#click vinyl flooring

[enmansiflooring]

Do you want to know more about the LVT flooring?

Luxury Vinyl Tile combines the stunning look of wood and stone with unmatched durability and easy maintenance. Perfect for any room, LVT offers a variety of designs and installation options to fit your style and needs.

[floorings101]

Modern Architectural Trends: The Rise of Vinyl Ramp Profiles

In the ever-evolving landscape of modern architecture, the pursuit of inclusive design and accessibility has become an integral aspect of creating spaces that cater to diverse needs. Among the innovative solutions contributing to this ethos, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as versatile and aesthetically pleasing components, seamlessly blending functionality with design. This article embarks on a journey into the realm of vinyl ramp profiles, exploring their significance in modern architecture, their adaptability in design, and their transformative role in fostering accessible environments.

Vinyl ramp profiles represent more than just a means of facilitating mobility; they embody a commitment to breaking down barriers and ensuring that spaces are welcoming to everyone. As we delve into their applications in modern architecture, we will uncover the versatility of these profiles in both design and function, examining how they harmonize with the principles of inclusive architecture.

From residential spaces that prioritize ease of movement to commercial environments striving to comply with accessibility standards, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in shaping the accessibility narrative. In this exploration, we will unravel the various design possibilities these profiles offer, providing architects, designers, and homeowners alike with insights into how vinyl ramp profiles can be seamlessly integrated into modern architectural styles.

As we navigate through the intersections of form and function, this article aims to showcase the transformative potential of vinyl ramp profiles in modern architecture. These unassuming components not only bridge physical gaps but also bridge the gap between practicality and aesthetics, demonstrating that accessibility in design can be both purposeful and visually appealing. Join us on this journey into the world of vinyl ramp profiles, where inclusivity meets innovation, and spaces are crafted to be truly accessible for all.

Versatility in Design and Function

In the dynamic realm of modern architecture, the integration of accessibility features has evolved beyond mere functionality to encompass a seamless fusion of design and purpose. Vinyl ramp profiles stand out as exemplars of this paradigm shift, offering unparalleled versatility in both aesthetic adaptability and functional efficiency.

Inclusive Design Principles

Adapting Spaces for Accessibility:

Vinyl ramp profiles serve as instrumental elements in the implementation of inclusive design principles. They provide a means to seamlessly integrate accessibility features into the architectural fabric, ensuring that spaces are welcoming and navigable for individuals with varying mobility needs.

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles allows architects to envision spaces where accessibility is not an afterthought but an integral part of the design process.

Seamless Transitions with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

The versatility of vinyl ramp profiles lies in their ability to create smooth transitions between different elevations without compromising on design aesthetics. These profiles can be tailored to match the existing flooring, ensuring a cohesive and visually pleasing integration.

By facilitating seamless transitions, these profiles contribute to a design ethos that embraces diversity and prioritizes the creation of spaces where everyone can navigate with ease.

Aesthetics and Material Options

Exploring Design Possibilities:

Vinyl ramp profiles come in a myriad of designs, allowing architects and designers to explore a spectrum of possibilities. From sleek and minimalist to textured and patterned profiles, these elements can be customized to align with the overall design language of a space.

This exploration of design possibilities goes beyond mere accessibility solutions; it transforms these profiles into design elements that contribute to the overall visual identity of a space.

Vinyl Ramp Profiles in Harmony with Modern Architectural Styles:

Modern architecture often embraces clean lines, open spaces, and a minimalist aesthetic. Vinyl ramp profiles, with their contemporary designs and material options, seamlessly align with these architectural styles, becoming integral components that enhance rather than detract from the overall design vision.

The ability of vinyl ramp profiles to complement modern architectural styles further emphasizes their role in creating environments that are both accessible and visually cohesive.

In the synthesis of design and function, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as transformative elements that go beyond their utilitarian purpose. They embody the essence of inclusive design, where accessibility is seamlessly woven into the fabric of architecture, ensuring that spaces are not only accessible but also visually captivating. As architects and designers continue to explore the potential of vinyl ramp profiles, the boundaries of inclusive and aesthetically pleasing architecture are continually pushed, fostering environments that embrace diversity in both form and function.

Application in Residential and Commercial Spaces

Vinyl ramp profiles, with their versatile design and functional adaptability, find compelling applications in both residential and commercial settings. Their ability to seamlessly integrate into various architectural styles while enhancing accessibility makes them invaluable components for crafting inclusive environments in diverse spaces.

Residential Accessibility

Integrating Vinyl Ramp Profiles for Home Accessibility:

In residential architecture, the need for accessibility often arises without sacrificing the aesthetic appeal of the living space. Vinyl ramp profiles offer a discreet yet effective solution, allowing homeowners to create barrier-free transitions between different areas of the home.

Whether incorporated into entryways, thresholds, or indoor spaces, these profiles become discreet aids that enhance accessibility without compromising the overall design integrity of a residence.

Design Considerations for Residential Spaces:

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles extends to various design considerations within homes. From ensuring wheelchair access to different rooms to creating smooth transitions in bathrooms and kitchens, these profiles cater to the diverse needs of residents.

Homeowners and designers can select profiles that complement existing flooring materials, ensuring a cohesive design that prioritizes both aesthetics and accessibility.

Commercial Accessibility

Enhancing Public Spaces with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

In commercial architecture, where public accessibility is not only a necessity but often a legal requirement, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in creating universally accessible spaces. Entrances, corridors, and common areas benefit from the seamless integration of these profiles, ensuring equal access for all.

The discreet nature of vinyl ramp profiles allows businesses to prioritize accessibility without compromising the overall ambiance of their establishments.

Compliance with Accessibility Standards in Commercial Design:

Vinyl ramp profiles contribute to compliance with accessibility standards such as the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). By providing a gradual incline for wheelchair users and individuals with mobility aids, these profiles ensure that commercial spaces are welcoming and inclusive.

Their use in commercial architecture signifies a commitment to social responsibility, creating environments that cater to the diverse needs of patrons and visitors.

In both residential and commercial applications, vinyl ramp profiles transcend their functional role to become integral components of architectural design. As architects, designers, and homeowners embrace the principles of inclusivity, the incorporation of these profiles ensures that accessibility becomes a seamless and harmonious aspect of the built environment. From private residences to bustling commercial establishments, vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the transformative potential of design solutions that prioritize both form and function.

Conclusion

In the tapestry of modern architecture, where inclusivity is a guiding principle and design innovation knows no bounds, vinyl ramp profiles stand as silent champions of accessible spaces. As we conclude our exploration into the transformative role of these profiles in contemporary architecture, it becomes evident that they are more than functional necessities – they are integral components that bridge the gap between universal accessibility and striking design.

Vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the essence of versatility, seamlessly adapting to both residential and commercial settings. In homes, they discreetly enhance accessibility, providing smooth transitions without compromising the aesthetics of the living space. In commercial environments, these profiles become symbols of a commitment to inclusivity, ensuring that everyone, regardless of mobility, can navigate public spaces with dignity.

The beauty of vinyl ramp profiles lies not only in their ability to facilitate accessibility but also in their capacity to harmonize with modern architectural styles. From minimalist designs that complement clean lines to textured profiles that add visual interest, these elements showcase how inclusive design can coexist seamlessly with the overall aesthetic vision of a space.

As architects, designers, and homeowners continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in modern architecture, vinyl ramp profiles remain at the forefront of this evolution. Their discreet yet impactful presence signifies a shift towards environments that prioritize the needs of all individuals, creating spaces that are not just visually captivating but universally accessible.

In the journey towards a more inclusive built environment, vinyl ramp profiles serve as a reminder that thoughtful design solutions can transcend their practical roles to become transformative elements. By weaving accessibility into the very fabric of modern architecture, these profiles contribute to a world where spaces are not defined by limitations but enriched by the diversity of those who inhabit them. May the integration of vinyl ramp profiles continue to shape the narrative of modern architecture, creating environments where everyone is not only welcomed but empowered to navigate and thrive.

[dinncon]

carpets and flooring

Discover a wide selection of high-quality carpets and flooring options available in your local area. Our collection features a variety of styles, colours, and materials to suit any aesthetic and functional requirement. Whether you are looking for plush carpets to enhance comfort in your living space or durable flooring solutions for high-traffic areas, we have the perfect products to meet your needs.

[medinaflooringcontractors]

Budget-Friendly Tile Installation: Tips for Saving on Costs

Before diving into any purchases, thorough planning is crucial. It's beneficial to research the costs associated with different types of tiles, as they can vary widely in price. Consider options like SPC vinyl click flooring, which offers durability and an attractive appearance at a fraction of the cost of traditional materials. By comparing prices across various suppliers, you can snag the best deals available.

For more information visit us:

https://ext-6485574.livejournal.com/412.html

[floorings101]

[digital-1-marketing]

Invest in SPC Vinyl Click Flooring: Long-Lasting Solution

SPC Vinyl Click Flooring is a revolutionary product, providing an excellent alternative to traditional flooring types. Combining the strength of stone and the resilience of plastic composite, it offers unbeatable durability and an aesthetic appeal that’s hard to surpass. This innovative floor covering material is crafted with a dense core that resists impact, wear, and water damage, thereby offering an extended lifespan compared to other flooring options.

