#Bottle Cleaning and Washing Machine

[brothersind3]

External Air Jet Bottle Cleaning and Washing Machine Manufacturer 

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[seppasolution11]

The Ultimate Solution for Sterilizing Bottles and Containers in Laboratories, Pharmaceuticals, and Beverage Industries

Whether they be from the laboratory or pharmacy sectors or beverage manufacturing companies, ensuring the sanitation of their manufactured bottles and containers is what any true professional would strive for. Due to the huge numbers of containers being used in such sectors, just washing and cleaning them becomes impractical and inefficient. The Old methods of washing are water-exhaustive and extremely time-consuming, leading to increased operational costs.

Seppa Solutions has designed a truly modern multi-function glass bottle washer. It works wonders when it comes to sterilizing bottles, saving water, and optimizing energy efficiency. This article is all about what makes our advanced bottle washing machine the top investment for your industry, as well as how this guarantees hygienic, environmentally friendly, and economical bottle cleaning.

Why Manual and Outdated Machines Fail in Industrial Bottle Sterilization

Here are some of the downsides associated with manual washing or old machines for industries handling large volumes of bottles:

            •Water Wastage – Traditional bottle washing methods waste thousands of liters of water daily.

            •Cleaning Inconsistency – All contaminants cannot be removed through any manual washing process, resulting in hygiene issues.

             •Labor Cost Increase – Manual washing requires a huge amount of manpower, increasing operational costs.

             •Time Consumption – Manually washing thousands of bottles or using conventional machines slows down production.

Introducing the Seppa Solutions Multi-Function Glass Bottle Washer

Our sophisticated bottle washing machine has been specially designed to tackle all of these problems, based upon advanced technology, precision engineering, and eco-designed operations. Here is one reason among the many others why our multi-function bottle washer is different:

1. Highly Water-Energy Efficient

Water Recycling System- The machine has a built up with highly efficient water recycling-to-reuse filtered water at various washing stages reducing water wastage.

Energy Regeneration- Innovative Heat Recovery System makes and uses minimal steam and water which in turn makes the machine extremely energy efficient.

Environmentally-friendly Construction- Unlike these conventional types, this optimizes every drop of water and unit of energy which contributes to sustainable industrial practices.

2. Superior Sterilization and Hygiene Standards

High-Pressure Jet Sprays – The washer uses high-pressure sprays that can reach the most intricate areas of the bottles, ensuring total sterilization.

Multi-Stage Cleaning – The machine incorporates pre-rinse, chemical wash, high-temperature rinse, and final sterilization, eliminating any contaminations.

Automatic Drying – Built-in drying ensures bottles dry perfectly and stay free of residual moisture, which prevents bacterial growth.

3. Flexible Compatibility for Bottle Sizes

Accommodate Bottles Height Up to 1 Liter – The washer is designed for large bottle sizes versatility and efficiency, thus finding applicability in pharmaceuticals, beverages, and laboratories.

Handles a Variety of Materials – Cleaning glass, PET, or any specialized container is guaranteed with maximum possible cleaning.

4. High-speed and cost-effective operation

Bulk Cleaning Capacity- The machine washes hundreds of bottles per cycle, greatly reducing cleaning time.

Reduced Labor Dependency- These fully automated functions reduce costly manual labor just for cleaning processes.

Minimal Maintenance- With self-cleaning functions, the machine is built for sustained efficiency while needing only minimal maintenance.

5. User-Friendly Application of Smart Technologies

Touchscreen Control- An easy-to-use digital interface that allows the operator to adjust settings with ease.

Programmable Cleaning Cycles- Cleaning programs can be customized to provide optimum results according to the needs of a specific industry.

Automatic Fault Detection- Smart sensors can detect faulty operations and notify users, providing for uninterrupted performance with least possible downtime.

Applications Across Industries

Pharmaceutical and Laboratory Industry

In pharmaceutical manufacturing and R&D laboratories, sterile conditions are imperative. Our Seppa Solutions bottle washer provides pharmaceutical-grade sterilization, free from contamination hazards.

Beverage Industry

From bottled water factories to soft drink and alcohol bottling plants, sanitizing bottles completely before filling is a prime consideration. Our machine ensures residue-free, sanitized bottles, upholding product purity and consumer protection.

Cosmetic and Chemical Industry

Chemical and cosmetic industries need sterile bottles to maintain product integrity. This equipment is perfect for sanitizing bottles used for chemical solutions, serums, and lotions.

Why Seppa Solutions?

Experience spanning decades – We have been innovators of industrial bottle washing and sterilization solutions.

State-of-the-Art and Dependable Technology – Our equipment is designed with the latest water treatment and sterilization technologies.

Outstanding After-Sales Support – Our experienced team offers installation support, training, and regular maintenance assistance.

Last Thoughts: The Best Investment for Your Business

Investing in a high-quality bottle washing machine is a game-changer for industries requiring sterile, clean containers. The Seppa Solutions Multi-Function Glass Bottle Cleaner provides water and energy efficiency, top-speed performance, cost efficiency, and industry-high levels of hygiene. Whether you operate in the pharmaceutical, beverage, cosmetics, or laboratory segments, this machine will streamline your operations while providing the utmost level of sanitization and sustainability.

[shangnuomachine-blog]

double clamp Pharmaceutical bottle washing machine vial bottle cleaning ...

[kingkaisen]

do you still take requests for scenarios with your dad!gojo fics? if you are, can i pretty please request gojo wanting alone time with reader all day but the three kids (well, two teenagers) keeps cockblocking unintentionally (like always wanting reader's assistance or attention whenever gojo makes a move on reader lol) thank you! ♡

ALONE TIME? || 彡

SATORU G.

♡ — SUMMARY: You & Satoru have adopted two teenagers, Yuji and Megumi. Along with that, you both have a young biological daughter. Sometimes, your household can get a little chaotic, and Satoru can’t seem to get any alone time with you.

♡ — CONTENT: 18+ ONLY // MDNI || suggestive, tiny bit of smut. reader’s busy and whatnot, gojo’s pouty and lovesick (:

♡ — WORD COUNT: 1K

♡ — AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is part of my Dad!Gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary!

The Saturday morning that followed what had been a chaotic week for the Gojo household would be one dedicated to cleaning your messy home — you swore upon it.

However, Satoru was not making it easy.

Your husband was helping out — sure. He wiped down the kitchen island and scrubbed the dirty stovetop after spraying it with a bottle of multipurpose cleaner.

However, he also decided to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off the veins in his arms . . . the muscles that flexed with every stroke of his cleaning rag . . .

Today might have been a cleaning day, but Satoru personally had plans to mess up any room he could catch you alone in.

— ♡ —

Another dirty t-shirt was sprayed with stain remover before being tossed in the washing machine. You were almost done with prepping the dark load of clothes.

It was rather humorous how, when you grabbed Satoru’s zip-up jacket out of the basket, your dear husband was walking through the laundry room door as if you had summoned him.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who was walking through the door, not only because you knew how every family member’s footsteps sounded, but because Satoru was quick to shut the door, approach you from behind, and wrap his arms around your waist.

“When you’re finished with that load, I have another load waiting for you,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, when did you come up with that joke? Either way, it’s too bad, ‘cause I already stripped the bed and washed the sheets,” you gave a soft giggle as Satoru pressed his hard bulge against you.

He trailed kisses along the side of your neck.

“Who said we needed a bed? We have the folding station,” he paused, his large hands rubbing your hips, “the top of the washing machine, the floor-”

Three knocks interrupted Satoru. You two quickly separated, scattering like bugs as Yuji opened the door.

“Mom?” Yuji walked in, a guilt-ridden look on his face.

Whatever currently troubled the teenager was enough of a distraction to make him unaware of the sudden odd behavior you and Satoru were displaying, as he didn’t even notice that you were folding dirty laundry and Satoru was pretending to stare at a picture on the wall.

“What is it, hun?”

“Me and Megumi were trying to clean one of the bathrooms, and uh, the door got jammed. He’s stuck.”

You sighed softly. Not again.

“Babe, will you . . .” you turned around to face Satoru. You gestured towards the laundry as you started to follow Yuji out the room, indicating for him to finish putting the load in the washing machine.

“I got it,” Satoru said, though he couldn’t help but groan with great annoyance.

This was, without a doubt, not the kind of load he had in mind.

— ♡ —

There were quite a few different words one could use to describe Satoru Gojo; said words changed drastically depending on who you asked. However, if there was one word that could sum up your husband today, it was persistent.

Oh, and, perhaps, pouty, as he was currently sprawled out across the couch, his lips pulled into a little frown.

Being that it was a beautiful Saturday and your family managed to wrap up cleaning time a little ways past noon, he was certain that Maya, your young daughter, would want to have a playdate with her best friend, and Megumi and Yuji would go roam around town with their friends, sipping on sodas and spending their hard-earned mission money on movie tickets, junk food, and whatever gadgets or knick-knacks teenagers were into these days.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Not only did his dear daughter want to spend the day at home, but his sons too. And those sons of his invited some of their friends over as well.

Ordinarily, Satoru would have been fine with that decision. After all, your household tended to follow an “open door” policy — because Jujutsu High School sucked, the few students he had with living family members had ones that sucked, and this world? Well, it sucked too.

That left those traumatized teenagers without anyone to truly love or care for them when they were in need, and damn it all, Satoru wouldn’t stand for it. You wouldn’t stand for it. Therefore, those kids knew they could always come to you and Satoru whenever they wanted.

So, here Satoru was, opening his front door and stepping to the side to make way for Nobara, Toge, Maki . . . just how many teenagers were strolling through his door?

“Sure you guys just don’t want a house key at this point?” Satoru mumbled sarcastically, scratching his head.

“Sounds like a great idea,” you replied, though he was talking to his students. You were wiping your hands on a kitchen towel, smiling warmly at the group filling the foyer. “We better get on that, Satoru. I’ve been thinking they should be able to come and go as they like.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gojo,” Nobara grinned, then turned her head, giving Satoru a playful glare.

Satoru shut the door with a sigh, but he couldn’t help but smile a little. That unmistakable kindness — that caring nature — was one of the many reasons he fell in love with you all those years ago.

Resting his hand on Yuta’s head and ruffling his hair, Satoru looked at you and said, “I know where this is going. I’ll look for a bigger house so they can move in.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Sweetheart, I’m joking.” Satoru ran his large hand across his face. He approached you, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Hold on,” you turned your head over your shoulder to face the teenagers as your husband started to drag you away. “Megumi and Yuji are upstairs, there’s lunch in the kitchen if anyone’s hungry, what else, what else? Oh, Toge, I fixed the hole in your uniform. Maki, I-”

“Yeah, yeah, they get it, you love them,” Satoru interrupted.

Once you both made it down a hallway and the group was no longer within your line of sight, you looked at the back of Satoru’s head, frowning, though he couldn’t see it.

