#steam wash machine
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my bathroom flooded today bc my upstairs neighbors have an unpermitted laundry machine installed and probably disconnected the hose spilling all the dirty laundry water down through my ceiling vent into my bathroom. i tried to clean it up as quick as i could but i don't have seven thousand towels to mop everything up with and now both the laminate in the bathroom and carpet outside the bathroom have very visible water damage. so. that's cooooooool
#hikey#also the tenant upstairs is super sketch and i'm p sure subleasing illegally so this is gonna be a shitshow#i went upstairs and knocked several times trying to tell them what happened and no answer but i hear them whispering behind the door#and moving around all the fuckin time#i can also still hear them using the washing machine from my unit#i've heard the machine before but couldn't confirm until today#it was steaming hot water first of all and smelled of detergent#i grabbed a trashcan and put it underneath and all the water it collected was dirty nasty ass grey soapy laundry water#i have so many reasons to be mad but the thing that makes me most angry is they couldn't even be fucking decent and answer the door#not k|nky
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ah! sane, i maaay not be. to be determined
#salmon was half off and we had it with hollandaise and potatoes and steamed vegetables and it was soooo good perfectly soft and everything#and the whole family was happy and normal and i put the dishes in the washing machine and then sat down to eat strawberries (which were#also on sale lol). actual peace‚ bliss even#it was a little frightening but anyway i thought to myself. this literally fixed me. it was like grass#a good meal. sunshine. etc. oh and i also sat in the garden#but honestly i looked through this issue of spin and saw it had trey parker and matt stone as well and i copped that for myself too#so who's fixed now 💀💀💀#no but genuinely other than that it's laughable that in certain moments i'm like. hah. nothing to see here no turbulence i'm the most#well adjusted person on planet fucking earth. i've cracked the fucking code#and then.#kata.txt
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"It's like the actively want the bakers to fail."
Oh no. Are they giving it an ol' Food Network competition try, then?
ngl i have no idea what the food network does xhsndnskwkx but if they set ridiculous challenges that dont fit the brief of the show whilst not giving them enough time to complete the challenges and then criticise them for not leaping over the double decker bus they used instead of a hurdle then yeah, thats what they do
#fromkenari#gbbo#some of the challenges are just like im sorry did you throw the dictionary into the washing machine?#they ask them to bake a box at least once a year but like it cant just be a box#this years was make a box of chocolates as in make a decorate box made of chocolate that looks nice and then make chocolates to go in them#the technicals are always the worst though because you dont know what it will be and sure they give you a ''recipe'' and ''instructions''#but they often dont give you any timings or oven temperatures or measurements#one of them just had ''bake x'' and nothing else#in one series finale they had to make pitta bread on hot coals outside#in another challenge they said ''make a feather decoration'' instead of you know feathering so two bakers made a feather decoration#and those two bakers spoke english as a second language and were fucking penalised it fuck you paul hollywood#they also had to make sussex pond puddings which dont worry if youve never heard of it because no one has#apart from fucking prue leith apparently#they were popular in the 1700s and iirc theyre like steam suet pastries WITH A WHOLE ASS LEMON INSIDE#apparently theyre prues favourites which fuck you prue no theyre not#last year she also set ''vertical tarts'' which im still sure she made up#theyre the kind of ''deconstructed food'' shit rich people eat and pretend to love when actually theyre fucking stupid and impractical#and no one would ever choose a tart in this form because theyre just fucking stupid
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The Ultimate Guide to Car Maintenance
Maintaining your car’s appearance and performance involves more than just a routine wash. With advancements in automotive care technology, tools like car cleaning machines, steam car wash machines, and machine polishers have become essential. Additionally, the right car washing shampoo and ceramic coating can elevate your car care routine to a professional level. Here’s a comprehensive look at these key components to help you keep your vehicle in pristine condition.
Car clean machines are engineered to optimize and enhance the vehicle cleaning process. Equipped with features such as high-pressure water jets and built-in vacuums, these machines are versatile tools suitable for both exterior and interior maintenance. They effectively tackle dirt, grime, and stains, making them particularly valuable for those who wish to keep their car clean between professional washes. Investing in a high-quality car clean machine not only saves time but also ensures a thorough and consistent clean every time.
For a more eco-friendly and deep cleaning, steam car wash machines are becoming increasingly popular. These machines use high-temperature steam to dissolve and lift dirt and grime without the need for harsh chemicals. The steam penetrates crevices and hard-to-reach areas, effectively cleaning surfaces while sanitizing them. This method is gentle on your car’s paint and finishes but tough on stains, making Steam Car Wash Machine an excellent choice for those who prioritize both cleanliness and environmental responsibility.
To achieve a showroom-quality finish, a machine polish for cars is an invaluable tool. Unlike hand polishing, which can be labor-intensive and inconsistent, machine polishers offer even application and effective results with minimal effort. These devices can remove scratches, swirl marks, and oxidation from your car’s surface, restoring its shine and enhancing its appearance. Whether you’re a professional detailer or a car enthusiast, investing in a high-quality machine polish for car can significantly improve the visual appeal of your vehicle.
Selecting the right car washing shampoo is crucial for maintaining your car’s finish. Unlike regular household soaps, car washing shampoos are specially formulated to be gentle on automotive paint while effectively removing dirt and grime. They often contain lubricants to prevent scratching and protect the car’s clear coat. When choosing a Car Washing shampoo, look for one that is pH-balanced and free from harsh chemicals to ensure it is safe for your vehicle’s exterior.
For long-lasting protection and a glossy finish, ceramic coating is an excellent choice. This advanced protective layer is applied to your car’s exterior to create a hydrophobic surface that repels water, dirt, and contaminants. Ceramic Coating for Car provide enhanced durability against environmental factors like UV rays, acid rain, and road salts. The result is a vehicle that not only looks fantastic but also stays cleaner for longer and is easier to maintain. Proper application and maintenance of ceramic coating can significantly extend the life of your car’s paint and reduce the need for frequent washing.
