#Scratch-resistant tiles

[hazel468]

Add Timeless Beauty and Durability with Limestone Tiles Enhance your interiors with the natural elegance of limestone tiles. Known for their earthy tones and unique textures, limestone tiles bring warmth and character to any space. Suitable for both traditional and contemporary designs, these versatile tiles can be used in various applications, from flooring and wall cladding to countertops and decorative accents. Durable and practical, limestone tiles can withstand heavy foot traffic and resist scratches and stains when properly sealed and maintained. Create a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere in your home with the timeless beauty of limestone tiles.

[crazytiles]

Scratch Resistance Tiles - Somany

VC Shield Technology provides a protective layer that safeguards tiles from wear and tear, scratches, stains, and weather damage. This remarkable achievement earned the company its first Indian Patent (No. 227692) in 2009, cementing its position as the first ceramic tile company in India to develop such innovative technology.

When it comes to choosing the best scratch-resistant flooring, several options offer exceptional durability and longevity. One of the top choices is ceramic tiles, particularly vitrified tiles, known for their impressive resistance to scratches and wear.

Vitrified tiles are engineered through a process of high-temperature vitrification, transforming them into dense, non-porous surfaces that are highly resistant to abrasions. This makes them an ideal solution for spaces that experience heavy foot traffic, such as hallways, kitchens, and living areas.

Among the reputable brands that offer scratch-resistant vitrified tiles, Somany Ceramics stands out for its commitment to quality and innovation. With a wide range of designs, colors, and patterns, Somany's tiles not only provide remarkable scratch resistance but also elevate the aesthetics of your space.

Somany Ceramics' scratch-resistant tiles are part of their VC Shield collection, a testament to their dedication to providing flooring solutions that prioritize both safety and style. These tiles offer a unique combination of functionality and beauty, ensuring that your floors not only withstand the tests of time but also maintain an appealing appearance.

Whether you're seeking scratch-resistant flooring for a residential or commercial space, Somany Ceramics' collection is designed to meet your needs. Their reputation in the industry for delivering high-quality products makes them a trusted choice for those seeking durable and aesthetically pleasing flooring solutions.

In conclusion, when considering scratch-resistant flooring options, vitrified tiles, particularly those offered by Somany Ceramics, provide an excellent blend of durability, style, and practicality. With their scratch-resistant tiles, you can enjoy floors that not only look stunning but also retain their pristine condition for years to come.

[chrissv4mp]

october 27

don't give a fuck where the penis been —

– hold me down when a hole need dick...

her large hands held you so gently, a huge contrast to the way her cock roughly fucked you from behind. your pussy swallowed her so perfectly, so willingly with no resistance, you were just perfect for her, so wet. her hand squeezed your ass gently, probably just like she'd done for every other girl at these after parties, but she made you feel like you were the only girl in the world whenever she chose you. her other hand was in your hair, stroking gently as she whispered the sweetest things in your ear imaginable, "pretty, you're takin' me so well. ts' why you're my favorite."

you cried out softly at her words, nails scratching the wall as your forehead fell against the cool tiles. you didn't care who or where the fuck her dick had been in before this, all you cared about was that it was in you right now. she was in you right now, and her attention was solely on you. her lips trailed hot kisses from the little skin on your back that you top exposed all the way up to your lips, the hand in your hair turning your head so that your swollen lips could meet her pretty pink ones. as you kissed her, you forced yourself to believe that you were her favorite. you convinced yourself that she'd never said that to any other girl before. only you.

her breath on your lips made you shiver, the strangled grunts falling from her lips right into yours. you reached behind your head to grab at her hair, tugging softly as you tried to stifle your noises, reminding yourself that you were in a public restroom and that anyone could walk in and hear the filthy noises coming from the large stall furthest from the door. your legs trembled, knees almost buckling under the pleasure of her cock sliding in your walls so harshly. every time you blinked, you saw stars and colors behind your eyelids. all you could think of was her. billie. billie motherfucking eilish.

"yup, jus' like that." she coos, lips pulling away from yours just to watch the way your hips roll against her dick. her own hips are relentless, smacking against your ass and making you take her until the base, just for her to pull out and repeat the action over and over until all you could scream were the syllables of her name, "no one's fuckin' you like this except me?" she asks, her mind hazy and thoughts scattered from the alcohol she had consumed since the beginning of the party. neither of you knew how much you'd had to drink. you shake your head feverishly, shuddering as she tugs your head back by your hair, "you sure?"

"no—mm.. nobody b-but'chu." you murmur, eyes rolling back as she hits a spot deeper than before. the burning feeling in your lower stomach is too much to bare as she repeatedly hits that spot over and over until your juices are leaking on her dick and dripping down your thighs. she quickly catches you as your knees buckle, her hands gentle but tight on your hips as she keeps you upright. the way she chuckles lowly in your ear only adds on to the floating feeling you get when you cum, endless incoherent babbles falling from your lips and into the empty restroom, "y'love me?" you whisper, voice shaky and quiet and almost unheard by the girl holding you so closely.

but she hears. she hears loud and clear the rushed words that spill from your mouth and out into the open air. her heart beats rapidly in her chest, and she's almost afraid that you can hear it. the only thing you do hear is her labored breaths, her hands only tightening their grip on your hips until she's sure she'll leave bruises that won't leave until a week after, "bill—" you cut yourself off when you feel her kiss your sweaty shoulder, her lips so soft against your skin. you feel the smirk when she speaks, and you can hear it in her tone, "i do—love... i love you."

KINKTOBER

@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @mxqdii @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie @zayluvss

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: This is not going well. He remembers what Y/N said—that he enjoyed scratches behind his ears, although he's pretty sure she had referred to them as "scratchies.”

or

Logan has to learn to get along with the newest family member.

Logan isn’t always resistant to change; in fact, he would do about anything for his lover, for his Y/N. He spends most of his nights watching the garbage TV of the modern family that she loves, and he even let her get pink tiles in the bathroom when they moved in together, but this might be too far.

He knows something’s up as soon as he walks through the door. Y/N usually comes running to greet him with a sweet kiss, or if not, he can usually hear her stomping around upstairs doing God knows what. But today, he doesn't hear anything immediately when he opens the door, and Y/N certainly isn't there to greet him.

As he steps further into the house, he tries to pick up on any sounds. Is that water running? It's a little early for Lovie to be having her nighttime shower, but perhaps a change in routine was called for. As he approached the sound, he realized that it wasn’t the shower; in fact, it was the sink in the bathroom. He could see her back facing him as she hunched over the sink, muttering to herself.

“Y/N?”

She quickly jumped at the unexpected sound, splashing water before turning around.

“Hey, love.”

He quirked an eyebrow. She sounded rather guilty.

“Is everything okay, baby?” he asked, peering over her shoulder to try and get a glimpse of what she was doing.

“Yeah, everything—”

He cut her off before she could finish. “Is that a cat?”

In the sink that he was standing in front of, he swore for just a second that he could see a sopping wet cat shivering in the middle of it. She finally relented quickly, turning around to pick up the tiny thing and pulling it tight into her chest, causing her shirt to quickly be soaked with soap and water.

“Actually, no, Lo, it’s a kitten,” she continued quickly, “and his name is Squish, thank you.”

“Baby, why the fuck do you have a kitten?”

He could be mad; she looked so cute standing there holding the tiny thing close to her, just like a protective mother.

“I found him, and he was all alone. He looked so sad; I couldn't just leave him there, Lo.”

Okay, he definitely wasn’t mad; how could he be when his baby had been doing something so sweet and loving? He hummed.

“So his name is Squish?”

Y/N lit up instantly. “Yes! Isn’t he the cutest?”

He nodded vaguely along, checking out the kitten closely. It was pretty cute, with white and red fur and big round eyes that peered up at him longingly. He was a little hesitant to reach out and pet ‘Squish’ just yet, but perhaps admitting his cuteness was the first step to that. He shook his head gently when Y/N offered for him to hold the kitten; that was definitely a while in the future.

The start of their relationship was rocky; Squish truly was very cute and made his baby very happy, but the kitten hadn't exactly taken a keen liking to Logan. Perhaps this cat was super smart or something, but he felt like the cat could tell something was up, could tell that he wasn't entirely normal. And listen, it wasn't entirely unjust; he had caught Logan whipping his claws out once completely on accident, but he had felt so guilty for scaring the little guy that he had fed him for a week just to win his trust back.

But it wasn’t just that; whenever Y/N wasn't around, Squish was, well, rather cold towards him. Perhaps it was rather silly of him to read into the emotions and feelings of an actual cat, but he felt that he should be closer to the thing. They did have quite a bit in common, more than he was willing to admit, much to his dismay. But no matter their common ability to ruin furniture, he couldn't quite understand the thing. It wouldn't matter if it was anything else, but this little kitty meant so much to his lover that he felt rather guilty about their mutual distaste for each other.

It goes on like this for a little while; they tiptoe and walk on four legs around each other for a little while, Logan embarrassingly unsure how to handle the little cat except for feeding it every day in hopes of it taking more of a liking to him. Things do not change for weeks.

Y/N has to go out of town for a few nights; she promises to call him every night (after teaching him his way around FaceTime) and makes sure he has Squish’s routine down pat. She leaves early in the morning, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and a somewhat crushing hug before she does the same for their cat and leaves out the door.

And suddenly they are alone together. He feels like a deadbeat father, unsure how to handle hanging out with his kid. Feeding it and then leaving it to its own devices. However, he finds himself rather lonely; of course, he finds things to do. He sees some friends, fixes the broken shelf in the bedroom, and considers what color he should consider painting the bathroom. He finds himself a little lonely; he is the only human in the house, and the only other creature seems to be avoiding him if it's not dinner time.

