#What is flutter software

[luetta]

i saw someone joke about robot girls as an example of kinks that are just impossible to ever be made reality, like they're completely in the land of fiction. but ... that is just not true!

you can set the mood in your room. turn off the lights but put on some little coloured purple and blue blinkers. sit her down on the edge of your bed and sit down behind her. let her eyes flutter closed since there's no reason to keep them upon in this dark, safe room. softly coo into her ears, she's been such a good robot day! doing so many tasks so efficiently! making everyone around her so happy. but, silly her, she overdid it. so you're just going to have to do a tiny bit of repair work. "will that be okay, dear?" of course it will be. she trusts you completely. you're her admin. you created her. of course she has a safeguard preventing just anyone from powering her down, but she lets you override that with no resistance. such a good girl.

press your finger into the back of her neck, and then drag it down her spine. as she powers down, glide her limp body softly onto the bed. put her feet up so she's lying down completely now. maybe hold her limbs up a bit and let them drop. yep, she's powered down now. she's not unconscious, just mental faculties are capped at 10% and body autonomy is disabled. all you have to do now is find where she's sustained some damage. trace your fingers all along her chassis, poking in with a "screwdriver" to take her outer layer off and examine the wires and joints. hmmm... oil is a bit thin. these wires are too close together, could cause sparking and overheating. goodness, your fan is dusty. you've been working so hard, haven't you? gently turn her over onto her stomach now. it's time to investigate her processing unit, her software.

make sure her arms aren't stuck underneath her. once she's all comfy, you can unscrew her entire back panel. make sure to trace your fingers all around her back and spine as you do, robot girls love that shit. the soft human touch is heavenly to a machine of metal and electricity. and such a well designed chassis too, so beautiful. but off it comes, what's underneath is even prettier! oh, even now, it's still hot to the touch. you've been thinking so much today ... you don't need to think anymore though. just let me explore you. read out her event log for the day. algorithmic neural plasticity score. joint lubricant levels. corrupted data percentage. things like that. they're like scores to her. praise her if she's gotten good ones, tease her if she's gotten bad ones.

i could write so much more and maybe i will...like roleplaying injecting a virus into her neck or chest, and feeling the code flow all down her body...your cock can even be the usb!

also, at some point lay your whole body weight onto them - arms over her arms and legs over her legs. to calibrate pressure sensors or something. bc lets face it if she's a robot girl then she is 100% a neurodivergent cutie who'd love that sm <3

[buckyalpine]

Okaaay! How can you write perfect imagines like that ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Now I cant help to send you another idea and I'M NOT SORRY!

Another Bucky one, where you’re kinda their technician and support the Avengers out of the IT section of the compound when they are on the field. But Bucky also thinks you should learn how to self-defense yourself just in case, but you always refuse. One time you finally give in and he starts training private with you, which one time leads you falling and landing on top of him. instead of getting up, he pulls you closer and kisses you and even carries you to his room to make sweet love. Afterwards he’s a huge cuddler and you both confess your feelings ? I LOVE YOU 😊

I LOVE YOU I LOVE THIS I LOVE IT ALL, give me some sweet, soft Bucky loving his shy girl. (also bb, idek if you remember sending me this considering how long I've taken, IM SO SORRY, I hope I did this justice). Ugh, I love this type of smut, lowkey a weakness.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, setting down your headset after navigating the team through the building they had to break into, infiltrating the security system from your place in the Avengers tower. You guided them down the halls, alerting them of any potential hazards that were to be expected, carefully watching four different screens at once so you had eyes on all of them.

"Couldn't do this without ya short cake, see you soon" Tony's voice crackled through the coms, making you giggle before signing out. You loved your job with the Avengers, helping them on the field through the latest Stark technology, safe in your IT lab. You never had to worry about skills or getting injured because you didn't have to go out onto the field, at most, having to worry about the wifi ever slowing down at the wrong time (though there were plenty of back up softwares in place).

The familiar sounds of boots softly thudding down the hall made your heart flutter, peeking up from your place behind the computer to see Bucky walk into the lab, still in his tactical gear. He didn't seem fazed by the cut that was bleeding from his forehead; at the very least that seemed to be his only injury.

"You saved our asses again" Bucky grinned while you shook your head, taking his hand and making him sit at your desk, pulling out a first aid kit to take care of a gash that was cut across his eyebrow.

"And you're still bleeding" You gently dabbed a cotton ball to his eyebrow, carefully blowing away the sting after.

"Just a scratch doll" Bucky shrugged, letting you clean up the cut, the serum already starting to heal it. "How were things here"

"The usual, made some tea, watched your mission online, nothing exciting"

Bucky hummed, bringing up the same thing he always did after getting back from a mission without fail.

"Maybe you should learn some self-defense doll" He peeked an eye open, meeting yours while you put a final band aid on the side of his forehead just above his brow. "Just in case. Can't have anything happening to our favorite little short cake"

"I'm perfectly safe in the lab, Bucky" You replied, his words making your cheeks heat up, brushing them off as his usual playful teasing. This wasn't the first time Buck had suggested you learn self defense and you always shut it down.

"C'mon. I'll teach you, give you a private lesson. I'll be gentle" He prodded further, being dead serious in his offer. Sure you were safe at the tower but should anything happen, he wanted you to be able to take care of yourself if necessary.

"Bucky-

"It'll be good for you! What if someone broke into the compound when we aren't here"

"Bucky-

"Or if aliens attack. It literally happened last month. Remember that big purple ball sack-

"Bucky-

"Or if you're just walking down the street and someone tries to steal your purse"

"James-

"Pleaaseeee" Bucky gave you his final puppy pout, eyes wide, his bottom lip jutting out until you finally huffed, butterflies fluttering around you tummy.

"Just once" You agreed, feeling like you'd been lit on fire at the handsome smile he gave you, deciding to meet up twice a week at the gym for training. You felt nervous, seeing as you'd never had to use self-defense in your life. You weren't exactly coordinated for fighting and even though you were learning you didn't want to look like a complete fool in front of Bucky of all people.

-

You nervously made your way to the gym, surprised to find it empty with just Bucky waiting for you at the mats. You were expecting to find it full with the others training as well.

"Is it just us here?" You asked as he held his hand out, helping you under the ropes.

"Booked the gym just for us doll, we have it for an hour so you don't have to worry about anyone else" He smiled warmly, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn't obvious, not wanting to seem like a creep. He really did want to train you, but he couldn't help the inkling of excitement he felt getting to help his crush.

You were surprised at what a gentleman he was. Training went surprisingly well; Bucky started off with easy moves, always warming up and helping you stretch first. It didn't help that you were flustered each time, usually slipping or tripping because you were caught up in his blue eyes or pink lips, the scent of his cologne always making you woozy.

He caught you every single time, setting you back on your feet with ease, praising what a good job you were doing whenever you did something well and encouraging you when he showed you something more challenging.

"Alright, today you're going to attack me" Bucky stated while you stared at his wide eyed, shaking your head.

"Bucky, I'm not sure I can-

"Yes you can short cake, c'mon, show me what you've got" He threw you a playful smirk, taking a few steps back and getting into position. You gulped, shaking off your nerves before steadying yourself, remembering everything he'd taught you. It didn't help that he'd decided to leave his shirt behind, his sculped body nearly taunting you from focusing. You launched yourself at him, managing to land a hit near his ribs before he caught you, gently grabbing your arm and holding it in place.

"Good job doll, now you're going to try and get out of this and attack again". Bucky's voice was strained, struggling with all his might to keep from blushing more, the scent of your shampoo and the softness of your skin making him giddy. With each training session, he was falling more and more for you, your shy giggles and smiles making his school boy crush worse.

You tried to focus on getting out of his hold instead of the fact that you were pressed tightly against him with your back to his chest, his warm breath fanning against your cheek, the coolness of his arm making you shiver. You wriggled around, slipping out and lunging forward again. You couldn't recall the exact sequence of steps Bucky had taught you, asking him while still moving.

"Do you think I should-ops-" You squeaked, losing your footing, crashing right into the soldier, sending you both onto the floor, landing right on top of Bucky. Bucky caught you, hands firmly on your waist while your eyes grew wide as your nose nearly brushed against his, chest pressed right onto him. You were frozen in place as the the tension grew thick, his baby blues daring to your lips before looking at you again, your sweet face centimeters from his, all he had to do was just-

Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips against yours, smirking at the surprised gasp you let out before melted into him, eyes closing when you left his tongue softly trace along your lips. You lost yourself into the kiss, gasping again when he handled you with ease, standing with your legs wrapped around his waist, holding you securely. Your heart hammered against as he made his way towards to the gym doors, his arm supporting your ass while the the other cupped your face to kiss you again.

"Wanted to do that for so long short cake" Bucky shyly smiled, pressing the button of the elevator to take you right to his room, leaning in again for another kiss. You giggled, kissing him right back, tugging on his dogtags, not breaking away from each other until you were in the privacy of his room, gasping for air.

Bucky gently nudged the door shut, laying you down softly on the bed, lying on top of you, brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hi" He gave you a boyish smile, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, coaxing you to look at him when you tried to shy away, still in shock you had kissed Bucky and now you were in his room.

"Hi" You whispered, biting your lip feeling his hand softly stroke your waist, the both of you lost in each other again. You sucked in a breath before pressing a kiss to his cheek, blinking up at him to see if it was okay.

"So soft" He hummed, stroking up your thigh to your waist when your hitched your leg over him desperately wanting him closer. "My pretty short cake" Bucky didn't rush, the both of you innocently kissing on his bed, not leaving an inch of skin untouched with hands exploring each others bodies. Your stomach flipped when you felt his erection press against your tummy, the deep blush on his cheeks making you fall for him so much more.

"Is this okay?" Bucky asked, toying with the hem of your shirt, waiting for your permission before going any further.

"Please Bucky" Your voice was needy, craving to be closer, warmth pooling in your panties at the sight of his bulge straining in his grey joggers. He took his time undressing you, taking your hands in his and pulling you up so he could take your top off, tossing your sports bra aside immediately after. You lifted your hips up, letting him pull your shorts and panties off in one go, feeling exposed, your legs shut tightly together. As much as he wanted to admire your pretty body, Bucky kept his eyes on your face, smiling at you reassuringly while you covered yourself with his sheets.

He threw his clothes off before joining you under the covers, laying on top of you again, this time letting his kisses trail to others places. You let your hands cling onto his muscular shoulders while he kissed down your neck and across your chest, making his way to your peaked nipples, taking one into his mouth. You bit your lip to hold back your moan, hardly realizing you'd spread your legs for him, the slick between your folds making a mess between the sheets.

His cock leaked against your thigh each time you whined, his tongue drawing circles around your softness, pulling off so he could pay attention to the other. His thumb came up to flick your nipples, groaning when he felt your hand come to play with his hair, his hips rutting against the bed.

He continued to kiss down your body, nipping your tummy before settling between your legs, licking your sensitive inner thighs before spreading your folds apart and kissing your clit.

"So sweet doll" He whispered as he began to gently suckle, moaning when you whimpered, his arm slinging over your hips to keep you from squirming.

"Oh-B-Bucky!" You gasped, the band in your belly already starting to tighten as he drew circles, his lips sealed around your sensitive nub, nursing from you with the most soft, gently gurgles, his beard soaked with your juiced. "Bucky-I-I'm gonna-

"Come for me short cake, lemme taste all of you" Bucky went right back in, the sound of your moans growing louder making his cock throb, restraining himself from humping the bed knowing damn well he'd blow his load if he moved the slightest. You came all over Bucky's face, covering your face with your arm when he crawled back up with a grin, your arousal glistening off his lips.

"All shy for me now doll?" He purred, moving your arm away so he could kiss you deeply. You could feel his painfully hard cock pressed against you reaching down to stroke him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, his eyes rolling back, involuntarily thrusting forward into your hand, a drop of precum falling onto your skin. The sight alone send another wave of arousal gushing between your legs, feeling more empty than ever, feeling his thick velvety shaft fuck your hand.

"Can-can I?" You were too shy to say it but you wanted to make Bucky feel good too, his perfect pink glistening cockhead begging to be sucked, all leaky and swollen.

"You have no idea how much I'd love that but I just-I really wanna be inside you baby" Bucky panted, letting out a strained chuckle knowing damn well he wouldn't last if he saw your sweet doe eyes looking up at him with your mouth filled with cock, much less actually feeling your tongue. "Is this okay?"

He pumped his cock a few times, swiping it along your folds, his weeping tip catching against your fluttering hole.

"Will-will it fit?" you bit your lip, bringing your legs to wrap around his waist, your arms slinging around his shoulders, wrapping yourself around him.

"Told you I'd be gentle" Bucky smiled softly, kissing your cheek as he started to push in, swallowing your gasp as he began stretched you. "Fuck you feel so good" Bucky moaned softly, continued to give you every inch until he bottomed out, stilling so you could adjust.

"Everything okay?" He looked at you with concern, wrapping your body protectively against his.

"Feels good Bucky" you nodded, your voice melting into a moan as he started to move, pulling his hips back slowly and thrusting forward again, keeping a steady motion, letting you feel every bit of him inside you. He reached places you'd never felt before, shamelessly getting louder, digging your nails into his skin when he moved faster, desperate to give you as much pleasure as he could.

"Wanted this for so long doll, y'know that? How long I wanted to make love to you?" He confessed, grinding his hips, barely pulling out, his full, heavy balls pressed against your ass. "Make you feel so good pretty girl, take care of my sweet little short cake who always looks out for me"

"Please don't stop Bucky!" You begged, squeezing his cock, your pussy pulling him back in each time he pulled out, nearly tearing up at his words. "Don't-oh god-Bucky, don't-stop!"

"I know baby, I know" Bucky cooed, "Shhh, feels good, doesn't it? Is that all babygirl? Does it feel good?" His thrusts grew more powerful until he was pounding you into the matters, pouring every bit of his feelings into his strokes, the feeling of your body wrapped around his driving him closer to his own climax.

"Feels-good-so-good" you hiccupped between a whine, crying out when he brought his knee up to fuck you deeper, hitting a different angle. "RIGHT THERE BUCKY"

"That's it angel, I know baby, that's your spot, doing so good for me, think you can give me one more doll? Cum one more time for me?"

"Y-yeah!" You wailed, your back arching off the bed as he brought his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit with soft circles, adding more pressure between snapping his hips. "I'm gonna cum Bucky!!"

"My good girl, makes me so hard when you say my name baby, cum for me angel, cum on my cock, don't stop till you cream all over me baby, I got you" He held you tighter, your head tucked into the crook of his arm while he cradled you, his other hand still rubbing you. His pace didn't faster, panting, desperately holding his own orgasm off, your brows knitting together, jaw slack, sweat covering your skin.

