#Container Loading Inspection

[qc-easy]

What Are the Benefits of Container Loading Inspections?

In the complex world of international trade, the journey of goods from manufacturer to consumer involves numerous critical stages. While product quality inspections are often prioritized at the factory floor, there's one final, yet often overlooked, checkpoint that can significantly impact the success of a shipment: the Container Loading Inspection (CLI).

For businesses that invest heavily in product quality – through meticulous design, rigorous manufacturing, and comprehensive Pre-Shipment Inspections – overlooking the loading process is akin to running a perfect race only to trip at the finish line. A well-executed CLI, also known as Container Loading Supervision (CLS), serves as the ultimate safeguard, ensuring that the fruits of your labor are securely and correctly packed for their long voyage.

QC-Easy LTD. understands that true quality assurance extends beyond the product itself to its safe passage. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the often underestimated, yet invaluable, benefits of conducting a Container Loading Inspection, proving why it's an essential component of your end-to-end quality control strategy.

What is container loading inspection?

A Container Loading Inspection is the process of supervising the loading of goods into a shipping container at the factory or warehouse. This inspection typically occurs after the final Pre-Shipment Inspection (PSI) has been completed and the goods are approved for shipment. The inspector's role is to ensure that the correct quantity of goods is loaded, that they are handled appropriately, and that they are securely packed and sealed for transit, minimizing the risk of damage, loss, or incorrect shipments.

Think of it as the final, meticulous check before the curtain closes on the factory's responsibility and the goods embark on their often-arduous journey across oceans or continents.

Key Benefits of Why Container Loading Inspection is Indispensable

The benefits of a Container Loading Inspection extend far beyond simply counting boxes. It's a proactive measure that mitigates a wide array of risks, ultimately saving time, money, and protecting your brand's reputation.

1. Verification of Quantity and Assortment

This is perhaps the most immediate and tangible benefit. The inspector meticulously verifies that the exact quantity of products ordered is loaded into the container. This includes checking carton counts against the packing list and purchase order. Furthermore, for orders with multiple SKUs or product variations, the CLI ensures that the correct assortment of goods is being loaded. Discovering a significant shortage or an incorrect mix of products upon arrival at your warehouse can lead to severe operational disruptions, stockouts, and strained customer relationships. CLI prevents such costly surprises.

2. Prevention of Shipping the Wrong Goods

In busy factories or warehouses, human error can lead to the wrong products being loaded into a container. This could be items from another order, incorrect models, or even entirely different products. A CLI acts as a crucial last-minute double-check, ensuring that only your specific, approved goods are being shipped. This avoids the logistical nightmare and financial burden of having to ship back incorrect items and await the correct ones.

3. Assurance of Proper Handling and Packaging

The journey of a shipping container can be turbulent. Goods are subjected to vibration, shifting, and potential impacts. The CLI ensures that:

✅ Cartons are in good condition: No damaged, wet, or compromised outer cartons are loaded.

✅ Proper stacking: Cartons are stacked correctly and stably within the container, avoiding excessive empty space or dangerous leaning.

✅ Appropriate protective measures: Whether it's dunnage bags, wooden planks, corner protectors, or desiccant packets, the inspector verifies that all specified protective measures are properly utilized to prevent shifting and moisture damage.

✅ Careful handling: The inspector observes the loading crew to ensure products and cartons are handled with care, minimizing the risk of damage during the actual loading process.

4. Maximizing Container Space Utilization

An efficient loading process is crucial for cost-effectiveness, especially with rising shipping costs. The inspector can verify that the container is optimally utilized, ensuring that space is not wasted due to poor stacking techniques or unnecessary gaps. This helps to maximize the value you get from each container, potentially reducing the number of shipments required for large orders.

5. Verification of Container Integrity and Sealing

Before loading begins, the inspector checks the container itself for any signs of damage, leaks, holes, or previous contamination that could compromise the goods during transit. They also verify that the container is clean and dry. Once loading is complete, the inspector ensures that the container doors are properly closed and sealed with a unique shipping seal, documenting the seal number. This provides proof that the container was secured at the point of origin, helping to prevent tampering, theft, or unauthorized access during transit.

6. Deterrence of pilferage and Tampering

The physical presence of an independent inspector during the loading process acts as a significant deterrent against pilferage or intentional tampering with your shipment. Knowing that an impartial third party is documenting the loading process reduces the likelihood of goods being removed or swapped after the final product inspection has been completed.

7. Crucial Evidence in Case of Disputes or Claims

In the unfortunate event of a dispute with the supplier, shipping company, or insurer due to missing or damaged goods, a detailed CLI report provides invaluable objective evidence. It clearly documents the condition of the container, the quantity loaded, the loading methods, and the seal numbers. This report can be critical in supporting your claim and proving that the goods were loaded correctly and completely at the point of origin. Without this evidence, proving fault can be incredibly difficult.

8. Enhanced Trust and Peace of Mind

For importers, especially those managing complex supply chains remotely, the knowledge that a final, independent check has been performed during the crucial loading stage offers immense peace of mind. It builds confidence in the supplier's commitment to quality and accuracy, and provides a final layer of assurance that your investment is protected before it embarks on its journey. This trust fosters stronger, long-term relationships with reliable suppliers.

What a QC-Easy LTD. Container Loading Inspection Entails

When you choose QC-Easy LTD. for your Container Loading Inspection, you can expect a comprehensive and meticulous process:

✅ Confirmation of Order Details: Verification of the purchase order, packing list, and any special loading instructions.

✅ Container Condition Check: Inspection of the container's interior and exterior for cleanliness, dryness, structural integrity (no holes, leaks), and proper functioning doors.

✅ Quantity Verification: Meticulous counting of cartons against the packing list and purchase order.

Assortment Check: For multi-SKU orders, verification that the correct product mix is being loaded.

✅ Carton Condition Inspection: Checking for any damaged, wet, or poorly sealed cartons.

Loading Process Supervision: Observing the factory's loading crew to ensure proper handling, stacking methods, and utilization of space.

✅ Dunnage and Protection Verification: Ensuring that all specified protective materials (e.g., dunnage bags, corner protectors, desiccant) are used correctly.

✅ Shipping Mark and Label Verification: Confirmation that all cartons bear the correct shipping marks, labels, and barcodes.

✅ Container Sealing and Documentation: Witnessing the container sealing process and recording the unique seal number, along with photographic evidence.

✅ Detailed Report: Provision of a comprehensive report including all findings, observations, photographic evidence, and the documented seal number.

When to Schedule Your Container Loading Inspection?

The CLI should be scheduled at the factory or consolidator's warehouse immediately prior to the container being sealed and transported to the port. This ensures the inspector is present for the entire loading process from start to finish.

Conclusion

Your commitment to product quality should extend all the way to the point of shipment. A Container Loading Inspection by QC-Easy LTD. is not an additional cost; it's a strategic investment that safeguards your goods, streamlines your logistics, and protects your bottom line.

In a global supply chain where variables are abundant, a CLI provides that crucial final layer of control and visibility. It’s the peace of mind knowing that what you ordered, in the quality you expect, is precisely what is being sent your way. Join QC-Easy LTD. to ensure your goods are not only produced perfectly but also arrive perfectly.

[vicc-inspection]

Drive with confidence, choose VICC.com's vehicle inspection service

When it comes to your vehicle, safety and reliability are paramount. That's why you need VICC.com's vehicle inspection service. Our team of expert technicians will meticulously inspect your vehicle from top to bottom, ensuring that it meets the highest standards of quality and performance. Visit us:

Drive with confidence, choose VICC.com's vehicle inspection service

[weprovinginspection]

Professional quality control for manufacturing

www.weprovinginspection.com

[chinainspectionservices]

Securing Standards: Pre-Shipment Inspection Practices in India

Concerned about Pre shipment inspection in India? We are just a phone call away from your doorstep. Our advanced level of Pre shipment inspection can save your time and money by solving problems before shipment, enhance sourcing efficiency, and secure your business interests.

[pure-smut]

you look so beautiful like this.

nsfw headcanons for bokuto koutarou

featuring: Bokuto Koutarou x f!reader

contains: praise kink, creampies, soft s*x, established relationship, a bit of dom!Bokuto, implied multiple rounds

word count: 1.2k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

praise kink

Bokuto’s love language is 100% words of affirmation.

When you’re wanting to show him affection, you know the best thing you can do is cuddle up to his arm and tell him how good he looks today. You can run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair and gush about the date he took you on. You can cup his face and say, “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, Kou” and he’ll melt right on the spot.

You soon find out Bokuto’s weakness for praise goes further than you think.

The first time you sleep together, Bokuto’s being careful with you. He knows he’s big and he would hate himself if he ever hurt you, so he made sure you were well-prepped. Still, when he’s holding himself above you and starts to ease his girth inside your sopping hole, you can feel the stretch of him.

You inhale sharply and Bokuto stills, concern on his face.

“Does it hurt, babe? Are you okay?”