[dulcento]

cw ۫ ꣑ৎ actor satoru gojo x fem. reader, angst, foul language, hurt no comfort, feminine pet names, mentions of cöck, he just sucks ◟ 2.3k wc

lola’s lip service : beta read by the lovely @kisstoru, thx bunny xxx

as the music in the club shifts to a sensuous beat, it pales in comparison to the steady drum of anger coursing through your veins at the scene filling your vision.

if the grip on your martini glass was any tighter, jagged shards would scrape your hand, vodka searing each gash as if they were set on fire.

and yet… that’d be nothing compared to the sting of watching your boyfriend, a famed actor satoru gojo, flirting with another woman twenty feet away from you.

your relationship with the white-haired man started rocky, for obvious reasons. coming from two different worlds would cause a strain on any relationship. satoru, being used to the limelight and attention, saw nothing wrong with late nights out in los angeles, liquor, and various women throwing themselves at him under the guise of being his ‘fans’. after all, it came with the lifestyle of being ‘the sexiest man in hollywood’.

you, on the other hand, saw everything wrong with it.

you’ve lost count of how many times you and satoru would argue over the violation of your boundaries. yes, your boundaries because if you’ve learned one thing while being in a relationship with satoru… boundaries? he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. like now, as you gawk at the sight of satoru’s slender fingers gingerly tucking that girl’s hair behind her pierced ear, fingertips grazing over the industrial bar through her cartilage.

bile rises from your gut, threatening to make your dinner reappear in chunks at the lustful gleam in his eyes as his cerulean attention flints to that girl’s cleavage. your body heat reaches scorching temperatures, a thin layer of sweat materializing on your flesh from the maelstrom of emotions clouding your psyche. fury, sadness, with a heaping dose of disappointment crawls up your throat, constricting your airway, making it hard to breathe, pressure building behind your sinuses.

damn it, not now, not—

your thoughts short-circuit when you catch a glimpse of that girl pressing her tits against satoru’s sculpted chest, his sizable hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer. it was as if your tears disintegrated from your very eyes, filling your scleras with flames, pupils dilating in ire. slamming your glass on the round table, you shoot up to your feet, saint laurent heels heavily clicking against the vinyl flooring as if they’re made of lead, bringing you closer to the object of your vexation.

“yeah? you wanna taste, pretty gi— hey!” satoru yelps when your hand curls around the back of his leather jacket, yanking him away from the disgusting atmosphere he created with that girl. “‘toru, let’s talk outside,” your tone signifying no question was asked, and judging by his threaded brow raising at said tone, he knows it was a demand.

“hm? what about?” satoru teases, playfulness dancing in his cyanic irises. your gaze hardens into an ominous glare, “now, satoru,” ice wrapping around each syllable of his given name. his lids widened slightly, a shiver of fear running up his spine before retracting to their relaxed state. he can feel the eggshells cracking under his feet. satoru decides it’s better to tread lightly as to not spur you on… for now.

he nods, leaving cash on the bar top for his tab before rising to his feet from the uncomfortable stool. as he moves to walk behind you, a hand lands on his bicep, the muscle dwarfing the sickly appendage almost comically. “leaving me already, handsome?” a voice, akin to nails on the chalkboard rings in your ears, making your nose scrunch up in distaste.

satoru’s attention catches hers, a stupid smirk curling up on his face. “sorry baby, gotta talk to her real quick,” he replies, coyness infesting his tenor, your neck cracking with how hard you did a double take. hearing ‘baby’ roll of satoru’s tongue, all honeyed and sweet, towards some trollop, makes smoke come out your ears.

“i’ll be here,” she giggles, the sound making your ass itch. satoru winks… winks! at her, turning around to face you. he flinches back once he sees how close you are to him. “whew, you scared me, baby,” his blood pressure leveling once more. he should be scared, you think to yourself, eyes scanning his frame before walking towards the exit, satoru trailing behind you.

the velvet-padded door opens, causing the autumn breeze to kiss your skin, tapering off the jitters in your bones a tad. silent tension blankets you and satoru as the constant thump of footfalls fill the dead air. satoru, can’t help but admire you from behind. you can almost feel his eyes fucking you from top to bottom as you both walk together towards the parking lot.

is he that fucking clueless about your mood?

leaning your ass against the hood of your bentley, crossing your arms over your ample chest, “explain,” stern vocal cords slicing through the air like a katana through flesh. satoru’s features screw up in mockery, “whaddya mean, princess?” faux ignorance laced through each vowel, creases forming in between your brows. your acrylics dig into the plump flesh of your tricep, leaving crescent marks on your once unblemished skin.

it’s times like this when you wonder how you fell in love with satoru.

letting out a huff, pinching the bridge of your nose, you utter, “this is not the time to act like something’s funny, satoru.” a child-like frown downturn on his face, grumbling, “you’re no fun, baby,” as his spine straightens. you feel a sliver of your irritation subside at him taking this conversation seriously. you try not to get your hopes up too much. one minute he’s communicating and listening, the next minute he’s cracking jokes, dismissing your worries as quickly as they came.

“it was jus’ a little flirting, baby. what of it?” satoru nonchalantly smiles, his mitts residing deep in his jean pockets, indifferent. you scoff. so much for him taking things seriously.

“seriously?” you question, annoyed.

“why? jealous? awww, don’t be jealous, baby. you know—” you cut satoru off by slapping away his hand as it was about to cup your cheek. “jealous of who, exactly?” you spit, vexed by his mocking tone. he chuckles, “oh come on, you’re a smart girl. figure it out,” twirling a stray lock of your hair around his finger. you push his hand away once more, fed up with his antics.

“do you just not give a fuck about me?”

satoru’s grin drops from his face at your pained expression. exasperation covered his own as you snapped at him. “what’s wrong this time?” he inquired, shifting his weight to his other leg. with how hard you rolled your eyes, you’re surprised they didn’t fall out of your skull.

this time?!

the vein on the side of your neck bulges at his complete lack of awareness. “just answer truthfully. why were you flirting with that girl?” at this point, you’re over it, over him. there’s no use in beating around the bush. no use in acting unbothered when you are bothered. satoru stares at you, boredom etched on his face. “it’s not rocket science as to why,” he scoffs.

if you didn’t have self-control, you would’ve punched him square in his gums. “apparently it is ‘cause i don’t understand it,” looking into his eyes, demanding an answer. the fact that after a year of being his girlfriend, having the same fights over and over, he still can’t comprehend why you’re upset right now.

and that fact hurts you.

“i felt like it. besides, she made it easy for me,” satoru shrugs, adjusting his sleek rolex before smoothing down his black shirt. “i mean, i can’t help that i’m handsome, baby,” pearly white grin spreading across his soft lips, singular dimple making an appearance.

a harsh laugh rips through your sternum. did he just say that out loud? you think to yourself. in this moment, friends, family, and media blogs warning you about this man, come back to haunt you in despicable ways. you feel like a fool. a complete bozo for thinking he had a shred of respect for your relationship.

what did you expect from a man tmz calls ‘satoru hoejo’?

“why did i ever bother with you, huh?! what made me think you, out of all people, could fucking understand how a fucking adult relationship fucking works? a fucking man-child is what you are, asshole,” you belittle, red hot disdain slinking into each dig you bark.

blood sloshes in your ears, your ragged breathing louder than normal as you try to uncurl your hands from their white-knuckled fists. satoru’s cool gaze studies your demeanor, chiseled arms crossing over his chest. internally, he is reveling in your outrage. he can’t help the way his cock stirs behind his fly at the fiery pitch your tone adheres to.

before he can stop himself, satoru teases, “heh, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” at his verbiage, you freeze, feeling as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over your head, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your shivering skin. you just don’t understand. how can someone who’s supposed to protect your heart, continually handle it as if it’s not fragile? you wanted so badly to believe he was different, so badly to hope he’d give you what you’ve been searching for. but as you notice that playful arrogance twinkling in his light irises, you’re made keenly aware that he’s not who he portrayed himself to be.

“and on that note, we’re done satoru. tell that girl, with the change machine between her legs, to take you home,” rounding the front of your car, reaching the driver's side door, wanting to be alone and forget about the last hour of your life.

try the last year of your life.

you couldn’t even curl your hand around the door handle before satoru grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “what are you telling me?” tightening his grasp on your elbow, agitation seeds planting in his voice. snatching your arm away from the beginnings of a vise-like grip, “fuck you,” you fume.

a cracked chuckle vacates his larynx, “fuck me? is that what you’re telling me? after i gave you things the next woman would kill for?” satoru can’t believe how irrational you’re being right now. he doesn’t know what this is. are you jealous? insecure? or just downright insane, acting this way over something so small? sure, he flirts with other girls. so what? it’s not like any of those girls meant anything to him. it’s all fun and games to him. and if he pisses you off in the process, that’s fine with him. nothing like a good pounding into the mattress to dampen your fury. and it works, every. single. time.

except now.

“what did you give me?! a fucking migraine? yeah, that’s about as much as you’ve given me throughout this entire relationship.”

“yeah? so that necklace with my initials on it, those fucking diamonds on your fingers, that fucking car! you got that all by yourself?” he scoffs, snidely.

“here, take it all back!” you seethed, ripping off your necklace and chucking it at his face. he will not have that kind of hold on you. it’s all fake. the love, the care, the feelings… none of it was real. “what else do you want? my shoes?” slipping out your heels, throwing them at his feet. “my purse?” shoving your prada bag roughly into his chest. “w-what else huh? you… you already took my heart. not like i’ll ever get that back,” fresh crystalline drops filling your eyes as they burn with the weight of your fractured heart.

satoru stands there, statue stiff, regarding the scene in his eye line. a pang of… something pierces his chest seeing you cry, fat tears gliding down your cheeks, leaving streaks in your makeup. he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, throat tight, feeling as if he scarfed down a wine cork. satoru has never seen you cry, the sight so foreign, urging that pang to sink its fangs into his heartstrings, tugging on them brutally.

as you wipe the salt water away, satoru’s fingers twitch. his nerve endings screaming at him to comfort you, to be the first man to dry your tears instead of causing you to produce more. but, he stays glued to his spot, helplessness encasing his aura as he rubs the back of his neck, fingers grazing the buzzed hair contaminating his undercut.

