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#Is Cat Spray Visible
reyl0ct · 5 months
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Edwin: Don't touch me, I'm armed!
The Cat King: *smirks* oh really? Did you forget i'm a magical being? Your weapons won't work on me.
Edwin: *pulls out a spray bottle full of water*
The Cat King: .... *visibly nervous*
Edwin: ....
The Cat King: ... Now now, let's just put the weapon down and- and just talk this through-
Edwin: *sprays him*
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3lyvshiro · 1 year
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𐙚 ⋆₊˚ 2:53 ..ᐟ
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Suna Rintaro affectionately and unironically calls his grumpy, cold (,and apparently bitchy) girlfriend "sunshine". Even when she's the most standoffish, difficult person you'd ever interact with. he wholeheartedly believes that she is a little bundle of joy, and talks about her like shes an absolute angel to whoever asks.
for instance.
"Theres my girl. shes a little ball of sunshine, isnt she?" rin would say, talking about his girlfriend to a friend of his, with a finger pointed to her by the distance. said girl looking like a feral cat trying to keep a civilized conversation with one of his fangirls.
"morning, sunshine." rin would mutter, approaching his girlfriends desk as the scowl that was etched on her face immediately faded into a soft smile, only ever directed at rin. as she comes up to him and tightly hugs his torso, she nuzzled her face on his neck and catches a smell of his uniforms collar. freshly sprayed cologne. it was that masculine smelling brand that he knew was her favorite on him. she got on her tip toes to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek as he smiled down at her, a big hand on her waist as he patted her head gently.
"hey sunshine" rin would greet, leaning his weight on his girlfriends locker beside his while kissing her head and slipping his hand on her waist, despite her crossed arms and the massive scowl on her features prior to when he approached. he could only assume that something or someone pissed her off...again. upon seeing the look on her face and her obvious frustration, he'd cradle her cheeks with his two big hands to guide her to look at him. and, with the softest voice ever, only for her, he'd coo, "bad day, sweetheart?" while kissing away the heavy scrunch on her brow and caressing her cheek. he could tell from the way she would visibly soften, that she's turned to putty on his hands, once again. he was the only person who could have such an effect on her. at her lack of resistance when it came to him, rin couldn't control the upper quirk of his lips as he smiled softly at her. but before he could bask in the joy of a happy girlfriend once more(happy girlfriend =happy life), said girlfriend furrowed her brows once again. with a red face, she pulled away from rin only to pull on his bicep to keep him close to her as she walked them onto the other side of the hallway, to the cafeteria. She would never admit it, but rin always knew how to calm her down and make her go all soft for him. Yeah, she could be a grump sometimes, but he liked that about her, despite his friends teasing him for his dynamic with his grumpy girlfriend, always commenting about the contrast in how she treats everyone else compared to how she treats him.
something about how he gets special treatment from 'the ice queen' just because he's her boyfriend. in fact, whenever rins friends would catch a girl confessing to him. they always barge in and invite themselves in the conversation only to comment how "you have ta be as cold as y/n to even catch sunarins interest".
later in practice, rin finds himself bringing up how "n/n isnt cold." with the most serious face ever. and with almost everyone strongly disagreeing, he would add, "she can be a grump sometimes, but she isnt an ice queen." i mean, he knew she wasnt exactly the nicest person alive, or the easiest to get along with, but saying she was an ice queen was a bit of a stretch. atleast to him. thats why when atsumu shudders and weakly shares his own encounters and past interactions with the girl, of how difficult it was to get along with her, rin could only scoff in disbelief. "how is she difficult to approach? that must be a you problem because she's literally a ray of sunshine." rin would defend, not catching the sudden dull and stiff tension in the air that enveloped the club room. glancing at his teammates, who all suddenly looked gravely pale, he turned to osamu, who only let out a low whistle as he turned his head to the side. "if y/n's a ray of sunshine, kitas the laziest person in this room." atsumu would speak for everyone, since no one had the guts to say a word, too afraid it would reach sunarins icy girlfriends ears. his statement followed up through by a series of "yup"s, "yeah"s, and overall agreements. rin raises a brow, genuinely confused.
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roanniom · 1 year
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Just saw a video of jason momoa casually taking a scrunchie of his hand and tie his hair and while he dit it his shirt rode up and ughhh I'm thinking just hanging out w eddie and he does that like nothing and r mind just *blanks* *head empty just impure thots*
Ohhhhh anon.
Playing
Best friend!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
You know me and Eddie’s slutty little waist. I’m imagining you’re Eddie’s best friend, but that you’re actually the one who out-raunches him. Like you’re always cat calling him when he does that or slapping him on the ass when he bends down.
He always rolls his eyes and gives you his middle finger but then one day, as he’s putting his hair up and your eyes hone in on his exposed happy trail like clockwork, corners of your mouth curling lasciviously, Eddie snaps.
“You gonna actually put some bite behind that bark? Huh?” His eyebrow is raised in a challenge and your eyes widen.
“I didn’t say any—,”
“Save it, sweetheart,” he interrupts you with a roll of his eyes. “You’re always saying something. You’re always fucking with me.”
You let out a snort in response.
“I don’t dish anything you can’t take. Anything you don’t throw right back at me,” you challenge. Eddie’s face darkens.
“I don’t play with you the way you play with me.”
You get up and saunter over to his fridge to grab a beer.
“Alright, Eds. Whatever you say…”
As you grab the bottle, Eddie’s beside you, slamming the fridge door closed and pushing you up against it. You look up at him in surprise, your free hand flying to curl around his bicep.
“What the fuck are you—?”
Eddie plucks the beer from your hand, reaching over and cracking it against the counter edge so the cap goes flying. You feel a little chill from the spray of beer that comes from the aggressive action but your eyes don’t leave his face. He takes a deep gulp, allowing your eyes to take in the heavy swallow visible in his throat. Finishing the gulp, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before placing it at your waist.
“I’m doing what you literally did to me. On Friday.”
Shit. He’s right and you know it. You’d been slightly less aggressive with it, of course, but you had indeed pushed him up against the fridge and taken his beer from him. Going so far as to slip your finger into the band of his boxers where they peaked out from his jeans.
You had laughed at the way he’d frozen. You’d flounced back to the couch, not thinking twice about it.
But being on the other side of the same action had floored you. Eddie is right. He never played with you as intensely as you play with him. Feeling him large and heavy against you this time makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, your chest rising and falling as you watch him take another sip of beer.
You blink up at him dumbly. Eddie decides he likes this version of you. In spite of himself, he does love your bratty, antagonistic side of course, but this? Having you quiet and wide eyed and clinging to him? He’d happily take more of it.
Eddie leans forward till his cold lips are pressed to your ear, blowing hot air with every breath.
“Just what I thought. No bite.” After he says it, his teeth close gently around your ear lobe, sucking it into his mouth and making your entire body shiver. When he pulls away to look at you, you still say nothing and he chuckles. “Not even any bark this time, princess? Shame.”
He turns on his heel to return to the couch, fully at his leisure. Leaving you still reeling and leaning against the fridge trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.
~*~
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hotteoki · 9 months
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ateez in the multiverse ?!
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pairing: ot8 x reader (no prns used)
genre: fluff, crack, drabble
cw: mentions of weaponry in seonghwa's, minor injury in san's and mentions of alcohol but no consuming in wooyoung's
wc: 2k in total
notes: ik some of these are longer than the others but that's cause they were meant to be an actual fic until i lost inspo to continue it :c
extra: ty @daesukiii and @pyeonghongrie for beta reading!
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barista!hongjoong
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hongjoong is a barista, yes. one at a cat cafe, to be specific. he finishes preparing your drink, just the way you like it, and walks around the counter to personally deliver it to you. he spots you at your usual table in the corner, petting one of the cats perched on your lap. as he makes his way over to you with, one hand holding a slice of cake and the other holding your drink, he glances around the cafe. it’s relatively empty today, only one customer sitting at the other side of the cafe immersed in whatever is on his computer and hongjoong’s co-workers all mingling in the kitchen.
he sets your plates on the table, bending down to coo at the cat before pressing a quick but soft kiss on the tip of your nose. “joongie, i didn’t pay for this,” you give him a look, gesturing at the cake. he places a kiss on your forehead and beaming down at you, “on the house, honey.” he ignores your disapproving look and only continues petting the cat.
spy!seonghwa
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you lay flat down on a rooftop, eyes peering through the optic sight of your sniper, waiting patiently for your target to step near his apartment window for you to take your shot. there’s shuffling every now and then through your microphone from your boss pacing around his office in agitation, and though it distracts you a little, you decide not to tell him. 
someone clears their throat behind you, and you immediately spin your head around, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife in your belt pocket. upon laying your eyes on the person’s steely eyes, you move your microphone closer to your mouth, “your rival’s best sniper is here too.” your boss groans aloud, “get him away and do your mission!” he cuts off the microphone in irritation, yet you know him well enough that he would come back on in a few minutes. 
seonghwa perches beside you with his own sniper, preparing it while attempting to start small talk with you, “hey, my love.” you scrunch your nose at his words, continuing to look through your optic sight while replying to him, “don’t call me that.” you can practically hear the pout in his voice without looking up as he whines your name. “why not?” he raises a hand to caress your cheek softly with the pad of his thumb. you finally move to glare at him, revelling in the way his figure shrinks back away from you in fear, “you hoarded the blanket last night! i was freezing my ass off!” 
seonghwa stares at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a short laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your cheek, “is that why you were all grumpy this morning? ah, well, i’m sorry, baby.” you frown at him, “you’re cooking dinner tonight. all my favourite dishes.” he caresses your cheek once again with his soft touch, “anything for my love.”
officer!yunho
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you slink into an alleyway, marvelling at the empty wall in front of you. you pull the phone to check the time, you calculate how long you have left until you have to meet your blind date your friend so kindly set you up with. nodding to yourself after noting down the 20 minutes you have to spare, you unzip your tattered gym bag, beginning to pick out a series of colours to choose from. you settle on a mixture of white, pink and red, shaking the bottles and beginning to spray on the empty wall.
