#Grey water treatment

[uptodatehome]

Grey Water Recycling Systems: Your Guide to Sustainable Water Management at Home

As environmental awareness grows, homeowners and businesses alike are seeking ways to conserve resources and reduce their ecological footprints. One highly effective solution is implementing a grey water recycling system. Grey water systems allow you to reuse water from sinks, showers, and washing machines for non-potable purposes, reducing both water consumption and utility costs. In this…

[nisbahemas]

Great idea for a grey water filtration and repurposing system. Not my video or interview obviously, description has some links that might be useful for the curious. Here’s part of it:

In this episode, we return to Murray's tiny house on wheels in the Yarra Valley, Victoria, Australia, where he has set up a clever grey water treatment system for his home based on permaculture principles.

Become a Living Big Patron: https://www.patreon.com/livingbig

Grey Water Treatment is really important, but there isn't a lot of information out there about these systems, especially for off-the-grid tiny homes like this one. In this video, we go into detail about how the system works, and how it was built giving you all the information to tackle the task yourself should you with to build one.

Murray's system is affordable, easy to set up and can be done as a DIY project. The clean water which comes from the micro-wetland is then used in a series of wicking garden beds for growing organic food.

[pumpingstationsuk]

In the realm of water conservation and sustainable living, grey water pumps have emerged as pivotal components. As environmental concerns continue to rise, particularly in the UK, understanding how to select the appropriate grey water pump for your needs is more crucial than ever. This guide aims to demystify the selection process, ensuring you make an informed choice.

[fazalkhan2914]

BY PASS OIL INTERCEPTOR IN QATAR-Alkhabeerwt AL KHABEER WATER TREATMENT LLC, one of the top companies in the UAE, is an expert in water and wastewater treatment systems. Please contact us with any further needs. https://www.alkhabeerwt.com/OIL-Interceptor-projects.html

[bookbargainbuy]

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[mead-iocre]

Pay Attention To Me | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: do you know what's worse than dating a football player? dating a football fan.

warnings: brief mention of sex

wc: 2.5k words

Sometimes you wonder to yourself what possessed you to date a footballer. You weren’t athletic or sporty, and unlike your athlete brothers, you didn’t enjoy any sport enough to stick to it. Your only means of exercise was pilates and the occasional trip to the beach in your cute bikini. 

So how did you end up dating a professional footballer? 

You found yourself thinking about that question as you sit curled up on one end of the leather sofa browsing the Chanel website on your laptop. On the other end of the sofa, with her legs sprawled out and a beer bottle in one hand, sat your girlfriend. Leah was dressed in a grey hoodie and matching grey joggers; her hair was down, which was a rarity these days due to the heat, streaks of light blonde strands framing her pretty face. From your place on the sofa, you are granted the most breathtaking view of the ocean thanks to the expansive glass walls. The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see; the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. As the sun begins to set, it casts a golden glow over the water, making the waves glimmer and sparkle.

The villa was gorgeous, and exactly like how the pictures showed it to be. You had chosen the place yourself, tempted by the promises of walking out onto the deck and being able to jump into crystal clear waters. The spacious overwater bungalow features polished wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, and furnishings in soft, neutral tones complemented by cool-tone vibrant accents. When you showed pictures of the villa to your girlfriend, she took once glance at it and handed you her gold amex card. She didn’t even ask you for the price. 

Back to your own question earlier, the short answer was that Leah was attractive as hell. She was also everything you could ask for in a partner. She's got a cracking sense of humour, she's passionate about her job, family-orientated, and it didn’t hurt that she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. She made sure to spend as much time with you around her busy schedule. She accepted that you were high-matainance, and gladly indulged you. Leah was the whole package. Sometimes as you lay in bed, when the night is still and quiet, you would take a moment to thank your lucky stars that she walked into your life. 

However, no one in this world is perfect– even someone like Leah Williamson.

Your girlfriend’s biggest flaw was that she is a football player–and by extension– that meant she was a football fan.

And that was the problem. 

Today was the 2024 Euros final. England somehow managed to slither their way to the tournament final and will be facing Spain to compete for the title of Champions of Europe 2024. The original plan was to head over to the Williamson’s house so everyone could watch the game together. However, your birthday happened to fall in the week leading up to the final. As a birthday gift from your very generous girlfriend, Leah had surprised you with a week-long trip to the Maldives. Her only condition was that she gets to watch the Euros final at the villa 

Uninterrupted. 

And being the good girlfriend that you are, you were more than happy to compromise. That is until you realise that Leah has pretty much ignored you the entire day. 

Well– maybe ignore is the wrong term. She was acting the same this morning– ordering a breakfast spread fit for champions by the time you woke up, booking a luxury spa treatment for the both of you at the resort, and even letting you run wild with her card at the nearby mall where there’s a strip of high-end stores with names like Cartier, Vacheron Constantin, and Dior. You came strutting back to the villa in your new pair of Jimmy Choo kitten heels, while Leah trails behind you, her arms full of shopping bags– all of them belonging to you.

However, you were what other people would call clingy. You craved attention and affection more than the usual person. Physical touch was your love language, and most of the time, your girlfriend was more than happy to meet your needs. 

But not today it seems. 

She was far too busy watching a bunch of men on telly chase a ball around a field of freshly cut grass to pay enough attention to you.

Finally getting board of looking at bags and shoes on your laptop, you shut it down and put it aside. Stretching one leg over the length of the cream white sofa, you nudge Leah with your foot. “Lee…”

Without even moving her eyes away from the screen, your girlfriend just hums in reply. Rude.

Another nudge with your freshly manicured toes. “Leah”

Finally he blonde turns to you, grasping your foot with one hand effectively putting an end to your incessant poking. “What, baby?”

“I’m bored” You pout at her. 

“Then watch the game, darling” She tilts her head towards the 85” Samsung TV that is mounted on the wall. Her hand was now lightly massaging your foot and your calves, probably sensing how tense you are. 

You groan in reply, your head falling backwards dramatically. “That's exactly what’s boring me, Lee” 

Leah just smiles, but it’s a bit strained. She just wants to watch the game, and you’re making it hard for her to focus. She’s usually used to your indifference for the sport that she happens to make a career out of. You only "enjoyed" football when your girlfriend was playing. You attended all her matches and would cheer loudly for her when she's on the pitch. Whenever Leah would drag you along with to watch football matches as a spectator with her, you would reluctantly agree– after many kisses and promises of shopping afterwards– and armed with the latest copy of Vogue to pass the time. If she wasn’t on the pitch, you did not care.

You sneak a peek at her, wanting to see if she would indulge you further, but she was already turning her attention back to the TV. Stupid tv. 

You rattle your foot that is still under her hand. You didn’t know where this was coming from but you had enough of being pushed aside for a game of football. “Leah!” 

And that’s when she snaps. 

“Fucking hell– would it kill you to be quiet! Can’t you see I’m trying to watch the match, mate?” She gestures wildly at the tv. Her eye brows were drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. When she looked at you again, her gaze was intense– piercing almost.

You glare back at her, hoping she can feel your wrath from her peripheral since she has once agin directed her eyes back to the tv. “m’not your mate” 

You huff audibly, snatching your foot back from her grasp. You could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside you. Sure, you had both compromised that Leah gets to spend one day to watch the game uninterrupted. And yes, you did get your girlfriend all to yourself during the last five days, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away like this. You were being selfish, but who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is being uncharacteristically mean about it.

When you were in one of your moods, you had a habit of muttering under your breath when things don't go your way, making scathing, albeit humorous, remarks. It wasn’t long before the sounds of you grumbling under your breath could be heard by your now equally moody girlfriend. 

