#damp proofing experts

[bbystark]

♡ soap's little plan ♡

abo!141 x omega!reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: despite having a pack of his own, soap finds himself wanting more. he's grown tired of being the only Omega with 2 unruly Alphas. good thing you showed up, now he can flush those pesky little suppressants and make you theirs.

⚠︎ suggestive themes, soap being a little obsessed, invasions of privacy

a/n: series??? idk where this came from but enjoy

Soap wasn’t an unhappy man. He was talented, knew just how dangerous he was in the field, how many brushes with death he’d skillfully skirted with a big “fuck you” and a bloody smile. He had the respect of his peers and fear of the new recruits. Most importantly, he had a pack he loved. Never went to bed wanting or alone. His inner Omega should be satisfied, all things considering, and yet, he still yearns. 

He feels guilty sometimes. When he’s laid out on one of his mate’s beds, sweaty and thrumming with release. He rolls over, pressing wet kisses to damp skin and trying to focus on fingers that ghost over his head. Tries to push out the gnawing subconscious thought of more. He wants to scoff at himself. 3 mates and somehow he still couldn’t help but be greedy. 

It’s like Price says in the field (and in the bedroom, funnily enough): “You're a goddamn restless dog ain’t ‘ya? Restless and a dog, indeed. 

His words run through Soap’s mind as he stares at you. His dirty little one-sided secret. He’s watched you for months. Smelled you immediately when his eyes first landed on you, an unforgettable mix of vanilla licorice, fruit, and a tang of something earthy, like grass or rain. So unbelievably feminine and soft, he was intoxicated. Couldn’t help but watch as you walked down the hall. You had glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly; he remembered the chill that ran through him when you locked eyes. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

He had immediately sweet talked the Beta receptionist into handing over your file. He had tucked it under his arm and taken it to his room, locking the door and glancing around like he was a teen with a raunchy magazine. Read it front to back. You were smart, specialized in cybersecurity before you joined the military. Now you drifted from team to team, going where you were needed. Helping run covert hops here, a little hacking there. He felt a grin take over his face when he saw that in your last assignment, you acted as a demolition expert. An impressive resume, he faintly wondered why you hadn’t been pinned down by a team yet. Clearly, you were an asset. 

He got to your current contract papers, seeing you were brought on to be a floater. You’d help with missions in the unit how they saw fit. He could only pray that he’d be working with you eventually. He closes the file, thumbing the small file photo of you. You were beautiful no doubt, not smiling but still holding a hint of softness. 

He pauses when he realizes he didn’t see a presentation in your file. He flips through the pages again, skimming through your medical report. The boxes next to ‘Omega’, ‘Alpha’, and ‘Beta’ are all unmarked. It clicks then, your sweet smell and the lack of presentation in your files. You were an Omega. 

Soap wasn’t really supposed to be where he was as an Omega. While there were no rules against it, there were hardly any Omegas here for a reason. It was hard, both physically and mentally. Soap had taken twice the recommended amount of suppressants and nearly went broke buying scent blockers. Put his body through hell and back to prove he was worthy. It was only when he became Lieutenant and had the protection of a pack that he felt comfortable enough to stop hiding his presentation . By then, no one could really say anything about it. 

His heart raced. You were an Omega. He had no proof other than being one himself, but he was almost sure of it. It did nothing to curb his growing curiosity. 

He should have pushed you out of his mind, but he’s Soap. He’s insistent and can be downright stubborn when it comes down to it. It was just his nature. He formulated a whole plan, get close to you, slowly ease you into meeting his pack, then make you theirs. Plain and simple. 

It was not plain and simple. 

First of all, the guilt started eating at him. He had everything he’d ever hoped for, a family, a successful career, and here he was. The worst part is that Soap couldn’t help it, he loved his mates, their masculine presence and smell that filled a room. But he secretly can’t help but wish there was another Omega around, someone who could help him ground his Alphas. Gaz did a great job, but he was a beta, and Soap often received the brunt end of Ghost and Prices’ more baser instincts. Not just an Omega, but a woman. Someone with that femininity and power that balances and soothes an entire pack into submission. 

Second of all, you didn’t want to give him the time of day. 

The first time he approaches you is in the dining hall, your face stoic and focused as you grab an apple and place it on your tray. He takes a few breaths, your muted and yet somehow still overwhelming scent filling his senses. 

“New around here bonnie?” He finally gets the courage up to speak.  “Names Johnny, but people call me Soap.” He reaches a hand out. 

You take it hesitantly, and he revels in the softness. He tries not to get distracted by the way his hand almost completely covers your own. 

“Y/n.” you respond curtly, releasing his hand and grabbing your tray.  “Transferred a week ago.” You don’t wait for his response, making your way over to one of the many tables littered with people chatting. Soap hastily grabs a banana and his tray, taking long strides to catch up with you. 

“So uh, how you likin’ it so far?” He flinches at his own stutter. God, he’s out of practice. 

You give him a pointed look. 

“S’fine.” You sit, hastily picking up your spoon and taking a bite of oatmeal. It doesn’t deter Soap. 

He spends the next 30 minutes talking your ear off, receiving the occasional nod or “mhm” from you. You give up very little about yourself, answering shortly and precisely. It drives him mad. 

You cut off his rant on the latest recruits, standing abruptly. “It was nice talking with you Lieutenant MacTavish, but I have to get going.” 

He watches as you leave, stunned and frankly a little turned on at how easily you brushed him off. Soap was a sucker for a chase. 

He faintly realizes that you knew his rank and last name, and has a feeling that you’re a careful and intelligent woman. It only fuels his growing suspicion of your presentation. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Soap keeps trying after that, despite the gnawing feeling of guilt and greediness. The less you give him, the more enraptured he becomes. With every eye roll and silent stretch you give him, he falls deeper and deeper into the need to make you his. 

It only takes a couple months for it all to come to a head. Soap finds you in a hallway late at night, most people tucked away in their quarters. Your scent is slightly off, soured and citrusy. He loves it. 

“Where are you stormin’ off to?” 

You don’t answer, which is not unusual, but the way you push past him without so much of a glance, is. “Aye, c’mon love, what’s got you so worked up?” 

You turn on your heel, almost crashing into Soap. You didn’t hate him, sometimes you even welcomed the company, even though his jokes were shit. Not that you’d let him know you even remotely liked his presence. You stare him down for a second, teeth gritted. 