On day three of Y/N's absence (not that he's counting), he sits alone on the couch. He has eaten a rather pathetic dinner and now sits watching an episode of Modern Family on basically zero volume. The little guy comes trotting into the room. Despite the cat being about the same size as his hand, he can hear its little paws clicking on the ground, or perhaps he is more in tune with his supersense than he thinks.

Squish jumps up, settling onto the opposite end of the couch to Logan. He reaches out to pat Squish, but he gets quickly rejected as the cat shakes off his pat before turning around. This is not going well. He remembers what Y/N said—that he enjoyed scratches behind his ears, although he's pretty sure she had referred to them as "scratchies.”

Fuck it, it was time for him to give Squish some scratchies. He reached out and carefully patted the cat behind the ears. The little guy quickly leaned his head into Logan's hands, rubbing against them with what he could swear was a small smile. Squish moved closer to him, placing his furry head on Logan's thigh. This was nice.

He had opened the floodgates, and now there seemed to be no stopping them. Squish went everywhere that he went, always following Logan around, running around at his feet. He had also taken to sleeping in the bed with Logan. Logan was rather obsessed with having the little thing sleeping on his bicep or chest. Squish had taken residence on his thighs during their now shared TV time and had taken to meowing outside the bathroom when he spent too long in the shower thinking about his Y/N (Squish had ruined his pace at least once with the meowing, but Logan had quickly forgiven him, scared that he had traumatized the kitten again).

In all his excitement, he hadn't told Y/N about this new development in his relationship with her baby. Of course, he had been texting her more often than not—all they had been saying was “I miss you” and “I love you more,” and their phone calls had often consisted of too much talking.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, Y/N came home. She had texted him that morning letting him know her estimated arrival time, but he had jumped to his feet when he had heard her car pull up in the driveway, quickly swooping up Squish in his left arm before rushing to pull the door open. He grinned at her.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Lo,” she replied before he pulled her into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. He kissed her on the head.

“I missed you."

"I missed you too, love.”

He shut the door behind her as she turned to face him and gasped in surprise.

“My baby!” she somewhat squealed in excitement, and she reached for the kitten, pulling him into her chest and kissing him multiple times on the head.

“I see you are getting along well,” she grinned at Logan. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, we've been hanging out,” he shrugged.

She reached up for his collar and pushed their lips together. He smiled into the kiss. God, he loved his Y/N (and their Squish).

Squish’s clinginess towards him tampered down once his mommy was home. The kitten still sleeps in the bed with them and often rests himself on Logan's thigh, but he has stopped following Logan around wherever he goes. Y/N has definitely noticed their newly formed bond; she often catches them snuggled together when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night and has to stop herself from cooing every time Logan picks him up, dwarfing the little guy in his big hands.

Late one night, Y/N is in the shower, and Logan finds himself alone with the cat. He picks up Squish, pulling him next to his face and kissing the small guy.

“My baby,” he mutters. “My baby, tiny baby,” he utters quietly, gently kissing the kitten on the head.

God, he was down bad.

[hypnagogics]

i have this stupid idea in my head and it won't leave- ugh ok imagine this. y'know how in those rom-coms there's a moment where the main characters partner will throw rocks at the mc's window to get their attention. and then crawl inside the mc's room after almost dying climbing up by the nearby tree, scaling the roof tiles and almost tripping. i can't unsee some type of modern!ellie doing exactly that.... imagine her cutie self scurrying around your yard to find little tiny pebbles that won't scratch the glass and pelting them, all you hear is clink, clink, clink. then you open your window like "girl what??" and she stares up at you on the second floor asking if you two can chat, "please lemme in?" such a cutie. IMAGINE SHE BRINGS HER GUITAR TO SERENADE YOU AS WELL. oh gosh and then climbing up. you wouldn't even be able to watch, lest she slips and splats on the ground. and she almost does, being adorably klutzy, fingers slipping as she hoists herself up the branches, then balances across your roof and almost dies once more. and she makes it yayyy!! you cannot resist opening the window to let her in, partly because she's so silly, and partly because you didn't want her to slip and die leaving. however!! it is also nighttime and y'all gotta be quiet, whatever it is you may be doing once she's successfully made the journey. DO I WRITE THIS FR??? months ago i used to write these little ideas and never take them anywhere but i dunno....maybe i'll twist something outta this one eventually, unlike the other few oops. but like i really do love this idea- just might make something with it one day we shall see heheh...

edit: i wrote it here you go

[satoriberry]

Higuruma Hiromi is a cat.

No. That's not the correct verb.

Higuruma Hiromi behaves like a cat. Occasionally. Well, it only happened once.

Higuruma Hiromi, a man who lives up to the reputation he doesn't even know he created for himself a while back, never ceased to amaze you. He amazed you a first time when he correctly guessed your favourite skittle without even knowing your name ("You have the face of someone who would enjoy grape skittles.").

He amazed you a second time when he technically won a case and managed to score his client a one-month house arrest instead of a decade in jail after proving her innonence with nothing but tax return receipts as his golden piece of evidence. He amazed you a third time when you watched him ride a mechanical bull and manage to stay still as a statue the whole ride - not even whobbling when he got off.

A few dozen (read: hundred) more shocks and synonyms of the word "wow" later, you found yourself cohabiting a cozy apartment with him, one that conveniently allowed him to dodge public transport and bask in the crisp morning air on his way to his firm, then lackadaisically gaze at the moon on the way back. Nevertheless, Hiromi didn't find himself any more chipper or excited about going to slave in an office than he was before.

It had been a while since Higuruma has done something major that made you ogle him with a mixture of fear and wonder, ergo, amazed you. It had been a while since he's wowed you, but that didn't make you love him any less. It may actually be quite the opposite: ever since you made the mutual decision of living together, you believe you've become even more charmed by the man. His painfully bland yet charged lifestyle was practically the whole reason behind you sighing dramatically with heart eyes whenever someone mentioned the first two syllables of his name.

However, Hiromi managed to update the surprise score you had in your brain just for him, and, for the first time in a while, made you wonder what exactly was he made of.

9:56 AM.

You stood in the kitchen, palms on the marble counter's edge and eyes drooping every few seconds as you tried to resist the urge to sleep, and the only noises that kept you somewhat awake came from the chirping of birds outside your balcony doors, the typical Saturday traffic and the faint sizzle produced by the waffle maker you had plugged in.

You chose to skip some sleep, that was now starting to sound much more appealing than it did previously, and cook up an elaborate breakfast to avoid the avocado toast and coffee combo you and him have been having out of convenience for the past 10 days or so. You were waiting for the waffles to be done so you could move on to the other food items.

You reached for the egg tray and held one in either hand, contemplating the cook that you were going to go for, then horror struck as you heard your shared bedroom door creak, followed by the sound of irregular footsteps against the wooden tiles. He was already up. Feeling a bit betrayed and looking visibly deflated, you replaced the eggs on the tray and went back to staring at the red light that indicated that the waffles were still cooking.

The footsteps became louder as Hiromi approached your figure, rubbing his eyes with the ends of his palms, completely mute aside from the "ouch" he let out after bumping the island.

"Morning sleepyhead," you greeted him with similar fatigue in your grin, enjoying the sight of him manouevring rather terribly. You didn't move, awaiting the back-to-chest embrace he made a habit of offering you every time the occasion presented itself. However, you didn't get one. You didn't feel two warms arms wrap around your midriff, nor did you feel a jaw being placed on one of your shoulders.

You simply felt a nudge on your neck. More correctly, you felt a series of nudges, pokes and nuzzling motions on the side of your neck, accompanied by his bedhair scratching your ear multiple times. You additionally felt him rub his boney cheek against your shoulder's exposed skin, uncovered by the baggy shirt you had on.

He was rubbing his face against you. Like a cat.

You were certain of that due to the familiar bump of his hooked nose jabbing you gently, and rubbing along the expanse of your neck in a vertical motion. All this with his eyes glued shut despite wiping the life out of them a few moments ago.

You breathlessly giggled at the ridiculousness of....whatever this was. "Hiromi, don't take this the wrong way but, what on Earth are you doing?"

He made a bizarre grunt, but no words came out of his mouth. He contently kept tilting and pushing his face into your shoulder, his body stiff and arms dead on either side. A few times, you felt him push the top of his head in the junction between your shoulder and neck, as if he was spreading his atoms all over you. The feeling of his somewhat spikey morning hair made you emit a perplexed chuckle.

After what felt like a century, he switched gears and began peppering light kisses that started at the cap of your shoulder and made a trail to behind your ear, where he placed a final peck before patting your head and making to the bathroom, croakily mumbling, "Morning angel."

Just as you were doing before, you stood in the kitchen silently, body still and palms on the countertop's edge. Yet contrary to earlier, you were gobsmacked, absolutely lost as to what the fuck your will-be husband just did. Your eyes didn't leave the spice rack that was in direct line with your vision, and your jaw was still floored by the feline assault you just went through. It wasn't until the waffle maker's light switched to green with a clicking sound that you snapped out of your shock-induced stupeur, and began moving again.

Scratching your head in a cartoony manner, you walked to the bathroom whose door was completely ajar and showed that Hiromi was almost over with his morning routine, splashing water on his face to rinse off the ridiculously priced cleanser you persauded forced him to get.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, he patted his face dry a couple times before looking up at you with a mocking grin plastered on his features. Throwing the towel away haphazardly, he placed a callous palm on your shoulder and planted a brief kiss on your forehead, then proceeded to let you know just how good whatever it is that you're cooking up smelled, before heading off, leaving you a second time with no answer to your question.