“bloody football…this was supposed to be a birthday trip yet my girlfriend is spending time watching ugly men kick a ball around…we could’ve been snorkelling and exploring the reefs or having sex on a yacht but nooooooo apparently football is more interesting”

Sometimes Leah found it cute but other times, like today, your grumbling was annoying and it was distracting her from the game. The blonde just wants an hour or two to watch football uninterrupted, yet you can't even give her that. She smacks her hand down hard on the sofa, startling you and putting an end to your angry muttering. Leah turns to you and glares. “If you want to keep grumbling like that go do it somewhere else. You’re actually fucking pissing me off. don't know why I even put up with you” She groans the last bit as she rubs her forehead like you were some sort of nuisance to her.  

That did it. 

You were annoyed at the lack of affection from your girlfriend, and the same person that you wanted attention from was now mad at you. You glare at her right back, but your eyes were starting to water and you were getting the sniffles.

Wrestling the blanket off your lap like you were fighting an alligator, you swing your legs off the sofa, ready to stomp to the room and slam the door like a mature lady when Leah grabs your arm before you can move. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby” 

You angrily wipe away a traitorous tear as it slides down your cheek, trying to shake off the blonde’s grip but she holds firm. She moves to stand on her own two feet until she’s standing in front of you. Leah crouches down slightly, forcing your eyes to meet her blue ones. She frowns when she notices your tear stained cheeks. “Darling…hey, look at me, please”

You meet her eyes, albeit reluctantly. She rewards your effort with a kiss on your wet cheek. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, please. You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

“Oyarzabal…Cucurella! 2-1 SPAIN!! Time is running out and Spain are nearly there. Oyarzabal hooks the ball out left to Cucurella, who beats a flagging Walker with a lovely diagonal ball into the box.The substitute is stretching ahead of Stones, having timed his run to perfection in between England's two centre-backs, and slides to put Spain back in front. This might just be it for England…”

Shit.

You head snapped towards the tv in shock, your annoyance disappearing. While you weren't personally rooting for any of the two teams, your English girlfriend was rooting for England so you automatically were rooting for England too. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You were anticipating a slew of cursed words from the Milton Keynes native, but her eyes had not left your face once, far too concerned about making sure you were okay. You were her number one priority, always. 

Taking a step closer to her, you rub the sides of her waist lightly. It was your turn to comfort your girlfriend. You hug her, pressing your head against her chest to listen to the rhythmic beating of her heart. It’s soothing and familiar, and any lingering feelings of frustration have completely disappeared. 

“The lads can pull one back” You say to her, peeking at the time running at the left top corner of the screen. Your girlfriend still hasn't said anything and you assume it's because she's sad about the score. “They’ve still got 10 minutes to equalise– plus additional time to play.” Just because you weren’t the biggest football fan out there did not mean you didn’t understand how the sport works. 

“Quit thinking about the match for a minute, baby, I don’t care about them right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” Leah pulls back slightly, cupping your face gently, and you lean into the warmth of her palms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lee. I was just been silly” You pucker your lips up at her, and she grants your request with a grin. She kisses you once, and then again, pecking your lips repeatedly like she can’t get enough of you. 

You give her one more kiss, giving her a sharp bite on her lower lip before you pull away completely. Leah frowns at that, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. 

“I’m going to grab my laptop and watch Desperate Housewives out on the hammock. I’ll leave you to your football–alone– so you can focus.”

“What no. Baby, you can’t leave me when we’re one nil down during a Euros final” Leah gestures animatedly at the TV, the scoreline still showing Spain in the lead. “Stay with me. Watch your show right here with me” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Without waiting for you to reply, Leah began pulling you by the hand back to the sofa. She sat down, tugging you onto her lap. You just laugh, not even bothering to reach for your abandoned laptop on the other side of the sofa. You snuggle into her, your chest pressed together, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. Just because you agreed to stay with her, doesn’t mean you were interested in watching the match. 

A buzzing from the inside of your short’s pocket startles you slightly. You glance at the screen, reading the text, and then gasp. 

“love, my Chanel sales associate is asking me if I’d like to book an appointment at their store to see their new collection! There’s actually a cute bag that I've been thinking about…"

Leah hums, distracted slightly, not even looking at the phone screen that you are practically shoving into her face. “Yeah, we can get your bag once we arrive back home” 

You squeal, already texting your sales associate to go ahead and book you in. 

“–only if England win it” The typing stops and your heart drops. Your celebration cut short. 

“w-what…b-but, love…” You look up at her to see if she was serious, and to your dismay there's not a hint of playfulness in her gaze. She's serious. Glancing back at the screen, you see England have only 5 minutes left to equalise if they want to play for additional time, but the seconds are ticking by quickly. 

Scrambling off your girlfriend’s lap, you take your place beside her on the sofa instead. You have never been more motivated to cheer for a team your girlfriend was not playing for. Mustering all the manifestation in the universe, and your desperate need for that Chanel medium 25cm double flap shoulder bag in pink quilted lambskin leather with silver metal trim, you shout from the top of your voice “C’mon, England!!”

Leah just laughs loudly beside you, yelling and whooping too. 

However, sports can be a cruel thing sometimes.

England did not end up winning the Euros, much to the dismay of your girlfriend— and probably an entire nation. However, you got your bag anyway. Leah could never say no to you. She would give you the entire world if you asked for it, but luckily all you wanted is a pink Chanel bag– for now. 

More spoilt!reader x Leah because you all seem to enjoy her.

I wrote this the day after the Euros and then abandoned it because I got stuck and experience a writer's block halfway lol. Hope it still delivered.

-- kisses, butter.

[lnfours]

Hi baby! Saw you need some inspiration and I thought, do you know the early stages of dating? Like, you are getting to know the person and there are aspects you don't expect and surprise you and I imagined the first time reader realises how much clingy Lando can be and it's just cute and lovey dovey 🥺 maybe he is sick or something and turns into a giant baby

hello, my love!!! 🥹 it's been a while, i missed you sm!!! i hope you're doing well! <3

also, i can totally see lando turning into a big baby when he's sick, and even when he isn't 😁

blurb day to cure my writers block

it was early morning when lando's name lit up your phone, a soft buzz following his text. you knew he landed late last night and when you called him just before bed he sounded a bit nasally, almost like he was catching a cold.

sure enough, the text you read on the screen confirmed your suspicions.

would you kill me if i asked to reschedule our lunch date? i'm feeling like i got hit by a bus 😩

you immediately texted him back, fingers typing quickly on the screen.

not at all! do you need anything? i can stop at the store and come by, maybe make some soup if you're feeling up to it ❤️

he felt guilty for canceling the date you two had planned out before he left, especially because he had been away for weeks. his head was pounding and his sinuses were all stuffed up, but as he read your message back to him, he couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. the sweet words making his heart jump up to his throat.

depends, does the chef also provide cuddles upon request? 🤔

i'm sure they'd be able to make special accommodations, just for you 😌

oh, he was on cloud nine...

lovely, see you soon? ❤️

see you soon ❤️

you threw on the first pair of sweatpants and hoodie you could find before grabbing your things and rushing out the door, making your way to the store. after browsing the medicine isle for all different kinds of treatments and debating on wether or not to splurge for the extra strength medicine, which you did, you grabbed the ingredients to make the soup. the same recipe your mom used to make for you whenever you were feeling under the weather, the one that worked like a charm.

and shortly after, you were knocking on the door to his apartment. smiling sympathetically when he opened the door with tired eyes and a small smile, the hood of his black hoodie pulled over the mess of brown curls. he looked tired, and he definitely looked sick.

