#Raised Flooring System
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raisedflooringsystem · 7 months ago
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Advantages of Installing a Raised Flooring System for Modern Workspaces
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People want more efficient and open businesses than ever in this high-tech world. They want to impress their clients with an impressive interior. Even in the homes, the sight of cables and wires hanging here and there leaves behind a bad impression on the guests.  
A clever way to achieve these goals is with a raised flooring system. It helps organizations and individuals handle mechanical, data, and energy services. Moreover, it keeps things in order and sets your place free from visible cables. Here are more reasons to opt for raised flooring.
1. Better Cable Control 
Having an easier arrangement of wires is one of the best things about a raised access flooring system. In many traditional offices, too many cables are problematic because they look bad and can be dangerous. With a raised entry system, you can hide wires, cables, and lines under floor walls. This makes things safer by lowering the risk of tripping, making it simple to fix things and add new ones.
2. Heat and Airflow Control
Any business needs to keep the temperature and airflow at the right amounts.
A raised flooring system can accommodate underground air delivery systems, enabling an effective and efficient movement of air. Most HVAC systems do not have to work that hard either, which saves a lot of energy. Under the floor, cooled air moves through the room, allowing you to focus precisely on the selected locations. This improves the overall temperature control.
3. Easy to Bend and Adapt
Flexibility is essential in a work environment that requires frequent changes. A raised access flooring system is the most flexible way to build a floor for such places. It makes altering the office plan simple without causing big problems.
Offices are likely to add or move desks, meeting places, and other business supplies with time. Shifting things is easy and does not cost much with raised flooring solutions. It will keep your office area flexible to meet the evolving needs with little downtime.
4. Better Aesthetic Appeal
An area that is free of mess makes an office appear better. Raised flooring systems hide wires and tools that don't look good, giving the space a sleek and modern look. A professional and well-organized space leaves a positive effect on the workers, leading to enhanced business productivity.
Final Words
Many good things happen with the use of a raised flooring system in a modern office. The benefits range from better cable handling and airflow to more aesthetic appeal and unmatched freedom. Accepting this new idea can make any office much more practical, safer, and attractive overall. No wonder, it is a widely preferred way to give a modern and sophisticated appearance to the offices.
Summary: A raised flooring system is the best way to handle cables, let air move better, and give you more choices for setting up your office. By hiding the lines, the place of work looks more professional, ensuring more happiness for workers and increased productivity for your organization.
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accessflooring · 1 year ago
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Elevate Your Space with Our Premium Access Flooring Services
Discover the ultimate solution for optimizing your space with our top-tier Access Flooring services. Whether you're looking to enhance your office, data center, or commercial environment, our expert team specializes in providing cutting-edge raised flooring solutions. Elevate your space's functionality, aesthetics, and value with our professional Access Flooring services today.
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acedavestrider · 4 months ago
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ooooooughhhh biting and maiming and tearing and scratching and killing and bleeding and
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dinncon · 4 months ago
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carpets and flooring
Discover a wide selection of high-quality carpets and flooring options available in your local area. Our collection features a variety of styles, colours, and materials to suit any aesthetic and functional requirement. Whether you are looking for plush carpets to enhance comfort in your living space or durable flooring solutions for high-traffic areas, we have the perfect products to meet your needs.
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froody · 6 months ago
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There was a TikTok of an (American) woman who was documenting her husband’s ICU room and expressing displeasure with the state it was in, it was generally unclean with broken equipment, rust stains, clipped flooring, things that can make a medical environment unsafe. I opened the comments expecting people to be like “Wow, that’s scary. And a huge infection risk. ICU stays often cost patients upwards of $100k and not enough of that money is going to maintenance and cleaning.” But instead it was nurses being utterly vile to this woman. Not saying “You’re right, it’s terrible that we’re forced to do our jobs in unsafe, unclean and outdated environments.” they were telling her she was a prime example of why patients’ families were the worst part of their job.