"You look so pretty like this babygirl, fuck, gonna make me cum y/n" He practically whined, moaning loudly with you when he started to feel you milk his cock, fluttering and squeezing him as your orgasm washed over you.

"BUCKKYY" You screamed his name as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his movements growing sloppy.

"You feel so good doll, so so good, sweetheart-fuck-I'm cumming" Bucky moaned against your neck, stilling as his cock started to throb, his warmth splashing against your cervix. He rocked his hips a few more times till he was milked dry, collapsing into your arms and rolling over so he could pull the covers over you both.

-

You giggled to yourself, tucked snuggly in Bucky's thick arms, your cheek pressed right against his warm chest. Neither if you had spoken a word yet, basking in a post sex haze, cozy and content in each others embrace.

"What's so funny short cake" Bucky whispered, tipping your chin up to meet his twinkling eyes, a dusting of pink still covering his cheeks.

"You're so cuddly for a big scary assassin" You teased, while he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"S'not my fault" He playfully pouted before squeezing you tighter. "Can you blame me? Look at who I get to cuddle with"

You smiled, resting your head on his chest again, tracing invisible shapes onto his skin while he stroked your back, his heart starting to beat faster as he began to speak again.

"This-what happened between us-

You froze, stopping your ministrations, dread pooling in your chest over Bucky's words.

Had you misread the situation?

Oh god, you did, he didn't actually like you, you-

"It wasn't just a one time thing for me. I've liked you for a long time short cake-" Your spiral stopped immediately, looking at him with wide eyes, only to find him nervously chewing his bottom lip raw. "I don't- I don't know if you feel the same way but I'd love for you to be mine-if you'd have me"

His last words melted into a whisper, still looking at you with precious shyness, your heart ready to burst out of your chest at how soft he was for you. Your surprised him, smashing your lips against his, the adorable squeak slipping past his lips turning into a groan.

"You like me?" You grew bashful, tucking your face into his neck, giving the young soldier his confidence back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Like me like me?"

"Course darlin' you're my best girl" He kissed your forehead before rolling you over and attacking you with kisses again, the both of you grinning at each other with heart eyes,

"My favorite little short cake"

"My Bucky bear"

[cafterdark]

You always struggled with doing tasks. Between the procrastination, executive dysfunction, and exhaustion, even cleaning the dishes was a herculean task. It got so bad that it started to affect your work, leading to a stern talk from your boss. That's why, when your friend Jess, told you about her job's, Auton Industries, new productivity improvement services, you were willing to give it a shot.

The tech itself was simple, just a pair of dark sunglasses, indistinguishable from any normal pair. When you put it on, it prompted you with the text "Unit 4372 Settings" and hundreds of sliders and buttons. It overwhelmed you, so you picked the default options. A nice ding played and the actual software began.

On the right side of your vision, a list of task crept down, tasks and subtasks ranging from "Clean Dishes (32)" to "Improve Health (15)." The glasses highlighted various objects, with commands like "Clean", "Move", "Throw Away." Every time you completed a task, the highlight went green and dissipated, a speaker whispering sweet encouragement into your ear, followed by the same soft ding.

Put away some loose papers.

"Good Job!" Ding!

Finally take out the trash

"Great Work!" Ding!

Vacuum the floors.

"Keep Going!" Ding!

Every time you completed a task, that little bit of encouragement, that pleasurable ding, sank into your chest, making you feel warm, even more, appreciated. It was a feeling no other job or hobby had ever given you. When you were done with all your tasks, the shower of praise and dings you got was intoxicating.

You didn't admit it, but it was addictive. Soon, you began chasing the high of completing tasks, a depression following after finishing. You felt so useful following its commands, so appreciated when reviving its praise. You started helping friends clean their houses, just to get more. When you cleaned Jess's house, she had this grin that said she knew, as impossible as that was. Something fluttered in your stomach as she observed your work, giving her own compliments on top of the glasses. By the end, you could hardly stand with how much appreciation you received.

After, a new notification popped up on your glasses as you put them on in the morning.

"Due to your overwhelming success with our program, Auton Industries extends the offer to join our Advance Productivity program."

Needless to say, you joined immediately, and after many, many lengthy terms of service signed, a new piece of tech was sent to your home.

It was a full face mask, the face impenetrable black glass that reflected yourself. The instructions were simple. You put the mask on before you went to bed, and took it off in the morning. While you slept, the mask would play subliminal messages that increased the effectiveness of the productivity training.

You expected strange dreams from it, but all that greeted you was some beeps and soft static. In the morning, you felt better rested than ever before. Your exhaustion was gone.

The effects were immediate. Each completed task's made you feel so appreciated, each compliment and ding rocking through your body. On top of the mask, the glasses had gotten an update, with a whole new host of compliments.

Get dressed for work

"Good girl!" Ding!

Clean morning dishes

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Any discomfort with the wording was washed away by the appreciation you felt. It was complimenting you! You were useful! That couldn't be bad. By the time you were done, you needed to change underwear, and any thought of taking them off for work was excised from your mind.

The rest of the update showed itself as you began your job. Tasks had been made specifically for your work, and even what to say on calls, something you always struggled with, was automated. You found it so easy to sink into a pleasurable trance, following what the glasses told you to, shaking with every compliment. By the end of the shift, you had gotten more work done that ever before, and even got appreciation from the boss.

This process of wearing the mask while you slept, glasses while you were awake continued. And despite a few occasions like accidentally almost wearing the mask to work, things were going great, it... you were feeling so appreciated. Jess checked in on you more, keeping track of your progress. She seemed overwhelming happy with the results, calling you one of their best units. Something about the way she said that made it you shiver.

Then one day, a new package arrived at the door. You didn't remember ordering it, but then again, you didn't remember a lot of stuff now days. You fell into a loving haze of appreciation and usefulness and let the programing command it you.

A new task popped up, top of the list, most important:

"Open Package"

You followed without question.

"Good Girl!" Ding!

Inside was a latex suit.

"Put On Uniform"

The suit slipped on like a glove, each part lovingly crafted for your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed it was a lot curvier than you, a lot more feminine, but it was soon buried by:

"Good Unit!" Ding!

"Put On Headset"

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Silly you, you already had it on!

"Repeat"

"It is a good drone"

"It is a good drone," You said

Ding!

"It is a Useful drone."

"It is a useful drone."

Ding!

"It is an Appreciated Drone"

"It is an Appreciated Drone," it said.

Ding!

It shuttered

"Calibration Complete, State Designation."

"Unit 4372"

"Good Drone" Ding!

If it still had control of its body, its knees would've buckled.

"Assume Transportation Position"

It fell to its knees, arms crossing behind its back and locking.

"Wait for Unit's owner to arrive, repeat mantra."

"It is a good drone, it is an useful drone, it is an appreciated drone, it is a good drone..."

... ... ...

"So there she is."

"Owner Arrival Acknowledged, cease previous instructions."

Unit 4372 looked to the voice, and saw its owner. Something in the back of its systems screamed recognition, attempting to hijack its programing to give Owner a name. Something that started with a J, but a simple touch by Owner drowned it all away.

"My star unit," Owner said. "Look how you've turned out."

Unit 4372 squirmed. It was so appreciated, so useful

"Come on, let's get you home."

If it could, Unit 4372 would've smiled.

[arabellascented]

💿 … 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 (neo)

warnings. smut. spanking. brat taming (if you squint), sub/dom dynamics. this may be a lot cringe. not proof read. English is not my first language (may be incoherent, grammatically wrong). 1,4k words. this is my first time writing on third person, so forgive me if it sounds repetitive.

thomas anderson (pre-matrix!neo) x f!reader.

Freshly out of college, you found yourself working at a software corporation, Metacortex. Being a secretary wasn’t all the glamorous job you envisioned to yourself, but it wasn’t like you could expect to start from the top right after graduating.

You couldn’t say your work was bad. Your boss, Mr. Rhineheart, was cold, on the verge of rude, but respect you and your space, and you were glad for it. You had some stupid coworkers, computer nerds who loved to stray their gaze to your stocking covered thighs, but none of them brave enough to actually say something. Your hard gaze and stiff attitude scared them off. You knew how you had to impose yourself in a man predominant place, and you weren’t afraid of it.

You were typing a report on your computer, your mind completely focused when suddenly you heard a cough in front of your table. You looked up, finding a very nervous man standing on front of you.

— H-hey, I’m sorry to bother you — His voice was deep but soft, clammy hands holding a thick file. — I needed a copy of those papers, i-if you can, of course… — He explained, his hands coming closer to drop the files on your table, shaky hands accidentally knocking a plastic box full of paper clips. You were lucky the box was closed, or else a thousand of paper clips would be now on the floor. But the man, now looking more like boy, hissed, profusely apologizing to you.

— Hey, don’t fret, I’m gonna bring the copy to you. — You answered, looking deep into his eyes. You found amusing how nervous and respectful he was. Technically, it was your job to help the coders, and the majority of assholes here just dropped files and orders at your table like you were they own personal computer. So to see this guy, all polite and apologetic, asking you for a copy of his papers, did a number to you. Not to mention his puppy dog eyes, chocolate irises too afraid to look into your eyes.

You entered on the printing room, already scanning the long file, paper by paper. The doors and walls where all made of tinted glasses, and this way, you could see him standing in front of your desk, obediently waiting, fidgeting with the hems of his suit. One more point on the score, he didn’t expected you to guess where his cubicle were. Shamelessly staring at his face, you noticed how cute he looked. With a boyish look, and a polite behavior. This was a rare sigh in Chicago.

After some few minutes, you clipped the copy, bringing it to him.

— What’s your name? — You unpretentiously asked, a grin on your face. He panicked for some seconds, forgetting his own name.

— Thomas Anderson..— He barely murmured, eyes locked in your lips. You smirked, containing the temptation to bite your lower lip. Focus, you’re at work.

— If you need anything, just ask me, Thomas — You answered, voice a little bit more sweet than your usual. He nodded, stumbling on a trash can before walking back to his cubicle. You chuckle to yourself, deciding you want this awkward computer nerd all to yourself.

You didn’t need much convincing to snatch Thomas. After a few months, if you pointed to the floor, he would just kneel at your feet, like your obedient puppy of a man. He would flutter whenever you called him your boyfriend, ready to hung the moon and the stars if you needed. Sure, he was a little bit awkward, but it was endearing. His place was always messy, and you were sure that he had something ilegal going own, judging by the way he panicked whenever someone knocked on the front door of his apartment. You once caught the sight of him handing a CD case by the crack of his door, receiving a fat stash of cash in exchange. It was always nagging in the back of your mind, but you pushed it aside, deciding to only enjoy and live in the moment.

And of course, Thomas awkwardness was also present in bed. He wasn’t at all experienced, but always sweetly and obediently learning all of your weak spots, where you liked to be touched or kissed, your favorite pace, your favorite position, how to make you come beautifully for him, singing like a siren on his ear. He always let you to lead the pace, never indulging, always shy and afraid of doing something wrong.

Tom never let you unsatisfied. He was a pleasure giver, always needing to satisfy you. But as much as you enjoyed the vanilla missionary, you needed something more.

You were sitting at his single bed, watching his nimble fingers typing codes at his keyboard. He was so quick you could only barely keep up. You were drooling, already dreaming of those fingers working you on, fast and quick and unrelating, clenching around nothing.

— Tom… — You murmured, breaking the silence of his dark apartment. He only hummed, not moving his eyes from the screen. You huffed on a bratty way, crossing your arms.

— Tom! — you called again, louder this time. He moved his eyes from the screen, gaze already apologetic. Smirking in victory, you leaned in the bed.

— Need you, Tommy… — You used the soft tone of voice that always melted him. Three little words and he was already all yours, moving towards the bed like you casted a spell on him.

— You make me crazy, pretty girl… — he murmured, kissing your lips with passion. Kissing him back, your hands moved to tangle in his soft hair, pulling lightly at his scalp. But today, you needed something different. You wanted to see Thomas breaking from this shy exterior, to be dominated a bit. And his huge hand with long fingers where driving your fantasies wild. Parting your lips from him, you looked deeply into his chocolate eyes, pupils blown wide for you.

— Would you do something, if I asked? — Before the murmur even finished from your lips, Thomas was already nodding, breath heavy.

— I would do anything you asked. — His obedient murmur made your insides clench.

— I want you to spank me.. — You blurted out your desire, making Thomas eyes widen. Of course, he watched his damn share of porn, and wasn’t completely oblivious to the concept. But seeing you, his sweet girlfriend, asking to be spanked, was still a surprise for him.

— b-but what if I hurt you? — His question was low and apprehensive. You chuckled, finding it sweet.

— You could never hurt me, Tommy, I trust you, so much… — You murmured, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing the back of it, already moving yourself to lay across his thighs, ignoring how Thomas was almost short-circuiting at the sigh. Deep down, he was aroused at the way you never shied away to claim what you wanted. Always taking what you needed from him.

He was there, frozen, gaze glued to your ass, prettily displayed for him like a blank canvas. He knew he couldn’t stay there like a idiot, leaving you hanging forever. His shaky hands came to softly caress your globes, admiring your velvety skin. Part of him didn’t wanted to mark your pristine skin, the other part hungry to see you all ruined for him and only him.

His first smack was tentative, more a tap than a slap. You whined, showing your displease at him holding back, your leg kicking on the mattress. Thomas was still testing the waters, taking knowledge of your reactions, your limits.

He moved to the other cheek, his hand coming down harder this time, a soft, faint “smack” echoing in his apartment. Still, it wasn’t what you wanted at all. You kicked again, like a petulant brat.

— Thomas! — you whined, with a huff. His hand came lower, squeezing your thigh in a warning.

— Calm down. — His voice was eerily calm, and even dominant. Goosebumps erupted in your skin, arousal doubling down. The next spank was harder, making your skin tingle, a faint burn building where his palm landed. With every consecutive spank, his strength grew, until you were again whining and squirming at his lap, your ass stinging deliciously but overwhelmingly as he abused your ass cheeks. You tried to get up again, but it ended up on him pressing his palm between your shoulder blades, pinning you in place.

— wasn’t that what you asked for? Now quit whining like a brat and take it. — His tone wasn’t nothing like the usual, to far gone in the pleasure to dominate you, to punish you and put you in place. And you could only moan and whine, feeling the power of his domination, submitting to him for the first time.

He spanked you until your cheeks were sore and completely red. His whole palm was imprinted all over your skin, even some welts forming.

