#cleaning bamboo floor

[vancitycleaning]

Essential Steps for Safely Cleaning Bamboo Floors

Ensure the longevity and beauty of your bamboo floors with these must-follow cleaning steps. Keep your home's floors looking pristine and eco-friendly.

[ramseyflooringarizona]

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[marinelethellec]

Great Room Kitchen

[daisynik7]

Sanemi is usually cold, even borderline rude to the Kakushi, who usually just deal with it by ignoring it. Not you, though. You've heard the stories about his intimidating demeanor, listened to your fellow coworkers let out exasperated groans at being assigned to him for even the simplest tasks, all because they really don't want to be around him.

So when you're finally assigned to him, in charge of fixing a tear on his uniform, you already have your guard up, your hackles raised. You know you're supposed to be good, but if a whiff of bad behavior on his end arises, you can't promise to behave.

He's at his usual training grounds, mangled bamboo pieces littered all over the dirt. You approach him cautiously, his back turned toward you. Without warning, he strips his top off, tossing it aggressively behind him. It lands directly on your face, the fabric hot, heavily laced with his scent, which is surprisingly sweet. He doesn't greet you, nor does he even turn around to face you. "Fix it," is all he mutters, raising his sword to strike the remaining bamboo in front of him.

Feeling safe since his back is towards you, you roll your eyes at him. Then, on your way out, you grumble under your breath, "No please?"

The following week, you're assigned to him again, this time to clean up his mess at the training grounds. He's been at it for hours, the sun beating down on him, his exposed chest glistening with sweat. If he wasn't such an asshole, maybe you'd find him attractive. Hell, even with his shitty personality, it's hard to deny.

When you arrive, he faces you, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "Clean it up," he orders through gritted teeth. He stares at you for a second longer than needed, then turns around to walk away. You bend down to start picking up the pieces, mumbling, "You're welcome."

He stops in his tracks, as if something has captured his attention. You hold your breath, waiting for his next move. But he continues in his path until he's completely gone.

The third assignment is an odd one. You're called to his home late at night, asked to bring some healing supplies with you. Apparently, Sanemi injured himself while he was sharpening his blades in his room, an unusual occurrence for Hashira. Nevertheless, you show up, following him into his room, waiting for his instructions.

He sits at the edge of the bed, displaying his hand to you, a fresh cut across his palm. No words this time, just a grunt, his gaze avoiding yours.

You can't resist; you roll your eyes at him, sighing. And he catches you.

It happens quickly. A huge gust of wind, the ointment and gauze from your grasp drops to the floor, and you're pushed against his dresser, his body pressed to yours. The mask falls from your face, revealing your terrified expression, eyes shut, lips trembling. His breath is hot on your skin, incredibly close you can hear his heart beating rapidly.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity. You swallow hard, mustering the courage to open your eyes. His usual crazed expression is now one of yearning, pleading. Something between you captures your attention, and you soon realize that he's aroused. Really aroused.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and trembling, like he's trying to restrain himself. "Please."

[kechiwrites]

gentle touch

könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)

synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.

wc: 2.8k

cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.

author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.

He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.

You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.

"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.

"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.

“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.

He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.

Cute.

“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”

“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”

Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.

“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”

You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.

When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.

When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.

“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.

His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.

He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.

The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.

By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause. 

No.

It couldn’t be.

The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. König?”

He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.

“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.

You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.

He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.

“Still good?”

His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.

“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.

Still got 45 minutes left, after all.

You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.

Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.

“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.

You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.

König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.

“Please.”

And that’s all you need.

He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.

God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.

König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.

You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.

“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.

“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.

But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.

The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.

“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.

When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,

“So...I’ll see you next week?”

hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.

support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My mom has this awful friend, Cynthia. My loathing goes deep enough that I’m not even going to change her name. If she ever finds this she knows what she did.

On multiple occasions my mom asked this horrible irresponsible chicken brained woman to watch after our animals while we were away. I don’t know why once wasn’t enough, because the first failure was so spectacular that anyone in their right mind would know she couldn’t be trusted with any level of responsibility or direction following.

You might be thinking to yourself, FFS, this level of antipathy is surely unwarranted! But you’d be wrong.

To set the scene, we were living in downstairs of our house when I was about fifteen. My mom has always wanted more animals than can reasonably be kept indoors which is how we ended up with three cats. When she wanted to kick them all outside I protested, and so all three cats lived in my bedroom with no access to the rest of the house.

That really wasn’t great, so in an attempt to give them options we made a window cutout with a cat door in it to give them access to the outdoors. Looking back on this as an environmentally conscious adult it’s wretched, cats should be indoor only, but at the time I was desperate to give them some freedom because one bedroom is too small for three cats.

So my parents and I went on a week long trip to visit family out of state. We told Cynthia to come feed and water the cats, and to scoop the litter box. Most importantly, don’t lock the handle of the door, because we only have the key to the deadbolt.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Cynthia locked us out. We arrived home after 12 hours on the road, desperate for the comfort of our own beds. We were met with an unyielding door. With a sigh I volunteered, “I can punch in the cat door and climb in the window.”

I slipped behind the bamboo outside my window and pushed in the cutout. A horrible insidious reek wafted out at me. I paused, prickling with foreboding. But I had a job to do, and by god I’d see it through. I hefted myself up into the window and my hand immediately landed in something wet.

Skin crawling, I pulled myself up and surveyed the darkened room as a miserable odor of decay and suffering poured out of the room around me. I could see dark shapes littering the carpet and it didn’t take a genius to guess that the cats had taken up hunting in a big way during my absence.

I pulled my hand out of the pile of vomit it had landed in and dropped into my onetime bedroom turned now into a hellpit of decomposing wretchedness. I turned on the light. I wished I had not turned on the light.

My eyes scanned across the floor, tallying as they went. Two dead birds, a dead baby rabbit, five dead mice, and one dead snake. I paused on my alarm clock, perplexed to see a stain of white on it. I stepped closer and saw a furtive movement.

The tally suddenly contained also: one live bird that had shit in several places, probably in pure terror to find itself trapped in a room littered with decomposing woodland creatures, which honestly, fair. I coaxed it out the window and finished the survey with five discrete piles of vomit.

I unlocked the door and let my parents in. They exclaimed in disgust at the horrible smell. We stood together in my doorway floored by the magnitude of neglect. The unscooped litter box was a subtle footnote in the tangible reek my living space. I disposed of the parade of ecological disaster, cleaned vomit, and scooped the box after a brutally long day on the road. The cats were fine, and happy to see me. They had a huge dish or food and water so Cynthia’s neglect at least hadn’t harmed them.

Then I slept on the couch while my bedroom aired out, the windows flung wide to dispel the uneasy ghosts of the hunted. I spent the whole night cursing Cynthia’s name for this evil she’d visited upon me. When my mom asked her, "Cynthia, didn't you see the dead animals?"

Cynthia responded, "Yes, they smelled so bad, I just ran in and out as fast as I could." I fully don't believe she did any caretaking, and I'm personally of the opinion that she locked herself out on the first day and never came back.

The next day my room had returned to a habitable level of smellscape and I gratefully crawled into my bed that night. I stretched out and froze as my foot brushed something cold and wet?

The final indignity: one last dead snake, inside my very sheets.

Fucking Cynthia.

[allpiesforourown]

Guys my schedule tomorrow is PACKED

6:30 wake up and cook breakfast

7:00 wake shizun in bed with breakfast, hand feed him if he's too sleepy to open his eyes

7:30 run a bath for shizun

7:45 get in the bath with shizun and soap up his nipples while he sits between my legs

8:00 fuck shizun in the bath

9:15 dry shizun off

9:30 help shizun dress, get distracted by shizun in pretty clothes, fuck shizun again

10:30 actually get dressed

10:45 walk around the peak, checking up on training grounds and giving disciples advice

12:15 head back to bamboo house for lunch

12:30 watch shizun eat, get fed little pieces by shizun

1:00 clean up lunch plates

1:20 cuddle shizun while he reads on divan

1:35 fuck shizun on divan

2:20 move to bed to cuddle

3:30 do our jobs :( shizun insists on grading papers

5:30 start on dinner

6:30 have dinner with shizun, pour him some wine and watch him get bolder as he drinks

7:00 fuck shizun on the floor next to the dinner table doggy style

7:40 flip shizun around and continue fucking him on the floor but missionary this time

8:25 beg shizun to let me fuck him outside the house so everyone knows he's mine

8:35 compromise and fuck him against the window

9:40 clean shizun up and get ready for bed

10:00 get into bed to spoon shizun and cuddle

10:20 start grinding against shizun's ass

10:30 shizun rides me while I guide his hips

11:30 go to sleep holding shizun ❤️

Someone who's good at time management help me I barely have time in the day to fuck shizun

[patrywoso]

9. Georgia Stanway

+18 SMUT

“Don’t be scared,” you enjoy it somewhat but you don't let on, admiring your handiwork as the tightly wound football player spins off the floor in bundles and bundles of rope. “This isn’t about hurting you or making you feel small. I just want you to feel good…”

“I feel like a rotisserie chicken,” Georgia murmurs, clearing her throat and blushing.

“Yes you’re right, rotisserie chickens are very delicious,” you nod, smirking and capturing a thigh to tighten it up a little bit. “I think we’ll get this knee a bit higher so I can watch that pretty cunt of yours do little twirls for me.”

“Do you have to be so crass?”

“Yes baby,” you crane down and kiss her forehead, push-pulling on the working ends to bring the thigh up higher to the bamboo. “I do.”