“Why are you dragging me?”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll start baking cookies, or brushing someone’s hair, or rearranging our closet,” Satoru led you to the guest bedroom, pausing to listen as he heard the beat of various footsteps headed upstairs — far enough away. “And there’s something else you need to do right now.”

“And what’s that?” You asked.

He twisted the door open.

“Fuck me, of course,” Satoru pulled you into the guest bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. “What a dumb question.”

“That’s all I’m good for in your eyes, hm?” You said playfully with a little smile.

“Hush, you’re good for a lot of things and you know it,” Satoru approached you. He leaned down, planting a kiss along your neck. “One of them just happens to be sucking me off.”

He kissed your jaw, mumbling, “damn it, I love you.”

Oh, he was needy. Just as desperate as he was in the laundry room that morning, if not more.

Because of that, it didn’t take long for you both to find yourselves half-naked, sprawled out across the comforter. Satoru climbed over you. He kissed every part of your skin that his lips could reach right now — your lips, neck, jaw, collarbones, and chest.

And your chest was where his lips lingered. He gently sucked on your skin, lifting your back off of the bed slightly so he could remove your bothersome bra. You gripped his white hair, and your touch was enough to make his hard cock ache terribly with need.

But, just as he managed to unhook your bra, just as soft, sweet moans were falling from between your lips and filling his ears, someone knocked on the guest bedroom door.

“Maya wants everyone to play hide-and-seek,” Megumi announced from the other side.

“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “We’ll be right out, we’re just . . . cleaning up. Someone forgot to dust in here.”

“Okay,” Megumi mumbled back. He then walked away.

You started to get off of the bed, rehooking your bra.

“Sorry, honey. Maybe they’ll all settle down later on,” you said to Satoru, who was now lying on the bed, his head hidden underneath a pillow.

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out, all before rolling out of bed to toss his shirt back on.

— ♡ —

Satoru endured the world’s longest game of hide-and-seek. He watched you put Maya down for a nap. You then listened to a twenty-minute battle story the group of teenagers wanted to tell you. And, much as he predicted, you did end up baking cookies.

By the time you pulled that last tray of cookies out of the oven, Satoru was simply fed up.

You barely had enough time to turn off the oven before he — much like he did earlier — grabbed your wrist and started to drag you.

But he wasn’t taking you to the guest bedroom, or any room far enough away from the others.

You were sitting in the passenger seat of your car in the blink of an eye. Satoru whipped out of the driveway as fast as he could, ready to throw his money at a nice hotel room for just one night.

— ♡ —

Finally, he had you all to himself. He shot Megumi and Yuji a quick message:

We’ll be back tomorrow. Watch over Muffin. Your friends can spend the night there if they want. Brush your teeth before you go to bed.

Then, after tossing his phone on the nightstand, he finally was able to treat himself to his perfect wife. Oh, did he have so many plans for you.

Satoru was lovingly thrusting in and out of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he enjoyed your warmth. He was on the brink of an orgasm — god, he was in heaven. Heaven. — when suddenly, the hotel room’s phone started to ring.

You reached over to grab it despite his protests, answering with, “Hello?”

It was the front desk with a noise complaint.

🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos @cutieminaaa @bunheadusa @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @allopathi @roseyposeylemonsquozey @thequeenofcurses

[writersdrug]

I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):

ANGST TIME

He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?

"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".

Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!

He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.

"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."

"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."

"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.

You furrow your brow. "Huh?"

He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.

You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"

Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"

"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"

"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."

He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"

"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."

"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"

"I've got a date!"

"I've got my own shit too!"

You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.

Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.

Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.

You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"

"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."

You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.

Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.

You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.

Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.

"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"

His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.

Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.

Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.

[shyoko]

★ How ENHYPEN would react if you wore his clothes ★

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.)

¡~Heeseung☆~!

You were hiding behind the sofa when the front door made a noise, announcing Heeseung's arrival home.

When he came in and saw that all the lights were off, he assumed that you were already sleeping peacefully in your room, so he walked towards it, being careful not to make too much noise as he passed.

When he was about to open the door to the room, a small body jumped on his back, making him jump a little. But he quickly realized that it was you, so he relaxed instantly, and a sweet smile appeared on his lips.

He turned around to meet your face and bent down a bit, grabbing the sides of your face to give you a small kiss on the lips. Heeseung broke away for a few moments to turn on the light. A few seconds later, upon noticing what you were wearing, his eyes widened, as you were only wearing his oversized T-shirt that fell below your thighs.

"You look beautiful in my clothes, honey," he said sweetly, unable to take his eyes off your body. "I'm going to have to put my clothes somewhere more visible for you to wear."

After that day, Heeseung started occasionally leaving his clothes neatly folded on the bed or on the couch, waiting for you to put them on so he could enjoy the view again.

¡~Jay☆~!

Jay had spent almost an entire week locked up in the studio, forgetting to eat properly and only leaving when the streets were dark, illuminated solely by the streetlights.

Because of this, you prepared some food and placed it in a bag along with a bottle of water and a few snacks you knew he loved. With everything in hand, you walked through the streets until you reached the company where Jay spent so much time alone.

You had memorized the path to his studio from the countless times you had visited him. Standing in front of the door, you knocked softly.

"Come in," Jay's tired voice called from inside.

You entered the room calmly, setting the food down on the table before noticing the sweet expression on Jay's face. He stood up from his seat and carefully wrapped his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away. But as soon as he did, the loss of his warmth sent a chill through your body, causing you to shiver—something Jay didn't miss.

"Are you cold, my love?" he asked in that soft voice he reserved only for you.

You gave a small nod, making him smile. Without hesitation, he walked over to the couch where his favorite leather jacket was lying. He grabbed it and helped you put it on. A small laugh escaped him as he saw how oversized it looked on you.

"Hey! Don’t laugh at me," you said playfully.

"I'm not making fun of you, it's just funny how big it looks on you," he chuckled, making you frown.

"Don't be mad, I never said it looked bad on you… In fact, I don’t think there’s anything that could ever look bad on you."

You felt hundreds of butterflies flutter wildly inside you. He had no idea the effect those little words had on you.

¡~Jake☆~!

After a quiet and cozy movie night with Jake, it was time to head home—if it weren’t for the heavy storm that had started pouring down just a few minutes ago. Jake didn’t see this as a problem; in fact, he thought it was a good thing since it meant you’d be spending the night with him.

After tidying up the living room, you both got ready for bed. Luckily, you always kept a set of pajamas at his place for nights like this. Before anything else, you tossed your clothes into the washing machine so they could be cleaned in the morning and worn again.

The moment you slipped under the covers, a warm body wrapped around you carefully, radiating a sense of peace that made you drift off to sleep almost instantly.

The soft morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow on the parts of your body left uncovered. You turned to your side, only to find that the warmth that lulled you to sleep last night was no longer there. Stretching a little, you got up and walked toward the kitchen, where you spotted Jake making coffee—the special one he only prepared when you were around, as he claimed it was just for you.

You tiptoed behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, making him jump in surprise. He spun around so fast that some of the coffee spilled from the cup, landing on your pajama shirt.

"Jesus! You scared me! Are you trying to kill me or something?" he gasped, still catching his breath. But then his eyes widened when he saw the stain.

"Did you burn yourself?" he asked, now concerned.

"No, no, I’m fine. You just spilled a little," you reassured him.

Jake disappeared from the kitchen for a moment and returned holding one of his shirts.

"I know it's not a big deal, but you can wear this while your clothes get washed," he said, handing it to you.

After slipping it on, you were about to leave the room when you bumped into Jake, who was now looking at you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

"You know what? Keep it," he suddenly said.

"What?" you asked, confused by his unexpected offer.

"Because it looks way too good on you. And besides, this way, I’ll get to see you wearing it more often—not just today," he chuckled softly. "If I’m being honest, I don’t want this to be the last time I see you in my clothes."

¡~Sunghoon☆~!

You and Sunghoon were at a restaurant with some friends. After spending the evening strolling through the city’s new shopping mall, you had all agreed to grab dinner together. You ate calmly, laughing occasionally at the jokes being thrown around. Beside you, Sunghoon did the same, his hand resting casually on your thigh.

Once everyone had finished eating, you paid the bill and stepped outside. Night had fallen, and the temperature had dropped significantly. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and small shivers ran through your body. But you refused to admit you were cold—doing so would only give Sunghoon the satisfaction of teasing you. He had warned you about the cold and told you to dress warmly, but you had brushed him off.

You tried to ignore the freezing air and kept walking, your hand still intertwined with Sunghoon’s. The two of you wandered aimlessly, which was slowly killing you inside because all you wanted was to get home, change into your pajamas, snuggle into warm, fluffy blankets, and sleep until the next day.

"Can I ask you something?" Hoon whispered near your ear.

"He-huh? Yeah, of course," you answered, trying your best to keep your voice from trembling.

"Would you care to explain why your body is shaking, your hands feel like ice, and your voice is unsteady?" he asked again, his tone now dripping with amusement.

"I-I have no idea what you’re talking about," you said, quickly picking up your pace, slipping out of his grasp, and crossing your arms in an attempt to trap some warmth.

"Come on, sweetheart. If you admit I’m always right, I’ll give you my warm, cozy jacket," he teased, taking your hand and slipping it inside his jacket for a moment so you could feel just how warm it was.

You shook your head and turned away stubbornly.

"Oh, come on… I know you want it. Don’t be like that," he smirked.

The cold was starting to seep deep into your bones.

"Fine, you win. I’m really cold…"

"And…?" he prompted, clearly enjoying himself.

"And… you were right," you mumbled, frowning as Sunghoon burst into laughter.

Before you could say anything else, he had already slipped off his jacket. Moments later, warmth spread through your body as he draped it over your shoulders, wrapping it around you properly so it could shield you from the cold.

"I hope you’re warm now because I’m the one freezing," he chuckled.

Without thinking, you quickly unzipped the jacket, stepped in front of him, and stopped him in his tracks. You spread your arms wide, pulling him into a hug, wrapping both of you in the jacket’s warmth.

"I have a feeling we won’t make it home like this, but I appreciate it," he laughed softly, pulling away slightly.

You resumed your walk home, but just a few seconds later, he grabbed your wrist and leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

"Oh, and by the way… my clothes look really good on you."

¡~Sunoo☆~!

For a while now, the students at your university had been begging the professors to throw a party since the end of classes was fast approaching. The professors and the principal kept refusing, worried about how many people might show up or what could happen. But after countless attempts and some pretty clever persuasion tactics from the students, it finally happened—the party was set for tonight.

There was only one rule, aside from behaving properly and not bringing alcohol: a dress code that would distinguish each year. Each class was assigned a specific color, making it easier to identify who belonged where in case things got out of hand.

Your class got orange.

You were in your room, rummaging through every drawer, sending clothes flying in all directions, but still, no sign of anything orange. A surprised gasp escaped the lips of the person you assumed was Sunoo.

