#chemicals in condoms

[agreenroad]

FDA Claims Condoms Are Medical Devices, So They Do Not Need Ingredients List - List Of Toxic Chemicals Found In Condoms

Are there any restrictions on purchasing condoms? What chemicals are found in condoms? What are the benefits of condoms? Who regulates condom manufacturers? FDA SAYS CONDOMS ARE JUST MEDICAL DEVICES, SO THEY DON’T NEED INGREDIENTS LIST Jannifer Gao  @Jani__Gee I think I would like to deep dive this. (Did you know that condoms are classified [and thus regulated] as medical devices by the…

[finchers-ipad]

save me fight club website

[aleximustdr4w]

Holiness is a punishment that must be taken with hands folded

Fandom: My Chemical Romance

Pairing: Frerard

Summary: Frank has a secret that needs to get out of his chest, while Gerard, the local church's priest, will be more than glad to show him the way to redemption.

Content Warning: religion, blasphemy, SMUT & (some) BDSM!! keep out of minors. (or read it anyway, im not your mom. youve been warned tho)

Word Count: 4.8 k

Also on AO3

A/N: been having this idea in the back of my mind since I saw gerard dressed as a priest. Sorry if they seem out of character or it's not “lore/timeline friendly” but its my first time writing about them and I find their dynamic very... uhm, fascinating. (Loosely set in the early 2000s)

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Illustrations & moodboard made by me <3

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Frank sighed, after making the sign of the Cross and closing the confessional door behind him with shaky hands.

The man kneeled down. There was a pause where the walls of the booth felt like they were about to fall down Frank's shoulders. All could be heard was his heavy breathing. He grasped the crucifix of his rosary around his neck in his sweaty palms.

The reverend waited patiently on the other side of the grid that separated them.

"It has been... a long while since my last confession." Frank swallowed. "These are my sins. Well, my sin." He folded his hands, with the cross between his fingers, still.

Another pause where Frank felt like he was being buried alive.

“I can tell your heart is in turmoil.” The Father broke the silence in a soft voice. “What happened?”

“I... I have feelings for another man.” The sentence finally burst out of Frank's lips like he spat out a handful of nine inch nails. He couldn't discern the pastor's expression, but he could tell he was shocked from the movement of his shadow under the yellow light that illuminated that cramped place.

“You have to help me, Father.” Frank continued, his eyes welling up tears. “I don't want to be led into temptation.”

The priest let out a sigh. “Frank, do you mind if we speak face to face?”

“Uh... no, I don't.”

Frank found it difficult to look Father Gerard in the eye after what he had just told him. But, after all, the priest was there on purpose to keep his misdeeds a secret and provide him guidance.

“How long...” The Father tapped his fingers on the hardwood, his gaze wandering. “How long have you been feeling this way?”

“About three months.” Answered Frank, drying up his tears with the jacket's sleeve.

“And does he... know about your feelings for him?” This time the priest looked at Frank.

The man struggled to get himself to glance at Father Gerard in the eye for more than a split second, but he forced himself to raise his head. The priest's green eyes were kind and understanding.

It all started three months ago, when Frank saw him celebrating the first mass of his mandate in town. What caught Frank's attention was the fact that Father Gerard would always wear a leather jacket, his joviality, and how the reverend's eyes would light up during his sermons, which really captured the true meaning of the Lord's word, in a way that no other preacher could do. That's when Frank realized Father Gerard was no ordinary priest.

And that's also when Frank began feeling the proverbial butterflies in his stomach when he had to get ready to go to mass every Sunday: he couldn't wait to go listen to what the priest had to say about that day's gospel and every time he felt like his mind had been opened wider and wider.

As time went on, Frank realized what was happening. He fell into a crisis, throwing himself into intense prayer, relying on the saints for advice and asking God to forgive him, trying so hard to deny the feelings he was developing for the reverend. He stopped going to mass and to confess, in the hope it would've helped his heart forget him, but it made matters even worse, to the point of madness.

“I don't think so.” Said Frank in the end, his eyes watery. “I've been praying to forget about him.”

“You don't need to forget about him.” Smiled the pastor, reaching for the man's hands. “God makes no mistakes: you have to accept your nature, because you were made to His image and likeness.”

Father Gerard's hands were warm and soft, bringing a comforting sensation through Frank's whole body. He felt like Jesus Himself was holding his hand. “But... isn't homosexuality a sin?”

“Don't listen to anyone who says that. They're just charlatans who speak just to give air to their forked tongue.” The pastor looked away for a moment, his brow furrowed. “May Saint Francis Assisi be with you.”

“Th-thank you, Father.” Frank murmured, wondering what the priest had to live through to make him say that. He's really like no other...

“Well,” Said Father Gerard, looking at his watch, “looks like your time is up–”

“Can I meet you after the evening mass tonight?” The words spilled out against Frank's will. “There's something important I have to tell you.”

With a bit of hesitation, the pastor nodded. He traced the sign of the Cross in the air with two fingers. “Go in peace. For now.”

The rectory's door closed with a loud thump behind Frank, while Father Gerard secured the lock.

“Welcome, welcome!” Said the pastor cheerfully, making room for the man to come in.

Frank looked around: the place was decorated with vintage dark wood and long, sumptuous curtains. It was a chilly November evening, so the fireplace was lit, giving the living room a pleasant, comfortable atmosphere. The priest removed the man's coat and hung it on the rack before motioning him to sit on the couch, where Father Gerard soon followed with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

Frank watched the pastor pour the reddish liquid with elegant movements.

“The blood of Christ.” Chuckled Father Gerard, offering him the glass.

“Are we allowed to joke about this?” Asked Frank with a confused smile, before taking the cup.

“Well, I am a priest. I have the right to joke about it.” The pastor smiled again, letting himself fall on the sofa.

They both laughed, raised the glasses and took a sip.

Frank couldn't dare to look Father Gerard in the eye, concentrating his gaze on the wine. “I haven't been completely honest with you.” He eventually broke the silence with a shaking voice.

The pastor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, perplexed.

“I-I... Oh, Jesus...” It was too late to turn back now. Frank swallowed in his dry throat. “The man I love is you, Father Gerard.”

The priest stared at him, his mouth half open in shock. “Frank...”

"I..." The man let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry." His voice choked up, and his eyes misted.

“I'm afraid this changes things.” Father Gerard's eyes darkened. “Desire for a man of the cloth transcends sin.”

Frank felt his heart sink and his whole face flush. A knot in his throat was forming, making it hard to speak, like in those nightmares where you want to scream and shout for your life but you feel like your mouth has been stitched shut. He lowered his gaze.

“That's why I want to show you the way to redemption.” Continued Father Gerard, a smirk crossing his face.

Frank looked up. “What... Do you mean?”

The priest's fingers moved to Frank's cheek, making the man's heart rate rise, unable to glance away. The lighting from the fire made Father Gerard's angelic features look more marked, giving him a sinister look.

God, this can't be happening...

As the pastor came closer, he looked up for a moment, whispering something about forgiveness and sin: Frank didn't understand what he said because of the blood thumping in his ears. But before he could process what was going on, Father Gerard's lips touched his.

The kiss lasted for what seemed hours. So much in fact that Frank, when the priest detached himself from him, was left breathless.

“So this is your idea of redemption?” Managed to ask Frank, in between wheezes. “Making things worse?”

Father Gerard blew air out of his nose in amusement. “You have no idea how I could make things way worse for you.” He cupped Frank's face in his hands. “You have no idea.” He repeated, stressing the last words.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “I would like to see you try.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” the man came closer to the priest, “I would love to see you try making things worse.”

Even Frank didn't know what happened to him: what was this newfound confidence and will to submit to sin? Was he drunk after just a sip of wine? Was Gerard the Devil himself in disguise and was he trying to possess him? One thing was sure, he was completely bewitched by the pastor at that point.

Father Gerard let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.”

“If I don't know, would you show me?”

The priest hesitated for a second, but eventually got up and grabbed the man's hand: “Follow me.”

Frank heard the door close behind him, followed by a latch lock. The bedroom was very modest and ordinary, with a large crucifix above the bed and a desk in the corner filled with stacks of books and papers.

“Frank,” Began Father Gerard, putting his leather jacket on the chair beside the wardrobe, “do you trust me?”

The man, who was busy looking around, turned his head to the priest. “Father –”

The pastor raised a finger. “It's just Gerard to you, now.” He corrected him, throwing the clerical collar behind.

Frank nodded. “Of course I do, Gerard.”

“Very well.” Gerard smiled, walking across the room, reaching for an old-looking dresser that he pulled out from under the bed. It opened with a click after he inserted a key in a rusty lock.

That's when Frank's internal alarm started going off. While Gerard was rummaging in the dresser, looking for God-knows-what, the man thought of taking the opportunity to sneak away, but then he remembered he was locked in there.

“Ah, there it is!” Exclaimed Gerard, getting up soon after with a studded leather collar – wait, was that a ball-gag? – in one hand and a length of rope in the other.

Frank swallowed at the sight of them. Yep, I'm in danger.

“Don't give me that look!” Laughed Gerard, moving closer. He reached for Frank's neck with the collar, but the man dodged him.

“I'm not gonna put that on.” Protested Frank with a grimace.

Gerard came so close to his face that their lips almost touched. “You have no choice on the matter, sweetheart.”

That felt like a spell was put on Frank: his knees got weak and his heart started beating so fast, his head started spinning.

“Be a good boy...” Gerard nearing his lips against Frank's ear.

Those words went down Frank's spine like an electric shock. Something clicked in the back of his head. “S-say it again.” He swallowed.

Gerard chuckled. “Be a good boy for me...” He whispered, then he pressed his lips against the other man's neck, which made him inhale sharply.

All the thoughts about the fear of sinning went out the window as soon as Frank reached for Gerard's lips and they united in a ravenous kiss. They pulled each other closer with fingers running through their hair and exploring their bodies under their shirts and eventually Frank's one fell on the ground.

Gerard caught the occasion to press a hand on Frank's shoulder to make him fall on his knees, guiding him down without detaching himself. “Fold your hands.” He said eventually, while getting up.

Frank, who just realized he was kneeling, looked up at Gerard like a lost dog, but did as he was told.

“Our Father, who art in heaven...” Gerard began chanting, while wrapping the rope around Frank's wrists.

“...Hallowed be thy name.” Continued Frank, his eyes fixed on Gerard, in complete adoration. “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven...” He swallowed, feeling Gerard's breath on his naked skin. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...” Gerard had just tied the knot with a tug. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

“Amen.” They both said in the end, before Gerard leaned in for a kiss.

Gerard's lips were soft and radiated warmth across Frank's shaking body: now that he had a taste of what he craved and yearned for months, he couldn't get enough.

“I think I had a dream like this once...” Murmured Frank once their lips separated.

“Oh yeah?” Gerard's eyes lit up. “Tell me about it.”

Frank felt his whole face flush.

The other's smile widened. “You're so cute when you blush.” He pinched Frank's cheek.

Frank couldn't help but feel humiliated over the fact that Gerard had this much control over him now, but what shocked him the most was the realization that he liked it. He had the nerve to provoke him earlier, but now that he had met his match, he immediately turned into a beaten up dog. And he enjoyed being Gerard's little puppy, all his to tease and torment.

“I, uh... This is so embarrassing, but...” Frank swallowed. "One time I dreamed that... I was confessing my sins, while... Uh..."

"Yes...?" Insisted Gerard, picking up a tick book from the desk pile.

"How do I put this... while..." Frank's gaze shifted from the pavement to the ceiling. "I was giving you... pleasure." The final words poured out of his mouth like a river gushing from its banks.