"'ve got every medicine i could find," you said, pulling all the packages out from the bag and placing them onto the counter, "and the ingredients for the soup my mom used to make."

he sat in the stool at the kitchen island, head resting on his hand as he watched you open one of the packets of pills. you popped one out of it's foil casing, turning around and grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water before sliding them towards him, "here, this should help with the head and stuffy nose."

he nodded, taking the pills before reaching out to you now that you were in arms length. you let him pull you closer, slightly giggling and wrapping your arms around him as his head rested on your stomach.

you had heard that men were big babies whenever they were sick, but with lando it seemed... different. almost like he had been hiding the fact that he enjoyed cuddling into you, not wanting to scare you off in the beginning stages of your relationship.

but you didn't mind, not one bit. you liked this, and you would've stayed like this for the rest of the day if you didn't have a recipe to start.

his words were muffled into your sweatshirt as he softly spoke, voice gravely, "thank you."

you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his hoodie-clad head, "'course,"

he picked his head up and you were met with the same grey-green eyes you were met with at the door, this time they screamed sleep deprived. you tucked the curls back underneath the hood, "wanna go lay on the couch while i start this? i'll join you when 'm done,"

he nodded, moving slowly towards the couch before flopping down, grabbing the blanket from the back panels and getting comfortable. he flipped the tv on as you tried your best not to be loud with the pots and pans, cautious of his pounding head.

and when the soup was finally at the stage where it had to be left to boil for hours, you made your way into the living room. you smiled softly at his cheek pressed against the couch cushion, eyes closed as he finally drifted off to sleep. you carefully joined him on the couch, stirring him awake shortly as he pulled you closer, legs intertwining with yours and his head falling to your chest.

the moment you realized you were slowly, but surely, falling in love with him. willing to do anything and everything for him as long as he was yours.

[devine-fem]

This is the post about Damian Wayne being whitewashed that will probably go ignored because it dives deeper than pointing at a Damian Wayne and urging DC to draw him darker. I don’t particularly care about likes but I feel like we should emphasize whitewashing in detail and not just pointing at Damian and being like “he should be darker than this!”

What is whitewashing?

Whitewashing is deeper than the color of someones skin, it boils down to the way they act, are perceived and is portayed over all. If you take away a character’s cultural roots in any way then you are whitewashing them.

-

Let’s start with The Brave & The Bold. No one talks about this but this is a perfect example of whitewashing. In the Brave & The Bold writers took Damian Wayne and just emphasized the Wayne in his name. Damian’s culture did not fit their narrative so they entirely erased it.

Bruce Wayne married Selina Kyle and after had a baby, no, that baby was not Helena. It was Damian. Damian Wayne and only Wayne. He had no connection to Talia whatsoever. They erased Talia and the Al Ghuls entirely from Damian’s story.

This is an example of how his whitewashing goes deeper than skin. He’s now entirely white, drawn as white and lives as a white kid. They changed the way he acted, was perceived and portrayed.

Then because that’s not enough. His identity was a very blatant copy of Tim Drake. He takes Tim Drake’s suit, he takes Tim Drake’s backstory and he takes Tim Drake’s iconic catchphrases, its extremely jarring. This is another example of whitewashing, taking away his personality and to fit a white character.

The Tim Drake curse.

Another example of whitewashing would be the continuous attempt to make Damian Wayne more relatable by watering down his personality and making him reflect Tim Drake. Tim Drake was Robin for so long and so loved that it has a lasting effect on other characters as well. As long as Damian wears that “R” that was celebrated at its highest when the character wearing it was fair skinned then I doubt he’ll ever escape this. This is whitewashing because erasing his personality is also erasing his roots on the most basic level. In his stories, he becomes an average highschool student, pursues romances, indulges in feel good family fun, gets bullied, and wears suits and changes his hair once again to reflect Tim Drake. I don’t even have to mention how light he is.

The Three Horsemen of The Pale-skinned Apocalypse.

On the left we have a portrayel of Damian Wayne with light skin and blue eyes. Not only that but in this comic, they didn’t even get his culture right… the writer must had thought he was japanese… he’s not… he’s part Arab and Chinese but genetically dominant and visually POC.

In the middle we have a Damian Wayne called “Ian.” It’s just Ian. This is an example of whitewashing because if you didn’t know; Talia named Damian after the word “Damianos” which means ‘to tame’. To erase his cultural roots in his name then you are whitewashing him. And Jonathan Kent, a visually and socially white character regardless of the immigrant-kryptonian allegory, did not get this treatment. Those characters seem to never get this treatment as we know.

On the right, we have Damian’s newest installation, the one DC twisted their comically large spoon into their Witch’s caucasian cauldron and used their magic to zap Damian with that Tim Drake curse. Damian’s eyes are green, not grey or blue and his hair is thicker than that, not straight and thin. Nor does he act like this. This is an example of whitewashing. You are changing how he acts, is perceived and portayed.

How to avoid this?

It’s simple actually, just exercise the way he was originally portayed which sadly has never been wrote exactly right since he was first introduced but as you can see:

This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne flaunts his culture in the way he dresses and acts. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne speaks his native languages when it’s convenient to him. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne is connected to Talia and grew up in the league of Assassins. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne made his own Robin suit.

He has brown skin, he has soft green eyes, and look at his monolids, his hair is also thick and his face is dinstinctly shaped as well. The easiest way is just to portay Damian as he is; An Arab-Chinese kid.

For example, this artist made a conscious decision to study the way Damian Wayne looks before drawing him. Even adding distinct features like a nose bump which we never get to really see from him.

Why does whitewashing happen?

The idea that a person of colors’ features and culture are not appealing to the audience and needs to be altered to fit the norm in order to be palatable.

In fandom.

If you portray Selina Kyle as Damian’s mother then you are whitewashing him. If you change the way he acts in fanfiction because you don’t like it then you are whitewashing him. If you draw Damian Wayne lighter than what he’s supposed to be than you are whitewashing him. If you demonize the Al Ghuls and put the batboys in place of them then you are whitewashing him. If you change the meaning of Robin for him then you are whitewashing him (this does not include reverse robin AU’s for example) and if you make him do any action that’d align him with what an American kid is supposed to be doing then you are whitewashing him. But let’s say you make a AU where the point is his personality is different or his upbringing is different, this is not whitewashing, this is having fun. To have an initial subconscious mental bias when it comes to a POC character is different, entirely different.

And about other races… Damian Wayne is one of the few Arab-chinese portrayels in Media, please do not alter this, even if its to make him any other variant of POC. Damian Wayne is Damian Wayne and if that’s not interesting enough for you then use a different character that is that race. <- do not fight me on this.

We as a collective should focus on portaying Damian Wayne. It’s deeper than skin. It’s crazy because its really not that complex…

In conclusion, be mindful of why you were invited to this Damian Wayne function…

[xxknockoutxx]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃.

◉ 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

(Forgive me. It's my first time writing NSFW)

Tw: overstimulation, sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, crying, comfort, mention of positions (vague) and a couple of other things lol.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨

A huge silent room was filled with the sounds of moans and the repeated smacking of the huge bed smacking the wall. "F-fuck... Baby... You're so cute when you're like this.." Followed by the repeated slamming of his hips into you. By the arch your back was making you would assume that it would just break after one more thrust. The entire bed and its frame shook intensely and the room was filled with a vague sweet smell.

At this point your legs gave out already and you were laying on the bed taking it with nothing but a few whines and an intense grip on the pillow in front of you. "T-toru w-wait. I can't-..." He followed this up with a chuckle. "Don't worry just let me take care of you..."

The speed picks up and all you can do is feel. Blinded by your watery eyes, all you can see is a blurry pillow that's drenched in tears. Your poor cervix being hit every single time and repeatedly getting abused by Satoru's huge cock as it thrusts back in you deeper and deeper until... "Limitless!"

The entire mood and atmosphere of the room goes grey as he immediately gets up and checks on you. "Baby, fuck, I'm so sorry are you okay?" You twitch uncontrollably as you keep your face in the pillow trying to recollect yourself. Satoru grabs some water and snacks before coming back to you quickly and gently putting you in his lap.