“M’okay, Kou. It’s just…”

“What? What is it?”

“You’re s-so… big.”

Bokuto’s pupils blow out, his cock swelling. He slides in a few more inches, feeling you squeeze him.

“Yeah?” He can’t stop himself from grinning. “You feeling full, babe?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip as he starts to stroke himself deeper. He feels so fucking good, his cock rubbing against just the right spot.

“Tell me,” he instructs softly. “Use your words, baby.”

“Feels s’good…” you whimper. “So big...”

Bokuto groans, picking up speed. He reaches under you to grab your ass, lifting your hips so he can go deeper. You grip his biceps, anchoring yourself.

“I love your cock, Kou,” you gasp between thrusts.

“Fuck… fuck…” Bokuto fucks you harder, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room, the bed rattling off the wall. “Tell me again.”

“I l-love – ah! – your cock…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust as euphoria takes over. “Gonna m-make me-!”

Bokuto feels you cream on his cock as he fucks you relentlessly, his cock harder than it’s ever been. Your words are like music to his ears. To him, the only thing sexier than you under him is when you’re telling him how good he’s making you feel.

It’s only after he’s fucked you through another two orgasms that you realise you might have underestimated who you’re with.

creampies

Bokuto loves to fuck you raw – the intimacy of having skin of skin contact with no physical barriers between you is pure euphoria to him. But it’s what comes after that he especially loves.

Bokuto has you bent over the arm of the sofa after a movie night quickly descended into something more carnal. You’re pinned in place, Bokuto’s large hard wrapped around the back of your neck. His cock reaches so deep in this position, he can feel you clench around him with every stroke, your needy pussy sucking him back in.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts. “I’m not gonna last, baby.”

“Cum for me, Kou,” you encourage, squeezing him tighter. “Cum inside me.”

Bokuto doesn’t need you to say anything else. He unleashes a flurry of curses, his grip on your neck tightening as you feel him flood your pussy. Bokuto stills, grunting as he feels the last of his orgasm before withdrawing.

You make to stand up but Bokuto’s hand hasn’t left the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

“Stay there a sec, babe.”

There’s a second delay and then you feel his fingers on your lips, pulling them apart. His creamy load spills from your well-used cunt, dribbing down your thigh.

“Kou-!”

Bokuto scoops up some of the fluid, smearing it along your folds. He’s hypnotised by the sight of it, your little hole so full of his cum. You wiggle under his touch, feeling a little vulnerable under his inspection.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry, babe, I just… fuck…” Bokuto breathes, feeling his cock harden again. “You look so beautiful like this.”

Your cheeks warm but it only lasts a second before you feel his fat mushroom tip nudging against your entrance once more. You whine as Bokuto sinks his now fully hard cock inside you again, the sloppiness of your cum-filled pussy making the lewdest noises.

“One more, babe,” Bokuto says, fucking his load back into you. “Just one more.”

making love

Bokuto is a sweet soul with a tender heart that’s easily bruised. You know when he’s in one of his emo modes because he makes it very obvious, moping around the house and sighing a lot. He’s touch-oriented at the best of times but when he’s in emo mode, he becomes the huggiest person ever.

You’re lying on the couch when Bokuto comes up to you for a cuddle, lying between your legs to hold one of your thighs, his head on your stomach. His large frame means you’re splayed a bit awkwardly around him but you don’t mind, stroking his hair and telling him how wonderful he is.

“You don’t think that…” he sighs into your thigh.

“Of course I do, Kou,” you assure him, scratching his scalp in the way you know he likes. He leans into your touch. “You’re sweet and kind and funny. And…”

Bokuto turns his head to look up at you, eyes wide and expectant.

“You’re so fucking hot.” You grin down at him.

A slow smile crawls across Bokuto’s face.

“Stop…” he says. “Really?”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Duh. Have you seen your biceps?”

Bokuto grins wide, biting his bottom lip. He turns over to face you, crawling up your body until he’s holding himself over you. When he dips his head to kiss you, it’s not his usual high-energy make out but something slower and softer. You can tell he needs a lot of love right now.

You cup the back of his neck, smoothing your hand up his strong chest. Bokuto reaches down under your dress, gently pulling your panties down as you tug down his shorts. When he slides himself inside you, it’s slow and sensual.

“I love you so much, Kou,” you whisper to him as he presses your foreheads together. “I’ve never loved anyone like you.”

“I love you too,” Bokuto says and his voice breaks slightly. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You wrap your legs around him, holding him close to you. Bokuto usually fucks you hard and fast and full of energy but not when he’s feeling like this. When he’s sad and down on himself, he just needs to feel you while you hold him. Feel you love him physically.

Bokuto’s cock drags slowly against the nerves inside you, sending sparks through your body. You bury your face in his neck and sigh.

“You make me feel so good…” you tell him and he leans down to be closer to you.

His large forearm wraps around you as he hunches over you, keeping up his soft, languid strokes. Your bodies are pressed together, not an inch between you, just the way Bokuto likes. To hear your content sighs and soft moans, your gentle voice as you reassure him while your heavenly pussy makes him feel so good.

When Bokuto spills his cum inside you, his mouth never leaving yours, his heart is so full it could burst.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[dellalyra]

OMG I WAS JUST HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT GOJO AND Y/N IN THEIR TEEN YEARS AND

imagine that back then they had to participate in a talent show or something and megumi and the rest watch the old video tape they found in the darkest corner of the library on campus.

the tape was in a box with a label reading "the best jujutsu tech students' and its just filled with memories of their teen years.

they decide to watch the talent show one and its just chaotic as hell. mid way through megumi, nobara and yuuji get caught watching it lmao

𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

A/N: this request. came in last night - and it’s all I’ve done today because it was so perfect it’s all I could think about. ur amazing ily

CW: swearing, weed, suggestive stuff, mdni i stg shoo

“Itadori! Bring these to the garbage!” Nobara shouts.

“Why me?! Why can’t you do it?!” He retorts as Megumi just rolls his eyes at the two of them, he wonders how they turned into siblings so easily.

“Fushiguro! Tell your boyfriend to take this to the garbage. It’s heavy and he should use his freaky wall-breaking strength for something useful!” She shouts back.

“Eh?! Is exorcising cursed and carrying you like a sack of flour not useful?! Or always carrying all your dumb shopping?!” They’ve broken into an all out sibling squabble by now, Megumi just turns away and continues the task of clearing out the storeroom behind the dojo in the school. Pushing boxes of old files and reports out of the way, he finds a box covered in doodles and stickers, taped shut at the top. He goes to inspect the very out of place container and finds words among the doodles of weirdly shaped beings and flowers.

‘The Best Jujutsu Tech Students.’

“Will you two shut up for two minutes, come look at this.” He says over his shoulder to the two, with Nobara releasing Yuuji from the headlock she somehow got him in.

“Ancient treasure! I told you we’d find something cool.” Yuuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.

“What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean?! We’re clearing out a high school storage room, dumbass.” The girls rolls her eyes.

They inspect the box, trying to figure out the doodles.

“It doesn’t look super old? Open it, Itadori.” Nobara says.

“Will you quit telling me what to do?!” He says, huffing.

While they resumed the bickering, Megumi took a knife he had hidden in the shadows and sliced through the lines of tape holding the box together. The sound alerted the other two who peered into the box alongside him.

“Wait, are they… DVD’s?” Megumi asks.

“Yeah - but they’re homemade ones. Is there a label on them?” His boyfriend says, leaning in to get a closer looks.

The box itself was filled with small DVD cases of many colours - all labelled in a scrawling handwriting the kids felt like they knew.

“There’s a DVD player in the room where I hung out when I was dead.” Yuuji says, and hauls the box up and begins to walk. None of them even needed to discuss whether or not they’d be watching them, like a hive mind - but with maybe two shared brain cells.

They all made their way across campus, to a room in the same building as their Sensei’s office.

Nobara insisted on grabbing snacks from the vending machine en route, and they sat down on the sofa while Yuuji loaded the first date labelled ‘2003, December.” Well, that’s what they think it’s said. The handwriting was such a chicken scratch it almost looked like a doctor’s unintelligible writing.

The screen came to life - sounds buzzing and voices echoing (albeit muffled) as the screen panned from looking at the floor - to the sky, the the floor again. Then - a face came on screen.

A very familiar one - but… a hell of a lot younger.

“Wait… is that -?” Nobara asks.

“Shoko-sensei?!” Yuuji exclaims.

“That’s kinda how she looked when I was a kid. She’s in her uniform, so this must be when she was in school.” Megumi adds.

The camera pulls away from the close up on her face as another figure enters the shot - a man with odd bangs, silky black hair tied up into a bun and piercing dark eyes. He had a lazy smile in his face as he looked into the camera, poking a finger into Shoko’s cheek.

“What the fuck, Suguru?!” She says as she flicks his hand away.

“That’s - that’s Geto Suguru.” Megumi says. Geto had always been a bittersweet topic in their house, only getting worse in the last year and a half since… since he died.

