#the synapses are a-popping

[9w1ft]

hold tf up

was-

was nobody ever gonna clue me in that end game was first released as a radio single in france on november 14th? meaning with the time difference it would’ve been like, the middle of the night of november 13th in the us?

end game. third single off of rep. technically released on 11/13. what.

end game chess lingo what

mastermind chess phrases vsfs references what

released in france first, home of paris, city of love, and how taylor and karlie spoke during the parisian nights segment of the vsfs 2013 fashion show what

paris lyrics so in love (on 11/13) that i can’t stop breathing drew a map on your queens gambit ass bedroom ceiling (afterward) what

this scene from the lover mv where the floor is their ceiling and they’re playing chess on it what

end game 3rd single paris november 13th what

[soaps-mohawk]

Price may be daddy but Ghost is going to be the Omegas first daddy

👀👀👀

I wouldn't speak too soon anon 🤭

[eyrieofsynapses]

ten minutes into Monty Python and the Holy Grail (yeah yeah ik, "it's a classic, how haven't you seen it yet?!" trust me this is the story of my life) and can I just say: what the fuck is this movie (affectionate)

[tangirlisfangirl]

this is very hetalia kin of me to say (never watched it) but there should be some father-son story about america and england that explores the trend of imperialism the struggles of interpersonal relationships between both men and parents/children in general and perpetuating cycles of violence .3.

[schlock-luster-video]

On August 31, 2004, Lemora: A Child's Tale of the Supernatural was released on DVD by Synapse Video.

[bloodstainedsapphic]

modern!ellie dating app au. for a little monthly au challenge i've tasked myself with. a most awkward first date. fluff. 2.1k words.

you matched with ellie! your eyes widen at the pop-up on your screen. could that be real? some sick, twisted glitch on the app’s end? ellie is—by no exaggeration—the cutest person you've seen on this godforsaken app since you downloaded it. sure, that’s not exactly a bragging right, but it’s true. she stands out like a diamond in a sea of grit and mediocre matchmaking.

so what do you do? of course, you don’t send a message. it’s not like there’s other options, that’s not the lesbian way.

the rest of the day wanes, and your mind drifts to other matters. only occasionally do your thoughts flicker back to ellie’s profile, just sitting there in waiting—her silly question responses, the obligatory guitar photo, how her sage-green eyes must appear even brighter, prettier in person. oh, that’s no good. you need to stifle your expectations. calm down, you remind yourself. it’s just an app. just a pretty girl on an app. only later, when you slither into bed clad in your coziest socks under dimmed lights, you’re struck with the unforeseen.  your phone buzzes, and damn near flies out of your hand when you see the culprit notification. Ellie: Hey :)

oh god oh god oh god. it’s 11 pm. too early for a booty call. or is it? hell, would you even say no to one? not with her, hell no. your fingers tremble as you mull over the best response to send back—something to capture the attention of this hot girl who defied all odds and sent the first message. You: Hi :) great. just perfect. now you look like an idiot. you huff to yourself, running a clammy palm over your face, immediately swiping to another app in a desperate bid to forget that interaction exists. maybe 5 minutes pass. Ellie: What’s up tonight? Ellie: Sorry if that’s dry, I’m new to this dating app thing you smile ear-to-ear at the follow-up. it humanizes her—this gorgeous person who’s looking at the same screen as you, right this second. she’s real, and seems to care just as you do about saying the right thing. you don’t want to muck this up, already putting too much weight into this handful of words. You: Not much, just reading before bed. You? You: And that’s okay, you’re doing fine :) maybe 30 seconds pass this time. Ellie: Oh good Ellie: And just scrolling on my phone. I swear I’m usually more exciting lol Ellie: What are u reading? You: it’s this weird sci-fi fantasy thing. like space politics and robot humanoid thingies lol You: not sure if that makes sense Ellie: No it does! That sounds sick actually

Ellie: I love sci-fi, give me weird and spacey anyday you grin, already kicking your feet a little under the blanket. she gets it. she sees you. You: real!! so you do read it too? or are you trying to impress me? lol You: either is fine you tack on the quip at the end, worried you sounded hard-to-get. you don’t want to seem uninterested at all. you pull the blanket up over your mouth, as if shrouding yourself from the anticipation. Ellie: No I do Ellie: But i’d say i’m also trying to impress you a little. Is that a crime 🤨 now you’re really giggling, your embarrassingly fluttery fingers trying to type faster than your racing thoughts can keep up.

You: not at all. it’s working 🤭 Ellie: Good :) wanna get coffee sometime? We can exchange weird spacey sci-fi books You: I’d like that :) —---------------------- saturday at 1. saturday at 1 at northrise cafe.

the plan becomes etched into your brain. you’re on edge, unsure how to approach this new development. coffee is casual, right? you’re caught wondering if your giddiness suggests that you’re incapable of being casual about anything at all. let alone this cutie in your messages.

you’re on your laptop, browsing, trying to check off the last few tasks of the day when a new ping zaps through your synapses. instinctively, you reach for your phone. 

@/els.williams liked your photo.

on instagram? you hadn’t even exchanged instagrams yet. what a little sleuth ellie is.

you don’t say anything—just pleased at her curiosity. you toss a like back, letting ellie know she hadn’t been slick.

you rake your profile, for a brief panic over the viewability of your posts. but you’re relieved when ellie plays it off, naturally, by spamming a few more of your posts in retaliation, leaning into the bit. she must not hate it.

you follow suit, liking her few posts in return. they’re pretty vague, just a few photo dumps of someone trying not to look too online. almost none of her face; only piquing your curiosity more. this starts a little back-and-forth rhythm building between you.

maybe-just maybe-she is just as eager as you.

—------------

you stare at the locked doors of northrise cafe at 12:51 p.m on what’s turned out to be a balmy saturday afternoon.

closed at 12? what the fuck? that place’ll be out of business by summer with hours like that.

your fingers scramble across the screen, firing off a message before you both end up awkwardly standing here, side by side, locked out and confused like morons who didn’t triple check the business hours. You: um change of plan You: the cafe is closed. wtf no answer. your foot taps the pavement and you look around. why isn’t she answering? your eyes stay glued to the screen. hoping, waiting, praying that the message bubbles appear. all hope seems lost at 12:57 pm. “uh. hi?” your internal panic is interrupted, looking behind you. you weren’t ready for this up close—she’s gorgeous. lips pinkened, cheeks rosey but still full of freckles, and yep, green of her eyes brighter in person. her hair, pulled back in a loose bun with some strands lining her face, sheens in the light, more reddish than brown now. she was wearing an black leather jacket, old, worn, fitting loosely on her. the looseness of the jacket complemented her skinny jeans. she did casual so well. and the way she smiled—something seraphic, inviting, in spite of the awkward situation that had arose.

you try not to trip over your own tongue, stumble over your words. “hello! hi. the cafe is closed. i tried to text you. umm…” you glance between her and the barrier that uprooted your plan. ellie steps closer, scanning the storefront, assessing the situation. her brow lifts slightly in disbelief before she presses her tongue to her bottom lip, thinking.

“i know it’s not ideal… but my place is just two blocks over,” she says, trying to stay lighthearted but careful, considerate. “....i promise i’m not a murderer.”

-------

ellie’s place is... characterized by your average early-20s space, barren in some corners, likely missing a few key essentials, but elevated by a more eccentric, nerdy memorabilia collection. it’s a cozy clutter.

not that you’re focused on that. you’re preoccupied with the fact that you’re in this one-of-a-kind cutie’s space after having only just met face-to-face. is this an absolute nightmare for the safety-conscious? mayhaps. but you trust her word about not being a murderer, willingly entering the potential lion’s den, convinced by a single glance into those soft, round, forest-colored eyes. you’ve settled on her patched-together loveseat, waiting for her return. it feels like every muscle in your body is dedicated to trying to seem casual. do you have any clue if it’s working? definitely not. “ta daa…” ellie rounds the armrest, carrying a plate teeming with whatever cheese, crackers, and olives she could scrounge together from her kitchenette. “it’s no cafe... but, uh, i think i did alright..”

she places a hard seltzer in your hand, catching you slightly off-guard. a questioning look flickers across her face as your fingers wrap around the can—an unspoken ask if you’re okay with this absolutely bastardized smorgasbord of treats.

it’s so funny, you can’t help but titter, peeling open the tab and tasting that first sip. ellie’s shoulders slump in relief as she situates the entree on the coffee table, her free hand reaching for the remote.

“i guess..there’s something special about sharing a charcuterie board and seltzer on the first meeting with a not-murderer,” you say, reaching out to clang your cans together.

she snorts at that, the sound short and unexpected, like she hadn’t meant to laugh but couldn’t stop it. she gently knocks her can against yours, the corner of her mouth twitching up. her knees subconsciously mirror the gesture, brushing against yours on the semi-cramped seat.

there’s a comfortable sliver of silence. maybe you’re both actively deciding which topic is best to redirect the afternoon. your eyes drift to her knickknacks—you start examining them more closely, hoping to jog ellie’s memory, silently nudging her to show off a little.

luckily, she catches on. she swallows the last of her cracker and rises, pointing toward the bookshelf brimming with comics. 

”oh, right- i can show you i meant it- the sci-fi nerd, thing..hopefully you find it as cool in person,” she musters up with a sheepish grin, gesturing you over. you follow, a collected smirk on your face to try and reassure her. you did think it was cool, in a dorky way. a dork you’d hope to have the courage to kiss senseless if the opportunity arose for sure. 

ellie traces the spines of her collection, introducing her volumes of comic books in a sort of impromptu show-and-tell. the more receptive you are, the more enthusiastic she gets—an excited aura radiating off her as she spouts off details, trivia, favorite arcs. you’re enamored with her nerding out. it’s endearing, disarming. it proves her humanness in a way that makes you fall further, faster.

the shelf is just the beginning, she shows off her trinkets littered all over, giving you a proper feel for her lived space and by proxy- ellie herself.

ellie suddenly looks taken aback. she scratches the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed, like she realized something was missing.

“it’s a bit..quiet? would you mind if i put on some music?”

eventually, ellie nabs a playlist, deciding it’d be nice. without a speaker, the sound quietly emits from her phone, a blend of alt-rock and dusty classics older than either of you. you sway a little in approval. it’s a small thing, but it sweetens the growing ease between you.

“anyway, don’t let me do all the talking. what are your favorites?” ellie puts the spotlight on you, and you return to the tightly-fit love seat, ellie tucking one leg underneath her and leaning in, freckles as evident as ever- allowing you some room in more ways than one. 

you snack on ellie’s make-do cheese board, conversing about your favorite stories, exchanging fan theories and controversial opinions, playfully debating for the hell of it. there are even a few little couch-dances to whatever’s playing. it’s delightfully awkward, it’s low stakes, and you’re growing more comfortable by the second. 

time slips away during the warm, lively chatter. you’re only aware that it’s getting to be late when the sun melts into a golden glow that peeks through the window shades.

