#moles seeds

[aliengummy]

🥣

[morethansalad]

Pumpkin Mole with Grilled Tofu and Mexican Tomato Rice (Vegan)

[georgecostanxa]

covered in grass seeds

[mariedean]

Turkey Mole Poblano Thanksgiving dinner gets a mole poblano makeover with turkey, five chiles, spices, nuts, tomatoes, tortillas, and Mexican chocolate.

[rainbowsky]

Melons are like an amusement park ride. They're not meant to be like ordinary everyday life (AKA realistic), they're meant to be a thrill. You might lose your lunch or you might make a fool of yourself screaming your lungs out, but the end of the day it's just for fun. 😅

this is why we shouldn’t believe big name fans or melons when it comes to their work arrangements. especially for live stages. it’s only confirmed once the platform announces it.

[reshinless]

Been seeing alot of spiderman Kinich content on the clock app and this gave me an idea

Reader gets gwen stacy'd and kinich fails to save them lol then he wakes up and then they bang

──── through the phone mask

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. before he goes, how about a peck, yeah through his mask!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. spiderman!kinich x gn!afab!reader (this will end up in smut, so !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!) angst + comfort (in a way?? death mention but no actual death happens! just a bad dream)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. oooo i could not stop thinking about this during class!!

"mwa!" you cheer- briefly backing away as you admire you boyfriend, kinich, that puts his mask on. you pray that this spiderman stuff didn't pressure him at all.

"mmm... one more?" as he turned around to face you again. you chuckled as you tilted your head, stepping closer to the window sill he crouched on. "one more? i think you've had enough for today." a teasing tone present in you sonorously.

he gave you a pleading look in hopes to earn accolade (in which this case is a kiss. or two. or three.) you could giggle, feeling the way he still tried to kiss you through the mask he wore, concealing his identity to all, except you of course.

"mmmwa!" you brush your lips against the fabric that kept all of this a secret. you were so pretty when you smiled. he likes that little dimple that appears on your cheek when you grinned- or maybe the mole on your neck right there. mmmaybe he should count them soon.

but when there's a moment where kinich saves everyone but you, he'd never forgive himself. when there's a moment where kinich can catch everyone when they're falling but you. when there are gonna be moments that only star him, and missing you. like how a seed would long for a soil bed, or how the moonlight doesn't shine without its sun.

he was terrified of losing someone as precious as you were. for as long as you both lived, he wanted to spend as much time with you. his love language was all about spending time with you, and doing things for you, he knew you could handle yourself, but he loves knowing you rely on him for a few things (even if they're simple). so losing you would be losing a huge part of himself.

in all the years you both got to spend together, you spent it along side your best wingwoman; mualani. growing up by both of your sides, he never felt alone, or unneeded. he felt everything was finally coming together.

so when he saw the scene before him- it was you. being stabbed in the stomach by a spike below the now-broken bridge. even in death you were so pretty. your head was laid down on his lap, barely opening your eyes, just enough to let a few tears trickle down the softness of your cheeks.

"i'm.. sorry i couldn't do enough for you." were the words you whispered, holding his cheek before finally passing on to the next world.

no he couldn't handle the scene at all. and only now is when he realizes- he should spend more time. he'll make sure you won't feel like that when he meets you again. he knows he'll recognize you. he'd know you from anywhere, anytime, any appearance, anywho.

kinich wakes up in tears, clear tear stains on the place he rest his face into. your pjs have small marks, drops of tears where they'd landed off his face. your eyes flutter open a few seconds later, realizing he's no longer in your arms.

"kin? wh.. what's wrong? why are you crying?" you immediately got up to wipe the small sobs off his cheeks. "..you're still here.. thank god, you're still here." he suddenly hugs you, fitting his head into your nape. his hold was tight, and affectionate. enough to know that he's happy that you're still present.

"yeah, i'd never leave. was.. was it a dream?" you asked, massaging his scalp to soothe his stress. he could only hum in response, he felt a little pathetic to admit that he was, but it was the first step to accepting it.

"do.. you ever feel like i'm mistreating you?" his head popped up from the spot it was previously. "what? no you're not. in fact, i feel like i'm not doing enough for you, baby." you chuckle, shifting your head to front him a little better.

"you've done more than you think for me." his hand held a soft grasp on your palm, you could feel a few scars on his hand. "really? i find it hard to believe." you let out a giggle, certainly a superhero who does things to make sure the city is a safe place for all, feels like you do more? that was in your point of view anyway.

"may.. i show you how much i can repay you then? i want to show you.. i want you to feel how thankful i am that you're here."

whatever it was in that dream of his definitely helped yours come true. "mmm, someone's ahhn- enjoying, ngh themselves.." he grunted out, hitting you from behind so good, you can't do anything but sit there and take it.

you could feel every little ridge on his dick, the sweat emitting from your body, combined with the drops spouting from the pores of his palms. damn you couldn't even hold your own moans back in courtesy for the people in the next dorm. "mmmffffuckkk.. s'good kin.." you whined, you shut your eyes in ectasy

he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your plush ass barely swallowing his shaft each time. every shlick only made you even wetter. you could feel his length twitching inside you, each time he hit your very core.

your folds felt so insanely good, wrapping around the base of his dick so well, even inside you it felt so warm. the way you were basically getting stretched out, it reached even further into you, in his observation seeing how your eyebrows knitted- he assumed you liked it like that, kissing your insides!

he slowed the pace of his sloppy thrusts briefly to reach over for the phone on the nightstand. "you mind if we take a photo, pretty? love the way you look right now, 'd hate to miss such a face."

he'd be too busy admiring your face to realize how long he'd been grinding against your precious spot. he knew exactly how to make you use the expressions he wanted.

kissing your neck hungrily, making sure you face the camera as it recorded, letting it see all of you.

watching how your body reacted to his so well, he couldn't help but coo into your ear about how good you were doing.

"such a pretty kitty, mmm? and they're all mine aren't they? he continued, on the edge of the bed- making sure you see yourself in the mirror in front of you.

"this is what i admire everyday. hnnn.. s'tight, fffuck.." he groaned into you, letting you sit on his dick, riding it while watching his reaction through the mirror.

you couldn't help but piston your hips repeatedly, you were already so wet, might as well put it to use!

he held your hand throughout everything, squeezing it every now and then to indirectly ask if you're doing okay. kissing down from your nape to your shoulder blades, you were perfect from the ground till your ears.

for what seemed like the umpteenth time, he cums inside you. warm seed shoots up into your body, creaming on his cock at the same time.

kinich who holds you by the waist, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. still trying to catch his breath- but still makes an effort to kiss your cheek.

still makes an effort to carry your trembling body to the bathroom. still makes an effort to clean you up. still makes an effort to eat you out slowly afterwards.

he who already misses you while you were still in the room. he couldn't help but cuddle with you for a bit before going out again. it was sunday already anyway, and he spent the moments where the sun rose elsewhere (eating you out/giving bj)

kinich who loved the idea of making out with you right after, still having to go out since you both spent the whole night.. intimately. half of his mask is still on but all you do is lift it up a little, enough for his lips to be visible enough for you to peck.

he makes sure you're sound asleep before he goes, he'll be back before you know it anyway.