It had started with flirting around the idea, spoken about yet never with serious intention on Georgia’s part, she knew about the shibari classes, the workshops, that it was an interest you felt passionate about, but not a hobby she had the precious hours in the day to indulge in. Your relationship was one of quickies: shower sex, stadium sex, car sex, elevator sex. At first, you thought it was because Georgia really did only have so much time in the day. But, you knew Georgia far better now that you both had been dating for some months. you had come to realize she just got off on the exhilaration of possibly getting caught. Georgia was more kinky than she realised.

“The inside of my thigh feels a little sore,” Georgia observes almost clinically.

“I would be very worried if it didn’t, bratty girl.” you smile and undo her pristine ponytail into a cascade of glossy blonde hair.

You dig and rub your fingers into Georgia’s scalp, finding little pressure points on either side of the temple to relieve tension. Georgia can’t help herself, she sighs happily and the tightness in her shoulder blades visibly releases. The rope cradles her, suspends her, and keeps her arms in a box tie behind her spine, her thighs splayed and supported, clean suspension lines that are approximate and comfortable. “You look so fucking beautiful,” you whisper from the back of your throat, lips pressing to Georgia’s ear, teeth nipping the pinkened top of it. “Do you feel far away and dreamy yet?”

Georgia exhales and thinks, her brow wrinkling into a furrow as though she wants to deny it but her thighs are hanging apart and the evidence is plain to see. When she inhales, you push on the flat of her shoulder and send her slowly spinning around on her axis, like a little planetary body, like a little world in and of herself.

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” you laugh, sultry and low. “We have the whole evening ahead of us, remember?” you remind her. “You can take as long as you need to get there.”

“About that,” Georgia murmurs, eyes closed and struggling to be the disinterested onlooker that she was when the rope first went on. “I might have a business call to take in a little…”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“It’s important.”

“I don’t care.”

“If the phone calls then I’m answering it.”

“Oh, are you now?” you hum, glancing around the living room, and then your eyes land on the phone by the coffee table. “Tell me more, please? I like it when you’re grumpy.”

“Baby.” Georgia opens her eyes, determined to be in control and to have the final word. “If my phone goes then we’re stopping so I can take…..wait, what are you doing?”

“Dynamic problem-solving.” you bring the phone back towards the tied-up troublemaker. “Thumbprint, please. I’ll put your phone on airplane mode.”

“No.” “You promised me an undisturbed evening for my birthday,” you say sternly.

“One little phone call won’t ruin a whole evening.” Georgia tucks her fingers in her fists behind her spine and won’t budge.

“Give me your thumb, Georgia, this is your last warning.”

Georgia just smiles coyly and keeps her thumbs and fingers balled. “Sorry,” she somehow manages to shrug in her box-tie. “No can do.”

“Alright, have it your way.”

“What are you…” Georgia’s eyes grow wide as the arm pulls back, the shoulder swings and the phone is thrown through the open balcony doors “Baby!” She hisses.

“No more call,” you shrug and pick up her flogger. “You want to complain about it?” You twist the handle and show the crybaby the spreading falls of leather.

Georgia’s ribs swell outwards against the rope with a long, deep inhale of breath. She holds it, cheeks puffed, eyes fixed on the flogger that was about to punch holes in the plot points of her machinations.

“I’ll get to it later,” she says, much more diplomatically.

“You know I think a little polite deference is the only thing incapable of hurting you right now.” you lift your eyebrow, smirking and remembering the words you both had negotiated around as being possible greens.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Georgia licks her lips and closes her eyes.

“That sounds so pretty in your mouth little girl,” you quirk a pleased look, spinning the flogger around until gravity gathered up and concentrated the falls. “Does it feel right?”

Georgia pauses for the longest time.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And,” you wiggle your brows, striking the front of her thigh with a tame gentle thud. “I would like it if you made a point of using it for the rest of tonight, please.” Georgia nods but says nothing.

The strikes of the flogger are never too solid, never more than you feel Georgia will find pleasurable. The flogger whips the air, its bark far worse than its bite, striking the front of her thighs, expertly wrapping over the hip to catch her buttock.

“More please” Georgia whispers out of nowhere.

You grin when it registers in your brain.

“You’re forgetting something, baby girl.”

“More please, Ma’am.”

Georgia spins and twirls slowly in the rope, quiet, thrilled, straining, and sweating. In the moments she’s capable of speaking, she whimpers instead. You bury your fingers deep inside her little tight cunt, push-pressing into the tiny spot of heaven right behind her clit, palm dug against her swollen hood, edging her towards the gates of hell.

“Ma’am please, please, please…” Georgia’s eyes crack open. “Please can I cum?”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” you hum and slip your other hand up her belly.

The box tie makes Georgia’s breasts bulge and squeeze off her chest, nipples swollen, begging to be sucked, bit, played with, and squeezed hard until she breaks into tears. You do none of these things. You graze over them gently, circling, teasing them stiff and hard until Georgia is gritting her teeth and whining.

“Such a dirty, wet, messy little thing.” you remove your fingers and hold them up, webbing them, pushing them into hung crimson lips to be sucked clean. “Good girl, use your tongue. That’s it…” You slip the two fingers over the flat of her eager little tongue and make her gag and wretch into her fingers. “Good girl, give me your spit. What do you say Georgia?”

“Thank you,” Georgia mumbles incoherently against the fingers pressing down into her tongue. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Such a good, good girl.” you smile happily. “Tell me what you are.”

“Your good girl, Ma’am,” Georgia closes her eyes, embarrassed and thrilled.

“My good girl, huh?” you push your fingers back inside slick, swollen cunt lips. “You know I take great pride in pretty things that belong to me… maybe I’ll have to get you a collar,” you said while fucking her hard.

When Georgia whimpers and moans, it’s so much weaker and softer than her normal sounds. It’s the noise of a woman on the brink of her sensibilities, on the brink of new realizations about herself. You want to give her all and more, she looks so pretty like this, tied-up, spread open, pink, and puffing for air. She would look prettier with a hand wrapped around her throat, you think, but decide that will be more fun when it’s negotiated for another special evening, and there certainly will be another.

Fingers hilted far inside her cunt, curling against her g-spot, you are fucking her deep and fast until her hips are jolting and shaking in the air, you work her hard, relentless even. Her gleaming little asshole twitches and flexes. You grin, gathering saliva on the back of your tongue. When you hoicks a glob of spit, expert aim, dripping down her asshole, it does things to Georgia. You press your thumb into her ring, not penetrating, not delving too far, just pressing and circling against her slippery little hole. Georgia cries out and bucks her hips, forehead wrinkling, brows knitted, teeth clenching, her throat tense and rocking with want.

“Poor little baby girl,” you crane down and kiss her belly in sporadic little trails. “You feel so fucking drippy and desperate, princess, I can feel you clenching, you should be careful… I would hate it if you were sore tomorrow.”

“Shut up!” Georgia barks, giggling and moaning in the same breaths. It gives you an abrupt good laugh too.

“Fine baby,” you whisper and you fuck the clingy little cunt with your fingers, slipping out, smoothing your fingers over flush wet lips, circling her throbbing clit, pushing back in fast and deep. “You want to cum?”

“Yes please Ma’am, And.” Georgia nods frantically, gathering her breath. “Will you… will you put your thumb in?”

“My thumb in your butt?” you have to bite back the smirk.

“Please?”

“Well I would just hate it if it was too much for you to take kitten.” you grin and nip her hipbone, fingers curling and fucking her to oblivion. “But, if you’re sure”

“I’m sure!” Georgia almost wails. “I’m sure, sure, sure! Please, I can’t…” Georgia rocks her hips, desperate and close. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

“You’ll hold on as long as I fucking tell you to hold it, baby. God help you if you don’t.” you made no bones, warm and soft and indifferent. “There’s a good girl, just give up, there you go, it will be so much better for you when you learn to just let me make the decisions…”

Georgia finally cries. It isn’t thick horrible destructive tears, she weeps, bottom lip going, nodding slowly, melting into her helplessness. She cries, and it’s enough to soften the little malevolent god between her legs.

“There you go,” you hush, thumb dipping and pressing inside. Georgia inhales a breath too big for her lungs, stiff and on the edge of herself. “Jesus, you’re sucking me inside greedy girl” You feel her muscles tense and flex against your thumb.

“So good!” Georgia makes less and less sense, barely holding on to herself. “Please? Please, Daddy?”

You blink, registering the deference, a word that hasn’t been negotiated, and yet… sounds and feels so fucking perfect. You just nod into it, feeling it out, thrilled and aroused beyond reason.

“Okay baby,” you husk when her muscles get tight all at once when the poor little baby dripping down her wrist can’t take anymore. “You can cum for Daddy.”

“Thank you!”

Georgia cums in a rush, explodes all at once, a big bang in and of herself. You grin and feel her flexing pretty holes get tight, fucking, forcing them to take more and more despite the sensitivity. It makes Georgia blink away tears, makes her open-mouthed sob stay hung and silent, frozen, her brain stuck like a stalled engine. You fuck her harder, faster, thrumming against her swollen g-spot until you’re certain you got the right angle.

Then, you really make Georgia burst.

“There you go princess,” you hush and rub dripping fingers up and over her soaked, twitching swollen cunt. “Such a good, good, good girl.” you laugh, teasing a bucking, over-sensitive clit that twists and tries to escape your ministrations.

“S-sorry,” Georgia stutters out of nowhere, nervous and not quite sure of the mechanics. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…” She glances at you, then immediately looks away.

“What baby?” your brows furrow.

When you look down, taking stock of yourself, of your dripping wet t-shirt, your sprayed jeans, and the tiny puddle on the living room floor that would definitely need mopping. You nod and close your eyes, trying your hardest not to be pleased. “It’s okay, baby, that’s just squirt.” Your voice wobbles with amusement. “Georgia, it was very much intentional on my part,” you whisper and start the process of untying the suspension lines.