“would you look at the time?” you announce, stretching out from that extended time curled up, invested in this girl. you shoot ellie the universal look, initiating a regretful, hesitant goodbye. seems neither of you really want it to end- but simultaneously fear being the one acting ‘too much’ or overstepping. 

ellie escorts you down to the entrance, hands shoved into her pockets of her skinny jeans, steps dragging at a snails pace.

you hover. glance at her mouth under the dim, flickering entryway light. she does the same—shoulders curled forward, eyes darting. both of you standing there, waiting for the other to act brave just as ellie had with that first dm—the one that led you here. ellie even rocks forward on the balls of her feet, eyes flitting to your lips and down to your shoes, almost having the nerve to go for it. 

but, alas, the loserishness wins over.

you lift a small wave, which ellie volleys back to you. finally parting ways, ellie stepping backwards, retreating into her place. a space you already sorely missed, despite only having visited one time. but you’re already, eagerly hoping it’s not the only time you grace the inside of it.

you‘ve hardly turned the street corner when your phone dings.

Ellie: I had a good time. Hope u did too :) Lowkey wish I had kissed you you stop walking, grinning at the screen like a dumbass and biting back a tiny, smitten squeal. 

You: next time <3 

[sugarwarachan]

aizawa shouta: A—Z nsfw headcanons

andy's notes: here's to my favorite super-sleepy hero, and to the people on this app who are as obsessed with him as i am.

cws: smut nsfw, 18+, many many warnings lmao but some highlights: breeding, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, brat taming, dom/sub, masturbation, sex toys, Daddy/sir kink

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

One of the best at aftercare in terms of emotional check-ins. He’s rerouting your synapses every time you fuck, so he makes sure to bring you back down to earth gently. He always confirms with you that you liked everything (and if you didn’t, what to do next time) while holding you close and playing with your hair.

B = Body part (favorite body part, their own or their lover’s)

Ass. Man. 👏 Loves smacking it, laying on it, watching it jiggle when you walk or popped high in the air when you suck his cock.

On him? Probably his hands (mostly because you won’t stop drooling over them and begging him to choke off your air supply).

C = Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Big ol' breeding kink for this man, so expect him to cum inside you CONSTANTLY. He's also not big on masturbating, so when he cums, he cums a LOT.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory)

Loves to cum on your face. A part of him feels guilty, but the primal side of him wins out every time he sees his creamy seed all over your pretty lips.

E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

I don’t see him as much of a one-night stand kind of guy, but he’s had a few serious partners and learned what he likes.

F = Favorite position

Doggy or missionary. (He’s an old man and he likes what he likes.)

Doggy because he likes to manhandle your hips and ass while he's grunting into your cunt.

Missionary for the intimacy and the eye contact. He loves to say the nastiest shit while you looking you right in the eye.

G = Goofy (how serious are they)

He’s not cracking jokes by any means, but he loves to tease you and make you blush.

H = Hair (grooming habits)

Y'all, this dude is a MAN. Constant five-o-clock shadow that scratches at your inner thighs until he grows it out enough to be soft. Dark hair on his chest that tapers down to the yummiest happy trail. Well-maintained pubic hair. If he’s not dating someone, he’ll let it get a little crazy, but cleans it up as soon as he has someone.

I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He’s a mixture of both, and you never know what you’re gonna get *faints* You'll be in the middle of the filthiest fuck of your life, and Aizawa will randomly start telling you how beautiful you are and how much he wants to marry you.

J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

I don’t know why, but I do not see this man masturbating unless he’s as down bad as he can go. Like he feels insane because he’s twisting his cock like a teenager over you.

K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

I think he’s experimental and willing to discover kinks with you BUT his main ones: breeding, breath play, edging/overstimulation, brat taming, D/s, daddy/sir kink, somnophilia

L = Location (where they like to get it on)

Prefers to fuck you somewhere private.

Within your own home, though, any room is fair game. If he had to pick, he would say the bedroom first (he's a romantic), and the kitchen second (because of how many times he’s eaten you out on the counter).

M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Intelligence/competency. If you're really good at your job/super knowledgeable about a subject, he's grabbing the back of your neck and dragging you off to the bedroom.

Otherwise, he’s a pretty simple guy: lingerie, red lipstick, his old shirt... doesn't matter. He’s into YOU.

N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Don’t really see him being into pegging. no matter how much I might want this

O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He’s a giver!! Loves nothing more than making you go dumb on his tongue over and over again. He’s patient, too, so he always winds you up to the edge and holds you there until you’re wailing at him to let you cum.

When you return the favor, he’s the most appreciative motherfucker on earth. Raining praise on you about how well you suck his cock.

P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Strong, measured strokes. He doesn’t like to go fast unless he’s worked you up and you’re begging him to.

Q = Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He doesn’t hate quickies but he certainly doesn’t love them.

R = Risk (do they like to try new things)

Depends on his partner. If you want to try new things, he's happy to oblige. But I don't think he would be disappointed if you weren't naturally willing to take risks or try new things all the time.

S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Okay, I love him, but he is tired. I think on a good day, he can do two or three rounds if you give him some time to recover, but he usually prefers one long session and a long cuddle after.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Definitely the type to see sex toys as an important addition to the bedroom and not as competition.

however

Say he's out on a mission and specifically tells you not to use your vibrator until he gets home... and you ignore that? expect to be denied your orgasm for hours

U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Literally all he has to do is rest his hand on your lower back and whisper into your ear that he wants to go home and you're ready for him.

V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

King of talking you through it. Once he finds out you like his voice, he uses it to his advantage (see above lmao). Can get you wet just by saying a few key phrases. Tends to grunt and groan during the act itself. Whimpers only when he’s really sensitive and you suckle the tip of his cock.

W = Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

Maybe this is just me projecting, but CNC 🤭

X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

7 inches and girthy. Like you need prep every time kind of girthy. Nice little curve to the tip. Uncut.

Y = Yearning (sex drive level)

When he’s not in a relationship, it's almost nonexistent. The man has a lot of shit on his plate!

When he's in a relationship, though, his sex drive slowly builds back up and when you’re alone together, he's almost always touching you.

Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He’s a tired man!!! He always makes sure you’re comfy and taken care of before he drops off, but once he does, he’s OUT.

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works pls. reblogs and comments always appreciated <3 If you'd like to be added to my general taglist, let me know bbys!!

taglist: @cielito--lindo, @one-scarred-mofo, @uekarashi

[bullet-prooflove]

Lipstick: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Prequel piece to:

Crisis

ASMR For The Soul

Something To Complain About (NSFW)

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

It’s the second date and you’re wearing lipstick.

It’s stunning shade of fire engine red that Robby hasn’t been able to take his eyes off all night, especially now back here in your apartment as he sits on your couch, his coffee cup left untouched on the side table.

“I think you’ve been working too hard.” You murmur as your hands come to rest on his knees, parting this thighs.  You kneel down in front of him and his cheeks colour at the implications. “And I think you need help relaxing.”

There’s been a tension in him all night, a remnant of the shift he was on before he took you out tonight. He finds it hard to relax when it’s been intense, everything feels too raw, too stark, his leg jangles, he finds himself checking his watch, a repeated anxious habit from The Pitt. That nervous energy is enough to scare anyone off.

Not you though.   

You have a lowkey understanding of it from your work as a lifeguard. You’ve lost count of the amount of kids you’ve pulled from the deep end of a city pool because their parents couldn’t get off their phones for a minute.

“Oh is that what you think?” He murmurs as his fingertips tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. “You could be right.”

“I know I’m right.” You tell him as you unzip his trousers. His cock juts out through his underwear, the dark fabric already damp with pre-cum. “It’s the lipstick isn’t it? That’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“It may do a little something for me.” He admits, biting his lower lip as you draw his underwear down past his hips. “I’m not used to-”

A loud moan escapes his mouth as your fingers wrap around the shaft, pumping slowly.

“You’re not used to women dressing up for you or getting on their knees and worshipping you?” You question.

“Fuck.” He hisses through his teeth as your tongue swipes over the tip. “No, I-”

“Oh Robby.” You tut as you lick up the shaft, your eyes locked on his. “Those women before me, they didn’t know how to treat you did they? Don’t worry baby, I’m going to make sure you get everything you deserve.”

You envelope him then and the noise that leaves his throat, it’s goddamn filthy. His gaze comes to rest on those lips, the red smearing across his dick and it ignites something in him, something desperate, something wild.

“Allegra.” He whispers, his hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck, keeping you close. He starts to thrust and he feels you smile around his cock, because Robby, he never takes what he needs. He just gives until there’s nothing left.

The sound of his hitched breathes echo through the living room, each one louder and more punctuated as he fucks your mouth, that ecstasy rising up in him like a wildfire building and building until it sears through his synapses, obliterating every single thought in his head.

He cries out your name as he climaxes, his release spilling down your throat in long hot spurts as his grip tightens, holding you in place. You drink him down like whiskey, your tongue tracing over him, licking him clean before you pull off with a lewd ‘pop’.

You’re a mess, lipstick smeared across your mouth, lips pert and glistening. He runs his thumb over them before pushing it inside and you bite down on the pad sending a jolt of electricity right down to his dick.

“You fucking beautiful.” He tells you, because there is something inside you that calls to him, it’s been there ever since he first laid eyes on you teaching that lifeguard class to Jake.

“Oh Robby.” You say, standing up and reaching behind you to unfasten the tie on the back of your dress. “You haven’t even seen me naked yet.”

Love Robby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cherbii]

NEIGHBOUR NEIGHBOUR pt.1

ft. Shiu Kong [& Toji]

synapses -> it’s hard not to fall for your two overly hot dilfs of a neighbours. it’s harder to keep your hands out your panties with them in mind. too bad your walls are thin!

warnings -> language, smoking, smut! voyeurism, p in v, masturbating, age gap, public sex, kissing, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 ya tap it), dirty talk, tiddy worship, tiddy play. mdni

[PART 2] <- Toji’s version. [PART 3] <- tag team

You were sitting in your room, the quiet hum of the apartment building just a background noise as you flipped through a magazine, your mind half on the pages, half elsewhere. Your parents were in the living room, chatting away, but you weren’t paying much attention. You had the door to your room open, letting in the cool evening air, and the space felt familiar, almost comforting.

It wasn’t a big apartment, but it was yours, and it suited you just fine. You were used to the routine—nothing ever really changed in the building.

You’d seen Toji and Shiu around your whole life. They were your dad’s friends, older guys who lived in the apartment across the hall. Nothing unusual. They’d wave at you in the hallway or pop by the house when your dad was around. But lately, things had started to feel different.

You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but you started noticing them in ways you hadn’t before. It wasn’t anything obvious at first—just subtle glances that seemed to last longer than they should, the way their smiles seemed a little too knowing. You couldn’t shake the feeling that they were looking at you differently, but you told yourself it was nothing.

