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#hanging sliding door
puppixel · 2 years
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Enclosed - Modern Living Room
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acegodzilla · 3 days
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Feral boy
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faillen · 5 months
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always incredibly baffled by all three of my roommates’ inability to look at a thing in the house that is broken and then: 1) examine how it might be broken, 2) how it might be fixed, and 3) if it can’t be fixed, what needs to be done in order to make sure further damage isn’t caused
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gothamcityneedsme · 5 months
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i hurt.. but i am working on Projects... i want to... have things Done
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pinolitas · 6 months
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I hate having a fucking pocket door but there's no way a real door would work in this place with so little space available
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cottageivy · 1 year
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the bee is still in my room but i have managed to escape and close my door. i’m waiting for my mom to wake up bc i am nothing if not a big baby :)
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gotta-bail-my-quails · 9 months
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so i realized you can use powerpoints to imagine new ways to organize your furniture
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plutotheplum · 2 months
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thinking of ex-husband!sylus
ex-husband!sylus who was sickeningly generous during divorce proceedings. he had his lawyer agree to each one of your requests without batting any eye.
ex-husband!sylus who still remembers your anniversary. he sends over expensive gifts, tokens of his affection, hoping to win you back.
ex-husband!sylus who visits every month on his obnoxiously loud bike so the entire neighborhood knows that he's back.
ex-husband!sylus who brings along his pet crow, and then gets jealous when it cozies up with you.
ex-husband!sylus who has luke and kieran spy on you when you go out on dates.
ex-husband!sylus who acts like he doesn’t know why your dates have been ruined by unforeseen misfortunes (he pays luke and kieran extra if they manage to sabotage the date).
ex-husband!sylus who sees red when you manage to bring a man home, despite all of his interferences.
ex-husband!sylus who still has a spare key and waits inside for you to get home with that pathetic date of yours.
ex-husband!sylus who pulls you into the filthiest kiss, tongue and all, in front of your poor date who watches with wide eyes.
ex-husband!sylus who knows you miss him when you go limp in his arms and respond to his kiss just as eagerly.
ex-husband!sylus who knows how desperately you try to push him away, and yet will always come back to him.
ex-husband!sylus who is so riled up that he has to take you right then and there, up against the front door.
“w-wait,” you gasp out, feeling his lips suck harsh marks against your neck as he hauls you up into his arms.
“i've waited long enough,” he hisses, bunching your dress up at your hips as he rips your pretty, lacy panties off. he can't believe you'd wear such cute panties for another man.
you scrabble at his shoulders, trying to stay stable with the way you’re held against the front door whilst your ex-husband fumbles with his belt.
sylus pushes his cock into you roughly, his head falling against your shoulder when he feels the dizzying wet heat of your cunt. he’s finally back home.
the front door shakes with every thrust he delivers to your poor pussy and you quake in his arms, his movements tearing loud moans and whines from your throat.
you find yourself kissing your ex-husband desperately, hands in his hair and legs locked around his waist.
it's messy, rough and your breath hitches when you see his shirt shift, exposing the necklace around his neck. your wedding rings hang from it.
sylus grins at you, gripping your cheeks to hold your head still.
“i love you,” he says gruffly, kissing you over and over again until you wail and kick your legs out at the force of your orgasm.
he groans, his grip on you faltering as he comes at the same time, thick cum spilling inside of you.
you feel yourself slide down the door, legs too weak to hold yourself up until sylus catches you by the waist and tugs you close to him.
it’s not hard to see the adoration in his eyes when he cleans you up and pulls you into bed.
he lands soft kisses against your cheek, presses his forehead against yours and whispers his vows from years ago.
there's tears staining your cheeks when he slides your wedding ring onto your finger again, pulling you into a tender kiss.
sylus promises himself he’ll never let you go again, no matter what. 
because he knows you’re his. 
his precious darling.