“Wait.” Georgia stares in disbelief as her thigh is slowly lowered back to the ground. “You… you can do that on purpose?”

“Yeah baby,” you knitted your brow together. “You want to try again later? Get you a snack, some water, put you in the bath first?”

Georgia’s expression is glittering, glowing, giddy, and pleased. It makes you feel pleased too. When Georgia has both legs back on the floor, curling and tucking up towards your chest as the rope is untied and takes off her shins, that’s when she finds her voice again.

“That sounds lovely baby.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The first thing you notice about this home is how posts appear to prop the upper sections up at a tilt. The 2002 contemporary home in Vershire, VT is perfect for the art lover. It's not old as far as houses go, but the 4bd, 3ba home needs some TLC and a good cleaning. They're asking $499K, and you get 14 acres of property.

What a lovely entrance.

These glass doors open directly into the living room. 2 steps and a stone structure to the right are the first things you see. You may know by now how I feel about glass doors- they give me the heebie jeebies.

There's a large rounded sofa that's built-in and next to it is a wood burning stove. It's not a very big living room, but it's a cozy sitting area.

To the left of the living room there's more seating and built-in sculpted tables made to look like trees. Two more stairs come up to the dining area and kitchen. Look at the bar in the curved blue shelving on the right.

The kitchen is colorful and cute. Look at the wall of storage. Are you seeing what I mean about a good cleaning? I think that's grease on the ceiling.

There is also a half bathroom with a bit of a dizzying array of mirrors and mosaics on the walls. The blue sink vanity is also interesting.

Coming in this back door, there's a foyer set up as a mudroom.

A full bath on the main floor has an industrial kitchen drainboard sink, a shower, and a tub. The tub has a great window for watching the kids or chatting with the neighbors. And, there's also a pantry or storage area behind this room.

Whimsical stairs with artsy sculpted railings and just look at that little hobbit door.

The floors look like stained cement and the walls in this large primary bedroom have some bamboo with orange accents.

This spacious bedroom is currently empty.

This bedroom is a nice size and looks like it opens to a terrace.

Wonderfully colorful bath.

The stairs to the 2nd level and bedrooms actually lead to the pool room first. Look at all the trees and that window on the right.

The pool room has steps to a fun loft.

Look at how cute the loft is.

Looking down.

You can get to the loft this way, too.

And, here is a wonderful art studio.

A patio with a fire pit.

The mountain scenery is just stunning.

And, here's another patio on the other side.

Looking out over the beautiful acreage from the terrace.

Colorful barn with a silly moose head above the entrance.

The road to the property.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/148-Private-Road-7-Corinth-VT-05039/304032263_zpid/

[aviiarie]

hii!! can you write kagaya and tanjiro’s reactions to a vampire demon slayer? with like, the full suite of powers (charming, turning into a bat, ability to see in the dark, sharp teeth). maybe they’re around tanjiro’s age and joined when he did?

BLOOD MOON — platonic tanjiro, kagaya & reader !

synopsis. how do they react to a vampire demon slayer? warnings. mentions of blood. notes. platonic. teen!reader. gn!reader. they/them used. fluff. headcanons. 1.7k words. this was pretty fun to write, thanks for the request anon! i hope this was alright :')

—TANJIRO

tanjiro would be lying if he didn't think there was something off about them. they were one of the few that had passed final selection at the same time as him, so he met them on the seventh day, just as the ubuyashiki children began to explain the demon slayer rankings. they were standing next to him, shifting their weight from foot to foot.

at first glance, they looked like the average demon slayer, with a sword in their hand and a weary but eager expression. but there was something strange about their scent; they smelled very distinctly of blood. he'd felt a little confused, but brushed it off quickly. they all smelt like blood, they had been fighting demons for a week, after all.

it was only after they were done with the orientation that tanjiro got the chance to greet them properly. he introduced himself with a warm smile, asking for their name. and when they opened their mouth to speak, he noticed a flash of white; two sharp canine teeth, resembling fangs.

after that, the details just started adding up. the smell of blood lingered long after they'd cleaned up from the battle, they shied away from standing in direct sunlight for too long, their night-vision was perfect, and of course, the sharpened fangs...

he was confused at first, but didn't voice it. who was he to call them out for their oddities, when he could quite literally smell their good nature? all of them were a little strange in their own way, it wasn't his place to question them on it.

it hit him one day when he was sitting by their campfire, watching the rest of the group sleep. inosuke was sprawled out across the dirt, zenitsu was curled up in ball, using his haori as a blanket, and nezuko was laying by his side. her bamboo muzzle had slipped away from her face as she left, exposing her fangs peeking through her half-open mouth. they were sharp little things, sticking out among the rest of her teeth. absently, he thought the sight of them reminded him of someone; they were almost identical to—

he suddenly jolted, like he'd been shocked. it was so obvious, how could he not have thought of it before? they were a demon.

they didn't need to be worried though, tanjiro understood! he carried his demon sister around in a box, he wasn't in any place to judge.

but he knew they might be hesitant to reveal it to the rest of the corps. that was alright! he would hold his tongue, until they were ready to tell him themself.

(it did bother him slightly, their peculiar traits compared to most demons. they were clearly averse to the sun, but didn't seem to be harmed from it the way nezuko did; he'd seen them run to find shade from the sunlight, but their skin didn't disintegrate into ash, only turning red and blistery. strange. he would have to ask about that sometime.)

when he does finally confront them, it's after a shared mission. the two had finished defeating one of a pair of demons, hurriedly making their way to meet up with shinobu, who had accompanied them.

he's a little nervous to bring it up, but he steels himself and blurts the question out.

“[name], are you a demon?”

they stopped in their tracks, almost stumbling over a root and falling to the floor. the look they fixed him was an odd blend of confusion, horror and amusement at the same time. “what was that?”

“are you a demon?”

“of course i’m not.” they laughed weakly. “what makes you think that?”

“well… the constant smell of blood was one clue. the fact that you dislike sunlight is another. you can see perfectly in the dark, you have sharp teeth… i figured it out a while ago, i just was waiting to ask you about it.” he paused. “it’s okay, you know? i’m not going to judge you.”

“i’m not a demon!” they protested.

“you don’t have to be self-conscious! nezuko’s a demon too!” tanjiro reached over his shoulder to cheerfully knock on the top of the wooden box, earning him a muffled noise that sounded somewhere between a growl and a cheer.

“i’m not though, i’m…” there was a hint of hesitation in their voice, a trace of reluctance. they seemed to push past it, long enough to blurt out, “i’m a vampire.”

the words took a while to register in his mind. “a… vampire?”

they fidgeted with the edge of their uniform, their eyes cast to the ground. “yes.”

“like… the blood-sucking kind? the… turning into a bat kind?”

“yes.” they pause. “that kind.”

“huh.” tanjiro thought about it for a few moments, turning over the word in his mind. “vampire. that’s not so different to a demon, is it?”

“a vampire, you say?” a soft voice cut smoothly into their conversation. the two teenagers jumped, turning to see the insect hashira herself smiling at them. she was staring at [name] rather intensely, like they were a bug under a microscope, waiting to be studied. “well, isn’t that interesting.”

—KAGAYA

it wasn't a secret much longer. after the news of their vampiric state was spilled, there was another meeting called at the ubuyashiki estate. this time, instead of nezuko, it was them on trial, as the master and the hashira decided what to do with them.

some argued that a vampire was no different than a demon, and they should be treated as such. others argued that they had spent long enough in the corps to prove themselves worthy of the title of demon slayer.

nezuko's successful trial seemed to work in their favour, as tanjiro fought on their behalf, arguing that if she could suppress her urge to eat humans, then surely they could too? the months of experience working in the corps, and the other slayers that vouched for them managed to sway kagaya into looking past their supposed 'threat' to the corps, and rewelcoming them as a demon slayer.

there were a few rules set into place, though.

for starters, they were under the same oath as nezuko; if they were to attack a human, they would be treated as any common demon and slain without a thought. there would be no second trial, no second chance.

secondly, they were only allowed to drink the blood of humans when it was given freely, relying on either donations or animal blood to satiate their hunger. that wasn't unreasonable, it was how they had been surviving thus far anyway. (tanjiro even introduced them to a friend of his, tamayo, who offered to help them with obtaining ethically-sourced blood.)

but the final condition was a strange one: they were to meet with kagaya himself once every month.

the request made them pause. what reason would he have to want them to visit him so frequently? upon being questioned, he assured them it was to just make sure they were doing alright and settling in okay, especially with their... condition.

when they visited him for the first time, he invited them to come have tea with him. the visit was quiet, punctuated by the occasional idle chatter, but strangely peaceful.

in between commenting about their last mission, kagaya started to carefully question them about their vampirism. how long they'd been one, how they had turned, where they were getting blood... there wasn't any accusation or sharpness to his words, only gentle curiosity.

he seemed especially intrigued by the abilities that they gained from it. charming was an interesting one, the ability to compel a person to do whatever they wanted. they confessed that they weren't as skilled in that regard, but he was impressed nonetheless.

their ability to transform into a bat caught his attention most of all. it was a useful skill, and would help them as a demon slayer if they were able to master it.

overall his reaction to them was... slightly underwhelming? i mean... he does live in a world of demons, having a vampire isn't much of stretch, but he's strangely calm about it all, save for the open curiosity he expresses towards their state.

it doesn't matter to him. he can see that their intentions for joining the demon slayer corps were sound, and there was no need to draw the situation out more than it needed to be. they were no different than any of his other children, and that was that.