— That’s it, good girl… — He murmured, finally letting go your punishment. When you thought it was all over, he pushed your panties to the side, reveling the slick covering your lower lips, pussy puffy with arousal. He chuckled darkly, amused at how aroused you got by a simple spanking. And then, a spank landed right on your most sensitive part, making you cry out and jolt, walls clenching around air. You were shocked at his atitude, never expecting it from your sweet and shy boyfriend.

— T-Thomas…— You pleaded, not even knowing what you were begging for. Maybe for mercy, maybe for more, already overwhelmed with arousal.

“— Call me Neo…—”

[xuchiya]

tug in the heart || jung wooyoung || one-shot

| genre: fluff. slice of life. enemies-to-lovers- kind of trope. office kind of trope. | mentions: wooyoung being a tease. teasing.

this is wooyoung's version of yeosang's one-shot.

Monday has passed, and now it’s 4:30 in the afternoon—every employee is clocking out, and so are you. The office hums with quiet chatter, the rhythmic tapping of keyboards filling the air as the late sun filters through the blinds. You stretch in your chair, glancing at the clock. Almost there.

Grabbing your bag, you leave your laptop and charger on your desk, planning to squeeze in another hour of work before heading home. You move around your cubicle when—

"Yah, are you really gonna leave like that?"

A familiar, mischievous voice cuts through your thoughts. Your eyelids flutter shut for a brief moment as you inhale deeply, already bracing yourself. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

Jung Wooyoung. The walking chaos of your intern group. Ever since you joined the company as a UI/UX Designer intern, he’s made it his mission to get on your nerves. He takes the smallest opportunity to nitpick your designs—“That’s not aligned,” “The shade is slightly off,” “Are you colorblind?”—all just to push your buttons.

And, of course, you don’t let him win. If he’s annoying, then you’re his worst nightmare. You still take pride in the time you designed an interface so "user-friendly" that even he, a software developer, admitted it was complicated.

Let’s just say, the war never ends.

You roll your eyes and finally turn to face him. “Like what?”

Wooyoung leans against your desk, arms crossed, that signature smirk playing on his lips. The one that says he’s up to something. “With that tail of yours, of course.”

You blink, confused—until you feel a slight tug at your ID lace. It had become your habit to always leave your ID hanging on the back of your pocket jeans. Your breath hitches not because you were caught but because he’s holding it between his fingers, twirling the end like it’s the most amusing thing in the world.

“Seriously?” you deadpan, reaching to snatch it back. But he’s faster—of course he is. With a playful flick of his wrist, he yanks it just enough to make you stumble forward—straight into him.

Your hands instinctively press against his chest, the warmth beneath his shirt making your heart stutter. For a moment, the world stops.

Wooyoung tilts his head, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Woah there, no need to fall for me so fast.”

Your face burns. You shove at his shoulder, scowling. “You’re insufferable.”

“But entertaining.” He wiggles his brows. “And you love it.”

“You wish.”

“Same thing.”

The bickering doesn’t stop as you both step out of the office, the cool evening air welcoming you. The food park a few steps away is already alive with customers, the scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread lingering in the air.

You pull out your phone, typing a quick message in the group chat: Stepping out to grab dinner with Wooyoung. Pray for my patience.

The moment you glance up, Wooyoung tugs at your ID lace again.

“Would you—” Before you can finish, he pulls just hard enough to throw off your balance. You stumble forward—

—straight into the path of a passing server.

Your eyes widen as the tray tilts, drinks wobbling precariously. Your body tenses, bracing for the inevitable disaster—

But it never comes.

Wooyoung is faster. His arm shoots out, steadying the tray just in time before it spills. The server exhales in relief, muttering a quick “Thanks,” before rushing off.

You, on the other hand, whirl on Wooyoung, heart still racing from the near disaster. “Are you serious?! Were you actually trying to embarrass me?” Your face heats up, a mix of frustration and lingering shame bubbling up. “Is this your way of taking things to the next level?!”

At first, he laughs—because to him, it had just been a joke. A harmless, stupid joke. But the second he sees the look on your face, the way your shoulders are stiff, your eyes glaring but also a little unsure—his laughter fades.

His expression softens, and before you can react, he tugs at your ID lace with a light flick, shaking his head. “Didn’t think you’d get that worked up,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then, with a crooked smile, “Hey, you didn’t actually fall, right? ‘Cause I got you.”

Something in his voice—something quieter, almost careful—makes your breath catch. His teasing is still there, but it’s gentler now, laced with something else.

And then, just like that, he’s back to being Wooyoung. He lets go of your ID lace with a smirk and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Seriously though,” he muses, “That guy is rushing and you weren't paying attention. Be careful. Can’t have you getting dragged away by your own ID.”

The ridiculousness of it should make you roll your eyes, but instead, your heart does an embarrassing little flip.

Before you can think of something witty to fire back, Wooyoung moves closer—closer than necessary. With zero hesitation, he slings an arm over your shoulders, his warmth seeping through your sleeve as he steers you toward the food stalls.

“Alright, alright,” he drawls, voice dipping into something undeniably sweet. “I was a little mean, so let me make it up to you. My treat. Anything you want.”

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “Anything?”

He grins, tilting his head. “Anything,” he repeats, gaze warm, teasing—just softer now.

Jung Wooyoung was still trouble. Just… a different kind of trouble.

[rookiesbookies]

Inspired by my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller and a second submission to #Soapitup (im summonimg you again @glitterypirateduck ). Im actually going to name this one and it’s called:

A doll and his loser.

Its loser!reader x sex doll!Reboot!Soap

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

Especially let me know if you want part two

Fic under the cut as always.

Edit: im incredibly dyslexic im so sorry for typos

When the line of 141 sex dolls, which were based on random men she had never heard of who seemed just magically created for this line, showed in a sketching email in her inbox, she must have been truly weak that night. She had been incredibly drunk and disappointed by a man who just didn’t even bother to bring her pleasure. So of course she ordered the sketchy, ‘satisfaction guaranteed’ doll. There were choices, quite a few actually. But it was the beefy Scottsman that stood out against the rest, she couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it was his soft face, his muscles, or maybe the outfit he came with, it could even be his hair. Sure there was a photo of what his cock looked like on the sight, a normal length with a great amount of girth, but she wasn’t too picky.

She had completely forgotten about the lifelike sex doll she ordered, she learned was named ‘Johnny’ until the giant box that weighed more than she did sat on her doorstep. She quickly shoved the package marked ‘fragile’ in her door. The gibberish language on the side of the box wasn’t one she recognized, she realized as she struggled to get the box in. She gently put the box on its side before grabbing a butter knife from her kitchen.

When she got the sides of the box open she saw his face. So much softer in person, with his long lashes and plush cheeks. She traced her thumb over his cheek and over his lips before his eyes gently fluttered open at her touch. He seemed almost surprised before his eyes relaxed. It must be the personality software? It did say something about that. His eyes a crazy blue, the kind that looks like the ocean meeting the sky, they were so glossy and sweet, they seemed, truthfully, real. She brushed it off, its just a doll, this was a high tech sex doll, at least that's what the marketing said.

He studied her features and watched to lean into her warm touch, but his rigid body wouldn’t allow it.

She did her best to get the heavy doll out of its box. Dragging it into her bedroom. Even his hair is life-like, which was crazy.

When she got him onto her bed she propped him up against the headboard of her bed, his eyes watching her every move as she walked back out to search for his manual.

“Stupid company didn’t even send me a manual.” She grumbled, a few things were written on the box.

‘Ejaculates like a real man!’ ‘Life-like groans!’ ‘Tease him to get him up!’ ‘Built like a real stallion!’ There was a forth thing that the words had pulled off of when she tore off the tape, now it was illegible but she saw it pointed to the lips, so she assumed they were ‘soft like a real man’s!’

He was almost static in whatever position she put him in, one of his arms hovering in the weird position she left it in.

He seemed almost too lifelike, the way his eyes watched her.

“What?” She asked, “you seem surprised.”

She was met with silence.

“Oh, who am I kidding, you’re a fucking doll. You’re not going to reply to me, this isn’t some X rated Toy Story movie.” She grumbled before her stomach grumbled back. So she left her doll man to get some food.

She cooked herself a quick meal then went to go shower, completely forgetting about the doll as she stripped until she noticed the large bump in his change.

“I didn’t realize stripping to shower meant teasing,” she thought out loud. “At least now I can check if you were marketed correctly.”

She gently undid the belt on the doll’s pants, which seemed like real high quality jeans a real person would wear, before undoing the button and the zipper. Sliding down the waistband of his underwear she noticed the monster.

Her eyes flew wide, “maybe I should ask for measurements next time,” she mumbled, she wanted to faint. “They didn’t tell me you had a horse cock, big guy,’ she chuckled to herself, his eyes almost looking prideful, pupils seeming larger with almost bedroom eyes. They must have some crazy tech.

“I must really be losing it, talking to myself,” she sighed.

She let her fingers gently graze his dick before she spit on her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his fat cock delicately, not reaching all the way around. She sighed before getting up to pull more lube from her night stand. One of her hands, now covered in lube, began to massage him while her other hand began to rub around her pussy.

She hummed, mumbling about how needy she was, how guys had disappointed her in the past, what she wanted. This went on for a few minutes until she was sure she was prepped, awkwardly climbing on top of her beefcake sex doll before lining him up with her hole and sinking down. His eyes rolled back but she didn’t notice because her’s did too.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled almost pitifully, letting her head fall against his hairy chest, a tattoo of a Scottish flag pulled tight on one of his pecs. “I haven’t been filled like this in so long.”

She sat there and adjusted, hands balled into fists against the doll’s chest. A chest that felt so warm and inviting.

She slowly began to rock her hips, soft whimpers and moans falling from her lips that got louder as she began to bounce on him. She supported herself with one hand while the other was in her mouth to suffocate her louder moans. Her eyes teary from the girth of him.

The doll let out little groans and moans too that slipped from behind his sealed lips.

It wasn’t long before her tight walls began to flutter, he came almost instantly when they began to flutter, she gasped at the feeling but kept going until she reached her own peak. But it wasn’t quite enough, so she kept bouncing. He came faster and faster, cock starting to ache because of the bonnie lass that was riding it. With a cunt like that on him he couldn’t help but shoot hot, white spirts into her.

When she got off him, it slid down her inner thigh, she swiped it up and stuck it in her mouth which made him almost faint.

“Jeez, it tastes real too,” she said like a question before walking away.

She got a wash cloth she had been planning to use for a shower and cleaned up the dolly with gentle touches. She felt like she needed to treat him like a real man, he was so close it seemed. She zipped his pants back up and set him on the ground before putting a sleep mask over his eyes.

“Nothing personal, I just don’t know how to put you in sleep mode and I don’t want to accidentally turn your dick on again when I get out of the shower.” She said before hopping in the bathroom. Her pussy was sore to say the least, but the good kind, the kind that makes a girl feel well used and fulfilled, she did her best to get the most of that fake cum out of her cunt.

After she scrubbed herself clean of the day and of that fulfilling session with her doll she made her way back into her room and flopped on her bed before crashing and falling asleep.

She used him about every other day or so for the next couple weeks before she started ovulating. She was like a bitch in heat, her body couldn’t calm down. She was flushed and couldn’t stop. She had two days off from work and pulled Johnny from where he had been set on the chair, returning him to her bed. The weird doll must have realized something weird was happening because it- he- was immediately hard. She immediately got on too of him, she had tried other positions but cowgirl was just the easiest by far with Johnny. She immediately lubed herself and him up, pumping him twice to make sure he was fully hard before sliding on.

The broken moans that fell from her mouth were a chorus of angels singing in his ears.

“I feel like such a loser,” she whined, “talking to and fucking a sex doll instead of a real guy, i feel like a weirdo.”

She put her head to his chest with whimpers falling from her mouth. He had already cum, his noises turning to the broken ones they always did before he came, a nice audio cue for the doll to have.

“Just a little more, please,” she whined to her doll.

After she rode out her high she laid sprawled out against his chest.

“I wonder how you’d be im bed if you were real,” she asked no one in particular. She was so especially weak right now. Ovulation making her so needy and sad, she couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to his stiff lips as she let her eyes flutter closed to take a breather before the horny took back over.

She didn’t feel his stiff body relax, she didn’t notice anything until his plastic-y fingers ran up and down her waist.

“You won’t have to wonder any more, bonnie lass.” His voice was a low grumble in here ear, his scottish accent loud and clear. “How do you want it, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Hope you have a wonderful day, lovely reader💜 you deserve it

ALSO SIMON’S IS UP NOW.

[yassbishimvintage]

Hearts On Deck (3)

A/N: We back baby

Masterlist

Cleo adjusted the angle of her phone as she snapped a quick shot of her screen, showing her editing software in action. The caption read: "Another day, another edit! Can’t wait for you all to see what’s coming 🖤", and she added a few cute emojis to lighten the mood. It was a casual post—nothing too over the top—but it gave her followers a peek into her daily grind.

As she hit ‘Post,’ the usual wave of likes started rolling in almost immediately. The little red hearts flooded the screen as her audience reacted.

A few minutes later, she got a direct message notification. It was from one of her followers—her DM inbox was always active, but this one caught her attention because it was from someone who rarely reached out.

“Hey, love the behind-the-scenes look! What’s the next video going to be about? 🥺”

Cleo smiled, typing out a quick response. “Thanks! It's a behind-the-scenes of my day-to-day—editing, meetings, you know, the usual. Stay tuned 😉” She hit send, then moved on to another message that asked for her favorite beauty brands.

As the story continued to rack up views, she started feeling that familiar sense of validation, the rush of connection with her followers. It was a good feeling, but as always, it was brief. She found herself scrolling through her own feed again, watching the numbers climb.

Then, as if fate had its own way of teasing her, she noticed Aaron had liked her post about editing.

Her thumb hesitated before she tapped his profile, her eyes lingering on his latest post. There was something magnetic about him, even through the screen. The subtle way he posted, never too loud or flashy, just genuine and thoughtful.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text from him:

“Enjoying the behind-the-scenes peek! I see you working hard. Can’t wait to see the final cut. 😎”

Cleo felt a slight flutter in her chest. He was paying attention, in a way that felt personal, like he was truly interested in her work. She wasn’t used to that. Most of the time, guys were more focused on the image she presented than the things that mattered to her.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m excited for you to see it.” She sent back, casually, trying to keep things light but clearly smiling to herself.

Her phone buzzed once more, and before she even opened the message, she had an inkling it was from him again.

“We should hang out when you’re back in town. I think you’d appreciate the city a bit more when you’re not working all the time. 😊”

Her heart skipped a beat. The idea of spending more time with Aaron, outside of the whirlwind of work and the glitz of events, felt like a tempting proposition.

