#CALLED HIMSELF A TOILET

[ilovethenumber9]

Co-hosts and mephone!!!!

[itsdrawingmen]

I missed painting... did you miss me?

[theloveinc]

Bakugo wasn’t exactly… unaware of the fact that he gets a little bit in his head about you. It took him months to finally get settled into a relationship mindset without losing his sense of cool (being so in love with you, that is)… but then, suddenly, you’ve been dating for a year or so and have asked him to pick up some essentials for you at the pharmacy… and it turns out, in the meantime of his early-relationship-anxious-bliss, he forgot to actually pay attention to the little things about you (he doesn’t know what deodorant you wear).

[magimthings]

That one character that's gender queer but doesn't know they're gender queer because they don't know gender is a construct...

[swampthingking]

neil probably hates weed

i bet the first time he smoked, he smoked a joint like a cigarette and got Way Too High, greened out, and ended up fully clothed in the shower that andrew had deposited him into

and he never touches it again after that

[lostreverb]

talking to my brainrot 9 year old cousin this is so hilarious

[danielnelsen]

the dogs go out to wee for the last time before bed around 10pm-12am each day and obviously it's terrible weather for that (we didnt quite get 100mm of rain today, but it was close and it's not getting any lighter anytime soon) so i finally got them to go out at 1am

georgie did what i expected of just barely stepping onto the grass and immediately coming back in

but billy had to do his usual routine of running all over the yard for about 5 minutes and he is the soggiest, saddest little creature ive ever seen

[atticollateral]

it really makes you wonder where they draw the line between commendable and honourable, and batshit insane. our soldiers are to be commemorated for their giving to the state, for their cause, of their life to their country and government. Yet, the second they deviate to give out of their own heart in the name of a different cause- which arguably, giving your life for someone else's home is far more commendable than giving it up for your government, -suddenly they aren't honourable anymore. Tell me about that, America.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[sukunasweetheart]

Being the bane of sukunas existence as you're his girlfriend because you act like a perverted old man around him... he kinda digs it tho, its mildly hilarious and he doesn't dislike the unhinged attention (he tries to be so lowkey about it)

Every once in a while, you'll caress his behind or fondle his big boobily man breasts, the same way he does to you. he was only stunned at first - now he is completely unphased by your sneaky little hands.

he texts you, asking you what you want for dinner, and he's not surprised when the answer is "i want you oiled up and naked in bed by the time i get home". then he just replies with "making pasta"

Big obnoxious smacking noises when you kiss him all over, and sukuna just lets you be, he'll be sitting on the couch turning the tv on and here you come, smooching his cheek. sometimes, its the top of his head, other times, its his forehead or neck. if you do it too much though, you'll get covered with his bite marks in return.

when sukuna gets up to go to the toilet, you ask him if you can hold his peepee while he takes a piss, bc you saw a funny tiktok talking about it... he gives you a silent judgmental stare as he closes the door on your face. but behind it, he lets out the tiniest snort and shakes his head bc the idea of it is so ridiculous.

one time when you go outdoor camping with him you genuinely accidentally stumble close to sukuna who is taking a leak in the forest bush area and he catches you staring from behind as he's buttoning himself back up. and then he's chasing you down while you're screaming that it was an accident and that you only heard him peeing and didn't actually see anything. (not that you don't know what it looks like, anyway.)

when he's sweaty after a workout or some physical exertion, you'll definitely be approaching him deviously, talking about some "covered in flavour" type of bullshit... he'll push your face away and head into the shower but his ears are flushed with red.

just... sukuna who will let u mack on him endlessly bc he secretly doesn't hate the doting 🥹🥹🥹 and if you're not being obnoxiously lewd or affectionate?? thats when he knows something's up...

and obviously, every now and then you'll say something that makes him know that you're not just lusting over his body.

during a walk back home on a summer afternoon, you point upwards while holding his hand and looking up.

"sukuna, look. you're in the sky."

he reluctantly looks up, expecting some sort of dick shaped cloud or something like that. but there are no clouds in sight.

"what is there to look at?" he asks, quizzically.

"the colour, silly. when the sun's still setting, the sky always gets like this, around the same time everyday. the pretty pinkish colour, like your hair."

he turns silent and observes the sky for a minute. you call him silly, as if it's an everyday thing that you compare a person with the literal sky.

"it's my favourite time of the day..." you mumble, just barely audible to his ears. and something about the way you stand there, and speak so softly, makes you look so pretty to him. "i'll always think of you when the sun is setting."

"oh- but i think of you everyday regardless, i suppose."

he already knows that. he already knows you love him. why does he feel so flushed right now?