you’re nearly finished until you hear a loud ‘oi, you!’ at the end of the alleyway, only his silhouette visible to you. you freeze in your tracks, raising both your hands up, waiting for the man to make the next move. as the shadowy figure steps closer, you begin to make out his handsome features. a streetlight unveils his face mid way and your heart skips a beat. you’ve just laid eyes on the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. yet as the officer walks even closer, your instincts kick in. you drop the empty spray cans on the ground and swing your bag over your shoulder, making a run for it. 
you hear a loud police whistle behind you, calling you to stop. you ignore his commands, moving from one alleyway to another until the footsteps can’t be heard anymore. you check the time again, realising you had a few minutes left before your reservation. cursing underneath your breath, you step out of the hoodie and joggers you had on, grateful you wore your formal clothes underneath, shoving the comfortable clothing into the zip bag and throwing it in an empty cardboard box nearby. you make a note to come back and collect it later. 
you rush into the restaurant, following the server to one of the tables by the corner, sitting down at the seat opposite your date and apologising frantically for being late. when you hear him clear his throat, you lift your head up from your small bow, eyes widening and heart dropping at the sight of the police officer chasing you mere minutes ago with a glare on his face. “well shit.”
florist!yeosang
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the familiar ring of the doorbell echoes around your aunt’s floral shop as you step in, the familiar aroma of flowers hitting your nose almost immediately. your eyes land on your aunt’s sole employee, yeosang, who was arranging a bouquet on the working table before he lifts his head up to welcome you. “hey yeosang, how are you?” his smile widens, the constant pink on his cheeks reddening, “good, good… um, your aunt’s upstairs.” you nod, sending him a grateful smile as you move around him towards the staircase. 
he calls out your name quickly, catching your attention. when you turn around to face him again, yeosang is holding a small bouquet consisting of white and pink roses, along with a few hydrangea decorating them. he avoids your eyes and mumbles quietly, “your secret admirer stopped by to give this to you again.” you smile softly, taking the bouquet from him; you already know yeosang is your admirer from the first time he wrote a note tagged on it and you recognised the familiar scrawl of his handwriting. 
you take it from his hands gingerly, “well, thank you. i’ll be sure to thank him.” you step closer, daring yourself to land a kiss on his flushed cheek, murmuring a “thank you” against his hot skin, turning around and leaving him standing in shock. 
boxer!san
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you sit on his lap clutching several wipes in hand, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before getting to work. san smiles as you dab the cut on his cheek carefully, unable to look at your worried face clearly from his swollen black eye, yet knowing you’re trying to hold back your tears upon seeing him hurt. he tightens his grip on your waist as an attempt to make you look at him, which you comply. 
he flashes you another smile, speaking softly while bringing both hands up to cup your cheeks, caressing your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, “c’mon baby, you promised me you wouldn’t cry if i won.” you let out a sniffle, placing your hands on top of his large ones, stammering out, “i’m not crying.” san lets out a short laugh as your tears betray your words, rolling down and wetting his fingers. he nuzzles his nose with yours, chuckling at your quiet giggle, “how ‘bout we go get something to eat, hm? i’m starving.” 
guitarist!mingi
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mingi sits on a stool, securing the chains you picked out earlier on his wrist, before putting on a few rings his bandmates gifted him for his birthday. he hesitates for a few seconds, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, holding up his ring-adorned hand for you to see, “you think this looks good, baby?” you let out a hum from behind him, tying his dyed hair into a half-up and stepping back to admire your handiwork with a smile, “what?” 
mingi waves his hand once to catch your attention, “how does this look?” you step around to stand in front of him, taking his hand and moving his rings around his fingers, mumbling under your breath about how he has no style. he lets out an offended gasp, interlocking his fingers with yours and tugging you closer to him, glaring up at you with a pout, “i have style.” you give him a sarcastic nod, “mhm.” 
a small whine elicits from him, pulling you closer to straddle his lap, grazing his lips over yours and muttering, “apologise, or i’m gonna be thinking about this all night. i’ll get distracted and the gig will be ruined. then hongjoong’s gonna tell me off for it and i’ll get sad. do you want that to happen to your cute boyfriend?” you roll your eyes at him, squeezing his hands, “you’re right. i’m sorry, min. you do have style, even better than mine, in fact, you big baby.” he gives you a satisfied grin at your words, kissing you gently.
frat boy!wooyoung
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you swallow thickly, finding the loud booming in your ears unbelievably uncomfortable. you move to the kitchen where the drinks were, pouring a huge amount of alcohol in your red solo cup, raising it to your lips. the liquid barely touches your mouth until it’s pulled away from your hold and placed on the kitchen island counter. you look up at the culprit and can’t help but smile sheepishly at wooyoung as he gives you a frown, kissing your lips once. “why are you drinking, baby? you don’t like to drink.”
you look away from him, breathing deeply, “just thought i’d enjoy myself a little.” he stares at you blankly, leaning closer to you, speaking just loudly enough for you to hear his words, “i can always tell when you lie, baby.” you exhale through your nose, reluctantly answering him, “i’m not feeling very well.” he cups your cheeks with both his hands, thumb running over your cheekbones, “well, why didn’t you just say so?” you shrug, “i didn’t want the birthday boy’s night to be ruined by something so silly.” wooyoung gives you a stern look, shaking his head and clutching your hands, “you’re a hundred times more important than some stupid party, even if it’s mine. c’mon, let’s go get some fresh air outside.” 
model!jongho
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you stand near the corner of the room, watching jongho move around in different poses to show off the extravagant clothes he's wearing from afar. the photoshoot soon ends and you move towards him, his coffee cup outstretched for him to hold. he takes it with a bright smile, rubbing your shoulder gratefully, “thank you.” you grin at the happiness radiating off of him, shaking your head, “it’s nothing. you go change out of your clothes, i’ll wait for you outside.”
“no,” he lets out a small whine, pulling you by your hand with his free one, lips forming into a tiny pout, “come to my dressing room with me.” you laugh a little at his antics, “jjongs, it’s only going to be a few minutes.” his pout grows, his grip on your hand tightening, “that’s a few minutes i could’ve spent with you.” “you’re like a giant, clingy teddy bear, gosh.” jongho sends you a gummy smile, “your giant, clingy teddy bear.” you can’t help but find him cringing at his own words absolutely adorable, finally nodding and giving in to his words, “lead the way then, bear.”
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networks: @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films @pirateeznet
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Three for One 9
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: No more work but we gonna werk.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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Ransom pushes you back, slipping free from between your tits. He catches you by the back of the neck as he grabs his dick, pumping himself as he groans. You brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as his voice gets louder.
He finishes in hot spurts string across your face that make your skin crawl. You scrunch your nose as the chlorine-like smell tinges your nose. Your entire body threatens to revolt. It’s more than the act itself, it’s the humiliation.
He sighs and lets you go. You want to wipe your face off but you can’t bear to touch it. You lean back on your heels and hover your hand in front of you, trying to breath through the swell of nausea. A hand clasps around your wrist, tugging it away as you’re dragged back towards the tree. You stumble on your knees, flicking your lashes as the sticky glaze cools on your skin.
“Next,” Lloyd insists as a growl rises from behind you.
“Be nice,” Andy girds. His words mean nothing. He could stop this but he won’t. He won’t because he’s just like them. He wants this.
“Please, I don’t want–”
“I didn’t want a face full of Gucci garbage,” Lloyd bends over you with a snicker, “too fucking bad, isn’t it?”
You wince and lean away from him. Your first meeting flashes in your mind. You recall a similar state, being sprayed in the face unceremoniously. You shudder as he lets you go, a small shove on the back of your head.
You extend your arm as Ransom’s soft groans continue between mellowing breaths. This is deranged. These men are twisted and, as pathetic as they are, terrifying. You grab a small box from the pile and shakily lean back.
Lloyd hovers behind you as you sense the gazes of the others. You have no hope. Whoever it is doesn’t matter. You slide the bow off and tear the paper away. Your hands work on instinct as you try to prepare yourself, try to shut down any emotion.
You shake as you reveal a strangely curved piece of pink silicone visible through the transparent window of the box. Lloyd chuckles and bends to take the disposed bow from beside you. He looks at the tag. 
“Well, well, well, looks like I’m up, but you know what, pussy cat,” he looms over you, “that one’s for you. I got it fully charged so why don’t you pop that in?”
You turn and look at him from the corner of your eye, not straight on. You consider the box again and the toy. It’s one of those hands free vibrators designed for couples. The woman wears it as the man controls it.  The box buzzes and you drop it. It stops when it hits the floor.
You gasp and look above you as Lloyd has his phone in hand, “you’re getting off easy. Literally.” He smirks down at you, “what’s the matter, you need help?”
You gulp and shake your head, “n-no.”
You swipe up the box, picking open the cardboard box and slides out the plastic insert. The little instruction pamphlet is missing, confirming that he’s already gone in and opened it. You roll the toy in your hand, the flimsier part wobbling back and forth.
You lower your head and raise yourself on your knees. You pull the elastic of your panties as you angle the toy down the front. You bite down as you widen your legs, pushing your ass out as you lean forward slightly. It’s awkward as the men elicit snarling noises in response.
You find yourself wet. That startles you. It eases the insertion as the full part glides into you and settles snugly inside. You fix the curved stem and rest the little round nub against your clit. With your hand still down your panties, the toy vibes, just once and makes you squeak.
“Works,” Lloyd snorts.
You quiver and inhale, tenderly sitting back on your heels as you grip your thighs. Your eyes sting. You won’t cry. 
“Next,” Lloyd demands before the silence can sink in. 
