#Cheap Glass Pipes

[nepalsmokingpipe]

Glass hammer bubblers: cheap and reliable for smoking

Smokers of different categories smoke different herbs using different smoking pipes. Besides bong, the glass hammer bubblers make the best market in the current times. They offer best smoking experience other than being most handy when they are to be carried out for smoking. Why they are so much in demand is because of its easy manageability and portability. Though somewhat like bong, the glass bubblers are the types that use advanced smoke filtration system.

[stonedgenie]

Looking for a high-quality glass pipe that won't break the bank? You're in luck! At Stoned Genie, we offer a wide variety of Cheap Glass Pipes that are affordable and high-quality options for every budget. Whether you're looking for a small and discreet pipe or a larger piece to impress your friends, we've got you covered.

[smokedesiresblog]

Enjoy Premium Smoking Without Overspending

When it comes to obtaining Cheap Water Pipes, it might be difficult for smokers who place equal importance on both price and quality. There are a lot of low-cost choices available on the market, but often sacrifice usefulness, aesthetics, or durability. On the other hand, glass pipes created in the United States of America offer the ideal combination of cost, quality, and durability.

https://dribbble.com/shots/25563957-Enjoy-Premium-Smoking-Without-Overspending?

[ashncloud1]

Distribution in Los Angeles Glass

Ashncloud specializes in distribution in Los Angeles glass, providing high-quality glassware for smoke shops and retailers. We offer a wide selection of glass products, including premium pipes, bongs, and accessories, with reliable wholesale services. Benefit from competitive pricing, fast delivery, and dependable inventory solutions tailored to the Los Angeles market.

[creativesmoke1]

Buy Good And Premium Quality Silicone Bongs Australia

Whether you are looking for a silicone bong filtration or a bong, choose Creative Smoke. We are renowned for manufacturing and wholesaling many types of high-quality smoking products to smokers in Australia. The most commonly used smoking products include silicone bongs, glass pipes and more. All our products are made from high-grade materials to deliver quality services to the users. We aim to provide a top-class smoking experience to our customers who spend significant payments of money on our products. For more details about Silicone Bongs Australia, contact us.

[reiderwriter]

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?” 

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 

Or a pedestrian. 

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 

“We're here.” 

“Great. Let me walk you in.” 

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 

“Okay.” 

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 

“About what, Y/N?” 

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.” 

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 

“You're being an ass.” 

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 

“No clothes, Y/N.” 

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.” 

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.” 

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 

“I also said no clothes.” 

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 

“Fuck, Spencer.” 

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?” 

“In the bath.” 

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 

[omedapixel]

MORE DEBUG OBJECTS

By poular demand, here are the rest of the prop and miscellaneous objects enabled for decorating! I don't have any pics right now, but the full list of objects is below the cut, and each package is merged by expansion pack.

As with my other debug objects, these can all be found under DEBUG > MISC. The catalog names are often something weird, because I haven't edited or added any strings.

These objects are technically not CC, it just allows you to access and decorate with objects that are already in game. Therefore you can uninstall these overrides, share worlds and lots using them, and they'll still remain wherever you've placed them.

Also, if you have a default replacement for any of these props, for example a plate default, then the object will also be updated to reflect that.

I highly reccomment using this in conjunction with my S3DT mod, since some of the objects are half sunk into the ground by default.

DOWNLOAD HERE

Object List Below

BASE GAME:

Guitar Case

Amplifier

Bottle Spigot (unused asset)

Child Ladle

Child Mixing Bowl

Cutting Board (slots do no work, unfortunately)

Fire Extinguisher

Fire Poker

Fire Lighter

Hammer

Bartending Bottle Prop

Ice Cream Cone

Microwave Meal

Paper Plate

Screwdiver

Sponge

Toilet Brush

Wedding Ring

Wrench

WORLD ADVENTURES:

Canteen

Chopsticks

Dig Site Brush

Flour Bag

Fortune Cookie

Map (looks like plain parchment)

Nectar Glass

Nectar Tray

Pamphlet

Pickaxe

Pungi (snake charming instrument)

AMBITIONS:

Chisel

Fire Axe

Blowtorch

Chainsaw

Detonator

Gnubb Bunny

Gnubb King

Junk Pipe Piece

Magnifying Glass

Notepad

Shovel

Tape Measure

Tattoo Gun

Triangle Ruler

Walkie Talkie

LATE NIGHT:

Drink Shaker

Drumstick

Party Glass

Round Party Glass

Bartending Bottle Prop

Juice Can

GENERATIONS:

Envelope

Love Letter Envelope

Cheap RAM Disk

Expensive RAM Disk

Beaker

Rolled Diploma

Flashlight

Game Controller

Greeting Card

Round Flask

Sparkling Juice (champagne)

PETS:

Hoofpick

Adult Pitchfork

Child Pitchfork

Plastic Pet Food Bowl

Cat Hunting Chip Bag

Cat Hunting Feather

Cat Hunting Leaf

Dog Treat

Foal Bottle

Horse Brush

Litter Scoop

Pet Brush

Stick (for playing fetch)

Freezer Bunny Ice Cream

Kitty Litter Pile

Rainbow Ice Cream

(forgot to do the chocolate ice cream, sorry!)

SHOWTIME:

CD Case

Record

Golf Ball

Juggling Pin

Microphone (grey)

Snack Bowl

Headphones

Golf Club Average

Golf Club Expert

Golf Club Old

Firefly Jar

FireflyJar Lid

Juggling Knife

Magician Sword

SUPERNATURAL:

Fly Swatter

White Glove

Bonehilda Key

Alchemy Bowl

Alchemy Package

Beehive Smoker

SEASONS:

Horseshoe

Child Rake

Adult Rake

Barista Bar Cup

Egg Hunt Basket

Trick or Treat Basket

Carving Knife

Fruit Punch

Hot Beverage Cup

Stack of Hot Dogs

Love Letter

Pie (from eating contest)

Snow Cone Syrup

Soccer Ball

Tissue

Spooky Day Candy

UNIVERSITY:

Clipboard

Red Juice Cup

Art Scanner

Bonfire Logs

Candy Bar

Cold One

College Letter

Energy Drink

Manilla Envelope

Macot Plushy

Ping Pong Ball

Ping Pong Paddle

Mistletoe (unused asset)

Protest Banners (3 versions)

Protest Flyer

Smartphone

Soda Can

Paint Sray Can

Suitcase

Whiteboard Eraser

Whiteboard Marker

ISLAND PARADISE:

Broom

Coconut Drink

Cold Beverage

Grim Reaper Trident

Pineapple Drink

Rescue Tube

Glass Bottle Pool Bar

Pool Bar Juice Can

INTO THE FUTURE:

Microphone (black)

OIl Puddle

Stardust

Paper Bag

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build a fic no. 4 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose an object, a food and a text message (a letter, a creature + a number), and write/request to your heart’s content!

𓂃 ࣪˖ an object

꒰ A ꒱ a stapler

꒰ B ꒱ a silver necklace

꒰ C ꒱ a beach chair

꒰ D ꒱ a pair of pyjama bottoms

꒰ E ꒱ a dead phone

꒰ F ꒱ a tube of pink lipstick

꒰ G ꒱ a cctv camera

꒰ H ꒱ a broken martini glass

꒰ I ꒱ an electrical cord

꒰ J ꒱ a cheap leather belt

꒰ K ꒱ a rusted crowbar

꒰ L ꒱ an engagement ring

꒰ M ꒱ a box of shotgun shells

꒰ N ꒱ a dull kitchen knife

꒰ O ꒱ a half-full milk carton

꒰ P ꒱ a steering wheel

꒰ Q ꒱ a pair of scissors

꒰ R ꒱ a watch with a busted strap

꒰ S ꒱ a bottle of green nail varnish

꒰ T ꒱ an old coffee mug

𓂃 ࣪˖ a food

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ a can of redbull

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ half an orange

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ burnt toast

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ cheap pizza

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ sugared strawberries

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ expensive steak

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ rich belgian chocolate

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ oolong tea

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ gas station candy

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ two ibuprofen

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ piping hot cambodian coffee

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ a bag of frozen peas

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ supermarket salad

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ salted cashews

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ day-old indian takeout

꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ melting ice cream

꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ sliced mangos

꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ iced peach tea

꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ fresh honey

꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ warm croissants

𓂃 ࣪˖ a text

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Okay...Um, it's kind of weird, but it's a big, cheap, and newly renovated 1975 home in Clearfield, PA. 5bds, 7ba, 5,980 sq ft, $335k. This is a case of "You should've hired an architect." Being sold "as is" b/c they gave up, so the buyer has to finish it.

For that price you can sort of work with it. The kitchen's in, so that's a big savings.

The indoor pool is kind of dark, too small, & unappealing. They just left the tiles, the liner, and threw up their hands, I guess.