Higuruma Hiromi was a man with a myriad of tricks up his sleeves, but waltzing up to you and acting like a needy cat wasn't something you could have predicated.

[cognitivejustice]

When we think of sustainable materials, bamboo, cork, recycled stone and reclaimed teak often come to mind. These building and surface materials are used extensively in both residential and commercial projects, enough to solidify them as the eco-friendly future of established architectural practices.

But what if we went even further? Creative and experimental designers worldwide are embracing much more unusual sustainable materials in a wide range of projects, be these sturdy floorboards and insulating panels, or small-scale decorative elements such as lamps, trays, vases and other furnishings. With designs hailing from Singapore and Indonesia, as well as distant studios in Italy and Palestine, here are the materials of tomorrow.

Mogu’s mycelium floor tiles

Mushroom filaments may not seem like the sturdiest base for hardwearing floors, but the Italian designers behind Mogu would argue otherwise. Transformed into resilient tiles appropriate for luxury residences and even commercial spaces, the mycelium structure is topped with a layer of bio-based resin, granting it resistance to scratches and abrasions rivalling traditional flooring materials.

Orange peel and pine needles make up the sustainable lampshades by Caracara Collective

Turning orange peel into useable furnishings and décor pieces is no small feat, yet the people behind the circularity-focused Caracara Collective in Finland have mastered this singular art. Inspired by the abundance of the natural, inherently sustainable materials around them, the designers created a series of lampshades made of orange peel, as well as pine needles from discarded Christmas trees.

As the collective puts it: “It takes around 20 squeezed oranges to create one lampshade. In other words, each lampshade is the by-product of someone drinking two litres of orange juice.”

Markos Design’s Ostra lamp, made of discarded oyster shells

Discarded oyster shells are similarly repurposed on the island of Cyprus, transformed by Markos Design into Ostra, a ceramic-like biomaterial. Ostra is worked into statement lamp designs, naturally hardwearing thanks to the oysters’ high concentration of calcium carbonate, which also lends cement and concrete considerable strength.

[m1dnyt3-w0lf]

Good Puppy Part 4:

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

⚠️WARNING: NSFW, SMUT⚠️

Summary: You and Miguel share quite the morning

You felt something press against your crotch in just the right way. It felt solid enough to give you some traction. You figured your blanket must've bunched up and started to rub against you. In your sleepy state, you lazily started to grind against it. You loved the small shocks of pleasure that shot through your body. You weren't exerting too much energy, but you were definitely building up to your orgasm rather quickly. Your breathing started to labor as you slowly chased your climax. Oh gods, you were so clo—

“A-amor,” came a rugged, and extremely raspy deep voice. It sounded strained and desperate. Then, a large hand grabbed and gripped your hips to still your movements. Your eyes snapped open, meeting Miguel's immediately.

Then, to your horror, you realized you were grinding on his cock.

You tried to get off him, but his grip on you rendered you immobile. “W-wait,” he said through clenched teeth.

This is embarrassing! You thought to yourself. How could you forget you were sharing a bed with him? And how did you end up with your crotch against his?! Your cheeks flushed red, unsure of what to do. You still felt so turned on, and the thought of not finishing nearly made you cry. On the other hand, you were literally on Miguel's dick. Sweats aside, obviously.

Slowly, Miguel lifted your leg off over his hip and scooted you back to your side of the bed. You nearly whined at the loss of warmth and contact. However, your now awake brain forced your legs to close immediately, shame making it hard to meet Miguel's eyes. His hand lingered on your thigh for only a moment before it gently slid off. He cleared his throat and rolled over, giving you an unintentional view of him. You felt your cheeks flush even more.

How big is he?! You thought as you watched him stiffly walk out of the room, leaving you to your flustered and horny thoughts.

Miguel had to resist the urge to drag you back onto him and rut into you. Instead, he shoved a hand into his sweatpants pocket and waddled out while doing his best to hold down his erection. Embarrassment flooded him as he quickly hurried to the bathroom, making sure not to tear the door off its hinges while locking it. As soon as the lock clicked into place, he slipped his sweats down and spat on his dick to lubricate the fast pace his hand moved along his shaft, softly moaning your name. The feel of you against him lingered and had his mind reeling. Shock, he could still smell you. A growl emitted from his throat. The claws in his free hand unsheathed and scratched at the wall he braced himself on. His breathing immediately labored with moans on the cusp of his throat. A whine managed to escape him, his hand moving as fast as he could comfortably go.

“Shock!” He gasped out, giving a few final pumps as his load once again covered the bathroom tiles. Miguel surveyed the mess. He could've sworn there was more than last time. He barely managed to squeeze out a groan through his heavy breathing. He couldn't handle this for much longer.

You couldn't handle this for much longer. You bit into your forearm, muffling your moan as you came. The climax had your thighs shaking and left you gasping for breath through your forearm. Gentle, muffled moans slowly spilled out of you as each wave of pleasure rolled through your body. As you came down from your high, the image of Miguel pounding into you slowly disappeared from your mind. You released your arm from its hold and sighed heavily. Your chest rose and fell at a slowly decreasing pace. At the same time, your guilt began to eat at you. You not only grinded on Miguel but also masterbated to the thought of him. And now…and now…

Oh you were in trouble.

You sat up in bed, eyes wide as the realization hit you. You quickly got out of bed and rushed to your luggage to pull out baby wipes and fresh clothes. If it weren't for the flush your body still carried from your climax, you'd be going flush at the sudden thoughts filling your head.

You were in so much trouble.

You could not be crushing on Miguel right now! While fake dating him?! And in your family home?! No, no, no, no! You don't even know if he liked you!

The thought halted you, leaving you with one leg halfway through your pants. If he liked you? Where did that come from? Of course he didn't! He's…he's just a friend. You put your pants on slowly after that. Just a friend. Yeah.

We're just friends.

We're just friends. Miguel thinks as he cleans up the last of his load off the floor. He looked over the tiles, making sure he cleaned up well. This was just a mistake. You weren't thinking straight. You were still sleeping. You didn't know.

He definitely didn't know all of this because he was already awake.

No, of course not.

And he definitely wasn't already staring at you.

Why would he do that?

Let alone staring at you as the morning sun shined down upon your skin, giving you an ethereal glow like some kind of angel.

Why in the world would he do that?

He, for sure, was not just letting you grind against his morning wood and letting the pleasure roll over him until he started to get close, and he barely had half a mind to even think about stopping you.

Who would do such a thing?!

Miguel groaned, uselessly pumping his once again hardened cock. He leaned down onto the floor, using his forearm as a crutch to barely hold himself up. He panted and softly whined at the sensitivity. He just couldn't help himself. Feeling you against him drove his mind wild. Something he's dreamt of finally made a reality, even if you weren't in your right mind.

Miguel moaned your name, panting and drooling onto the floor. Shock, how would you feel naked against his own naked skin? How would you sound moaning—no, screaming—his name? How would that mouth of yours take his girth? Would you try to hilt it or choke trying? He moaned again, thrusting into his hand pitifully. Much too soon, he came again. He bit into his forearm to muffle the animalistic grunts he released.

He needed to do something about these thoughts. The more he pretended to be your boyfriend, the more he wanted to be your boyfriend. He thought if he could just get through this weekend it’d be fine.

It is, very obviously, not fine! He thinks bitterly as he once again starts cleaning up his mess on the floor with one hand, shoving his now softened dick back into his sweats with the other. How was he going to talk to you about this after what just happened? It'll just make it seem like he only caught feelings after the fact. Then what would happen? You'd probably disappear from his life for sure.

Miguel washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water a couple of times. He dried off and looked at his reflection. His sclera appeared to be tinted red, and his irises had gone from his usual dark brown to a bright red. His eyes widened.

“Shock.” He was quick to exit the bathroom and rush back to your shared room. How could he forget—

—to lock the door?!

You screamed when Miguel barged in, making him shout in alarm and stumble back out and slam the door on his way out.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” you said in a hurried panic. You were fully dressed. You were just given such a fright at the sudden barge in. You held a hand over your heart and felt it beat hard against your chest.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see anything if you're worried about that.” Miguel called through the door. You roll your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as the fright subsides. You walk over and open the door, opening your mouth to say something.

Only for your words to die in your throat.

Miguel was towering over you and leaning against the door frame with one arm, his free hand planted firmly on his hip. Despite the morning light, his face seemed shrouded in shadow, his eyes seeming to glow red and stare right into your own eyes. Your arousal came crashing down on you like a speeding truck. A gasp left your throat. You felt your cheeks heat with the usual pink hue. You felt so small against his large frame.

Miguel's eyes squinted slightly before slowly roaming your figure. A pleasant shiver crawled down your spine. His eyes developed a sort of hungry look. His eyes traveled back up just as slowly. You felt like he was eating you alive, and you loved it. His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, you could see exactly what he was thinking.

“Miguel?” Came your mother's voice. Miguel looks away, his demeanor changing into a completely new person as if shape-shifting. You gasped out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

“Hello.” Miguel says in a normal tone with a polite smile on his face despite the hungry look he had just given you.

“What was that screaming I just heard? Is my Junebug okay?” Shit, you worried your mother.

“They're fine, I just gave them a little fright, is all.” He says with a chuckle. “Right, mi amor?” His gaze slips to you, the same hungry stare clouding his vision from before. You gulp and take a second to find your voice.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” You stutter out.

“See?” His gaze slides back to your mother, the hunger gone.

What did that stare mean? And why do I like it?! You thought in a daze.