The hospital that charged my insurance $87k for a single endoscopy & colonoscopy performed on me was recently fined for having dirty equipment. If not on sanitation, if not on giving nurses and providers better wages, if not on updating the facility, where the hell did that money go? If nurses could band together to attack and criticize hospital administration and the American medical system in the way they band together to attack and criticize patients and advocates online, all of our lives could improve.
But of course it is easier to raise the sword against the vulnerable person dependent on your care, on the people often experiencing the worst day of their life when they are too frightened and in pain to treat you with courtesy. It’s easier to lash out at the patient inquiring about their medication after waiting two hours than to lash out at the people responsible for making you responsible for 30 patients at once.
I don’t think anyone blames nurses for hospital rooms being nasty. It’s not their job. It’s the job of custodial staff and maintenance. It’s the job of administration to fund those departments. It’s a problem at the top. If we could all look upwards instead of down when it comes to who we criticize and blame, we could make progress.
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qamraalhassan · 11 months ago
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Find high-quality industrial raised flooring in UAE - TradersFind
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Looking for high-quality industrial raised flooring in UAE? Discover the best companies through TradersFind and start exploring anti static raised flooring solutions for your business needs. Connect with leading raised flooring suppliers for commercial and industrial spaces. Visit TradersFind and post your request today!
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femonologue · 10 months ago
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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euthymiya · 2 months ago
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part two
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Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.
He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.
You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.
He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.
“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.
“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”
“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”
“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”
Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.
“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”
Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).
“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”
“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”
You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.
“What’s this?” You raise a brow.
“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.
Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.
Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.
Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:
▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!
Your eye twitches.
Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:
▣ not a chance!
You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.
Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.
And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.
You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:
────────────────────────
Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork
Greetings office neighbor,
Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?
Thanks a million,
Gojo Satoru :)
────────────────────────
And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.
You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.
Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:
────────────────────────
Thank you for reaching out,
Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.
Hope that helps!
Your office neighbor :)
────────────────────────
Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.
“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.
“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”
“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.
Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.
“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”
“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”
“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”
You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.
“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.
“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”
“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”
“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.
You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”
“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.
“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.
Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.
“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.
“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”
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disgustingtwitches · 5 months ago
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)
You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.
"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"
Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.
"Probably just a prank call."
Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.
"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."
He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,
"Looks fine to me."
He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.
"Fucks sake, lemme do it."
Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,
"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"
You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.
"No, don't bother. Jesus."
He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.
"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."
Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.
"Everything alright?"
He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.
"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"
Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.
"Go get Johnny."
You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.
He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,
"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."
His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,
"Problem?"
Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.
"Grab the cheque."
You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,
"Cash only."
"I don't have cash."
"There's an ATM around the corner."
The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,
"Right. Be right back."
He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.
"Oh there's no need-"
"Making sure you don't get lost."
Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,
"I need my change!"
He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair
"You alright, darling?"
Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.
~
That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,
"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."
Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.
"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."
Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.
"Pampered little princess, you know that?"
Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?
**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**
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raisedflooringsystem · 1 year ago
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Why is Raised Flooring a Great Option for Your Office?
Elevate your office environment with Raised Flooring from Bates Interior Solutions. This innovative solution provides versatility, allowing easy access to cables and utilities beneath the surface, promoting a tidy and organized workspace. Raised Flooring enhances office aesthetics by concealing unsightly wires, contributing to a polished and professional look. Our expert installation ensures a seamless process, optimizing functionality and adaptability. Embrace the durability and flexibility of Raised Flooring, a cost-effective choice that meets the evolving needs of modern offices. Bates Interior Solutions is your trusted partner in transforming workspaces with this efficient and stylish flooring option.
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lufyuu · 9 months ago
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,, Love Quest ''
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Background character male reader x Protagonist oc
Part 1 Part 2
Tw/s: dub-con at the start, dacryphilia, rough sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds.
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In a world where everyone's assigned a role they have to be, you were one of the many unlucky yet common ones to get the role of a background character. One who couldn't even interact with the protagonist if you wanted. The way it works is through the system. There is a system that essentially controls the world. This system can create scenarios, assign roles, etc. This whole world was built by it. Everyone has to obey it, excluding the protagonist themself, that is. Some even say it's possible for the protagonist to control the system itself but, that's just a rumour.
