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

yes, yes, and yes. quickies are frequented quite heavily in your relationship, as sometimes, that is the only way the two of you can blow of some steam. a quickie will happen before runs or when you sneak off during parties to hurry back like you weren’t gone for 20 minutes

but don’t get it confused, this man would always rather have a nice, quiet session with you over a quickie any day.

r = risk [ are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc. ]

isn’t one to take risks without thinking through or talking about them first. sure, he likes that you are open enough to come and talk to him about what you would like to do in the bedroom, but would like to make sure that everyone is on the same page

s = stamina [ how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last… ]

two rounds max. and that goes for whatever mood and pace the two of you happen to be in. chibs doesn’t want to overexert himself or you, as sometimes just one session is enough to knock you out for the evening. 

now, this isn’t going to impact the amount of orgasms he’s going to pull from you over the course of the night. no one ever asked how long the sessions were going to last, just how many you are able to do

t = toy [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

was never one to use toys on partners, and had never thought for himself.

if you own toys for personal use and would like to incorporate them into the bedroom, he has no problem using them to aid in getting you off. however, he will draw the line at using them for himself, as it’s not really his thing

u = unfair [ how much do they like to tease ]

teasing is his specialty, but this man makes timed and deliberate strikes that will have to melting in his hand within a few hours. but don’t let it fool you, as he can wait for as long as he needs and he definitely isn’t going to be the one to crack 

so, if you want to push through your conversation with your friends and pretend he hasn’t been feeling you up this past hour, you go ahead. you’ll break eventually

v = volume [ how loud they are, what sound they make ]

no very loud would in comes to moans of pleasure, as they are usually quite muffled to some degree -- as he’s either muffling them into your skin as he presses kisses or is doing it more so under his breath

on the flip side, he isn’t quite when speaking to you. the amount of filth and sin that leaves his mouth as he slides into you over and over again is almost too much to handle. especially when it’s paired with his thick accent, that also, seemingly gets deeper the more settles into you

w = wild card [ get a random headcanon for the character of your choice ]

roleplay, specifically one where he can use the premise of him being a biker and you either taking on an authority figure or someone who’s seen in a more innocence light. bringing his kutte into the mix, or his bike is super appealing to him and anything the two of you can do with that is okay in his book

x = x-ray [ let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words ]

six inches. thick and slightly veiny from bottom to tip. curves slightly when erect.

y = yearning [ how high is their sex drive? ]

despite his age, he has a medium to high sex drive. this all depends on what is currently going on and how he’s feeling. 

his sex drive is medium when he’s doing day to day things. being ready as almost a drop of a hat if you are wanting to initiate something with him during some down time or at a club party. it might take just a little convincing, however, you seem to have him wrapped around your finger and he has a hard time resisting you.

his sex drive is high when he’s very frustrated -- i.e. with happenings involving the club, or when he’s been while on a run for some time. however, he is a patient man and isn’t one to pull you away mid conversation with someone just to throw you into the bed and have his way with you. he will let you come to him and from there, will go as many rounds as the two of you will allow

z = zzz [ how quickly they fall asleep afterward ]

as his finishes off his cigarette, and the post-orgasm high has settled, he pulls you in close. letting you rest against his chest as finger tips run along your spine with practiced ease. it’s his way of showing you a small hint of affection without doing too much if that’s not what you are in the mood for

at this moment, he is fully relaxed and slowly starts to draft off. there is really no telling if he falls asleep first, or if you do, but he’ll fall asleep if he wants to. but not without making sure you are well taken care of before doing so

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse Rewatches SPN 04x01

Lazarus Rising

OMG ITS CASTIEL TIME. LOVE OF MY LIFE. THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS. 

“Are we going to get away with all that blinking on TV?”

Told spouse that Jensen was buried under dirt for this scene

“being buried underground is the only way to make it legit”

“If Dean didn’t show up on the first episode of the new season, there would have been riots in the street”

“Thats an oddly shaped soft dirt man-sized hole” “Did they bury him in some shit hole?” “The trees don’t look like they’re down to me. I think that’s a weird shot” “The title card is pretty bad” “The red glitchy whatever the fuck” “I can imagine someone just saying to open it since the sign was open”

“Yes...breathe harder. We’re almost there” 🎶on a random Thursday in September🎶

MENS TITS

“Gotta have that stupid smile when you see the porno mags” “fucking condiment theft” “that noise is pretty fkn annoying. I’m not going to lie” “pretty awesome shot” “Sugar glass!!! Isn’t it just sheets of sugar?” “huh” “you would just hold the wires together to crank the starter” “not even one day back and you’re cutting yourself open” “let’s have a big bloody hug. Delicious” “this is the season where Dean starts to have that look”

The post-hell glow

“Is he bull-shitting or does he remember hell stuff later?” “he rode you out alright” “Star Wars reference” “there’s a heart on the door even” they’re married in real life

“Hug it out bro” “That was some serious panties” “nerd” “classy motel. He should be wearing a silk shirt” “first time we get a closeup of the amulet. Can you actually buy it?” “so he does remember things.” “2nd most important thing in life and you almost forget about her?” “titters” “Is this the room?” “Really? You’re going to kick your brother over a tramp stamp?” “slutty”

TO be clear - we support all sluts and whores in this house. 

“You are not invited then back to titters” “Lots of boobies in this episode” castiel

“Aw damn. That’s right - she gets fried” Isn’t this good horror? “It’s pretty decent” “They did a little eye click sound now” perky nipples

“Is he referring to the insurance commercials lady?” “sounds a little more gruesome than vaseline and a firehouse but it’s not clear where that fire hose is going” “what the fuck do the demons care about money for pie?” 🎶the boys are back in town🎶

“Do we see him now?” “I don’t know shit man” “is he going to be in the leopard print hotel?” “with the mirror on the ceiling? Oh my god. What a sex dungeon” 🎶church bells ringing in my head🎶

“Why are they lying to each other?” 🎶get caught with my pants down around an angel🎶

I mean they eventually do have their pants down in all the books I read

“Dude is probably dead. it’s not the answer you want” “is this when he learns about exorcising demons without talking? I don’t remember how he does it” “a little young to be Darth Vader but sure” just imagine watching this live

“Oh he’s been fkn ruby this whole time right?” “thats a fake ass scene. Couldn’t even bother with a stock photo”

“Oh this is the real sex dungeon. They were just fucking around before” “He’s drinking her blood right?” “calm your tits.” “that’s a really shiny knife there dean” “he’s rattling the roof” “fireworks!”

There he is!!!!

“First time I saw him - I thought he was a Russian dude from a shit show” “look at that fkn hair” “we need to figure out which one of us is prettier” “god he’s so fkn awkward” “they never use that line again about the volume” “they really worked the camera for this whole scene” “this show is finally good again”