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bi-writes · 1 month
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mail order bride meeting 141 for the first time 🙏
mail-order bride
he likes the way this moment sounds. it will end soon, when you both walk out the door, but for now, he sits, and he doesn't want it to end.
it's not just the sound of the television. his favorite football team has finally fucking put one into the corner of the net. the announcers cheer, but this isn't all that he hears.
the cat is in the kitchen. he can't see it, but he hears it (the little fucker). she's pawing at the cat grass that sits above the sink now. when he leans forward, he notices her little nose pushing it around before she takes a bite out of it.
she leaves the basil alone.
and then there's the sound of you. your feet in the bedroom. when you pass by the doorway, he can see you in different states of getting ready. when you pass by this time, he can see your eyeliner is on both eyes now, not just one, and your hair doesn't have clips or pieces to hold it in its style anymore. it lays perfectly now; he did a double-take when he saw it this way for the first time. you're rifling through the closet now. your clothes used to be in their own drawers. separated. socks not touching one another. your half of the closet, and his half. perfectly divided.
he doesn't remember when it happened. he found your bra under his t-shirt today. he was going through the jackets because your dresses were now between them. in the bathroom, he almost stuck your toothbrush in his mouth because they rest side-by-side in the holder.
when he looks around the room, he can't see where you begin, and he cannot see where he ends. he doesn't see where he started.
but he can see where you will go.
you bounce into the living room, holding up two hangers. there's dresses on each of them, one a dark color, the other light, and you hold them in front of simon who's still sitting on the couch, his head in his hand as he concentrates on the game (where he pretends like he hasn't been thinking about you too hard to really focus).
"simon?" you call, and he grunts, looking over at you. "which one do you like?"
he looks over the two dresses before looking at you. he hums, leaning back against the couch. he shrugs before looking back at the telly. you would look like perfection in either of them, but that isn't what you asked, and that isn't the answer you want.
"the darker one. like ya in tha' color."
you smile a little before going back into the bedroom, hanging the other dress back up and laying the other one out on the bed. you rummage through the dresser for proper undergarments, picking a soft lace pair of panties with a matching bra. you slip them on before stepping into the dress.
you reach around for the waist, and when your attempts to grab it are futile, you look over your shoulder towards the door.
"simon?" you call out gently. "could you come here, please?"
there's a shuffle of sound before simon steps into the bedroom. you point to your back, smiling at him shyly.
"c-could you help me? i can't reach the zipper."
he makes his way over to where you stand in front of the mirror. you watch as his eyes roam over your back, as he takes in the sight in front of him. you swallow as he drags a few knuckles down the length of your spine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours in the mirror before he takes the zipper in his hand and pulls it up. when he finishes, he steps a little closer, dipping his head to look at you from over your shoulder. you turn your head to look up at him, smiling.
"everything okay?" you ask softly, and he clicks his tongue, sliding his hand from its place on your back to wrap around your middle. he spreads a big palm over your tummy before dragging you backwards, your backside pressing against his front.
"mmm..." he scrunches his nose a little, running a pink tongue over his teeth. "look fuckin' beautiful."
you giggle, looking away, spreading your palms along your cheeks to try and make it less hot, less warm--fuck, it's so hot, isn't it?
you pull away to go for your shoes, picking them up from the closet. you take a seat on the bed, trying to ignore simon's stare (impossible), and you put the shoes down to slip your feet into them. just as you bend to buckle them, simon tsks, and you sit up as he kneels down in front of you.
"simon, you--"
"shut it," he mutters, reaching down and picking your foot up by the ankle gently. he wraps the strap around it, fastening the buckle, and you open your mouth to say something, but then he bends, giving your knee a soft kiss before reaching for your other foot.
your eyes meet again as he wraps it around your ankle. he smirks, just enough, and your lip wobbles a little as he fastens the next shoe before setting it back down on the floor. he puts his hands on his knee to get up, standing to his full height, and your neck strains as you try and look up at him.
at times, you feel at odds. he anticipates your needs before you even know what they are yourself. he pushes your meals in front of you just as you realize you're hungry. he helps you to the top shelf whenever you need it, picking you up from your waist without even a grunt. he feeds the cat when she cries, he wipes the tears from your face just as they fall.
you want to be more. you want to be his wife. your life is leisure and warmth, you are cared for like a fine porcelain doll, but what are you to him? what do you do for him? what is it that you bring, why are you here, why did he ever even want you if he provides and all you do is take, take, take?
the pub is alive. the lights flicker and glow a warm orange, and there's many crowds around tables, cheering and laughing and clinking pints together. you swallow as you look around; a crowded place with lots of unfamiliar faces. you freeze at the door, blinking, trying to take it all in. just as you stiffen, there's a presence right at your back.
an arm circles around your middle protectively. simon's warm hand rests at the curve of your waist, and you look up at him. he stares down at you knowingly. he's wearing his mask, obscuring his entire face except for his eyes, but you've learned to read him all the same. his hood darkens the shadows over him, but you see what he's telling you easily.