"alright, i get it. enough. let's continue home," he urges you, holding your hand tighter. you follow him down the street, like a puppy.

life couldn't feel more at peace right now, with your fingers interlocked with his, listening to you hum your favourite song on the way home, the street now covered with the orange light of the sunset.

"any ideas for dinner?" he asks, a few minutes after some silence.

"mmm..."

oh, he regrets asking the question now, fully knowing what's coming.

"i want your tatas in my mouth, please."

"tatas?" sukuna's asks with furrowed brows.

after bursting into laughter at the way he said it, you attempt to think up an actual food you want for dinner.

"...just for tonight." sukuna mutters.

"huh?"

"don't ask me again, i might change my mind."

"wait- really?"

let's just say, your mouth had a taste of heaven for the first time that night.

[aomiiine]

SAVE A PLANE, RAWDOG A PILOT

ON THIS PLANE, YOU’LL BE WITNESSING … commercial airline pilot!caleb & stewardess fem!reader, pure filth ahead!! warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI [18+ only], smut w no plot, he hits from behind, creampie, caleb’s a fucking tease, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 any action irl), not fighter pilot caleb, degradation (he calls u a slut once), petnames: sweetheart, baby, princess, implied aftercare, slight comedy lol, not proofread wordcount. 0.8k (procrastinating from my long ass sylus fic sorz)

DEAR PILOT of yours just can’t stand not touching you after every flight you share together. He says its because he misses you, you say its because he needs to mark your pretty body for the next flight you’re on to ward off unwanted attention.

working with your childhood friend as a stewardess at an airline he worked as a pilot was.. pleasurable to say the least. Caleb had trained to be a fighter pilot, something you respected him for despite his ridiculous teasing whenever he came home. But what you wondered most now, was why he suddenly abandoned his duties just to be a pilot for a normal plane travelling across countries.

Crisp uniform, fitting hat and a smug smile. Today was one of the many unlucky days you shared a flight with him. Fuck this guy, you snarled in your mind whenever you even caught a glance of him coming out the cockpit. Though those words became a literal fuck me real quick after a long flight.

You prayed with a hazy mind and hands bracing on the wall of the narrow toilet in the plane that no one was outside, body bouncing with the force of Caleb’s thrusts from behind you. “Y-you’re going too fast, what if someone hears?” You stammered between uneven breaths mingling with moans, unable to make yourself care much for your surroundings despite your concerned words, earning a scoff from the man making your legs quiver from behind.

“The only thing someone’s gonna hear is your fucking moans if you keep talking, sweetheart,” Caleb grunted with a hoarse chuckle, jaw clenched soon after with stuttering his hips stuttering into your sloppy cunt, velvety walls tightening around him like a silky vice.

He was in awe of his own self-control whenever he sunk his achingly hard cock back into your pussy, feeling your insides fluttering around him to accommodate his length stretching you out. The man couldn’t help but lean forward at this one specific clench, hand slamming against the wall ahead of you just above one of your own trembling hands.

“She’s so hungry for my cum, isn’t she, baby? Making it so hard for me to hold back with all that clenching..,” he murmured softly just behind your ear, though it was more like he was talking to your pussy with how he was punctuating his every word with a thrust, his body leaning down close to you with ease due to his tall height. He buried himself further into your warm heat with a squelch, the lewd mix of his pre-cum and your arousal. He felt a jolt of desire when you only clamped down on him harder in response, making him exhale a chuckle and quicken his pace, bringing you and himself closer to the edge.

“Ooh, fuck, now you’re feeling it, aren’t you? About to make a biiig fucking mess on my cock like a dirty slut,” he drawled cruelly with an initial growl, head dipped into your shoulder with your hand on your hip only tightening to hold you in place. Every plow of his cock inside your needy cunt filled the small room, the sound of skin against skin surely to reach the ears of those close by.

True to Caleb’s words, you sobbed a moan of pleasure, knees falling weak and unstable as your orgasm overwhelmed you, creaming all over his cock, making a mess that began to drip on the floor. Regardless of your recent climax, Caleb showed no signs of stopping, your pleasure only feeding his desperate desire to reach that high with you, to fill you up, mark you for the rest of the next flight until he could have you again. In time, his balls drew up tight, one last surge forward before he stilled and pumped his seed into your tight channel, painting those velvet walls white with his essence.