"fuck... I'm so sorry..." You sniffle and look up at him. "I-its okay.. I was just a little overstimulated" Satoru had a face disgust with himself before you kissed his neck and jawline before leaving a long kiss on his nice red lips. "'s okay baby I know you just felt good..." He looked up at you and put his self disgust aside and grabbed the snacks/candy and shot you a worried "I'm sorry" look.

"Break?"

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨

"Fuck..baby, you look so pretty under me" You squirm under him as the thrust of his cock sends shock through your entire body. You were trapped under him with thighs putting infinite secondhand pressure on your chest while your feet hung over his shoulders.

" 'guru, wait- I... mmph!" Your whines were muffled by 2 long fingers entering your mouth. "Suck" Just then you followed his orders with little hesitation. But the more and more he thrust into your abused cunt the more and more your tears and numbness caught up to you.

The build up to your third orgasm was evident and it wasn't graceful. "S-Suguru!" He responded with a grin and even rougher treatment. "Overstimulated?" He said looking down at you. It was less of a concerned face and tone more of a condescending one. You looked up at him feeling like the pressure inside you was going to burst.

"Curse!" In an instant the reality had set in a few seconds late. He pulled out which made a small 'pop' noise. When he saw you gasping for air and clenching your thighs together. His mood shifted and he left to go fetch a towel. After cleaning up he put you to bed and let you rest after stepping out of the room.

When you woke up you noticed the soreness in your legs and chest was mostly gone and the fact that Suguru wasn't there. Confused, you sent a text asking where we went. "Y/N, sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to go that far. I should've stopped sooner, I'm downstairs right now and I got you food it's on the table I just figured you would want to have time to yourself after that" you could hear the guilt in his texts and that made you feel guilty. "No Suguru it's okay, I'd feel better if I were with you :)" "alright, I'm coming 🩶"

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

What a predicament to be in. Folded like a pretzel in the lap of your husband after a particularly rough day at work which led to the same treatment reflected in your sex life. Two large hands grip your waist and help you navigate up and down his huge shaft with subtle grunts.

"K-Kento-" "Quiet, All I need is another Hour" "that's the thing I don't think I have another hour in me-" A small pause was followed by a grunt. "Then I'll get my hours worth now" Restricting your hands and holding down your waist he thrusts up into you with intense speed.

It made you want to shatter right then and there. A growing feeling of sickness arises inside your stomach. "K-Kento... Wait... please" A giant hand silences your cries and the reoccurring hits on your cervix pushes you over the edge. Tears stream out of your eyes and your tongue sticks out of your mouth. "Overtime!"

His automatic husband mode completely overpowered his angry, tired, and needy personality. He took you off his lap and laid you down. "Honey, I'm so sorry are you alright?" You roll over to go under the covers with a shiver. "I'm fine kento, I just need some rest, please don't worry." Despite the alarm in his face he agreed. But he might use this as a reason for him to take a break from his sex life.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

At this point you're questioning if you're even alive or if you will be alive when you're done with this if you'll ever be done with it. Right now, being rammed into repeatedly, you lay there just thinking about your decisions which is even harder to do when you can't even focus on something as simple as speaking and breathing.

"t-toj-..." The feeling of his cock slapping your pussy over and over again, making you drool. "Heh, y'r putting on a show aren't 'cha?" In return all he got was a mumble and some broken moans. It was evident that you weren't in the right state of mind when being fucked dumb on his thick length.

"t-toji, I- I can't... 's too much..." A low groan and snicker came from toji as lifted you higher and fucked into you faster and harder. The pleasure and pain evident on your face as you both looked at yourselves in the mirror. Sure it wasn't his favorite position but having you in a full Nelson made him experience an excitement deep within him.

"Damn it, Broke Bitch!" You hiss. "Well that was just mean, doll" he looks at you with a half disappointed and confused face and puts you down. Which you immediately fell on the floor, face first because your legs gave up. "Help me, Brokie" "Nah I don't think I wanna after you called me a broke bitch and clocked out early"

"TOJI on everything I love, you not being one of them, if you don't get me off this dirty fuckin floor..." With a sigh and way too much attitude he obliged. "Fine ya big baby" He picks you up and chucks you on the bed. "Clearly you're washed up" your eyebrows furrowed. As you took sight of his boldness "And clearly your broke ass doesn't understand the fact that I pay the bills in this fucking house and if you don't get your shit together you gonna be sleeping with that fuckin cat"

"yes Ma'am" with a smirk you accept the blanket given to you and snuggle in the big velvety sheets. "Thank you, Brokie Toji"

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨

Straddling Choso was always one of your favorite things to do and he likes it too. "F-Fuck Cho! 's so good" "fuck.... Right there, Ma..." As you continue to ride him your legs slowly started to feel more numb. As good as it felt you didn't know how much longer you could bring yourself to doing this.

"Cho' I don't know how much longer I can keep this up" "Come on mama, you're doing so well..." Choso grips your hips tightly and continues to guide you on his cock. Giving you some words of support while doing so. Tears well up in your eyes as your body starts to give out leaving you to just silently cry for release.

Your hips crash down on his cock repeatedly as a nice silky white ring forms at his base. "That's it baby, just a little more...shit.." his grip only intensifies as he speeds up and gets slightly more possessive. "Cho' please, let's take a break!" "What...?" Clearly, he took that the wrong way which caused him to be even more possessive.

He wrapped his arms around you and thrusted faster. "Mine..." Choso was more terrified of you leaving more than anything so anything that sounded remotely close to a break up just broke him. "Blood!" The gears in choso's head stopped turning. He didn't even realize what was happening for around 10 seconds before he realized you used your safe word.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! Y/N, please forgive me!" Your mind was still fuzzy but you were still conscious enough to know that Choso was 2 seconds away from freaking out. "Hey, hey it's okay! I meant let's relax and take a break." You wipe your tears and his forming tears and you two just quietly cuddle and enjoy each other's company."

𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Even though you should be pretty used to overstimulation, this time is particularly worse because it wasn't just overstimulation. this time it was followed by teasing and it wasn't ideal because this time he didn't take it easy.

"c'mon brat, where's that pretty face gone?" Tears stroll down your face and cover your cheeks. Being fucked dumb on Sukuna wasn't knew but when he chose to be in his true form and in front of people, it was quite literally the worse experience ever.

"'Kuna... I can't.. 's too much-" like those pathetic mumbles were to do anything, the only thing happening right now that was different was the fact that he now seemed prouder in a way. Showing you off like a trophy for all of those lower than him to see.

"M-murder!" His eyes widened slightly as he came to a stop. Then they turned into one of boredom. He dismissed everyone before going back to you. "Brat what's the problem?" Trying to catch your breath while crying wasn't easy. It was even harder when he didn't pull out.

"Kuna, can we take a break, please?" You almost stumble over your words while trying to collect yourself. He takes you off his lap and places you on his throne.

"I'll tell Uraume to drop off some towels and clothes for you, when you are ready, come find me". He started to walk away leaving you with his kimono. "You know where to find me."

"thanks, Kuna..."

"...you're welcome Y/N"

✩*⢄⢁✧ ----.・。.・゜✭.・✫・゜.・。.・・.----✧⡠*☆

An: OMG ITS DONE. sorry everyone this isn't my normal writing style and I was also battling with myself about making it more graphic, I don't have a problem with that stuff but I have to get over the ick of writing it out. As for the safe words I didn't have them planned so I just spat out some bullshit. Ngl I actually felt a little weird writing it but y'know I ended up doing it so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ good for me I guess lol.

@smionrileyswifetehe

⏤͟͟͞͞✧𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.

[starshipsofstarlord]

surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

[yawnderu]

Bimbo!reader giving simon a home spa day, like making sure simon looks ABSOLUTELY glamorous everywhere!

bimbo!reader loves having spa days with Simon 😭 she bought a few products for his dry skin, always wanting to help him relax after he comes back home :3

“I said sit down.” You push him back down on the bathtub, forcing him to stay in the water despite the way his fingers are looking like raisins, wrinkling up after almost 30 minutes of being in the water.