She typed a quick response: “I’m open to that idea. Maybe we can set something up soon.”

She put her phone down and returned to her editing, but her thoughts drifted back to Aaron. For a moment, the endless stream of likes and notifications didn’t matter. It was this connection, however subtle, that made everything feel more real.

-

The next day, Cleo woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of her hotel room. She stretched, feeling the quiet comfort of having a day off—a rare luxury in her hectic schedule. No events, no shoots, no meetings. Just time for herself.

She reached for her phone, checking the time and scanning through her messages. Nothing urgent. She let out a relieved sigh. She had planned to spend the day doing whatever she felt like—maybe a quiet brunch, some shopping, and definitely a little self-care.

After getting ready in a relaxed, comfy outfit—nothing too extravagant—Cleo decided to head out for some fresh air. As she stepped outside, the weather in London was perfect—mild, with a slight breeze. She smiled, feeling the city’s energy pulse around her.

She grabbed a coffee at a nearby café, enjoying the anonymity of just being one person in the crowd. No cameras, no expectations. Just her and the city. The brief break from her usual influencer persona was like a breath of fresh air.

Sitting at a corner table with her coffee, Cleo caught up on some personal reading. She found herself losing track of time, absorbed in the pages, when her phone buzzed again.

It was a text from Aaron:

“Hope you’re enjoying your day off. If you’re not too busy, how about a casual meet-up later? No cameras. Just us. 😊”

Cleo couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of his message. It wasn’t grand or showy—just an invitation to spend time together.

She replied quickly: “I’d like that. Where are you thinking?”

Aaron responded just as fast: “How about a low-key spot in Notting Hill? Some good food, good conversation. Let me know if that works for you.”

Cleo felt her pulse quicken slightly. Notting Hill was one of her favorite spots in London—charming, laid-back, and full of little hidden gems. She typed back: “Perfect. Let’s do it. What time?”

“How about 1 PM?” he replied.

She looked at the time—just enough for her to finish her coffee and wrap up the chapter she was reading. She smiled to herself. This felt like a nice change of pace.

By the time 1 PM rolled around, Cleo was dressed casually in a chic, minimalist outfit, with just the right touch of elegance. She wanted to look effortless but still put together. She left the hotel, heading for Notting Hill with the anticipation of seeing Aaron again, but this time, without the constraints of her influencer life.

She arrived at the café he’d mentioned and spotted him right away. He was leaning against a wall outside, dressed in a casual jacket, looking effortlessly cool. When their eyes met, he grinned.

“Glad you could make it,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Cleo returned his smile, feeling that flutter in her stomach again. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

They walked inside together, finding a quiet corner, the soft hum of conversation around them. For the first time in a while, Cleo felt like she could just be herself—no pretense, no cameras, just two people getting to know each other.

“So why this place?” She asks him.

Aaron leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced around the cozy café. The exposed brick walls, warm lighting, and soft hum of jazz playing in the background gave it an intimate charm.

“I come here when I want a bit of peace,” he admitted, fingers lightly tapping against the rim of his coffee cup. “It’s not flashy, not packed with people trying to be seen. Just good food, good coffee, and a quiet place to think.”

Cleo studied him for a moment, appreciating his simplicity. In her world, everything was about visibility—being at the right places, in the right outfits, with the right crowd. But Aaron? He seemed to move differently, like he wasn’t caught up in any of that. It was refreshing.

“So, this is where the reclusive actor comes to hide?” she teased, sipping her drink.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. I like being able to sit and just… exist, you know?”

She nodded, understanding the feeling more than she let on. “I can respect that. You don’t seem like the type who craves attention.”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “Acting is what I love, but the whole fame thing? Not really my scene.”

She raised a brow, smirking. “And yet, here you are, having coffee with someone whose life revolves around social media and attention.”

Aaron tilted his head, his hazel eyes locking onto hers with quiet intensity. “That’s different,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” She leaned in slightly, intrigued. “How so?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. “You’re not just about the attention. You actually enjoy what you do. You put effort into your content, your brand. It’s not just for show. That’s why it doesn’t feel the same.”

Cleo blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Most people only saw the surface—her curated posts, her flawless images, the events, the luxury. But Aaron had taken the time to see past that.

She exhaled a soft laugh. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or suspicious of how observant you are.”

He smirked. “Maybe a bit of both.”

She shook her head, smiling. “You know, I didn’t expect to run into you again, let alone be here having this conversation.”

Aaron’s expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe it was supposed to happen.”

His words lingered between them, unspoken possibilities hanging in the air. Cleo wasn’t sure what to make of it yet, but she knew one thing—this was different. And she liked it.

He grabbed her hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

Cleo felt a warmth spread through her at the gentle, almost absent-minded way Aaron traced his thumb over the back of her hand. It was such a simple touch, yet it sent a shiver up her spine. She glanced down at their hands, then back up at him, searching his face.

Aaron wasn’t trying to make a move—at least, not in the way most men did. He wasn’t trying to impress her with smooth lines or charm his way into something. He was just… there. Present. And the way his fingers lingered against her skin felt intentional, like he was memorizing the feel of her.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, eyes studying hers.

She let out a small breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Just… not used to this.”

He raised a brow. “This?”

She gestured vaguely between them. “A man who doesn’t rush things. Who just—” She paused, searching for the right words. “—who just lets things be what they are.”

Aaron’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, but his touch never wavered. “That’s because I don’t believe in forcing things.” His thumb moved in a slow, soothing motion. “What’s meant to happen will happen. No need to rush it.”

Cleo swallowed, realizing how much she liked that answer. In her world, everything was about control—curating, planning, making sure things looked effortless even when they weren’t. But with him? There was no pressure, no performance.

She turned her hand over, lacing her fingers with his just slightly, testing the waters. His grip tightened just a little, enough to let her know he was right there with her.

“And what do you think is meant to happen here?” she asked softly, tilting her head.

Aaron’s hazel eyes darkened slightly, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held her gaze, his thumb still tracing lazy circles against her skin. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he said,

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

-

As they stepped out of the restaurant, the cool London air greeted them, crisp but not too harsh. The quiet hum of the city surrounded them, a few distant cars, the muffled chatter of people passing by. But in that moment, all Cleo could focus on was Aaron—his presence beside her, the way his hand hovered near hers, his fingers just barely brushing against her skin as they walked.

It wasn’t accidental. He wasn’t rushing to grab her hand, but he wasn’t pulling away either. It was that same unspoken energy between them, that slow, steady pull neither of them seemed to fight.

Cleo smirked, glancing up at him. “You always this smooth?”

Aaron chuckled, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “I’d like to think I’m just being myself.”

She hummed, tilting her head. “Dangerous.”

His brow lifted. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said, watching him. “Because that means you’re not even trying.”

Aaron stopped walking for a second, turning to face her fully. The streetlights cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the quiet intensity in his hazel eyes. He stepped a little closer, and for the first time, she felt the warmth of his palm completely envelop hers.

“I don’t have to try,” he said, his voice low. “Not with you.”

Cleo’s breath hitched.

The way he said it—so simple, so certain—made her pulse quicken. She was used to attention, used to men wanting her for what she could offer, for the image she curated. But Aaron? He wasn’t chasing anything. He wasn’t playing a game.

And that? That was more dangerous than anything.

She exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”

Aaron smirked, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting it go. “I guess we’ll both have to find out.”

He nodded toward the street. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back.”

Cleo should’ve let go of the moment, played it off as just another night, another conversation. But as they strolled through the quiet streets of Notting Hill, his arm brushing against hers, she knew—something about this felt different.

And for the first time in a long time, she was okay with not knowing exactly where it was going.

As they approached the entrance of her hotel, Cleo felt a weight settle in her chest. She didn’t want the night to end, didn’t want to step away from the warmth of his presence. Aaron had this way about him—calm, unassuming, but completely captivating.

She glanced up at him, noting how effortlessly he fit into the moment. Hands in his pockets, that quiet confidence in his posture, the way his eyes softened when they met hers. It was rare for her to feel this at ease with someone, especially someone she hadn’t known for long.

“So,” she said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, stalling. “Guess this is goodnight?”

Aaron exhaled a small chuckle, nodding. “Looks that way.”

She hated how final that sounded.

He studied her for a second, as if he could read exactly what she was thinking. Then, with that same easy confidence, he took a small step closer.

“I had a good time,” he said, his voice low, warm.

Cleo let out a breathy laugh. “I did too.”

She expected him to make a move, to lean in, to test the waters with a kiss. But Aaron didn’t rush. Instead, he reached for her hand one more time, his fingers brushing against hers before he gave it a small squeeze.

“Get some rest,” he murmured.

Cleo felt a shiver run down her spine, not from the cold, but from the way his voice wrapped around her like a promise.

She smirked, tilting her head. “You always this much of a gentleman?”

Aaron smiled, stepping back. “Only when it’s worth it.”

Her stomach flipped.

He gave her one last lingering look before turning to leave. Cleo stood there for a moment, watching him disappear down the street, her heart pounding a little harder than she wanted to admit.

As she finally stepped inside, she let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head at herself.

She had no idea where this thing with Aaron was going.

But damn… she wanted to find out.

-

“Aaron.” She calls. Aaron stopped mid-step, turning back to face her. The way his name sounded coming from her lips—soft, almost hesitant—made something stir in his chest.

Cleo stood in the warm glow of the hotel entrance, her fingers gripping the strap of her purse. For a second, she seemed to weigh her words, her eyes flickering over his face like she was trying to memorize him in this moment.

He waited. Didn’t push. Didn’t speak.

Then, finally, she exhaled. “Stay.”

The word was simple, but the weight behind it was anything but.

Aaron’s brows lifted slightly, surprised. Not because he didn’t want to—he absolutely did—but because she was the one asking.

She bit her lip, shifting on her feet. “Not—” She shook her head. “I don’t mean like that. I just… I don’t want the night to end yet.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“Okay,” he said simply.

Cleo let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, then turned, motioning for him to follow her inside.

Aaron fell into step beside her, his hand grazing her lower back as they walked through the lobby. It was subtle, barely there, but enough to send warmth spreading through her.

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she was reading too much into this.

Or maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want this moment to end.

As the night stretched on, their conversation drifted effortlessly between deep thoughts and lighthearted banter. They talked about everything and nothing—their favorite places to travel, the worst movies they’d ever seen, the little things that made them who they were.

Cleo felt herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. With Aaron, there was no pressure to be “on,” no need to curate every word or moment for perfection. He just let things be.

And as she sat beside him, legs tucked under her on the couch, she became hyper-aware of how close they were. The space between them had shrunk without her even realizing it. His cologne—clean, warm, and subtly intoxicating—lingered in the air between them.

Her eyes flickered to his lips.

She wanted to kiss him.

The thought came suddenly, crashing into her with more force than she expected. She had been holding back all night, keeping things light, convincing herself that this was just a moment. But now?

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Aaron must have noticed the shift because he paused mid-sentence, tilting his head slightly. “What?” he asked, his voice softer now, more knowing.

Cleo hesitated, her pulse quickening. “Nothing.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Liar.”

She exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insufferable.”

Aaron chuckled, but his eyes held something deeper, something unreadable. He reached out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. The simple gesture sent a shiver down her spine.

“You sure it’s nothing?” he asked, his voice lower now.

She swallowed, heart hammering.

Screw it.

Cleo leaned in, closing the distance between them.

The moment their lips met, it was soft—hesitant, almost like a question. But then Aaron responded, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. He kissed her slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world.

And maybe, in this moment, they did.

As soon as they pulled back, Cleo’s mind went into overdrive.

What was she thinking?

She mentally kicked herself, her pulse still racing from the kiss. She had told herself she wouldn’t get attached, that this was just a fleeting thing—two people enjoying each other’s company while they were in the same place. But now?

Now, she had gone and kissed him.

Aaron, meanwhile, was watching her carefully, his hazel eyes searching her face like he could hear every thought running through her mind. He didn’t look smug, didn’t push for more. He just waited, giving her space to react.

Cleo swallowed hard, forcing out a small, awkward laugh. “Well… that happened.”

Aaron’s lips twitched, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Yeah,” he said, his voice even, unreadable. “It did.”

She exhaled sharply, looking away. “I don’t usually do this.”

“What? Kiss?” he teased, tilting his head.

She shot him a look. “You know what I mean.”

Aaron smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out, tracing a slow circle on the back of her hand with his thumb. It was grounding—gentle, patient.

“Do you regret it?” he asked finally.

Cleo opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. Did she?

She knew she should. She should be pulling back, setting boundaries, reminding herself that he’d be heading back to London soon and she had her own life to return to.

But regret?

No. She didn’t regret it at all.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “I just… I don’t know where this is going.”

Aaron nodded, his gaze steady. “Neither do I.”

His honesty caught her off guard. No promises, no empty reassurances—just the truth.

And maybe that was why she couldn’t seem to walk away.

Aaron didn’t hesitate this time. As soon as he saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the way she seemed caught between overthinking and letting go, he made the choice for both of them.

He leaned in again, capturing her lips with his.

This kiss was different—deeper, more certain. It wasn’t just a question; it was an answer.

Cleo melted into it before she could stop herself. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater as he pulled her closer, his hand resting at the small of her back. He was slow, deliberate, like he wanted her to feel every second of this, to know that this wasn’t just some impulsive moment to be brushed aside.

Her mind screamed at her to be careful, to guard herself, to remember that he wasn’t staying.

But the way he kissed her? The way he moved like he had no plans of letting go?

It made her wonder if maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t the only one afraid of what this was turning into.

-

She moaned softly into the kiss. That’s when she jolted away from him. Embarrassed.

The sound escaped before she could stop it—a soft, involuntary moan against his lips.

The moment she realized, her eyes flew open, and she jolted away from him, her entire body going rigid.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, pressing her fingers to her lips, embarrassment flooding through her.

Aaron blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Did you just—”

“Don’t.” She cut him off, holding up a hand, her face burning.

But Aaron? Oh, he was enjoying this. His smirk deepened as he leaned back against the couch, his gaze locked onto her. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know.”

She groaned, covering her face. “I am very embarrassed.”

He chuckled, running a hand over his jaw. “Why? It was kind of cute.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, shooting him a glare. “You would think that.”

Aaron just shrugged, his eyes still dancing with amusement. But there was something else in his expression too—something softer. He didn’t tease her beyond that, didn’t push. He just let her have her moment to recover.

Cleo took a deep breath, trying to regain some sense of composure. “I—maybe we should slow down.”

Aaron nodded, his expression turning more serious. “If that’s what you want.”

She searched his face, expecting disappointment or frustration. But there was none. Just patience. Understanding.