“I'm not dressed for such an occasion, but I'm sure they are!” Miguel said, emphasizing his words by looking at you.

“Wait what?” You manage to say before he grabs you and pulls you out of the room.

“Hey!” Then he pushes you towards your mother.

“Miguel!” He didn't respond. Instead, all you heard was the slam of your room door. You were left standing in the hallway with your mother, staring at her with wide eyes and in utter shock. Your mother, on the other hand, had a gleeful expression and clapped her hands together.

“Oh, thank you, Junebug!” She exclaimed as she hurried over and pulled you into a crushing hug. For an older lady, your mother sure had some strength. “I'll get the coffee ready, and you can help me make breakfast!”

“Oh, uh, Mom, wait-” You didn't have a chance to say anything more, dragging you away as she talked your ear off.

Miguel listened to you both walk away. Once he was sure you weren't coming back, he rushed to his luggage and opened it, nearly ripping it completely in the process. He tossed his things out without care. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: a small, gun-like contraption. A little more rummaging, and he found a case. The case was not as lucky as the luggage, being ripped apart in his desperation. He took out one of the vials and quickly loaded it into the contraption. He barely had a mind to aim it before pulling the trigger. A small grunt egged out of him as the needle pierced his skin, and that familiar cooling sensation began to run through his veins, spreading from his shoulder to the rest of his body. His clenched jaw and shoulders relaxed, and his heavy panting fell to more gentle pants. A sigh of relief finally escapes him.

“Shock.” The morning was off to a terrible start. Miguel didn't even want to think about the thoughts that filled his mind when you opened the door. “I'm in so much trouble.”

Part 5

Likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome!

Tags: @crocs-blogs @madschiavelique @arithestrawberry @eveandtheturtles @obi-mom-kenobi @thelaundrybitch @symmetricalkazekage @raphsmuneca

[angel-of-the-moons]

can you do some bratty reader x johnny cage :33 need him so bad 😭

HELLS YEA I CAN

(Also because it wasn't specified which Johnny, I'm gonna go with MK1 because the things I would do to with this man--)

Bad Kitten

Johnny Cage x Bratty!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, bratty!reader, bit of a dom!Johnny (but not much), pool sex, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Being Johnny Cage's girlfriend had its perks.

Living in Malibu in his gorgeous mansion was one of them. As well as having a bomb ass pool that went all the way inside the house, too.

It was no biggie to pop in for a swim whenever you wanted to engage in your "fish instinct brain" that Johnny called it. In fact, when Johnny couldn't get a hold of you while he was on set, or you weren't answering he knew he could find you floating in the pool, one of your favorite shows playing on the TV nearby as you lazily kicked your feet about in the water.

You were a bombshell, a true prize, Johnny would tell everyone.

But the one thing that confounded him the most, was your bratty and playful personality. You were a smartass, a bit of a prankster, and a maddening tease.

An intoxicating cocktail that he couldn't resist (and found stupidly sexy).

But sometimes... You needed some reminding as to who you were playing with. And right now was one of those times.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at you, his shoes just inches from the edge of the pool, his expensive silk shirt wet and damp from where you splashed him, soles squeaking on the expensive tile.

"C'mon, Kitten..." He said, crossing his arms over his chest, frowning down at you, a bite to his tone.

"Because of you, I have to go change now. We're gonna miss our reservations."

"So?" You grin up at him, doing a lazy backstroke, thrusting your chest up out of the water so your breasts were on display, your bikini top leaving little to the imagination.

You could see his Adams apple bob in his throat as he licked his lips. You couldn't see his glasses behind his shades, but you knew damn well what he was looking at.

"Baby, c'mon..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nah. Fish brain demands water." You laugh, kicking your foot out and splashing water onto his shoes, causing him to step back with a sputter.

Somewhere along that time, Johnny slipped on the water you'd splashed earlier, landing flat on his ass and sending his glasses skittering across the floor.

"All right, that's it!" Johnny growled, moving to get back on his feet.

"You are in for--" He was cut off when your bikini top came flying at him and hit him square in the face.

His mouth dropped open when he looked at you, the setting sun casting fiery colors on the water, reflecting up onto the walls in a mystical array of patterns, the light of the sunset illuminating around you as you spun in the water, a cheeky grin on your face as your breasts freely bobbed in the water.

"In for what, baby?" You purr, sticking your tongue out at him. "Gotta catch me if you wanna get your point across..."

Johnny gave you a grin that sent a thrill down your spine, and he started pulling his clothes off.

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

"I'm soo-oo-rrr-rrryyy!" You whimpered, squirming to get free from his relentless grasp.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Johnny said casually, as he rolled and pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. Your bikini bottoms had long since been untied, floating somewhere in the pool.

He had been at it for nearly an hour and a half. Your bodies were already pruning, but that didn't stop him.

"You got my floor wet, Kitten." Johnny sighed in your ear as he gave you another pinch, his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping your back pinned to his front.

"Got my clothes wet, made us miss our dinner reservation..." He rolled your clit beneath his water-wrinkled thumb.

"Made me drop my glasses, too. If those lenses are scratched... Well." He grinned into the skin of your shoulder.

"This is what happens to bad pussies, you know. You gotta learn your actions have consequences, babe."

You groaned at his crude metaphor, and made a shaky moan. Your throat was dry and scratchy, your tongue feeling like sandpaper from your whining, squealing, and moaning you'd done since he started this torture.

You felt the flames of your orgasm, so close to completely engulfing you, and you felt your heart speed up again at the promise of release.

But Johnny? Oh, he knew your body like that back of his hand, by now.

He knew how to read you the way a blind man reads a book written in braille; and he was always eager to study when it came to you.

And that, is precisely why he stopped, merely tapping his finger on your engorged clit, sighing as you thrashed, a needy sob coming from you as water splashed around you, your legs kicking weakly in protest.

"Johnny!" You cried, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

"Mmm?" He hummed innocently, still tapping your clit in a way that was just pure torture, each point of contact sending lightning bolts striking up through you.

You could feel the hardness of his cock was pressed firmly against your ass, yet Johnny seemed perfectly content to ignore it in favor of driving you to the brink of insanity with just his fingers.

"God--just--fucking--" You cry, throwing your head back.

"Hey, now, keep talking like that and I'm gonna make sure you never get off." Johnny grinned at you, kissing your cheek.

"Johnny, I'm sorry--" You hiccuped pathetically. "Just please!"

"Please what, baby?" He cooed.

"Fu--please. Please please pleasepleaseplease let me cum."

"Aaaaaand?" He chuckled, swiping at your clit again.

"I'm sorry I got you wet!" You sobbed. "Ah-and--and made us miss d-dinner!"

"That's my girl! Knew you could do it!" He encouraged with a kiss to your shoulder.

When he pulled his hand away from your, you whined, thinking that he was messing with you and wouldn't give you the relief he had been teasing you with and yanking out of your fingers.

But when he spun you around and started to grind his cock against your folds in the water? You felt your mind get foggy with the promise of having his cock fuck you into oblivion.

"Been wanting to fuck you in the pool for a while." He grunted as you blindly reached down to line him up, sinking down so the tip of his cock popped into your aching hole.

Johnny tipped his head back with a deep groan that rumbled in his chest as you speared yourself down, nails biting into the wet skin of his shoulders, sliding down to leave deep red grooves in the skin.

"Goddamn, Kitten. You're so tight."

"Ah, god--fuck." You whine, desperately trying to get into a rhythm that you could settle into.

But it was hard. The slickness of the water made it difficult; awkward and hard to find purchase. You were getting frustrated now, and made an angry whine.

Johnny chuckled tightly and took pity on you, his feet planting on the tiles of the pool below (thankfully you were on the shallow end, right now) as he grabbed your hips.

He used the water to help him move you as he arched his back, thrusting up into you with vigor.

You squealed and doubled over as he rammed himself in mercilessly.

When he tipped his hips up in a certain way, your mind went blank with the white-hot pleasure that sparked in your blood. The flames of your orgasm that Johnny had been edging from you finally combusted, engulfing you in the choking flames with a frayed wail; your muscles clamping down on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sniffling from the overstimulation as he continued to slam up into you, his arms caging you against his chest.

"Fuck, so good for me, baby." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Doing so. Fucking. Good." He grunted, punctuating each word with a harsh snap of his hips.

"Johhhnnnnyyyyy..." You mewled as his dick dragged in and out of your gummy walls.

"Fuck!" He rolled his eyes back with a deep moan, swallowing hard.

He knew he was going to cum soon, he never lasted long when you were this worked up and tight.

But damn, was it fun to work you up.

Johnny made a whimper in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, biting down as his orgasm started to crest.

He had the mental acuity enough to pull out before he started to cum, milky white ropes spurting out of his swollen and achy tip, lazily wafting about in the waves that splashed around the two of you.

You both almost collapsed, letting the push and pull of the water ease your muscles.

"...Im thinking we should order out tonight." Johnny grinned at you.

"Up for some Chinese?"

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: knifeplay

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 3k

knifeplay: consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of stimulation.

It was perfect. You had fake blood all over your room, staining your once blue sheets, but the costume was perfect. 

For Halloween, your friends had decided to host a party at one of the dorms. You and your best friend, Jeongin, had decided it would be the best idea to dress up as Sidney Prescott and Ghostface. Your costume was quite easy - you already had an old denim jacket you could cover in blood, and a basic lilac top to go underneath it. When put together with a simple black pair of jeans, you felt completely ready. Your costumes were going to be the best.