Of course, the role with the most power is the protagonist. Anyone would dream to have that power. To be the protagonist and have everyone fawn for you, throwing themselves at your feet, worshipping your every step. Not only that, his love interest is the best of the best, the prettiest girl you'd ever be able to lay your eyes on, the one you'd never be able to get with if you weren't the protagonist. Just like any other previous protagonist in this world, the current one is an extrovert, River Sterling. He's a perfect guy in every way. He's very well known due to being the protagonist, but also, he is very talented. It's as if there is nothing he can't do. He's even the top 1 on campus. Very rarely is he seen getting anything under an A+. Despite everyone constantly praising him and falling at his feet, he remained humble.
Just like any other day, you enter the building with books in your hands. You had to return these to the professor after borrowing them for a day. No matter how much you studied, you always remained top 2, and because of that, you were annoyed by River. Of course, it's not his fault that he's the protagonist, but you couldn't help but still feel negatively towards him. Going up the many many stairs, you overhear a girl yelling, maybe at a guy? You're not sure what kind of situation it is, but you guess it is a fight between a couple. "You never even spend time with me! Am I not enough!? Destiny binded us together, and yet here you are, doing nothing to please me, your girlfriend!", it sounded like Aria, the protagonist's main love interest. "Aria, well how would I be able to spend time with you when I feel nothing towards you", River says with a nonchalant tone, shocking you a bit, you've never heard him using that tone before. You stop in your tracks, right in front of the door, where you can hear Aria yelling at him. "Y-you...what!?", you can hear Aria say in disbelief. "H-how is that even possible! I'm who you're supposed to be with, I complete you, I'm your other half!", even without being able to see her, you can tell she's tearing up, probably with a red face. Though despite her crying, you don't hear River comforting her. Which is again, very out of character for him.
Next thing you know, you hear a very loud slap accompanied by running sound towards the door. Before you could even react, the door swings white open, a blonde haired girl running out of the room, knocking you down in the process. You stare at the direction she runs to. "Who are you, why did you eavesdrop", you turn back to River, looking down at you, glaring, even. His once gentle eyes seem to be clouded. You don't even recognize him. "[N-Name]", you gulp, you felt as if the man in front of you was going to eat you whole if you said the wrong thing. "[Name]..? I've heard of you, the top 2, right?", he asks in an almost curious but borderline mocking tone. You remain seated on the floor, books scattered everywhere. "Are you not going to explain yourself?", he raises an eyebrow, walking towards you. Taking this as a sign to get the fuck out of there, you quickly grab the books and try to run off, only to have your shirt grabbed by the tall guy.
"Running off are we?", he looks at you with a questiong expression, why would you avoid him, he wont eat you, will he? With the clock ticking, both of you know that soon, this hall will be packed with students, fortunate for you, unfortunate for him. He doesn't want you to go before he can pry some information out of you.
Thinking of a plan, he quickly drags you to the room, shutting the door behind him so you won't be able to run out without him stopping you mid-way. With his hands crossed, he asks you once more, "Why were you eavesdropping?", his tone even more demanding. "I was on my way to the professor's office, I just overheard some things. Can I go now?", you give a quick explanation, wanting to get out of this situation as quick as possible. Though, he wouldn't allow it. "How much did you hear?", "not much, please let me go now," you walk towards the door, turning the door handle only to see it's locked. It shouldn't be. The door can only be locked from the inside, and by the looks of things, River didn't have time to lock the door.
[System: Love Quest]
In order to proceed, please engange in intercourse.
And just as the system suddenly appeared in their face, a percentage bar appeared in the corner of the room and it stood tall, at 0%. With one look, the both of you knew what it wanted. "What the fuck!?", you yell, looking at the window and then at the protagonist who clearly isn't phased. He only sighs, rolling his eyes, as if he was annoyed by this notification. "This shit again", he whispers, loud enough for you to overhear on accident. He's gone through this before..? is what you were thinking. You've almost never gotten a window from the system, let alone one with any sexual themes. If River wasn't shocked, that means it's probably a common occurrence for him.