Toji had always been a bit gruff, but he was your dad’s friend. He wasn’t the type to make things weird. But then Shiu would stop by, too. He wasn’t as forward as Toji, but he had this way of speaking to you that made everything feel heavier, like there was more to his words than what was being said.

The first time you’d really noticed it was when his hand brushed against your shoulder a little too long as he passed you in the hall. You had tried to ignore it, just a casual touch, but now it was hard to forget. Whenever they came around, the space between you felt a little tighter, as if something was hanging in the air, something unspoken.

You tried not to think about it, reminding yourself that they were just your dad’s friends. But the more you saw them, the more it felt like maybe there was something more. They were older, sure, and they’d always been around, but lately, it seemed like they were lingering a little longer, looking at you a little harder. Nothing had happened yet, but the tension was there, subtle and undeniable.

You couldn’t help but feel it when they were around, an electric undercurrent that made your heart race when you caught their gaze.

Toji’s chuckle, deep and rough, made your pulse quicken in a way that was hard to ignore. He’d joke with your dad, but when he turned to you with that crooked smile, you could feel the weight of it settle into your chest. It was a typical evening when your dad invited Toji and Shiu over for dinner.

You found yourself busy in the kitchen now, setting the table when they arrived. You could hear the deep, familiar tones of their voices from the living room as they made their way inside. Toji’s laughter echoed, and you could already feel your stomach flip with that familiar mix of nervousness and excitement. The moment you stepped into the room, you were greeted with the usual smiles, your dad clapping Toji on the back like old friends do.

“Hey, kid.” Toji greeted with that grin you couldn’t help but notice, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer than usual.

You smiled back, giving a slight nod. “Hey, Toji. Shiu.” You tossed a glance at Shiu, who gave you a quiet nod in return. He didn’t smile much, but the way his eyes followed you made something stir in the pit of your stomach.

Dinner went on as usual—chatter, laughter, and your dad recounting old stories, but you could feel the attention from Toji and Shiu. It was in the way they looked at you when they thought you weren’t looking, how their eyes would flick to your legs when you moved or how the air seemed a little thicker whenever you made eye contact.

It wasn’t anything overt, but it was there, and it made you feel like you were being watched, in a way that was both thrilling and unsettling.

At some point, you moved to bring another dish to the table, but as you bent over to pick it up, you knocked a glass off the counter. You reached down to grab it, and in doing so, the hem of your skirt rode up higher than you intended. The moment you straightened up, you could tell they’d seen, the look in Toji’s eyes sharp as he quickly shifted his gaze.

You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. “Whoops, guess I’m clumsy tonight.” You said with a light laugh, trying to keep your composure, though you could feel your pulse speeding up.

Toji grinned, his voice a little lower than usual. “Yer always gettin’ in trouble, huh, kid?”

You leant against the counter, shrugging casually. “Guess I’ve got a knack for it.”

Shiu’s eyes were on you as well, though he didn’t say much, just watching with that quiet intensity that always made you feel a little nervous, a little excited at the same time.

When it was time for them to leave, the normal farewell felt different, charged with an undercurrent you couldn’t shake. Toji clapped your dad on the back, laughing about something he’d said earlier, but his eyes flicked back to you one last time before he stepped out the door, leaving you with the feeling that the evening wasn’t quite over—that the next time they came around, things might be different. You watched them leave, a thousand questions running through your mind. What had just happened? What was it between you and them?

And why couldn’t you stop thinking about it?

Maybe that’s why that evening, in the dark abyss of your room, were your sleeping shorts crumpled at your ankles as your fingers rubbed away between your legs, drawing whines and moans from your lips.

Your other hand was next to your head, clawing at your pillow, your hips chasing your hand. Your one breast had fallen free from your top, jiggling as your body spasmed. Your eyes were screwed shut, a warmth licking between your legs, a tingling feeling growing.

And all this because your thoughts ran wild of your two neighbours. Imagining them ruining you in the most debauched ways that would put anyone to shame.

Thoughts of taking Toji, having him fill your cunt while his sweaty body crushed you, pounding away with no mercy.

Thoughts of taking Shiu, having him bend you over, strong hands holding your hips, muscles flexing as your feet would lift off the floor while he used you.

Thoughts of the both of them, Toji taking you from behind, balls slapping your clit while your mouth was stuffed with Shiu’s cock, drooling and gagging on him while he’d pet your hair and call you all sorts of names.

Your back arched as you came, the hot liquid dribbling from your puckering hole and down your ass, staining your sheets below.

You sighed, body slumping, pulling your dripping fingers from between your legs and letting it fall beside you, too tired to care for wiping, and instead opting to fall asleep as is. You’d worry about the mess tomorrow.

It was a cycle, honestly. Most nights you your fingers were buried in your cunt, or your legs straddled your pillow as you pretended it was one of them, while in the day you gave the two men smiles.

The following day was your parent’s anniversary, naturally they’d go out. You were fine with that.

“Sweetheart, your dad has asked Shiu if he could watch you for the evening.” Your mother told you.

You were not fine with that.

“I’m an adult, I don’t need a babysitter.” You complained.

Your mother only smiled, completely ignoring your protest. "I know, sweetheart, but you know how your father is. He just wants to make sure you're safe."

Safe from what? You were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You didn’t need anyone watching over you like you were still in high school. And of all people, Shiu? It wasn’t that you disliked him—far from it, you’d know.

But having him around meant being under the sharp eye of someone who had known you since you were a kid, someone who had a habit of teasing you just to see you squirm. “Why not Toji?” You asked, arms crossed.

“Because he’s busy. His son is, I’m sure, visiting from that school.” Your mother said simply as she fastened her earrings.

“This is so stupid.” You muttered under your breath.

Your mother kissed your forehead, unfazed by your complaints. “Just behave, alright? We’ll be back late.” And with that, she left.

The hours ticked by too quickly, and before you knew it, there was a knock at the front door. You sighed, dragging yourself to open it, already knowing who it would be. Shiu stood there, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers.

His dark eyes flicked over you lazily before he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “Didn’t look too thrilled to open the door, sweetheart.” He said, lips twitching.

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside so he could enter. “Maybe because I don’t need a babysitter.”

He smirked, tapping the ash from his cigarette before shutting the door behind him. “That so? Your old man thinks otherwise.”

You crossed your arms, watching as he made himself comfortable, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch like he owned the place.

He stretched out, legs spreading just enough to take up space, the picture of ease. “So, what’s the plan?” He asked, voice carrying that ever-present amusement. “You gonna glare at me all night, or are we actually doing something?”

You scoffed, leaning against the arm of the couch, arms still folded as you stared at him. "I wasn’t exactly planning a fun night in with my babysitter."

Shiu exhaled another slow drag of smoke, eyes flicking up at you through his lashes, amused. "Babysitter, huh? Didn’t realise I was dealing with a brat tonight." His tone was lazy, but there was something else under it, something that made your skin prickle.

You knew that look—he was toying with you, waiting to see if you’d bite. You rolled your eyes, pushing off the couch and making your way toward the kitchen. "I’m getting a drink. Try not to fall asleep on my couch while I’m gone." You could still feel his gaze on you as you moved, like a slow drag of heat along your spine. You pulled open the fridge, grabbed a cold bottle of water, and twisted the cap open.

But before you could take a sip, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, steady and unhurried. Then, the unmistakable scent of his cologne mixed with smoke curled around you. "That all you’re drinking?" His voice was lower now, closer, and when you turned, he was right there, leaning against the counter beside you, one hand braced beside your hip.

Your fingers tightened around the bottle as you met his gaze. "What, were you hoping I’d crack open a beer with you?" You meant it as sarcasm, but his smirk deepened, gaze dragging lazily down your body, slow enough that it sent a strange heat creeping up your neck.

"Wouldn’t say no to that," he murmured, fingers reaching up, plucking the bottle from your grip with ease before taking a swig himself. He let the moment stretch, dark eyes watching you over the rim, the way you swallowed, the way your body suddenly felt too warm under his attention. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. His eyes flickered down, catching the movement, and you saw the way his jaw flexed just slightly before he lowered the bottle, stepping in just a little closer. "You always this mouthy?" His voice was quieter now, but there was something about it, something that made your breath catch for just a second too long.

You tilted your chin up, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "You always this annoying?"

Shiu chuckled, shaking his head slightly, his hand still resting against the counter beside you, caging you in without even touching you. "Nah," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Only when I think someone’s got a problem with authority."

His meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the tension between you both thickened, hanging heavy in the air. Your pulse quickened, and suddenly, it didn’t feel so easy to hold his gaze anymore. You swallowed, refusing to look away even as your body betrayed you, heat curling low in your stomach.

"Authority?" You scoffed, though your voice wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be. "You’re not my dad, Shiu."

His smirk deepened, exhaling another slow drag of smoke, eyes never leaving yours. "No," he muttered, tapping the cigarette against the counter, "But you sure got defensive quick."

You rolled your eyes, shifting your weight, ignoring the way your skin felt too tight. "You’ve got a real ego, you know that?"

His chuckle was deep, almost lazy, and he took another slow step forward, the space between you shrinking until you could smell the faint scent of whiskey on his breath, the smoke clinging to his clothes. "Not ego, just calling it how I see it."

His gaze flicked over your face, sharp and unreadable, like he was piecing something together. Then, almost offhandedly, he hummed, tapping his cigarette against the counter.

"Besides, from what I heard last night, you don’t seem to mind being put in your place."

Your stomach dropped, heat rushing straight to your face as his words sank in. He heard.

Your throat went dry, mortification prickling under your skin. "You need to mind your own business."

He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head as he took another slow drag. "Can’t help it when your walls are so damn thin," he exhaled, smoke curling in the air between you. "Kinda hard to ignore." His tone wasn’t teasing, not exactly, but there was something in it—something knowing, something that made your pulse hammer a little too fast.

You folded your arms over your chest, glaring at him like that would somehow make him drop it. "You done?"

He glanced at you, then toward the sliding door leading to the balcony, exhaling another breath of smoke before moving toward it. "C’mon."

You frowned, not moving. "Where?"

He slid the door open, stepping out into the night air without looking back. "Need a smoke."

For a moment, you debated ignoring him, acting like you had better things to do. But you hated the way your skin still burned, the way your mind was stuck on what he said, stuck on the fact that he heard you.

With a quiet huff, you followed, the night breeze hitting you as you stepped onto the balcony. Shiu leaned against the railing, lighting another cigarette, the glow briefly illuminating his face before he exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the open air. The city stretched below, distant lights flickering, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"You always that loud?" His voice was casual, like he was just making conversation, but you stiffened anyway.

"Shiu, drop it."

He hummed, not looking at you, tapping ash over the edge of the railing. "Just curious."

You clenched your jaw, gripping the cool metal of the railing, willing yourself not to let him get under your skin. The night air did little to cool the heat still clinging to you, and you hated that you could still feel his words lingering, curling in the back of your mind like smoke. Shiu let the silence drag, the only sounds between you the distant hum of the city and the occasional crackle of his cigarette.