The Instagram pictures would be amazing, too, you decided while walking to the party. You didn’t have a long way to walk, and it was quite amusing listening to the kids screaming for candy outside people’s doors - but all you could hope was that one of the members of 3Racha had actually cleaned the dorm this time, and not left it all on Hyunjin.

Music was already booming when you arrived, reverberating around your sober brain and making you wince. Would you regret coming here?

You realised you really did regret it, when the front door swung open and you were met with fox-like eyes in a… a fucking Pokemon trainer costume. Felix emerged from behind him, sharp yellow ears perched on his head and his cheeks covered in red. 

“Listen,” Jeongin began, gloved hand reaching out to you. You sighed, shutting your eyes. “It was Felix’s idea. Look at him. He’s really convincing, and I’m sorry I didn’t text, but Chan’s put this stupid no phone ban on and-”

“Look!” Felix chirped, and when you finally saw him… well, you understood what Jeongin meant. He was in yellow dungarees, tail wrapped on a string around his waist and little ears bobbing with his glee. When he looked at you, his face fell. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you guys have something planned, or-”

“No, not at all, Lixie,” You murmured, pulling him in for a hug. He really was so cute. No one could resist him. “I’ll find my Ghostface somewhere.”

Felix nuzzled into the hug, wrapping his arms around you, before he was squealing. “Seungmin’s dressed up as Ghostface! Oh, Innie, did you plan this?”

You blinked, turning to Jeongin. Seungmin was your arch nemesis, but only purely on the basis that you both had some heavily unresolved sexual tension.  Jeongin wouldn’t do this to you - or so you thought, because when you looked at his face, he was looking extremely guilty. “I know you have some… issues, but it needs to end now. It’s making things awkward, and, and… you can take pictures together, y’know? Then be friends,” He was mumbling, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His Pokemon hat obscured most of his face, but you could still see the pout on his lips. Fuck this. You had the two sweetest men in front of you apologising, expecting you to be angry at them, but even you weren’t that mean.

You sighed, finally pushing past the two figures to enter the party. You were immediately attacked by a black plastic streamer dangling from the ceiling, and you swatted it away with a grunt. “It’s fine. Let’s do the pictures, then.”

It had always been the plan - to take pictures all together before the party really got into full swing. You had a feeling you’d been a little late because there were already quite a few people there. Still, you diligently walked into the kitchen behind Felix and Jeongin anyway, where everyone was standing around, conversing.

There he was. Ghostface mask pulled halfway off of his head to reveal dark, menacing features and a black cloak draped over his slender figure. Chunky black boots made an echoing noise as he tapped his foot impatiently on the tile, sipping out of a glass with one gloved hand and the other holding - a knife. It glinted in the light as he spun it around with his fingers, playing way too comfortably with the blade. Oh. Oh, no. Someone was playing a practical joke on you. 

“Is that knife real?” You squeaked, and Seungmin turned to you with a glare. “Like, it’s not a prop…? Why do you have a real knife?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, then his lips were curling upwards with a smile. “To finally kill you with.”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” You deadpanned, but half of you was considering if he was being genuine about it. It wouldn’t surprise you - he was a sadistic fuck, always had been since you met him. It was why you wanted him so bad. “Let’s take these pictures. I’m already over it.”

Felix fiddled with his camera, flicking off the lens cap and trying to get it in the perfect position on the counter. You scurried in front of Seungmin as he walked over after placing his cup aside. Once Felix had set the timer, he ran in front of the lens and clutched onto Jeongin. Oh, yeah. What was Seungmin supposed to do, given that you were matching?

You had your answer quickly. With one gloved hand, he pulled his mask down and pulled you into him by the waist, and then he was positioning the knife at your exposed collarbone. It nipped teasingly, the blade threatening to draw blood. You looked down in shock, only to see Seungmin’s hand confidently holding the handle - god, was he skilled with this? He hadn’t killed people, hopefully, but… what if he was into something like this?

Wetness pooled in your panties at the thought. It’s a kink straight out of your deepest, darkest desires. The idea of being too scared to move in case the knife bites at your skin, dripping crimson liquid down your body only to be lapped up by the blade again… yeah. It was hot, and for some reason, with your fake-enemy pressed against you, it was even hotter. You didn’t even blink when the flash went off, too focused on trying to keep your breaths even. 

Seungmin dropped his hand once the picture was taken, and then he yanked the mask back again. He was staring at you with a bewildered expression, but he looked somewhat impressed. Pulling you to one side by your arm, he gripped your waist again, trapping you against the wall so he could whisper into your ear. “Did you get turned on when I held that knife to your neck?”

“No, what’s wrong with you-“

“I heard you holding your fucking breath,” Seungmin hissed. “That’s fucking insane, you know? Dressing up as Sidney and then getting all… like that. It’s like you wanted me to do it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Seungmin’s eyes flitted around your face. “I was actually meant to match with Jeongin, so maybe I wanted him to.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Seungmin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pinched his temples, and then he sighed. “I know you want to fuck me. God, I want to fuck you too, so bad. I’m sick of playing this stupid push and pull when I could be upstairs fucking you with this knife to your neck right now.”

Your eyes widened. You let out a puff of air, trying to find the words to say, but you only noticed that fuck, Seungmin was awfully close all of a sudden. His breath was heavy on your burning cheeks. When you looked around the room, you could see that no one had noticed the two of you - Felix was too busy still jumping around and Changbin and Jisung had dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. You wanted to coo at Changbin, his bulging arms so adorable in the little green dress and wings, but you were definitely more engrossed in what Seungmin had to say.

“The party. We can’t leave, you know?” You finally spoke, and Seungmin pulled back. You wanted to cry. He looked around the room, nodding, before he was pulling the mask back onto his face and obscuring his annoyingly perfect features. 

“Half an hour. Jisung’s room, upstairs. Is that alright with you?” His voice was muffled, and you had to crane your head a bit to hear him. You nodded nonetheless, and he gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd of dressed up men. 

You sighed heavily. This was about to be the longest half an hour of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s room was chaotic. You had literally no idea why Seungmin had decided on his room out of everyone’s - surely Hyunjin’s would be better, or even Chan’s with the mood lighting? You opened the door anyway, entering the small room and stepping over piles of clothes to lay back on the bed. At least the bedsheets were cleaned. Jisung’s lamp was the only source of light, leaving the room basked in a creepy orange Halloween atmosphere. It definitely fitted the setting.

It had been exactly half an hour. Seungmin was late. Was he ever late? In your whole pseudo-friendship, you were sure he’d never been late, and-

The door burst open and a masked figure emerged. You jolted, sitting upright on your hands and blinking at the man in costume. It briefly crossed your mind that you couldn’t even be sure it was Seungmin, and then he was tearing the mask off, throwing it aside. 

“It’s still me,” He said, tone soft. Was he a mind reader as well as a borderline psychopath? You nodded, wiggling forward on the bed when he sat across from you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Did you bring the knife?” You responded. Seungmin burst out laughing, and then he was bringing it out from his jean pocket, beneath the cloak. 

“You are very fucked up. Has anyone ever told you that?” He murmured. You stared at his gloved palms as he threw the knife aside, moving on the bed to pin you down against the mattress. You wiggled impatiently, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Your chest heaved, staring up at him with doe eyes as he blinked down at you.

“‘M not fucked up,” You mumbled, pouting. Seungmin chuckled.

“What was it Billy said in the movie again? ‘It certainly fucked you up, it made you have sex with a psychopath’? Is that not what’s happening right now, baby?” His breath was hitting your face again, and you just couldn’t help it this time. With one hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down, pressing your lips against his in the filthiest kiss you’d ever shared. Seungmin groaned, hands meeting your waist and delving into your mouth with his tongue. You let him nibble into your bottom lip, let him nearly draw blood with his teeth until you were whining, bucking your hips up for more. 

You whined, chasing his lips for more kisses. You heard fabric rustling, and then Seungmin was pressing an ice cold blade to your neck. You shifted immediately, laying back against the pillow and looking up at Seungmin obediently. He just smiled, appearing borderline menacing in the dim lighting of the room. You were so fucking wet.

“You do get off on this,” Seungmin mused. He leaned back on his ankles, letting the knife drag down your body. With a clean swipe, it was cutting through the fabric of your tank top and leaving you in just your bra. “Should I make you bleed, hm?”

“You can- you can do anything you want, Seungmin,” You sighed, arching your back to get more of the feeling of the blade against you. Seungmin bit his lip, dragging the blade down to your jeans. He wouldn’t be able to cut through that fabric - it’s too thick, he’d need something sharper. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head and then he was shaking his head, unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them down your legs. They balanced precariously on one ankle, and you kicked them off before eyeing Seungmin up and down. “Are you… gonna get naked, or?”

“I have different plans for tonight,” Seungmin replied quickly. He gripped the knife firmer this time, until he was dragging it down to your underwear. You knew you were wet, and you shut your eyes and moaned loudly when he pressed the blade into the wet spot forming in the fabric. You thanked every god that the music was still just as loud as earlier. “I’m going to finger you and play around with this knife. I don’t think you could handle more tonight.”

He was right. Another thing that irritated you beyond belief was the fact that Seungmin seemed to read your mind. First with your silly knife play kink, and now with the fact that you definitely couldn’t handle full blown sex tonight. You would’ve tried, and gotten yourself all fuzzy over it - but he knew better. 

“Okay,” You agreed. He hummed once more, and then he hooked the blade into the lace of your underwear, cutting them off of your body. He was a bit heavy handed though, and your legs thrashed when the blade nicked your skin just a little, causing a small crimson red cut to bloom on your hip bone.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He ogled the cut, running his thumb over it. It made you whine in pain, yet he ignored you and thrust his thumb into your mouth. The taste was tangy, a bit too metallic for your liking but the whole thing was so fucking hot you couldn’t deny him anything. “Did you like that, too? Okay. We’ll explore that another time.”

