// This is a masterlist/intro page. Click below to read more bullshit.
// You can also look here for my fanfic tags and my works. Both are located the very bottom.
// Hello there! My name is Mothelle but you can call me Moth, Moe, Wizz (alternate alias), or just by my username! My pronouns are they/she/he and are ordered via preference, however, it's literally impossible to misgender me so just call me whatever feels natural. ;0)
// I'm a very chill and kind person that doesn't mind messages or asks from my mooties/followers! I'm a pretty shy/distant person at first but I do warm up very quickly. However, my friend age range is 16-20 so please keep that in mind! ^_^ Also... please be of age if submitting NSFW requests thank youuuu.
// I am 18 years old turning 19 in November! I started using Tumblr when I was 8, though I was more interested in Wattpad and FanFiction.net.
// I am a Polish American living in the Midwest. I have far leftist views; I'm both a socialist and an anarchist. Angry feminist, unapologetically cringe, annoyingly perverted.
// I am apart of the Punk and Goth subcultures. I am queer with a very complex identity; an intersex nixic futch/chapstick lesbian to be precise. I am also neurodivergent and chronically ill [AuDHD, PCOS, EDS, etc.]
// My special interests: computers(obvi!!), DJs, dated technology (specifically consols, cameras, phones, Ipods, and computers), zombies, Beanie Babies, pathology anatomy (specifically fetal anomalies), music and music collecting, wizards
// My hyperfixations: Chiikawa, No I'm Not A Human
< R.I.P. to my three year old CoD hyperfixation that got ambushed by Date Everything. >
// My past fandoms/communities: Undertale, Sans AUs, My Little Pony, Elements of Insanity, FNaF, Hetalia, Ouran High School Host Club, DeltaRune, Soul Eater, Vampire Knight (yuckie), Date Everything, Doctor NoWhere, The Walten Files, RPG Maker Horror Games, Corpse Party, Steven Universe, Animation Memes, FairyTail, Danganronpa, Popee The Performer, PetScop, BuckShot Roulette, Call of Duty, Welcome Home, CreepyPasta, Marble Hornets, The Mandela Catalogue, The Walking Dead (TellTale Game), The Sims 3, Champions Of Norrath, Team Fortress 2.
< Anything in red is stuff I'm getting back into/still linger in.>
// You've made it to the Masterlist! Welcome user!
// As I post more, I'll add them here!If you ask nicely, I will consider adding your special guy to this list! Though, I will mostly focus on No, I'm Not a Human based content; more so just my favorite characters + ships. [Enerjeka Addict, Wireface, Tattooed Woman, Widowed Woman, Coat Guy, Protag] {WireCoat, PaleGun, PaleLante, GunLante, ColdGun}
[PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: I'm still expirementing with character x character works! I've written 'x readers' my whole life please have pity on poor old me </3]
< MAC >
SFW/NSFW Headcannons
Jealous Mac (NSFW)
Mousesuit Mac (NSFW)
Ribbon Lingerie Mac (NSFW)
Slavic!Reader x Mac (SFW)
Needy Mac (NSFW)
Marathon Sex (NSFW obvi)
Pillow Princess Reader (NSFW)
Panty Thief Mac (NSFW)
Panty Thief Mac PT 2 (NSFW)
Mac w/ chastity belt (NSFW)
Breeding Kink Mac (NSFW)
Sounding Rod Mac (NSFW)
Hello!!! Hello friends!!! Long story short,,, I really want to write a WireCoat fic but! I want input first. What do you guys like in these fics? What tropes do you want to see? What's a storyline you dream of with these fellas??? If you guys give enough input I'll make it multi-chapter too. maybe. I JUST NEED IDEAS AND I KNOW YOU GUYS HAVE EM!!!
I'm looking forward to any and all responses, thank yewww!!
A note from me at the beginning too because I looooove talking about myself, feel free to skip!
Tags: bottom coat guy, top reader, both are desperate however, pathetic coat guy obviiii, just some awkward blue guy in your house that wears your clothes, technical monsterfucking, frotting, begging, sloppy makeouts, no slowburns around here, foreign reader who can speak russian, porn with long but minimal plot, strangers to friends to lovers
HELLO PEOPLE!! :0) gosh it's been so long since i've posted here. I just realized that this is technically just wirecoat in wireface's pov. my god. the prophecy......even tho this fic was originally written for my friend Alex as a birthday gift,,,, his birthday was in February but I'm just now making it an x reader. But heyyy I've been busy with work and going to the 2026 Miku Expo and watching death note. You can't be mad at someone who went to miku expooooo noooo you can't be mad at meeee. Also pls keep in mind that I'm not russian. I'm not from russia. My mom is from Poland. Any mistakes about this god damn country is unintentional and im sorry. but anyways I hope you guys like it. gulp.
After the cataclysm struck your city, life really was never the same. It spread like a wild disease, the sun’s unmerciful heat burning the earth from the equator up to your small town in Northeast Russia. Multiple government officials told the nation not to worry too much–Russia was known for being cold after all–but, geographic location didn’t save you; it couldn’t save you. Russia was a better place to suffer through this than your home country, you supposed, the winters would be a decent time of the year during this sudden apocalypse. Plus, you didn’t really have to worry about your families wellbeing here with the distance; you knew deep down that they were dead. Though, you never did get used to people calling you nicknames all the time here, your original name was just too knocked into your brain to forget. The way your name rolled off of your neighbor’s tongues was just too foreign for you to ever get familiar with.
It didn’t take long–or much–for your home to become a sort of…sanctuary for travelers or lonely souls with no place to be. It was best to stick together in groups, you figured, and having some company for once might not be so terrible. Many visitors, zombies and humans alike, have passed through your home in the past few weeks, some more or less forgettable than others. It was interesting to hear their life advice, hardships, stories, and just getting to know a variety of different people, but, talking to them always made it more difficult if you failed to detect a visitor inside of your walls. One minute some man is talking about his ‘profitable schemes’ and the next…his blood is splattered across your kitchen walls and his body shoved into trashbags like some sort of pesky waste. You had no idea that your home being labeled a sanctuary also meant labeling your side yard as a cemetery of sorts, unmarked and or barely marked graves littered beside your house. Would you get arrested for this? CAN you get arrested for this? Whatever, the law doesn’t matter anymore.
Among those who came and went, a small handful of people had also started to call your house their home as well. Not that you minded in the long run; safety in numbers and roommates to keep you sane were all compact into one oddly shaped package. A foreign man with his mouth previously sewn shut preferred to stay in your pantry where a cashier woman used to stay; it really was a shame that she ended up being a visitor. She seemed passive enough, so you simply let her leave instead of shooting her. You genuinely liked talking to the man despite not speaking the same language; he was positive despite all of the trains to his country being out of service. A man who gouged his own eyes out sits in your kitchen where the scruffy hunter used to be, grateful that he didn’t have to witness the gruff man’s death as well as whatever he’s been through.
Though, your living room was the most interesting place at the moment. A lanky alcoholic shared your couch with a severely cold man who you’ve grown relatively close with. You’ve learned that the very tall man on the left of your couch is named Yesenin after he shared some poetry with you, and the coat man is named Evgeni after getting him to open up his shell. Evgeni was obviously a loner in his past, his naked stretched ears and constantly quoted deep poetry is a direct pointer to you. Truth is, you know that Evgeni is a visitor, his battered nails and his eyes tell you everything; another truth, you don’t want to get rid of him. You’ve had many meaningful conversations with him throughout the months he’s stayed on your couch and he doesn’t seem like an immediate threat to you or any of the other humans you house. What you didn’t realize is that everyone else knew it too, they just trusted that you knew what you were doing.
The cashier girl was one thing–she was too jittery for comfort, her denial could only mean costly accidents–Evgeni was another. You’ve grown fond of this chattering mess, clothing him in your old green sweater that's grown wrinkled after being in storage for a hot minute. Though, it was painfully obvious that you didn’t know how Russian names worked or how to make a nickname for someone, calling him Geni earned you the most confused, blank look from both him and Yesenin. Of course, no one really took you for a Russian anyways, your accent simply couldn’t hide in a cyrillic language. Evgeni found it almost cute. Almost. The way you simply couldn’t say certain words because of your oral posture had him smiling to himself more times than he could count. It didn’t help that all he could smell was you when he tried to hide his grin in the collar of your sweater, everything he thought about immediately trailing back to you.
The real trouble started when he discovered that you’re vastly different from him; warm. It started when you were near him, the slightest brush of your arm against his coat leaving kisses of heat in its wake. It was subtle at first. He could ignore it like his urge to harm others, he was used to shoving things into the back of his mind from when he was a human. But, unfortunately, his human clumsiness proceeded him in death and into the afterlife. This simple quirk about him would be both his greatest asset and his greatest weakness. It was an accident the first time, tripping over himself while exiting the living room and falling into your arms. When you caught him that day, your warmth awakened something in him. Something primal.
It soothed and burned his skin at the same time, like holding a hot bowl while your fingers are numb from the cold. It felt physically painful when your skin left his, the cold enveloping him like a thick bundle of thorns. But, he stayed quiet and let himself think about this moment before acting on it. He never was good at taking action, but he was the best at letting his mind wander and brainstorm different scenarios and outcomes. If he chose to ignore your warmth and avoid it, he would be harming himself and your blossoming relationship on all levels. If he chose to accept it but not seek it, he would just be hurting himself by not using his resources wisely. If he accepted it and chose to seek it out, he would possibly be harming your relationship by being a clingy bastard. To be completely truthful, Evgeni doesn't have the lifeskills to maintain a relationship; a homoerotic friendship at that. He’s always found boys kind of cute, but he just never found ‘the one’. With all of this information in mind, he decided to actively seek out your attention and hopefully not get caught in the process.
It was simple at first, really simple. He would just ask you for help with the bandages on his fingers or to help him get something down from a high shelf even while knowing damn well he’s taller than you. Your soothing touch warmed his hands when you tenderly rewrapped his chewed-through nails and the heat crept up his back when you pressed him between the counter and your body, reaching for whatever random item he needed. It wasn’t enough. He started tripping in front of you on purpose, using his clumsy nature as an excuse even if he didn’t stumble in front of anyone else. No matter how ridiculous it seemed or sounded, especially to himself, it worked every single time. You would quickly rush over and scoop him up before he could fall, sometimes your touch would linger, sometimes it didn’t. It still wasn’t enough.
Of course, Evgeni isn’t going to communicate his needs or wants to you, he would rather die for a second time than tell you that he’s in need of your body heat. His poor attempts to get physically closer to you would definitely rub off as extremely creepy behavior if it was in any other context, but of course, you being you, you found it extremely cute. It really was a jumpscare when you awoke to him watching you sleep one night; he was really there to muster up the courage to ask if he could climb into bed with you. You wouldn’t have said no, of course, but he just needed to ask first.
As much as he tried to be discreet about his yearning–he really, truly did–his lack of romantic experience made his attempts of affection very noticeable. Embarrassingly noticeable. The way his irises rounded and lingered on you when you two were in the same room, the way he always stuck to your side more times than coincidental, the way his voice softened and his stutter got worse around you…it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d fallen for you in a matter of months. Evgeni didn’t believe in love at first sight, if he even believed in love at all, but there was always something special about you that really coaxed him open easily. Your relationship felt natural, your conversations as easy as blinking or breathing, but he always appreciated how they never ended awkward. The silence after was never short of comforting, reassuring, and that was his immediate downfall.
He found himself cuddling into your sweater more often than not, a comforting reminder that you aren’t leaving anytime soon. Evgeni didn’t remember much of his life while he was a human, it was a blurry mess of the local punk scene, yelling, and desperately trying to find connection wherever he went. He’s shared his memories with you, his favorite poets, his favorite underground bands he used to enjoy, the philosophers that he’s studied, and just about everything about himself. To his surprise, you did the same in return. He remembers how you talked about your old friends from home and the many good memories from your past, hell, he remembers the sorrow in your eyes when talking about the lost connection from your distant family. Their descriptions blurred with time as he was too busy trying to control the sick tightening in his hollow chest from how hurt you were over the lost contact. Feelings were foreign to his visitor form and he had no idea what to do with them.