In Conclusion, Combining the use of car cleaning machines, steam car wash machines, and machine polishers with high-quality car washing shampoo and ceramic coatings can transform your car care routine. These tools and products work together to ensure your vehicle remains in top condition, offering both protection and aesthetic appeal. Whether you’re looking to achieve a professional-grade clean at home or seeking advanced protection for your car’s finish, investing in the right equipment and products is key to maintaining your vehicle’s beauty and value.
#car clean machine#steam car wash machine#machine polish for car#car washing shampoo#ceramic coating for car
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https://vootclean.com/high-pressure-machines - Experience unmatched cleaning power with our High Pressure Machines in India. Designed for both residential and industrial use, these machines offer superior performance, efficiency, and durability to tackle the toughest cleaning tasks with ease.
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Best washing Machine For Laundry Use
When it comes to selecting the best washing machine for your laundry needs, Avon Engineering washing machines stand out as a top choice. Here's why:
Experience hassle-free laundry days with our Washing Machine’s intelligent features. Moreover, from automated water levels to precise wash cycles, it ensures optimal cleaning while conserving resources.
Trust in the gentle touch of our machine. Additionally, with carefully crafted wash programs and drum movement, it ensures your clothes are treated with care, preserving their quality and extending their lifespan.
Say goodbye to stubborn stains. Furthermore, our Washing Machine boasts advanced stain removal technology, effectively targeting and eliminating even the toughest marks, giving your clothes a fresh lease on life.
We understand the importance of sustainability. Consequently, our machine is designed to optimize energy consumption without compromising on performance, reducing your environmental footprint and utility bills.
Whether you have a small load or a hefty batch, our Washing Machine’s generous capacity can handle it all. Regardless, there’s no need to compromise on laundry volume or quality.
Simplifying laundry chores, our machine features an intuitive interface. As a result, easily select wash cycles, customize settings, and monitor progress with just a few taps.
Bid farewell to noisy laundry sessions. In addition, our machine operates quietly.
Crafted with precision engineering and quality materials, our Washing Machine is built to withstand the rigors of frequent use. Therefore, it’s a reliable companion for years to come.
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The Steam Jet FX-1D, a steam jet car wash machine that takes auto detailing to the next level. With its innovative design, the machine provides a combination of high-pressure steam and wax, ensuring a thorough and efficient cleaning process.
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Is steam good for car paint?
When it comes to car cleaning methods, steam has gained popularity for its eco-friendliness and effectiveness.
Introduction Steam Car Wash When it comes to car cleaning methods, steam has gained popularity for its eco-friendliness and effectiveness. However, many car owners wonder if steam is suitable for their car’s paint. In this blog post, we will explore whether steam is good for car paint, discussing its benefits and considerations to help you make an informed decision about using steam as a…
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#best steam car wash machine in india#Best steam car wash price#steam car wash benefits#steam car wash machine price india#steam car wash near me#Steam Car Wash Price#Steam Car Wash Price In delhi#steam car wash price in india
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.⋆。The Morning After。⋆.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader
Ghost was a big man, he loomed over everyone in the squad but you never dared to imagine how big he was everywhere until you accidentally walk in on him in the shower
Warnings: nudity, Ghost is fucking massive, horny thoughts, reader’s callsign is Pyro, implied smut, size difference WC: 1.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
You couldn’t look your LT in the eye, not that you could before but now it was even worse. You knew that he knew something was wrong but you were too damn stubborn and too damn embarrassed to clear it up. You could feel those striking brown eyes staring at the back of your head as you poured yourself a coffee from the ancient coffee machine. His gaze followed you as you bypassed your usual seat next to him and instead sat beside Soap, expertly positioning your body beside the Scott as to not see your superior.
“You’re next to me today then lass?” Soap threw an arm over your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement.
“Regrettably, yes.” You snapped back, your exhausted state only adding to the annoyance you felt around the man you called your friend. He smirked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What’s up yer ass today?” He asked right as you took a sip of the shitty coffee causing you to choke on the dark liquid, drawing the attention of the whole table to you. Soap beamed as you coughed and for a brief moment, your focus was not on the piercing gaze of Ghost.
“Nothing! Nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” You forced your attention to the front of the room where Captain Price was beginning his morning debrief.
Getting lost in the monotonous tones of the Brit, your mind began to wander to the events of last night.
Your entire body was covered in a layer of grime and sweat, a consequence of having to test out the new training course for the recruits coming in next week. You had been chosen ‘at random’ but knew that it was because you were the youngest of the 141 and thus at the bottom of the pecking order.
All you could think about after being in the cold mud and rain for a solid three hours (you had to run through it multiple times of course to make sure it was sound) was a steaming hot shower and maybe a quick version of your skin care routine.
Your feet dragged as you made your way to the showers, confident that you would be able to enjoy the room to yourself considering that it was nearing 1 in the morning, not hearing the gentle cascade of water already running over the sound of your own self-pity.
You beelined for your favourite stall but froze when you finally noticed the man standing under the steam. There was no question of who stood before you, the sheer size of him pointed to only one person on your squad.
Water rolled down his broad back like a river, snaking its way over scar tissue and muscle, reddening his skin with its heat. His shoulders rolled as his hands worked through his short dirty blonde hair, washing away the standard issues shampoo that clung to his locks.
You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift lower, settling on the pert cheeks of his ass and his strong, thick legs. Heat crawled up your neck and it was only partially because of the warm temperature of the shower. You held your breath as he turned to reach for the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him, exposing his profile to you.
Your eyes went wide and wetness pooled between your plump thighs. Good lord he was so-
“Pyro, we need you to run through the training course again. Ghost will help you out.” You were physically shaken from your daydream by your captain’s voice with the accompanying laugh from the man next to you. Your eyes flicked back up to your commanding officer.
“I must’ve run that thing 50 times sir. It works fine!” The older man raised an eyebrow at you before crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a disappointed look your way.
“Fine is not good enough. You’ll run it until Ghost thinks it’s enough.”