Seungmin threw the knife aside once more, and then two long fingers were pressing into your folds. You laid there with legs spread, letting him explore every dip and crevice in your pussy and examine how wet you were. You knew you were dripping, and he did too - it was just a waiting game. 

You squirmed, bucking your hips up. “I’m wet enough. I promise that I am, just-“

You gasped when he pressed the knife against your throat again. You hadn’t even seen him grab it. “Stay fucking still,” He warned. “I decide when you’re ready.”

Well, you could definitely get on board with that. Seungmin sunk his middle finger into you nonetheless, meeting no resistance. Your hole was dripping around him, leaking down to his knuckle and making him sigh in approval at the sight. He still had his gloves on, the faux leather buttery and smooth inside of your hole. “This pussy’s tight, huh?”

“I’d clench it for you,” You breathed out, letting one of your hands grab your tits over your bra. The knife was still pressed tightly against the column of your throat, but you managed to pull your tits out of the lace, making Seungmin’s eyes instantly flit down to your pebbled nipples. He started to thrust his finger inside of you, the material of his gloves dragging on your rim. “I’d- I’d clench around your cock, Seungie. Make it so tight for you.”

“Yeah?” Seungmin breathed. On his next thrust in, he pushed another finger in, and then he was curling two directly at that lovely spongy spot inside of you. “I’ll look forward to it, baby. Do my fingers feel good?”

“So good,” You gushed, tweaking your nipples with your fingers. “It’s so good, and- the knife, oh god-“

“Is it like you imagined, yeah?” He moved up to your side, easing his pressure on the blade so you could turn your head and kiss him. It was just as filthy, and he moaned in approval when your walls fluttered around his digits. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both. “Maybe next time, I’ll fuck you with the handle of the knife.”

You keened, starting to bounce your hips against his hand. He obliged with your movements, pressing his palm up against your clit and letting you grind the sensitive bud into his calloused hand. It was just the right amount of soft and rough, making your toes curl in your socks and your orgasm build steadily, a white hot pleasure in your pussy. 

“It’s- I need it-“

“God, do you even know what you need?” Seungmin chuckled, kissing your cheek. “I think you need to cum for me, don’t you?”

You nodded erratically, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Seungmin dropped the knife to his opposite side once more, replacing it with a firm grip to your throat with his spare hand. The sight of his gloved digits around your throat and restricting your airflow had you wailing once more, gripping his wrist and grinding with renewed fervour. 

“I think- oh, I’m gonna cum,” Your lips parted, letting out muted moans and whines at the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me then, no need to make a noise,” Seungmin was still amused, and you gasped before you were cumming. “That’s it, there you go.”

You felt your hole gush around his fingers, soaking the material of his gloves with white cum and your clit throbbing through your orgasm. It felt good, not only to cum but to also finally have some tension resolved with such a prominent person in your life. 

When you finally came to, you were still gasping, breath heavy and burning your lungs with every exhale. You heard Seungmin coo at you, laying back and dragging you onto his chest. 

“Good?” He questioned, and you nodded.

Then, something hit you. “Seungmin?” He hummed in response. “You cut my shirt open. What do I wear for the rest of the party?”

Seungmin stopped breathing, and then he burst out laughing, full body laughs wreaking havoc on his body. 

“It’s not funny!” You whined, but you were giggling too, slapping his chest playfully.

“You can wear the cloak, baby,” He kissed your nose. “I have clothes on underneath.”

You hummed, nodding. “You still have to wear the mask though.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” He mumbled, but he was still grinning.

“You like it.”

Seungmin kissed you again, chaste and sweet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

[simonisferal]

cry — scara x gn! reader

"maybe i'd change for you someday, but i can't help the way i feel." — cigarettes after sex

reader is oblivious, friend zoning, mentions of making out/sex (hickeys, scratches, 'his first'), angst with its own version of comfort, no feelings revealed, one-sided pining

part two of dance with me

you woke up in the morning with a huge headache.

the bed was cold and you felt as if someone else was in there with you. it unnerved you. the pillows were messed with, the blanket was fully laid on you, and the sheets were dirty. what happened last night?

the throb in your head interrupted your thoughts and it forced you to get out of bed and take painkillers. placing your feet on the cold wooden tiles and stepping away from your bed half naked, you groggily walked to the kicthen.

the hallway smelled like beer and tequila, maybe that's what you drank that made you so fucked up.

the kitchen was the small as you left it the night before. you knew yourself best and prepared a soft hangover soup. it was cold, of course and you heated it up on the stove before rummaging through drawers for ibuprofen. they were under a packet of batteries and a broken screen protector you promised to use one day.

chugging a glass of water and some pills, you set yourself a bowl. it definitely helped your aching head and nauseousness.

the living room couch was still messy, suppose that's what you get for letting some friends crash at your house. your pair of keys and a unknown wallet were on your coffee table. you tilt your head.

you eyed it as you ate, trying to figure out why it looked so familiar.

you sat up from your chair and walked towards it. it was made of leather, with a cute keychain hanging out of it. it looked like something you'd buy and match, maybe for scaramouche.

...

oh.

scaramouche was at your house. you wonder, did he take you home? did he make sure you didn't do anything stupid at the party? your head hurt thinking about it, you couldn't remember anything past a few beers. that's what you get for being a light drinker.

you open his wallet carefully and watched as small ripped pieces of notebook paper slip out. some of them were written in neat and tidy handwriting while others were in curvise. you shouldn't invade his privacy, especially after he took you back home.

you couldn't resist though. could someone blame you? picking up some pieces from the floor, you noticed a pattern in handwriting. the easy-to-read ones mentioned a romantic interest while the hard-to-read ones had poems on them. they were cute, you suppose. nothing too explicit.

you put them back in his wallet and set the leather back on the table. you'll give it to him when during your visit to his apartment.

taking some soup with you (in case your bestfriend drank too) and wallet, you got in your car and checked the rearview mirror. you had dark marks on your neck and collarbone. you suddenly felt your back hurt, it felt like someone had been clawing on your skin for hours.

what happened to you? you can't put your finger around it. i mean, it's not like scaramouche would let a random stranger do things with you, right? he took you home so he'd know what happen, right? he wasn't drunk so if you did try something, he'd stop you, right..?

you only looked away from the mirror with a frown and glared at the road in front of you.

scaramouche was surprised when he heard a knock on his door. still thinking incoherently, he opened the door. it could've been the doordash he ordered—you never know, but instead it was you.

you had no shame, do you?

you smiled at him and he felt what he felt last night again. no. he was getting ride of whatever feelings he felt for you. he refused to sense any sort of positive thing for you after last night.

"thanks for taking me home, scara." are you serious? did you really think that he took you home or was this a sick prank? scaramouche just glares at you with an unfaltering frown.

"yeah, it.. wasn't a problem." he turns his head. you take that time to look at him, his small features like his eyelashes and small eyebags, his lip piercing that felt familiar for some strange reason, and the big marks on his neck.

you were stupid enough to point them out. "i woke up with those too!"

scaramouche looks back at you with wide eyes and a pink tint on his cheeks. his mouth opened to explain but no sound came out.

"don't worry about them, they go away." he averts his gaze and walks back into his apartment. you follow him in, still curious. you tilt your head, "what are they?"

he freezes in his tracks. you pause when he does and try to see his face from behind. "..scaramouche?"

he gets out of his small trance. he doesn't look at you, only walking further into his abode. he scratches his head. "just some marks from yesterday at the party."

you shouldn't press any further, you think. you let out a sigh and sit down politely on his couch. you set down the soup you brought and looked in your pocket for his wallet. "you left your wallet at my house."

he quickly looks back at you. yep. that was his wallet, the small keychain hanging from it was his, the black leather tied to it was his, and the small paper that slipped onto his floor when you showed him it was his. he takes it from you, harshly, like he was suddenly angry with you.

"did you look through it?" he randomly asks. you stare back at him. telling him the truth would definitely reduce the trust he has in you but he knows when you lie. you hope he excuses it for a hangover. "no, why would i?" your raised eyebrow slightly calms scaramouche down and he shoves his wallet into his pocket where it belongs.

"...good." he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. he looked stressed and bothered by something. was it last night?

"can i ask you something?"

"what?"

you mess around with your fingers. "what... what happened yesterday? at the party, i don't remember anything past a few drinks." he looks down at you. he wasn't mad, or sad, or anything. that's what he wanted, right? for his first kiss to forget, for his first to be forgotten.

he hesitates. he didn't want to lie to you but he couldn't have you knowing more than what he thought you needed to. "you asked me to dance." he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

"did we?"

"yeah.. we did."

you look up at him, smiling and he cursed himself for falling in love with you. you were stupid. he was stupid. love is stupid. everything was stupid. you did stupid things and he encourage those stupid things. maybe you were the problem, or maybe he was. he already knew the answer but didn't dare to think it or say it out loud.

"was i a good dancer?" scaramouche snorts, actually looking at you with a grin. "you were horrible." he teases. you could tell it wasn't true and he could tell you knew.

you laugh and he can't help but wish he told you. told you that he loves you, properly this time. told you that he kissed you—you kissed him. told you how your tongues melted with each other's. told you how good you made him feel. told you how long he's waited to have you in his arms or him in yours.

but he can't.

"... you're a good friend." he says. his eyes falter and he puts his hands in his pockets. you grin.

"you think so?"

he nods slowly. "the best."