[ridingthatd]

❥ YANDERE MEGUMI

-ˏ͛⑅ megumixfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, yandere, possessive, obsession, masturbation, spit kink ⑅ˏ͛-

here you were, a beautiful little thing- his beautiful little thing. walking out of the minka, that was just near his room. he was so lucky- the luckiest person to exist in this household to be able to sleep a foot away from where you sleep. to be able to breath the same air that you breath. to be able to admire you walking out and into your room every. single. day.

you were the daughter of the empress. the empress of this household. megumi blood run cold as he thinks about your father- no he doesn't not deserve to be called your father. no no you were a goddess that heaven gave him. that heaven made just for him.

megumis smiles, his heart beating out of his chest. his heart beating- calling your name. each beat his heart took. each breath he breathed. was all chanting your name- it was all for you.

his smile widen as he stares at the painting he's drawing. one of his pale skilled hand was placed on the brush, moving it swiftly as he trace your figure- tracing what he memorized. every. single. detail. from the little mole on your left plumpy ass cheek, to the pinkish hard nipples of yours.

while his other hand was filled with his thick cock. wetness dripping down his hand as it move slow yet hard. squeezing the tip of his cock as he trace the line of your clit. eyes half-lidded. his cock was throbbing, sloppy between his fingers.

he lets out whimper after whimper as his hand go faster on his twitching cock. holding back his orgasm- holding it back to savor the moment. his thighs shake as he dips the paintbrush he was using into a cup of water. rinsing the paint away, before he gently place it on the clit of his red cock. he whines as he brush the paintbrush against his leaking cock. making sure the precum that was leaking soak the paintbrush.

his cock was so sensitive, so close to spilling, ragging red ready to spurt. but he held back swiping his cum soaked brush into your drawn nipples- he stroke his cock faster. into your mouth- he stroke harder. and finally into your trimmed pussy- his mouth half open, letting out a shaky breath.

"ah- ah- ah!" and he gush out his seeds, hot white cum kept streaming out of his thick cock. it kept coming out non-stop, his whole body shaked as he didn't stop stroking his sensitive cock, squeezing every single last drop.

"fuck- no! no! that's not enough" he cries out, tears trailing down his heated face. he tug harshly on his black locks, shaking from anger. shaking from the intense orgasm he had. glancing down at his palette it was filled with his white cum, mixing with the paint. it was a lot, a lot of warm cum but it wasn't enough- he needed to fill it. he needed to fill you.

his gaze moves to the drawing- the drawing he drew of you. how perfect it was. how perfect it was just like the other paintings he made of you were. the walls of his room was surrounded with painting- naked paintings of you. every painting was you in a different position.

bend over, your full round ass was shoved up while you glance back smiling as his cum drips down your ass. laying down your soft boobs were spilled out of your kimono, nipples painted with his white liquid. on your knees, tongue out filled with the his seeds that he spilled.

but this time he failed- he didn't spill enough of his cum- of his seed. it wasn't enough to fill your warm pussy. he needed more a lot more.

"more- hic she needs to be filled more!" he hiccup through his tears, smashing the drawing board into the floor.

then something clicks into his mind as he stare at the drawing. your pretty little pussy- the inside of your warm little pussy, he hasn't got a good look of it yet. YES! this is why, he smiles. running his hands down his face. this is why he failed, he needs to see- no he needs to fuck your warm cunt.

he needs to feel it around him, get a taste, get a feel of your warm skin. after all you were his- you were meant to be his. he had enough of just lurking around while you shower in the hot spring. while you sleep peacefully in the dark night. he had enough of just looking but not touching, just imagining but not experiencing.

you were his! you were his! he paced around his room, he needed to have you. he needed to place his fat cock where it belonged. he glace at the thrown drawing before he runs towards it, clenching it to his face.

"I'm sorry! I know your poor little pussy needs me" he whimpers, staring at the paper in his hand. the way you were drawn. laying down, pussy spread, looking at him- ready for his throbbing cock.

he slowly brings the paper to his mouth, rubbing his tongue on your drawn pussy. moaning as he pumps his already hard cock. drool spilling down his lips. his cock was on fire- it hurted. it hurted so good, the burning feeling was to good.

he had to relieve the burn with hard strokes on his hardened shaft, slicked with his own cum rather than your pussy- fucking the tight grip of his fist with his mouth hanging open. not caring about the way his spit was gushing everywhere. he rolled his fist around the reddened tip to smooth the wetness along his length, thin veins pulsing for the contact of a wet cunt only to settle for his hand that could never mimic the suction of your pussy. leak beads of cum from his tip, heat coursing through his veins.

he's going to have you.

wet sloppy strokes fill the air of your room. you were sleeping fondly. megumi groans as your soft breath hits his hard cock that he was stroking up your sleeping face.

here he was standing hands on his cock shamesly beating it near your face. his other hand was on his mouth- muffling his whines and whimpers as his eyes roll behind his skull everytime your hot breath hits his red sensitive tip.

" mhm-! ngh" he whine out through his hand as he glance at the way his wetness was dropping on your face, so turned on by the sight as he sloppily stroke his cock- so close so close.

closing his eyes tightly, his abs clenching indicating hes gonna cum any moment, as soon he open his eyes- making eye contact with your wide open ones. he squirts, shoots of cum gush out of his ragging cock, the veins on it popping, his whimpers were no longer muffled by his hand.

"ah- im sorry-" he whines out, crying because he couldn't control his dick that was still shooting strips of hot cum on your face, dripping down your lips- he can't no more, it was to much.

"I can't- im sorry! im sorry!" his cums shoots one last time, before his body gives out and he lands on top of you. trembling, shaking.

matching the way you were also trembling and shaking- what just happened? megumi fushiguro? he was a duke- your art teacher. you thought maybe you were dreaming but the hot wetness of his cum on your face seems to be to real.

megumis hands trembles as he clenchs his fist into your bed sheets, his shoulder shakes as he laughs- laughs hysterically from happiness.

you stiffen, this sight of megumi you have never seen before- he was a composed nobel man, you would never think he was a pervert- a pervert who just spilled his seeds on you with no shame.

his eyes peaks out of your blanket, staring at you- watching your every move. watching what you're going to do.

yet you don't move, holding your breath. praying to the goddess that it was just a dream. that what's happening isn't true. but it was very much true, the talented nobel whom you admire lays next to you- staring at you like you're a prey. like you're something he wanna feast on. like you're seconds away from losing your life.

"I won't hurt you, my lady" megumi whispers as his hands slowly make their way toward your face causing you to flinch. you remine silent because you know your words had a huge impact on what's megumi is going to do.

while your mind runs a mile, megumi was just in awe. staring at your cum covered face- covered with his cum, it only seems to make his heart flutter and his cock throb. you didn't scream or try to run away.

megumi knew it, you guys were meant to be! he smiles from ear to ear at you, as he leans in just to stick his warm wet tongue out and lick his own cum out of yours face- it was filthy, dirty but he liked- no he craved it. the way your soft skin felt under his sloppy messy tongue, he craved the taste of your skin.

you couldn't help the moan that slipped past your lips, as you feel him gently suck on your lips- his tongue was so greedy, licking every corner of your lips, before he shoves it deep inside of your throat.

stroking his tongue against yours, feeling your spit mix together- it's like you're being drowned with his spit. you gasp as you feel him taking your tongue into his mouth and sucking it. you feel heat run through you. you couldn't ignore the wetness between your thighs anymore.

maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if- you whimper as he break the kiss, staring at you with hungry eyes. hungry eyes that are going to devour you any moment.

"spit in my mouth" he pathetically whispers flipping you so you're on top of him- not waiting for your answer, his large hands making there way under your night grown gripping your ass hard.

you look at his pleading eyes before you lean in and let the string of warm spit land inside of his opened mouth. his eyes roll back as he gets the taste of your spit.

"mhm-!" he groans, holding your ass harder before you feel something warm gush on your thighs, and it's your time to moan- you were so turned on. so turned on by the fact he just spurt his seeds from having a taste of your spit.