“What is this disaster?” he asked, eyes wide as he took in the scene—your room completely covered in scattered clothes, draped carelessly over the floor and furniture.

"You do realize I didn’t get an easy color like you, right? Red? Seriously? Why couldn’t I have gotten that?" Sunoo smirked as he crouched down, gathering your discarded clothes and folding them neatly before placing them back where they belonged.

“I just came to remind you that we have to leave in fifteen minutes… and well, you’re still not dressed,” he pointed out. Your eyes widened in horror.

"Sunoo, please tell me you have an orange shirt," you pleaded, sticking out your bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, clasping your hands together as if you were making a desperate wish.

"Hmm… I might have one. Hold on, I’ll grab it," he said before disappearing out the door.

When he returned, you felt all your worries fade away the moment you saw the orange T-shirt in his hands. A relieved smile spread across your lips.

"Sunoo, you’re a lifesaver!" you gasped, rushing over to him, cupping his face, and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Give me a second to change, and then we’ll head out,” you added, taking the shirt and shutting the door right in front of his now flushed face.

You paired his T-shirt with a skirt, white shoes, and a few accessories to complete your look. Grabbing your bag, you rushed out of your room.

"Alright, let’s go! I’m ready, and we’re running late!" you called, stepping outside.

A few seconds passed, but Sunoo still hadn’t followed you. You frowned and leaned back inside the house, peeking to see what was taking him so long.

"Baby, why are you just standing there? Let’s go!" you whined, stepping toward him to pull him along.

"You look…" he trailed off, scanning you from head to toe.

"I look…?" you prompted, raising a brow.

"Stunning," he murmured, his fingers gently lacing with yours. Then, with a small, almost bashful smile, he added, "If I had known my clothes looked this good on you, I would’ve given them to you way sooner."

¡~Jungwon☆~!

It was your first time going to one of Jungwon's concerts. A few days ago, the upcoming tour dates had been announced, and Jungwon had insisted that he would love for you to be there. Honestly, you were just as excited about it, so you gladly accepted.

With only a few days left until the concert, you were already picking out the perfect outfit. You spent the entire afternoon thinking about what to wear and searching for something you’d like until you came across a T-shirt that the members of Enhypen had worn. It had a picture of the boys on the back and a phrase printed across the top.

You immediately started searching for it online, determined to buy it. But after looking everywhere with no luck, you decided to call Jungwon and ask him about it. He suggested that you stop by the company so you could ask a staff member where to find it. You quickly agreed, hung up, got dressed, and headed out.

When you arrived, a smiling Jungwon was already waiting for you at the entrance, his arms open wide for the hug he had been anticipating. As his warm embrace wrapped around you, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Alright, shall we see if we get lucky?" he asked sweetly, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You nodded excitedly, letting him lead the way.

After asking around, you both came to the conclusion that the shirt was an exclusive item for the members and that they likely hadn’t made any extras. You felt a little disappointed, but you still smiled at Jungwon.

"It's okay, I’ll find something else to wear," you said casually.

"No way, I’m not giving up just yet. Wait here for a second, okay?"

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before disappearing into a room.

A few minutes later, he walked out with something hidden behind his back.

"What is it?" you asked curiously, tilting your head to try and catch a glimpse.

Then, with a wide grin on his lips, he pulled out the T-shirt from behind him. It was noticeably oversized, so you immediately assumed it was his.

"I love it… but wait, isn’t this yours? I don’t want you to feel like you have to give it to me," you said hesitantly.

Jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"Have to? Who do you take me for?" he scoffed. "I’m giving it to you because I want to. I’d love to see you wearing this at the concert, and I know how much you want it."

Before you could say anything else, he gently pushed you into an empty room and followed you inside.

"Come on, try it on," he urged.

You took off the shirt you were wearing and replaced it with his. The moment you did, his smile grew even bigger.

"I can’t wait for the concert so everyone can see you in my shirt," he murmured, staring at you in awe.

"Oh, and by the way," he added with a playful smirk, "it looks really good on you."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words.

¡~Ni-ki☆~!

One of Riki's favorite hobbies, besides dancing and playing video games, is taking various pieces of clothing from his closet and putting together outfits for the upcoming days.

You were walking down the street with a box of pastries in your hand, heading to Riki’s house to give him a little surprise. Once you reached his front door, you rang the doorbell, which was positioned on the right side of the entrance. A few moments later, a pajama-clad Riki opened the door with a bright smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, beaming.

“I bought some pastries, and I figured you’d probably hate me if I ate them all by myself,” you joked, holding up the box before stepping inside.

As usual, you headed straight to his room, but you froze in place when you saw his bed completely covered with clothes. Each piece was laid out strategically to form outfits—caps at the top, followed by shirts, pants, and finally, shoes neatly placed on the floor below them.

“Closet makeover?” you asked.

“Oh! No, I was just picking out what I’ll wear this week,” he replied casually.

“I didn’t know people planned their outfits days in advance just to go grocery shopping,” you teased, laughing.

“Shut up,” he said with a grin. “I actually enjoy doing this.”

He walked over to his carefully curated outfits and added, “Besides, I have to say, I have a real talent for this. But my style is unique—you wouldn’t understand. And honestly? You could never pull it off like I do.”

A burst of laughter escaped your lips.

“That’s not true! It would probably look even better on me.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged.

“Yeah.”

“Alright then, try this on.” He grabbed one of the outfits and placed it in your arms, daring you to prove your point.

“But Riki, this isn’t even my size,” you frowned.

“You said it would look better on you, didn’t you? Come on, let’s see it,” he smirked, ushering you into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you.

With a bit of reluctance, you changed into his clothes—which were way too big for you. The pants dragged across the floor, the oversized shirt nearly reached your knees, and the shoes… well, they were a lost cause. The only thing that actually fit was the adjustable cap.

After catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t stop laughing. And when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, Riki took one look at you and immediately burst into hysterical laughter, dramatically collapsing onto the floor as he clutched his stomach.

“Y-you look so ridiculous,” he wheezed between fits of laughter.

Once he finally calmed down, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you.

“At least you look adorable,” he chuckled.

“I think I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore,” you pouted.

Riki swiftly scooped you up in his arms.

“You should’ve thought about that before saying yes,” he grinned. “There’s no escape now.”

[sdmnpact]

"Is that my shirt?"