The next action causes a gasp to echo across the room. A smiling face pops up between both figures.

Dark, circular sunglasses perched on a slim, pale nose and a wide, toothy, cheeky smile sat under a mop of shocking white, messy hair.

“Holy shit! That’s -” Yuuji starts.

“Dad.” Megumi whispers, seeing Satoru so young, probably around his age was amazing to him.

“Wow! It’s working! Is it on? Is it filming?” 16 year old Gojo says, voice eerily familiar, but much younger.

The three faces were all staring into the lens of the camera, only visible from the shoulders up. On screen, Shoko looked down and moved her arm and another head popped up from the bottom of the screen, trying to squeeze in.

The head of H/C hair and shiny eyes wiggled their way into the shot between Suguru and Shoko, and under Satoru.

“Did you say it’s on? It on recording right now?” The new figure pokes the camera.

“No fucking way… Fushiguro! That’s -” Nobara says, swirling to look at the taller boy.

“My mom.” He says, eyes fixed on screen. Your face was younger, hair the same as ever, eyes still full of excitement and curiosity and voice slightly higher than it is now. A hand pats the top of your head, a pale one - Satoru.

“Do a dance for the camera, Y/N.” Satoru says, smiling.

And you do a little wiggle in your spot squeezed between everyone as the other three burst out laughing.

The camera cuts off, and the screen changes to a view of the outside - all of them immediately recognising the training field.

In view is Geto and Gojo, sparring at such a ridiculously quick speed it’s barely visible. He could hear giggling behind the screen and recognised the voices of you and Shoko laughing about something that happened in class.

“They’re such show offs.” Your voice says.

“Geto genuinely wants to train, Gojo is just trying to impress you.” Shoko says, voice muffled by something - which he later sees as a lollipop, figuring it out when it gets launched across the field - presumably in retaliation for her comment by you.

“No way, Koko! That’s just dumb, he’s just a show off in general.” Your voice echoes.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.”

The camera cuts off again. The next thing they see is the night sky, and raucous laughter. The camera is being held by Shoko again, and she points it to a view of a rooftop - the flat part of the roof of the dorm building. The camera turns to one Suguru Geto, eyes hazy and smile even more languid than normal. In his hand was a smoking object - which he passed to Shoko.

They were both laughing together about Shoko saying she could see a constellation shaped like a penis, and the hysterical giggles and she rested her head on the boys shoulder told them that the joint in Shoko’s hand was very much affecting them.

There were clambering sounds.

“I can’t reach!” Came your voice, distant and off screen.

“C’mere shortstack, I’ll give you a boost.” The teasing lilt of Gojo’s voice came after.

“Thanks, Jack the Beanstalk.” Your retort sent the two original stars into another round of laughter before you and Gojo enter the frame, both holding a plastic bag of snacks.

Shoko gives you the joint as you sit, and you take a quick puff and pass it back to Suguru. Satoru declines it, saying it makes his eyes feel funny to which you all nod and say ‘makes sense’.

“Did you get me spicy chips?” Suguru asks, combing through the bags.

“Yes. But - you had to tell me you love me to get them.” Satoru says, smirking.

“Gojo Satoru - you are the light of my life, the centre of my world, the reason my heart beats, please, May I have my child you absolute fuckwad.” He says, as Satoru throws his head back laughing and throws a red bag of chips at him before tackling him to the ground demanding a kiss.

You laugh at the scene, turning to Shoko.

“See - that’s how Geto has at least one date every weekend.” You say, opening your chocolate.

“Man-whore.” She responds, sucking on a lollipop.

The screen flashes black. The same view is on the screen, but the atmosphere is much calmer. Suguru lay, head on Shoko’s lap and her deft fingers carding through his hair as he listens to whatever nonsense Gojo is spouting. The camera turns to a view that has Nobara and Yuuji cooing. Satoru is sitting, arm around your back to keep you upright with your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and clearly sleeping.

Suguru’s voice whispers into the camera.

“And these two say they’re not into each other.” Followed by a scoff from Shoko.

Next up is a view of the training field again, with a sight that made the three current first years laugh. Suguru was laying on the grass, and he was bench pressing you - his makeshift weight - as you lay relaxed horizontally reading a book, the casual nature made it clear this was a daily occurrence.

Once his reps are finished, he gently lets you down and you don’t even react, just laying on the grass continuing your book. He stands up and waves to Shoko, who he’s just noticed with her camera and proceeds to take off his shirt and let down his hair.

“Put your damn shirt back on!” Shoko shouts.

“God damn, maybe I should be a curse user.” Nobara utters, whistling and fanning herself.

The camera is next held up by Satoru - who smiles and puts a finger to his lips to symbolise silence, for some reason, like the camera would be unexpectedly loud. He turns the camera and in the backseat of a car is Shoko and you, both asleep and earphones split between you with a bright pink iPod on Shoko’s lap. Her head was resting in the crook of your neck, and you cheek rested on top of your head.

“They really have always been best friends, haven’t they?” Yuuji says. Megumi is reminded of last week, when Nobara and Yuuji fell asleep in the back of Ijichi’s car, in the exact same position.

The camera operator is back to Shoko now, who is filming the most beautiful scenery. Sakura petals are drifting through the air as throngs of people wander around what appears to be a festival. There’s food stalls and trinket stands and everyone around is in their finery.

“Suguru! Show the camera your best pose.” Shoko says, as Suguru appears on screen decked out in a black and grey kimono with his hair in a half up, half down style.

He throws a peace sign at the camera and then takes it so he can film Shoko who’s in a pretty red Yukata pattered with black and white koi. She smiles and then waves as she looks off camera.

“You’re late, Satoru. Where’s Y/N?” She says as Gojo comes on screen.

He’s wearing a dark blue and silver hakama which looks like it cost the same as a house, Suguru wolf whistles and Satoru pretends to fawn over him.

“She was having lunch with her mom, she’s probably going to be here - holy shit.” Satoru says, but cuts himself off halfway as his jaw drops open.

The camera pans messily as Suguru turns to where Satoru is looking.

You’re walking toward them, smile on your face and usually messy hair styled in a beautiful updo, make up making your skin glow in the afternoon sun. You were wearing a light pink, billowy, gauzy hanfu with tiny pale green flowers and leaves around the edges. You did truly look incredibly stunning. You had a little bag in your hand, and the camera flew back to look at Satoru who was gaping at your approaching figure. His usually pale skin flushed with a pink dusting.

His mouth moves, and it seems unconscious when he whispers to himself.

“Beautiful…”

You walk into the frame, smiling brightly and hugging Shoko and then freezing when you see Satoru, eyes widening at the strikingly handsome figure he makes, every inch a fairytale Prince. The pink on your cheek matches your outfit as you stammer out a breathy,

“Hi, Satoru.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He says, mouthing opening and closing as you look at him through fluttering lashes.

There’s a jolt as it seems Suguru holding the camera elbows his best friend and whispers in his ear, just audible to the camera.

“Bro, tell her she looks beautiful, damn it.”

“You… you look um - beautiful, Y/N.” He stammers out, and the three first years watching laugh at how their oh-so-smooth sensei was once such a mess he needed prompting to flirt from his friends.

You flush even deeper.

“Thank you, Satoru. You look really good too. The um… the blue really suits you. The restaurant I had lunch with my mom had Sakura mochi, so I - I got you some.” You say as you shove a small nicely wrapped box at him and Satoru seems to melt. Shoko appears on screen, making a circle with one hand and poking a finger through it repeatedly in a very lewd gesture that has Suguru cackling.

“Wait - they’re not even together yet. They didn’t get together until the end of their second year.” Megumi muses, smirking.

“So they’ve always been this whipped for each other.” Nobara laughs.

The DVD ends there, and Yuuji jumps up to put in the next one, labelled ‘second year’.

The video begins with you sprinting toward Shoko and her catching you in her arms.

“I missed you so much! A whole summer without you, it was torture. How was the medical camp?” You ask her, barely taking a breath between words.

“Did you not miss me, lil’ lady?” Came a smooth voice as one Geto Suguru wraps his arms around you too, and you squeal in excitement. The three standing are then abruptly tackled to the ground as a blur of white and black whizzes toward them.

“Satoru!” Came three scolding voices.

“How the fuck did you do that, you lanky - oh.” Shoko is stopped abruptly as they all stand up and the change in Satoru is clearly visible. Long gone is the beanstalk boy of their first year, all arms and legs at 16 and now at almost 18 - a broad shouldered, 6ft 3, sharper jawline and longer hair Gojo stands before them. You look like you might faint.

The video stops and then resumes looking at a very familiar blackboard, and a much younger Yaga beside it.

In front of the blackboard there’s two students in Jujutsu High uniforms - both in party hats and standing under a banners with ‘Welcome First Years!’ written in big bubble writing on it, the sounds of streamers and party poppers came through the room as the camera was set down on a desk.