You had just overheard some particularly nasty and sexist comments about you, not the first time- hell not even the fiftieth time. But it never stung less, that people refused to see your experience and rank simply because you had the misfortune of being born a woman. You regret the words almost as soon as you say them. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, MacTavish. I’m not interested in your company, and I sure as shit didn’t ask for it. Go bother your pack, and leave me alone.” You spit the word at him, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s a reflection of your own loneliness deep down. You can’t stand the shock on his face, so you turn around and sulk to the kitchen to find a sweet treat to placate you. 

Soap watches as you leave, and he’s hurt. How can you not see how perfect you’d be for the pack? Granted, he’s the only one that knows, he still has no idea how to broach the topic with his pack. Would they hate him? Call him selfish, wonder why they weren’t enough for him? His fists clench at his sides as your scent completely fades. 

Then it clicks. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He smiles to himself, no longer upset at your blatant rejection. He almost skips back to his room. 

He has it all figured out. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning he flirts with some nurses, brings them donuts from the place off base. While they’re all distracted and giggling amongst each other, he quietly slips into the record room and grabs your files. His heart beats out of his chest at the little checkmark next to “Omega”. 

He knew it. He flips through the files quickly, finding a detailed page tracking your heat cycles. You haven’t had a heat in years, seeing a note that says you denied a doctor's request to go into heat at least once every 3 years. He knew that pain, he couldn’t imagine you putting yourself through that. You shouldn't be putting yourself through that. He’ll make sure that you don’t have to anymore. 

He flips a few more pages, going back to when you did have your heats. He finds an entry that notes that you had unusually long and painful heats, along with a prescription of sedatives. The next line states that you usually have them every 3 months, February, May, August and sometimes December. He hears his heartbeat in his ears when he realizes his luck of it being the beginning of December. It was meant to be. 

He closes the file quietly, closing his eyes in relief. You’d be his, and his pack’s, soon. 

That night, while you’re showering in the gym, Soap is breaking into your room. It doesn’t take much effort, he’s in within minutes, stepping into your sacred space. There’s a half assed nest in the corner of your room, your instincts must be strong if you’re still nesting while taking suppressants. He wants to go over and fluff it for you, add his scent covered shirt to the pitiful pile. He shakes his head. He needs to focus on why he’s here. 

He rifles through your cabinets, desperately searching. He knows you like long showers, but he’s still on edge. If he gets caught, it’s all over. He tries to be quick without disturbing the placement of your items, but he begins to panic when he can’t find those familiar little pills. He rushes to your bed, looking underneath. He’s about to lose hope when he moves from underneath your bed, cursing when he knocks his head on the frame. 

He almost doesn’t hear it. The soft thud of something falling. He looks back under the bed, eyes falling on a tiny box meant for jewelry. He grabs it, slowly opening it and removing the piece of foam on top. 

Bingo. 

He stares at the tiny pills, the familiar pale blue a contrast against the black of the box. He spills a few in his hand. There were enough for months. You were like he was, handing your health over in exchange for surviving here. His fist closes over pills as he makes his way out of your room. He locks your door behind him, trying not to run to his room. When he makes it there, he’s buzzing with excitement. He goes to his bathroom, opening the toilet lid and fishing the box from his pocket. He doesn’t hesitate in throwing them all into the bowl, and watching as the water swirls when he flushes. The water settles, and your pills are gone. 

Omega’s are the most sensitive of the three presentations. Senses more in tune than even the best Alpha. It was in their very biology to be strong in ways Alpha’s were not, to hold a pack together. Your biology would work quickly, work through the artificial hormones you’d been poisoning yourself with in haste. It happened to him, after so long of suppressing his Omega, it came back with a vengeance. You would be no different. 

And with Price’s rut- and Ghost’s, coming up soon, they won’t stand a chance against the strong smell of an Omega in heat. He’ll make sure that they find you, that they take care of you. 

It was all part of his plan, after all.

[moriitis]

Please! Create a situation with Toby being jealous! For whatever reason, I love it!

have I proof read this? no. so if you see mistakes, no you don't.

Jealous!Toby Rogers x Reader.

"Thanks Brian," you huffed softly, pushing strands of hair away from your sticky forehead. You were coated in sweat and your lungs burnt as you gasped for steady breaths of oxygen. The dampness of the forest floor beneath you cooled you only a fraction as you felt the increasing urge to peel off your hoodie. Whatever happened was a blur, but a blur that frankly hasn't happened in a long time. It had been awhile since anyone has considered stepping foot into the forest and you'd spent an increasing amount of time following their tracks and observing them within the shadows of the trees and shrubbery around you. Only, to your surprise, the person seemed to have a haunch that you were following and began speeding off into the valley before you; heading further and further into dangerous territory. Trespassers were bad news and by all means, they had to be eliminated, so when this person began sprinting off, the chase was on. Despite their speed, the forest was kind to you as you knew all what lurked deep within the fog and just when you were about to grab a hold of them, you slipped and sprained your ankle. Thankfully enough, Brian was on your trail close behind and thankfully this person did not get away so easy.

It was a rookie mistake and admittedly you were a little embarrassed to let it happen, but the rain from the night before made the ground slick with mud and the many holes that dotted the forest soil was dangerous to even the most simplest of Proxies.

"Don't thank me, it's alright," Brian reassured as he knelt beside you, lifting the cuff of your trouser to assess your ankle better. His lips pursed which didn't really give you much hope for the state of your condition. "Looks pretty swollen," he commented as he reached over to gentle probe your skin with his index finger, resulting in a sharp pain that made you hiss out. He grimaced and shot you an apologetic look from under his eyelashes, turning his attention back to your ankle. "I'm no expert, but doesn't look great." Admittedly, you bit back a sarcastic remark because deep down you were just annoyed with yourself and the situation. With a hesitant nod, you sighed a heavy sigh.

"Doesn't feel too great either," you remarked, forcing a friendly smile to hide the level of pain you were experiencing. Brian could only chuckle dryly as he leant back a little, hands on his knees.

"Think you could walk?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at the question. Your stubbornness ignited the spark inside you to at least try, a part of you not wanting to give in so easily. So, with a little grunt, you pushed yourself up from the tree; only as soon as pressure was applied to your ankle, you slipped a fell back down again. Brian's lips pursed and he gave you a look, pitying you a little. "Guess not." He said, trying to add some humour to the situation in an attempt to make you feel better. Before you could muster up a remark, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and immediately you felt the urge to jump into action. Only as soon as you made the attempt once again to stand, you collapsed with a pained grunt as Brian stood to his feet. You were both on high alert, a rock held securely in Brian's hand and your knife close to your chest as you glanced out into the darkness; awaiting.