Gerard raised his head from the book to stare at Frank. "What kind of pleasure are we talking about?" He inquired after a pause, approaching closer to the other, who was making himself tiny by pressing his shoulders against his body.

“You know damn well what I'm talking about.” Scoffed Frank after a while with half a smile, suddenly gaining up the courage to talk back. Gerard already had him tied up; what's next, he was going to take his dignity?

Frank felt a burning ache on his cheek before realizing Gerard had smacked him across the face.

“Pride is a sin. You should know that, Frank.” Gerard's expression went dark; a sinister smile curved his lips while he grabbed Frank by the neck.

Frank was now forced to look Gerard in the eye. “Lust is a sin, too.” He managed to say, through gritted teeth. “You act like you'll be my savior, but you're no different than me.”

Gerard narrowed his gaze, raising an eyebrow. “Want me to show you?”

“What... are you... waiting... for...?” Frank struggled to speak.

“You just can't help yourself from being a little shit, huh?” Gerard tightened the grip,coming closer to his face. “I'll make you regret every decision that led you to this.”

“What if... that's exactly... what I want?” Frank was finding it really hard to breathe.

“Then there's no hope for you.” Gerard's lips touched Frank's.

Frank was beginning to feel lightheaded, his face turning blue.

“Having trouble breathing, huh?” Gerard smirked, squeezing a bit more. “Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you go.”

Frank tried to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

“What's that? You want me to choke you more?”

Frank shook his head, beginning to fear for his life. “I beg you, Gerard... P-please let me go...”

“Hmm...” Gerard lifted his gaze to the ceiling, as if to think about it.

Frank squeezed his now teary eyes shut. “Please, I'll be a good boy!” His voice was nothing but a whisper. “I promise...”

Gerard finally let go of Frank's throat.

Frank coughed and gasped for air, collapsing on the ground.

Gerard leaned over him to caress his hair. “You poor thing...”

His condescending tone got on Frank's nerves. The man shot him a death stare, while trying to pull himself up by the elbows.

“Aw, that look again?” Gerard leaned over him and inclined his head. “Don't act like you're not enjoying yourself.” He nodded at the man's crotch with a grin.

Frank looked down, unaware until then of his erection, visible through his jeans. He instinctively closed his legs, his face turning red and his body becoming stiff.

Gerard let out a giggle before helping Frank get up on his knees again. He caressed the man's neck with his fingers and tongue.

Frank didn't know what to think anymore: how could Father Gerard be both his butcher and savior? How was it possible he not only accepted, but wanted to be treated like a dog by him? He looked for Gerard's lips to suck on, to which the other responded with nibbling on his neck, where there were still the imprints of his fingers, where it hurt. Frank let out a soft whimper.

Shit...

How did we get to this...?

Gerard smiled, picking up the bible that he left at the foot of the bed earlier, without stopping kissing and biting Frank on the neck, lips and cheeks. “I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit...” He began reading, “You heard my plea – Do not close your ear to my cry for help!”

Frank nestled his face on Gerard's shoulder, kissing his neck, inebriated by his scent.

“You came near when I called on you; you said – Do not fear!” Gerard continued with heavy breath, but maintained his composure; he emphasized the last sentence, just like when he'd read the Lord's word during mass. He paused to sit on the bed, unbuckling his belt.

“You have taken up my cause, O Lord...” Gerard grabbed Frank by the hair and guided him to his lap; the other didn't waste any time, proceeding to unzip his pants with his teeth, noting that not only Gerard had already a hard-on, but he was also not wearing any underwear.

Frank turned up, as if in search of approval.

Gerard flashed him a smirk, shoving his face between his legs; then, he continued: “You have redeemed my life...”

Frank tasted Gerard in his mouth before he realized it, which was... different that what he expected, but then again, he never gave head to another man before, so who knows what he was hoping for. He managed to take it deep in his throat, stayed in that position for a bit, then he quickly pulled back, breathless; but that didn't stop him from lapping Gerard's shaft and kissing his tip soon after.

“You have seen the wrong d-done to me, O-Oh, Lord... j-judge my cause...” Gerard was beginning to stutter, to breathe heavily. “Y-you have seen all... their vengeance... O-oh fuck...” He inhaled sharply, throwing back his head.

Frank looked up for a second: with his languid eyes and half-parted lips, Gerard was the closest thing to a divine apparition he'd ever seen.

Gerard smiled at Frank, grabbing his hair and instructing him to keep going in between wheezes, as the other went down on him hard and fast, bobbing his head up and down, drooling all over the ground.

Frank felt the grip on his hair getting tighter and tighter, realizing he let out groans every time. Gerard, in the meantime, was becoming a mess, panting curse words, exhaling his name and praising him.

Frank refused to take a break until he felt Gerard's warmth running down his throat: the load was thick and plentiful, to the point that part of it spilled out on his lips and on the pavement. He detached himself before licking his lips.

Gerard, who watched the whole scene in astonishment, raised Frank's head by the chin, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“That's the...” Frank finally caught his breath.

“The Holy Spirit.” Continued Gerard, promptly.

They both burst out laughing.

“What I meant to say,” Clarified Frank while Gerard helped him get up, “is that this was my first time with a guy.”

“Really? I'm guessing it's your first time with a priest too.”

“Well... It doesn't happen often, that's for sure.” Frank moved his hands towards Gerard. “Would you kindly...?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I'm not done with you.”

The last bits of a smile that Frank had got wiped away from that single sentence, eyes wide. “Excus – ?”

The man didn't have the time to finish the question that Gerard was already behind him: his warm hands on his naked skin gave him the shivers for the temperature shock. “C'mon, it's only fair, don't you think?” Gerard whispered in his ear, his right hand wandering from his chest down to his waist and finally unbuttoning his jeans. “And... the confession is not over...” He continued, kissing and licking Frank's cheek.

“What do you me–?” Gerard pushed Frank on the bed, joining him soon after, straddling him.

“Hi.” Said Gerard after a pause, his face inches from Frank's.

“H-Hey...”

Gerard planted his lips on Frank's.

The other kissed back, trying so hard to move his head forward to taste as much as possible of Gerard's mouth; he would've grabbed his hair and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms and legs around his shoulders and waist and grind against him until he couldn't take it anymore and have him inside him, but all he could do was stay still, completely blocked by Gerard, who was running his fingers, tongue and teeth all over his body, which drove Frank crazy, making him a panting and groaning mess.

Gerard gently moved Frank's arms upward with one hand and put the other inside his pants. A grin spread across his lips while a moan escaped Frank's mouth.

Gerard began motioning his hand up and down Frank's shaft, slowly at first, then increasingly faster, while watching the man lose control of his own body, squirming and breathing heavily. “So, about the dream... Care to tell me now?”

“I... I was sucking you off while confessing my sins to you.” Frank blurted out, in between pants, diverting his eyes from the other man. “We were in the confessional.”

“And did you enjoy it?” Gerard grabbed Frank by the chin to force him to look at him in the eye, his other hand continuing to jerk Frank off faster and faster.

“Uh-huh...” The man admitted. “I... I touched myself to that. Many times.”

A smirk crossed Gerard's face. “You're so nasty...”

Frank felt a familiar tingle running through his body. “Yes I am, Gerard. I am a sinner.” That's the moment he sprayed his cum all over Gerard's hand.

Gerard brought his fingers to his mouth to lick them, crossing Frank's gaze and grinning.

“Uh... Gerard...?”

“Yes?”

“I want you inside me...”

Gerard shot a glance at him, visibly caught off guard. “Are you sure?”

Frank nodded, his eyes closed and his cheeks red. “Make me holy...”

Gerard blew out air from his nose, lying his face against Frank's shoulder blade. “Well... Since you're asking so nicely...” He gently pulled down Frank's jeans to the ankles, kissing and biting his skin until he arrived at Frank's inner thighs. “It's gonna take a while,” Warned Gerard, after lifting his head and placing his hands on Frank's knees, to spread his legs. “And I'm out of lube, too...” He added, more as an out-loud thought.

“Can't you spit on it?”

A short pause.

“You really want me to fuck your ass, don't you?” Gerard chuckled.

“I just think you're the right man to take my virginity.” Said Frank, giggling as well.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. No one's better than a priest at that.” Gerard talked back, spitting generously on his hands. “At least you're sure no one's gonna know it, huh?” He took position while lubricating himself. “Ready?”

Frank nodded.

Gerard carefully penetrated him, trying to be as slow and gentle as possible. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“A lil' bit.” Informed Frank, “But I like it.”

A groan escaped Gerard's lips as he went inside, leaning closer to cover the man's face in kisses as he motioned back and forth.

Frank closed his eyes, letting himself drown in the affection and pleasure that was given to him and searching for Gerard's lips to suck and nibble on in turn. “F-faster.” He murmured at some point.

“Hmm, what did ya say?” The other smirked, narrowing his gaze.

“Faster, please.” Frank swallowed, speaking more clearly.

Gerard gradually accelerated the rhythm, as Frank arched his back more and more at every neck kiss, every touch of the waist, every stroke of his erection, moaning louder and louder. “You're... So... Pathetic...” Exhaled Gerard in Frank's neck, in between three powerful strokes.

Frank let out a whimper of a wounded dog, making Gerard go even harder on him while Frank pulled him closer by locking his legs around his waist, to which the other responded by biting and sucking on Frank's skin near his shoulder blade that bruised almost immediately.

Their breaths harmonized as Gerard threw his head back. “I'm... I'm close...” He informed in between wheezes.

“Me too.” Frank nodded in turn.

Gerard kept going faster, his grip on Frank's waist tightening, while panting and cursing. As they both came – one inside and the other all over his own chest –, he stopped, his eyes wide open just as his mouth. He let out a loud groan after a second and leaned close to Frank, with a satisfied smile on his face.

They united in a final, desecrated kiss.

“Wow. Just... wow.” Gerard fell on the bed beside Frank, extracting a cigarette from a packet. “I haven't had this much fun since seminary!”

Frank giggled at that but didn't feel like investigating further, thinking that maybe the questions he had were better left unanswered for now.

Gerard lit up his cigarette. “Wanna take a drag?” He asked, looking at the man, after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Frank gladly accepted: “Thanks,” he said taking a pull, “I forgot to buy some before coming here.”

“Now that you smoked my cig, you're my bitch now, y'know?” Smirked Gerard, as he took the cigarette from Frank's hands.

The other raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was very clear that I am your bitch now. Y'know, since you fucked my ass.”

Gerard let out smoke from his nose, amused. “You're right, you're right.” He flickered the cigarette to make the ash fall on the tray on his bedside table, observing the hickey he gave Frank on the shoulder. He reached out to touch it. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes. Everything.” Replied Frank, rubbing his wrist.

“Sorry, I might got carried away –”

Frank raised his hand. “It's okay.” He smiled. “I don't mind the pain.” As long as it was you.

Gerard gave Frank what remained of the cigarette and moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, while Frank, dragging smoke, put his head on Gerard's chest.

“Was I a good boy?” Asked Frank after a while.

“The best boy.” Said Gerard softly, kissing his cheek.

“Have I earned my way to redemption?” Frank asked again, looking at the other.

Gerard shot a thoughtful glance at the crucifix. “I think so, yeah. Three Hail Mary's and you're good.”

They both laughed.

They stayed in silence for what seemed a long time, until Gerard let out a yawn and got up from the bed.

Frank stood up as well, threw away the cigarette butt, then he looked for the rest of his clothes.

Gerard helped him get dressed up. “Oh wait –” He traced his finger up on Frank's chest, picking up a drop of cum. “I know for a fact this doesn't come off clothes easily.”

Frank put the other's finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Gerard observed him with bewilderment in his eyes.