The two of you stare at one another for an uncomfortable period of time. As if time stopped for a moment. "This is getting real annoying", he says, sighing and stepping towards you. You back away until your back is pressed on the door making you unable to escape as he grabs your chin, lifting it up and looking at you. "You'll make do", he says before pressing his lips onto yours. Out of shock, you try to push him off, wanting to yell at him. How could he, a protagonist, be kissing someone like you? You're what others would perceive as not worthy of being in his presence let alone be kissing him. Yet here you are, getting your mouth explored by the man himself. Your eyes were opened from shock but you closed it after a few seconds, wanting to savour this moment. His hand made its way to your cheek. He was very gentle with both his hand and lips, making you lean into his touch. Before long, you felt as if you were running out of breath, how long can he even kiss you for!? Fortunately for you, he let go of the kiss, panting and trying to catch his breath after that incredible make out session. "We're not done yet", he says, pointing out the elephant in the room which is the percentage bar which still stands tall at 0%, no progress has been made, making the room inaccessible from the outside. The doors being magically locked also kept anyone from getting out before the goal was met. You knew you had no other choice but to do this in order to get out, as much as you were annoyed by the guy as a student, you couldn't deny his charm, the way his eyes looked into yours, the way his grazed his thumb over your lips. Who wouldn't fall head over heels for him? Anyone would die to be you at this very moment.
Without any hesitation, you managed to gather the courage to pull him into another kiss, you could feel him smiling into the kiss as he reciprocated. Moving his hands to your hips, trailling down to your clothed butt. Gropping and fondling it before he eventually unzips your pants, letting them slide down to your ankles. Leaving your bottoms almost bare if not for your briefs covering your private part. "Ahm...agh", the both of you moaned into the intense kiss before letting go. "You're a good kisser", you comment, gasping for air once more. He smirks, "of course, I'm not the protagonist for nothing", he chuckles a bit. You felt hands slipping into your briefs, making its way to your ass, gripping it even more now. He really seems to be enjoying gropping you. You felt his fingers move closer and closer to your hole before he inserts a finger into you, causing you to grip his arms in shock. "A-agh..!", you let out a surprised moan, his finger wiggling around, trying to get your hole to relax a bit, "you're so tense, [Name], loosen up a little", his inserted another finger, making you unable to keep your composure no matter how much you try to.
You feel his fingers thrusting into you, as if trying to get you to cum from his fingers alone. His long and slender fingers were quite deep in you. It wasn't long before he added another finger. And now that three fingers are going in and out of your hole, you feel as if you're aboit to reach your climax. You close your eyes, moaning loudly. He took notice to this and immediately stopped his fingers as if knowing you were about to cum. You're now puzzled by his actions, why did he stop? "I don't want you cumming from just my fingers, that wouldn't be fun now would it?", you then hear the sound of pants unzipping, realizing it was from him. He pulled his hard cock out of his briefs. You stared at it for a while before he snapped you back to reality, "eyes up here, angel", he teased, giving you a pet name while he was at it. "What? Have you never seen a cock this big?", you definitely haven't. It wasn't just long, just looking at the girth of it made you shiver a bit, how will that even fit. It was befitting of a protagonist, he's perfect in every way, even in his physical attributes. "Enough staring, angel", he says as he suddenly picks your legs up. You instinctively put your arms around him tightly so you don't end up falling, "hey!", you yell, this wasn't a pleasant surprise, you could've fallen, "relax, you're quite light", he is very strong afterall, he's joined almost every single sport available at this point.