While sharing everything about himself mentally and emotionally, he knew that you were going to have to see the neverending black hole that replaced most of his torso at some point. Truth was: he was scared shitless of what would happen to you if it was exposed to you. The last time he had revealed his black hole… many, many people–innocent people–died. If he ever killed you or harmed you in any way…he would personally steal your shotgun and put an end to his violence without any hesitation. Well, with some hesitation, death wasn’t a pleasant experience for him. Of course, secrets always reveal themselves in the strangest of ways.
You were standing in your bathroom, cleaning his oddly healing fingernails in your regular weekly routine. It was the usual comforting silence that came from being around him, small talk disintegrating as fast as it appeared. Your fingers skillfully wrapped his slender ones in cheap gauze that you had stored in your first aid when you noticed the bloodstains that littered the cuffs of his coat and your old sweater. You told him that he should take off his top layers so that they could be disinfected and washed, that you would give him another jacket and long-sleeve of yours, and he didn’t even think twice about it. He couldn’t say no to you anyways, the thought of being wrapped in more of your clothes made him forget everything he was trying to hide.
He felt so, so very stupid once he lifted his shirt over his head, the blistering cold from his torso filling the small bathroom. He fully prepared you to drop dead like the others did, screwing his eyes shut so that he wouldn’t have to see your blood splattered across the white walls and tiled floor. His eyes welled up with tears at the thought of your dead body but, instead, he felt your hand on his waist, bending down to take a closer look. His eyes snapped open and looked down at your fascinated face, his breathing heavier than usual. The intimate touch of your hand burned deliciously over the painful chill of his blue-tinted skin.
“H-Hey..! What t-t-the hell are you doing? G-Get a-a-away!” Evgeni yelped, his hands clutching onto your shoulders to push you away.
The action and waver in his voice took you back, backing up a few steps. You didn’t understand why he was so terrified, was he scared of you? You didn’t have much time to worry about his sudden outburst before Evgeni closed the short distance between you both, taking your hands in his and pressing them flush against his face. You weren’t sure if the shaky sigh of relief that escaped his lungs was for you or for him, but it was relief nonetheless, and that’s all you needed. His skin felt doughy but soft, it was so different from human skin but you couldn’t love it any more.
Evgeni eventually found his way into your embrace, his ice cold body trembling against your warm chest. You took notice of how thin he was, how every bone in his technical body left a divot over his ever-empty torso. Do visitors need food and water like humans do? Can they even consume things the way regular humans can? Can your bottomless black hole of a kinda-more-than-friend even keep anything down? How does that even work? You didn’t have much time to swim with your questions as a shy voice snuck its way out from your shoulder.
“I…I-I’m sorry f-f-for the outburst. I was s-scared. I was so, s-so scared.” Zenhya, as you called him, squeaked out.
“Bad things h-happen when I show…’i-it’. I thought you were d-d-dead for s-sure.”
You hum, drinking in the moment and allowing yourself to think about your next words. To be honest, there really was nothing to add. Evgeni surely doesn’t know why his body looks the way it does, you don’t think he even remembers his life as a human.
Evgeni only did what he thought was right, and that was to press his blue lips against your pink ones. Even when he was alive, Evgeni never really cared for relationships of any kind, always stuck in a ‘whats the point of anything?’ mentality. What’s the point in developing emotional connections when all they would do was leave you anyways? He knew how it went just as well as anything else. But, with you, all he knew was that he couldn’t lose you. Ever. He knew that he would sacrifice everything just to keep you safe, always.
Your first kiss with the visitor was awkward, unsure, it’s been a while since either of you even thought about kissing another human being after all. But, when he pulled back and witnessed your flushed face and the look in your eyes that was just pleading for more, he couldn’t even think of denying you. Your second kiss blurred into a third, into a fourth, into a full blown makeout session. Evgeni’s hands clutched at your back like you would pull away at any second and you carded your hand through his dark, oily hair with utmost care. Your shared kisses were filled with love, fear, desperation, frustration; each breath was an unspoken promise.
The passion filled minutes came to end as you both held each other close and peppered kisses on the other wherever needed. There didn’t need to be a proper discussion of what you two were anymore, that's what Zhenya loved about you. You both could communicate with actions instead of words and the other would completely understand, he was never good with words to begin with. When you both whispered ‘I love you’ for the first time in that bathroom, you two both understood the consequences of getting caught.
In Russia, or in any Eastern European country, being gay was your dirty little secret; something extremely private that you never spoke to anyone about in fear of being exiled from your community. Anyone who was openly gay would be shunned until they hid again, even then, people remember faces all too well in small Russian villages. You weren’t just gay, your now secret lover wasn’t even classified as a human. You both would be imprisoned or killed if ever ratted out to authorities. You both were willing to take that risk. Being together was all that mattered in today's world.
It’s been another few weeks since the wonderfully intense bathroom incident, and things were going unexpectedly smooth. Even with your fleeting glances at one another or the lingering touches, the only one that took notice was the foreign man that resided in your pantry, thankfully, he knew about being secretive all too well. You almost felt ashamed to love another man underneath the cross in your living room, but it was only a mere idea. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, you stopped believing in God a very long time ago. This is your life now, and you have learned to love it for the greater good.
At the moment, you were curled up in your bed and trying to fall asleep. With the whole solar apocalypse situation, body heat was the most inconvenient part about being a human. Most nights were spent tossing and turning in bed due to the unbearable heat, the days were no better. You’ve practically forgotten what a decent night’s sleep felt like, in fact, this was the first time in your life that you wished to see the snow again. Going to bed cold was much more bearable than going to bed hot; being huddled under a blanket and getting warm after a while was easier than sleeping naked and still being uncomfortable.
Your thoughts halted as your bedroom door creaked open and a soft presence loomed over your bed. You didn’t even need light to know who it was, the clattering teeth told you enough. You would love to see his face under the moonlight, but you don’t open your windows much anymore.
“I can feel you, Zhenya. I can hear your teeth grinding together, too. Do you need something?” you ask, looking over your shoulder to the shadowy presence at the end of your bed.
Strange, his eyes had a faint glow in the dark, his slim pupils rounding at the sound of your tired voice calling out to him. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, the way his eyes lingered on what he wanted always told you what he was thinking. He wanted to sleep with you tonight, possibly every night. It would be good for Yesenin too, he needs room to stretch out his morbidly long limbs. Plus, cuddling something cold was just what you needed for these unbearably heated nights. You offered a silent invitation, folding the blanket over so that he could crawl into bed right next to you. He took it without a moment's hesitation.
Cuddling with your permanently cold lover was absolute heaven. You offered him warmth and he offered you coolness, you could even mention that it was the same situation emotionally. Evgeni hasn’t been this close to someone in God knows how long; the concept of cuddling made him sick for the longest time. But,of course, everything was so different with you. He loved affection: kisses, hugs, hand holding, pinky holding, simply being next to you, the way your finger slipped into one of the belt loops on his pants just to hold some part of him. He fucking adored it, He fucking adored you.
After he stumbled at your door, he’s been questioning whether or not visitors could even feel emotions to a human extent. Sure, he was once a human–now a walking, killing, conscious corpse–but his body felt more like a puppet to him rather than, well, a body. His face felt like a fleshy mask to hide behind, his arms felt like weapons, his legs felt like machines in their own way. He’s asked himself if his body was really even his. Well, whatever the answer may be, he’s experiencing genuine, deep love for the first time in his two lives. He’s not going to take anything else in this odd second chance for granted.
You both ended up as a knot of limbs within a few minutes of being in the same bed. Evgeni clearly had absolutely no idea what to do with his limbs at first, so you let him get comfortable and adapted to his body. It was a perfect and symbolic fit. The both of you had each other's needs met by the other for simply existing; it was going to be the best rest you’ll both ever get. That is, until you did something deliciously stupid. Your hand had trailed underneath your sweater that he wore–technically his sweater now–and grazed the edge of the black hole that engulfed his torso. His breath stuttered and his hands grasped your shirt tighter…but he didn’t stop you, you knew he would stop you if it was a problem.
So, your curiosity drove your hand instead of your logical head. Your fingers traced the dipped edge of the hole; petting and stoking as you saw fit. Zhenya was softly mewling into the front of your shoulder, just to the left of your chest. You’ve never heard his voice so high pitched before, and it was highly addictive. When your hand started to slip into the depths of the mysterious mass, that's when your partner started squirming in your grasp and lightly gasping for air. His shifting made you aware, very aware, about the only non-cold thing left on his body and it was pressed right against your thigh; already semi-hard. His soft, needy noises had you in the same state.
“Does this turn you on? Does it feel good, hm?” you didn’t mean to sound so blunt about it, but that’s what your people are stereotyped to be, right? In Evgeni’s half-horny mind, it only made sense.
“Y-You by yourself…t-t-turns me on.” Evgeni managed to stutter, trying to get his voice low so as to not wake the whole house.
“I’ve had to… r-relieve myself in the bathroom m-more t-than once…your stupid sweater s-smells like you, y-you know?”
Now, that comment took you back and halted your movements for a moment. Your sweet, caring boyfriend has been jacking off to your scent alone? You wanted to ask how long, why, something! But, shock faded to smugness as the man latched onto your wrist, begging you to keep going.
“Wouldn’t the real thing be better?” you ask softly, your fingers dipping into the below freezing depths of Zhenya’s torso.
“God, mmm, G-God…yes. Please. I-I’ve felt so…s-so dirty thinking about you, u-us, like this. Please, you k-know I’m not one to–mmmh…b-b-beg.”
Jesus, and you thought that your first makeout session with this guy was hot. You knew that he was a pretty deep and closed off person…but this…this is a whole new side to your sweet Zhenya that you’ve never even noticed; never even thought about. Your cock painfully twitched in your boxers with how sickly sweet his shaky voice was when he begged. Who were you to deny him of his needs when he asked so nicely?
You rolled your body on top of his, claiming his cracked lips in a desperate but sweet kiss. Your hips subconsciously shifted against his, making him groan deeply into your mouth as a bolt of pleasure shot up your spine. One hand offered you support on the side of his head while the other fully lifted up his green sweater and plunged into the deep, never ending darkness that he possessed, earning you a break from the mess of kisses to relish in his inhuman eyes rolling into the back of his skull. Seeing how his jaw slacked and a string of pathetic sounding moans escaped from his lungs was completely angelic, something that you wanted engraved into your mind.
To Evgeni, the feeling of his void getting ‘fucked’ was the most pleasurable feeling he’s ever felt, truly. Your hand was a stark contrast to the bitterness within himself; he finally felt completely warm for the first time during his second chance and he didn’t want it to end. It felt like a fire reaching into him and constantly hitting invisible g-spots everywhere the flame licked. Though, this was simply not enough to get him off. Yes, he felt intense pleasure wherever your hand went, but he felt like he could feel so much more and feel so much better.
“P-Pants off. P-Please, I need you. I n-need you against me, maybe even i-inside of me. Pretty please.” Evgeni rambled, one hand fumbling with the waistband of your boxers and the other having a vice grip on the forearm inside of him.
Of course, you both would have to settle for frotting tonight seeing as you haven’t had the need to own lube or any prep materials up until now. Regardless, you’re pretty positive that you’ll both take each other however you can get the other at this point. You removed your hand from Zhenya’s black hole and began stripping yourself of your t-shirt, earning a disappointed whine from him. You decided mentally to keep your partner fully clothed for his own comfort, you’re sure that it wouldn’t be too pleasing to be chilly during sex. Well, more chilly than usual we should say.
You tossed your shirt half-hazardly into the darkness of your bedroom and almost immediately felt a pair of icy hands feeling up your hot chest, Zhenya’s fingers stopping at the scars littering your chest. Your scars were very old and well over healed, but the man underneath you found himself smiling at your imperfections. Although your ‘flaw’ was much less deadly than his, he still found it sweet that neither of you were perfect, that both of you had something to hide underneath your clothes. It really was the small similarities that made you both a perfect match for each other.
It didn’t take long for you to completely strip, your clothes in a messy pile on the carpeted floor. Evgeni’s sweater was lifted up to his chin and his tan slacks were undid and pulled down to his mid thighs. The only thing separating you both were your boxers, and it was suffocating. You leaned down to engulf Zhenya’s mouth with yours, your hand trailing down the limited skin of his stomach until your fingers grazed over his prominent tent. You chuckled as your fingers worked at the damp fabric; your dear Zhenya would’ve probably woken up the whole house by now if it wasn't for your tongue muffling his increasingly loud whimpers. You could feel as his hands desperately scrambled to hold onto you, how any lost contact would make him feel completely insane.