“What's that look about, huh?” The man shot a glance at him, presenting his best shit-eating grin.

Gerard let out a chuckle before leaning over to kiss him.

As Frank was buttoning his shirt and wandering around the room, he moved closer to have a peek at the notebook left open; in front of him was a freshly inked portrait of a man with his same haircut: long, black bangs and red side-shaves; he had red eye shadow and crosses drawn on his eyes. The lines of the illustration were thick and the colors used were bold, reminding him of the action comics he'd read as a kid.

“If you're wondering,” Explained the other, “that's not you. Well, at least not entirely. I like to take inspiration from people I see around me, and make... characters out of them.”

“This is awesome!” Commented Frank, brushing his fingers on the paper, afraid to ruin it.

“You want it? I can give it to you. Here, let me sign it.” Gerard picked up a marker, scribbled his signature near the portrait, took off the sheet from the notebook and gave it to Frank.

“Thank you so much!” Frank moved his gaze between him and the drawing.

“Thank you, Frank.” The other smiled, after giving him one last tender kiss.

As Frank walked home, he couldn't stop glancing at the artwork, imprinting a wide smile on his face. He sighed, as the same thought that he had before repeated in the back of his head: Father Gerard really is no ordinary priest.

[pathogenicmaterialization]

That's it that's the post

[mycrushon]

frank iero chewing on a condom.

[scientific-tricorder]

I just rewatched this episode the other day, and there are just so many other options aside from kidnapping two members of the crew and cloning them against their expressed will.

If they've managed cloning, then surely they can do IVF; they could have the crew donate gametes, which would alleviate fears about being copied and could potentially increase overall genetic diversity even more.

Swabbing cheeks would also have been just as good of a way to collect the DNA for cloning as the whole harvesting cells from the stomach as well, as well as being safer and probably more likely to be agreed to. (I think they were trying to hit on some of the adult stem cell types with that whole bit, but for the digestive tract, you'd find those as crypt cells in the intestines instead, and while success rates are higher with undifferentiated donor cells, that's in terms of a more embryonic scale and there's no advantage to using adult stem cells versus somatic cells)

Just thinking about that one episode of TNG where they come across a planet of clones where they're suffering genetic degradation from too many generations of cloning, so they request genetic material from the crew to keep their population viable and Riker just says no categorically, because of course no one would *ever* volunteer for *that*, and they just don't bother to like. Poll the crew to ask if any volunteers are willing to take a cheek swab or whatever to prevent this civilization from dying out. And it wasn't even the dumbest thing in that episode, because it was also the one where the Enterprise picked up a bunch of 19th century Irish stereotypes, together with their pigs and chickens and so forth, and also Riker slept with one of them because of course he did

[gremlingottoosilly]

König baby trapping his online girlfriend on their first meeting in person.

Now, it's not like you wanted to fuck him on your first real date. You're a good girl who knows about the rule of three dates and how to not be a slut on the internet - and in real life, kinda, too. You aren't entirely sure what the policy is if you already had at least ten dates in various games and video chats where you already saw his dick more times than his face. It should count, right? You're not a slut, you're just...a bit assertive. Maybe not that confident. Definitely really, really into him and you wanted to meet for the longest time, but just didn't had time and everything felt so weird at first, so you just began to... He is just so tall in real life, you feel weird even looking at him. He is cooler than he was describing himself before - for starters, he really is huge. Gigantic. Muscular and bear-like, it didn't surprise anyone when you basically jumped on top of him in the first few hours of finally seeing him in person. No one could blame you - he is handsome, rough, and kinda extreme. You finally saw the guy who was showering you in money for the past few days and, really, you don't want to miss out on anything from that experience. You need him carnally, and your lack of dating experience allowed him to go past your alarms when he asked if you really wanted to use the condom. He said it's really hard to achieve orgasm while wearing something as restricting. He said he doesn't really like the feeling of rubber on his cock, and that he is way too big for this. Honestly, his cock does look a tad too big for a condom. You weren't on any pills, but he said it's fine - there is not a chance you'd get pregnant from just one time. He is sure he is like 80% infertile from the service chemicals. He will pull out. Buy you a morning-after pill just in case. The feeling of his cock filling you up with cum is just too much to bear, to be completely honest. You wouldn't exchange it for anything - you love it way too much. Want him to cover you up completely, to take you with him...little did you know that it's literally his plan. When you text him in panic, saying something about missing your periods and asking about the possibility of pregnancy, he would just tell you he is totally fine with being a father. Was preparing his whole life for this. Already bought you a ring and started working on a nursery in his house...oh, you're moving in with him, by the way.

[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Domestic Chaos | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I guess mention of sexual activity and condoms

Summary: Fluff, Comedy | Draco navigates through muggle life with the love of his life.

Word count: 8966

author's note: I am so sorry that this request took so long. But work has been hell before the holidays. Now that I have some time off I managed to finish it. I hope you like it! @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy

The first week of living together with Draco Malfoy had been… an adjustment, to say the least.

You smiled to yourself as you wandered down the stairs of your new house, recalling the mix of chaos and charm that came in the start of sharing a home with Draco. Moving in together had been a big step, one you hadn’t expected to take so soon. But after months of navigating your relationship between your cozy Muggle world and his pristine magical one following your graduation from Hogwarts, it only made sense to create a space that was truly suited for the both of you.

Granted, the transition had been smoother for you than it had been for him.

Draco, for all his poise and pure-blood grace, had little to no experience with Muggle life. Your enchanted house—a quirky blend of his velvet armchairs and your mismatched cozy furniture—reflected that perfectly. It was a home where magical portraits coexisted with photo frames from your favorite vacations, where your television and laptop shared a shelf with his collection of ancient spell books.

It was perfect. Except for the moments where Draco had done his best to interact with Muggle appliances.

The faint sound of muffled clattering pulled you towards your kitchen, curiosity outweighing your desire to get yourself a hot mug of coffee. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you padded down the hall toward the kitchen. As you stepped through the doorway, you froze, your grogginess instantly replaced by disbelief at the sight before you.

The dishwasher, a seemingly harmless Muggle machine, stood wide open. Inside, dishes were arranged in what could only be described as abstract art. Draco stood in front of it with his wand drawn, muttering incantations under his breath. A suspiciously green, bubbling potion had been poured into the detergent slot, and—Merlin help him—a set of silver goblets that were very much not dishwasher-safe glinted proudly from the bottom rack.

“Draco.” you said carefully, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t flinch, though his wand froze mid-air. “Using this infernal contraption you insisted on bringing into our home.” he replied, his tone clipped.

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. Our home. The words still gave you butterflies.

“This ‘infernal contraption’ is a dishwasher,” you corrected, stepping closer. “It cleans dishes. Without magic. That’s sort of the point.”

Draco huffed, a faint pink tinting his pale cheeks. “Well, it’s doing a poor job of it so far.”

“Probably because you’re trying to curse it into submission.” You peered into the dishwasher, your eyes widening. “Wait. Is that—oh my God, Draco, is that the antique goblet from your mother’s dining set?!”

He glanced at the goblet, then back at you, feigning innocence. “What? It needed cleaning.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s over 200 years old! You can’t just throw it in a dishwasher!”

“Well, I certainly can’t hand wash it,” he said indignantly, crossing his arms. “Do you know how much trouble the preservation charms require? It’s exhausting.”

“Then maybe don’t drink wine out of a priceless artifact?”

“Then maybe don’t serve wine in cheap glass cups,” he shot back, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “It ruins the wine taste…”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, fine. Touché. But seriously, what is this… potion?” You gestured to the green, bubbling mess in the detergent slot.

“It’s a universal cleaning tonic,” he said proudly. “Far superior to whatever chemical nonsense Muggles use.”

“It’s not even liquid! It’s oozing! You can’t put that in a dishwasher!”

Draco frowned, glancing back at the machine as if it had betrayed him. “So what’s the proper way, then?”

You sighed, grabbing the small box of dishwasher tablets from the counter. “Watch and learn, Pure-blood.”

With a sigh you carefully removed the bubbling mess he had poured into the detergent slot. Draco watched with a mix of curiosity and mild indignation as you wiped it clean with a paper towel.

“This,” you said, holding up one of the tablets from the box, “is what you’re supposed to use.”

Draco tilted his head, eyeing the tablet skeptically. “That tiny thing? How could that possibly clean anything?”

“It’s designed for this, Draco. It dissolves in the water and works its magic—well, not literally, but you get the idea.”

You slid the tablet into the designated compartment and snapped the dishwasher closed, pressing the buttons to set the correct cycle. “And this,” you added, pointing to the buttons, “is how you actually start it. No wand required.”

Draco’s expression was unreadable as the machine hummed to life, its rhythmic sounds filling the kitchen. After a moment, he muttered, “It still seems unnecessarily complicated.”

“Complicated? You were about to duel the dishwasher,” you teased, crossing your arms.

Draco smirked, his signature smugness returning. “And I would’ve won.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you leaned against the counter. “You’re hopeless.”

Before you could say more, you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and his breath tickled your neck.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice softer now, “but I’m learning, aren’t I?”

You snorted, tilting your head slightly as you felt his lips brush against the curve of your neck in a featherlight kiss. “Barely,” you teased, though your tone lacked the bite to make it convincing.

Draco chuckled, the vibration of it humming against your back. His kisses trailed lazily along the side of your neck, his hands tightening ever so slightly around your waist. Just as you began to melt into his warmth, a sharp, electronic beep shattered the moment.

Draco froze, his lips pausing mid-kiss. “What in Merlin’s name was that?” he asked, his voice tense and laced with suspicion.

You laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “That’s just the washing machine.” you explained, finding his baffled expression entirely too adorable. “It beeps when it’s done with a cycle.”

Draco frowned, glancing over at the machine as if it were an intruder. “Why does it need to announce its accomplishments? It’s not as though I announce every time I complete a task.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure about that? Because I distinctly remember you declaring victory the last time you hung up a picture frame.”

Draco scowled, though the faint pink creeping back into his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “That frame was enchanted to repel nails. It was a triumph,” he muttered defensively.

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Draco,” you said, still grinning, “the Muggle world is going to kill you at this rate.”

He grumbled, tightening his hold around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. “Life is unnecessarily complicated without magic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with indignation. “Why would anyone willingly choose this… process over a simple charm?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Maybe because some of us didn’t grow up with the luxury of a wand to fix all our problems?”

Draco pulled back slightly to look at you, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “You’re saying you willingly endured this madness? What kind of resilience do Muggles possess that I’ve clearly been deprived of?”

“Patience!”

Draco scoffed, stepping back just enough to look at you. “Patience is for people with time to waste,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

You rolled your eyes, slipping out of his arms and heading toward the counter. “Come on, your Highness,” you said over your shoulder, pulling open the breadbox. “Let’s see if you’re capable of making toast without burning it.”

Draco followed you with a mock-offended expression. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of operating a toaster,” he declared, though his hesitation as he glanced at the machine suggested otherwise.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, smirking as you slid a couple of slices into the slots. “Here, I’ll start it for you. You can handle buttering them when they’re done. Think you’re up for the challenge?”

Draco leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re underestimating me again, love. I’ll butter the toast so flawlessly you’ll weep.”

You snorted, turning to grab plates from the cabinet. “Sure, let’s call that your triumph of the day.”

As the toaster clicked and the smell of warm bread filled the kitchen, Draco busied himself setting the table—his version of setting the table, which involved summoning everything with a flick of his wand and arranging it with the precision of a dinner party.

“You do realize breakfast doesn’t require formal presentation, right?” you teased, sitting down as he placed a perfectly folded napkin by your plate.