He nudges you with his velvet loafer and you flinch. You shuffle on your knees again and grab a gift bag. The men behind you shift eagerly. You don’t even open the present and just read the tag. Fuck.
“Lloyd,” you croak.
“Ha,” Lloyd claps, “luck’s on my side,” he taunts, “looks like fate wants me to fuck that throat.”
“The present…” Andy suggests.
“Yeah, whatever,” Lloyd spins on his heel and struts away, sitting at the edge of the couch, “open it then get your butt over here, sweet stuff.”
You shake your head and reach into the gift bag. You pull out a medallion necklace set into the red box. It has diamonds encrusted around the edge. You know it’s not cheap.
“You can put that on too,” Lloyd sneers as you hear his zipper slice through the tension.
You pull free the necklace and hook it around your neck. You push the packaging away and fall forward onto your hands. You can barely keep yourself moving as your mind hazes. The surrealness threatens to paralyse you.
You turn and crawl across the carpet.
“Mmm, yeah, pussy cat, come to me,” Lloyd teases.
You ignore the scalding wave that flows over you. You try to block out the room, the watching eyes, and the man who orders you around like an animal. The animal you crawl around like. 
You approach him as he pulls his dick out above his parents, knees wide as he gives a crooked grin. He lets his hard length flop back against his stomach as he sits back and bends his arm behind his head. He winks and looks down as he bites his lip.
“I think I owe you a taste, pussy cat,” he says, “Merry Christmas to me.”
You lift yourself up. Ransom’s silhouette moves in your peripheral as the armchair creaks out of your sight. The twitch of Lloyd’s dick makes your stomach curdle as he proudly repeats the trick. You put your hand around him and close your eyes, inching closer.
Your lips stop just over the tip of his dick. His hard, thick length bulges in your grip. You press your mouth to him and swallow back another tide of revulsion. You want it over with but given the amount of presents waiting under the tree, it might never end.
You open up to him slowly, coaxing yourself through the act. The salty trick that smears on your tongue threatens to flip your insides. You squeeze him and he groans, slapping the cushion beside him.
“Fuck, the grip on her,” he rasps and your eyes flick open.
His hand slides down as you urge your mouth down halfway, then back again. You’re not sure you can take all of him. He retrieves his phone from beside him. A sudden rumble awakens inside of you. The toy rattles you completely as you nearly choke.
Your teeth graze him and you still, trying to set yourself straight, dangling on your worst intentions. You could sink right in and listen to him scream. He swats the side of your head and ramps up the vibe.
“You fucking bite me and I promise you’ll be sorry,” he growls. You believe him. You’re not just being good for yourself but in that moment, you have to focus on you.
You push back down, your reflex threatening to trigger. Back up and you take a breath. The vibrator shakes you, adding to the torment, splitting you between pleasure and disgust. You slide back down and a weight spreads across your skull. Lloyd pushes you until you gag around him. He groans as your throat constricts.
“Mmm, you’re getting close, aren’t you?” He purrs, guiding your rhythm as he fists your hair. “I’m not feeding you ‘til you cum.”
Your eyes round and you let them roll back and close as they wet. You focus on your breath, not what you’re doing, not what you’re feeling. His hand slows your motion on him as you squeeze your legs together. The pulse intensifies, the small nub against your clit stirring your nerves. Come on, come on, almost there.
You moan, once, twice, again. Your body starts to quiver, you can’t help it. Even as he laughs, even as he rams you back down on his dick and nearly suffocates you. You’re swept up in the swirl of sensations.
Your body spasms as your orgasm flows over. You drool down his dick as he pulls you back then forces you back down. Fuck, it shouldn’t feel good. You hate it but the release is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The release of pressure leaks out of your, soaking your thighs as you keep them taut.
“Oh fuck, you like tasting me,” he purrs, “hm, you want more? Huh?’
You’re weak as he uses you, rocking your head as he grips it between his large hands. The wet noises of your mouth deafen you as you taste his anticipation. Feel it throbbing in him.
He grunts and slips a hand down to cradle his sack. You groan as he stills you, thrusting from below again as he leans his shoulders back into the couch. He fucks your mouth as he lets out a long rumble, cumming down your throat as he quakes. 
He keeps going until your mouth is sloppy and your saliva mingles with his cum as it smears around your lips. He pulls you off him and you cough, covering your mouth as you spit up into it. He purrs and sways his leg in bliss as he rubs his chest.
“Fuck,” he growls as he looks down at himself and you blink away the haze, “these are designer.”
The fabric around the open fly of his pants is wet with your excess. You wipe your mouth, the filth across your face and pasty in your throat once more sickening you. Reality seeps back in as your head lolls and the tree lights blur in your vision.
“Next…” Andy prompts in a hoarse mutter.
You lean back until you fall onto your ass. You’re dizzy. You don’t know how much more you can take. Ransom gets up and you watch him snatch up two presents from under the tree. He drops them into your lap.
“Let’s turn things up,” Ransom declares as he stands over you, pants hanging slack from his hips.
You can hardly think. You just look down and set to opening the presents; another pair of earrings; rose gold hoops, and a bracelet with pearls. The tags tangle together and you read the names in a shaky squeak; Lloyd, Ransom. A long sigh from the armchair.
“Let’s start with these,” Lloyd pushes your shoulder so you fall onto your hands. He grabs your hips and lifts them, tearing your panties down your thighs. “I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.”
You’re guided around senselessly by the pair. Lloyd gets down on his back, a couch pillow under his head as he brings you down to straddle him. He moves the stem of the toy to the crease of your leg and slides his tongue between your folds. The vibrator continues to buzz as he adds to the overwhelming thrum.
Ransom pulls off his woolly sweater, tossing it onto the couch before he nears. He grabs your chin and forces your head up. His dick hangs out of his pants, limp but subtly twitching.
“Tell you what, you don’t even have to get me off,” he snickers, “just get me going.”
He mashes your face into his crotch. You open your mouth and your spit leaks out onto his soft dick. You reach for him, moving his tip between your lips. Your tongue works thoughtlessly, mimicking the one on your clit, swirling and flicking as weak moans escape you.
Ransom hardens in your grip, little by little until you can get a firm grasp. You suck on his tip until he purrs. Lloyd wiggles his head under you, pulling your down by his hips as he laps and a suckles. 
Your hips buck as your climax takes over. You cum again, heart racing, breath hitching as your head spins. Every muscle aches as your lungs burn. You don’t know if you can keep up. The thought that this is only the beginning is enough to exhaust you.
There’s a rustle beyond your purview. Your eyes search but you can’t see past Ransom. A shadow appears at your side. Andy stands over you and rips wrapping paper away from a box. He shows you the Coach gift set, the same one you sold him. 
“Me,” he proclaims, voice edged with frustration.
“That’s cheating,” Ransom puffs out as he frames your head between his hands.
“I don’t fucking care,” Andy snarls and snatches your hand, bringing it up to the front of his pants. Lloyd chuckles into your cunt from below. 
Another zipper descends and your hand encircles thick flesh. Hard veins press into your palm as your arm is pumped, a tight grip on your wrist. You shut your eyes and dissolve into the madness of the moment.
The heat of their bodies storms around you, roiling with that radiating off of you. Your throat turns raw from the rampant intrusion, your cunt pulses with overstimulation, and your hand chafes on the hard dry flesh. All control slips beyond you as the men take over, each guiding you to their whim.
Your gulping, gagging moans rise into the air, lost amid their groans and grunts. Hands pawing at you, hips rocking, mouths moving. Bodies tangle together in the throes of depravity, dissembling the last of your reticence, trapping you in a helpless apathy.
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jean-meowreau · 1 month
Text
So it's not a question that Jean was tortured in the nest. and I'm damn sure he would have been waterboarded at least once, if not regularly.
I kinda want to see him struggling with cleaning himself. He's so used to using a sponge and a bucket of water in the shower. Standing at the far end, farthest away from the shower head, and cleaning himself that way. It's always a quick endeavor; being that close to a water spout puts him on edge. And it's not a secret to Jeremy, Cat, and Laila - Jean only does a quick rinse in the showers in the locker rooms, taking the one that has a removable wand, and never letting it get it near his face. He showers at home and washes his hair at home. They never see him with wet hair. He disappears for the rest of the evening when he cleans his hair. He locks Jeremy out of the bedroom for at least four hours, and then is stoic and silent and not even making his usual snarky comments when he finally lets him in for the evening. But Jean will always grab Bark Bark after those times and set the cardboard cut out he claims to despise right against the head of his bed, and he falls asleep looking at Bark Bark's face.
Jeremy finally gets the nerve to ask Kevin, and he quietly explains that Jean would get waterboarded sometimes as punishment. For menial issues. If The Master decided a beating wasn't enough, he had Riko and Kevin hold Jean to a chair as he was punished.
Jeremy doesn't speak to Kevin for a while after that. He knows, realistically, Kevin couldn't do anything where he was - it would've ended with both of them being waterboarded or worse. But the anger he feels, that Jean went through all of that alone, without support, and had to have someone he loves part of the process... so he starts researching hydrophobia. They change out the shower head to be a wand, with an extra long hose, so Jean can put it outside of the shower when he's cleaning himself. Jeremy hangs back from practices with Jean an extra thirty minutes so when they head into the locker rooms the shower Jean prefers is free without a doubt. He makes sure to always be within his line of sight while he's showering, hands visible and towel free.
And then one day Jean very quietly asks Jeremy for help washing his hair. "It will be quicker if you do the water. Please." His breath is caught in his throat as he steps into the half-stall, takes the wand, and waits for instructions. Jean bends forward, his shoulders shaking, but there is already shampoo in his hands. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and then whispers for Jeremy to do it.
He freezes up, just for a moment, before saying, "I'm going to touch you, Jean." He waits for the younger man to nod before setting a hand against his shoulder. He taps touches along the shape of his head before biting his lip as he rests the side of his hand against Jean's brow line. "Are you sure you want to go this way? Bending backwards would keep it off your face."
