#bulk glass bottles

[ajantabottles]

to buy a glass bottle click on the link... https://bit.ly/40ieMpK

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

ok. come here. do you not like vegetables? that is possibly perfectly valid. i know some of them don't taste great on their own or have weird textures. you don't have to like them.

but before you do completely write them off, here's a tip. take it or leave it. you don't have to. just a tip. look up some south asian recipes. ask your brown friends. hell, if you want tell me a vegetable you want to try cooking in a new way and i'll drop some recipes. you don't have to like every vegetable. but especially if your issue with them is the taste, consider trying some desi recipes.

[sunnyglassware]

(via Supplier 8oz glass candle jar with gradent color with 100ml diffuser bottle for home deco on okcandle.com)

[innovativesourcing]

The Beauty Behind the Creation of Glass Wine Bottles

In the world of wine, the glass that holds the valuable drink is essential to the whole experience. The sparkling beauty of glass wine bottles makes them iconic symbols of expertise and tradition.

Green glass wine bottles are an example of longevity: Choosing green wine bottles is more than a fashion option; it’s a symbol of how well the wine inside has been preserved. Each flavor of the wine is as enjoyable as the winemaker intended because of the unique green color that serves as a screen against harmful UV radiation.

Making Glass Wine Bottles with Sustainability in Mind: Currently, with environmental issues at the center of attention, glass wine bottle design is changing to reflect these eco-friendly ideas. In an attempt to reduce their environmental impact, wineries are looking into lightweight solutions and using recycled glass regularly. This dedication to sustainability is in line with the principles of responsible and quality-seeking consumers.

The Art of Glass Wine Bottle Design: Each glass wine bottle delivers its own story of beauty and fine workmanship. Each bottle is a sculpture for the vintner’s vision, capturing not only the wine itself but also the personality of the winery. The use of glass shows a dedication to quality and a desire to show the wine in its purest form.

The Attraction of Glass Wine Bottles for Advertising: Glass wine bottles serve as powerful branding tools in addition to their practical purpose. A bottle’s shape, color, and design all play an important role in identifying a winery. The sparkling beauty of a well-designed bottle on the rack could encourage customers to learn more about the wine’s history and workmanship.

Tradition of Glass Wine Bottles with Cork Closures: This beautiful combination of tradition and efficiency defines the pairing of glass wine bottles with cork closures. In addition to serving as a secure seal, cork is a natural and sustainable substance that helps in the aging process and allows the wine to develop slowly with time. A physical reflection of the vintage charm kept in modern winemaking.

The Joy of Wine Bottle Showcase: Glass wine bottles serve as items that reflect the variety of wines, places, and seasons for experts and collectors of wine. Collectors frequently take great pleasure in showing their carefully chosen collection as a symbol of their oenophilic interests, driven to the smallest details in bottle design.

At last, the design of glass wine bottles is defined by their shining beauty. Each detail, from the choice of glass and color to the finishing embrace of cork closures, is critical to maintaining the beauty and flavour of the wine inside. Glass wine bottles, whether exhibited on a shelf, served at a party, or preserved in a cellar, symbolise the creativity and skill that enhance the pleasure of drinking excellent wine. For more information on wine bottles, you can visit this Link

[packagingskunkjars]

When it comes to practicality and versatility, our 6 oz glass jars with plastic lids are a top choice. These jars are perfect for storing spices, herbs, homemade beauty products, and more. The twist-on plastic lids provide a secure seal, ensuring your contents stay fresh and spill-free. 3 oz Hexagon Glass Jars: Add a touch of elegance to your packaging with our 3 oz hexagon glass jars. These unique jars are perfect for showcasing specialty products such as honey, jam, or bath salts. Their distinctive shape and crystal-clear glass construction make them a standout choice for artisanal goods.. For more details www.skunkjarspackaging.com

[sheenland]

Amber Glass Bottles Wholesale

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Amber Glass Bottles Types

XLDFW-018 330ml Amber Glass Beer Bottle

XLDFW-019 500ml Amber Glass Beer Bottle

XLDFW-020 750ml Amber Glass Wine Bottle

Amber Glass Bottles FAQs

Are amber glass bottles durable?



Are amber glass bottles durable?



Amber glass bottles are durable and resistant to scratching. They can withstand temperature changes and maintain their appearance and integrity over time.

How should amber glass bottles be stored to maintain product quality?

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Amber glass bottles should be stored in a cool, dry place, away from direct sunlight and extreme temperatures. Proper storage helps prevent light-induced degradation and maintains product quality.

[hemantgoel]

Best Glass Bottles | Glass Carboy | manufacturer & supplier | Goel Scientific | Canada

We serve the best Solution Bottles, Amber, and Supply in BULK to OEMs up to 20Ltr. Buy Glass Carboy wide range Goel Scientific Glass Canada, USA Ontario BC Alberta

[bottlesoutlet]

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[on-a-lucky-tide]

cw: hair pulling, 141 sexcapade discussion.

"You know, I've never understood it," Gaz said, folding another hand as the cards Nik turned over on the table ruined his chance of a Full House. They'd had a few, so Gaz's brain was wading slowly towards its point when Soap folded too.

"Ye dinnae ken much, Garrick. Ye gonnae have tae narrow it doon."

Ghost raked in his winnings and then stood with a grunted, "need a slash."

Gaz scowled and flipped over one of the cards they'd been playing with before Nik could tidy it away. The set was raunchy, with depictions of busty girls in various states of undress and intimacy. The Ace of Spades had a brunette facing out of the card, her lover behind her with one hand in her hair. "Why do girls ask for this?"

"Why ask for doggy?" Soap asked, smirking around the top of his beer bottle.

"Nah, mate. The hair pulling. I've had at least two birds ask me for it. It can't be fuckin' good, can it?"

"Aye, well, I dunnae tend tae pull the freaky ones, so..."

"Alright, alright. Shut it. Nik, help me out here." Gaz looked over at their dealer, who was busy expertly shuffling the cards for the next round.

"There is a right way and a wrong way to pull hair, sergeant," Nik said.

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Da, observe." Nik placed the deck down carefully and turned towards Soap. "The wrong way is to grab a random tuft," he lifted a large palm and snagged a handful of Soap's mohawk, shaking him from side to side, "and just start pulling them about. It is wrong. Hurts, no?"

"Ah, Jesus fuck, Nik," Soap squawked, batting at Nik's forearm. "Aye. Feels like ye scalpin' me."

Ghost returned, chuckling low in his throat at Soap's bleats of protest. He rolled his bally up over his nose and took a swig of bourbon, observing the little scene he'd stumbled back in on with interest. "Li'le scrote finally run his mouth too much, Nikolai?"

"Naw, Nik's showin' Garrick how t' pull a lady's hair in bed." Soap growled, head still tilted at an odd angle where Nik had scruffed the strip of ferret fur he called a hairstyle.

"Oh yeah?" Ghost's eyes slid over to Nik, lingering on the hand that released Soap's mohawk. "G'won then, show us the proper way."

