#organic natural mouth wash

[coyotejone-s]

i love him. shrimple as that.

[zaynesparadise]

∯ COCKOLOGY 101: ZAYNE & CALEB !

🫧✱ ݁ ˖ | a simple analysis about papi 1 & papi 2’s schlongs ♡ (i’m giving u full hex colours & measurements.)

pairing. — MDNI (17+) fem!reader x 𝐜 & 𝐳 (separate) warnings. dick measurements, overstimulation, mentions of shaving, mentions of porn, big cock caleb & big cock zayne, omg idk how to put the warnings for this one wc. 1.3k a,n. this is just for fun & obv on the unrealistic side don’t take this seriously. cuz i was laughing the whole time making this anywho enjoy !!!! <3

Ꮺ ZAYNE. firm believer that dr.zayne is on the longer side than the thicker one, don’t get me wrong i am no way calling this man’s dick skinny. it’s very thick but it is for sure hitting ur cervix no matter how unrealistic this sounds. his tip is a solid #e3b1b8 more on the pinkish side cuz have u seen this man’s nipples. they’re so PINK & he’s so paleish pink overall, rest of his cock is #edb8a8 still on the very pale side, transition colour from tip - rest of his inches is #e6a1a1 :3 his mouth-watering 8.2 inches (6 inches soft cuz i said so) (3.2 inches delicious girth wise) has the slightest, almost unnoticeable tilt to the right side that makes ur eyes cross

while we’re on the topic, zayne def shaves. we’ve seen his razor bumps, some days when his skin is a bit more sensitive he just does a simple trim in the shower and calls it a day, one of my hcs is that this man smells good. like you’ll never catch this man smelling off or even bad in your entire life, he takes his hygiene so seriously so i know he smells good everywhere. good quality cotton boxers, ball deodorant when he has longer shifts in the hospital, glycolic acid in every crack and crevice, really musky & light on the nose cologne paired with a nicely scented lotion, over all incredible hygiene.

daily cups of pineapple juice. firm believer that zayne has a lil morning routine ritual where he probably eats a spoonful of sea moss, takes his needed supplements & green juice so why not throw in a cup of fresh & organic pineapple juice to his routine? this man smells and tastes divine. and he knows it, he’s very proud of it and takes his sacred routine very seriously.

side notes: the way that he cums is sometimes sudden to him, zayne is very sensitive so when he’s wrapped around your walls that are continuously milking him he instantly gets lost in euphoria and doesn’t even realise how quick his climax is building up, sometimes he does have the focus to warn you but most times his head is in the clouds and he’s practically just babbling and rutting his hips unconsciously.

cums in warm, filling ropes of milky, almost watery cum. like i said, he takes great care of himself that paired with his obsession with your sweet cunt devouring his cock he cums so for so long, his orgasms are long lasting and intense. by the time the aftershocks of his high wash down his body he’s all over you again, kissing nibbling and licking every part of you that he can :(

not a big fan of overstimulation, but since you are he can’t deny you the fun at all. thing is, like i mentioned before he’s very sensitive, it’s ridiculously easy to make him overstimulated. a simple “you can give me one more, can’t you?” with a wink when you’re riding him is really all it takes. he turns into literal putty in your hands. thigh muscles flexing and sweat shimmering on his abs when he fills you up over and over again just because his pretty girl asked him to <3

his cock when overstimulated turns so red, his natural shade being a slight off pink colour that gets darker when he’s hard and fully crimson when you’re overstimulating him. a few slight, faint veins begin appearing around his base that you love to run your tongue all over just to feel him shiver under your touch, he loves it just as much as you love it.

in conclusion: pretty shaved & regularly trimmed balls, paleish pink 8.2 inches, lemon juice mixed with olive oil shots king and a sucker for pleasing his pretty gf <3

𖧷 CALEB. this man right here should be awarded for not having back pain bcs of the way he’s packing. i am a caleb horse cock truther ✋ 7.2 inches length wise but 4.5 inches girth wise this man is MASSIVE humongous gigantic BIG. he’s really big. (BIG CALEB!) thing is .. i’m also a believer in somewhat inexperienced caleb. he might’ve had a lil thing here and there but it never got serious or anything so he really doesn’t know how fucking huge he is.

(probably found out when he and gideon saw each other naked for the first time and he noticed the way gideon’s eyes were practically about to fall out of their sockets) now don’t get him wrong he’s watched porn and whenever he’s clicked on the “massive cock destroys—“ u get the gist, the dick in question always looked.. average in his eyes? it looked closer in length to his, he might’ve been longer even but that was considered to be massive? #BlessedButDoesntKnowIt #HeHasAWeaponOfMassDestructionAndIsntAware

he never really stressed himself about it, so quick side notes: tip colour #d9a593 more on the tanned side in comparison to zayne but it’s still so pretty rest of his cock is #ba8270 with a slight transition shade of #d99b82, regularly keeps himself trimmed but isn’t too serious or anxious about it, def believe that it’s very, very like extremely veiny. you’ve seen the veins around this man’s abdomen. has so many faint veins decorating his underside, and when i tell u that this man’s cock literally cannot stand upwards fully when he’s erect because it’s so fucking heavy i mean it.

i see caleb to be blessed with incredible genetics, good & decent hygiene but he’s not the type to really eat a spoonful of sea moss or coconut cult in the morning, he’s more like the kind of guy that makes himself green tea while blasting bruno mars at six am in his kitchen tbh. that being said he definitely tries his hardest to take care of himself by going to the gym and drinking water often so he tastes nice wouldn’t say that he’s not on the salty side bcs he for sure is, but it’s still very delicious.

going back to the good genetics & gym rat side; he has his cheat days (that sometimes might extend longer than intended, let a man be lazy for once he deserves it) but even when he stuffs his (godly) body with junk food or stuff that don’t really align with what he usually nourishes his body, it’s still literally perfect. his genetics come into play and it’s like he just had a green goddess salad with a side of cranberry juice, you’re definitely envious of his metabolism.

side notes: the way he cums depends on how he’s been fucking you, if it’s a quickie then it’s going to be an eye rolling orgasm for him. cums frequently one second he’s filling you up with long, thick like heavy ropes of glistening cum the next he’s still hard and fucking his cum deeper into you, on the contrary if he’s taking his time with pounding you against the bed, then he’s going to have a literal toe curling and back arching orgasm. he loves to cum deep inside of your fluttering walls, warm breaths fanning your ear as he keeps filling you up from behind, he cums for so so long if you pressed on your lower stomach you’d feel the way he’s stuffing you full.

is he ready for overstimulation? real question is, is overstimulation ready for him? a literal beast. this man fears nothing and is a freak. overstimulation should actually fear him. his gym obsession always comes in handy when it comes for inhumane stamina, he doesn’t mind fucking both of you dumb till he’s shooting blanks. whimpering, babbling, drooling till he can’t even speak coherent sentences and just mouths at whatever part of you he can reach. doesn’t care if his dick practically looks purple and feels like it’s about to fall off— if he’s overstimulating you both, he’s going to do it till you’re both passed out on his messy mattress.

in conclusion: caleb’s packing in the front and the back (papa packing never lacking), average monster cock, decent hygiene, salty addictive cum 🙂‍↕️

♥︎ : litr wrote this while listening to kitty kat by meg & thatpower by will.i.am so idek + this unserious drabble is dedicated to my caleb big cock believer & the reason why this acc opened in the first place: nia bunny :3 ♡

[mariasont]

SMILING LIKE A FOOL - A.H

a/n: heyyyy home slices it's me back from the dead! finals are killing me, and this was my procrastination piece. needed to write about my bombshell baby! but surprise she's the one getting flustered this time! gasp!

(for those of you who saw me spell write like right NO YOU DIDNT!!!)

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: um none i think idk friends its been too long since i've done this

wc: 1.8k

The knock was more a formality as you nudged the door open with your hip, juggling a stack of neatly organized files and a coffee cup with a pink heart sticker on the lid (discreet enough that only Hotch should see). Your gaze naturally gravitated to Hotch first, as it often did, lingering just a moment longer than necessary as you offered him a subtle wink. He cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting his tie as he muttered something inaudible under his breath, his hand half-covering his mouth, though the slight color rising to his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you.

"Hi, good morning!"

You rounded the table, a sway in your step as you approached Hotch's chair. Setting the stack of items in front of him, you leaned in--closer than strictly necessary--your fingertips brushing his shoulder lightly. Your hair, delicately scented with roses, grazed his jawline as you shifted. His posture stiffened, his expression unreadable, though you caught the subtle flare of his nostrils as he inhaled sharply. 

"Sorry for interrupting," you said with a sweet smile that didn't match the glint in your eyes.

You weren't sorry, and the way Hotch's lips pressed into a thin line told you he saw right through the fib.  When he leaned back, almost imperceptibly into your space, his shoulder brushed against your stomach. His muttered thank you was low and gruff, and it almost felt like an admission of defeat. You smirked, basking in the victory of knowing how effortless you could unravel the infamous Aaron Hotchner with just a touch and a perfectly polished smile.

You smiled warmly at the team before straightening, your perfectly styled hair bouncing as you rolled up the sleeves of your sparkly sweater. The conference room was always too warm, and today was no exception. 

"Oh honey, you could never interrupt." Garcia was the first to butt in, followed by a few other sounds of agreement.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Well, hey there, good looking." It was then that Morgan stepped into the room. His eyes sparkled as they landed on you, smile growing wider as he crossed the room. Without missing a beat, he slung an arm over your shoulder like it was second nature. "You feeling better?"

The past week had been a miserable blur of you twisting into every position imaginable to appease a stomachache that refused to budge. The first morning had been the worst--waking up suddenly, barely making it to the bathroom, and sparing Aaron's freshly washed sheets from catastrophe. For a brief, terrifying moment, your mind had spiraled to the possibility of pregnancy. But the nine-dollar test from Rite Aid had quickly put that fear to rest.

Before you could respond, Hotch cut in, "I told her she need to take more time off."

You gave him an exaggerated huff, placing a hand over your heart. "I'm totally fine, pinky promise."

Spencer, frowning slightly, chimed in, "When I asked for more time off to complete my latest paper on cognitive psychology, I had to justify every hour in writing."

Hotch ignored Spencer's grumble of favoritism (that was definitely true), clearly uninterested in entertaining the complaint. His gaze fixed squarely on you, his eyebrow raising as if to say, Go ahead, lie to me.

You edged closer, letting your smile grow sugary sweet. "Oh, don't worry about me, boss man! I have this weird ability to recover from sicknesses super quickly, like magic."