He exhaled another slow breath of smoke, tapping his cigarette against the railing, his gaze flicking toward you briefly before settling back on the city.

"You embarrassed or somethin’?" His voice was calm, unreadable, like he was just stating a fact. It made irritation prickle under your skin, your grip tightening on the railing.

"I just don’t see why you’re so interested," you muttered, staring out at the lights below, refusing to look at him.

Shiu hummed low in his throat, taking another drag before snuffing out what was left of his cigarette against the metal. "Not interested," he said, exhaling the last bit of smoke before flicking the butt over the edge. "Just didn’t expect it." That made you glance at him, brows furrowing.

"Expect what?"

He turned his head just slightly, his gaze finally settling on you in full, dark and unreadable under the dim light. "That you’d sound like that."

Your breath hitched before you could stop it, heat creeping up your neck as something thick settled in the air between you, something heavy, something waiting. Shiu’s gaze lingered on you, unwavering, as if he was measuring every shift in your expression. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but there was no denying the tension hanging thick between you.

He stepped closer, not rushing but not giving you the space you instinctively wanted, his presence like a force you couldn’t push away. "It’s alright," he said, his voice low, almost too calm. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."

You stiffened, your heart picking up pace, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat in your chest, the way your breath seemed to hitch just the slightest. He watched you closely, eyes glimmering faintly, as if waiting for something, waiting for you to do something, anything. For a moment, you couldn’t think, couldn’t figure out how to handle the way your body was reacting to him being so close, the sharp awareness of his presence making everything feel amplified.

Finally, he moved, slow but deliberate, leaning in just enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, the scent of whiskey and smoke surrounding you. "I don’t bite." He muttered, his breath brushing against your ear as his hand settled lightly on the railing beside yours, close enough to touch but not quite.

It was maddening, the way his casualness seemed to only heighten the intensity of the moment, his calm demeanor doing nothing to alleviate the building pressure between you. You could feel the weight of his words, the subtle challenge in his tone, the way he knew exactly what he was doing.

The choice was in your hands now—whether to pull away or let whatever had been building between you both finally take shape. You shook your head. “You’re old enough to be my dad. Hell, you’re his best friend.”

Shiu didn't flinch, his expression unreadable. He let out a quiet laugh, the sound low and almost too calm. "That so?" He murmured, his voice smooth, like he was trying to find some hidden meaning behind your words. "Doesn't mean I can't be interested."

Your heart skipped at the implication, but you pushed it aside, keeping your voice steady. "You're not some... some guy who just forgets that."

He leant in a little closer, the space between you shrinking, his breath warm on your skin. "I’m not forgetting anything," he said softly, his gaze flickering over your face like he was trying to piece something together. "But you’re not exactly doing a good job of pretending you’re not interested either."

The heat in your chest flared, the words hitting harder than they should have. You tried to hold your ground, but his presence was suffocating, drawing you in, like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin. He reached for his cigarette pack again, the movement slow, deliberate, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your pulse spike.

"You’ve got a funny way of hiding it." He added, his voice lower now, the edge of something dark in his tone. Shiu's eyes never left yours as he took another step closer, the distance between you practically nonexistent now.

His hand lingered by yours, just close enough to make you aware of how easily he could close the gap, how little space was left for anything but the heat growing between you. He took a slow breath, as if testing the air, his lips curving just slightly into a smirk.

"I think you're lying," he murmured, his voice low, smooth. "You are interested." The words hung in the air like a challenge, and before you could respond, his hand was brushing against your arm, the touch almost electric.

You flinched, not expecting it, and yet your body seemed to lean into the warmth of his touch, as if it was the only thing your skin had been waiting for. He watched you closely, his hand now settling just beside your waist, his fingers grazing the edge of your shirt.

"I’m not going to pretend I don't notice," he said, his tone softer now, more personal. "And I’m pretty sure you’re not fooling anyone either."

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of his gaze almost too much to handle, and before you could think of pulling away, he was close enough that you could feel his body heat, his presence overwhelming, his lips hovering just inches from your ear.

"I don’t want to play games." He whispered, his voice dark and low, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slid from your waist to your back, the movement slow and deliberate, pulling you just a little closer.

You could feel his heartbeat now, the warmth of his chest pressing against you, and despite every instinct telling you to step back, to keep things distant, you found yourself frozen in place, every nerve in your body tuned to him.

Shiu leant in even closer, his lips brushing the side of your neck, the contact so light it almost felt like a tease. "If you're going to keep pretending you don't want this," he murmured, "You’re going to have to try a lot harder."

The words left a burning trail in their wake, and the space between you both felt impossibly small.

With no more hesitation, Shiu closed the gap, his lips pressing firmly against yours in a kiss that was everything you’d been avoiding. It was urgent, intense, and there was nothing slow about it. His hand slid to your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, until there was no space left, only the heat of his body and the sharp rhythm of his breath mixing with yours.

Shiu didn’t give you the chance to think, to hesitate, to pull away. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your stomach tighten, his hand tightening in your hair just enough to send a sharp thrill down your spine. He kissed you like he’d known this was coming, like he’d been waiting for you to finally stop pretending, and the worst part was that you kissed him back just as eagerly.

His other hand slid down, firm against your lower back, pulling you against him so there was no mistaking the heat radiating off him, the way his body pressed so perfectly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, his breath warm, his movements slow but deliberate, like he wanted to take his time unraveling you.

You let out a shaky breath against his mouth, but he didn’t give you the chance to catch it, tilting his head and deepening the kiss until you felt lightheaded. His thumb brushed against your jaw, guiding you closer, his grip firm but not forceful, just enough to make you feel how much control he had over the situation—over you.

You barely registered the way he backed you up until your spine met the railing, the cool metal pressing into your skin in sharp contrast to the heat of his body against yours. His lips left yours only to trail along your jaw, down the side of your neck, the scrape of his stubble against your skin making your breath hitch. "You still gonna tell me you don’t want this?" He murmured against your throat, his voice rougher now, like he was barely holding something back. His fingers traced along your waist, slow, teasing, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt before pulling back like he was testing how far you’d let him go.

He chuckled when you didn’t push him away, when your breath came out a little too fast, when your fingers curled slightly into his jacket instead of shoving him off. His lips ghosted over your pulse, lingering there, feeling the way it raced under his touch.

"Didn’t think so." He muttered, and then his teeth grazed your skin just enough to make you shiver. Shiu’s teeth scraped your neck again, harder this time, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers dug into your waist, keeping you right where he wanted you.

You swallowed hard, but your body betrayed you, pressing into his like it was instinct. His lips dragged up to your ear, slow, deliberate, his voice dropping into something dark and teasing.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his fingers trailing under your shirt, just barely grazing your bare skin. “That because of me, sweetheart?”

You let out a shaky breath, heart hammering, fingers gripping the front of his jacket, but you didn’t push him away. “You’re so full of yourself.” You shot back, but your voice wasn’t as steady as you wanted it to be, and he smirked, like he could hear it, like he could feel the way your body was reacting to him.

“You’re not denying it.” His lips ghosted over yours, his grip tightening, making sure you felt just how solid he was against you. His fingers slid higher under your shirt, the rough drag of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You sucked in a breath, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again—harder, deeper, like he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the chance to think, to second-guess. His tongue slid against yours, stealing the air straight from your lungs, and you let out something between a gasp and a whimper, gripping his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you steady. He pulled back just enough to let you breathe, his forehead pressing against yours, his hand still gripping your waist, his thumb stroking slow, lazy circles against your bare skin.

“Still wanna talk about how I’m your dad’s friend?” He murmured, his lips brushing yours, his voice laced with amusement. You swallowed, your breathing uneven. “Shut up.”

Shiu chuckled, low and satisfied, his fingers slipping just a little higher before he kissed you again, slower this time, but just as deep, just as consuming, his other hand threading into your hair, tilting your head just how he wanted. His teeth caught your bottom lip, just enough to make you gasp, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pressing you harder against the railing. You could feel every inch of him, the heat of his body, the strength in the way he held you, and it wasn’t enough, it still wasn’t enough.

You tugged at his jacket, desperate for something, anything, but he was still teasing, still keeping just enough control to drive you insane. “You’re holding back.” You breathed against his lips, and his grip on you tightened, like your words struck something in him.

Shiu’s gaze darkened, his smirk fading. “You don’t want me to hold back,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost dangerous. His hand slid higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your bra, his other hand gripping your hip, pulling you against him like he wanted to make sure you felt exactly what you were doing to him. “You sure you can handle that?”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling tighter into his jacket as his grip on you grew firmer, more demanding. “Try me.” You muttered, your voice uneven but laced with challenge, and that was all it took for something in Shiu to snap.

His smirk vanished, replaced by something hungrier, something darker, and before you could take another breath, his hands were on you—fully, completely—dragging you flush against him, his touch no longer teasing but possessive. His fingers traced higher, rough against your skin, dipping beneath the fabric of your shirt like he had every right to, like he already knew you wouldn’t stop him.

His lips crashed against yours again, the kiss deeper, hotter, his tongue sliding against yours with a kind of desperation that sent heat surging through your veins. He pressed you harder against the railing, his body pinning you in place, his hands mapping out every inch of skin he could reach, slow but deliberate, like he was savouring the way you reacted to him.

You gasped against his mouth, but he didn’t let up, didn’t give you room to think, to hesitate.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Shiu muttered, his voice rough as his lips trailed down your jaw, his teeth scraping against your pulse before he kissed the spot to soothe it.

His hands slid lower, fingers pressing into your hips before he gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the railing effortlessly, his body wedged between your legs before you could even process what was happening.

The way he looked at you—his pupils blown, his breathing heavy—sent a thrill through you, and you swallowed hard, your hands finding his shoulders, clinging to him as heat curled low in your stomach. You barely had time to process the way Shiu was looking at you before his hands were on you again, sliding beneath your shirt, rough fingers dragging over your heated skin like he wanted to memorise every inch of you. His touch was firm, claiming, his nails scraping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“This in my way?” He muttered against your lips, tugging at the fabric, and before you could even think about answering, he was already pushing it up, his fingers grazing the underside of your bra, slow and deliberate.

You groaned. “My parents could arrive at any time.”

Shiu grunted. “That would be a real shame, sweetheart.” His warm fingers slid to your back, pinching at your bra’s clasps until they fell free.

His calloused fingers grabbed the fabric and pulled, until you stood there panting under his gaze, bare chest rising and falling.

Shiu audibly groaned, unable to stop his hand from beelining to your breasts, fingers tugging at your taut nipples before pushing back on the flesh, moulding it in his hands.

“So pretty.” He whispered, pulling at your nipple until you whimpered in pain before letting go, watching your skin ripple.

With haste, his head craned and your right nipple was between his wet lips, that sucked until they were swollen. You moaned his name, clamping your thighs shut as you felt your wetness grow. “F-Fuck, Shiu. Don’t want to waste time.” You gasped, feeling your knees buckle at his touch.