"Regrettably, the sergeants both favour the short back and sides, but yours is longer." Nik rose to his feet, matching Ghost in height and bulk. Ghost's hackles should go up, but with Nik, they hadn't in years. It had something to do with how Price was around him, Ghost reckoned. When your damn leader relaxed, you were relaxed. Like a good dog. Nik spread his hands. "May I, lieutenant? Your mask will remain on."

"C'mon, L.T. Lessee."

"I'll buy you a drink at the pub when we get home, sir."

Ghost swallowed, levelling Nik with a heavy stare. "Ya pull my hairline as far as yours and we'll 'ave a problem," he murmured, emptying his glass before placing it down on the table. When Nik stepped into space, he got a hit of expensive cologne and engine oil that sat pleasantly on the back of his tongue. Damn handsome bastard too, all things considered. Ghost tried not to scrutinise what having him so close did to his heart.

Nik's hand settled on Ghost's shoulder first and then slid around the back of his neck, careful to keep his thumb tucked to avoid Ghost's throat.

"You slide your hand up their neck through the roots at the back," he said softly, his hand moving as he spoke, fingertips sliding beneath Simon's bally to the softness of his blond hair. "And you pull upwards, keeping your fingers close to their scalp."

What was left of Ghost's soul left his body momentarily as Nik pulled. His belly did a little flip, his knees suddenly weak, shoulders rising as he sucked in a shocked gasp. The sensation that bristled over his scalp settled behind his eyes, and they rolled closed as it continued down his spine. The world screeched to a halt as Ghost zeroed in on the man before him, his instincts firing off like sparkplugs in an engine struggling to turn over. Frozen.

Nik was watching him closely, his head tilted to the side. "It should not cause pain, but it is a... mammalian response, like a cat scruffing its kitten. It should inspire a feeling of pleasure in submission."

Ghost couldn't breathe. His eyes flickered open and he zoned in on Nik's dark eyes, the fullness of his lips and the unshaven scruff of stubble around his jawline. In that breathless moment, Ghost's entire body tingled with heat and want. He could feel Nik's warmth, so close and yet not touching him at all but for the hand in his hair; a sturdy bulwark waiting to catch him. What Ghost would give to press his face into the open collar of his shirt and rub through the dark hair he could see there, while--

"'Ear that, L.T.? Ye like a big fuckin' kitten."

Soap's jibe broke the spell and Nik released Ghost's hair, stepping out of his space to return to his seat. His gaze lingered on Ghost's eyes before he turned, and for a tense second Ghost was fockin' worried he'd be outed for whatever the hell that was. But Nik sat down with a nonchalant shrug.

"Shut it, Johnny," Ghost grunted. "Don' see what all the fuss is about."

"Aye, ye tell 'em, sir. Missionary with the lights off fully clothed is the only way, eh?"

Ghost flipped Soap his middle finger and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Gonna hit the sack, long day tomorrow. Don' fuck around too late." He left the room at what he hoped was a reasonable pace, but his mind was already elsewhere, namely on the aching boner stretching down his right trouser leg. He was grateful no one could read minds; if he was thinking of Nik as he had a sad, furious and slightly drunk wank, then that was between him and god.

Nik watched Ghost's retreating back over the rim of his vodka glass, his head tilted to the side in thoughtful consideration. The embers he had watched flare to life in those somber brown eyes were unmistakable. He had seen similar in two twin baby blues only two mornings ago.

Khoroshego vam nastroyeniya i do vstrechi, Simon.

[buyglassjarsonline]

Gujarat Shopee is the biggest online platform to buy glass jars online in India. It offers a wide range of glass jars with lids, juice bottle with lid and other glass kitchen containers online at an affordable price with the lowest shipping cost.

[breelandwalker]

Magical Oil Recipes - Baneful Blends Edition

For anyone looking to brew up a potion with a less-than-friendly bent, here are some recipes I've created that you might find useful.

To prepare them, blend the ingredients in such proportions as feels correct for your purposes (or as supplies allow). Use dried material except where indicated. Place a few spoonfuls in a mason jar with a screwtop lid and fill the jar with a bland oil of your choice. (Vegetable oil of the sort you would buy for cooking works fine.) Screw the lid on tightly and shake well to combine, then leave the jar in a dark dry place for 2-4 weeks to steep.

Once steeped, prepare a clean storage bottle (also with a secure lid) and label with the type of oil and the bottling date. Strain the oil through paper towels or cheesecloth to remove the plant material, then bottle immediately. Store away from sunlight and heat for up to one year. Use for spellwork as you see fit.

(Please note that NONE of these potions are meant to be taken internally by any means. Observe all proper safety measures related to glass, fire, and potentially harmful plants as necessary during preparation.)

*- Ingredient is potentially harmful if inhaled or ingested. **- Ingredient should not be used or handled if you are pregnant or nursing.

All-Purpose Hexing Oil For general hexing, cursing, and baneful magic.

Dried Chili Pepper

Fresh Lime Peel

Lemongrass (dried or fresh)

Rusted Nail (place in bottle with finished oil)

All-Purpose Hexbreaking Oil For general negation of baneful spells cast by oneself or others.

Agrimony**

Cinquefoil

Fennel

Vervain

Solomon's Seal Root (place in bottle with finished oil)

Backhanded Blessing Oil For blessings that are anything but benevolent.

Burnt Cinquefoil

Bay Leaf

Pine Needles

Bayberry Root NOTE: Prepare as you would a blessing oil, then twist the blessing into a curse, i.e. May You Get Everything You Deserve.

Done in the Dark Concealment Oil For secrecy, confidentiality, and general deception.

Juniper Berries

Licorice Root

Black Hemp (Dogbane)

Ferns or Dried Seaweed Note: For the final ingredient, use whichever is easier to obtain. Both bracken and seaweed work well for basic concealment spells.

Eye of Newt Disruption Oil For disrupting and confounding magical efforts against you.

Black Mustard Seeds

Bloodroot**

Nettle Leaf

Garlic (1 clove, bruised)

No Rest For The Wicked Hexing Oil For punishing one's enemies.

Chili Pepper (any)

Horseradish Root

Cramp Bark

Bayberry Root

On Your Own Head Retribution Oil For counter magic and revenge hexes.

Elderberries*

Bloodroot**

Devil's Shoestring**

Vetiver

Tangled Shoelaces Binding Oil To impede someone's ability to move or act against you.

Pine Needles

Devil's Shoestring**

Scullcap**

Coffee Grounds

Iron Nail in master bottle

Wicked Witch Heavy-Duty Cursing Oil For occasions when a regular-strength hex just won't do.

Wormwood* **

Ghost Chili Pepper (or the hottest chili you can get)

Lemon Seeds

Lobelia* Note: Use With Extreme Caution And Cover Your Ass.

Witchbane Warding Oil For repelling and countering harmful spells.

Bay Leaves

Elderflower

Star Anise

Birch Bark

Should the reader require supplies, I recommend the following:

Penn Herb Company

Starwest Botanicals

Bulk Apothecary

Mountain Rose Herbs

Specialty Bottle

Image Credit - Shaiith

All recipes are (c) 2017 Bree NicGarran, published in Pestlework: A Book of Magical Powders & Oils. Please check out the book if you would like more recipes.