The blatant lie hung between you, and you could see in his eyes that he wasn't buying a word of it. That was part of the fun, honestly. He knew better; after all, he'd been there every step of the way through your so-called recovery. But still, his gaze lingered on you, jaw tightening as he swallowed back his words. He knew that saying too much would tip the scales, and he wasn't about to risk exposing what was to stay hidden. 

In truth, you weren't exactly quick to bounce back from illness--autoimmune disease problems and all--but you didn't mind too much. Not when it meant you got the full Hotch Care Package. You savored the attention and coddling. He held your hair, made you soup, rubbed your feet--all without a single complaint. The man was practically a saint, and honestly, you were tempted to milk it just a little bit longer.

"Hotch can say what he wants, but the rest of us are just glad to have you back, princess." Morgan released your shoulder with a tight squeeze before nodding toward the others. "Hendrick found something on the Anderson case in the lab, wants us to come check it out."

You lingered by the table, watching them file out one by one, leaving behind a trail of disorganized files and lukewarm coffee in their wake. Aaron stayed behind, turning his chair toward you as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. Once the coast was clear, you hopped up on the table, swinging your legs slightly.

You flashed him a smile, pressing your palms onto the table and leaning in just a little, coking your head to the side as if studying him like a puzzle. He was watching you, of course--he always was. His lips twitched in that way you loved, forming the smallest smile, something that was becoming more and more common these days (which you proudly took credit for).

With a dramatic sigh that was probably a little over the top, you swung your legs around and plopped your high-heeled feet right in his lap.

"You know, Mr. Hotchner," you began, batting your lashes like it was second nature, "skipping the goodbye kiss this morning almost made me forget how much I really love your adorably grumpy face. Are you willing to have that on your conscience?"

Aaron let out a long sigh, gently easing your feet out of his lap, leaving them to swing idly. "You are going to get me in trouble."

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, the motion making his gaze linger on your tits before quickly returning to your face. "Well, you're already in trouble with someone."

He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be clueless. "And who might that be?"

You blinked innocently, not aware that it was a rhetorical question. "With me, duh!"

Hotch stood, closing the small space between you, and just like that, your pulse was racing like you were in high school all over again. How did he still have this effect on you? 

"Duh." He was teasing you now. You tried to glare at him, but it wasn't convincing--not with the way you were fighting the urge to grin like an idiot.

"So, are you going to make it up to me, or do I need to find someone else to keep my bed warm tonight?"

You arched a perfectly shaped brow, watching with barely concealed glee as Aaron's jaw tightened and his gaze darkened. He opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but you smirked and pushed further.

"Well, I'm sure Spencer or Morgan would be happy to—,"

You didn't even get to finish before his lips slammed into yours, silencing you with a kiss that made your heart flutter, and your mind go blank--forgetting every word you just said. The kiss was firm, yet urgent, as if he was trying to prove a point. You melted without hesitation, a giggle bubbling from your chest as your arms looped around his neck. His hands steadied you at your waist, and he pulled back, his expression had softened in that way that made him look ten years younger.

Still smiling, you pinched his side. "Mr. Hotchner! We're at work! Tsk tsk!"

Aaron exhaled a deep breath, pressing a fleeting kiss to your cheek. "I'll see you at home."

He straightened up and turned towards the door. You admired the view for just a moment, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling--who gave him the right to look that hot while walking away? Determined not to be left behind, you quickly clattered after him, heels clicking (and probably echoing obnoxiously) across the floor.

"Also, can we order Chinese tonight?" You called out, pitching your voice a little louder as Aaron's annoyingly long strides widened the gap between you. 

Aaron response was a familiar, low grunt--one of the many unspoken agreements in your relationship that you'd grown to understand. Translation? Yes, dear.

"Oh, wait!" you blurted out, fumbling with your phone as you tried to type out your thoughts before they disappeared like soap bubbles. "And face masks! Can we do face masks? And--wait, wait, wait--The Holiday! Can we watch The Holiday?" 

You were juggling your phone, purse, and wild ideas all at once, scribbling your mental to-do list into your Notes app with one hand while the other flailed in an effort to keep balance. Aaron, still unbothered and impossibly composed, moved ahead like some well-dressed gazelle.

"Wait! I just had another idea--"

Aaron came to abrupt stop. You let out a squeak as you barely avoided plowing straight into his back, his forearm shooting out to steady you just in time. 

"Can we table this conversation for later?" he asked, that stoic voice doing absolutely nothing to hide his fondness for you.

You opened your mouth the protest that this was important, but he cut you off. "But yes--to all of the questions."

You gasped like you'd just won the lottery. "All of them? Even The Holiday?" You wiggled your eyebrows, grinning ear-to-ear. "I knew you loved that movie."

Aaron stopped you before you could say another word, his hand settling lightly on your arm as he leaned just a fraction closer. "No," he murmured, voice dropping low enough to send a shiver through you, "I just love you."

Your cheeks flared instantly, warmth blooming across your face as you blinked at him. "Oh."

Aaron watched you squirm for a moment, clearly enjoying your flustered state, far too smug for someone who'd just dropped the L word at work.

"I've told you I love you, haven't I?" He was teasing, knowing he had said it more times than you could count.

"Yeah, but you've never said it so... so loudly. And at work," you hissed, glancing over your shoulder as if someone might pop out of a closet and catch you.

He arched a brow. "That's loud?"

"For you it is!"

Aaron shook his head, laughing softly as he turned back towards the direction of the lab. "You're too easy to fluster. Go back to work before I decide to really embarrass you."

You were sure you had landed in a different dimension. You? Easy to fluster? 

"Ugh, you're the worst." You pressed your palms to your warm cheeks as you turned on your heel to head back to your desk.

But you were still grinning like an absolute fool the whole way.

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[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SPRING — NANAMI KENTO.

contents. domesticity with nanami after moving in together. aka brushing your teeth. aka staring at him shamelessly as he does mundane tasks. (me writing someone other than gojo or geto ???? whatttttt :O)

it doesn’t hit you that you and kento now live together until the the morning after the first night.

it’s spring. there are flowers you want to keep in your balcony sitting in your living room, the box labeled dishes is half empty from only what you took out for dinner, and you aren’t quite sure where your clothing box is because you forgot to label it. but kento is handsome next to you in the bathroom, shirtless as he brushes his teeth.

there are two sinks—one for you and one for him, but you opt for brushing your hip against his and sharing one. he doesn’t say anything, just scoots a little to the side and rinses his mouth as he makes room for you.

“please stop staring,” he mumbles tiredly, “it’s getting awkward.”

“you look handsome,” you pout, “i can’t admire you?”

“i’m brushing my teeth,” he deadpans.

“yes, a very handsome sight. i love seeing your care for dental hygiene.”

kento sighs, grabbing the small towel from the side and patting his face dry as you lean down and spit, rinsing your own mouth and plopping your toothbrush back in place. next to his.

and your face wash is beside his too, and so is your shampoo and body wash in the shower. you step to the side, bumping hips with him again as you grin—it’s ecstatic, the expression on your face.

“kento, i just realized something,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his jaw. it’s smooth, the feeling of his skin under your lips—you watched him shave earlier, sat on the counter and swung your legs as he carefully ran the razor along his skin.

“and what’s that?” he asks, patting your face with the towel, gently wiping away the droplets of water with extra care.

“we live together now—and i can watch you brush your teeth every day,” you grin.

“we shared a bed last night,” he raises a brow, “i’m sure you realized a bit before this that we now share a living space.”

wrong.

your home isn’t put together yet—you couldn’t find your pajamas last night, so you wear kento’s. the coffee machine still hasn’t been taken out and plugged in yet, and breakfast is currently limited to cereal and fruit that doesn’t need to be cut until the kitchen utensils have been organized. your couch hasn’t arrived yet, and your bed is currently just a mattress on the floor until the bed frame is delivered.

it doesn’t really dawn on you that you and kento are living together until you wake up with his chest under your cheek and his breath fanning against your forehead. sure, you and kento have spent nights at each other’s apartments—but that always results in one rising before the other to leave early and make up for the extra distance in the commute to work.

today, however, you and kento are home together. it’s spring—you can hear cicadas calling and see the buds blooming in the plants outside. there are flowers waiting to be potted in your balcony, and fresh strawberries of the season waiting for you in the kitchen.

and when you watch kento take his time and brush his teeth, hip accidentally bumping against yours as he leans down to rinse his mouth, you realize your home is with kento now.

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “well, we’ve shared a bed before,” you kiss delicately at the slant of his jaw again, “but i’ve never seen you shirtless and brushing your teeth.”

“this new obsession is scaring me,” he mumbles, “what’s so special about me brushing my teeth?”

“oh, kento,” you grin, warm and bright and as fresh as the first breeze of spring, “it’s certainly a sight. you just have to see it.”

he hums, shaking his head gently as he chuckles in that soft, calm little way that he does. his arms find your waist.

your bathroom, even with missing shower curtains, feels like it’s always been yours. it feels natural, living with kento, it feels natural sharing a towel to wipe your face and leaving the door unlocked for the other to come in as you prepare for the morning.

“i have my own sight,” he murmurs, tracing your cheek as his hand cups your face, “you look lovely when you drool in your sleep.”

“kento,” you whine with a pout, “don’t watch me sleep.”

“how could i not?” he grins, brown eyes bordering on hazel as they brighten, “it’s the best new part of my mornings.”

he kisses you there, in the bathroom you still have to finish setting up, the tiles cool beneath your feet and his lips warm against your mouth.

it’s spring when you move in with kento—and you have a newfound appreciation for the season.

guess who wants to brush her teeth in the mornings with nanamin. it might be me. it might be my undying need for domesticity. it might be my deep desire to witness him spit. it might be both. i haven’t decided yet

[elicathebunny]

HEALTH SHOULD ALWAYS COME FIRST! PRIORITISING HEALTH BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE TO LOOK GOOD + FEEL GOOD.

People always leave out the basics when it comes to trying to improve their looks. Prioritising health is so important before going in and tempering with your body. Your base is what you work with and you can definitely level up with what you've got naturally.

DIET

Your diet also depends on what your goals are. Someone who wants to build muscle will obviously eat differently from someone who just eats relatively healthy. So identify what your goals are and work your meals around that.

Here are some videos to give you a better insight: HOW I LOSE FAT AND KEEP IT OFF MEANS, WORKOUTS + EVERYTHING ELSE PROTEIN EXPLAINED, STRENGTH, MUSCLES, FAT LOSS & ENDURANCE HOW METABOLISM WORKS

Diet not only makes you feel better from the inside, but it also reflects on your outside. Your skin is a huge display of how you eat.

