#it doesn't even make my computer hot

[cyandocs]

The Universe seems to be reluctant to let me record The Sims again. Not only does the game crash, sometimes alongside OBS, whatever process is happening is enough to make my computer PANIC and blue screen. I've lost well over an hour worth of footage to corruption.

So. I guess that channel will stay dusty for now 🙃

[keeps-ache]

so Apparently a game i was running on my computer (without a cooler thing for a good minute there, because i guess i thought i was invulnerable to heat) may or may not have burnt out some parts of my machine. and it's been a couple months since i've played it bc it just stopped working one day and i just had to accept that lmao- but anyway i'm booting the game up again today, Surely this will go differently :3

[arielluva]

drawing my time traveler character bc she was the only good thing to come out of my concept art/3d modeling class (i learned nothing about character design or 3d modeling and this character was the only assignment actually about character design that we did (i did my senior project on character design and learned way more about it than a whole semester long class that was supposed to teach me it))

im also going insane trying to track down the shoes i used for inspiration for hers but alas i cant find them

[dalishthunder]

.

[irisintheafterglow]

"i'm crashing the fuck out."

"what the hell does that even mean?" when you answer with nothing more than an anguished groan, kiyoomi's head turns to look at you from his place on your bed. "are you okay?"

"i want to throw my computer at the wall and then myself," you reply even though it isn't much of an explanation. his eyebrows raise and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. smug fucker, he was amused by your suffering.

"throw yourself at the wall or throw the computer at yourself?" your boyfriend's dry attempt at making you laugh only makes you frown more and he waits for you to elaborate.

"either or is fine," you lament, digging your fingernails into your scalp deep enough to leave dents. "anything to get me out of this hole i've dug myself into." your voice wavers and he exhales through his mouth, sitting up and extending his arm to you. "what?"

"well? are you gonna take a break or not?" after a moment of contemplation, you nod the tiniest amount, shut your laptop, and sluggishly drag yourself to your bed. "c'mere, you big baby."

"i'm not a baby," you grumble while he pulls you both down, securing you against his chest. "why do i do this to myself?" he hums and you glance up to see his eyes shut, so you lightly poke his ribs. "hello? is my supportive boyfriend in there?"

"less talking, more resting," he mumbles. "if you wanna talk, give it ten minutes. just let your brain shut down for now." too tired to argue, you obey and lay against him in silence.

two minutes pass, then five, then eight.

you don't expect to start crying, but one sniffle turns into three and a few tears turn into a steady stream falling down your cheeks and onto his shirt.

"sorry, omi," you whisper as the spot under your cheek becomes damper. your voice is no louder than the fan humming in the corner of your room.

"it's okay, sweetheart. you're okay."

"were you waiting for this?"

"maybe."

"asshole." he knows your words hold no malice and runs his hand up and down your back, stopping every so often to trace circles on the back of your neck with the pad of his thumb.

"at least it's me and not some jackasses in your class," he decides for you. he lets a few more of your tears fall before shifting your positions so that you're both on your side, facing each other. he brushes the last stray drops from your cheek and patiently waits for your breathing to even out. "better?"

"better," you confirm. you're close enough that you can count every different shade of green in his eyes and notice every curl that falls around the two moles peeking out from the mattress. for someone who hates people staring at him for prolonged amounts of time (ironic considering that he plays a sport where an entire arena is looking at him), he doesn't mind the way your eyes scan his face like you're memorizing every detail. your eyes are different. you are different. "you still love me?"

"why would you ask that? of course i do."

"even when i'm a hot mess?" he huffs through his nose and finally pulls you back closer until your face is tucked between his shoulder and his neck. your body has completely relaxed and sakusa's unsure if you're even awake when he murmurs his reply.

especially when you're a hot mess.

[abbotsanatomy]

hello!! i love ur writing you’re feeding my abbot addiction <33 could you write a fic with a depressed reader, maybe she had a hard case that hit close to home that ended badly and is really lingering for her, and jack noticed because she’s been more withdrawn and distant for the past few days and he tries to get her to talk about it and she says shes fine then blah blah fast forward shes on yhe roof crying after working a double :) sorry im a fiend for hurt comfort

⨳ PROTECTING THE HIVE

pairing: jack abbot x chief resident!reader warnings: (20-ish year) age gap, resident/attending relationship, workplace romance, depictions of depression, mentions of suicidal ideation, kinda medical malpractice (lol), panic attack, allusions to child abuse. author's note: i had no idea what to name this, so here's my attempt at being funny... (also keep the compliments coming, they're feeding my ego <33 mwah)

You used to love your bed. It used to be a huge source of comfort. And sleep. Sleep is a special commodity when you work night shifts at a trauma center.

Now, you hate it. Because whenever you aren't working, you're just lying there. Not even asleep, just staring at the ceiling. Half of the time, you want to get up and be with your hot, older boyfriend.

The other half of the time, your mind is just pulling out the most horrendous memories possible, making you relive them, and wish you were dead. There's a bottle of pills on your nightstand you know would do the trick. You won't let yourself.

People rely on you. Jack relies on you. You save lives every day; you just wish you didn't have to lose so many along the way.

The only place you can escape your own thoughts is the ER. So, you throw yourself into your work. You work twice as hard, for twice as long.

Of course, Jack notices. He can see the most imperceptible changes in your demeanor, so this major shift doesn't exactly fly under his radar.

Be that as it may, you won't tell him any of it. He's a natural worrier. He hovers and he worries. That's just who he is. You're doing him a huge favor, really.

Besides, out of all the things your coping mechanism could be, it's saving lives. Who wouldn't support that?

So, you work yourself to the bone guilt-free. You take on double shifts with a few extra hours sprinkled on top. It's more than tiring, but it also means that when you get home and you're in bed, you pass out. You don't lay there for hours thinking about the kid who died in your ER two weeks ago.

You're careful about it, too. You change your scrubs and chug a cup of that terrible break room coffee before Jack comes in for the night shift.

Tonight's another one of those long, grueling, self-inflicted shifts. You've got a Red Bull in one hand, and a patient's bloodwork in the other. You've assessed labs like this one a million times, but the numbers aren't making any sense right now. Parker passes by you with a quick tap on your shoulder to bring your attention to her.

“Hey, you want me to count you in for the rock climbing thing this Sunday?” she asks, opening up one of the ER computers, “It was fun last time, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say slowly.

You're not too sure you can come up with a viable excuse right now, so you'll just have to cancel later. It was really fun, it just sounds like too much effort right now.

She walks away with a nod, when one of the nurses calls for her. When you start feeling surrounded in the middle of the ER hallway, you make your way to the break room. It feels even more stuffy, somehow.

You grip the papers in your hands tighter. The throbbing in your head that hasn't really left for the past two weeks has become unbearable now.

Noises are too loud. Everyone's too close. You need to get out, now.

Everything in your hand gets abandoned on the break room counter. You make your way as swiftly as possible past the patient’s rooms. A hand gently grips your arm, before you can pull the emergency exit open.

“Are you alright?”

Jack's low cadence coupled with his steady touch on your arm make you want to burst out into tears right then and there.

“I'm fine. I just—” your voice cracks.

“I need a minute,” you tell him, willing your voice to be as firm as you can manage. You can't even pull your gaze up from the floor. It isn't clear if he's buying it or not.

He lets go of your arm, and you can finally run up the hospital's stairs to the rooftop. You're completely out of breath, and still wildly overstimulated by the time you get there.

You pull the roof's metal door open. The moment the cold December air hits your face, it calms your panic down. But it brings with it a wave of sadness that can't be quelled or distracted away. You let yourself feel it.

You're out of control, now. Hands shaking, limbs completely wracked by these huge, full-body sobs. You steady yourself with your arms on one of the roof's AC units, when the memories start flooding your mind.

The kid you killed, he'd come in a week before. He had bruises all over, cuts where he wasn't supposed to. You passed the information onto someone on the day shift, so they can tell the department social worker. The next day you came back, he was gone.

A week later, he was dying in your arms. His blood literally staining your hands is a memory you'll never be able to erase. You spiral, his first and last visit to the ER flashing in your mind with equal consequence.

The footsteps growing closer barely register to your ears over your wailing. The moment Jack pulls you close, a hand on your jaw to bring your eyes to his, you instinctively pull away. He's insistent, though. He was trying to give you space, but look where that's gotten you.

“Hey, hey,” he says firmly, to grab your attention.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. He quickly realizes he can't get you to understand anything he says, not right now. So he does the next best thing.

He holds you. Really tight. So tight you can only smell his cologne and that sterile hospital scent that lingers on him for hours after a shift. It reminds you of home. You see him almost every day, but you miss him. He somehow always knows exactly what you need.

It takes a good ten minutes for you to stop crying in his arms. He's happy to be there, just glad you're slowly calming down. When your breathing evens out, and your eyes have dried out, you look up at him.

Where you think there should be disappointment, maybe even hatred, there's only admiration. If you’d actually picked up a scalpel and killed someone, he wouldn't even flinch, you think.

His gaze alone is making this a lot easier, “Better?”

You nod. Your eyes feel heavy, like you might just sleep here in his arms.

“It's the oxytocin,” he jokes.

“Yeah. I know,” you chuckle.

His scrub top looks incredibly comfortable. For the first time in weeks, you wish you were just in bed. You could lay on his chest and have the best sleep you've had in too many nights to count. The best you can get right now is resting your forehead on the black fabric. That's exactly what you do.

Jack lets a few seconds go back before speaking up.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I...” you take a deep breath.

I killed him. The words die on your tongue. You can't say them.

Jack must notice this is causing you distress, so he runs his fingers through your hair. He kisses the top of your head to calm you down.

“We don't have to, right now,” he whispers, “Not ever, even. But you do need to talk about it to someone.”

You nod in agreement, against his shirt. Your coping mechanisms are so not working.

“When was the last time you ate?”

You blank, “I don't...I don't know.”

“Sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Alright. You're done.”

He pulls your head up with a hand on each cheek, “Clock out. Go home. Have some food, and I'll be there in a few hours.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You both walk to the emergency exit. In the stairwell, you turn to him, your eyes still glistening.

“Hey, um. I'm not fine, Jack,” you admit.

“I know that,” he tells you. “But you will be. I'll make sure of it.”