"Less exposed," is all Jean replies, his voice quiet, trying not to let it waver.
Jeremy makes a sound of understanding and uses the hand holding the wand to grab the knob. "It's away from your face. I'm going to turn the water on." Jean nods once, one hand reaching to take hold of Jeremy's wrist closest. He flinches slightly at the sound of the water and squeezes Jeremy's wrist a little tighter. They stay like that, listening to the water hit the tile wall before trickling down the drain. They wait, Jeremy waits, until Jean lets go of his wrist and lets out a long breath.
"Ready?"
Jean nods.
Jeremy brings the wand around and lets the water hit his shoulder before he quickly brings it around and sprays across Jean's hair. He uses his hand against Jean's forehead to try and block water from falling in his eyes. Three quick passes, and his hair is soaked. Jeremy turns off the water briefly as Jean quickly scrubs the shampoo into his hair. He holds his hands out in front, and Jeremy turns the water on. He rises Jean's hands before going back to his hair.
"Please help," Jean asks softly.
Jeremy steps in a bit closer and pulls his hand from Jean's forehead. "Cover your eyes." He waits for the younger man to comply before running the wand side to side in quick stripes, combing his hand through dark hair, easily coaxing out the shampoo. Once his hair is clean, Jeremy turns off the water and combs both hands through, squeezing any excess from Jean's hair. "No towel, right?"
"No towel," Jean confirms. He stands to his full height once Jeremy has finished, and blinks a few times. He is breathing a bit rapidly still, but his shoulders and hands aren't shaking like they normally are.
Jeremy offers him an encouraging smile. "You did great."
"I have been working on it. I want to be part of the team. I want to have conversations after practice in the locker room. I enjoy everyone's jokes," Jean says quietly. He seems to be warring with his next question, so Jeremy waits him out. He strips down, out of his damp gear, and starts his own shower. Jean leans against the tile wall, still sharing the space despite the flow of water. Jeremy feels something close to pride blooming in his chest at Jean's improvement in just under a year since being with them. "Jeremy?"
"Yeah?"
"Would you be comfortable to help me wash my hair like that every time?"
The blond looks up, water hitting his face, but nothing can stop his grin. "Anything you need, J."
"It won't make you feel awkward?"
"Not at all."
Jean nods and then quietly asks, "Would you be able to help me request to always be able to use this shower? Just until I improve more. I know Nabil prefers it."
"I know he'd be happy to help you, especially if it means a chance at Jean bonding time," Jeremy says with a smile as he rinses the shampoo from his hair. "Do you want to ask him with me there, or would you like for me to ask?"
Jean falls quiet once again, mulling it over and staring at his feet. Jeremy leaves him to his thoughts, running a loofah across his skin, enjoying the gentle friction, the barely there scratches.
"Would it be okay for you to ask but me be there?"
Jeremy blinks away the fogginess, the comfort of the shower and the relaxation the mindless tasks bring him. He nods once, and then frowns. Jean doesn't get to experience this. The comfort of water pounding against skin, the feeling of it cleaning away literal and figurative grime clinging to his body. He doesn't get to enjoy those little tremors of the first trickles of water against his scalp, electricity pinging down his spine, water quick to follow its path. The comfort of a shower, of cleaning himself and stepping out fully refreshed. "Jean?"
"Yes, Jeremy?"
"I'm going to help you as much as I can. Whatever you want or need, I will do it. Even if it means washing you by hand myself. I want you to be able to enjoy showers."
There's a long pause before Jean speaks again. Jeremy doesn't mind; he uses that time to rinse the soap from himself. When he shuts off the water, Jean finally speaks once more.
"I am jealous of how you look after you bathe. Your smile is softer and your eyes sparkle, you are always so relaxed and comfortable. I want that."
Jeremy nods. "I want that for you, too. Let's work on it, yeah? First, though, we've got to change and get outside for the barbecue. Cat is going to kick the door in soon if we take any longer."
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potatoqueenpal · 1 month
Text
Yall I'm SO SORRY for dipping on you I have no ideas and I'm still fighting to get my avior fic back.
Have filler till I think of more angst
I present to you: Shaw Pack and Mates: Incorrect quotes
Sam, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?
Sweetheart : Bold of you to assume I was born at all.
Baabe: I personally was created in a lab.
Angel: I just straight up spawned.
Sam: We call that a traumatic experience.
Sam, turning to Baabe: Not a "bruh moment".
Sam, turning to Angel: Not "sadge".
Sam, turning to Sweetheart : And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".
Asher: Knock, knock.
Baabe: Who's there?
Asher: Boo!
Baabe: Boo who?
Asher: Why are you crying?
Baabe: I'm not crying.
Asher: Hello notcrying, I'm Asher.
Milo: Angel, you look deep in thought. What’s wrong?
Angel: Did you know you can look at any object and know what it’s like to lick it? Even if you’ve never touched it before?
Milo: I’m never asking you anything ever again.
David: There's nothing worse than people using big words they don't understand.
Milo: I photosynthesize with this.
Sweetheart: I’m this close to falling in love with Milo.
Asher: Your fingertips are touching.
Sweetheart: Exactly.
Asher, spraying a melted cutting board with a tiny water gun: We gotta cool this bitch down. Cool it down.
Sweetheart : I actually just put the cutting board in the oven...
Baabe, visibly confused: Okay, so they decided to put the cutting board in the oven?
Asher, spraying Sweetheart : You FUCKING DUMBASS!
Sweetheart : Dude, I forgot-
Asher: OH MY FUCKING GOD! We're trying to make Chicken Alfredo right now, and you fucking MELT the cutting board in the oven at 400 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT!?
Sam: *Watching in complete confusion while trying to process this whole situation.*
Asher: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity?
David, turning to Darlin': How tall are you?
Angel: Sam said its my turn with the brain cell.
Asher: Square up.
Sam: And what do we say when someone refuses your offer?
Sweetheart : Suck it, boomer!
Sam: I don't know who "Boomer" is, but no.
Asher: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths.
Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.
Baabe: I think my guardian angel drinks.
David: How did none of you hear what I just said?!
Milo: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.
Asher: I got distracted halfway through.
Darlin': Ignoring you was a conscious decision.
Asher: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived!
Sam: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, Asher?
Asher: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market-
*police sirens start to wail in the background*
Sam: DID YOU ROB A BANK?!
Asher: Oh, come on, Sam, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face*
Sam:
Asher: …it was a credit union.
Angel: Tell them to eat shit, David.
David: Tell them yourself.
Angel: Eat shit, asshole. Fall of your horse.
Milo, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?
Darlin': Yeah, sure.
*A few minutes later*
Darlin': Here you go.
Milo:
Darlin':
Baabe: Why am I here?
Angel: Guess what I'm about to get!
David: On my nerves.
Sweetheart : That's a nice arguement, Milo Why don't you back it up with a source?
Milo: My source is that I made it the fuck up!
Sam: Aww, what's your cat's name?
Milo: Aggro.
Sam, yelling to Baabe: TRY AGGRO!
Baabe, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK!
Milo:
Sam: What's your favorite number?
Angel: I’m so jetlagged I can’t even regrender my chorf.
*Everyone stares at Angel*
Angel: I don’t even know what I was trying to say.
Angel: I've connected the two dots.
David: You didn't connect shit.
Angel: I've connected them.
And now, wholesome (amd flirty) ship incoreect quotes:
。・゚゚・  ・゚゚・。。・゚゚・  ・゚゚・。。・゚゚・  ・゚゚・。。・
David : Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?
Angel: It was autocorrect.
David : Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?
Angel: Yes.
Angel: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.
David : I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.
Angel: I said within reason, David . How about I murder that guy?
David : So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?
Angel: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?
Angel: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?
David : I have a gun on that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.
Angel: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?
David : Nope, there's 26.
Angel: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.
David : Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.
Angel: So give me the D.
Angel: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?
David : ...Have you never taken a shower before?
David, sweating: Angel, there’s something I need to ask you-
Angel: Finally! You’re proposing!
David: How’d you know?
Angel: David, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
Angel: I even picked it up once.
David: I want to kiss you.
Angel, not paying attention: What?
David: I said if you die, I wont miss you.
Baabe: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.
Asher: Wow. They sound stupid.
Baabe: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.
Asher: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”
Baabe: I guess you’re right. Hey Asher, I love you.
Asher: See! Just say that!
Baabe: Holy fucking shit.
Asher: If that flies over their head then, sorry Baabe, but they're too dumb for you.
Baabe: Asher.
Baabe: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.
Asher: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?
Baabe: Seize the dick.
Asher: We have a problem.
Baabe: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.
Baabe: I'm trash.
Asher: As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you?
Baabe:
Baabe: You smooth motherfucker.
Baabe: And yes it does.
Asher: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.
Baabe: Hi, I’m ‘things’.
Asher: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-
Baabe: I wrote you a poem.
Asher, already crying: You did?
Milo: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.
Sweetheart : If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.
Milo: I fell—
Sweetheart : From heaven?
Milo: No, I literally fell—
Sweetheart : In love with me the moment you saw me?
Milo: MY ARM IS BROKEN!
Sweetheart : Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.
Milo: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?
Sweetheart : AS ENEMIES?!
Milo:
Milo walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Sweetheart , I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.
Sweetheart , sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)
Sweetheart : I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.
Milo: That's great, Sweetheart . Especially considering the fact we've been together for 6 fucking years.
Sweetheart : I’m in love with you.
Milo: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.
Sweetheart : I know.
Milo: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-
Sweetheart: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.
Milo: What- how?
Sweetheart: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”
Milo: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Sweetheart is? Because Sweetheart is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.
Sam: The stars are so beautiful...
Darlin': They're just giant balls of gas.
Sam: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-
Darlin': And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.
Sam: Oh...
Darlin': Wow, Sam, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.
Sam: We literally slept together yesterday.
Darlin': That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.