If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my podcast Hex Positive, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop.

[sunmoon-starfactory]

Potions A Plenty - Potion Brewing Set

Pulling from most every other set of Sun&Moon for potion ingredients, this set gives the sims the ability to brew various potions that affect moods, skills, life states, aging, pregnancy, health, and a variety of other mostly harmless effects.

The Quick Feature Review/Set Breakdown below the cut.

Download - SFS

View Use/Instruction Manual

The Potion Crafting Bench - The heart of the set itself, the potion bench is where components are stored, prepared, and combined into batches of potions. At this station, sims can do the following.

Practice potion making and brew a total of 56 potions that have varying effects when drank by sims

Earn Logic Skill and Science Enthusiasm

Stock materials

Order Supply Bundles to facilitate quicker potion making

Obtain a Writ of Mastery in potion crafting

Keep a tidy workstation by keeping things clean

A set of “basic” potions, and their ingredients will be considered REQUIRED for function. Do not remove those files. Let the manual guide you.

This set is MAC-compatible and requires Smarter EP Check, Easy Inventory Check, Easy Lot Check and Money Globals. These are HARD requirements. The set will NOT FUNCTION without these files.

Access to these is dictated by logic skill level as well as a writ of mastery/Creature Life State/Traits.

This station has 28 decorative slots, as well as a decorative mode to enable/disable effects and an "in use" look at will.

Story Mode Enabled - Skip all the ingredients and steps, just enjoy the end products, or just run the animations on a station for the ease of taking pictures.

*New Feature* - Station Cleanliness. As the station is used, it will obtain dirty points. This dirty level affects the outcomes of potion crafting and increases failure chances. Make sure to keep the cauldron clean to ensure quality products!

*New Feature* - Supply Ordering. For a flat rate, sims can buy a bulk order of various materials needed for any potion. They will be added directly to the station's crafting counts.

All potions can be found in Hobbies/Logic. Complete Dutch and Portuguese translations. If you'd like to translate into your native language, please share your strings with us and we'll update the set proper!

Inventory Tools & New Items

Botanical Book - Pretty and useful. Inventory Tool.

Writ of Mastery - Apothecary Version. Inventory Tool.

Crate of Jars - 6 glass jars needed for potion making.

Cauldron Dregs - Waste produced from cleaning the station or failing in potion making.

Bonus Items

Reference Tome - In game recipe book for all potions

Counter Split OMSP - Give maxis counters a chance to hold more things!

Display Shelves - 9 decorative slots, two versions.

Apothecary Todd Cart and Pavilion - Previously released sets bundled into this set; they have been optimized and renamed, please remove the old versions.

Potion Specifics

Potions come in 5 types: Basic, Folk Remedy Potions, Arcane Potions, Creature/Lifestate Potions, and Poison Potions. The more fantastical the potion, the more complex it is to make.

Please be aware that depending on your playstyle you will have to add more files from other sources or you can delete certain files from this set without worry; For example, if you do not play your game with creature life states or custom creature life states, you may delete anything related to those potions, provided it is not used in another “basic” potion.

Potions are NOT recolorable and will not be made so in the future. If you wish to alter the bottle/potion colors yourself, this may be done in the properties/categorized properties tab of each subset txmt in SimPe, using the stdMatDiffCoef line.

Potions Vs. Teas: You will notice that many potions have the same effects as previously released teas from the Quali-Tea set. So what’s the difference? 

Teas are based on cooking and logic skills only. Potions function more on Logic skill level and a Writ of Mastery, OR Witch/Warlock state, and other traits.

Teas are single cup per crafting interactions (except basic hunger teas). Potions will always produce in a batch of 6.

In some cases, Teas require MORE ingredients to make, whereas Potions require LESS ingredients but higher Logic skill and rarer/less natural ingredients.

While potions can have the same effect as a similar tea, more risk is involved with taking them and sims can experience adverse/opposite of intended effects.

[sonotpattismith]

Your new Sukuna fic has me thinking gym crush Sukuna, where reader signs up for a gym membership and ends up going a few weeks to work out, but staying just to see Sukuna work out all the time because awkwardness.

Sukuna assumes she’s being judgmental about his tattoos and what not and confronts her like

“You got a staring problem?”

And poor reader is all flustered and he catches on and he acts all aloof but internally he’s shocked because he’d never had a girl be interested in him (idk maybe his twin brother always outshined him lolz)

And he asks her out and she agrees and they’re just all awkward together because this giant tattooed menacing man is sitting in this tiny café with this shy lady who’s face is bright red.

down bad

pairing: gym crush!sukuna x shy!reader word count: 2.7k content: fluff, mutual pining, second-hand embarrassment if you squint, sukuna being a grumpy cutie patootie, matchmaker!jin a/n: I've never written in this format before but was TWEAKING to give this scrumptious ask something, so sorry if the pacing or anything is a little awkward :') TY FOR THE ASK ANON MUAH MUAH MUAH

gym crush! sukuna who has spent nearly every evening in the gym since he was a teenager and his twin brother told him he seriously needed to start letting off some steam on something that wasn't his patronizing classmate's face. The brooding giant would never admit to it, always claiming that the dude looked at him funny, but damn it, he was the only one allowed to make fun of the coke-bottle-lenses on Jin's new glasses.

gym crush! sukuna who found himself enjoying that little outlet of his more than he cared to admit, and had now been keeping his strict, protein-dense diet and meticulous weight-training routine up for damn near ten years now. Alongside the inches that he had sprouted up in high school, his ever-growing muscles certainly helped keep assholes away from both him and his brother.

gym crush! sukuna who's diligent and consistent efforts were clearly paying off, and you would be the first to attest to that.

gym crush! sukuna who was oblivious to the fact that he had very quickly become a strong part of your motivation to keep coming to the gym a few times a week, knowing you'd be rewarded by the sight of his glistening biceps and fiercely determined, tatted-up face as he lifted what looked to be astronomically large weights with an effortlessness that made you wonder how easy it would be for him to lift you over those bulging shoulders of his.

gym crush! sukuna who you deemed far too intimidatingly handsome to approach— not that you'd be able to summon the courage up anyway. After all, the very slim extent of your ‘flirting’ history was simply… staring and hoping whoever it was caught on eventually— not that the success rate was very high considering that unfortunately, men hadn’t yet developed a knack for mind reading just yet.

gym crush! sukuna who was currently too busy lifting a way-too-heavy barbell off of his brother's chest who insisted he could handle his twin's alarming bench-presses, to notice the far-off look in your dreamy gaze as you watched him from your spot at the leg press. Jin used to come more often with his brother when they were younger in order to keep him motivated, but his availability had become scarce since becoming a father.

gym crush! sukuna who doesn't bat an eye when his twin smiled knowingly through his pants of effort as he heaved himself off the bench and leaned in to let his larger counterpart know that he had an admirer.

gym crush! sukuna who didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Jin was referring to you, the pretty girl that had been coming in for the past few weeks and couldn't seem to maintain a poker face for the life of you. Sure, Sukuna had grown used to the shocked stares of initial onlookers when faced with his mysterious tattoos and bulking muscles, but you had taken it to a new level.

gym crush! sukuna who kissed his teeth in irritation at the sudden reminder of your unabashed judgement, shaking his head dismissively at Jin and reminding him that, "Yeah, dumbass, everyone stares."

gym crush! sukuna who had his twin about ready to rip his hair out from the roots, because how could someone so innately astute be so hopelessly blind to the metaphorical hearts swirling in your eyes as you watched the ripples in his back flex from under his compression shirt while he maneuvered the weights back to their respective shelves.

gym crush! sukuna who seeks to get his meddling brother off of his back, only trying to prove his own point when he huffs at the man and whips his head around to face you for the first time since he'd noticed your wandering eyes.