'm right 'ere.
simon moves you in front of him, walking just behind you, and he leans over to murmur in your ear as he guides you forward.
"in the corner, luv."
you barely have time to register that your husband just called you love when you see an enthusiastic wave meant for you out of the corner of your eye.
simon showed you their pictures, but the grainy selfies from his phone don't do them any justice. kyle has a pearly smile and round cheeks (troublemaker, he could get away with anything with those eyes). johnny has an infectious grin and wild curls that fall in a line down his head (a wild card, he's got eyes that you can't read and a leg bouncing from his terrible inability to sit still). and then there's john, hidden under a beanie and a rough smile (all business, all thought, because even out here, he can't stop his mind from wandering back to the papers on his desk and the cries for help he can't ignore).
johnny's smile drops a little when you come near. he eyes the hand that simon has on you, the proximity of your bodies. he raises a brow when you hold out your hand to shake, gawking when he eyes your other hand, the ring that sparkles there.
"ach, LT..." johnny swallows hard. "is this...is she--?"
simon clears his throat. "this is my wife."
"steamin' jesus," johnny breathes, leaning back in the booth. he picks up his drink and knocks back the entire thing, choking a little as he looks between the two of you. "what the fawk?!"
you blink, stepping back, and simon takes a seat beside john, shaking his head.
"fuckin' hell, johnny. behave," simon mutters. "'s not--"
"ye said y'were showin' us yer new lass," johnny quips. "not yer wife!"
you look at simon, laughing a little.
"simon, you didn't tell them you were married?"
"tha' was need t'know," simon mutters, rolling his eyes. you giggle, looking around for somewhere to sit. simon doesn't give you much time to choose--you let out a shaky breath as he picks you up from your hips, sliding you up and onto his thigh. he spreads his legs a little to accommodate you, but he's such a big man.
simon holds one hand at your back, and the other lays flat against the table. it's easy, falling into conversation with them. they don't talk about work. they're infatuated with their lieutenant and his surprise wife. they ask if he owns pajamas. they ask if he takes the mask off to sleep. they ask if simon whittles, if he listens to music, if there's a snack that puts him in a good mood (jaffa cakes, you tell johnny, who cackles with delight).
when simon gets up to have a smoke, you're surprised. simon never leaves you alone in a public place, ever. he's always at your back, even at the grocery store. he likes to take you aisle by aisle, and he doesn't care if it makes the trip longer, because he doesn't like to have you out of his sight for very long.
he gives you that look, one that you can read. you're safe with these men.
you agree. they bring simon home, every single time.
"awwww, no' gonna give yer lass a smooch, LT?" johnny winks. "'s alright, we don't care. won't think ye a big softie cuz o' it."
simon rolls his eyes, pocketing his cigarettes as he stands by the table. he dips his fingers into johnny's pint and flicks him with it before leaning over and kissing you lightly through the mask, a chaste kiss that already leaves you reeling.
you blink, caught off guard, and you blink up at simon so slowly, a syrupy smile falling over your face.
"LT, that wasnae a real one," johnny rolls his eyes. "wut, are ye scared of us?"
"shut your fuckin' mouth, sergeant, i'll make y'do laps tomorrow."
"big baby."
you watch simon take the back door, letting it swing shut behind him. you excuse yourself, following after him, pushing the door open and blinking to adjust to the dark light of the alleyway.
there's stars out. they sparkle, and you pause to stare up at them for just a moment before making your way to where simon leans against a brick wall.
it all reminds you that you're just small. not small, but smaller than simon, and compared to what stares at you across a violet sky, you are nothing but specks in time. you're drifters, composites of organic matter that somehow, for some reason, exist at the same time.
simon's eyes find your own in the dark. it's hard to see; the only light nearby flickers, and it's hard to focus, but you can see his eyes clearly, magnetized even when the rest of him seems so obscure, hiding from your view.
your smile is clear, too. the watery lines of your eyes, they glow, and when you come near, you and simon are in your own bubble, a pocket of the universe that cannot be explained. he has found you, and you have found him, and even when the night sky tries so hard to hide the things you know are there, it isn't strong enough to take away what exists in the in-between.
you slide your fingers under the hem of his mask. this kind of thing is practiced. the same thing you do when he comes home every day. the only acts of service he ever allows, the only things he ever lets you do.
you ask yourself always what it is that you provide. what it is that he sees in you that you can't seem to see in yourself.
maybe it's this. maybe it's the grounding. the gravity he never used to feel, the orbit he could never quite get himself to maintain, the taut line of connection that's been severed ever since the only people he's ever loved were ripped right out from underneath his ribs.
he puts his hands over yours when the mask is over his nose. his palms over the backs of your hands, warm skin over soft, something broken over something seeking.