Sam: I love you.
Darlin', not paying attention: What was that?
Sam: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-
Darlin': Well, Sam and I finally did it!
The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*
Darlin': That's right... We kissed!
Darlin': What are you in the mood for?
Sam: World domination.
Darlin': That's a bit ambitious.
Sam: You are my world.
Darlin': Aww...
Sam:
Darlin':
Sam:
Darlin': OH.
Darlin': I have feelings for you.
Sam: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?
Waiter: What would you like?
Darlin': Bring a milkshake with two straws.
Sam: *blushes*
Darlin': *puts both straws in their mouth* Watch how fast I can drink this!!
Darlin': You got a date yet Sam?
Sam: No...
Darlin': Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!
Darlin': Are we fighting or flirting?
Sam: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-
Darlin': Your point?
Darlin': I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.
Sam: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.
Darlin': O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??
Sam: Is it working?
Sam: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?
Darlin': …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out in bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?
Sam: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.
Darlin': Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.
Darlin': Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.
Sam: Marry me.
Darlin': This date is boring!
Sam: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.
Darlin': Then why did you invite me?
Sam: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Sam I'll do whatever I want!
(This is long as fuuuuck and took me a good hour, but it was fun)
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syoish-aot · 2 months
Text
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"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 7)
eren/reader
reincarnation & memory loss
rating: M (16+)
cw: canon-typical & internalized xenophobia, disassociating
word count: 2061
<- CH 6
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“Mr. Kruger?”
“Um- …yeah.”
You scowl.
Mr. Kruger looks over at you. “What?”
“Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?”
“Get uncomfortable when I say your name.”
“It’s-” his cheeks flush pink. You’re not used to them doing that because in the real world they don't; but here, in this dream you find yourself trapped in, things are different.
Mr. Kruger is different.
“Is it because that’s not your name here?” You ask him. “I can call you by your other name if you want.”
He shifts uncomfortably on the couch next to you and you can’t help but want to tease him, just a bit. He’s so easy to tease here and it’s fun. You lean in closer.
He freezes as your hand rests against his arm. As your chest brushes his shoulder. As your lips tickle the shell of his ear:
“Eren.”
His cheeks burn an even deeper red. It makes you think about thedifferences between this dream and reality. 
Everything is so much quieter here. The city is still loud, of course, but there’s a peace to it. A peace that you never find in Liberio. 
The food here is better. There’s more flavor and more food in general because nothing is rationed.
There’s no war. No pain. No suffering. And no red spray paint against brick walls.
And then there’s Mr. Kruger.
Eren.
He looks the same (although he’s got both eyes and legs). With the same long hair (although he normally ties it up instead of letting it hang down) and the same facial features (although his skin is less rough, with fewer scars and no tired bags under his eyes). He’s the same height. Basic build. And has the same blue-green eyes that reveal golden flecks of stars when the light hits them just right. But…
Mr. Kruger smiles here. He smiles and he laughs and he plays with the cats while he tells you about his friends. 
He was alive in Liberio in the sense that he was breathing, eating, moving around and going through the motions of life. But here, in this beautiful vivid peaceful dream, here Mr. Kruger is able to live.
And there’s a difference, you suppose. A difference between living and being alive.
Maybe that’s what made them different people, despite all of their similarities.
There was something depressingly poetic about the whole thing, but you didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about it right now.
“Mr. Kruger.” You say and he visibly relaxes. You follow up with: “I’m hungry.” 
Mr. Kruger shoots off the couch and darts into the kitchen without another word.
You smiled to yourself as you watched it, reminded of another difference between this beautiful peaceful dream and reality.
He might look like him, sort of, but at the end of the day Eren wasn’t Mr. Kruger at all.
Mr. Kruger had no idea how to cook.
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“I made you a cake, obviously.” You tell Mr. Kruger in answer to his question, as you begin to rebandage his head.
“What kind of cake?” He asks.
“Hmm… strawberry.”
He grimaces.
“Chocolate?”
He shrugs.
You stop bandaging. “You like vanilla?”
“I don’t like flavors that are too strong.”
You scoff.
“Hey,” he protests, “it’s my birthday.”
You smile as you continue to bandage his head. “Alright fine, I made vanilla then,” as you expertly wrap and tuck the bandages, you continue to ramble about the made-up birthday party you would throw him in your head. Describing it in vivid detail, as if it was real. 
As if it was in front of you instead of the palace in your head.
You imagine Mr. Kruger’s hand brushing against the back of yours as you hand him a slice of cake.
But you don’t tell him about that part of the fantasy.
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“I would wear… a blue dress. Oh! And one of those big floppy hats to keep the sun out of my face!”
You’re helping him across the courtyard. He’s sore from an intense session of physical therapy and needs more than just his crutch to get around.
Mr. Kruger grunts as you lower him to his favourite bench where he said he was meeting his friend. 
“Do you sunburn easily?” He asks.
“Yes. All the time.”
He lets out a short huff of amusement as his eyes trail your face. “I bet you skip tan and go right to red.”
Your cheeks burn as he says it.
In your head, you’re potting hanging baskets of pretty red flowers on the balcony. In your head, it’s not just his eyes that trail your cheeks. In your head, his hand reaches up to brush against them too.
Again, you don’t tell him about that part of the fantasy.
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“Chamomile.” Mr. Kruger says softly as you hand him his paper cup and his three pills. You already slipped the green one into your pocket.
You blink away the tears that have started to well up in your eyes.
“That’s the kind of tea I’d bring you.” Mr. Kruger says. “It’s relaxing.”
You always get this way on the anniversary of his death. You weren’t supposed to be sad though. He was a traitor, so you were supposed to be happy he was dead.
But you weren’t.
You take in a shaky breath. “Would you… Would you sit with me while I drink it?”
“Yes.” Mr. Kruger takes his medicine.
You imagine the couch. The tea.
You imagine letting your head fall to his shoulder and your eyes slipping closed as Mr. Kruger describes the chipped cup he’d hand you, and the cat that would be asleep in your lap.
Once you were finished with your tea, he’d take the empty cup from you. He’d place it on the table and then wrap his arm around you so you could tuck yourself against his chest. He would rub your back as you cried. As he let you cry. 
When you were done, he’d kiss the top of your head while you drifted off to sleep.
Like usual, you don’t tell Mr. Kruger that last part.
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The house grows more vivid. More detailed. More wonderful and into a more perfect escape with little pieces of you and little pieces of Mr. Kruger as well.
Paintings. Souvenirs. A collection of different mugs and teacups because you can’t help constantly buying new ones.
It becomes more than just your home.
It becomes his home too.
“What would you do?” Mr. Kruger asks. 
It was well into the evening and several hours past the end of your shift. You should have gone home ages ago, but instead, you were sitting in his hospital bed next to him- so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his shoulder.
But you weren’t touching.
Never touching.
The few centimetres between the two of you are as close as you’ll be able to get in reality.
Thankfully, you’re not in reality right now. Instead, you’re swept up in the fantasy of your small, safe home. You're somewhere that’s nice. 
“I would read a book on the couch,” you answer. “What would you do?”
“Sit next to you,” he says. “The cats won't leave me alone.”
You laugh. “It’s because you ignore them. Cats like that, you know. They like it when you play hard to get.”
“Maybe I should play harder.” 
“It’ll only make them like you more.”
The corners of his lips just barely lift into a smile, but they drop again a moment later.
A silence passes over you as you sink into the moment. You’re staring at the wall across from you, but the hospital room isn’t what surrounds you.
Not really.
What surrounds you is framed photos. Plants. A warm couch and the smell of a homemade dinner wafting in from the kitchen. There are people in the streets below. People at peace, because there isn’t any war here. No pain. No suffering at all.
There are only things that are nice.
Nothing else is allowed.
It’s just you and Mr. Kruger.
You lean against him.
But you don’t-...
You take a short breath.
You’re normally confident when you talk to Mr. Kruger about the nice place in your head, but right now that confidence is fading. It’s fading because you can imagine doing it, but you’ve never let those thoughts be known like you let all the others. But what if you did? Just this once. What if you…
“I’d move closer to you...” you tell him, just above a whisper, “...so our arms could touch.”
You can imagine it so perfectly. The brush of his arm against yours. If you leaned over, even just slightly, you’d feel it. But that’s reality.
You’re not in reality right now. You’re somewhere nice.
You take a short breath: “And I’d-”
“I’d hold your hand.” Mr. Kruger cuts you off, “...I bet it’s soft.”
Your fingers twitch against your lap. They curl together and you imagine the sensation of his hand replacing one of yours. 
“I-...” you stutter, “...yours is too…”
It’s warm. 
Not just his hand, but everything else. The house. The couch. The life. The people on the street below you. The cat in your lap. Mr. Kruger sitting beside you.
It’s warm. It’s soft. It’s comfortable. It’s perfect. The most wonderful escape. The most amazing dream. You wish it was real, you do, but at the same time you hope somewhere like that never slips into reality because you know if it did it would become tainted. 
Reality is thick ropes. Flesh. Bone. Red words against brick walls. Reality takes the tiniest spark of something pure, of something good, and turns it into a nightmare.
Somewhere nice couldn’t possibly be real. That warm, soft, comfortable, perfect place would be ruined if it was.
So you don’t want it to be real. Not at all. You never want it to be real. If it was real it wouldn’t be perfect.
If it was real, you could never-
“...I’d kiss you...”
You can see it, so vividly, just like the couch and the food and the chipped tea cups.
You see Mr. Kruger right next to you. Holding your hand. You see yourself pull back, just enough that you can meet his blue-green eyes. Your own eyes flick down, just for one second, to his lips, and when you glance up he looks different.
His bandages are gone and he’s got both eyes and legs. His long hair is tied up instead of hanging down. His skin is less rough, with fewer scars and no tired bags under his eyes. He’s the same. He’s the same height. Basic build. And has the same blue-green eyes that reveal golden flecks of stars when the light hits them just right. But…
He’s smiling.