“you’re early today.” kagaya smiled as they approached, bowing respectfully to him. “shall we walk?”

he waited for them to rise to their feet, falling into step beside him. together they strolled quietly through the garden that surrounded the mansion, the evening breeze gently brushing across their faces. dusk had already fallen, and the last stretches of day had begun to bleed from the horizon, leaving a bright full moon behind.

“i trust you have been well?” kagaya hummed.

“i have.”

“and your… particular needs are being met?”

they nodded sharply. “i’ve been receiving blood from tamayo, enough to last me a while.”

“that is good to hear.” kagaya smiled at them, all warmth and soft edges. “i’ll have to admit, i was rather concerned when i was first informed of your dietary requirements, but you seem to be plenty capable of taking care of them on your own without needing help.”

it was nerve-wrecking, when they were told they were to be put on trial for concealing their vampirism from the demon slayer corps. they were a touch too close to being a demon than any of the slayers were comfortable with, but kagaya seemed unfazed.

nothing about their state seemed to faze him; not the sharp teeth, not the bloodlust. he only seemed… curious. it was almost refreshing to have someone so interested in their condition, without a trace of fear or ill intention. most would treat them as a monster, no different than a wild beast, but kagaya was different.

it was relieving, and just slightly unnerving.

“you seem troubled.” kagaya noted. “is something on your mind?”

before they could answer him, he was giving them that warm smile again, and placing a gentle hand on their shoulder to guide them back towards the mansion.

“come, let’s go inside. i will have some tea prepared for us, and then we’ll have a proper talk. how does that sound?”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[thedevilsoftruth]

Mirror On the Ceiling ~ Loki x fem!reader

Warning: heavy sexual content. Breeding kink, dom Loki, foreplay and oral ( at start ), reader being forced to look at their reflection while being bred. Side fucking at the end. Minors dni!!

Summary: Loki is your husband and comes back home early after an excruciating night out with Thor and his friends.

Notes: So I have never posted a smutshot in my life, lol. ( Ps, my writing is reallllyyy easy to read ) I have like 12 other Loki smutshots I have written, and I just haven't really finished any or posted them. Anyways, although this one isn’t my best, I just wanted to post this one bc I really liked the concept of it, and I just couldn’t keep in my cluttered drafts anymore. ENJOY!!!

After a long steamy shower, you step out of the bathtub and grab your towel to dry yourself off. The fan was on and the door was creaked open so that the warm air could escape the room without fogging up the mirror. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you dried your wet body off with the towel, watching as the dripping water ran down your body only to be quickly wiped away. You hummed a random tune as you continued drying, enjoying the feeling of the cold air hitting your skin and cooling you down. Your husband, Loki, was off doing something with his older brother Thor and the guys. You found that pretty weird since Loki claimed he didn't like most the activities Thor would do, and especially didn't like being around his friends. But you hoped they were having fun.

You took your towel off of your body, exposing your naked form as you wrapped the towel in your soaking hair to dry that off as well. As you were drying your hair off, you picked up your phone to check the time. The time read, 10;34 pm but Loki wasn't supposed to be home until somewhere around midnight. how were you going to spend the rest of your night without your dear husband? Sighing, you put your phone back down and dropped your towel to the floor. You stood for a few moments and ran your fingers through your hair, deciding that you were going to spend the next few hours watching tv in your robe and in your bedroom. You picked up your towel and wrapped it around yourself once more before leaving your bathroom and heading for your bedroom closet.

Without looking, you tossed your towel into the bamboo laundry basket you kept next to your closet as you fixed your eyes on looking for your favorite robe. The silky emerald robe was nowhere to be seen, however. You furrowed your brows and begun to flip through the mound of hangers and clothes before you felt the air around you change as if someone were in the room behind you. Before you would turn to look, you felt cold hands wrap around your waist and a pair of warm lips on your sensitive neck, all making you jump and yelp. You turned around to see your beloved husband holding you flush against his body with a slightly unbuttoned black t-shirt on. He pulled away slightly and you could see the glint of mischief in his green eyes.

" I didn't even hear you coming through the door- " Your stammered words were cut off with your husbands lips meeting with yours in a passionate kiss. His hands moved to your arms and slowly ran up and down your sensitive clean skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into his touch, sighing into the kiss. He pulled away from the kiss shortly after and rocked your body with his sideways.

" You're home early. " you said simply, touching his strong arms around your naked body. He hummed, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

" I missed you. Stark was being a big pain in my ass. " Loki stated nonchalantly, pressing small kisses to your bare shoulder as you sunk in his arms in contentment. You gazed at your husband behind your shoulder to get a glimpse of his expression.

" what did you guys do? " you asked as you gave him a kiss you his pale cheek. He shrugged his shoulders.

" Thor made us go to this fancy bar to hang out since we all haven't talked in forever. " he said, his voice muffled in your neck as he spoke in between kisses. You smiled and nodded in understanding as you rubbed circles onto his upper arm. Loki pulled away from your body and let go of you completely.

" I hope you all had fun. " you spoke as You looked back into the closet and began searching for your robe, to which you finally found.

Loki scoffed at that response, his eyes scanning your nude body as it faced away from him, taking the silk robe off the hanger. He just couldn't take his eyes off your legs that flexed as you moved, seeing you like this was certainly a surprise but he did have a other plans for the both of you tonight. A smirk grew on his face and he took your hand and turned you around to face him directly.

" you won't be needing that, dearest. " he said in a low tone as he took the robe from your hand and threw it back into the closet. His eyes didn't move off yours as you both stared at each other hungrily. His arms wrapped around your waist once more, pulling you in for another passionate kiss. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, his lips sloppily moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. Your hands were pressed against his chest now, his muscles tensing under your touch. You pulled away to catch your breath, looking at him in his lustful gaze. His lips were wet and formed into a wide smile, which you returned.

Loki's hands traveled down to the back of your thighs, lifting you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and giggled as he pecked your lips gently.

He walked over to your shared bed and dropped you down carefully on the mattress. He crawled on top of you and his hands pushed down into the mattress taht was covered in black silky sheets. You felt his hips settle against yours as he rested one knee atop your thigh, leaning forward to capture your mouth again. The heat radiating from his body sent shivers running through you. You tangled your fingers in his dark curls, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss got deeper. He leaned back slightly to place soft kisses to your jaw and then to your neck. Your body was no mystery to him. He had explored you many times before this, so he knew which parts of you that were the most sensitive to you.

Loki parted his lips and abraded his teeth on your soft skin, sucking on it harsh enough to leave a mark. A few moans escaped you every now and then with his lips on your neck, your mind only focused on the pleasure of the moment. He pulled away with a loving gaze, pulling and hair out of your face so he could get a clear look at you.

" My love, you are absolutely stunning like this. " he said, his eyes wondering your nude body like he were trying to memorize every part of you. You curled your fingers around his inky curls and tugged them playfully, causing him to chuckle. His eyes darted back up to your beautiful eyes and he stared at you lovingly.

" would you like to start with a bit of foreplay, my beloved? " he breathed, his voice deep yet tender as it echoed throughout the large room. you nodded pathetically, completely out of words. His fingers went to the collar of his black buttoned down shirt, quickly unbuttoning it to reveal his beautiful torso. You stared an awe at his perfectly sculpted body, his muscular torso that flexed as he moved. His shirt slid off his shoulders and he tossed it off like it were nothing. Never once did his eyes leave yours.

Your fingers slipped out of his hair as he picked you up in his bare arms, setting you carefully in his lap with your back against his chest. He hummed in your ear, his hand moving down to your sopping cunt.

" already this wet for me, my love? " he teased you, his breath fanning across the shell of your ear as he placing kisses along your neck. His middle and ring fingers moved up and down your slick folds, feeling your hot juices dripping down on his fingers as he played with you. You arched your back and whimpered, his lip placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder as his fingers slipped inside your entrance. His thumb grazed against your clit, his other fingers pumping in and out of you for a little while and making wet sounds as they moved as far as they could in you.

" please, " you moaned helplessly, your eyes squeezing shut tight as he took his fingers out of you.

They shifted up to your clit and moved the small bud up and down. His pace was slow, occasionally becoming faster before slowing down and then going fast again.

" ah, Loki…I'm reaady-yy - ha! " you whined through needy moans and a cry of his name. His hand reached behind your neck and flipped your hair over your shoulder, revealing your exposing skin to his hot breath.

" ready for what? " his pace fastened, his voice gravely as he spoke. His fingers continued to move fast and rough, his lips exploring your shoulder and neck, leaving wet trails behind.

all you could do was simply moan and helplessly grab his arm as his fingers worked you into a frenzy. It was pitiful how just one simple touch from him could send you over the edge.

“ please, Loki— fuuck.. “ you panted, hoping your pleas would be enough for him. He growled against your ear, his fingers moving out of you and grabbing your knee to keep your leg spread nicely.

“ good girl. “ he praised, giving you a soft smile while he flipped you over so you were underneath him. His hands rest on your knees while he positioned himself nicely in between you. His head lowered down to your collarbone, giving you gentle kisses down your sternum. You could hear his ragged breathing as his wet lips moved against your sensitive skin. His lips made a series of kisses down your torso until he reached your lower abdomen. His hands shifted to the back of your thighs, spreading them wide enough for his face to go in between. His eyes darted at you through his brows, giving you a seductive stare.

“ now beg for me, bitch. “ Loki whispered huskily, his lips brushing against your sensitive nub of nerves. You moaned, your head thrown back as the pleasure of his kisses and licks caused waves of sensation to crash over your entire being. With the same two fingers from before, he twisted as much as he could fit into your tight entrance, making you moan louder and your hips jolt upward. His lips sucked on your throbbing clit, his throat humming and sending vibrations through your core in a way that made you feel intoxicated with pleasure.