Finally the bushes parted and out came Toby, the familiar beige hoodie, his hatchets in each hand and those orange goggles sat atop his messy, brunette hair. You breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't another trespasser but still irritated at the thought of Toby seeing you like this - as if Brian was bad enough. Toby was panting a little, like he were trying to find you and it seemed his shoulders dropped as he relaxed a little upon seeing you. His gaze flickered over toward Brian momentarily as he assessed the situation before him.

Now you and Toby were in no means together nor had you ever considered relationships since becoming a proxy, but you knew deep down if a part of you had to choose, it had to be Toby. His goofiness, the way he looks out for you, his dumb remarks that make your stomach hurt just from laughing, his hair, his muscles- okay, you were getting distracted and quickly you peeled your gaze away.

"Oh, it's you-you- you guys," he began, lowering his hatchets as he stepped a little closer. His gaze faltered over to your exposed ankle and he raised a brow in interest. "What h-hhappened with you?" he asked, trying to cover his worriedness with nothing but plain, odd curiosity. It seemed he completely disregarded Brian as he knelt down beside you, your gaze meeting with his for just a moment until he glanced away.

"I fell, Brian says I sprained my ankle," you muttered, cheeks flushing a little admitting it out loud. Brian crossed his arms securely over his chest, watching Toby.

"I'm just guessing, it could be broken," Brian chimed in, shrugging softly. He wasn't the expert, anything swollen could be broken or sprained. It seemed Toby wasn't too satisfied with that answer and huffed a little.

"Dummy," he teased softly as his fist jabbed you softly on your arm, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"She can't walk either, so it's good your here," Brian scratched the back of his neck, shrugging softly. He knew he had the strength to carry you, it's just he also knew how damn stubborn you are. Toby glanced up at Brian and back down toward you before standing back up straight, leaving you sat on your damp ass, leaning against an equally damper tree. Pushing his hatchets into the loop on his belt, Toby twitched and cracked his neck before shrugging.

"Alright," he replied nonchalantly. "L-LL-Let's goo," he chimed, Brian and him nodding in unison as they both knelt down to hook an arm under your own. You took support on their muscular frame as they lifted you to your feet, you being mindful not to apply any pressure to your bad ankle. With one arm draped over Brian's shoulders and your other the same on Toby's, you could feel a sense of warmness surround you and your cheeks as you tried to contain yourself. You were between two muscular men and this was the closet they had ever been, you could smell Toby's familiar 'woody' scent, a faint metallic smell that clung to his clothing and with Brian he smelt like strong aftershave. They both handled you like you were fragile, fine china and you could feel their stares on you as you slowly hobbled along in between them. Your heart was beating a million beats per second and you only hoped, prayed that they couldn't hear it. Toby's rough hand was secure on your waist whereas Brian's was more on your upper torso, just almost grazing your breast. Now you knew Brian never had any weird or sexual intentions, it was just awkward placement.. as for Toby, he only had alarm bells going off as he glanced over his shoulder to notice Brian's suggestive hand placement.

Each step you grunted and groaned softly as your foot make gentle contact with the ground beneath you and apparently, it got unbearable as Toby quickly pulled his frame away from you; staggering you slightly and causing you to lean more on Brian's weight. Something that really didn't sit right with Toby.

"This isn't w-wor-w-" he huffed. "Working," he announced, almost agitated as both you and Brian shot him a confused look. You went to open your mouth to say something but Brian already spoke up before you.

"What's wrong?" he asked but Toby didn't answer as he pushed Brian's arm off around you, causing you to almost step back and fall back on your ass. Only before you could, Toby's arm hooked under your knees, his other slipping around your torso and it was there he lifted you bridal style. You squealed a little as he lifted you into the air, causing you to hook your arms around his neck in fear of falling down.

"I can handle this," Toby spoke abruptly as he glanced at Brian, leaving him a little bewildered at what was happening before his eyes. It wasn't all the time Toby acted this way and honestly, it felt a little hostile. Thankfully, Brian wasn't one to lose his temper quick and in fact, caught on to the situation almost instantly. There was a little, smug grin across his face as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, right, yeah, seems you can," Brian remarked, shrugging softly. "Want me to tag along?" he asked but it seemed he already knew the answer.

"No, she's alright," Toby seemingly replied before you could speak for yourself, his grip on you tightening a little. Brian then sent you a smile, wanting to ensure that you were okay with this and frankly, you just nodded slowly.

"Thanks, Brian," you muttered softly, feeling too flustered to form a proper sentence at all. "I'll reach out." Brian only smiled and gave a court nod before disappearing off into the woods, focusing back on his task.

Toby seemed a little distant, cold and frankly it put you on edge a little. So, slowly you glanced up at him and raised a questioning brow. His muscular, tall body swayed a little as he carried you through the forest, where you were going? You had no clue but you had some weird kind of trust in Toby and is intentions, despite his coldness toward Brian.

"What's wrong with you?" you remarked, surprising the brunette a little as he raised his brows. Despite his sudden cold demeanour, there was now a smile tugging at the intact corner of his lips and you only became more confused.

"Why were you t-t-talking to B-Brian?" he asked softly and you were shocked, unsure on what to even say. So your mouth hung agape as you tried to grasp the right words to say, your mind nothing but an empty blankness as you tried to conjure up a remark.

"What? Wh-Wh-" Fuck, you were so shocked you were stuttering yourself! And Toby couldn't help but give you a look that said, 'are you mocking me?' You were flustered and now you were panicking. "What do you mean?" you quickly remarked. "He was just helping." You felt insane explaining this to him, it wasn't like you owned him anything nor did he control who you did or didn't speak to.

Shrugging softly, Toby just pursed his lips before responding: "But you have me."

sorry if this sucks i kept getting distracted heheh

[eyelessfaces]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

ellie williams x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: sex toys

warnings: vaginal fingering, overstimulation

word count: 0.5k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

Your hand covered your eyes, a small whine escaping from your lips as Ellie slightly crooked her long fingers to hit that spot again, simultaneously holding the vibrator more firmly against your clit.

She could sense you were getting painfully close despite your attempts to wriggle away from the vibrator pressed against you.

"Come on, give it to me" she demanded, pressing the button on the side of the vibrator to increase the speed.

"Fuck– I can't," you croaked out as your legs shook from the stronger vibrations, every limb of your body feeling limp. You felt like you were melting into the mattress, all your energy having evaporated through your previous orgasms.