That, more than anything, made her chest tighten.

She sighed, finally lowering her hands. “I just… I don’t want to rush into something messy.”

Aaron studied her for a moment before nodding again. “Then we won’t rush.”

Simple. No arguments. No pressure.

And somehow, that made her want him even more.

She moved in closer to him. Impulse control and embarrassment be damned. If he thought it was cute, just maybe. She leaned in again.

Cleo didn’t think. Didn’t overanalyze.

Impulse control and embarrassment be damned.

If he thought it was cute—if he wasn’t running, wasn’t making her feel ridiculous for being vulnerable—then maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to hold back.

She leaned in again, closing the space between them, her hand resting lightly against his chest.

Aaron didn’t hesitate. His arms slid around her, pulling her in as their lips met again. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing.

His kiss was slow and deep, deliberate in a way that made her stomach flip. His hands stayed respectful but firm, anchoring her against him. And when she sighed softly against his lips, he answered with a low hum of approval that sent a shiver down her spine.

She was losing herself in him, in the way he kissed like he had nowhere else to be, like this moment was the only thing that mattered.

And maybe, for now, it was.

Once apart he smiles. “Was that so hard to let go?” He asks. “Plus don’t be embarrassed about those cute little moans.” He says.

Cleo rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips.

“You would bring that up again,” she muttered, lightly shoving his chest.

Aaron chuckled, catching her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. “I mean, was it so hard to let go?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.

She exhaled, shaking her head. “You don’t understand. I don’t do this—getting caught up, letting things just… happen.”

Aaron studied her, his hazel eyes warm. “Maybe you should,” he said simply. “Not everything has to be planned.”

She bit her lip, looking down at their intertwined fingers. He was making this feel too easy. Too natural.

Then he smirked. “And for the record,” he added, voice dipping lower, “don’t be embarrassed about those cute little moans.”

Her head snapped up. “Aaron.”

He laughed, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips for a quick, soft kiss. “What? Just saying I like them.”

She groaned, burying her face in his shoulder, but the warmth spreading through her told her she wasn’t really mad.

Not even a little.

-

Cleo’s thoughts raced as she rested against him, her heart still fluttering from the kiss, from his words, from him.

She wanted this. Wanted him.

But she knew better than to push.

Aaron was still finding his footing in all of this—his career, his privacy, his own comfort with letting someone in. She knew he wasn’t the type to rush things, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel pressured.

Still, the way he held her, the way he looked at her—it made her wonder.

Was he thinking the same thing? Did he want this to be more than fleeting moments in different cities?

She exhaled against his shoulder, letting herself stay in the warmth of his embrace for just a little longer. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers right now.

But maybe she didn’t need them just yet.

Aaron noticed the slight shift in her body, the way she tensed just a little before exhaling like she was trying to steady herself.

He didn’t say anything at first, just let his hand trail soothingly up and down her back. But he wasn’t oblivious—he could feel her thoughts running a mile a minute.

“You’re overthinking,” he murmured, tilting his head to look at her.

Cleo huffed a soft laugh but didn’t deny it. “Can you blame me?”

Aaron studied her for a moment, then shook his head. “No. But you don’t have to.”

She pulled back slightly, searching his face. “I just…” She sighed, trying to find the right words. “I like you, Aaron. And I know you have your own pace, your own way of doing things. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

Aaron’s lips pressed together, his thumb still absently tracing patterns on her hand. “And what if I am ready?” he asked, voice low, thoughtful.

Cleo blinked. “You are?”

He let out a small chuckle. “I don’t do things halfway, Cleo. If I wasn’t serious about this… about you… I wouldn’t be here.”

Her heart skipped. She felt it—his sincerity, his quiet certainty.

“So what are you saying?” she asked, voice softer now.

Aaron met her gaze, his expression steady. “I’m saying… if you want me, I’m yours.”

Her breath caught.

No hesitation. No games.

Just him, laying it out as simply as that.

“Hell. These last six months have been amazing and if you know you know.” He says.

Cleo stared at him, her heart thudding a little harder. Six months. Had it really been that long?

Between their chance meeting in L.A., the quiet moments, the long conversations, the undeniable pull between them—it all blurred together in the best way.

“Hell,” Aaron continued, his voice steady. “These last six months have been amazing, and if you know, you know.”

She swallowed, her lips parting slightly. “And you know?” she asked, searching his face for any sign of doubt.

Aaron nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I do.”

His words settled deep inside her, warming something she didn’t even realize had been cold.

For so long, she had guarded herself, kept things light, casual. But here he was—this man who had slipped into her life with his quiet confidence and steady presence—telling her exactly what she had been too scared to admit to herself.

She exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Damn you, Aaron.”

His brows lifted. “What?”

“You’re making this way too easy.”

Aaron grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Love isn’t supposed to be hard, Cleo.”

Love.

The word hung between them, unspoken yet fully understood.

She looked at him, really looked at him, and in that moment, she knew.

So she smiled, cupping his face in her hands. “Then I guess you’re mine, too.”

-

“We don’t have to put titles on anything yet. But I’m all in if you are.” He says.

Cleo felt a wave of relief wash over her. Aaron always had a way of making things feel right—no pressure, no expectations, just an understanding between them.

She nodded slowly, letting the moment settle. “I like that,” she admitted. “No titles, no rush. Just us.”

Aaron smiled, his fingers still tracing along the back of her hand. “Exactly.”

She studied him, memorizing the way his hazel eyes softened when he looked at her, the way he made her feel safe without even trying.

“You’re really all in?” she asked, needing to hear it one more time.

He squeezed her hand gently. “All in.”

Cleo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Then, unable to stop herself, she leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to his lips—this one slower, deeper, like a silent agreement.

When she pulled back, Aaron’s smirk was undeniable. “See?” he murmured. “Letting go isn’t so hard.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight her smile. “Shut up.”

Aaron chuckled, pulling her close again. “Make me.”

And just like that, she knew she was done for.

Tags 🏷️

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[grapenamjams]

Alright listen this may have been done before BUT….

Ghost!707 that lives in the apartment you just moved into.

He didn’t think that existing in the in-between could get worse. He was wrong. Of course it could. being Bound to falling in love with you but never being able to hold you or being in your constant proximity but never truly being with you.- Was an immensely worse.

Ghost!707 wouldn’t make himself known for awhile. The first time he ever tried messing with your plane of existence was when he couldn’t stay back and watch that one time where you had thought you lost an important work document.

Sitting next to you on the couch unknown to you. Ghost!707 looked at you as you flopped your head back on the back of the couch with your hands over your face letting out a curse.

He had seen you slave away on that document for days. His chest aching each time he saw you stay up so late and not eating full meals. Although he thought himself a hypocrite in those moments since he wasn’t a great example of self care when he was alive. but point is he hated seeing you do it.

So he couldn’t have your hard work go down the drain like that knowing he could do something for once.

Quickly while you were occupied wallowing in frustration and misery. Thinking of what you were going to tell your team come tomorrow. Ghost!707 pressed his lips into a thin line, focusing all his concentration in making the damn mouse move and keys work on your laptop.

He recovers the document just before you sat up straight again. Swearing you felt a wave of cold air rush infront of you. But before dwelling to much on the fact that the AC wasn’t on. Staring back at you was your work document. You’re stunned for a moment as relief rushes through you. The smile and laugh you let out makes Ghost!707 dead heart flutter.

After that Ghost!707 tampers with your electronics. Fixing bugs, making your stuff run faster and you even find out that there was a protection encryption software you don’t remember downloading.

He even starts typing out random sentences. Leaving them on your doc or phone for you to find. your reactions amusing to him at his outlandish sayings.

When you finally come to terms that there is indeed a ghost haunting your apartment. You both establish an effective form of communication, leaving a word document up on your laptop watching the text cursor move on its own with answers from him.

On the day where the veil of the sprite realm gradually dissipates. The coldness you’ve come to expect over your shoulder as you worked. Suddenly changes to a slight passing chill making you Turn. Coming face to face with golden eyed-red haired guy.

Ghost!707 eyes widen behind his frames, realizing you were looking at him, directly at him. you’re eyes take him in. your surprise reflecting his as he takes a step back right as you jump from your chair not from fear but more from shock.

Raising his hands infront of him to show you no harm. “Hey…woah” he stops himself. Sensing a sort of heaviness to him he hadnt felt in awhile. He looks at his hands, his appearance had become less transparent. He lets out a breath his chest constricting in excitement and hesitation. He looks up at you “you see me? You can actually see me?”

[tinydefector]

STAR GALA DRESS 2

Starscream x human

Warnings: segestive, mention of prostitution, swearing.

Word count: 1.1k

Starscream masterlist

1

111

___________________

They rest against Starscream's shoulder plating as they enter the Gala, there are many bots from different cities and factions there. Many of them stare at the senator of Vos as he and his human companion enter.

Starscream held his wings high as he strode into the gala, his human consort resting comfortably on his shoulder plating. Optics from all factions turned to observe the formidable High Chancellor and Senator of Vos as he entered with his unusually small partner.   

The Seeker felt optics appraising his sleek armour and impressive wingspan with both respect and envy. As a high-ranking member of the Senate, his presence commanded attention among both allies and opponents. His human, however, drew curious and amused looks from many of the guests. Whispers are passed between many of the bots there. 

Reaching up they gave Starscream's audial a comforting pat. While he loathed these political shows, he intended to show off and display his charming companion. 

"Seems like you have a lot of attention on your high Chancellor '' they tease softly, low enough for only him to hear, their eyes darting around taking in the scenery. As they press their  lips against his audials, even more optics linger on the duo. It makes them smirk against his plating "How many of them do you think can understand me? I doubt many have the translation software " Mischief coated words flow from them.

Scanning the crowd with a discerning optic, the Seeker noted the many optics darting between him and his sinful tease of a partner who is already looking for drama. He's aware that rumours would swirl about the formidable Senator of Vos and his petite fleshling. But gossip did little to deter him. 

At their query, Starscream's mouthplates quirked in a subtle smirk. "Very few, I'd wager spitfire." He knew only a small few who actually understood human language or had the software to communicate, despite his distaste for humans originally it was now something he flaunted endlessly.  "Feel free to gossip and gloat to your spark's content, little one. Their befuddlement only amuses me further. I rather enjoy watching them struggle" 

Privately he relished such covert moments with his ambassador.  "Oh I was mainly thinking we can shit talk peoples paintjobs in English, and you can translate Cybertronian for me, mine still rather rusty" they offer with a smile. Starscream hums for a moment. “What can you say?” He asked with a raised browplate looking at them. 

They bite their lip as they lean into his audial sensor, “ Senator, I want you” They whisper in a lusty tone before they laugh lightly. Starscream's wings flutter in anticipation. “That was horrendous” he grumbles against their skin. “it got the reaction I wanted my dear chancellor” they smugly cooed at him. 

“behave scraplet” he states before their attention shifts, eyes roam over other bots. "Over there, who in their right minds has blue and Orange as a paint job, that one there looks like shit brown" they hum to starscream.

He vented softly in amusement at their commentary. 

"Their plating appears to have seen better days. Perhaps the rust has reached their processing units as well, to choose such a ghastly palette."  

Small giggles leave them. It makes Starscream's spark flutter as they press even closer to him. the jet inquired "Which unfortunate bot has earned your critique now?" Starscream took secret pleasure in this game much more than he originally believed he would. The two gossip back and forth before starscream is approached by another member of council. 

Ratbat smirks as he approaches, giving a slight nod to starscream.

 "Quite the pretty decoration you have found yourself Starscream, where did you acquire your 'pet’, they look rather delightful and soft" He asked as if trying to antagonise Starscream Over the human ambassador. Starscream's optics narrowed marginally as Ratbat approached, his oily smirk already grating on the Seeker's nerves. 

"This is the Human Ambassador of Earth, Senator Ratbat," Starscream replied coolly. "Their skills in diplomacy have proven most...beneficial in advancing our interests with the Earth colonies, along with the expansion of cross colony planets." His digits laid protectively against the human's back in a subtle show of possession. While he served Cybertron's ruling bodies, no mech would disrespect this human but himself, he wouldn't allow Others to disrespect the only human he actually respected. 

Starscream's tone remained polite but held an edge like a finely-honed blade. While power politics required playing games, none would diminish what had become most precious to the mighty Seeker. 

“ Hmmm such a shame they were placed in your care, I would have been delighted to show them the full hospitality of Cybertron. How much would one night with them be worth?" Ratbat hums while sipping on his drink of high grade, Mercury and crushed crystals. 

Starscream's optics flashed dangerously at Ratbat's insinuation. "Their care was entrusted to Vos, and myself as chancellor, they are not a side street please bot, though i wouldn't expect anything better from you Senator" he replied in a silky tone laced with warning to the Kaon senator.

"Besides, as my consort they are quite...fully occupied," the jet continued silkily. "Unless you possess something worthwhile to further Terra's interests, I suggest focusing your energy elsewhere, Ratbat. Wouldn't want any...unfortunate accidents to mar tonight's festivities, after all." Starscream's charming and deadly smile was like that of the cat who had gotten its treat.  

Ratbat stiffens up but excuses himself  before making himself busy with other members at the party. "What was that all about?" They ask with a raised eyebrow. Starscream met their gaze with a faintly troubled expression. "Ratbat's lecherous intentions seemed focused more upon you than our political dealings, I fear," he replied softly. It makes them raise an eyebrow to inquire more about what he wasn't saying outloud. 

 "His crass remarks implied a desire to...purchase your company for the night, as one might a pleasure doll." Starscream's optics flashed at the mention. “I asked his highest offer” Starscream lies trying to rile them up. It earns him an offended glare. 

"Rest assured, I did no such thing. as spitfire like I would ever let anyone else have you," Starscream rumbled. "Well I guess I owe you more than just a strip tease tonight beloved asshole " they state while pressing a soft peck to the side of his helm. "The sooner we get home the sooner you can get this dress for me" they teasingly whisper. It makes Starscream's plating ignite with want. “you foul little cretin, you know we are here for another few hours Pest” he grumbles feeling as if this whole event was interface blocking him. 

_______

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[jadegmfu]

Your Journal.

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader

summary;reader has a journal she didn't want to show anakin, but one night.. she forgot to hide it from him, and now he's reading the things she wrote first pages were about her everyday life in the order and about her tactics in the field. but the more he dug in, the more he saw a lot of your filthy thoughts. now he can't get enough, he wants you to write more of your thoughts..