"you don't want this," simon whispers, and you frown a little, shaking your head.
"how...how can you say that?"
"i'm not..." he flinches a little. "not made for this. 's not wha' y'think."
you're eyes water. you aren't sad. you're upset.
"y-you have no idea," you whisper. "i know what i want. you can always tell when i'm lying, am i lying now?"
"'s not--"
"simon," you stop him. "look at me," you sniffle, and he closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, before finding your gaze again. it's frightening, what he sees. he sees nothing that he expects. no deception. no fear. the honesty, it terrifies him. the reality of accepting what he can't understand hurts inside. it trickles deep, down to his toes, along his spine, a curdling in his stomach that he can't believe because there's no way that someone can love me when i can't fucking love myself. "am i lying now?"
"no," he breathes, and your smile is sickly sweet. he doesn't understand. he doesn't get it. nothing in his life has ever been this easy. nothing in his life has ever been just for him, all for him, just his, and no one else's. there has never been a piece of life that has ever pitied him enough to let him have it exactly as it is, and yet here she is, my perfect girl, arriving on my doorstep.
like you dropped straight from heaven. angels with soft hands and a timid face and a shadow with soft fur and big eyes and terrible little temper.
simon's hand is an anchor on the back of your head. tilting you to the side, drawing you near, until you are on your toes, and your face is canted up.
you kiss in the dark. your mouth slots over his, hands gripping the front of his jacket as you try and get even closer to him. he's a little shy at first, letting you lead while he follows, but it only takes a few seconds for you to feel his hand stiffen against your head as he kisses you feverishly.
you smile between kisses. he smiles, too. you giggle, and he huffs, and he chases you with more kisses as you cradle his face between your hands and whisper between soft presses, i'm sorry and i know and it's all i've ever wanted.
when you pull away, he doesn't let you go. he presses your forehead to his, connecting you somehow, breathing in the warmth that you radiate to try and calm the pulsing of his blood that rushes in his ears.
when your eyes open again, and you look at each other, everything is suddenly clearer. whatever he saw before, everything must have been in black and white.
he sees in color. the stars align. they fall, one by one, sparkling as they form a pattern, one undiscovered by anyone before him, one he will keep all to himself in the time that follows. when he kisses you again, he memorizes that pattern.
he knows it will always lead right back to you.
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faeriekit · 9 months
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"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."
The body didn't move.
"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."
And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.
Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.
The dead body sat up.
Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"
Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.
Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.
"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."
The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.
"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."
The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.
It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.
The whole fic on ao3
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kurooh · 3 months
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QUICKIES ! — HAIKYUU
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⊹₊˚. he thinks the rush and risk of a quickie with you is the best feeling ever.
⟡ feat. timeskip! miya atsumu, bokuto kōtarō, iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, creampies, oral sex [m&f], cum swallowing, wall sex, public sex & exhibitionism, degradation, fingering, squirting, sex against a window, not proofread !!
⟡ xoxo, juno: my heart goes out to the neglected haikyuu fans on my blog. this is for you <3
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— MIYA ATSUMU.
“tsumu,” you pant, head falling back into the lockers behind you with a small thud that’s unheard over the sound of skin against skin.
you’re balancing on one jelly-like leg, back pressed into the lockers, the other leg hanging on his arm, toes curling. “oh, right there, tsumu, please,” a breathy whimper leaves your parted lips, and he angles his hips slightly, snapping his cock into you harder. each thrust punches the air out of your lungs, and atsumu knows he won’t be able to last much longer if you keep clenching like this, your pretty face scrunched with pleasure from him.
“fuck, babe— ughhh, yer so pretty like this..” he buries his face in your neck, the pace of his hips becoming unsteady and erratic as he gets closer and closer to coming undone inside you. in the not so far distance, you hear talking and laughing, but ignore it.
your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deep, and he groans out your name, pressing you harder into the lockers. “mmmh, ‘m gonna cum, where d’ya—”
“inside, want it in me,” you cut him off with a whiny plea, “want it dripping out while i watch the game.”
your hand races to press into the small of his back, in an attempt to make sure he doesn’t pull away or out. with a grumble of your name that makes his chest shake, he cums inside of you, just as a door opens nearby.