"Yeah you can. You're almost there" she raised an eyebrow as she looked up at you sinking the back of your head in the pillows, lewd squelching sounds of your juices every time she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

That packed vibrator you had found while on patrol was equally a blessing and a curse, and you should have known that that smug smile Ellie shot you when she found out it still had batteries that happened to work would lead you here, in this exact situation. 

Not that it wasn't pleasant, but Ellie wanted to make the most of that small object, and your multiple orgasms were the proof of that.

Your back started arching as she started drawing circles with the tip of the vibrator, biting down on her bottom lip as she drank in the sight of you being so sweaty and so damn wrecked because of her. Her gaze dropped back to your exhausted cunt, working to angle her expert fingers just right inside you.

You mouth dropped open in a strangled gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the pleasure from the vibrations on your clit and her fingers grazing that spongy spot inside of you expanded through your whole body like a warm liquid running through your veins, your heart rapidly thumping in your ribcage as she helped you ride out your high, keeping the same pace and same spot with her fingers and same pressure and pattern on your clit.

She withdrew when it seemingly became too much, your cunt softly twitching as you came down from your high once more, labored breaths and a breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

"One more?" she asked, challengingly cocking an eyebrow, holding up the small object still vibrating. 

You reached and squeezed her wrist in panic, quickly snatching the vibrator with your other hand from hers with the last ounce of strength left in you, earning a laugh from her.

"Okay. You did good" she muttered, leaning to leave a kiss at the inside of your thigh. "One last thing" she hovered over you, presenting her ring and middle finger to your face. You tilted your face up and took them in your mouth, sucking them clean and tasting your own juices, tongue wrapping around them.

"Good girl." she smirked as she withdrew her fingers from your mouth.

She brushed away the damp hair sticking to your forehead, making room to press a kiss there, your eyes closing from exhaustion.

—

don't forget to reblog, it helps a lot<3

@flightlessangelwings

[doawks]

i. cologne, choi seungcheol.

Oh baby, just leave the scent of your cologne Leave the scent of your cologne.

pairing. seungcheol x f!reader. genre. established relationship, smut.

smut warnings below! ❤︎ | not proof read :-)

warnings. oral (f), dirty talk, mean-ish!dom!seungcheol, unprotected sex, edging, degradation kink.

He has your knees folded to your chest—pushed down forcefully on your breast. Seungcheol shows you no mercy as his pink tongue explores the inside of your velvety cunt with no set back. The tip of his tongue occasionally prods at your pulsing entrance—nonverbally begging for anything to stuff your pussy full. At the cost of his tongue fucking, all you could do was whimper and whimper, falling on Seungcheol’s deaf ears. He had your panties—which were coated in your arousal, now as well as your saliva—in your mouth; beforehand telling you how nasty girls didn’t deserve to speak.

His veiny index finger traces your clenching hole, before sliding his digit into you completely. You felt so tight around him, so warm — your little pussy sucked his finger up entirely. Imagine if it were his cock. “Doesn’t matter how many times I fuck this needy cunt, it’s just always gonna be tight, hm?”

Your mouth is stuffed, however Seungcheol can hear a faint, muffled “Please” from you under the squelching sounds of your cunt, although he isn’t sure what you’re begging for, but it’s not like he cares anyway.

So, he ignores your pleas and brings his lips back down to lap at your clit. Seungcheol’s fingers work their way deeper into your dripping wet pussy, teasing your g-spot with expert precision. Your legs tremble beneath him as he pushes himself further inside you, stretching you open wider than ever before.

As he flicks his tongue against your swollen clit, you can feel yourself approaching the edge of climax once more. Seungcheol knows exactly what he’s doing — he wants to bring you to the brink only to leave you hanging there, helpless and aching for more.

Your back arches off of the bed in need of something—anything. Tears fill the brink of your lashline, a singular blink causing them to drip down your cheeks.

Seungcheol, pulling away from your pussy and sitting himself up on his knees, tilts his head in mock concern. He brings a hand forward to cup your cheek, which was warm underneath his touch, “What’s the matter, angel?” He fully waits for answer until he remembers that your sticky panties were still in your mouth. Seungcheol lets out an breathy chuckle before removing the damp material.

As soon as you’ve regained the ability to speak, you’re pleading for Seungcheol to finally fuck you. He’s had his tongue on your abused pussy for hours straight — you need his cock.

“What a dumb little slut,” Seungcheol mutters whilst pulling down his sweatpants as well as boxers. His cock then springs free and he’s gripping it tightly, precum dripping from his reddened tip. He scoots closer to your awaiting cunt, tapping the head against you softly, “You will never be satisfied until I’m fucking you stupid, huh? Just wanna be full of cock and filled to the brim with my cum so you forget what it feels like to be empty.”

Slowly, Seungcheol leans forward, his lips hovering just above yours as he whispers, “Since you wanna be a cock hungry whore all the fucking time - you’re going to keep these legs spread and take my dick with no complaints, you understand?”

Your body shivers in anticipation at Seungcheol’s words, but you nod nonetheless, murmuring, “Yes, I understand.”

At your response, Seungcheol wastes no time before he’s pushing into your tense pussy — a deep groan emitting from his lips. His thrust are slow and steady at first, giving you time to adjust to his girth. He watches as your face contorts from pain to pleasure, taking that as a sign to speed up his movements. Your broken moans fill the room, and Seungcheol can’t help but grin wickedly, feeling like the king of the world as he watches your body writhe beneath him. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before sucking the flesh into his warm mouth, then releasing it with a pop. “How’s it feel?”

“Good! So good..”

“Yeah, thought so. Moaning my name like a bitch in heat.” He chuckles to himself, cupping your cheeks with one hand and kissing your pouted lips.

He increases the pace of his thrusts, listening attentively to your whimpers of how you were close. He can’t help but revel in the power he has over you, knowing that he’s the one bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point.

Your entire body is on fire, your stomach tightening — hinting to your approaching orgasm. “C—cheollie..”

“Shh, baby, let it all out for me. Cream my cock like a good little slut.” he encourages, feeling the tension building within you. He reaches between your legs, stroking your clit with one hand while using the other to pinch and tease your nipples, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. The combination of sensations threatens to overwhelm you entirely, and you can’t help but cry out loudly as your climax advents.

When it finally hits, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before — intense and overwhelming, leaving you gasping for air and trembling in his grasp. As the last vestiges of ecstasy fade away, Seungcheol slows down, still buried deep inside you, savoring the moment you two just shared together. His head lags forwards, lips instantly attaching themselves to the skin on your shoulder. “Did so good for me, baby.”