"em sorry- em sorry!" he cries out like last time clearly ashamed, tear filling his eyes. you couldn't help but coo at him, gently grabbing his head and placing it on your shoulder, shushing his sobs.

once his sobs were silent, you thought maybe he fell asleep but you were so wrong. you gasp as you feel your panties being turn roughly off you. before you were turned around back facing his chest.

"need to breed you" he whispers as if it's something known. as if it's something he had the very right to do.

"i need to sleep" you softly mutters out, trying to be reasonable with him. "it's okay, go to sleep, my darling" his warm voice was directly in your ear, peaking his tongue out, lick the sensitive insides of your ear.

"I'll do the work" he smirks, lining his huge cock against your folds before slowly yet painfully slipping in. he shushs your pained whispers, with his own whimpers.

his cock glides in, filling every inch of you. every inch of your warm insides. he couldn't help but laugh, happiness pouring through him.

"see I'm right here" he groans into your ear, as he squeeze your belly- he was indeed deep inside of you, you can feel it all- the way he hits your womb every time he thrusts.

"shh go to sleep" he coo at you as he warp his arms around your belly, "keep you warm with my cock tonight, tomorrow we mate" he mutters out sleepy. chanting it like a promise.

and he did keep his promise.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟto be continued? ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

: ̗̀➛ if you're into gojo/geto fics click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[wrathful-reptile]

Flight Rising needs a gardening minigame.

Just like. Where you can turn plant food items into seeds, then into sprouts, and they give you more of that food item when it's grown. Maybe make it similar to nesting where you get a chance to get x amount of said plant food item if you water it for x amount of days or something?

and maybe you could have 6 or so of these mini gardens?

OR it could be an active wack-a-mole style minigame in the fairgrounds where you (A) Pull weeds up that sprout in the garden or (B) water the plants as a little water drop icon appears over them

[rainbowsky]

All melons are still saying Tencent is a possibility, so it's possible Fat Shrimp was referring to Scream Night (melons tend to die when properly debunked).

Anonymous asked

Heyyy RBS

hope you’re doing well

I saw this tweet [redacted] and wanted to know who fat shrimp is?

Hi Anon, I'm doing OK, thanks. I hope you are doing well too. 😊

There isn't a lot of precise information available about who that is. What we know for sure is that it is the Weibo account of a high profile XFX who is one of the leaders of the official fan club. Because of their position with the fan club and the assumption that they have some contact with XZ Studio (it is rumored they work for WJJW, although that is unconfirmed), their posts and comments are taken pretty seriously by fans.

They frequently post guidance and clarifications for fans that appear to come directly from the studio or someone closely connected to GG's team.

However, they have also posted some questionable and problematic things in the past, so I think even their words should be taken with a grain of salt. Especially if it is true that they work for WJJW (a management company that GG has had bad blood within the past).

We should always remember that above all things, this person is representative of XFX, and their perspectives tend to cater to the solo side of things. Therefore I don't really consider them our friend.

However, when it comes to schedule info, I think we can probably rely on what they are saying. Although in this case it is unclear exactly which event they are saying GG will not attend. The original question was about both Tencent and Scream Night, and they didn't specify in their response if they meant one or both of the events.

There was never any likelihood that he would go to Scream Night. He is still filming Legend of the Condor Heroes, and it's not rumored to wrap until a few days before the event. It's possible that it won't be wrapping until even later in the month.

He would not have any time to prepare for that event and in any case, DD will be there. I don't see them both attending an event that small. It would be a disaster of fan wars and mayhem, and would put the spotlight squarely on them rather than on the event, which is not in their best interest.

As for Tencent, there was a much higher likelihood that he would attend that event because he's had so many projects with them. However, he hasn't been going to many of these kinds of things for the past couple of years so don't think we should be particularly surprised if he doesn't attend.

It's important for us to look back over the past couple of years and see what's been going on before getting ourselves worked up about the possibility that either of them would be at a particular event.

I also think that it's important to not get carried away with hopes that they will both appear at the same event and especially that they would ever appear on the same stage. I don't get why turtles get so wrapped up in this dream, it's so unlikely and rare and overall I think pretty unrealistic expectation to set.

Don't get yourselves set up for disappointment, it's a foolish game.

[yumeka-sxf]

New chapter today, and even though most of it seemed to continue the silly tone from the previous one, the last few pages actually shocked me! 👀

For the first time, ANYA CONFESSED TO SOMEONE THAT SHE CAN READ MINDS! Now this doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy will happen in the series from now on, since Damian doesn't believe her (at first). But proving that you can read minds is easy to do, so the question now becomes, will Anya keep trying to prove it to Damian until he believes her? Or will she regret it later and not try to prove it, and then the plot point isn't touched on again? Regardless, this chapter definitely makes it seem like Damian will be the first person to know about her mind-reading powers.

Then there's the question of why Anya chose to confess this to Damian? I think it's a combination of a few reasons, the main one being that Damian doesn't have any connection to her family, so little risk of him telling them and thus bringing about the fear of abandonment Anya has should they find out. This might also be why she chose to tell him over Becky, since Becky already has somewhat of a relationship with Loid and Yor. The other reason could be that, as time has gone on, she's learned to trust him, at least when it comes to something like this. As hostile as he is towards her, she knows that he's not a double-crosser or a blabbermouth, and deep down he wants to do what's right. And lastly, it was the heat of a moment - her knowledge about him seemed weird so he questioned it, and perhaps at that highlighted moment, when Damian was being genuinely nice to her (since she can read minds, she knows if he's being genuine or not), she wanted to try not lying for once, just to see what happens.

Guess we'll have to wait until next time to see if anything ground-breaking comes from this...will Anya keep pursuing this, will she regret it and let Damian continue to not believe her, or will it just not be mentioned again until later? This reminded me a bit of the Mole Hunt arc where Yuri became suspicious of Loid, but the latter was able to throw him off the track. But the seed of suspicious was planted nonetheless. In this case, even if Damian continues to think Anya was lying, a seed of suspicion may have been planted in him too that could come into play much later on. We'll see!

But besides this big event, a few other notable things in this chapter was super rare soft Damian from the above page. This continues to prove what I've always thought - that Damian acts the way he does to appear "proper" in front of his peers, but when he's alone with Anya, his real feelings seep out. She's a rare person where he doesn't feel the need to put on airs around.

We also got more Henderson x Martha crumbs. Love to see it.

Also loved to see Anya getting cocky and Loid freaking out about it 😅

Overall, even though I'm not as into Damianya as I am Twiyor, I still enjoy seeing their progress, and this chapter was definitely one of the most Damianya-chapters of all~ Despite some of the "dance with Damian" challenges being a bit too silly for my taste (like, how did Emile and Ewen organize all that last minute?) the payoff at the end was worth it! Loid and Yor better get themselves together or their daughter will end up beating them in the romance department 😂

[riediaries]

satoru knows every part of you. every things you like and hate. he's able to locate each and every mole you have on your body and how many it is. it's like knowing you have been a second nature to him. in order words, he knows your whole nature and that's how you fell in love with him.

he knows you don't like eating a watermelon with seeds on it. you don't want to spit it out after or let alone eat it.

satoru silently observes you as you payed all of your attention to the sliced watermelon on your hands. picking every black seeds you see in the fruit.

you were getting irritated and he sighs, picking a sliced watermelon on the table and removed all the seeds in mere seconds.

"here, eat this. i already removed all of the seeds." he hands you a sliced watermelon. the red juicy part was clean. no seeds. just like how you like it.

"ah.. thanks.." you murmur, accepting the fruit and that was first time you felt a fluttering emotion on your tummy as you stare at the watermelon he handed you.