He was lucky that you were just as hard as he was, otherwise you could tease and play with him all night long. Your hand swiftly pulled down his underwear, his member tensing at the sudden temperature change. At this point, you couldn’t even make out what your partner was saying, he was just stumbling over all of his words and pleas while his painfully cold hand fumbled with the waistline of your briefs. You silently helped him remove the last bit of your clothing, the warm air circling around your now completely nude body. You could feel a certain pair of unusual eyes studying your bare skin; studying, drinking in what belonged to him now. These silent moments didn’t last much longer, whether that be for better or for worse.
Your body loomed over his as your firm hand slotted your cocks together, earning a pleased sound from both parties. Your hips started to softly shift over his, your lungs gasping for air as deep groans escaped them. It wasn’t long before you could remove your hand and fully grind your cock against Zhenya’s, using the once occupied hand to plunge right back into his missing stomach. The man underneath you had to sink his perfect teeth into the green wool of your sweater in order to properly muffle himself, the two inputs of pleasure being vastly overstimulating. Zhenya was violently shaking now, his eyes forcibly glued to your sweaty face, but it wasn’t from being cold anymore. He wasn’t a virgin by any means but that didn’t mean that your secret lover was experienced in any way. His sex life only included–arguably chaste– hookups from the various underground rock n’ roll concerts he had attended in his youth. Nothing felt as good as being loved while being fucked and he was so glad to come to this conclusion with you.
His hips started bucking uncontrollably into yours, his release winding in his stomach like a spring about to jump. You weren’t far behind him either, precum leaking down both of your cocks while your arm was numb from his black-hole-stomach. It was almost comical how large his member was despite being submissive in nature, your mind reeled at the thought of riding him senseless when the house was completely empty. Those thoughts only drove your hips faster and faster, you simply couldn’t stop now as you both were moaning, whimpering, muffled messes for each other and each other only. Before you both came all over each other's bodies, you ripped the fabric from his mouth and kissed him deeply, pouring all the love you could give him while he practically screamed into your throat.
You both dwelled in the kiss and the intimacy for a while, removing your arm from his hole to cradle his lukewarm face instead. You were incredibly hot and sweaty as you helped Zhenya bundle back up and lazily slipped back into your boxers after you decently cleaned your bodies off for the time being. You rolled over onto the cooler side of the bed but you didn’t get far as a pair of skinny arms engulfed you once more, his face hiding away into your pale chest.
“T-That was…amazing. T-Thank you. I l-l-love you.” he sighed, taking in the scent of sex that lingered around the small room.
You simply kissed his forehead in response and drifted off into blissful slumber not long after. You knew damn well that your walls were thin and the adults knew exactly what was going on behind them. You knew damn well that Yesenin would rip you a new ass tomorrow for having relations with a visitor. You knew damn well that Zhenya was the best thing that has happened to you in a very, very long time.
hopefully this is the right place to ask for requests BUT HAIII, honestly love ur Mac fanfics on ao3 and I was wondering if you'd be able to write another part for "Accept all cookies?" because UGHSHSH I WAS LOVING IT!! >0<
yessss yesss you can my dear anon
hi so I'm gunna go on a little splurge here and explain why i fucking died for like a month and a half whoopsies, feel free to skip if you want.
I'm not going in too deep since I'm hashtag mysterious but jsyk about 60% of this fic was written in a hospital lobby while a close family member was in open heart surgery #fun #lovethatforus
he's literally fine and back home,, the surgery went the smoothest it could possibly go
Also idk I've had the worst writers block ever and procrastinated this thing for a while fuuuck I feel like I'm starving you guys but I promise I'm just depressed and off my meds,,, I have like 3 other requests I promise I'm getting to them eventually send tweet
Notes: double ended dildo, scissoring, teasing, Mac top->bottom, Reader bottom->top, begging, slight dacryphilia, sloppy makeouts, sloppy to soft kisses, objectum themes and wording
This fic can be found on my AO3 as a second chapter to "Accept All Cookies?"
There is artworked referenced in this fic! See if you can figure out which description belongs to who. All of these users are the artists' tiktok handles bc I'm a chud lololol
some of these are full references some of them are just hinted at,, figure it out 4 urself
(If you are listed here and DON'T want your art referenced, just dm me here or comment and I will gladly edit any trace of you and your art out of the fic :0) happy reading or somethinggg)
NSFW below the cut!
It was safe to say that Mac was highly embarrassed when their magazine first published, multiple other ex-objects either congratulating them or sending jokingly provocative comments. You still remember when they found out about the initial publication, their wheelchair thrumming wildly against the floor to find you in your office.
You didn’t know about the publication either quite honestly; you just submitted your best work from the photoshoot and all of a sudden your partner was clad on the front cover of a popular magazine that thousands of people saw. When you had emailed HR about possibly recalling the recent issue and addressing your partners concerns, the Vice President of Design got back to you and completely dismissed your email; the magazine was a massive hit and offered a permanent modeling contract to Mac! It was safe to say that they indeed took the offer.
You were both Head of Design and a part-time model manager for Mac–you were stressed out of your mind. Your role in the company was no longer the “what?”, you’re the “how?” now; you were in control of so much but so little all at once. On top of all the organization and test runs, you also had to book Mac’s photoshoots and make sure they were comfortable the entire time. Mac wasn’t in the dark about the weight on your shoulders either, they were always asking how you were and what they could do to make your life easier. But, honestly, there was nothing they could do, and it broke them. Most of their life was dedicated to running smoothly, loading tabs in the blink of an eye for your convenience–their human body stunted them immensely, more than they’d like to admit.
Well, luckily for you, you have a rare day off! Well, except for the fact that you have to oversee Mac’s photoshoot today. Your significant other has told you multiple times that they could handle themselves at these sorts of things, but you were very persistent with escorting and accompanying them. You knew exactly how this industry worked, and the thought of Mac dealing with it alone scared you terribly. The horror stories of models having their boundaries broken and manipulated plagued your mind the moment they signed that contract–you would ensure that your partner would be safe at all shoots and bookings.
Mac was leaned against your shared car as you unloaded their wheelchair from the trunk, silently being grateful for all of the help you offered them without even asking. From what you both know about this session, Mac will be showcasing some basic lingerie for an upcoming issue and a technology themed prototype line for a National Techie Day limited edition press–their tattoos and idiolect definitely helped them score a spot in the unique collection.
The both of you entered the bustling office building, other models being hurried into dressing rooms and onto the set littered with props and extras.
“Will you be alright standing today?” you turn to Mac, their crutches in one arm, “I don’t want you overworking yourself for these assholes.”
Mac softly smiled at you, putting their wheelchair in park as you waited for one of your coworkers to fetch you both.
“I appreciate your concern, baby, but I can stand perfectly fine today. I would hate to cancel this special opportunity just because my motherboard isn’t operating at peak proficiency. I know my limit, trust me.” Mac reassured you, taking your cold hand into their warm one, their thumb gliding over your knuckles.
Neither of you had much time to talk before a designer guided you to a private dressing room filled with revealing clothing and private dressers. You stood off to the side as strangers stripped Mac of their current clothing and draped them in their first pieces of the day–a black, full lace babydoll lingerie set decorated with matching socks and garters. This was your profession, you were used to seeing attractive models in little to nothing, dressing people in hypothetical scraps of fabric, but it was so, so much different when your significant other is the model. Mac was always beautiful to you, but now that the whole country knows that they’re beautiful too, it made you feel both proud and protective all at once.
Once the dressers finished dolling Mac up, they were taken to one of the sets, large lights and a professional camera set up in front of it. This specific set had a faux bed in the center, set with rose petals and maroon bedding. The rest of the set was pretty bland, making the model stand out while keeping a seductive tone. You gave Mac one of their crutches for balance, helping them onto the set while the cameraman switched out his lenses and fiddled with his camera settings. Mac was verbally guided into various poses on the staged bed–they did it so effortlessly, like they’ve been doing this for years. They could definitely make any seasoned models jealous.
This ritual continued on for various other sets and outfits, most of them becoming a blur in your memory, however, some of them really stood out to you both as their partner and a designer. Your rebranded bunny suit was a massive hit of course, and your company was milking the hell out of it. Mac was put in a dark green corset bodysuit with numerous traces and vias embroidered on the top hem and along the waist, their computer themed tattoos really pulling the look together. The way they winked playfully at the camera, their fishnets hugging their legs perfectly, had you wondering when you two would be able to go home. The cameraman even had a few shots of Mac with their forearm crutches, absolutely nothing covering their ass, biting their lip at you.
As if the bunny suit wasn’t enough to rile you up, Mac walked out of their dressing room tied up in ribbon cables. It looked to be a subtle form of shibari, their hands bound to their chest in intricate knots. God, the way they stared at you when you rushed over to help them, their eyes half lidded and knowing, it made you want to call off this photoshoot early. That look became a common one throughout the day, they knew exactly what they were doing while in that sheer black shirt and green heart pasties. They knew what they were doing in that green button-up too, their tongue darting to wet their lips.
Despite their obvious (and painfully effective) teasing, seeing Mac in their almost ‘natural habitat’ was adorable and strangely nostalgic. For one of the sets, it was staged so that the models were coming out of a computer screen, something that Mac used to do with the Dateviators on. You could practically feel the joy radiating from them as they held a folder icon prop; it was rare that they could be this in tune with their element as a human. You shook your head, clearing out of your thoughts as you heard Mac rolling beside you.
“I’m usually not the one to admit this, as it’s my purpose to always be correct, but I think your logic of rescheduling this shoot for a later date was the most favorable.” Mac muttered to you, “My legs are lagging worse than this morning. And to think, I almost didn’t bring my wheelchair out today. That would’ve been a nightmare.”
You sigh, glancing over at your partner with a soft smile tugging at your cheeks, “Well, you know I would’ve helped you as much as I could. I’d carry you if that’s what you needed. You know that though.”
You and Mac had a playful back-and-forth bicker about how strong you were while walking down the dark hallways of your workplace, well, technically you share a workplace with Mac now. Your conversation has put to a halt at the door of one of the editing labs, holding the door open for Mac and following close behind. Your cameraman was already downloading the hundreds of photos onto one of the computers and transferring them into a photo editing program, getting a sneak peak at one of them as they loaded in. Since you were a Head Of Design, you got to select a cover for the magazine and a few photos for the inside; models didn’t usually get to look at the photos until publication, but Mac had you as leverage.
After about an hour of going through various photos, overexposed, underexposed, grainy, blurry, perfect, all three of you decided on two options for the cover. One of the pictures had a harsh yellow light casting over Mac, their body slouched against a table and a shocked expression on their face. What made this picture so special was their hand tangled in wires by their groin, the photographer adding ‘Handle with care!’ above their head. Mac especially liked this one; the erotic computer symbolism really stood out to them. The other option was your personal favorite, Mac’s side profile with a bright orange background and yellow text added around them reading; ‘Sleek, Exquisite, Downright Sexy’, ‘Don’t you want to interface?’, ‘A user interface that is just begging to be interfaced by as many users as possible.’.
Of course, the wording was just for marketing purposes–Mac was perfectly content having one user to satisfy. Mac wasn’t too impressed with this cover, but, to you, it was perfect. Their hair was draped oh so perfectly around their sharp face, their eyebags defining the dark green eyes you fell in love with, their nose as straight as ever with that adorable slight curve to it. God, you really could admire their features all day without getting bored. All Mac sees is their side profile, all you see is utter perfection.
After you all agreed on a collage of photos for publication, it was finally time to head on home–thank God! You honestly didn’t think you could’ve lasted much longer with the way Mac masked their teasing with ‘just doing their job’, you had a feeling your pesky computer was doing this on purpose. The three of you were making small talk as Mac’s photographer was packing up his things, unplugging the chip reader from the silver monitor–you couldn’t help but notice how Mac swallowed thickly and shivered at the sight. An outsider wouldn’t think much of their reaction, they would probably brush it off as being cold or tired, but to you, it made your mind race of what you were going to do to your partner as soon as you both stepped foot into your shared home.