Gojo comes on screen and waves his arms as if to show off the two students. One looked incredibly happy, a beaming smile full of excitement and the other looking absolutely miserable, but given how painfully 2005 emo he looked - it wasn’t surprising. Megumi smirked, seeing the blond boy on screen and knowing exactly who it was from photo albums you kept - but he waited to see when the other two would notice.

“Welcome to Yu Haibara! Please - introduce yourself!” Gojo says, pointing a bottle of cola at him like a microphone.

“Hi! I’m Yu! I’m 16 and I like rice and people!” He says, voice full of enthusiasm.

“Thank you! Next up, Gerard Way!” Satoru smiles and point the mock microphone to the other boy.

“Do I have to? This feels unnecessary.” He says, grimacing.

“Yes! You do!”

“Fine. My name is Nanami Kento -”

Megumi didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a chorus of ‘What the fuck!?’ Echoes from the two beside him.

“Nobara, rewind that - I think I heard it wrong, I thought the emo kid said his name was Nanami, hah!” Yuuji exclaims.

“No need. You heard right.” Megumi smirks.

“No fucking way! That’s Nanamin?!” Yuuji is smiling so wide at the sight of his mentor as a moody teen.

“Yup. I remember his hair like that, he had a lip ring and a nose ring too. Geto Suguru pierced his nose with Shoko’s med kit for him when they drank too much whiskey at my mom’s 18th. There’s a picture of them doing it framed in their room at home.” Megumi scoffs a laugh, the other two in shock at the revelation.

The camera stops again and next time is looking from an upstairs window as voices whisper.

“What is she doing?” Shoko asks.

“It looks like she’s talking?” Geto asks.

“There’s a tiny spike in her cursed energy - wait, I’ll try see if there’s someone around.” He says and the clink of his sunglasses hitting the windowsill breaks the quiet.

On screen, there’s you in a pair of fluffy blue pyjamas and a winter knitted hat as you seem to be kneeling and ushering something small out of a bush. Satoru seems to have gotten distracted and the camera pans to him - who’s just staring out the window with the most dopey, lovestruck smile on his face.

“Satoru.” Suguru says, flicking his ear.

He snarls, but blushes.

“I - I can’t tell but, it kinda seems like? She is trying to talk to something.” He says, as they all crane their necks as you pull something into your arms and stand up, taking off your hat and tucking whatever you found into it and scurrying back inside.

An obnoxious ringtone of crazy frog blasts through the room and Satoru flips open his phone and answers it.

Since it’s you, he puts it on speaker.

“Hey, Satoru - are you still at the store? I - kinda need something, urgently.” Your voice asks.

“Eh - yeah, I’m at the store. What do you need?” He says, trying to hush the two sniggering traitors beside him who are fully aware that he came back from the store an hour ago and is sitting in Suguru’s dorm with them.

“I - um, I need kitten milk.” Your voice says, just as the camera cuts off.

The next few videos are just videos on videos on you and a tiny, tiny kitten, feeding it from a small bottle and it sleeping on your chest, or Satoru playing with it and a ball of wool in hysterical laughter. One video is taken by Shoko with Suguru in the frame playing with the kitten who is trying to catch his bangs and on the sofa, is you sitting on Satoru’s lap, as he looks at you adoringly and you giggle and place a kiss on his lips. Given that it’s about 3/4 of the way through your second year, it means you’re freshly together after torturing your friends with mutual pining.

Megumi looks closer at the kitten, and the tabby is very recognisable to him - given that to this day, the hairs of that kitten, now 13 years old and still thriving due to your unwavering spoiling, still decorate any black fabric in your home.

“Is that baby grumpy George?!” Nobara asks, hitting the nail on the head.

The video fades again, and then the screen is illuminated by a makeshift stage in the school sports hall. Another large banner is on the wall, with ‘Talent Show’ written in large writing, Megumi now noticed the big bubble writing was the same as had been on every ‘happy birthday’ banner he’d had every year.

The announcer, he recognises as a smiling principal Yaga - even though this is surely not a school organised or endorsed event, but probably the work of the couple he now calls his parents.

“Welcome to Jujutsu Talent Show! The rules of tonight are as follows a) no cursed techniques or cursed energy and absolutely no sabotaging! Panda! Do you want to say who’s going first?” Yaga announced as he lifts up a baby panda and the voice of the baby says “Nanami and Yu!”.

Yu skips on stage, decked out in a cape patterned with stars and a large top hat, followed by a very sullen Nanami Kento, adorned with a nose and lip ring now.

“Ladies, gentlemen, cursed corpses! My name is Yu the Magic Man and this is my assistant, the Fantastical Nanamin! Does anyone here like rabbits?” He announced, and takes off his hat, revealing a stuffed rabbit on his head - commencing the world’s worst magic show. The highlight was definitely Yu asking Nanami to pull the scarf from his sleeve and after pulling and pulling and pulling, a very frustrated Kento growls ‘Fucking hell, Yu - how long is this thing?’ Completely breaking what little mysticism surrounded the performance. Geto didn’t help, when he muttered ‘that’s what she said’ after Nanami’s complaint, setting the second years off.

After a bow to his rapt audience, and lots of cheering and supportive clapping from you all - the first years leave and Yaga announces the next performance.

A loud bang echoes through the room,

“Holy shit!” Your voice, the 28 year old you, carries through the room as three heads spin around to see their sensei’s back, arms supporting the thighs around his waist, belonging to his wife who’s lipstick is smudged across her cheek and her husband’s face. The white haired man’s white shirt was partially unbuttoned and your sweater had fallen completely off you shoulder - combined with the position you entered the room and the ruined cosmetics it was quite clear why the teachers had stumbled into this forgotten room of jujutsu tech.

“Get a fucking room.” Megumi grumbles.

“We were! But you’re here! And just for that I’m gonna tell you that the sofa you’re sitting on was where Akio was conceived.” Gojo retorts, trying to fix himself as all the kids groan.

“Both of you, hush. ‘Toru - look at the screen.” You were transfixed on the paused screen.

“Wait! Is that - that’s our talent show! From second year! Where did you guys find this?” Satoru says, leaping over the back of the sofa and plopping down but not before turning around and picking you up by the waist and sitting you in his lap.

“I thought all the DVD’s were lost! Koko couldn’t find them after we graduated!” You say, as you keep staring at the screen.

“We were clearing out the storage room, like Ijichi asked and we found a funky box with DVD’s in it.” Yuuji says.

“Oh my god! Press play!” You say, clapping.

“Look at angry Nanamin!” Gojo says, smiling.

“Next up is Y/N and Shoko!” Screen Yaga announces.

You and Shoko are dressed in the most colourful outfits ever, you’re beaming and Shoko looks exhausted. Large headbands, crimped hair, tutu skirts, leggings, neon leg warmers and beads were the costume of choice as Geto stood on one side of the stage.

“Welcome to - Y/N and Shoko’s dance bonanza!” You both say, and Geto presses play so that Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun plays to match the 80s Cyndi Lauper style outfits. Having danced ballet as a little girl, and being a big fan of Just Dance and Dance Dance Revolution - you decided that you and Shoko would do this for the show, exhausted and unenthusiastic - but endlessly loyal to her best friend and determined to not let Gojo win the show. You guys danced a perfectly in sync routine with 28 year old you shouting ‘Oh my god, I still remember the routine!’ Halfway through. Yuuji was hopping along on the sofa beside Megumi.

Before Shoko could collapse into a heap as the song finished, she was thrown over Suguru’s shoulder and hauled off stage with Gojo doing the same for you.

After a brief intermission, Geto and Gojo were welcomed on stage in matching black tuxedo’s, off camera your voice could be heard saying ‘ugh, I’m gonna climb that man like a tree later, suits are the best.’

“Ladies, gents - tonight welcome to The GS squared stand up comedy show, enjoy your night and Geto’s number is available after the show.” Gojo drawls into the mic.

Megumi didn’t expect the routine to be as funny as it was, everyone especially enjoyed the part where they did impressions of different Jujutsu Elders, including Naobito Zen’in and Principal Gakuganji - which were unnervingly accurate but highly offensive to them, especially when Gojo got on his knees to imitate how short the elder Kyoto principal was and Geto kept playing Looney Tunes on the projector to show Naobito’s ‘cursed technique’.

When the audience were thoroughly hysterically laughing, with the audience being Yaga, MeiMei, Panda, Y/N, Shoko, Yu, Kento and Utahime who was visiting Shoko for the weekend, the boys bowed, winked and walked off stage and the camera caught Gojo bending down to whisper something in his ear which had you looking at the sky and blushing - still getting used to openly loving each other.

The voting wasn’t recorded, but the winners announcement was and it was shown to be Yu and Nanami - who everyone, except for themselves had voted for.

“Oh my god, these are priceless! I can’t believe I got even funnier with age, and look at your cute little outfit, princess!” Satoru coos.

“There’s a whole box of them, we’ve only watched 2!” Yuuji says, bouncing and handing the box to you and Satoru.