“(name), i—”

lifting your manicured hand, you cut off his verbiage firmly, done with him. “don’t. i’m done with your empty words, your empty apologies, your empty fucking heart. i’m done with it all,” you reiterate, voice nasally as your tears invite all your congestion to come out and play. sniffling, you strap your heels back on your feet, cringing from the gravel stabbing your feet as it gets compressed by the sole of the torture devices.

snatching your purse out of satoru's mitts, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “you’ll… you’ll miss me,” satoru spoke, as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than you. his azures narrow at how ridiculous his feeble attempts echo through the still atmosphere, gritting his teeth as that feeling of desperation rears its ugly head.

“i’d rather adjust my life to your absence than lower my boundaries to allow your disrespect.”

the finality of your tone is like a dagger through each chamber of his heart, with each palpitation bursting like a balloon. satoru’s clutches slacken, urging you to remove your wrist from his calluses and enter your car. through the cotton stuffed in his ears, all he can recall is the rumbling hum of the engine, tires screeching from speeding away as the distance, both proverbial and literal, between the pair increases.

nippiness pricks at satoru’s skin, creating goosebumps to rise. whispers of his regrets flirt with the breeze, each insensitive action he bestowed upon you coming home to roost. tension formulates behind his sockets, his stomach dropping as the heavy lead of despair stacks in his gut.

“dammit…”

© all rights reserved to dulcento, 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 5

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: damn, boy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“So, if you terminate contract without two weeks’ notice, terms state you owe the agency an admin fee.” Jan explains over the phone. 

You sit in your car with her on speaker, idling behind the store, shellshocked.  

“How much?” You ask. 

“Based on how long you’ve been with us, four-fifty.” 

“That-- four hundred and fifty? That’s a week’s pay,” you exclaim. 

“Yes, well, we’d have to overextend other staff and then there would be training and recruiting. Seeing as you’ve not completed your probation period, we would be taking a loss.” 

“A loss? I’d still work, just for another client.” 

“There’s a lot of cleaners with seniority, they get preference. I’m sorry, but those are your options,” she says. She has no compassion, it’s all just money to her. 

You stare at the brick wall ahead of your car. Never mind about going inside. You’ll make your boxed macaroni with water tonight. Maybe as you scroll the job boards. If you get something quick, you’ll be able to cover the fee. 

Or. 

Or... 

Or you’ll have to face him again. 

You grip the wheel tight. It isn’t even your car. The fee comes out of your pay too. This whole thing is a grift. You lean forward and rest your head on the vinyl ridges. 

You see him, standing in front of the door, in his body armour and helmet. A man who could snap you like a twig. You exhale with a quake and roll your eyes back against the swell of heat. You have no choice. Not unless a miracle comes and you don’t believe in those. 

You drive home. Your apartment is small. Especially compared to his townhouse. How rotten. Look at you. Living at the bare minimum, living off his scraps based on how well you clean his floors. It’s not fair. And he can just do whatever he wants. Because what, because he wears that costume? 

You’re not hungry. You scroll through job boards. It’s all this bullshit AI training. You know it’s garbage. $100 an hour, yeah, you’re sure it will hit your bank account smoothly. Oh and Jan didn’t miss the non-compete clause. If you quit, you can work for another cleaning agency or even freelance for at least a year. 

Sleep is fractured by your anxiety. Every time you close your eyes, he’s there. Each time you move, you feel his hands on you. Your skin crawls and your insides burn. Why? Why you? Would it be the same if it was anyone else who’d taken that job? 

You stare at the ceiling as the sun rises outside your window. As the light shifts, your nerves flurry. You don’t want to get up. You don’t want to go back. 

You flinch as a soft click comes from the kitchen. There’s a length of wall between the rest of your apartment and it. A bachelor with nothing more than a clunky radiator and scratched floorboards. Another click and the grind of the coffee machine. 

You sit up, chest thumping furiously. You’re dreaming. Your frail human condition finally forced you into submission. It’s a nightmare. It has to be. You're sure of it as he appears from behind the wall, leaning on the plaster with smirk. 

Steve’s hair is slightly askew. His cowl is gone but the rest of his suit is still in place. All but his gloves, tucked into his belt. 

“You know, I was always taught not to give up. Why do you think I am who I am,” he grips his hips as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you with decisive steps. “You don’t just roll over and let the world win.” 

You blink. It’s not a dream. You’ve never felt anything more real. 

“When you get a no, you don’t stop until you hear yes,” he stops at the foot of your bed, “or until they can’t say anything.” 

“Steve,” you bend your legs and push yourself back against the metal headboard. “What...” 

“You know, it’s funny. They didn’t tell me all the side effects.” He turns and sits on the side of the bed. “Nope. They said ‘it’ll make you strong. And big.’ That’s about all they told me,” he bends his leg and brings his foot onto his knee. He unlaces his boots, the ends of the laces snapping on the leather. “They don’t tell you how much you can hear. How much you can feel. Or not feel.” 

He scoffs and shakes his head, “either they didn’t care or they didn’t know. I can’t say which is worse.” He wiggles the boot off and switches boots. “Don’t tell you that your body turns into this callous shell. The caffeine in a cup of coffee does nothing. Nope. You’re body’s on overdrive. You get nothing. You only give.” 

He rips his other boot off and drops it. He sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his thighs as he bends his head. He smooths his blond hair. 

“I can hear through a car. Even from a block away. Even through the brick wall. And I can hear your heart beating from ground level,” he sniffs and rolls his shoulders, holding his head. “I can hear it right now too.” 

You’re silent. Paralysed. It’s all a game to him. He’s been following, watching. Even if the thought crossed your mind, you wouldn’t have caught him. He shows himself when he wants to be seen. Exactly as he does at his place. 

“I just want to feel one fucking thing that makes me feel alive,” he sits up. 

You stare at him. He slowly looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. “I put the coffee on. Your head’s throbbing. Migraine. The cells in your brain are compressed. Lack of seratonin due to lack of sleep.” 

Your mouth falls open. He can tell all that. No, another job was never an option. Quitting, like he says, isn’t a choice. Why doesn’t matter. Why is a stupid question. Why won’t change what is about to happen. 

“Have a cup, take a shower, relax,” he commands. “I want you to feel it too.” 

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[r3starttt]

Thinking about sneaking into Chloe's room, you hesitate for a moment at the door before pushing it open.

The air greets you with its familiar, musky scent of weed, even though the window is cracked wide open, letting in a soft breeze. The walls glow with the golden hues of the afternoon sun, filtering through her old blinds, scattering rays that mix with the thin trails of smoke lingering lazily in the air. Her room is a controlled chaos of posters, vinyl records, and scattered belongings—a reflection of Chloe herself. She isn’t here yet, but she will be soon.

You step in quietly, dropping your bag onto the floor with a soft thud. The bed calls to you, and you can’t resist. You practically tiptoe to it, throwing yourself onto the mattress with just enough care not to make too much noise. The familiar scent of her bedspread wraps around you like an old friend, and you smile to yourself, sinking into the comfort of her world.

“Holy fuck—” Chloe’s sharp voice startles you, making you jolt slightly. You turn just in time to see her standing in the doorway, her hand on her chest in mock offense, though there’s already a smirk creeping onto her lips. “You scared the shit out of me,” her voice holding that mix of annoyance and humor that only Chloe can pull off.

You can’t help but laugh, propping yourself up on your elbows and meeting her gaze with a playful grin. “Why? Got something to hide?” She narrows her eyes, her smirk deepening as she steps inside and kicks the door shut behind her. There’s a quiet click as she locks it—classic Chloe. “Maybe,” she says with a shrug, the word rolling off her tongue like she doesn’t care, but the sparkle in her eyes gives her away. She crosses the room in a few casual strides and flops onto the bed beside you, her head hitting the pillow with a soft thud.

You turn your head to look at her, watching as her arm lazily drapes behind her head. Her blue hair spills across the pillow, strands falling over her face. Without thinking, you reach out, brushing the hair away gently. She doesn’t say anything at first, just tilts her head to mock your movement, her smirk never fading.

But then, because she’s Chloe, her fingers curl around your wrist, her grip firm but not forceful. She tugs you closer until there’s almost no space between you. Her lips brush against yours—just barely, like she’s testing the waters. “You’re trouble,” she murmurs, her voice soft but carrying that edge of mischief you know so well.

“Only because you like it,” you whisper back, your tone teasing enough to grow her smile, this time against your lips. And for a moment, the whole world seems to melt into her—her chaos, her warmth, her.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie | Part 1: The Convenience Store

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Femme Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Tension, Hero Situations, Eijiro Kirishima is a Pro Hero

Link to My Master List 😬

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie

Part 1: The Convenience Store

It is a rainy Tuesday night and you are absolutely exhausted from work. On your way home to your apartment, you decide to stop by a local bodega for some junk food. You have been looking forward to binge watching a trashy reality TV show all day long, and some potato chips would be the perfect snack to munch on as you enjoy the juicy TV drama.

The bodega’s glass sliding door opens with a squeak as you hastily fold up your dripping umbrella. You shiver as the cool store AC hits your wet skin, and goose bumps flare across your bare arms. The day had started out deceptively warm, and you hadn’t dressed for the weather. You are deeply regretting the choice to wear the navy sleeveless dress that is now clinging to your body and dripping a puddle onto the dull bodega carpet. Oh well – you will be home in just a few minutes and will be able to step into a hot shower soon enough.

You grab a shopping basket and wander the aisles, eager to satiate your cravings for salty crisps. The store is unusually empty for the hour – the sudden rain must have kept most people inside. The only other people present are the elderly cashier, and a man pursuing the energy drinks in one of the freezers. The other patron is keenly focused on a bottle of purple Gatorade - intently reading the ingredient list on the drink’s packaging. You pay no attention to this other customer as you locate the snack aisle and load up your basket with chip bags boasting a variety of fun flavors (BBQ chips?? Yes please!). The aisles are tall – stacked ceiling high with boxes and bags containing every flavor of chip one could imagine.