"mhm.." he hums. "you don't like it with the seeds on it, right?" he asks and you nodded. he hums again, nodding his head in a subtle way.

no seeds on her sliced watermelon, got it.

you like the beach, especially the sunset. he remembers peeking on your phone one time and due to his curiosity, he opened your photo gallery and you have a folder named 'sunsets<3'.

it has a lot of your pictures in the beach, capturing the breathtaking sunset and there are also pictures with just the sun but he likes the pictures with you in it. you're prettier than the sunset, anyways.

"we should go here sometime. the four of us." he tells suguru as they walk on the sand barefooted.

they just finished their mission and their flight will be tomorrow morning so they're spending their time to relax.

satoru keeps his eye on the setting sun. pink and purples hues were seen on the sky.

picture.. yes. i should take a picture for her. he thoughts and brought out his phone to take a picture. he sends the picture to you.

annoying blue-eyed freak: sent a photo.

annoying blue-eyed freak: sunset's pretty here today. you might like it.

you take a look at the photo he sent and the photo's automatically saved on your folder 'picture he sends'.

sunset lover princess: thanks, love it.

he smiles over the three letter word you sent. yep, his day's now complete with just your reply.

unknowingly to him, suguru secretly took a photo of him and he captured the most breathtaking satoru gojo photo to exist.

it's a photo of him on his side, smiling on his phone and the background is the sunset.

cool bangs: sent a photo.

your phone dings. you thought it's another photo of sunset from satoru but no. it's satoru with the sunset but he's not looking at the camera.

you stare at it for good few minutes.

cool bangs: if you're just going to stare at it, you might as well save it. i might delete it.

that message from suguru alone had your fingers saving his photo and put it on another album. a secret album named 'photos i love'.

yes, definitely 'love'.

satoru also knows that you love movie nights with them. horror, romance, or action. name all the genres present. you once told him that it's not about the movie you're excited but being able to spend time with your friends.

being a jujutsu sorcerer at a young age costs your freedom as a child and to dream. you will never know when you will die or vanish from this world. that's why you're spending all of their freedom time with you and they're actually okay with it.

same feelings, as they said.

"ahh! suguru! tell me when the haunted dolls are gone!" satoru clings to suguru as he scream out of his lungs.

"no, you watch it satoru. be a big brave man." he teases the young boy more. "i heard she likes men who's brave and can watch horror movies with her." he whispers to his best friend.

satoru eyes his best friend with a look of suspicious. "are you... sure?"

"her biggest turn off is actually a scared cat like men." he hums, adding more false informations about your type. "meaning, a boy like you, satoru." he dramatically covered his forehead and his eyes to express his disappointment for his best friend.

suguru knows that even when his best friend is screaming like a lady, you'll still like him. even though he can't bear to watch a single horror movie, you'll still like him because he's satoru. the annoying blue-eyed freak that constantly running on your mind twenty-four seven.

the two best friends eyes the two of you. shoko and you, unimpressed on their nonstop bickering and satoru's screams and unbothered on the horror scene in front of you.

wow. just wow. what a scene.

ever since then, you always invite them to watch a newly released movie, mostly horrors but in rare cases, you want to watch romance.

"oh sweet. they're kissing like it's the end of the world." satoru commented as he pushes a mouthful of popcorn on his mouth.

shoko and suguru went out for a smoke since romance is not really their thing but they still agreed to watch just to see you happy. and they couldn't refuse when you were that cute begging them to watch it with them.

"because that's how they are desperate to be with each other." you reply. "i mean, you'll surely kiss a person like that when the world's trying to separate you. you will pour all of your emotions in that kiss to express your feelings." you further explains.

he raises an eyebrow at you. "i thought you're only interested in horror. why are you so knowledgeable about love?"

"books..?"

"yeah? and?"

"what do you mean by that?"

"have you ever kissed a person like that before?" his question caught you off guard and you turns to him.

"what? no! it's not like that! do i need to have an experience to explain those?" you defend yourself. you haven't been kissed yet!

"want me to give you an experience, then?"

you were caught you off guard and you didn't have time to react when he leans to you, kissing the side of your lips. too close to be called a kiss. too close to end your 'no first kiss' phase.

"i like you." he mutters as he looks at you straight in the eye. you're still close to each other and you can feel his breathe on your skin. "more than any of my favorite sweets." he adds, making you laugh.

"i like you, too. more than any favorite sunset i had captured and saw." you confess.

he smiles but his face immediately turns into a sour face. "even though i can barely watch a horror movie?" he asks cutely and you burst into laugh.

"w-who.." you can't stop yourself from laughing. "who said that?"

"suguru." he mentions his best friend. so, the dark haired male is the suspect on spreading false claims.

"I like someone who removes all of the seeds on my sliced watermelon." he smiles at that sentence.

"i like someone who will immediately thought of me whenever he sees sunset and sends me a picture of it." he smiles even more as he closes the gap between you slowly.

"yeah? and? you like someone who's very handsome, too, right?" he grins. "you like a certain someone whose contact name is 'annoying blue-eyed freak', right?"

it made you chuckle. how did he even know that one? you always made sure to lock your phone and keep the password to yourself only.

"i like someone who can't watch a horror movie with me and full of screams–"

he shuts you up by putting his lips onto yours and then pulls away.

your 'no first kiss' phase have officially signed off.

satoru clearly knows that you love movie nights, especially horror movies with him screaming but satoru knows that you love him even more than your collection of horror movies and the sunset you have ever captured and saw in your whole life.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When you say you love Gator during sex and he cums immediately.

He’s working up his frenzied pace, normally slicked back hair in strands of disarray. He can’t quite meet your mouth, breaths jagged pants that smell like faded vape and chew. It’s disgusting, but it tastes like Gator… And you fucking love it. No one is speaking loudly, voices lying in fragments across pleaded whispers.

That is, until, you can no longer contain yourself. Nails digging into that ink wrapped around his bicep, every mole and freckle available to eye fuck, tracing your gaze right back up to meet his blown pupils - delicious amber shards scattered into an inky, enriching abyss. One of your hands slides off his back, cupping around his neck, cradling tightly when you say it, right as he’s pushing into a deep thrust.

“I love you, Gator,” you state, an emotional whine following your finality to the statement, breathless at how he’s fucking you. “I’m so in love with you.”

You wish you could capture his face on film within this very moment. His eyes go wide, his beautiful, kiss swollen mouth drops open, and his hips stutter, causing him to collapse his full weight onto you as he gives a long, belly deep, honey hot moan. He’s coming immediately, following your declaration, burying his face into your neck to stifle sniffling aftershocks. You hold him through it, your chest bursting with pride, cunt soaked with need, with his fucking seed. He always pulls out, but this time?

You don’t find it within yourself to care, and neither does he, apparently. You kiss his sweaty crown, the side of his face, simultaneously locking your arms around his heaving back. You aren’t expecting anything back, you just feel grateful that he knows now. It’s quiet, however, for a few moments, until you think he’s fallen asleep against your breasts. But Gator surprises you, lifting himself from his cocoon in your flesh.

His irises are still a mere ring, his thumbpad tracing your lips to part them, making him lean in to kiss you deeply, breathlessly. You can’t find anything to say upon spit slick lips parting, but you’ve already had your moment. It’s time for Gator to have his. With one nose nudge, he looks you square in the eyes, giving into saying something he’s never been able to say to another human being within his entire lifetime.

“I’ve never loved another person. But I fuckin’ know that I love you.”