“Ungh.. Think I just made you even warmer than you already were, princess,” Caleb laughed weakly, forehead resting against your shoulder, big hand on your hip the only support you had to keep standing. “.. Oh, fuck you,” you huffed between pants, head hung low to catch your breath and recompose yourself from the intense pounding he’s given you ever since the plane landed and the passengers unloaded. “Yeah, you sure did,” he scoffed with a grin, leaning in with a pull from your stomach to sneak a kiss onto your cheek. He leaned away once more before you could gain the energy to scold him further, slowly pulling out of your used hole, leaving it full empty with nothing but oozing cum.

He reached out for the toilet roll nearby, grabbing a thick bunch of tissue to clean your wet inner thighs and wiping your slick folds with little effort, not wanting to truly clean you up of his cum yet. Besides, you were too tired to notice at the moment, so he pulled your panties up, tugging your skirt back down as he helped you take your hands off the walls to stand up straight.

After a proper few minutes of insisted aftercare by Caleb, you two were outside of the bathroom again, readying yourselves to leave the aircraft for your next respective flights. Once this experience ended, you thought that maybe sharing a flight with him wasn’t so bad. Well, maybe until you began to feel his cum beginning to drip down onto your panties while you were walking.

[amazingdilisnottonfire]

starting a list of things dan has accused us of doing/saying but he was the one who said it first

• calling phil a bottom

• calling himself phil trash n° 1

• taking toilets facing each other joke seriously

[foldingfittedsheets]

So one of my doctor friends shared a story when he was getting his degree that is stupid funny to me, even more so because he finds it so utterly mundane.

He was in a small lab class and they were studying how to read diagnostics on different bodily fluids. The class was about 80% female. When they reached the stage of needing to see semen up close things got… personal.

See, spermies don’t keep super well once expelled from the safety and comfort of their testicle. They’re delicate little guys that are best observed fresh. There wasn’t a feasible way to get enough fresh semen in from reputable outside sources that would be viable to study. And all the people incapable of producing semen of their own to study needed to find samples somewhere.

So the two guys in class were suddenly in very popular demand. The impression I got from him was that of a hunted creature, surrounded by the baying of hounds as they closed in, called for his jizz juice.

The day of class he removed himself to a private bathroom and did what he had to do.

For science medicine.

Later I would go on to take a cooking class at that university and used that very bathroom and while sitting on the toilet I thought, damn, I wonder how many dudes have had to come jerk it in here over the years.

[sunskisser]

balm | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1k

summary: bucky finds out that you got a (minor) bruise and didn’t tell him about it

tw: fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of accident and bruise, reader gets a little guilty, bucky gets a little upset

“Hey,” you feel Bucky’s hands on your hips, the soft touch of his lips to your cheek. “Hey, doll. Did you get lovelier over the weekend?”

You try to ignore the stinging sensation where his hand rests against your waist. You turn around to face him, abandoning your task of chopping the vegetables.

“Bucky,” you smile softly, arms going around his neck. He grins and kisses you again. “Hi. I missed you.”

“So did I, pretty girl,” he murmurs, thumbing at the skin underneath the edge of your shirt. He’s gentle as always, but the pain is almost unbearable. You try not to squirm. “There were so many times I almost called. But of course, Sam wouldn’t let me. You know, strictly classified location and all that.”

Bucky had gone on a mission over the weekend, and had just gotten back a couple hours ago. You let yourself into his apartment as soon as you got a text from him.

He’d mentioned craving pasta, so you started making some. The only thing you were trying to think about right now was making him feel loved after what must have been an exhausting few days.

You hum understandingly, turning back towards the kitchen platform and picking up the knife. Your shoulders almost sag with relief when Bucky lets go of your hips and stands beside you.

He eases the knife out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “Seriously, doll, it’s okay. I can do this. Why don’t you get started on the pasta?”

“Fine,” you sigh, moving to make way for your boyfriend to use the chopping board.

Bucky chuckles at your stubbornness. He glances over as you stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above the stove.

One moment, you’re rummaging through the shelf to find pasta, and the next, you feel his strong hands curving around your stomach and pulling you back down.

“Bucky —“

“What —“ Bucky interrupts, spinning you around. His hands find your shirt. “— is that?” He lifts it up, lightly brushing his fingertips over the dark purple lying just above your waistline. You try not to flinch. He notices, his frown deepening.

“It’s a… um… a bruise.”

“I know it’s a bruise, doll,” Bucky sighs. He crouches to get a better look at it, and you feel your muscles tensing up. From the stress or the pain, you’re not sure. “I mean, how did you — when did you get this? How did this happen?”

You swallow. His concern makes your heart squeeze in awful ways. “I, um… I got it today.”

“Today?” his gaze flicks up to yours worriedly as he stands up straight. “How?”

“Well, so you see,” you suck in a breath, “there was this other car which crashed into mine from behind —“

“What?!”