Soap, obviously finding amusement in your torment, said. “You’ll be runnin that course blindfolded if Riley has anything to do with it.” You groaned in annoyance and let your head fall to the table with a thud, ignoring the jeers of your teammates.
The rest of the day’s tasks were dolled out and the team was quickly dismissed, leaving only you and Simon in the room. He cleared his throat but before he could speak, you shot up. “I’ll meet you down there, I gotta hit the head.”
You scrambled from the room, leaving the giant alone smirking under his balaclava.
——————
“Faster!” Ghost barked, his voice booming between the obstacles. You growled in frustration, redoubling your efforts as you scaled the 12 ft wall in the centre of the course. You had already beaten your record three times over, yet this seemed to not be enough for your LT.
You reached for the rope at the top, your fingertips just grazing the braided fibres but right as you were about to grab for it, your other arm finally gave out after hours of work and you began to fall backwards.
Before the scream could escape your lips, your body was cradled in something warm and comfortable. When you were sure that you hadn’t just slammed into the ground, you opened one of your eyes and came face-to-mask with Ghost.
You could tell he was smiling behind that caricature of a skull by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. You huffed and attempted to wriggle out of his arms, desperately forcing yourself not to think about how warm and fucking massive they were. “Now where ya goin there Pyro. That was a big fall, I’d hate to see ya hurt.” His voice was even deeper than normal, husky and raw. It made your cunt clench around nothing.
“I um-“ You started to say but you were quickly cut off by a tut from your superior officer.
“I think we’re done for the day Sergeant, you’ve obviously proved your… endurance.” He said the last word like it was dirty, his brown eyes growing even darker as his biceps flexed, keeping you pinned to his chest. Something in your stomach fluttered. Even holding you up to him, Ghost was still looming over you, the shadow of his bulk blocking out the sunlight that licked at his broad shoulders.
Your gaze flicked to where the black of his mask clung to his lips before you caught yourself and forced your eyes elsewhere. “Yes lieutenant.” Simon chuckled and lowered you, more gently than you would’ve thought him capable, to the dusty ground of the training area.
“Good girl.” He purred and for a second, you thought that maybe you had actually bashed your head and now you were hallucinating. Ghost kept a paw-like hand wrapped around your elbow, preventing you from sprinting off.
“S-sir?”
“Ya know ye aren’t as sneaky as ya think ya are Pyro. If ya wanted ta join me for a shower, ya coulda. Don’t cha deny it, could feel those pretty eyes of yours searing inta me from 50 paces.” Your heart dropped.
“Oh god sir, ‘m so sorry, it was a total accident. It’ll never happen again.” His grip tightened, making your mouth snap shut with an audible click.
“Now when did I say tha I didn’t want tha?” His head tilted, the deep brown of his eyes glinting mischievously as he lowered himself closer to your face. “How ‘bout I show ya what ya missed out on a give ya a proper reward for bein such a good little girl?”
It was all you could do to nod your head and not collapse to the ground with a pathetic whimper. The edge of his mask shifted as he smirked down at you.
——————
“Sorry I’m late Captain, won’t happen again.” You limped into the briefing room, dark bags marring your cheeks. Price nodded at you and continued his debrief for the day. You winced as you plopped down in the only open seat, ending up right next to Soap for the second day in a row.
“Ye look li shite.” He leaned over to you. You jabbed your index and middle fingers into his ribs, making Johnny jump slightly and earning him a glare from Price. “Jausus, Ghost musta really battered ya ta make ya so bitchy today.”
You smirked and caught said lieutenant’s eye. “He really fucking did.”
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Mikey's voice is light.
It's tinkly, a little melodic, a little soft, airy- sounding, like a breeze coming through an open window.
You like how it sounds when he speaks, when he laughs, and especially when he says your name, the little 'chin' at the end he hasn't quite dropped despite being well into adulthood.
You like it even now, a thousand miles away, the tinkly breeze of his voice inundated by the crackle of the receiver, and the occasional shuffle as he takes another bite of a snack on hand.
And he always hums between it, changes position in his bed, an occasional "oof" as he turns over and presses the phone to his ear.
He likes your voice but he's not half as good with the words to describe it. He says it's "pretty" that's it - he likes your accent, the way your mouth forms certain words, the lilting foreignness of his name on your tongue, when you elongate "manjiro" to get his attention.
He's never said it mind you, but he thinks you know it already- or at least he hopes you do. You talk a lot with him, and he's surprised by how much he likes listening.
He's never been the type to slow himself down for anyone, take such a vested interest but it's different with you. He likes the wait, the "uhm" you do before you answer a question, the hum that often accompanies your thoughts.
Like now when you're quiet and he can tell that you're thinking, can almost imagine your eyes fixed to a spot with a frown.
'Hey 'jiro, can I ask a question?' you say now and your voice is punctuated by the rhythmic thump of the washing machine in the room adjacent.
It's a nice sound, helps to ground him sometimes. These almost nightly calls where you're letting him into your space even if it isn't physically. A reminder that you're there, that you're always there.
'Mhm? Yeah?' and he takes a bite of steaming hot taiyaki, winces when the steam seems to burn his tongue and you suppress a laugh at how he curses a "shit that's hot" and takes a swig of juice.
It's almost too comfortable at times like this. You could easily get lost in it- moments that never seem to end, the atmosphere punctuated by a tension that never breaks, a siren somewhere that reminds you of how far the two of you are, the lull in the line where the signal breaks.
And it's almost too easy to say, when you whisper a 'What would you do if you were in love with someone?'
And the silence is palpable, terrifyingly loud.
He stops chewing, eyes widening, a hand half halted in the air as he stares at the receiver, a sinking ache that settles in his tummy.
But he's Mikey, he's manjiro. And he's always known what that meant - the type that never lets anything bother him too much- the type that never cries in front of others- the type that has to be the man you need even if you don't feel like you need him.
'Huh?' he says, a little forced, a lump of taiyaki suddenly caught in his throat. 'You in love with someone or something?'