SMASH! A loud crash reverberates throughout the tiny store, followed by the sound of small objects scattering across the vinyl floor. A deep voice booms out: “This is a hold up. Give me all the money in that register. And make it quick – I don’t think either of us wants any trouble.” You freeze; blood running cold in your veins as you quickly put the pieces of the situation together.

“I swear old man – I’ve got a special quirk that will make your life all kinds of painful unless you Hand. Over. The. Cash.”

You move slowly along the aisle, looking for a gap in the snack shelves so you can better assess the situation. Through a small space between cereal boxes, the situation comes into view – the man that you had seen shopping for sports drinks is now standing menacingly over the check out counter. He is around six feet tall with sharp features; a simple black domino mask obscured his eyes. Clad entirely in black, he stands with his right arm gripping the linoleum countertop, the other poised grotesquely above the cashier’s balding head. It takes you a moment to put together exactly what you were seeing – the villain’s right arm was a gigantic crab claw! If the situation weren’t so tense, you would have died from laughter. The scene is ridiculous – the man’s arm (claw) is twice the length of a typical human arm and had a bright, shiny red hue. This kind of mutation quirk always gives you a start – the unnatural way the man’s body blends seamlessly with the extra large claw is uncanny.

            The shop cashier looks up at the villain with terror in his eyes. He seems absolutely frozen on the spot as the masked robber clicks his claw menacingly. With a start, you notice that the inside of the claw is wickedly sharp. The villain flashes it dangerously towards the cashier’s neck to drive a sense of urgency.

            You assess your options. Your quirk isn’t particularly powerful, but it definitely has some use here. If you could just get a little bit closer to the situation, you could probably use it to distract the villain long enough to get the cashier out of harm’s way. You stretch out your hand to activate your quirk, but stopped dead when you feel a warm, rough hand clamp around your mouth from behind.

You try to scream, but the sound comes out muffled. Adrenaline floods your veins as you prepared to fight for your life. You hadn’t heard someone sneak up behind you, and you squirm in an effort to get away. An arm reaches out to steady you, and it’s owner whispers: “Sorry to startle you – I’m here to help.” The soft, gravely voice sends a fresh wave of goose bumps down your chilled skin. You turn to see one of the year’s top heroes - the Red Riot - crouched over you in the snack aisle. You’d recognize that trademark red spiky hair anywhere. Your body starts to relax a bit – things are under control and a hero is here!

Over the past few years, Red Riot has been making quite a name for himself in the media as a dependable, chivalrous hero. You’ve often watched his battles and rescues play out on the television – not only was he a skilled hero, but also he was kind and genuine. His interviews were your favorite – he always found such nice things to say about his teammates and the people he rescued. And he wasn’t bad to look at either.

He’s clearly not on duty – his usual simple costume has been traded in for a black t-shirt, jeans and a soft red hoodie. Your heart skips a beat. He’s so totally hot. When he realizes you’re not going to scream and give away his position to the villain, he releases you from his embrace. He smiles reassuringly, and the warmth of his grins reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to get you out of this.” He promises.

For a second there, you completely forgot about the convenience store hold up occurring feet away from where the two of you were crouched. Your senses are clouded by the closeness of Red Riot, who is still holding you steady with his muscular arms. When he realizes his touch is lingering a bit longer than necessary, he quickly pulls away. He shifts to peer over your shoulder through the small cereal box window. The movement brings him ever so slightly closer to you, and you find yourself inhaling the sweet scent of clean laundry. You lean the tiniest bit closer to him.

But back to the situation at hand – you can hear the crab clawed villain barking commands at the cashier. He wants all the money from the register as well as a roll of lotto tickets. He must be either extremely overconfident or incredibly good at crime – because this man is taking his time! Red Riot scowls as he watches the scene unfold. You can see his body tensing as he prepares for a confrontation. With a look of determination, he turns to you and whispers “stay quiet and out of sight. I’m going to go distract the villain and try to de-escalate the situation. If things get physical – run. There’s a dumpling shop across the street – get someone there to call the police.”

His red eyes bore into your own. There’s something so intense and hot about him. You feel a strange connection pulling you closer to this man, closer to the heat of his body.

            “W-wait.” You whisper. “I can help!”

            You point to the man with the crab claw – he still has the Gatorade bottle in the pocket of his pants. To his left you see a palette of energy drinks waiting to be restocked. “With my quirk I can control small amounts of liquid. I can distract him by levitating all those energy drinks at once. I’ll suspend them in the air and bring them all crashing down on top of him, giving you time to get the cashier out of harm’s way.”

            Red Riot smiles appreciatively. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like that. I’ll handle this on my own. Just keep quiet and get across the street, okay?”

            You make a face. You don’t understand why he won’t let you help. After all, the villain seems untrained and unfocused. His claw hand can’t do much damage to a bunch of small, moving targets.

            “Trust me.” Red Riot reaches for your hand. He places the pads of your fingers on his palm. You can feel him activating his hardening quirk beneath your fingers as his skin slowly becomes rougher. “I was built for this.”

            You nod, unable to argue. His quirk makes his skin feel smooth and strong like the bark of an oak tree. You press your fingers lightly into the center of his hand, but there’s no give. Reflexively, he closes his fingers around your own, causing electricity to shoot through your hand at the intimate touch. Red Riot’s eyes widen, an apology already at his lips. You quickly slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Good luck, Red Riot.” You tap the hardened skin on his forearm. “You’re right – definitely built for this.”

            He grins, seemingly basking in the compliment.

            “That’s right – just leave this to me!” He whispers back. “Stay safe, okay?”

Red Riot army crawls down the aisle. You watch as he slowly steps out from behind the shelves and approaches the counter confidently, grabbing a bag of BBQ chips on the way. The poor cashier is now filling a grocery bag with money from the register as the crab armed villain hulks over him, sneering and clicking his claw. The villain doesn’t even seem to hear Red Riot approaching him from behind.

            In two strides, Red Riot closes the distance and reaches out to tap the villain on his crabby shoulder.

            “Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the counter. Other people want to check out.” As he says this, he pointedly tosses his bag of chips onto the shiny linoleum counter.

            The crab villain whirls around, face full of fury. His eyes widen and his face contorts in fury when he realizes whom he’s talking to. The villain wastes no time – he propels himself away from the counter, whirling his deadly sharp arm towards Red Riot.

Crack!

The arm makes contact with Red Riot’s rock hard skin. The hero smiles smugly, his right arm taking the brunt of the blow.

“Why don’t we take this down a notch, sir? I’m clearly a match for your quirk, and the police are already on their way. There’s no need to fight, we can just talk - ”

            The villain moves surprisingly swiftly, shifting around Red Riot’s outstretched arm and reaching to position his claw around Red Riot’s neck. The hero’s facial expression shifts to surprise – he wasn’t expecting a villain with such a cumbersome quirk to be able to move so languidly. The crab villain slowly starts to press down his claw around the hero’s neck. Red Riot is making a face that clearly says “Oh, shit.”

You turn and desperately reach your hand through the gap in the cereal box display, pointing your fingertips at the villain and willing your Quirk to activate. Almost instantly, the Gatorade bottle resting half full in the villain’s back pocket lifts into the air as all of the liquid rushes towards the top of the container. You focus all of your concentration on the bottle.

Unfortunately, you never had a lot of opportunity to train and refine your quirk as you had pursued an educational track that prioritized tech and computer skills over quirk competence. However, you had a grasp on the fundamentals of how your quirk worked – and you figured if you could just distract the crab villain for a moment, you could give Red Riot a chance to regroup.

The villain pressed his sharp claw further around Red Riot’s neck. You could hear an ominous cracking notice – and you hoped desperately that the sound wasn’t the hero’s thick skin crumbling beneath his assailant’s grasp. You began to feel a sickening mix of adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins and you try to renew your concentration. The liquid inside the bottle begins to boil – the water fizzing and popping in the small confined space. You shakily will the bottle to float up and behind the villain’s head.

Red Riot uses his hardened hands to try to break the villain’s grasp, but the crabby grip holds fast. The villain is intensely focused on trying to crush Red Riot’s windpipe, and so he is completely taken by surprise when the bottle of Gatorade explodes and hits the back of his head with a splash of scalding purple liquid. The villain howls in pain – both hands reflexively flying to cradle the back of his burned head. In his pain and fury, he unwittingly releases Red Riot from his grasp. The red headed hero is quick to take advantage of the situation – dropping to the ground and sweeping a strong leg beneath the villain’s own. The crab-clawed villain comes crashing to the ground with a large “thud.”

Red Riot wastes no time, dropping on top of the villain to pin disproportionate arms to the ground.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for armed robbery and for engaging in combat with a licensed hero. The police will be here shortly to take your statement - but in the meantime please stop resisting.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as Red Riot continues to hold the villain tightly to the ground. Behind the counter’s register, the convenience store clerk still stands frozen, holding a wad of bills in bills in a vice-like grip.

You hear the metallic slide of the store’s automatic doors followed by several pairs of heavy boots off to your right. Within a few seconds, a team of police officers comes into view, their starched blue shirts bright in the florescent lighting.

At the sight of the police, the crab villain finally seems to give up fighting – his body sagging to the ground beneath Red Riot. The hero holds his position, eyeing the villain’s mutant arm warily. Even from a distance, you can tell his hardening quirk is still activated – he isn’t taking any chances.

“Great job, Red Riot! We’ll take it from here.” A tall officer with a glinting badge steps forward and uses a length of metal cord to bind the villain’s large clawed arm. “We’ve been after this guy for weeks!”