“No way, it’s the whole box! I remember decorating it with Koko! Hold on, I’m gonna ring her to come here.” You say as you take out your phone, smiling at the lockscreen of Satoru, Megumi and your 6 month old son and pulling up Shoko’s contact to ring her to ‘get her ass down here for a surprise’.

“Oh, ‘toru! I bet our DVD of our trip together to Fiji in the summer of third year, Shoko lent us her came for it!” You say, wrapping your arms around him and settling in while Yuuji loads the next DVD.

“Classes are cancelled, I’ve decided it’s home movie day - do we have any popcorn?” Satoru says, smiling at how fondly Megumi is looking at the screen, a still pause screen of himself and you smiling in the training yard together - still looking as lovingly at each other 13 years later. Yuuji has his arm wrapped and Megumi’s shoulders and is leaning into him, as the dark haired boy rubs circles on his boyfriend’s knee - Nobara has her legs stretched across the laps of both boys as the newest video begins.

The door swings open, Shoko entering -

“No fucking way! You found them! Kids, move up - let Aunty Koko sit.” She says, plopping herself between the arm and her two best friends, her nephew and their bonus kids.

She’s glad she bought that camera.

[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?”

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Lab Experiment Cow Hybrid + Farmer Reader [Commission]

Request: I’m thinking a farmer reader stumbles upon Carnis hiding in the barn absolutely terrified and [they] have to coax them inside with sweets and get them into a warm bath and untangle and braid their hair and take care of them

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: None, Fluff

-

It's about that time of the week again. Reserves plenty full as is. 

Jury's hung over whether the dentists in town despise you, or would sooner pat you on the back for your hand at delaying business. To think it all began with you being a pushover. The delight in those little eyes when you relented to the inquisitive nudges driven at your sides, panning off the last few bites of a candy bar you'd been nursing on that entire morning to the pesky bovine in exchange for a piece of mind. 

From that day on, you began noticing an increasing amount of wrappers discarded around your property correlating with frequent visits from the local children. To negate the overfeeding of your animals, or the greater offense of giving them something they shouldn't consume, you organized a section of your front porch for the kids to leave their offerings for you to inspect at hours your hands were free. Extra treats for your livestock, and for yourself when nobody was looking. 

Set up wasn't anything fancy- A tightly sealed bucket propped by the leg of an old rocking chair thrown in by the sellers of the land free of charge. Leaving the treats out in the open left them vulnerable to the grubby hands and teeth of a certain brand of trespasser on your property. With school back in session, you haven't bothered to sort through the cache as often as you during the winter or summer season, but that didn't mean there was any shortage of supply. The last time you checked, you barely managed to lift the container off the ground. Between this and the manual labor, your back is bound to be….

That's strange- 

Ground your weight into your legs in preparation for the heavy load, you lift the bucket from its spot on your porch with surprising ease - the shift in heft immediately clicking in your mind. Upon second examination, you discover one of the latches disjointed from its hinge; fingerprints evident in the sticky residue left behind. Too human to be a raccoon. Too large to be the doing of one of the younger kids. An older kid, or perhaps more shameful the work of an adult- As if you were any better.

“Now who's gone and stolen these kids' candy?” If that's anyone's job, it's yours. Couldn't have been too long ago. The container was stuffed to the brim the last time you dug through it not even two nights ago. With the freshness of the stains, there was a small chance they were still on your farm. If they were willing to take candy, there's no letting what else those sticky fingers might latch onto. 

Fortune being on your side, it didn't take long to spot the first clue. Descending the short flight of steps, foil crinkles beneath the bottom of your work boots. Peeling it from your heel, the fond memory of that sweet girl just down the road offering up her favorite chocolate to her favorite cow comes to mind. You make a mental note to remember the brand the next time you head to the store as you pocket the wrapper. 

Following in its wake, strips of torn packaging battle the evening wind - wedged snuggly betwixt the branches of a brush right outside your home. The next you locate beneath the wheel of your truck. More and more pop up in places you'd be last to check. Beneath the leg of a chair left out for guests. Inside a wheelbarrow with a hind wheel you've yet to fix- Parked centimeters away from the slightly ajar door of the barn. Your barn. 

In all your years as a rancher, you never left that door open. Too high a risk of the livestock wandering in and starting a fuss when you allowed them to roam free. Between their feed and the delicate machinery inside, it wasn't the safest place to leave them- Or anyone for that matter.

“Hello?!”

Prying the door open, your voice echoes in conjunction with the cry of its rusted joints. Silence is a common acquaintance within the four walls of that old barn. You'd trade that familiar friend for any inkling sound as you tentatively cross the threshold inside.

“Is anyone in here?! If you're the one who stole all that candy, I'm not mad! It's not safe for you to be in here!”

Though you were a little peeved, they didn't need to know that. It wasn't the end of the world either way I'd the rest of your belongings were untouched. 

The affirmation of your placidity towards the theft stirs something hidden under the blanket of shadows shrouding the interior of the barn. A whimper - coupled with the shuffling of feet from what you can decipher. 

“You… D-do you promise you're not mad?” 

That voice.. You can't recall a single one in town quite like it. How can a voice that hoarse and scratchy sound so…meek? Timid even. Edging on the tips of your toes, you peer around the wall of hay bales separating you - scrunching your brows as your eyes adjust to the darkness. 

“It's just candy. Easy to replace. Can't say the same for all the equipment around you, so why don't you come out?”

A hand slinks shyly into your feeding vision - shriveling back with the slightest movement on your part. What looks to be the tip of a bull's horn darts away out the corner of your eye - strangled moans and sniffles sounding from the abyss. 

“S-safe… I don't k-know… Don't know if it's safe to come out. Too s-soon… Afraid they'll find m-me.. Afraid you'll…” 

The voice hiccups - breathes spiking in intake as it curls in on itself. 

“Hey, Hey! Don't cry!” Your shout only startles the voice more, shaking as it babbles out-

“S-sorry… I was just so h-hungry… ‘m sorry… I know I'm b-bad for stealing, but please- Please don't m-make me go away… I'm sorry…”

Digging through your pocket, you fish out the crumpled wrapper, waving it in the air. 

“This is your doing from what I understand….”

The voice croaks, “y…yes…”

“If you come out, you can have another. It's not stealing if I give it to you. I just want to talk to you.”

No response. You start to question if they've dissipated into thin air until-

“You don't t-think?... You don't think I'm bad?”

“I don't know enough about you to have any opinion on you, but if someone's stealing because they're starving - they aren't the worst person in the world.”

Your eyes follow the upwards trajectory of the subtle outline of a figure as they stand - your head leant back in consideration of their full height. A leg sprouts from behind the hair - At first glance, it's tricky to render the layers of dirt caked onto their skin from the inch thick, dotted line sprawled up the length of their calf; disappearing beyond the skirt of their tattered medical gown. As their second foot enters your sight, a dangling cord catches your guard - swishing freely against the soil floor. Fuzzy, a large tuft of fur bristled at its end. 

It's a tail.

The person, if you can even call them that, avoids your curious gaze as your eyes shoot up to the horns atop their head. Through that thick head of hair, you can faintly see tears clinging for dear life to their lashes. You don't need to tell them what they've probably already heard. Not now anyway. You've extended your olive branch, best to leave questions for later. 

“Guess you weren't stealing at all to begin with. That bucket of candy was for the cows anyway.” 

Even in the gloom of the desolate barn, you can see the shine in their eyes. 

-

“So… Carnis? Is that your name?”

Suckling the same piece of caramel they picked out from your treasure trove of sweets, the cow bows their head in a nod.

“name… It's the one I p-picked out…my name… So, it's mine, right?” 

“Pretty sure that's how that works. Carnis, my name is Y/n.” 

“Y/n.” The hybrid’s ears hang rested at either side of his head. “That's a n-nice name. Pretty… O-or whatever works best for you. Nice to m-meet you… Y/n.”

“It's nice to meet you too, Carnis. Now that we're well acquainted and on the fast track at becoming friends, don't you think it's about time for you to get in the tub?”

“n…no?”

The blanket you gave him is better off as a wash rag for your car at this rate. It'll take a lot of elbow grease to get that filth out. Fortunately, it should come out far easier on human- cow skin, but you won't be able to find out with their reluctance on stepping foot in your bathroom. 

“I don't… like bathing. It h-hurts… My.. my.. caretakers scrubbed too hard. The water was too c-cool too….”

Their skin crawls at the recollection. It'd be cruel of you to laugh at what seems to be a trigger of some kind for them, but the disbelief at it all as you befuddled. 

“Too cold? Is that what you're scared of? Radiator needs to be fixed more often than I'd like, but I assure you the water is just fine at the moment. Here, take my hand. I'll show you.”

You've been kind so far. Given him food, a soft blanket. It isn't too soon to trust you, is it? Too risky…

“O-okay…”

Trailing behind you, you guide Carnis into the bathroom and over to the tub. The walls are white. That same porcelain shell they're all too familiar with, but - that's something more. A hairbrush. An assortment of dental products; crisp scent of toothpaste still evident in the sink. Shower currents fitted to your personal tastes. It wasn't just another bath. 