'Maybe I am. And maybe you know them.'
He lifts an eyebrow, the ache snaking towards his ribs. 'I know them?' and then, a sudden burst of noise. 'Is it ken-chin?! Oh you know ken-chin is in love with Emma-'
'No dummy! It's not ken-chin! I know he's with Emma, I'm not that mean that I'd go after your sisters boyfriend y'know.'
And he laughs unexpectedly at your sudden outburst, and it makes the tension a little easier to bear despite what he knows is coming, a rejection and hurt that he's spent a long time preparing for.
'Oh so not ken-chin,' he says and rolls over, propping his chin up in a hand that now discards the taiyaki wrapper on the bedside table. 'So do I get a clue?'
'No,' you say now, your voice broken by the pop-pop of a car exhausting it's engine outside. 'I didn't say I would tell you who it was y'know. But think...a little closer to home maybe.'
'Oh.......'I get it.' A beat. 'You're in love with Emma!'
'No?! When I said closer to home I didn't mean it like that!' You huff in faux annoyance, and he smiles to himself, the tug of his lips instinctual when he senses the irritation in you, and it hurts to prolong this kind of pain, to slowly tug the band-aid.
'Mhm, you could just tell me yknow, maybe I could help set you up.'
And you roll onto your back, stretch out a hand to the window where the moon sits on a branch, the white ivory of it cracked by the grey mist of the clouds.
'I do not trust you as far as I could throw you when it comes to matchmaking me manjiro.'
'Hey!' he says, a familiar pout as he stretches his hand towards the window on his own side, the edge of his white tank top riding up as he shifts onto his back. 'I'm not that bad. You saying I couldn't find someone who treats you like a princess?'
I could.
You giggle, a slip of a laugh despite the brewing tears. 'I don't doubt it, but no, I don't need you to matchmake me. And besides you're getting off topic. I asked what would you do if you were in love with someone....someone you knew.'
And you sigh, a half stifled thing that you hope he doesn't notice, hope is lost somewhere in the end to end encryption. And he pauses in thought, turning it over on his tongue, the familiar ache, the pain that never ends when he speaks to you, a dread that always follows the searing hurt of your smile across his chest. 'Mhm, depends who they were. Someone close?'
'I guess so. We're...best friends. At least I'd like to think so.'
'Excuse me, you have other best friends that aren't me?!'
You stiffen, pull back a little, a dangerously close dip to the truth. 'I didn't - that's not the point!' you huff, hoping it hides enough, hoping you're still elusive. 'Would you tell them?'
And his heart thunders across his ribs, a plummet into his stomach, a redness that spills across the ivory of his skin. He lapses into a silence then, a quietness punctuated by the thwack of the branches on the window.
'Jiro?'
'Huh? Oh yeah sorry, got distracted by something.' And he clears his throat, swallowing the ache, the spiky slice of a knife edge across his chest. 'I would only tell them if I knew they liked me too, if I was sure.'
'And....how would you be sure?' A whisper dripped down the line.
His tongue is heavy, clinging to the roof of his mouth, a weight that's heavy and suffocating. 'I don't know, I don't think you could be without being honest.'
'But being honest means you might be wrong, because what if they don't like you back? Especially as your best friend.'
You muffle the sniffle, time it perfectly with the roll onto your side, the moon now falling and hidden entirely by the trees, a white ring of light that cracks through the branches.
'Yeah....' he says, a trail of a murmur that's soft and silky. 'I guess you don't really know unless you try.'
And he hates that he holds out hope, that he wishes he could hear it even now, knowing what he knows, and hoping to hold on anyway.
'Mhm...yeah you're right.' A crash, a crescendo, an end. 'Anyway, 'Jiro, it's late, I gotta go okay?'
'Yeah, yeah me too,' he says, a disappointment crashing through his bones. 'I'll see you tomorrow yeah?'
'Mhm, goodnight 'Jiro.'
'Goodnight Princess.'
And he holds the phone to his ear long after you're gone, watching the moon fall further down, a hand of his stretched out towards it, knowing somehow somewhere you're doing the same.
Reblogs appreciated
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morning after
↬ nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, kusakabe atsuya & gender neutral reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version
a/n: debuting post for the monday afterhours, yay! i'm really excited to start, especially with the topic that's been at the back of my head for a while. i love casual intimacy and i love giving touch starved men the oh moment of their life cw: suggestive themes, implied bottom reader word count: 2.3k
nanami
Nanami is not used to noise and smells in the kitchen so early in the morning. Such disruption of his routine would bother his mood under other circumstances—but now, with the soft sound of your bare feet at the other side of his apartment, it feels only right. Familiar, he would even say, despite the atmosphere of a special occasion lingering in the air.
When was the last time he made breakfast from scratch, he wonders when the door of his bathroom closes behind you. Normally, he would be still asleep at this hour; his alarm would go off in thirty minutes, he would take a necessarily short and cool shower, check emails in case of an emergency, and then head to the 7/11 on the corner, to eat a humble meal of a pre-made sandwich and a cup of coffee from the machine, maybe an onigiri too, if he felt particularly greedy. Today, he barely slept and rose with a crack of the dawn—yet he felt the most relaxed since what seems to be ages to him. He still had the taste of you lingering on his tongue after the night, and decided to savor it until the flavor of cooking he had to test on the way would eventually wash it away. Scratched marks on his shoulders and back stung when he leaned to check what he had in the fridge. His hips, unlearned of moves he had been using on you since you had devoured the takeaway dinner together, ached as he tiptoed to reach the rice cooker, left dusty on one of the highest shelves. His eyes kept the afterimage of your blissed out face over the selection of vegetables and spices he chose for this meal.
When was the last time he was so peaceful?
Nanami finishes cutting the fresh cucumber and tsukemono, pours water into mugs with instant miso soup inside, and finally checks on the rice. It's warm and fluffy, just waiting to be put into the bowls he prepared—the cutest he had, with a long-tailed tit pattern. He brought them from Hokkaido and didn't use them even once, until he spotted them today and decided you would love them.