Draco smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Just because it’s breakfast doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reached for the now-popped toast, applying butter with such deliberate care you half-expected him to use a ruler for even distribution. Shaking your head with a soft smile, you rose from your seat and quietly grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it with fresh coffee from the pot on the counter.

The warm aroma filled the kitchen as you set the pot down and returned to your chair, savoring the first sip in comfortable silence. Across the table, Draco finished buttering the toast and waved his wand casually, sending the coffee pot floating over to his side. It tilted gracefully, pouring a perfectly measured amount of coffee into his mug before settling back in its spot on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of your cup. “So, pouring coffee is too much effort, but you’ll put on a show buttering toast?”

Draco looked up, his expression far too smug. “Presentation matters, darling. Coffee is utility. Buttering toast is an art.”

You snorted, biting back a laugh as you leaned back in your chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and giving you a sly smile, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Debatable,” you shot back, though the way your lips twitched betrayed the truth.

As the two of you ate, the quiet hum of the dishwasher filled the air, mixing with the faint clinking of dishes and the comforting warmth of the morning. You couldn’t help but think that, chaotic as it was, life with Draco had its charm.

Halfway through breakfast, Draco cleared his throat, setting his mug down with a deliberate clink. “By the way,” he said nonchalantly, brushing a nonexistent crumb from his sleeve, “my parents have asked to visit for dinner this evening.”

You froze mid-sip, glancing up at him.“Tonight?” 

This wasn’t the first time Draco had invited his parents over since you’d moved in together, but it never got easier. The Malfoys had made their opinions about his choices abundantly clear. The arguments had been frequent and heated when Draco first announced his decision to move into the Muggle world. Dating mudblood, as Lucius had so delicately put it during one particularly venomous conversation, had been a sore point from the start. The disdain in their voices, though carefully masked in your presence, was never far from the surface. Still, Narcissa had tried to keep things civil, at least outwardly. Her maternal instincts, perhaps, outweighed her prejudices. Lucius, on the other hand, had never fully hidden his disapproval. The sideways glances, the veiled barbs—it all painted a clear picture. They saw your relationship as a deviation, something temporary that would inevitably pass. And yet, they remained fairly cordial in front of you, no doubt for Draco’s sake. Tonight’s visit felt like yet another test, one you were determined to pass—though it always left you walking on eggshells.

Draco nodded, as if this were the most natural announcement in the world. “Yes, tonight. Around seven, I believe.”

You blinked, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “Right,” you murmured, your mind already racing. “I’ll need to go shopping today before the shops close, then.”

Draco frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Shopping? Whatever for?”

“For dinner, Draco,” you replied, standing to gather your plate. “We don’t exactly have a stocked pantry suitable for hosting your parents.”

As you moved toward the sink, he waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just send a house-elf to take care of it.”

You froze, staring at him over your shoulder. “Draco,” you said slowly, turning back toward the table, “We don’t have house-elves.”

He blinked, as though the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “We don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly, placing your hands on your hips. “They don’t exactly come with Muggle homes, you know.”

Draco leaned back in his chair, a look of mild bemusement crossing his face. “Strange. Well, no matter—I’ll ask Father to send a couple over for the day.”

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You’ll what?”

He shrugged, as if this were a completely reasonable solution. “I’ll write him after breakfast. It’s hardly a problem.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again as you tried to formulate a response. Finally, you shook your head, rubbing your temples. “Draco, we are not borrowing house-elves from your dad.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because,” you said, sighing as you sat back down, “this is our home. I’m not dragging house-elves into it every time we have guests over. I’ll just go shopping, make a nice meal, and that’s that.”

Draco looked at you as though you’d just suggested cooking dinner over an open flame. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you replied, sipping your coffee again. “This is how Muggles do things. Welcome to the real world.”

For a moment, Draco looked as though he might argue, but then he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he said, his tone begrudging. “But I’m coming with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “To the grocery store?”

“Yes, to the grocery store,” he said, his expression a mix of determination and distaste. “If I’m going to endure this… experiment, I might as well see how it works.”

Smiling, you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “Alright then. I’ll go get ready.”

When you returned a short while later, Draco’s gaze immediately fell on the several empty shopping bags you were holding. His brows knitted together in confusion, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply followed your every movement with the intensity of someone trying to solve an unspeakable mystery.

You set the bags by the door and reached for the keys to the house, slipping them into your pocket before pulling on your shoes. Draco’s confusion deepened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to leave,” you said, nonchalantly tying your laces.

Draco raised a perfectly arched brow. “And how exactly are we planning to get there? Apparition or Floo Powder?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Neither.”

“Neither?” he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief.

“We’re walking,” you said matter-of-factly, straightening up and grabbing the empty bags.

Draco blinked, his expression torn between incredulity and exasperation. “Walking? Why on earth would we walk when we could be there in seconds?”

“Because,” you explained patiently, “the shop is close by, and it would be weird to just appear in the middle of it. Muggles don’t take kindly to people popping out of thin air near the frozen food aisle.”

Draco stared at you as if you’d just suggested climbing a mountain for fun. “This is madness,” he declared.

You laughed, patting his arm as you opened the door. “Consider it part of the full Muggle experience.”

Still grumbling under his breath about the absurdity of it all, Draco stepped outside with you, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he scanned the street. “Walking,” he muttered again, shaking his head. “What will they think of next?”

You only smirked, knowing the real fun was yet to come. Draco laced his fingers with yours as you stepped out into the crisp winter air, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots. He pulled you closer as you walked, his warm breath visible in the cold. The streets were lined with houses adorned with twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, and the occasional snowman standing proudly in a yard.

“I could’ve taken the car,” you said casually, glancing up at him, “but I don’t think you’re ready to experience traffic yet.”

Draco gave you a pointed look, though his lips twitched with faint amusement. “If it’s anything like the stories you’ve told me, I’d rather not risk my sanity—or my temper.”

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s probably for the best. One honking horn, and you’d be out of there faster than you could say ‘Pure-blood.’”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the bustling scenery around him. The sidewalks were busy with people bundled in coats and scarves, some carrying shopping bags, others chatting cheerfully. There was a warmth to it all—a vibrancy that was so different from the cold, quiet grandeur of the Malfoy Manor.

“For all the stupidity the Muggle world has to offer,” Draco murmured, his voice thoughtful, “I’ll admit… I do enjoy how lively it is.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the rare vulnerability in his tone. “Lively?”

He nodded, his icy eyes catching the glint of the snow-covered streets. “The manor was… beautiful, I suppose. Grand. But it was so isolated. Mostly empty land, save for the occasional visitor or house-elf passing by. There was nothing like this—” he gestured to the people around you, the soft hum of life that filled the air. “—no life, no… warmth.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Well, you’ve got that now,” you said, smiling up at him. “Even if it comes with grocery shopping and dishwashers.”

Draco smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “It’s a compromise I’m willing to make,” he said, his voice teasing but sincere.

As the two of you continued walking, the snowflakes began to fall again, dusting the streets and your hair in a light layer of white. Draco tightened his hold on your hand, the moment between you quiet and peaceful as the world around you bustled with life.

As you approached the grocery store, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it between your fingers before sliding it into the lock on a row of shopping carts. With a satisfying click, the cart popped free, and you grabbed it, turning to Draco with a smile.

He stared at the cart, then at you, his brow furrowing. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

You laughed softly, gesturing to the coin slot on the cart. “It’s how you unlock them. You put in a coin, and when you’re done, you get it back.”

Draco’s confusion deepened as he examined the contraption with a critical eye. “Why would you need to pay for a cart? Isn’t that the store’s responsibility? Do you lose the money if you don’t return it?”

“Yes, you only lose the money if you don’t return it.” you explained, suppressing a giggle at his baffled expression. “It’s just a system to make sure people don’t leave the carts all over the parking lot… or steal them”

He tilted his head, considering this. “So, Muggles have to bribe themselves to do the responsible thing?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug, trying not to laugh at the sheer disdain in his voice.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the cart as if it had personally offended him. “What a pitifully inefficient system,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Why not just enchant the carts to return themselves?”

You snorted, wheeling the cart toward the entrance. “Because not everyone has magic, Draco. This works just fine.”

He fell into step beside you, still looking slightly affronted. “I should write to the Ministry. There has to be some sort of international wizarding intervention for this level of absurdity.”

You smirked, patting his arm as you entered the store. “You do that. In the meantime, try not to hex anything while we shop.”

Draco grumbled something under his breath but followed you inside, his sharp gaze taking in the bright fluorescent lights, the neatly stacked shelves, and the bustling crowd. “This is going to be an experience,” he muttered.

“You have no idea,” you replied with a grin, steering the cart toward the produce section.

You wheeled the cart through the store, stopping in the produce aisle to grab fresh herbs and vegetables for the roast dinner. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Draco wander a few steps away, picking up various food items and squinting at the labels like he was deciphering ancient runes. It was adorable, really, but you couldn’t help but focus on your shopping. As you mentally ran through your list, you zigzagged through aisles, tossing essentials into the cart—seasoning, potatoes, stock, bread. Before you knew it, you were in the snacks aisle, debating between crisps and popcorn.

That’s when you realized it. Draco was gone. You glanced around, craning your neck to see if you could spot his silver-blond hair anywhere in the sea of shoppers. Nothing. You sighed, silently praying he hadn’t decided to duel the automatic doors or try to interrogate the self-checkout machine. Just as you picked up a bag of crisps, you heard his unmistakable voice behind you.

“Look at this!” he said, sounding thoroughly impressed.

You turned around, and there he was—holding a bright yellow plastic broom.

“They have brooms here!” he said, turning it over in his hands as if he’d stumbled upon the latest innovation in flying technology. “Never seen one like this… must be a new model.”

You froze, staring at him, your lips twitching as you struggled to keep it together. “A new model?” you repeated, barely managing to suppress a laugh.

Draco nodded, completely serious. “It’s so lightweight. And this handle… not wood, but some kind of sturdy Muggle material. I’ve no idea where the charms are hidden, though.” He ran his fingers along the bristles, frowning slightly. “Odd design, but maybe it improves aerodynamics?”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, fighting to keep your laughter under control. “Draco… that’s not… it’s not a flying broom.”

He blinked, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. “What do you mean? It’s a broom. What else could it be used for?”

“It’s for cleaning,” you managed, your voice trembling with suppressed laughter. “Muggles use it to sweep floors.”

Draco stared at the broom, then at you, then back at the broom. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” you said, finally letting out a small giggle. “That’s about as far from a flying broom as you can get.”

Draco’s face twisted into a mixture of horror and disappointment as he looked at the broom again. “They’ve completely ruined it,” he declared, setting it back on the shelf with a level of disdain usually reserved for cursed objects. “What’s the point of a broom that doesn’t fly?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, earning a few amused glances from other shoppers. “Oh, Draco,” you said between giggles, grabbing his arm. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of what we need before you find something else to ‘improve.’”

You couldn’t stop grinning as you watched Draco hover near the cleaning aisle, his gaze fixed on a row of mops. He tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he gingerly poked at the mop’s sponge end.

“What’s this for?” he asked, holding it up like it was a weapon he needed to disarm.

You chuckled, wheeling the cart closer. “That’s a mop. Muggles use it to clean floors—specifically, to scrub them when they’re wet or dirty.”

Draco’s lips parted in disbelief, and he blinked at you as if you’d just told him people used quills to sew fabric. “You’re telling me… they manually drag this thing around on the floor instead of just casting a Scouring Charm?”

“Pretty much,” you replied with a shrug, struggling to keep a straight face.

He shook his head slowly, muttering under his breath, “Primitive. Absolutely primitive.”

After returning the mop to its place like it had personally offended him, he stuck closer to your side for the rest of the trip, steering the shopping cart with surprising enthusiasm. At first, he pushed it tentatively, testing its movement, but before long, he was zipping down the aisles like a child with a new toy.