He’s smiling and laughing and talking to you so much faster and louder than he normally does he’s--
He’s alive.
And there’s a difference, you suddenly realize, a difference between living and being alive.
Without a second thought, you lean forward.
You kiss him, cutting off whatever he had been rambling about in favour of sinking into the feeling of his warm lips against yours.
Warm.
Just like the rest of the wonderful dream.
You’d spent the last few weeks describing a lot of your fantasies to Mr. Kruger, but there were still things you kept to yourself. Stolen glances. Soft touches. Feelings that you couldn’t admit to, not even in the fantasy.
But then you’d gone and said it:
‘I’d kiss you.’ You had told him, only a fraction of a second ago without taking a moment to think it over. 
And you aren’t given a moment, not really, because the image of it happening flashes through your mind so quickly, and in that time, Mr. Kruger makes his reply.
He takes in a short breath. His body completely motionless next to you.
He’s looking out the window.
“...I’d kiss you too…” he says, his eyes never leaving the line of the horizon.
He lifts a hand to cup your cheek and kisses you back, pulling you against him on the couch.
The scratchy couch.
The warm world.
The perfect fantasy where you’ll never live - but for once in your life you can be alive.
You stare at the blank, depressing hospital wall.
You should go home.
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((I'm getting a bit of burnout with this fic, and some comments on your thoughts so far would go a long way in terms of igniting that spark. So please let me know what you think so far <3 thank you guys for reading!!))
60 notes · View notes
cowpokeomens · 10 months
Text
Blood Pact
It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.
Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!
________________________________________________________
You still couldn’t believe you were doing this. 
Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact. 
Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.
It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok. 
It hadn’t.
You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink. 
Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.
Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it. 
“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.
You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.
You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again. 
“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”
You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen. 
Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…
Were those Converse?
You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”
He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”
Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”
He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”
You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”
“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”
“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.
He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”
You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”
“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.
You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”
“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.
Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.
He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”
You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”
An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”
You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?” 
He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”
“I’m a virgin.” You blurted. 
He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”
Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.
He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea. 
Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”
“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”
You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”
He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”
Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”
Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at- 
Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly. 
Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”
“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”
You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth. 
“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”
“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.
He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.” 
Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if. 
Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”
Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”
_________________________________________________________
Six Months Later 
You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower. 
That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him. 
Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.
As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion. 
Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.
“I knew you’d be loud.” 
Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain. 
Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.
“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you. 
“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”
He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”
Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”
He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.” 
Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”
An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”
You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”
The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”
You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.” 
He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands. 
Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.
He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”
“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer. 
Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?” 
He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.
He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.” 
There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone. 
You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine. 
______________________________________________________
Three Months Later
Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark. 
Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.
Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working. 
So maybe this would. 
You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly. 
“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.
There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp. 
“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?” 
You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”
Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”
“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing. 
He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”
“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”
Your hands shook, but you felt-
Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt. 
Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.
“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident. 
He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”
You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.
He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”
Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.
His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”
You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”
His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours. 
Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously. 
“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”
You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”
He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”
“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately. 
He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”
You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”
“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.
“Um-” You hesitated. 
“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.
“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.
“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.
“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense. 
“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”
You nodded. “Yes, sir.” 
Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.” 
His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact. 
“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.” 
You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper. 
He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”
You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices. 
He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”
“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin. 
He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.
The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic. 
“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you. 
Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed. 
“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets. 
 You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”
“Fuck me.” You demanded. 
His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”
You lost all your bravado. “Please?”
He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”
You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”
“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”
Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said. 
“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him. 
He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”
He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”
Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you. 
“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly. 
You nodded. “Okay.”
He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.
“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.
You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”
“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct. 
You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though. 
He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”
You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”
You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in. 
“Doing okay?”
“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.
He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.
Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.
“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.
“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.
“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.
“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.
“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing. 
“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.
He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you. 
You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible. 
Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch. 
“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you. 
He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”
He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.
“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.
“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.
“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”
He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.
“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.
174 notes · View notes
afeelgoodblog · 1 year
Text
The Best News of Last Week - April 3, 2023
Kentucky Legalizes Medical Marijuana in Bipartisan Vote After Decade of Failed Attempts
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The state of Kentucky has legalized the use of medical marijuana. The bill received final passage on Thursday. Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear signed it into law Friday morning after a decade of failed attempts in the state legislature.
The news makes Kentucky at least the 38th state in the U.S. to legalize medical marijuana.
Now Indiana is surrounded by weed states. The encirclement is complete 😂
2. The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act
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The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act — a bill that just a year ago disappeared from the chamber’s agenda ahead of a floor vote.
The bill would require Maryland Medicaid, beginning on Jan. 1, 2024, to provide coverage for additional gender-affirming treatments, which are currently disallowed in the state’s plan but commonly covered by private insurance. The expanded treatments include hormone therapy, hair alteration, voice therapy, physical alterations to the body, and fertility preservation.
3. FDA approves over-the-counter Narcan. Here's what it means
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The approved nasal spray is the best-known form of naloxone. It can reverse overdoses of opioids, including street drugs such as heroin and fentanyl and prescription versions including oxycodone.
Making naloxone available more widely is seen as a key strategy to control the nationwide overdose crisis. Effects begin within two minutes when given intravenously, and within five minutes when injected into a muscle. The medicine can also be administered by spraying it into a person's nose.
4. Boston expands tuition-free community college program to all residents
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Boston has expanded its tuition-free community college program to include all city residents regardless of age, income or immigration status.
Starting this fall, any city resident will be eligible to pursue an associate’s degree or certificate at one of six partnering local institutions without paying to attend. The program also includes a $250 stipend for incidental expenses each semester for up to three years, and up to $2,500 of debt relief for students whose account balances are keeping them from re-enrolling.
5. First cheetah cubs born in India since extinction 70 years ago
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India has welcomed the birth of four cheetah cubs - more than 70 years after the animals were declared officially extinct there.India's environment minister announced the good news, calling it a "momentous event".
The country has been trying to reintroduce the big cats for decades, and last year brought eight cheetahs over from Namibia as part of the plan. Another 12 cheetahs were brought to India from South Africa last month.
6. BBC education show in Afghanistan helps children banned from school
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The BBC has launched a new education programme for children in Afghanistan who are banned from school.It is aimed at children aged 11 to 16, including girls whose secondary education has been stopped by the ruling Taliban.
The weekly programme is called Dars, which means lesson in Dari and Pashto, Afghanistan's official languages. It is hosted by BBC Afghan female journalists who were evacuated from Kabul during the 2021 Taliban takeover.
Each new weekly half-hour episode of Dars will air four times a day, Saturday to Friday, on the newly launched BBC News Afghanistan channel.
7. A Trans Creator Has Raised Over 1.5 Million for Trans Healthcare on TikTok Live
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Transgender TikTokers are celebrating Trans Day of Visibility by raising over $1.5 million for gender-affirming care around the world.
Mercury Stardust — a DIY TikToker and trans advocate who calls herself the “Trans Handy Ma’am” — raised $120,000 last year in a livestream for the mutual aid nonprofit Point of Pride, which maintains funds for surgeries, hormone therapy, and free binders and gaffs. This year, Stardust and cohost Jory, a.k.a. AlluringSkull, set themselves a goal of raising $1 million in a planned 30-hour live stream…and then smashed that milestone less than six hours after starting the stream Thursday evening.
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I have started a Youtube channel with wholesome videos I can find on the internet. Check it out :)
That's it for this week :)
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what wld lovesick pav and gaya be like w a s/o who tries to be like, healthy in their relationship? like they're not the "i wanna get away bc this is unhealthy" type, but the "i will actively tie you both down and make you communicate your feelings and wants in a healthy way until we can all reach a mutual agreement" way
like the two reach the stage where they don't want their love to leave the house at all- but they kinda quickly shut that down and are like "nuh uh. i have a life, so either we talk it out and find something that works for me and you two or i stay out five minutes past the curfew you set just to make you squirm"
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩
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Cw: poly!reader x lovesick! Pavitr Prabhakar x lovesick!Gayatri Singh, explicit talk about mental health
Notes: all I can think about is the reader spraying then with a water bottle like a poorly behaved cat
>You went out of the apartment to get the grocery shopping done, your partners had been behaving oddly, they were always very affectionate and loved being around you, but lately you feel like they have been neglecting their personal life in order to be together
>You left the house when they were taking a nap, you didn't feel like you were sneaking out, just that you were doing chores while they slept
>You think about this as you examine the red apples deciding if you should buy them or not
>Your phone vibrates and you answer to a preoccupied Pavitr, you apologize for not telling them, but you didn't want to disturb them, when you're about to hang up, he hits you with "just wait, we're on our way"
>You're a little confused and annoyed by having to wait for them at the market without being able to continue the list of home necessities, but you tried to be understanding, and thought that maybe when you got home, you could start a conversation about what you've been thinking the whole afternoon
>When they arrived, the outing went smoothly, and happily, like you're used to
>After you finished organizing everything on the shelves and pantry, you started the conversation in a pretty straight forward manner, you didn't want to dance around the subject and talk about issues like they're anything aside a from a completely normal part of every relationship
>You said you wanted to talk, and they were visibly nervous, however, complied
>"So I've been noticing that you don't want to leave the house, and that you get really upset when I do leave, and it concerns me, I won't force you, but I'm your partner too, I'm here for both of you."
>I think these two would be one of the easiest characters to pull into therapy and get them to work through their issues, something that's surprising considering they would never accept this if you were dating individually
>The challenge here is definitely Pavitr, because like I've said a million times already, he's extremely delusional
>So it'll be hard to even make him realize there's an issue with his obsession, also you'll need to reassure him that you're not rejecting his feelings, but rather just want to work through a more positive and healthy way of expressing and processing those feelings
>"But I love you, why don't you love me too?"