Rice has to wait; he can't let it grow cold like the sheets you two left behind are undeniably growing. First, he checks on the piece of salmon—a luxury that waited for a day when he could cook again—getting ready in the oven, then cracks a few eggs and beats them well with a pinch of salt and pepper. His stomach growls when they hiss on the red-hot pan—and he can't help but wonder if you're as hungry as him. Things you had in your mouth through the night couldn't feed you, as your corny, vulgar jokes suggested. Nanami rarely smiles but the memory of them and the startled look you gave him as you worried if you hadn't been too much for him has him grinning for a short moment.
When was the last time he felt strain in the corners of his lips?
The omelet is ready in no time. Nanami knows how you like your eggs, but he can't remember how and when he learned about it. He's sipped many details like this from your lips, through the whole year of waiting for the day you crossed the threshold of his bedroom. He was feeding on crumbs for so long... Being full out of the sudden fills his heart with content and anxiety at the same time. He wants to savor this moment, afraid to stomp on the thin shell of happiness too strong, but he knows he's already too addicted to stop. Whatever happens, happens.
And the food can wait only as long. He can't feed you a cold meal.
The hum of the shower ceases shortly after he takes the salmon out of the oven. Nanami listens to the commotion in the bathroom while he finishes the last cuts. Bowls are filled with steaming rice, plates and mugs find their right place on the table. He hasn't cleaned the kitchen—but even if he could do it quickly before you join him, he can't bring himself to disturb this disarray. It looks—it feels—so good to have his place messy at least once, at least today, at least for the first hour you spend together after the night of passionate lovemaking.
His hands still remember the shape of your hips, he realizes when you appear at the entrance, fresh yet still sleepy—and smiling bright at the sight of him by the table.
Nanami doesn't want to ever forget it.
higuruma
Out of the first mornings Higuruma experienced, this one is not the most...extraordinary. But he definitely would place it somewhere at the top of the list.
Seated on the edge of the bathtub, head leaned down, he still feels drowsy. The night was deliciously long and so worth the lingering fatigue in his muscles. He hasn't worked that hard in a while—well, physically at least—and he's undeniably going to pay the price with the top soreness of the last decade. He's more than okay with it...as long as you're not going to ask him for the repetition within the next few days. He's crazy for you—but he's not twenty anymore, and his job squeezes much more energy from him than he would have sacrificed, if he had any choice in this matter.
Speaking of squeezing—he barely managed to find time to bring you home, for dinner and a movie you didn't even start watching, hungry for something else than a story. And he did so only by nipping time off somewhere else—and by paying the carrying charge now, in his bathroom, awaiting the blind judgment of your skill...or the lack of it, to be honest. He has no idea if you've ever done a haircut before.
But you seem at least familiar with it enough to know how to hold and turn the hair clipper around. Higuruma watches you from the corner of his eye: you're right behind him, scrunching your nose as you're studying the shape of the device and options the various buttons provided. Bare-chested, wearing your pajama shorts only, you secure the towel wrapped around your head with the other hand. It's on the verge of falling apart, some of your hair already got out. He feels an urge to get up and help you tuck it where it should stay but just thinking about feeling it pushes blood where he really doesn't want it, if he wants to leave for work on time. He had his share of touch a few hours ago, stroking and playing with your locks as you had your sweet lips wrapped around his cock.
He's ruined the position when trying to take a better look, so you gently nudge him to lean fully again, a brush of your warm palm enough to have hair on his forearms standing. He had your hands all over him for hours, pulling him close, securing him next to you when you both finally collapsed into well-deserved sleep, so he could swear he's learned your touch enough.
But now...it's different.
You run fingers through the hair at the back of his head, testing the line you want to cut—and Higuruma is melting. He has to clench hands on the edge of the bathtub to stay collected; the last thing he wants is to get scolded and deprived of your digits slowly threading through his locks. You mumble something about being jealous of how thick they are and something about how badly he needs this cut—but all he can think of is how your voice is so raspy after moaning out his name over and over again. He wonders how your mewls would sound with this tone but thoughts evaporate from his head as soon as they've appeared, this time with the steady buzz of the clipper.
So the sound can be ticklish, such a weird sensation...
You're quick and as precise as only you can be at six in the morning, scrunched over his back in a rather tight space. You cut his hair just enough to keep him somewhat tidy for the few days before he can see an actual hair stylist; there's no time for more and Higuruma doesn't want to make it too much of a struggle for you. Even if it was his own request, he immediately regrets it when you're finished with brushing the cut dust off his neck and shoulders. It's such a pity you have to abandon him and rush with your own preparations. If only you had more time...
Right as he's straightening his back, you touch him with both hands, fingertips scratching lightly at the freshly shaved part of his head, right at the point where it meets his neck. Warmth explodes in his chest—and Higuruma lets out a low, needy growl. It's good, so good, oh gods, just touch him more, just do it one more time, he hasn't had anything like this for so long...
Humming, you move towards the longer strands, then down the sides of his face until you're cradling it between your palms. You tilt his head back and pull him close, until he rests it against your exposed, warm belly. Dry sob shakes his whole body and tears prick at the corners of his eyes—but Higuruma can't bring himself to close them or at least to look away. He's begging for your attention like starved and he's not ashamed.
All he wants is for you to never let go of him.
kusakabe
Holy shit.
Kusakabe didn't get a wink of sleep through the whole night—and the fact that he doesn't have anything to do for the day to come doesn't help the case. He always had problems with falling asleep after sex, but he thought the long break since the last time and, well, the overall busy period in his life would crumble this irritating habit by sheer force of exhaustion. He's as good at taking an accurate measure when it comes to love as he is with dozing off, it seems.