“ L-loki! Please, j-just give it to me! “ you cried, arching your hips with your toes curling as he continued pumping fingers and giving your clit kitten licks. He hummed again, and you swore to yourself he was gonna be the death of you. His lips tore away from your bud and his finger painfully slowly twisted out of you. He moved the tips of his fingers up into a V while they spread your soaked flaps apart.

“ So eager for me to fuck your pathetic cunt, are you? “ Loki spoke with a smirk as he rose back up, magicking his way out of the rest of his clothes.You bit your lip, simply just wanting him to come and destroy you.

“ Don’t worry darling, I’m going to ravish you until you’re filled all the way with my seed. “Loki said, his voice barely above a whisper as he lined himself up with your opening, watching as you looked up at him through wide eyes. You lifted your hips upwards, begging him to push himself inside you. He smirked, his eyes roaming over your body as he leaned over you, planting his lips gently against yours before slamming into you roughly. You let out a loud cry of pain and pleasure, his name coming out of your mouth with heavy panting. The bed creaked a bit with his movements, his hips rocking against yours harsh like he hadn’t felt anything good like this in years.

The sounds of the two of you moaning and groaning filled the night air and bounced off the walls of your shared room. The room felt hot, your body sweating so much already and the heat of his own radiating off and onto you. You dug your fingernails into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to deepen his thrusts.

Loki intertwined your fingers with his as he leaned down to share another kiss with you, but it was rather sloppy this time. You both exchanged moans into each others mouths and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced with yours, your mouths moving together like it was the end of the world.

His hands passed from yours to the back of your thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

Lokis pace increased, almost all of his long length being thrusted into your saturated core. Your moans turned into screams and cries of pleasure. The sensation of his shaft pounding into you was like being hit with an intense wave of bliss, it completely left you breathless. His hand momentarily removed from your leg and covered your mouth, muffling your screams of delight. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, getting the feeling he was moving closer to your sweet spot.

“ Darling, “ You could hear Loki’s guttural voice whispering in your ear. “ Look up. “

Your eyes fluttered open, only to be met with your own reflection through a mirror staring back at you from the ceiling.

“ Watch yourself, y/n. watch yourself as I breed you in your pitiful state. “ He said, releasing his hand from your mouth with strings of your saliva detaching from your lips to his skin.

You felt like your body was on fire. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open, your head cranking back as your body moved back and forth with his merciless thrusts. The man was driving you crazy, the smell of your heated moment filling the air around you and the wet sounds of his shaft hitting the deepest part of you echoing in the room. His hand roughly grabbed your neck, forcing your eyes to open again.

“ Take it, my love. Take every last inch of my cock and every drip of my hot seed. “ He whispered huskily, his eyes never leaving yours. He drove his hips back before making one swift move forward and slamming all of himself into you, hitting your sweet spot in the process and making you scream louder than before. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets beneath you, slowly coming undone all over the sheets and his length ( which was still buried deep into you ) Your body was quivering, your hips and legs jerking as the warm liquid seeped out of you.

“ ride it out, darling. “ he spoke sweetly, removing his hand from your neck and then your legs from his shoulders so you could have control over your own pace. Weakly, you rolled your hips forward against as your orgasm soon came to an end. You felt shocks of pleasure continuing to overtake your body as you attempted to ride out your high. Unfortunately your body felt too weak.

“ nevermind that. “ Loki said with the click of his tongue, pulling out of you and then laying on his side next to you. You whimpered, your eyes opening to see the mirror still on the ceiling. You certainly had made a mess in the sheets.

“ Come here, darling. Allow me to help you. “ he cooed, watching you crawl into his arms like a sad dog. He kissed your temple tenderly and clenched your thigh, widening your legs so he could burry himself into you once again. He needed to finish off, it had been his mission all day long. Even when he was out with his brother, all he could think about was getting between your legs and breeding you so you could bury his child. It was something he had always desired, but today he needed it bad and he certainly go it.

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, letting his shaft to get deeper into like he had you before. Then, he started thrusting again. In and out, in and out. A little kiss here and a little kiss there every now and then. In, out. Your whimpers and cries continued, only letting out smalls moans every here and there but you ached and burned.

Loki promised himself he would be gentle with you for this part and continue to be in this same passionate position, but he was so so close. He just couldn’t control himself from rolling you on your back again and ramming into you like a hungry beast. Your chest heaved up and down as moans escaped your breathless throat, groans and small moans escaped his. Your fingers tangled in his inky curls, his length hitting your sweet spot repeatedly again—a lot more faster than you would have thought. You began screaming again and he helplessly moaned as he finally reached his peak. His hot semen shot into your stretched wet cunt, his breathing ragged as he gripped the sheets and his face buried in your neck. He gave your sweaty skin a soft peck before sitting upright and pulling out, though quickly noticing he was spilling out.

“ oops, don’t want any of this to be wasted, eh? “ Loki chuckled, holding his shaft in his palm to direct the white liquid back into your hole. You reached out your hand to touch his shift cheek.

“ I love you, Loki. “ you spoke hoarsely, still trying to catch your breath. He smiled and took your hand in his, giving your nuckles a kiss.

“ I love you too, darling. “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so I finished this reallly late at night and just decided to wing it, so sorry if it’s bad and there’s typos and some stuff doesn’t make sense. I don’t really feel like going back and fixing it!!!

[estellxli]

(small drabble before i sleep ;w; also it's been a while since I've posted lolol)

My Woman

Your shivering hands reached out for the door knob of your home. Smoke leaving your mouth as you walked in. Relief comforted your body as the warmth embraced you.

"Welcome home, darling." Your husband says, donning an apron. That's when your nose finally picked up a familiar scent, your lips tug in a smile. A smile he treasures.

"Here, let me." he says, as he takes of your coat, the fabric absorbing the melted snowflakes. He hangs it on the coat rack.

"Thank you" you say as your right feet goes behind the other, about to attempt to take your boots off. Just then, Zhongli kneels down to your surprise and grabs your left boot, waiting for you to raise it.

A giggle leaves your lips. This damned man, doesn't he know this gestures of his makes you fall for him more? It's bad for your heart.

"Famished?"

Feet free from its cage. His hands guiding you slowly, making sure you won't trip.

"Very"

He looks up with that devilish smile of his. You quite like the view up there, he reminded you of a cute schipperke.

Zhongli grabs your hand, his lips soft and smooth on your skin.

"Perfect. I made us dinner"

As he stood, you were reminded once more of how he's much taller than you. You can't help but wonder if you looked like a dog to him too, or a cat.... or a bunny.

Your trance ended as you were swiftly off the floor, your husband carrying you bridal style. A giggle leaves once more. Really, what is up with him today.

He brings the both of you in the dining room, sitting you down and moving your chair in for you.

Clearly, your nose didn't betrayed you as bowl of slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup is presented on your table. Zhongli watched you eat his dish in delight. He couldn't help but laugh at your pantomime attempt of expressing how good his dish was. You knew how much it was cooked with the utmost care and technique, using only the finest ingredients just for you. He loved doing things for you. And oh, how incredibly grateful you are for that.

"Finished, my dear?" you nod as you gulp the last sip of your water.

He needn't ask if you liked the soup. He knew you did. He knew, since he'll only give you the best and only the best.

"Come now," Zhongli stood from his chair and walked beside you. " — let's have you cleaned for bed."

The both of you sauntered in the bathroom, bathtub filled with water and bubbles foaming out. It smelled like lavender. Zhongli helping you take off your clothes ones more. Heat slowly rising on your cheeks. You've seen each other many times, but you can't seem to help it. Thankfully, the bubbles will hide it soon.

You dip your toe first in the bathtub, and surely enough, it was in the right temperature. Water spilled on the ceramic floor as the bathtub contained to people.

Zhongli sat in front of you, with his feet beside you, legs slightly bent as the bathtub was small for his size.

He placed the bathtub tray containing sweets, and pulled out a bottle of wine, and like the Zhongli you know, he rambles with insightful knowledge.

You exchange conversations while enjoying the desserts he prepared. Which then slowly becomes a water fight as you finish. The room filled with laughter and the floor becoming more wet as the water continues to splash. Closing your eyes and turning your head on the side in case a water splashes on your eyes. Words of conceding escapes your lips accompanied by laughter. The water on the tub slowly calms down.

Zhongli grabs your feet and placed it on his chest. Massaging it with the utmost care. You've been walking around Liyue all day to the point it was tingling.

He kisses the sole of your foot tenderly. "That tickles." a giggle, and a slight jerk on your foot.

He looks at you intensely, the flicker in his eyes didn't leave your notice. Your own foot was blocking the view of his lips, but you knew he was smiling behind it.

He kissed it once more.

"My woman."

[hai7ani]

THE BOY WITH THE MP3 𓅹 haitani rindou

sfw, canon-typical violence, angst, troubled past/abusive situations, city boy x island girl please proceed with caution

prequel to the home collection 𖠋

part i / marigold

You think Tokyo is suffocating.

Everyone moves fast. People are constantly in a rush and you don't know why. One time a man in a suit was running while speaking loudly into his Nokia and he knocked you over. Your Cola fell to the floor, school books scattered all over from your unzipped bag and an elderly lady helped you up. That was it.

The atmosphere is different than it was back home. It's noisy with music from advertisements and the stores are always so huge. One time you waddled in to a supermarket on your way home with the motive of searching for a packet of thing Mama asked you buy after school. You spent 10 minutes navigating through the aisles and eventually stopped in front a wall full of different things in different packets.

You're not so sure what exactly Mama wanted, only remembering the words cheap and powder fall from her mouth before she ushered you out the house and slammed the door.