The family room has a stone fireplace and a window view of the stairs.

Look, it soars way up thru the mezzanine right to the roof.

They used knotty pine, which I happen to like.

I don't know, is this a bedroom?

Look at this bathroom. An enclosed tub with a glass door.

Nice counter and undermount sink.

Nice big sauna.

The next level is lighter. The downstairs is kind of dark.

Different vibe.

Cute corner fireplace.

Stairs to a rooftop deck.

Now, we're getting into the unfinished part. I don't know if this is a bedroom or what. From outside you can see that the deck has no railing, though.

This looks like it's going to be a bath, but that pipe seems to be in the way.

Something else that needs finishing. The house has 7 baths, but at least some of them are done.

Like this one is finished.

It's a big house. All new windows and a covered patio in the back. 10,454 sq ft lot. It's mostly done. I mean, you can live in it while you're finishing it.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/906-S-6th-St-Clearfield-PA-16830/78591827_zpid/

[supernova41st]

Scent 🕯️

Tf2 mercs scents

A/n: I was gonna say something about Medic shaving but then I got flash banged by that one picture of him with the hairy chest.

Scout

He took the term “cologne king” and ran with it.

He puts on like 10 sprays of cologne every morning guys it’s bad

Tries to cover his sleep stank with cologne every morning but it’s very much there

He does use deodorant because he’s not THAT stinky (tho spy is the one who forces him to wear it)

“Scout, did you put on your axe this morning?”

“ughhhh I don’t wanna 😒”

Uses 2 in one because he’s lazy asf. He’ll only use the good stuff if it’s from spy.

He doesn’t rlly care for face care, he uses the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ass and it works fine surprisingly

His rooms smells kinda musky but it’s subtle,it mostly comes from his mattress that he’s been using since childhood (which he barely fits on)

Heavy

Have you’ve ever been inside the car of a guy who works out frequently? Yeah

He smells musky asf, he does sweat a lot so it makes sense!

He has a subtle Cinnamon smell to him, no one knows if it’s from something he uses or if it’s natural

If you ever give him a hug god rest your soul cuz all your gonna be huffing in that day is his scent.

Def uses Dr squatch deodorant cuz he’s classy like that. Wont use cologne unless it’s a gift from someone

Spy

You’ll never catch this man being stinky, EVER.

He uses the good shit, Le Male Elixir, showers every night, and every now and then has a Smokey scent to him.

Scout begs and begs for his cologne but he’s a gatekeeping king so he won’t budge.

“SPY PLEASE JUST GIMME THE NAME”

“Absolutely not.”

“CMON-SPY WHAT ARE THE TOP NOTES? WHERE DO YOU NORMALLY SHOP??”

His shampoo has no scent + he doesn’t really care for buying the expensive stuff cuz his hair is always covered anyways.

His skincare is pretty good, uses face wash serum and moisturizer. No anti-aging stuff tho, he personally thinks aging is a privilege.

Pyro

If you can smell these two photos, you’re smelling pyro

Medic

He just smells like a hospital, but when finishing a mission he smells like straight blood.

His hospital smell mostly comes from the latex gloves he has to wear, the blood smell is from surgery’s or brutally killing enemies. (Obv)

Definitely doesn’t mind getting blood on him, so if you complain about the smell to him he’ll shrug it off.

Cologne wise he’d use something minty, he’d only ever use it when going somewhere fancy. Other than that he sees no use for cologne.

He’s quite high maintenance, so he never stinks nor does he necessarily smell good. He just smells like.. medic.

Demoman

You’ve ever took a whiff of milk to check if it’s expired? Yeah.

Sorry but he does not gaf, there’s a puke stain on his shirt from like a week ago + he uses pretty cheap cologne.

Def uses Irish spring cuz I said so, it fits him.

Would have a sleep stink but getting a sleep stink would come from a bed, lord knows he’ll make it to his bed before passing out drunk.

He doesn’t shave, he uses child safe scissors to cut his beard 😭 someone help him.

Engineer

ITS BAD.

but it’s also like, hot?

He had that garage workshop scent, he’s also sweaty cuz of course he is. For god sakes he’s in his 50s and doing garage work he shouldn’t be doing that he should be sitting down and having a fucking glass of water.

No cologne for him, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that being all the sweat he collects from making shit he probably shouldn’t be making !!

Showers at night cuz that’s when he gets all the sweat off, he takes those piping hot showers that would burn off a normal persons skin off.