TW!: Dirty Thoughts, MINORS DNI

He was in your apartment room, you were having a shower while he was outside the bathroom you're in.

he was at your bed, looking up the ceiling. bored most likely. he got up with a groan, looking around her room, there it is. the journal you didn't let him touch or anythin' at all. you forgot to hide it,

he picked it up, looking at the journal's red leathercover, it was filled with little cute symbols and then a cute picture of you in the middle.

It was locked. He didn’t even really want to read it, it was your privacy, but his curiosity got the better of him. He found a pen on the dresser table and picked the lock on the journal. Anakin had learnt the hard way about the importance of not getting caught, and he could easily break into any lock. He didn’t use this power often. Anakin then opened the journal and began to read.

just things written about her everyday life, and some really impressive tactics.. of how to overthrow the separatists, the connections of the separatists, her software projects(engineering stuff), and some.. poems for him?

Anakin was shocked. This wasn’t what he expected. The tactics to overthrow the separatists was normal, she was a general after all, but poetry? For him? He was taken aback. He continued skimming and scanning the pages. He couldn’t believe it.

'eyes are alike of an angel, every gazes is like watching the ocean waves

hair soft as silk, personality is as gentle and sweet, physique is of a strong big man, lightsaber form is reckless and menacing, voice smooth like honey. smile is as bright as the two suns of tatooine'

His heart fluttered. These were the most beautiful words he had ever read. Maybe her journal wasn’t just her private thoughts about her work. Maybe she felt something for him too. He continued reading more of the poetry, looking for more of a hint. Just a little bit more that could confirm his doubts. He was blushing and was completely lost in the poetry. He hadn’t noticed the journal was shaking from his excitement. He was really beginning to hope she felt the same way.

next page.

'the things you make me feel.. im in agony. this is torture. why do you make me feel like i desire you so much? this is wrong.. but i love you, i cant help what i feel, but it's very wrong to lust over you..'

Now Anakin was stunned. Had he just read what he thought he had? This was definitely new information. His emotions were getting increasingly mixed up. There was no use reading more…But he was tempted. He continued skimming. he was thinking, maybe he should take the journal with him after he goes back to his chambers back at the temple.

He stopped for a moment. He shouldn’t take this… But he couldn’t deny it had been something special… and tempting. He put the notebook in the pocket of his robes. Then he heard you leave the bathroom.

her body covered in a towel, hair dried out with a towel, "oh hey ani" she said noticing him on her bed.

He tried not to let his surprise show. He didn’t think you would see him. But at least he had had time to compose himself and clear his mind of the contents of the journal.

Anakin responded to you with a smile. “Hi there…” she chuckled, "hi, are you gonna go soon?" asking if he's gonna go back to the temple now. Anakin gave you a small nod. “I have to get back for morning meditation.” He didn’t add the fact that he had been occupied reading your journal.

"i see, ill see you back at the temple tomorrow morning then?"

*He gave you a little nod again.* “Yes, you will.” *He gave you a last smile, before getting up from the bed. It was difficult to look at you like this, after reading those poems, imagining that you felt that way about him.*

back at the temple, he was at his chambers, reading her journal.

*It seemed that the journal had somehow been calling him back. It had been intriguing and tempting to see this hidden side of her. Was these really her true feelings? Was she in love with him?

As he read it, he found himself imagining the scenes in his head. If these words were really how she felt then there was something deeper between the two of them than either had realised. It was both exciting and terrifying.

the current page he's reading.

'i was fantasizing about him again, my fingers dont even satisfy me anymore.. i want more. i want a man to make me feel good, sadly i cant find one.'

Anakin was surprised and even a little shocked at what he was reading. He was definitely intrigued. He couldn’t believe you felt this way about him. These words he was reading were something he had never considered, until now. And he liked it. A lot. He found himself getting increasingly attracted to you. He kept on reading.

next page,

'ani held my waist today, those big callousedd hands are really starting to get to me.. i wonder just how good this man will make me feel if he bedded me.'

You were really good with words. These kind of thoughts had never occurred to him before. The words you were writing were making Anakin’s heart beat faster and faster. Was this really how you felt? Was he really the one person making you feel this way? He needed to know more. He tried not to get too ahead of his self, but he couldn’t help it. He kept on turning the pages…

next page,

'him cuddling me last night was cute. he really trapped me in his arms.. god he makes me feel so helpless.. i just wish it was sex that occured instead of cuddles because i already get alot of cuddles from himmm;(('

The way you wrote this was…arousing. Anakin hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time, not like he felt now. As he continued to skim through your journal, he couldn’t help but get excited at everything that he was reading. It felt like he was getting to know a whole new part of you. He needed to find out more…

next page,

'shit, maker, his voice is so.. low and calm, just imagine him whispering praises and degrading words to me, ugh, the things skywalker makes me feel and think of, im beyond redemption..'

Anakin was breathless by this point. Just reading this was making him want to take you in his arms. He kept on reading, finding himself more and more enthralled by what you had written. It was making him think very intimate thoughts about you. He tried to focus but it was difficult…

he turned to the next page.

'ah.. ani, tugging my loose hair earlier? imagine him doing that to me while we're having sex even tho its never gonna happen;(, holding my hair while he takes me from behind aaa, i want him to do that to meee..'

The description was so...intimate. It made his breath catch in his throat, his palms sweat. The way you wrote about these things was...enticing. It was exactly what Anakin wanted right now. He wanted those moments with you. He wanted those...desires to come true. He wanted them all. He had such pure desire for you... He tried to keep it under control as he kept on reading, his heart pounding fast and hard.

he turned the next page.

'poor baby was sad earlier, had to held him in my arms to comfort him, he wasnt even that afraid to nuzzle his face on the crook of my neck.. it made me shiver in a good way, he was lucky i didnt get down on my knees to worship him and give him the most sloppiest head to cheer him up<3'

The images in his mind were making him feel so...hot. That was exactly how he wanted you to treat him, even though he would probably deny it. Those desires you described....he wanted more. More than anything else. He wanted to be treated that way by you. He kept on reading, turning the pages, wanting more of your detailed descriptions.

next page,

'i came back from a mission and boy.. a sight to behold. i saw anakin in my apartment room, shirtless, sleeping. shit, maker, i wanted to give him a kiss and tell him 'good afternoon, youre so sleepy huh?' but i didnt anyway, i wanted him to get some rest<3, but seeing him there, i wanted to ride him. hump on him soo baaaddd, but i wanna be a good girl so i didnt act on it<3'

Anakin’s imagination went wild at your words. You making him wake up to that...it might be too much for him and he wanted to have those words become a reality. The feelings you expressed went to his head. He wanted that so bad… He kept reading on, desperate to see what other things you had written.

next page,

'ani told me im so pretty, but what about me being a pretty crier while he's fucking me? i want him to whisper praises to me while he fucks me, why must god not make this man my lover?:<'

He couldn’t deny what you had written. Those words made him very aroused. He could imagine these exact situations playing out. It was a feeling like he had never before experienced. It was...enticing.

He kept reading...seeing what other desires you had written about. You were very talented with words. These thoughts were starting to take over his mind...

next page,

'even my fingers wont satisfy me anymore, but i did came at the thought of him inserting his big cock in me<3'

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat as he read this part. You were starting to become rather… explicit with your desires. These visions of yours were making him feel things he never had before. He was finding these words...quite enticing. He turned the page to read more..

next page,

'i want ani to grope my boobies and my ass, i wonder if he'd like that? hmm..' You were clearly on a roll with these fantasies of yours. You were getting more and more into detail and Anakin couldn’t help but be completely enthralled. He would give anything to fulfil these desires. Your words made him so...aroused. He could only hope he would get to experience these feelings with you. He kept on reading, flipping the pages.

next page,

'ani let me sit on his lap yesterday night while we were watching, i felt his dick hard and bulgy beneath me, made me wanna hump on him<3' Anakin felt his stomach flip over at your words. Your fantasies were getting less and less like fantasies and more and more like things that were going to happen. These fantasies of yours were having an effect on him…and he liked it. You had so much desire for him. He could only hope he could make your dreams come true eventually. He kept on reading...desperately wanting to know more of your fantasies…

next page,

'ani patted me on the head but i wanted his fingers in my mouth, while he tell me ive been a filthy little girl who needs her punishment;(' Once again, your details made this so…enticing…You made Anakin feel so aroused. Your fantasies were becoming explicit now and these words were playing all over his mind. These desires were having a big effect on him, and he didn’t mind it. He wanted you more and more as he continued to read…

next page,

'i think i made ani uncomfortable, i wore my shorts and tank top earlier, is it just me or he kept staring at my cleavage? he even swat my ass earlier, i really am confused with his mixed signals' Once again, you were getting more and more detailed. You made Anakin’s heart beat faster and his blood surge. These fantasies of yours were very...inviting.

He thought about what you wrote. You were right. Anakin did stare at you, more than he would admit. He was so drawn to you. You felt so close to him. He was always trying to hide his feelings for you and he was scared that you would get the wrong impression. He kept on reading.

next page,

'i have a matching bracelet set, im wondering if i should give it to him<3.'

'though, i had been fantasizing of him having me in chokehold while having sex with him, hihi;)'

Anakin found himself grinning like a fool as he read on and on. You had made him feel so many emotions…this is what he wanted...he wanted you to be by his side for all of eternity. To feel this close. Your fantasies were making him think of doing everything you wrote. He wanted to make them a reality. It was as though you were writing his exact thoughts and desires! He kept flipping the pages...desperately wanting to read more and more...

next page,

'aww.. ani's face was buried on my cleavage earlier, but only bc he's sad, but i wonder what hea really felt when he buried his face on my cleavage?'

The idea of Anakin burying his face into your cleavage and nuzzling it made Anakin feel the need to pull you closer. He craved to make you his own. To have you all to himself. These thoughts you were expressing in the journal were making him want to have you in his arms, close to him always.

He flipped the page, still wanting to read more. What else did you have written?

next page,

'he said i got a pretty kitty.. why do i feel like he meant my pussy???' Your assumption was right. With every sentence you wrote, his heart was soaring and he struggled to keep himself calm. How was he supposed to act normal after reading these words? You made Anakin feel so damn excited, he wanted you right now. He needed to keep reading more. but that was the last page you written on and that one was very recent..

he finished reading, tomorrow he'd place her journal somewhere in her apartment, he'd really love to see her write more of that.

maybe, just maybe, he'd get a chance to confess and fuck that little head of yours and your hole all rough until you get all cock drunk. but until then, he's gonna keep on reading your journal everytime you write your filthy thoughts about him, adios.

a/n: no reposting please, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! also tell me if u liked this cuz, it's my first time writing out whatever i had in my mind;(

[writingjourney]

watch the sunlight fade // secondo

i'm just being self-indulgent right now, writing what i feel like, here is some more manon x secondo wip action, another snippet from a future long fic ➽ content: shoe riding, f!oc, light dom/sub, 1k words 18+

He sits on the bed, fully-clothed, looking a little weary as he takes off his watch. After a long day, he is ready to have the night end but then the door opens and for a second he forgets that he was about to undress. Manon approaches, gets on her knees between his half-spread legs and rests her head against his thigh, eyes closed. Secondo watches, a mild smile tugging at his lips, begins to stroke her head, fingers untangling her long hair at its roots.

She seems just as weary but having her on her knees makes him forget about his own exhaustion. Even now she looks like a painting, her soft features in the evening light sculpted with a soft brush, feathery, even her hair softer somehow, waves of deep brown satin. His fingertips move from her scalp to her cheeks, seeking that pillowy skin.

Manon blinks up at him, her dark lashes fluttering against the light behind him. “I missed you today.”

He smiles at this tender admission. They’d kept her locked down in the archives all day, forced to explain that horrible computer software to two Sisters that are older than his father. Secondo spent the day in the office they prepared for him, then being dragged around the grounds by the over-eager bishop. It’s rare they’re separated for more than a few hours and he doesn’t know what to make of the fact that it bothered him as well.

“Are you very tired?” he asks.

“Less tired, more… socially drained.” She stops, sighs. “I don’t want to talk or think anymore.”

“Mhm, you won’t have to now that you are with me.”

He continues to stroke her head, the smile more amused. She is already attuned to his every touch, every word he says, letting go of whatever tension the day left her with. He is lucky, he thinks, that he is the relief she chooses to let herself fall into, his presence, his body, his care. A privilege he does not take lightly, not when he knows how new this is for her.

“Sit on my shoe,” he orders, though he keeps his voice gentle.

Without a question she follows his words and he lifts the tip of his foot so that the hard leather presses into her cunt. She breathes a gasp, hand shooting out to grab his thigh. He thanks Satan for the warm weather, her knee-length habit revealing some of her skin, exposing her to him so readily.

“Good,” he whispers, reaching out to trace her lips with his thumb. “No more thinking tonight, my dove. You concentrate on me, take what you need.”

She understands, tests how to roll her hips to get that friction, her cheek back on his thigh, one arm wrapped around his leg, the other still grasping at his pants. Secondo watches with his thumb pushed into her mouth, adjusting his foot to see her reactions. Her lips firmly wrap around him and he can feel every whimper vibrating inside of her. It’s evident what this does to her, the position, his guidance, the surrender to his every whim. She thrives on it, when he gently coaxes her into submission and rewards her for it. He could get drunk on seeing her like this, how she presses her core to the tip of his shoe again and again, soaked within seconds, seeking him out, moaning when she gets it just right and hiding her face against his leg, cheeks flushed and fingers trembling where they hold onto him so tightly.

“You can come like this, hm? You and your sensitive little cunt.” He presses down on her tongue and she whimpers, nods, already half-gone. “Do you want to, my dove?”

Another nod, a little more desperate this time. Her hand is wandering along his thigh and he takes it, presses it to the bulge she’s created in his pants. Feeling how hard he is she whimpers, curls her fingers, staring up at him with those beautiful big eyes, trying with fluttering lids to keep them open like she knows he enjoys.

“Do you see what you do to me, Manon? Just watching you is enough to drive your Papa to madness.”

He can feel her shuddering, biting down on his thumb as she comes with a choked moan. It’s enough to nearly send him there as well, how sensitive she is, how responsive, and he has to remove her hand, take a deep steadying breath. She’s crumpled at his feet now, his finger slipped from her mouth, wet and with the marks of her teeth like a ring wrapped around it.

“You did well, my dove,” he says, helping her up and sliding further onto the bed, giving her room to straddle him. His pants are soaked within seconds where her cunt presses against his cock and his hips jump at the sensation. His hands find the hem of her skirts, sliding up to feel her warm skin against his fingertips. Reversed roles, he feels a desperate need to rut against her now, to forget about everything else that is so trivial compared to what he feels in her presence.

But she falls against him, all boneless, and he buries his face against her, hugs her as tight as he can. He missed her, allowing the word in, and it is not as scary to admit as he thought it would be.