The walk back out to your car was mostly silent, your mind was too foggy to pay much attention to a conversation anyways. You quietly helped Mac into the passenger seat and loaded their mobility aids into the trunk, your body running on autopilot to let your mind swim with filthy thoughts. The drive home was silent too, a familiar but tense quietness where the sexual tension was at a breaking point. Though, the silence was broken by the nerd beside you.
“So. Did you enjoy my photoshoot? I think it went very well.” Mac commented, their eyes lingering on your body just a tad too long for it to be innocent.
“I know exactly what you were doing.” Your direct statement made Mac choke on their words for a moment; were they really that obvious?
“What ever do you mean, my love? I was simply doing as directed.” They retorted, a sly smirk on their flushed face. Mac was usually a straightforward person, but seeing you riled up was definitely one of their guilty pleasures.
You stayed silent at first, just trying to hold your bearings and stay focused on the road. To be honest, you were about ready to pull over and fuck your partner sensless on the side of the road, but alas, you don’t have illigal window tints so you were out of luck.
“We both know you were trying to subtly tease me, but you were never very good at hiding things.” Your eyes leave the road a few times to glance at Mac, their teeth playing with their bottom lip in both guilt and anticipation. They knew they were fucked when they got home, quite literally.
The air only thickened as you both silently pulled into the driveway, Mac’s wheelchair abandoned in the trunk as you both scrambled to get inside as soon as possible. Mac’s crutches made a loud thunk on the floor as they were pressed flush against the door, their legs wrapped tightly around your waist and their arms thrown carelessly around your neck. Their lips were never softer as you allowed yourself to finally indulge in them, be a tad rough with them. Gasps and small moans were swallowed by the other, your tongues moving fiercely but yet, no words were being made. The both of you were reaching inside each other for something you couldn’t find in yourselves, neither of you knew what, or why, but it was evident in the way your lips stayed locked with theirs. Mac’s hold on the back of your head was greedy and demanding, not letting you pull away for air unless they allowed you to–you didn’t mind at all.
Your makeout session worked its way from the front door, to the bottom of the stairs, to the top of the stairs, to your shared bedroom door, and finally ending with Mac on top of you in your shared queen sized bed. Mac’s hands were cupping your heated face in their warm palms, their knee pressed right up against your groin. You could feel them chuckling into your mouth as your hips shifted to grind against them; this only resulted in them pressing their knee harder against you. Mac reluctantly pulled away, breathless as they took a moment to study the face they adored.
“Hm, and here I really thought that you’d be the one on top after that tense car ride.” They didn’t give you a chance to talk, “You know…being in that setting with you…it takes me back. It takes me back to being just your PC. Not in a bad way, of course.”
Their hands begin tracing each and every curve and blemish on your body, gently tugging and stripping you of your clothing. Their eyes were always so gentle yet focused; it was a tenderness only reserved for you.
“Let me preface my explanation by saying that it wasn’t because of the photoshoot theme. While, yes, it was technology themed, the sudden nostalgia was from you, my dearest byte. The way your eyes analyzed me with varying emotions made me feel like a monitor again…I liked it.”
Mac was in a full on rant now, your body already bare under them. They also began stripping themselves with your helping hands, leaving small, lingering kisses in their wake.
“You know, the best part about being a computer, your computer, was the fact that my tower case was glass. You could see every divot, wire, socket, and chip…you could see every bit of data travel across the copper traces of my motherboard. Didn’t you notice the way my fans pulsed when you stared too long? You’ve always had that ability, you know…the ability to see right through me.” Mac breathed out, awe swirling in their words.
“When I was in that lingerie, I felt like I was a part of that glass case again. I felt exposed, and more than just skin-wise. I felt like people could see my veins, arteries, organs, bones, every working part of me. It was a bit overwhelming…but…with you watching, and I’m going to be honest with you, it made me aroused. Very aroused.”
They slowly trailed their heated fingers down your torso, their thumb circling your enlarged clit. Their teeth nibbled at your neck through your stuttered breaths; they were trying to ignore their own heated pulse cursing their pelvis.
“I can see th-through you because you’re a terrible liar. Also, it’s my job to watch you as your- mmph-manager, if my gaze arouses you, this may not be a good side gig for you.” You managed to reply, smirking as your own fingers slithered down to toy with your partner as well.
Mac choked when your fingers traced along their drenched entrance, burying their face into your lightly marked neck. As payback, two of their deliciously slim fingers plunged inside of you, keeping a lazy pace as they stretched you open.
“That-That’s not all, beloved. I- mmm-in the computer lab, when he pulled that USB out of the monitor…fuck, I wanted it to be you–us–so bad. I wish I was an object again, I want you to repeatedly unplug and replug a hard drive into one of my USB ports and for your other hand to stroke the others. I want your sweet, delicious, delicate double clicking again. It’s my job to present you with reliable and true information, of course I’m a terrible liar.” Mac whined out, their hand setting a steady pace while their hips pathetically tried to ride your fingers.
“Mmm, well, if that’s what you want…” You whisper to them, removing your hand and lightly pushing them to sit up as you reached under the bed, pulling out the box.
Mac didn’t question anything, biting their lip in anticipation for what you had in store for you both tonight.
“Bought this awhile ago, never got to try it or even discuss it with you until now. So, willing to give it a shot?” You proceeded to pull out a purple double ended dildo, allowing both parties around 6 inches if even. This toy would definitely help the both of you satisfy each other with minimum effort, perfect for flareup days or tired days.
Mac shuddered at the sight, swallowing thickly at all of the different ways you both could use this on each other. They could feel their core lag and throb at your questioning smirk, your hands cupping the silicone almost tenderly. It seemed like forever to them–immediate to you–to stutter out an answer; absolutely.
Their hands were shaky but desperate as they took the new toy from you, studying each vein and groove molded into it. Mac chewed on their bottom lip as they retrieved a bottle of lube from the box as well, slicking each end to ensure a smooth start for the both of you. After placing the bottle aside, they lined the purple silicone up with your slick entrance, looking directly into your eyes for any discomfort or unease. When they found none, they carefully pushed it inside of you, taking in all of the precious and breathless noises escaping your lungs.
“Good job, my love. You take toys so, so well-” Mac began to praise you, stroking your stomach before you interrupted them.
“Shhh, just hurry up and put it inside you too. You need this more than I do.” You said quickly, your hand grabbing their wrist while the other held onto their leg to offer some support for them.
Luckily for you, Mac wasn’t in the mood for teasing and did exactly what they were told. The way their dripping cunt immediately swallowed the other end of the dildo was absolutely breathtaking; the lube practically did absolutely nothing for them. It was almost comical how Mac tried their best to rile you up today when in reality they were the one to get insanely horny, not to mention from your eyes alone. When Mac finished taking their end, their puffy clit bumped right against yours, earning sweet moans from both parties. You were about to praise them in return when they immediately started grinding against your pelvis, their movements causing the dildo to move inside both of you while also rubbing your clits together; it was the best feeling you’ve both ever felt.
Their hands immediately scrambled to press down on your stomach to feel the toy fucking you as if it were them inside of you, their hips only shifting faster as they heard your moans grow louder at the feeling. They were just as loud however, praise tumbling off of their tongue like it was the most natural thing they could do.
“Baaaby, you look so pretty taking our shared drive, taking in every volt and watt of pleasure I give you. Oh, God, I needed this. I- mmm- I needed you. Under me, over me, anywhere I could get you.” Mac shuddered out, their eyes glossing over with tears.
As good as this moment felt, you could tell Mac was having a hard time keeping up, their hips having a sloppy pace, their legs tense and wobbly. Your partner loved to take initiative and be of service to you, ignoring their own needs to meet yours, but you have to put your foot down sometimes. You took a firm grip on their shoulders and flipped them over onto the bed, adjusting your legs so that limited pressure was on theirs. They almost immediately pouted at the change of positions, but even through their stubbornness they were eternally grateful for a significant other like you.
In fact, they didn’t have time to object before your hips ground into theirs at a firm pace, leaving them a moaning mess underneath you. Though, you just dug yourself into a massive hole without even knowing it; it felt much too good to stop. Not even to catch your breath–nothing–your hips were moving on their own and your brain was running on a horny autopilot. At this point, neither of you were top or bottom, sub or dom, you both were just two people trying to get each other off. You could feel how Mac’s hips bucked against yours; overstimulated but yet can’t get enough all at once, it was its own form of desperation.
“Beloooved… my most precious circuit, please don’t stop. God, please don't stop until I’m screaming your name. Pleasepleaseplease, I love being a piece of transparent technology at your mercy–mmmph–you always know exactly what wires to pull.” Mac pathetically whined out from between their clenched jaw, a few tears leaking down their beet red cheeks.
Their begging for your attention made your core clench around the dildo that shifted inside of you with every buck of Mac’s shaky hips; the constant reminder of being uniquely connected to them only adding to your satisfaction. You could feel the way you pushed more of it into Mac when you pushed your pelvis forward and how it slipped right back into you when you drug your hips back, you were fucking your partner and yourself all at once. It didn’t help when your clit slid right on top of theirs every grind either, your nerves tangling with theirs like a bunch of loose cords.
It definitely didn’t take long for you both to reach the edge together, their hands clutching onto your shoulders for dear life. Mac didn’t even need to tell you that they were close, their high pitched moans and screwed shut eyes told you everything you needed to know. Your lips crashed into theirs as you focused your grinding zeroed in on their clit instead of moving the dildo inside of them–that was exactly the little push you both needed. Mac practically screamed into your mouth, legs tensing up and shaking violently, their fingernails digging into your scalp as they came all over the toy inside of them. You followed soon after them, your lower body convulsing as you slumped over them, your kisses shifting from sloppy to sickly sweet. Mac peppered kisses all over your face, their trembling hands cradling your cheeks like it was the most precious thing in the world; to them, it was.
They pulled back for a few beats, taking in your heavy breathing and tired eyes. Their hair stuck to their forehead from pure sweat, their eyebags a somewhat permanent feature no matter how soft their gaze was. It took them a few moments to think of what to say to you after such a passionate night, if they should say something, but they were still Mac at the end of the day.
“Expiment completed. I do have to mark this new…software…as a major success to both parties. Though, next time, baby, I call the top position and I can’t promise I’ll be as ‘forgiving’ as you were tonight. Rest is required after that program for both users, however.” Mac stated, a dorky grin on their face and one of their eyebrows cocked at the suggestive comment.
All you could do was playfully roll your eyes at them and leave a lingering kiss on their forehead. Maybe, just maybe, their modeling gig wasn’t so bad after all.
Mac x Reader
The following excerpt is sfw, but the full fic I link to Ao3 at the end is nsfw. Engage at your own risk.
Reader has pelvic floor dysfunction typical to female anatomy, but everyone is welcome to read. I wrote this for self-indulgent reasons but also to spread awareness about pelvic health and adaptive intimacy!
Mac dug into their pocket to check their messages, and whatever it said made them groan. “Oh no.”
You hit mute on the TV remote. “What’s wrong?”
Mac shifted to the other end of the couch and set their bowl on a side table. “They’re asking if I can come into the office again. On my day off.”
“Like right now?” You couldn’t believe it.
“Right now.”
“What could they possibly need you for?”
Mac tapped away in reply. “I’m wondering that myself.”
You watched as Mac peered at the screen, offering silent support as they exchanged more messages.
“It looks like one of our new employees made an error that is costing the company thousands of dollars, and they want me to come fix it.”
The reason sounded plausible enough for a company like MoneyCoin, but the fear in Mac’s tone told you there was more to it.
“Why not tell them you’ll come tomorrow instead?”
“I would, but I think something bad might happen if I don’t go in tonight.”
You paused, trying to make sense of what they were implying. “What do you mean by that?”
For the first time ever, you watched Mac hesitate to answer an earnest question.
Mac x Reader
The following excerpt is suggestive, but the full fic I link to Ao3 at the end is nsfw. Engage at your own risk.
Reader has pelvic floor dysfunction typical to female anatomy, but everyone is welcome to read. I wrote this for self-indulgent reasons but also to spread awareness about pelvic health and adaptive intimacy!
You whipped around, and Mac was nowhere to be seen. The clouds shifted from bright pastels to a value scale of grays. Then there were no clouds at all. You plummeted from the sky through a void, helpless to the pit of darkness approaching the end of your fall.
Your eyes shot open.