You were far too lost in your absentminded daydreaming, thinking about a version of yourself where you'd stop being such a wuss and talk to him— maybe ask him how to use a machine that you'd feign ignorance over, or to tell him that you thought his uniquely intricate tattoos did wonders to emphasize his already prepossessing bone structure.

The theatrics of your mind ran rampant, lighting each of your senses ablaze with thoughts of the way his heated skin would brush against yours, or how you'd get a chance to feel all the fruits of his strenuous labor if he'd press against your back with those statuesque, washboard abs— and, oh my god, is he walking up to you?

gym crush! sukuna who didn't give a fuck that Jin was hot on his heels, begging him not to act on whatever brash impulse that ever-present devil on his shoulder was whispering into his ear. The smaller man watched in utter horror, though seemingly unable to turn away, as his brother bared his teeth before thinking first, as was so tragically typical of him, wiping the glittering hope from your eyes as he snapped.

"You got a fucking staring problem or what?"

gym crush! sukuna who would never admit that perhaps his twin was right, the grueling realization dousing him like a bucket of ice water and draining all the blood from his face as he watched your expression fall in what he thought he was crazy for thinking was disappointment.

It was as if it was happening in slow motion, your legs gradually lowering from the machine as your mouth opened and shut in a frantic attempt to explain yourself to the stranger you'd been fawning over for weeks now. The deep crimson that began rapidly staining your cheeks surely matched the stunning shade of red that, you were now noticing from up close for the first time, swirled in his irises.

gym crush! sukuna who should have apologized, but it was too late now as you muttered out a meek apology, far too mortified to look him in the eyes again.

"N-No, I just..." Your face grew impossibly brighter, nearly blinding the now flustered man who wasn't sure how to piece back together what his quick temper had shattered. Stumbling up from your seat on the machine, you quickly squatted down to collect the water bottle you had placed on the ground. "I'm sorry."

gym crush! sukuna who suddenly felt like the big, bad wolf in every children's tale who just bared his villainously sharp teeth at the unsuspecting, bright-eyed heroine as he watched you make a beeline toward the women's locker room. His bulking arms hung limply at his sides as he blinked owlishly at your frantic escape.

"I'm not gonna say I told you so only because I don't know how much pre-workout you had before this—"

gym crush! sukuna who shoved his balled up fist into the center of his brother's chest, not hard enough to deal any real damage, but certainly hard enough to shut him the fuck up— because how the fuck was he supposed to guess that someone like you was showing any sort of real interest in him?

After all, Jin was always the one who garnered all the positive attention— what with his bright personality and nerdish charm that seemed to make all the girls at school growing up simply melt at his feet. Even now, married and officially off the dating market, his twin was always the one who got the lingering glances and giggling compliments.

All Sukuna was used to receiving were the hushed whispers of judgement and feared sidelong glances whenever he walked into a room. Women showing interest in him were few and far between, especially not delicately pretty and sickeningly sweet ones like you.

gym crush! sukuna who's guilt was swallowing him up a bit more everyday that he came to the gym only to notice your glaring absence growing more and more gut-wrenching as the days continued to blur by.

The brash nature that had protected him from disappointment for so long was now instead the root of his disappointment for once, and for the first time he was beginning to doubt himself.

gym crush! sukuna who nearly drops an unforgiving amount of weight onto his toes when he catches a glimpse of your pretty, pink workout set in his peripheral after nearly two whole weeks of your absence.

It had been an intense internal battle of whether or not you should come back or not. On one hand, the crushing mortification of having to face this man again after getting called out for your stalker like gawking was palpable and suffocating.

On a more practical note though, you had already caved and paid for the year membership to this gym that had definitely put a sizable dent in your bank account, and no amount of cringe-worthy wallowing in your own self-pity was going to excuse the amount of money you were wasting each day you didn't show.

So, when you saw that familiar head of pink hair, you immediately booked your sorry-ass to the opposite side of the gym, your heart racing far faster than you could blame on the fifteen minute cardio workout you had just completed.

gym crush! sukuna who was willing himself to come up with any opportunity to gravitate toward the area of the gym you were currently taking up, but couldn't for the life of him think of what he would say should he face you again, because sorry sure as hell wasn't in his vocabulary.

His eyes would catch yours from across the room, but you'd always make quick work to avert your gaze, that burning flush that would rush to your cheeks reminding him of his atrocious behavior each time.

gym crush! sukuna who finally spots his chance when he sees your sweet face scrunched in panicked frustration as your fingertips struggled to reach the stop bar on the leg press you were currently using. It was clear through the tremble in your thighs that your sore muscles were about to give out on you if you couldn't get this damned torture device to let up in the next ten seconds.

gym crush! sukuna who springs into action, dropping the barbell he had been hoisting over his shoulders and not giving a fuck about the alarmingly loud clang that rang through the otherwise quiet gym as it hit the floor unforgivingly.

Surely an employee would be coming by at any second to apprehend him for the improper handling of the equipment, but right now he dared anyone to try to stop him— because he could already see another sorry ass man stopping what he was doing to come help you, and Sukuna would be damned if that twig stole his moment.

Practically shouldering the audacious man out of the way, he smacked a firm hand on the press you were currently struggling to hold up on your exhausted legs, lifting the weight from your feet while slipping his foot under the stop to lock it safely back into place.

gym crush! sukuna who watched with bated breath as you finally processed who had come to your rescue, glancing frantically between him and his outstretched hand in apprehension.

"Thank you." You muttered bashfully, finally placing your comparably smaller hand into his monstrous palm so he could steady you as you stood from the machine on doe-like, trembling legs. The protective hand he placed at the center of your back for support certainly did nothing for your racing nerves.

He only clicked his tongue in response, peering off to the side as though irritated that he had to come help you. Deep down though, the pink-haired man knew that if he looked at you right now that his face would soon match your blush stricken one.

"How 'bout adjusting the damn machine before you get onto it?"

gym crush! sukuna who realized he once again spoke out of line, cursing himself under his breath as he watched you cast your eyes down to your shoes, a flustered apology spilling from your anxiously bitten lips.

"Sorry, I-I'm kind of new to this stuff, so I don't really know how all of the machines—"

"Quit fucking apologizing, will ya'?"

gym crush! sukuna who demands asks you to get coffee with him one of these days— so he could teach you about proper gym safety, of course.

gym crush! sukuna who, despite having caught on to the reason for your blubbering bashfulness, is still somehow stunned out of his goddamn mind when your pretty pink lips part up at him in shock before a timid grin takes over your once sullen features.