You decide to put your trust in him, he's able to hold you up for over a minute now, there's no way he'll suddenly drop you, that'd ruin the moment on top of you getting hurt. After the shock wore off, you notice something poking at your hole, "hm..?", you let out a hum of confusion, turning your head down only to see his cock at your entrance, wanting to be inside you. "Are you ready to be filled up like you've never had before?", the now cocky-like protagonist asks with a slight chuckle at the end. You nod and immediately feel his cock thrust up inside of you, almost halfway in already. He grunts at how tight you are despite him having prepared your sweet little hole for his cock beforehand. Trying his best to get his cock all the way into your hole as you moan out in pain and pleasure, "relax why don't you?", he gives a teasing smile. Leaning in for a kiss, he manages to get you to relax and without another word, thrusts the rest of his cock into you, shocking you once more. You accidentally bite his lip in the process, drawing a bit of blood. "Agh!", he pulls back, tapping his finger on his lip and seeing that blood is coming out of the wound. He focuses on you once more, as if signifying he's about to move. You give a slight nod and he starts to thrust in and out of you, slowly and sensually at first. "You're really warm inside", he comments while thrusting into you, looking into your eyes as you manage to keep them open.
After a while of the sensual and slow fucking, he gets tired of it, wanting to thrust into you quicker. And so, he does as he wants. Thrusting into you quicker this time, rougher. You close your eyes and tighten the grip on his upper back, scratching his skin through his shirt. Your moans are no longer considered quiet, you're full on moaning your head out. That was before you realized the bell had rung, students were on their way to class and they'd pass by this specific room. You bite your lip in order to muffle out the moans, keeping it somewhat quiet in order to not get caught. River on the other hand, didn't like this one bit. He wants to hear your delicious and sweet moans, you should let them out for him to hear. "Stop biting your lip, angel, let me hear you", something in his voice made you want to obey his words, and for some reason, you find yourself no longer biting your lip, now you're just letting it all out, moaning and crying out for him.
The faster he went, the more you felt like you were about to reach your climax. He also seemed to be close. The both of you sweating, moaning, grunting. "I'm, agh, gonna cum...!", he says as he shoots his load all in you, coating your inner walls with his seed, some even dripping out. At that moment, you also came, releasing your juice all over your stomach. With the two of you now panting and gasping for air, River carries you to a nearby table, letting the two of you rest for a while. Just then, the door swings wide open, "Who the fuck was making all that noise!?", a teacher yells into the room, seemingly staring straight at them. The teacher looks around in confusion, "huh...I was so sure there was someone here...", He then turns his heels and walks back out, closing the doors on his way. You who were covering your face due to this, looked in the direction the teacher was in confusion, "did..he not see us..?", you ask River, to which he replies, "the system did that, probably", as if the system heard the man, it dings and the both of you turn your heads towards the bar of percentage now sitting at a solid 30%, "huh? 30%?", you say out loud in even more confusion, "it wants us to have sex and get it up to 100%", River says without missing a beat, "ready for round two?"
———
"Agh..! To..oo big, ahghh...", you try to say in-between moans, overstimulated by his cock and the way he bites your nipples. "You're taking me so well", at least he's enjoying it, a lot. You even wonder if he has an infinite stamina, but of course your thoughts were drowned by the time he came in you for the third time. How many rounds has it even been? The bar has been stuck at 99% for so long, when will this end..You're so overstimulated at this point, River's cock has been relentlessly fucking you dumb. You can't even think anymore, nor can you let out any coherent words. It's been at least a couple of hours since the both of you started this, why hasn't it ended. Your cheeks are wet, wet from the tears which had been and are still rolling down your face. He loves witnessing your debauchery. Your clothes have been discarded to the side by now, you don't know where but they're on the floor somewhere. His thrusts get faster and faster, you didn't even know he could go this fast but here he is, fucking you with inhuman speed. "C'mon..ah..come with me, my angel...agh", he moans and grunts while saying this. Then his thrusts stop and you feel even more liquid filling your already over-filled hole, making it impossible to be kept inside and most of it dripping out your hole and onto the floor which has a pool of both yours and his cum. At that very moment, you feel your whole body give out as your vision blurs until you eventually black out.