George Clarke x Reader ff

[] Good Friends with Arthur Hill

[] Arthur Hill invites you to film a drunk cooking videos, things get messy, and you end up in George's shirt.

~~~

"Hey you guys, I'm here with one of my best friends, Y/n!" Arthur pointed at you as you came into the frame waving your arms around. "Hey!! Thanks for inviting me!" You said cheerfully. "Glad you're here! So, today we're gonna be baking a cake BUT we're gonna be getting drunkkk!" He said in a singing song tone. "AND only one of us gets to see the recipe!" He said excitedly showing off the bottle and paper.

You were sorta of excited for this because you always enjoy a good drink with Hill. You two began getting everything in order, setting up the ingredients, shot glasses and cleaning the surfaces. "Okay lets begin." He said clapping his hands together.

You both started off with a shot each. You whinced as the liquid burned your throat. Arthur insisted that he give the instructions and you would mainly fix the ingredient proportions. "Okay pour all your dry ingredients~" he went on listing them as you tried pouring the correct measurements. "New rule! Each time you spill something, thats a shot! Aside from the 1 shot every 20 minutes!" He said in a matter of fact tone raising a finger.

You looked down at the giant mess of flour you made before he said that. "Oh thats just not fair!" You tried contending. "Drink up!" He semi shouted. You sighed as you poured yourself another shot, his eyes focused on you making sure you dont under pour. You poured it back whincing once again at the sensation. "Oh! Look at that, 20 minutes passed, another shot!" He said snickering to himself. You groaned as you poured two more shots.

After a while, you were starting to feel the effects, spilling more as you felt more tipsy. Arthur was getting noticeably drunker as well as you lot were just laughing and making a huge mess instead of making the cake and homemade frosting, well attempting to at least.

By the end of the video, the cake was a lopsided mess and you two were hammered. You were both covered in flour, your clothes somehow dripping with some liquid. "Ew, Arthur, do you have something I can wear?" You asked trying to pull your shirt off. "Oh yeah, give me a second." He said walking off down the hallway leaving you standing in the living room with a sports bra. He returned wearing some fresh clothes and tossed you a large tshirt. You quickly pulled it over yourself.

"Wanna stay here for the night then?" He said lazily as he plopped on the couch. "Sure, cant get an uber like this." You said pointing at yourself. "Im gonna throw my clothes in the wash" you said as he nodded.

You stumbled to the washer machine and took off your pants placing both your clothes inside turning it on. You were quite comfortable with Arthur, you guys tried dating a while back ago but you weren't right for each other. You guys became good friends after that and you frequently hang out. You're also somewhat good friends with his roommates but you dont hang out with them unless Arthur is there. He said they were out tonight so you shouldn't expect them home too soon. That was good news for you because you were just walking around in a large tshirt and underwear.

You were walking back towards the living room until you heard another voice. You slowly creeped around the corner and saw George. You felt yourself get nervous because you didn't want him to see you like that. Either way you were gonna have to walk out eventually. You walked towards the couch hoping he didnt notice how you were dressed.

"Oh hey Y/n! -Um, is that my shirt?" He asked. You turned to look towards him, he looked really nice. He had on a loose fitted shirt that revealed a lot of his chest and his hair was especially curly. "Oh- is it? My bad." Arthur said turning to face you then turning back towards the tv. You mentally scolded him for not telling you that it was George's shirt. "Im sorry, I can change if you'd like!" You said nervously.

"No- its alright. It actually looks better on you than me." He chuckled causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. "I thought you weren't gonna be here until later." You asked George, finally sitting on the couch near Arthur. He seemed sort of out of it and was focused on whatever was on the tv. "Yeah, it was sort of dead tonight so I thought I should just go home. Im glad I-" he stopped himself. "Yeah just wanted to come home." He finished, changing his words.

You found it slightly strange but chose to ignore it. "Well, do you wanna join us? Im staying over tonight so we were-" I paused and looked towards Arthur, who was struggling to stay awake. "Well we were going to watch movies but it looks like Mr. Hill here, can't handle his liquor." You giggled looking at the red cheeked boy passed out on the couch next to you. "Sure! Might as well have someone keep you company." He said laughing at Arthur, who's head was now leaning back with his mouth open.

George walked over, sitting on the other side of you, making himself comfortable. "Looks like you two had a good night, at least." He said, his focus still on Arthur. "Yeah, we filmed a video and you know how it goes." You giggled feeling slightly embarassed and self conscious that you were slurring your words. "You dont seem as bad- I guess you can actually handle your alcohol." He laughed as you nodded. "Yeah, Im slightly out of it but Im alright." You said.

"Well- are you hungry? I can order us a pizza or something?" He asked. You were kind of hungry and nodded your head. You watched as he pulled up his phone seeing a text from Chris.

Can't believe you ditched me for a girl 😠

A girl? You wondered who they were talking about but looked away once he began asking what you wanted. You both agreed on pizza and some toppings as he made the order. Your attention went back to the tv, you were watching Rush Hour as Arthur had put it on before he passed out.

"Do you like this movie?" George asked. "Yeah, its funny." You responded, he just nodded. You two spent the rest of thirty minutes watching the movie until the food arrived. He brought it over to you and brought you some plates. "I dont suppose you want another alcoholic beverage?" He asked with a smile. You shook your head. "No, just a soda for me please." He nodded and brought you one, grabbing a beer for himself. Arthur was still there, his sleeping body just adding to the ambiance.

You both continued watching the movie while eating until it was over. "So, what do you wanna do now?" He asked scrolling through the selection of movies. "We could makeout?" You said jokingly. You noticed how he stiffened, now sitting upright. You regreted your little joke. "Im kidding." You said trying to save yourself from the awkwardness that was seeping in.

"I know... but..." he started leaving you wondering what his next words were going to be. "What if you weren't kidding.." he said, fiddling with his fingers. You went wide eyed thinking about what he meant. Your mind was spiraling now. "What do you mean?" You asked nervously. "You don't understand, do you?" He asked, standing in front of you now. You shook your head slowly.

"He likesss youuuuuuuuugh!" You heard suddenly, both of your heads whipping to look towards Arthur, his eyes still closed and his head still titled back. "Is that true?" You asked, looking back towards George. "Thanks a lot, Arthur." He said as Arthur just waved him off. George came closer, grabbing your hand, beckoning you to stand up. You struggled a bit, but he held you tightly. "Yes. I like you, Y/n." He said with an awkward chuckle. "I've actually liked you for a while-"

"He watches all your videos, he always asks me to invite you over, he-" "OKAY! Thanks Arthur, Ive got it from here!" George said, trying to get Arthur quiet. "Out with it then!" Arthur responded, turning in his seat, hugging a pillow in a fetal position. "Yeah, you dont think I'm weird now, do you?" He asked for reassurance.

"Of course not." You said, placing a hand on his cheek. "I think it's quite sweet, actually." You grinned widely. You felt your heart flutter at this sudden confession. You never really had eyes for George, but you always found him so interesting and funny. You have to admit, you also watched most of his videos and would occasionally steal a glance or two whenever you're in the same room.

"Do you think you'd fancy a date with me then?" He asked sheepishly. "I would love to!" You replied, smiling from ear to ear. "Yay..." You heard a very low but cheery sound coming from the ball on the couch. "Thanks, Arthur!" You beamed happily. Suddenly, he sat upright. "You're welcome, BUT I want to be the best man or maid of honor at the wedding." He said seriously. "You've got it, mate." George chuckled, looking at you. You spent the rest of the night basically curled up with George while Arthur mustered up enough energy to head to his room. "This doesn't count as a first date, just so you know." He said, his head resting on yours. You smiled melting further into him, feeling safe and comfortable in his arms.

[lamare-sims]

I'll do you one better

My thinking: sims don't have to use soap when they wash their hands, or shampoo, or anything to clean dirty counters and tubs. So why use a detergent and make one game feature disproportionally more detailed than other similar features?

So, how about this idea..

Sims use cleaning and toiletry supplies for everything related to washing, cleaning, and personal hygiene!

Hear me out, this is how it's gonna work

You buy special items like soap and place them around the house like you would place bathroom clutter. Every time sims clean something or bathe, they subtract points from a nearby product if there are any. Once a bottle/box is used up, it disappears and notifies you if it was the last one.

While most interactions are still available even without supplies, having and not having them has advantages and penalties.

House cleaning takes longer without supplies and goes faster with them.

Same goes for bathing, with a difference: there's limit to how clean sims and pets can get with water alone.

(Yes, I have been writing the description, crazy stuff!)

Affected Interactions

So, there are two major groups of products: for house cleaning and for body care. They are mostly separate, but some things like regular soap can be used in both cases.

House Cleaning (think dish liquid, detergent, cleaner spray, washing powder, soap)

Wash dishes in sink

Wash dishes in dishwasher

Wash clothes in sink

Wash clothes in washing machine

Clean Pet Food Dish

Clean Pet Bed

Clean Litter Box

Clean Dog Cage

Clean Toilet

Clean Sink

Clean Bathtub

Clean Shower

Clean Counter

Clean Stove

Clean Puddle

Clean High Chair

Clean Aquarium

Clean any other object that uses cleaning tracker

Personal Hygiene: (soap, shampoo, body wash, bath bottles, toiletries)

Take Shower

Take Bath

Take Bubble Bath

Bathe Toddler

Wash Pet

Wash Hands

Sponge Bathe

Bathe Baby

Change Diaper

Wash Face

Brush Teeth

Apply Zit Cream

Pictured objects are included as separate files (+ one more paper towel). Can be found in Plumbing - Misc. One product has around 16-45 uses (half the initial price)

Testing time!

Hit me with conflicts, bugs and cute clutter

I'm especially interested in a storage-like object that's like a whole container/shelf of various supplies. I would make that object a source of refilling all the little ones, if that makes sense

Credits: Tvickiesims, Decat, LordCrumps, CrispsandKerosene, Moune999, misty_fluff

[twinsimming]

Laundromat Set 🧺

I've wanted to convert the washer and dryer from The Sims 4: Laundry Day since the pack came out, but all of the washers in The Sims 3 are top-loading, so I couldn't make the project work. That is, until @olomaya released her Combo Washer/Dryer mod. Now both the washer and dryer can be front-loaded!

Olomaya also included a stacked washer and dryer, so I converted and remade the stacked version of the washer and dryer from Laundry Day as well.

The washer, dryer, and stacked set all include a coin slot swatch for extra realism in your laundromats (as seen on the stacked set). You also have the option of frosted or clear glass doors.

You'll need the Combo Washer/Dryer mod for these appliances to work. I also recommend my Dirty Laundry Mod and @echoweaver's Laundromat Fix to enhance laundry/laundromat gameplay 😉

The detergent bottles are from Around The Sims 3 here, the laundromat signs are from wanderingsims here, and the tile flooring is a previous conversion of mine here.

Large Appliances

Green Clean Washing Machine: three channels | §500 |

Fyre Dryer: three channels | §525 |

Green Clean Washing & Drying Machine: three channels | §1025 |

Green Clean Washing Machine_V2: three channels | §500 |

Fyre Dryer_V2: three channels | §525 |

Green Clean Washing & Drying Machine_V2: three channels | §1025 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

Credit: meshes by EA, The Sims 4, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, and Gimp.

Download (SFS, package) | Mirror (MEGA, package)

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi.

Experiencing issues with my conversions? Inbox me. Enjoy! 💙

[januaryembrs]

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat. 

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks. 

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him. 

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,” 

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression. 

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments. 

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf. 

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts. 

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him. 

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot. 

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore. 

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him. 

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways. 

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses. 

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,” 

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier. 