You believe him.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[saeist]

“set me up with rin”

you slammed your hands against the hard wood table. scaring the shit out of shidou and aiku

“jesus fuck!” shidou puts a hand on his chest

“feisty. i like it!” aiku reacts, doing a little finger gun

“you didn’t say the magic word” sae murmurs, completely unbothered by your whole ruckus. you could say he’s used to it at this point

your eyes widened hearing sae’s response. did he finally agree to help you out?

“pretty please” you bat your eyelashes at your best friend, who wasn’t even looking at you by the way. he was currently reading something off what seems to be the latest edition of a sports magazine

sae silently flips the magazine onto the next page before looking at you dead in the eye. you watch his mouth open, ready to hear a certain sentence you’ve been wanting to hear for the past few weeks

“no.” he says flatly before turning his attention back to the magazine

both shidou and aiku break into boisterous laughter. only to be silenced by the librarian

“shh!” the librarian shushes. “one more ruckus from your table and i’m kicking the four of you out!” she whisper-yells, typing away on her computer

you dramatically slide into the seat next to sae, leaning on his shoulder as you reach over to tug his hand

“sae c’mon! you know i like him! so do me a favor as your favorite friend and set me up with your cute little brother” you cried out, tugging on his hand again and again

sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and snatches his hand back

“that’s exactly why i won’t set you up with him” sae grimaces

“and that is?!”

“that you like my little brother” sae says casually. closing the damned magazine and tossing it to shidou who was busy laughing at something on his phone with aiku

“that’s barely a reason” you point out, “would it kill you to help your friend that's desperate for a lover?" you add, dramatically falling limp onto his lap

sae pinches the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. he's heard of this dramatic monologue of yours for a hot minute. ever since he introduced you to his brother, you have not shut up about him since.

it was a mistake on sae's end. he shouldn't have brought you, along with shidou and aiku along for dinner back at his place but it was his mom who pestered him into bringing you guys over for dinner as his mother wanted to meet who sae's friends at college were

"i didn't know y/n-chan was into younger men" shidou quips, poking your nose as you glared daggers at his face

"rin is just like a year younger than sae, let alone me" you retort

"point still stands, y/n-chan" aiku chimes in a sing-song voice, "why do you like him anyway and not the hotter, better and wiser older brother here?" he continues

you dreamily sigh, still on sae's lap as you think about rin

"well first of all, he's a cutie. second, he gives me tsundere vibes but then again, his brother right here is the same kind so i'm pretty sure it runs in the family and... i guess that's about it" you list off the nice things you can say about rin from the top of your head, "no offense sae, i think you're hot and all but just not my type" you poke your tongue at your best friend who only flicks your forehead in retaliation

"that's it?" shidou asks, feeling a little anti climactic about the whole thing. to him it sounded like you had a good reasons on why you were crushing hard on the other itoshi

"oh! and the fact that he's 6'1" you clasp your hands together, "and also that he's trying so hard to be the star player at our local college team and i find it really cute" you gush

"he obviously doesn't have a choice but to try and beat his hotter and better older brother. right, rin?" sae nudges someone beside him.

wait a second, did he just call out to rin?

you quickly scramble off sae's lap, bumping your head against the table in the process

both aiku and shidou let out an "oof, that's gotta hurt" making you more embarrassed than you already are. you glared at them for a brief second before turning your head to the side to see rin looking all confused and to be honest, a little weirded out

"hey rin. what brings you here?" you sweetly wave at the younger itoshi in front of you.

from the corner of your eye, you can see sae rolling his eyes and mumbling "dumbass" under his breath. before you can smack sae, rin speaks up

"my brother" rin nods his head towards sae who only gives him a look of annoyance before motioning him to spit out whatever he came for

"coach says there's been a change of plans regarding the away games and wants to have a team meeting later at the field" rin reports all stoic

sae huffs, "you couldn't just texted me this information or?"

"you blocked my number, remember?" rin rolls his eyes, gripping on his sling bag.

you let out a little gasp and smacked sae on his shoulder upon hearing the news that your best friend has blocked his little brother's number.

"sae! why would you block your brother?!" you nag, wagging your finger in front of sae's face. sae swats your hand away before he attempts to grab rin for pushing him under the bus like that when you're around

"anyway, that's all. also, mom wants you home for dinner. bye guys, bye y/n" rin shyly waves at you before he trudges away out of the library, away from his brother's impending wrath

as rin disappears from sight, suddenly an idea pops into your mind. it's just a simple favor. the next time you see him, you'll ask rin for his help, and maybe, just maybe, it will lead to something more.

"that little runt.. he's gonna get it from me" sae hisses, pulling out his phone to probably unblock rin now that you know that he got his brother blocked. sae looks over at your face in case you were about to yell his ear off but instead he was greeted with a little smile on your face

oh no. he knows that devious smile of yours

"my dearest beloved sae.. put in a good word for me to rin, would ya?" you wink

[prael]

WYR-0573: Dirty Little Student Wang Yiren And Her Sexy Secret Camgirl Life Tempts Horny Teacher Into Rough Fuck and Creampie!

Everglow Yiren x male reader smut

Thankyou @co-reborn for allowing me to spiritually succeed this fic (Everyone read it if you haven't already.)

Masterlist word count: 4,221 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It seems like everything these days is a fucking ethics issue. It's not like you're trying to do anything that's going to hurt somebody. You're not ripping off old people, you're not laundering money, you're not putting lives at risk.

Shit, it's just a bit of fun, but if anyone finds out you've had your cock inside Wang Yiren, then the ethics committee is going to eat you alive. It doesn't matter if she wants your cock in there just as badly as you do.

You have to get creative to make it work. First thing is first: get her out of your office. Sure, it's not unusual for a student to take some office time with her thesis advisor, but walking out in the state she does? Her cheeks flushed, and her blouse dishevelled, with a slight, satisfied smile on her face and her panties stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack.

People are going to notice, and that can't happen.

There's a part of you that wishes you could make it stop outright, but you can't. Every time she uploads another one of those videos, your eyes are locked to your computer screen and your cock's locked in your hand.

Maybe it's the novelty of knowing that the girl on the camera's not just any other girl on the internet; it's perhaps the fact that she's the girl that you've had inside your office. Maybe it's that her body's incredible; her tits are small and pert, her ass tight, and that little slit of a pussy is just begging to be fucked.

Or maybe, it's how openly she will sit across from you at your desk and ask you so casually what you thought of her latest video with the same sort of inflection that a student would use to ask you about the latest reading. "I wasn't really sure if the whole clamping my nipples thing worked. I mean, it was kinda hot, I guess. And I got off pretty hard, so there's that. What'd you think?"

What do you think?

You're a good guy—a good professor—so you give her honest feedback, "I thought it was hot, Yiren, but it took a while for you to get into it. Was that your first time? Playing with your nipples that way?"

"Mhm." You can see the little smirk curl up on her face, "I was hoping it wasn't obvious that I was nervous. It's tough getting started with some new kinks, you know?"

It's a strange little world the two of you inhabit. On the surface, it's the relationship of a graduate student to her thesis advisor: a mutually respectful relationship based on academic mentorship and intellectual discourse. Under the surface, it's the sort of thing that gets both of you expelled: the sort of relationship that's built on her need for you to see her get off in front of her webcam and your need for her to keep uploading videos.

But as you look at her now, you think about what she's doing. She's a twenty-something grad student who gets her rocks off by playing with herself on camera for thousands of strangers on the internet. It makes her hot. It makes her cum. And you're only too happy to be there for her. It makes you hot, it makes you cum, and there's a bit of you that feels a sense of pride knowing that even though the whole world gets to see what her face looks like when she climaxes, only you have managed to fuck her to one.

"Don't get me wrong, Yiren. It was hot. I'm sure everyone got off to it."

There's a slight cockiness to her smirk—she already knew it to be true. "And you?"

"Do you really need to ask every time?" you reply.

"Mm. Yes," she leans back on the chair in front of your desk and raises one leg over the armrest. "I like to know that you liked what I put out."

You don't miss a beat, and the words come out as casually as if you were critiquing an assignment: "I jerked myself raw, Yiren."

"I'm glad," her fingers are tracing little lines down the inside of her thighs. You lean in closer, elbows against the desk. "What part did it for you?"

"Yiren, I know what you're doing."

She starts to pull up the hem of her skirt while flashing you faux innocence with her blinking eyes. "What's that, Sir?"

"Seriously. We can't. Not here."

"I'm just showing you, Sir," her skirt is around her waist now. She's not even trying to hide her desire. Her pussy's wet. Glistening. "Looking for a little feedback. Was it my pussy? My fingers? How wet I was?"

You want to grab her, throw her onto the desk, and fuck her until the entire floor hears her scream. You want to feel your cock sink inside of her pussy, feel your skin slap against hers, feel the wetness of her desire as you thrust into her. But that would be the end of everything. "You're killing me here, Yiren."

"You know, people keep asking for more stuff with a guy. I could put it on pay-per-view, make a killing." She runs her fingers along her slit and you hear that soft little moan that's driven so many guys to bust on their keyboards. "What'd you think about that, Sir?"

You're starting to breathe hard. It doesn't matter that you've fucked this girl before. All you know is that you can't have her now. And she knows that drives you nuts.

Her finger's on her clit now and she's rubbing in circles. Her head tilts back slightly, her mouth parts, and you know she's going to cum right here if you let her go on. "Yiren," your voice is almost hoarse.

Her finger is a blur, and her voice is a half-moan, "Mm, Sir?"

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"I think I'm worth the trouble." Her chest's heaving. She's going to go off any second. "Sir," her eyes look straight at yours and there's something about that direct stare that sends a shiver through you, "Are you hard?"

You nod. There's not much else to do.

She takes her hands away from herself, leaving her pussy on the edge. You know that it's aching, throbbing. She bites her lip and stares at the growing bulge in your pants. "Maybe you can show me how you jerked yourself off the other day."

"Yiren. Fuck. Not here."

"Then where?" She snaps, clasping her legs closed and pushing her skirt back over them, "You won't do anything in your office. You won't take me home. Where, then, huh? Maybe I should just go to the headmaster and tell her what you—"

She doesn't finish that sentence. Your hand is gripping her arm tightly as you yank her up off her seat, "Come with me."

You lead her down the hallway. She's struggling, but she's grinning too. She knows she's getting her way.

Your eyes dart from left to right. It's late and the chances of running into anyone is pretty low, but still, there's always the chance.