Sniper

He hangs around piss jars all day, I’ll let you do the rest.

No sleep, no cologne, just him. He just smells like rain and spoiled milk.

His camper van smell interesting to say the least, it’s not necessarily clean so it just smells like straight coffee, not the good kind.

He’s not that musty! He is quite hygienic.. in a way

He had a skincare routine, and spends half and hour in the shower cuz he ends up dozing off after a while <//3

He does NOT play about that skincare routine btw, if he sees a pimple he’s tracking down what he used to cause it.

Once he does he’ll use it as target practice lol

Soldier

This guy smells like 1000 things at once.

If you took a whiff of him he’d smell like straight dirt at first, but then it somehow transfers to a wet dog kind of smell, with a hint of oil.

*need a cologne of that

If you offer him deodorant/cologne he’ll deny it. He says that the way he smells is how god intended

His helmet smells FOULL, if you take the tiniest sniff you’re gonna pass out.

[smokedesiresblog]

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[charliemwrites]

Girl rage, girl rage, girl rage!!

CW for Simon being a Jerk and a Creep, mentions of violence and murder, and kidnapping.

One time in high school, there was a boy that wouldn’t leave you alone. You gave him a million chances to knock it off, growing more and more hostile, snapping your teeth. The inappropriate touches in the hall, the lewd comments at lunch breaks, the fucking pictures. Nothing salacious, just long shots of you from afar, trying to go about your day.

One day he reached for your chest and you snapped two of his fingers. His parents wailed that you ruined his rugby career. You told them he should get better at football.

When you’re annoyed, you crack the knuckles of those same fingers on your own hand.

It’s the first thing you do when you wake up in a bare, grey basement, laid on a thin cot on the ground. Pop, pop. Recalibrating your foggy mind.

You don’t quite remember how you got here. Last clear thing is the bar. Doesn’t matter how you got here though, at least for the moment - just that you are here. And you don’t want to be.

You’re handcuffed, chain looped through an exposed pipe above your head. You clink it once, twice. Decide it’s fairly sturdy and take stock of everything else.

Your stomach is a bit tight with nausea - drug induced, you figure. Ugh. And your head aches, nothing a glass of water won’t fix.

But all your clothes are intact, no ache between your thighs or burgeoning bruises on your breasts. No shoes, though. Bummer, you liked those.

You crack the knuckles on your other hand; pop, pop.

You think of the scent of cheap whiskey, shattered glass, policemen wrapping you in a shock blanket. Remember your date chocking on his own vomit in a dark alley, then someone much bigger and stronger grabbing you as you tried to leave.

Hm.

The pipes are warm. You settle back against them and wait.

—

You don’t scream when Simon enters the basement. Don’t make a single peep. You shift against the pipes, tucking your feet under you as he approaches. Your eyes are so big, rounded as you peer up at him through your lashes.

“Such a smart girl,” he coos, “staying quiet for me. Or are you just that scared?”

You blink at him, the tiniest indent dimpling your bottom lip from your teeth. He crouches down in front of you, arms balanced on his knees. You’re curled up so small. He wants to bundle you in his lap, tuck you away.

“It’s alright, little one,” he soothes. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You twitch a bit, the metal cuffs clicking together. He flicks his eyes to them, sighs.

“Those are so that you don’t do something stupid,” he explains patiently. “Like you did earlier.”

A little furrow of confusion creases your brows. He exhales, amused despite himself. So precious, his girl. Like you can’t fathom why he would be upset with you.

“Going out with a strange man.”

He tuts, feels that black rage simmering again, same he felt when he realized you and that slime were no longer at the bar.

“He almost hurt you in that alley,” he reminds, “had he not been so drunk he tripped over his own fucking feet.”

He takes a second to breathe, fingers twitching. They feel too dry, too clean. He was so worried about getting you home that he had no time to bother taking care of that scum.

“I tried to let you have your fun, baby. I really did. But I can’t — I can’t anymore. The world is far too dangerous.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek, coos at the little shudder that runs through you. “And you’ve proven that you can’t take care of yourself.”

Your lips part. Shock, confusion, protest. It doesn’t matter, he’s more distracted feeling the soft give of your plush bottom lip beneath his thumb, bitten pink.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he soothes. “I’ll take care of you from now on.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dropping your head to your arm. He hums.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. This is for the best, I promise.”

You sniffle a bit, blink wet eyes open. Wet your lips with the tip of your pretty pink tongue.