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button. 

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,” 

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,” 

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?” 

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw. 

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner. 

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters. 

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed. 

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock. 

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling. 

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen. 

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”  

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,” 

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure. 

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties. 

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas. 

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure. 

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways. 

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips. 

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged. 

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come. 

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue. 

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it. 

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit. 

He loved sleepovers at your house.

[4ranghaes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd when they’re jealous

ot6!bnd x reader [mostly fluff, some smut, separate classifications for each]

sungho 🎀 [suggestive, members talking about reader sexually, fem!reader, mentions of: daddy kink, stealing panties, photos taken during sex]

“morning,” sungho greeted his members, walking into the kitchen with his hood up, his feet heavy on the ground as he walked off his hangover.

“morning hyung,” leehan greeted. four of the members were sat around the kitchen table, apart from woonhak, who had gone to visit his parents for the weekend when the legal members decided it’d be a good idea to have a night out. or a night-in drinking after eating in a restaurant, as idol life would have it, with you supplying bottle after bottle from trips to the gs25 over the road whenever you ran out.

“how’s y/n?” jaehyun inquired, sungho shrugging with a laugh.

“passed out still,” he chuckled, sitting down after making himself a bowl of cereal, “she can’t handle drink very well. don’t worry about noise though, she sleeps like a baby.”

“i’m sure after what you put her through too,” riwoo snorted, sungho looking at him shocked, almost offended.

“what?!”

“he doesn’t remember,” taesan sniggered, slapping him on the shoulder blades, “watch your mouth when you drink next time, hyung. or should i say daddy?”

the boys all burst out laughing, sungho’s mouth dropping open as he looked between all his members, not a single one saving his dignity.

“ah it’s okay, yeppi,” jaehyun said, holding back a laugh as sungho looked up at him, scared of his next words, “we washed your girls’ panties for you, by the way, thought you should give them back clean before she discovers them.”

“what?!” sungho yelled, grabbing the material that riwoo was dangling off his finger, taken fresh out the washing machine.

“what, hyung? it’s not like you didn’t volunteer this information yourself!” leehan chuckled, “shame you passed out before you could show us your hidden folder, though. next time.”

sungho was raging now, standing up from his chair and slamming his bowl into the sink before standing before his members, his hands shaky with rage. “i’m fine with teasing. and i know this is my fault. but one more single word about my girlfriend and i will ruin you guys.”

“sungho?”

“y/n!” he exclaimed, his voice turning bright again as he spun on his heel to face you, your sleepy figure appearing out his bedroom, his sweater covering your body, “i’ll be there in a minute, sweetie, go back to bed.” you grunted, retreating back into his bedroom as sungho looked back to his members with a threatening look.

“anything to say?”

they all shook their heads, sungho sighing in response and walking back to his bedroom, his hangover headache returning tenfold. you were bundled on in the blankets, a sleepy smile on your face and one eye open as he walked in.

“yeppi!” you murmured, opening your arm to come into your embrace, which he did without complaint, “were they crucifying you for everything you said about our sex life?”

“you know?!”

“you were very drunk, sungho darling,” you chuckled, rubbing his back comfortingly, “it’s okay. i don’t mind, you’re still my yeppi.”

sungho snuggled into your body, pouting with a sigh, “my girl.”

riwoo 🦦🍡 [fluff, bsf!riwoo, reader has a crush on someone else]

“bye taehyung!” you exclaimed, waving. riwoo, stood next to you, watching silently. you elbowed him in the ribs, “say bye.”

“bye taehyung!” riwoo over-exaggeratively waved as you rolled your eyes.

“i don’t get why you hate him! i mean, he walked me here, how sweet is that?!” you gushed, riwoo rolling his eyes and wincing, preparing for the usual monologue, “i didn’t even ask him too, i mean i kept saying no! he’s just so sweet, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer… ah! i can’t—”

“a red flag, no?” riwoo hummed, sitting down and flicking the tv on, “not taking no for an answer?”

“well– i mean in some situations! but not this one,” you sighed, sitting next to him, “seriously, sanghyeok-ie, what has he done to you? why do you hate him so much?”

riwoo sighed, looking at you before shaking his head, “nothing. you know how i am. i’m just a hater!”

you chuckled, shrugging with a nod in non-committal agreement before relaxing into the sofa to watch tv.

“but i do have one thing…” riwoo started, before shaking his head, “no, nothing.”

“no, what?!” you said quickly, sitting forward and grabbing his arm, “i want to hear! sanghyeok, you’re my best friend, if you don’t like someone i might date then i need to know why!”

riwoo swallowed, the words ‘i might date’ piercing his heart. he could feel it deflating like a balloon. “it’s really nothing. i was just gonna say, if you’ve liked him for 5 years, why have you not confessed yet?”

“oh,” you said suddenly, shocked at the sudden confrontation, “well… i don’t… i don’t really know. i’m always like this, you know me.”

“no,” riwoo disagreed with a curt shake of his head, “you always used to confess.”

“yeah, and i was always turned down!” you laughed, taking the remote from him as you flicked through the channels, “anyway, this is not about those confessions. this is about taehyung, i mean why would he ever like me?! it’s more of an admiration thing than anything, i think.”

“hey,” riwoo said sternly, “don’t say stuff like that.”

“but it’s true, isn’t it?!”

“no!” riwoo exclaimed, shaking his head as he looked at you incredulously, “no, absolutely not! any guy– and especially he— would be lucky to have you!”

you chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows a little in confusion, “thanks, hyeok.”

“i’m serious, y/n,” riwoo looked at you sternly, his body now sat forward too, his hold on your arm strong, “i need you to know that no guy on earth is good enough for you, okay? you’re the kindest person i’ve ever met and you’re funny and sweet and beautiful, and he is just some fucked up boy in a band, who happens to have a pretty face, okay?! please.”

he flopped back against the sofa with a loud sigh. you laughed with shock, “sanghyeok-ie. do you have something to tell me?”

“yes, i like you, y/n,” he sighed, “but this is not about that, not even i am good enough for you, okay?! but especially not him.”

you laughed, leaning into riwoo’s body, “i know why you never liked him now.”

riwoo was frozen in place, half shocked and half regretting his rushed confession, coming from an ugly place within him. he sighed, “why?”

“cause you were jealous, baby,” you teased. riwoo’s heart clenched at the nickname.

“y/n, please don’t tease me about this, we can just move past it,” he sighed, going to leave before you grabbed his hand.

“what if i don’t want to?”

jaehyun 🪻🐕 [fluff, fem!reader, pouty!jaehyun]

“hi there. what are you doing here all alone?”

your eyes widened at the sudden figure in front of you, “um… hello. oh i’m just–”

“got stood up?” the man asked, sighing and shaking his head before he took your hand, “well it doesn’t matter, i’m here now.”

“what?! no! i—”

“ya!” jaehyun’s voice rang from the other side of the café as he exited the toilet.

you giggled, watching his over-exaggerated behaviour as he ran through the café. your hero.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” he exclaimed, looking at you.

“me?!” you yelled back, “w-what— i didn’t do anything, he came over to me!”

“oh?!” he yelled, turning his harsh gaze to the guy sitting in what was jaehyun’s seat, you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s arm, hiding behind his body, “then what even are you?!”

“excuse me?” the man asked.

“hitting on my girlfriend,” jaehyun hissed like it was a slur, wincing after he said it, “get lost!”

“hey- man, i’m sorry, i had no idea she—”

jaehyun rolled his eyes, looking at the man like he’d lost his mind, “did i not just say get lost?! get out of here! that’s my seat!”

the man held up his hands, apologising to you quietly as he got up and left. jaehyun continued making faces as though he was still talking to the man, sitting down where he’d just been.

“ah, and it’s warm from his butt,” jaehyun tutted, as you laughed.

“thank you,” you smiled, taking his hand, “i didn’t know what to do.”

“clearly!” jaehyun exclaimed, not taking your hand back, “letting him hold your hand, ugh! i can’t believe it! why didn’t you tell him you had a boyfriend!”

“i couldn’t get a word in!” you exclaimed, “i promise, myungie, if i could have, i would have. anyway. didn’t need it in the end, i have my big strong protector with me, hmm?”

jaehyun scoffed, your words melting his pouty demeanour, “well… i didn’t really do anything.”

“it was kind of sexy you know,” you whispered at a comedically loud volume, jaehyun reacting with a ‘i knew it’ noise and a loud giggle.

“yeah?” he asked, poutiness gone as he took your hand over the table, playing with your fingers, “that was kinda manly, huh?”

you smiled, amused at your boyfriend as you nodded.

“i was like bah! get the fuck out and he was like ugh! don’t hurt me! and i was like bah! that’s my girlfriend!” jaehyun spoke, mostly to himself, reliving his glory days, “ugh, don’t worry about anything, y/n. i’m here.”

taesan 🐈‍⬛🎸 [angsty, bsf!taesan, fem!reader]

“oh my god, y/n! thank god, i was just thinking about you,” taesan smiled, seeing you in the doorway of his apartment building.

“dongmin-ie!” you exclaimed, pulling in your friend for a hug, “oh it’s been so long!”

“right?!” he laughed.

you and taesan had met a few years back through shared a interest in rock music, ending up hanging out with each other for hours on end, just laying about and listening to music. many people thought it was a weird relationship, but it was nice, and peaceful. in the past few months, however, taesan had been busy with composing and schedules, and you’d been busy with, well, his best friend.

“come on then,” taesan smiled, putting in the passcode to the building, furrowing his eyebrows when you faltered, “y/n?”

“sorry, min, but i’m actually here to meet up with leehan,” you smiled sheepishly, “he’s just coming down now.”

“leehan? why would you be meeting leehan?” taesan laughed, seeing the aforementioned man leaving the elevator.

“oh you’re home,” leehan acknowledged his friend before jogging down the stairs outside the building, pressing a kiss to your lips as a greeting, “hey baby.”

taesan’s eyes might’ve popped out of his head if he wasn’t careful, letting out a breathy laugh, feeling as though the air was being ripped from his lungs.

“jaehyun wasn’t awake when i left, tae, can you let him know where i am?” leehan called, smiling down at you and pressing a kiss to your nose, both of you too wrapped up in each other to notice your friend’s turmoil, “okay, bye!”

taesan watched the two of you leave, his heart pounding out of his chest before running up the 12 flights of stairs to get to the lower dorm. he barged into the flat that was not his, finding sungho in the living room playing fifa.

“did you know?!”

“know what?” sungho exclaimed, shocked at the sudden anger.

“that donghyun is dating y/n?!”

“oh, yeah,” sungho nodded, before furrowing his eyebrows, “d-did you not? this started a few months ago.”

“a few months ago?!” taesan yelled, pacing round the dorm, his face scrunched up to fight back tears as he panted.

“what’s wrong?!” sungho exclaimed, “they’re kind of nice together. very in love from what i can see, they’re all over each other whenever she’s round.”

“she comes round?!” taesan shouted, his voice hitching at the end as he stared at the ceiling, “no, sungho, i didn’t know.”

“okay, but still, i don’t see what the problem is here! you know him at least, you can hang out with both of them.”

“the problem is i’m in love with y/n, sungho, you absolute idiot!” taesan yelled, finally crumbling onto the floor, burying his face into one of the bean bags.

“w-what?”

taesan groaned, turning over, “i’m in love with y/n. and i didn’t tell anyone cause i was embarrassed. and now look what’s fucking happened. oh god, i’m an idiot!”

“n-no, it’s okay! i’m sure! the-they’re not that in love, i was just trying to be nice,” sungho scrambled, his hand finding his younger brother’s arm, rubbing soothingly.

taesan sighed, shaking his head, “it’s over, hyung. and now i have to see both of them all the time. they kissed five times while saying goodbye to me… five times!”

leehan🪸🐠 [suggestive, fem!reader, leehan has a scratched up back, jaehyun and sungho being little shits]

“here he is,” jaehyun teased, leehan appearing from his room with a small smirk on his face.

“yeah, shut up,” leehan said pre-emptively, knowing that both jaehyun and sungho had just heard everything that had come from his bedroom, where you were laying, dozing after the evening’s activities.