It was a home.

“H-hot!”

The cow rips their hand away as if they've just touched a hot stove. 

“Oh, I'm sorry- Too hot for you? We can let it cool while I get you something proper to ea-”

“It's okay!” Not realizing the volume of their voice, the hybrid slaps a hand over their mouth, whispering in a softer tone. “Just.. w-wasn't expecting that. It feels.. good. Can you… turn around?”

“Of course. I only intended on helping you with your hair. You've got so much, it'd be a shame to lose it if you aren't ready to part with it.”

His hair? The thought trickles from Carnis’ mind as the steam from the bath calls out to him, beckoning them in. They nearly forgot to remove their undergarments in the process, peeling them off at the last seconds before diving in. 

The wave of relief hits them like a bulldozer. They doubt they'd feel the pain of an event of that caliber in this state. The heat of the water envelopes them, blankets them in a perfect state of being. If the world ended right then and there, they would almost be okay with it.

“Carnis?”

A voice as welcoming as the water bubbling around them prevents them from accepting that fate.

“Carnis?”

Their eyes feel heavy. They haven't gotten a fair night of sleep since they escaped. When have they ever?

“Carnis.”

Just a few more seconds. Just let them dream…

“Carnis!”

“Wah!”

Water rains down on you as they flail about. It wasn't just a dream. They're in a bathtub. Inside a house. A nice house, owned by a nice human.

“S-sorry! Didn't mean too-”

“It's alright, these are my work clothes anyway. I'll take a quick shower once I'm done with you.”

Something ticks in their chest. Why waste more precious hot water separately when you could bathe with them?”

“Your hair is really matted, Carnis. I'm gonna try to wash it out and see what we can salvage. Is that okay with you?”

You haven't given them any reason not to trust you yet- “Mm…mmh..” 

“Now, just relax. I'm going to take care of you. This might sting a little because it's going directly on your scalp.”

Carnis has experienced worse than a little warm water- They barely flinch as you collect water in a small cup, bridging your palm at their forehead to prevent any from spilling into their eyes. A satisfied hum gurgles from the depths as Carnis sinks against the back of the tub. It didn't hurt much. Didn't hurt at all. It was the best thing they'd felt in a long time.

“You like that do you? Let's see how you like this-” Opening the bottle of shampoo, you pray you'll have enough as you lather your hands in the solution - working your fingers through their tangled mop of hair down to the roots. Purrs vibrate the water as you carefully scratch at their scalp - twitching ears flicking suds straight in the direction of your eyes.

“Carnis!” Shutting your eyes before the damage could be done, you can't fight the laughter this time around. “I can't wash your hair for you if I'm blind!” 

A garbled, “Sssorrrry”, is their best rendition of an apology. 

It wasn't easy. The workout your poor fingers received combing through that rat's nest surpassed the typical exertion working a day out on the field. Two even. You managed to locate the remainder of candy wrappers bits missing from the scraps you found outside. Not wanting to be total deaf weight, Carnis washes the rest of their body as you focus on their hair - falling beneath the spell of your magical fingers more often than not. 

At the end of several grueling hours, you throw your exhausted hands through the final ring of labor as you weave their mid-back length hair into a braid for ease, sitting on the toilet lid to relieve your aching knees and back of the strain from your awkward position at the side of the tub.

“What do you think?”

Carnis staring longing at himself in the mirror, tracing their fingers over your finished work. “Pretty… I'm… w..wait… Can b-boys be.. pretty?” 

“Don't see why they can't be.” A firm hand to their back straightens him like a pole. You stifle another giggle. “You're welcome to stay as long as you want. You don't have to start today, or tomorrow, but I would appreciate some help around the farm as long as you stick around. I'll go whip us up some real food to eat. Hope you're not too full on sweets.”

Your departure is immediate, yet Carnis finds himself gazing fondly at the carpet where you stood. They can stay… That means, your home is now his. And you… Where was a person like you sooner in their life? They were a complete stranger just a few hours ago, and you welcomed them into your home, your life with open arms.

Carnis doesn't know what he did to deserve a person like you, but they'll do anything to protect you. 

You, and their new home. 

[kabr0ztrousers]

I am also a big fan of minotaurs - u might have gathered that from my last request lol 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️ (but ik you are too!!) What about a fem reader who catches/traps a mintotaur and milks THEM for a change?? lots of cum, bondage, maybe a bit of inspection kink? i feel like that would be hot, but pls exercise your full artistic licence. can’t wait to see what u come up with ! 🥵❤️‍🔥

-🪽

Kabr0z Writes episode 110: Bull Milk

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

This series also on Ao3!

CWs: bondage; intoxication; somno; semen collection; oral sex

A/N: I'm grateful for the outpouring of suggestions after yesterday's (kinda) double bill! I remind you all, this show runs on requests so if you have an idea, even if you're not sure about it, send it in!

########################################

Alchemy is messy business at the best of times. When you've been given a commission to produce potions of libido and fertility for the local monarch, it only gets messier. Most of the reagents aren't too bad: some garlic oil, some honey, mandrake, powdered bezoar, stuff any self-respecting alchemist's kit would contain. The real problem was the key component. Minotaur cum, freshly squeezed.

That's what brought you to this windswept plain. Nothing but dry grass and dust as far as the eye can see which, on the few moments the scathing wind dies down, is pretty damn far. The plan was simple enough: trap a minotaur and extract semen. Get a hundred or so fluid ounces, then you could get back to the city. The only hard part is actually trapping a minotaur without him deciding you look like his next meal, or his mate.

You'd brought windbreaks with you, long strips of canvas, as wide as you are tall. Setting them up was a nightmare but as the last pole sank into the sunbaked soil, the breaker itself can be tied to them and immediately makes a barrier to the whipping dust. Within hours you'd made a dune, a ridgeline in the plain, invisible from one side, a six-foot drop on the other into a dozen tanglevines. They'd hold a minotaur, no problem. At least for the day or so until they start to rot.

Now just to find a minotaur. It's an audacious plan, It'll only work from one direction, but you had faith. Lying on your dune in the dawn light, you scanned the horizon through a spyglass. Sure enough, the lumbering mountain that is a plains minotaur came across the grasses. You blew on a hunting horn you'd purchased. The roar of a minotaur in rut echoed from your instrument. The one noise guaranteed to bring a raging bull-man tearing towards you. He hadn't seen you yet, minotaurs have terrible eyesight at range, and he's only on the edge of the range of your spyglass.

You ducked behind your dune and waited for the inevitable. The minotaur thundered up the slope, missed his step, and tumbled into the waiting trap. Tanglevines whipped around him, pinning his arms to his broad torso, wrapping his legs together. The beast was felled into a snorting, struggling heap. Your bag opened. A little of the pinkish one, a touch of the green, maybe a dab of the vermilion powder for luck. A quick shake, and you'd made what you reckoned would be enough to settle him down. One way to find out.

You filled a syringe with the mixture, hedging your bets by using a dose on the low end for what you'd really want to give 300lbs of prime beef that's trying its hardest to break free in order to kill and-or fuck you. That loaded into a gun of sorts, and then was poised at the thrashing beastie. A click. A thud. The drug worked fast, and we was quietened.

You stepped up to him, rolling the monster to his back. You'll have to work fast, and in the open air. The horn will have been heard by more than just one, if you're lucky you'll meet a dozen or so heifers looking to join an up-and-coming harem. If you're unlucky, you'll get a beast the size of this one charging you.

You checked his pulse. Still alive. Good! A hammer to the knee told you his reflexes were still working, which is also promising. His breathing was slow and deep, like an induced sleep. Which is, of course, exactly what you've put him under. Satisfied he's still functional and not likely to wake up and murder you, your attention turned to the business end of the beast.

Feral minotaurs only fashion clothes where it's cold. These plains aren't chilly enough to need them, so they don't bother. As a result, his sack was exposed for all to see. Large, pendulous balls, stinking of testosterone and musk. Exactly what you need. You laid your hand on one, watching it droop away from the warmth of your touch. His penis hid within the prepuce, or "sheath" as less scientific minds refer to it. Exposure of the phallus is simple. You grabbed the base of the sheath, grasping the semi-soft flesh within. His cock extended slowly as the beast mooed softly in his sleep. You could only imagine the buxom cow woman he was envisioning as you held him. The cock grew until well over eighteen inches long, and four in diameter at the flare. Your hand struggled to wrap around it even at the thinnest point, just where the meat of the shaft reaches the flared head.

Now for the fun part. You grabbed a length of tubing from your bag, hooking it up to a modified waterskin. The end of the tube slid into the insensible minotaur's urethra, and you got to work.

Your hands rubbed his cock up and down, trying to keep him hard and stimulate him enough to get what you came for. The gentle huffing and snorting from his mouth told you you're on the right path, but you're going to need more... Direct methods.