"Sir, what's the deal?" she's laughing now. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one."

It doesn't matter. You've been in the same spot before with her. She's been begging for it, you can't do it in your office, and you need someplace quiet, someplace private, someplace where the two of you can be alone for a while.

You lead her to the parking lot and she realizes your plan. Her voice is almost mocking. "Sir, that's not exactly original, you know. A parking lot? Your car?"

"It'll do, Yiren." Your voice is firm, almost angry, and she's eating it up—you know what gets her going. "And maybe it's a bit clichéd, but we won't have any of these pesky problems of you being too loud and giving us away." You stop her at the passenger door to your sedan, lean her against the car and press yourself against her. "And trust me, you will be too loud, Yiren."

She grins up at you. She likes the sound of that. "What're we doing here, Sir? I thought you didn't want to fuck me anymore. Not after last time."

"I never said that." Your fingers run down her side and you feel the familiar thrill of touching her again, feeling her body under your fingers. "I said no more fucking in my office, Yiren," you slide your hand over her ass. "So we're here." You lean down and kiss her, and she moans as her body leans into you.

She pulls away from the kiss, panting, "But, Sir, you know what else I want." You feel her fingers reach down and run across the bulge in your pants, and her breath catches. "Mm. I want this. I want to film you, Sir. I want to film this."

It's a bad idea, you know. The riskiest of ideas. You can see her in your mind's eye: the way her face looks when she's cumming, when she's biting her lip to hold in the scream, the way her body shudders, and her eyes shut tight, the way that she gasps for air afterwards. You want her to be able to share that with the world, to get her off by getting the world off. "Fine."

"Seriously?" She looks at you in disbelief, but you've already opened the door and nudged her inside. She climbs in and crawls to the other end, tossing her purse in the front seat after she pulls out her phone. "It's not ideal but it'll have to work." You're on her in an instant, pulling her skirt up around her waist, pushing her down against the seats, kissing her, and sliding your fingers into her.

She squeals, then gasps, and then giggles as you thrust your fingers in and out of her pussy. "Mm, Sir," her moans are punctuated by each thrust of your fingers, "Fuck. Wait. I haven't even got my phone set up yet. Fuck. Wait."

You slow, just a little, just enough, then you concede and pull out. You know she wants it, needs it. You watch her hands shake as she rushes to set the phone up, she's got it in selfie mode and it's the best she can do.

"The lighting's all wrong, but who cares, right? They're here to watch you fuck me. They don't care about lighting." She's talking to herself as much as to you, but you know how she is. You know that she wants you to play along.

"Let's show them how pretty you are, Yiren." You pull out your fingers, then press your palms against her legs, pushing them apart and sliding in closer between them. You watch as she tries to hold the camera steady. Her breaths are shallow. "Show them what your pussy looks like." She turns the camera down and focuses it on her pussy. She spreads herself for the camera, showing her audience her soft pink pussy. She's so wet, you can't wait to feel her on your cock, feel that heat, that wetness, and that tightness.

"God," you groan. You've watched her videos so many times, but seeing it up close and in the flesh is always different. You run your fingers down the inside of her thigh until they brush her pussy lips, and you spread her wide. Her hips buck slightly and you watch the juices of her desire drip down the crack of her ass. You push your fingers into her, and you feel the warmth of her insides. She cries out, "Mmf! Oh god."

You take it slow. She's filming it all. You want this video to be hot. You pull out your fingers, then push them in, watching the wetness cling to them as you thrust them in and out of her pussy. "Fuck, Sir. Oh god." You curl your fingers up and press your fingertip against the spot you've learned to find. You feel the rough skin against your finger and you press into it. Her head tilts back, her eyes shut tight, and you watch as her body shudders. You push your finger harder against it, rub it, and her moans get louder.

You pull your fingers out, then push them in, slowly, rhythmically. She whines, but you don't give in. "Tell the audience how it feels, Yiren." You're teasing her now. She doesn't want you to go slow. You know she's aching for more.

"Feels so fucking good." She pants, holding the camera steady. "God, Sir. Don't stop."

"Why?"

"Mm." She whines, and you can hear that she's on the edge, "Feels so good, Sir. Your fingers feel so good in my pussy." You pull your fingers out of her, then press the palm of your hands against her thighs and spread her wider.

You take your time. Your fingers brush down the length of her pussy, from her clit down to the juices on her asshole, and you press against that tight little pucker. She gasps and you hear her moan. You press your fingers against her hole, feeling it tense and tighten against your fingers.

She lets out a sharp, shocked whine as you tease her asshole and you can't take it any longer. She knows just what you want. You lean down and press your lips against her clit, and you hear her squeal as you lick her clit. You suck her clit, tasting the juices that flow from her, and you feel her body tense up. She's so close. You pull yourself away from her and grin up at her.

She's panting hard, staring up at you. "God. I need you to fuck me." Her voice is a whine, a needy whine. You can hear her desperation.

"I know you do, Yiren," you reply, unbuckling your pants. You pull your cock free and stroke yourself a few times as she stares down at you. "I know how much you want this."

She nods, her mouth open and panting. "So much. God, please fuck me with that." You press your cockhead against her pussy, rubbing it between her lips. "Fuck, Sir, please. I love a big hard cock in my tight pussy."

You grin and whisper, "Tell them what you need, Yiren."

She looks right into the camera, "Please fuck me, Sir. I need you to fuck my pussy. I need to feel you stretch me wide. Fuck, Sir. Fuck me." She's begging and her breath is a desperate pant. "Please, I'm so wet. I want to cum with your cock inside of me. I need to."

You press yourself against her entrance, just enough to push her open, then you pull away and watch her cunt quiver at your touch. You can tell she wants to be taken, needs to be fucked hard and fast, and she knows you can give it to her.

You push your hips forward and thrust your cock into her, and you watch her pussy open and spread for you. "Fuck," she cries, her hands trembling, but you don't slow down. You thrust hard, pulling her hips into you, and you slam your cock deep into her.

"God, your pussy feels so good." Your fingers grip tight on her thighs, spreading her wide as you pound into her, and her cries fill the car.

She tries to keep the phone steady, filming you thrust into her. She can barely keep herself together. You can see the camera shaking, "In his fucking car. You hear that? He couldn't even wait to get me home. He needed to fuck me. He spends all day watching me in class, thinking all these dirty little thoughts about me, and then he just can't take it anymore and he fucks me right in the parking lot. And you know what? I'm gonna fucking cum because of him."

You're going hard and fast and she's so fucking tight. You can hear her moaning and groaning with every thrust, and her pussy is clenching around you. You can tell she's on the edge, her pussy is trembling around you, and she's screaming for more. You know that the video is probably a mess, a shaky, poorly framed mess of her tits shaking, her face pulling the dirtiest of expressions and her pussy getting fucked.

Her words are getting more erratic. She can barely keep it together, so you snatch it from her hand, record the way you thrust into her, how your balls slap against her cunt. She moans louder when you do and you realize she likes that you're the one recording her.

The camera pans up to her face. You want to see her cum. You want to film it. "Cum, Yiren." Your voice is loud and commanding. "Cum on my cock. Let them see you cum on your teacher's cock."

Her hands are above her head, grasping at the leather seats. Her back arches beneath you and her head is thrown back, pressing into the very same upholstery that her fingers do. Her hips shudder and you feel her insides squeeze around your shaft as she cries out, "Fuck!" The sound of your flesh slapping into her flesh fills the car, and she's a writhing, whimpering, cumming mess as you pound her through her orgasm.

You keep filming as you reach down, and with one hand, rip open the buttons of her shirt. Three of them come flying off, pinging around the car and leaving a lopsided mess of fabric and bra that exposes the flesh of one of her pert tits. It doesn't take long before your hand is gripping her breast, pinching at her nipple, tugging at her flesh as you keep pounding into her.

Yiren gets the message, pulling the rest open on her own and pulling down her bra, exposing both tits. Her fingers are on her own nipple, tugging at it and pinching. You watch the way she teases herself, the way her body reacts, and the way she's still shivering from her orgasm. She's a mess and you love seeing her that way.

If there's something painfully obvious from her videos, it's that one is never enough. So Yiren doesn't even need to ask, you're already guiding her onto her knees and then pushing her forward so her face is against the glass. "Show them your ass, Yiren."

You hold the camera in your hand and record the image of her reaching back and pulling her skirt over her hips, exposing her bare ass and pussy to you. You record as she reaches back and spreads her cheeks for the camera, letting her fingers pull apart her wet pussy and letting your audience see that tight, puckered asshole.

"Sir," you watch her face pressed against the window. Her breath leaves an opaque cloud against the cold glass, "How does my ass look?" You can't help it, your free hand comes crashing down against her skin and you watch it ripple under your palm. "Oh!"

You grin at her reaction, "You look like a naughty little girl who needs a good spanking."

"Oh, Sir," she moans, "What did I do?"

You slap her ass again, and again, watching it redden under your hand. "Such a naughty little girl. Making a mess in my office." You're slapping her again, watching her ass jiggle and turn pink.

Yiren whimpers, "I did. I was so naughty."

"What did you do, Yiren?"

"I was so fucking wet. I couldn't stop touching myself."

"Why were you wet?" You spank her again and you watch as her hips press back into you, "Tell your viewers what made you so wet that you needed to touch yourself."

"I needed you." Yiren's panting hard, her voice a needy moan, "God, I need you to fuck me. I was thinking about your cock. How good it felt when you fucked my pussy. I wanted you to fuck my pussy again."

You push her forward, letting her hands come down against the foggy glass. Her ass is up in the air and you're pressing your cock against her pussy. She's still wet from her cum and it takes no effort at all to thrust deep into her.

You're so deep in her wet folds. Her soft embrace is warm, tight, and you feel yourself slide deep inside of her, and you watch as her face twists and contorts in pleasure, in desire.

"Show them what they're doing to you, Yiren. Show them how they make you feel." You pull the phone up to her face, filming her moans, her cries, the faces she makes as you fuck her. "You like it when they watch, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this and they have to watch."

She's panting, moaning, and nodding. Her hips press back into you as you pound into her and you watch her ass ripple and bounce with each thrust.

You reach around and grab her tie. She always wears it loose, but it's still enough to pull it up tight against her throat, pull her back into you. You wrap it twice around your hand and it yanks her up straight, her body against your chest. She's panting hard as her hands come up and try to claw at the tie around her throat.