sungho was sat on the floor playing fifa as he laughed, looking up to his younger friend, “woah!”

“what?” leehan exclaimed, spinning around. jaehyun, who was sat at the dining table, now seeing what sungho was referring to.

“damn!” he yelled with a laugh, “was that sex or were you being attacked by a bear?”

leehan laughed, waving off their comments as he continued to the fridge, getting drinks and snacks for himself and for after you woke up, “she can’t give me hickies, our make-up artist forbid her, i guess this is the other option, why? jealous?”

jaehyun shrugged, getting up and inspecting the marks on his friend’s back, “wow. i suppose y/n does have long nails, hmm?”

“yeah paid for by donghyun-ie, too!” sungho laughed, jaehyun nodding in shock at sungho’s words.

“you’re right!” jaehyun laughed, “wow i’d pay for my girl’s nails too if she did that to me.”

“and everything else,” sungho snorted, returning to his game.

leehan furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“everything else she was doing to you!” sungho laughed, his eyes not moving away from the screen, “you were moaning like crazy.”

“i just… do that for anything,” leehan defended weakly, taking a crisp from an open bag on the side.

“it’s not like he wasn’t doing it for her too, though,” jaehyun laughed, leehan could see he was revving up for one of his big moments, as jaehyun kneeled on the dining chair, beginning to mimic your moans loudly, “oh! donghyun! oh baby you’re so big! ugh! fuck me, please, donghyun!”

“alright, okay,” leehan spoke assertively, trying to calm him down.

“oh, donghyun!” sungho joined in, “need you!”

leehan’s face was solemn now, turning angry as he looked at his older friends.

“guys,” he said, his voice loud, “that’s my girlfriend, shut the fuck up please.”

jaehyun sniggered, agreeing in a way that pissed leehan off even more.

“you’re just fucking jealous you don’t get any,” leehan hissed, taking a swig of his drink.

sungho laughed loudly, trying badly to cover it up after.

“what?!” leehan yelled, “you have something to say?!”

“yeah,” sungho scoffed, nodding, “i never knew you were so jealous.”

“huh?”

“i’ve never seen you get angry before, donghyun-ah!” sungho exclaimed, excitement laced in his voice, “this is obviously what happens when you get jealous.”

“don’t have sex so loudly if you don’t want us to hear, donghyun-ah,” jaehyun teased, slapping leehan’s shoulder, the boy flinching as his hand landed on fresh wounds. “oh! i’m sorry! i really didn’t mean to.”

leehan’s voice was tight when he spoke, “it’s fine.”

woonhak 🧸 [fluff, poutybf!woonhak, fem!reader]

“ah why?!” you pleaded, tugging on your boyfriend’s arm, “just once! i just want to see!”

woonhak rolled his eyes dramatically, shaking his arm so your grip went with it, “no, y/n! i’m never going to bring you to my dorm, okay? stop asking.”

you sighed, exasperated, “i don’t see why not, woonie, i just want to see, you know i still live with my parents, it’s just interesting!”

“i wish i still lived with my parents,” he scoffed, picking at the tteokbokki the two of you had got from the stall outside your school, standing and eating on the corner as you hid your shivers under your padded coats and each others’ body heat.

“ah please!” you whined, stamping your foot as your boyfriend started to laugh, “you haven’t even given me a good reason why not!”

“come on,” woonhak laughed, thanking the grandma working at the stand as you began to walk home. you sighed, resigning your argument as you walked arm in arm.

“oh!” you exclaimed, slapping your boyfriend’s back excitedly, he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“ah what?!”

“it’s myung jaehyun!” you exclaimed, a shocked smile on your face at the man you’d heard and seen so much about, “oh! and riwoo!”

“stop calling them like that,” woonhak chastised, leaving your side to jog towards his members, “hyungs, what are you doing here?!”

“came to pick you up of course!” jaehyun exclaimed.

“i think we interrupted something though,” riwoo chuckled, seeing you arrive at woonhak’s side and take ahold of his arm again.

you bowed, greeting the two, “hello! i’m y/n.”

“of course,” jaehyun cooed, “we heard so much about you!”

you blushed, “really?”

“our woonhak never shuts up about you!” riwoo teased.

you smiled, the four of you beginning to walk home. jaehyun and riwoo talked your ear off the whole way, as you giggled and gushed over their words of praise and adoration for woonhak, and for you.

“y/n has to go now,” woonhak announced as you reached the top of your street.

“oh, i thought she’d come back to the dorm!” riwoo exclaimed. jaehyun nodded, “hey, come! taesan’s mum cooked a bunch of food for us that we’re gonna have tonight!”

“ah i want to! but woonie said i couldn’t come to the dorms…”

the two hyungs looked confused, turning towards woonhak as you did the same, looking at your boyfriend’s slightly guilty expression.

“it was because of this!” he suddenly burst, “hyungs, this is my girlfriend! let me talk to her at least, god!”

your eyes widened before you smiled, biting your lip to hold in your laugh; jaehyun and riwoo obviously not doing the same.

“i’m sorry, our baby,” jaehyun cooed, squeezing woonhak’s cheek as he protested more, “were we taking up too much of her time?”

woonhak rolled his eyes, suddenly growing embarrassed.

“let her come back to the dorm and you’ll have all the time in the world,” riwoo offered, woonhak sighing as he took your arm.

“come on then.”

[seppasolution11]

"Improving Production Lines with Seppa’s Seamless Bottle Cleaning Integration"

Glass cleaning and hygiene are critical matters in the beverages, pharmaceuticals, and cosmetics industries that ensure the quality of the product to the consumer and safeguard him from harm and the company from any legislation. Ineffective, unreliable, and resource-hungry appliances describe the most conventional means of cleaning. Hence, sophisticated alternatives are such as that of the Seppa Glass Bottle Washer.

An eco-friendly design and cutting-edge technologies are this washer's claims to fame. It thoroughly cleans bottles with its multi-stage cleaning procedures, steam sterilization, and customizable pressure settings, ensuring high compatibility for any bottle shape or size. Less water and chemical consumption due to its highly sophisticated filtration system lowers operating costs and promotes sustainability.

With its adaptable programming, expandable capacity, and easy integration into current production lines, the Seppa Solutions Glass Bottle Washer is made to meet a variety of industrial requirements. Its high-speed operation, energy economy, and little downtime increase production and save money.

Accoladed by customers across different industries for the increased effectiveness of hygiene practices, along with stricter regulations and reduced cleaning time, Seppa Solutions now represents unmatched technology along with eco-friendly methods. It also excels in customer services, making it a sure bet for businesses wishing to improve their cleaning practices.

It would be wise for businesses to invest in the Seppa Solutions Glass Bottle Washer to achieve better hygiene, operational efficiency, and sustainability.

[lovesickhughes]

May i please have a Amore 💌 with the prompt “My little slut to ruin.” thank you gorgeous

a/n: i wasn't sure who you wanted me to write this for, but you can never go wrong with a little quinn action!

18+ under the cut

There was nothing more refreshing than the feeling of cool water of a shower hitting your skin after a day spent out on the lake, letting the sun soak your skin and the fresh water drying your skin.

Dinner was served—stomachs filled— before settling down for the night around the campfire. You had helped clean up the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher machine and slipped your hand under Quinn's shirt from behind, rubbing the warm skin of his back when you let him know you'd be stepping away to shower.

What you didn't expect was to see the bathroom door open through the fogged glass of the shower as you let the faucet wet your hair and body, chilling your skin from the heat of the outdoors. Quinn slipped through, meeting your eyes that squinted as your brows pinched together in confusion.

"What'cha doing, babe?" You asked as you reached for your shampoo that was placed on the shelf within the shower, squeezing out a portion and lathering your head with the product. You scrubbed your head, relaxing into the feeling of your own fingers, while your eyes stayed glued to Quinn's movements.

You watched him as he fumbled with the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his sun-kissed skin, freckles painted along the landscape of his muscles, and how he stripped completely from his clothes, a small grin painted on his face as he approached the shower you were in.

When Quinn opened the glass door, sneaking in to avoid any excess water escaping, you turned to face his front as he now stood only inches away, your bodies emitting heat that only added to the humidity of the shower.

"Thought I'd join you... help you wash your hair and stuff," Quinn smiled sweetly as his hands fell to your hips, caressing the wet skin, his grip tight.

You hummed in response, turning to reach for your next hair product, not missing the feeling of Quinn's hardening member press into the swell of your ass cheek. You turned your head over your shoulder, smirking and biting the inside of your cheek to only see Quinn's hooded gaze, tilted head and a sly grin stretched across his face as his hands soothed over the expanse of your back.

As you stood, you handed the bottle to Quinn, placing enough product in his hand for him to massage into your scalp, and when his fingers entangled in your hair, massaging with such a light-feathered touch, you couldn't help but groan, leaning your head back to rest against his own.

Quinn worked his fingers through your hair until you needed to rinse, and when you handed Quinn the bottle of soap you used while at the lake house, his eyes darkened, knowing exactly what you were allowing him to do.

"Want to do the honours?" You teased, grinning yourself as you taunted him with the soap.

He pulled you into his body, arms snagging around your waist and pressing you tight against his chest, making sure to notice the feeling of your breasts pressed against his own chest, nipples hard and goosebumps splaying across your skin.

He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a sweet kiss, but not long before his hands trailed up to your jaw, cupping your face and deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips sending you into a spiral of bliss.

Pulling away, Quinn opened the bottle of soap and squeezed the liquid out into his hand, scrubbing his hands together to cause bubbles to form.

He started slow, lathering the skin of your chest in the foam, trailing down the lengths of your arms and back up. Dragging his hands slowly to your chest and lower around your breasts, massaging the soap into the skin while your eyes stayed glued to his ever so slow movements.

While his hands lowered to spread the soap across your stomach, you watched Quinn raise his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing them and letting his thumb tease over your sensitive, hardened nipple, his gaze lifting to watch as your mouth fell open and a whimper passed through.

He carefully lowered his hands to your hips, then to your knees, his hand slipping behind to bend your leg and rest it against the ledge of the shower. He cleansed your body, delicately and thoroughly as you watched him in awe. He was so content, focused and determined to ensure the upmost relaxation and pleasure for you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your hand balancing yourself against his shoulder, fingernails digging into his skin as you bit the inside of your cheek to contain a moan from slipping from your throat.

When Quinn guided you further under the running water to wash away the foaming soap that covered your body, you were aware of Quinn's tight grip on your hips. You knew that grip too well. You knew what it meant and you knew what he wanted when his touch lingered against your skin, leaving a wave of heat to spread through your body.

His hands grazed over the expanse of your body, running water along to rid of the soap, and you found yourself having to steady your balance by reaching your hands to grasp at the wall before you.

Your knees felt weak, like the silence and Quinn's touch were to intensify the heat pooling in your stomach and between your legs, and when Quinn's hands came to cup your breasts, desperately squeezing your flesh and toying with your nipples, your head fell to your chest as you let out a shaky breath.

Quinn's head fell to the crook of your neck, not caring for the water that wet his own hair as he inhaled the scent of your soap, leaving an opened mouth kiss against your skin. His hands rubbed against the skin of your torso, up and down your sides as your heavy breaths filled the room.

When Quinn's hands slipped to your front, his fingers teasing your pussy that was aching for some release from Quinn, you moaned as he pulled away, still trailing kisses along your shoulder blade.

"Quinn, please..." You urged, your hips tilting backwards to press into Quinn's waist, feeling his now fully stiff member that was just as eager to search for a release.

"Want me to make you feel good?" Quinn murmured against your skin, his hands still roaming your body, every so often reaching to brush against your clit.

You nodded your head, leaning back against Quinn's shoulder.

"I need words, baby." He tested, gripping your hips tight, his one hand slipping upward to your breast and then tightening around your neck.

"Please touch me, Quinn." You groan, barely audible as Quinn's lips attached to the side of your neck.

His hand slipped down between your legs, toying with your clit before dipping his middle finger into the pool of arousal between your legs.