You're sprawled by his side, lying face down and on his arm, butt-naked with the exception of the blanket loosely wrapped around your leg and covering half of your ass. You've taken his share of sleep since you collapsed as soon as he rolled to his side and reached for wipes to clean you both, much to his amusement—and horror once he realized he was sentenced to his thoughts alone for the hours to come. Your smell, soft, twangy breathing, and warmth is just helping them race now. Your weight, pressed tight from his wrist to shoulder, keeps him in place too, cutting any attempt of shameful retreat short. It's nothing he wouldn't be able to move, he's carried you around not once and not twice and it meant nothing to his strength, but he dreads to wake you up.
You deserve that rest after taking his pent up tension over and over again. And he really has no idea what to say to sound appropriate.
Good morning? Good job? Did you sleep well? I love you?
Kusakabe groans and does another trip around the room with his eyes only. The more light sips through the loosely drawn curtains, the more details he could pick up, and shame already pricks at his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he cleaned around properly but even if he had it squeaky clean for the night, the area just screamed: a confirmed bachelor. Well, at least there's no trash lying on the floor or furniture, but he could easily pick up the smell of cigarettes and a badly aired room. None of it mattered when you tussled in darkness, sucking sloppy kisses from each other's lips and peeling clothes off your bodies. But once you wake up and take a look around—Nope, he doesn't want to think about it. That's a problem for Kusakabe from in-a-few-hours-future.
He rolls head to the other side, ashamed to even look at your sound asleep body, and stares right at his shirt, casually thrown over the bed stand. He doesn't have to look at it to know it definitely has its best days behind it. He could at least wear something presentable when seeing you for that unplanned job, hasn't he learned anything from his past relationships? Maybe he did, but it was so long ago he wasn't sure anymore if his sloppiness was ever addressed. His chain-smoking, however, is a different story.
Holy shit, he really needs to smoke.
Kusakabe knows there's a spare cigarette and a small pack of matches hidden in the little pocket of his shirt, this very shirt within his reach. Carefully, he scoots to the side and reaches for it, fingers already brushing the sleeve, just an inch more, just a little...
You mumble his name and shift, sheets rustling around your legs. Kusakabe freezes, sure he's finally done it and woke you up, but you just adjust your position, face turned to him, and continue with your softest snores. You're all messy and exhausted, in need of a shower even more than his room is in need of tidying. With amused relief pushing his worries out of his mind, he reaches out and gently strokes your hair.
You repeat his name, with a mewl dangerously close to what you screamed into his ear a few hours ago.
Out of the sudden, the thought of smoking by your side has him disgusted. You're going to wake up to this mess, to crumbled sheets and clothes all over the place and dying plants and papers lying on the floor in piles—and he wants to add smoke right into your eyes? You deserve better than that. You deserve him to be better than that.
Hell, he's been thinking about it for a while anyway. Maybe if he remembers your face from now, so calm and smiling through your dreams, it will be easier for him to finally quit.
thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.
tag list: @lale-txt @mirkaaaluv @ohnococo @clumsyraccoon @honey-deku
#nanami x reader#higuruma x reader#kusakabe x reader#nanami kento x reader#higuruma hiromi x reader#kusakabe atsuya x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#higuruma x you#higuruma hiromi x you#kusakabe x you#kusakabe atsuya x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fic#bas writes#jjk#nanami kento#higuruma hiromi#kusakabe atsuya#gender neutral reader#monday afterhours
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Day Seven: Bang Chan
Pairing: Chan x Reader
Warning: Smut.. wet smut [18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ]
Word Count: 1.1k
Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin | Day Three: Changbin | Day Four: Jisung | Day Five: Lee Know | Day Six: Seungmin |
“10 more minutes.” You groan, trying to stifle a big yawn as you look down at the treadmill. You were on a new self care journey or some shit that your roommate was forcing you to get into, which is how you found yourself finishing your workout at 5:30 in the goddamn morning.
When your 10 minutes were finally up, you got off the machine, wiping it down before texting a few choice words to your roommate. She was supposed to meet you here at 4:30am this morning, after promising you she wouldn't miss it, even after spending the night with her boyfriend. She was a fucking liar and you despised her at the moment.
You take a sip of water as you walk towards the ladies locker room, desperately needing to take a shower before you have breakfast and head to your first class of the day. You wrap yourself in your towel and grab toiletries, walking to the showers when you notice a big sign on the door.
“Out of order.” You read. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”
You storm out of the locker room, looking around the gym. No one else was there but you. You glance over at the men's shower room. You were going to be quick, just a body wash, you'd be in and out before anyone knew what you were doing. You quickly walk over there, looking around the room one more time before heading you. You push the door open, walking in, you're surprised as you're met with a face of steam. You walk in a little further, wondering if the last person had left the showers on. You take your towel off, hanging it up as you walk into the giant common shower. The steam clears, and that's when you see him.
Chan.
You'd seen him around the gym before and always thought he was extremely hot but you were much too shy to ever talk to him. But here he was, standing before you. One hand on the wall, the other wrapped around his thick, hard cock. His head is thrown back, biting his lip as the veins in his arm protrude out while he pumps his cock. You can feel your cunt get wet instantly as you watch him. The soft moans escaping from his lips as he slides his hand up and down his shaft. You were so fucking horny, just for him. You knew you shouldn't be there but you couldn't stop watching him. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, eagerly wanting to please him.
You're unsure of what came over you, but brave and bold Y/N had decided to come out and play this morning. You drop your body wash on the floor, strutting towards him. He opens his eyes, turning his head to see naked you standing in front of him. He jumps back, releasing his cock as he tries to come up with something to say.
“You look like you could use some help.” You smile, biting your lip as your eyes graze his body up and down.
“Y/N.” He breathes, his voice deep and hoarse. You drop down to your knees in front of him. He looks down at you as you take his cock in your hand, leaning into it, opening your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. You maintain eye contact as you swirl your tongue around him before taking more and more of him in your mouth. You watch as his lips part, quiet gasps fill the shower room as you swallow his cock.
“Fuck.” He grunts, grabbing your head with both his hands. You open your mouth letting him fuck your mouth as tears fill your eyes. He looks down at you, taking all of him in your mouth, and it makes him want you even more.