>"Of course I do, Pav, but love isn't supposed to hurt"
>Gayatri has a more clear vision of where these issues stem from and will be more cooperative with communication with time
>At first she's closed to the idea, but when she sees how much you care and that you genuinely want to help her, she lets her guard down
>If you respond positively and don't show signs of fear or disgust when she tells you about her feelings, you get to hear, the most gruesome parts, but far from scared, you're proud she feels safe to verbalize and recognize toxic behavior
>I think Pavitr would use mindfulness as a coping strategy for the yandere tendencies, and Gayatri would turn to writing
>Some of Gayatri's pieces are morbid, sure, but it's better than having her do it, you praise the effort
>Sometimes they still relapse and snap at you or get too possessive, but you're having none of it
>You set clear boundaries and as hard as that is, they understand that they'll lose your trust and love if they are unwilling to be better
>I think there's a solid 8/10 chance of fixing them
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copperbadge · 11 months
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[ID: Three images; top left, a spray bottle of clear liquid, labeled PRO SPRAY, sits on a gleaming cutting board; top right, Dearborn the tortie glares at the camera from the work desk's copilot basket. Bottom, a white rug with blue patterning in my hallway, surrounded at the edges by dark dustbunny-looking lumps.]
NaClYoHo Day Two! Pardon my grossness.
Yesterday afternoon I did the first of what is usually several trips to the hardware store; I bought spackle, gnat traps, and a PROFESSIONAL spray bottle. PRO SPRAY. It has an adjustable nozzle and measurement marks on the side, so I can dilute the vinegar pretty accurately. Last night I filled it up with vinegar water and laminated the kitchen, and this morning found and killed several weevils it drove out of hiding. It's sitting on the wooden cutting board because I had taken ALL the cleaning supplies out from under the sink and was reminded I should oil my cutting board with some Walrus Oil.
Dearborn is very skeptical about this morning's activity: carpet cleaning.
I threw on an episode of A Date With Dateline, popped in my earbuds, took down my Tineco One X vac and vacuumed for the first time in Slightly Too Long. I didn't get all the way through the house because I was running it on high which drains the battery, but usually vacuuming is a multi-day process. For what I paid for the Tineco I could have a high-end corded vac that does a better job, but I know that I won't use corded vacs because I hate the cord, so I'm okay vacuuming more often with the cordless. In any case, I hit the rugs because the next step was to break out the Hoover Powerdash Pet carpet cleaner and figure out how to use it.
I know I'm dropping a lot of brand names but just because I usually get asked; I don't make money from affiliate links or anything.
Anyway, the Powerdash came to me secondhand from friends who were moving, and for a long time it sat in my hallway in its plastic wrapping because I was intimidated by it. We never had one growing up and I've never really seen one in use. But it turned out that it was super easy to use, you just add water and cleaner to the tank and go; you go over the rug once with the trigger down, to spread water/cleaner, then a second time without the trigger to rinse/dry. I only hit about half of the rugs in my home, just to see how it went, and then stopped because they all seemed to remain very wet after cleaning. (They've since pretty much dried and I'm assured by the internet that's normal.)
The white patterned carpet above is the cats' favorite place to roll around and shed on, and as you can see, those dark dustbunny looking things around the carpet? That's cat hair and other dirt the cleaner pulled up. Gross but visibly effective.
I got a slightly late start so I had myself on a hard time limit; I started at 7, finished up at 8, and still had half an hour left on A Date With Dateline (they sometimes run a bit long). The cleaning solution definitely adds a certain chemical smell to the air, so I'm running the HVAC's fan and I've added "scented candle or incense" to the shopping list. Which I wanted to do anyway; some people always have such nice smelling houses and scent never seems to stick around in mine, but I've never gone hardcore on Making This Place Smell Nice. (Yes, I promise to be careful about what scents I use, I know diffused scents can harm cats.)
Disposable nitrile glove count: Still just 1!
Hardware store trips: 1.....so far.
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quitealotofsodapop · 8 months
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More assorted canon-compliant LMK hcs:
In addition to Pigsy being *passionate* about food culture; he despises food waste. Like, those tiktoks with the gross, wasteful "food hacks"? Instantly raise his blood pressure. He also has banned all instant noodles from the premises. MK got grounded once for hiding cup noodles in his room.
Tang hides snacks in his changpao/clothes like he's storing them away for winter. You shake this man and candy, oranges, and packets of jerky are gonna fall out of him like a pinata. His gut reaction to seeing someone crying/upset is to unpeel an orange and hand it to them, since fruit calmed MK down when he was little.
Tang wears his changpao/long tunic cus he wore it one time for a history class and he uh... liked it too much to return it. It's like a super-long hoodie, he found it so comforting that he never turned back.
In addition, the tank top Tang wears under his tunic was made around the time Pigsy first started selling noodles. Tang and Sandy came up with a few mock-up logo designs for Pigsy's food truck and the tank top was a concept for a "uniform". Pigsy begrudingly used the design for his business until a certain muddy toddler drew the logo seen today. Tang still treasures the tank top tho.
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Pretty much confirmed, but MK created the logo for Pigsy's Noodles - hence the signature on the sign and why he was so adamant on getting it back from Spider Queen. More specifically, it was one of his *first* ever drawings. Pigsy was convinced the kid was scared of him somehow, with all the silent staring he did in the first few days. Then toddler MK waddled up to Pigsy one afternoon, happily showing off his drawing of a smiling pig holding a bowl of noodles. Pigsy cried. It's also how he learned MK's name.
Despite being pretty good at cooking learned recipes, MK is terrible when he experiments with food. His first few culinary creations made the "esteemed critics" (aka Tang and Pigsy) visibly ill for days. He had a MasterChef phase as a pre-teen that took years off of Pigsy's life.
Sandy is in a group chat for people looking for/willing to pet sit. Whenever the gang needs to go on a big adventure, Sandy organises stuff with his group to take care of his foster cats while he's away/is using the boat. He in turn pet sits for them in exchange for the occassional hot meal and change.
The "secret HQ" in Sandy's boat is still there. The MKrew just forgot about it. Sandy has re-taken the space to act as an isolation room for strays. He's not sure if Mei still has trackers in her friends.
Mei's dad bought her a bunch of the flashy tech and vehicles in the HQ as a birthday gift after she told him that her and MK were going to be superheroes together. He's a big nerd at heart.
Sun Wukong had the crate of Ginseng Fruit Babies cus he tried contacting Five Village Abbey to try another fruit, only for some commotion to cause a bunch of them to dislodge early - the "unripe" fruit fell and became little fruit fairies/yao. Zhenyuan was so mad that he made SWK deal with it. After Mo "babysat" them in "Pig Pong Panic", SWK managed to send the Ginseng Fruit Babies up to the Celestial Realm, where they now live blessing/terrorizing the imperial orchard (and being adored by their adoptive seven orchard fairy mothers).
Speedy Panda is it's own brand of convenience stores with a range of microwaveable meals (think 7/11 or Meiyijia). Jin and Yin bought a bunch of locations in Metropolis as part of their plan to demoralise MK. They have since been ousted for wasting company funds on the Food Wars incident. Pigsy is still pissed off at the delivery drivers for physically assaulting his employee/son.
After being attacked by the Speedy Panda drivers the first time, Pigsy gave MK a bottle of pepper spray as a safety precaution. No matter that his boy is super-powered, he's a worried dad deep down.
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exnoiafork · 13 days
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there’s not much thieves den and playground lore, take this as a placeholder
playground: there isn’t much to work on but they got serious beef with blackrock for god knows how long. there’s probably a violent gang that made rocket eject himself out of playground, I don’t think it’s skateboards look at his face hes so innocent. anyway skate, boombox, coil, rocket, spray paint, Mx. bot, ducky, sparkles, paint buckét, and grav (and even possibly Mic-U) are from playground according to the wiki. So um grav probably wanted to work in blackrock cause of science stuffs, and had to hide her identity because of the ongoing beef. Skate’s being rewritten and he’s now the leader of a sk8ng gang in playground, there isn’t much info on the gang yet tho. Boom is somewhat popular street performer, but he actually has genuine lore which involves Mic-U. According to a video I found on yt, boom used to be friends with mic-u and she even participated in phights w/ boombox. but mic-u got into and accident , forgot about boombox and started being an idol. I dunno what happened to her after that but she probably died . Coil is on the run from subspace , I think it’s because he stole a crystal
Theives den: is home to 6 characters, slingshot, katana, shuriken, vinestaff, graffiti, and lightblox. Slingshot runs a popular cat cafe on the top layer of crossroads, which I’m assuming has actual cats in it because it’s called a cat cafe. It’s debatable whether katana is a contributor to theives den lore or not, so I’ll just leave u with the fact that he’s originally from the cult and ran away, this is probably why he hates corruption. Shuriken is vinestaff’s brother but they don’t have parents, and probably see katana as a father figure. There is absolutely nothing on this guy (they did him dirty he’s so silly) other than the fact he “tattooed” (quote on quote cause he used a pen or something else) his right arm to support vinestaff. Shuri got a call from the broker once and got offered a job but he probably declined it because katana’s not dead yet. Vinestaff is cursed with something that slowly turns her into a tree, it’s visible in her right arm. In like, 300 years she will fully turn into a tree. Although, the curse isn’t that rare as people think since broker’s seen it a couple times. Scythe calls it a blessing , she says it’s a “matter of perspective”.
yeah that’s it
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yjhariani · 2 years
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Surprises
Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k Warning: Profanity, mention of a death of a neighbour.
A/N: Still the neighbour. How shall we end this series?
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That one day, you bumped into one of Simon’s friends who you met at the ball in your building. You believed they called him Gaz. When you greeted him, he greeted you back and said that Simon asked him to get something from his flat while he was away. Simon had left for a couple of months by then.
Later that day, you found out that your new Russian neighbour died. All you knew had died in a car accident.