[morethansalad]

Vegan Pipián Verde with Mexican Jackfruit and Tofu (Pumpkin Seed Mole)

[scn-thedog]

PVPCIV WORLDBUILDING THOUGHT DUMP

i think there's differences in swords … not the actual swords but the people. like the wooden swords/pvp noobs are naturally more skinny and small and stuff because they can't afford food often… someone who was "born" in the wooden sword level will most likely be way shorter and skinnier than someone born in the stone sword level ←this is assuming spawning works kinda like how it does in parkciv and everyone doesn't just start out in the wooden sword level !! tabi is an exception to this and is Very Tall compared to most wooden swords :-)

iron swords are usually more bulky and fat because . they can afford to eat. most of them have claws or long nails because they don't need to fight teeth and nail to survive and long nails used to be a symbol of status (because it meant you could afford them to be long .bceause you didn't do farm work and stuff that would keep them short/make you cut them) . not a lot of people were born there though, the little ones that were born there are actually taller and pale-er than the average pvp citizen!

stone swords however are probably the most bulky …they fighting a lot!! and can afford food more than wood swords. most of the people born there have more scars than the average pvp civilization citizen since they're born in the level that fights the most . the second most resourceful level too, a lot of stone swords know how to use their items …and since they can actually get items they can do stuff with them (the wooden swords would be more resourceful than them if they could afford items more often) . typically very muscular BUT not tall

eating is seen as something very special and indicative of status since it's only ever used for healing most of the time, inviting someone to eat is seen as a super duper important invitation since food is so weirdly just …eaten . this only ever happens in the iron sword level though, and it's completely unheard of in the stone and wood levels

a lot of famine food like dishes go around since people prefer to ease their stomachs with something even if it won't help them heal or anything, so grass, bark, moss, seeds, etc. is commonly consumed to ease hunger. actual food is used solely for healing most of the time

↑↑↑wooden swords are the ones coming up with most of these dishes. it's so common for them to originate from there it's become common to refer to bad food (like beetroots and melon and other stuff that doesn't help with hunger) as "wooden food" or any similar variations

let's talk terminology !! "wooden" and "upper layer" is slang for cheap/bad. saying something is wooden would be to say it's cheap and/or bad (e.j.: "this is wooden food" "these are upper layer prices"). obviously a reference to the wooden sword level

↑wooden swords get back by calling layers below them moles, rats, and any less flattering variations like what zam called the diamond swords

stone swords are stereotyped to be the most agressive and irrational . it's not uncommon to say "stop being such a stone sword" to tell someone to calm down

i think that's it regarding pvpciv as the civilization. smiley face

[crappymixtape]

breathe you in

REQUEST → dear nonny, SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 💬 i really like #15 on the prompt list, cutie friends to lovers trope, thinking they were friends in high school, they just graduated, and they’ve been hanging out a few times that summer as “just friends” – you and the gang had planned on going to the river to cool off, but when everyone else bails you wind up sharing a joint with your best friend ( sweet, tentative best friends that get a needed push from a little green • fluff, a lil smoochie kiss...maybe a lil more than a smoochie kiss?? steve harrington x reader )

B R E A T H E Y O U I N 🎶 apocalypse, cigarettes after sex & heat of the moment, steve hackett ( live )

A breeze swept down the river, carrying dandelion seeds with it as it went. Winding through long stalks of fescue, between far-reaching oak branches, and over the high, plateaued boulders you lay against. The glittering, cool water of the river slowly carved its way through the rock and sand and earth below you. Filled your head with a steady rush, blending and blurring with the soft, constant breaths that fell into your ears.

Steve.

You could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, pressed arm to arm as your bodies left behind temporary memories of the river against the rocks. Memories of what it felt like to float close enough to him you could see tiny flecks of green swimming in the warm amber of his eyes.

Beads of water slipped off the ends of your hair, trailed over your shoulders, and down into the dip of your collarbone as the heat of the day pushed up through the thin fabric of your swimsuit to sooth your goosebumps.

Your skin was cool, but Steve was warm against you. His chest bare and dotted with moles, tiny constellations that came to life under your fingers as you traced little lines through them – dot to dot to dot. Warm and gold like the sun, like summer, like June, July, and August had tucked themselves between his ribs and decided to stay there forever.

You pulled in a breath, the faint scent of your coconut sunscreen mingling with the skunky haze Steve had blown into the air and you lifted heavy lashes to give him a sidelong glance.

A joint was wedged between his lips, his thumb and index finger lazily holding it steady as he took another hit, turning the end into a bright, orange glow, and it was impossible not to stare.

Your eyes wandered over locks of brown hair turned gold like the sun as they curled stuck and messy across his forehead, wet from swimming in the river. Followed the sharp, all-too-handsome angles of his nose and jaw and the way his cheeks hollowed out when he pulled in another hit.

He turned his head on the rock to meet your gaze and blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth, his lips tugging up into a grin.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, princess?” he teased.

Narrowing your eyes you bit back a smirk of your own and reached over, pinching the joint between your fingers to bring it to your lips. “Just hoping you’re gonna leave some for me," you sucked in a breath and held it deep in your lungs until it burned a little, tipping your chin up and blowing it out into the blue.

Steve laughed, propping up on an elbow and taking the joint from you, “Afraid we’re gonna run out?”

“Maybe,” you rolled onto your stomach and rested your chin on your forearms, warm and flat against the rocks, fixing him with a look.

“Mmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, taking another drag and holding his breath.

“What is it genius?”

“Okay–” he started, but coughed against the harsh hit, “–o–okay.” Clearing his throat he pushed himself up to sit and tugged at your elbow, you too. “So. I saw this thing in a movie once and...well, what if we tried it?”

There was a glint in Steve’s eye, too warm and curious, a flicker of something like more, more, more and heat settled in your chest, the cool of your swimsuit all but forgotten. Sitting up, you tried to ignore how flustered you felt.

“Harrington, if this has anything to do with Fast Times, I swear I’ll–”

He laughed again and the sound made everything feel fuzzy.

“Not that one,” he scooted toward you, your knees knocking together. “Here, you gotta be a little closer," the rough pads of his fingers pressed into your calves, gently tugging you forward and you found yourself more than happy to oblige.

“Better?” you asked softly, your knees hovering over his thighs and close enough to him you could smell something citrusy, cedar and fresh laundry and boy.

He swallowed at the sudden loss of space between you, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Y–yeah, yeah. That’s perfect.” His lashes fanned out across his cheeks as he blinked you into focus, pupils blown wide from the weed, the summer heat and you. “Uh–right. I’m gonna take a hit and then pass it to you.”

Your brain raced to catch up, tangled in the way Steve’s legs felt pressed into yours, the way his lips pouted perfectly as he mimed taking a drag from the joint, until it snagged on his words.

Pass it to you.

“Pass it to me?”

“Yeah. Like. Well, you know I’ll just lean forward and uhm–well, I’ll pass the smoke–er–blow it into your mouth.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed, pink and warm as it finally occurred to him that he was basically asking to kiss you, and you gave him a little grin. The King of Hawkins all but gone, leaving behind this sweet and absolutely endearing as hell version of Steve Harrington.

“Okay,” you said simply and his lips parted into a pretty little ‘o’.

“Okay?” he repeated and when you nodded in agreement his mouth tugged up into a lopsided smile of his own. “Okay, yeah! Uh, so I’ll take a hit and…you know,” he waved his hand around in the air as if that finished the thought for him sufficiently enough, and put the joint to his lips to pull in a breath.

His cheeks hollowed out again and your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings against your ribcage as he leaned forward, brows lifting in question, you ready? And you hinged at your waist, tilted your head ever so slightly so that when he pressed his lips to yours they fit together like two sides of a locket.

Your eyes closed when the soft plush of his lips met yours, opening just enough to let him fill you with smoke and it was hazy and thick. Like floating just under the surface of the water, watching the world swim by in ripples, something out of a dream and Steve, Steve, Steve.

When he pulled away for you blow the hit off into the wind, he was watching you with a look of awe on his face. Reverent in the presence of something so beautiful – how were you real? Your cheeks warmed to match his, pink from the way the little voice inside your head was screaming at you to do it again, and you laughed softly.