She can't stop moaning, crying, and she can barely breathe, and you watch as she struggles to hold on, her head tilting back and resting on your shoulder. You film her as she struggles to hold it together. She can barely keep her eyes open and her voice comes out as a desperate, choked moan.

You let go of the tie, and it unravels in your hand. You watch her slump forward and her hands come down to the seat. Her face presses into the leather and she's whimpering. "You're such a good girl, Yiren." You press yourself deep inside her and grind your hips against hers, "Such a good girl for taking my cock."

She groans, "Thank you." She's still pushing back against you and her eyes are shut tight. "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girls get a treat, don't they?" You grin and you run your fingers against her asshole. "I bet you like a nice treat for being such a good girl."

Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter, "Please, Sir."

You press your finger against her hole, and she pushes her ass back, and you feel her ass relax and open for your finger. Her tight asshole squeezes your finger tight and you hear her moan, and her pussy clenches your cock. "Fuck."

"Oh god, Sir," she moans. She's a needy, whining little mess, "Please cum in me."

Her words are like music to your ears. Her body is trembling under you, and she's moaning for you to cum. Her words are so desperate. She's begging, and you can't resist. Your hand is gripping her ass, with a finger slipped inside, and you pound into her, feeling her tight, wet cunt squeeze around you.

"Fuck, Sir, please," she begs. "Breed your favourite little student. Fill her up with your cum." She's crying out, her voice echoing inside the car.

Your hips shudder as you thrust deep into her and feel your balls clench, you can't take any more, and your cock is pulsing, throbbing, and your cum is filling her, flooding her insides, and her ass is trembling around your finger. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is pounding, and you can barely breathe. She's still pushing her ass back against your hand and her body is shivering with every pulse of cum that your cock pumps into her. You keep thrusting, feeling her pussy tighten and milk your cock.

When it's all over, you watch as she slowly pulls away from you, and you see the thick white seed drip from her hole and onto her thighs. She sits back on her knees and looks right into the camera. Her chest is flushed and heaving. Her hair's a mess, and her shirt's hanging open. Her makeup's running and there are tears on her cheek. But there's a satisfied look on her face.

She's grinning from ear to ear and you can't help but grin along with her. "That," she pants, still trying to catch her breath, "is how I get a good grade in class." Her words are followed with a giggle and then she leans forward and shuts off the camera. Her hand finds the back of your neck and she pulls you into a kiss. Her lips are hungry and her tongue presses into your mouth. Your hand wraps around her head, and your fingers get tangled in her hair as you pull her closer and deeper into you.

She pulls away, a smile on her face, and a twinkle in her eye, "You're a natural, you know. You really know what they want. Makes sense, you are one of them."

"Thanks." You laugh. You can't help but notice that her hand's between her legs, rubbing and stroking. She's unsatiable.

"Sir? Since I'm such a good student, does it mean you'll take me home and fuck me in your bed?"

[hellsslibrary]

Can I request what rin, sae and hiori would do on the reader's birthday (you know nsfw stuff ♡)

Happy Birthday to Me or How I Lost the Ability to Walk Even Though I'm a Top (This is a quote from some manga I can't remember the name of but it fits here).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I have absolutely nothing to say but if anyone is reading this on their birthday then happy birthday to you sweeties!!

!!Warnings: male!top!reader, bottom!characters, they're all sub but Sae is a little bit of a dom (I'm just a sucker for the "pathetic" top trope or something, you don't get it), Hiori's scenario is very funny and weird, very. In Sae's mentions clothes (you know), in Hiori's mentions video games (yeah), Rin is nothing special, he's the most normal one in this scenario I swear. Otherwise just praise, a little teasing and a very enthusiastic reader here.

Hiori Yo

"Is this...? What is this, Yo?" you ask in incomprehension, staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out what you actually see here.

Well, more precisely, you understood what you were seeing, but you clearly didn't understand why he was showing it.

"This is us, in Sims 4... Having sex. What is unclear?" he answers by tilting his head to the side with a slight blush coloring his cheeks, looking first at the screen and then at you.

"So my gift is watching porn with us, or rather with toy models of us?" you laugh when two people who look like you change their positions in a game that looks very good... unrealistic, but who really cares.

"No," Hiori shakes his head slowly, removing the headphones around his neck and placing them on the table, then poking you in the chest. "They can do it on any surface and in any position... If you like a certain pose, then we'll try it in reality."

You just blink like an owl, not understanding anything at all, but taking the mouse from him and poking it on the countertop, choosing random poses from the list, watching how sim of Hiori literally bends in different poses, which looks pretty hot, even if stupid.

It takes about fifteen minutes while you're pointing at various pieces of furniture and looking at all sorts of poses from different angles, sometimes you both giggle at some strange animations until one catches your eye.

"It," comes out of your mouth, and Hiori stares at the screen, watching his sim sit on the table while the life is practically being fucked out of him, judging by the pace of the thrusting.

"Really? Dear, it's a little..." the word doesn't come out of his mouth when he bites his lip in embarrassment, but after hesitating for a couple of seconds, he gets up from his chair, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and sitting on the edge of the table. "I'm already prepared, so you can just slide inside."

You immediately smile like a child who has received the most coveted sweet, and you almost frantically undo your belt, which is not particularly possible because of the trembling in your fingers. So you just unbutton your fly and take out your dick.

"Really? Can I do it raw?" Hiori hums in response to this question, and then shrugs his shoulder vaguely, spreading his legs as an answer, and squeaks when you squeeze his hips right there.

Hiori's back arches when he feels your cock sliding in at a much more gentle pace than your sims, who continue to fuck behind Hiori's back. His fingers grip the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as his feet lightly scratch the table.

"Wrap your legs around me, please?"

Yo silently obeys, grabbing your shoulders instead, absolutely spoiling the pose, but neither of you really care anymore. After all, today is your day, and if that's what you want, then Hiyori wants to obey.

He moans softly into your neck as his legs lock over your tailbone and an intermittent whimper escapes his lips when your cock finally touches the right spot inside him. A point that makes him see the stars and the moon, which only you can bring.

The blue-eyed man feels his cock twitching against his stomach, and his orgasm is approaching embarrassingly fast, he just wants to cum. Why is it so fast? Who knows... But obviously not from the disgusting sounds of the game in the background.

"Cum for me, come on," you whisper, sliding your lips over his neck, making him tilt his head back in bliss.

Your teeth outline his adam's apple, causing his breathing to stop and his nails to dig into you this time. He bubbles something unintelligible when he feels your hand on his cock, rubbing its current tip, making him cum almost at the same second, which makes you slow down the thrusts slightly, making them deeper to prolong his pleasure for a couple of seconds.

"... More, go on," Hiori mutters after a dozen seconds, licking his dry lips and lifting his half-closed eyes at you and exhaling. "I'm all yours today, so keep going... I'll tell you when I'm at the very edge."

Sae Itoshi

"Are you going to stare at me with that expression for a long time? At least close your mouth," Sae says, looking at your surprised face in the doorway while you stare at him for about a minute, still trying to figure out what's sitting in front of you.

"That's... you... wow..." something inarticulate weakly escapes from your lips until you finally leave the doorway, closing the door and approaching Itoshi.

Of course, nothing too surprising was sitting on the bed. It was just Sae. In your usual T-shirt. In regular shorts. With a normal expression on his face. With damn attractive thigh-high stockings that accentuated his thick and muscular legs too well. Yes, you know, the usual Tuesday of any person.

"Do you like it that much?" Sae asks when a slight smirk blooms on his lips, watching you sit down in front of him, spreading and sliding his legs as you please.

"Yes, it suits you damn well, it's simple gorgeous... Strangle me with them," you whisper, squeezing his hips and exhaling contentedly, feeling the elastic muscles under your fingers.

Sae's fingers lift your chin and he gives you a light peck on the forehead before kissing you on the lips. His kiss is slow, almost savoring, as he weaves your tongues together, tugging at your shirt to get you up.

You lower Sae to the bed, continuing to kiss him, and then pulling away, lowering your lips lower, kissing and occasionally sucking on the delicate skin of his neck, causing a soft sigh to escape his lips before he stopped you at the edge of the T-shirt.

"Too fast. Don't go any further than the neck... Today is your day, but you have to earn it," the Japanese man whispers against your lips and then you feel his fingers slide into your pants while his other hand unbuttons your fly and releases your cock.

Your breath catches when you feel his fingers wrap around your heated flesh, and your face immediately finds itself in the curve of his shoulder, causing him to briefly pat you on the head.

"I'll give you what you want anyway. Just wait."

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering when Sae's thumb runs over your slit, and images of what he might let you do to him when the time comes are already spinning in your head.

Your hands are clutching the sheets on either side of his face, and his lips are lazily sliding over your neck, sucking on your skin, forcing you to push into his hand, which he freely allows.

"Sae... I will cum now, please," you exhale and feel only the nod of his head at your side as he speeds up his hand movements a little, making you come embarrassingly quickly with a groan.

Sae kisses you on the temple, removing his hand after a couple of seconds, when the buzz finally subsides and gently pushes you to your side, sitting up straight and taking napkins from the table, wiping his hand and your penis from the sperm.

"Good boy. Take a break and let's continue... There's a lot more under my clothes," Sae whispers, turning away to the trash can and deliberately bending over too much, exposing a thin strip of panties under his shorts, which makes your soft cock twitch in anticipation of the next round.

Rin Itoshi

"Is that really all you want? You can ask for more, you know," Rin whispers, leaning over you, shaking his head slightly and taking your condom-wrapped cock in his palm, stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes! Definitely, that's it. Please? I just want you to do this," you whisper, making Rin sigh, but nod and lower himself onto your cock slowly.

He exhales sharply as he takes you completely and places his hands next to your head, considering that he's almost lying on top of you and looking up at you with his turquoise eyes.

You just smile and kiss him on the cheek, which makes him frown slightly but blush, and he begins to gently move his hips. Of course, it's not very convenient in this position, but he promised.

"You're wonderful from this angle, otherworldly, Rinnie," Rin just tightening around you from the compliment, leaning in even lower and gagging you with a kiss, but hey, you're not complaining.

You put your hands on his cheeks, knowing full well that he's going to scold you, because he wants to take at least one round without your support, so you're not taking any chances.