“Draco,” you called after him, trying not to laugh as he gave the cart a small push and watched it glide forward. “It’s not a racing broom.”

“Of course not,” he said, smirking but not stopping. “It’s much slower.”

Despite his antics, he peppered you with questions as you continued shopping, picking up random items and holding them out for inspection.

“And this?” he asked, holding up a box of instant pudding mix.

“It’s dessert. You mix it with milk, and it thickens into pudding.”

He frowned. “No wand required?”

“No wand required,” you confirmed, tossing the box into the cart.

He sighed dramatically, moving on to the next item. “And this?”

“A tin opener. It opens cans.”

Draco’s expression fell further. “What’s wrong with an Opening Charm?”

“Not everyone has one, Draco,” you said patiently, biting back a laugh as his disappointment deepened.

Item after item, his curiosity turned into sheer disillusionment. “Muggles really have to work this hard for everything, don’t they?” he muttered, picking up a manual whisk and giving it a dubious glance.

You smirked, taking it from him and placing it in the cart. “It’s not all bad. You’re surviving, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he replied, pushing the cart forward with a little more flair than necessary.

By the time you made it to the checkout line, Draco had perfected his ‘long-suffering Pure-blood enduring the trials of the Muggle world’ expression, but you couldn’t help but notice the occasional glint of fascination in his eyes as he took in the bustling store around him. You were focused on unloading the cart, placing items neatly onto the till conveyor belt while Draco hovered a safe distance away from the machine. His cautious glances at the moving belt made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t alive. Out of nowhere, he called your name, and you turned just in time for him to shove a small box into your face.

“What is this then?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

You froze, your eyes widening as you recognized the box of condoms he was holding with an almost clinical detachment. Your face turned scarlet in an instant.

“Draco!” you hissed, snatching the box from his hand and glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.

“What?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “What are they for? Some kind of… candy perhaps?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words without alerting the nearby cashier or the couple in line behind you. Pulling Draco closer by the sleeve of his coat, you whispered urgently, “They’re… for, um, protection. During, uh, intimate moments.”

Draco’s brows furrowed, his confusion only deepening. “Protection? From what? Are Muggles frequently attacked during—oh.”

The realization dawned on his face, his pale cheeks tinging pink as he took a slight step back. He cleared his throat, glancing at the box still in your hand. “I see. That’s… efficient, I suppose.”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your burning face. “Can we please not discuss this here?”

Draco, however, seemed more intrigued than embarrassed now. “Do they… work reliably? Or—how do you even put it on?”

“Draco!” you hissed again, cutting him off as you stuffed the box back onto the shelf behind you.

He smirked at your reaction, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You’re blushing, darling. It’s adorable.”

“Because you just asked about condoms in the middle of a grocery store,” you muttered, turning back to continue unloading the cart, your face still burning.

Draco chuckled softly, clearly finding your embarrassment far too amusing. He stayed quiet for a moment, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him lingering by the shelf where he’d found the box. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined the options: strawberry, ribbed, ultra-thin. Before you could say anything, he plucked one off the shelf and, with exaggerated caution, tossed it onto the conveyor belt from a distance, as if it might attack him.

You blinked at him, your confusion only growing as you stared at the box sitting innocently amidst the rest of your groceries. “Draco… what are you doing?”

He avoided your gaze, suddenly very interested in straightening his coat. “What? I want to try them,” he mumbled, his voice almost innocent.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you leaned closer to whisper, “Draco, you do realize these aren’t, like, some kind of Muggle novelty item, right?”

He finally glanced at you, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. “I’m perfectly aware,” he said, straightening his posture. “I just… want to see what all the fuss is about.”

You covered your face with your hand, torn between exasperation and laughter. “You are unbelievable.”

The cashier began scanning the items, and Draco, determined to prove himself useful, did his best to place them into the bags you had handed him. His movements were deliberate and almost comically precise, as if packing groceries was a skill to be mastered.

You watched with quiet amusement as he gingerly placed eggs into a bag, his face a mask of concentration. He only paused when the cashier announced the total and you pulled out a card to pay.

Draco’s eyes widened, his gaze darting between you and the small machine where you inserted the card. “That’s how you pay?” he murmured, half to himself.

“Yup,” you replied, suppressing a grin as the machine beeped, signaling the transaction was complete.

But what truly left him speechless was the receipt. The small slip of paper emerged from a hidden compartment with a faint whirring sound, and Draco stepped back slightly, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

“What now?” you asked, noticing his confusion.

He pointed at the receipt, his voice low and serious. “Is it enchanted?”

You chuckled, taking the receipt and tucking it into your pocket. “No, Draco, it’s just a record of what we bought. No magic involved.”

He said nothing, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Once outside, with the shopping bags evenly distributed between you, Draco slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked through the snowy streets. His grip was firm and grounding, but his face was set in a deep, pensive frown. You glanced up at him, his furrowed brows and slightly parted lips betraying the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Deciding not to interrupt, you pressed yourself closer to his side, letting your head rest lightly against the side of his chest. The walk home was quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your boots. Draco remained silent, processing the bizarre journey into Muggle life. You didn’t push him, knowing he’d speak when he was ready—or maybe not at all. By the time you reached your house, his frown had softened, though his eyes still had a far-off look. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Next time,” he said as he set the bags down, his tone a mix of humor and resignation, “I’ll handle the receipt.”

—

You busied yourself in the kitchen, determined to make a flawless roast dinner for Draco’s parents. You knew they weren’t particularly fond of you or the fact that Draco was immersing himself in the Muggle world. Still, you were set on showing them that you belonged in Draco’s life, no matter how many raised eyebrows they threw your way. Draco leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you work. His silver hair caught the warm light of the kitchen, and though his expression remained neutral, you could tell he was intrigued. You chopped, seasoned, and kneaded everything by hand, and it was clear he wasn’t used to such a process.

“You really do all of this without magic?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yup,” you replied, sprinkling some herbs over the potatoes. “From scratch. It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”

Draco hummed in response, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. The quiet shuffling of aluminum caught your attention, and you glanced over your shoulder.

What you saw nearly made you drop the salt shaker.

Draco stood there holding an unpackaged, rolled-up condom in his hands, a deep frown etched on his face. He was holding it between his fingers like it was a particularly slimy slug, his lips curling in disgust.

You bit back a laugh, trying to focus on the potatoes as you replied casually, “You have to unroll it.”

“Aha,” Draco mumbled, clearly no less confused, as he turned and disappeared into the other room.

You shook your head, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. For a moment, the kitchen was quiet again, save for the sound of the roast sizzling in the oven. Then came muffled grumbles from the other room.

It didn’t take long for Draco to reappear, still holding the condom. His face was a mix of defeat and lingering disgust as he held it up. “I have no idea how this thing works,” he admitted, his voice low. “And why does it feel so… disgustingly slimy?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, clutching the counter for support as tears sprang to your eyes. “Oh my God, Draco,” you managed between fits of laughter.

He scowled, tossing the condom onto the counter as if washing his hands of the whole ordeal. “It’s not funny!”

“It is!” you replied, wiping at your eyes. “You look like you’ve been wrestling with it!”

Draco sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t understand how Muggles deal with this nonsense. Magical contraceptives are far less… revolting.” He glanced down at the discarded condom with a look of pure disdain. “It couldn’t even go on.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back your laughter as you stepped closer to him. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently, guiding his attention back to you. His silver eyes softened slightly, his frown easing as you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips lingering against his just long enough to distract him from his frustration.

When you pulled back, your voice was low, your tone teasing. “You need to be… excited for it to work, Draco.”

Draco blinked, his cheeks immediately flushing a soft pink. He straightened, his usual composure cracking for a brief moment as he processed your words. “Excited?” he echoed, his voice slightly higher than usual.

You grinned, brushing past him to check on the roast in the oven. “That’s right,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just sent his mind spinning.

Draco stood frozen for a moment, glancing back at the discarded condom as if it had betrayed him yet again. Then, he turned to you, his voice laced with indignation. “You could have told me that earlier instead of letting me wrestle with it like some kind of fool!”

You laughed, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Draco huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter once more, his pink cheeks still betraying him. “Muggles,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.

“Alright, Malfoy” you teased, brushing your hands off on a towel. “Go set the table before your parents get here, and I promise no more surprises. For now.”

Draco gave you a mock glare before turning to do as you asked, his mutterings about Muggle nonsense fading as he left the kitchen. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you returned to your cooking. Living with Draco was chaotic, but moments like this reminded you just how much you loved having him in your world—even if he’d never quite understand all of it.

The table was set perfectly, as if Draco had spent as much time arranging it as you had cooking. You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your clothes as the knock on the door echoed through the flat. Draco opened it with his usual composed grace, greeting his parents with a stiff nod.

Narcissa stepped inside first, her expression polite but guarded as she glanced around the house. “Draco,” she said softly, pulling him into a quick hug. Her gaze flicked to you, and she offered a small, tight smile. “Y/N.”

“Mrs. Malfoy,” you greeted, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

Lucius followed behind her, his sharp features betraying nothing but disdain as he surveyed his surroundings. He inclined his head slightly toward you, though his lips never moved to form a greeting. It was clear that he was only here under duress, likely at Narcissa’s insistence.

“Do come in,” Draco said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the dining room.

As everyone settled at the table, the tension was palpable. Narcissa sat with perfect posture, her delicate hands folded neatly in her lap, while Lucius sat rigid, his cane resting against the table. His icy gaze swept the room, his disdain evident in every furrow of his brow.

Draco, however, seemed unbothered. He stood proudly, bringing out the food you had spent all afternoon preparing. He set the dishes on the table with a flourish, clearing his throat. “Dinner is served,” he announced, his voice filled with pride. “And before you ask—yes, it was cooked entirely without magic or the help of house-elves.”

Narcissa’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of genuine surprise in her eyes. “Really?” she asked, glancing at the dishes. “That’s quite impressive.”

Lucius, on the other hand, let out a scoff, his lips curling into a faint sneer. “Why anyone would willingly endure such a process is beyond me,” he muttered, earning a sharp glance from his wife.

You bit your tongue, focusing on serving the food as Draco sat down beside you, clearly unfazed by his father’s comment. The meal began in awkward silence, the only sounds coming from the clinking of cutlery and the occasional scrape of a chair.

Finally, Narcissa broke the quiet, turning to her son with a warm, curious smile. “So, Draco, what did you do today?”

Draco sat up straighter, his face lighting up as he launched into an enthusiastic recount of the grocery store trip. “We went to this… Muggle establishment,” he began, his voice carrying a mix of awe and incredulity. “You wouldn’t believe it, Mother. Rows upon rows of food and supplies, all sorted into sections. It was fascinating.”

Narcissa listened intently, her eyes softening as he spoke. “That does sound rather intriguing,” she said, her tone genuine.

Draco continued, describing the shopping cart, the conveyor belt, and the curious beeping machine at the till. “And did you know they have these tiny coins you put into the carts to unlock them?” he added, gesturing animatedly.

Lucius let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Draco’s enthusiasm was physically painful. “I fail to see the appeal,” he muttered under his breath, casting a glance toward the window as though contemplating apparating away.

You stifled a laugh, watching the stark contrast between Draco’s animated storytelling, Narcissa’s interest, and Lucius’s clear misery.

“I even packed the bags,” Draco added proudly. “It’s a ridiculous system, but I managed.”

Narcissa smiled warmly, her pride evident. “I’m glad to see you adapting so well, Draco. It’s important to understand how others live, even if it’s different from what we’re used to.”

Lucius muttered something unintelligible, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane.