The abyss was gone, replaced by your dark bedroom and the familiar pressure of your small but full bladder. The remnants of arousal from the wet dream intensified the overall unpleasant ache in your pelvis.
The digital clock read 3:33 a.m. Its numbers cast a faint red glow on the dresser like tiny flickering embers.
Careful not to disturb Mac from their must needed rest, you disentangled yourself from the bedsheets and shivered as the cold air hit your naked form. You felt your way to the bathroom with your feet, and when you switched the light on, the bleary image of your face appeared in the mirror. Your eyes were watery with exhaustion and a bitter dryness clung to the inside of your mouth.
Your traditional American Thanksgiving but the woke person in the family has written like twelve 1,000+ word fanfictions about blowing their fictional computer's back out
I’m mutuals with so many Mac artists and other writers but this is a stupid sideblog and so now everyone has this stupid guy named ‘Smeeteater’ following them instead of the macho man ‘nipplewarehouse’ it’s so freaking embarrassing
I’m probably mutuals with you if you post about Mac you just gotta look for user Smeeteater in your followers sighhhhh
Omfg this took so long to write don't fucking talk to me there is mold actively growing on my brain.
Also I love acting nonchalant and mysterious on the internet when in reality I'm that one stupid picture of SpongeBob in a tuxedo. Speaking of irl I literally write fanfic in trad goth makeup all the time but literally none of you know that and it's kinda saddduhh
anyways eat up freaks
"No ShutDown Button."
Mac: AMAB/Only penis mentioned
Reader: AFAB/chest and vag mentioned
5,883 words, 5,307 of them being pure smut is insane
NSFW below the cut!
Well, the day you both were waiting for has finally came and passed you both by; you and Mac were officially married! It was a celebration of undying love and a commitment to keep each other company no matter the circumstances. There was nothing but laughter, music, dancing, and women who have long since discarded their heels at their tables–it was an amazing day for everyone who could attend! Of course, no one had a better time than you and your now spouse; the two of you were nothing but smiles and completely inseparable the entire night. Though, the wedding was just the start of a very, very long night for you newlyweds.
Everyone always talks about honeymoons and how passionate they are, and tonight, the both of you couldn’t agree more. You both had settled on a vacation–a ‘traditional’ honeymoon–a week after the wedding, wanting to spend a few days with just each other and to let the marriage title simmer for a bit; that’s what you both told yourselves anyways. You knew, Mac knew; you both just wanted to be alone in your shared home so no one could interrupt or hear you both making sweet, heated love to each other. It wasn’t going to be just one night either, no, you both knew better than that. Hell, you both knew that you’d probably be under Mac during your ‘official’ honeymoon too, but hey, it’s better to get a majority of it out of your systems beforehand.
You groaned, sitting down on your shared queen sized bed while taking off your uncomfortable shoes that definitely gave you blisters. Mac flopped on the bed next to you, the sound of their discarded crutch hitting the floor. You both were absolutely exhausted from dancing all night and just moving around a lot in general; Mac more so than you. They had used their wheelchair for the ceremony but absolutely refused to use it for the reception, and you could definitely see the regret in their face as they rubbed at their aching thighs.
“Beloved, I want to dance with you, our friends, and your family all day tomorrow.” they had told you the night before, the stubbornness being so very evident in their voice, “It’s a bit impractical to dance in a wheelchair, don’t you think? Hey, don’t look at me like that! Byte, I promise that I’ll take a break if my legs start to crash, it’s my job to be honest to my user.”
You really, really wanted to say something about how you were correct all along to them right now, but, that’s not what the two of you needed right now. The day was fun, yes, but it was also filled with silent, mutual longing. The hunger in Mac’s eyes bloomed when they first saw you at the ceremony, and it only grew as time passed. They couldn’t help but gawk at the way your wedding attire hugged your chest and your every curve to perfection. It was the exact same for you; Mac’s frilly suit with their signature rainbow accents…did something to you. You’ve always found yourself drooling at your partner when they had to wear business casual attire for work purposes, but this…this was entirely different. Maybe it was the fact that they were legally bound to you now, maybe it was the fact that everyone definitely knew just how yours they were–you wouldn’t quite put your finger on it.
Neither of you said anything, basking in the realization of marriage, but you could feel a certain pair of green eyes on you. You knew exactly what they were feeling, too. Though, you couldn’t even protest–you felt the exact same way. You could physically feel their gaze growing hungrier as you started to undress, leaving your chest completely bare and leaving the lower half of your torso still clothed. You could hear Mac’s breathing speed up as you slid off the bed and onto your knees in front of them; you could even hear their breath hitch as you stared unbuckling their belt.
They looked almost pathetic when you met their gaze, their need for you to touch them was sickly sweet. They were propped up on their elbows, looking down at your hands sliding their pants down their pale, skinny thighs; their breathing shallow and shaky in anticipation for what the night had to offer to you both. You had to stifle a chuckle when you freed them from their boxers, as it turns out, Mac was already rock hard just from watching you undress. You would usually tease them about this type of thing, finding enjoyment in seeing their face turn red with embarrassment and their voice stutter like a lag, but, you were much too eager to please your now spouse to keep them waiting any longer.
You kept eye contact as you licked a long stripe up their shaft, clearing their tip of any pre-cum that dripped out of them. Mac was already covering their mouth and lightly moaning as you wrapped your hand around the base, halfmindedly pumping them as you slowly took them into your warm and inviting mouth. You could feel their hand fly to your head out of instinct, their shaky voice muttering out varying praises as your head bobbed at a starting pace. Mac was known for having an insane level of patience, especially when it came to you, but, at this moment, they just wanted to grip your head and fuck your throat until it was completely raw.
“Ohh, fuck!- My love, please, I need you to go faster, please baby, I need it fast-ER!” Mac groaned out, their voice growing whiney and breathless as you did exactly what you were told, deep moans being ripped from their lungs as your own soft moans sent a sweet vibration down their cock.
Mac was already a bit touchy from being semi-hard for a bit, so your tight throat and soft hand pumping what you couldn’t take was on the brim of being overwhelming. Their face was construed with divine pleasure; their voice was choked up on bated breaths and stuttered moans as their peak only reached higher and higher.
“Shit, baby, I’m sooo, so close. Don’t close this program, please, ohh please.” Mac begged, their eyes screwed shut as their nails dug into your scalp.
It wasn’t long before you were tugged off of their cock suddenly, their release covering your face and chest. Mac slumped forward from the slight exhaustion of their post-release daze, but quickly sat up once they realized what they just did.
“Ah! I’m so, so sorry byte. I didn’t mean to…do that. Do you want a tissue? A rag? Something?” Mac panicked, their eyes wide with embarrassment as they frantically searched for something to clean the release off of yourself.
They didn’t have to search for long–you weren’t done with them yet. Mac yelped when you quickly took them back into your throat, resuming your past pace as they almost immediately became hard again. Though, this time, you wanted to incorporate something special just for them. You guided their cock between your breasts, pressing them together for some extra friction. You felt their eyes on you all day, and you were going to make sure that Mac was more than satisfied. Though, you didn’t expect them to lose control this quickly as they took ahold of your head and started fucking your throat at a rough pace.
You couldn't help but gag as Mac bucked their hips wildly, your nose brushing against their happy trail with each thrust of their hips. They were whimpering and whispering out constant apologies above you with their head thrown back, their hands having a tight grip on your head. The overstimulation had caused tears to prick their eyes and for their thrusts to become sloppy; their hips wanted to pull away and go deeper at the same exact time. It didn’t help that your breasts were being fondled around them either, some of their cum being smeared on the base.
Mac couldn’t even breath out a warning as they pushed your head down and came down your throat, your nose being flush with their navel. They came with a deliciously loud whimper of your name, gasps of air following soon after. You released them from your mouth with a pop from your lips, lightly lapping up and swallowing any cum you might’ve left behind. Mac gently released your head and slipped a finger underneath your chin, making you meet their softened gaze.
“Thank you for being so good for me, you definitely deserve a reward after all of that. Come up here, baby, let me take care of my significant other. Though, it would make my drive spark with joy if you could put that mouth of yours to use again–just one last time, I promise.” Mac whispered carefully, their fingers caressing your cheek tenderly.
You sighed longingly, slipping into the bed with Mac, being guided into a 69 position. Mac had already stripped the rest of your clothes away, leaving you in just your underwear. You lazily pumped Mac as they left small kisses on your inner thighs, your underwear already soaked from Mac’s moans alone. Your thighs shook as your spouse teasingly blew warm air against your needy entrance, earning a knowing chuckle from the nerd underneath you.
Though, they didn’t tease you for long, pressing their tongue against the wet fabric, feeling the hard ball of their tongue piercing against your clit. In return, you swirled your warm tongue around their reddened tip; sucking lightly. The both of you moaned into the other, the vibrations making you both go crazy. You whined as Mac continued to eat you out through your underwear, the feeling just simply not being enough as their piercing teased you. Mac could easily sense your frustration, and, luckily for you, they needed to eat you out properly just as much.
Without a second thought, Mac pulled your underwear to the side an started feasting on you like you were the first decent meal they’ve had in days. Each of your mouths worked absolute wonders on the other; each lick, grind, and suck making the two of you want to please the other just as terribly. It was almost turning to a race, fighting to make the other cum first; almost. Each prod and lick with Mac’s warm tongue urged you to take them further down your throat–the more you choked on them, the deeper Mac went and the harder they sucked on your puffed clit. It was the ultimate chain reaction of pure, divine pleasure.
You were quickly approaching your first orgasm of the night–Mac’s third–and you almost cursed yourself for letting your partner get that damned tongue ring. It sent a shiver down your spine every time the ball pressed so sweetly against your clit, and Mac knew it. As the familiar warm coil tightened in your lower stomach, your hips instinctively pulled away from Mac’s mouth; the pleasure becoming too much for your increasing sensitive groin. Mac immediately grabbed onto your hips, keeping you against their mouth, lips immediately latching onto your clit as you screamed. Moans were beng ripped from your lungs, the vibrations from your throat traveling down their twitching cock. The stimulation you gifted them was starting to become too much for them as well, though instead of pulling their hips away, they bucked deep into your mouth wildly; they secretly enjoyed hearing you gag on them, but they’d never admit that.
In the end, Mac had surprisingly won the theoretical race–the feeling of you cumming all over their face and your thighs shaking wildly in their bruising grasp was their well deserved medal. Though, you did win second place as Mac came down your throat for the second time tonight, their hips having a mind of their own. You were definitely having a sore throat tomorrow.
“Jesus, baby…” Mac whispered tenderly, licking some of your release from their lips, “Your throat is always so tight and warm, but I need your USB port; absolutely nothing feels better than that.”
Before you knew it, you were under your partner, their hands on either side of your shoulders. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence either–being under them was like a second home to you. Currently, Mac was lined up with you, rubbing the tip between your folds, letting the two of you have a small break before entering another round. Before they could push into you, you slyly reached into the nightstand, fetching that familiar bottle of lube the both of you have used several times before. You didn’t even bother using common sense anymore, just simply pouring a decent amount into your hand before deliberately smoothing it over their half-hard cock with an audible schlick.
“Baby, that’s…wow, that’s a bit much.” Mac chuckled breathlessly, their shoulders shuddering from the sudden coldness, “I appreciate the thought, but your cum can act as lubri-”
You hushed your spouse by guiding them inside of you, the mix of lube and your release making them immediately bottom out. Hisses and gasping moans left the both of you, Mac’s head dropping to your shoulder out of agonizing, overwhelming overstimulation. They didn’t stay still for long, no, they simply couldn’t, not when your USB port fit perfectly around their thumbdrive; not to mention how the copious amount of lube practically sucked them back inside of you. Mac didn’t even start out slow, their self restraint long gone by this point as they were practically plowing you just a few thrusts in. The lube slowly gushed out of you with each snap of their hips, creating a sinful slapping noise that echoed around your shared bedroom.
You somehow managed to reach your hands up to palm at Mac’s chest, playing with their sensitive, hardened nipples. Even as they were pretty much bruising your cervix, you wanted this moment to be just as pleasurable for them as it was for you. You felt their mouth hang open as a string of choked, breathless moans danced on their tongue–it almost sounded like it was painful to breath in with how much noise they were making. Each push of their hips was more meaningful now, calculated, like they were muttering a declaration of love every time they dug into your sweet spot. Mac knew how this memory would be burned into both of your minds, how they would touch themselves to your screams and you the same, so, they wanted to make sure that each volt of pleasure was only for you–every noise they had to offer was strictly yours to keep.