Your tongues slide against each other, and then he pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his forehead on yours, maintaining his slow rhythm, looking down at where you connect.

"You're very deep, I want more," he whispers breathlessly, closing his eyes and focusing on his movements, trying not to rush too much, but to make it pleasant for both of you and not cum faster than you, not this time.

"Then take more, I don't mind," you close your eyes too, feeling his eyelashes lightly brush your forehead as his face slides forward a little and you squeeze his biceps, absolutely enjoying him.

"I love you. Happy birthday again," Rin says, forcing you to open your eyes and you are met with a surprisingly soft smile, albeit almost imperceptible on his face but fuck.... "...Did you just cum?"

"Uh..." You laugh shyly, grabbing Rin's hips to stop his movements, when they get a little painful from your sensitivity. "I love you too."

"The gods... Fuck me already, you're pathetic when I ride you," the younger Itoshi mutters, although there's no real mockery in his words, he just sighs when you flip you over, switching places and wrapping his legs around your waist.

[rabotimagines]

jealous cons sounds really funny, especially if they can't do anything but mald

TOP DECEPTICON MALDERS LETS GOOOO!

"Hero" GN BOT Reader x Megatron, Starscream, Blitzwing, Skywarp

Summary: Your friends save you from the Decepticons. The cons get pissed they missed another chance at you! Then you even kiss your friend on the cheek in thanks! (Scandalous, I know.)

G1 characters: Megatron, Starscream, Blitzwing, Skywarp. (The Autobots that save Reader are Optimus, Bluestreak, Tracks, and Hound!)

Genre/Theme: Cross faction Jealousy

Warnings: Blitzwing is a menace and mentions thinking of ripping readers' modesty panel off. It doesn't happen, but y'know. The Decepticons being brats experiencing being told "No" for the first time (The Cons are malding real bad). The cons generally assuming they have a "right" to Reader.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: This is based on teasing/flirty Autobot Reader, whom the Decepticons get a bit too interested in. Reader knows what they're doing and they do it specifically to fuck with the Decepticons. Via kissing your Autobot friends on the cheek!

Megatron is mad- he's not just mad he is furious when Prime, the fool that he is, puts himself between you and Megatron. Now, if it was any of the other puny Autobots, Megatron would not have cared nearly as much. Because to Megatron, the average Autobot mech meant nothing. They were measly target practice to him! But Prime? Optimus Prime was not any mere mech! He was the slagging closest Megatron would come to finding an equal, let alone out on this rock.

But Prime saves you as he does- the withering sparkdamn fool. And Megatron finally nearly had you in his grasp, and Prime had to come and rip you away from him. Megatron has to pull himself back up to find Prime still holding you against his own frame. "My hero!" You say as you smile the blasted way you do when you look at the other Autobots and you- Megatron can not hide his scowl when you throw your arms around Primes frame and kiss him on the side of his battle mask. Primes optics brighten and widen, and his sparkdamned plating even fluffs under your affections.

Megatrons cannon starts humming loud in response to his own emotional receptors and his own blindly consuming urge to shoot then and there. But Megatron knows he's lost- and that just makes his cannon start smoking in barely restrained murderous indent. "This isn't over Prime!" Megatron snarls out with a digit pointed firm at him. Megatron growls and calls for the Decepticons to retreat. And in his still stewing rage, Megatron internally begins making new plans for the next opportunity he has to try and obtain a hold of you.

Megatron would not come so close to getting a hold of you again and fail twice. Prime wouldn't know what hit him!

-

Starscream is positively fuming! He'd gotten a hold of you again, and he'd made sure those fragging terror twins were busy when he did it. But the fragging praxian stopping him! Not even the battle computer- it was the sparkdamn annoying one! Starscream openly glares at where you two were standing next to one another. You just smile the infuriating way you do at the Autobots. "My hero!" You exclaim, and Starscream bafflingly watches you throw your arms around the praxian- and you even kiss him on the cheek!?

The praxians optics widen and brighten quickly. And his dumb little insignificant door sensors hike high and start twitching. He smiles like a fragging imbecile and even laughs. Laughs about it! Starscream's engines growl hot in righteous fury. How dare this little insignificant praxian Autobot pede solider get in between Starscream and his claim on you!? Starscream had every fragging right in taking you apart, plate by plate for everything you'd put him through! And he almost had you- no, he did have you! And you got ripped right out of his grasp.

And Starscream is positively fragging seething about it. Starscream clenches his servos so tight his joints creak. His wings raise high at an angle, promising violence of the highest intensity. And Starscream knows he needs to retreat because they'd lost. He'd lost. Starscream bares his denta and has to force himself to turn on a pede and retreat. Starscream is irate but he's decided to start scheming once more- if Starscream couldn't get you alone on the battlefield naturally he'd just have to figure out how to distract your fellow sparkdamn Autobots- then you'd be all his for the taking.

If there was one thing Starscream was, it was tenacious. And he wasn't about to stop before he had you in his grasp.

-

Blitzwing was having a fragging good day- a really good one! He'd smashed some buildings, made the puny humans run like the vermin they were. He even smashed up a few Autobots! Oh, and then- and then! He got into a fight with you, and he started winning. Actually winning. Blitzwing actually managed to pin you down, and he was going to rip your modesty panel right off of you- and then Blitzwing gets hit hard and knocked down. And he's lost his fragging grip on you-! It ends with Blitzwing on his aft and you having gotten away from him.

You're standing next to the Autobots discount triple changer! You're brushing the dirt off your frame all before you throw your arms around the blue mech "My hero!" Then you even kiss him on the cheek! The mech jerks and pulls away from your touch and wipes his own cheek- is he stupid? His plating fluffs, and he crosses his arms over his chassis to turn and glare at Blitzwing instead. But Blitzwing had wings, so he knows exactly what it means when the mechs wings rank up high and fan out. And all three of Blitzwing's engines rumble because he was not a happy mech.

Slagging sparkdamnit all! Blitzwing had you right there! You were even under him already- But No! The knock-off poser had to go and get involved and mess everything up for Blitzwing. Whatever! Blitzwing's broken Mr. broody blue over there's frame before! Blitzwing just had to do it again, and then he'd have you all to himself. Except now you're brandishing your own weapon, and now Blitzwings gonna have to pin you all over again! Gah!! Why the in the pit did this reject have to ruin everything for Blitzwing! Blitzwing rushes forward with a shout- and skids to a stop right before he picks up any real momentum because Megatrons calling for retreat! Blitzwing takes one long look at you two before vowing to rip the blue mechs wings off the next chance he got before taking off.

Blitzwing wasn't gonna stop till he had you back under him where you belonged!

-

Skywarp's laughing when you miss another shot on him when he warps. This was going great! He had you alone out here away from the other Autodorks, and he was actually wearing you down! Now he just needed to grab you- Skywarp warps close and latches onto your waist only he stops and cycles his optics because uh- there's another mech on his left- and another on his right- There's three of you suddenly right in front of him!? The two versions of you on his side push forward and get into Skywarp’s faceplate, making him let go of the you he was holding. huh!? Is this one of Skywarps reflux recharges?! Both versions of you grin and then just- disappear!?

Skywarp cycles his optics, and his gaze snaps to the you a ways away. Where you're now standing next to the green Autobot scout. Aw, frag it all! He used his sparkdamn illusions on Skywarp! "You little-!" Skywarp stops short when you turn towards the jeep and throw your arms around him.

"My hero!" You sing all before- kissing the grounder on the cheek!? Wha-?! The grounders' optics brighten, and his plating ruffles up. He even rubs the nape of his neck cables all shy and slag- What the frag!? That should be Skywarp! Not some dirty green hippie grounder who can't keep his olfactory in his own business! Skywarp's wings slant, and he's imagining exactly what cavern he's gonna drop this fragging jeep over-

And his HUDs flashing that Megatron ordered a retreat! "Slag it all!" Skywarp growls before turning back to the two of you and pointing at you. "Next time, gorgeous!" Then the jeep steps in front of you- and oh, Skywarp so wants to rip his fuel tank out for it. His HUD flashes again, and Skywarp flashes a rude gesture at the jeep all before warping away. He almost had you! Frag! Skywarp just needed to get you alone again- Skywarp could do that! Easy!

Skywarp just needed to do that, and he'd have you all to himself!

[shuenkio]

HIS DARK SIDE | ❤️‍🔥

Paring: Dom!Hoon X m!reader

Genre:Heavy Smut. [MDNI 18+]

CW: Gym sex, sweatpants, belly bulge, friends with benefits, cumming inside, nsfw.

Summary: Your eyes are stuck on Sunghoon grey sweatpants.

A/N: This was my first time writing explicit scenes so please bare with me >< (update note on 080824)

Sunghoon being a college student who also engages in skating as a hobby, and takes great pride in his job, asks you to come along and support him at competitions. Despite your lack of direct contribution, your presence is more than enough for him.

On a regular day, Sunghoon requests your presence at the gym, where he has rented the entire facility just for the two of you. The fact that he is wealthy and somewhat famous contributes to this arrangement.

As you open the door to your dorm room, Sunghoon stands before you, towering over you in his gym attire and a gym bag hanging from his shoulder. He appears particularly appealing in his gray sweatpants, immediately catching your attention. Embarrassed and feeling your face heat up, you can't help but silently gulp, anticipating the inevitable outcome of this sight. Sunghoon, noticing your stunned silence, inquires about your reaction.

When Sunghoon questions your silence, wondering if his outfit is unattractive, you quickly reassure him that it's not the case. He explains that he sent a message the night before, but you didn't see it. He then shows you the message as proof. Despite your busy college schedule and reliance on a computer for work, Sunghoon offers you $50 for attending the gym with him.

"Take it or not" hearing the word money, you agree without hesitation and rush to change into your gym clothes.

As you enter the rented gym alongside Sunghoon, he begins his workout routine, leaving you to explore on your own. Being new to the gym experience, you looking for a relatively less strenuous activity like a treadmill and low-weight dumbbells.

Initially, it proves challenging, but eventually, you find yourself adjusting to the routine and breaking a sweat. Wearing a black top, you're fortunate that it doesn't reveal the sweat as much. Meanwhile, Sunghoon efficiently goes through half the gym's equipment, revealing his toned biceps and visible veins. Despite his slim build, his unique physique captivates your attention.