When you consume junk food, it can show up on your skin as breakouts or dullness. Your skin is one massive organ which soaks up everything put onto it and reflects everything you put inside your body. Fix the problem from the inside before getting confused about why your skincare routine isn't working.

FITNESS

Again, your fitness will differentiate from your goals. So work out your goals and make a plan around that. There are so many forms of fitness, some more intense than others and with different results. Working out in general is good for you, our bodies are meant to move. So even if you don't have a goal, staying active is always recommended.

HOW TO CREATE THE PERFECT WORKOUT PLAN

THE BEST WAY TO GAIN MUSCLE, SCIENCE EXPLAINED SIMPLY

Low-intensity workouts:

Yoga: Focuses on flexibility, strength, and relaxation through various poses and breathing techniques.

Pilates: A low-impact exercise method that strengthens muscles, improves flexibility, and enhances posture.

Walking: Simple yet effective, walking is a great way to improve cardiovascular health and boost mood without high impact.

Swimming: Provides a full-body workout with minimal stress on joints, making it ideal for people with joint issues or injuries.

High-intensity workouts:

HIIT (High-Intensity Interval Training): Alternates between short bursts of intense exercise and brief recovery periods to maximize calorie burn and improve cardiovascular fitness.

CrossFit: Combines elements of weightlifting, interval training, gymnastics, and other exercises to build strength, endurance, and overall fitness.

Sprinting: Short, explosive bursts of running at maximum effort, often performed in intervals for cardiovascular conditioning and leg muscle strength.

Circuit Training: Involves moving through a series of exercises targeting different muscle groups with minimal rest in between, combining strength training and cardiovascular exercise.

These are just a few examples, but there are plenty of other workout styles out there to explore depending on your preferences and fitness goals. Walking every day is just a simple way to stay toned.

SLEEP

Sleeping is important for rest and recovery after workouts and energy-consuming activities. Sleep is needed for the brain to function, mood regulation and performance + productivity. Lack of sleep deprives you of all of these things, so getting your beauty sleep is absolutely needed.

School-age children (6-13 years): 9-11 hours per day.

Teenagers (14-17 years): 8-10 hours per day.

Young adults (18-25 years): 7-9 hours per day.

Adults (26-64 years): 7-9 hours per day.

HYGIENE

Upkeeping good hygiene is always needed anyway. Making sure you are clean (smelling good is a plus). Make sure you always wash your hands and take daily showers to remove any dirt on your body (clean those feet and your back well, don't forget them!). Taking care of your oral health must not be forgotten. Oil pulling and brushing your tongue for a healthy mouth. Make sure your hair is also getting the attention to keep it as healthy as you possibly can make it (this also depends on diet). Doing the extra things like spending time on your nails (making sure there isn't that stuff underneath them), making them pretty.

BODY CARE ROUTINE | FOR SMOOTH & GLOWING SKIN, TREATING KERATOSIS PILARIS, SHOWER ROUTINE

ENVIRONMENT

Having a stress-free environment is obviously the best to thrive in. But clearly not even being lucky enough to live like that constantly. So make sure you have that space to be on your own and have some alone time to really recharge. Keeping your space clean for a clear mind. Surround yourself with like-minded people and really set boundaries for those who prey on your mental clarity (energy vampires). Spending time in nature is one of the best ways to detach, rest time should not equal spending time on your devices. Let go and truly let yourself decompress. Mental health will improve how you carry yourself.

EMBODY YOUR POTENTIAL.

[lordprettyflackotara]

huntin’ wabbitz || eyeless jack

REALLY FILTHY SMUT MINORS DNI. tw: size kink, disgusting sex in the woods/rain, breeding (obvi), slight cnc if you squint, brief descriptions of gore. i really like this one guys im locked in fr

Fear.

It was the only adrenaline you had left.

The wind slapped you in the face as you weaved through the forest, avoiding the large oak trees that threatened to block your escape.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, your breath shallow as you tried to listen to the footsteps following you. The man, no, the creature that was hunting you, was going to eat you alive. It was a tragic accident, disturbing a seeming cannibal from his dinner.

If his head hadn’t snapped up to meet your horrified gaze you might’ve passed out from the sight of unidentifiable piles of meat. That was all that was left of his previous victim. You could barely even process it being a person, it’s ribcage torn open brutally. You had never seen anything like it.

Your breath had hitched, your heart threatening to burst out of your own ribcage the longer you stood frozen. It was the demons haunting gaze that snapped you out of your trance. Its mask displayed empty eye sockets. If you were lucky, the demon would be blind. Unfortunately for you, you were far from lucky.

Your heart was racing like a rabbits, the sound like heroin to the demon nipping at your heels. It was then you felt a rain drop fall from the cruel sky, a convenient lighting bolt briefly illuminating the forest. You looked around, forcing yourself to stop. Your lungs were pleading for air, your mouth agape as you inhaled as much oxygen as physically possible. Your eyes darted around nervously, searching for the tall cannibal. You tried to listen to the forest, noting its silence.

It was eerie, the only sound ensuing being the rain droplets falling from the sky. Its companion was a low rumble of thunder that sounded far off in the distance. You leaned against a tree, paranoid as your lungs tried to regain consistency in breathing. You swallowed as you scanned your surroundings. Every direction looked the exact same. You audibly were panting as you searched for any sign of originality. Any sign of a marker that could lead you back to safety.

You had wondered away from your campsite with your friends, opting to explore a river you believed to be nearby. You had found your requested river, with a seated cannibal tearing organs apart in front of it. You felt like you were going to be sick, nausea washing over you. Foolishly you had left your phone behind, leaving you entirely on your own. Anything to connect with nature, right? Except this demon wasn’t apart of nature. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was a cruel joke the maker above thought would be funny.

Your vision was growing hazy, the rain from above beginning to pour. You could feel the rain droplets drip onto you, penetrating your clothes. It was then a large set of hands clamped onto your shoulders, your body jolting into action. As swift as you could you turned around, planting a firm punch to the attackers face. Your knuckles screamed in pain as you watched the demon stumble, his dark gray hands pawing at his mouth. You watched as his hands lowered, a crack splitting down the left cheek of the blue mask.

Your realization and the demons ensued at the same time, neither of you moving as another lightning bolt struck. Its light briefly lit up the forest, flashing a glimpse of the creatures silent rage. You turned on your heels, throwing yourself into the night as you tried to escape the creatures grasp. You didn’t get very far, the breath being knocked out of your lungs as the demon threw you against the mud below. You thrashed under his touch, trying to kick and punch any part of him.

The attempts at retaliation meant nothing, the demons eye sockets narrowing as he pinned your wrist by your head. His slender fingers were strong, gripping your tiny wrist and holding them by your head menacingly. “You’re a real fucking bitch you know that?” He growled. You noticed the dried blood on his hands staining your skin, the rain washing away it away. “At least i’m not a cannibal you sick fuck!” You fired back. The demon above you hovered for a moment, contemplating your courage. He couldn’t determine if you were brave or stupid.

“I am not a human,” The creature stated dryly. He lifted his mask, grabbing your frantic arm before it could do any damage. You watched as he smiled, his teeth razor sharp and blood stained. “However, your kind created what I am,” He purred. He leaned down, eerily close to your throat. You listened to him inhale deeply through his nose. Your breaths became more shallow as the realization fell over you, that he was smelling you because you were prey.

Clearly insults and threats weren’t working, the demons ears twitching. Your eyes narrowed as they twitched, realizing each little movement matched up with the sound of your heart beat. “You can hear my heart beat?” You asked. The rain had soaked the demon as well at this point, his brunette hair sticking to his forehead. Thunder rumbled around the both of you, your mouth running dry despite the on pour of rain. “As clearly as you can hear the thunder,” He replied. He finished taking off his mask, watching your face twist in horror as his full face was revealed.

His mask wasn’t an illusion after all. If anything it was a raw and brutal window, one full of transparency. You felt tongue tied as you stared into the demons empty eye sockets. A black ooze dripped down his under eyes, the substance seemingly leaking from the sockets. The creatures lips curled upwards into a devious small. “Scared yet?” He asked. The lightning flashed again, revealing the blood that still stained his rows of razor blade sharp teeth. You slowly nodded yes, afraid to speak any further. His eye sockets narrowed as he leaned closer to your face.

“At least you’re honest. Most of your kind isn’t,” He huffed. You watched as he dug into his black hoodie, pulling a small medical tool. You squinted as you tried to see exactly what the metal was, a strike of lightning revealing the scalpel. You froze as one of his large hands trailed down to the hem of your shirt. He was bringing the metal blade slowly to your stomach, your heart pounding. “Wait wait wait, don’t,” You say. The demons gaze lands on your face. If he had eyes he would’ve rolled them. “Is this the part where you start begging me to live? You aren’t better than your counterparts you know,” He huffed.

Your eyes were glued to the scalpel. There was no way he could be hungry after what you saw. “No, this is the part where I offer you something else,” You answered defiantly. The creature stared down at you in amusement. Your heart was pitter pattering like a little rabbit, his lips curling up into a mischievous smile. “Oh yeah? What could you possibly offer me?” He asked tauntingly. Truthfully money was useless, that wouldn’t work. The only valuable thing you had was your body. Which is what he wanted. Unless of course, you could offer him a different part of your body.

“I’ll let you fuck me,” You told him. Your breathing felt shallow as you watched the demons face fall into deep concentration. “Must be lonely living out here, right? I can fix that,” You continued, your voice trailing off. He stared down at you, watching you carefully. “You got a name rabbit?” The demon asked you. You cleared your throat as best as you could. “Y-yeah i’m-” You began, the demon cutting you off.

“Changed my mind, doesn’t matter. When you’re with me your name is rabbit, got it?” He huffed. His large hands slithered up to your bra, soaked with the rain falling from above. “Do you uh- you know, have a name?” You asked quietly. He squeezed at your breast through your bra, your core beginning to throb in desire. “EJ, but you can call me Jack,” He said quietly. Jack leaned forward, his lips hovering an inch away from yours. Your breath hitched, the smell of blood flooding your nostrils. “Dont be scared rabbit, I don’t bite,” He cooed. Jack teasingly leaned in closer to your ear, grinning, “And the taste of blood grows on you after a while.”