“I hear you.” He grumbled, letting his teeth graze your nipple before he freed it. His rough hands went to your hips and spun you right around until you were leaning over the balcony rail, half exposed to the bustling streets below.

His hands ran up your hips until they met the waistband of your shorts, fingers hooking inside. Shiu leant forward until his breath was on your ear.

“You could tell me to stop,” he murmured, sliding your shorts down your thighs, panties dragging along. “You should.”

You winced when the cold air nipped at your exposed cunt, thighs flexing. You moaned out when his thumb came up to rub your clit, swirling around the nub.

“Go on, tell me.”

“Don’t want to.” You answered, letting your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch.

Shiu hummed, moving back to behind you. His clothed erection, covered by his work pants, angled right between your ass cheeks. “Don’t want to.” He echoed, undoing his belt and letting his pants fall free. He snickered, trudging his boxers down until his cock sprung free.

You clenched around nothing as you felt his tip nudge your hole, hooking on it. You crooked your head to look at him out your peripherals. “Please, Shiu? I don’t think I can wait.” You whined.

Shiu clicked his tongue. “Patience is virtue, sweetheart.” He grumbled, using a thumb to press on his cock before he slid himself in, feeding your cunt his cock.

You gritted your teeth as pain bloomed between your legs where he stretched you open.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Pussy squeezing me in, think I can’t ever leave.” Shiu took a moment to admire his cock stuffed inside you, the night air, and the bright lights of the city.

Then, there was a low whistle that came from somewhere to your left. “Well. Well. Look at what the cat dragged in,” Toji said, chuckling under his breath. “And I really thought I’d be the first to fuck that cunt. Fuck ya, Kong.”

Shiu scoffed a laugh. “Don’t act bitter because you’re slow. Though you must know, you’re really missing out.”

Toji took a step forward, standing on his balcony, sporting an aching hard on. “Well don’t be greedy. How she feel?”

Shiu smirked. “Soul destroying, Zenin. She’ll ruin any other pussy for you.”

Toji groaned at the thought. “Hear that, girly? Kong says ya got the best fuckin’ pussy. Really are perfect.”

You sniggered. “I think Shiu’s only saying th—ah!” You gasped as Shiu drew his hips back and thrusted into you, sending your thoughts spiralling.

“Don’t talk bad about my pussy, sweetheart.” Shiu told you, planting his feet before his hips moved back then slammed back into you.

You couldn’t say anything back, your hips digging in the metal railing, tits bouncing with Shiu’s thrusts. “Oh my god!”

Wet squelches echoed in the night. Your cunt squeezed Shiu’s cock as he fucked you, your feet sliding on the tiles below you.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Think I’m gonna ruin you before Zenin gets a turn. What do you say?” Shiu’s words came out rushed, and breathy.

“Please, please, please!” You whined, drool dribbling past your lips and dripping down. Unfortunate to wherever it landed.

“That’s fucking right.”

“Come on. Ya really gonna do that to an old man like me? Y’wound me, angel.” Toji said, though you could hear the smile on his voice.

Toji groaned out, earning a sideways glance from Shiu. “Tch, you fucking your fist, Zenin?”

“Yeah. Next best thing.” You could hear wet, popping sounds come from Toji’s direction.

You tilted your head to see, and moaned at the sigh of your neighbour, hand wrapped around his cock as his dark eyes were trained solely on you. Your cunt clenched at that, not going unnoticed by Shiu.

“Aw, sweetheart. Is the sight of a sore loser beating his meat getting you off?” He chuckled, rolling his forward, causing you to moan.

“Ah! Fuck! Shiu I’m close!”

“Already? My cock’s that good, huh?”

“Arrogant prick.” Toji grumbled, throwing his head back while he fisted his cock, hips jerking.

Your body almost went in complete spasm when Shiu’s fingers found your clit and rubbed away at it. “Can’t hold o-on! Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! Shiu!” You screamed, orgasm ripping from you and splashing onto your thighs.

“Fuck. You on a pill?” Shiu asked.

“N-No.” You choked, orgasm still rippling in you.

“What a shame.” Shiu groaned, hips stilling before he pulled right out, before his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking the slicked shaft until his cum was coating your exposed ass.

The way Toji groaned, you assumed he to,came, before he slumped onto one of his balcony chairs.

Shiu huffed, before pulling his pants back up, then pulled your shorts up, his cum dampening the fabric. “I’ll run you a bath, sweetheart. Then I’ll go sit on the couch, your parents should be home soon.” Shiu told you, pressing a kiss to your temple, hands gently dragging you away.

“Hey, doll?” Toji called. “Expect a visit tomorrow.”

Your cunt, albeit tired and achy, fluttered. You just gave him a weak nod before you disappeared inside.

n e ways. part 2 aka toji’s version will be out. one day (I haven’t even started writing)

[anantaru]

synopsis. boothill just needs to praise you <3

cw. praise kink, big dick boothill, petnames used: baby, princess, fem! reader ᰔ

mindlessly, you drag your head back and forth the pillows and quirk your lips into a pleasured smirk as your pussy clamps around boothill's cock, your walls searing and on fire the faster he drags his shaft against it.

"’love it so so much," you cry out right after his name, not prepared for the broken grunt he lets out in return. boothill doesn't believe it's actually possible to explain how boundless his desire flowed for you as you're both locked inside a deep pleasure, your boyfriend still somehow finding the energy to pound his hips faster against your cunt.

"you were just made to take it, take me, weren't you? hmm," he grunts, his cock spearing into your dripping, achy cunt as your hips begin to move on their own, grinding upwards and gyrating the best they can as he grabs onto your body to keep himself deeper.

"y-yes, baby, yes," there was nothing to discern other than pleasure in your answer, it makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, the shiver shaking your body awake only aiding the feeling.

"touch me more, please," you whine, blissful tears dribbling down the corners of your eyes and staining across your cheeks and ah— boothill was always so sweet to you, never averting his gaze so he would never miss the dazed expressions on your face.

sparks pop off the slopes of your body, the synapses in your brain snapping as you shiver each time your pussy squelches when you take him— the moment so sweet, and both of your frames glow of sweat and perspiration as boothill drags his lips across your own, at the same time stilling his thick shaft inside your cunt, not moving anymore.

"i've got to hand it to you, princess," he lulls, although his words were clouded in ecstasy, imbedded with pleasure due to just how hard you were clamping down on him, "I, i— love you— no, i ugh’ worship you baby," as he whispers, a puff of shyness crossing your glossed lips.

nothing could ever prepare you to boothill telling you this, making sure you hear him say it over and over before he resorts back to fuck you mindlessly, until your eyes spark with galaxies and your body unfolds inside the final blow.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[angelqueef]

forbidden fruit | simon riley

simon comes over to try out a new strain with you. he knows you more than you think and finds out you’ve broken the rules. he gets you 4 bowls deep, you confess, punishment ensues

a/n: mdni | my first smut…i wasn’t sure who i was gon write this for originally but i could only imagine simon as i kept writing…i hc that after retirement he starts smoking to help with his chronic pain and ptsd. this is kinda long so

cw: afab reader, age gap (40s, 20s), daddy kink (daddy, sir, papa/pa, good girl mentioned), older!stoner!simon riley x insatiable!stoner!reader, d/s themes, subspace, spanking, masochism, simon is lowkey ooc but it’s okay he’s high, intox if you squint, simon and reader being freak nasty and desperate, semi proofread

˚ ✦　.　. ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ *. ★ .˚ . . . ✦ ˚ .　

you’re curled up and laying in simon’s arms, so high you barely know where you are. all you know is that his skin is warm against you, music is blaring in your ears, and you feel good. so good, you start grinding your hips subconsciously, body pulsing, semi-to the beat of the music, semi-not. he looks down at your hips in a trance. you always get like this after you take milky rips from the pink bong he gifted you (now decorated with gems and stickers), your synapses are firing, stuck in a loop of euphoria.

he hums a soft and knowing laugh, a rough palm patting the fat of your ass.

“you’re humpin’, baby.”

you snap out of your daze and look up at him with glazed, red doe eyes, “huh?”

he shifts his heavy gaze from your hips and meets yours, looking pleased. proud, even. like he created you. “hm. nothin’. c’mere,” he lifts your chin with his thumb, swiftly working the pad up to your bottom lip. you subconsciously open your mouth and he bullies it inside, rubbing circles on your tongue. you mewl around him and he grins. he grins so cockily, so aware of his effect on you, and dives to your neck, kissing and suckling.

(he’s like this when he’s high. smug, boyish, sly. it makes you wonder what he was like as a young man, if he didn’t live the life he ended up living.)

“si’,” you moan, picking up your humping again.

“sweet girl, so horny f’me. let me see how wet you are.”

you nod, pulling his thumb out of your mouth with a pop, “please, n-need it,” before you finish your sentence, and before you remember you had tossed your underwear to the side just prior, he’s already yanking your shorts down.

he hesitates.

“no panties?”

you meet his eyes again, they’re piercing now. the deep amber that you sank into before quickly heats—pooling and bubbling around you. you swallow, “‘m sorry, was hot…”

simon grips your hips. it doesn’t hurt, but it’s heavy—pressured. he inches his face close to yours. “you didn’t touch yourself without permission, did you, baby?” he asks, breath sweet from weed and mint, tone stern but not punishing (yet). you feel like you were dragged to an interrogation room. the light is on you now.

you swallow again, harder. you’re still. a deer locking eyes with a wolf. it’s as if you’re hiding in plain sight, like you could disappear if you tried hard enough. simon is aware of this habit of yours, the way you shut down during confrontation. he’s wormed and creeped his way through most of you so far, broken down your walls, but this is still something you still struggle with. he tilts his head down, kissing feather light up your jaw, darting his tongue out just at the base of your ear. “answer me, luv,” he coos slowly, his warm breath fanning against your ear. you shiver.

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you really tried to wait for simon. you did. but he called and said he was going to be 30 minutes late because of traffic. you promised you’d be his good girl and wait— “don’t be impatient,” he warned. but how could you not be dripping when his gruff voice cuddled your ear so warmly over the phone? you paced around your room, trying to distract yourself from the ache in between your legs while you waited. you were mid ovulation, at its peak! it’s not your fault!

suddenly you found yourself cuddled in your cloud soft bed he’d built for you. sheets and blankets surrounding your body, you were warm. you felt ravenous, needy. you tried to get some friction to your clit from grinding against your underwear, tried to feel good without touching, but it was uncomfortable, everything felt heavy and hot. you gave up and stripped, the wetness in between your legs cooling from being exposed. you whined softly, you couldn’t help but touch it. you rubbed, writhing. you were nearly there, thinking about simon pumping into you instead of your fingers. you kept working, moaning, climbing, you were gonna—

your phone buzzed.

simon: I’m outside angel.

simon: I got some good stuff I think you’ll like

fuck. you’re frustrated. you didn’t get to cum and you were naked, sweating from moving around so much. you shot up and hopped around your room, throwing on a tight cami (his favorite on you) and some tiny plaid shorts found on your floor. you pranced to the front door, flustered. you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t find out.

but, oh, he found out. he knew when he took in your delicate form at the threshold, your chest heaving, cleavage dewy. your lips were plump and glossless from all your biting. you stuttered when you doted over him, your giggles breathless. he almost wanted to laugh at your sorry attempt to seem normal—but he couldn’t confront you then. it’d be too much for you. so he waited, waited until you were soft and pliable in his arms.