You take a break from your workout, feeling exhausted and with sweat soaking your head. You approach Sunghoon, who's lifting weights in a lying position. The sight of his muscles flexing under his tight compression tank top captivates you. However, feeling self-conscious about being a "creep," you try to look away. Unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is well aware of your gaze, even with his headphones on, making your attempt to look away a bit pointless.

Watching Sunghoon exercise, you noticed his crotch area becoming more obvious under the tight grey sweatpants.

His growing erection strained against the fabric, clearly visible as he lifted weights.

The sight stirred feelings of excitement and nervousness within you.

"Did he get... Hard by just lifting weights?" You couldn't believe it, but the evidence was right in front of you.

His erection strained against the tight fabric, causing a throbbing sensation within your own body.

Despite the discomfort, you knew this was a rare opportunity - something his fans would kill for. So, you sat still and endured the pain, determined not to miss a single second of the show.

Once Sunghoon completed his workout, you attempted to nonchalantly divert your gaze, feigning that you hadn't been intently observing him the entire time. He took off his headphones, catching his breath as he chugged down the water.

"Enjoy the view?" A smirk played on his lips, indicating that he knew exactly what had caught your attention.

"Shut up", you protested half-heartedly, folding your arms across your chest. It was just once!

"Just admit it, you want me" he murmured seductively into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he is leaning down. Not only was his body radiating heat, but the raw sexual energy he exuded made you dizzy with desire.

"But..." you hesitated, unsure how to respond to this new side of Sunghoon. You always thought of him as a friendly guy who occasionally asked for favors and invited you to his skating competitions. Yet here he was, dominating and undeniably horny.

"Explore as you please m/n or I'll make you instead" Sunghoon urged with a mischievous smile

Taking advantage of the situation, you hesitantly reached out and felt his size through his pants. The shape of his impressive length sent a thrill coursing through your fingers. He responded with a soft moan, evidently relishing your touch. As you continued stroking him, he couldn't hold back any longer and lowered his pants, revealing his long, pale cock - already wet with pre-cum. Watching it stand tall ignited an intense desire within you to push him over the edge completely. Without warning, Sunghoon's darker side surfaced suddenly.

Unable to resist any longer, Sunghoon picked you up and placed you on his abs, wrapping your legs around his waist while holding onto his shoulder. In a flash, he asked for permission to enter you. His eyes were half lidded and needy, revealing just how much he desired you. You nodded enthusiastically in agreement.He grinned wickedly and lowered you onto his hardness, causing your body to shake as soon as the tip touched you. Both of you found yourselves lost in the moment - not in a private room but among the gym's equipment.

With a casual smirk, Sunghoon began thrusting into you with increasing force, mimicking the rhythm of his workout. The combination of exercise and sex proved to be exhilarating, belly bulge on you. You cried out in ecstasy as he continued to drive himself deeper inside you, while Sunghoon threw his head back, thoroughly enjoying every moment.

As Sunghoon continued to thrust into you with increasing pushing, the sensation of his hardness filling you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Shi-shit i feel it coming m/n"

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed throughout the gym. His grip on your hips tightened as he drove himself deeper inside you, eliciting soft gasps from your lips that mingled with his own ragged breaths. You could feel every inch of him within you, stretching and claiming you in equal measure.

You were too embarrassed to say anything, all you do was moaning and cried in this sensitive moment. Your nails digging on his back, your dick began to feel the sensation, feeling like soon to be coming.

"It's coming m/n l- let's cum together oo?"

As the climax approached, Sunghoon felt a surge of pleasure coursing through their veins, his cock grow hard as a rock. With one final push, both of you released the intense orgasm together.

He trembled slightly, as Sunghoon filled you with warmth and intimacy. Breathing heavily like puppies. Your hole is now stretching wide open, then he pull his throbbing out of you.

"It's feel like heaven like they said m/n,i- i want more!"

Usually man's glans get very sensitive after cumming but Sunghoon didn't care. His tip is still dripping with orgasm, however he drive inside you once again!

"FUCK NO! MY HOLE"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to dividers!

🗣️ I KNOW THIS IS NOT HOW SH ACT BUT IMAGINE HE'S WILD LIKE THIS?

[homunculus-argument]

My usual problem of "and then some other shit happens" is that they keep piling up on top of each other. This morning, I was just about to start work when

mail comes in. I've received a letter from the tax office.

I open the letter and get a Fuck No Way That's Right kinda bill.

time to hit up my accountant and ask what the fuck do I do now

realise that I haven't delivered my accounting stuff for like four months either, gotta apologise to her about that too

e-mail doesn't go through, double-check the address, re-type my whole apology and explanation again

four consecutive e-mails do not go through

fuck I gotta call them, where's my phone

just as I was about to make a phone call, I receive a phone call

forgot I had a phone appointment with my doctor, turns out I do not have a natural physical resistance to poison damage, and my medication resistance is something else.

confident in my ability to execute two unrelated tasks at once, I take a sip of my tea while on the phone. Naturally I fuck it up and pour the lukewarm tea on my lap instead.

figuring that since I'm unhurt and only poured enough to soak my clothes, not my chair, I'll just sit with the wet tea on my lap until the phonecall is over, and hang them to dry on the balcony later.

phonecall done, I remove my clothes and go hang them up to dry.

spot my little ficus tree cutting on the balcony, decide to water it since it's so hot and I don't want the thing to die.

coming back inside after leaving my clothes on the balcony, my boyfriend sees me undressed and wants affection.

he also wants to show me a video that he came upon.

make myself more tea

coming back to my computer, remember the phonecall I was supposed to make.

call the accounting people and tell them I can't e-mail the person I worked with, and get informed that the person I had been working with quit unexpectedly, and the one currently running the whole business on her own will look into my shit once she's personally out of the hospital. She meant to call me earlier about What The Fuck I'm Doing but unfortunately hospital.

promise her to deliver my accounting things today since it's the least I can do to not make her day any worse than it already is.

save through my paypal activities, log onto my online bank, check my account and do some math to confirm that I should more or less be alright until my next payday. Move some more money to my bank card account for groceries, and log out.

remember that the reason why I logged into my bank in the first place was the accounting, and log back in to get that data.

send my records to my new current accountant with apologies for not doing that for four months despite of being supposed to do it monthly.

finally done with that, satisfied of actually Getting Things Done, I suddenly realise I've spent the past three hours on random sidequests, haven't even touched whatever it was that I was planning to do today, and top of that I've completely forgotten what it was that I meant to do.

waste another half an hour writing a meticulous account of how I spent my morning doing everything else than what I meant to.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

LOSS OF MY LIFE

formula one x horror actor!reader

request: I'm hoping this is thw right way to ask for requests but we live and learn ig. Anyway what about how the drivers would react to reader being in some sort of horror film and they end up dying?

summary: your boyfriend reacts to your death in a movie.

warnings: mild descriptions of death and gore, swearing, i think that's it?

contains: charles leclerc, gabriel bortoleto, + ollie bearman

word count: 552

charles leclerc:

he had been so incredibly excited to see your movie. you had warned him several dozen times that it was a horror movie and not a tame one. he didn't listen, of course, and decided it was a better idea to watch it when he was alone. at night. in a hotel room he was not familiar with.

… needless to say, you weren't exactly surprised when you woke up to your phone ringing. even less surprising was hearing charles sniffling and begging you to get a flight out because he's just seen you die a very gruesome death in the movie and now he desperately needs cuddles. he's definitely got a collection of stuffed animals he uses when he needs comfort but you're not available, and his favourite is a floppy bunny. charles is holding onto that bunny like his life depends on it after watching your movie.

you end up having to call one of the other drivers and ask them to keep him company until you get there. when you do, expect to be within arm's reach of your boyfriend at all times.

gabriel bortoleto:

he's actually kind of offended that the writers had the audacity to kill you off. the second he realizes what's about to happen he'll start angrily ranting about "how dare they!!" and all that.

then he sees you covered in the (fake) blood and you're so clearly pissed off even though you're dying and he just … slowly … trails off … until he's just staring at the screen. he doesn't even respond when you poke his arm to see if he's okay. all that's going through his head is holy fuck you look hot when you're angry and covered in blood—

it takes you a little while to realise what's actually going on, and you gotta just kinda keep poking and teasing him until he breaks out of it. let's just say if you wanna go all out for halloween there … gabi's definitely on board.

ollie bearman:

i actually think he really likes horror movies even though they give him nightmares? ollie loves them and finds them so interesting and even though he's so tense the whole time he just … he loves them! so when he finds out that you're gonna be in a horror movie?

he is so excited.

ollie makes a whole night of it. he'll order food from your favourite restaurant, set up a lil blanket fort for the two of you, make sure you know that he'll be extra jumpy that night, and then get your movie set up on his laptop. he can't watch horror movies on big screen because the detail makes it too scary for him. so you'll just have to get used to watching things on a laptop screen, sorry.

finally he gets to cuddle up to you and he's so excited to watch your movie!! he gets most of the way through before your character gets killed off and ollie … he just shuts his computer immediately.

the whole rest of the night is just spent assuring your boyfriend that you're fine, you're not upset about your character's ending, and also that yes, all of the actual horror bits in the movie were fake. then—and only then—will he start talking about the actual quality of the movie and praising your acting.

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: please note that i am a wimp who can't watch horror for the life of me 😅

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[bratbby333]

please more gamer bf sukuna<3

❝ play with me, instead ❞

nsfw mdni

request from: @youliveincassisworld + 🔋anon + and two others ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ part one here + gamer!bf sukuna drabbles here cw: it's sukuna lol

gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you cockwarm him while he plays, even though you are quite the distraction.

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩♡𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

you straddle his hips, legs threading through the arm rests of his gaming chair, your bare chest flush against his clothed one. his big, throbbing cock nestles deliciously inside you.

“god you’re so fuckin’ tight on me…gonna win this one just for you, doll...then i'm all yours.”

you whimper against his neck, your needy pants sending chills down his spine.

“please...make it quick 'kuna…need you so bad,” you whine, but his eyes never break away from the monitor, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrates on his game.

you huff at his lack of attention, the stillness of his girth no longer quelling the unrelenting pangs of desire pulsing deep in your core. you slowly grind your hips into him, the thick head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot. you choke back a moan when his hand finds the back of your neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh.