“What… what do I call you?” you ask, voice soft and raspy.

Oh, such a sweet thing. Such a sweet, clever girl. You’re going to be so, so good for him.

“Just Ghost for now, luv. Let me get you some water, you’ve earned it.”

—

You exhale slow and soft, counting every fourth heartbeat. If you don’t, you’ll start trying to break things. The smart money is on your bones giving before that stupid pipe. So. Breathing it is.

You’ve never felt out of control in anger. Everything is always so sharp and clear, you think and move with a precision you usually can’t coax from mind or body.

This… Ghost, though.

It was a pleasant surprise that he didn’t realize what you did in the alley. Too dark, perhaps. Too quiet. Perhaps he thought you were fleeing in fear.

It’s an advantage you can’t squander. He’s much bigger than you, much stronger. Carries himself with posture and purpose reminiscent of military or former military bearing. There’s a physicality to the way he moves that echos violence.

You know that you will only get one proper shot to escape. There is no point wasting it on shouting and cursing and snarling. Even if he did only consider it bluster and bark, it would plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Make him careful and conscious of any slip ups.

Sometimes, rabid animals appear friendly or docile. The virus gets a new victim close enough to turn and bite, spreading and infecting.

You run your tongue over your teeth, imagine the taste of blood if you’d bitten through his thumb like you wanted to. Inhale and exhale again, start the counter over.

Pause to resist another sneeze, blinking past watery eyes and sniffling it away. Christ, he couldn’t have at least cleaned the basement before chaining you up down here? Could barely focus on his ridiculous monologue through the allergies.

Not that you think you missed much; and you’re sure you’ll be hearing it again.

He’s just like every other man you’ve ever killed, you muse, settling in again. And it’ll be so, so sweet watching the blood bloom.

[ashncloud1]

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[symbiomancy]

spin the bottle —ryōmen sukuna

—summary: A game of Spin the Bottle at a party reveals a bit of Sukuna's jealousy. What else to do but fuck it out against the side of your parents' home? // AO3

—cw: stepcest, jealousy, quickie (p in v sex), creampie

—wc: 1,5k

—a/n: more stuff will come once i stop being so hyper-critical about my smut.

Your gaze meets Sukuna’s from across the room when someone calls out for a game of Spin the Bottle. He raises a brow, so do you. The moment stretches, drags. Eventually, you put down your cup and approach the circle forming in the middle of the room.

“You playing?” Someone asks and you nod. He motions to the circle, tells you to pick a spot, and downs his bottle of cheap beer. You find a spot between two girls, one you recognize from Sukuna’s class and you give her a quiet greeting as you settle in. Then there’s movement in the corner of your eye, a body pressing between you and the girl and you open your mouth to snap and tell him to fuck off —

Sukuna raises a brow at you as he settles in, nodding at the girl in greeting. You close your mouth, turn to look at the beer bottle placed in the middle of the circle as someone reaches out and gives it a spin.

It’s… uneventful. A boring game.

You make a face when a guy spits into a girl's mouth as they’re pulling apart. She slaps him across the face and the sound reverberates off the walls. A chorus of hoots and cheers and grimaces and laughter follows. You make no effort to stifle the laughter that bubbles from your throat.

The bottle is re-centered and you reach out, give it a spin.

It spins, slows, stops.

You stare at the dark glass, at the neck pointed towards the person sitting to your right.

Sukuna stares at the bottle, at the neck pointed at him. He raises his gaze from the bottle to stare at you, brows furrowed, then looks at the bottle again. Silence lingers, stretches.

“No way,” you say, reaching for the bottle to give it another spin. You wind your hand — maybe it’ll land on a pretty girl, that would be a nice change of pace —, and someone’s fingers clamp around your wrist. The reaction is immediate, a familiar hand clamping down on that wrist, squeezing.

Sukuna is frowning, glaring at the offender, some random guy you don’t recognize from your class or his.

“Okay, touchy,” the guy drawls. “But rules are rules, dude. Gotta kiss.”

“Dude,” a girl you vaguely recognize pipes in, mocking the tone of his voice, “they’re siblings.”

“They don’t even look alike.” He pauses, squints at you, and then at Sukuna. “Not alike.”

“Our parents are engaged,” you say.

“So?”

“I’m not playing into your weird step-siblings fantasy. Let go.”

The guy scrunches his face, looks at Sukuna, then back at you before releasing his grip. Sukuna releases his grip moments later and sits back.