He gulps down the nervous lump in his throat when you nod enthusiastically at him in agreement, because holy shit, he wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him with so much sunshine behind their eyes before— and definitely not someone as out of his league as he deemed you to be.

Still, his face remained calculatedly neutral as he shoved his phone into your delicate hands to input your number into, all the while he knew he was about to have run laps around the fucking building to rid himself of all this newfound adrenaline your presence was pumping into his system.

gym crush! sukuna who looked so painfully out of place in the cafe you had suggested to him, having shown up nearly half-an-hour early and looming outside the building with all the subtly a six-foot-five beast could possibly muster when standing beside such a frilly looking establishment.

gym crush! sukuna who brushes off your unnecessary apology when you saw him waiting outside for you, lying about the fact that he'd only just gotten there a minute ago.

He doesn't miss the way you flush as he opens the door for you and leads you to the counter with a guiding hand at the small of your back in a manner that came off as so instinctual to him.

You couldn't help it though, because you'd never seen him outside of his typical gym attire, and the flowy button down he had on over his form-fitted tank top was rolled up to his elbows and emphasizing each protruding vein in his meaty arm as he pointed at various menu items in question because lord knows he had no clue what the fuck a lavender-rose oat milk shaken espresso was.

gym crush! sukuna who pointedly ignored the strange look the two of you received from the barista as she took your order, as well as the glare he got from the grandma who's table his imposing figure accidentally bumped into as he slid into his own seat across from you, along with the various blink if you need help type cautionary gazes that were being thrown your way.

You weren't paying them any mind either though, not caring about how strange you looked in your sweet little sundress, sipping on your bright, matcha latte as you beamed at the nefarious looking giant across from you— because both of you were stumbling over your words and flushing as though right back in middle school, and neither of you were quite sure what you'd done to land yourself in this position.

gym crush! sukuna who you were quickly realizing, was not very good at asking for things as he ordered you to begin working out with him instead— y'know, so you didn't risk hurting yourself on one of the machines again totally not because he'd noticed the way other men in the gym had a tendency of letting their eyes wander on you while you were too busy looking at him to notice.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who had always rolled his eyes at the people posing for pictures in the gym mirror, now donning a proud smirk of his own as he snapped a picture of his reflection, theatrically flexing his biceps as you stood in front of him, a good head and shoulders shorter as you mimicked his pose with an adorably determined expression.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who could only roll his eyes when Jin was the first to comment on his post: told you so.

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[hemantgoel]

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[leviathanleva]

Cujo

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Supersoldier!FemReader

Description: A monster in human skin, a weapon disguised as a person, no thoughts, no emotion, as per design. He despises you and everything you stand for. He’s tried to kick you out of his squad and failed, he’s made it his mission to break you no matter the cost.

It comes as a surprise when he asks you to lie and say you love him.

[5k words]

[Angst, Smut, MDNI]

Chapter 5 "Meringue Kisses"

Late that night, you’re skulking some distance from his door, hidden in the shadows and only occasionally the moon cruelly reveals your habitation.

A bottle of bourbon is nestled under your armpit, a peace offering after having left his heavy words hanging in the small infirmary room you’d been stationed in. Cruelty was something you’d been taught to bestow upon enemies but was forbidden towards comrades. Technically you were going against your orders by just walking away.

But wasn’t it also cruel to lie and let a dear one live an illusion?

He’d stayed by your bedside the entire time, you knew, you could smell him alongside the orchids he replaced every day. It could be viewed as either sweet or obsessive, but he’d been there for you and the least you could do was apologize for bailing on him.

But what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

“I’m sorry for ignoring your advances and walking out on you when you basically confessed your love?”

You weren’t trained for such a situation. You were a battering ram, not a love counselor. Yet out of everyone, Ghost sought you out for comfort, somehow found solace in your presence and the more he did the more that small guilty spark in your chest grew and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You trudge forward, abandoning your shadow-soaked post, and knock on his door before reason has a chance to pull you away.

Simon answers silently, you hear only his lazy heartbeat and then the lock click before he’s standing in front of you clad in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a tee far too tight for his bulk. Alcohol is pungent on his breath, it invades your nostrils even through his mask. Besides that, the bloodshot eyes that are barely open and the slumped shoulders tell you a sad story you doubt he wanted anyone to see.

A frown tries to form on your lips at the wreck he portrays, but you will it away. Instead, you blink up at him and thrust the bourbon bottle high in the air, practically in his face.

You’re facing away now, embarrassed by your stingy excuse for an apology, but you didn’t know what else to do. The Lieutenant didn’t have many hobbies you could add to. You couldn’t buy him a new book or a knitting set, a puzzle or…anything really.

He gingerly takes it from your hand, thick fingers wrapping around the base and making the one liter of poison and glass look like a small water bottle.

You take him in fully then – the callouses, one too many for a man of his age, the scars on his exposed arms, the little blond hairs that gleam in the moonlight because it’s so late that most lights at base are off, the bare feet and small strands of light brown that stick out from under his mask because he’d slipped it on in a hurry.

It was a cold night, colder than most, you noted the way his inked skin blossomed into goosebumps.

“I’m sorry.” You force the words out instead of contemplating them, take a step forward instead of turning away to leave.

That had been the initial plan, gift him the bourbon and leave. His mental instability wasn’t your duty to tend, plus you were technically under his command. He was supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.

But he looked pathetic past the usual stoicism. You’d risked your life for him, it would be a shame to have pulled him out of death’s way only for him to drink himself to unconsciousness because of a stupid unrequited crush. You were doing him a favor, just making sure he was alright, nothing more. As a good soldier, you had to show sympathy towards comrades.

So when he leaves the door open and retreats back into his quarters, you follow him with a small sigh.

“Don’ need to be sorry for nothen’.” You hear him rasp somewhere in front of you in a voice like sandpaper.

The room is musty, the air is stale, and the only reason it’s tidy is because he has almost no belongings. In a way, it reminds you of your own room. It’s sad, maybe you should have gifted him a small plant to keep him company on the long nights he spends cooped up in here and unable to sleep.

Maybe you shouldn’t be here at all…

“To hell with it” You think bitterly. Enough hesitation, this was unlike you.

No lights are on, and shadows cluster around the bench press and the wardrobe, which you’re sure barely holds any clothes aside from tactical gear. You understand his dislike for the light. It would put his misery on display and might welcome unwanted visitors. He didn’t want any company or for his woes to be visible.

You can relate, in a way you do the same. The light is too blinding, holds none of your secrets.

You wait for him to set the bottle down next to the half-empty one on his coffee table, then you speak.

“I want to see your face.” The words flow past your tongue like silk, it surprises both of you, how soft your tone had become, as if you were afraid of waking up someone, maybe your sense of wrongness, because this was in fact wrong to be here with him and ask for such things. “Then I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

It wasn’t a lie. You were willing to make a deal if only to make him happy.

Since Simon refused to simply order you to sleep with him, you’d found another way to grant his wishes with hopefully minimum guilt on his end.