Red Riot smiles as he steps back and lets the police team capture his assailant. He turns and meets your eyes through the space in the cereal box wall. He grins at you, his dark eyes wink a quick “thanks” in your direction as he detectives whisk him away for questioning.

“Miss – are you alright?” You let out a small squeak of surprise, turning to find a short female officer with a tight bun of dark hair coming around the corner of the aisle. You look down at yourself – crouching like a wild animal in a soggy, rain-drenched dress.

“I’ve definitely had better days.” You laugh, allowing the policewoman to help you to your feet. You feel the adrenaline slowly start to melt away, leaving you feeling shaky and a bit lightheaded. You can’t think of the last time you used your quirk, so you’re sure the little stunt you pulled to save Red Riot has impacted your stamina.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions about what happened here?” The officer asks, motioning for you to follow her to the front of the store where the crab villain is being checked for weapons.

“No, not at all!” You wrap your arms around yourself and attempt to bring some warmth back into your body.          

The police had a lot of questions. Apparently this villain had been evading them for quite sometime. He had been robbing convenience stores across several cities. He was quick, efficient, and sometimes even deadly – having injured half a dozen clerks and store patrons in his mad pursuit of cash.

“We heard that you used your quirk to get Red Riot out of a spot of trouble.” The policewoman with the bun taps a pen to a pad of paper thoughtfully. Her tone isn’t accusatory; she’s just stating facts. “The unsanctioned use of a quirk in combat is illegal, but since you were put in a potentially life threatening situation and you were in under the supervision of a pro hero, the Good Samaritan law should cover your actions today.”

 You feel the last bit of energy absolutely drain out of you and you reach out to grab a nearby store shelf for support. Illegal? The thought of breaking the law hadn’t even crossed your mind. You had just acted on pure instinct when you saw Red Riot in trouble. You start to shiver more violently as the weight of what you’ve done fully sinks in. The policewoman quickly waves to another officer and you find yourself being guided to a chair.

“Miss - it seems like you’re in shock. Please take some deep breaths and we’ll get you to a hospital shortly to get checked out, alright?” The officer pats your hand kindly and pockets her notepad. She walks out of view to call a medical team with her colleagues and you are momentarily left alone in the corner of the store. You stare at the ground, your head feeling fuzzy and cold. It was so stupid to use your quirk so recklessly like that! You admonish yourself silently. You’re sure that Red Riot could have gotten himself out of that bad situation given time – he was a top hero after all! You were just so worried and eager to help…

A soft material engulfs your shoulders. “You’re freezing! Here – take my sweatshirt.” You turn and see Red Riot standing behind you, his strong hands pressing his large red hoodie around your shoulders. He smooths the plush material around you, and you shiver at the contact.

“I couldn’t possibly take this!” You said weakly despite your body hungrily leaning into the warmth of his touch and the offered piece of clothing.

“It’s too late �� it’s already yours. Consider it a thank you for saving me back there.” Red Riot grins, showing off a row of pointed teeth. You gratefully accept the gift – tucking your arms into the floppy sleeves. You’re practically swimming in sweatshirt.

“I really shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, ashamed. “You had the situation under control, and it was irresponsible to use my quirk like that. You even told me not to help earlier.” You shake your head, and then blush when you realize you’re probably showering the chivalrous hero in raindrops.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that at all! While it’s true that a Pro can always break out of a tough spot, someone once told me that ‘meddling where you don’t need to is the essence of a hero.’ You moved without thinking to help me when I needed it. That took guts.” His grin widens. “I’m so lucky that such a strong person was looking out for me from the cereal section.”

You laugh, cheeks blushing at the compliment. He’s just so…handsome, grinning roguishly at you with his deep, dark eyes.

“Your quirk is really strong, too. What was that – liquid manipulation? Have you ever trained your quirk?” You’re taken aback by the sincerity of his interest in your small little quirk.

“Not really – I had the standard quirk class in elementary school where we are evaluated and learn how to control the basics of each of our quirks. Beyond that, I never had much interest in it. I can make small amounts of liquid float, boil and freeze. It’s not particularly powerful, but I can make a mean pot of soup with it.” You smile, appreciating the attention you’re receiving from the hero. “I went to a specialty high school focused on business and marketing, so I pretty much avoided any quirk training or hero-focused track. Exploding that little Gatorade bottle was probably the crux of my power.”

“Well it was incredible! I feel like you’re really underselling yourself – I see so much potential in you and your quirk. With just a little training, I think you could really do some damage.” Red Riot says excitedly, talking animatedly with his hands. You laugh, picturing yourself in some ridiculous hero suit parading around the city splashing boiling water on legions of seafood-themed villains.

“Surprisingly, the hero life is just not for me!” You grin before a wave of shivers wracks through your body. Is this from shock? Or is it the damp cold of your rain soaked dress finally catching your attention.

Red Riot instantly notices your discomfort and shakes his head thoughtfully before saying: “Stay here a minute, I have an idea.” He scampers away and you’re left alone again. You focus on taking a few deep, calming breaths as you zip the hoodie up to your chin. You inhale deeply and realize that the red fabric smells comforting and sweet – a combination of mint and cedar wood. You deeply breathe in the scent of Red Riot, and you feel your panic ebb away. You’re steeped in exhaustion as you slouch against the hard plastic chair.

A moment later, Red Riot re-appears, holding a steaming Styrofoam cup. “I made you some peppermint tea.” He says shyly, holding out the hot cup. “It always makes me feel better after a fight – I thought it might do the same for you.”

You take the cup gratefully and tip it back for a sip. He holds out a hand to stop you. “Careful, it’s hot. Give it a second to cool so you don’t burn your mouth.”

“Thank you so much, Red Riot. I really appreciate all you’ve done today.” You’re too tired to care that you sound like a fan girl.

“Hey, call me Eijiro. After what we’ve been through together, we should be on a first name basis.” To your surprise, his cheeks tint pink as he shares his first name. You smile softly and share your own nickname. He repeats it back to you, seeming to like the way your name rolls on his tongue.

“It’s nice to meet you Eijiro.” You feel the warmth of the tea sinking into your icy hands.

“So what were you buying here at the store anyway? Let me go get you a cart and – oh, hold on!” He absentmindedly leans in close to you, reaching out to pull a stray wet strand of hair away from your face. He tucks it gently behind your ear. “We should really get you a hair dryer or something!” He laughs, “You’re still soaking wet!” Despite just having met, the touch is so intimate and familiar. You lean towards him, wanting him to touch you again with his strong, capable hero fingertips.

“Red Riot – the press is outside waiting to interview you.” A police officer calls over, snapping you both back to reality. “They’re eager to hear about how you apprehended the villain. For the sake of her privacy, let’s leave this young lady’s roll in the capture out of it.”

Eijiro snaps to attention, his hand still hovering close to your face. He turns to give the officer a thumbs up. “Sounds good to me! I’ll be right there.”

He moves to look at you again. His eyes are wide and his expression intrigued. “They’re going to take you to the hospital to make sure everything looks okay. They’ll probably keep you overnight for observation until you’re out of shock. I’m sure they’ll take good care of you, cutie.” He stands to walk out of the store. “Thanks for saving my life – I hope to hear from you soon!”

And with a wave, he strides away towards the press team waiting outside. You look down into your tea, confused and quietly delighted at his hope to hear from you. You have absolutely no idea how you would ever contact him again, but the sentiment and the term of endearment he had used is sweet. Ever the chivalrous hero.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of tests and scans and interviews with police officers and doctors alike. Despite your protests, an ambulance whisks you away to the closest hospital and you are kept under observation just as Red Riot - Eijiro ­- had predicted. The staff is courteous and sweet, praising you for your roll in the incident when the police officers tip them off. You’re given comfortable clothes to borrow and access to a hot shower adjacent to your hospital room.

When you finally sink into the hospital bed, it’s pitch black outside. You flick on the grainy old TV that’s mounted above your bed and flick through the channels until you stop to see a familiar face on the local news.

Red Riot is smiling down at you from the TV set, his eyes warm as he answers the questions of various reporters.

“I was just shopping for some ramen when I noticed the villain. Weird coincidence that I just happened to be at the same store as him!” The hero laughs, rubbing his hand behind his head. “I’m thankful to the store patrons and the clerk who stayed calm as I handled the situation.”

“Red Riot – did you have any difficulty subduing the victim?”

Eijiro pauses to think for a moment before carefully saying “There was a moment that he had the drop on me, but a really cute shopper distracted him for me and allowed me to get the upper hand.”

“You’re so humble, Red Riot. I’m sure you had everything under control.”

Eijiro shakes his head. “I don’t want to encourage recklessness, but I do want to make it clear that you don’t need to be a Pro to be someone’s hero. The woman who helped me today – her bravery and willingness to act even when things were scary is what true heroism looks like. I’m grateful to her, and I hope that I’ll be able to see her again soon.”

The reporters continue to fawn over Red Riot for a few more minutes – peppering him with more questions that he cheekily answers. He avoids revealing any additional details about you despite the reporter’s needling and prodding. Soon the news broadcast ends, and the anchor appears on screen and starts discussing upcoming movie releases.

You sit with your mouth gaping open. Had you really made such a lasting impression on the sturdy hero? You feel your heartbeat increase at the thought, causing the heart monitors strapped to your chest to peep and whir. A nurse appears at your side in an instant, and you bashfully explain to her that you are fine – just a bit overexcited from the day’s events. Once she is assuaged, you return to flipping through channels before settling on reruns of The Bachelor. This wasn’t the soapy TV series you had been looking forward to all day, but it was as close as you are going to get at this point. You let the show run and before long you are dozing in the propped up hospital bed, dreaming of seafood villains and heroes with bright hair and dark, endless eyes.