[deardaichi]

for @oligbia <3 | event masterpost

you barely get the lid off the tupperware before mirio's voice cuts across the beach like a spotlight:

“see?! i told you!”

you glance up just as he slings an arm around you from behind, his grin already in full force as he turns toward your friends like he’s presenting undeniable proof of how lucky he is.

“look at this. cut-up oranges. cold. perfect. my sweetheart brings ‘em every single time.” he picks one out and holds it up dramatically. “this is love. this is commitment. this is expert-level fruit peeling.”

you hear nejire snort from her towel. “you’re so dramatic.”

“am i wrong?” he calls back, before turning to you again, voice softer. “you always take care of me.”

he says it with his whole chest — like it’s a point of pride, like it’s not just about oranges but every quiet thing you’ve done for him without ever needing to be asked.

you lean in just a little as he grabs another slice. there’s sand stuck to his legs and his hair’s still damp from swimming, pushed back in soft waves. his cheeks are pink from the sun, and he looks at you like you hung the sky yourself.

“i should marry you,” he mumbles, mouth full of citrus.

“you should slow down.”

he presses a loud, sticky kiss to your cheek in response and beams. “never.”

someone’s mimosa topples a few feet away—overturned by a rogue volleyball—and mirio just laughs, waving it off before popping another orange in his mouth. “you’re the best, sweetheart. they don’t even know how lucky i am. you don't know how much i love and appreciate you.”

you do. but it’s still nice to hear.

and as the sun burns a little lower and the tide pushes soft foam across your feet, mirio leans into your side and sighs like he’s never been more full.

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

[blueiscoool]

Roman Fort Defended by Wooden Stakes Discovered in Germany

For the first time, archaeologists have discovered well-preserved sharpened wooden stakes used to deter attacks from enemies at an ancient Roman military camp from the first century CE.

Researcher Frederic Auth from Frankfurt’s Goethe University discovered the spikes at an excavation site in the German town of Bad Ems.

Installations of these martial-looking wooden structures, comparable to modern barbed wire and metal bird spikes, have been referenced in literature and by Julius Caesar. But prior to Auth’s discovery, none had been found.

Experts believe the military had a presence at the site specifically because of the Romans’ investment in the lucrative precious metal mining operation there, which would need defense against sudden raids for the valuable raw material. But Goethe University archaeology professor Markus Scholz said further research is necessary to verify this theory.

The university’s archaeology department has been overseeing a multiyear excavation project in the area focused on the Roman search for silver ore in the 1st century CE and the establishment of two military camps.

A hunter’s observations of color differences in a grain field, a sign of subsurface structures, triggered the excavations in 2016. A drone photo found a track crisscrossing the field that was actually a double ditch, framing a Roman camp. The spikes were preserved through the area’s damp soil.

According to a statement from the university, geomagnetic prospecting later revealed a 20-acre military camp with about 40 wooden towers.

Auth also led a student team to discover a smaller military camp made of wood that held approximately 40 men, located two kilometers away.

Notably, the spiked wooden defense structure was discovered on the second-last day of the team’s excavations, along with a coin minted in 43 CE. The coin was proof that the military structure could not have been built in connection with ancient Roman fortifications known as the Limes, which were built around 110 CE.

By Karen K. Ho.

[cathkaesque]

The thing I hate so much about institutions now is that you have to completely self diagnose both the issue and pathway and yell about it without compromising in order to get anything done. Which often doesn't work, because I am not an expert in damp proofing or my digestive system, doctors and the landlord are meant to be the experts, and I might get this wrong and they'll use this as a weapon to not do anything, but if you go to them saying "hey there's this problem can you help me work it out" they'll just shrug their shoulders and say it's probably your own fault. It sucks so much.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 344. brb x oc

a/n: short one, sorrry. tumblr kinda drained me tonight (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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-

She’s lying in bed with the pillow under her foot as Rooster turns the bathroom light off, rubbing his damp hair with a towel before tossing it into the hamper with his sweatpants low on his hips, hip bones showing and smile brightening when he sees she’s still awake, “Hey.” he coos, slowly crawling on the bed and lying on his stomach next to Bea, “Thought you’d be asleep, is your ankle hurting?”

Beatrice turned her gaze toward Rooster, a soft smile playing on her lips as he settled beside her. "Hey," she greeted, the fatigue evident in her eyes but warmth still present in her voice. "I thought I'd wait up for you."

Rooster grinned, his fingers reaching out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you did. How's the ankle feeling?"

She shifted slightly, wincing just a bit. "Better, thanks to you. The ice and the rest did wonders."

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. "Good to hear. You've got to take care of yourself, you know."

"Well, I do like having you here doing that too…" She reached out, running her fingers through his damp hair. "How was your shower?"

"Refreshing," he replied, his eyes flickering with contentment. "I needed that after a long day."

“You could’ve let me help with some things.” she whispered, lying on her side with care, making sure she doesn’t hurt herself even more, supporting her cheek on her arm so she could look at him better “I could dry stuff up.”

Rooster grinned, propping himself up on his elbow to be closer to Beatrice. "You know, I wouldn't mind a little assistance. Could use some help with the hard-to-reach spots, you know?"

Beatrice chuckled, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, is that so? Well, it just so happens that I'm an expert at hard-to-reach spots."

Rooster raised an eyebrow, "Is that a fact? Well, in that case, I might need your expert services."

She laughed, teasing him with a coy smile and poking his chest. "You'll have to earn it, LC."

Rooster pretended to look offended. "Earn it? What happened to unconditional love and support?"

"Unconditional love, yes. But as for support, I might need some proof of your commitment to the cause."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. "Proof, huh? I think I can provide that."

Their kiss was tender,a giggle escaping her lips as he wraps his arms around her waist. As they pulled away, Beatrice traced her fingers along the line of his jaw. "You're impossible," she said, her voice soft but filled with affection.

Rooster grinned, giving her a quick peck on the nose. "Guilty as charged."

They lay there for a moment, the room filled with a comfortable silence. The only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of the sheets. Beatrice's gaze drifted to the photos adorning the walls, the ones she could see from the bedroom that is, the ones on the hallway.

"Roos," she began, her tone thoughtful, "do you ever look at these pictures and just... marvel at how far we've come?"

Rooster followed her gaze, his eyes scanning the images that told the story of their journey over his shoulder. "Yeah, I do.” he chuckles “ Sometimes it feels like a dream, you know?."

She nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "It's crazy to think about where we started. Back then I never imagined we'd build this life together." she whispers, drawing shapes on his bare chest and sighing quietly, “...I am very thankful.” she says, “For you, you know?”

Rooster shifted, turning to face her fully, his expression softening with affection. "I feel the same way, Bea. To be honest, I’ll never not thank whatever deity is responsible for making me go to the Hard Deck that night."

She smiled, her fingers continuing their gentle exploration on his chest. "I'm grateful that our paths crossed." she chuckles, “Sounds cheesy, doesn’t it?”

Rooster snorted, his eyes tracing the curves of her face. "’S not, it’s sweet. You are sweet…. Sometimes I still wonder what I did to deserve you."

"You just had to be you, Roos. That was more than enough."

He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her arm. "Well, then I count my blessings every day." he says, “Because holy shit am I lucky. I’m very lucky.” he says and then holds his head up with a hand, “...I’m just…satisfied. With life.” he pauses, “...when I was younger, when my mom started to get sick, fuck– I wanted to do everything so fast.”

Fast hours.

Fast fights.

Fast relationships.

“Now I…I like this slow tempo.” he mutters, “And it feels unreal at the same time, like i’m floating around.” he hums, still rubbing her arm, “...and I’ll be promoted in a few weeks and I still feel like time is moving slow and it doesn’t bother me.”

Beatrice listened to Rooster's reflection, her fingers now tracing absent-minded patterns on his skin.  She smiled, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. "I like this slow tempo too, Roos. It gives us time to appreciate the little things—the quiet mornings, the laughter of our kids, and the simple joy of being together."

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Exactly. And I don't mind floating around in this unreal happiness with you."

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You are so cute.” she giggles, “Stop it.”

And he just smirked, “I shan’t.” he kisses her cheek over and over, ‘I’m going to keep doing it because I love your reactions.”

Beatrice laughed, the sound ringing in the room like a melody. "Well, if that's your secret plan, Roos, then consider it a success. You've got the magic touch."

Rooster grinned, twirling one of her strands on his index finger. "Magic touch, huh? I like the sound of that. Maybe I should patent it." He continued to pepper her face with kisses, his touch light and affectionate. "Anything for you, gorgeous. You're my priority, always."

She laughs softly,hugging his neck but Beatrice couldn't help but reflect on the journey that led them to this moment—filled with twists, turns,...too many if you asked her.

"Do you ever think about the 'what-ifs'?" she asked, her tone turning thoughtful.

Rooster paused, his lips still lingering on her cheek. "What-ifs? Like, what if we hadn't met?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "or” she shrugs “what if we made different choices along the way?"

He hummed, deep in thought, deep voice vibrating in his throat . "I try not to dwell on the 'what-ifs.' I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Beatrice smiled, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his back. "I feel the same way. Sometimes I wonder about the alternate realities where we didn't cross paths, but then I realize how grateful I am for our reality." she frowns, “Am I making sense?”

“You are.” he shifted, hugging her close . "It was fate, then?"

She shrugged,pursing her lips. "Well,according to my aunt, yes.” she laughs softly, “She did say we were intertwined, meant to meet, meant to be together.” she mutters, “...feels crazy sometimes I guess.” her eyes turn to meet his "I never thought I'd find someone who completes me in the way you do," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Rooster's eyes softened, a warmth spreading across his features. on his cheeks especially and his eyes squeezed when he smiled. "You gonna make me blush,gorgeous.” he whispers “That’s so romantic. You're the missing piece I never knew I needed."

Beatrice blushed, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. "Smooth talker. Is that your secret Navy training?"

Rooster feigned innocence, a playful glint in his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Must be the natural charm."

She laughed, a melodic sound that filled the room. "I can't argue with that." 

“Alright, now,” and he sits on the bed, “Let’s check your ankle, come on, before we both fall asleep.”Rooster gently guided Beatrice to sit at the edge of the bed, his hands supporting her as she settled comfortably. He retrieved the ice pack from her ankle, checking the swelling and gently massaging the affected area.

"How's it feeling now?" he inquired, his gaze filled with concern.

Beatrice sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "Better, actually. Your magical touch seems to be working wonders."

He grinned, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around her ankle. "Well, you know, Navy secret techniques." 

Beatrice couldn't help but chuckle. " Do I get a certificate for being your favorite patient?" she teased.

Rooster pretended to ponder this, rubbing his chin with his brows furrowed. "Hmm, I'll have to check the Navy rulebook on that one. But I think you've earned a special mention at least." she winces when he rolls it a bit, and he gave her a sympathetic look, his touch gentle. "Sorry about that. Just checking the flexibility. Not too bad, I hope?"

Beatrice smiled through the mild discomfort, wincing more. "No need to apologize. It's a little sore, but I can handle it. It’s not as bad as before.”

He chuckled, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the thigh. "Good to know. We'll have you back on your feet in no time." he pauses, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You sure you are up for the game?” he asks quietly, “I know it’s not as bad but you hurt the same ankle before, gorgeous…you sure you’ll be okay to jump around and leap down if you have to?”

"I want to play, Roos," she said, her voice steady. "I miss it, I miss the girls too..Besides, it's been years since we played together, and I don't want to miss the chance."

Rooster studied her face, his gaze searching for any signs of reluctance. "I know gorgeous, and I want you to enjoy the game. But I also don't want you pushing yourself too hard. Your health comes first."

She nodded, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I promise I'll be careful, Roos. I won't do anything that might jeopardize my ankle. It's just a friendly game, after all."

He sighed, his concern evident. "Just don't hesitate to sit out if it starts hurting too much. Your well-being is more important than a game."

"I promise," she repeated, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Thank you for caring so much. It means the world to me."

Rooster smiled, his worry easing a bit. "Always, Bea. Now, let's focus on getting that ankle in top shape. We can't have our star player sidelined."

She laughed, the playful twinkle returning to her eyes. "Star player? Flattery will get you everywhere, Roos."

He winked, teasingly. "Just stating the facts, gorgeous."

"Speaking of the game," she began, "I wonder who else from our college days will be there. It's been so long since we caught up with everyone."

“You remember anyone? You don’t talk much about Northride besides what you let me know.”

Bea pursed her lips, ‘Not…that many people to be honest. I just hope it won't be too awkward with Thomas around. You know, after the encounter at the supermarket."

Rooster's expression shifted, a subtle frown appearing. "I know you said it was just a bad comment, but if he makes you uncomfortable, we can always keep our distance."