“tsumu,” you whisper in a panic when he doesn’t make any move to pull out after a few seconds, effectively plugging you full of his cum, “we have to get dressed for your game, y-your friends—”
“nah,” atsumu huffs, staring at your flexing pussy; his cum drips from you, slipping down your thighs mesmerizingly. he practically has hearts in his eyes looking up and down your body.
“i think we’re a little early, kiyoomi,” hinata’s bright voice is suddenly a few rows of lockers away.
“prep before a game is most important,” sakusa replies sternly, “practice and a shower before always guarantees a win, shōyo.”
atsumu’s already in his shorts, helping you pull on an msby jersey, stamped with his number on the back. his cum drips from your cunt as you quickly move past his teammates with a wave, mumbling a dumb excuse as you race out the door.
“atsumu,” sakusa pulls on his mask almost immediately, his guard up. “surely you noticed your girlfriend wearing the jersey backwards.”
— BOKUTO KŌTARŌ.
“you’re gonna win, kou, i promise,” you interrupt your boyfriend’s enthusiastic and nervous rambling, lips trailing over his inner thighs.
“i-i know, but this game is important!” he emphasizes, swallowing thickly as your fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts and boxers. the clothing slides down his thighs, settling at his knees, and you inch closer to his cock — rock hard, hot to the touch, tip sticky with precum.
bokuto chokes out a hushed groan, tangling his fingers in your hair and cupping the back of your head the second you take him into your mouth. he helps you take his entire length into your mouth, spurring you on with his whines and mumbled curses.
“b-baby, fuck, you’re so perfect, ughhh—”
you choke when you finally make it all the way down to his base, your nose practically touching the coarse hair covering his pelvis. eager hands begin to guide you up and down, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you move. bokuto gasps out a string of hazy apologies when he heard you gag particularly hard, but he doesn’t stop— instead, he cups the back of your head firmly and fucks up into your mouth, the movement of his hips sloppy.
“y-you wan’ me to win, right?” his head drops back, the creaky sounds of the locker room bench growing louder beneath him. with your one of your hands positioned on the wood for support, you feel the bench shaking hard.
you nod, your eyes moving from his abs up to his scrunched face; he’s biting down on his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth, his golden eyes half lidded and teary.
it’s almost filthy, the way bokuto rises off the bench, pushing you away from him before cupping the back of your head— he draws his hips back, leaving his tip in your mouth, then slams all the way inside.
tears spring to your eyes at the force, and you only move closer to him to allow him to use your mouth, or his ‘good luck charm’ before games.
“hahhh, that’s right, take it just like that,” bokuto grunts, “god, you’re gonna make me cum.”
heat rushes through your body and pools in your pelvis, wetting your panties at his words; his well muscled chest, gleaming with sweat, rises and falls rapidly as he pants. as his orgasm approaches, his thighs and abs tense as he buries himself deep in your throat, pulling you close to his pelvis.
his cock thickens on your tongue, throbbing as he finally fills up your throat with his cum; still sensitive, he whimpers as you swallow around him. slowly, bokuto pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard.
he quickly pulls up his shorts, tugs you to your feet, and gives you a tight hug. “i’m gonna win today, and it’s all cause of you!” he mumbles excitedly into your neck.
“sounds good, kou,” you laugh, rubbing his back. “after the game, meet me back in the locker room, ‘kay?”
— IWAIZUMI HAJIME.
“mmmh, princess— loosen up a little for me, can barely move,” hajime hisses into your ear, spreading your thighs a little wider with his free hand. he curls his fingers inside you, prodding at your sweet spot and stretching out your tight pussy with their girth.
your nails press crescents into his strong shoulders through his shirt as you hold him for support in humping yourself onto his fingers. “t-thank you, haji, i needed this, ah!” your voice cracks when he starts to scissor his fingers in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.
“‘course, baby..” he leans in for a chaste kiss, his olive eyes closing as his lips touch yours.
despite being a hardass with his team, shouting and sometimes even swearing at them, hajime would always be gentle and loving with you all the time. often, you are his outlet when it comes to letting off steam — either through soft or rougher sex.
although he’s disciplined and strong willed, he always melts when you cling to him, eyes shining as you take his hand in yours, guiding him inside your shorts to feel your damp panties. “need you, haji,” was all you’d said earlier, and then he had you on his lap with his big fingers buried in your cunt, the two of you tucked away beneath the bleachers of the gym, right before practice starts. hajime always has time for you.