“'M gonna melt, angel.” His protest goes ignored much to his amusement, brown eyes fully focused on the way you're working on applying some sort of mask on his hair, despite the way he has a buzz cut.

“You'll live.” You finally reply with a teasing smile, massaging the deep treatment hair mask onto short hair, your long nails softly running along his scalp. He allows himself to fully relax, taking in the smell of the lavender bath bubbles you put in the water, bathroom lights dim to give him the full spa experience.

You carefully wash the treatment off his hair after a few minutes of waiting for it to set in, helping him out of the bathtub and wrapping a towel over his naked torso, a new one going to dry his hair.

Being taken care of and spoiled is something completely new to Simon— the last time was when he was a baby, his mum bathing him and trying to give him a nice experience despite his father's protests about her spending money on what he thought was bullshit, He closes his eyes, placing all his trust on you to take care of him without feeling burdened.

“Now we're gonna do skincare, I got some new products for you that I'm dying to use.” You coo at him, excitedly holding his hand and guiding him back to your bed, helping him lay down on the freshly changed satin sheets.

He watches with amusement as you come back with a pink basket overflowing with skincare products that you bought specifically for him. You sit in bed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss before you start rummaging through the basket, trying to find a product to begin with now that his face is clean from the bath. He's never seen you this focused, the tip of your tongue poking out of your glossy lips. His hand goes to your side on instinct, rubbing up and down soothingly.

“Alright, so we're starting with a mud mask.” You put on your best YouTuber voice, making a small smile to set on his lips at the act. Your hands work carefully, the pads of your fingers gliding along his dry skin, spreading the grey mask all over his face, making sure to avoid applying it on his thin eyebrows and lips.

“Close your eyes.” Not only was he staring into your soul— you also have other plans for his eyes. You go to the skincare fridge in your closet, pulling out a small container with cold, cut slices of cucumber that you prepared the night before.

“Are you gonna kill me?” He asks jokingly, mirth in his tone despite the way he actually closes his eyes, fully trusting you.

“Not yet.” Your playful tone makes him smile, fully aware that it's all a joke. You put the cold slices of cucumber over his eyes, giggling at the way his face scrunches up at the feeling.

“Fuckin' hell.” It feels way too weird— completely new to him. You let the face mask set for a few minutes before cleaning it off with a wet cloth, removing the cucumber slices from over his eyes. The dark bags under his eyes becoming slightly less prominent. You lean down to capture his lips in a kiss that he immediately returns, his hand going up to your waist and running up and down gently, always looking forward to feeling your body.

“Alright, now we're gonna apply some cream.” You spoil me too much, he thinks. A small smile makes way to his lips, happy that he found someone who loves to dote on him this much without ever complaining about it. You're having fun taking care of him, making a little spa out of your shared flat.

Your soft hands massage the product all over his much softer skin, making you realize just how much better his skin has gotten ever since you started doing his skincare months ago. You tap the pads of your fingers on his skin as you get done, making sure the cream gets into his pores well.

“Do this.” You pucker your lips, grinning down at him when he does it back with no hesitation. You apply a small amount of strawberry lip balm all over his thin, chapped lips, proud at seeing the way they become softer.

Who cares if Johnny teases him about becoming a ''pretty boy''? He doesn't have a girlfriend who spoils him, while Simon does. Yeah, shut up, Johnny.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[poisonousrain222]

cold hands.

sandor clegane x lannister!reader

warnings: violence (one slap in the face from ser meryn), joffrey being joffrey, horrible comfort from sandor but it’s kinda a sweet moment

disclaimer: reader is the daughter of tywin. story is written in third-person pov. inspired by that scene in which sandor gives sansa his cloak but pshhht

1.3k words

Slap.

Ser Meryn’s armored glove clanked as it struck her cheek with full force, whipping her head to the side and causing her to stumble.

The girl’s vision blurred and her eyes began to water, as pain radiated through her face and embarassment coursed through her. She mentally fought to keep her composure, determined not to let her humiliation show. She clenched her jaw, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill, even as she felt blood run down her ruined cheek.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, she kept her gaze steady on the ground, refusing to give Joffrey the satisfaction of seeing her break.

“She still doesn’t look very remorseful, don’t you think, Ser Meryn?”, Joffrey taunted, a cruel smirk twisting his features.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for another blow. In her tense focus, she didn’t hear the massive doors of the throne room creak open.

The expected blow never came. Reluctantly, she fluttered her eyelids open.

“What in the Seven gods are you doing?”, a voice boomed through the hall.

The woman turned, a wave of relief washing over her as she recognized the familiar voice. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly and a glimmer of hope sparked in her eyes. Tyrion. Despite the throbbing pain in her cheek, she felt a surge of hope knowing that her brother had arrived, as he strode purposefully towards her, Ser Bronn following closely at his heels.

“First your own lady and now your aunt?”, Tyrion spat, his face contorted with rage. His grey eyes glared at Joffrey, burning with a mix of disgust and fury. “Pray tell, your Grace, what grievous offense has warranted such treatment?” Tyrion’s voice dripped with sarcasm, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the silent knights who stood by, complicit in their inaction.

Joffrey straightened, his chin jutting out defiantly. “She disrespected the king! I have every right to punish insolence as I see fit.”

Tyrion’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Ah yes, the divine right of kings to beat defenseless women. How could I forget?”

He moved closer to stand beside his sister, while keeping his gaze fixed on Joffrey. “Tell me, nephew, does it make you feel powerful? To strike someone who can’t strike back?”

The young king’s face flushed red with anger. “You cannot speak to me like that!”

“I speak to you as someone who should know better”, Tyrion retorted, his voice now low and dangerous. “As someone who is supposed to protect his subjects, not terrorize them. Especially not his own family.”

Joffrey’s face contorted with a mix of fury and confusion, clearly unused to being challenged so directly. His eyes darted between Tyrion and his aunt, searching for a way to reassert his authority. Before he could respond, Tyrion already continued speaking.

“Clegane”, he addressed the Hound, sworn shield of the king. “Escort the lady to her chambers.”

The large man nodded curtly and strode from his position beside the throne, swiftly approaching the woman. He marched past her, his heavy footsteps echoing through the throne room and didn't slow or turn, clearly expecting her to follow without a word. The lady, her head still bowed, hesitated for a moment before falling into step behind him.

The Hound’s pace was brisk, and she found herself having to quicken her steps to keep up with his long strides. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, watching the hem of his cloak sway with each step, too stubborn to look up and meet the curious or shocked gazes of those they passed.

As soon, as the heavy doors fell shut, she noticed his pace slowing ever so slightly.

“You really gotta learn when it’s smarter to just shut your mouth, girl”, he grumbled and glanced at her from over his shoulder. The sight of her was almost pitiful, her bruised face a stark contrast to her usual composed appearance.

Though, this wasn’t the first time she has been ‘disciplined’ for questioning or disrespecting various lords and ladies. It wasn’t well-kept information – everyone knew. The Hound already has been witness of her inability to hold her tongue multiple times and how it had Lord Tywin fuming. One could only imagine she hadn’t been much different in her childhood.

Her eyes lifted slightly, but not quite high enough to meet his face. His brutal honesty shouldn’t be surprising, yet it still caught her off-guard. And she certainly wasn’t in the mood for lectures as of now.

“I will not allow them the satisfaction.” She spoke with unwavering determination, proving once again that her spirit could not be broken so easily.

Quicker than she had expected from a man of his size, he spun around and grabbed hold of her upper arm roughly, his fingers completely closing around it. “Then you’re fucking stupid”, he growled.