Draco turned to you, his eyes bright with satisfaction. “See, love? Mother appreciates it.”

You smiled back, your heart warming at his excitement. “She does,” you said softly, glancing at Narcissa, who nodded in agreement.

Lucius, however, simply sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Let us hope this… experiment of yours doesn’t last too long,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.

Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his composure, reaching for your hand under the table. His fingers squeezed yours briefly, a silent reassurance that he didn’t care what his father thought. The rest of the meal continued with a mix of awkward small talk and Draco’s detailed observations of the Muggle world. Though Lucius remained unimpressed, Narcissa’s quiet encouragement made the effort feel worthwhile. As the conversation wound down and the plates were nearly cleared, Draco suddenly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. His sharp blue eyes glimmered with something unreadable, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I have something to show you,” he muttered, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What is it?” you asked cautiously, your brow furrowing as you tried to guess what he could possibly be up to now.

Draco stood up, strolling out of the dining room with the air of someone retrieving an important artifact. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged puzzled glances, while you felt a flicker of dread creeping up your spine. He returned a moment later, holding a familiar box in his hand.

Your heart sank as your face turned beet red. No. No, no, no, no.

He placed the box of condoms on the table, directly in front of you, and tilted his head with a curious smirk. “You never explained properly,” he said smoothly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed his nonchalant demeanor. “I think it’s time I fully understood how they work.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Lucius froze mid-sip of his wine, his expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. Narcissa’s lips parted slightly as her eyes darted between the box and her son. Meanwhile, you felt your soul leaving your body as your entire face burned hotter than the roast in the oven earlier.

“Draco,” you hissed, your voice a mix of mortification and desperation. “Not now.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently, his smirk widening as he clearly enjoyed your discomfort. “You said it was important to understand Muggle things if I am living here.”

Narcissa cleared her throat delicately, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Draco, darling, perhaps this is a… conversation better suited for another time,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with amusement.

Lucius, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to sink into the ground. “For Salazar’s sake, Draco!” he snapped, his pale face turning an uncharacteristic shade of red. “Have you lost all sense of decorum?”

Draco shrugged, unbothered. “I was merely curious, Father. Isn’t that what this move is about—understanding?”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m going to die,” you muttered under your breath.

Draco leaned closer to you, his smirk softening into something almost endearing. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said quietly. “It’s just a box. Besides, you’re the one who said they’re important.”

“Not during dinner with your parents!” you shot back in a harsh whisper.

Narcissa stood gracefully, reaching for her wine glass and glancing at Lucius, who was visibly seething. “Perhaps we should take a moment to admire the décor in the living room,” she suggested, her tone light but firm. “Give them a moment to… collect themselves.”

Lucius rose quickly, eager to escape the situation, and followed her out without another word.

As soon as they were out of earshot, you turned to Draco, glaring at him through your lingering embarrassment. “What is wrong with you?”

He grinned, his pale cheeks still faintly pink. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Draco,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. But despite your mortification, a reluctant laugh bubbled up, escaping your lips.

Draco chuckled softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Hey,” he said, his voice laced with mischief. “It looks like my parents knew exactly what the box contained.”

You groaned louder, shaking your head as you peeked at him from between your fingers. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s more fun than I had ever experienced in my life,” he replied, smirking. “And because your reactions are priceless.”

You swatted his arm lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing again. “You’re going to pay for this later.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Draco said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly smug expression.

You shook your head, standing to start clearing the table. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth twitched despite your best efforts to remain stern.

Draco stood as well, grabbing a plate and following you to the kitchen. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother look that impressed. You’re winning her over, you know.”

You glanced at him, your irritation melting a little as you caught the sincerity in his eyes. “Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But your dad looks like he’s ready to disown you.”

Draco shrugged, setting the plate down on the counter. “He’ll survive. I’d say this visit is going better than expected.”

You arched an eyebrow, gesturing toward the box still sitting on the table. “Even with that little stunt?”

He smirked, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Especially because of that,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you turned back to the dishes. Life with Draco was unpredictable, embarrassing, and absolutely worth it.

After a while, with the kitchen cleaned and dessert plates neatly arranged, you rejoined Draco’s parents in the living room. You placed the cake and a small pot of tea on the coffee table, smiling as Narcissa complimented the presentation. “It looks lovely, dear,” she said warmly, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the first bite. “And delicious.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief at her approval.

Meanwhile, Draco stood by the TV, flicking it on with the remote. The screen lit up, filling the room with sound and color. He had been obsessed with it ever since the two of you moved in, constantly exploring its features and marveling at the variety of channels.

“And this,” he began, gesturing to the screen, “is called a television. It’s a Muggle device that streams moving pictures and sound. There are different stations—some show plays or sports, others music or news.”

Lucius, who had been seated stiffly on the sofa, cast the TV a disinterested glance at first. But as Draco flipped through the channels, his gaze lingered, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Draco settled on a music channel, where a pop song played over vibrant, fast-moving visuals. Lucius leaned forward slightly, his cane forgotten at his side as his eyes remained glued to the screen.

Narcissa, meanwhile, sipped her tea and turned to you with a soft smile. “The cake is truly wonderful, Y/N. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at Lucius, whose face was now bathed in the colorful glow of the TV. Draco was explaining the concept of music videos, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride.

“And these stations,” Draco said, pointing to the remote, “play music continuously. The visuals match the songs—like this one, see?”

Lucius didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were analyzing every detail. Eventually, he gave a slow nod. “Remarkable,” he muttered under his breath, clearly fascinated despite his obvious disdain for anything muggle.

Narcissa glanced at him with a knowing smile but said nothing, letting her husband enjoy his unexpected discovery.

After a while, Narcissa stood gracefully, placing her empty teacup on the table and smoothing the fabric of her elegant robe. “It’s getting late,” she said gently, her tone warm but firm. “We should be heading home.”

Lucius didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on the television, where a lively music video was playing. His normally composed expression was slightly softened, his eyes darting between the screen and the remote in Draco’s hand.

“Lucius,” Narcissa prompted, her voice holding a hint of exasperation. “It’s time to go.”

He finally tore his gaze away from the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yes, yes, in a moment,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as if he needed just a little more time to understand the contraption.

Draco smirked, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “I think he likes it,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with amusement.

Narcissa gave you a knowing glance, her lips twitching into a faint smile before turning back to her husband. “Lucius,” she said again, a bit more firmly this time, “we’re leaving. Now.”

Lucius sighed dramatically, rising from the sofa but casting the TV one last, reluctant glance. “I suppose,” he said, his voice tinged with regret, “we can continue exploring this… device another time.”

You exchanged goodbyes at the door, Narcissa giving you a soft pat on the arm and a smile that felt almost maternal. Lucius remained as formal as ever, though there was an unusual glint in his eye as he glanced at the living room one last time.

As the two of them stepped outside, you lingered by the door with Draco. The crisp night air carried the faint sound of their voices as they walked toward the apparition point.

“You know,” Lucius muttered to Narcissa, his voice carrying just enough for you to catch, “we should consider getting one of those televisions for the manor.”

Narcissa’s laugh was soft but unmistakable. “I’ll make the arrangements,” she replied, her tone indulgent.

Draco closed the door, leaning against it with a triumphant smirk. “See?” he said, turning to you. “It wasn’t so bad.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you just converted your father into a TV enthusiast.”

“Not bad for one evening,” Draco said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Though I’d say the real victory was your cake. Well done, love.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss. “Thanks, but I think your TV demonstration might’ve been the real winner tonight.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course. I am rather persuasive.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned off the living room lights—a concept Draco still found mildly perplexing. He mumbled something about how inconvenient switches were compared to a simple wand flick as you guided him upstairs to your bedroom.

By the time you finished washing up and changed into your pajamas, Draco was already tucked under the covers. The glow from his nightlight—a softly enchanted orb you’d insisted on for his comfort—bathed the room in a warm, golden hue.

You paused at the vanity, applying cream to your face while sneaking a glance at him through the mirror. He was sitting upright, his brow furrowed as he read the label on the back of the box of condoms. His lips moved faintly as if he were trying to work out some sort of  instructions.

Biting back a laugh, you shook your head and turned off the main lights, leaving only the dim glow of his nightlight. Crawling into bed beside him, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Still trying to figure that out?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Draco looked over at you, holding up the box with a faint smirk. “The instructions are absurdly detailed for something so… basic.”

You chuckled, resting your head on the pillow. “I’m not sure what you expected. Magic?”

“Honestly, yes,” he replied, setting the box on the nightstand and settling under the covers. “Everything’s unnecessarily complicated without it.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, if it gets too overwhelming, just remember—I’m here to guide you through it.”

Draco turned to you, his smirk softening into something warmer. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb lightly over your hand before pulling you closer.

As the nightlight cast its soft glow over the room, you snuggled into his side, grateful for the quiet comfort of the moment. Life with Malfoy was a whirlwind, but here, in the stillness of your shared space, everything felt just right. Draco was silent for a while, though you could feel him thinking, his body slightly tense beneath yours. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft and hesitant. “Could you show me how to use them? Tonight?”

You lifted your head to look at him, his silver eyes meeting yours, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to reassure him. When you pulled back, you smiled gently, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Of course.”

The room fell into a quiet calm, the only sounds the faint rustle of the sheets as you moved closer to him. Draco’s arms wrapped around you, his touch steady and warm. Life in the muggle world had turned out to be far more surprising than Draco had ever expected. It wasn’t as grand or as effortless as the magical life he’d always known, but there was something about it—something real, unpolished, and oddly comforting.

Though, as he discovered later that night, the condoms were nothing special after all.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[alchemistc]

Dipping my foot in the mpreg pool to give you all:

They used a condom every time. Even after they'd gone to get tested, it was a fling for both of them, and it wasn't supposed to mean a damn thing.

Only Buck's three months along and Jason won't answer his calls.

Four months, and Cap sits him down and tells him at six he's gonna have to accept being man behind.

Five, and he runs into Jason at the supermarket and tells him he needs his family history. Jason looks spooked, but he overnights it to Buck's loft a week and a half later and Buck sends him a text letting him know he's off the hook.

Jason blocks his number.

Six, and Buck's back to stress baking, just at the firehouse now. He's not allowed to clean much, there aren't a lot of chemicals that are safe, and the probies from B shift bitch about it but they're not carrying a fucking bowling ball around.

At seven, Tommy rounds a corner with his face tipped behind him on a laugh and nearly runs smack into Buck.

When he turns back around he stops dead. Buck can see him doing the math, but even if he was ready to pop it wouldn't quite add up.

He saw Tommy on a call before he started showing and it was the most cordial interaction he's ever had with another firefighter.

---

They say hi. Tommy introduces him to his friend Henry. Buck gestures like he's got bigger plans than going home and eating a pint and a half of ice cream. They say goodbye.

---

Tommy calls him an hour later and asks if he can stop by.

---

"So he's just... not going to be involved?"

"He's twenty-five and a terrible person, so no. It was a fling. The sex was hot."

Tommy grimaces. "Do you need anything?"

"You got a spare bladder?"

---

At eight and a half they put Buck on bed rest and he throws an absolute fit about it. Eddie spends three days watching him furiously clean the loft with the natural shit he'd bought the day he saw those two lines. Hen threatens to bring Mara over to sit on him. Maddie listens to him rant for an hour and then brings him peanut butter banana toast with pickles in bed.

Tommy drops by with his massage gun and swears up and down he actually consulted an OB about which muscles it was safe to use on.

"How do you know an OB?"

Tommy looks shifty. "Do you want me to stay?" He ignores Buck's goggle eyes. Nods his head decisively. "I should stay."