Jack brought his lips to yours, the taste of copper overwhelming your senses. You could feel yourself visibly cringing, Jacks hands shoving your bra upwards. His teased your nipples playfully, your tense body beginning to relax. You felt disgusted, lying in mud as the rain fell from the skies above with a demon toying with your body. You groaned as he twisted your nipples playfully, grinning into the kiss as he did so. “Oh I see, someone’s a little masochist,” He hummed. Jack chucked darkly as his lips strayed away from yours, trailing down to your neck.

Thunder rumbled around the both of you, your eyes fluttering shut as he began sucking at your neck. Jack knew he had to be careful, his teeth able to penetrate your delicate skin and dig straight into an artery. You’d bleed out before he could even have some real fun. He did crave you though, the closer he got to your skin the more feral you drove him. He wanted to devour your organs so bad it made him sick, his cock throbbing with desire as you groaned beneath him. “Thats it, keep making those noises for me,” Jack purred, his lips reattaching to your skin.

He had no perception of how rough he actually was, your neck becoming littered with dark purple and brown marks. His hand trailed down to your shorts, slipping underneath the thin fabric. Teasingly he rubbed two fingers along your slit, grinning as he felt your wetness. “Someone’s awfully drenched for the terrible cannibal, aren’t they?” He asked mockingly. You swallowed, gaining the courage to look at him. His dark gaze sent a chill down your spine. “It’s just from the rain,” You lied. You couldn’t explain what your body was doing. That it actually wanted this.

Jack pushed your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers against your bare cunt. You whined at the smallest stimulation, the demon above you becoming amused. Jack hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in a long time, his primal urges preventing him from doing so. But he knew his anatomy. He began to rub slow circles around your clit, relishing in the sight of your back arching off of the ground. “Fu-fuck-” You whimpered. You gasped as Jack shoved two of his slender fingers inside of you. He curled them with ease, his cock only growing harder at the feeling of how tight you were.

You hadn’t expected to feel this good, whimpers escaping your lips. “Thats it, such a good fucktoy for me,” Jack praised. He tilted his head to the side as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. You were crumbling around his fingers and he had barely even touched you yet. “That feel good? Hmm? The big bad freak gonna make you cum?” He asked mockingly. You couldn’t control the moans that escaped your mouth, your hair becoming drenched from the ongoing storm.

He continued to abuse your g spot, watching your cute facial expressions as he ruined you. “F-fuck Jack I’m gonna c-cum,” You stammered, unable to control the knot forming in your stomach. Jack couldn’t get enough of you. The sound of your voice moaning his name enough to make his cock twitch. “Yeah? Go on then, you can do it. Cum for me,” He ordered. You threw your head back, ignoring the mud coating your hair as you came. Your legs trembled as you came around his fingers, the demon slowly slipping them out of you. He brought them to his mouth, examining them.

You watched as three black tongues came out of his mouth, licking his digits clean. “Such a delicious rabbit. Now turn over,” Jack ordered. He could hear your heart pounding at the sight of his tongues. Truthfully he enjoyed it. He enjoyed scaring you. But what he enjoyed more was corrupting you. Ignoring the slimy feeling of the mud covering your knees and elbows, you arched your back in front of him. Your core was still throbbing desperately. You had never had an orgasm like that, your previous experiences with men nothing like this.

Faintly you could hear the metal clinking of Jacks belt as he shoved his pants down, the rumbling thunder echoing through out the trees. Jack rubbed his tip up and down your slick, collecting your juices on his shaft. “Since you’ve been such a good rabbit i’ll go slow. Don’t wanna break my new pet,” Jack purred. You gasped as he began pushing himself inside of you. The head of his cock alone was enough to make you whimper. Jack grunted as he slowly pushed himself in. “Fucking hell. You’re not a virgin, are you? You sure feel like one,” Jack huffed. If it weren’t for the unreal pain you were feeling you would’ve been able to explain better.

But instead you said, “No i’m not, I just- haven’t had great experiences-”

You could barely form coherent words, your mouth running dry. His cock was bigger than you anticipated, your body tensing up out of fear. Jack could feel your tension. You were so tiny compared to him. He swallowed as he slithered one hand down to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves. “Thats right, relax for me,” Jack murmured. The extra stimulation made you slowly relax, Jack able to fully bottom out. Once fully inside he let out a satisfied groan, before licking his lips. The storm was seeming to die down, a light rain shower the only thing the sky had left to provide.

Jack began slowly pulling out, before pushing back into you. You mewled as he began to go faster, snapping his hips into yours. The pain was fading into pleasure, your body craving more. His name fell off of your lips like a mantra, mixed in with strings of curses. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Jack groaned. He continued to pound into you mercilessly, fucking you into the ground below. His mind became blank all of a sudden, the only thing he could think of being rather simple: breed.

“You like this, don’t you? Being a slut for me. Taking me like this,” Jack panted. He drew faster circles around your clit, continuing to abuse your g spot. “Yeah? Wanna be my personal cum slut forever? My personal rabbit to breed?” Jack rambled. When you failed to respond with anything other than cock drunk moans, a firm slap landed on your ass. The electric shock of pain went down your spine, the skin already turning red. “Yes, please,” You whined, unable to say anything further. He could feel you squeezing around him, your walls threatening that you were close.

“Awe rabbit, are you gonna cum already?” Jack taunted. He grabbed a handful of your wet and tangled hair, pulling you back to him. His soulless eye sockets peered down into your fucked out eyes. “Go on then, cum all over my cock so I can breed you,” He ordered. Your eyebrows briefly furrowed, the demons gaze refusing to stray. “Just know once I do, you’ll be mine forever. There’s no escaping me. If you’re willing to do that just for an orgasm, you really do deserve to be stuck with me,” Jack grunted, his hips never letting up for a minute.

His threats only made you squeeze him tighter, his name spilling from your lips as you came around his cock. You could feel your vision growing hazy, black dots appearing as you blinked slowly. Your body was spent, the numbing feeling of Jacks hips snapping into yours continuing. You felt yourself take one more deep breath, before falling into the pit of darkness that called your name.

\/

Your vision was blurry upon waking up, your body sore as you immediately went to move. Your legs ached, your breath shaky as memories of the night before ensued. As you scanned your surroundings you recognized the tent you had entered the night before. Were those actually memories? You jumped at the sound of the zipper unzipping, revealing one of your friends named Emma.

“You’re awake? You’ve been asleep all morning, you missed Alex’s attempt at fishing. Come get some brunch,” She said cheerfully. You gave her a weak smile, nodding and forcing yourself to sit up. You cringed at the tightness in your legs. The bag beside you was filled with your clothes, your hands beginning to rummage through them for an outfit. You must’ve dreamt Jack entirely. You did hike yesterday with your friends, that’s why your body was sore. Right?

Jack wasn’t real, he was a figment of your imagination that only existed in deepest depths of your mind. The void filled with a monstrous creature that could fill your filthy desires. You began changing, pulling down your panties. It was then your eyes narrowed at the slickness that had dripped into them. You felt your heart begin to pound as you examined your panties, which were full of Jacks cum that had leaked from your cunt. He was real. And you were his.

[slytherin-princess-x]

Catch me if I fall pt.2

Theodore nott x clumsy!reader

The pages of the advanced potions book fluttered under my fingertips as I thumbed through the beautifully illustrated diagrams. Each potion recipe seemed to pulsate with a promise of power and mastery, igniting a spark of excitement in me. As I read, I felt a sense of purpose wash over me; maybe I wasn’t just the clumsy girl in Slytherin after all.

“Have you ever made any of these potions before?” Theodore asked, leaning casually against the table. The library’s soft lighting caught the glint of his dark hair, creating an ethereal halo around him. I could feel his gaze on me, his interest genuine and reassuring.

“Not really,” I admitted, glancing up. “I’ve mostly stuck to the basics. But I want to try something new, something that challenges me.” I shifted my weight, my nerves stirring. “There’s a potion in here called the Potion of Secrets. It says it reveals hidden truths when consumed. Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?”

“The Potion of Secrets?” Theodore raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Are you sure you want to uncover secrets? What if you learn something you wish you hadn’t?”

I chuckled, but the thought lingered. What kind of secrets could be unearthed? I glanced back at the page, tracing the elegant script with my finger. “I think it would be worth it. Plus, it could be useful in class or—”

“Or it could expose your love for someone,” he interrupted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

My heart raced, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks once more. “Theo!” I exclaimed, feigning annoyance, though part of me knew he was right. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” He leaned closer, and the playful banter we shared felt charged with something deeper. “You’re not the only one with secrets, you know. Maybe I’d like to know what you really think about me.”

I opened my mouth to retort but paused, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Was there something more behind his words? “Okay, fine,” I said, trying to play it cool despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within me. “Let’s say I do want to make it. Will you help me?”

Theodore straightened up, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “Of course. We can meet in the potions lab after dinner tomorrow. But be careful; potion-making can be tricky, especially with something as volatile as the Potion of Secrets.”

The next day, anticipation coursed through me as I gathered the ingredients I would need for the potion: crushed dragon root, powdered moonstone, and a few others that I hoped wouldn’t explode or turn me into something unspeakable. As I placed everything into my satchel, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this potion would change things between Theodore and me.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the castle as I entered the potions lab. The familiar scent of herbs and spices enveloped me, providing comfort even as my heart raced with nervous excitement. Theodore was already there, his sleeves rolled up, meticulously organizing the workspace.

“You made it,” he said, his smile genuine, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes as he glanced at my satchel. “Ready to unveil some secrets?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, taking a deep breath and trying to steady my nerves. Together, we set to work, following the intricate instructions in the book. The atmosphere was charged, filled with the heady scent of boiling potions and the palpable tension of unspoken feelings.

As we stirred the cauldron, I stole glances at Theodore, marveling at how effortless he made everything look. He was a natural; his movements fluid and graceful, just like the other Slytherins. Yet here we were, shoulder to shoulder, sharing this moment.

“Okay, the final ingredient,” Theodore said, handing me a vial filled with a shimmering liquid. “This is the essence of truth. Add it slowly. If it’s too fast, we’ll end up with a mess.”

My hands trembled as I uncorked the vial, pouring it in with great care. The cauldron emitted a vibrant glow, and the mixture bubbled excitedly. “Is it supposed to do that?” I asked, my voice a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Theodore leaned closer, watching intently. “I think we’re on the right track. Just a bit longer…”

As the potion simmered to a slow boil, I could feel the tension in the air intensifying. “What happens if we drink it?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Only one way to find out,” he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily between us. “But remember, we might learn things we didn’t want to know.”

I looked into his eyes, feeling a blend of fear and thrill at the prospect of uncovering hidden truths—both about the potion and about us. As the potion cooled, I took a deep breath, my resolve solidifying. “Let’s do it.”