“Oh my God,” you mumbled under your breath and he chanced a small grin.

“What? Was it good? Bad? Weird?” he fumbled, an attempt at levity, and it made you laugh more easily this time, but the longer you looked at him the louder the voice grew until you couldn’t hear anything over the sound of you aching for the feeling of him.

“Again, please,” came out quietly, Steve's smile fading with your sincerity as you leaned forward and tentatively pressed your hands against his thighs to steady yourself.

He wished he could run your voice on a loop, those two words pouring into him, filling him up and spilling over at the edges.

Again, please.

Again, please.

Again, please.

“Again,” he echoed softly.

You nodded and then slowly leaned in to meet him in the gap first, lifting one hand from his thigh to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and pulling him into you, making him groan. The steady rush of water drowned out by the way his fingers pressed into the plush of your hips, pulling you into his lap, drenched in liquid gold as the sun beat down on you, summer and surrender, soft and steady and

Steve.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[moongreenlight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who despite his better judgement lets Soap talk him into picking up a girl for the night.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Apparently Soap knows a guy who knows a guy in the area they’re deployed. They’d been staying at some shithole inn in France for weeks. Driving into the city to stake out some mark day in and day out. Tedious, mind-numbing work. Sitting at cafes and on patios at pubs people watching. Looking for anyone that may or may not match the vague description that had been provided by some mole on the other side.

Simon could sit still and shut up. Johnny was a separate issue. He could dial in for a few hours at a time, but then he’d start to slip. Bored and antsy, he’d try and strike up conversation. Inevitably returning to what must have been his favorite topic, or the one thing plaguing his mind the most. He’s horny. Fucking hell, is he horny.

Bitching and whining about not being able to get any play here because he doesn’t speak a lick of French and even when he tries it comes out so muddied that nobody takes him seriously. And that the inn they’re set up at is years away from town. Paints him out to be a serial killer.

Simon would grind his teeth and endure yet another one-sided talk about how bored Johnny had been getting of his hand. Even the left one wasn’t doing the trick anymore. He’d resorted to calling in some favors he was apparently owed to get the help of some girls in his evenings off.

“Jesus. Lookit the legs on her.”

Johnny had almost fallen out of his chair swiveling his entire body to watch some girl in a short skirt and a long trench coat stride past their spot outside of a cafe.

“Mhm.”

Simon was in a better spot to watch her pass. Eyeing her frame from over the rim of his steaming mug of tea. Fucking dreadful day. Drizzling rain. Bordering on sleet because of how miserable the weather was. Cloudy with a breeze that felt bitterly cold even through his coat. Shit tea, too. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander.

Not like they’d made any progress. Not like they could make any progress being staked out on a side street with no traffic whatsoever. The girl had been the only person other than their server that they’d seen come by in the last half hour. And sure, she had good legs. Better than their server’s at least. Some cranky older woman who’d ignored his attempts to order in French and looked mugged off that she had to deal with them at all, especially sat outside in this weather.

“Hell’s bells. Almost forgot you had a brain in there somewhere.”

Johnny, of course, couldn’t resist making a dig.

“Don’t get carried away.”

Simon grunted.

“Naw. C’mon, L.T. You like girls? They’ve got girls.”

Should have predicted that he was going to run wild with this.

“M’warnin’ you.”

“Loads of girls. Fuckin’ customizable. Send you a preference sheet and everything. Real professional operation.”

Johnny snickered into his paper coffee cup. Given to him along with a nasty look when he’d fidgeted with the ceramic mug he’d first had a bit too much and sent it smashing into the pavement.

Simon wasn’t one to be jerked around cock-first like Johnny, but Jesus. He was wearing thin. Maybe the isolation was getting to him. Maybe a seed had been planted somewhere deep in his mind from Johnny’s moaning. Not to mention, it was impossible to get it up watching French cable porn on a twin bed. He was backed-up and pissed off with the work. And with no end in sight, it could push a man to do strange things.

He shifted his hips forward in his seat, taking a long drink of his tea as he scanned the empty street for the umteenth time.

“Haven’t used up all your favors?”

You would have thought he’d just backhanded Johnny the way his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Gie’s a break.”

“Jus’ a question.”

Simon shrugged, sighing like he was already regretting asking. He was.

“Don’t work me up over nothin’, L.T.”

Johnny grinned, waggling his brows and leaning his forearms onto the table. Now completely distracted from the task at hand.

“Johnny.”

“Sure I could work somethin’ out. Only ‘cause I’m feelin’ generous. Ken yer a’right owing me a favor?”

Simon snorted.

“Sure I can manage.”

Johnny’s eyes were glinting something awful. More lively than he’d been in days. Practically laying over the table and kicking his feet. Thrilled to finally have the means to something Simon wanted.

“We’ll see about that’.”

Conversation moved on. Dragged back to the mission with instruction to change location. They spent a full ten hours out in the rain and the cold and the grey for absolutely no payout. Again. Still at square goddamn one. It was arguably worse than combat. Least on a real mission he’d get some release.

Johnny had stepped away in the early evening to make a call. Just before they were tapped out by Price and Gaz. Likely cashing in his favors owed, because he came back with a smug smile and two pints. Saying something about how Simon needed to quit taking himself so seriously. All work and no play or some stupid shit to that tune. Made a comment in passing on their drive back to the inn about how he should get his quarters decent by nine.

Honestly, Simon wasn’t expecting much. It was a bit of a ridiculous concept to him to begin with. He’d regretted saying anything straight after the words had left his mouth. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to entertain some two-bit whore, even if she just served to curb his boredom. He never sought out things like this. Never felt the need. He wasn’t like Johnny or Gaz where he had to sneak off during missions for a wank or a quick fuck when time allowed. Not like Price where he’d seek a willing nurse or secretary to grope or bend over his desk on a day off. Sure, he’d take the opportunity if it arose, but he was always more focused on the job while he was at work rather than chasing his next high.

And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken anyone home. Fucked into his hand as much was necessary to keep everything operational. Knew when it was time when he started lashing out on a hairpin trigger. Got lazy on missions. Lost one too many sparring matches during training because he couldn’t focus.

So when nine came and went, he just found himself agitated that he’d requested the woman at the front desk change the sheets on his bed again so late. Ducking out to the balcony for a cigarette when she came in and slipping her a few euros on her way out despite the way her lip curled distastefully. Fucking frogs.

He was sat on the armchair in the corner of his room. Halfway paying attention to whatever channel was on the TV across from him and nursing a tumbler of shit whiskey he’d picked up from the shops their first night in. Swapped his mission clothes for a black tee shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Tugging his balaclava over his face out of pure habit. Strictly instructed not to wear it out for the sake of keeping a low profile. Though he wasn’t sure how much good that did. He stood out from the crowd with his scars and crooked nose and tattoos without the covering. Whatever. Wardrobe wasn’t his job for a reason he supposed.

The sharp knock on his door grated heavily on his last nerve. Eliciting a low growl, but no movement to answer. It was half ten at this point. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Probably just another group of teenagers lost on their way to a friend’s room.

Another knock, and this time it didn’t stop. A muffled giggle through the door.

“Jesus Christ.”

He grumbled, shoving up and striding over to the door. Jerking the door open and using his hulking frame to cover the small opening he allowed.

Johnny’s fist nearly collided with Simon’s jaw. Distracted by the two girls stood behind him in the hall, giggling at him and batting their lashes. He was grinning like a goddamned devil. Chest puffed-out, shoulders rolled back. Entirely too comfortable.

Simon cocked a brow, giving the group a scornful once-over.