“o-oh, hajime!” you cry, pushing your face into his chest, feeling the muscle beneath his fitted shirt, “i’m c-cumming, ‘m—”
your hips jerk backwards, his fingers slipping out of you, and your face burns as you squirt all over his lap, his hands, and yourself. a sharp gasp leaves you when you realize you’ve soaked him and his clothes, right before practice.
“h-hajime, i’m so sorry, i—”
he cuts you off by grabbing your chin firmly, tugging you to look at him. “don’t be, babygirl,” he lets you go and slowly starts to slide you off his lap, gesturing for you to stand up.
“i just wanted to make you cum, it’s okay, i still have some time to change,” he murmurs, getting on his knees and wasting the changing time; his tongue slides over your wet inner thighs, and he starts to lick up your cum.
your hands tangle in his dark hair, and you pull him closer to your dripping pussy, eyes rolling back when he presses a wet kiss to your clit.
— KUROO TETSURŌ.
“wow, couldn’t even wait till my lunch break, huh? w-what—shit, so tight—a slut.”
kuroo’s words are shaky, grunted out from above you as he fucks you, bent over with your palms pressed against the window. the glass is smeared with the combination of perspiration and your scented lotion that makes him go insane, the one that has him grabbing you all over.
“harder, tetsu..” you whisper, toes curling in your socks; your short skirt is flipped up, panties wet and pulled to the side. he’s supposed to be leaving his office for a meeting in the next 5 minutes, but when you showed up all pretty and flashed him just a little, he couldn’t resist.
the door wasn’t even closed, and here he was pushing his cock inside you and sliding his large hands under your shirt to grab at your tits.
“you like me fuckin’ you with the door open, right in front of the window, hm? fucking you just like a whore, baby.”
your puffy cunt clenches hard around his cock, and your head falls forward with a needy mewl, drinking in the sight of kuroo’s balls smacking into your clit, his cock pounding in and out of you.
“oh?” he slaps your ass, drawing a whimper from your lips that has him gritting his teeth and tossing his head back, “you like being called a whore, don’t you? you like me using your—ughhh, fuck!—s-slutty pussy like this, yeah?”
“yes, tetsu, god yes,” you keen, hands sliding down the glass as your eyes roll back and your back arches for him, “don’t stop don’t stop, please—”
you hope kuroo will be able to cum before his assistant comes by to remind him of the meeting that’s only a few minutes away — you hear her pushing away from her desk to come to his office, and you can’t find it in yourself to care or be any quieter.
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sturnioz · 3 months
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‘RAW’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, established relationship au.
word count. 3.5k
❝so, i can just slide right in, feel you… fill you up…❞
content warnings. explicit content, starts with sweet!matt then spirals to pussy drunk!matt, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of the petnames 'sweetheart' and 'baby', dirty talking, matt is also kinda goofy in this.
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“I’ve missed you.” Matt mouths at your skin, his arms tight around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck.
You smile warmly, melting into his embrace as your fingers lace through his curls and he hums at the soft tugs you give, sucking and nipping at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.
“Ow,” You hiss through giggles as Matt bites down a little too hard at your skin and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try to draw you back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Matt.”
Matt huffs as if what you’ve said is something so offensive that hurts his feelings, and his shoulders sag as he reluctantly lets you go, but slips his hand into your own instead, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door.
He drags his sock covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a comforting warmth spreads through his chest.
Matt misses being at your place; that sweet, familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning fills his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or to admire. 
He takes a quick glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and bowl soaking in soapy water, and he smiles when knowing you have eaten already. He wonders if it was something delicious or filling for you. 
He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards the direction of your bedroom.
And that’s when he feels most at home.
The bag that was once resting on his shoulders slumps to the ground and mindlessly kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s so used to pushing to the back of his mind comes front and centre as he sluggishly makes his way towards the unmade bed, sitting himself down on the edge. 
The hand that’s holding yours pulls you forward to stand between his parted legs, and he rests his cheek on your stomach as he embraces you like he once did a few minutes prior, exhaling happily as your fingers resume playing with his curly hair. 
“How was the trip?”