With a steady hand, we each poured a small amount of the potion into two goblets. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the world around us faded. It was just the two of us, standing on the precipice of something monumental.

“To secrets revealed,” Theodore said, raising his goblet, his gaze unwavering.

“To secrets revealed,” I echoed, my heart pounding in anticipation. We clinked our glasses together and took a sip.

The potion’s warmth spread through me, a rush of energy that felt electric. I gasped, caught between exhilaration and uncertainty, the room swirling around us as our hearts beat as one.

And then, everything shifted.

I could feel the pulse of magic in the air, and in that moment, the true nature of our secrets began to unravel, each sip pulling us closer to truths we were both afraid to face.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[multifandoms27-blog]

First Kiss

Content: TFP! Megatron x Fem! T/O! Reader

Warnings: Drug use

Notes: The T/O above stands for techno-organic. Y'all already know I had to write about my favorite bot

• ───────────────── •

Entering the control room, you looked around at the unusually empty room. Normally Vehicons and Soundwave would be in here, but today, it's just Megatron. He had called for you over the comms, and you hoped you weren't about to get the Starscream treatment.

"You called for me, my liege?"

Megatron stood in front of the biggest screen that was currently off, and served as a window now. The stars and dark sky made him hard to see, if it weren't for the dim lights in the room. He had his servos clasped behind his back, and he slowly turned to look at you.

"Yes, I have called you. I wanted to...address something peculiar I heard." Megatron spoke...softly? Why was he speaking softly?

"And that would be?" You asked.

He let out a small chuckle and fully turned to you, letting his servos fall to his sides. In large strides, he was suddenly in front of you. Raising one servo, he placed it under your chin to ensure you wouldn't look away.

"Soundwave gave me some intel that was most...intriguing to me, and I wanted to double check with you first."

You weren't that high of a rank. You were barely at Knockout's rank, let alone Soundwave's or anyone elses. "Why me, sir? I'm no high ranked officer. Why not double check with Soudwave himself?"

"Because my dear, it is about you and your...feelings. Soundwave was gracious enough to tell me what you are too afraid to do."

You grew nervous. Did he know? "And...that would be?"

Megatron chuckled and looked over at the door. As if on cue, a Vehicon walked through with a tray in his servos. On the tray were two purple energon cubes...dark energon. You blinked in surprise, Megatron never shares his energon with anyone.

"Forgive my ignorance, but please no more dancing around the matter. What is really going on?" You spoke out of turn, you knew it, but you needed to know what this was about.

Megatron chuckled. "I know of your feelings for me."

The Vehicon stopped. Your heart stopped. Time seemed to have stopped. Megatron's smirk however, grew. So time didn't exactly stop. You felt the color drain from your face. How did Soundwave know? You felt a wave of betrayal wash over you. Unfortunately, that's how things go in the Decepticon ranks.

Megatron laughed and took both energon cubes and dismissed the Vehicon. "Do not worry, my dear. I return your affections. In fact, I asked you here today to toast to our new relationship."

"Relationship?" You were still lost.

"Well yes, we return each others affections, so its only natural we become one." Megatron's narrowed optics pierced through you.

"Yeah...yeah that is true." He handed you one of the cubes as you spoke.

"And what better way to become one, than to relish in Unicron's blood together?" Megatron placed one servo on the small of your back.

You were pulled closer to him, and you clutched the cube close to your chest. You had to remind yourself that you could ingest energon, but...what kind of affect would dark energon have on you? Regardless, your heart did all the thinking now.

"Okay. I accept."

Megatron's grin grew wider, showing more of his sharp teeth. He put the cube to his lips and drank the whole thing, and went in for a slow, sensual kiss. His metallic lips moved along with your fleshy ones. You felt the shock increase in your body, but you did relax.

Then you felt liquid enter your mouth, despite not drinking any energon. You thought Megatron had swallowed his...

The dark energon dripped down the sides of your mouth, and he slowly pulled away. He threw the empty cube to the side and caressed your cheek. "Feel the blood of Unicron take over your system, my dear. Soon it shall consume you, and we will be one in our shared interest."

The effects were immediate. You felt the familiar sensation of being high. Light headedness, delayed vision, sluggish movements...you were amazed at how fast it worked. You watched as Megatron slowly pried the dark energon cube from your hands and drank it himself, this time swallowing it. His optics turned purple and he placed both servos on your cheeks.

"We will rule the world, together, my love." Megatron grinned and kissed you once more.

You let the dark energon take over your system, and relished in the blood of Unicron with your new love.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my Transformers masterlist in case you wanna request something!

[appleblueberry-pie]

Thank you for answering my sick reader request. Can I please ask for a part 2 wherein Yandere Nanami nurses his sick darling back to health and by the end of their sickness they at least trust them enough to sleep and cuddle beside them

I don't really like doing part 2s because I love seeing ppl suffer from cliffhangers, but I'll do it this one time.

And Let Yourself Heal

You don't find anything to say as Kento continues to be patient with you. This morning, he was up before you to cook you a warm breakfast. When you opened your already exhausted eyes, he was standing at your bedside with a wide tray of warm breakfast. He gently fed you every single mouthful, making sure you slowly chewed each bite, and even let you have a glass of strawberry lemonade since you insisted on one.

He tucked you under the sheets once more when you felt the urge to go back to sleep. And he was there when you woke up again midday to help bring you to the bathroom to clean yourself up. For once, he was actually respectful of your space and let you do what you needed without him hovering over you this time. He said he didn't want you stressed over nothing and how it's bad for a healing body to be pushed to its limits.

When you finished with your bathroom routine and got into freshly washed clothes, he had your favorite tv show on and had you sit on the couch with a cup of unsweetened tea to help your hunger before he finished with lunch. All of this for you. It almost seemed like he was overdoing it for you, but when you looked into his eyes, you could tell he meant every gesture from the heart. His sleeves have been rolled up since the morning and he doesn't plan to relax until the sun goes down and it's time for you to go to bed once more.

Your mind was clouded with judgement with how Kento was treating you, and couldn't focus on the show. Instead, you watched him chop the fruits and vegetables on the cutting board. He seemed to try and perfect every cut he made for the fruit so you can enjoy it to the fullest without any problems when eating it. And the vegetables were minced nicely before they went into the heated skillet. The aroma floating through the kitchen into the living room settled your heart in ways you didn't feel was possible.

Kento turned his head to check on you before double taking when he sees you already staring at him. A nervous smile spreads on his face as he brings you the chopped fruit. "You pestered me about getting these the last time I went grocery shopping, so I decided to get them for you this time. Take your time with these, please." He gently informs you, placing the bowl of fruit on the table in front of you before leaving back into the kitchen.

You felt conflicted by the time dinner started. You were sure Kento hasn't eaten all day and has been putting all of his time and energy into taking care of you. You really shouldn't feel like this, but you were worried. Worried he was taking it too far for you and for himself. You watch him carefully organize a bite on the plate onto the eating utensil with a small smile on his face before showing it to you for you to eat. You hesitate at first, but still take the bite, slowly chewing. "Are you alright? Is it not to your liking? More salt?" You shake your head and let him wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

"Then what is it?" He mutters and gives you your cup of water. You hesitate to tell him, but then settle for telling him the half truth. "Maybe a little more garlic next time." He nods in appreciation and gathers another bite for you. When you blink, it's bedtime. For some reason, he always seemed to know when you naturally get drowsy at night, and makes that your scheduled bedtime. He's currently folding the covers underneath your chin for you to be the most comfortable when you sleep. His steady hands carefully take in every detail of the sheets to make sure you're alright.

You turn your back to him, closing your eyes to finally rest. When he finishes, he sits back up and rests is hands on his lap with a content sigh. You were way more compliant than any other time he's tried to take care of you. Maybe you were finally turning over a new stone, allowing him to show you the love you deserve and need. He stares at you from a distance, the distance he's always wanted to close. And without thinking, his hand raises back up on its own and gently rubs at your back. But you don't do anything. You didn't seem to tense up at all when he did this and Kento felt his heart leap with excitement.

Without trying to bother you, he decides to try and push it further. He waits a few moments and stops touching you before scooting closer to you. Nothing. With gentle movements, he lays down on the same side you're laying on and stares at your backside. And if he stares long enough, he'll realize that this is exactly how it looks in his dreams to lay in bed with you. This is genuinely all he's ever wanted. He refuses to ruin this moment by touching your waist or arms. He'll wait until you allow him to move closer to you. Allow him to touch your face, your sides when you're awake. And maybe then, he will have your consent to make the relationship bloom into something even more.

[lady-lani-1707]

I think at some point, womankind equated the idea that looks serve as proof of their humanity and moral righteousness. Internalised it, memoralised it, worshipped beauty. Now you could say men also face beauty standards, but women will always be their intended and main customers for every fad and trend. Our bodies are not just bodies but political measures. Countrymen love proclaiming that women in their countries look the best or might be offended if women marry outside of their culture and race. They covet their women like resources. When birthrates fall, the blame is shifted onto women to encourage them to have children. Thinness does not count if you attained it through medicinal means, and women who get plastic surgery are still not seen as valid. This all brings me to my one point.

The reason that beauty is so important is because it's a sign of obedience. Seems a stretch, but when I link it back, it makes perfect sense. This is why other means of fitting the standards like makeup, surgery, and medicines like ozempic are all seen as invalid. It's also why influencers fight so hard to keep the lie that they had no modifications to their appearance through unnatural means. It's not just about the looks. If it was, then society would pressure women into taking all sorts of harmful medicines and surgeries, and women would proudly name every single thing they had done without hiding it. It's about that coveted title of being "natural."

Natural means perfect. It means submission and obedience. Going through the agonising hunger pains to look skinny at all costs, spending time and thousands of dollars funding industries that pump out billions of useless devices and mystical serums that promise to fix skin problems and weight issues. Or toiling hard in the kitchen collecting dozens of so called natural remedies and trying to concoct your own ticket to acceptance from society. As if the goalpost isn't constantly being moved to unachievable means. The point is for you struggle and never make it.

That is the true point of it. To keep women distracted, to keep them weak, to keep them firmly under the heel of men and lost in the never-ending trends. Anytime progress is made like the #me too, #man vs bear, #4B movement it's quickly washed away taking the focus from womens suffering at the hands of men to another celebrity drama or hot new aesthetic trend.

The beauty industry is an obedience measurement, a conformity tool, it's the blinkers blindsiding the mare that keeps us trotting gleefully in tow of what the patriarchy wants.