When you updated Simon on your day via voice message, he only responded with a skull emoji, per usual. However, he did ask how you had been doing.
Weeks passed. Upon your leave, you found a bouquet of lovely flowers by your doorsteps. There was a card attached to it that said; Skull emoji.
When you confronted Simon about it, he left your text on read. Afterwards, you bombarded him with photos of Ghost the cat and received a response of a very rough selfie that had his middle finger in the frame.
You stopped counting the days of Simon’s leave because it was not getting better. The yearning was getting more and more real. Ghost the cat was keeping the yearning fire going even more rather than consoling you of Simon’s leave.
Then, it was your birthday again. At that point, you had not been in contact with Simon for over a week—which was not irregular.
However, later you had someone delivering something to your place. It was a birthday cake with a chunk of a quarter of it missing. A few hours after texting Simon of it, Simon responded with a photo of a quarter of a cake with his friends gathering around the remainder of the cake in the background.
About another couple of months after that, you found Simon waiting in front of your door at your arrival to your flat one Friday evening. You were not sure if you did it on purpose or not, but you leaped into his arms and he was catching you.
Even there, you could hear Ghost the cat meowing from the inside of your flat. He started scratching the door.
“Little shit’s going to ruin your place, love,” Simon pointed out.
“He’s already spraying everywhere, my place smells like cat piss now,” you replied.
“Maybe you should move him out to my place,” Simon suggested as he put you down on your feet.
Simon had his mask on and as if it was tradition, you pecked him on the lips through it.
“Let’s get in, then. Your son misses you a lot,” you teased.
“Of course you’d call him that,” Simon sighed.
Chuckling, you proceeded to open your door. Right away, the cat hopped out and meowed loudly at Simon. Simon picked up the cat and started scratching the space between the cat’s ears.
“I got something for this cheeky bastard,” Simon said.
“Oh, yeah? A little gift for your son?” you joked.
“I thought he’s yours,” Simon said.
“He’s my cat, but he’s your son,” you said.
You pulled the two of them into your flat. You led them to the sofa and put down the stuff you were carrying before going behind him and draped your arms on him from the back. You gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Tea?” you asked.
“Just you,” Simon said, gently pulling you so you were sat on the sofa next to him.
There was a moment when you and Simon only looked at one another. He took something from his back pocket.
“The bastard’s got my name, might as well look the part, don’t you think?” Simon put something into your hand.
Placed at your hand was a pair of circular tin with a chain. On the tin was embossed the word Ghost.
“I got it commissioned,” Simon informed.
You chuckled.
“What?” Simon asked.
“You care so much about your son. That’s cute. I’ll attach it to his collar,” you answered.
Simon looked at you disapprovingly. It was quite terrifying and it explained the look people gave him when you were at the ball.
“Hey,” Simon softly called. “Did I spook you?”
“You can say I just saw a ghost,” you said.
Simon put the cat aside and removed his mask. It was visible that his beard was longer than usual. His paint also looked fresh, meaning he was not taking chances of not putting his mask on or putting it on and looking weird behind the mask. 
Simon put the mask on the table. However, of course, the cat kept coming back at him.
“It’s mating season and I think that’s why he’s more touchy,” you said.
“Yeah? Shall we pair him up?” Simon replied.
Again, you chuckled.
“I paired my brother up and it went well,” Simon said.
That froze you up.
Simon? Pairing his brother up? It went well? Also, he was saying this out of the blue? On top of that, he said in a very good mood. Or so it seemed, at least.
As if seeing your wonder in the way you looked at him, Simon sighed and took your hand.
“You said you don’t have a pleasant story. That sounds very pleasant,” you brought up.
Simon said nothing, really. He instead brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles.
“Are they still together?” you carefully asked.
“I wouldn’t know, love,” Simon answered.
That sentence contained more emotion than whatever Simon had ever expressed in your presence. There was sadness. There was guilt. There was a little bit of anger. Even way less than that, fear.
You leaned closer towards him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Simon rested his forehead on yours before eventually taking your lips with his.
When the kiss seemed to be about going somewhere, you felt a smack on your face along with a few claws.
Yelping, you pulled yourself back, holding your face.
“Again?” you questioned.
“Get the fuck off,” Simon groaned, putting the cat down who reacted with a meow of protest. “You alright?”
Simon tilted your face aside, looking at the impact of the cat’s attack.
“Yeah,” you replied. “There’s more on my arms.”
Simon moved his hands to your arms, rotating them carefully to see a couple of more scratches.
“It’s just scratches,” you said.
“This joke isn’t worth it, then,” Simon said.
“You love the cat,” you reminded.
“Never said that,” Simon said.
Again, you both only looked at each other. Maybe you were trying to memorise each other’s faces again, but in a different emotion this time.
“What say you we ditch the cheeky bastard here and you spend the night over at my place?” Simon said.
“Dust island, you mean?” you asked.
“I’ve been cleaning since morning,” Simon said.
“Really?” you replied.
Simon nodded once.
“You managed to clean your place but not yourself?” you asked, lightly scratching his beard.
“I did take a shower,” Simon said. “Besides, you said you want to help me shave.”
“When are we gonna do that?” you continued.
“I got all week,” Simon informed.
Then, it was the next day.
You and Simon were in his bathroom. Simon sat on the closed toilet and you sat on his lap, facing him. You were lathering shaving cream on the lower half of his face and neck. Simon watched you, holding you in place by the waist under your shirt. Well, his shirt.
Once you were done, you smeared a little on his nose and chuckled. Simon responded by wiping his nose on your face.
“Are you sure you trust me to do this?” you asked.
“I am,” Simon nodded.
“What if I nick you?” you questioned, wiping the shaving cream off his nose.
“I’ve had worse,” Simon said.
“What if I shave your eyebrow?” you replied.
“No one would notice, love,” Simon shrugged. “Except you.”
Simon wiped the shaving cream off your cheek before resting his hand back on your waist.
“Get on with it, then,” Simon said.
“Let me know if I hurt you,” you said before taking the razor.
You started shaving his face. Every now and again, you would look up to his eyes, to see if he was telling you something. Every time, he only looked back at you with nothing but a resting look.
Occasionally, Simon would rub his thumb on your skin. At one point, he moved his hands to taut on the small of your back. Sometimes, he moved his hands to your thighs. Other than his hands, his body sat still.
After the shaving was finished, you rinsed his face and dried it up with a towel. Then, the two of you did nothing. You were just there with your arms draped over his shoulders and his on your hips.
“How does it feel?” you asked.
Simon felt his shaven face with one hand
“Good,” Simon said. “Well done, love.”
You smiled.
“I could get used to this,” Simon said.
“Let’s get used to this,” you said.
Simon pulled you closer and kissed you on the lips. You returned the kiss without hesitation. By the end of it, Simon rested his forehead on the crook of your neck.
“You’re safe,” you heard him say.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.
There was no answer.
Simon just pressed his lips on your collar bone.
“Hey, we’re already here. Might as well take a shower, yeah?” Simon suggested.
You put your hands on his face, lifting his gaze to you. 
“Sometimes you don’t answer my questions and it worries me,” you admitted.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Simon said.
“I have you to worry about every time you leave,” you said. “Should you fall in battle, who would tell me that? Our landlord when he lets someone move into your flat?”
“Especially that you don’t have to worry about, love,” Simon said. 
You only looked at him, not really reacting to his question.
“Look, the only person allowed to move into this flat after me is you,” Simon said. “In fact, if you’d like to save some for rent, you could.”
Simon took your hands.
“I got this place because I want to feel like going home every now and again,” Simon explained. “Then, I have you.”
Seeing the thin smile forming on your lips, Simon squeezed your hands a little.
“Doesn’t have to be quick, doesn’t have to be my place. Could be yours. I don’t care. Only if you agree with this,” Simon continued.
You moved a hand to his face.
“Sure,” you said. “The two of us living together?”
“How’s that sound?” Simon asked.
“With your son,” you added.
“Now you’ve ruined the moment,” Simon said.
You chuckled.
“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s get rid of one of these places. I mean… might as well, right?”
“Right,” Simon nodded.
The two of you were looking at each other again.
“We’re not moving too fast, are we?” Simon asked.
“It’s relative,” you said. “I already adopted your son.”
“God,” Simon scoffed.
You chuckled feeling that Simon was actually enjoying the joke because he kissed the back of your hand and smiled while doing so.
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@hao-ming-8 @here4thespice @fckwritersblock @misshoneypaper @oscarissacsslut @itsasecrets-things @revrs @d4z01 @snortangeldust @sm8th0p
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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funeralpartyclown · 23 days
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dale would totally be creepy about women when he’s out in public too, seeing cleavage and needing to rub one out immediately, whining and shuttering when a woman is showing a little more skin etc. idk i don’t think he’d be bold enough to cat call or approach someone (thoughts??)
He knows better than to even try. If he started walking up to a woman I feel like he would get pepper sprayed LMFAO
I’m so normal about him I’m so okay and regular and not going to rip my hair out and gnaw my furniture like a dog.
Anon you’re so right. Even once you’re together he’s still doing this in public right in front of you, he’s disgusting.
He could be mid conversation, totally fine, then maybe it’s hot in the room so you take your jacket off. He’s fumbling over his words and losing his train of thought and not even trying to hide the fact he’s staring at your tits. He’ll keep up the conversation though broken words and stand there with a huge visible hard on.
Maybe he’d follow you for a bit, but I don’t think he’d catcall anyone. If anything he’s just coming up and making a comment that’s trying to be a compliment but worded wrong and said breathlessly and sounds insanely perverse and you’re speedwalking in the opposite direction.
I think he’d be used to this treatment (he deserves it.) but if he were to say something to you, and you return the comment. He wouldn’t know where to go from there he’d be too dumbfounded and not even muster up a response, he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking and assumes you are. If YOU initiate things, he’s slack jawed and hard and if you flirt with him he’s probably cumming in his pants.
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