[nina-ya]

Hello!!! AAA okokok hear me out,

some wholesome and protective Marco X reader where the reader gets distracted and cuts her finger cooking.

With the prompts:

42- “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

46- “You’re hurt. Please just let heal it.”

Your writing is amazing <3!!!

A/N: RAINNNNNN AAAAA I am being dragged down into the Marco trenches because of you I swear thank you so much for requesting I really had a lot of fun with this!! <3<3 The prompts came from here!! Pairing: Marco X Reader CW: Mentions of slicing a finger and stitches. WC: 733 In the middle of the night, you found yourself sneaking into the kitchen, a craving compelling you to whip up a midnight snack. The soft glow of the kitchen lights encompassed the room as you gathered ingredients.

The calmness you were experiencing was shattered by an unexpected noise coming from beyond the kitchen walls. Startled, you turned your attention away for a moment, a misstep that led to the knife in your hand slipping. You softly gasped as the blade met flesh, and a searing pain shot through your finger. The knife fell from your grasp, clattering against the kitchen tiles.

Luckily, the source of the noise turned out to be none other than Marco. His concerned gaze fixed on you as he approached.

"Whoa, hey, what happened?" he asked, his voice reassuring as he closed the distance between you two.

Wincing, you grasped your injured hand, blood welling up from the cut. "I was just making a snack, and I... I cut myself," you explained, your voice laced with pain.

Marco's gentle touch cradled your injured hand, concern etched across his features as he inspected the cut. He empathetically grimaced as his experienced eyes analyzed the wound.

"This is quite the cut you've gotten yourself," he says. Leaning in, he examines the wound more closely. "Hmm, yeah, it's pretty deep. Come on, let's get out of here so I can get you stitched up."

You quickly try to dismiss his concerns. "No, it's fine, really! I can just finish this up here, and I'll be back to bed soon," you insist, attempting to downplay the severity of the injury.

A sigh escapes Marco, disappointment clouding his gaze as he insists, "Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen."

"If you loved me, you'd tell me this is just a scratch and let me be," you retort.

However, Marco's expression remains flat, his gaze unwavering. After a brief, silent standoff, you finally back down. "Okay, okay, fine," you concede, stepping out of the kitchen with Marco in tow behind you. 

After successfully coaxing you out of the kitchen, Marco leads you to a more comfortable spot to tend to your injury. He settles you down on a chair as he retrieves a first aid kit.

"This is really unnecessary, Marco," you insist, holding onto your stubbornness. "Just some gauze will do. I don't need stitches."

He glances at you, an amusement in his eyes as he responds, "I've seen my fair share of wounds. Trust me, this needs stitches."

You scoff, folding your arms in defiance. "It's just a little cut. Gauze will be fine. No need to make a big deal out of it."

Marco, however, remains unfazed by your attempts to downplay the situation. "You're hurt. Please just let me heal it," he insists, a gentle insistence  present in your voice. He approaches you with a sterile needle and thread, ready to mend the wound with the care only a skilled doctor and a loving partner can provide.

As Marco preps the needle and thread, you persist in your attempts to avoid the inevitable. "Marco, seriously, this is overkill. I've had worse, trust me," you argue, trying to reason with him.

He glances up, meeting your gaze with a soft smile. "I know you're tough, but that doesn't mean you have to endure unnecessary pain. Let me take care of you."

You roll your eyes, though a small grin betrays your annoyance. "You just like playing doctor, don't you?"

Marco chuckles, "Maybe I do."

His words soften your resistance, but you still play the stubborn card. "I'm telling you, I've survived worse without stitches."

He raises an eyebrow, "Survived, yes. But you're not just anyone. You're my person, and I want you in one piece."

You concede with a deep sigh. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you when you find out it was unnecessary."

His laughter fills the room. "I'll take that risk," He says as he starts to stitch up your wound. He lovingly lectures you about not using knives in the middle of the night, all while his skilled hands patches you up. Deep down inside, though, the both of you know that you're probably going to be in this position once more in due time, and yet he will gladly be there for you to patch up every bump and bruise.

[gepardling]

taking care of him w/ gepard.

desc. : Thinking abt washing Gepard's hair after he had a stressful day… (wc : 400)

tags / cw : sfw, gn!reader, just fluff, bath time, taking care of Geppie a lil'

○ It takes some convincing, but once you start begging him to let you take care of him, he gives in. 

○ Obviously, there are some problems arising from this; Gepard is so tall that you can barely reach his head. Not only that, but there isn't much room in the bathtub for the both of you. The shower is obviously out of the question.

○ So you compromise. Gepard takes the bathtub, and you'll kneel on the tiles next to him. Naturally, he feels bad and resists at first because "your knees will get hurt :(" but he agrees to go along with it when you ensure him you'll use a pillow. 

○ For some reason, when he actually gets to the bathroom with you in tow, he can feel his cheeks heat up. 

○ Once you've run the hot water and actually get him out of his uniform (which took way too long, his uniform is too complex), you realize what the issue is...

○ Baby boy was embarrassed that you'd see him naked :( this wasn't the first time either! He's just shy :((

○ But after he gets into the water, some of those initial nerves melt away. 

○ When you kneel down, he kinda looks at you with this anticipating expression. The tips of his ears are still burning red, and he almost has lil' stars in his eyes. He looks like a dog trying his hardest not to wag his tail ♥︎

○ You spoil his mood by pouring a cup of water over his head unannounced. Now he just looks pouty...

○ Nevertheless, he brightens up pretty fast once you start working the soap into his scalp. Your nails offer a comforting scratch as you scrub all that grime out from his last frontline expedition.

○ Now you really just feel like you're bathing a puppy. He sighs in content when you rinse his hair with warm water (so cute!) Also please make funny hairstyles on him while his hair is wet

○ Once you finish washing his hair, you massage his shoulders a little

○ Poor baby is super tense, and he probably doesn't even notice half the time bc he's so busy :( Groans a little when you work out a particularly uncomfortable knot between his shoulders, but you kiss it better for him, so it's okie ♥︎

○ He really likes it when you fluff up his hair with a towel, even though he wouldn't admit it... He's honestly just one big golden retriever who loves having baths.

[helluva-simper]

Tv static part 2

this is probably shitty but I just wanted to make sure y'all didn't think I was dead.

It was the next day. The room was dim and gray, blood was everywhere but that didn’t bother you. You stare blankly at the ceiling trying to find anything to entertain you.

“There are 750 tiles on the floor…” You mumble to yourself. Being chained to the wall was the worst, worse than your death but… not worse than this. You had an itch on your head. 

Usually when this happens you act like a normal person and scratch it but in this case, your hands were chained to the ground. 

You were trying everything but as you were trying to itch it against the wall, the embodiment of entertainment came its way. 

He walks in with his signature smile, leaning on the wall. “Looks like someone is getting needy~.” Alastor said.

You froze, slowly turning towards him, glaring. “I’m not- you freaking psycho!” He laughs. “If not then what seems to be the problem?” He asked. “Nothing! Just leave!” “Oh, you know I’m not going anywhere and if you keep stalling, I’m gonna think it IS that and-” Before he could utterly disgust you and finish that sentence you say, “I have an itch… on my head.” You jingle the chains showing that you couldn’t get it. 

“Aw, my little fox needs help from me?” Alastor mocks walking to you. “I didn’t say that. I don’t want an abusive, yandere, canabal touching my hair.” You reply trying to stay away from him, sadly to no avail. 

He grabs your chin, tilting your head. Before he could say anything you moved your head. His smile angers a bit as he grabs your chin again, tightening his grip. “Being stubborn again, I see.” Alastor spoke with a hint of annoyance in it. “The best form of entertainment, I say.” You said smirking.

As you attempt to move your head again, he pulls your hair. “Gosh darn it! Argh! Let me go you-” He covers your mouth with his hand while keeping a firm grip on your hair. “Language, my dear. I was trying to be nice.” Alastor lets go of your hair letting his fingers trail down to your neck gripping it slightly. He leans towards your ear and says, “Listen,mon petit renard. You acting stubborn was fun but I think it made you forget your place.” He says darkly. You shake your head left and right trying to get his hand off your mouth.

“You, my little fox, are a pathetic, wretched, disgusting demon who I happened to find an interest in, otherwise I would've left you to rot like the other demons. But you are still replaceable. When I get bored of you I’ll just find new ways for you to entertain me and I assure you, that’s worse than being locked up in a room.” he said. You grit your teeth in frustration, cursing yourself for the momentary lapse in judgment. Every fiber of your being screams to fight back, to break free from his grasp and unleash your full fury upon him. But deep down, you know that any resistance would only lead to more suffering.

Instead, you force yourself to adopt a facade of indifference, masking the turmoil raging within you. "Fine," you mutter through clenched teeth, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do what you want."

Alastor's grin widens at your surrender, relishing in the power he holds over you. With a cruel chuckle, he releases his grip on your neck and takes a step back, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Good," he purrs, the gleam in his eyes sending shivers down your spine. 

Before you can react, he reaches up with his free hand and runs his fingers through your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the conversation you just had a few seconds ago.

After he was done he said, “Hm, I think that Charlie is gonna be a little confused if I’m here too long. I guess our little session will have to wait for tomorrow.”

preivous HERE!!!

Tag

@deepspace-diver

@taintedgenre

[tamapalace]

Tamagotchi x Sun-Star Stationery Collection

Bandai Japan has patterned up with Sun-Star Stationery, a Bandai Namco Group company who manufactures stationery and everyday items. The collaboration delivers a bunch of adorable Tamagotchi stationery that you’ll definitely want.