“Where- mmmm, fuck- where do you want me, darling, hm? Do you want me to reboot inside or OUT-side, mmmph!” Mac whined out, the sensation of your gummy walls squeezing around them mixed with the sharp pain of you pinching their hardened nipples was simply becoming too much.
It was a silly question to ask, really, Mac already knew your answer before your fucked-out brain even had a chance to process the question. They were your computer once, your current spouse now, they knew everything about you. They knew every want, need, desire, and preference you’ve ever had, so, with two hard, purposeful thrusts, they spilled their release deep inside of you. The sensation of their seed gushing against your g-spot had ripped another orgasm from you, the both of you swallowing hard before gasping for some much needed air.
Mac had attempted to pull out, to give the both of you some space to recover, but you had other ideas. You weakly wrapped your legs around theirs, leg locking them into place. Mac wanted to protest that rest was important, but, when they looked into your lust-dazed eyes, they got painfully hard again with a wince from them. It really didn’t take much to turn Mac on, just like wen they were a PC. All you have to do is give them a certain look, wear a certain clothing item, or imply what you’re going to do to them and they’re already on their knees begging for your touch; similarly to how you had to press a simple power button on their monitor or their tower.
Hot tears ran down Mac’s cheeks as the overstimulation overloaded their system big time, their hips being completely driven by pleasure and nothing else. Their thrusts weren’t precise with love this time, no, they were sloppy with addiction. There was no real rhythm in their movements; only pure desperation to fill you again, and again, and again; just the way you wanted it. Mac’s tears dripped onto your chest as they sobbed out in pure ecstasy, their hand leaving more bruises on your thigh as they scrambled to hold onto something, anything. Neither of you could form coherent thoughts anymore, your brains hyperfocused on making sure the other felt everything they had to offer.
The sloppy thrusts were somehow working but it just simply wasn’t enough. You tried to roll your hips back into them, but their bruising grip had given you limited mobility. You could also tell that they were having a hard time keeping up with the pace with their legs trembling and shaking profusely from the pressure. Without warning, you flip the two of you over, letting Mac rest against the headboard as you rode them steadily. Mac was definitely surprised but ultimately thankful for the place switch, grabbing onto your chest and sucking on your neck in return. Eventually, their mouth traveled down your chest and latched onto your nipple, their one hand continuing to fondle the other breast while the other refreshed the already forming bruises on your hips and thighs. The hard contrast of the metal ball and their rough tongue felt so odd but so right against your own sensitive buds; everything with Mac was right.
With a few slams of your hips and some rocking back and forth, the both of you climaxed again. You both were getting to be exhausted, the constant one-after-the-other orgasms starting to catch up to you both. But, of course, Mac was just as greedy as you were when it came to finishing off their partner right.
“C’mon, byte, just one more. Just one more and we can shut down for the night, yes? Turn around, I’ll help you, I promise. Yeah, ohhh just like that…” Mac cooed in your ear, their cum-covered member never once leaving you as you tiredly turned around in Mac’s lap.
This round was different from the others, it was calm, tired, slow. Mac’s hands were gentler with you now, guiding your hips instead of restraining them; their hips met yours almost tenderly. The way their hands massaged your waist and torso every time your hips paused to grind down into them was the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced–it was so, so fucking obvious that they loved you to bits and bytes. The way they marked your neck from behind was like a promise; a promise that they’ll always be yours to love and fuck into oblivion and likewise.
Both of your ends came fairly quickly, the sheer sensitivity from all of the previous orgasms aiding you both with this quick round before bed. You had absolutely milked Mac, and Mac had absolutely stuffed you full and marked you as theirs; as if the matching wedding bands didn’t mark you as theirs enough. Neither of you had bothered to pull out, Mac wrapping their arms around you like a protective shell. One of their tattooed arms was wrapped around your waist and the other gently rubbed your side, muttering sweet nothings into your ears as you drifted off into a sweet, absolutely satisfied slumber.
Nothing could have prepared you for you had awoken to; well, knowing your spouse, it was bound to happen. You had stirred awake by a pleasurable pressure in your groin and soft groans in your ear, trying to regain some consciousness as tired gasps escaped your puffy lips. You were finally awoken when Mac pressed your stained underwear against your clit, clenching around them instinctively with a broken gasp. Mac almost immediately came on the spot, apologizing profusely with their nose buried into your neck. You could feel their other hand pressing against your lower stomach, feeling themselves slide in and out of you with their groggy pace.
Their body convulsed around your awakening body as they came inside you for about the fifth time within the past few hours. Their hand pressed tightly against your stomach, the both of you shivering at the extra pressure provided by them.
“I’m- I’m so sorry my significant other. You just feel so, so good, you know; I couldn’t resist. Your scent wasn’t exactly helping, either.” Mac muttered into the crook of your neck.
You didn’t accept nor deny their apology, instead, you just grinded right back into them. It wasn’t fair that they got to cum and you didn’t, no, not at all. You could feel Mac shudder behind you, their breath hitching in their throat. There were no words exchanged as they reached down and slowly lifted your leg up for a better, deeper angle; there didn’t need to be any words. Mac was full of adrenaline now, their previous orgasm opening a horny floodgate that could possibly be regretted later. Though, they surprisingly started out slow this time, letting both of your still awaking minds get a proper scope of what was about to happen.
This slow pace didn’t last long of course, with Mac, it never did. Ever. They bit your shoulder to silence themselves, their free hand reaching down to tease your sensitive clit through your underwear. You always wondered why they didn’t just tear your undergarments off during sex, but, unbeknownst to you, this session was in desperate need of a keepsake. Mac wanted this specific pair of underwear in their collection for years to come, each sniff a reminder of how good you two fucked after confessing your undying love to each other. But, right now, in this moment, you were the only thing on their mind; specifically just how fucking good you felt, how they’d live inside you if they could.
By the time you both were at your witts end, Mac was fucking you like the two of you would never touch each other again. You winced out of painful pleasure when they brushed against your definitely bruised cervix, your mouth hung open as you gasped Mac’s name. Mac couldn’t control themselves at this point, nothing could stop them from absolutely drilling into you now. Their mind was filled with you and only you; how much they loved you, how you were legally theirs now, how perfect you felt around them, how they wanted to come inside of you about twenty times more.
“Honey, you really should-mmph-drink something. I don’t want my beloved to be dehydrated.” Mac panted slyly, pressing heated kisses to your new and old bite marks from them.
You whined, barely grabbing your half full waterbottle from the edge of the nightstand and haphazardly taking a few swigs from it. Before you could even swallow, Mac forcefully pulled your chin towards them and pressed their slightly chapped lips against yours, the water running down your chin and soaking the sheets under you. The both of you only got mere drops of water in your systems before initiating a heavy, sloppy makeout session. Mac’s tongue immediately sought out yours as they continuously slapped their hips against yours, muffled whines, groans, whimpers, moans, and sighs were swallowed down each others throats.
Mac crashed their lips against yours as you both came together once more, Mac spilling inside of you and you around them. The both of you were starting to become much too exhausted for any crazy positions, but dammit, you both still wanted more. No amount of orgasms could ever dull the need you both needed for each other, it was a constant flame that could simply never be quenched no matter how hard you tried.
The both of you did take a moment to breathe, honest, but Mac slowly shifted you on top of them, your back pressed against their chest. Their arms wrapped around your torso with reassurance, a silent promise that they’d stop if you wanted to tap out at anytime. Though, Mac knew you better than anyone else—even yourself—they knew that you wanted them just as bad as they wanted you. Still, the both of you needed just a small break between the passion, something to save your limited energy.
Mac slipped their reddened cock between your thighs, pressing against your folds just right. Your thighs squeezed instinctively around them, softly gasping their name when their tip slid against your puffy, overly sensitive clit; Mac deeply groaning in your ear in return. This round was softer, loving, gentler; a reminder of love and adoration through heated passion, a reminder that every bruise equaled a tender kiss from them–inside and out. Each grind of their hips was calculated just for you, what they knew you liked, and it drove you crazy. They weren’t just fucking themselves between your thighs, no, they were still fucking you in their own way
Mac’s hands traced all over your familiar body, almost as if they were trying to carve it into their memory. Though, they didn’t need to, Mac could easily sculpt your body without a reference down to the exact colors; they simply liked being in contact with you. From the way they held onto your belt loop in public to the way they manhandled you in bed–Mac loved physical intimacy with you. Their hands reached your chest, their fingers teasing and pinching your bruised nipples. The air was filled by your breathless moans and high-pitched whines, your own hands grasping at their skinny wrists. Your body tried to desperate writhe away from the pleasure, but Mac’s grip was firm, sure that you weren’t escaping them just yet. Your whole body ached and twitched in agonizing overstimulation, your nipples and clit begging for more and to stop all at once. Mac pressed long, heated kisses against your neck, groaning into them. They could get off from your sweet noises alone, their name sounding upmost sweet on your tongue. If it was their choice, your voice would be the only one that would utter their name. Their name would be kept safe in between your vocal chords until you let it escape through your lungs again–if only that could be a reality.
Their thoughts completely blanked out your screams, their hips bucking wildly against your post-orgasm sex. They only pulled themselves out of their fantasies when their body lurched forwards, the powerful overstimulation making their body want to hold in half. Their eyes trailed down your body in the wake of the rising sun, their release coating your thighs glowing yellow under the sunlight. It was exactly how they wanted you, their partner for life, their spouse–covered in their possessive mark.
“You should really clean up your mess.” you muttered hoarsely, your throat increasingly sore from last night’s festivities.
Mac met your gaze, half lidded, absolutely still hungry for as much as you’ll give them. They really thought you would’ve used the safeword by now, that you would’ve tapped their back twice, but you always were so intune with their fantasies and sexual wants; they adored you for it. They knew that you were different when you two first met all of those years ago, they could say that you were always the one for them. The way you kept right up with them physically, mentally, sexually…it made their hard drive absolutely overheat.
They immediately got to work, cleaning off your trembling thighs and stomach with their skilled tongue. The way their release mixed with the sweet tang of your skin made them reel with want–Mac wanted more, so, so much more. Their mouth peppered kisses down your body until they reached your cum filled cunt, shuddering at the sight. Their wedding band was rough against your hip as they dipped their tongue inside of you, their own taste overpowering yours. As Mac worked more and more of their release ou of you, they slowly came to regret letting themselves cum inside so much. They wanted to taste you, they wanted to taste your comforting sweetness.
Mac was starting to become frustrated, they never realized just how salty they were until now. They were known for being a pain during oral, only stopping when you begged them to, and they planned on keeping that title–though, it was a bit difficult when they just wanted you and you alone. Mac inserted two slim fingers into you, their tongue swirling around your swollen bud, earning a delighted shiver from you as most of their hard work spilled out of you. The way your hips bucked into their face made them groan into your dripping cunt; your pleasure was Mac’s pleasure after all. Their whole thing is being of service to you, of course; they could definitely cum untouched by just pleasuring you and nothing else.
“C’mon, love, cum for me. Cum all over my interface. Do it, do it please. I need you to cum again, and again, and again. Just how we like it, just how you like it.” Mac desperately begged against your folds, making eye-contact with you, eyebrows furrowed in mutual pleasure.
You were gripping the sheets, mouth unable to close as endless strings of moans escaped your throat. Mac’s eyes were filled with so many emotions: desperation, love, lust, adoration, passion; you physically couldn’t look away from them. Even as they moaned into you while you covered their face in your slick, their eyes didn’t dare look away from you. They way you threw your head back, body weakly jolting from pure exhaustion, was the most stunning sight to them; ever. Though, the feeling of your fingers gripping their hair and hearing your weak whines when they didn’t stop was stunning as well. As Mac finished lapping up any remaining cum inside of you, they gently pushed you down onto the mattress, littering small kisses up your torso, neck, shoulders, face, and finally ending their kiss massacre on your lips.
The kiss was everything it should be, endearing, loving, careful–it was as if you would break under anymore rough touches. Mac laid beside you, finally letting the two of you catch your breath after a long night and morning of earth-shattering pleasure. Mac gently rubbed your side, muttering computer-themed praises in your ear, softy kissing any hickeys and bite marks they left on your collarbones.