“No! Wait,” you grab his hands desperately, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, really. Just let me finish.”

You could’ve sworn he was glaring at you, but he kept his mouth shut.

“So, nothing major happened —“ you gulp at his deadpan look, “— really! I just got jerked a little from the impact, and the steering wheel hit me.”

“This hard?”

You confirm it with a nod.

Bucky exhales, fingers finding the rough patch again as he slips his fingers under your shirt. He presses it gently. You wince. “Did you at least get it cleaned up?”

The guilty expression on your face tells him enough. But you still confirm it with a feeble, “no.”

His eyebrows bunch together. “That can’t be good,” he mutters to himself, tugging on the waistband of your shorts to get a better look. “Can you please come to the toilet with me? I think we should disinfect it.”

You’re too overwhelmed with shame to do anything but agree. You let Bucky pull you to the washroom, manoeuvre you with his kind hands to sit on the closed toilet seat. He sits below, first aid kit in his lap.

You know he’s upset, even if he doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t show in the gentle way he wipes a washcloth over the area; the way he rests his chin on your knee as he works.

But it does show when he starts to apply the antiseptic cream. You hiss between clenched teeth, and he seems to have been reminded of the fact that you’re in pain, that you were in pain and you didn’t bother telling him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You don’t reply, opting instead to bite down on your lip. Bucky is quick to reach for your face, gently pulling it free from your assail.

He asks again, softer, like he wasn’t kind enough the first time. It makes you feel like a bitch.

“You just got back, you know,” you mumble. “You’re probably exhausted, and — and sick of me, and…”

“Sick of you?” he interrupts quietly, something akin to confusion on his features. He sounds hurt. “I could never be sick of you, doll. And… and I missed you. You know I missed you.”

Once again, you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t need you to.

“Listen,” he murmurs, tugging your shirt back down, “It’s my job to worry about you, okay? I don’t want you worrying about me worrying about you. Because I want to.”

“Are you sure —“

“I’m sure, lovely girl,” he says, getting up on his knees to kiss you. You bend forwards, feeling his affection soothe over you like a balm.

Bucky pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Promise not to hide things like these from me again, okay? I want to care about you.”

“You want to care about me.”

“I do,” he murmurs, smiling slightly at the awe in your tone. “I do, doll. I love you.” He presses a kiss to your nose. “I love you.”

Bucky revels in the beauty of your smile when you say it back, the first real one he got from you all evening. He was glad to be home.

[cathnospam]

Loser Bakugo’s a shy kisser

He’s confident in everything he does, BUT when it’s involving intimacy with you? He’s a whole different guy, and it’s cute, because he doesn’t realize it.

You’re always the one initiating kisses, hand holding, you both haven’t had sex yet, but you already know it’s only a matter of time where you’ll talk to him about it.

Bakugo never notices his attitude change either, he’s usually so loud and cocky with anything else; winning a video game with you, homework, even sparring, but right now he’s as quiet as Deku.

Nerd.

His palms are getting damper gripping your bare thighs, though you don’t mind it your blondie sure as hell hates it.

“Shit.” He pulls away from your pecks around his lips, to reach over his thrown t-shirt and dry his hands, “Fuckin’ sweating again.”

“It’s okay.” Your voice gives him a bit of reassurance, “I don’t mind it, boo.” A nickname he practically melts in your embrace when you call him that, his cheeks grow redder as he looks up at you, he lets you continue kissing his face until you reach his lips and that’s when he begins to stiffen.

Bakugo’s lips are in a fine line, not on purpose, and you know it, it’s kind of like a jar top that won’t open just yet, you have to losen it a bit, giggling in between kisses you rub his chest all the way up to his neck, “Relax for me, please.”

His body slouches back in his headboard, almost feeling relief he didn’t know he had. You take his hands and place them on the bottom of your ass, “Look at me.”

His eyebrows were pinched as if he were angry, but his pupils dilated at you, “You’re so pretty.”

“Tch…I hate when you call me that.”

“Mmhm.” You punctuate your hums with a kiss to his nose, back down to his soft mouth, your hips began to rolls against him, a small whimper gets caught in his throat, but you swallow it, inviting your own tongue to invade his space.

Bakugo’s hands guided your body to rock back and fourth, you clothed cunt was so warm and plush against his crotch it was only a matter of time before he got rock hard, but it’s not like you would’ve cared.

Your presence was one of the very rare things that overwhelmed him, but he welcomed it. His mind was blank, but his body was shaking as if he had a jumbled up thoughts, practically moving on its own to feel more of you, the bed below began to creak.