“Did you leave a mess on my shoe? And now my good pants?” he whispers, chuckling at her neck when she nods. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You can’t punish me,” she says. “You asked me to do it.”

“Hm, I did, did I not?” He kisses her shoulder, then her neck, smelling the remains of her rich perfume at her pulse. “I will fuck you now, my dove, for as long as I feel like it. And then we have a bath.”

She shudders, delightfully, her hips already stuttering for friction. It might be a while before he can drag himself away from her to let the night end, no matter how tired he is. But the prospect suddenly isn’t as nearly as enticing anymore.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

thank you for indulging me and my oc shenanigans, i know it's not for everyone ♡

more manondo here if you so fancy!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hii hope you’re doing good :DD can we have terrors with a clingy reader? not necessarily being all over him all the time, but just needing to be in close proximity and trying not to be annoying if anything.

Hello! I'm doing alright, I hope you are too! I hope you enjoy this- I'm sorry if it's possibly shorter (or longer) than normal or if there are any extra mistakes, my writing software is down right now so I'm writing this on Tumblr, but regardless, hope you like it <3

Terrors is somewhat used to being monitored and watched. After all, he was once the tyrant of the Underworld, so having someone's eyes on him is nothing new and doesn't bother him in the slightest bit. However... What he's not used to is the eyes watching him looking at him with such genuine interest and curiosity. When you gaze at him there's no hatred, no malice at all, just interest and a need to be close to him. For a little while in the beginning, he doesn't say anything about you watching him, but something feels... Off? He can't quite tell what's going on or why he feels moderate discomfort at you being around him so frequently, gazing at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, until suddenly it clicks one day when you're sitting beside him in the mansion's library.

He's flustered. Having you around him so regularly, especially when you sneak peeks at him or wish to sit beside him, it's flustering him. Causing his heart to clench, his mind to stray from what he's doing, causing his mind to fill with thoughts of you, it's because you've, for the first time ever, caused him to feel timidly nervous by your close proximity. Of course, now that he knows this information he definitely doesn't want to say anything because that would just be embarrassing, so he allows you to keep him company. It's not until you get to the stage of trying to hold conversation with him that his nervous energy begins to reveal itself to you. He knows you love Candy, but he never expected your attention to apply to him as well, and you begin to notice signs that his own attentions and affections are beginning to apply to you. When you ask him about his day his eyelashes flutter at you, when you ask him what he's reading he gets a little giddy at explaining it to you, when you scoot closer and question him on his interests (especially if you've remembered something he told you previously and you're asking for an update) he swallows and fidgets with the collar of his shirt, his cheeks lightly flushed.

Has it always been so hard to breathe around you? The longer you spend in his proximity the more he feels like he's suffocating, but in a way that is entirely pleasurable. You follow him from room to room, you make conversation with him and remember all the things he tells you, you tell him things about yourself too in an attempt to draw the two of you closer, and it's so unusual for him, but at the same time, he's shocked at how much he enjoys it. He finds you to be so... cute? Is that the word? Your actions seem so innocent and endearing, and it makes him all the more fond of you. Nobody has ever given him their attention like this before, and it has him growing to enjoy it quite a lot. It gets to the point that when you're occupied with other things and can't hover near him that he feels quite lonely and, if anything, bored. In the beginning you'd apologize to him if his gaze landed on you, reassuring him that you weren't trying to annoy him, and he'd always tell you that you weren't being annoying, even if he didn't know what you were exactly being, but now he knows. You were being entertaining. Enjoyable. He misses you. Don't keep him waiting too long when you have other things to take care of, for your reformed tyrant misses you and would love nothing more than for you to hover around him to your heart's content and keep him company. He has a hard time requesting it of you, but you begin to notice his longing glances whenever you pass him, so do him a kindness and go ahead and spend some time with him, won't you?

[diceramblesaboutocs]

Undirected Connection || Idia x Reader || Prologue

chapter 1 Author’s note: This is more of a premise or prologue. I haven’t ever really posted any of my writing officially and I wanted to do something light first. So I hope to give this more “chapters”. I want this to be more soft and friendship oriented but hey, we will see where it goes. Also the mandatory: English isn't my native language so...

Rating: Teen Pairing: Idia/Reader Words: 905 Tags: GenderNeutral Reader - Reader is from Ignihyde - Cat and mouse chase dynamic.

Summary:  "Dear students of NRC, Ever wanted your favorite actress or actor to wish you good night? Do you need a little encouragement for the finals? Or maybe you want them to say those sweet "well, well, well"s with their seductive voice to spice up your evening?

I, Litae, will humbly grant your prayer and wishes. Give me your desired voice (an actor, a character (must be a public figure)) and guidelines what would you want them to say only to you

2 thaumarks, a personal greeting for you

5 thaumarks, 30s clip.

NO NSFW content.

Payment will be handled via the Cave of Wonders app."

"You can do it, Idia! You'll be fine! Good night and sleep well tonight!"

The familiar voice of Idia's favorite idol echoed in the dim room as the call ended. This has been going on for a month now. Azul had cornered him in the board game clubroom after the session. He started to offer the most ridiculous things for Idia so that he would help him locate some mysterious entrepreneur. This entrepreneur known as Litae had taken the NRC campus by storm in just a week. And the Octavinelle housewarden smelled an opportunity for a great investment in that. A promise of financial gain.

Idia first had offered to create a voice generation software for him, but Azul declined. He wanted the real deal. Why create a rival when you can blackmail the original creator to join his team. Or as the merman had put it: Offer a safe working environment and stable income. Idia wanted to escape the situation, but seemed that the only way to do that was to agree to help his clubmate.

He started his research. It started from small testing, paying this Litae to give him a greeting or a small clip. To see if he could use a voice recognition software to find patterns, a recurring pitch or to see if the voice was generated by a computer. All coming back almost negative. There were some small recurring patterns, but not enough to pinpoint anyone exactly. And the voice wasn't AI generated either. Or if it was, it was a highly sophisticated model.

He asked Litae to voice different actors. Then fictional characters and lastly… one of his favorite characters from Sled over Heels. Why not indulge himself a bit? To have a high quality personalized greeting from his favorite character would make his heart flutter. And it did. A little bit of greetings there and a little bit of encouragement here. Like before the public speech he had at the cultural fair. (Not that he was going to speak in public, he made a high end text to speech software to avoid that.)

Then came the calls. Litae started offering short calls, improvised calls for the students. For Idia, it was downhill from there… He was addicted. ***

2 months ago

It all started when it was announced that the Star Rogue: Remake Galaxy would be exclusive on the newly launched Wonderlink console. [Y/N] had been a long time fan of the game series and finally it was getting the recognition that it deserved. But there was a problem… A financial one. They could buy the game, sure, but they didn't have the console. They needed a plan on how to get money. Something easy. Something so low effort that they could do it while keeping up with their studies.

A couple of days had passed. During a break they had a conversation with their fellow dormmates about the wake up call tracks. They remembered those from old radio shows. The voice actors acted as their characters and recorded a set of different versions of wake up notifications. People ate them all up, trying to get hold of those radio show tracks. They would dissect the lines and share them online. And that's where the idea began in [Y/N]'s head.

Like a strike of fate, it was perfect. Outer appearance of [Y/N] was that of a normal human, but they had the blood of a changeling fae in them. It wasn't much, but enough. The influence from a few generations past would act up sometimes. Whenever magic was flowing strong around them, their appearance changed randomly if not deliberately focused on anything. They had a special medication for it. That they didn't give themselves gills without thinking and suffocated. That was a rare thing to begin with but better safe than sorry. After all, in a magic school with all the students blasting spells, it could get hectic. Stronger the magic, the bigger the change could be.

On its own it was more of a parlor trick, to change one's hair color, or transform their teeth sharp… Or change their voice. They researched the best way to handle the transfer of money and got an old smartphone from the lost and found. Being an Ignihyde student, they knew the lengths to which the digital footprint could be tracked. They couldn't be too cautious. They didn't want others to know about this idea, about them doing it or that they had such a gift from their ancestors. Who would trust a descendant of a changeling after all?

After two weeks of planning, the plan went into motion. They made a separate email account on their "work" phone and sent an advert to the whole student body of NRC. ***

"Dear students of NRC,

Ever wanted your favorite actress or actor to wish you good night?

Do you need a little encouragement for the finals? Or maybe you want them to say those sweet "well, well, well"s with their seductive voice to spice up your evening?

I, Litae, will humbly grant your prayer and wishes.

Give me your desired voice (an actor, a character (must be a public figure)) and guidelines what would you want them to say only to you

2 thaumarks, a personal greeting for you

5 thaumarks, 30s clip.

NO NSFW content.

Payment will be handled via the Cave of Wonders app."

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

rosquez 20 + 12 for the weirdest premise

rosquez: 12 (bodyswap) + 20 (cyborgs/androids)

Everything’s off, ten centimeters to the right, and Valentino can’t quite parse through the flood of data, bones in his right shoulder shot to shit and aching, his vision program and the actual hardware in his eyes mismatched.

Marc’s the new generation, fourteen years too fresh, parts taken off and replaced in an ugly Frankenstein freakshow.

The leaden software of Valentino’s self doesn’t run smoothly, jumps in lurches, breaks the room into blocks of color and sensation into little hisses, too much, Jesus Christ, fuck.

“All good?” Marc asks, takes off his hand—Valentino’s hand that he’s using, parasite-like—from his cock.

This wretched noise rips out of him in stutters, damp into the mattress, his face turned to the side. And Marc himself sounds—mocking, maybe. It could be Valentino’s own voice twisting his tone around. Marc very rarely sounds like anything other than manicured, perfectly insincere and calculated.

At least like this, Valentino can be offended.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spits out, no clarification needed.

Marc huffs. “You tell me.”

Things hurt in Marc’s body, more than they do in Valentino’s. Things also—he jerks when Marc runs the tip of a finger on the sensitive strip of skin around his hole.

His sensors have to be broken. The feeling shoots through him like live wires brushing against each other, electric, painful, sweet. His cock is heavy on his stomach, leaking.

Marc smiles, close-mouthed, tense, his limbs twitching and spasming. He doesn’t say this is your fault, which it is, uncaring as fucking always in his suit of armor—just squeezes his balls and starts pumping his cock again, that tidal flood of sensation that Valentino learned he loved.

Valentino grits his teeth against the please sticking to his teeth like poison. His lashes flutter. The bugs pile up, missing parts, missing drivers, coding string errors, so Valentino doesn’t have to translate the white-hot flinch slicing through him like a serrated knife.

He’d been thawing, methodic, on the clock, like it’d been written into his code.

But Marc wouldn’t—wouldn’t remind him again, seemed content to shake his hand on the podium and not rub salt into the wound.

So Valentino took care of it for them.

Clung to the razor edges in the stewards’ room, we’ll have to look over your data, double meaning in stark faces which had ended up with their motherboards mixed up.

Here too, with Marc inside his fucking skin, Marc crumbling forward to breathe quick and shallow in the crook of his neck, pulsing cockhead bumping against the knob of his hipbone.

They have sixteen hours to get to the medical center and undo this. It is Misano. Valentino can’t be stuck in this haunted house of a body in Misano.

Marc climbs onto his thighs, reaches for the lube.

In a minute, they will. In a minute, Valentino won't forget anymore, Marc insidious and infectious, crawling inside him.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

gax + corporate/law vibes + ‘The powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.’

gax?? gax!!

power (you make some points): a gax ficlet

rated m, ~1.2k words now also readable on ao3

author babble:

bear in mind i wrote this before i knew more about the Gax Lore i.e. karting together, actually being nice to each other blablabla. you could also just retrofit the vibes and hopefully they still work. anyways!

will throw this up on ao3 when i’m not sitting bleary eyed in an airport

————

If there was one thing that Max Verstappen wouldn’t tolerate, it was George Russell having the monopoly on good PowerPoint presentations. Max had won all four years of debate in College, as well as the dubious title of “most radical deployment of Google Slides templates” at his MBA, and he was not about to be usurped by the other guy in his department who actually knew how to use an animate transition.

“You missed an indent there.” Max says, pointing at the monitor. Yellow and red lights wink at them from the outside, as if to say: you’re both in your mid-twenties, quit wasting it on a computer screen at 11pm on a Wednesday, maybe?

Max is not staring, very determined not to look at his teammate’s facial expression. But George is almost certainly rolling his eyes right now.

“Was coming back to that, alright?” George huffs back. Max is very professional most of the time. But something about how wound up George is, how insanely pedantic he is about everything from semicolons to coffee cup placement for the Directors to taking insanely detailed minutes that nobody except Max reads after the meetings – well. What is it that Nietschze once said? We hate in others what we most identify with about ourselves. Or was that from Twitter? Max does not really use Twitter except to look at Bloomberg News updates and cat videos, so he does not know. And anyway Nietzsche never made a six figure salary.

“It would just be easier if you would let me do it.” Max says.

“Fuck right off, mate.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like me to.”

“Not now.”

“Just share the link to this. I’ll do it.”

“We agreed to take turns on this.”

“Yes, Russell. But sometimes, the rules are meant to be bent.”

George swivels his chair to Max, then. Fully attempts to pin him with his gaze, commencing an awkward stare-off that lasts way too many seconds and makes Max once again realise that George’s eyes remind him of the expensive fish tank he saw at the Partners’ sushi dinner once. Max doesn’t think those same fish were the ones they ended up eating. But he does remember that dinner because it was the one where the Partners had dangled the promise of a huge promotion if they could help carry the company merger across the line successfully. The problem is, there was only one spot.

George’s distracting aquatic orbitals aside, fortunately, Max (i) never backs down, and (ii) has been told that he has the dead-eyed emotional stare of a robot missing an empathy software upgrade sometimes.

And clearly, the powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.

Max leans back in his chair, stance all mock-relaxed. “Do you want to be out of here before midnight, or not?”

“We’re expensing the Ubers either way, so it doesn’t make a difference to me, mate.”

Fine. If George is so hyperfocused on The Tasks that he’s forgotten the fun part of being Questionably Close Coworkers, so be it.

Max deploys the nuclear option.

He sticks his leg out, nudging the toe of his Pradas onto George’s slacks. And strokes his foot halfway up to a sensitive point on George’s thigh. Max may even flutter his lashes a little.

To his credit, George does not react. Merely swings his eyes like a lamp to Max’s face again. His hand does, however, goes still on the mouse.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Max feigns. He knows that George hates, more than anything, anyone getting dirt on his precious Ralph Laurens. But at least he has his attention now. “Was hoping we could move onto the more fun part of the typical evening activities. Maybe.”