“Such a good girl.” He groans, pulling his dick from your mouth. You wipe the precum and saliva from your face as he helps you up off the floor. He picks you up almost effortlessly, pinning you against the wall. His chilled chest presses against you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He drops you down a little, lining his cock up with your hole, harshly shoving himself into you. You moan loudly as he rams his cock in and out of you, your tits bouncing as he rails you against the wall. Your hand squeezes his bicep, trailing down his arm to his hand. He wraps his large hand around your wrist, pinning your arm now against the wall also.
“Shit.” You cry, squeezing yourself around him, your clit rubbing against him as you bounce from his thrusts.
“Fuck, I've dreamt about what you'd feel like around my cock.” He moans into your ear. He drops your arm, instead wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing as your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Oh god.. Chan.” You whine, your hands roaming his body, wherever you can reach. You move up to his hair, grabbing a clump as he continues to fuck you harder, the shower water pouring down on both of you. Besides running water the only thing you can hear is the sounds of both your pants filling the room. You can feel yourself so close to cumming as his cock keeps hitting the right spot with every thrust.
“I'm.. fuck I'm gonna cum.” You scream, your body tensing, your toes curling as your orgasm washes over you, causing you to jolt, but it doesn't slow him down. Chan continues to pump into you, desperate for his own release. He suddenly pulls out of you, you slide back down onto the floor, back onto your knees as he smiles at you. You open your mouth, you already knew. You watch him stroking his cock, your tongue out as you wait for him to cum.
“Fuck.” He hisses as he finally cums. He shoots his large load onto your tongue, some of it also landing on your face. His chest heaving as he slows down his pumps, milking himself for every single drop of cum inside him.
You close your mouth, your eyes still locked on his as you swallow his load with a smile on your face.
The look he had on his face, you swore he could have cum again from the sight. Chan turns off the shower, helping you off the floor again.
“Do.. would you.. like to grab breakfast?” He asks. You eagerly nod your head. Suddenly you weren't so mad at your roommate anymore.
#straykidsland#bang chan smut#chan smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#bang chan#chris bang smut#kpop smut#skz fanfic#skz imagine#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagine
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I think, for every one of us, there is a popular post that we hate A Lot, because it is either factually wrong or reductive, and while this isn't the post I hate The Most, it still irks me.
So, here's how to care for natural fibres:
Wool: Does not like to be washed, but that doesn't mean it can't get wet. What is problematic is the agitation in combination with heat and soap - that leads to felting. Wool garments do not go in the washing machine (unless they're superwash treated, but even then, I would skip the spin cycle) or dryer. However! Wool makes up for that by being antibacterial and repelling dirt. A wool garment will not smell, as long as you treat it right (ie air it out, do not stuff it into storage damp, etc). It will not need to be washed often. If you do wash it, soak with wool detergent, gently squeeze, dry lying flat (if you wring it or hang it up, it will stretch out).
Silk: DO NOT PUT IT IN THE DRYER WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU. Some silks can be gently(!!!!!!) washed in the washing machine, no spin cycle, dry lying flat. Washing can compromise the structural integrity of both the fabric and garment; something stiff, that needs to keep its shape (for example, jackets or dresses, dupion) goes to the dry cleaner. It is true that flowy, light silks, such as habotai, can generally withstand the washing machine - but it will make the fabric age faster. Wear underwear to protect your garment from sweat, and you won't have to wash it as often.
Cotton: We all know how to care for cotton. Moving along. (I will say one thing, cotton is the only one of these fibres that really does stink, and needs to be washed the most.)
Linen: Will not care about temperature shocks or mechanical stress, that much is true. However. Linen does not like dry heat at all, if you want your linens to last a long time, do not put them in the dryer. Do not iron them dry either, always use either steam or spray them with water (ideally, both). Linen also doesn't take colour as well as cotton and bleaches easily, so turn your colourful linens inside out, wash them on low temperature, and don't dry them in direct sunlight.
In general, tumble drying significantly shortens the lifespan of any garment, even cotton. As does fabric softener (and its general usefulness is questionable, to say the least). Avoid both as much as possible.
#ik nobody cares about this#but here you go#oooooh wool is so dEliCaTe!!!#anyway linen can be abused to hell it doesnt give a shit abt anything :) no. wrong on both counts. go to jail.#hrgh i hate this fucking post
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Steam Car Wash Machines - Revolutionizing Car Care
Innovative and eco-friendly, steam car wash machines are transforming the way vehicles are cleaned and maintained. Unlike traditional methods that rely on copious amounts of water and harsh chemicals, steam car wash machines use the power of steam to achieve a thorough and efficient clean. The steam generated by machines like the Steam Car Wash Machine S5K is not only hot enough to lift off stubborn grease and soil but also gentle on your vehicle's exterior finish. This technology produces enough pressure to effectively break down dirt, dust, and mud without causing damage.
Advanced Cleaning Technology
The Steam Car Wash Machine S5K is equipped to sanitize the interior of your vehicle while refurbishing greasy engine parts to a like-new condition. It reaches even the narrowest spaces and fittings that are typically inaccessible with traditional pressure washers, ensuring a comprehensive clean inside and out. This efficiency not only saves time but also conserves water, making it an environmentally friendly choice for car owners and detailers alike.
Benefits of Steam Car Wash Machines
1. Environmentally Friendly: Requires significantly less water compared to traditional car wash methods, reducing water wastage and environmental impact.
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Conclusion
Investing in a steam car wash machine like the Steam Car Wash Machine S5K not only enhances the cleanliness and appearance of your vehicle but also contributes to environmental sustainability. Whether you're a car detailing professional or a conscientious car owner, this advanced cleaning technology offers unmatched efficiency and effectiveness. Experience the future of car care with steam car wash machines—cleaning your vehicle thoroughly while minimizing environmental impact and maximizing convenience.