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you realize his hand is already down in between your legs, finger tips just grazing your puffy and sensitive cunt, unfreezing you. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” your confess. your voice breaks, “i’m ovulatin’, you were late, couldn’t help it,”

there it is. “you making excuses, baby? and blaming me? why’re you bein’ bad? you shoulda told me you were ovulating. woulda been over here sooner to take care of you,” he finds your clit and rubs tiny circles, occasionally pressing down on the swollen bud. “couldn’t even make yourself cum. i can tell.”

“pa,” your breath hitches, you arch into his touch, aching. “‘m not being bad.”

he moves his hand from between your legs and slaps your ass, “you disobeyed me. you couldn’t just use your words and be honest. and now you’re talkin’ back? n’ you don’t think you’re bein’ bad?”

he moves his hand back to your pussy, rubbing harder. he adds more fingers. you whine apologies again and again, saying how bad you needed him, burying your pouted face into his neck, trying to wrap your arms around him. trying to be cute, get back in his good graces.

“oh, no you don’t,” he sees your tactic, lifting you off him with an ease that shocks you every time. “on your hands and knees.”

you obey him as quickly as you could despite your state. he follows you, knees sinking in the mattress, holding his hard-on over top his boxers. he sighs, eyeing your arched figure, “fuck, look at you,” precum dribbles out of his heavy cock, wetting the fabric of his underwear. he bucks against you, in a daze of his own how. his thumb teases the rim of your asshole. you looked back him, lips glistened from his spit and your own. “so ready for me, huh angel?”

“wanna show you i’m sorry, sir,”

“there she is,” he huffs and strikes your ass, the slap echoing. lightning hot. it was electrifying. heat pools and you ache more.

he spanks again and again, never decreasing in fervor. you’re teary eyed from the sting. the punishment doesn’t blow your high, though. it makes it more intense—the pain and pleasure mixing with the feeling of being at his mercy almost makes you cum right there. after what seems like an eternity, he makes it to twenty. you barely notice it’s over until he leans down and leaves wet, soothing kisses on each cheek, “sorry angel, you know i had to. gotta teach you.”

he mouths up your spine and to your nape. he leans over top of you, his large, muscular form overtaking yours. he stuffs two fingers in your mouth and licks your tears. “did so good f’me, tough girl. you know you can’t touch yourself without your daddy now? did i drill that into your pretty little head?”

you nod enthusiastically, sore backside pushing onto his boner. “i know now, i know, i’m sorry, you know i am pa. please, need you inside,”

“such a needy thing, beggin’ so nicely. calm down, i got you,” he whips off his boxers and weighs down on you, inching you into prone bone. he takes his now soggy fingers from your mouth and rubs his hand all over your face. you whine and lick his palm, salty from sweat and sweet from the taste of you. he brings his hand back and sucks his fingers into his mouth. lubing them, he lets out a low moan, the thought of both of your spit mixing making him harder. they slip in your cunt with ease, you’re sucking him in. his jaw is slack at the lewd view: drool and your wetness mingling, hole clenching around him. you sob as he works is way in and out, curving up into that special spot. you arch and whine and cry his name.

“‘m gonna, please, let me- gonna cu-“ he yanks his fingers out of you. you squeak and then you sob.

“not yet, angel. you gotta cum while i fuck you,”

he’s hovering you completely now, sweat dripping from his forehead to yours. he tilts his head down to nuzzle and kiss your neck, eating up your sweet perfume. he moves his cock inside you slowly, torturing you. “so tight..so warm,” he groans into your neck.

he finally fits inside you, rutting just slowly enough to edge you. and though he’s aching too, he focuses on your ache, controlling it, reveling in the power he has over you. you grind your clit against the sheets, his weight making the friction so much more intense. he pulls back, bottoms out, and slams into you again. in and out, rocking you, rough but secure. steady. you hump with him. “yeah, atta girl, rock w’me,” he says through moans, voice thick and gravelly.

his pumps in and out, trying different rhythms. “pa, y’so big,” you cry, “can feel you in my tummy.”

simon moans at this—a pitched up and pornographic moan. if he was sober he would’ve held it in, covered it with a growl, something. but when your whines sound like a song, your gummy and velvety walls swallow him whole, and your nipples are stiff under his hands, there’s nothing he can do to control himself like usual.

you feel it approaching, white heat building up in your lower belly. “‘m gonna cum,”

“me too. let it out, baby. c’mon,” he coos and pumps quicker, thrusts sloppy. you babble, moan, shriek— something between the three. heavy eyes roll back as you cream on him.

“good lord, fuck—,” his seed spills into you, warming you. filling you.

he plops down on your limp body, wiping sweat that beads on your temple. “y’did so amazin’ f’me, angel,” he kisses you like you’re glass now. “you’re gettin’ better at being my good girl. just need some direction.”

“mhm” you smile dumbly, eyes closed. “wanna be perfect f’you, daddy,”

“i know,” he tuts, “but you already are, luv.”

there’s no response. he lifts up from you and sees you’re already sleep. you whine quietly from the cold air tickling your damp back. he shushes you, “gimme a second.”

suddenly, he’s fluffing pillows and moving your stuffed animals, he’s focused, arranging a nest for you. he swoops your limp body up from the end of the bed and lays down, pulling you into him. you nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his now musky scent, lulling you to an even deeper sleep.

we’ll shower in the morning, is the last thing his fogged up mind thinks before he passes out under you, lips pressed against your hairline.

[sufrimientilia]

healing but with downsides

Caretaker with healing powers but every second of it is excruciating for Whumpee. Burning, convulsing, screaming, the repair of flesh coming with fire or electricity or the burst pop scatter of darkness from every synapse rupturing with over-stimulation

A resurrection spell that brings Whumpee back from death but it’s like dying in reverse, shaking and gasping and horrible, so wretched and miserable all over again

Bloodletting to save Whumpee from poison or infection. Toeing the line between bloodloss and dying from whatever toxin needs to be drained

Trying spell after spell to reverse a curse or hex. Whumpee so beaten and abused by magic their body just shuts down or violently rejects it all

Whumpee with the power/affinity/etc to heal fast but practically goes comatose in the meantime. Caretaker fretting as Whumpee sleeps and can’t be roused for hours or days at a time until their wounds seem to heal on their own

Whumpee with the power/affinity/etc to heal fast but it’s like they’re dying. Maybe Whumpee fights off wounds the same way they would the flu, their body getting so feverish and sickly every time they get hurt. Maybe the energy of healing drains Whumpee entirely, leaving them all sweaty and limp and lifeless

Whumpees with the power to heal immediately on the surface but feel the pain indefinitely

Whumpee who can heal so fast they're used for organ harvesting, cut open and ripped apart again and again and again

Herbal concoctions used to make powerful healing potions that taste putrid, forced down Whumpee’s throat as they choke and struggle, too out of it to really fight back

Concoctions that save Whumpee from fatal stab wounds but feel so bad. Poultices and salves that burn or ache, tinctures that make them so restless and disoriented they dream about such horrible things while Caretaker wipes sweat off their brow

Caretaker having to soothe and look after Whumpee as they give them dose after dose of something that makes them feel terrible. Maybe it’s the only thing keeping them alive, but Caretaker feels guilty all the while

Drugs that promote healing but have a whole slew of side effects. Anxiety, heart palpitations, overstimulation, allergic reactions, horrible withdrawals after Whumpee heals

Whumpee’s wounds getting better in every physical way but they just feel so much worse

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 5.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: This chapter is going to contain some very dark and graphic scenes. Please read carefully. I'm really happy that you guys are enjoying the story! The comments are feeding me and motivating me so much, I really do appreciate the support. Also, you can read it here on my archive account as well!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4

All through the night, Shuri had worked on dissecting the Winter Soldier's brain. When Bucky had swung by the lab in the morning, it seemed as though Shuri hadn't slept at all. Her space buns were now down, the freely-hanging braids swinging wildly as she walked around the cryostasis pod with quick paces.

Her brows were furrowed with annoyance, the princess cursing to herself in Xhosa as Okoye stood by, raising a brow at the profanities Shuri was listing off. Bucky was concerned, greeting her with a tilt of his head and holding out a cup of coffee for her.

"Good morning. Did you get any sleep at all?"

"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I admittedly lost track of time, but the programming is proving to be difficult. Every time I seem to get past the encryption, another layer pops up and tries to activate her. However, since she's in cryostasis, the activation is failing."

Bucky nodded, humming thoughtfully as he stared at the woman within the pod.

"Seems like they updated their programming to avoid another...well, me."

Shuri nodded, huffing as she glanced back at him.

"Exactly. I knew that she was going to be complex, but I didn't think to realize that they would install safeguards in such a way. I can do it, it's just frustrating."

Okoye hummed, quirking her brow slightly before snorting in amusement when Shuri glared back at her.

"She has been yelling profanities for the last two hours."

Shuri waved her off, not even gracing Okoye with a response. Instead, she gestured Bucky over, expanding the hologram of the woman's mind. Throughout her mind, Bucky could see pulses of...something...happening, and he glanced at Shuri when the woman asked.

"What do you see?"

"Um, it looks like there's a lightning storm flashing through her mind."

Shuri smiled, nodding.

"Precisely. The synapses of her brain are firing rapidly despite her being in cryostasis. Do you understand what this means?"

Bucky was quiet, shrugging slightly, and Shuri rolled her eyes before saying.

"She is dreaming, White Wolf."

Bucky was surprised, asking Shuri as she began to poke around the hologram, pulling up a couple sections.

"Wait, she is?"

"Yes, and with my technology, I've been able to see into these dreams."

Her expression became grim, eyes darting away from Bucky, and Bucky understood what her expression was saying. Whatever Shuri was able to see hadn't been pleasant in the slightest, which in a morbid way, Bucky wasn't even surprised. Almost wordlessly, she pulled up a particular image, explaining.

"I was only able to get glimpses and small portions of dreams due to HYDRA's programming kicking me out repeatedly, but from what I saw...it was truly horrific. The things that HYDRA did...the things it seems that she is remembering, or perhaps never forgot, are...they are horrific, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky frowned deeply as looked at the images that Shuri was showing him. Some were of a familiar cell wall, some were of blurred faces that were familiar yet unknown at the same time, and there was one that made his stomach churn.