Heavy breathing was exchanged between you both, you held the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp that made him groan into you, the kisses became sloppy on his end, it wasn’t his fault your tongue felt good sliding against his he started sucking on it himself.

Eventually though, you both needed air.

When you pull back his face and ears were coated red as his eyes, hair puffier than usual and a spit trait falling off his cheek, you giggle wiping it off with your thumb, making him feel some embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“You’re a good kisser.”

“I know I am I’m good at everything.”

“Yeah okay…” You roll your eyes to lay beside him, trying to his ignore the oh so clear and huge bulge he had in his pants, he couldn’t though.

Bakugo immediately headed to the bathroom without word and turned on the shower, he couldn’t bare you hearing him fist his own dick on the toilet…even though it was COMPLETELY your fault.

Hope you don’t mind being his jack off material for the next few minutes, your moans in his ear replayed in his mind.

Wouldn’t be the first time though.

[differenteagletragedy]

To me, Simon has the dumbest hair 90% of the time because he just buzzes it himself (I cannot believe that man pays money to one, do something he could theoretically do himself, and two, spend time with a stranger). The other 10% it's good -- when he first cuts it, an eighth of an inch of pale fuzz left behind, and when it just starts growing out, that's fine. But a lot of the time, especially when he's at home, he just lets it go.

And you, his next door neighbor, will never not give him shit about it.

"You look so goofy," you tell him when you see him in the hallway, one arm holding your groceries and the other fiddling with your keys. "Just cut it, Jesus Christ."

He rolls his eyes or tells you to fuck off, because you've known each other long enough for that kind of thing. He's lived in the building for years, never having seen a reason to leave, and you've been there for a few yourself. You're friends in the way that you may not call or text or schedule time to hang out, but you can scarcely think of anyone you see more often.

"Seriously," you go on, unlocking your door and speaking louder so he can hear you when you go inside. "It's just like two inches sticking straight off your head, why are you walking around like that?"

"Doesn't bother me," Simon answers, moving to lean against your doorframe and watch you as you put up your things. "Seems to bother you an awful lot though."

Your back is to him while you move around your kitchen, but you can tell he's smirking, and you scoff.

"Yeah, it bothers me. You get a face like that and you go and screw it up with the dumbest excuse for a haircut I've ever seen."

It's not the first time you've flirted with him, or even the most direct time, but it still gives him pause. He doesn't wear his mask when he's not working, most of the time anyway, because he thinks it draws too much attention and he'd prefer to just slip into the shadows wherever he goes. But you seeing him, and you letting him know that you like what you see, it does something to him, every time.

"You cut it then," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're the one so torn up about it, you fix it."

You snort, finally turning back to him, saying, "I'm not a barber, stupid."

"No, you sure seem like a coward though."

A few minutes later, you're both in Simon's bathroom. He's got his shirt off, straddling the toilet so you can reach his head, and you're behind him with clippers in your hand, looking down at him. You've never seen this much of him, never even seen the place where his tattoos stop on his arm, and it's a lot to take in.

You want to take your time, commit every scar, every freckle to memory, but he turns his head, smirking again.

"Told you you were a coward."

Without a word, you turn on the clippers and get to work.

It's not hard, it's just a buzzcut. The hard part is in touching his ears, gently pushing the lobes down to trim around them. It's in sneaking glances over his shoulder to watch his chest as it rises and falls while you work. In trying not to notice the tiniest little hitch in his breath when you lean in closer and rest your hand on his back while you get the hairs on the back of his neck.

The worst part though, is the beauty mark that sits perfectly in the place where his neck meets his shoulder. Specifically, the worst part is the strong, almost uncontrollable urge to bite it.

When you're done, you turn off the clippers and set them on his bathroom counter, then dust off his shoulders for him. Just before he stands, you can't deny yourself any longer -- you won't be able to reach it when he's not sitting so perfectly like this -- and give a quick, soft kiss to the mark.

During all the time you've known Simon, he's barely responded to your flirting. To you, he doesn't seem interested, and to him, you don't seem serious. But a kiss, faint as it may have been, is different, and before you can register it, he's on his feet, turned and standing over you.

"Hair looks better," you say softly.

He grunts in response, and before you know it, his mouth is covering yours, hot and insistent. It's a heady feeling, having him so close, and before you can get used to it, his hands are on you, first on your waist, then on your hips, then on the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up and holds you against him.

He maneuvers you both out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom, where he unceremoniously tosses you on his bed. You look up at him, letting your eyes trail freely over his body now, going down when you see him place his hands on his belt.

"Not so mouthy now, are you?"