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i’ve been sick at home for two days so here have a sick-fic (steddie!dads edition, obv)
It took three weeks from the first day of school for one of Steve and Eddie’s daughters to bring home some strain of elementary school illness – the flu, Steve's pretty sure, though who really knows? Whatever it is, It’s been knocking the family out one by one over the last week. Three-year-old Hazel had been the last man standing for a while, but she woke up this morning with a pretty gnarly cough and no appetite whatsoever, which can mean only one thing:
Random elementary school sickness: 5.
Harrington Family: 0.
So today is a sick day – yet another, because Steve hasn’t been to work all week, same with the girls and school.
Growing up, Steve had liked sick days, when he’d stay home from school and watch TV and eat ice cream on the couch while his mom doted on him all day.
(Then Steve’s dad had an affair and ruined everything, but that’s a whole other thing).
He wants to replicate for his daughters one of very few fond memories he has of his own childhood, so, yeah, the girls have been livin’ large the last few days (as large as three sick little kids can, anyway). They’re piled onto the couch under all kinds of blankets, eating meals of popsicles and toast and crackers, and watching all kinds of junky TV while they doze in and out of sleep.
Steve can admit that having sick kids is not his favorite facet of parenting, but even though he's totally wiped and the house is a wreck, he can't help but find the silver lining anyway because the girls are extra cuddly when they're sick, even nine-year-old Moe who might be nearing the end of the phase in life where she'll allow her dads to cuddle with her, so they've been asking for snuggles and stories, and Steve's fever-brain is running a little slower than usual so he's been taking the time to appreciate how much he loves being a dad, even in the not-so-fun moments.
The older two are sacked out on the couch with Dinosaur Train playing quietly in the background when Eddie decides the brave the real world for a much-needed grocery run. Hazel is awake still, and she wanders after Steve as he attempts to work through the mountain of laundry that has been building up over the last week.
"Wanna help me make dinner?" he asks her as he shoves a final t-shirt into the washing machine.
She shrugs her little shoulders.
"Not hungry," she says.
"Not hungry?" Steve repeats, and he silently curses his childrens’ elementary school for not being as strict as they could be in handling the spread of the flu across its students.
Still, Hazel ends up standing on a chair at the kitchen counter and helping him “cook” (dump three cans of Campbell's into one pot and heat it over the stove – and he won't be taking any criticism on it either, Tracy Baker, who's claiming to still be making homemade meals even though her family's in the exact same boat).
Eddie returns from the store just as Steve is pulling the pot of chicken noodle soup off the burner.
"Bold choice to have the most freshly sick kid help with dinner," Eddie comments, his eyes on Hazel as he sets grocery bags onto the counter.
Steve looks over just in time to see Hazel’s feeble attempt at blowing on the hot, steaming soup turn into a pretty spectacular toddler-cough right into the pot.
“Christ, no wonder we can’t shake this thing,” Eddie continues, looking vaguely impressed.
“Eh, I’ll stick it on the stove for another fifteen. It’ll probably boil off.”
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Tomorrow is a Long Time 𝜗𝜚 John Price
Kinktober Day V: Masturbation
summary: the hubby misses you tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, masturbation (m!recieving), longing, yearning, captain peepaw’s tasty loins, yummm, author does not attempt at accents wc: 618 a/n: i kept this one short sorry i was pretty busy today because my washing machine was broken lol
MASTERLIST
John stood beneath the steaming spray of the shower, feeling the hot water soak into his skin and muscles, easing the tension from his body. He let out a deep, involuntary groan as the cascading water massaged his back, his hands dragging down his face as the warm droplets dripped from his hair and over his closed eyes.
He slid his hand down his stomach, leaning his head backward as his mind conjured images of you: sprawled out on his bed, deep moans of his name slipping past your pretty parted lips, eyebrows furrowed until the crease between them deepened. He fantasized about your pretty eyes gazing up at him, nails digging deep into his back as you arched your chest, pushing your perfect tits into his awaiting mouth.
He let out a deep grunt as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, beginning in slow strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to travel back in time just before he left, pounding your pliant body into your bed until tears were slipping down your flushed cheeks, sobbing his name as you came, clenching around his cock like a vice refusing to let go.
John rubbed over his bulbous tip, his hips bucking into his hand, pretending you were bent before him, ass spread, and waiting for him to sink his undeserving prick into your wet and greedy hole.
He called out your name in hushed whispers, trying to keep his voice low as he pleasured himself at the thought of you. It's only been one week, and he could feel the longing begin to settle deep in his bones. He wished he could be with you, holding you in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
He spread his thighs, placing his hand on the wall in front of him, leaning forward as his movements picked up in pace, pretending his fist was your sweet cunt enveloping him in your velvety walls, your pussy so wet it was running down your thighs and onto the floor.
As the images painted vividly behind his eyelids, his moans increased in volume, and he called out your name in desperation. He was so close. His top teeth sink into his bottom lip, and his sensitive skin reddens under the pressure.
“Please…” he moaned as if you were around to hear, but in his mind, you were. In his mind, it was your hand instead of his, taking his cock in your soft and smaller hands, no calluses, just gentle deft fingers moving up and down along his shaft, collecting his pre as you sank to your knees, darting your pink little tongue to taste.
“Fuck!” He barked, his wrist twisting even faster as he worked himself to completion, thick ropes of white shooting out from his tip. Some of it landed on the wall, oozing downwards towards the floor before sinking into the drain. But he pictured he was fucking it down into your willing throat like a good girl.
John didn’t want to open his eyes, to face the reality that you were not really there, so he kept his eyes closed, pretending you were still there. You helped him ride out his high like you always do while kissing along his neck and chest, telling him how much you loved him.
“I love you too,” he whispered back into an empty room, his hand eventually slowing into a stop as the last of his cum escaped from his tip. He reopened his eyes, staring down at his hand still wrapped around his cock; he couldn’t help but heave in disappointment even though he already knew you weren’t there.
“Fuck I miss you…”
main masterlist, rules
#tw:nsfw#john price x f!reader#john price smut#john price mw2#john price x reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober#2024 kinktober#john price#john price x you#john price x y/n#cod mwii#cod smut#venus.cod#venus.johnprice
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