---

Tommy camps out on his couch for two and a half weeks and already has the go-bag in his hands by the time Buck gets down the stairs.

Buck asks him if he wants to be in the room and despite the panicked look in his eyes, Tommy says yes.

---

"They asked me why I wasn't listed on the birth certificate," Tommy hisses, little baby Buckley dwarfed in his arms. He's been staring at her button nose for half an hour now, and Buck keeps trying to remind himself that this isn't permanent.

"What did you say?" Buck asks, genuinely curious.

Tommy's gaze is sad when it meets Buck's. "I didn't."

Like he can't quite help himself, he reaches a free hand in and boops her nose. She's out, though. She likes the sound of Tommy's voice.

Buck sighs. "She recognized you immediately." He's read the books. A million and two of them. Babies know the people that are around, the people that are close.

Amelia knows Tommy.

"It's not just me anymore, Tommy," he intones, and Tommy turns back up to look at him. Startled. Hopeful.

"I've been babyproofing my house like a lunatic for two months," he whispers, and Buck reaches out to rub a hand over the thin skin of Amelia's forehead before he catches Tommy's fingers in his own.

[postersofleon]

one of favorite things about leon's breeding kink headcanon is that it sort of makes sense in my mind. that man can't have kids. he works so much and he can't afford having kids. he can't have that privilege so it's a bit "problematic"

leon always wraps it. he knows if he sees his cum dripping down he would want to plug himself until he knows you are pregnant. all the positions he has sex is the "attempt" of going deep. he unconscious fucks to breed. he is blushing deeply, his cheeks are all red when he knows what he is doing.

one anniversary, you tell him you took all the steps not get pregnant so he'll try having sex with you without a condom. leon's mind quickly wants to break the chemical reaction of the birth control and/or the morning after pill. he is having the time of his life as he uses you over and over. because there's no rubber, all of his dirty talk is about making you a mommy. he isn't as "shy" without the condom. his mind just has a goal.

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER - day 12 squirting : shouta aizawa/eraserhead

warnings : afab reader, reader and aizawa are married, y’all have a cat, pussy slapping (pun probably intended), this is doo-doo dog shit, like this actually sucks, doo doo fart ass, dookie, poo poo fart, smegma, this fic reads like what sharting yourself feels like, this fic smells like the family bathroom at walmart, we’re fucking twelve (not literally), don’t expect anything else genuinely, butt, pretend this was never posted, PLEASE, day 12 is NOT REAL, THEY HIT THE PENTAGON— MR PRESIDENT GET DOW— bill gates did it, bill cypher is canon, squirting, fingering idk, eating ass, butthole rimming, 2024 election, ellen digestive did 9/11, Trump x Biden, 9/11, hilary emails included, proof of aliens existence, video footage of the area 51 raid, UFOs, alien butt sex, wrong usage of condoms, anal probing, biological dna harboring, sickle cell anemia, KLANCE is canon, Steven universe, major character death, gem fusions, love children, feel like cinderella naega byeonhae, NETFLIX ORIGIONAL, only on Hulu, Elsa x Jackfrost smut, playdough, me x YOU, tiana x nanami au, your mom x me, sarcamouche x kazuha, xiao x venti, improper use of crack cocaine, making herion, mentions of drug mules, dead dove: do eat, improper use of magic, meth making, cocaine balloons bursting, Harry Potter x Snape, hermoine x the whomping willow, herobrine x steve, unfortunate uses of pixels, bakudeku slime, hnnng harder daddy, mmhppgh— yeah yeah right there, cum consumption, cumflation, feeder fetish, oh yeah, koolaid man x me, very improper use of koolaid packets, nickacaco avocado weight loss journey, apology videos (tears included), , banjos, jake paul dcead body in forest footage (NOT CLICKBAIT), live leak posts, webtoon origional, anal stretching, did you know the human anus can stretch to the size of a raccoon?, now you know that, and also, the sun will explode June 17th, 3028, character flaws, bodily anatomy, your balls will explode on october 21st at 7:99am, my gleeby deeby ass, futurama, Micheal Angelo, improper use of abortions, medical surgery on a grape, plastic surgery, baby killing, tampon usage, description of endangered animal poaching, Mario Kart, tuberculosis, ima get it donnnne oh aye oh aye oh, butt stuff, dazai x chuuya, atsushi x akutagawa, mpreg, mad cow disease, omegaverse, ranpo x me, Dream SMP, matpat x scott cowthan, michael afton x freddy fazbear, aggressive typing, bath salts, bath salt inhalation, whippets, galaxy gas, all might is a bottom, skinny men, carrington x shigaraki, anorexia anorexia anorexia, afo x nana shimura, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, TW gun law debates, tenko x mon, Amazon delivery, school shootings, talk of gun laws, bad dragon toys, silicon, aoyama belly button leaking, lego ninjago r34, ninja turtles r34, bloody mary r34, kamala harris r34, tenya iida x tensei iida, jesus x judas, luigi x bowser, sonic and shadow makeout sesh, i fuck your dad, suck his dick reallll nice, penis sounding with dirty twig, orgasm denial, overstimulation, xenotransplants, oviposition, diaper Taco Bell, people die, revival, dark magic, ecoterrorism, global warming, chemical warfare, wanda x the winter soldier, haruhi x tamaki suoh, cosmo x wanda, comicon, bronies, pegasisters, mentions of twilight sparkle dying, twiilight sparkle x mordecai, air planes, shootings stars, night skies, NLE Choppa, we could really use a wish bro, TuPac is back, floppa carts: plompy haze, death of a platform known as tumblr, twitter referred to as X, elon musk creates sex robot that specializes in butthole sex, Tesla sex robot, androids that FUCK, necrophilia, android phone usage, pheromones, premonitions and words of Jesus, divine intution, potion making, heavenly visions, satan, satanic visions, the heavenly principles, celestia is above mondstadt, spiritual healing, veganism, white washing, canon hispanic hanta sero, futanari, blasian mina ashido, bovine spongiforms, Tenya Iida virginity loss, bakugo is a fucking faggot, handjobs, footjobs, peaceful protests, the government is controlling you through vaccines, asian fishing,

vaccines might cause autism, freshwater fishing, they will, xenophobia, hentai hucows, incest, usage of slurs, starbucks coffee, lizards run the world, obama might be a lizard, inappropriate use of baby oil, gojo x getou, day twelve never existed and it was all a lie.

word count : 420k words and 69 pages

🐙 note : we are not locked in we are as loose as a ran through sorority president

🦊 note : i am. i have no words. idek what happened. we ran out of time so we went with the option we thought might make people giggle (no we didnt we did this bullshit for ourselves)(your regularly scheduled content will resume tmr!)

🪲 note : i ain’t fucking sorry

you adored your husband—shouta aizawa—so much so, that you were his dedicated housewife. he made plenty of money as a pro hero and… enough… as a teacher, so that left you to take care of the house and your shared cat. though when he did come home he was way different than he was at work, usually at work he was all nonchalant and cold but at home he was sweet and caring, sometimes even a bit rough. his students would definitely describe him as laid back and uninterested, yet when you were around they were in awe of his personality shift.

[teaboot]

Yo I haven't done it in forever so I forgot that working at a sex shop gives you superpowers

1. The We-Vibe Tango is a low frequency and fully waterproof rechargeable bullet vibrator that we used to sell for about $150. A new model came out about a year ago so it's on sale now online for $47. Can confirm that shipping is discreet and they have a really good warranty, just keep the packaging.

*(I'm not sponsored to say that and nobody is paying me rn, it's just a legit good deal.)

2. There are essentially three bases used for lube: Water, Oil, and Silicone. Oil breaks down any materials other than glass or metal, and Silicone breaks down Silicone toys and sometimes condoms. Water is safe for everything but tends to dry out, so people don't like it- but if you add water or spit, drying water-based lube will slick right back up.

3. If your water-based lube has given you any itching, tightening, or burning sensations, you probably have a chemical sensitivity. Obviously everyone has different preferences, but my number one recommendation is Water Slide- it's a super reasonable price compared to other lubes, it feels natural, it's incredibly gentle on the skin, and it doesn't stain sheets.

**(Again, I'm not being paid for this. By anyone. At all. I'm just sick of hearing people come in and tell me they don't use lube cause it hurts, or that they're using fucking coconut oil in their vagina. Please, God, don't put coconut oil in your vagina.)

4. A lot of massage oils use almond oil to suspend other ingredients, and warming products sometimes use cinnamon. Always, always, always check people's allergies.

5. You can buy toys off cheap sites if you want, just be wary of quality and ALWAYS read the product description. I personally wouldn't buy anything that isn't Silicone, stainless steel, or glass, because unlike jelly, plastic, "fantaflesh", and Silicon, (which is NOT Silicone!!!) They are non-porous, sterile, and don't melt in contact with each other. This means that as long as you clean them properly and don't use the wrong lubes, they will not hold bacteria or break down, which makes them safe for both you to reuse and your partner/s to share. (And to switch between front door/back door, so long as you wash before going back to front.)

6. Cotton and polyester bondage rope are cheap and great to practice with. Silk sounds fancy and is very strong but be advised that a lot of silk rope is "Silk(TM)", not actual silk. Read the product description. (I personally am reluctant to spend more than about $2 per foot for mass-produced synthetic rope, but could be persuaded to pay more for ACTUAL silk, nylon, handmade ropes, or especially attractive colors/patterns/textures.) You want your rope to be at least as thick as your thumb and layered to avoid lacerations, and taut (not stretchy) to be sure you're in control of how much pressure you're putting on.

7. Choking someone by pressing on the windpipe is painful and inefficient. If you want to, stay very, very light, as it's a very delicate area. If you want a head rush, press down on the sides of the windpipe, just below the corners of their lower jaw. You will feel a pulse there. That's the carotid artery. It carries oxygen to the brain. Pressing there will allow them to breathe, but will still "choke" the air going to their head. It's faster and painless. Only hold this for 3-4 seconds if you lack experience. It takes just under 15 seconds to make someone pass out from a blood choke, and after that you risk causing *permanent brain damage*. If your partner passes out, release pressure immediately and keep their airways clear. If you're the one being choked, know that your only warning will be spotty vision and a dizzy sensation. Communicate with your partner/s and for the love of God, do your research first. I'm not a doctor. Please God, please do your research.

8. Don't reduce blood flow to any part of the body for more than 20 minutes. This includes cock rings. Take a break for an hour between uses.

9. Most 'dick pills' are just a stimulant, a mild vasodilator, and a placebo. Usually mostly caffeine. They are not worth $20 apiece. Take a minute to meditate, have a hot shower, drink some black tea, have a coffee, go for a run, whatever- you'll get the same effect. And no, there is not a single ethical and legal sex shop in the country that can sell you viagra. You would have better luck on Facebook. Do not buy viagra on Facebook.

10. There are no "male toys" and "female toys". Your only limitations are safety and creativity. If youre sticking something into something else, just make sure everything is clean, not too big, not sharp or abrasive, and can be taken back out.

11. If something "goes missing" in your vagina and you panic, you muscles will tense up and it'll it'll harder to get back. Relax and stand up. Wait a minute. Chill. Calm down. Jump a couple times. There's nowhere for it to go and worst case scenario, I promise the emergency walk-in has seen something weirder or worse in the past hour or so.