"be good 'n sit still or you're not gettin' anything at all," he says sternly.

you know better than to distract him. he takes his games very seriously and absolutely hates losing. but, you also know how good he fucks you when you act up, and how rough he gets with you when the game doesn't end the way he likes...so, why not kill two birds with one stone?

you weigh both options before siding with your better judgement, your movements ceasing. you rest your cheek on his shoulder, your arms snaking underneath his arms, hugging him tight.

"good girl."

your heart flutters at his praise as you smile into his neck, nuzzling deeper into him, the smell of his cologne making your head fuzzy.

his fingers press rapidly on the keyboard, the monotonous clicks and soft sounds of gunfire fill the room.

you sit patiently, taking in the warmth of his body and the stretch of his rock hard member still deep inside you. your pussy flutters around him as he swears at his game. you love seeing him tense and focused.

you can't take it, you need more.

your soft smile shifts into a devious smirk as your hips pick up where they left off. you feel his shoulders tense against your arms as he growls deeply, jutting his hips up into you, but seemly frustrated by your deviance.

“cut that shit out, brat.”

you hum in response, suppressing a giggle, your pelvis grinding deeper into him.

you hear the sound of his computer shutting down, and before you can register what's happening, his hands anchor in your armpits, lifting you up and flipping you around, your back now firm against his chest. he positions your feet on the edge of the desk, knees bent up.

“wanna act like a disobedient brat, im gonna treat you like one.”

he takes two fingers and shoves them between your parted lips, toying with the back of your throat. you gag as your mouth inundates with saliva.

he removes his fingers from your hot, wet mouth, dragging them down your chest, leaving a trail of spit along your body. his soaked fingers dance around your folds. you lean into his rough touches, heat rising in your cheeks as he plays with the flesh around your clit.

"kuna...p-please. want your fingers...need them," you stutter out.

a deep chuckle erupts from his chest as he continues to tease you, caressing every part of you other than the place you need him most.

"you defy me and think you'll be rewarded for it? you must be out of your mind, brat." he brings his free hand up to your face.

"spit."

with his palm coated in your saliva, he strokes himself as his fingers strum in and out of your folds. you whine, the lack of attention on your clit driving you insane.

"c'mon brat, talk to me. since you wanna interrupt my game…whaddya need?"

"anythin'...please 'kuna i'm sorry. want you so fuckin' bad. i'll be good...jus' give me anything..."

you whine as you feel his fingers leave your core.

"wha- no...sukuna i-," your pleas get stuck in your throat, eyes blowing wide as his hand clenches around your neck. he tilts your head back so it's resting on his shoulder.

"you're gonna sit here n let me use your sweet little cunt..." he lets go of your throat, jostling your head around from the force of his grip.

"but brats don't get to cum."

you try to bargain with him, but his large hand clamps over your mouth. he laughs, watching your chest heave in desperation, before pressing the head of his cock to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against your dripping cunt.

he pushes into you roughly, your slickness the only thing saving you from the abruptness of the intrusion.

he leans back in the chair, connecting his forearms to the pits of your knees, pulling your legs toward your ears. he clasps his hands behind your head, and your heart drops knowing what's in store for you.

he shifts himself lower in the chair, planting his feet firmly on the ground, using his new found leverage to pummel into your gushing pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his pace. your legs push against his forearms, your body fighting for relief from his unyielding strokes. your cries resonate through the room as he bullies deeper into you.

"p-please...can't..can't take it," you beg, eyes filling with tears.

"you said you'd take anything...thought this was what you wanted, slut." he readjusts his grip behind your head, grabbing at your hair, craning your neck so he can see your face.

"look at me. open your fucking eyes...watch me destroy you." he growls, his unrelenting pace and bruising grip in your hair making you see stars. he tilts your head down, forcing you to watch him plunge in and out of you. the sight alone is enough to bring you to release.

his thick cock kisses your g-spot with every stroke. you grip down on him, choking on your moans.

"kuna..'m gonna c-cum," you stutter out, barely able to keep your eyes open. he hums in acknowledgment, and just as your body reaches its crescendo, he pulls out.

"don't even think about it...already told you no."

you cry out as his hand smacks repeatedly on your pulsating clit, sending twinges of pain and pleasure through your tired body.

"gonna use you some more...you can’t cum ‘til i say so.”

he drops one of your legs over the arm rest, tugging at his cock before he shoves back into you, finding his original pace immediately. he picks your leg back up and pulls them both tighter against your trembling body, knees rubbing against your ears as he rams deeper into you.

your body aches, every neuron firing at once, urging you to let go. the ferocity of his strokes coaxing you to paint his taught thighs with your sweet juices, but you know that if you ignore his commands the punishment will be even worse.

"fuck...f-fuck, 'kuna...i-"

he pulls out again, smacking the shaft of his dick on your puffy pussy. he grins at your tortured expression, his crazed eyes drinking in your shaking body as he edges you. you writhe around in his lap, groaning at your emptiness.

"not yet..." he teases before bottoming out inside you once again. hot, wet tears trickle down your face as you fight off your impending orgasm once again.

"this is what you wanted, right?" the heavy sound of his balls smacking into your center emphasizes his words. your head is spinning, unable to focus on anything other than the aggressive, rhythmic strokes finding the deepest parts of your sopping core.

“answer me, brat.”

“unghh…yes. yes ‘kuna. ahhh! love when you u-use me,” you babble, too overstimulated to form coherent sentences.

he releases one of your legs again, shoving his digits back into your mouth. you choke against his fingers, the sounds of your gagging sends heatwaves through his body.

the tightness in your tummy is impossible to ignore as he pounds into you like a madman, his drenched fingers rubbing rough, sporadic circles into your poor, abused clit as he continues to drill into you.

"i-i'm...ah fuck, ‘kuna i-"

you squeeze around him, making his hips stutter and his cock twitch inside you.

"mhm...i know," he purrs into your ear. "i feel you grippin' down on me...go 'head. cum for me right fuckin' now. make a mess on me." he approves, his pelvis smacking into you with fervor, fingers continuing to rub against you.

your eyes roll back as a string of incoherent curses fall from your lips as you finally meet the sweet release of your orgasm. a few more pumps and he spills his thick, hot seed into you, accompanied by a rumbling groan that vibrates through his chest and into yours. he stills against you and releases the leg that was still held up against your chest, untangling your bodies as you both work through your highs.

you brace yourself on the edge of the desk as you work to regain your breath, trying your hardest not to pass out.

he chuckles as he watches your feeble attempts at regaining your composure, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your lower back.

he leans forward, his broad frame looming over your fucked out body, his lips caressing the outer shell of your ear.

"i'll give you 'til the end of this game to recover...be ready for round two, doll," his voice low, reaching around you to turn his computer back on.

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩♡𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

author note: thank you so much for all the love on part one and part two and on the headcannons for gamer!boyfie sukuna i wrote 🥺🥺

im still working through my requests, but my inbox is always open...feel free to drop a suggestion here!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[nerdygirlramblings]

hiiii. sorry to bother. i put up the ASDA request and I was giggling and kicking my feet! it was so good!!!!

but what about someone on the opposite end? Their wife/partner who loves to be at home, having everything clean and hot meals ready for when they get home. They find a way to fill the time: reading from their constantly growing ‘to be read’ list/TBR or they took up knitting to make Soap a beanie or something for the cold winter months. She’s antisocial but loves her boys and will literally stay home for them for as long as they want her there…

im trying to be that housewife

@caffieneaddictt18 thank you for another ask! This got a little away from me, but I hope it fits what you were looking for despite the long and winding road to get there ❤️

cw: poorly executed accents

You were never a huge fan of being around others. You had your people - your family, some close friends from primary and secondary school, mates from uni - but sometimes even they drained you. Parties and dinners and just sitting around chatting until the night wore on to morning took you days to recover from. You go because it's what they expected. It's what's normal. It isn't until you've been out of uni for several years, looking for a new job that might get you out of the city, that you stumble on the social battery theory. How you've always felt suddenly makes so much sense.

You lean into the idea that you charge your battery best alone or in situations of your choosing. You find a company that doesn't let but actively wants you to telework. Your new boss says the CEO likes how telework cuts down on overhead, and the CEO'd also heard how telework boosts productivity. They pay you more than your old job did, so you can afford a little cottage in the country.

The closest town to your little cottage has a thriving pensioner population, and their activities suit you perfectly. You find things you enjoy and learn to socialize on your terms.

One afternoon, a few weeks after moving into your cottage, you stop into the fabric shop looking for materials to make curtains. The mid-afternoon sun comes in too brightly for you to see your computer screen, and while you could move your home office, you like being able to look out over your back garden as you work. In the shop, you see a flyer for a crochet class and realize it would be nice to have a cozy throw blanket over your worn couch like the one your Gran made when you were a kid. You sign up for the class without any reservation.

Another week, after setting up an account at the library, you stop in the cafe at the corner for a warm cuppa. There are seven or eight people in the shop, all sitting at the tables and in the comfy chairs at the back, but no one's talking. They aren't even looking at one another. You know they have to be a group because there are several open tables and seating spaces, but these people are sitting too close together for it to be out of crowded necessity. When you ask the man behind the counter, he tells you it's a silent book club and points out the club's leader. You don't plan to wait, but you pull your book out all the same, and when the book club breaks up, you make your way to the woman in charge. She tells you when and where they meet and says you're welcome to join whenever you want.

It's at your fourth silent book club you meet John. You've taken to sitting at one of the tall tables with Mable, a widow who said you reminder her of her own granddaughter, "But you're much more content to sit and keep an old woman company than she is, dear." Mable is not here today, so you're alone on the outskirts of the club.

You've been reading silently for the last twenty minutes when you hear a gentle cough and look up into stunningly blue eyes and a mutton-chopped framed smile. "Sorry, ma'am," the man rumbles, "but I was wondering if this seat was free."

You look around the cafe, surprised to see far more seats filled than usual. Everyone else seems to be bundled against the coming storm, coming in to warm themselves with a post-work coffee or tea. There are only a handful of open seats in the whole store. The man must have assumed you're alone, especially as the rest of the book club is sitting at the low tables or armchairs a few feet away.

He's still looking at you, and you startle to realize he's waiting on a response, so you stammer out, "Er, sure, yeah," shifting your cup a little closer and turning back to your book again. The man is quiet for a few minutes, sipping his own cup, but you can feel him looking over at you. Maybe you leave book club early tonight. You're silently cursing Mable for being out of town.