“Hmmm, my outlet, I apologize for the seemingly endless reboots. You just feel…so, so very good. It’s like…It’s like your USB port was created exclusively for my thumbdrive. I love you.” Mac rambled, their fingers studying your sweaty face, “Though, I think some proper body maintenance is required at this point in time. What do you say, my love?”
Mac groggily got out of bed and fetched their wheelchair, guiding you to sit on their lap as they wheeled you both to your shared bathroom. Showering with Mac was a much more common activity than you might think, seeing as Mac needed assistance with bathing sometimes. That’s what they told you anyways, in reality, they just like seeing you naked and getting to touch your skin. You knew damn well that Mac was independent enough to wash themselves, but, you let them believe that they’ve fooled you for once. You were behind Mac as they sat on their shower chair, letting your fingers massage their scalp and feeling the hot water sooth your aching muscles. Your eyes trailed down their back, seeing various red lines trailing down their back. You could feel your face burn with embarrassment; you don’t specifically remember clawing at their back, but, at the same time, all you could clearly remember was how Mac absolutely lost it.
Unexpectedly, as you were beginning to grab some conditioner, you felt yourself become sandwiched between the white shower wall and the warm, wet body of Mac. You honestly didn’t know how they were still active after all of this, but, one more wouldn’t hurt.
“I know I said that we were done, but, sweetheart, you make me go against my own binary code. I know you don’t mean to tease be, but-” Mac started to beg, but before they could finish their request, you hushed them and slid them right back into you.
Mac cursed under their breath, their cocky persona faltering as your body sucked them right back inside. They’ve fucked you how many times now, and yet, you still feel just as good as the first time they ever entered you. Mac could genuinely fuck you for weeks on end and still feel needy for your touch afterwards; they were genuinely addicted to you. Mac balanced themselves under the wet floor and started pounding your cunt for the actual final time today. Your throat was burning with pain, the mixture of them fucking your throat yesterday and screaming their name various times put a major strain on your voice.
“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, baby. Save your voice if–mmph–if you can. I already know you feel good, I always know.” Mac cooed into your neck, one of their hands pinning yours against the wall.
Your other hand scrambled to find something, anything to clutch onto while Mac was actively breaking your back behind you, the slapping of skin and water echoing throughout the bathroom. Hell, if anyone else was home, the entire house could hear it, too. At this point in time, neither of you cared about who could possibly be listening, hell, Mac even wished your shitty neighbors could hear you both. Mac felt like an animal in heat, unable to control their hips, their moans, their hand when it came down on your ass with a rushed apology–the yelp you produced making them determined to make this a very, very grand finale.
Mac reached down towards your lower abdomen and yanked your torso flush against theirs, pressing hard kisses yo the shell of your ear as you both came undone simultaneously; quickly. Mac’s hips subconsciously snapped forward a few times after their release, helping the both of you ride out the most tiring orgasm the two of you had ever experienced. Mac had pulled out of you with a hiss–a light moan from you–and sat you in their lap in their shower chair. The two of you were panting heavily, the hot air filling your lungs faster than you could breathe it out as the water slowly turned lukewarm.
You both had finished your shower, cuddled up in your messy, sweaty bed with each other. The room smelled of pure, raw sex; skin, sweat, lubricant and your minds were filled of erotic recent memories of the other. You were tucked under Mac’s chin as the afternoon sun lit up the room brightly, really illuminating the bruises, scratches, and personal marks you both left on each other. Mac rubbed you back, taking in the scent of your body wash before whispering in your ear,
the only reason I’m employed is to get Mac’s motherboard tat as a halfsleeve. I’m not joking. That’s all. I’m still on break BUT! I’m getting started on a longer fic on Monday; stay tuned. I miss you Mac nation.
Hi hi!!! I was wondering if u could write about Mac with a pillow princess reader who has really low stamina?? (´•ω•̥`) in every Mac fic I've read reader is always so active,, I get tired super easily. If this ask makes you uncomfortable, no pressure!!! You don't have to write anything you don't want to
Yes, yes!! HAIIII!! I've never actually written for a pillow princess reader before but as a fellow lesbian I hope I did this thang right :'0)
I might take a small teeny break though I got the worst case of burnout ever that's why this took so long 2 write I WILL BE BACK MAC NATION
"Computers Serve One Purpose"
Mac: Intersex but only penis mentioned
Reader: AFAB
Notes: Slighttt strength kink mention, possessive words included with praise
NSFW below the cut!
Throughout your relationship, Mac has taken many mental notes about you; just like a good significant other should. They took note of what foods you liked and how you preferred them to be prepared, they took note of what you ordered of cafes, they took note of what textures you hated; everything you could think of. It was their duty to store and protect your information as a computer, and it was still mostly true as your partner. You chose to date your computer, expect to have zero secrets with them.
Though, there was a recurring flag in your system that they have noted the past few times the two of you were intimate. Mac was almost always on top, they didn’t mind at all, of course, but recently their legs have been extremely weak within the past few months–so, they had you ride them while guiding you. They noted just how tired you would get after a few minutes, your legs trembling terribly as you slouched forward. It was almost worrying how inactive you were, but Mac knew that you couldn’t help it. You were always so accommodating with them, and they wanted to return that just as bad.
Mac had calculated this moment perfectly, making sure their legs have been pain free for a couple of days before making any moves. They wanted to make sure that nothing could ruin this moment for the both of you; they wanted you to be completely under their control tonight. It started out as simple touches that could be brushed off as something mundane, something that could be excused. But, of course, Mac always had a few tricks up their sleeve. They had been more and more forward with their teasing, letting their hands and mouth linger on your skin, always so close but yet so far in the places you needed them most.
Mac’s voice lingered in your ear all afternoon, whispering the most filthy things to you throughout the day. It varied from how sexy you looked that day to what they were going to do to you tonight, and it was frustrating to say the least. By the evening, your underwear was completely soaked, your mind foggy with what was going to happen that night. Your legs were already shaking as Mac drug you to the bedroom, pinning you against the wall in an extremely heated kiss. Their tongue was tangled with yours as their hand cupped your jaw, keeping you exactly where they want you.
“You have absolutely no idea what tonight has coded for you. Well…what I coded for you, anyways. I know how tired you get during sensual interfacing, my byte, and I want to make sure that all of your systems run smoothly with little to no operation.” Mac whispered against your jaw, their hands already stripping you of your shirt.
You couldn’t even muster up a response as Mac pushed you onto the mattress and pinned you down, dark purple bruises already littering your upper body. It wasn’t long before Mac had the both of you completely bare before the other, their eyes drinking in your soft flesh.
“Your attractiveness updates every time I see you, if that’s even possible. I keep thinking to myself that you simply can’t get anymore gorgeous, but yet, I’m always proven wrong somehow. Always.” Mac whispers against your neck, their hardened cock dragging itself between your folds. “Let me take care of your motherboard tonight, baby.”
Mac clenched their teeth as they sunk into you, their member being completely engulfed by your warm walls. They never got used to this feeling: the feeling of overwhelming pleasure every time they entered you. Mac almost forgot to start out gentle, their mind just wanting to drill right into you immediately, but, they absolutely knew that your poor body couldn’t handle that right now. Hell, you could barely handle it in general, but at least your partner had the decency to build up to the downright overstimulating pace gradually.
Almost as soon as Mac started bottoming out, you could physically feel the energy being drained from you almost instantly. Your body was practically paralyzed from the stamina drainage, your hips weakly trying to meet theirs. Without warning, Mac lifted your hips in an iron grip, making you see stars with the new angle. Your fingers curled into the sheets as best as they could, your tuckered out body being forced to take every last drop of stimuli they had to offer.
“If it were up to me, I’d fuck you like this everytime. You wouldn’t have to do anything, just letting me give you everything your system needs and more…Jesus, you always take me so good.” Mac moaned out, leaving bite marks all over your shoulders while your hips risked bruising under their rough touch.
The both of you were reaching your own respective climaxes; and quickly. You could feel how Mac’s cock was twitching rapidly deep inside of you and Mac could feel how your gummy walls fluttered around them. It was utterly sinful how the noises the both of you made echoed around the room; how they muffled and amplified the other just the same. Mac’s groans mixed with your soft moans and baited breaths perfectly, their hands shaking against your trembling thighs. Mac’s strength was something they usually hid away for unknown reasons, but It was slowly becoming a turn on for you; the way they were able to hold your hips up for this long was groundbreaking.
The moment you were able to stutter out that you were close to your end, all Mac could do was chuckle breathlessly and mutter how cute you were between held back sobs of pleasure. They were determined, though, they were always determined to make you finish first. Being of service to you was the greatest pleasure for them, after all.
“You’re about to crash, huh, sweetheart? C’mon, cum for me, byte. Let me see it, let me feel it. Need to feel how much your USB port loves my thumbdrive. You’re doing so, so fucking good for me. You’re mine, mine to please, mine to fuck till exhaustion.” Mac laughed softly as they finally felt your body spasm around them, under them, in their tight grip.
Your orgasm was just enough for them to spill inside of you, the filling feeling making your exhaustion almost painful. Almost. Mac collapsed on top of you, the both you a tangle of tired, sore, twitching limbs coated in a thin layer of sweat. Mac didn’t even bother pulling out, pulling you into their chest with peppered kisses and countless praises in your ear. Being accommodating really is the best for both parties.
It had started out as just a small joke, a tease in a way. Long story short, Mac was nothing short of a major panty thief–they couldn’t help it! The way your scent always lingered on your clothes and underwear always had them reeling, it was one of their favorite things about you, after all. It was evident that they had some sort of erotic relationship with your natural aroma even at the beginning of your relationship; the way they always had their nose buried in the crook of your nose when you were sweaty gave them away more than they were willing to amit. You could even catch them using your shower products and putting small drops of your perfume on their wrists, anything that smelled like you was a fixation for them.
About a week ago, you had made a very appealing remark to Mac, saying something along the lines of how they’d fuck your underwear if they could. They had laughed and brushed it off, but it never quite left their mind after they had really thought about it in depth. They tried to research how that could be possible, but alas, it seems that no one else on the internet wanted to make sweet, sweet love to their spouses underwear. Well, there definitely were, but Mac refuses to go on the underbelly of Reddit and just 4Chan in general. They were scared of floortile guy. That’s okay, their imagination was strong enough for their own good.
They had conducted numerous ‘experiments’ with your joke alone, trying to figure out just how they could have the perfect underwear-fucking experience. They were smart and determined, and they were not giving up anytime soon. They had tried to use the fabric as a sort of fleshlight between their hand and cock, but the fabric was too rough for their liking and they didn’t want to mess up the perfectly accumulated smell of them. They had tried fucking a pillow with your underwear on it, but just wasn’t what they needed. Their go-to jack off method was to just smell your clothes or undergarments while fisting themselves, but that just wasn’t enough anymore. They needed to prove to you that they were completely serious about their role as your perverted clothing thief.
Tonight, they had one last experiment for their theory–if it didn’t work, they would have to suck up their pride and admit they weren’t as genius as they thought they were. They were on top of you, kissing you like it was their last day on planet earth. Your tongue was tangled with theirs, any noise or breath coming from each of you was muffled by the other. Your arms were wrapped around their neck as theirs were on either side of your shoulders, your hand carding through their short black hair. Their glasses were discarded long ago, the same with their shirt, leaving them only in their boxers and sweatpants as their hands started shedding off your articles of clothing.
Mac’s kisses traveled down your mouth and onto your neck, leaving purple marks in their wake. Their hands ghosted over your body with gentle precision, stripping your body bare with upmost care; just how you took care of them. Mac has never gotten used to seeing you nude, each time feeling like the very first time. Not in a bad way of course, no, never, but in the way of getting to experience something devine, something that only they got to witness.
Their mouth quickly got to work, latching onto your collarbones and working their way down, trying to savor you while restraining themselves from wearing off their pants. Each breath or gasp you let out only fueled their desire to just try out their experiment already, but, they had to remind themselves that your pleasure always came first. You could tell what they were thinking, the way their eyebrows furrowed in concentration really said it all.
“Maccc…” you whined, tugging at the waistband of their sweats, “C’mon, enough teasing. I’ve been waiting for this all day, don’t you know?”