You center the bottle and spin. It ricochets off your leg, wobbles, slows, stills.

The very same jackass looks up at you with a smug grin slowly expanding, lips splitting. His eyes drop from your face to your chest, linger there for a moment and then he’s leaning forward, inching closer on all fours across the space in the middle of the circle —

“Nope,” Sukuna says. He stands in one move, hand on your bicep to haul you up from the floor with him. You ragdoll after him for the few moments it takes to find your footing. Sukuna’s grip on you is tight but not painfully so as he weaves through the rooms and the hordes of drunk teenagers and young adults.

The cool night air is invigorating and you take a deep breath the moment you’re out of the alcohol-fume desecrated house. It’s moist and cool, a reminder of the impending thunderstorm predicted for tomorrow. Sukuna shrugs off his jacket and drops it onto your head.

You don’t speak on your way to the train station, nor when you get on the train. You spot him from the window of the women’s cart as you’re rolling the sleeves of his jacket up to accommodate the length for your liking and wave at him. He rolls his eyes but waves back.

The streets of your (still relatively new) neighborhood are quiet. Houses are dark, the streetlamps illuminating your way. Lone few windows are still alight. The murmur of a conversation reaches your ear as you pass two women standing by the front door of a house, lit cigarettes in hand.

Sukuna is silent, staring ahead, hands shoved into his pant pockets. So, you loop your arm through his, tug on it until he looks at you.

“That was hot,” you say, a grin curling the corners of your lips up. “Were you jealous?”

He bristles, looks away from you.

He opens the gate door for you, closes and locks it behind himself. He’s hot on your heels as you approach the house, his hot breath caressing the back of your neck.

You stop at the steps of the house, glance at the windows — all dark — and turn to him, rise onto your tiptoes. Your lips hover over his, just out of reach. His breath dances on your lips — a tinge of vodka. You close the gap, press your lips against his.

His mouth is hot — yeah, that’s vodka on his tongue. The thoughts melt away as his tongue presses against yours, his hands on your jaw, warm and big. Secure.

Sukuna movies swiftly, presses you against the side of the house, hands on your body, gliding, groping, petting. Fire blooms under your skin, follows the trail of his fingers. They push under your flimsy shirt, cup your breasts.

“Y’re so soft,” he mutters against your lips.

You fumble with his belt buckle until it comes undone and shove your hand down his pants. He’s already hard, tip leaking. You give it a gentle squeeze, run a finger over the slit — he hisses into your mouth, withdraws slightly, sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. Then he’s pressing against you again, firm chest trapping you in place, your hand still wrapped around his shaft. You give it an experimental pump and swallow the groan that escapes Sukuna’s lips. One of his hands, searing hot, wanders down your side, dragging the heat under your skin with it. It grasps the back of your thigh, squeezes the plush of flesh.

“Jump, jump.”

You do, wrap your arms around his neck and haul yourself up. Sukuna wraps your legs around his waist, drags his hand underneath your pink skirt. Thick fingers press against your clothed cunt, smooth over the wet spot on the fabric, tug it aside.

He angles your body, one hand wrapped around his dick to drag the tip through your folds. You take an even breath to stifle the moan in the back of your throat.

Sukuna presses the tip of his swollen cock against your entrance, just barely breaching it. This time you gasp audibly, tighten your grip around his neck, try to force your hips down, seeking that friction.

“Please, please, please,” you whisper against his shoulder.

He hums, presses forward into your tight, wet heat. You press your mouth against his shirt, groan against the stretch, the blissful fullness. His breaths grow shaky against your ear and he pauses, taking a moment to compose himself.

“Again?” You ask, the ghost of a smile on your lips. There’s a wet spot on his shoulder from your saliva.

“You’re funny,” he says and pulls his hips back, then snaps them up, pushes back into you. A gasp escapes your lips, bounces off the house wall — you’re too busy feeling sparks at the base of your spine, rushing up and splitting into your extremities to notice it — to stifle it. He settles into a pleasant rhythm, every drag of his cock forcing the air from your lungs. He plunges in, out of your sloppy, wet cunt. Heat blooms in your cheeks, you can’t bear the sound of your poor cunt swallowing your step-brother’s cock.