“Good,” Matt’s tone is quiet and gentle. “Nick was actin’ as our tour guide and was takin’ us to all these cool places,” He moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.”
You’re more than eager to see what pictures Matt wants to show you, and you gentle push him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he giggles, reaching his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo. 
He unlocks his phone, clicks the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement at seeing all the recent photos Matt failed to show you previously. 
You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos; some of him and his brothers, amateur photoshoots, and the scenery and the colours of skies leaves you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 
“Seein’ this one, like, reminded me of you, y’know,” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calmin’, makes me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, was killin’ me.”
“You called me every night.” You remind him, letting out a laugh as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips and pulling your body on top of his. He massages your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides.
“You know it’s not the same,” Matt argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearin’ your voice over the phone but, come on, havin’ you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you… I get to kiss you.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Matt hums with a short nod of his head before he lifts his head up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he grins against your lips when he feels your hands cradle his cheeks. 
Then, you feel it.
His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight down on him, eliciting a grunt due to the pressure on his cock.
“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him, biting back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Matt follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 
“A bit,” He admits, exhaling deeply. “But I don’t care. Just wan’ you.”
Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”
“Yeah, bad. So bad.”
You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to glide across your own all while his hands sip around to grab at your ass, pulling you even closer so that you’re pressed against him fully. 
You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes. Your hand curls around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he grins against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head. 
He gives you a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air.
Matt tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands caress your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that is more desperate and needy.
Matt’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, your fist curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost draw blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard. 
“Easy.” You hum with a giggle and Matt groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock.
He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing, and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over but you remain seated thanks for the hold he has on your hips. 
“You go easy, sweetheart.” Matt teases you this time and you roll your eyes.
You drop your hands from his to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, one hand resting behind his head with the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in the sight of your naked body—something he’s seen plenty times before but he views it as if it’s the first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy. 
You raise a brow, “Like what you see.”
Matt grins, “Always.”
You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand resting on the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips, and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own. 
He’s still touching himself between your bodies, hips fucking up into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.
You pull away from his lips much to his dismay, and he tries to pull you back in but falters when he sees you making your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, his mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.
Your fingers brush over his inner thighs, smiling when his cock twitches against his stomach. You stroke further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through gritted teeth. 
You hum softly, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip. 
“Ah—fuck, wait!” Matt suddenly speaks up and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face, and he reaches his hand down to touch your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains; “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, seriously. I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”
That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat, and you tighten your fingers around the base which elicits a gasp from his lips. “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Matt weakly pushes your hand away, and his cock slaps back against his stomach. His hips jerk upwards at the sudden contact, “Oh fuck—sweetheart, I’ve been waitin’ for this for so long. I want to cum fuckin’ you—please, I just—” Matt winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right then and there from his own words. “I wan’ to fuck you, baby.”
You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you, and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants as you nod your head quickly, watching as his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh. 
Matt gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck.
He’s quick to lean over to yank open the drawers of your nightstands, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have ready for him when he’s over. 
Matt pulls out the box and leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to pull out the packet and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes in place and face drops, you know something is wrong. 
You grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows as you call out his name, “Matt?”
“No, no, no—fuck no,” Matt mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand, but it remains empty. “Fuuuck, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”
“There’s no condoms left.” Matt echoes your words, and he throws the empty box down on the bed. 
He runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as his eyebrows knit together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some sort of friction below. 
“Hey… it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red, and you reach up to stoke his arm. “We must’ve used the last one before you left for your trip without knowing.”
“I should’ve been prepared or somethin’, like, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so fuckin’ excited to see my girlfriend that I didn’t even think about—”
“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again, but it seems to not work as he continues. 
“And now we have nothin’ and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically, and you hold back a snort, watching as he runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “A’ight, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue, and then I’m goin’ to jerk off in the—”
“No!” You raise your voice this time, startling Matt who stares at you with wide eyes, and you immediately apologise. “I’m sorry—sorry, baby. But.. you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”
“Then what are we goin’ to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea. 
“How about we just do it raw this time?”
Matt’s silent. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth.
He closes it.
He blinks again. 
“Raw? Like, without a condom?” 
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart…” Matt sighs softly as his hands rub your thighs, “We can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, y’know, and even though I’m certain I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my fuckin’ life with you and start a family… we really can’t risk it. It’s too soon, and we’re both not ready for that shit either.”