"Excuse me," You pull at the apron of a passing store clerk and she bows down to your height with a smile. "I don't know what my mother wants me to buy, but she wants something powder that is cheap." You show her the coins in your tiny hand and she hands you a packet of salt with a pat to the head. "Take this too. Eat it on your way home." She passes you a bottle of colourful gummy bears with a warm smile.

That evening, you return to your room teary-eyed with a stinging, red mark to your left cheek.

Mama never let you buy groceries ever again. She throws the half-finished bottle of gummy bears in the bin when you show her and points an accusing finger at Papa on the the couch. She yells at him for not helping around the house. She screams at him for not teaching his daughter better.

His daughter.

You cry when you're reminded that Mama isn't your biological mother.

He aims a heavy bottle of beer at the wall behind Mama. It shatters and the sharp pieces fly everywhere. Beer stains the pristine white walls and Mama cries loudly. He calls her annoying and he pushes you to the side when he exits the front door.

You find shards of glass in your hair when you go to shower and they cut your fingers while you pick them out raw with painful hisses.

You decide you don't like going to Costco anymore, and you remind yourself to kill the lady when you see her next time.

Mama wanted flour, not salt. And you are allergic to gelatine. It says so on the emergency contact card hanging around your neck.

You go to sleep feeling itchy all around that night. Mama doesn't help you with your allergies anymore.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

School is boring.

People never talk to you and there's not much work to do. You understand the classes, or most of it anyway. Math was never your specialty. When Souma-sensei calls on you to answer the equation written on the chalkboard, you don't reply. You fiddle with your fingers while drops of sweat drips from your forehead to the worksheet splayed on your desk.

"Can you answer the question?" Sensei says your name louder this time and you mumble your reply quietly. The girl sitting beside you laughs and you blush. "I cannot hear you, girl." He moves closer and you look up into his furious eyes. "You're wasting everyone's time."

"I don't know the answer."

You stayed behind class to clean up after everyone as a punishment for not knowing the answer to Question 17. "It is easy. We've been through this topic many times. How can you still not know?" Sensei slams a hand on the table loudly and you flinch. He reminds you of Papa and you don't like it.

"I'm sorry." You don't look into his eyes when you say it and he whips out a thin bamboo cane from under the desk. The thin one always hurts more than the thick ones. "Cover your wrist." And you do it as he lands three strikes on your left palm.

You bite on your lip until it bleeds, tolerating the pain and waiting for it to end. From the corner of your eyes, you spot a certain brunette peeking in at the doorway.

"Are you okay?" Kirara mouths to you when Sensei is distracted and you nod.

I'll be fine.

Mama is called to school later to talk about your progress and you walk home yourself after.

"I do not want to see your face right now. You piss me off, girl." She pokes at your forehead and you cry in front of the school gate with many, many other people looking. Some of them laugh, licking at their cones of ice creams and some of them continue minding their own business.

"I bring you all the way to Tokyo for you to behave like this? Unbelievable." And she stomps off after that. Her expensive Gucci bag that you're sure Papa didn't buy for her hits you in the shoulder with a loud thud as she walks off. You see her through teary eyes that she gets into a car with a man who isn't Papa and they kiss and drive off soon after.

You do not go home after that.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

You come from a small town in Okinawa. Mama is from Hyogo and Papa is a local. He used to work at a factory full-time and Mama works as a nurse in the hospital.

You grow up as an only child with no cousins. You asked Mama once and she simply shut you down with a shake of her head. "Too young to know."

You don't ask her again.

And like every other eleven year-old in Okinawa, you like music and going to the beach. The shores are always so pretty and calming and you always tell Aaliyah, your best friend that you never want to leave this place with the wind blowing through your hair. She nods in agreement and tells you stories of the dangers of America along with the reasons why she doesn't want to go back there. Aaliyah plays Biggie on her brother's speaker and you spend the evening scraping your knee on the boardwalk. You feel determined to learn this new trick on your skateboard.

But this chapter ended drastically when Papa quit his job one day in the middle of Summer and you hear him discuss with Mama at the dining table of your old home. "Honey, let's go to Tokyo. You remember Kota? Yeah, he said he got me a job there, somewhere in Minato, but I'll have to go see it for myself first. Let's go now. He got us plane tickets cheap." You don't remember a lot other than Papa selling the house and sending Grandma off to a care center, and all of a sudden you're holding Mama's hand while standing in the heart of a foreign city.

Tokyo Tower shines brightly above you under the night sky and it hurts your eyes. "Are we in Minato?" You ask her with a squint and she smiles brightly. "Yes. We're gonna be so happy here, girl."

Mama squeezes your hand and drags you along but you don't feel convinced. You suddenly miss Grandma's hugs and Aaliyah's laughter as you mispronounce an English word.

Mama enrols you at a neighbourhood public school and gives you ¥800 for allowance whenever she feels like it. "We have to watch our money now. Do you think we are very rich?" She answered with a hiss when you curiously asked why she didn't give you the usual ¥1000.

You start saving your changes in your piggy bank that you hide under your creaky bed. You don't like the thought of Papa seeing it because you once saw him taking money from Mama's wallet when she was in the shower.

Papa hands you a bill when he spots you peeping. "Don't tell your mother." He pats your head with warning eyes. It didn't make you feel good, so you gave it back to Mama soon after he left the house. She hit you that night and called you a thief. "Where are the rest?" She yells as she flips your bedroom inside out. "I didn't take it, Mama. Please believe me."

Pieces of your broken piggy bank sits in the bin later with no more money in it. You squat beside it and try to piece them back together with bloody, wobbly fingers and teary eyes.

You mentally make a note to never give Mama back her money anymore. You tell yourself to let Papa go when he takes more of her cash. You swear to yourself you will make a lot of money in the future and give it to Grandma when you return to Okinawa.

But Grandma passed away shortly after you called to tell her just that. "Granny, please wait for me. I will come home soon with lots of money and I'll buy a nice house for you." "Okay, sweetie. I will be waiting for you. Please take care."

Neither Papa nor Mama let you go home for her funeral. You cried yourself to sleep the entire week with a broken heart and deep regrets while you mourn her death silently in your quiet bedroom.

And unlike back home, you don't have a lot of friends in Tokyo. Everyone else never talks to you unless needed and you don't talk to them either. You can never understand what they are saying; they speak so different than the people in Okinawa did. Everyone looks at you with lingering eyes and are never nice to you except for one girl.

Her name is Shimabukuro Kirara and she's in the class next door. You see her for lunch sometimes and she tells you about her day. But when her other friends come she says goodbye and leaves you alone at the quiet stairs.

You wonder if Kirara is happy. She always has a nice smile and you heard she has good grades, too. Her seemingly expensive schoolbag shimmers under the sun and she proudly shows it to the people who asks about it. But she is always nice to you, unlike the other people in school.

You wonder if you are considered her friend. You want to be friends with her, if not.

You're in the process of admiring the view of the city in front of you, fingers picking mindlessly at the grass beneath as you think about Kirara. What is her life like at home? Does her father throw glasses at walls when angry and does her mother ever hit her when she makes a mistake? You wonder and wonder and wonder.

Your eyes follow the cars that passes by highways, the warm yellow lights in tall apartments that goes off and on at different hours, the sounds of planes flying past in the night sky above.

You decide that you like it here. You look around and make it a permanent note to come here next time. Next time? That is if Mama doesn't murder you for not going home. Though you doubt she even cares.

"She did say she didn't want to see me." You mumble to yourself and pout as you hug your knees close to your tightening chest. You feel like crying but nothing comes out. Perhaps it is numbness? Or are you simply too afraid and tired to care anymore? You're not too sure. You are only eleven, after all.

A moment passes as you get lost in your jumbled thoughts. A boy walks up the hill and his clumsy hands drops his MP3 on the grass. "Shit." He curses and it catches your attention.

You turn around and see a boy about your age who is bending down and picking up the gadget that is still playing faint music. You recognise the beat (it's a favourite) and grow interested and you watch with sparkling eyes as he dusts off the dirt while clicking his tongue.

You take this moment to observe him.

A light green hoodie that says G.A.P., blonde hair in a high bun, round silver metal glasses perched on top of his nose, chubby cheeks that compliments him well and you notice the black ink that goes down his right leg under his red and black basketball shorts. You look back up and notice he isn't very tall and . . .

He's looking at you.

"What're you starin' at?" He asks rudely and creases his brows. You blink and fix yourself when you hear him speaking to you. "Oh, sorry." You blush when he doesn't look away.

"Why are you here?" You try to think of something. "I didn-"

"Who told you about this place? Is it Ran?" The boy is standing in front of you now and demanding answers. The MP3 is still playing Still Dre by Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg and you're getting distracted by it. You're not taking him very seriously despite the given situation. "Um, no. Who is Ran?" You stand up as well and find that he is taller than you.

He studies you for a minute before clicking his tongue. "Never mind." He turns around and hops on top of a wooden fence, balancing his butt on it.

Neither of you talk after that.

Grandma always told you to make a decision and stick to it. You nod to yourself.

You grab the handle of your school bag from the grassy ground and drop it on the foot of the fence beside him. He stares at you with a raised brow, "what are you doing?"

You don't say anything but hop on beside him, to which he scoots away and grows alert, hand gripping his MP3 tight for dear life and you take a peek at it. You see the words on the screen and you grin brightly.

"Dr. Dre, huh?" "What the heck-"

The boy blinks at you in confusion. You continue grinning and snatch the gadget away from his hands and scroll through it.

"I know a lot of these songs."

You scan through the playlists and grow even fonder when you notice him gaping at you. "Can I borrow this?"