When you’re finally ready to check out from the hospital the next day, the nurse at the front desk presents you with your belongings. Your wallet, your high heeled work shoes, and an extra large bright red hoodie. “Oh – I forgot about this.” You gratefully accept the sweatshirt and shrug it on. It swings around you like a trench coat, fluffy and warm. You can still smell traces of cedar wood on the collar.

You walk out of the hospital and into a surprisingly sunny day, metallic sliding doors parting for you as you exit. You sink your hands into the hoodie’s overlarge pockets and are surprised to feel a rectangular square object tucked into the deep right pocket. Had Eijiro left a piece of gum in his hoodie? You fish it out with your index and pointer fingers – it’s a small folded up piece of paper ripped from a notepad. Upon closer inspection, you notice that it’s branded with the convenience store’s faded logo. You guess it was ripped from the clerk’s register notepad.

Curious, you unfold the small wad of paper. Written hastily across the note is a messy scrawl of digits and the words: Would love to take you to dinner some time, cutie. Thanks for rescuing me. – Eijiro.

            Oh my God. He gave you his number. A warm blush creeps up your face as your eyes run across the note over and over again. What a crazy 24 hours it has been! You reach into your purse to grab your phone. With shaky hands you add “Eijiro Kirishima” as a contact in your phone, adding a few rock emojis and a bright red crab emoji beside his name. He’d probably find that hilarious.

            You draft up a fresh text to the red headed hero and type: “In need of rescuing tonight – the villain: hunger and boredom. In need of a hero who knows the perfect ramen spot.” You hit send and hold your breath. What if he’s on patrol tonight? You worry. What if he was just being nice and doesn’t actually see you again?

            Your worries are totally baseless, because within seconds you have a reply: “I’m more than up for this mission – meet me in front of the convenience store at 8. Wear the sweatshirt so I’ll recognize you in the crowd?” He ends it with a winking emoji and your heartbeat quickens. You officially have a date set with Eijiro Kirishima – the Red Riot.

Your hero.

Thanks so much for reading!!!

---------------------------

Other Kirishima Stories:

Headcannon: Kirishima LOVES wearing Bakugo's clothes.

🦈❤️Boyfriend!Kirishima ❤️🦈

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima (A18+ - MDNI!!!) 💋

Link to My Master List 😬

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Virgin (Simon Riley / Reader)

CW: virgin!simon, simon is bad at communicating, power imbalances, pining, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, dry humping, loss of virginity

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 3.7k

His shadow hung over me, dark and imposing. He was never close enough to graze against me, but close enough to feel his presence. He didn’t say a word to my during my first month on base, opting to silently glare at me from afar. Slowly, he crept closer and closer. Like a frog in boiling water, I grew acquainted with the feeling of being watched. 

Other recruits would laugh, calling him my “guard dog”, or asking if I took him out on a walk. I held my tongue, glancing back over my shoulder at the man. It was just a superior looking out for their corporal. 

My eyelids fluttered closed, fingers clenching around the bar. My quads strained, fibers pulling tight as I sunk into a squat. I pursed my lips, exhaling a steady stream of air. Tears welled in my eyes as lactic acid pooled in my muscles. 

“Fuck-” I gasped, head dropping to the floor. I pushed into my heels, straining against the weight. Pain ballooned in my limbs. My body didn’t move even an inch. 

A pair of arms slipped beneath my arms, wrapping around my chest. With a soft grunt from behind me, I was pulled to my feet. Sweat beaded down my forehead, damp strands of hair sticking to my skin. 

With a clatter, I pushed the bar back onto the rack. Thick fingertips skated over my skin before dropping to my side. Drawing in a shaky breath, I turned on my heels to face the man behind me. 

His balaclava was discarded, and replaced by a plain black surgical mask. Sticky strands of his short blonde hair hung in his face. His brown eyes were streaked with days-old eyeshadow. Heat rushed to my face. My eyes dropped to the ground, fingers fiddling with the dressings wrapped around my knuckles. 

“Thank you, L.T.” I mumbled, swallowing down my embarrassment. He simply grumbled in response, his boots thudding against the carpeted floor. 

-

“I’m just asking for a couple more days. I wasn’t expecting these firewalls to be so…intense…” I explained, clutching my laptop in my hands. My leg bobbed up and down, heel clicking against the vinyl flooring. 

Price thumbed through the pile of documents on the desk in front of him. His eyes narrowed as he scanned across the words. Huffing, he pushed the papers toward me, scattering the reports. I reached out, grabbing a few stray pages that fell to the ground. 

“I’m giving you twelve hours,” he clicked his tongue, “I’ve got a group of men en route to the facility, and if they don’t have access to the building, their deaths will be on you.” 

Nausea swelled in my throat. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Clenching my jaw, I nodded, humming softly in agreement. I rose to my feet, the backs of my knees bumping against my chair. 

“Thank you, sir,” I nodded, turning on my heel. I extended one shaky hand, wrapping my fingers around the brass doorknob. A wave of cool air hit my flushed face as I pulled the thick mahogany door open. 

My eyes widened as a pair of deep brown irises locked onto mine. His hulking frame leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. He stared at me through the narrow holes in the skull plate on his mask. I turned away, pursing my lips in a weak attempt to quell the quivering in my bottom lip. 

I could hear the door shut behind me as he slipped into the captain's office. Chewing on the inside of my lip, I started down the corridor. My heels clicked against the linoleum, echoing down the barren hall. 

Muffled voices caught my attention, stopping me in my tracks. I turned over my shoulder, glancing back at the office. I couldn’t make out the words, only the incoherent rumble of a deep voice. Simon’s voice. 

Shaking my head, I continued down the hall before tucking into my office. The warm, earthy scent of coffee greeted me as I stepped inside. My fingers wrapped around the armrest of my chair, tugging it toward me. The chair legs scraped against the tiles. Huffing, I sat down, pushing my laptop open.

A jumbled mess of code illuminated my screen. I stared at the lines of text, slowly blinking as I read the inputs over and over. My head slowly tilted forward, eyelids fluttering shut as my lack of sleep caught up with me. I gasped, sitting up straight, weakly shaking my head in a poor attempt to wake myself. My keyboard clacked as I typed in another line of code. 

“Access denied.”

I groaned, resting my cheek on the desk. The letters and numbers before me blurred, merging into incoherent symbols. If I just closed my eyes for a moment…just a minute or two…

“Hey.”

I groaned, turning to press my other cheek into the cold wood. 

“Corporal, you better not be sleeping on the job.”

I lifted my head, wiping the drool from my mouth with the back of my sleeve. A gloved hand rested on my desk, fingertips idly tapping against the oak. My lips curled down into a frown, my bottom lip quivering as I stared at the mess of files before me. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the words on my screen. I sniffled, glancing up at the man before me. 

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” Thick tears ran down my cheeks, dripping onto the stack of papers before me. 

“Get some sleep, you look like hell.” I couldn’t see through the balaclava, but I knew he was frowning. His thick brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he looked down at me. 

“I can’t, this is due in-”

“Thirty-six hours. He meant to say thirty-six. Not twelve,” he interrupted me, arms crossing over his chest. “I said, get some sleep, corporal. You can’t work like this.”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, rising to my feet. 

As I pulled myself under the sheets, I didn’t bother to pay any mind to the shadow cast over my floor, or the fact that I left my door open. 

-

The computer chimed. I wrapped my fingers around the flash drive and pulled. Glancing over my shoulder, I reached out, placing the drive into my lieutenant's open hand. He curled his fingers around the device. 

“C’mon,” he grunted, nodding toward the door. I grasped my gun, keeping the body pressed tight to my hip. Simon leaned against the door frame, peering around the corner. He took a step forward, mumbling under his breath. I followed behind him, glancing over my shoulder, eyes scanning across the empty warehouse floor. 

His gloved hand grasped the doorknob. Above the unmarked door was an exit sign. The hinges softly creaked as he pushed the door open. 

“Clear,” he spoke just barely above a whisper. Parked just outside the exit was our car. The plates were blank, sides unmarked. I quickly pulled myself into the passenger side, shutting the door behind me. I grasped the seatbelt, glancing at my superior out of the corner of my eye. 

The engine roared to life as he turned the key. He gripped the shift with his gloved hand and pulled it into drive. Distant shouts drew my attention.

Shots rang out, blowing out the windows. My cheek met his thigh as he forcefully pulled me down. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. His fingers gripped my hair tight, holding me flush against his body.

“Fucking drive!” I shouted. 

Another gunshot erupted as he floored the gas pedal. The car started down the road with a roar from the engine. My fingernails dug into the worn leather seats, wheels squealing as he turned onto a main road. 

I sat up, glancing out the back window. Two figures dressed in military uniforms slowly faded into the horizon as Simon sped down the freeway. My chest heaved as I took in deep breaths. 

I glanced at my Lieutenant out of the corner of my eye. His knee bobbed as he tapped his heel against the floor. I folded my hands in my lap, pursing my lips tight. 

-

A soft knock drew my attention. I glanced up from my book, setting it down on my bedside table. I hummed, rising to my feet and slowly stalking toward the door. It was past sunset, and the rest of the barracks seemed to still. My fingers grasped the doorknob, twisting gently. 

I pulled the door open, stepping back once an imposing figure came into view. Simon stared down at me, his balaclava hiding his expression. My pulse raced, heart pounding in my ears. With a shaky voice, I invited him in, stepping aside for the man. He pushed the door shut as he stepped inside, only grunting softly. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, lieutenant. I was out of line, I shouldn’t have-”

His gloved hand slipped beneath his balaclava, tugging the knit fabric from his face. I stayed quiet, my gaze flicking across his face, taking in every bit of exposed skin. Thin white lines ran down his face, scars from years past. His nose was crooked, turned downward like a Greek statue. A thick patch of scar tissue ran under his jawline, which was well defined. His brown eyes stayed trained on me, watching me eagerly as I took in the sight before me. 