“Aye, L.T.! I come bearing gifts.”

Simon’s brow shot up further, eyes flicking from his friend to each of the girls behind him. Johnny immediately caught on to his confusion and barked a laugh, slinging his arm around the shoulder of the girl on the left. She sunk comfortably into position, leaning into him and giggling like it had been rehearsed.

She was pretty. Both of the girls were. The one tucked under Johnny’s arm had long auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. Bright green eyes. Great smile. Perfectly groomed. Both of them covered conservatively by long coats to protect from the rain that had gradually started to come down harder and colder through the day. Hard to tell they were hooking by looking at them.

They seemed more familiar with Johnny than what Simon could assume was normal. It made his stomach turn if he thought too much into it, so he didn’t. Instead he side stepped, allowing the second girl barely enough room to slip through the door, and jerked his head for her to move.

“S’pose I know better than to expect a thank you.”

Johnny grinned, entirely unbothered by Simon’s glare that was boring through his skull. Arm already wandering down the auburn haired girl’s back at an alarming speed.

“Not as dim as you look, Sargent.”

Simon sighed, snapping the door shut.

“You’re late.”

He said flatly before he’d even finished locking the door. Turning to face the girl who’d already made herself comfortable on the edge of his bed. Leaned back on her hands, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Throwing off your schedule, am I?”

You said, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm. This made Simon recoil slightly. He’d been expecting some trashy, mildly-disgusting woman to come stumbling through the door when Johnny had mentioned he was cashing in favors. Not you. Not by a long shot. You looked, for lack of a better word, spoiled. Expensive. Perfectly styled, glossy hair. A tasteful amount of makeup. Not so much that it marred your features, but enough to make you nearly unapproachably attractive. And relatively covered-up. Expensive looking fur-trimmed coat falling just above your ankle.

Noticeable lack of a French accent. And you weren’t cowering in his presence, which suggested that you’d dealt with worse than him. A thought that sent something strange down his spine. Jealousy maybe? Anger? Sympathy? He wasn’t in the mood to dig further into that.

He crossed the room, lowering himself back into the armchair he’d been stationed in before his night was interrupted.

“You’re an hour and a half late.”

His tone was clipped. His eyes cold and hard. Fixed directly on you in an almost invasive kind of eye-contact. He jerked up his balaclava to his nose to take a deep drink from his glass. Studying you from over the rim. Killing the contents and setting it back on the side table with a soft thud.

You pursed your lips for a fraction of a second, standing from the corner of the bed and pacing across the small room to stand in front of him. Threatening to encroach on his personal space. Smiling tightly in a way that seemed to come with a practiced nonchalance. That same feeling settled in the center of his stomach.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I got caught up.”

Your soft, sweet tone did nothing to tame his irritation.

“They couldn’t even send a professional?”

He shot back tersely, folding his arms over his chest. You cocked your head slightly to the side. A fraction of genuine humor peeking through your smile.

“Plenty professional.”

You shrugged, letting the comment roll off of you. Water off a duck’s back. It irritated Simon to no end and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Trying to settle his mind by watching the way your perfectly manicured fingers began to work on slowly undoing the buttons of your coat with careful attention.

He snorted, tugging his balaclava back down over his jaw.

“That your thing, then?”

You gestured to his face covering. Shrugging off your coat to reveal a fucking scrap of a dress. Much more in-line with what he’d imagined a hooker to wear. A tiny, black, strapless thing that hugged your curves like it had been sewn directly onto you. Black lace garter pulled high on your thigh. Knee-height black boots that must have made you four inches taller than you were.

He cocked a brow, tapping a finger on the arm of his chair.

“Somethin’ like that.”

You cracked a true smile at that. Folding your coat neatly in your arms before setting it on the beat-up dresser to his right. Returning attentively to your spot in front of him.

He stiffened. Already perfect posture becoming rigid to the point of snapping. Keeping his hands firmly planted on either arm of the chair. Narrowing his eyes as he looked over your face in much closer detail.

“It’s late.”

Was all he managed. Voice rough as ever.

“And?”

You tilted your head like a confused dog.

“And you were an hour and a half late. It’s late.”

He shot back dryly. Nails digging into the chair.

“Let me make it up to you.“

You sank to your knees just between his legs surprisingly gracefully given how tight your dress was. Falling delicately onto the disgusting carpet. Faded and torn and fraying. Scratching at your bare knees. Didn’t even pull a face. Conditioned to understand that this was normal. Trained to grin and bear it. Another stone added to the weight anchoring him to his seat.

It was horribly cliche. Such a painfully tacky line, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth; so he shifted his hips forward and allowed your slender fingers to dance up his thighs and dip under the waistband of his sweatpants. Aided you in tugging them down to his ankles. Grit his teeth together when you began palming him through his underwear. Trying not to catch your eyes that were fixed up on him. Trying to push the nagging voice in the back of his mind away. Reminding him of just how dirty this was. Made him feel fucking pathetic. Calling in the aid of a hooker like he couldn’t bed a girl himself.

And the worst part. The part that brought up the most self-loathing; was how fucking fast the blood was racing to his cock under your touch. How much he truly enjoyed seeing you knelt down and blinking up at him with a look that could have been confused for adoration. Maybe you were a professional.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose when you finally sprung his aching cock free from his boxers. Forcing his head back to avoid your gaze. Pressing it hard against the wall to the point of giving himself a headache. Scarring the soft wood of the chair’s arms with his nails when you licked a hot stripe from his base to the tip.

All of his guilt and knotted up emotions seemed to dissolve themselves at least partially when you wrapped your lips around him. He’d almost forgotten just how warm a mouth was. Infinitely better than his hand. Jesus, was it.

He kept his hands to himself. Not needing to guide you like he had so many others. Tried to let himself relax under the feeling of your hand gripping his base and your mouth working his tip. And he nearly did get swept away when you removed your hand and tried to force his stiff cock to the back of your throat. Allowing you to work at choking and gagging around him for longer than was probably polite. But again, he just found himself irritated. Edging himself out of pure goddamn accident because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself from his mind.

He couldn’t understand why you were such a sticking point to him. He’d had one night stands before. Hell, that’s all he’d had. Never cared much about the quality or condition or history of the girls he slept with. Maybe he had a savior complex he was too stubborn to admit to. Maybe his mind had been so warped and addled over the years that he formed some kind of baseless connection with you for God knew what reason. He just couldn’t fucking stop thinking about you.

He would have liked to. Would have liked to screw his eyes shut and focus on how good you felt wrapped around him. Mouth hot and wet. Wanted to focus on the ecstasy of your throat struggling to fit him. Listen to your soft, choked whines. Let himself pretend you were no different to the others he’d bedded before, but it was fruitless. He made a low sound, a growl that lodged itself somewhere in his chest, before taking your jaw in his hand and pulling you off of him. Cock still throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

“You need to go.”

He made the mistake of glancing down. Saw the way your perfect makeup had begun smearing around your eyes and down your cheeks just barely. Big eyes rimmed with tears. Nose running, chin and lips glistening. Slick from your own spit. It nearly pushed him over the edge, but he knew inevitably he was prolonging his own torture.

“What?”

Your voice was hoarse because of how much strain your throat had been under. Softer than it had been. Less confident. You looked almost hurt. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and sniffing softly. Jaw held fixed in his hand.

“You need to go.”

He repeated, firmer this time. Sucking his teeth. Trying to ignore the way your gentle panting cooled the shining trails of spit running down his shaft and sent a chill up his spine.

Your face twisted in confusion, mouth falling open. Leaning back on your haunches to look him over like he’d suddenly grown another head.

“Is it not good?”

He groaned softly, finally letting go of your head. Not realizing just how much effort it had taken for him to pull you off until he saw the small red marks decorating the delicate skin of your jaw.