Heat coils in the pit of your stomach. He’s so big, so thick, so good, he drags against your walls so well and hits that spot with every stroke. Your body wants to ragdoll under him, the back of his jacket dragging against the rough exterior of the house as he thrusts up, down. In, out.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly the coil in your body snaps and you cum, pussy clenching around him. You cry out, sink your teeth into his shoulder and the feeling of weightlessness rushes through your veins. Sukuna says something, something you can’t decipher over the ringing in your ears and he speeds up, pumps in and out of your sopping cunt with reckless abandon. He stalls abruptly, buries himself into you to the hilt and spills inside. You’re still spasming around him, milking him for every drop he has to offer.

He’s warm, so warm.

Your chest is heaving — so is his —, breaths mixing in the cool night air. It stings your throat and lungs and soothes your sweat-slick skin. A smile threatens to split your lips apart and you press your face against his shoulder, stifle your giggle.

“What?” Sukuna asks, but he makes no move to pull out.

“You’re kinda fun when you’re jealous.”

A laugh rumbles in his chest, reverberates in yours.

banners by @/cafekitsune

[anonyymouslyyours]

hi I have literally never done this before but I saw your post just now and thought what the heck

could you write a small thing about spencer reid where reader and him are neighbours and they both have a little crush on each other but never get to interact because spencer is literally never there

until either reader or spencer's apartment floods and it's 3am so they just go to their neighbour and there's maybe a cute confession?

(feel free to add your own pizzazz I love your writing!!!) <3333

hihihi girl! request anytime! this also ended up being a lotttt longer then intended <3

warnings: none, its fluffy its cute, like rlly cute and a bit cliche.

spencer reid. that was your neighbours name. considering he was home very little, you'd only seen him a few times and you've never even spoken a word; it seemed silly how much time you spent thinking about him.

you'll admit, your a sucker for a tall brunette with glasses, who wore ties and vests, and perhaps looked just a little nerdy. it was sweet, spencer looked very sweet.

he also happens to be your next door neighbour. like literally, you open the door of your house every day, and are confronted with the site of his own house. he's right there. you've debated sliding a note under his door, or just knocking and suggesting coffee, but you've always backed out.

the opportunity however, presents itself in a slightly annoying way. in the afternoon, you arrive home and walk into your living room to discover the entire floor flooded. one quick check of the house, and you've determined the entire place is flooded.

"jesus christ." you mutter, dialing a plumber and the flood services in your city.

when they arrive, its determined your house will be unliveable for 2 days. 2 whole days.

the plumber, matt, stares at you. "apologies, lady, but your pipes are pretty busted. its gonna cost you too."

you groan, annoyed.

"oh, uh your neighbour, you should check with them. see if they've got any issues." he adds.

you stop, spencer. your neighbour. you have a reason to go talk to him. you leave the plumber, and his little team to get to work, and cross the street to spencers house.

knock. knock.

maybe he isnt home. you look at his driveway. his car is there. the door creaks, and opens, revealing spencer reid. the man himself. in all his messy hair, rumpled shirt, afternoon glory. he pushes his glasses up, staring at you, suprised.

"hi. sorry i'm-"

"y/n." he says, quickly, and then flushes.

"right." your suprised he knows your name, though you do know his. "look uhm, sorry to bother you.. but my house kind of flooded. like everywhere. so, uhh- i was just checking if your house is all good."

his eyes widen. "your entire house? is flooded?"

you nod, grimacing. "yeah.. i mean my stuffs fine, i just have to find somewhere to stay and its a pain." you say, folding your arms and sighing.

he looks at you for a moment, thoughtful.

"uh.. besides from the fact im a total stranger.. you could um, stay with me? i mean. i have a guest room, im usually out all day. i'll cook." he says, quickly. he looks at you, expecting a no.

your suprised at his offer, intrigued even. he seems safe, your not uncomfortable.. and it would save you from having to stay in some cheap hotel.

"really? i mean- are you sure?" you confirm, raising your eyebrows at him.

he nods energetically, smiling. "i mean, it would be easier for you."

you nod, smiling back.

"well.. uh come in?" he says, shuffling to the side awkwardly.

his house is delightful, with heavy linen curtains, and tall bookshelves. the house is mostly wood, with touches of green and navy. it fits him perfectly.

"nice place you have here." you say, smiling.

"thank you." he says, staring at you for a moment. you catch him, and he looks away quickly.

"do you, uhm want a coffee? we can sit for a bit if you'd like." he says, gesturing at the couches in his living room.

you nod. "black with sugar, please."

"oh- i have mine just the same." he grins, hurrying off the the kitchen, before returning with a cup for you. he sits opposite you, studying you for a moment.

"so.. spencer, how long have you lived here?" you ask.