Mac could only gaze up at you with half-lidded eyes; they didn’t even bother to take their guyliner off. God, they looked so hot with black smudged around their eyes.
“Now, now, beloved. I want to take my time with you. Quit being a brat and let me please you.” Mac chuckled, their month going dry as they peeled your bottoms off. “Usually I’m the needy one, baby.”
You could only huff at their statement as they finally tugged down their own pants, practically drooling at the noticeable bulge under their green underwear. They could feel your predatory gaze on them as they slipped off their last article of clothing, lightly hissing as the cold air surrounded their hard cock. You gently rested one of your hands on their chest, their top surgery scars decorating their skin.
“Before we start…I have a ‘challenge’ for you. You’re always so focused on pleasing me that you forget to even please yourself, let me help you.” you suggested, reaching into your nightstand and pulling out a bullet viberator, the same one thats been used on both you and Mac numerous times.
Mac’s eyes widened, their breath hitching while their mind ran absolutely wild. They didn’t have time to react before you reached down and inserted it into them, a shaky groan being pulled from them as their eyes screwed shut. You held the tiny remote in your other hand, a heated smirk plastered on your flushed face. Mac get your gaze, a smirk of their own forming.
“Well, in that case, I have something to preface as well. I’ve been experimenting, you know. You’ve mentioned to me about a week ago that I would, quote on quote, ‘fuck your underwear if I had the chance’, and, I have to say, you’re extremely correct.” Mac explained, beginning to pull your dampened panties to the side. “I’ve conducted roughly four experiments, but I don’t think this task was made to be a one user experience. If this causes any discomfort, I will terminate this task immediately.”
Mac was hyperfocused as they wrapped your underwear around their cock, creating a sort of overhand knot. They’ve seen you attach a charm to your phone this way, and it worked perfectly in this situation, too. It created a unique, pleasurable input for them, the tension being just what they needed. As they slowly slid into you, your underwear bunched up at the hilt, creating a very, very sexy sight for them. Though, they almost doubled over when you set the vibrator to the max setting, their hands having an iron grip on your hips.
“Baby-! Baby, c’mon, turn it down. You know I- ohhh- I always finish second.” Mac complained, not having the stability to reach for the remote in your palm.
“If you want me to cum first, then you better get to work.” you replied simply; coldly. You couldn’t even keep the shit-eating grin on your face for long as Mac immediately started pounding into you, giving you a taste of your own sick medicine.
Your moans were torn from your throat as they bottomed out with every single thrust, earning a breathless chuckle from them. Though, they couldn’t keep the smug act up for long, the way your panties felt around them was godly, the way the vibrator never let up was overwhelming. It wasn’t long before tears pricked their eyes, the multiple variables of stimulation becoming too much for them to handle.
“Awee, Mac. Does it feel too- God!- good? Hmmm? Is my computer about to reboot?” you asked with a pleased smile, your hand guiding their gaze to your.
“Fuuuck, yes. God, baby, mmphh, it’s too much. It’s too much. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, you feel so. Fucking. Good!” Mac sobbed, their eyeliner mixing with their tears, creating black stains down their pale cheeks.
You smugly leaned up and licked them away, the eyeliner creating a bitter taste in your mouth. Mac gasped as their cock throbbed desperately inside of you, their Adam’s apple bobbing as they gulped down their spit. You almost always learned something new about your spouse every time the two of you were in bed; this time, you learned that they liked it when you lapped up their tears, go figure. You eagerly kissed and licked their face clean of their black tears, their shaky voice begging you not to stop.
The both of you were reaching your ends; Mac even more so. You gripped their jaw to meet their eye, their face looking completely ruined, loud moans coming from each of you.
“Please, cum first for a change, sweetheart. You always please me so fucking good- shit- so c’mon. Cum deep inside of me, ruin my panties, I don’t care. I wanna see you come undone.” you plead with them, your bratty undertones almost completely melted away.
Mac couldn’t do anything but nod, drool falling from their lips and onto your chest. Their hips shook as their thrusts grew extremely sloppy, signaling their very close end. They pulled out and shot thick, white ropes all over your torso, claiming your body as their own. They lazily rubbed your clit with their thumb, cooing at your scrunched up face as the tension in your groin snapped, a warm euphoria spreading like water through your veins. Mac smiled lovingly as their name was released from your lungs, just basking in the fact that their name would be the only one that you’d ever moan.
You lazily turned off the vibrator and gently removed it from your partner as they worked at removing themselves from your panties, half-hazardly throwing both of them out of the way as Mac collapsed beside you, immediately spooning you and holding you against their chest. The both of you didn’t have to say anything as you drifted off to sleep, heavy breathing being the only noises heard in the room as Mac rubbed your back. They always preferred to show that they loved you through actions, anyways.
I had to wait to post this since my freaking muse wanted first kudos on ao3 fuck my stupid baka life
Mac: Intersex, only penis mention
Reader: Completely G/N
Notes: mutual masturbation, caught in the act, Mac solo play to start off
NSFW under the cut!
Mac had learned pretty quickly that being human was a very, very big adjustment. They simply couldn’t access the whole internet in the blink of an eye anymore, they felt slower; like they had downgraded the second they gained flesh. Honestly, they felt like a failure when they couldn’t do the tasks they used to, but of course, it was only natural that you swooped in and clocked their newfound insecurities. Mac was internally thankful to have such a sweet and emotionally intelligent partner like you; being with you really does make everything okay.
There was no doubt about it: Mac loved you very dearly, It was obvious in the way that they stocked up on your favorite foods and drinks, how they always wanted to be close to you, how they always glanced at you for just a little too long. They were positive that you were the one for them, a soulmate of sorts, and Mac was never wrong about anything. You were perfect in their eyes; your eyes, your skin, your personality, your laugh, the way you walked, hell, even the way you chewed gum. Though, your body has been a more observed subject for Mac. The two of you haven’t had a proper intimate interface session yet, Mac wanted to make it special and save it for the right moment.
They didn’t mean to be so lustful, out of control, but God, you were growing more irresistible by the day. Each day that went by without touching you was utter torture, thier hands itched for something that they promised themselves not to have–not yet anyways. Their thoughts continuously drifted to you while at work, how your voice would sound while moaning their name. They’ve had several fantasies about you; multiple positions, multiple scenarios, multiple things that you’d gasp and beg for. They wondered how shy you would be in bed, questioning if their arms were strong enough to pin your wrists above you. Each time the two of you hugged or cuddled, they would bask in your scent, their cock getting semi-hard with each inhale. Mac needed you, and they needed you terribly so.
Mac was currently sitting on your side of the bed, pants shoved down to their mid-thighs; their phone already had their favorite picture of you pulled up. It was a picture of you on a breakwalk, the setting sun making you look like a dream. They gazed at it, lips parted, admiring you before their hard-on twitched in their boxers, reminding them of just exactly how you affected them. They held a pair of your used underwear in their other hand–they had stolen it from your laundry basket when you weren’t paying attention. Mac felt so guilty and downright filthy for sneaking them, but your scent was so intoxicating to them. They found themselves burying their nose into your dirty clothes, your natural musk making them groan.
Mac felt ashamed as they shakily pressed the used cloth to their nose, taking a deep inhale. They smelled naturally sweet, just like you, and it made them throb. Mac lightly moaned into the fabric, their hand freeing themselves from their fabric prison. They almost immediately started stroking themselves, half of their face still covered with your underwear. Their voice was muffled by the stretchy fabric, thighs already shaking as their hand jacked themselves off. Oh, how they wished you were there to take good care of them. They wanted you under them, on top of them, commanding them, begging for their touch just as much as they’d beg for yours.
Their mind was running wild at their filthy thoughts of you, how they’d please you so well. They thought about your hands and how hot they’d look on their body or covered in their cum, they thought about how sexy your back looks while arched, they thought about how much prettier your eyes would be rolled back. Mac’s moans turned into silent pleas for you, begging for your imaginary persona to fuck the living shit out of them–they loved the idea of being used like a toy.
“Sweetheart…mmmhm, my everything, please, interface with me. I need you to- ohhh, overload my system. Make me crash over, and over again. Please, please, please.” they groaned while inhaling your aroma, the pace of their hand growing sloppy as their climax climbed higher and higher.
Mac was unashamedly whining into your underwear now, their hand desperate and uneven. They were just about to finish when you opened the door, laundry tucked under your arm. Mac squeaked, throwing your underwear behind them and half haphazardly threw a blanket over their lap, their hardened cock sticking out like a sore thumb from under it. Mac felt like a deer in a semi’s headlights, their heart pounding from adrenaline and embarrassment. You stood there, shocked, your laundry falling from your arms; you didn’t know how to feel, but your groin sure did. You took a few hesitant steps forward, calling out their name softly.
“Look, beloved.” Mac started shy, “What I did was so, so wrong. I should’ve asked first, I’m so, so sorry-”
They didn’t even have time to finish their sentence before you shut them up with a meaningful kiss. Mac lightly gasped with surprise, but they quickly accepted. Their hand found it’s way to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer; but in this moment, you just couldn’t be close enough for their liking. Their previous embarrassment was completely gone, their mind once again fogged with their intimate thoughts of you–they couldn’t believe that it was going to really happen this time.
You pulled away from the needy kiss before they could escalate it, reaching behind them and grabbing your underwear back.
“Really?” you questioned, “This is where I find my missing underwear? Though, i gotta admit…you jacking off to my underwear was hot, Mac. You could’ve just asked for the real thing, you know?’
Mac was completely red from your words, stuttering.
“I-I know that! I just didn’t think that you were ready for our very first intimate interfacing, I would rather unplug myself than make you uncomfortable.” Mac bit their pierced lip at you, as they grabbed ahold of your shirt collar. They’ve been waiting for this moment for a while now, and they were going to engrave every bit of it into their harddrive, forever.
You jokingly scoffed at them, guiding their hands back to their lap as you sat in front of them, sliding down your bottoms. Mac was the one shocked now, their eyes greedily taking in your half naked form for the very first time. They reached out to touch you, but you quickly stopped their hand, a smug gleam in your half-lidded eyes.
“Ah, ah. I want you to finish what you started. Show me exactly what you were doing before I walked in. If you can get off without my touch, I can do the same–you’re not allowed to touch me after not communicating your needs with me.” you explained to them, your hand teasing yourself and their hand started lazily stroking themselves again.
Mac was more than a little frustrated that they wouldn’t get to touch you tonight after starving themselves of it, but the minute they heard your voice start to shake and gasp, everything went blank. Both of your hands were moving at the same pace, the each of you desperate to cum together. Mac’s eyes were blown out and raking over your trembling body, the new sight giving them a more accurate model for their imagination later on. The both of you were moaning messes together, choking on each others names as Mac pleaded and begged to touch even an inch of you.
“Pleasepleaseplease baby, I’ve been aching for this. My processors-mmph!- need to feel your flesh. I need to please you, need to make you restart.” Mac whimpered, their hand getting sloppier by the minute. You were no different, your own hand feeling just as pleasurable.
“No, Mac. You didn’t communicate so you don’t get a reward. Maybe, mmm, maybe next time you’ll think about the consequences of your own actions.” You groaned out sternly through gritted teeth.
Mac looked like a kicked puppy, their hips starting to buck into their fist. They were so, completely, utter hot like this. They kept their eyes on your own movements, trying to pretend that their hand replaced yours, that they were the primary source of your groans and gaps of pleasure. Once you give them the green light to touch you, it’ll be over for you–Mac has decided that they’re going to fuck you until you’re screaming with tears staining your face, oh yes they will. The mere thought of it had them squeezing their eyes shut, breathy noises escaping them as their end came near; your own orgasm approaching just as quickly as theirs,
“C’mon baby, cum with me. God, yes, I wanna see it, I wanna see you make a huge mess of your hand.” Mac hurriedly begged, their own whines getting higher and higher.
Mac came first, your climax a close second, loud moans and declarations of love bouncing off of the bedroom walls. The both of you were slumped forward, Mac’s thighs quaking from the overshocks. Their hand and stomach were covered in their own fluids, it was like the most beautiful painting you’ve ever seen.
“I’ll go get a rag for us…if you help me with the laundry, I’ll let you touch me for the second round.” you promised, your smirk evident. Mac nodded hurriedly, beating you to the rag cabinet.