She appreciated his concern, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Roos. I can handle it. Besides, Evelyn and Shells will be there too, and they've got my back. It's just a friendly game, and I won't let him ruin it."

“Hm.”

“Roos.”

He sighed, nodding. "Alright, just promise me you'll let me know if anything bothers you. I don't want you dealing with unnecessary stress, especially not now."

"I promise," she said, leaning against him. "And thank you for always looking out for me."

Rooster wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Always, Bea. Now, let's get that ankle treated properly. “ he winks, “You’ll be okay gorgeous.”

[blackjackkent]

OK, back to the main quest for a bit. Next up is "Something Wrong," which means we're off to Hossberg again to hang with Antoine and Evka!

Fantastic. Let's go hit some horrible monsters.

Helena finds the Warden couple crouched in the atrium of a large stone building. Judging by the griffon statue out front, it's a Warden outpost, although like most of the Warden structures Helena has seen, it seems like it's seen better days.

"Rook!" Evka is leaning on the hilt of her greathammer, watching as Antoine fiddles with repairing some sort of metal contraption; she straightens up at the sound of Helena's footsteps entering the atrium. "Welcome to the Hossberg Wetlands. I'd say make yourself comfortable..."

She gestures around wryly, and Helena laughs. Comfort isn't really in the equation; the air is incredibly damp and cold, and rain patters on the mud outside.

"This place is..."

"Foreboding?" Evka finishes dryly.

"Yes. Well, foreboding is normal here," Antoine puts in with a low chuckle. "But it's worse than usual."

Evka nods. "The blight's always a problem in the Anderfels. It's not strange to find a corrupted patch of forest or swamp."

"What is strange," Antoine says, picking up the thread from his wife, "is the sudden surge of blight through the Hossberg Wetlands." He frowns, looking up to meet Helena's eyes. "Much like the village you found, the blight here struck too quickly, and in strange forms.

"It's choked the whole area," says Evka grimly. "And the local village, Lavendel, was caught in it." Her jaw works, but then she brightens a little as she adds, "But there's survivors. We can be grateful for that."

Helena's neck prickles at the thought of another place like D'Meta's Crossing, overrun by blight and dying inch by inch in that strange miasma. That was just her and Neve and Bellara and Harding, though; now, at least, they have experts on their side. "If there was a place that needed Wardens..." she says wryly.

"Then here we are," Evka says, calm, firm, straightening up and steadying her hands on the hammer hilt.

Antoine turns his attention back to the mechanism he's fiddling with - a metal globe wrapped in other metallic strips, a device Helena doesn't immediately recognize. "As far as we can tell," he goes on as he works, "the gods you're chasing weren't here directly."

Evka nods. "If the blight's really changed, then the changes are widespread. As for how much..."

Antoine frowns. His head lifts, cocking to the side slightly. "I... I can almost sense something in there. Another sound, under the blight's usual song."

(A/N: Uh oh.)

Helena blinks curiously. "Stories say Wardens sense blight. I never thought it was literal."

Wardens are one of those things talked about in the abstract in Minrathous, more myth than fact. Sure, they existed, and saved the world occasionally when the South got into another mess, but no one had ever met one or really expected to. So talking with Davrin, with Antoine and Evka, is little surreal.

Antoine pauses for a moment, looks sideways at Evka, and then shakes his head. "It happens when you join the order," he says quietly. "But that's more than I should say."

A troubled look flashes across Evka's eyes. "When we met, you tried to block the sound out," she says. "Now you hear too much."

(A/N: UH OH.)

Antoine is only a half-second late in plastering the casual smile back onto his face, but Helena can see the hesitation. "If it helps, that's what we're here for," he says firmly.

Some of the nuance of this conversation is lost on Helena; she's too busy thinking about the idea of facing yet another D'Meta's, with all that that implies. "Okay," she says wryly. "This all sounds awful. And we're standing in the middle of it. Which is normal for me."

Antoine laughs. "For us too."

"So what's the plan?" Helena asks.

"We heard rumors of the surge here and volunteered to investigate," Evka explains. "The First Warden expects a report."

"If we want proof the blight's changed," says Antoine, "then this place is where to find it."

Evka frowns. "But the way the blight left the village - we've had our hands full just keeping it back and helping the sick."

Helena nods slowly. "You need more to study."

"Yes!" Antoine smiles brightly. "The odd growths the blight has formed - like boils. They surround Lavendel. I need more samples."

"So you two study the blight?" Helena asks slowly.

Antoine shrugs. "Formally? No. Well, maybe. It depends on your definition."

"We travel a lot," says Evka. "And tend to get sidetracked by weird problems."

"Who knew I'd roam so far from Orlais?" Antoine says with a soft laugh, before looking back at Helena. "if we want to help, we need to learn what we're dealing with."

Helena thinks about the blight pustules she's encountered previously, and how much she has deeply NOT desired getting any closer to them. Another in the long string of things she is in no way qualified for that keep landing on her to-do list. "Samples. That's going to be... gross," she says sardonically. "That's probably the best word for it."

"I'll give you something to contain the blight," Antoine says, chuckling. "And watch for darkspawn out there."

Helena gives a dramatic wave of one arm, turning away and trotting towards the exit and the steady drizzle outside. "Right. Darkspawn! Can't forget them!"

"Good luck!" Evka calls after her.

Right, Helena thinks, shaking her head. I'll need it.

[onlineshop024]

Marc Anthony Grow Long Review. (Best Seller + 4.4/5 Rating)

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[hampsteademergencyglazing]

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[screens01]

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Damp 2 Decor

Damp 2 Decor is your best ally. With our extensive expertise in damp-proofing and house repair, we take great satisfaction in turning damp and wet areas into beautiful, long-lasting and moisture-free retreats.

From mould and structural damage to increasing Damp 2 Decor and fog, our skilled team tackles a variety of problems by fusing creative solutions with unmatched craftsmanship. Using state-of-the-art technology and environmentally safe materials, we guarantee long-lasting solutions that enhance your property’s aesthetics, usefulness and value.

We at Damp 2 Decor are aware of how dampness affects buildings and residents’ well-being. We provide specialised solutions to address your unique requirements because of this. Whether it’s a single room or the entire home, our meticulous approach guarantees that every facet of the issue is fixed.

We offer more than just damp-proofing. We revitalise your space by combining elegance and functionality, from expert painting and plastering to full interior design makeovers. To guarantee your pleasure at every stage, we offer free consultations, thorough evaluations and affordable prices as part of our dedication to openness.  For more visit us!