Blood. There was so much blood covering her naked thighs and pooled beneath her. Shuri had taken the time to carefully blur the soldier's vagina from view, but Bucky didn't even need to see it to know what they had done.

You're a super soldier, they would say. You can take it.

Bucky bit his tongue while his back stiffened considerably, and Shuri brought up a clip that began to play automatically. It seemed to be of a previous killing, the man on the ground looking up at the soldier fearfully as a bloody hand came into view.

He seemed to be begging, crying hard as the body of a child whose head was crushed and gushing with blood and destroyed brain matter laid within his lap. The soldier was holding a gun, and when the gun was fired, the clip ended.

"Were you able to do this with me as well?"

Bucky's tone was quiet, his words almost a whisper as he looked away from the clip, his breathing starting to accelerate slightly as Shuri swiped the clip away quickly.

"Definitely, but not to this extent. However, our work together helped to shape my technology into this."

Shuri gestured to the hologram with her hand before she glanced back at Bucky, pursing her lips as she grabbed another image and maximized it, showing the image of a blurry paper-crochet butterfly and small hands that were in the process of decorating the art project.

"There are a few memories that I was able to get to, though they are slightly miniscule; almost useless to us in figuring out who she is."

Another video came up, a short 10 second clip that showed the soldier in what looked to be a graduation or awards ceremony. There was an elderly-looking hand that was lifting a medal before pinning it to her chest, and Bucky's eyes widened.

"Wait a minute...that looks familiar. Can you clear up the image a bit?"

Shuri looked smug before winking as the image cleared, showing a medal that had an inscription engraved onto it. Bucky shook his head in surprise, saying as he uncrossed his arms in surprise.

"No wonder she's a ghost. She worked for the CIA."

The medal that the soldier had been given was for Career Intelligence, a reward that came from exceptional achievements and, if Bucky remembered right, the length of service. Shuri hummed, stating as she crossed her arms and glanced at the woman.

"Not all ghosts are completely untraceable. If I can get deeper into her mind and get more parts of her memories unlocked, I can attempt to figure out who she is a lot easier and faster."

Shuri then shook her head, huffing with frustration.

"The risk that comes with doing so, however, is that once she awakens and her mind is able to be more active, these memories have a chance of coming to her all at once. It will be an overwhelming and horrifying experience for her."

Bucky sighed heavily. If that happened, there was a risk that it could reactivate HYDRA's programming and she would become an active threat, and nobody wanted that.

Hell, his temple was still throbbing.

Bucky then glanced over at Shuri again when Shuri pointed to a hologram of a document with the CIA's official seal, maximizing the image and swiping a few of the scanned documents away.

"Because we know our soldier was a part of the CIA, I scanned through their database to see if I could find anything akin to the Winter Soldier program. While the CIA is involved in a super soldier project, I haven't found anything of use yet. And don't worry, I erased my tracks as soon as I made them."

Shuri smirked with a haughty glint within her eyes, and Bucky chuckled at her. He hummed after mulling through his thoughts for a moment.

"It's nice to know that we're getting closer to knowing who she is, but if you can't get past the firewalls of the algorithm...how would we reactivate her without wiping her?"

"I can put a temporary lock upon her most recent memories from the time she was awakened until now. That lock will slowly deteriorate over time, almost like a dissolvable suture, so it won't be permanent."

That was nice to know, at least. T'Challa's voice made Shuri and Bucky jump from the surprise, the two of them looking back at him as he walked inside of the lab.

"If our Isithunzi worked for the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier and was awarded for her work, then perhaps the next step would be to look at every single employee that was in service within the last 50 years that received recognition from the agency."

He was holding the black book within his hands, and T'Challa placed it down on a table beside one of the original Black Panther suits, the king regarding the two of them with a tired look. Shuri scoffed, waving him off before doing the Wakandan salute.

"Please, you always think so lowly of me. When I discovered this particular memory, I downloaded as much information as I could without tripping the CIA's cyber security systems. There's at least 75 years worth of information here. If we filter out employees that hadn't specifically received a Career Intelligence reward, we lower the number to at least five to 10 years."

Bucky was impressed, and he joked gently.

"You ever thought of becoming a spy?"

T'Challa pursed his lips in annoyance when Shuri laughed loudly.

"Not in your life, White Wolf. I like being my own boss."

"Unless the king says no."

Shuri didn't even grace T'Challa with a response, making the man roll his eyes and shake his head. T'Challa regarded Bucky with a hard gaze, asking him.

"Have you gotten in touch with the Captain to see if Tony or Natasha have found anything as well?"

"Not yet. I was kind of waiting on them to get in touch with me."

T'Challa nodded, and he suggested.

'You should tell the Captain what you have found. I am sure that he is eager to know what we have uncovered."

Bucky nodded despite the cryptic feeling that was twinging T'Challa's words, and he walked out of the lab into a deserted hallway, a couple of the Dora Milaje standing guard. Awkwardly nodding to them in greeting as he walked down the hallway, Bucky slipped out the phone within his pocket and frowned.

Despite the fact that he'd had the thing for a while, Bucky still couldn't quite grasp the fact that touch-screen was a thing. Hell, the last time Bucky had ever used a phone before HYDRA, it was to call his little sister, Rebecca, before he went to Europe with the 107th.

He could still remember the number for the Shelbyville operator, the specific number for Rebecca's telephone, and how calls were logged and billed for at the end of the month. Now, it took just dialing a number directly. Bucky's mind was still having a bit of trouble wrapping around the idea of call operators not really being a thing anymore.

Shaking his head slightly, Bucky called Steve, a quiet part of his mind wondering if Steve had felt this way before as well. The meaningless thought was squandered when Steve answered, sounding a bit out of breath as he spoke.

"Hey, Buck. Any progress yet on the woman?"

Bucky hummed, leaning against the wall as he glanced in the direction of the lab, replying.

"We got a bit of good information. Shuri's technology was able to get through to some parts of the woman's brain and reveal some memories of her. Apparently, she was a part of the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier."

Steve made a noise of surprise, stating.

"That makes things a bit easier. Tony wasn't really able to find a lot, and Natasha hasn't even combed the surface of the databanks we acquired."

"She's a complete ghost, so I don't know if it'll help. There's something else, though..."

Bucky's voice trailed off for a moment, his surprise hitting him again before he informed Steve.

"...the woman's dreaming. Shuri had a live hologram of the woman's brain up, and she said that the synapses of her brain were firing in a way that was common with dreaming."

"Which means the woman might be remembering things...that's good, right?"

The image of the woman's bloodied legs came to Bucky's mind, and he tightened his grip on his phone, muttering.

"I don't...I don't know. Some of the images that Shuri was able to capture of the woman's dreams and memories...they weren't pleasant."

Steve was quiet for a moment, and he replied with a stern tone of voice.

"We'll get this figured out and we'll find out who she is. If not...then we can help her become a new person...a completely clean slate."

Bucky didn't comment on the way that Steve said 'we' and instead rubbed a hand over his face, muttering.

"The CIA seems to have a super soldier project, but it's not confirmed that the CIA had any volunteers that we know of...it's mainly rumors and ideas."

Bucky added as he watched T'Challa and Shuri leave down the opposite hall, their steps quick and purposeful.

"It's possible there were HYDRA agents within that stole information on the serum, or the serum itself, that the CIA was concocting and grabbed some random woman off of the side of the street. They, as well as HYDRA, have the ability to scrub a person completely off of the radar, and nobody is gonna be looking for a nobody."

Steve was firm, and Bucky knew the man had to be shaking his head at him as Steve slightly scolded him.

"That's not true. There's always going to be someone...we just don't know if that someone is alive or dead. According to that book we found, she's been an active soldier for HYDRA since 1985, and who knows how long she was there before she was created. 30 years is a long time."

"Yeah? Try 70."

Steve was quiet, and Bucky apologized quietly, revealing gently.

"Sorry...I'm sorry...it's just...it's a lot."

Steve's voice was gentle with patience, making Bucky furrow his brows as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know, Bucky, but I'm with you till the end of the line. You know you can call me at any time and talk to me."

"I know. I'm with you till the end of the line, too, pal."

Steve then groaned gently when the sound of an explosion went through the phone, and he was quick to inform Bucky.

"Hey, I gotta go. Queens just crashed in. Literally. Call me if you get any updates, and I'll call you if I get one first."

Before Bucky could respond, the line went dead, and Bucky shook his head and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Walking back into the lab, Bucky came to stand in front of the cryostasis pod.

Hands within his pockets, he stared at the woman, gazing at the scars that covered her lower jaw and neck, and he watched as the live feed of her brain began to become active again.

An alert showed up along with a video, and Bucky was astounded to realize that it was a live feed of the dream the woman was currently having. It was a bit jarring to watch, bits and pieces becoming jumbled and blurry, and then it began to become clear.

The woman was standing before a man that Bucky knew very well, his face crystal clear to him and sparking rage deep within his chest. Bucky watched as Rollins spoke to her, and though there was no audio to be able to hear what he was saying, Bucky knew it wasn't pleasant.

Rollins seemed angry, walking back and forth in front of her before striking her down with a baton, the view shifting to the floor as the soldier fell and blood splattered onto the ground as if the woman had coughed.

From there, it only got worse, and Bucky had to turn away the second the soldier began to unbuckle the man's belt with bloodied hands, his anger becoming too much. Anger, regret, recognition, it was too much for Bucky to handle.

He could feel his chest restricting, could feel the oxygen becoming harder to breathe, and a tingling sensation began to grow within his toes and fingers.

Flashes began to appear within his own mind, images of the Enforcer's hosing his naked body with ice-cold water before they began to touch him; reaching for places he didn't want to be touched.

He could feel their teeth in his flesh, could hear the echoes of their taunts as they laughed menacingly, and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as he began to tremble and feel disgusted by his own body. A voice within his head began to speak to him gently; familiar and comforting as it guided him.

Breathe, Bucky.

In and out. Slowly. You are not their tool anymore. They can't hurt you. You're free.

Bucky repeated the words in his head over and over, as many times as he could.

I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I am James Buchanan Barnes. I am Bucky.

Swallowing thickly, it took a little while for his heartrate to settle, and he stood upright, rubbing his chest slightly. Closing his eyes, Bucky could feel the tears starting to well up within his eyes, and he took a few more deep breaths.

Turning back to the screen, he was thankful that the image was gone. Instead, the woman seemed to be dreaming of a wooded area, the point-of-view looking down at a plaque that was placed within stone In the peripheral vision, there was a little kid's hand that was grabbing at one of the flowers that was surrounding the plaque.

It was so peculiar to Bucky to the point that he was completely jarred out of his panic. Squinting, he began to realize that this plaque was familiar, especially when the name on the plaque became clear.

Meltzer Woods.

He knew that name and place. In fact, Bucky could recall the trails like the back of his hand, could still smell the wildflowers, and if Bucky really thought hard enough, he could still hear the way his mother scolded him as Rebecca became upset by Bucky teasing her.

"Come, now, James. Leave your little sister alone."