“S’fine.”

“Fine?”

You looked properly offended. A little confused. Like this had never happened before- and it probably hadn’t. Of course he’d be the one to stain your perfect record. Of course he’d be the one to warp your pretty face like that. Drove him up the fucking wall.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Now he was backed-up, pissed off, and you wouldn’t leave as easily as he would’ve liked. If he was lucky, he’d still have half a hard-on by the time he got you out the door. Maybe coax out a less than satisfying orgasm that would at least put him to sleep.

“Gave myself lockjaw for fine?”

You spoke again, those same nimble fingers now gently massaging the hinge of your jaw. He tried to avoid looking at the way your dress bunched around your hips and revealed your panties. Black lace that matched the garter on your thigh.

“It’s late.”

He huffed a sigh. Leaning down to fumble in his sweatpants pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. Needing anything else to focus on. It brought him nearly nose to nose with you. Not realizing until he flicked his eyes up. And you didn’t recoil. Sat there half glaring at him, the tip of your nose almost brushing his through the balaclava. You were pretty even this close. Probably more so.

“You’ve said.”

You shot back cooly, brows knit together.

“Have I?”

He pulled back up, hooking his mask up over his nose once more and sticking the cigarette between his teeth.

“Few times.”

You looked wholly unamused. He flicked his lighter open. Lighting the tip and taking a deep drag.

“Meant it a few times.”

He shrugged, speaking through his exhale. Turning his chin up and away from you so the curling smoke didn’t wash over you.

You snorted, pushing up to your feet, putting your hands on your hips and giving him a once-over.

“You’re seriously asking me to leave?”

His teeth sunk into the butt of the cigarette just a fraction too hard. He felt the crunch of the filter bending under the force.

“S’not you, it’s me.”

He offered. A wisp of a dry smile tugging momentarily at the corner of his lips. This earned another smile from you. He caught it even through the way you chewed the inside of your cheek.

“You married?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He almost choked on the cloud of smoke he’d been drawing in.

“No.”

His voice was harsh. Like a string pulled taught to the point of snapping.

“So what is it? You don’t like me?”

You shifted your weight a bit, but he could tell it wasn’t because you were uncomfortable. You still held yourself confidently. Shoulders rolled back, posture straight but not stiff.

“Bloody hell.”

He groaned, rubbing his brow.

“Is that it, then?”

You prodded further.

“No.”

You seemed thoroughly dissatisfied with his answers. But he didn’t know what else he could say. You seemed fine. Pretty girl. Got him closer to an orgasm than he’d come in weeks. He just couldn’t get over the fact that you were hired out to do this. Made him feel too dirty. That and he’d already looked too far into the situation. You seemed like you’d been doing this longer than anyone should have to. Strangely enough he felt some obligation to protect you. Wanted to pull you away from whatever situation that had pushed you to this.

“So what’s the hang up?”

You huffed a sigh.

“Don’t usually do this.”

He grunted out, resigning to the fact that he’d have to drink himself to sleep at this point. Leaning down to jerk his sweatpants back up his legs.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You snarked back. He snorted a humorless chuckle from around the cigarette.

“Nothin’ against you.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You shook your head, a small smile curving your mouth. A mix of confusion and amusement. Like you couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“I’m not in the business of I.O.U’s.”

You said, looking over your shoulder while you walked over to grab your coat from the dresser.

“S’at so?”

He ashed his cigarette into his empty glass. Trying not to snort when you flashed him a sour look.

“You’re sure? I’m supposed to be here all night.”

You were already fastening the buttons on your coat. Glancing past him to the window on the back wall of the small room. The curtains were drawn, but through the backlight of the street lamps outside you could see rain streaking the glass.

“Mhm”

He hummed his answer. Silently grateful that you were finally moving toward leaving. Least he’d be able to get a few hours of shut eye before having to go back out tomorrow. Hopefully sleep off the guilt and the slightly sick feeling that’d settled itself over him.

You left a few minutes later. After making absolutely certain he was sure. Then it was ‘cheers’ and he was dead bolting the door. He got a fresh glass and downed the rest of the bottle of whiskey. Not enough to even get him tipsy, but enough to lull him into a dreamless sleep for the few hours he allowed himself.

He should have been expecting that Johnny would give him a fucking earful in the days following. You must’ve said something to the auburn haired girl and it got around. Wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him shit like he was getting paid to do it. Couldn’t believe that he’d pass up an opportunity like that.

They got shipped back to base about a week later. Simon was thankful for the short break. Slowly working on forgetting the entire mission. The whole ordeal with you. Focused his efforts on training and filling out the endless towers of paperwork that’d gathered on the edge of his desk in his absence.

And then it was months later. And he’d made good progress on forgetting France. Mission was a bust. Wasted time and money and effort for no payout. Turns out their mark had been in Germany the entire time. Tipped off that they were on the lookout for him. Johnny slowly stopped his teasing. Only occasionally bringing it up when Simon dismissed the efforts of an overly eager private. Things went back to normal.

After getting intel on a new assignment, Price had urged the boys to get together at some pub by base for drinks on him. Chat about next steps and do some more of the team bonding he was so keen on. Simon grudgingly obliged. The bar was full of people seeing as it was a Friday, so he was content people-watching and grunting a few words when prompted. Decent way to kill a few hours.

He’d excused himself to go outside for a smoke, pushing through the crowd until he finally reached the side alley next to the pub. Taking a few long moments to work his way through a cigarette and let his head stop pounding from the noise of the inside. He wasn’t focused on anything in particular, at least not until he heard some shouting on the street.

He furrowed his brow slightly, pushing off the brick he’d been leaned against and sidling out to see what was going on. Not usually interested in the commotion, but moving out of some deep-rooted obligation to supervise a situation.

He saw a car with dark tinted windows rolling slowly down the road. The driver leaning half-out his window and shouting something over to a girl who was walking by herself down the sidewalk. Her back was to Simon, but he could tell by how stiff she was that this wasn’t a friendly exchange.

He groaned under his breath, taking a moment to debate on if he should get involved before flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his heel. Starting down the street toward the girl.

It didn’t take him long to close the distance between them. The girl was walking slowly, he could see the way her head was on a swivel, searching for an escape. The driver of the car was shouting something crass at her and she was making a point of not engaging.

“Alright?”

He called out through the dim street, rolling his shoulders back and tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. Puffing out his chest slightly in case his sheer size alone wasn’t enough to impress.

The driver faltered slightly, the girl did not stop to look back.

“Yeah, mate. Cheers.”

The man called back, trying to sound casual. Simon grunted and nodded, staying as friendly as he could. Moving a little closer to the curb to shield the girl from view. Thankfully, this was all the interaction the driver seemed to need to get the hint. Pulling off without much more prompting.

The girl’s posture immediately relaxed. Shoulders dropped, slowing her gait to a stop.

“Thanks. I owe you-“

Her voice cut off like someone had pressed mute when she turned to face Simon. He was stunned. Fucking shocked to see your face. This had to be some cruel trick played on him by the universe.

You looked great. Better than you had in France- if that was even possible. Even with the way your face paled, he could tell. Your eyes were brighter. Shining at him like headlights. He would have been able to convince himself he was hallucinating if you hadn’t had that same look of recognition painted over your face.

“Thought you weren’t in the business of I.O.U’s.”

He broke the silence after a few long moments. Both of you stood rooted to the pavement mere yards apart. Your breathless laugh broke the tension like a stone dropped in the middle of a stilled lake.

“I wasn’t.”

He nodded sharply.

“And now?”

You smiled. Brighter than you had before.

“I could be persuaded.”

He scoffed.

“S’at so?”