You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”
Matt’s silent again. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth to croak out, “What?”
“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly, and he looks at you as if you’ve kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Matt nods his head once. “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”
“You’ve been on the pill… for five months?” Matt asks you, and you hum to confirm it’s true. He gapes in shock, and his gaze flits down to your pussy in disbelief. “We could’ve done this five months ago?”
You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”
“So, I can just…” Matt’s voice trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he presses over your clit, your thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you… fill you up…”
He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot. His cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.
You suck in a deep breath as Matt finally pushes into you, and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. His body is frozen above you, his cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time.
His eyes flit to yours and suddenly, his gaze darkens, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your waist.
You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside your pussy. Your arms sling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, baby,” Matt grunts under his breath, fucking himself into your deeper and you wail, locking your legs around his waist. “Feel so tight. All for me—yeah. Jus’ for me. So fuckin’ good. My pretty fuckin’ girl and her perfect pussy.”
You try to speak—to call out his name but you’re stuttering your words with each thrust. The bed creaks beneath your bodies, and the headboard hits against the wall, but you could care less about the noise, you’re too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend's mood.
His tone and his words is enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how fucking filthy he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt fits snug around his cock and how we you are for him.
You’re not used to this.
You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin in his path, the words of affectionate praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’.
You’re not complaining, though. Never.
Seeing Matt’s switch up from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine. Your fingernails dig further into his shoulder blades and your pussy clamps around his cock tightly, causing him to curse loudly.
“Fuck—that’s it. That’s it, sweetheart. Tight lil’ cunt squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good,” Matt whispers in your ear, almost sounding like a whine. “My girl. My fuckin’ girl.”
“Please,” You begin to beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please—”
“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Matt drawls, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, and his hands grip your waist tighter when he hears you moan for him. “You wan’ that? Yeah? Wan’ me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”
You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over you like an aggressive wave and your body seizes up, almost sobbing from the pleasure as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.
Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, squeezing around him tighter which causes his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back on his knees. His hands slide down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches your cunt taking in his cock, ready to be filled.
“Good girl… keep doin’ that f’me. Feels so good, sweetheart.” Matt’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he suddenly stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.
Matt’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching as his cock twitches as his cum fills you up. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain that there’s nothing else left to give, and he winces out of sensitivity as he slowly moves back to pull out, his cock laying limp against his thigh.
“What was that?” You breathe out heavily as you lean up on your elbows to look at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I dunno,” Matt mumbles, his cheeks blossoming a reddish hue as he refuses to meet your eyes—that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. He can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your pussy, his lips parted as his fingers delicately stroke your pussy folds. “Was I too much, though?”
“No,” You quickly shake your head to reassure him. “I liked it.”
“Yeah? You did?” Matt finally meets your gaze and you smile at him as you nod your head this time. Matt sheepishly grins back and his eyes flit back down to his fingers that circle around your hole that leaks with his cum, and he makes the sudden decision to push it all back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry… jus’ don’t want anythin’ to go to waste.”
You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”
“Mm,” Matt nods his head, retracting his hand and staring at the cum that covers his fingers, that dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you. “I’m never wearin’ a condom again… y’know that right?”
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© sturnioz
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youngromancemusic · 11 months
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Modern Living Room - Living Room Example of a large minimalist formal and open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room design with a wall-mounted tv, white walls, a hanging fireplace and a tile fireplace
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earthquakes.
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voleuri · 11 months
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Rustic Bedroom - Master Remodel ideas for a medium-sized rustic master bedroom with a medium-tone wood floor, beige walls, and no fireplace
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ozzgin · 2 months
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I need a horror movie where the main character is a monster fucker.
The group ends up in some cursed, haunted place and has to spend the night there. Lights flicker, doors creak, and an abhorrent shadow slides down the hall menacingly, reaching MC’s room. This hoe is giggling under the blankets, reading the sloppiest demon smut.
First victim: one of the group members helplessly gasps for air, seemingly choked by invisible hands, hanging against the wall as the others stare in fear. MC turns to the camera, visible grimace on their face:
“Darn it! That should’ve been me.”
Finally, a grand reveal happens, and the entity appears before the remaining group in its true unholy form. Someone stumbles out in terror, someone else faints. MC’s face gradually heats up, and a smug smile spreads across their face.
“I’d tap that”, they conclude, camera zooming in and screen turning black.
Plot twist: it’s you. You’re the monster fucker.
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