“We shouldn’t be doing that again anyway.”

“George.”

“What?”

“That is not what you said the last, hm, fourteen times that we have done this, eh?”

“Who’s counting?”

“I thought you were the most careful of rule followers and data analysis, knapperd.”

George is a human being, but Max is almost certain the other man shakes himself like he’s preening right now.

“Well. It’s what the team likes me for, and it’s what I’ll keep doing.”

“Oh yes. Surely we must keep in mind the team. And the shareholders. They are very important.”

“Quite.”

“But should we tell them that you like it so much, George. When I do this.” Max says. Rising up, fully crowding George in, hands gripping the cool handles of the computer chair. Leaning in to nibble the side of George’s neck.

George swallows. Max watches his throat move.

Next, Max mouths the words onto the side of George’s jaw, stubble prickling his mouth. “And this.”

The click of the mouse continues steadily as Max moves his mouth to the shell of George’s ear. “And let’s not forget. This.”

Max tilts George’s face up fully, then. George’s face is flushed, eyes sparkling, all surprise at the sudden change of pace, but eager, too.

When Max seals his lips over George’s, George groans, and his hands shoot up to Max’s waist immediately. It doesn’t feel quite like winning a deal or a pitch does for Max, but the completion comes pretty damn close.

Max sweeps his tongue into George’s mouth. George opens willingly, like he always does. In the back of Max’s logical brain, a warning sign blares that the computer chair may not be able to support the weight of them both – because they spend a lot of time pretending they don’t work out together at the gym but Max knows exactly what George’s deadlift PB is and it’s pretty damn high for a scrawny looking dude.

And despite the keening protest of said chair, the two of them are both lost to it now. Max jams one knee between George’s legs, George nibbles hungrily at Max’s lower lip, Max thrusts his hips all needy, and maybe if Max is nice about it George might suck him off under the table, and–

Outlook chimes again.

“Blasted piece of shit.” George says, breaking away. His hands go still at Max’s waist. “Why we’re using G-Suite and Microsoft Office at the same time I will never know.”

George squeezes his eyes shut, as if making himself stop this is causing him physical pain. Maybe it’s that or the workflow incompatibility when George tries to move his custom Excel-Trello gantts into a third party API.

And Max won’t lie. He kind of likes it when George gets so irritated about these things. When he cares a bit too much. Because what is Max but exactly like that, too.

“Hazards of a merger, I guess. But without that, I would never have met you, no?”

George makes a noise like he knows what Max means. The other man straightens his shirt collar, and Max runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, because George had made a passing comment at the bathroom sink once about it looking good.

Sleeping with the person competing for the same Chief of Staff position is possibly the worst decision he could’ve made, and Max once dyed his hair platinum blonde. But, they’re stuck here together. Hell is a slightly more tolerable place when Satan’s right hand man looks this good. And knows his coffee order without asking.

Besides. Max is not bothered. He knows that the promotion is his. This is just a minor plot inconvenience.

Later, they will expense the uber back to George’s place, where Max will put his mouth on George’s arse, and give him a practical demonstration of the three different ways he’s learned to elicit pleasure from the male prostate.

George will whimper and whine the whole way through it, and after they’re both sated, they’ll both roll over to check their emails, barely concealing their smiles. They will pretend that what’s happening between them could be as clean as their zero-email inboxes. As if their connection is not violently seeping through containment.

All in the name of team bonding. For the firm. Yes.

(Or this is what they tell themselves, to maintain the illusion, anyway.)

[sleekervae]

if it matters, you complete me

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin x Jade (OC) (standalone)

Summary: After a long day and night of filming, Austin comes home in the early hours of the morning to find Jade deep in the throes of work.

Warnings: fluff, super duper major fluff

Word Count: 2,473

A/N: since seeing those "Caught Stealing" pics all over my feed, this idea's been rattling around in my brain. Enjoy!

Austin sighed as he pushed open the door, the quiet click echoing through their apartment. The familiar smell of vanilla and nutmeg greeted him, and he couldn't help but smile. Even after a long day on set, the thought of coming home to Jade always made him feel better.

As he made his way through the hallway, the dim glow of the living room caught his eye. He knew without even looking that Jade would be there, lost in her world of music. She was always more of a night owl, her creativity coming alive when the rest of the world was asleep.

And there she was, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her long hair cascading down her back with her laptop on her legs and earphones on her head. She had been just as busy as he was, but while his schedule forced him out into the chilly fall of New York, Jade’s work sequestered her to their apartment.

Austin smiled to himself, leaning against the doorframe for a moment to just watch her. Despite how exhausted he was, the sight of her—completely lost in her element—warmed something in his chest. There was something peaceful about it, about her.

He tiptoed closer, sliding off his shoes, and quietly plucked the headphones from her ears. Jade jumped slightly, her eyes widening before they softened when she saw him. She grinned, and even though she was the one who had been working all night, she somehow looked more refreshed than he felt.

“Hey, stranger,” she teased, her voice warm and soft in the late-night quiet. "You’re up late."

He chuckled, dropping onto the couch beside her. “So are you,” he said, his hand gently brushing a stray curl from her face, “What are you working on?”

“Psycho babble,” she replied with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She had her mixing software up and running, the audio spikes zig-zagging 

across the screen like musical notes frozen in time. Austin watched in awe as she expertly navigated through the program, her fingers dancing across the keyboard with practiced precision.

“Is that the name of your next album?” he asked.

“Never say never,” she shrugged back.

“I thought you were supposed to be on a ‘break’,” he pointed out.

He had a point. Jade had spent the last few years putting together her last album, having it chart, marketing it and then touring across the globe. She was an absolute rockstar, but even she was a human being with limits. As soon as award season was over she swore she would take a break — giving her more of an excuse to travel with Austin. But alas, she was an artist. 

“Idle hands do the devil’s work, darling,” she replied smartly, “Besides, I’m here aaaalll alone in New York, all my friends are asleep, and you’re working so I can’t bother you,” he knew from the lilt in her voice that Jade was only joking, but Austin couldn’t help the little sting of guilt rippling up his spine. Every time they were in New York together it was always so magical, but this time he was working late.

He leaned in to press a soft kiss against her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. The scent of her shampoo mixed with a hint of tea was intoxicating, and for a moment, he forgot about the long day he had just endured. Jade leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the closeness between them.

“I promise we'll have our New York adventure soon,” Austin murmured, the words a vow against her skin. “I'll make it up to you.”

Jade turned to look at him then, her gaze searching his face with a mix of fondness and amusement. “You always do,” she said, her voice soft but filled with warmth. “But right now, how about a midnight snack to keep us going?”

Austin chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Midnight? It’s 4am.” he teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully before hopping off the couch, her hand reaching out for his. “Details, details. Come on, let’s raid the fridge! You should never go to bed on an empty stomach!”

Together, hand in hand, they made their way to the kitchen. The soft glow of the refrigerator light illuminated Jade's face, casting a warm halo around her. Austin couldn't help but admire her in that moment, the way she moved with such grace and purpose even in the dead of night. But then, that’s what she always did. For as long as he could remember, she was a nocturnal creature.

As they rummaged through the shelves, pulling out random snacks and leftovers, a comfortable silence settled between them. It was moments like these that Jade cherished the most—simple, mundane tasks made special by her favorite person.

With their impromptu feast gathered on the countertop, Jade hopped up to sit on its edge, swinging her legs as she surveyed their bounty. Austin leaned against the counter opposite her, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

“Ah-ha!” Jade exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a half-empty carton of oreos, “Did I ever tell you about my oreos hack?”

Austin's eyes widened in playful anticipation, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew Jade had a knack for turning ordinary moments into remarkable experiences, and her "oreos hack" was no exception. 

“No, but I’m all ears,” he replied, leaning in with exaggerated interest.

Jade chuckled at his enthusiasm before leaning closer to whisper her secret. “Okay, so you take two Oreo cookies, right? Twist them apart carefully...” Her voice lowered conspiratorially as she demonstrated, her fingers deftly separating the chocolate cookies from the creamy filling. 

Austin watched, completely entranced by her animated explanation. It didn’t matter that it was past 4 am or that they both had early mornings ahead of them; in that moment, time seemed to stand still as they shared this simple joy together.

“Once you have them separated,” Jade continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “you grab a spoonful of peanut butter and spread it on one side of the cookie. Then, you put them back together and dunk the whole thing in a glass of milk… or coffee. It’s better with black coffee and the bitterness cuts the sweet,”

Austin couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, charmed by the way she could turn a late-night snack into an adventure. He reached for an Oreo from the package, following her instructions meticulously as she watched with a grin.

“If we have coffee now, we’ll never get to sleep. Milk will have to do,” he joked, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with milk. Jade beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watched him assemble his own Oreo creation.

As they both took a bite of their makeshift dessert, a moment of contentment washed over them. The combination of sweet chocolate, creamy peanut butter, and cold milk was surprisingly satisfying, each flavor melding together perfectly on their taste buds. Austin couldn’t help but marvel at how Jade had a way of turning the simplest things into something just a little more fun.

They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying their late-night snack together. The apartment was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of their glasses against the countertop.

Austin chewed thoughtfully, the sweetness of the Oreo and the peanut butter mixing in a surprisingly pleasant way. He chuckled as he glanced at Jade, who was already halfway through her second cookie, her eyes bright and mischievous. Despite how tired he felt, moments like this made everything else fade into the background.

Jade wiped a crumb from her lip, leaning back against the counter. “So, Caught Stealing,” she began, her tone casual, but her gaze soft with concern. “How’s it going? You guys make any progress tonight?”

Austin’s smile faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered, pushing the exhaustion to the back of his mind. “Yeah, it’s coming along,” he said, trying to keep his voice upbeat for her. “We shot this big chase scene tonight. A lot of running, a lot of retakes. You know how it is—hours of running for what’ll probably be a three-minute scene.” He laughed, though it came out a little hollow.

Jade nodded, though her eyes lingered on him longer than usual. She could always tell when he was holding back, even when he tried his best to hide it. “Sounds intense,” she said softly. “You must be beat.”

“I’m fine,” Austin insisted, but his attempt at brushing it off was undermined by the way he leaned heavily against the counter, his shoulders slumping just a little. He glanced over at her, catching her raised brow. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe a little. But it’s nothing new. You know how these things go.”

Jade stepped closer, her fingers lightly tracing the back of his hand. “I do,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t mean you have to pretend like it’s no big deal. You’ve been going nonstop lately.”

Austin looked down at her, the tiredness catching up to him all at once. He couldn’t help but smile at her concern, at how she always seemed to know what he needed before he did. “I just didn’t want to drag you down,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “You’ve got your own thing going on. I figured we’d both just… power through.”

Jade glanced at the time on her phone, now reading 4:17am. She shook her head, smiling gently. “I think power-hour has long passed.” she said. “You should go to bed.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged back, “I probably should,” as the words left her lips, a yawn took her over.

A warmth spread through Austin’s chest as he looked at her, perched on the counter, the soft light casting shadows over her features. Without thinking, he stepped closer, sliding between her legs as she leaned back slightly to make room for him. His hands found her waist, holding her gently but securely, and he felt the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.

“Let’s go to bed,” he urged her gently, “And if we time it right, we might even get to wake up together,” no hectic mornings, no looming deadline shoots; only a peaceful and intimate moment for the two of them to share and enjoy together.

Jade looked up at him, her lips quirking into a soft smile, the kind that made his heart skip. Her legs wrapped loosely around his hips as she rested her hands on his chest, tracing absent patterns. “Deal,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving his, “Let’s go to bed,”

Austin scooped Jade up effortlessly, relishing the feeling of her warm body pressed against his as he carried her towards the bedroom. Her laughter tinkled in the air, the sound like music to his ears. They entered the room, dimly lit by a soft glow from the bedside lamp, casting a warm ambiance over the space.

Gently laying Jade down on the plush covers, Austin lowered Jade onto the plush covers, her body sinking into the soft bedding. He gazed down at her with intense eyes, overflowing with unspoken declarations of love and adoration. Leaning in, he tenderly pressed his lips against hers in a lingering, gentle kiss. Jade's hands found their way to his cheek, her touch soft and reassuring. In that moment, the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of intimacy and affection.

As they broke apart, Jade's eyes fluttered open, gazing up at him with a mix of adoration and desire. She reached up to cup his cheek, her touch sending shivers down his spine. 

"Wait," she said, her eyes flickering with amusement. "The snacks."

Austin blinked, momentarily confused before he remembered the plate of untouched snacks left out in the kitchen. He hesitated, torn between his desire for rest and knowing they should tidy up.

Jade let out a soft chuckle at his internal struggle and shook her head. "It's fine, we can get it in the morning.” she assured.

He wasn’t going to argue with that, not when sleep was tugging at his limbs and his eyes. 

Austin gave a small laugh, the kind that came from sheer exhaustion. “You sure? I can—” 

Jade cut him off with a playful nudge, her hands gently pushing him toward the bedroom. “It’s fine, we’ll deal with it tomorrow,” she insisted, her tone firm but light. 

He didn’t argue, the thought of their bed far more enticing than anything else at the moment. They padded quietly through the bedroom, Austin tugging off his old clothes and tossing them onto the chair in the corner, replacing them with comfortable sweats. Jade, meanwhile, grabbed one of his old T-shirts from the dresser and slipped it on, the hem falling loosely over her thighs. 

Austin smiled as he caught sight of her in his shirt, the familiar comfort of the scene filling his chest with warmth. It was always like this—simple, easy, natural. No matter how hectic their days were, they always had these moments, where it was just the two of them, cocooned in their own little world. 

“C’mere,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion as he climbed into bed, holding the blanket up for her. Jade smiled and slid in beside him, immediately curling into his side, her head resting on his chest. 

They lay there in the quiet, the soft sound of their breathing filling the room as they settled into the warmth of each other. Austin’s arm wrapped around her waist, his hand absentmindedly tracing small circles on her back. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. It was peaceful, the weight of the day slowly slipping away. Jade’s fingers played lightly with the fabric of his shirt, and Austin closed his eyes, already half-drifting into sleep. 

“Today was rough, huh?” Jade asked softly, breaking the silence but keeping her voice gentle. 

“Mmm,” Austin murmured, too tired to form a full sentence. But he didn’t need to. Jade understood. 

She lifted her head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before settling back down, her head tucked perfectly under his chin. “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered. 

Austin smiled, his heart swelling as he tightened his hold on her. “Me too,” he whispered back, his voice thick with sleep. 

They drifted off like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their bedroom fading into nothing. Tomorrow, there’d be work, messes to clean, and more long nights—but tonight, they had this. Just them, together, in the quiet warmth of their bed.