You’d do as he asked despite how unprofessional it was. Fraternizing was frowned upon, especially between two soldiers of the same squad. You swallowed your sense of loyalty to your superiors, gave a big “fuck you” to the rules and orders.

It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but it was something you’d hastily strung together while on your way here. You’d debated whether you’d even bring it up because it might add more salt to the wound, but it was too late now.

Seeing him like this was…uncomfortable. You wouldn’t stand for it.

Ghost was the only one who showed you kindness, who believed there was still something human living somewhere in the depths of your mind. He deserved you, deserved the world.

And you believe in him, had faith that if you still beheld emotions, he’d find a way to dig them out and you’d let him keep them for himself.

And if nothing came out of this, then you’d at least tried. You were fine with both options, but he wasn’t and as long as he wasn’t satisfied you’d bend over backwards to find an alternative.

Anything for him…

“Love me for a night.” He says, pleads and steps closer to you, so close your breaths mingle. There are no warnings that what resides behind the mask isn’t pretty, there’s no pushback against your part of the bargain. He’s already laid himself bare before you, the mask had been pulled off a while ago.

“You know I c – ” You begin, but he cuts you off shortly.

“ – Then lie.”

He’s already pulling his balaclava off when you nod in silent agreement. Despite your compliance for once, he still looks exhausted, utterly drained to the bone.

You’d expected more excitement on his part, but this would do just fine.

You see the rugged features and battle scars, the light stubble and slightly crooked nose briefly before he’s kneeling in front of you. He presses his forehead against your belly, wraps his meaty arms around your thighs and pulls you close enough to bury his nose in your top and inhale deeply.

“Jus’ lie t’ me, ye?”

You rest your hands on his scalp while he breathes you in thoroughly, comb your fingers through his short hair, and tug gently to ease the headache he’s no doubt nursing. You pity him in a way, even though the choice to love you was his and he knew the consequences. Yet can one really control who their heart desires?

You wouldn’t know, your heart was chemically altered long ago.

So you indulge the desperate soul as best you can. Willing and yielding, you’ll let him feast on your flesh and drink from your blood until he was sated, no matter how long it would take. You’d endure this for him, for what hound didn’t want to please their master?

Your body was made of stone and toxins, cold and strong and deadly, but you believed in his ability to find a softness hidden there…somewhere.

“I love you.” You feel him coil around you like a python the moment those three little words leave your lips. And you continue to gently pet him, coax him to let go and shatter between your fingers, for once let himself feel, you wouldn’t stop him.

There’s a silence that follows, a crippling weight along with it that you won’t break as long as he didn’t voice that he wanted you to. You could stay like this all night if he needed it, he only had to ask

“You lyin’?”

“Yes.” You nod to the darkness, staring down at his light brown tuft of hair, playing with it gently before your fingers slip down to his ears, massaging them briefly, then slithering to his chin.

You raise it so he can look at you, offer him your best smile and the most vulnerability you can muster.

There’s so much pain in those whiskey-colored eyes, it’s a heartwrenching sight. He’s so torn between letting you go and getting what he wants because finally you chose to succumb. A battle rages behind his heavy eyelids, one he doesn’t let slip past the battle-scarred features. But you know him too well, you’ve delved past his mental barriers many times, and there’s not much he can hide from you.

You coo down at him and it’s scarily human, unbelievably believable.

“I love you.”

He stutters for a moment, and spurts out something you couldn’t quite make out. Contemplation weighs heavy on his face, makes his forehead litter with wrinkles, and his brows lower until they shadow over his eyes.

“Keep lyin’.” He murmurs and is on his feet in a second, picks you up like you weigh nothing before slowly carrying you to his bed.

You’re stuffed among the thin sheets and pillow before he crawls on top of you and lets his weight sink you further into the mattress. He’s heavy and warm and you feel your body melt beneath him as he nestles comfortably on top of you.

The smell of tobacco and his cologne surround you along with that distinct aroma of sleep, it all makes you relax, taut muscles turning to jelly. You barely find the energy to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down. His stubble attacks your face, grazes cheeks and chin alike as his alcohol-dried lips press against yours in an uncertain kiss.

He hesitates still despite your willingness, almost acts shy in his gentle, feather-like pecks over your still mouth. You lock your lips together, try to encourage him as you nibble at his bottom lip.

Eagerness slowly burns away whatever doubts he has and he’s on you like a man starved, licking and sucking, dominating your mouth as the bitter flavor of bourbon stings your taste buds.

A rumble comes from deep in his throat as his eyes squeeze shut and his rough hands slip beneath your flimsy top to study the flesh beneath. You shudder under his touch and are quick to roll the both of you over, breaking the kiss in the process.

It’s not about you tonight, you can’t be slouching around and being pleased when your master was the one in dire need.

Good hounds always please.

You bunch up his tee until it’s gathered around his neck, toss it off as soon as he lifts his heavy head. It’s somewhere on the floor, discarded while you’re on a mission to tend to every inch of him you can reach. Lips latch onto his neck, sharp canines teasing the skin as your tongue runs laps over his pulse and pulls the most satisfying, meager grunts you’ve heard anyone emit.

Your eyes glint in the darkness, menacing, the orbs of a predator, and Simon has a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to run. You’ll eat him alive, you’re not human, for once he’s the prey. But he can’t will himself to move an inch, instead he lets his hands slot on your hips and pulls you closer as you lather his skin in lovebites.

He was willing to be just another meal for you if only he gets to touch you for as long as he’s conscious. Devour him if you so wish, he’ll go down a satisfied man.

“Thas’ it, pretty girl.” He manages to rasp out between pants. “Mark me all ova’.”

You don’t disappoint, moving from his neck down to his chest, your tongue never drying because you’re salivating at the mere sight of him bared and broken under your weight. You pepper his abdomen in kisses, nuzzle the tip of your nose against the fuzzy trail starting from his belly button and disappearing under his waistband. His stomach sinks with a shuddering breath as you glide your palm over his hardened cock, noting how it’s straining against his sweatpants already and wanting nothing more than to be set free.

Your eyes dart up to see a disheveled man biting back moans the more you massage him through the thick fabric.

“Can I?” You ask, but you’re already tugging his pants down to reveal a leaking tip begging for attention.

“Jesus fuck – ” Simon barely manages to gasp as your tongue greedily licks up the sticky precum running down his shaft. His hand is in your hair, blunt nails digging into your scalp and a purr blossoms inside your chest and transfers straight to his groin.

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like, Lieu – ”

“ – Simon.” He manages to choke out before you finish, and for a moment you're frozen.

Your head rises, tilts slightly like that of a confused pup before you’re slowly and delicately crawling over him.

“Simon.” You hum softly and press a single, sugary kiss to his lips before you descend again. “My Simon.”

And he wants to cry because you’re hammering nails into his heart.

A good liar, liar, liar. Liar!

That’s all you are. A bloody good liar. He needs to remind himself, chant that sentence like a mantra as you tenderly trace your mouth over his cock before lathering it in saliva and letting it sink down to your throat.