You're startled when the rich baritone next to you asks, "What are you up to?" You drag your eyes from the page, terrified about having to interact with this stranger about your life when you see him nod his head to the book in your hands. "Lamb's one of my favorites, but I don't want to spoil anything. What's happening?"

You proceed to summarize the last chapter, and he's nodding along. "Yeah, how do you feel about Biff walking away?" Normally, you hate small talk, and the whole point of silent book club is to read what you want without interacting with others, but analyzing books and movies is one of your private passions, so if this handsome stranger is willing to give you an outlet for it for an afternoon, you're happy to take him up on it. You proceed to share your thoughts on Biff and his travels, what kind of reliable (or not) narrator he is, Moore's seemingly heretical treatment of Christianity. You ramble through your and his cups, ordering more when they're empty. You don't realize over an hour has slipped by until you catch sight of the clock on the wall.

"Gracious! I can't believe I've been talking with you, at you really, for so long. I'm so sorry," your words trip over themselves with your embarrassment. Your tablemate smiles and holds out a hand.

"Name's John," he says, shaking your meekly held hand as you proffer your name. You mumble your apologies again for taking up so much of his time. "It's been a delight hearing you talk about my favorite book. In fact, it's getting on supper. Care to join me, and I can share some of my thoughts?"

You hesitate for a moment before caving, the desire to talk about the book overriding your natural aversion to these kinds of interactions.

That first dinner with John leads to several book recommendations and an offer of more meals and discussions if you are interested. No one could have been more surprised than you when you take him up on those offers too. You look forward to dinners where you discuss the social satire of Pratchett's Guards! Guards! and whether Moore's Lamb or Winterson's Boating for Beginners is more blasphemous.

By the fifth dinner, John brings one of his team - he'd told you he was military - because the man is a huge Bradbury fan and hounded John as he read The Illustrated Man. You don't know what you make of Kyle at first, but he slips easily into conversations about the role of tattoos in modern society, showing you some of his.

Dinners and book discussions with John and Kyle slowly became afternoon cinema meetings with conversations on symbolism and allegory in the cafe after. The day before you're headed to the theater to see The Grand Budapest Hotel, John texts and asks if another of his team who's big into Anderson can come. You haven't seen too many Anderson films before, so hearing Johnny talk about shared themes between The Grand Budapest Hotel and Moonrise Kingdom and The Royal Tenenbaums is a delight.

By the time John invites you to the house his team shares, for the newest season of White Lotus, you're used to Kyle and Johnny. They've all talked about Simon, so meeting him seems more like greeting an old friend. You settle comfortably onto the couch with Kyle, Johnny on the floor near your knees, John and Simon in recliners, and watch the first two episodes. Over a meal of Indian take away, Simon points out the imagery repeating itself and how it contrasts from repeated imagery in the first and second seasons.

You find your time split between work, your hobbies, and John and his team. You still go to your silent book clubs, but now Kyle joins you if he's in town. It turns out the cafe also holds a monthly crochet group of mostly older mostly female customers who sit and swap advice as they work on their current projects. You're with them one evening as you're working on a beanie for Johnny who constantly complains his head is cold when you realize you've been spending time with John and his team for nearly a year.

Two days after your revelation, you're at John's for a viewing of Won't You Be My Neighbor. You open the door with the key John gave you months ago when he asked you to check on the place when they were away. You walk in to find the table set and food out, an odd occurrence as you usually eat after watching something. You call to the boys and hear thundering steps coming from the back of the house where you know the stairs to the second floor are.

"Coming, lass!" Johnny calls, practically skidding in to the room.

"Oh, er, here," you say, passing over the completed beanie. The weather's started to turn, and you want to make sure he'll have it when he needs it. His face shows his confusion for a moment, and you rush to tell him, "You're always saying it gets too cold and you don't have a hat so..."

He's opened it up and is tracing his fingers along the change of thread from forest green to black. "Ye...ye made this?" he asks. You can't read his reaction, and you worry you overstepped.

"Er, yeah. Just something to keep you warm." He's still running his fingers along the stitches, so you ramble on. "It's as close to MacTavish tartan colors as I could find. I think it fits as the yarn stretches--"

He embraces you so suddenly you don't know what to say. He brushes a kiss against your cheek, so quickly you could imagine it never happened, and whispers, "Ah love it. Thank you." By the time he pulls back, the others have come in, and John's putting a small vase of flowers on the table.

He looks over at you as he straightens up, and he must read the confusion in your eyes because he says, "You didn't think I'd miss a chance to celebrate our anniversary, did you?"

You splutter. "Ou- our anniversary?"

He grins, the same warm, welcoming grin he gave you the first day in the cafe. "Yes, doll. It's been a year since we met." You look away, embarrassed, and feel heat rush to your face as you realize he's talking about a year of friendship and not whatever you might have thought. "Come, sit," he cajoles. "Let's talk." He takes his seat at the head of the table. Simon sits across from him with Johnny and Kyle on one side, leaving the lone seat on the other side for you.

You're skittish, unsure of yourself with these men for the first time in a long time, but you take the seat left for you. If they can tell you're nervous, they don't act like it. You catch John smiling softly at you, which makes you bashful all over again. He passes you the plate of steaks, encouraging you to take a larger portion than you dole out for yourself. You ignore him, passing your plate to Simon, asking for a large portion of vegetables instead.

"Can' just eat rabbit food," Simon grumbles good naturedly, piling roasted carrots and Brussels sprouts next to the steak before passing your plate to Johnny, who puts a sizable scoop of white beans on it before handing it back to you. You roll your eyes at how much Johnny gave you, but you grace him with a smile nonetheless.

Everyone starts eating, talking to you about their job, sharing unclassified anecdotes from their last op, asking how your job is going. Johnny shows off the beanie you made, and the others compliment your talent. Kyle mentions, not subtly at all, that the den could do with another throw for cold nights, and finally your demeanor cracks. "It'll take a while, Kyle, but sure. I think I can do that." You offer him a small smile when he beams at you.

"I'm real glad John met ya, doll," Kyle says.

Your eyes drop from his face and million-dollar smile to your lap. "Me too," you say quietly. They know about your social battery, but you've never told them how it never feels drained after time spent in their company. You look around the table and say, slightly louder, "I'm glad to have met you all."

John reaches across the space between you and pats your hand. "I'm so happy to hear that, dove, because that makes this easier." He clears his throat, much like he did that first day, and says, "You've been in our lives for a long time, but what we've never told ya is that we aren't roommates." He trips a bit over that last word, and you think back to little moments, like how closely he sat next to Kyle when Kyle first started joining your dinners, the little touches Johnny and Kyle shared at the cafe after the cinema, the looks Simon would give John when everyone else was watching the telly. "We're together. All of us." His eyes never leave yours, and the room holds its collective breath.

"That's okay, John," you respond, smiling at the trust they're showing by telling you the full truth. "I think it's sweet." You flip your hand over under his and squeeze it gently. "Thank you for telling me."

Some of the tension of the last few moments dissipates, but you sense there's more when John grips your hand back. "That's not all." Simon shifts in his seat and Johnny is uncharacteristically still. "Er, we're together-"

"You already told me," you tease, trying to lessen the stress you hear in his words.

"I did," he says, "because I want you to know we talked about this, about you, as a group." He waits until you look at him. "We're together, and we'd all like you to be part of us, too." You stare at him for several long moments as the weight of what he's telling you settles in. "We love being with you, dove, and we want to be with you fully."

As it had when you met, the silence stretches almost into uncomfortable territory, but this time, you have an audience. An audience of men who have made you feel more welcomed and more loved than your friends and family tend to. Men who have become almost your whole world.

You find yourself nodding your head ever so slightly, ever so slowly.

"Is that a yes?" Kyle chokes out.

"Yes," you whisper, and when you see the relief on John's face and hear Johnny's whoop, you say it again, louder and more clear. "Yes. I want to be with you, all of you, too." You hear a sniffle to your left and look at Simon who mutters about allergies.

The first month of your relationship with them all consists of the same things you'd been doing, but now with kisses and cuddles. You snuggle into Simon's side on the couch watching telly or hold hands with Johnny walking back from the cinema. It takes less than six months before the men ask you to move in. Their house, like your cottage, is outside town in the rolling countryside, but that's where similarities end.

Their house is a sprawling home with massive front and back gardens they encourage you to plant your favorite flowers in. They add a fifth chair to the set in the back garden, overlooking a small pond, and you take to having breakfast and tea in the back with whomever wants to join you when the weather allows. While they all sleep in one room, on an Alberta King mattress big enough to fit them all comfortably, plus you when you eventually let things get more physical, the house has space enough that each of you has your own room. They turn the sunroom into a home office for you, giving you a view into the back gardens you like so much. You teach yourself to cook more elaborate dishes in their large kitchen, and when they're home, you make sure there's homecooked food on the table to sate their appetites.

Living with your men means having very few expenses of your own. They don't let you contribute any money towards utility bills. "We've been coverin' the bills since before you were here, dove," John says. "An' we're used to coverin' 'em even if we're all on a mission and the place sat empty. 'S nice to know there's always someone 'ere and we ain't payin' bills fer nothin'."

They don't let you pay for anything at the shops either, despite the fact that you set the grocery list because you now do most of the cooking. "Doll, everything you make is so good we wouldn't dream of makin' ya pay for your ingredients on top of it all. You can buy whatever you want as long as ya keep lettin' us eat it," Kyle tells you.

Even when you want something for yourself, they don't let you spend your money. "We dinnae treat oorselves much. Nae reason to spoil one another, really, but we love spoilin' ye. Ye wouldnae take that from us, hen, would ye?" Johnny asks, holding the new dress you were planning to buy just out of reach.

By the time you've been with them for a year, you've dramatically scaled back your work hours, picking up more freelance jobs so you can control how much time you're working. When your men are working from base, you want to be around and attentive. You want time to keep the house clean and try new recipes. When your men are gone on missions, you want to find new spots for walks or new films to watch when they return. You want to browse new books to share with them. You want to work on crafts for your men: a throw big enough to fit the massive bed, a scarf for Kyle, socks for Simon, gloves for John.

They constantly tell you you're their heart and their home, what they most look forward to coming back to at the end of the day. In the same way, they're your sun; you circle them, basking in the warmth of their love, letting it sustain and nurture you. They make your life fuller than you ever imagined other people could. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

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