He could still remember the way Rebecca had squealed, though time had taken away what exactly she had panicked over. He recalled that his mother had placed her hands on her hips, giving him a stern gaze when Bucky had talked back to her; exasperated as Rebecca began to cry.

"But Ma, we're in the woods! Of course there's going to be bugs!"

"Now, don't you give me that lip. You don't want your father to hear, do you?"

The memory slowly faded, but Bucky was too floored to care.

What had the soldier been doing in Shelbyville, Indiana? Did she know the place like he did? Was this from a time before she had been with HYDRA?

"You look as though you have seen a ghost!"

Shuri was back, giving him an odd look as Bucky stared at the woman in the cryostasis pod, and all Bucky could respond with was-

"I think I did."

-

STORY NOTES: Shuri has been working endlessly to get past HYDRA's programming. She is verbally and visibly frustrated, which Bucky becomes concerned about as he greets her. Shuri reveals that she had lost track of time because of HYDRA's programming continuously throwing up more firewalls that try to activate the soldier every time she managed to break through another.

Bucky comments that HYDRA seems to have updated their algorithms since his departure. Shuri then shows Bucky a live feed of the digital rendition of the soldier's brain, telling Bucky to list off what he observes. Bucky observes that the activity within the brain looks like a lightning storm, which Shuri agrees and elaborates.

It is revealed that the soldier is currently dreaming despite being in cryostasis, and Shuri reveals that she has developed a technology that allows her to be able to show what a person is dreaming about. Using this technology on the soldier, however, reveals the gruesome treatment HYDRA inflicted and the brutality of the Winter Soldier.

Shuri's technology is able to access and project dreams in the same way, and she shows Bucky a memory the soldier had about receiving a medal. Bucky recognizes the medal, and it's revealed that the Winter Soldier had been involved with the CIA at some point on a professional level.

T'Challa makes a recommendation to Bucky to get in touch with Steve, and Bucky agrees. He reflects on the advancements of communications technology and how he had to speak to an operator to call his sister when he was still int he ARMY. Bucky then tells Steve about what Shuri had found, and he also reveals that the woman is dreaming.

After his phone call, Bucky goes back to the lab and is angry when he is shown a memory that the soldier is currently remembering of her Handler, which Bucky recognizes as Jack Rollins. Bucky begins to experience a PTSD episode where he begins to remember when Enforcers sexually assaulted him during a hose-down.

Once he calms down, Bucky recognizes a place that the soldier is now dreaming of: Meltzer Woods. He recalls a memory of him, his parents, and his little sister going to the trails all of the time since Meltzer Woods is located in his hometown of Shelbyville, Indiana, and when Shuri comes in and comments about how Bucky looks as though he's seen a 'ghost', he comments that he might have. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Isithunzi - Xhosa for [the] shadow/shade

TAGLIST: @mgchaser @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @aash3

[9w1ft]

👁️👄👁️

12 years ago today Taylor sat front row with Ana Wintour at the Rodarte show that Karlie walked. The same week she did her famous Vogue interview mentioning Karlie.

Fun Fact: if you look at the clip of Karlie walking with the actual music from the show and not those annoying fashion edits, you'll hear Morrissey's Everyday is like a Sunday playing. I'll let you piece it together.

WHAT

HOW

[lirotation]

Astarion in Cyberpunk AU

POV: How you met him in Night City =P

You’re just another low-tier merc in Night City's meat grinder, same as any other. Sure, you smoke, you chug whatever synthalcohol gets your synapses sparking, maybe pop a little Black Lace now and then for kicks. But one thing you don’t do? Pick up joytoys from Jig-Jig. Nah, choom. Not your scene.

Until tonight's clusterfuck.

You were on a gig, dressed to fool the corpo crowd—chrome hidden under slick, expensive synth-leather. Playing at being one of Night City's untouchables. Then your optics lock onto him.

A joytoy, but not just any joytoy. Lux-grade. The kind of beauty that made your targeting systems glitch and your tits perk up. Picking him up wasn’t the plan—never the plan—but here you are, trying to blend in, figuring if all these suits are doing it, maybe you should too.

Preem bastard had a silver tongue worth more than his chrome, smooth like pre-War whiskey. He leaned in close, casually dropped the very intel you need - an exclusive corpo mixer, one hosting Kong Tao mid-level procurement officer - your target - fresh from Guangzhou. The two of you hit it off, chatting over overpriced drinks at the bar, and one thing led to another. His place.

Then you wake up.

Your choom on the other end of the link, screaming. Your brain feels like it’s been through a shredder. You’re sprawled out on some piss-stained mattress, butt naked, weapons gone.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You’ve been played. Conned. During a job, no less. Just your fucking luck.

Gotta escape before they rip you open, gotta figure out where the hell you are. But one thing’s for sure—you’re gonna find that pretty bastard, and when you do, he’s got a world of hurt coming his way. _______

Your head’s pounding, but you’ve been in tighter spots before. You force a reboot, running a quick scan. Typical corpo blacksite flophouse—The stink of blood, sweat, and bad decisions clings to the walls.

You find a rusted shard of metal and grip it tight. Better than nothing. You rigged the lock and slipped out of the room, the sound of your bare feet drowned out by the buzz of cheap fluorescents overhead.

The hall’s empty. Nobody watching the cams—amateurs. You find a storage room with your gear dumped in a corner like garbage. Your Militech pistol? Check. punknife? Check. Even your boots. Slipping them on feels like hugging an old friend.

Now clothed and armed, you should be bailing, cutting your losses. But the faint sound of muffled screams crawls under your skin, pulling you back into the fray.

You creep closer, the door half-open. Inside, him.

The joytoy. Astarion.

Strapped down like a Maelstrom test subject, neural wires spiderwebbing from his temples into some black-market brain-dance rig. The machine's whining like a dying cat, each pulse making him scream. Some chrome-headed ganger's working the controls, grinning like he's watching prime-time BD entertainment.

“Picked yourself a zero, didn't ya? No creds, no dirt—just a fucking merc with nothin’ to give. You are lucky boss is not in town.” the ganger sneers, twisting a dial, “What good’s a pretty face if it doesn’t deliver?”

Astarion convulses, tears streaking his otherwise flawless face, “I—tried,” he whispers.  "Please, give me another chance.”

Something snaps in your gut. You’ve seen people broken, but this guy? He’s built to endure. Still, this is next-level fucked.

Your blade whispers through the air, clean and silent. The ganger drops, and you catch the falling remote and cut the power to the rig.

Astarion slumps, breathing shallow. You free him, pulling the wires from his skin. He flinches but doesn’t resist.

“Can you walk?” you ask, dragging him to his feet.

He groans but nods. “I’ve had worse.”

The two of you fight your way out, bullets and curses flying. By the time you hit the street, you’re out of breath and out of ammo, but alive. Barely.

You lean against a wall, wiping blood off your hands. “I should fucking gut you for this,” you say, leveling him with a glare.

Astarion chuckles, though it’s more pained than amused. “I’m flattered. But I was under orders, if that softens the blow.”

“Doesn’t,” you snap.

Still, you don’t hurt him. Just turn to leave, figuring he’ll disappear back into whatever pit he crawled out of. But when you glance back, he’s trailing behind you.

“What are you doing?” you snap again, tired and still on edge.

“I have nowhere else to go,” he says softly, eyes downcast, his voice a quiet plea.

“Not my problem,” you grumble, turning to keep walking.

“Wait,” he calls out, stepping closer. When you face him again, the vulnerability in his posture is tinged with a familiar, deliberate charm. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smile. “I could… make it up to you.  I’m quite skilled at certain things”

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That so? You think I’m just gonna take you in because you bat your lashes?”

“Not just because of that,” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to catch the faint light. “I can be useful. I wasn't lying before, you know? the mixer? I can get you in.”

You pause, damn it he is beautiful. He shifts closer, his voice dipping into something silkier. “Let me stay, just for a while. I’ll keep out of your way. Or,” he adds, his smile sharpening ever so slightly, “if you’d rather, I could be very in your way. Whatever you prefer.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Fine. One screw-up, though, and you’re out. Got it?”

“Crystal clear,” he purrs, bowing his head slightly. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”

As he falls into step beside you, you mutter under your breath. “Already regretting it.”

His soft chuckle is barely audible, but it lingers all the way home.

[styluswritesdc]

It'd be a little funny if the rogues S/O saved them with a metal chair. One of those foldable ones

It seems like they lost, Batman hovering over the rogue, ready to take them to Arkham until BANG

Batman falls down

Behind him stands S/O, metal chair still in hand, suggesting that maybe they should escape now

Like c'mon Batman is never living that down. Especially if S/O isn't a rogue. Like he just got knocked out by a rando civilian who just so happens to kiss up on a rogue

Omg this is brilliant. Bruce is fucking scarlet. like how embarrassing. Dick isn't ever going to shut up about this now time for the rogues reactions!

Riddler/Edward Nygma

oh my god. that was so hot babe you don't even know.

genuinely will take a minute to commit this to his photographic memory. my god.

once you yell at him to get the fuck up and start running, he's by your side hand behind your back escorting you out.

he will also never forget this. both you and also the batman. this will be a jab he makes to the bat frequently.

"riddle me this batman, what has four legs, no heartbeat, and is the batman's kryptonite?" such a dick.

Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane

oh you brilliantly smart mouse.

he's already hopping up, spraying the bat in the face and then hroo hraa-ing outta there.

you're going to be showered with compliments. especially since you definitely saved his burlap. this man cannot go against batman in a 1v1. he's made of bones and straw. the wind can knock him over.

briefly ponders the possibility of batman having a fear of chairs after this. maybe by being sprayed after the attack has developed a new synapse?

TwoFace/Harvey Dent

hummanah hummanah. they've fallen for you all over again.

"what a woman/hunk"

their eyes genuinely pop out of their head.

they flip a coin and flee with you in tow. don't be surprised if they throw you over their shoulder as they do.

will be talking about that for ages. tells Penguin, Riddler -anyone who will listen really.

Their men will give you a nod of approval when they hear about it.

harv is ecstatic about this. his first reaction was that it was hot, whereas Harvey was the more concerned party.

Bane

oh my god.. you've certainly picked up on things form the ring.

thinks its hot also.

would never expected that from you! but I suppose watching batman reach for his tank was the limit for your gentle disposition.

he's relived he gave you that defence training now.

he's slightly more relaxed about your safety now he knows you can handle yourself.

but not completely obviously.

Black mask/Roman Sionis

HOT HOT HOT x10. its like the word is flashing in his brain with an alarm sound.

"doll that was the sexiest thing anyone has done ever"

you will be whisked away by him into his car and will gush over you in the backseat (okay that sounds wrong.. >:) )

you will be treated to a wonderful dinner and showered in gifts! somehow more than usual.

he's also telling everyone. he's gonna goad Red Hood with the fact his dad got whacked so easily by a fucking normal person?? like no prior training.. how embarrassing.