"Let me take care of you." He coaxed, his hands now focusing between your legs. His fingers worked diligently against your clit, working patterns that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You moan as Quinn quickens his pace, edging you and bringing you closer to the brink of climax.

His free hand that held you tight against his chest, lowers to your leg, bending it to rest on the ledge of the shower, allowing more room for Quinn to slip his hand between.

When his movements abruptly stop, your eyes open, turning your head to look at Quinn who was now stroking his member, aligning it with your entrance. And when his eyes met yours, the smirk that pulled across his face only left you shaking your head with a small giggle.

As Quinn pressed into you, stretching your pussy and eliciting a strike of pain followed by instant pleasure, your hand grasped at Quinn's forearm to steady yourself.

Whining and mewling as he continued to stretch and fill you, your head falls with pleasure once he fully reaches the tip of your cervix, bottoming you out and it isn't long before he begins to work against you, thrusting in and out, the veins and curvature of his cock enveloping against your walls.

His pace quickens, the sound of the water splashing against your skin and the slaps of skin hitting one another echo through the shower, followed by the moans and groans from yours and Quinn's throats at the pleasure.

"Fuck, Quinn you feel so good." You whine, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on the tightening knot within your belly.

He grunts in return, bottom lip tucked under his teeth as he focuses on thrusting deep and hard into your pussy, your wetness allowing him to slide in and out of you perfectly.

He adjusts his stance, taking his own leg to rest on the ledge within the shower, and the slightest movement left your body erupting with pleasure.

You let out a loud moan, which only earned Quinn's hand coming to cover your lips as he continued to fuck you.

"Harder, Quinn." You mumbled against his hand that pressed against your mouth. He tilted your head back so that your neck was stretched enough for his eyes to meet yours, his hooded gaze concentrated on fucking you.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you like the whore you are? So desperate." He said through gritted teeth, his own voice wobbly as he reached his own orgasm. You groan in response, eyes shutting as he quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely before pounding his hips back against yours, moans erupting from your throat in unison.

"Fuck, Y/n. Taking me so well, my little slut to ruin, hey? So drunk on my cock." He praised as he gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his own thrusts.

You moan in response, too entranced by the feeling of Quinn fucking you like no other. Your knees fell weak, your body only staying up because of Quinn's grip as he pulled you against him and as he continued to thrust into you, you felt the knot within your stomach grow tighter and tighter with each touch of Quinn's tip to your cervix.

"I'm so close," You whimpered, barely audible, lip quivering as you attempted to compose yourself. But much to your own dismay, you failed as Quinn slipped his hand back to your front, toying with your clit and letting your body erupt in euphoria as you came on his cock.

He praised you while continuing to slide his cock against your walls as you squeezed around him— that alone leaving Quinn's orgasm to follow not long after.

As he pulled out, watching his cum drip down your leg, you moan at the feeling of loss, standing up straight and turning to wrap yourself in Quinn's arms.

You peppered kisses against his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck and playing with the wet strands.

"So good," you hummed against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. Quinn kissed the top of your head before pulling away to meet your gaze. "Thank you." You smiled sweetly, rising onto your toes to connect your lips to his own.

When he pulled away, he still had his known smirk written across his face. "I'm not done taking care of you."

"Is that so? What about the fire?" You asked, thinking back to the original plan for the night before things got carried away.

Quinn only shrugged, "Early night in bed for us."

[evieolo]

Panty Thief

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Contains: SMUT!!/ Male masturbation / Handjobs / Male!Receiving

“Chris, can you check if my laundry’s done for me?” You call from behind your door, catching his footsteps in the hall. Chris sighs dramatically, his voice loud enough for you to hear, and stops at your door, pushing it open. “Why can’t you do it?” He proclaims, shooting a playful glare your way. He’s dressed in low-cut gray sweats and a plain black t-shirt, carrying a mix of shirts and hoodies, folded messily in his hand.

You stretch your arms out, feigning tiredness. “I don’t want to get up.” You yawn, draping your comforter more over your torso and immersing yourself further in your social media. Chris sighs, realizing since he has to do his laundry he has to get yours out of the washing machine. Begrudgingly, he heads to the laundry room, as if he wasn’t already on his way there.

The smell of fresh laundry fans Chris’ nose as he walks into the dull room, a boring room contradicting the rest of the house, with white walls—no decor, only a window with a drapy shade over it that, on sunny days, beams light into the room, the only exception of furniture being the washer-dryer.

Chris inhales, shamelessly breathing in the fumes of your coconut-scented detergent, a scent he’d grown happily accustomed to after your many years of friendship. In Chris’ mind, you had an excessive amount of clothes. You’re not a messy person if you subtract clothes from the mix; your room is always littered with your latest clothing hauls, mixed but in separate piles from your dirty laundry. When he’d gone down to the laundry room an hour ago your clothes were cycling through the wash; still now you now had one snug load to the side in a circular hamper. The hamper adjoined the running dryer which had a second batch of clothes in it.

He approaches the shaking dryer slowly—there are two minutes left in the cycle—he might as well stay in the room while he waits for yours to finish.

Chris absentmindedly picks up the detergent you use and out of boredom reads the many labels on the bottle, giving up when he reads too many ingredient words with over twenty letters in them; the bottle’s sticky at the top where Chris holds it, he doesn’t realize this until it's slipping out of his fingers. The detergent bottle falls from his hand and spills into the hamper of your clean clothing.

Chris curses silently and snatches the bottle off the haphazard mix of clothes. He sets the bottle atop the drier and inspects the pile, pulling the soiled short on top of the pile off, wincing at the damp stain. He presses a palm to the next shirt down, realizing detergent did seep past the first top. He lets out a dramatic sigh of frustration and pulls the shirt off the top of the pile—discarding it into his basket of dirty laundry, deciding he’ll wash it with his own clothes and return it to you afterward.

He peeks to the pile of your laundry now without your baggy T housing the rest of the apparel. An orange piece catches his attention. It’s his favorite color, plus, he’d never seen you wear this specific shade before. He’s curious.

Chris saunters back to your hamper and pulls the orange bottoms out of the basket. He flushes when he realizes the bottoms are not shorts. They’re panties, peachy orange with a navy frill along the hems.

The man practically freezes in place, the panties were innocently simple—nothing relatively showy but they were his favorite color. There had to be some meaning to that. Right?

Chris runs his wrist along the hem of your bottoms, meshing the fabric of them between his thumbs. The fabric is light and delicate, almost weightless to touch, running his fingers over the hem he feels the jagged texture, so thin it's almost translucent.

He imagines how they’d sit on your hips; flaunt the curve of your ass. The thought of this—of you, shifts the looseness of his pants and he feels a recognizable stiffness arise against the fabric of his boxers.

“Chris?”

You enter the room tauntingly and Chris mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath. He realized he’d look like a pervert in any situation so he quickly bunches your panties in his fist and pockets them.

Your eyes narrow as you realize he neglected your request and didn’t tell you that your laundry was done, “What have you been doing down here for the past ten minutes?” You ask skeptically.

Chris’ features flush red and he sucks his teeth, his mind blank of any witty remarks. He pauses for a second before speaking, “Wishing your laundry would disappear…Okay, but seriously, why do you have so many clothes?” He whines, alleviating the tension he’d created in his mind.

You laugh, opening the dryer that’d just finished its cycle with a ‘click’

“You’re just mad that I have style.” You rebuttal, a wide smile on your face.

“Mhm”

Chris swallows harshly, standing stiffly as he watches you bend down to spoon your clothes out of the dryer. His eyes focus on the curve of your ass, the way you teeter on your knees to reach the clothes in the very back. It’s not soon before he feels harsher tightening in his abdomen.

He mentally curses himself. Asking himself if he seriously got a boner from watching his best friend do laundry.

Chris makes a light grunting noise—his begrudging goodbye—before he leaves the room. You turn your head at the diminishing sound of footsteps. “Chris, I thought you were doing your laundry?” You press, curious as to why he’s leaving so soon.

Chris continues out of the room, only turning his head slightly to respond to you, “I-I’ll do it later.” He stammers, making his way up the stairs making a beeline to his bedroom.

When he reaches his room he’s flustered, his cheeks are red and you’re running through his mind. There are only two things he can think of: your ass and your panties.

Your panties that are in his pocket.

He pulls his fist out of his pocket and holds your undergarments again. The sight of the frill only turns him on further, making his hard-on tent his pants. Chris curses under his breath for the nth time before retreating to his bed, shooing away his self-accusations of him being a ‘pervert’ and deciding to do something about his boner.

He sits on his bed, scooting back against the headboard and shimmies his sweats down, pushing the band of his boxers down to reveal his hardened-cock.

Feathering a hand down to his base, he groans a sigh from the pressure his hand brings. He pumps his length upward, coaxing pre-cum from his angry tip, smearing the drops in liquid down his base as he pumps himself; picturing you as he does so.

He imagines you—bending down for him instead of a washing machine. How your hands would wrap around him, your small hands; small but oh so gentle. And fuck, those panties, he wished he could see them around your hips, how they would flaunt the curve of your ass perfectly. He’d push the cloth to the side and fuck you with them still on.

He palms your pocketed bottoms, pushing them against his cock and thrusting against the fabric, hips roiling into his hand as he moans your name.

“Fuck Y/N, fuck, yeah just like that.” He whimpers, rutting against his hand so desperately he doesn’t realize how his door creaks open.

“Chris, did you take…” you pause, unsure how to ask if he knows where your missing undergarments are, “Uhm - did you take something from my laundry bin?” You question shyly, too embarrassed to blatantly admit you can’t find your favorite panties. Your eyes are down, and you teeter on your heels, until you grow impatient with Chris’ lack of response and look at him.

Your eyes widen, and you yell out a loud “Fuck!”, meekly covering your eyes with your hands and turning away.

Chris then notices your presence, his jaw drops and his cheeks burn bright red. He tries to shuffle under his comforter, but it's to no avail; he’s sitting on top of it.

You continue to conceal your vision with your hands, only peeking through a small crack at his face until you realize where your panties are. Wet and bunched up in his hand. Your mouth falls slightly ajar in surprise, and you stop hindering your vision.

“Chris, were you jerking off to my underwear?” You ask wide-eyed.

Unsure of what to say, Chris simply nods out a quiet “yes.”

Chris stays silent. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows harshly. “Are you going to stand in my doorway like that for the rest of your life?”

You take this as an invitation to join him in his bed, sauntering to the bed’s foot, and kneeling yourself onto the mattress, crawling over his sprawled-out legs and leaving your hand dangerously close to his hard-on.

“Can I?” You hum, meeting his eyes. He nods eagerly, watching you intently. “If I had known you were this big I would’ve done this a long time ago,” you coo, feathering a hand down to his needy tip and running a thumb over in a circular motion. With this, Chris leans back and lets out an opened-mouth moan.

“Fuck Y/N,” He sighs, lazily running a hand through his hair as you start moving your hand down his shaft. Running your palm up and down and squeezing gently once you reach the tip.

“Wanna suck you off, baby.” You hum, pressing a kiss to his tip. Chris shivers at the contact, groaning at the sloppy peck, “Please.” He whines.

You puff your cheeks out, readying yourself for his size and kitten lick his tip before wrapping your lips around him, sinking your head down slightly to test the waters before speeding up a bit, filling the room with sounds of erotic spit and Chris’ loud groans.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Chris moans, knotting his hands in your hair and pushing your head down further every time you bob down. The sound of your lewd gagging nears Chris’ orgasm.

Looking at you sets him over the edge, the way your back arches towards him, to get easier access to him, how tears prod your waterline every time his dick hits your throat, the hums you let out as he knots your hair tighter and tighter.