His toes are curling as you suckle on him with scary precision, with a masqueraded need that feels so real he keeps forgetting you’re only doing this because he wanted you to.

He watches with batting lashes and lazy blinks as his girthy length disappears in your pretty mouth, lips wrapped perfectly around him, like you were made to be drooling over him.

And maybe you had been before the changes. Maybe you were his soulmate, but he’d been too late to find you.

He’s mesmerized by the twinkling canines that are so close to the pulsing veins on his shaft, yet you don’t let them cause any damage. You’re caring and careful and devoted to him completely. He likes the danger, the risk, your tenderness despite your nature. It makes him feel special in a way.

You chose him as a master, you’d rebelled for him, risked your life for him. It was slowly pumping through his blood, the fact that you were ready to do anything for him.

When you take him down to the hilt and cup his balls he nearly doubles over.

“Bloody h-hell, woman.”

You pause and look up at him with a spark of anxiety to your usually solemn features.

“Bad?”

He snorts at the question and pats your head reassuringly before picking at a stray strand of hair and twirling it around his finger. A tiny leash, even now, to guide his dog in the right direction.

“No.” He mouths and lets his head fall back against the pillow. “ ‘s good. Keep goin’.”

You’re spreading his thick, scarred thighs farther apart, nestling comfortably on your belly before you start to ease him back into your mouth, throat relaxed, taking all of him in.

“Good girl…” He breathes out and lets his eyes flutter closed.

Fuck everything. If he had only one night where you were willing, he’d fight off all his taunting thoughts until morning.

A small moan, so tiny he might have missed it if he wasn’t so enthralled by you, echoed in your throat and caused his whole body to shudder. His grunts stop, the praises also and the gentle head patting falters.

His eyes crack open and he glances down at you.

“Do tha’ again, luv.”

You moan again on command, louder, more prominent this time. It reverberates down his cock and he nearly cums on then and there.

A sweet symphony gifted only to him, honeyed noises that are meant for him alone to hear because you’ve been his from the very beginning. Precious little thing you are, all powdered sugar and poison ivy. He’d rather die to your venom than live a day without you by his side.

And the worst part is that you know all this, but you’re a good hound, you don’t take it for granted. You’re grateful for anything he gives you.

Just having him is enough for you.

Mewling sounds rain down on him, salving over every thought, every scar, he drowns in them, letting them linger in his ears as you work your tongue over his tip and swallow every drop of precum that oozes out. His free hand is clutching the sheets so tight the threads are straining not to rip under the pressure. His bottom lip is imprisoned between his teeth, bruised at how harshly he bites down on it to keep quiet.

Simon doesn’t realize he’s bucking his hips up in tune with your mouth and writhing beneath your steady hold until you release his cock from your bittersweet torture and settle on his thighs like a woman victorious.

“You’re ready.” You mumble more to yourself than him and he watches as you toss your top somewhere on the hardwood floor. Your sports bra follows after and you’re bare before him, breasts exposed and nipples hardening from the low temperature.

You’re quick to discard your bottom as well and are about to mount him before he grips your waist and still you, the tip of his shaft brushing against your entrance, pulsating with need and swollen red.

You give him a quizzical look and his brows furrow.

“But you ain’t.” Simon grunts. “This ain’t just about me, luv. Not gonna use you like tha’.”

You shake your head at him in disapproval and try to take him in your dry heat, but he won’t budge.

“I don’t need to be.” You protest.

His skin crawls at the thought and he’s quick to roll you onto your back and cage you between his large upper arms.

“Want you to enjoy this too.” He says with so much softness it makes you whimper and cling to him as if the mattress will swallow you whole. He brushes his nose against yours and steals a brief kiss. “You make me feel good. I make you feel good, ye? Want this to be mutual. As much as possible.”

When he tries to slide down to your core, you clutch at his hair and stutter out excuses. Panic twinkles in your eyes that aren’t the emotionless wholes that bore into his soul just a few hours ago. There’s more to them now, a kind of uncertainty he’s not seen before and to which he’ll cling like a drowning man to a straw.

“Trust me.” He soothes and continues down, kissing along your breasts and brushing his lips over your tummy. He spreads you open and comes to face your neglected sex, then glances up at you one last time. “If you don’ like it, I’ll stop.”

He’s not gentle in his mission to please you. It’s all greedy slurps and teeth and a relentless tongue that drags over your clit. Everything he does is a desperate attempt at awakening a spark in you and the more he pushes the faster a knot surfaces somewhere deep in your belly. His fingers slip past your folds and stretch your tightness, reminding you that you can still feel pleasure. He pumps them inside you lazily, first one, then two and once you’re dripping down his palm, he adds a third and has you wailing.

Your trembling thighs come to squeeze either side of his head to muffle his hearing because your moans aren’t imitations anymore. He’s starved for the noises spilling from your lips, languid sighs of his name and whispered pleas to keep going. Torn between feeling your strong thighs cutting the blood flow from his ears and humming along to your meager whines, beckoning you to produce more and feed his bottomless hunger.

“Let go f’ me, pretty girl.” He rumbles, words slurred by the evergrowing slickness he’s smearing over his stubble. “Tha’s it.”

You’re trying desperately to wiggle away from him, the heat in your cunt is unbearable, pulsing and aching and it’s been so long that you don’t remember what follows next.

But his grip on you is iron and you’ve not the strength to detach him from his pursuit.

You come undone beneath him, shatter in his hands, scratching at his back and shoulders viciously as his name flows past your lips in a chant, accompanied by a slew of moans and curses. There’s beads of tears gathering at the corners of your eyes and threatening to spill.

He emerges to kiss them away, terrified that if he voiced their existence everything would be over, the spell would break. Instead, he coos down at you as you tremble in his arms and whimper incoherences up at him. He’s gentle now despite the ache between his legs, lowers himself down on you and squishes you to shush your pleas of confusion. He’ll be your safety blanked, a weighted, warm, rugged blanket that will always be there at your disposal, you only need seek it out.

He feels your cunt pulsing and drenched when he presses the tip of cock to it, grinds against it to coat himself in slickness.

Despite your spent state, you’re still willing to please, wrap your legs around his thick waist faithfully and push down on his lower back with the heels of your feet. He eases into you with care, gazing at you watchfully for any signs of discomfort even though he knows you’d rather die than sacrifice his pleasure for a bit of pain.

Your breaths come out shaky as you adjust your hips and spread your thighs wider, trying to accommodate to his bulk.

“Bloody fuckin’ Christ…” Your name follows along with a handful of unsavory words as he patiently fills you, shallow thrusts and clenched teeth as he holds himself back. “So tight f’ me. Perfect f’ me, luv. Fuckin’ heavenly…”

He’d prepped you thoroughly, both with tongue and fingers, and it was still a snug fit. You wrapped around him like a sleeve, choked his cock with your hot, mushy walls that sucked him in greedily every time he tried to pull out a bit.

“Greedy li’le cunt you got.”

“Your cunt, Simon.” You manage to choke out in between heavy breaths and meek whimpers. But your patience runs thin, you want to be ravaged and he’s taking too long, so you thrust your hips up and take what part of him still wasn’t swallowed in sinful tightness. “Don’t spare me. I’m no virgin.”