Her eyes widened at his unexpected movement and she felt frozen in place, trapped by his grip and the intensity of his stare. Her lips parted to defend herself against his crude insult, but he interrupted her before she could even begin. “If it wasn’t for your brother, the king would’ve had you beaten senseless.”

The smallest flicker of horror flashed across her face, but the Hound betrayed not a single hint of empathy, his features as hard and cold as stone. She blinked and averted her gaze in defiance, frowning at the floor instead. Her chest ached with the urge to cry and scream at him, but an overwhelming exhaustion was consuming her and weighing her down. Her bones felt heavy and every beat of her heart sent waves of pain through her throbbing cheek.

“I shall survive”, she mumbled quietly and attempted to rip her arm out of his grasp – with no success. His strong hand remained effortlessly unmovable. Her gaze snapped up, hard eyes meeting even harder ones.

Instead of answering, he only shook his head in disregard of her obstinance and released her from his grip. The memory of his harsh touch still lingered on her skin.

She expected him to turn away and resume their walk through the halls. Instead, he shot her one last unreadable glance and reached into a pocket beneath his armor. The girl watched with a mix of curiosity and defiance, as he pulled out a washed-out white cloth.

Her gaze, now filled with only confusion, shot back to his face. His eyes didn’t meet hers, as they were fixated on her cheek.

“Don’t move”, he grumbled and brought the cloth up to her face with his overly large hand to dab the blood away, oddly gentle. The proximity made her feel even smaller than usually in his presence.

Her first instinct was to back away, to avoid his touch — yet she didn’t. She obeyed and stayed still, though she didn’t fully understand why. She knew this man to be a cold-blooded murderer, killing gladly and even for his own satisfaction. Yet now, this very same man was cleaning her wound, being even careful not to cause her more pain than neccessary. The hands, which only brought harm and death, were now offering this unexpected gentleness.

It was both perplexing and oddly comforting, it made her feel intrigued in a way she was unfamiliar with.

A sudden sting shot through her face and the girl flinched, to which the Hound only murmured something about her overreacting. His free hand roughly cupped her jawline and turned it to the side to grant him better access to the fresh scratches.

When he deemed his work to be done, he took a step back. His expression was as unwelcoming as always. Before she could thank him, he shoved the cloth into her chest carelessly. “Keep it.”

Without another glance, he swiftly turned around and continued their original way with fast strides, his cloak swaying behind him. The girl, standing dumb-foundedly in the halls for a moment, quickly snapped out of her thoughts and hurried after him.

A man more confusing than him was simply impossible, she thought and looked down at the bloodied piece of fabric in her hands.

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! support content creators <3

[fazalkhan2914]

Domestic greywater system-Rockspringtech Rock Spring Tech is a well-known company that looks after technical solutions like security systems, CCTV, etc. Other than this we provide residential repair service, and commercial repair service to our customers at the best price. We also deal in water products like RO Plants, Filtration systems, Water softeners, etc. so you can look for us. https://www.rockspringtech.com/grey-water-supplier.html

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[piningforstan]

Stay With Me

Summary: Stan needs you to tend to his wounds and, no, you can’t ask him about it.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: some fluff, drinking, smoking, a brief description of the wound

A/N: I just imagine mullet Stan not being able to tend to his wounds properly after his fight with Ford and only trusting you to help him😭 also I’m not a doctor so this is probably medically inaccurate

A knock at the door roused you from your sleep.

Well, more like jolted you awake and sent you into a spiral of fear and panic. You belted your robe and padded down the stairs to peer through the window. A blast of frigid air burst from the door as you wretched it open, snow swirling inside and melting. “Stan?”

“Hey,” he said simply. He weaved on his feet. Under the light of the porch, his face was grey.

“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I’ll, uh, ‘splain later. Can I come in?”

You ushered him in, glancing worriedly out your lawn before shutting the door. Stan’s darkened form lumbered into the kitchen where you followed him, switching on a light. He removed his jacket.

“Stan, what is —?” You choked. From where he sat at the table, back to you, you could see a wound burned into his right shoulder, clearly neglected. “Holy shit.”

With trembling hands, Stan lit up a cigarette.

“Stan, what happened?” You hovered over him, unsure where to start.

“Doesn’t matter,” Stan said quickly. “Can you patch it up?”

“Patch it up? This looks like an infected second degree burn.”

“Is that a no?”

You let his harsh tone slide over you. Not only were you used to it, being a nurse, but you sensed that something was wrong and Stan was badly shaken. Instead of prompting him for answers, you hurried into your medicine cabinet for your first aid kit. You didn’t have half the supplies that you would’ve at the hospital, but you needed to at least disinfect the wound first to prevent infection. The contents of the kit spilled out onto the table as you rummaged through them, cursing under your breath.

A cloud of smoke billowed from Stan. You snatched the cigarette from him and tossed it in a half-empty glass by the sink. “At least let me fix this before you kill yourself with that.”

Stan grumbled a response, but it was half-hearted. You got to work disinfecting the wound and cleaning it up. Stan never once complained, shoulders tensed, wincing only once you applied the disinfectant. Vaguely, in some distant, secretive part of your mind, you admired the feel of muscles reacting beneath your hands, the intimate proximity to him. From your position crouched over Stan, you could make out his profile, his clenched jaw and thousand-yard stare.

You prepared a bandage. A strange design was embedded in the reddened skin, almost like a brand. You’d have to keep an eye on the wound, but hopefully you could stave off the infection.

“When did this happen? You should’ve come straight to me,” you told him. If he didn’t look so obviously pained, you would’ve smacked him upside the head for not seeking treatment sooner.

“S’not a big deal,” Stan mumbled.

Some of the color had returned to his face.

“Stan, yes it is. You could’ve died from the infection.”

“It was just an accident in the lab.” His brave face faltered slightly, a slip of emotion like the silver belly of a fish flashing in dark waters. “I deserved it anyway.”

You frowned. “I doubt that’s true. Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”

“I could use a drink.”

You dug out an old bottle of whiskey that an ex had left behind. He insisted on drinking out of the bottle, knuckles white — shaking, but not as violently as before. You had taken his jacket off the back of the chair and used spare material to stitch it up from the burn. It must’ve been horrible if it burned through the jacket and into his skin so deeply. You watched him sip the whiskey and wince occasionally, not able to completely recline in the chair.

“You should stay here,” you said after who knows how long, both of you content in the silence. Before he could protest you added, “I have a shift tomorrow so I’ll be gone most of the day. But I can keep an eye on you and I know you won’t be doing anything else stupid.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Thanks, kid, but no thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“At least just tonight.“

“Fine. But I’m sleeping on the couch.”

You nodded your approval. After he polished off the bottle and you peeked at his wound again, you got him set up on the couch with pillows and a blanket. He looked small, boy-like, tucked under the covers and looking so vulnerable. Your heart panted. “You’ll be alright?”

“Ain’t gotta worry about me,” Stan replied. The sounds of his snores reverberated through your house before you even hit the stairs.

You awoke to Stan yelling. For the second time that night, or, well, morning, you jolted up and ran down the stairs without even snatching your robe. Bleary eyed and stiff-limbed, you staggered downstairs to find Stan thrashing on the couch, blankets thrown to the floor. He was crying out in his sleep. You knelt down next to him.

“Stan. Stan. Stan!”

It took you shaking his shoulders for him to come to, eyes widened and looking surprised to see you. “What? What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He propped up on one elbow, running a hand through his dark curls. You adamantly kept your gaze from drifting to his chest, partially revealed in the white tank top he had worn to sleep in. “I, uh, been having a lot recently. Did I wake ya?”

“No,” you lied. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

You brought him a water. Sweat sheened his forehead but you suspected it was from the nightmare and not a fever from the infection. Still, you double checked the wound again. Some more pus oozed out along the edges that you cleaned up. It was clear, though, so nothing to worry about. Yet.