"5 years. which.. i think is a year longer then you?" he smiles.

"correct. uh, where do you work?"

he pauses, thinking thoughtfully. "truthfully, i work in the fbi. behavioral analysis unit." he says, staring right at you.

you shuffle in your seat, suddenly aware that this possibly means he can read your every emotion, or thought.

"thats very.. impressive, but then again you do have an intelligent look to you."

he chuckles, "well, i have been told i dress the part."

you laugh, smiling at him.

"you know.. i noticed you a while ago." he says, looking down at his coffee and swirling it.

you raise an eyebrow, curious.

"how so?"

"well, if i may be bold, your very- uhm very pretty."

your eyes widen, taken aback. you flush, letting out a soft giggle.

"you think so?" you whisper, staring at him. he finally looks up at you, nodding.

"do you say that to all the women you invite into your home?" you tease.

"i don't often invite women into my home.. in fact, you might be a first. quite special." he smiles. your cheeks feel hotter.

"well, spencer, i noticed you a while ago too. your very cute. you might be just my type." you say, staring at him.

its his turn to blush, and he looks nervous, as he turns away from you, lips parting into a smile.

"perhaps a blessing in disguise your apartment being flooded.." he whispers, the smile evident in his voice.

"i mean," you chuckle. "there has been one good outcome.."

"mmm.. silver linings and all." he says, turning to look you right in the eye. its sweet, hes very sweet. you think your very much going to enjoy your next two days here... perhaps even extend your stay.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Trapped behind glass

Shower Sex CW: Non-con, Dub-con, inhuman penetration, multiple penetration, urination, strangulation

The glass door to the standing shower clicked shut as (Reader) stepped in. It had been a long day at work and they needed to melt their skin off their body with boiling water.

Creaking loudly due to age, the pipes shook as the water struggled to heat up, shooting out at (Reader) while it was still cold, startling them. It didn't matter how long they lived in their shitty, cheap apartment, the terrible plumbing always surprised them with just how terrible it was.

It slowly did warm up, however, drenching (Reader's) exhausted flesh in a comforting way.

As the water sprayed across their back the texture changed suddenly, the water feeling thicker and heavier than normal. But when (Reader) looked at the shower head, afraid that they were getting splashed with muck, they found that everything looked normal. 'Fucking lead pipes..' (Reader) thought bitterly, not really knowing if hard water was the explanation or not.

Water now almost slimey, the thick oozing liquid dripped over their goosebumps, grossing (Reader) past their breaking point. When they realized the water wasn't going to be changing back, they turned the knob to shut it off, but the water continued running.

"Fuck me.." (Reader) whined, not wanting to deal with maintenance nor the inevitable water bill. They reached for the door, but found themselves paralyzed. It was as if their entire body was tightly bound in a latex suit, restricting their movements. Across their flesh, the "water" began moving in different directions, flowing with a mind of it's own.

(Reader) opened their mouth to scream, but their throat was instantly filled with the hot goo, writhing inside of them, but never sliding down to their lungs or stomach. As they focused on the pulsing water gliding over their tongue they didn't notice the gushing liquid searching for their entrance until it flooded every hole between their legs, including their urethra. The warmth hurt only for a second, never stretching to the point of pain. But it was uncomfortable and strange.

Every inch of (Reader) felt violated, the water massaging their entire form, not only fucking every opening (suffocating as it rammed up their nose, birthing a migraine from the lack of oxygen, accentuated by the rushing water in their ears); using every hole used like a fuck hole, but their skin was slick like someone was masturbating by riding their wet exterior.

It continued ramming into them, dripping and leaking seemingly without end. The sensation of a foreign entity entering their piss slit while teetering on the brink of unconsciousness made (Reader) lose control of their bladder, unable to feel embarrassment with the black spots filling their vision as their urine coated their thighs along with the water like being, mixing with the fluid creature and (Reader's) arousal.

Every time they almost passed out the thing would retract from their nose, just long enough for them to regain their strength before plunging back in, plugging them up.

They couldn't think, the intensity of the fucking and the strangulation leaving them a soaking mess, slobbering over the hard water and cumming freely into the drain, orgasming multiple times without fully being aware that they were doing so.

Eventually the water seemed satisfied, sliding off (Reader's) body to drip down the drain and defy gravity to retract into the spout. (Reader) collapsed onto the shower floor, the only liquid left on their shaking form was their own, piss, drool and their climax, leaving them to fall asleep, wet and cold, too scared to turn back on the water to wash themselves off.