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Trusted Basement Waterproofing by J & D Waterproofing in Wheeling, WV

Looking for reliable basement waterproofing in Wheeling, WV? J & D Waterproofing offers expert services to keep your basement dry and secure. Get in touch today for a free consultation!

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5 Brutal Truths About Wine Cellar Temperature Every Aussie Wine Lover Must Know

You’ve bought the good bottles. You’ve invested in your collection. But here’s the raw truth, if you’re not getting your wine cellar temperature and cellar climate control right, your precious wine could be quietly going downhill—one degree at a time.

In Australia, where the climate can swing wildly from one coast to the next, proper wine storage isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. Whether you're a weekend sipper or a full-blown collector, understanding how to keep your wine in its prime is non-negotiable.

Let’s bust through the fluff and get real about what actually matters when it comes to storing your wine correctly.

1. Room Temperature is Ruining Your Reds

We’ve all heard that red wine should be served at room temperature—but that doesn’t mean it should be stored that way.

Room temp in most Aussie homes averages around 22–25°C, which is way too warm for long-term wine storage. The ideal wine cellar temperature is between 12°C and 14°C. Any warmer, and your wine will age too fast, lose its character, or worse—spoil completely.

If you’re storing wine in a kitchen cupboard, under the stairs, or even a garage, you’re playing with fire (literally, in summer).

2. Inconsistent Temperature is Just as Bad as High Temperature

It’s not just the heat—it’s the yo-yo effect that does real damage. Fluctuating temperatures cause the wine to expand and contract inside the bottle, putting stress on the cork. That leads to oxidation and a ruined drop.

A quality cellar climate control system is designed to keep temperatures rock-solid, all year round. No spikes, no dips—just steady, cellar-like perfection.

3. Humidity Can Make or Break Your Collection

Here’s something not enough Aussies consider: humidity. A dry environment causes corks to shrink, letting air sneak in. A damp environment breeds mould, which can ruin labels and even seep through the cork.

The sweet spot for cellar humidity sits around 60–70%. The best cellar climate control units (like those from Winemaster) don’t just manage temperature—they balance humidity too. It’s this microclimate that helps your wine age gracefully, not prematurely.

4. Not All Wines Age the Same—So Why Store Them the Same?

White wines, reds, and sparkling all have different preferences. Reds are usually safe at 14°C, but whites and champagnes like it cooler—more like 10–12°C.

If you’re mixing varietals, consider a dual-zone climate system, which lets you set different temps for different wines. It’s a game-changer for collectors with diverse tastes.

5. Air Con : Cellar Climate Control

Don’t be fooled—your home air con is not a wine-saving solution. It might cool a room, but it’s not built to maintain low, consistent temperatures or manage humidity like a dedicated cellar system.

A proper cellar climate control unit is designed specifically for wine storage—keeping conditions stable regardless of whether it’s a dry Perth summer or a chilly Hobart winter.

Final Pour: Get It Right, or Risk the Drop

At the end of the day, you’re not just storing bottles—you’re preserving stories, memories, and investments. And that requires more than a dark room and a hope for the best.

If you’re serious about wine, you need to be serious about wine cellar temperature and climate control. It’s not a maybe—it’s a must.

Want to future-proof your collection? Invest in the right system, get the temperature dialed in from an expert, and let your wine reward you in flavor, body and brilliance—year after year.

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Mechanical Polished Concrete: The Ultimate Flooring Solution for Durability & Aesthetic Appeal

What is Mechanical Polished Concrete?

Mechanical polished concrete is a high-performance, low-maintenance flooring system created by grinding and polishing a concrete surface using industrial-grade diamond abrasives and advanced polishing machinery. Unlike topical coatings or sealants, this process refines the concrete itself, resulting in a smooth, glossy, and durable finish that can last for decades.

Key Benefits of Mechanical Polished Concrete

1. Extreme Durability

Mechanical polished concrete is one of the hardest and most wear-resistant flooring options available. Ideal for high-traffic areas, it resists abrasions, impacts, and chemical spills.

2. Low Maintenance

Thanks to its sealed, smooth surface, this flooring requires minimal upkeep. Simple dust mopping and occasional damp mopping are enough to keep it looking new.

3. Cost-Effective Over Time

While the upfront cost may be higher than traditional concrete sealers, the long-term savings in maintenance and replacement make mechanical polishing a cost-effective solution.

4. Eco-Friendly

Mechanical polishing uses the existing concrete slab, eliminating the need for additional materials. It also improves ambient lighting by enhancing surface reflectivity, which can reduce energy consumption.

5. Aesthetic Versatility

From matte to high-gloss finishes, polished concrete can be customized to suit any design style. You can also add dyes or aggregates for a unique, decorative appearance.

Where to Use Mechanical Polished Concrete

Commercial Spaces: Malls, retail stores, warehouses, and offices benefit from the durability and modern look.

Industrial Facilities: Resistant to forklifts, heavy machinery, and chemicals, it’s ideal for factories and distribution centers.

Residential Homes: Offers a sleek, contemporary vibe perfect for kitchens, living rooms, and basements.

Educational & Healthcare Facilities: Low maintenance and hygienic qualities make it a smart choice for schools and hospitals.

The Mechanical Polishing Process

Surface Preparation: Remove existing coatings, debris, and imperfections.

Grinding: Use industrial diamond grinders to expose and refine the concrete surface.

Densifying: Apply a liquid hardener (densifier) that penetrates the concrete to strengthen and dust-proof the surface.

Polishing: Polish with finer grits until the desired sheen is achieved.

Sealing/Burnishing: Optionally, apply a protective guard for enhanced stain resistance and gloss.

Mechanical Polished Concrete vs. Other Flooring Options

Feature

Polished Concrete

Epoxy Flooring

Tiles

Vinyl

Durability

★★★★★

★★★★☆

★★★☆☆

★★☆☆☆

Maintenance

Low

Medium

Medium

High

Aesthetics

Modern, Customizable

Glossy, Bold

Traditional

Variable

Lifespan

20+ Years

5–10 Years

10–15 Years

5–7 Years

Eco-Friendliness

High

Moderate

Low

Low

Final Thoughts

Whether you’re updating a commercial space or creating a modern home interior, mechanical polished concrete is a smart, sustainable, and stylish flooring solution. Its unmatched durability, low maintenance, and aesthetic flexibility make it a top choice for architects, builders, and property owners alike.

Need Professional Mechanical Polished Concrete Services?

If you’re ready to transform your floors with a premium polished concrete finish, contact our expert team today for a free quote and consultation.