You bid him goodnight and moved to leave but felt a large hand grasp your wrist. “Would you, uh, would you mind stayin’?”

Surprised, you turned to him. His expression was so desperate, pleading, that you wordlessly agreed. Stan looked satisfied at this. You sat near his socked feet and pretended to sleep, though there was no way you could now. Not with him so close, so scantily dressed, raw and vulnerable.

It didn’t take long for him to lapse into another nightmare, twitching and muttering. Concerned, you reached over to console him. It was in that moment that he trapped you against his chest, looking for comfort, his heart beating furiously. You stilled. The nightmare slipped away but you were stuck, having fallen between his legs and lying completely on top of him. You did your best to wiggle free but he refused to budge.

Slowly, nervously, you put your head down. Stan, still asleep and unaware of the situation, kept his arms around you. He was big and warm and soft, and you were awfully tired. You reasoned that he needed his sleep, and if staying here meant that he could rest without disturbance, then you would happily fulfill this service for him.

It didn’t matter that you had dreamed of this before, cuddled up next to him, his shallow breaths rustling your hair. That you were overly awake of his hand on your hip, the way that you fit perfectly against him.

No. Nope.

You were just helping him out, like you did with his shoulder. Just helping out a friend.

A friend.

Right?

[lucysarah-c]

~ Holy Ground ch. 1 ~

Summary:

"Alright, get comfortable because this is going to be a long, crappy tale. Join me as we travel down memory lane, back when Erwin wasn't yet a commander, when Mike and Nanaba couldn't keep their hands off each other, when Hange was… well, Hange. And Levi? Well, Levi was a twenty-four-year-old man who didn't give a damn about the rules. Are you ready?"

Warnings: This story contains age gaps, time period misogyny and mentions of homophobia, strong and offensive language, underage sex, alcohol, smoking, implied/referenced of drug use. This is a very slow burn so everyhthing takes a while to happen. Explicit sex content. Virginity, loss of virginity, cheating, mentions of cheating, pregnancy but no by the main character, consensual sex, consensual underage sex, underage kissing.

Pairing: Levi x Reader x Erwin. Levi x Reader are end game. (this is not eruri). This story takes place after ACWNR but BEFORE season 1.

-> Masterlist to all the chapters! <-

Just after Historia's coronation but before the expedition to Wall Maria, this story took place. Everything was coming to an end after a long and exhausting day of duty in the legion. The night had already fallen, and dinner at the mess hall was over. Our lively group of cadets had planned to sneak out after curfew to enjoy their youth. Well, that was the plan IF a certain short black-haired captain didn’t catch wind of it.

The plan was simple: they would all wait in their respective shared rooms and beds until the last superior left the public areas. It wouldn't be too difficult if Sasha and Connie could refrain from cracking jokes, or if Eren and Jean could postpone their petty arguments. They were just a few meters away from the front door, with the gates right in front of them. They were so close that they could already feel the cold autumn air brushing against their faces. However, their intentions and dreams crumbled like water slipping through their fingers when a throat was cleared loudly in the room. Some of them bit their bottom lips and closed their eyes, while others, like Eren and Jean, clenched their teeth, as if bracing for impact. On the other hand, Mikasa, with her usual calm demeanor, turned to confirm her suspicions. Sure enough, Y/N was leaning against the doorframe, holding a cup of tea in her hands. Her arched eyebrow silently questioned the cadets, who knew they better answer soon.

"It's not what it looks like!" Jean was the first to attempt a convincing response but faltered flatly.

"Really? Then what does it look like?" the superior took a sip of her freshly brewed tea and followed up with a verbal question this time.

Armin was next in line to offer an acceptable excuse, but before he could even finish, the woman shook her head with closed eyes.

"Oh, sweet summer child, you can't hold a candle to me," she said with a tired voice, followed by a loud sigh.

The group of teenagers looked at each other, trying to gauge how many hours of punishment awaited them. It wasn't too much to ask, after all! The fair was in town, and wanting to have some fun during one of the few nights when the town came alive in the late hours shouldn't be a crime. Truth be told, they didn't know what their superior could actually do to them. They were accustomed to the captain's cold treatment, but Y/N's? Not really, since she had recently returned to work.

"Well? Are you planning to stand here all night or what? Come on, follow me," the young woman ordered, making her way in the opposite direction of the main door.

Without a doubt, the famous group followed closely behind her. They didn't dare make a sound as they walked in an unknown direction. The clock in the common area struck midnight as the group navigated the halls of the Scouting Legion's building. During their expedition (not precisely outside the walls), the young men in the group couldn't help but notice their superior's revealing outfit. She wore an oversized grey shirt that clearly didn't belong to her, along with a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. She wasn't even wearing shoes, walking through the halls barefoot and without any source of light. It was as if she knew the corridors like the back of her hand. Armin, the clever one of the team, was the first to notice that he had seen that shirt before, and his blue eyes shone with his brand-new discovery. It was (Y/N) who broke the silence.

"Allow me to give you a few tips for next time," she said, walking and turning around to face the team.

"Never try to sneak out through the main door. Why? All the superiors' offices are on the upper floors, and none of them go to sleep so early. Conclusion: you're going to be heard. Second, never wait until everyone is supposed to be asleep. You may think that the darkness of the night will protect you, but it only makes things worse. Next time, try to do it right after dinner. Everybody is still walking around, so it won't be strange if you're out and about. But don't all go together; that's suspicious. Plus, the superiors usually stay a bit longer, chatting about life or whatever."

The 104th promotion was in shock. Since when do the superiors give advice on how to break the rules? However, they were all taking mental notes of this valuable information. Every wise word that came from the woman's lips was pure and solid gold.

"Last but certainly not least," she said as they turned the corner and entered an old storage room for forgotten equipment. "Use a hidden door."

She walked straight toward the stone wall at the end of the room. She moved the old boxes, covered in dust, and muttered to herself, loud enough for the rest to hear, "the fifth brick from the left," then pushed with all her strength. Suddenly, a secret door opened, revealing the cold night sky.

The teenagers were completely overwhelmed to see such an awesome secret hidden behind that old, mossy wall.

"When you want to come back, there's a small leather handle on the other side. Just give it a gentle pull, and you're in. It's as heavy as it looks," she clarified, so the team could return without being seen. "If I were you, I wouldn't do it tonight. Tomorrow, you have an intense practice session with Levi, and you'll regret this. But nothing like the present, right? Come on, let's go! I have better things to do than freeze to death here."

After the last sentence, all of them rushed out in a hurry, except for Armin, who looked at his superior with curiosity. She could easily tell that the blond short kid was her favorite; his wisdom and curiosity reminded her of herself when she was still a little girl.

"Why?" he simply asked.

"Because I was once young too," she replied, crossing her arms on her chest. "And just because I'm having an awful and boring night doesn't mean you have to as well. Go on! Have fun, get drunk, enjoy it while you can."

The group was expecting various resolutions to this outburst of rebellion, but this was certainly not one of them. Of course, they didn't waste any time and went out. While the young ones were having the time of their lives, (Y/N) made her way back to her room with her now cold tea. If someone could have seen her face, they would have noticed that she wasn't the happiest woman wandering around that night.

Lost in her memories, she tried to recall the last time she used that secret door. As she pondered, another memory burst into her mind like a firework: the very first time they had discovered that secret door. A nostalgic smile appeared on her face, resembling that of a mother watching her child play in the backyard.

The voice of experience never seems to fail when it comes to predicting the future, better than any oracle ever created.

"For fuck's sake! What the hell is wrong with all of you today?!" The unmistakable voice of Captain Levi echoed in the training area as his team seemed to be devastated that morning. "What a shitty performance you're all giving today!"

The woman, who was supervising the training, hid her laughing face behind the notebook where she took her notes. The short man turned around to see what was so funny, and she tried to regain her composure in front of him, but failed miserably. The only sounds coming from the cadets were yawns and tired attempts to reply "yes, sir" with enthusiasm.