“You weren’t out of line,” he shook his head, reaching out to take my hand in his. His hand engulfed mine, fingers lacing with my own. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

His thumb gently stroked the back of my hand. His touch was gentle, unusually so for a man of his stature. He extended a shaky hand, only to pull back with a hum. Heat rushed to my face. I chewed the inside of my lip, biting back my thoughts. 

It was hard to ignore his heavy breaths, and his sweaty hands. Hard to ignore the dusty blush that settled on his cheeks. And even harder to ignore the open hand hesitantly reaching toward me. 

“Lieutenant, are you okay?” I tilted my head up to look at the man before me. 

“Simon. Call me Simon,” he urged, fingers flexing around my own. 

“Simon…” my gaze lowered to his lips, plush and scarred. My breath hitched as I felt his fingertips skate across my side. He draped his hand over my hip, fingers digging into my skin. 

“Can I…” his lips parted, but no sound escaped. I glanced down at his hand, resting my palm on his knuckles. I trailed my fingers upward over his forearm. My nails traced along the intricate ink adorning his pale skin, followed the swirls of black that blended in with his scars. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

My hand broke from his grip, sliding up his chest. His breaths were heavy, brown eyes flicking across my face. I looped both of my arms around the back of his neck and pulled him down to my level. Standing on my toes, I leaned in, pressing my lips to his. My eyelids fluttered closed as his lips moved against mine. 

My heart raced, igniting a spark in my stomach. I felt dizzy, my thoughts fading away, replaced by the feeling of his plush lips. This had to be against the rules, a violation of boundaries, and yet I melted into his touch. A soft noise fell from my tongue as his hands slid down my back. 

I took a step back, pulling him toward me, and then another. My calves met the bed, brushing against my duvet. I broke away from his kiss, meeting his brown eyes as I sat at the edge of my bed. His brown eyes widened, lips parting in silent shock. 

“Sorry, are we going too fast?” I asked, bringing my hands to his. 

“No, I’m just…” his brows knitted, plush lips pursing into a thin line. “I’ve never…”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Never what? My gaze flicked to his hands, which were clenched tightly into fists. Then to his jeans, which his cock strained against. Then to his face. The blush on his cheeks had deepened, and his deep brown eyes couldn’t hold contact with mine. 

“You’re a virgin?” I asked. 

“Jesus, don’t say it like that,” he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s okay- It’s just…do you want to do this?” I crossed my legs, bringing them up onto the mattress. He nodded. The mattress creaked as he shifted his weight onto the bed. I wrapped my fingertips around his shirt collar and pulled tight. 

His kiss was more frantic, needier. I laid back against the pillows and crossed my ankles behind his back. A soft noise fell from his lips as he moved them against mine. I carded my fingers through his short blonde locks, tugging gently. 

He rocked his hips against mine, groaning into my mouth. His tongue swiped against my bottom lip, urging me to open. I parted my lips for him, moaning as his tongue slid against my own. He tasted like chewing tobacco and musk, staining my tongue with his flavor. 

I grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his stomach. His muscles flexed underneath my touch. I pulled the fabric over his broad shoulders, letting it drop beside our bodies. 

He stared down at me, his pupils dilated. My palms skated down his sides, over scars and burns from years ago. He felt rough under my touch, skin calloused and uneven. 

His hands slipped beneath my shirt, sliding over my stomach and up to my ribs. I grabbed the bunched fabric, freeing myself of it. His eyes widened as he took in my bare frame.

“You can touch me, Simon,” I grabbed his wrists, my fingers barely able to wrap around them, and brought his hands to my bare chest. His fingers dug into my skin, groping every bit of flesh he could reach. My back arched off of the mattress when he pinched one of my nipples between his fingers. 

I could feel his cock twitch from within the confines of his jeans. Every noise I made, every reaction, spurred one from him. His breath grew heavier, and the blush staining his cheeks crept down his neck to his toned chest. 

He sat back on his shins, bringing his hands to my shorts. I watched as he undid the button and slowly eased the fabric over my hips and down my thighs. I kicked the fabric off of my calves, letting the fabric fall to the ground with a thump. 

My knees fell apart, earning a muffled moan from the man before me. He reached out, running two fingers up my dripping core. A thin silver string of my arousal clung to his digits as he pulled them away. 

“How do I…” he went quiet, eyes fixated on my cunt. 

“I’ll show you, give me your hand.” I placed my hand over his, pushing on three of his digits. He curled the fingers inward, leaving just his index and middle finger. He watched eagerly as I brought his hand to my core, slowly circling them around my clit. A soft moan fell from my lips. He took control, keeping up with the pace I set and adding pressure against the nerves.

My head fell against the pillows, a string of moans slipping from my mouth. I rocked my hips against his hands, grinding against his fingers. His fingertips skated down my core before pushing past my entrance. My eyes fluttered closed as a dull burning built in my hips. His digits were thick, pressing against my walls and stretching me out. 

“Fuck-” I cursed under my breath, staring up at my lieutenant with half-lidded eyes. 

“I’m sorry, am I hurting you?” His brows furrowed.

“No- no, Simon. It feels good. Keep going,” I whined, my hips bucking against his hand. He leaned in, pressing his bare chest to mine. His lips met my neck, trailing gentle kisses across my skin. My hand slid up the back of his neck, tangling into his hair. 

Tension popped in my stomach. My thighs squeezed around his wrist. With a soft grunt, he pushed my legs apart, watching as I took every inch of his fingers. 

His pace quickened, pulling more desperate noises from my chest. It had been a while since anyone had touched me, and his thick fingers pressed against all the right spots inside of me. My cunt squelched around his digits as he pistoned them into me. 

“Faster-” I sputtered, hips absentmindedly grinding. I choked out a sob when he pressed the heel of his palm against my clit. His teeth sank into my neck, just enough to leave behind angry red marks. 

My vision blurred, head spinning as he fucked me with his fingers. I gripped the duvet beneath my body until my knuckles turned pale. Sweat beaded down my chest. Sticky strands of damp hair stuck to my forehead. 

“Oh, fuck- I’m gonna cum!” My words were punctuated with loud, unfiltered moans. His knuckles thumped against my thigh with every thrust. My arousal ran down his fingers, coating his skin. 

I tensed under his touch, muscles pulling tight like elastic. My back arched off of the bed, pushing my hips into his hand. My ears rang, tinnitus taking over as a wave of pleasure washed over my body. 

My chest heaved as I took in short, panting breaths. He pulled his fingers out of my cunt, pressing kisses along my jawline. I grabbed his chin between my fingers, pulling his lips to mine. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting our parted lips. 

“So are you gonna fuck me or what?” I asked, my lips curling into a crooked smile. 

“I doubt I’ll last long,” he mumbled, glancing away from me. 

“I’m not expecting you to,” I shook my head. “But it doesn’t really matter, Simon.”

His brown eyes locked onto mine. I reached out, fingertips brushing along his belt. I hastily undid the buckle before pulling the leather from his belt loops. He undid the silver button at the front of his jeans and pushed the denim over his hips. 

His cock sprang out of its confines. My eyes widened as i took in the sight before me. He was thick enough that I knew it’d be a stretch. His cock was flushed, and pre cum beaded at his tip, running down his impressive length. 

I crossed my ankles behind his back and took his length in my hand. I guided his cock to my entrance, brushing his tip against my cunt. His eyelids fluttered closed, a heavy sigh falling from his parted lips. He pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking inside of me. 

I clenched my jaw as tension swelled between my hips. He sank another inch inside of me, stretching me out slowly. A moan fell from his parted lips, nose scrunching up as he took in the feeling of my fluttering cunt. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, pressing a hasty open-mouthed kiss to my lips. I whined against his lips, my tongue sliding into his mouth. His hips stilled as he bottomed out inside of me. 

I felt undeniably full, stretched to the brim. My head felt like it was spinning. My cunt seized around his cock. He moaned, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. 

“If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last-” he grunted, rolling his hips into me. My thighs squeezed his hips , holding his body flush to mine as he thrusted into me. 

His pace was fast and unrelenting. With every thrust his cock head nuzzled against my cervix. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting desperate noises fall from my tongue as he fucked me into the mattress. 

He cursed under his breath, babbling incoherently by my ear. His hands gripped my hips tight. He was sure to leave behind small round bruises, indents of his fingers against my skin. 

The mattress springs squealed beneath our weight, headboard thudding against the wall with every rough thrust of his hips. I raked my nails up his back, leaving a trail of red lines up to his collarbones. He nipped at my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin. I cried out, cunt clenching around his cock. 

“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” he sputtered. His pace grew erratic, hips thrusting deeper into me. My voice crescendoed, growing louder and louder as tension built in my abdomen. My eyes strained, rolling to the back of my head. 

Every nerve ending in my body pulsed, sending jolts of electricity down my limbs. His hips slammed against my own, body jolting under his touch. Static subsumed my limbs, pulling my aching frame tight. My vision went white, pulsing flashes curled around my peripherals. I parted my lips in a silent scream, my lungs stilling as he rocked me through my orgasm. 

Warmth spread through my insides, running down my inner thighs. His chest heaved as he took in gasps of air. His grip on my hips loosened, remaining as just a reminder of his presence. 

A soft noise fell from my spit soaked lips as my vision slowly came back. I glanced down at the figure laying on top of me. He stilled, cock softening inside of me. I carded my fingers through his damp hair, my other hand soothing over the angry marks I’d left on his pale skin. 

Our breaths evened out, heartbeats returning to a rested pace. He stayed put in my grasp, body pressed flush to my own. I hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. A soft grunt left his chest. 

The mattress squeaked as he moved to lie on his side. His large arms wrapped around my waist, pulling my back against his chest. My lips curled into a smile as I basked in the warmth of his embrace. His lips met the back of my neck, pulling away only to speak. 