His tip smushes against your squishy cervix and your eyes roll back as he snarls like a beast and becomes taut.

“Fuck!” He hisses and rolls his hips once, twice, bruising your soft insides with his girth as your wetness squirts out and covers his inner thighs, slicking the curly hairs there because there’s just no more fucking room inside you.

He goes for your neck and settles for a steady pace, barely managing to move his cock with how desperately your core sucks him back in. His teeth sink in your tender flesh, leaving marks and then soothing them with apologetic flicks of his tongue.

Your nails are drawing pictures of red on his back and you’re begging him to be rougher, to give you more, all of him. Then you stop because he’s scarred enough as is. You flatten your palms over his mass instead, trace his spine delicately, and move in toon with him, letting him bury himself to the hilt, until his pelvis presses against yours.

He’s panting in your hair, there’s already a thin sheen of sweat coating his body and making him glow in the moonlight like a battered, fallen angel.

You kiss along his shoulder, run your hands wherever you can reach, wandering over his body and memorizing everything in your path.

Loving promises slip past your kiss-bruised lips as his pace quickens and you’re being forced farther into the bed with every hurried thrust.

He’s groping you with bruising need, practically crushes you beneath him until only your feet are exposed to the cold. The room fills with the sound of your sloshy sex, your pleas and his grunts, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and a creaking bed that’s barely supporting both of your weights. Your ears feel hot and your heart thrums with every breathless call of your name that escapes him in between bites.

Knots are coiling in your belly again and you’re calling out to him without a second thought. It feels natural, instinctual.

“Simon, please, love…”

His pace becomes brutal, he’s all fangs and guttural growls as he forces himself inside you, too lost in his pleasure to care anymore. Because your little pussy is heaven to him, wants him so desperately, pulls at him with need, takes him all in even though he’s too big for you.

“Good girl. So good…My good girl. Pretty girl. Fuck!”

Your back is already arching before his mindless praises start. You scream, vocal cords straining and he clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle your ecstasy as you convulse beneath him in pure bliss. You clutch at his arms so tightly there are bruises forming under your fingertips but neither of you cares.

“Gotta be quiet, pretty girl…Don’ want anyone hearin’ those sounds but me, ye?”

You’re clamping down on him at that, a pool of slickness leaking from your core, down your ass, and pooling over the sheets. But your pleasure is short-lived when you feel him start to pull out, fully intending to finish himself off by hand.

You snarl up at him and your legs turn to stone around him, forcing him back inside. His head tilts up at you, desperation in his wide eyes because he can’t quite comprehend that you’re giving him such freedom.

“No.” You command and he would have protested but he’s so close that he whines at you instead. His movements become slopping, his fingers digging into your flesh and making it bulge. “Fill me, fill me, fill me…”

“Fuck..Fuck..Fuck!”

Lightning surges up his spine, makes him arch briefly before he’s curling over you, nearly suffocating you beneath his bulk. His grunts culminate in a raspy moan as his cock twitches inside you, coating your pretty pink insides with spurts of hot sticky cum. Your name zips past his teeth, lingers in the air until the next chant. His balls tighten against your ass as they empty themselves inside your waiting womb.

He fills you to the brim, trembles in your arms, collapses with a huff and his pants collide with the side of your neck as he struggles to catch his breath. Only slips his cock out when it softens and lets his cum ooze onto his bedsheets, uncaring for the mess.

“You okay?”

You glance up at him through heavy eyelids and nod before curling into him willingly. His breath hitches at your unexpected gesture.

He’d thought you’d simply get up, dress and leave, job done. Instead, you wrap a leg around his waist and snuggle up, selfishly stealing his warmth and letting your eyes close. Your arms are tucked between your bodies, fingers spaced out and pressed against his skin, nose buried into his collarbone and inhaling deeply.

Wordlessly, he tugs the covers over your bodies, gets comfortable and slips an arm under your head.

How long until the spell fades? When is the end of your lies?

He doesn’t want the answers, but for the sake of his sanity, he needs them, and too afraid to ask, he lies there silently, eyes wide open and staring at the top of your head as you drift off to sleep against him like this was your usual ritual, like you did this every night.

“I love you.”

It pierces the darkness, strikes right into his chest and he swallows a lump that threatens to choke him.

“Are you lyin’?”

He needs to know, needs to harden himself because it’ll be all over soon. If you were planning on prolonging your torture over him, he wanted it to end. He’d had his fill, this was enough, you were free. You could just leave.

Simon felt guilty enough as is, without you bestowing more on him, he didn’t deserve all this. He didn’t need more pity –

“ – No.”

<<< Chapter 4

Masterlist

[on-a-lucky-tide]

They're humping in the shower in under 3k.

cw: draft; comphet Price being very gay about Nik.

"Nik,” Price gasped, drawing in a stuttering breath at the feel of Nik’s hard cock against his palm. Nik thrust his hips slowly, sliding himself through Price’s grip, and Price watched as his foreskin slid back and forth over his glans, precum smearing over it briefly before being washed away by the shower.

God, he needed it. He just needed. He wasn't even fuckin’ sure what it entailed. Not like he'd had any education in it and his fool arse hadn't watched anything but straight porn. He'd never admit shortcomings to anyone else; it was a matter of pride that he was good in bed. But he had no idea where to start with this buffet of a bloke that had been his best mate for years, and he couldn't even entertain the possibility of fucking it up. “Nik, show me… please, fuckin’ ‘ell, show me, I'll… show me how to make you feel good,” he spluttered.

Nik smiled gently before kissing Price gently on the lips, his big hands settled on Price’s hips and guided him backwards towards the glass divide, but the shock of cold against Price's back didn't come, because Nik placed his hand just behind him as a buffer. He twisted, reaching behind him to a small bottle Price hadn't noticed previously. Oil-based lubricant. 

“Your hand,” Nik asked, and Price proffered his palm. Once Nik had filled it, he placed the bottle aside and gathered both of Price's hands around their cocks, sliding them together. A choked moan broke from Price’s chest. He'd never seen a sexier fuckin’ sight; their crowns pressed close, drooling with arousal, and the silky heat of Nik's shaft felt mind-blowing. Nik kept his big hand clasped over Price's as he rocked his hips, finding the perfect pressure. “John, da…” he growled, and Price glanced up from staring open mouthed at their pricks grinding together just in time to see the flutter of Nik's eyes. “Da, just like that.”

Nik gently nudged Price’s feet apart so he could shift a little closer, the slow, graceful roll of his hips providing the perfect friction. They were out the main jets of the water, and soon precum was spilling over Price's hands as pleasure hummed through his hips. Nik kissed him, and Price’s head fell back against the glass with a dull thud, soft moans breaking past the seal of their lips. Price was mindless with bliss, pinned by the warm bulk of a man that set his blood on fire with want. As Nik's free hand wandered from his hip to squeeze the curve of his arse cheek, Price hummed softly, tensing a little as those strong fingers wandered to the sensitive skin of his cleft. 

Nik left his lips to nuzzle through his beard. “Relax, solnyshko. I will not hurt you.”