12. You cannot return toys that you buy and don't like and I swear to God if you come into my store with an opened product and try to give it back I will lose my shit

13. Actually while I'm at it, people who work at sex shops are more often than not not sex workers and even if they were, it would still not be appropriate to flash or grope them or ask them "what they use", I will run you over in the fucking parking lot

[nakanx]

a man called me a misandrist today. i told him misandry wasn’t real. he insisted it was, and that it was just as bad as misogyny. i asked him the following questions:

what slurs are there against men? how many men have been murdered by women simply because they’re men? what percentage of men get raped by women? how many men are murdered by their family members for having too much sex? how many are murdered by girlfriends for having too little sex? how many men are forced by their girlfriends & wives to ruin their body in order to have kids? how many are murdered for impregnating their girlfriend/wife? how many men are mitigated by doctors once they have children? what about raped by doctors during the process? how many men are beaten for their condom use? what about lackthereof? how many men are lied to about their anatomy? how many boys don’t know what a penis is? what about testicles? which sex-ed classes focus on women’s health and don’t mention men? how many boys get their penises cut off before they reach adolescence? how many men are told that they’re meant to have small penises? how many are told that large penises mean that they’re “dirty” or they “sleep around”? how many men are expected to wear restrictive and dehumanizing clothing? how many men are expected to remove all of their hair from the eyebrows down with a sharp instrument every 2-3 days? what about ripping their hair completely out with hot wax, down to the hair follicle? how many men are expected to slather a cocktail of chemicals all over their skin every day? how many men are threatened with murder when they fall asleep next to a woman, and the chemicals disappear? how many men are murdered because they pee? how many men are shamed because they pee? how many men are told that they’re evil or demons because they pee? how many men have been raped by doctors because they cried and their wives didn’t like it? what disease was imagined up where the only symptom was male irritability? how is that disease used to demean and discredit men today? all of this and more happens to women all the time all over the world. is there anything even close to this level of dehumanization that men experience from women who simply don’t want to be near them?

[menacinmasochist]

One of the boys finding out Yui got pregnant by another one of them and beating her up until she miscarries 💖

// I honestly wasn’t too sure about taking this request, super trigger warning⚠️

Yui POV:

I had learned the hard way that these brothers would always have their way with me. In all ways possible. Feelings like love, and care were not in their chemical composition. They all were cruel, sadistic beings that only desired to fulfill their own satisfaction. I foolishly believed that when one of them craved me sexually it was because they liked me..but that was far from the reality of it. I have been living with the Sakamaki Brothers for a few months now.

Ayato took my first kiss and my virginity the second week of living with them, he was determined to be my first everything but since he has not officially claimed me as his, I was passed around to all the brothers. Kanato had no issue forcing himself within me anytime he desired, as well as Laito. Laito however, enjoyed to humiliate me..he would do such tortuous sexual acts on me, programming me to crave such perverse ways of stimilation. Reiji was not tender at all, much like Laito he was rather crude towards me, often spanking and enjoying me sob for him to stop. I believed that Shu and Subaru were different, they avoided me as much as they could..until they couldn't anymore. Shu would want to do it anywhere but the comfort of a bed, somehow he would manage to make me do all the work and pleasure him, he loved oral sex the most. Subaru was the last to defile me, it was fitting since he was the youngest as well. He lost control of himself, his anger taking over leading to such rough and arduous sex. I thought he would possibly be the most gentle given that I have seen his precious moments, but when it came to primal urges he, just like the rest of his brothers, was a beast.

"So who got you knocked up?" the question made me snap back to reality. I was sitting in the living room, surrounded by all the brothers. "Well it was not me, I am always cautious." Reiji stated simply. "Couldn't have been me, I always pull out. Who the fuck knocked you up??" Ayato commented then questioned, he was irritated. I never wanted to be in a situation like this. Reiji would use condoms. Ayato, Laito and Kanato would pull out of me. Subaru has never actually finished with me. Shu was very lazy, he never wore condoms and he wouldn't care enough to pull out of me, I looked right at Shu. " It's Shu's.." I almost whisper.

"How unfortunate for you and your unborn child." Reiji remarked, chuckling at the end.

"Some serious bad luck on that accord Little Bitch, Shu doesn't care about anything at all~" Laito practically sang to me.

"Who's to say it's actually Shu's?!" Kanato yelled out.

“Who else would be that careless” Subaru commented, there were so many intense stares

I noticed that as soon as I said it was Shu’s. Ayato became very quiet. It was rather alarming and eerie, I couldn’t even see the faces he was making. What was worse was that Shu didn’t even say anything. “Having a hybrid child indicates a more rapid growth, instead of 9 months it will most likely take 3-6 months for the child to be fully developed.” Reiji stated. Causing me to hold my stomach. I had only found out today, I have no idea how far along I am. “Have this bastard child, it will be taken care of..not by me necessarily but our family and you will do what you must do..” Shu finally spoke up. “I expected as much. You really want this deadbeat to be the father of your child?” Reiji asked me with genuine concern. “Oh why keep it?” Laito commented.

“What do you mean…” I asked him. Causing him to smirk sadistically.

“We can get rid of it, besides if our precious little bitch is pregnant that means we can’t drink her blood for however long she’s due” he stated. I didn’t say anything, I was honestly so upset at him even suggesting that. It’s a life, I can’t do that.

“No, I want this child.” Shu stood up, “all of you better fuck off in the meanwhile, this meeting is over” He finished and left. I began to follow after him. He turns around and grabs my wrist. “This doesn’t mean youre mine or whatever, I don’t care for you be good and stay out the way” he tells me then brushes me away from him. I felt so alone, I hate this feeling.

I retrieve back to my room, laying down in the bed I hold my pillow to my stomach, please god, please help me. I whisper to myself.

“I don’t want you to have his kid..” a voice whispered to me causing me to turn around. Ayato was sitting on my bed, staring at me a shadow over his face. “Is this what you want?” He asked me. I couldn’t answer him.

“Fuck this kid and fuck you, I don’t give a fuck you’re mine and I’ll be damned before I let that lazy sack of shit win you over.” He proclaimed to me, was this Ayato’s version of confessing? I don’t know, he wasted no time to pull me into a deep kiss, one with much passion not like his other kisses, I felt like I was going to melt. Things began to get hot and heavy. One thing led to the next and he put his whole tongue inside of my part, devouring me so tenderly and loving I wanted Ayato to be the father of this child so badly, I wanted him to love me so badly. Something came over him and he stopped eating me out, his hands wrapped around my throat, tightly.

“No…don’t!!” I yelped out, causing him to squeeze harder, I used all my might to kick him off me, he backed away giving me a chance to run out of the room, and I ran like hell. Dashing throughout the hallway, he chased me down. The next thing I knew I was pushed down a flight of stairs, Ayato followed me down and kicked me repeatedly in the stomach.

“There! That’s a clean slate, now let me impregnate you.” He said, smiling like a mad man, I was in so much pain and I couldn’t even fight him. It was futile. I gave into the despair and let him have his way with me…this is what I get for wanting him to be the father.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch! i'm fully aware of what materials are and aren't body-safe. however, a brand that i've gotten many other toys from that are all silicone (bellesa) sold me a toy that didn't have its material written anywhere on-site (my bad for not checking, i guess i got too confident after all the others i'd gotten from them), and i didn't know it wasn't until i got it and saw "pvc" on the outside on the box. emailed customer support about it, they won't take it back even unopened nor will they refund, so now i'm out a good few dollary doos on somethin' i can't actually use. sorry for the novel's worth of context; the question's pretty simple. can you use a pvc toy with a condom?

this feels to me like it should be a sort of obvious "yes", but hey, always better safe than sorry.

hi anon,

can't say I'd recommend it. I'm going to quote safe sex toy icon Dangerous Lilly here:

All porous sex toys have oils in them.... When the toys sweat/break down, even just a little, there’s a constant sheen of oil on them. This oil will render latex condoms so porous that it’s useless against the fight. You might be able to succeed with using polyurethane condoms or nitrile condoms but again this is a theory and not proven. Polyurethane and nitrile are safe with oils but I don’t know if they’re a barrier against the toxic chemicals in some sex toys.

and link to the full article here:

tl;dr you can but its not uuuuuh what I would call a long-term or even particularly good solution.

[pymander-real-prosthesis]

BOTTOM GROWTH

Comprehensive Overview on FTM Bottom Growth

FTM Bottom Growth

FTM bottom growth refers to the physiological transformation where clitoral and labial tissues enlarge and adopt a scrotum-like configuration under the influence of testosterone hormone replacement therapy (HRT) in transgender men. Testosterone promotes growth in the clitoris and labia majora, leading to size increase and structural changes resembling a scrotum. This process typically begins within weeks to months of starting HRT and continues over several years.

Notably, hormone therapy is not universally chosen among transmasculine individuals, with some opting for alternative genital surgeries. The rate and extent of bottom growth vary significantly due to factors such as age, genetics, and testosterone dosage.

Experiencing FTM Bottom Growth

FTM bottom growth represents a significant aspect of physical transition for transgender men, requiring a realistic understanding of its developmental course. Initial stages of HRT may entail mild growth and heightened sensitivity in the clitoral area, accompanied by sensations like tingling or discomfort. As treatment progresses, further changes may include increased clitoral girth, length, and reduced vaginal lubrication.

Over time, these changes intensify with ongoing reshaping of the labia majora into a flatter contour and continued clitoral enlargement. Variability in the pace and magnitude of these transformations underscores the individualized nature of hormone-induced bottom growth among those undergoing HRT.

Self-Care During FTM Bottom Growth

Maintaining self-care practices is crucial for overall well-being and satisfaction during FTM bottom growth:

Hygiene Practices: Ensure meticulous hygiene to prevent infections by using gentle soap and lukewarm water for genital cleansing, avoiding harsh chemicals or scented products.

Safe Sexual Practices: Employ barrier methods consistently during sexual activity to minimize the risk of STIs, including condoms and dental dams.

Exploration of Sensation: Embrace evolving genital sensations by experimenting with different forms of stimulation to discover what feels pleasurable and fulfilling.

Effective Communication: Foster open communication with sexual partners about evolving needs, preferences, and boundaries during this transition phase to enhance mutual understanding and satisfaction.

By prioritizing these aspects of self-care, individuals navigating FTM bottom growth can foster a supportive and empowered approach to their physical transition journey.

FTM Bottom Growth and Stimulation with Pymander Packers

Questions often arise regarding pleasure and usability of Pymander Packers' stimulating mouths:

Inclusive Pleasure: Our products are designed to maximize pleasure for users of any body type, regardless of their hormone therapy status.

Customization: We recommend exploring our diverse range of products, including rods with various mouthpieces, to tailor your experience and find what suits your preferences best.

Personal Satisfaction: Our goal is to provide inclusive and effective solutions that cater to the diverse needs of all customers, ensuring a positive and fulfilling experience with our stimulating products.

Preventing Bottom Growth

For transgender men wishing to manage or slow down bottom growth during hormone therapy:

Adjust Testosterone Dosage: Consult with healthcare providers about potentially lowering testosterone levels to mitigate the conversion to dihydrotestosterone (DHT), which drives clitoral enlargement and other masculinizing effects.

Dutasteride/Finasteride: These medications can block the conversion of testosterone to DHT but may cause side effects like menstrual return and reduced body hair growth. Discuss benefits and risks with healthcare providers for informed decision-making.

Enhancing Bottom Growth

For those seeking to enhance bottom growth under hormone therapy:

Clitoral Pump: Safely increase clitoral size and sensitivity using non-medical suction devices, particularly effective post-HRT initiation.

Usage Tips: Follow manufacturer guidelines rigorously to avoid discomfort or injury, gradually increasing suction and using appropriate lubrication for smooth operation.

DHT Cream: Topical application of synthetic testosterone can promote genital growth and secondary sexual characteristics development, though individual responses vary.

Considerations

Individual Variability: Responses to hormone therapy and enhancement methods differ among individuals.

Consultation: Seek guidance from healthcare providers specializing in transgender healthcare to personalize interventions aligned with individual needs and goals.