His dick twitches in your mouth, signaling to you his upcoming release, and before you can get a breath through your nose, he's rutting his hips into you, pushing your head down to his base, breathing heavily, as his cum sloppily trickles into your mouth.

He holds your head down sternly as he comes down from his high, pushing you down against his base. When he releases his grip on your hair, you pull back, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Holy shit.” Chris mumbles, threading his fingers through his hair. You straighten your spine, positioning yourself back in a sitting position on your knees and meet eye level with Chris.

He smirks when you meet his eyes. Your face is red, and your throat is sore from the way his tip bruised your pharynx. Chris watches intently as you wipe his dripping cum off the corners of your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Where’d you learn how to suck dick like that?” He heaves, a playful undertone to his words.

“I dabble,” You smile, shrugging off his question as you give him a crooked smile.

Chris pauses for a second, opening and closing his mouth twice before he actually speaks, “Why’d we do that?” He asks, pinching his eyes shut in embarrassment.

You sense his awkwardness and scoot closer to him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Chris, this doesn’t have to change things between us; best friends fuck all the time.” You say, delicately pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Chris meets your eyes, pulling his boxers back on to leave him less exposed. “You can’t call me your best friend after sucking the life out of my dick.” He laughs.

Meeting his gaze you fold your arms in your lap, “If I shouldn’t call you my best friend, what should I call you?”

“How about boyfriend?” He winks, shifting off the bed and heading for the shower stopping to toss you your dampened panties. “Can you wear these for me tomorrow?”

[ms-sasa]

Random HC for domestic 141 x reader

Reader got that random high motivation for deep cleaning the house when they come home.

No its not proof read, ne English is not my first language, yes it was a spontaneous idea

Yes i have to deep clean the house because we are getting guests....

Price

-would come home expecting his partner to run to the door greeting him but nooo not today...

Today the reader got really pissed off by a coworker/friend/stranger and had to get that angry energy out off their system.

So what would be better than going for an angry cleaning free...

Reader would curse and throw around the laundry while sorting it in the right baskets, slamming the door of the washing machine shut and pressing the few dress shirts he had like they are burning their enemies with the hot iron.

Price decided that it would be the best to retreat to his office and wait for the storm to pass by...

Later that evening he heard a soft knock on his door and a calm and tired reader entered.

"better luv..?'

"hmhm..." They walked over to him hugging him

"welcome home..."

"thanks... Do you want takeout and tell me what happened?"

"yea... And cuddles"

Simon

Simon would come home to open his flats door just to be blocked halfway through. Some furniture was standing in front of the door

Reader had noticed the sand in the hallway when they walked around barefoot. And boy no way that was acceptable... How often did they tell simon to put his damn boots off at the door.

So what started as a quick vacuum of the hallway ended in lifting the shoe rag , rolling up the carpets and dusting off the Skirting boards.

Hence why Simon was now blinking confused why the fucking dresser was standing in the hallway.. in front of the entrance.

"luv'...?"

"si! Good you are home!! I need your help.."

The dresser is moved and he was pulled inside. After a quick kiss on the lips and a warning to take his fucking boots off at the door he was ordered to move the couch....

That's how he ended up seated on the disassembled couch waiting for his love to finish with the living room, ranting about the sand that was just EVERYWHERE. Simon made a mental note to make sure to take off his boots at the front door from now on....

Johnny

Johnny was glad to be home again. The mission was okay and he even got to shower at base before coming home but still...

It was good that he showed at base because when he unlocked the door he was greeted by the smell of cleaning supplies and something that looked like his bathroom had thrown up all the little pots and bottles into the hallway.

"lass... What...?" He walked into the flat peeking into the bathroom and grined.

Reader was wearing shorts, a tank top and cleaning gloves. Added to that was a pair of Bluetooth headphones and they were dancing around and singing (badly) to some 90's pop song.

So it was obvious what he was gonna do next .. right strip down to his boxers, connecting the phone to the home speaker blasting the pop songs on them and joining the cleaning party.

"johnny!!! What are you doing??"

"helping yer lass now move over and give me that sponge"

They ended up with a beautiful clean bathroom, a good hot shower together and a noise complaint from the neighbors.

Kyle

Kyle was hungry when he came back from work this time. Hungry and tired but when he enters the flat and hears the clutter of pans and pots on the floor he knows dinner had to wait.

"babe?" He rounded the corner and almost tripped over a stack of plates "what in the..."

"oh hey love.. uhm we are gonna need to order food..."

Kyle looked around at the completely empty kitchen. Every pot, glass, plate or knife they owned was spread somewhere in the living room. The cabinets empty and even the pantry was bare of everything that wasn't canned or otherwise securely closed.

"babe.. why??" Then something flew past him and he noticed it in an instant groaning. food moths...

"yea... Sorry love." The reader got up and got over to him kissing him hello "how about you go and get some new essentials and some takeaway for dinner? I'll finish here"

Kyle sighed and nodded... No home cooked goods for him tonight

[dropsnectar]

When a Fox is Bored...

M!Kitsune x gn!reader

NSFW

A Kitsune who recently inherited a new territory, of which your house is smack in the middle of. 

As an easily bored spirit, he finds the thought of pranking you hilarious. He starts out with small things, moving your cereal bowl in the morning, replacing dish washing detergent with dish soap. He laughs quietly to himself as he watches you search for what should have been obviously in front of you, eyebrows furrowed, and confusion fueling his quiet laughter. He watched you run around in horror, trying to scoops bubbles into water buckets. Something about your confusion and panic satisfied him. 

He made a habit of visiting you and making something go wrong. But after the fifth prank, something changed. You laughed at how your water bottle, once filled with water, was now orange juice. Your missing backpack, instead of being on the table, under your bed. You cleaned the place up, reducing clutter. You kept your bags close, and hummed to yourself as you searched about, peaceful. This picked at something in him. Your worried expression had been his after all. He upped the ante.

He messed with your washing machine. That prank took a while, since as a spirit of nature, tech was foreign to him. Filled with pride expecting your eyes to go big and your lips purse for him, all you did was roll your eyes and take your clothes and laundry detergent to the bathroom. You turned on a little play on your little black rock, and filled the tub with water soap and clothes. Then you got to work, stomping like you were pressing grapes for wine. Despite the distraction of the “phone”, your face was still crinkled in effort, sweat drifting down your brow. He liked this expression. Maybe this too was a prank well done.

At some point, you had started making double helpings for dinner. In the past, meals of ramen and grocery potatoes salad had turned into steaks, chicken and pasta. 

You would pour two glasses of wine and put out a plate and a glass on the old stump by the back door. Curious, the kitsune would eat up, soon enamored with your cooking.

About time! It was only right of you to give him offerings. You were in his territory after all. In the mornings you would collect the dishes, and the cycle would continue.

Of course, this didn't mean he would stop his favorite source of entertainment. Far from it. He'd replace your coffee maker with one of a differing model. He'd leave piles of fruit by the door, savoring your surprised reaction as you looked around, not noticing the small form he had taken behind the door. He learned your preferences, your schedule, even your sorrows as you poured over a hastily scrawled budget that just wouldn't add up the way it should. 

He had to admit sometimes his pranks grew even farther then he meant to. You had dressed up to the 9s for a much needed job interview, with a man whose soul was so gray he could see it through the phone. You had gotten in your old, rusty car, only for it to get hit by a huge black Denali, five minutes from your house.

Out stepped a gentle older man in a weathered cardigan. The old man listened to you cry, as you waved about a dead phone, and explained how you couldn't afford this. You had missed the job interview you so desperately needed.

 This was the part that bewildered the kitsune. He wasn't sure if it was his own magic or yours, but the older man offered you a job on the spot, twice the salary you were looking for. The old man's aura was a gentle green. This satisfied the kitsune. This man would take care of his favorite victim.

His heart filled with satisfaction at how you bounced and garbled out thank yous. He didn't fail to notice that dinner that night came with a whole tray of brownies. You made him cupcakes when you got the huge insurance check in the mail. 

After dinner, he was surveying you as you watched “Net-fix”, something about a mute woman rescuing a lake monster, when you turned the TV off and headed upstairs. 

This intrigued the kitsune, as you usually watched television for another hour before passing out. 

You took off your pants and crawled into bed. The room was quiet except for your breathy moans as you pleasured yourself, one hand working yourself up under your underwear.

The smell that filled the room was mouthwatering. And the way you mewled out made the kitsune feral. He was on you in a few minutes, transforming from his invisible form to his most majestic one. He leaned over you, eyes red and hungry, as he pinned your free hand over your head and licked his lips.

“Its you.” You whispered, voice light and merry. It was like it had been a long grey winter and the sun had finally decided to come out. It was an expression he had never collected from you and it made his heart heavy.

“I knew you were here. Thank you. For everything.”

He stared at you, now full of apprehension. But a peice of him was still so full of joy that you recognized him. That you saw him and wanted him with you now.

“You have been my playtoy. I have made your life difficult more times than I have lightened it.”

“You kept me on my toes” you laughed out, tone innocent. “But I know how to deal with boys who tug my pigtails. And you haven't tugged on them in a long time.” You reached your other hand forward and brought it to his cheek. It was a gentle gesture of affection, but it did not have the soothing effect you intended. 

Your hand smelled so full of your core it drove him insane, dick throbing and hard under his robes. He took your hand and brought it to his mouth, swallowing down any residue that had been left on your fingers. The face you made was adorable, how your eyes glowed and the ghost of your tongue peaked out from your lips. He was going to collect so many faces from you tonight, and they would all be his. YOU would be his.

He discarded his robes and your underwear with magic, a tidy pile on the chair next to the bed. Then, he was on you, mouth nibbling your neck, biting you collarbone, before licking at the marks he had made. He rutted his hips against you for relief as he claimed your mouth, your tongue swirling around his. Your hands grasped hard to his back, nails scratching. It was your way of claiming him too, of this he was sure, and it was just too damn cute.

He dragged himself around your entrance, laughing and saying he wouldn't enter you until you begged him for it. You pouted at him and huffed, but eventually gave in, asking him to fill you. He did so with one hard thrust causing you to cry out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

He kept a quick pace. Your eyes were glazed, your core molten hot as he hit every little spot inside you that would bring you closer to release. You tried to hide it at first, hands covering your mouth but your eyes gave it away. He let you conceal yourself for all of five minutes before he had both your hands pinned above your head, his thrusts jutting at an unforgiving pace inside you. 

He was feral. THERE it was! That was the face he had wanted, the expression he had wanted to capture from you since the very beginning. Your panting, your eyes glazed over, mouth open in a silent plea, THAT'S what he wanted all along. And it was his! You were his now. The realization, the feeling of you, and the way you cried and clenched around him in release was what finally sent him over the edge. Against all odds you came together, riding out your ecstasy with sighing breaths. 

His mind was hazy with afterglow as he pulled you into his arms, large fluffy tails wrapping around your legs, arms, even one teasing at your face, a tickle. You laughed and kissed the fluff before turning over and kissing his nose, eyes bright. You were sated and happy. 

“Could we maybe, make a habit of this?”

He grinned at you. Every single feature of him was dripping with mischief when he replied.

“You think I'm satisfied with just this? There's so much more I have planned for you, you silly thing. Be prepared, got it?”

Part Two-ish