———
What happened in the room stayed in the room. Your life went on as usual, the normal schedule. Though, one thing has definitely changed. That is the fact that you are now dating the protagonist despite still having the role of a 'background character' . Everyone was shocked but learned to accept it. Who are they to defy the protagonist's wishes? One person in particular wasn't happy about this. None other than his ex, Aria. Everyone saw that coming from a mile away, though, so nobody paid her any mind. After that, River took any and every class you took. Science? You'd see him sit there with an empty seat next to him, looking up at you and asking with a big smile, "come! Sit here, angel!", while patting the seat next to him to signal for you to sit. PE? He'd always get you into his team no matter what. No matter how bad the other team wanted you on theirs, they'd never have you as you now belong to River. Being in the same class as you had its advantages. That is, being able to fuck you in class without anyone noticing. To be frank, the both of you found it out on accident. It was during class when the both of you got a new love quest. You thought of leaving the class to finish but the system didn't let you. It wanted the both of you to do it at that very moment. When he took the initiative and pulled your shirt up to bite your nipples, not a single student nor the teacher had any reaction, it was as if the both of you were protected by an invisible bubble that allowed the quest to take place. That, combined with the fact the teacher couldn't see the both of you the first time, confirmed your suspicions that they were indeed unable to see you.
From that day forward, the two of you almost always got a love quest every single day of school. The session would last at least 2 hours, leaving both of you a hot sweaty mess once it was over and done with. You'd always be embarrassed and extra tight during these. The way you felt eyes on you, it was as if they could see you, but in reality, they really can't. You'd tighten up at the thought of them watching you, making River grunt even more due to your tightness. He'd smirk and ram even harder into you once this happens. "Naughty boy, you get off to the thought of people watching, huh?", he'd always tease you. These love quests would be random, though. Despite it happening every day, the two of you could never predict when it'd occur. It could be very early in the morning, in class, or even during an activity. It was always random, so why would you always see River getting hard even before the love quest appear...? It's probably nothing. You're just paranoid.
☆☆☆☆☆
Apologies for the wait. My schedule's been real hectic lately. This is not proofread, so please excuse the probably many mistakes/typos!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any questions/reqs, please do send them my way!<3
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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accessflooring · 1 year ago
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Elevate Spaces with Solidfeel Access Floors: Innovation in Design and Functionality
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Discover the future of interior design and functionality with Solidfeel Access Floors. These innovative flooring solutions offer a seamless way to enhance spaces by providing versatile and efficient cable management and infrastructure access. Whether it's a commercial office, data center, or other high-performance environment, Solidfeel Access Floors combine aesthetics and practicality for a truly exceptional experience. Elevate your space with the modern allure of Solidfeel Access Floors, where form meets function in perfect harmony.
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libbyfandom · 1 year ago
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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink
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(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))
(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))
You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”
Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.
You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.
You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.
“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.
“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”
You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.
Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.
Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.
She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.
You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”
Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”
But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.
“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”
Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”
You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”
Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”
You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”
Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”
You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”
“He’s gross.”
She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.
“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.
You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.
She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.
“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.
She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.
The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.
She mumbles something.
“Mizu-“
“I wanna do that.”
Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”
“I want to cum inside you.”
The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.
Holy shit.
Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.
And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.
Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“
Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.
“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“
Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.
“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”
Holy shIT-
“Mizu-MIZU-!”
Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.
And very, VERY drunk.
She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”
You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.
But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.
Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”
Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.
Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”
Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.
“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.
Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.
“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.
Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.
Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.
You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.
She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-
“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“
You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.
SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.
You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.
“Baby.”
Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.
“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.
Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.
And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Please?”
She’s pleading.
What the fuck was in her whiskey?!
“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”
With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.
You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.
"Say yes..."
Click!
You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.
She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.
Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”
“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
“….Wait…?”
“RINGO HELP!”
In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.
“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.
“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”
You nod, “That sounds good."
You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”
She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”
Several loud crashes in the kitchen.
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turnerlandin · 2 years ago
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Transitional Closet - Raised-Panel Closet - huge transitional marble floor and white floor closet idea with raised-panel cabinets and medium tone wood cabinets
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casterofturnabout · 2 years ago
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Contemporary Pool - Pool Example of a mid-sized trendy backyard concrete and rectangular aboveground pool fountain design
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