“I think we violated the code of conduct,” he mumbled, thick fingers splaying over my stomach. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” I said with a laugh.

He propped himself up on his elbow, tilting my head with his fingertips at my chin. His brown eyes flicked across my face, scanning for any trace of sarcasm, any hint that I was lying. 

“Do you mean that?” He asked, pursing his lips. 

“Course I do, Lieutenant.”

Masterlist

[enmansiflooring]

✨Your Guide to Click Lock Systems in Vinyl Flooring ✨

Looking for the perfect vinyl flooring with easy installation and superior durability? Explore the click lock systems like 5GI, I4F, and Uniclic! ✔️ 5GI: Simple drop-lock design for quick installs and easy repairs. ✔️ I4F: Durable and fast—perfect for heavy-duty areas. ✔️ Uniclic: Flexible angling or horizontal locking for tight spaces.

✨ Each system has unique advantages tailored for SPC, WPC, and LVT flooring! Want to know which suits your needs best? Check out our complete guide and transform your flooring project with confidence. https://enmansi.com/types-of-vinyl-click-flooring/

📩 Drop your questions in the comments or DM us for expert advice!

[floorings101]

Vinyl T Profiles: The Unsung Heroes of Flooring Transitions

In the realm of interior design, flooring transitions often play a subtle yet crucial role in the overall aesthetic and functionality of a space. While flooring materials themselves may receive much of the attention, it's the unsung heroes—such as Vinyl T Profiles—that truly ensure a seamless and polished finish. Welcome to our exploration of Vinyl T Profiles: The Unsung Heroes of Flooring Transitions.

In this article, we delve into the often-overlooked world of Vinyl T Profiles, shedding light on their importance, applications, and benefits in achieving flawless flooring transitions. From defining boundaries between different flooring materials to concealing edges and providing a safe, smooth transition between surfaces, Vinyl T Profiles play a pivotal role in elevating the visual appeal and functionality of any interior space.

Join us as we uncover the versatility, practicality, and design possibilities of Vinyl T Profiles, showcasing their transformative power in creating cohesive and visually stunning flooring installations. Whether you're embarking on a new flooring project or seeking to enhance an existing space, understanding the significance of Vinyl T Profiles is key to achieving professional-looking results that stand the test of time.

So, let's shine a spotlight on these often-underappreciated elements and discover how Vinyl T Profiles can elevate your flooring transitions to new heights of sophistication and style.

Understanding Vinyl T Profiles

Vinyl T Profiles, also known as transition strips or T-moldings, are essential components in flooring installations, particularly in spaces where different types of flooring materials meet. These profiles typically have a T-shaped design, with a horizontal top section that spans the gap between the two flooring surfaces and a vertical stem that fits snugly into the gap.

The primary function of Vinyl T Profiles is to create seamless transitions between different flooring materials, such as vinyl planks, laminate, hardwood, tile, or carpet. By bridging the gap between these surfaces, Vinyl T Profiles not only enhance the visual appeal of the transition but also provide a smooth and safe transition for foot traffic.

Vinyl T Profiles come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and designs to accommodate different flooring thicknesses and aesthetic preferences. Common variations include flat-top T Profiles, which provide a clean and minimalistic transition, and ramped-edge T Profiles, which offer a gradual slope between flooring surfaces.

In addition to their transitional role, Vinyl T Profiles also serve practical purposes, such as covering expansion gaps, preventing tripping hazards, and protecting the edges of the flooring materials from damage. Some profiles may even feature built-in channels for concealing wiring or cables, making them ideal for use in commercial settings or home entertainment areas.

Overall, understanding the purpose and versatility of Vinyl T Profiles is essential for achieving professional-looking flooring transitions that enhance both the appearance and functionality of any space. Whether you're renovating a residential home or designing a commercial space, Vinyl T Profiles are indeed the unsung heroes that ensure your flooring transitions are seamless and visually appealing.

Applications and Installation of Vinyl T Profiles

Vinyl T Profiles find a wide range of applications in various flooring transitions, offering seamless solutions for both residential and commercial spaces. Understanding how to select and install these profiles is crucial for achieving professional-looking results. Here's a closer look at their applications and installation process:

Practical Applications:

Transition Between Different Flooring Materials: Vinyl T Profiles are commonly used to transition between different types of flooring materials, such as tile to vinyl, hardwood to carpet, or laminate to tile. They provide a smooth and safe transition while maintaining visual continuity between the surfaces.

Expansion Joint Cover: In floating floor installations, Vinyl T Profiles can cover expansion joints along the perimeter of the room, allowing the flooring to expand and contract with changes in temperature and humidity without causing damage.

Edge Protection: Vinyl T Profiles also serve to protect the exposed edges of flooring materials, reducing the risk of chips, cracks, or wear over time. This is especially important in high-traffic areas or where the flooring meets other surfaces, such as walls or stairs.

Installation Process:

Measure and Cut: Begin by measuring the width of the gap between the two flooring surfaces where the Vinyl T Profile will be installed. Use a fine-tooth saw or a utility knife to cut the profile to the appropriate length.

Prepare the Subfloor: Ensure that the subfloor is clean, dry, and free of any debris or adhesive residue. If necessary, use a suitable adhesive or double-sided tape to secure the Vinyl T Profile in place.

Install the Profile: Position the Vinyl T Profile over the gap between the flooring materials, ensuring that the vertical stem is inserted securely into the gap. Press down firmly to ensure proper adhesion or use screws or nails for additional support, depending on the profile's design.

Finishing Touches: Once the Vinyl T Profile is installed, make any necessary adjustments to ensure a snug fit and smooth transition between the flooring surfaces. Clean any excess adhesive or debris from the profile and surrounding area to achieve a clean and polished finish.

By understanding the various applications and following proper installation techniques, you can effectively utilize Vinyl T Profiles to achieve seamless and visually appealing flooring transitions in any space. Whether you're renovating a home or completing a commercial project, Vinyl T Profiles are indeed the unsung heroes that ensure your flooring transitions are both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

Benefits and Advantages of Vinyl T Profiles

Vinyl T Profiles offer a multitude of benefits and advantages that make them indispensable in flooring installations. Here are some of the key advantages of using Vinyl T Profiles:

Seamless Transitions: One of the primary advantages of Vinyl T Profiles is their ability to create seamless transitions between different types of flooring materials. Whether transitioning between vinyl planks and carpet, laminate and tile, or hardwood and vinyl, Vinyl T Profiles ensure a smooth and visually appealing transition that enhances the overall aesthetics of the space.

Durability and Longevity: Vinyl T Profiles are constructed from durable materials, such as PVC (polyvinyl chloride) or aluminum, which are designed to withstand daily wear and tear. They provide edge protection for flooring materials, reducing the risk of damage from foot traffic, furniture movement, or other impacts. Additionally, Vinyl T Profiles are resistant to moisture, stains, and fading, ensuring long-lasting performance in both residential and commercial settings.

Design Flexibility: With a wide range of shapes, sizes, and designs available, Vinyl T Profiles offer unparalleled design flexibility to suit various aesthetic preferences and flooring applications. Whether you prefer a flat-top profile for a minimalist look or a ramped-edge profile for a gradual transition, there's a Vinyl T Profile to complement any design style or flooring type.

Easy Maintenance: Vinyl T Profiles are inherently low-maintenance, requiring minimal upkeep to maintain their appearance and functionality. They can be easily cleaned with mild soap and water or a gentle household cleaner to remove dirt, dust, or debris. Unlike traditional transition methods, such as wooden thresholds or metal strips, Vinyl T Profiles are resistant to warping, rusting, or corroding, making them ideal for high-traffic areas or moisture-prone environments.

Versatility: In addition to their primary function as flooring transition strips, Vinyl T Profiles offer versatility in other applications, such as covering expansion joints, concealing wiring or cables, or creating decorative accents. They can be installed in various locations, including doorways, entryways, hallways, or stairs, to achieve a cohesive and polished finish throughout the space.

Overall, the benefits and advantages of Vinyl T Profiles make them indispensable components in flooring installations, providing both practical functionality and aesthetic appeal. Whether you're renovating a residential home, commercial space, or multifamily property, Vinyl T Profiles are indeed the unsung heroes that ensure your flooring transitions are seamless, durable, and visually stunning.

Conclusion

Vinyl T Profiles may often go unnoticed, but their significance in flooring installations cannot be overstated. As the unsung heroes of flooring transitions, these versatile accessories play a crucial role in achieving seamless, durable, and visually appealing transitions between different types of flooring materials. From providing edge protection and covering expansion joints to creating smooth transitions and enhancing design aesthetics, Vinyl T Profiles offer a multitude of benefits and advantages that elevate the overall quality and functionality of any space.

As we've explored in this article, Vinyl T Profiles offer durability, design flexibility, easy maintenance, and versatility, making them indispensable components in both residential and commercial flooring projects. Whether you're renovating a home, designing a commercial space, or completing a multifamily property, Vinyl T Profiles are indeed the unsung heroes that ensure your flooring transitions are both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

So, the next time you embark on a flooring project, remember to give Vinyl T Profiles the attention they deserve. With their ability to create seamless transitions, enhance durability, and elevate design aesthetics, Vinyl T Profiles truly stand out as the unsung heroes that make all the difference in achieving professional-looking flooring installations.

[digital-1-marketing]

Invest in SPC Vinyl Click Flooring: Long-Lasting Solution

SPC Vinyl Click Flooring is a revolutionary product, providing an excellent alternative to traditional flooring types. Combining the strength of stone and the resilience of plastic composite, it offers unbeatable durability and an aesthetic appeal that's hard to surpass. This innovative floor covering material is crafted with a dense core that resists impact, wear, and water damage, thereby offering an extended lifespan compared to other flooring options.