You abandoned the tube idea. Fitting a funnel to your collection vessel, you sat on his belly. The cock in front of you smelled just as much as his balls, thick musk cut with acidic sweat and stale cum. Once experienced, never forgotten. You steeled yourself, holding on to the cock with both hands as you leant over it. You planted a kiss on the head of his cock.

The whole thing throbbed. Your tongue traced the edge of his sensitive flare. You watched as he oozed great drops of precum, spilling out of him in a sticky, slow moving river. The smell of the fluids emanating from him made you gag, but they also made you wet. One of your hands slid from his cock, sneaking under the waistband of your trousers to get at your moist cunt.

On and on he leaked, on and on you rubbed. You could feel yourself getting closer. You were getting off to this feral beast in front of you. His cock was so hard in your hand, spitting globs of thick, stinking precum that covered your mouth and chin. Your cunt buzzed with sensation, your breath quickened with his. You shifted your hand, focusing on your tingling clit as you crested your peak, sucking his juices straight out of his cock as you groaned into it.

Seconds later, he started to cum. You pulled the cock over, aiming the stream of thick white spunk into the funnel. Pulse after pulse shot into the skin, filling it up gradually as you watched his balls churn. Every pump of the cock in your hand made his balls tighten a little more. The skin passed halfway full, still he showed no signs of stopping. Ever more of his potent seed flowed out of him.

Eventually you got enough, stoppering the skin and letting him pump the last few ropes of cum over his broad chest.

This potion's going to be great

####################################

It's so weird to do a Dominant reader again so soon! Don't worry, back to my usual tricks soon

Once again, thanks for reading and remember, I won't know your request until you send it, and my ask box is open for exactly that

[occamstfs]

Quite The Hangover

The last one was a tad cerebral so I went a little more physical for this one! Twink to impossibly horny jock, hope y'all enjoy ! -Occam

Foggy memories slowly rise to the forefront of his mind as he pours himself a glass of water and starts a tea kettle going. He stares at the outfit on the floor in shock as it is definitely not the usual attire of the men he sleeps with. Also, why on Earth is his whole outfit here if he apparently departed before Mattie woke up?

Mattie looks down at his body as he shivers and realizes he should probably throw something on, as he continues to wake up and start to steep some green tea he notices a definite soreness start to burn within him as he finds confirmation that he definitely bottomed last night. “God that fucker better have used a condom!” He twists and turns to inspect his body before getting dressed and finds little of note besides the soreness and a sporadic bruise or two.

Mattie decides if he left his clothes here surely this man left some identifying information and despite his incredible hangover he begins to groggily sleuth through the man’s abandoned clothes. There’s a tank top and a visibly filthy jockstrap lying over the couch, Mattie grimaces and wonders what on Earth could have had him bring home someone so far outside of his standard fare. Inspecting the jockstrap further that he thoughtlessly picks up only to find it stained with pre that now similarly mars his own hands. “Eugh god what was I thinking! Clearly I wasn’t, ah-”

As he raises his voice his headache piques once more, his vision goes white and he leans against the couch for balance, hands planted on the sweaty shirt and jock. Eyes slammed shut he makes a labored return to the kitchen to grab his tea. Before anything else he needs to at least try and get back to a base level of functionality. Uncharacteristically he neglects to wash his pre-covered hands before grabbing the steaming cup. 

He begins to drink his tea holding out for any modicum of relief, psychosomatic as it may be, and as he does so he finds a pleasant warmth begin to grow within him. Not in his stomach or chest as expected though, instead it starts to spread outward from the soreness in his ass before it begins to surge in waves into his crotch. Mattie grunts as a strange powerful pleasure begins to overcome him. His hangover immediately disappears as he sets down his cup of tea to palm his crotch.

He feels as his cock pulses with the waves of pressure surging from within him. It immediately pulses into the hardest erection Mattie can recall. His cock struggles against his briefs as they feel tighter than they have ever been before, almost as if they’re fully sizes too small. He moans loudly before covering his mouth with his other hand, absentmindedly getting this mystery man’s pre all over his face, impossible to miss as its odor begins to overload his mind, this pleasure, this warmth is the only thing that matters to him.

The sound of a tear rings throughout the room as his cock grows beyond its containment. Mattie falls to the floor as he is overcome by pleasure beyond reason resounding in mind from every corner of his body as his balls swell and pull up and he shoots a load larger than should be possible onto the kitchen floor. His eyes flutter and roll back as he returns to unconsciousness once more, lying in a pool on the floor as a warmth grows deeper within him and begins to work its influence on him.

As he lies there he dreams of a man's beard scratching his face at a bar as they make out. He feels his body leaning against this larger man, sweaty muscle rubbing against his smaller body. He feels something start to soak his shorts as he looks down to find himself sitting in the man's lap as pre began to pool. Street lights pass overhead as he pulls a behemoth in the direction of his apartment, arm straining as two two stumble towards their destination.

Mattie wakes up on the cold kitchen floor groaning as the heat has decidedly been replaced by a pervasive soreness, he stretches still face down on the floor feeling his torso slide on something wet and he feels a cock much weightier than it should be bump against the floor. He promptly rolls over and looks at his crotch, finally prescient enough to see that it has indeed expanded in every regard. He blushes and looks down at it, dumbstruck that he now has pipe large enough to put any man he’s been with to shame. Not only that but he suddenly has pubes thicker and darker than they ever should be. He had just shaved before going out had he not?

He continues to inspect his crotch, though his eyes do not notice the treasure trail that grows well into his torso. Instead his mind is suddenly preoccupied as a memory emerges, he has seen a cock exactly like this one. He is exactly as hung as the man he brought home last night. As soon as it does his mind is once more struck, as if a flashbang went off, and he feels the impossible weight of a hangover once more. 

He groans and stands once more, stumbling as he finds himself standing ever so slightly taller than he was before his collapse. He feels new hair scratch between his thighs as his pubes begin to thicken and fan out even further from his crotch. On the other side his ass has clearly grown significantly plumper while he was conked out on the floor. Hidden from his eyes he does not see the forest of hair that is absolutely pouring out of his crack and rising up his back. He even scratches at his expanded butt, though notices nothing out of the ordinary beyond a pleasurable itch.

He slams his hand against the wall, struggling to find the switch as his arm swings at a distinctly different angle than he’s accustomed to. After a few attempts each with more force than the last he finally gets the lights, his eyes take time to adjust and as they do he stumbles against the wall in shock. His soreness immediately makes sense as he sees a body that has spent more time in the gym in a week than he has in his life entire. 

He sees as his chest grows weighter, tracing desperate patches of hair from where he laid in his own cum as the anxiety of his changed body begins to force heat through him once more. He inspects his face as he sees patchy stubble begin to poke out where he spread the mystery man’s pre earlier. His upper lip itches and tingles beyond reason as a mustache bursts out of his perpetually clean shaven face.

 His jaw begins to sharpen underneath and he grunts to hear a deeper voice reverberate through him. He stretches his shoulders as he feels them uncomfortably pull against the wall behind him, they spread larger as he does and he mouth tries to form a cocky smirk as he takes his body in before the shock and stress return anew. He twitches as his body forces him into a standing crunch as abdominal muscles push out of his ‘til now formless core as his pubes stray thicker towards and above his stomach. 

It has to be that guy, maybe it’s an STD or something. It’s gotta be an uh, hallucination or something for sure. He tries to find any reasonable excuse for what’s happening to him, doing so though his mind begins to grow foggy as rationality becomes an increasingly difficult target to hit. Each new thought, every attempt to find reason, to press onward, to remember who he is falls flat as his anxiety triggers an all too pleasurable to ignore feeling in his crotch. 

“No urgh, not again…” He grunts out, each word deeper than the last as he slides down to the floor, his thicker ass and thighs cushioning his fall as the scratch of his tiled wall sends pangs of intense desire into his mind. As he lies there trying not to touch his surging crotch as his balls demand attention, an image appears in his mind. He sees the face of the man- He strains to focus his attention to the image, doing so only increases his lust before he notices. Wait, is that? Is that not his face?

He feels stubble scratch his hand as he rubs his sharper jawline, one all too similar to the man in his mind's eye. He feels a pang of something deep within him besides the lust, something crying out and encouraging him not to give in. Though how can one voice win out when everything else in his body compels him to seek pleasure. What a simple act to follow as well, his cock hanging in the air in front of him, if he just hammers out a quick one he can get right back to uh, what was he doing? 

He stares hungrily at his pulsing dick, seeing pre stream down it in a fashion it has never done before. Or has it? He sees countless jockstraps soiled flash behind his eyes as if it is indeed a regular occurrence. He motions to give in, but before even laying a hand on his cock he loses control once more, shooting load after load onto himself, staining his hair as his mind goes totally numb to the pleasure. His eyes go dark once more as but a moment passes.

He remembers lying on top of this massive man on his couch. He sees a smirk on his face and Mattie reflexively matches it in the present. He sees the man’s cock surge just as his has done oh so many times this morning alone. He sees himself sitting on it as he recalls going at it for what seems like forever. Before he is simply back in his bathroom.