First are Tamagotchi square memo pads with a window in the center so you can see through the cover which will change, listed for ¥495, available in two styles.

Second are Tamagotchi memo mini pads with a scratch resistant cover available in two styles for ¥220.

Third are Tamagotchi pocket ring notebooks which have adorable artwork not only on the over, but also on each page, available in two styles, priced at ¥660.

Fourth are Tamagotchi die-cut mini letter sets which are available in two styles, Mametchi or Mimitchi for ¥550.

Fifth are Tamagotchi die-cut sticky notes which are available in two styles featuring three characters each, priced at ¥605.

Sixth is Tamagotchi masking type, 15mm in width, four styles available, all listed for ¥440.

Seventh are Tamagotchi boxed masking seal, which feature vintage characters on colorful backgrounds, two styles available, listed for ¥660.

Eighth is Tamagotchi tile seal, which are square stickers with vintage sprites, two styles available, listed for ¥495.

Ninth is Tamagotchi big clear stickers which have vintage color characters on them with a clear background, two styles available, listed for ¥495.

Tenth are Tamagotchi ballpoint pens with plates, which are pens that feature a plate of a Tamagotchi Original, Mametchi, or a Tamagotchi UFO at the top! Available in four styles, listed for ¥715.

Eleventh is Tamagotchi clear file A4, which are greater for keeping papers protected! Featuring vintage Tamagotchi artwork, available in two styles for ¥220.

Twelfth is Tamagotchi clear file A5 3P, a larger clear file, available in two styles, featuring vintage Tamagotchi artwork, available in two styles for ¥330.

Thirteenth are Tamagotchi mini pouches, with vintage Tamagotchi character graphics on them, available in four styles for ¥990.

Fourteenth are Tamagotchi pouches with vintage Tamagotchi characters on them, available in two styles for ¥1,760.

All stationery products will be available for sale nationwide in Japan starting mid-July, 2024!

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] part 11

A month has passed since your first date with Simon. In the span of those thirty days, a lot had changed. Although some of these changes were positive, a significant majority were negative.

As time went on, you found yourself spending more and more time with Simon. It reached a point where you barely left each other’s side. At first, you were primarily hanging out at your house. When you didn’t need to get up early to go to work, sometimes even if you did, he would stay over. The two of you would spend the evenings sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, watching cringy TV shows. Curled under a large soft blanket, you would laugh and poke fun at the absurdities unfolding on the screen.

One dull weekend, when both of you had grown tired of ordering takeout, you declared you would cook something from scratch. Simon was supportive and kept commenting about how he was dying to taste your food.

“If you cook as good as you look, I think tonight’s dinner will be amazing,” he said, grinning as he leaned against the open window and smoked.

But as soon as you entered the kitchen, it was as if you were cursed. Everything seemed to go awry. While chopping the vegetables, you knocked the pot full of water onto the floor. The water spilled all across the tiles, and when you moved to clean it up, you slipped in the slick puddle and fell flat on your ass. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle as he helped you stand up and clean up the mess.

After the accident, you became flustered. No matter how hard you tried to shake off the embarrassment, you couldn’t get rid of the annoying feeling. This led you to burn all the food.

“I think it’s all ruined,” Simon mumbled under his breath when he opened one of the lids and a thick black smoke hit his face.

You dropped the wooden spoon you were holding onto the counter. You could see he wanted to poke fun at you, but when he realised, this wasn’t funny to you, he ended up comforting you instead.

Once or thrice, you even managed to convince Simon to go with you to the club. He initially resisted the idea. However, you knew what to say to change his mind, and after a bit of persuasion, he caved in.

Each time you left the club, you were a giggling mess, tripping over your feet and attempting to entice Simon to share his cigarettes. Although, he never gave you one; after one time when you snatched one from his grasp, he stopped smoking around you when you drank.

There was one week, however, when you didn’t see Simon at all. He explained he was needed at work because he had forgotten to handle some papers before going on a break. You were curious to know more, but you knew you had to keep your questions to yourself. He didn’t like talking about the military when he was with you. He told you how he didn’t want to fill your pretty little head with useless information. So, instead of bothering him with your questions, you made him promise to text and call you whenever he could.

The first day without Simon was awful. You never knew you could miss someone so much. It was strange to wake up and know that you wouldn’t see him. You spent the entire morning sulking in bed, refusing to get up. However, you couldn’t do this for the rest of the week. You decided you had to keep yourself busy, so the time would fly by faster, which is why you reached out to Mindy and Liz, whom you hadn’t seen in a while.

First, you texted them, letting them know you had missed them and that you had some news you were really aching to share. Neither Mindy nor Liz knew that you were seeing Simon. However, despite you sending them countless messages, your friends didn’t respond. You thought they were busy and will reply to you, eventually. However, after sending another dozen texts and attempting to call them without any response, you realised they were ignoring you.

What have you done to make them act this way? You had no idea. But it felt awful to know that your friends were avoiding you. Their silence was deafening, and because you wanted to talk with someone about this, your thoughts turned to Simon. He had once assured you that you could rely on him for anything, even if it was something as silly as wanting to rant about your friends. However, just as you were about to call him, you set your phone down. He was busy with work, and you didn’t want to burden him with your stupid troubles, regardless of how significant they seemed to you.

Longing for some form of familiar comfort, you found yourself standing in front of Matt’s house. He had been avoiding everyone for quite some time. However, you noticed Matt’s car parked in the garage, so you knew he was inside.

You spent ten long minutes staring at the front door, nervously fidgeting with your fingers and wrestling with your thoughts. When clarity hit you, you realised you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t stoop so low. If Matt, just like Mindy and Liz, was determined to ignore you, then you should not degrade yourself by begging for his attention... You left without ringing the doorbell, and without Matt ever knowing you had come to see him: you would not crawl back to him — he made it clear that he didn’t want to see you.

The days leading up to the weekend seemed to drag on, each second ticking agonisingly slowly. When Sunday came, once again you found yourself slumped on the couch, lazily flicking through the TV channels with your eyes glued to the screen, as you cradled a bowl of instant ramen in your hands.

The buzzing of your phone interrupted your monotony. Simon sent you a message saying he was back home and would love to see you.

The thought of inviting him over to your place crossed your mind, but you had grown sick of the four walls surrounding you and wanted a change of scenery. You had never been to Simon’s home, so when he called you, you gathered the courage to ask if you could come over. After the question slipped past your lips, there was a moment of pause as he hesitated to answer. However, when you spoke up and your voice cracked and stuttered as you stumbled over your words, he agreed to it, texting you his address after the conversation ended.

As you stepped out of the cab, your eyes scanned the house in front of you. Simon’s home was impressively big, far larger than anything you had ever lived in. The front yard was well kept, adorned with neatly cut grass. There were no flowers growing, which seemed like a deliberate choice; Simon preferred simplicity, and it was hard to imagine him spending his days on dreary tasks like tending to overgrown flower bushes.

When you heard the cab pull out of the driveway, its engine’s hum fading into the distance, you walked towards the tall front door. As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you pressed the doorbell. You were anxiously gnawing at your thumb, trying to suppress the sea of emotions within you that threatened to spill out. However, as soon as the door opened and you saw Simon, your composure shattered into a million pieces. With a choked sob, you fell into his embrace as tears spilled down your cheeks.

You have never seen Simon so worried. An expression of deep concern replaced his usual calm and composed demeanour. After wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he guided you to the living room, urging you to sit down on the couch. He did his best to soothe you, but you were sobbing uncontrollably, choking on your own tears as your body shook with each breath you took. Your vision was blurred, your eyes stung, and your chest hurt. You tried to talk, but each time you parted your lips, your words seemed to tangle with one another, leaving your mouth in a jumbled mess.

You cried and cried and cried.

As the evening wore on, the tears ceased to stream down your face and dried on your cheeks, leaving a salty residue that you could taste on the tip of your tongue. Simon made you a cup of tea, sweetening it with a spoonful of sugar and a generous splash of milk. While you slowly sipped it, he held you in his lap. His fingers caressed your hair, the warmth of his body calming you down.

He didn’t press you to speak anymore. However, your mind was in a turmoil of thoughts, which you needed to voice, so you told him what had got you so worked up.

You confessed you wanted to call him the whole time he was gone; you wanted to convey the feeling of everything unravelling in your life, leaving you lost. For some reason, you couldn’t fathom, your friends had turned their backs on you, leaving you feeling isolated and hurt. However, you didn’t want to burden him with your troubles and add to his worries.

You didn’t notice it, but there was a subtle shift in Simon’s demeanour. His muscles tensed, and his expression went blank. For a moment, he ceased breathing. It was as if he was biting on his own tongue, trying to swallow the words that dared to slip past his lips. The silence crept in, causing you to glance over your shoulder. As soon as your teary eyes settled on him, he quickly composed himself.

“I’m sorry. Truly,” He uttered, keeping his voice low; his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. Your skin was still damp from your dried tears. “I don’t know why they are behaving like a bunch of fools.” His lips softly pressed to your forehead, causing you to close your eyes. “But I will never abandon you. I promise. From now on, you have me, and as long as I breathe, I won’t leave your side.”

After he planted another kiss on your forehead, he sunk into the couch, bringing you down with him. You laid your head on his shoulder, feeling as his arms coiled tighter around your waist.

“But... I told you this once, and I will say this again,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “You should never feel the need to hide anything from me because I’m here for you. Always.”

Enveloped in his warm embrace, you nodded your head. His touch continued to soothe you, lulling you into a sleep. Without you realising it, the pain in your chest faded. Your eyes closed and your consciousness slipped away. You fell asleep in the arms of the man who made you feel safe and cared for.