There is nothing more rebellious, than not playing their game.

Take care of your health and physical capabilities - the less you worry about beauty, the more beautiful you become, in terms of your skills and talent. I'm not saying don't take care of yourself but don't aim for perfection - aim for a healthy and happy body that works for you.

I know it's hard, trust me, I know. Start small, feel comfortable as yourself. Don't let yourself get trapped in the never-ending cycle of trends and aesthetics.

Beauty is not an indication of a good person. Your eyes are for seeing, your nose is for smelling, your mouth is for eating, your hands are for feeling, your ears are for hearing. Your body is a myraid of organs,cells,chemicals, and systems upon systems who aren't working with beauty in mind - but health. Remember that.

You were not born to be beautiful but functional. Resist beauty and advocate for health.

- Lani, your Lady

[aestherin]

seatmates | scaramouche x gn! reader

a random drabble i thought of at school bc of course my mind is floating :D

i was scrolling thru my drafts when i found this i totally did not forget about this i swear </3 also not proofread bc i don't have any braincells left :DD

wc: 589

You have always hated two-person desks.

Especially those that are too narrow you and your seatmate practically have to be squished against each other in order for both of you to fully utilize the desk.

"Fucking move," Scaramouche hissed.

"No, you," you pushed against his arm which had bumped into yours earlier.

He sent death glares your way, all of which you paid no attention to. After almost a year of sitting next to each other, it was second nature to build a system that's immune to the silent and furious side-eyes of an angry cat. How long has it been? Ah.

It all started when you made the grave mistake of being late for the first day of classes. No one else wanted to sit next to the menace that is currently sending daggers your way, and so you ended up sitting on the remaining available spot — the one beside Scaramouche.

The experience wasn't all that bad, though.

Sure, sitting beside him felt like being together with a grumpy old man, but even he had some soft moments. Like when he'd let you peek at his notes when you don't understand what the lecturer was babbling about (this comes with some mockery from him, but you shrug them all off).

Or like that one time you were shivering from the AC and he let you borrow his hoodie (this came with him uttering lighthearted remarks about how you should always be prepared because what if he wasn't there to lend his hoodie? Just what are you going to do without him?)

You returned it immediately after getting it washed but he told you to keep it. It's now your favorite hoodie.

Sitting next to Scaramouche was a give-and-take situation. He would begrudgingly lend you a hand, and you would do the same. He used to disturb you from whatever you were doing just to borrow your correction tape so many times that at one point, you just laid it out on your desk, free for him to use. Luckily, he got the message and just started using it whenever he needed to. Was it just your imagination or did he really start needing the correction tape less when you just laid the thing out on the desk?

He also once left his earphones at home and kept bugging you to let him listen to whatever was playing through yours because he swears even your trashy music taste is much more bearable than listening to whatever your classmates were chattering about.

That's what he said but he now listens religiously to the playlist you've been playing on repeat.

As an attempt to get back at you for what you did earlier, he bumped his arm against yours — which was writing notes, at the moment.

Across the organized scribbling of letters and words on a page of your notebook was now a long, thick line of black ballpoint pen ink. You gasped, mouth ajar at the painful sight of a mess.

"Dude! What the fuck?" You sharply turned your head towards him, only to find that he'd already looked away from you.

"Scara, you bit—"

He only sighed.

Your attention was swayed by him slowly and gently intertwining both of your hands above the desk.

"Don't worry about it. I'll rewrite your notes for you later."

He finally gazed back at you. Blood rushed up your face as he used his hand to guide yours to his lips, pressing a light kiss.

"At least after we eat out for dinner."

[nonbinarywannabepreggo]

Today we're comemorating our 6 months anniversary. I asked him to sleep with me. During the night, I woke him up to breed me on the same place he bred me intentionally and willingfully for the first time. At first he didn't want, but I gave him some time and went back to bed, and pulled his face against my titties. He started licking and sucking on them, getting a huge boner in the process. After a while of his accelerated breath between repositions, he took me to the kitchen floor. I couldn't help but reminisce about him dumping his load on my unprotected pussy. At the time, no IUD and my T was late. He came inside twice, flooding me with his baby-making seed. No plan B too, I had taken too many of those. We were out of water for 2 days, so no washing also. We stayed connected for a while, giving your seed a lot of advantage to take. We even took pictures, and they're available for you guys to see. I walked around just waiting for that to make my belly swell.

But today? A lot changed. You were making me feel like a mommy, and that made my pussy throb. You dicked me so hard I had to put a hand on my own mouth so we wouldn't wake up my daughter with my moans. You came inside so much, and I know you like that extra moist to fuck me again. At first, you were over me, my legs widespread, waiting for your cock to make me feel my sex: female. Right after I came the first time, your pounding only got stronger, even hurting me. And I love that pain and the feeling of you ripping my insides for your pleasure. You inseminated me succesfully, while I wondered about being lucky enough to be the 0,01% that does get pregnant with IUD. But it wasn't enough. I took a glimpse at your still rock-hard dick and knew it was time for me to serve my male superior with my bred pussy. Then I sat on his lap, forced his male organs inside, moving in wherever rhytm seemed to please him more. I ended up overdoing a little and got tired, asked him to go on top again, wich caused me to cum again. As his knees weren't colaborating, he promised to save that load for later.

He told me he wanted to play with my titties for a while, but was afraid I would take offense. As I become more and more certain that I am in no way inclined to detransition outside of kink, more and more I get into it in the bedroom. I actually need him to explore my feminility, and he's the only one I can do it with. I love to see his descent from a bottom twink to my pussy loving top. To see him desperate to acess and use my female anatomy to his gay pleasure. And to only imagine the next year, when we will get married and I'll go off of T and take off the IUD to let nature and your cum refeminize me to give birth to your children.

[21-krplnk]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

Dick Grayson x Spider-Man Reader

AKA; one of my favorite tropes ever.

CONTAINS !!! masculine reader (only cuz they go by Spider-Man, but I kept gender/pronouns vague), LGBT reader (also kept vague), mentions of stitches, the slightest hint of bisexual Dick, could be translated as a platonic or a pre-slash relationship, and they were roommates.

“Uh… hey.”

Pausing mid-stitch, Dick looked up at his doorway to see you standing there, your hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. There was the slightest worried quirk to your brows, your mouth formed into a thin line, and your eyes constantly glanced down the hall like you were planning an escape route. It didn’t take his natural intuition to tell you were troubled by something. Hell, maybe even anxious.

“Hey,” he softly returned, his suturing needle still motionless in his hand. He made sure he was fully facing you, giving you all of his undivided attention as he added, “what’s up?”

“… I… uh.” You gingerly pulled a hand from your pocket to scratch your neck. “I was wondering if you had some time to… talk?”

Talk? Trying not to show his concern, he gave a reassuring smile and scooted over on his bed. “Yeah, sure, of course.” His gaze was back down on his partly stitched-up arm. “Lemme just finish up real quick. You can come in.”

As he quickly got to work with closing up the wound, he could see from the corner of his eye that you hesitated for a moment. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and the clearer your distress was, the more suspicious he became on what this talk was going to be about. He had a pretty sure guess; relief washed over his conscious just thinking about it. This wasn’t going to be a serious talk. Well, it was, but not in a bad way. Rather, he was at least 99.99% sure it was a seriously good thing. Something to celebrate, even.

You were finally coming out to him.

Admittedly, he’s had his suspicions for a while. He’s known you for a while, enough to trust you with his secret as Nightwing, so he’s picked up on the subtleties you’ve left for him, whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But it was all just speculation until you moved in as his roommate, where he could basically observe you under a microscope 24/7. And when you suddenly became more withdrawn from him, he was vehemently convinced he was right.

Now, despite being pretty sure he’s known before you even knew, he never asked you outright. It’d make him feel terrible if you felt pressured to come out of the closet before you were ready, so he gladly gave you all the time you needed to tell him directly. And of course this didn’t go without dropping subtle hints that he loves you and supports you through all your endeavors.

The bed dipped as you finally sat down on it, just in time for him to tie off his stitch. “So,” he began, trying to keep the knowingness out of his tone, “what did you wanna talk about?”

You didn’t say answer immediately. Rather, you took to staring at his bedroom carpet for a few moments, presumably getting your thoughts organized. “I… need to tell you something.”

Oh, he’s definitely right about this. “Okay…?”

Another moment of silence happened between you two. “… I’ve been keeping this secret for… for a while. And I thought you’d be mad at first, cuz I never told you, cuz I-I was kinda scared, and… well…” you softly shook your head, like you were shaking away an oncoming tangent. “Well, I guess I realized… that… I shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have been scared.”

He couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N)…”

“Promise me things won’t change,” you softly pleaded. It was then you finally looked up at him with an apprehension. “Promise things won’t be… different… between us… please?”

“I promise,” Dick confirmed, voice dripping with pure sincerity and encouragement. “(Y/N), things would never be different between us. Not because of something like this. I care for you. And I always will.”

There were several seconds where you scanned his face, trying to find an inkling of a lie. After realizing he was being serious, you took a deep, shuddery breath. “Dick…”

He then watched as you brought a shaky hand up to the zipper of your jacket.

… Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute.

Before he could even process what you could possibly be doing, you pulled open your now unzipped jacket and turned to face him. All he could do was stare dumbly at your scrunched-up grimace as you finally dropped the bombshell.

“… I’m Spider-Man.”

… Huh?

Slowly, his eyes braved the trip downwards to your chest, only to be met by an all-too infamous spider symbol. Oh… Spider-Man. You’re Spider-Man. This was not the coming-out talk he was expecting. At all. Any coherent thought he previously had was thrown out the window in favor of processing… this. You’ve been Spider-Man this entire time and he had no fucking clue? What the hell? How did he just… not pick up on this? Was this why you became so withdrawn? You felt like you had to hide this secret from him of all people? Your own vigilante roommate?

… Ironically, these were probably the same questions he’d have if you actually were coming out to him… in a world where he didn’t already figure it out, anyway.

“… Oh,” was all he could say. He owlishly blinked at the insignia on your chest before looking back up at you. “Wow. Uh… okay. Holy shit, uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to recompose himself. He had this whole spiel prepared about how he more than happily accepts you for who you are, but it became quite apparent he has to make some adjustments on the fly. “You’re Spider-Man. Cool. I… I had no idea.”

You cracked an eye open, cautiously gaging his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”

“Well, I… can’t say I’m not shocked.” He sent a quick glance at the spider symbol. “I mean… I kinda pride myself on my detective skills, so… I guess I’m a little thrown off for not suspecting anything.” His jaw tightened a bit. “You really went above and beyond to hide this from me.”