He's quick to shut you down. "No," and he snatches it back. "Go away." He fixes his glasses with a frown.

You pout and look away, choosing to stare at the very interesting tree instead. He changes the song and Marigold by Nirvana starts playing. You grin and turn to look at his MP3 again but he's already glaring at you. "I said go away." He hisses.

"Can I stay here, at least?" You move and point to the other fence facing him. He ponders and clicks his tongue, waving a dismissive hand at you. "Whatever. Just don't talk to me." And you happily move over to sit opposite of him while hugging your bag.

The boy doesn't talk to you but he's very much aware of your every actions. The way you're bopping your head to whatever music he's playing, your lips that don't stop smiling and it's obvious to him that you're enjoying the atmosphere.

He decides to bite.

". . . How'd you know all these songs?" His voice is quiet when he asks but you perk up at his question.

"I'm from Okinawa. Some people speak English there and a lot of Americans visit yearly. They play great music, and I like music." You grin and he listens intently with as much comprehension he has for an accent that he doesn't speak. Both of his hands hangs in between his legs and the MP3 is now quiet. You wish he continued playing it.

But you continue, "my best friend is from The Bronx in New York City, but she lives in Okinawa because her father is in the military. She plays Hip-hop for me and teaches me English from time to time." You think of Aaliyah who has been contacting you through e-mail all this time.

The boy is confused when you finish.

"You're a girl, from Okinawa, and you know American Hip-hop." He frowns. You cock your head to the side, "why can't I?"

"Girls are supposed to be boring."

"I am not, I think." You grow angry all of a sudden at his words. "And why do you boys always look down on girls? It is not funny. We are plenty of fun."

He flushes when confronted with your angry eyes. No girl has ever made him feel this way before. "'S just . . . All the girls in my class talks about the same thing. 'N they like annoying me. I don't like that."

"Then they must be mean girls." You think of the group of girls in your class who takes a liking to you. Taking a liking to bullying you, that is.

"Not all girls are boring. And there's nothing wrong with being boring, anyway. Just have fun, be who you are. How I wish I can do it here in Tokyo. I miss being home."

He is silent as he processes your words. Perhaps he has been wrong all this time. Not all girls are the same. Just like how him and Ran are both polar opposites despite being siblings.

The boy comes to a conclusion and figures you aren't boring. You speak different and you listen to music different from the girls in his school. You probably like many other different things, too.

There must be a lot to find out about you.

"How long have you been in Tokyo?"

"Just a while. I got here in late July, sooo . . ." You count with your fingers, "maybe two and a half months. But I don't like it here." You shrug and he raises a brow.

"Hah? You don't like Tokyo?" You shake your head at his dismissive tone. "Nope." You don't give any further reasons and he makes a disgusted expression. "I have never met anyone that doesn't like it here."

"Of course you haven't. You live here, don't you?" You question and he nods. You think of all the reasons that has made you come to this conclusion. You don't feel too good. "Well, I don't care. I don't like Tokyo, that's it." You take a sip from your water bottle and close the cap with a loud clack. He sighs and lets it go.

"Why are you here then?" He asks, half-lidded purple eyes staring up at the stars above. He cannot see a lot of them tonight, and he gives up before glancing at you who is looking up too. It must've been brighter in Okinawa. And she has to stare at Tokyo skies now. The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

The two of you are so similar, yet so different.

Him, a city boy who goes to a private school in Roppongi and listens to Hip-hop all day. He talks back to authoritarian adults and slaps people who tries picking a fight. You, an island girl who spends (or spent) your days sunbathing and skateboarding at the boardwalk, drinking lemonade and doing what girls your age do.

You listen to the same music and stare up at the same sky. Only one's stars in the sky is brighter than the other.

He's just a boy, and you're just a girl.

". . . Ran didn't tell me about this place." You reply and he clicks his tongue. "I know that. I'm asking why are you here. It's late."

You don't feel like replying a lot. The boy waits for you to answer and you simply grin when you think about it. ". . . I'm running away from home."

It kinda feels nice to say. You're running away from your troubled and abusive home. You wanna say it more.

He blinks. "Why?"

You figure you'll let it out. You're here, he's here; it might even be the last time you'll ever see him.

Screw it.

"Mama wasn't nice to me today, so I didn't feel like going home, but I don't think she'll notice. I also saw her with another man today, I think they're dating. I don't know. It's confusing, I don't wanna think 'bout it."

You're reminded of the recent nights that Mama comes home late and Papa waits up in the living room drinking beer and watching TV. And when she doesn't return when the clock strikes 1, he gives up and goes to bed alone.

What's the big deal about returning home at 9pm anyway? Mama won't be home to see you come in, and Papa would be too drunk to even notice at this hour.

The boy hops off the fence with a huff and you look at him. He starts walking away with a lazy wave. "See ya."

"H-hey!" You stutter while hopping off and picking up your heavy schoolbag from the ground. "Where're you goin'?!"

"Go home. It's late. There's all kinds of people around here." He says before speeding down the hill. Ran's gonna kill him if he doesn't go back by 10.

"I-" you pause when the lamppost above you flickers quickly and suddenly-

It's dark. Absolute pitch black. And you're scared of the dark. You start tearing up.

You hear footsteps walking away and follow behind it timidly in little steps. "Hey. Please." You call out again with fat tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

You sniffle and the footsteps stop. ". . . I don't know how to go home." You try blinking the tears away but they don't stop. You don't like being left alone.

You hear the boy sigh loudly before a bit of rustling sounds through and suddenly, with a click, you can finally see again. He points his flashlight in your direction and you squint. He beckons you to come over. You hurry and his flashlight shines at the ground, leading the way of you to him.

"Where do you live?" He asks when you finally stop in front of him. You wipe your tears with the sleeves of your uniform and mumble out the address Mama forced you to memorise. "I have to go home by nine-thirty. Mama usually comes home at ten." He nods.

The boy takes the first step and you follow tightly behind him, a hand reaching up to tug at his hoodie and he blushes. He'd normally slap anyone's hands away if they touch a single hair on him but he leaves yours there. You don't let go until you finally see the city again.

He quickly navigates through the little alleyways like a pro and soon, you find yourself standing in front of your apartment complex at 9:30pm sharp.

"Bye." He says curtly and turns around to leave. You pull on his hoodie and he hisses when the fabric chokes his neck.

"What's your name?" There's a shimmering glint in your eyes when you ask. He can't find it in him to tell you no.

"Rindou. You?"

You tell him your name with a bright smile and bid him good night. It's the third time someone in Tokyo has asked for your name. Your eyes linger on the MP3 in his left hand before reluctantly looking away and leaving in clumsy steps. He stares at your disappearing figure as you go up the stairs and enter your apartment unit.

Rindou sighs and his bored, purple eyes flicker to the shadows hiding behind a lone lamppost.

"What do you want?"

A tall man emerges from the dark. "Who's that?" He smirks, a lollipop hanging from his lips and pervertic eyes gawking at your apartment complex. Rindou rolls his eyes with a click of his tongue.

He'd have never walked you home if he knew this would happen.

"No one. What do you want?" Rindou pushes again.

"Hehe," The man giggles cunningly and a few other taller men appear behind him. "To crush you, of course. And if we win, we'll get the little girl." He licks his lips.

Rindou doesn't return home until 11pm that night.

He holds the gang leader by his hair and hisses in his ear. "You leave her alone, got it? Forget everything that you saw today."

Rindou is capable of taking down a relatively strong gang all by himself, but Ran never lets him. Though only eleven, the younger son of the Haitani household who have always been into martial arts since he was really young trains whenever he can. He begged his mother to let him take martial arts classes in return for going to school and never missing a single day. He's up-kept his side of the bargain until now.

The poor man with broken nose and limbs nods quickly, a mixture of snort and blood dripping from his nose as he sobs, "I'm sorry! I swear I'll forget everything. Please let me go."

He throws him on the ground and sighs. The boy glances at your apartment complex again and sends a quick message to his brother on his Blackberry. He updates him on the newest gang out of many that has just picked a fight with him in the middle of the night. Rindou leaves out the part where he explains why.

To protect a girl he didn't even know.

He shoves the device in his pocket after finishing and leaves.

"I'm an idiot."

Rindou swears he will never see you again.

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ reblogs are appreciated!

here's the story of how reader ran away when she was eleven and first met rindou at the spot

[rendy-a]

I would like to request red panda Cater getting taken care of by reader maybe in the self aware au if that not too much >-<(its totally ok if it is)

I’m thinking this is related to this art piece by @spadesncrows that I reblogged.  Go check out that very cute art of Heartslabyul as animals if you haven’t already!

As you lay on your bed flipping through your game apps, a sudden burst of lightning has you isekai’d into a world that is a combination of the two games you were last playing; a zoo sim and Twisted Wonderland.  Now you are the beloved zookeeper of Ramshackle pavilion at Night Raven Zoo.  Some of the adorable animals you are charged with caring for seem oddly familiar to you and, by the way they crave your attention, you’d guess that you are somehow familiar to them as well.

Red Panda Cater

Cater knows how to play up his cuteness for a crowd.  He’ll spend hours of the day just gazing into the wading pool of his enclosure but, as soon as some guests arrive, he is up and rolling about the place.  Did you see how the adorable panda rolled right off that log and into the water?  How cute.  You smile at the satisfied guests and then it seems Panda Cater catches your eye and gives you a small wink.  See how he helps out?

Cater is a picky eater.  Most of the other animals in the zoo appreciate it when you bring them sweet fruity treats.  Panda Cater will take the fruit from you when you hold it out, but you notice he always will carry it off then.  Later, you’ll find it buried in his enclosure.  Please offer him bamboo instead.  He is running out of places to hide those sweets.