"Let them go, Levi. They can't even keep their eyes open," she tried to convince the black-haired man.

Not at all pleased, Levi chickled his tongue and rolled his eyes. He knew she was right; training in this state was pointless. However, he wanted nothing more than to kick all those brats' asses for making him waste his time.

"Alright, you shitty brats, get the hell out of the area before I kick each and every one of you so hard that you'll stay awake for an entire week," he pronounced with an irritated tone.

He couldn't even finish his sentence before his team was already making their way back to their rooms. But they weren't the only ones trying to escape from humanity's strongest soldier. The woman gathered her things and attempted to sneak away before he could notice.

"This better be the last damn time you let them sneak out during training days. Am I making myself clear?" Levi turned around and said to the young woman who had been sitting next to him just a few minutes ago.

"Oh, come on, Levi! Let it go this time," she replied, chuckling. "We were young once too."

She tried to ease the tension with a sweet smile, glad that they were talking like usual. However, the look he gave her caused her to lower her gaze with sadness in her eyes. She wondered when everything would go back to normal. She missed him and the warm, small smile that he only had for her.

"It won't happen again, sir," she said, not even attempting to conceal her sorrow as she walked away.

Reader’s pov

The day went without any problems and was relatively peaceful, as peaceful as a day at the scouts can be. We had a little meeting with the remaining superiors. Levi seems to insist on giving me the cold, silent treatment. Last night, I tried to change things a bit, hoping that after nearly six months of chilly nights, he would warm up to me. I even went ahead and offered him a massage, wearing nothing but his shirt. I know how much he likes it. But even the freezing marble floor beneath my bare feet felt warmer than him.

I wonder if this is as difficult for him as it is for me. After enduring his cold treatment, the words slipped out of my lips. I couldn't hold back, I needed to ask him.

"Are we breaking up? Just tell me so I can stop making a fool of myself in front of you. Come on, muster the courage to say it," I said, feeling tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

"Don't shout. You'll wake up the entire legion," he replied without even looking up from his paperwork. "Whether we break up or not, it's not my decision. I'm not the one hiding information here."

As he finished his cold-hearted sentence, I quickly put on the first pair of shorts I could find and ran out of the room. I needed some tea to calm my mind. This was all too much for my weary body. While I was in the kitchen, I overheard Levi's squad attempting to sneak out. Initially, I considered walking away, but I knew Levi would catch them. However, he wouldn't dare intervene if I were with them, not after our little argument in our shared room. So, I made a decision. I helped them out.

And now, here I am. I just took a shower in the common area because Hange's bathroom is dirtier than any titan's mouth. I walk down the corridors, wondering if I'll have to sleep on Hange's sofa once again. My lower abdomen is throbbing with pain. A comforting cup of black tea made by my wonderful boyfriend would be a dream, but dreaming of freedom for humanity seems more realistic than that. On my way, I notice a group of cadets stationed at the watch post outside the building. Among all the scouts, I recognize those faces—it's Levi's team. I bet they're being forced to pull an all-nighter for night watch duty as punishment. Typical.

"Well, well, look at that. Not only do I grant you a free pass, a free morning, but also a night of bonding with friends at the watch post," I say, making my presence known among the group. This causes Jean to spit out the liquid he was drinking, and all of them turn around with pale faces.

"Calm down, guys. I'm not here to punish any of you."

They all let out a collective sigh of relief upon seeing me.

"For a moment, we thought you were a real hard-ass superior," Connie says, chuckling, which surprises me and widens my eyes.

"Excuse me, brat?! What do you mean by 'real superior'?" I ask, irritated by the tone in my voice.

"We didn't mean to offend you! It's just, it's just…" Armin tries his best to salvage the situation after his comrade messes up.

I can't help but burst into laughter as I struggle to sit between Eren and Jean. I clutch my lower abdomen, right where my bandages are. I wonder when the pain will finally subside.

"It's alright, I was just teasing all of you," I say, observing their puzzled expressions as they exchange glances, trying to decipher why I'm here. I wish I knew myself what the hell I'm doing here. But honestly, anything is better than going back to my room and pretending that everything is okay when it's not. "Do you mind if I spend the night with you? As a token of appreciation, you can ask me anything you want."

I enjoy the way their faces change upon hearing the last part, especially Armin. That little blondie's blue eyes gleam with curiosity. But Jean isn't far behind; his expression screams, "I'm going to confirm all the juicy rumors." However, to my surprise, it's neither of them who asks the first question.

"Do you know how to do Captain Levi's spin?! Can you teach me?" Eren enthusiastically shouts the first question.

"I'm afraid I don't, sorry sugar cube," I reply, oblivious to the numerous protocols I've just violated with a single response.

I'm not accustomed to dealing with cadets; my work has never involved interacting with them. I can tell they're taken aback by my pleasant demeanor, especially Eren, whose face turns crimson at my nickname.

"Are you Captain Levi's girlfriend?" Armin's question feels like a stab to my injured heart. Everyone gasps at the question; I suppose they all had their own speculations.

'Right where it hurts, Armin, right where it hurts,' I think, while I try to come up with a realistic reply. Technically, I'm still Levi's girlfriend. ' His freaking five-year-old girlfriend.'

"I am, but I'm guessing you already knew that, didn't you?" I respond with elegance, attempting to sound confident.

Immediately after my reply, the entire group starts bombarding me with question after question. It's as if “Levi's girlfriend” title has opened a door they've all been yearning to enter. I can't help but let out a small laugh at the situation I've gotten myself into. I'm like that bold friend who's been intimate before the rest of the girl group, and now everyone wants to know every detail about the brand-new topic.

"Whoa, calm down, guys! One question at a time," I say, gesturing with my hands for a momentary break.

"Is it true that he was from the Underground and he was a rebel?" Eren once again fires off a question, a quick kid armed with surprisingly accurate information.

"Where did you hear all that?" I inquire before answering, unable to contain my laughter. "It's true, he was quite the rebel when he arrived from the Underground. He even used to wear a black leather jacket during his free days. I must admit, it suited him."

They take a brief moment to process the new information, mouths agape, before the barrage of questions resumes. I do my best to respond to each of them to the best of my ability before Jean asks the one million dollar question you should never ask someone whose personal relationship is falling apart.

"How did you two start dating? He doesn't strike me as the dating type," Jean wants to know the most challenging information that has ever existed.

"Well, it's a long story that goes way back, even before Wall Maria fell," I reply as casually as possible. "And trust me, none of you wants to hear it."

"I do!" is the only thing I hear amidst that chilly autumn night. I know I shouldn't because it's not just my story; it's Levi's too, and I know how reserved he is about his private life. But I'm heartbroken and nostalgic, surrounded by a group of teenagers. Nothing good could happen tonight, so…

"Alright, get comfortable because this is going to be a long, crappy tale. Join me as we travel down memory lane, back when Erwin wasn't yet a commander, when Mike and Nanaba couldn't keep their hands off each other, when Hange was… well, Hange. And Levi? Well, Levi was a twenty-four-year-old man who didn't give a damn about the rules. Are you ready?"

Author's Note: This was the very first long fic I ever decided to write, and it's the reason I opened a Tumblr account back in the day. I deleted the chapters here because it felt like nobody was reading it, and I decided to focus my account on other things. Now that I'm rewriting the old chapters to finally finish the last five of a story spanning over 40 chapters, I've decided to give it a second chance and post it again!

I'll be posting all the new chapters every Friday! The banner was made by me, and the little "dividers" I add have a purpose—haha! The story advances through Levi's entire first year as a scout, so we'll go through all the seasons, starting in autumn. I don't usually ask for much, but Holy Ground has always been my baby, and if you guys decide to give it a try, I'll be forever grateful. <3

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!