“I-I know it’s kinda stupid, but… I mean…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t come to you initially after the spider bite.”

He could only stare at you with a blank expression. “A spider bit you?”

“Uh… long story.”

“… Well, then.” He laid back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. “Spider-Man’s my roommate. That’s cool. Uh… lotta questions, but I still gotta, y’know, process this.” He turned his attention back on them. “And not because I’m mad or anything. I just… was picturing a whole different conversation when you asked to talk.”

While you seemed to visibly relax at how he was taking this, you also cocked your head to the side in a quizzical matter. “What do you mean?”

“Hope I’m not making any horribly off-base presumptions,” (even though he was certain he was 100% right,) “but I actually thought you finally coming out to me.”

Now it was your turn to be thrown for a loop. After taking in what he said, you turned to face the wall with a simple, “oh” spilling from your mouth. “Guess it was only a matter of time before you figured me out, huh.”

“Hey, I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two,” he lightly joked.

You looked at him curiously, but didn’t pry, instead shucking off your jacket to fully expose the top half of your suit. “And yet…” you offered him a humored smirk, “you didn’t figure out I was Spider-Man? How does that make sense?”

“I have no frickin’ idea,” he exasperatedly groaned. “So, you mean to say you’ve been sneaking out to do your little spider thing this entire time? Right under my nose?”

“Kinda helps when you sneak out and do your little bat thing,” you countered with a sheepish shrug.

“And speaking of which,” he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, pointer finger jabbing accusingly at you, “we are so patrolling together tomorrow. I wanna see all your neat tricks up close. Got it?”

A warm chuckle bubbles from your chest. “Aye aye, Mr. Nightwing sir.” You even saluted him to sell your tiny quip. “Same time? 6:30?”

“If that works for you, itsy-bitsy.” After giving out his own chuckle, he quirked a brow at you. “But… I gotta know.”

“Yeah?”

“Where do… like… your webs come from?”

[melon-fodder]

BLOOM • T. Hiragi

Summary: Over time you fill Hiragi’s heart and home with little pieces of yourself.

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: for @seiwas subtle intimacies milestone collab: and there’s something, this feeling. The premise of this is so sweet. I just had to write something. Naturally, it’s extremely self indulgent and self-ship coded.

It’s raining outside by the time Hiragi gets back home, a paper bag in his hand that he’d had to hide under his jacket to keep breakfast from getting soggy.

Inside, he takes off his boots, putting them neatly on the shoe rack next to a pair of your sneakers that you likely kicked off and left. He straightens those too, shaking his head as he lines the heels up with the edge of the rack.

In the kitchen, Hiragi puts the breakfast pastries on a plate before popping them in the microwave for a short time, glancing around at everything he needs to get done today.

The dishes are clean and put up, but the towel is balled up on the counter rather than hanging off the hook like it should be. The fridge is still nicely stocked and organized the way he likes it, though the bottom shelf is home to 3 half-full cups—drinks you haven’t finished that have been cast off to the graveyard prematurely.

Hiragi removes all of them, pouring them out and rinsing the cups. You’ll pout at him later, and then he’ll remind you that 2 of those cups have been sitting untouched for at least 48 hours.

The microwave beeps, but all Hiragi does is turn it off, wants to keep your breakfast warm for when he finally manages to get you out of bed. The cool temperature in the apartment paired with the patter of rain against the windows leads him to believe that you’ll be asleep for at least another hour. At least.

So, he busies himself—folds the blankets on the couch, picks up the pair of fuzzy socks that have gotten trapped between the cushions, fluffs and straightens the ridiculous and regrettably fucking soft Squishmallow in the corner.

When he sneaks into the bedroom, you remain unmoving under the covers, quilt and weighted blanket pulled up to your chin. Your mouth is partially open, soft snores sticking in the back of your throat, and all Hiragi can do is smile as his chest tightens in a now very familiar way.

He stares for just a few moments longer before slipping into the bathroom, turning on the light only after the door is shut. The counter is home to two of everything: two tooth brushes, two types of toothpaste (“the mint is too spicy,” you told him years ago), two sticks of deodorant, two brands of leave-in conditioner.

Hiragi remembers when the space was mostly empty, when he only had a black shower curtain and a matching mat. Back when the caddy only held his body wash and favored shampoo.

Now, it’s full of different types of soap—organic, for sensitive skin, dermatologist approved lavender honey shit that he hates to love as much as he does. You use shampoo that smells like roses and lemon, and sometimes when you’re away Hiragi holds the bottle to his nose and takes a huge whiff in a pathetic attempt to get stoned off of it.

It used to not be like this. He used to not be like this. Hiragi lived the single life for many years—not in the ‘playboy, bring a new girl home every night’ sort of way, but in the ‘appreciates his own time and space’ sort of way.

His apartment was always clean, the only clutter being the corner in which he kept his guitar rack. There were no blankets on his couch, no stacks of books on the coffee table. His Netflix account was curated to him and him alone.

Now there are medical dramas in his Suggestions and Romantasy novels on the table. There are socks and blankets and toed-off shoes. At least one bra is hanging off the bathroom doorknob at any given time, and sitting on top of Hiragi’s very expensive amp among his very expensive guitars is a stuffed bear, its head big enough to hold the headphones he uses to practice.

There are pieces of you everywhere, and he likes it. He fucking loves it, actually. The apartment is so much more lived in, so much fuller with you in it. Since the very first time he brought you here after your first (long overdue) date, you’ve been slowly shedding pieces of yourself, leaving them for Hiragi to find and hold close to his heart.

That date, the one that somehow feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time, Hiragi had taken you to get coffee and sweets at a little shop Sako had recommended, then had brought you back here where you had perched yourself in his lap as if you belonged there (you did; you’d belonged there since he first saw you). You’d played with the little hairs at the back of his neck, speaking casually and playfully all while Hiragi tried to keep his insides from imploding.

He tasted your kiss for the first time that evening—your mouth on his, warm and plush, tongue still sweet from the vanilla in your drink. You sighed and hummed and giggled as Hiragi grew more eager, your thighs squeezing where you straddled him, and only after the two of you were well and truly breathless did you tell him that you had a great time and couldn’t wait for your next date.

You accidentally forgot your beanie, the first of many of your belongings to find a home in his space.

After that it was a cardigan, a phone charger, panties, a toothbrush—until the relationship hit the serious stage (as you both knew it would) and suddenly your things were arriving in boxes.

Hiragi’s mostly blank walls now have pictures hanging off of them, some artwork, some of them blown up photos of the two of you. There are aesthetically pleasing rugs and throw pillows on the couch. His fridge has goofy magnets on it as well as the occasional love note you leave for him.

You have permeated the space, claimed it for yourself like you claimed his heart, and Hiragi wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now, freshly showered and mostly dry, Hiragi slips on his boxers and pads back into the bedroom where you are still sound asleep.

He should leave you be. You’ll be up in another hour or so, anyway.

But…

You’re warm under the covers, laying curled on your side, perfect for Hiragi as he wraps himself around you.

Your breathing stutters as he pulls you from whatever dreamland you were in, but you don’t seem all that upset, just smack your lips a couple times and mumble a groggy, “hi, baby…”

“Hey,” he responds, nuzzling into your shoulder as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

Your eyes remain shut, voice still thick with sleep when you ask, “you okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine. Just missed you.”

You let out a tiny laugh before clumsily turning to face him. Cracking one eye open, you remind him, “I’m right here,” then relax into him— “right here and still eepy.”

“Then go back to sleep,” he says, bringing a hand to your head to play with your messy hair.

“Plannin’ on it.”

You turn your face just enough to catch his wrist in a gentle kiss, make a delighted little noise when he reciprocates with his lips on the crown of your head.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into a light slumber, and Hiragi reflects for a just little bit longer—all the things he did that led him here, to this room with you in his arms—before he follows after you.

Breakfast can wait. He’s exactly where he wants to be in this moment.

[littlemarianah]

To me it makes perfect sense that Peeta, the guy who ties his shoes twice, Mellark be super organized.

I mean, the guy grew up in a bakery. His job was always sort of organizing things. Keep the counter clean, wash the dishes at the end of the day. After a work day, someone always had to stay in the kitchen until late to clean up all the breadcrumbs to avoid the rats, and that someone was always Peeta, the youngest.

Besides, I think Peeta's mother is the type who doesn't tolerate dirt. She's the type who inspects the boys' rooms to see if everything is in order, tells them to change they clothes if she finds a stain on your shirt and doesn't tolerate anyone looking unkempt.

Peeta just develops the natural habit of organization. Folded socks and underwear. Shirts hang on hangers in order of color, pencils in the pencil case always in order of size. He grows up and can't wear the stained shirts that his mother didn't like.

Katniss is kind of the opposite. She just leaves things wherever she goes. The hairbrush is never put back in the drawer after it is used, the bed is never made when she gets up, the clothes are never folded after they are washed.

She finds him neurotic.

And he thinks she's sloppy.

But Peeta end up learning from Katniss that it's good to leave the bed messy sometimes, because it's always better to lie on the soft blankets spread out than on the folded ones.

It's nice to jump in the rain and feel the mud get between your toes.

When the girl is born, Katniss seems unconcerned with the baby walking on the ground with her little feet, and picking up the dirt with her little fingers. Peeta always runs after her with a cloth to clean the dirt off her hands before she puts it in her mouth. .

But they are children and the older she and her little brother get, more they return home covered in sweat and with dirty knees. They like to hunt for worms in the ground, and they love it when the rain falls and they can dance under it.

Dirt and mess end up being synonymous with fun.

What makes Peeta more relaxed even if he is adamant about taking baths before bed. Little Rye hates it and always cries. The boy tries to escape, getting under Katniss' skirt, but Peeta always catches him and takes him to the bathtub. He scrubs the dirt away, even if the boy doesn't stop crying.

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ SECRET SANTA

PAIRING John Price x fem!reader (?) x Simon "Ghost" Riley

RATING R - Restricted [Content warnings: 18+ mdni, personalized fic (reader name provided and utilitzed), f!sub!reader, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, polyship, polyamorous relationship dynamics, the icing is supposed to look like cum... I don't know what else to tell you, minimal cursing, nipple play, brief fingering]

SYNOPSIS My submission for @bunnyreaper's organized secret santa event for @bookobsessedram. I do genuinely hope that you enjoy it, Aqua - I was super excited to get you, and it was a challenge to keep my mouth shut throughout the entirety of this event because I was so excited. Hope you enjoy!