Cater is obsessed with your phone.  You try to avoid letting him get his paws on it but there have been a number of times you’ve turned around when cleaning his enclosure to notice him looking at your social media.  How did Panda Cater manage to turn on the phone and open the app?  It’s a mystery!  The cute selfies he accidentally(?) takes also go viral on a regular basis.  You think he’d be a natural influencer, you know, if he wasn’t a Panda.

You wipe your brow after finished the final sweep of the floor.  There!  Your task is done.  You turn to your curious companion and remark, “That’s it for another day.  I couldn’t have done it without your expert supervision.”  Panda Cater appears to nod sagely as though agreeing with the sentiment.  He never fails to make you chuckle with his antics.  “I think this causes for a celebratory photo, don’t you?” you ask him cheekily.  Cater’s ears twitch and turn, alert to the words you are saying. 

You pat your thighs in a gesture of summoning to your adorable partner.  Panda Cater is familiar with this gesture by now and quickly ambles over and stands on his hind paws, reaching up with the front ones as though begging to be picked up.  You smilingly oblige, carefully lifting him into your arms.  Then you shift him to one arm and ready your phone.  Cater looks at it knowingly and lets out a trill.  “Just wait, I’m putting on your favorite filter,” you tell him.  Then you are ready.  “Ok, smile!” you command in an upbeat tone.  You and the panda make a cute pose and you click the photo button.  “There!” you say cheerfully.  Cater appears to disagree, giving you a trill.  “What, another?” you ask him.  He doesn’t answer but looks into the camera with focus.  “Alright, one more,” you tell him obligingly.  Then you strike another pose and take the photo.  Another trill emerges from Panda Cater.  You look at him wearily, but he is already preparing another pose.  This might be a long night.

[beautyandlifestyleblog86]

Ways to practice eco-friendly living in your home

1. Reduce energy consumption:

- Install energy-efficient appliances and LED light bulbs.

- Turn off lights and unplug electronics when not in use.

- Use natural light as much as possible.

- Set your thermostat to a lower temperature in winter and higher in summer.

- Insulate your home properly to reduce heating and cooling needs.

2. Save water:

- Fix any leaks in faucets and toilets promptly.

- Install low-flow showerheads and faucets.

- Collect rainwater for watering plants.

- Only run the dishwasher and washing machine with full loads.

- Use a broom instead of a hose to clean outdoor spaces.

3. Practice waste reduction:

- Recycle paper, plastic, glass, and metal.

- Compost kitchen scraps and yard waste.

- Opt for reusable products instead of disposable ones (e.g., cloth napkins, rechargeable batteries).

- Avoid single-use plastics, such as plastic bags and water bottles.

- Use a reusable shopping bag.

4. Use eco-friendly cleaning products:

- Choose natural, non-toxic cleaning products or make your own using ingredients like vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.

- Avoid products containing harmful chemicals that can harm the environment and your health.

5. Grow your own food:

- Plant a garden to grow vegetables, fruits, and herbs.

- Use organic and natural fertilizers instead of synthetic ones.

- Compost food scraps to enrich the soil.

6. Opt for sustainable materials:

- Choose furniture made from sustainable materials like bamboo or reclaimed wood.

- Use eco-friendly flooring options like bamboo, cork, or reclaimed hardwood.

- Select paint and other finishes that have low or no volatile organic compounds (VOCs).

7. Reduce plastic waste in the kitchen:

- Use glass or stainless-steel containers for food storage instead of plastic.

- Replace plastic wrap with beeswax wraps or reusable silicone covers.

- Use refillable water bottles and avoid buying bottled water.

8. Conserve energy in the kitchen:

- Use energy-efficient appliances.

- Cook with lids on pots and pans to retain heat and reduce cooking time.

- Opt for smaller appliances like toaster ovens instead of full-sized ovens when possible.

9. Encourage sustainable transportation:

- Use public transportation, walk, or bike whenever possible.

- Carpool or arrange a car-sharing service with neighbors or colleagues.

- Transition to an electric or hybrid vehicle if feasible.

10. Educate and involve your family:

- Teach your family about the importance of eco-friendly practices and involve them in the decision-making process.

- Encourage everyone to adopt sustainable habits and lead by example.

- Discuss environmental issues and brainstorm new ideas for greener living.

[tk-duveraun]

12/? Luo Binghe is SO NORMAL about Shen Yuan

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 (here), 13

Read up through even numbered parts on Ao3

Shen Qingqiu's sneer would have been super effective against an actual disciple, but since Luo Binghe was, still, an adult stuck in a child's body he only felt the need to stomp his foot in anger. This was a real threat!

"Disciple Luo must have quite the opinion of himself to think he found a weakness this master did not. Has becoming a personal disciple of Shen Qingchun perhaps given him ideas above his station?"

"Jiu-ge! Enough." Shen Yuan waved his fan at Shen Qingqiu in Luo Binghe's defense. Truly, it was enough of a gift to make him forget the dirt and spiderwebs caught in his hair. "Disciple Luo should clean himself up and then report to this Master's office."

Luo Binghe washed up quickly. He didn't throw the robes away. If nothing else, the embroidery could be used for the outside of qiankun pouches or other accessories in the future. If he was still hell bent on seducing Shen Yuan as soon as possible, he would have appeared with his hair down and slightly wet to coerce his wife into helping, but sadly he used qi to finish drying his hair and then tied it up neatly himself.

Once inside the Bamboo House, Luo Binghe prepared tea. He left it on the table before Shen Yuan and then sat pointedly away from both his master and the table with his clothing impeccable. He had considered leaving tea preparation to another disciple, given the specifics of the Original Goods' seduction attempt, but Shen Yuan so obviously preferred his tea that he'd conceded the point.

"Can this Master assume Disciple Luo retrieved his Ning-shijie's kittens?" Shen Yuan said. He lifted his cup of tea and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the fragrance. His serenity could truly stop wars. IRS Fandom had called him Xianxia Helen of Troy and they were right.

"Answering Shizun, the kittens have been reunited with their mother in the girls' dorm." Luo Binghe looked directly, but politely at Shen Yuan. Every inch of his posture was perfectly tailored to not evoke those memories. Even if Shen Yuan didn't notice consciously, he remained relaxed.

"Good, good. Now, as to the array… Is Disciple Luo aware this Master is a master of arrays?"

Oh. It seemed so obvious in hindsight. A complex array under the floor of an array master's house.

"Ah… This Disciple…" Luo Binghe had woken up in a fucking array not too long ago. What an idiot. "That is to say, Shizun is best known for his interests in beasts and creatures."

Shen Yuan chuckled behind his open fan, but the crinkled skin around his eyes was a revelation. "Indeed. Shen Qingqiu controls the narrative in and around the sect and ensures people only remember what he wants them to. It's a critical part of Cang Qiong Mountain's defensive strategy."

"This Disciple has much to learn," Luo Binghe said. He'd really been leaning on his adult knowledge from the modern world. Having finished university had really given him a big head. This world was different to its foundations. Given how expansive his sight line was from Qing Jing Peak he wasn't even sure the world was round.

And, perhaps, he hadn't been giving Shen Jiu enough credit. His primary role in IRS was "cockblock" and he was, by intention, a deeply unpleasant person to be around. Thinking about it, that was likely another layer to his scheme. If everyone perceived him as a petty bastard, even if he was also that, they wouldn't look to see if he was doing anything under the surface.

It might be worth trying to foster a better relationship with Shen Jiu. Sure, Luo Binghe had experience from the trenches of the IRS forums, but this world was full of people salivating over his wife; he would need to train diligently.

Shen Yuan cleared his throat, instantly snatching Luo Binghe's full attention.

"Now, Disciple Luo must consider carefully, did anyone else become aware of the array under this Master's home?" Shen Yuan's gaze was sharp, piercing and unusually serious.

It took a moment, but Luo Binghe realized his meaning. He shook his head. "This Disciple is able to… sometimes prevent the dream demon from monitoring him directly. He is not currently able to observe this Disciple."

Shen Yuan's entire body relaxed at once. He set down his fan and took a sip of tea. "Good, good."

"Shizun, the array… What is…"

"Nothing Disciple Luo need concern himself with." Shen Yuan again picked up the mantle of teacher. Every switch of his demeanor was amazing to watch. "Disciple Luo is only a child and should focus on his studies."

"Of course, Shizun."

"Now, if Disciple Luo has energy, he should repair the siding so that nothing else thinks to make a home under this Bamboo House. If not, instruct Ming Fan or one of the others."

"This Disciple will see to it." Luo Binghe stood and gave his respects before leaving.

He needed the manual labor to put his thoughts in order. Shen Yuan not leaving the sect alone and protecting his house with such a powerful array were surely connected. Did Shen Yuan know he was in a world where everyone and most things wanted a bite of his peach? Unlikely, given how he acted with Liu Qingge, interactions Luo Binghe had seen first hand.

He no longer trusted anything he'd read in IRS. Snowballing had either written the shallowest possible story on top of intense world building or the System was playing games. Either way, IRS wasn't a reliable source.

Which left the question: what was Shen Yuan afraid of? In the memory, Shen Yuan hadn't recognized Linguang-jun's name when Luo Baixiao said it. But if it was Linguang-jun Shen Yuan feared, the demon may not have identified himself in the past.

But then why would he accept his suit in a future arc?

Luo Binghe frowned at the wood in his hands. There was no circumspect way to copy down the array under the Bamboo House. It was too large and too obscured by the insulation for it to be copied quickly. And even if he somehow managed to draw it out, it was possible Shen Yuan created it himself. It would be near-impossible to figure out what exactly it did or guarded against.

Luo Binghe sighed and patched the hole.