WORD COUNT 2.3k

The icing packet feels cool in your hands, both held steady as you carefully squeeze it, applying just enough pressure that a steady stream of white pushes out. The vanilla icing drags carefully along the surface of the shortbread cookie, the line you’re focused on making as straight as it can be, the task more difficult than it looks.

Your teeth gently bite down onto your tongue as it protrudes from your mouth, eyes narrowed into a concentrated glare, focused solely on the task at hand - icing the cookies you had brought out of the oven a little over fifteen minutes ago, give or take. The process takes a considerable amount of patience and focus, both of which you have an abundance of.

The same can’t exactly be said for your boyfriends.

“C’mon, Em, leave the rest for the mornin’.” Simon huffs out, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his head cocked to the side, lifted barely an inch above his shoulder as he watches you from his place behind you leaned against the kitchen countertop beside the sink. His voice is rough, gravely, a twang of lighthearted, faux  annoyance present and he urges you to give it a rest.

He’s dressed in a loose, baggy black t-shirt with joggers to match, blond strands of hair messy and tousled, courtesy of the time he’s spent all day running around buying last-minutes ingredients for you. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, though - especially not when it means he’ll be able to enjoy the treats alongside you and John once they’re complete. 

Speaking of, the captain in question lets out a low hum, agreeing with Simon’s comment.

“He’s right, love. You’ve been at it all day. You can pick it back up in the mornin’, yeah?”

He encourages, trying a different approach to have you call it quits. He, unlike Simon whose spending his time doing nothing but watching you work, tasks himself with washing the dishes that remain stacked haphazardly in the sink, the front of his form-fitting tee dampened with a mixture of water and soap as he works to scrub and rinse the dishes. 

His eyes flicker to Simon for a moment, lips gliding over the skin of his teeth as his eyes narrow slightly, putting back down the bowl he was rinsing in the sink with one hand, his other reaching over to grab a hand towel and tossing it towards Simon, the fabric making a soft thump as it collides with his chest. Simon catches it before it can fall, giving him a silent look of confusion. 

John’s eyes flicker between Simon’s, the towel, and the clean, wet dishes that stack on the drying rack before turning back to washing the dishes, allowing Simon to come to his own conclusions with a huff with a subtle roll of his eyes - playful in nature, of course - as he starts on with his task of drying the dishes. 

Though, even with both of their urgings and encouragement, you refuse to step away from your work for the hundredth time, both to John and Simon’s detriment. Instead of listening, you continue to work on the little snowman you’ve been focused on making - surprisingly, even with only white, vanilla frosting at your disposal, looks extremely good and well detailed. 

“I’ve only got like… a few more left to do. Makes no sense leaving it to the morning when I can just finish it now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Mark all by himself - I’ve got to finish his friends.”

John lets out a choked laugh, snorting as his shoulders shaking, gently biting down onto his bottom lip as a means to try and stifle his own amusement while Simon takes it upon himself to connect the dots. There’s a pause for few beats between the three of you, filled with nothing but running water and dishware being settled into the drying rack, only to be picked up by Simon.

“Did you name the bloody biscuit Mark, Em?”

A few giggles pass through your own lips, back still to the two men behind you, though shaking all the same as you laugh to yourself. John’s not much different, coughing and clearing his throat in a poor attempt to stop himself from breaking out into his own fit of laughter. Simon rolls his eyes with a huff, an amused smirk spreading out across his lips.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. Children, the both of ya’.”

His words only spur you on further, detaching yourself from the cookies, bringing on of your hands up to your mouth as you gently bite down onto your fist, giggling. Your other hand, still holding the icing packet, squeezes, applying more pressure than you intended for it to, causing for the white icing to splurt out messily from the top, dripping down the plastic, coating your palm and fingers in the process.

The idiocy of the situation only makes you harder, eyes crinkling with amusement as you let out a snort. Though, as much as you find entertainment in the situation, Simon - whose had a front-row seat in witnessing your antics - is more focused on the way the white, sticky frosting clings to your skin, slowly beginning to melt and becoming thinner in consistency.

His hands slow with their work drying off the dishes, the towel held in one of his hands coming to hang loosely in the air while the other holds tightly onto a ceramic bowl, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. John, sensing Simon’s faltering and loss in focus, turns his attention briefly over to him, pursing his lips softly.

His voice comes out into the space between the two of them, barely louder than a whisper - though, it’s not like there’s any use in whispering, given the way you’re losing your mind in your own amusement is loud enough to drown out any normal-level voiced conversation.

“Si-”

“Look at her hands.”

Simon quickly cuts him off, jutting his chin out slightly, turning his head back as he straightens out his own posture, nostrils flaring as he rolls his shoulders back. With a roll of his eyes, John moves his head, peeking over his shoulder to look behind him, eyes softening as they land on your face first, the joy etched into it, before they trail down to your palms.

“Fuck me.”

He mumbles out, teeth gritted as his own hands match Simon’s as they still. The hot water continues to run in the sink, his hands free as they rest beneath the stream. He swallows thickly, eyes flickering to Simon’s for just a moment - it isn’t hard to catch the hunger that lingers in his gaze - before moving right back to your hands.

You, however, are so completely and utterly oblivious to how the sight of the sticky, white icing, continuing to thin as the cool glaze keeps continued contact with your heated skin, affects both of your boyfriends. The way it smears against the packet and your palms, leaving a string behind from where it sticks between the two points, awfully familiar to a certain other liquid.

So, it’s no wonder you have no clue how it affects either of them when you bring your palm up to your mouth, tongue darting out to press against it and licking a hot, wet stripe upwards, catching quite a lot of it on your tongue. Washing and drying the dishes are a task completely forgotten, both Simon and John’s eyes focused solely on you, even if you don’t realize it yet.

Simon lets out a grunt, John a stifled groan, all while you focus on licking your hand clean.

You’re so focused on licking your fingers completely clean, though, tongue passing over every inch of skin near them that you can reach, that you completely miss the way that some of the frosting has dripped down to your wrist, a stream traveling to and gathering there, before a sizeable glob it falls, splattering messily against your chest.

It falls just below your collarbones, starting to leave a trail down between the valley between your tits. The shirt you have on is fairly low cut, so it’s easy to see the process as it happens, much of your upper chest already exposed to the air. You purse your lips slightly, working to clean off the rest of your hand before moving your hand.

You intentions are fully set on picking it up with your finger, dragging it up a trail and licking it off. However, a rough, worn, warm palm stops you, gently grabbing onto your wrist as a means to halt your actions - though, the tenseness of it’s hold is unmistakable, challenging that forced gentleness it holds.

“I got it.”

You don’t even know when Simon moved away from the counter and towards you, but before you can fully process it, much less protest his actions, he’s already moving you, gently urging you a step or two backwards as he takes your old place, standing in front of you as he looks down, brown eyes, once so warm and light, darkened with lust.

His eyes remain focused solely on you, hand moving from your wrist, up your arm, before settling on the side of your neck, gently tilting it back, though far enough that you can still see him as he bends downwards. His stocky form leans into you, hot breath ghosting over your skin as his own tongue peeks out past his lips, licking up the sweet icing onto his tongue.

As his tongue cleans you up, Price’s footsteps fall just audible enough that you can barely hear them, therefore not surprising you as his hands find purchase on your hips, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the base of your neck, letting a breath out through his nostrils that fans out along your skin.

He gently nips at the skin, chuckling lowly, the sound erupting from deep within his chest as he moves to rest his head atop your shoulder, looking down and watching Simon, just as you are, as he licks the sticky icing clean from your skin, holding you firmly in place so that the blond can have his way with you as he pleases.

“Messy girl…”

Simon mumbles out against your skin, forcing a shiver that crawls up your spine, sinking its claws into your flesh as his licks turn into kisses, which turn into nips, which escalate into something more. His hand moves from the side of your neck to press into your shoulder, urging you to lean backwards into John while his free hand moves down towards the front of your shirt.

You follow the action, back pressing flush against the front of John’s chest, feeling the way he pulls you in further by the hips, the hardness of his cock easily noteable against your back.

One of Simon’s fingers hook around the fabric, twisting it around as he pulls it downwards, stretching it, and moving it to come underneath your bra, framing them - and, in kind, your tits - perfectly. You feel your own eyes flutter, breathing growing heavy and catching in your throat as your knees grow weak, held up solely by John, who simply grins smugly at Simon.

“C’mon, Simon. You can do better than that. Wan’na hear our girl moan, don’t you?”

He encourages, borderline chasting the other man, his grin widening as Simon huffs out a breath of amusement, moving both of his hands down towards the front of your chest and hooking his thumbs around the cups of your bra, jerking them downwards in a rough motion, freeing your breats with one simple action. 

He immediately moves further, bending down in what must be an uncomfortable position as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers move to pinch and twist the other, groaning against you. You can feel your own hips buck upwards as the most pathetic whine passes through your lips.

The desperate hunger in his actions mixed with John’s subtle motions of dominance make your head feel as though it’s tilting on its axis, getting spun ‘round and around until you’re positively dizzy, keening, whining, and moaning out unabashedly and without any semblance of shame.

One of John’s hands, both of which had been doing nothing more than holding you by the hips, move forwards, dipping beneath the waistband of your trousers and panties, middle and index finger spreading out as they meet your soaking cunt, gently spreading your folds apart. He isn’t at all concerned with taking either articles off and, if anything, seems spurred on by the challenge the boundaries offer.

“Soaked already, hmm? We haven’t even done anythin’ yet, Em.”

He taunts you, feeling the way your slick coats his fingers with ease as he inches his way towards your opening, swirling a sole finger around it in a slow, counterclockwise motion. He just barely teases the tip of his finger inwards, chuckling at the way you try to writhe and get more from him, all the while Simon puts all of his attention on your pretty tits.

“In ‘er defense, we’ve done a lot more than nothin’.”

Simon mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away before diving right back in, working to suck a hickey into the soft flesh of your breast right next to your nipple, leaving an assortment of them with the inclusion of nips and bites all along your skin, making a conscious effort to provide equal parts of attention to both of them.

John rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue gently as he pushes a finger inwards, feeling the way your walls welcome the intrusion with greed, swallowing the single finger up whole. He turns his neck just barely to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, letting his lips rest there, breathing out in heavy breaths that match your own and Simon’s alike.

“Guess she’ll have to build up a defense for herself then, huh, Simon?”

“Guess she will.”

It seems like you will have to leave the rest of the decorating for the morning, now won’t you?