He towels off his mess neglecting to see his hair has pulled into something far shorter and more masc than he ever would choose and his beard has filled out outright. He feels the burning on his chest shift to something more soothing, instilling him with confidence alongside his insatiable lust. Hair grows dense and dark across his whole body and he barely catches himself before he starts drooling at his own reflection.

He remembers he had something important to do this morning, he disrobes of his torn underwear as he leaves the bathroom to see a jock lying on the couch. He isn’t sure if it’s his or uh, whose else would it be yeah? He guesses he must have laid these out for himself right? He throws them on before hearing his phone chime. Oh duh, surely if it’s something important he would have set a reminder yeah?

He struggles to remember his phone password as his mind grows sluggish, finding the pace at which he is to think at from now on. He holds it up to his face and it immediately opens, deep in his subconscious this bothers him though as he is greeted to a twink's nudes he can’t find it within him to be bothered by anything. He gets a text from some trade looking guy named Lou. “Sup Bro!!! Hows it hangin this morning lol”

Matt can’t help but smirk as he clicks to see an image of his bro’s cock, as hard and familiar as his own. He laughs as he realizes that he somehow had forgotten his #1 fuckbuddy. He feels a lust begin to grow within him and realizes that evermore his hunger can never truly leave his mind. He texts back immediately, any memories of who he once was streaming out of his mind as pre spills in his already stained jock, “kinda hard already bro, u wanna go find a twink to tagteam” 

Not too far away Lou stares at a perfect partner for them both, a twink tearing up, having just been stood up for brunch. Lou shambles his way, struggling to walk straight as he makes his way over to an easy fuck, texting, “b over in five dude, hope your ready to have another bro lol”

Not too far away Lou stares at a perfect partner for them both, tearing up having just been stood up for brunch. Lou shambles his way, struggling to walk straight as he makes his way over to an easy fuc, texting, “b over in five dude, hope youre ready to have another bro lol”

Matt struggles to keep himself together as the thought sets his passion aflame. This finale message sends one last rush of turmoil in his mind. What exactly does Lou mean by that, another bro? He sits there unaware he’s subconsciously crossing one last threshold. Before any further moment can be spent however he burps and tastes cum, which sends him spiraling, awash with lust and pleasure, laughing at the idea of Lou bringing someone home for the two of them. He alights to get the apartment ready for company before guffawing and remembering he couldn’t care less for appearances, he just sits and waits on the couch. Staring at the door eager to bring another overthinking man into his world reigned only by an insatiable lust.

[noirsdoll]

inspired by this anon ask!!

-> pretty please? part two

all aboard! | the dinner party | room for three | nothing even matters

pairing: curly x wife!reader

words: 3.0k

tags: dubcon, referenced rape, baby trapping, semi-public sexual stuff, mentions of jimmy’s abuse towards anya, anya gets an abortion, reader is the worst person alive, there’s an actual smut scene this time, no crash au

notes: wasn’t planning on writing a second part but the brainrot got sooo bad uh reader gets even worse imo… writing the anya part caused me physical pain IM SORRY also i need to walk all over curly he’s so…

read it on ao3

Mrs. Grant Curly.

It sounds just as good as it feels. When Pony Express became fully automated, you lost your job just like everybody else. You were lucky that, when the dust settled, you’d made your mark on Curly.

Walking down the cargo ramp, displaying your fresh baby bump, courtesy of him, you've never felt more secure. Sure, Curly proposed to you more out of necessity than want and you got married at the courthouse, but you don’t care. That white picket fence dream you’d been chasing is now a reality.

Of course, you’re the one that cooks and cleans around the house— you didn’t expect anything less, you were sure that Curly had a housewife fantasy rolling around somewhere in that empty head of his. It’s nice, it keeps your hands busy and your mind free, because while he might be the one ordering you around, you’ve never felt more in control in your entire life.

You’re having the former crew over for dinner at your shared house, tonight. Fortunately, Jimmy got locked up for what he did to Anya quickly after the Tulpar’s touchdown, so you won't be seeing him for half a year, at least. The attendees are you, Anya, Daisuke, Swansea, and your lovely husband, Curly.

You cling to Curly’s arm, beckoning everyone in. Your guests crowd around you, admiring the ring Curly wrapped around your finger. A glittering diamond, so heavy it weighs down your hand. Curly smiles awkwardly.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous!” Anya says, with a clear hint of jealousy. You got a ring out of that trip and she gets an abortion.

“Damn, the Captain must be loaded!” Daisuke exclaims, tugging your hand closer for a better inspection.

Swansea nods. “It’s a good investment. You seem like a hard worker.”

“The hardest,” you say with a grin and a coy glance at Curly. “Dinner’s on the table. Pot roast.”

Everyone tucks in, one of the few non-synthetic meals they’ve had since their return to Earth, except for Daisuke, of course. You wonder how much his mom earns and how much it differs from Curly. For all you know, he could be a basement dweller for the rest of his life with no worries.

Curly sits beside you, eating quietly. With your free hand, you trail it up his thigh. You’ve touched him so many times before, but he still freezes up a little. Fortunately, you’ve done it enough that he knows better than to say anything, continuing to eat, albeit stiffer.

Your hand passes over his cock, right over the fabric of his nice suit. He looks so good in dinner formal— that tailored suit hugs his waist and somehow contains his tits. You’re glad you married him.

You hold a conversation with Swansea– something about gas prices and advice about your future kid— all with your hand gently running along the line of Curly’s dick. You honestly don’t care if they see, your cooking is good enough of a distraction.

You turn to look at the side opposite Curly and see Daisuke staring. Not at you, but at your hand— the one on Curly’s cock.

The both of you lock eyes and he looks away, his tan skin flushed rouge. You watch him for a moment, intrigued, slowly pulling away.

Nothing else happens for the rest of dinner, everyone migrates to the living room afterwards. Swansea’s showing Curly something in the garage and Anya’s in the washroom, so that just leaves you and Daisuke.

You lean back on the couch beside Daisuke. “So… what’re you doing now that the Tulpar’s done for?”

He rubs the back of his neck, wearing a suit— an expensive, designer one. “I dunno, Swansea’s having me join his freelancing business— and I think he’s great and all but like, I’m nowhere on his level.”

“I think you’re pretty capable, Daisuke,” you smile. “If not, I’m sure my husband can network you somewhere.”

Daisuke glances down at your pregnant stomach and back up. “So, you and the captain, you’re really like, married and all that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No, nothing, it’s just— it seems kinda out of nowhere.” He shrugs, looking away. “You really spooked us when you announced it on the ship.”

“We’d been together for a while, it’s only natural that something would happen,” you laugh. You expected it to— you’d have poked holes in his condoms if he had them.

Daisuke swallows. “How long have you been together?”

You think for a moment. “Since maybe about… halfway through the trip? We just couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, really.”

“Oh, wow, that long?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, contemplating.

“Yeah… is something wrong?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I just feel stupid for not noticing.

“You’re not stupid, Daisuke. I said you were capable, remember?” You grin. “He just likes to keep things private, you know?”

“Private? But you two were…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Is he talking about what he saw at the dinner table?

Daisuke glances past you and you hear footsteps, it must be Curly and Swansea returning from the garage.

You decide to play a game.

“... so then I figured I’d return to my roots. Go back to being a car mechanic,” Swansea says, halfway buried in a cardboard box.

“Right…” Curly holds the box steady for him, watching Swansea root through his spare tools like a raccoon.

Swansea springs up with a new wrench in hand— one that looks exactly like all the others he’s found laying around in Curly’s garage. “The missus wants me back to work already. Can you believe her?”

“It’ll be good for your joints,” Curly says, setting the box down.

Swansea tosses the newfound wrench into the pile of all the other hammers and pliers and wires. It thunks against the dull metal. Curly pats the dust off his suit, Swansea doesn’t seem to be worried about the condition of his own.

“Nah, she just wants to nag. She’s good at nagging.” Swansea laughs, patting Curly on the back and knocking the wind out of his lungs. “Get used to that, huh? You keep telling yourself it’ll end eventually and it never does.”

Curly takes a moment to regain his breath. “Thank you, but she doesn’t nag.” You do something far worse than nag.

“Yeah? Well, it’ll be something or another. It always is with women.” He pops his back, groaning. Swansea gestures to his pile of knick-knacks with his head. “I’ll have these all back to you by the end of the month.”

Curly nods. “Thanks, Swansea.” He’s never seeing those tools again.

After hauling it all to Swansea’s rusty pickup, they head to the living room. That’s where Curly sees you and Daisuke. He hears you too, and he wishes he couldn’t.

“Oh, you’re talking about me feeling him up during dinner? Yeah, Curly’s into being humiliated. He always has me do stuff like that when we’re in public.” You shrug. “I think it’s nasty, but you know, gotta keep the husband happy.”

Curly stops dead in his tracks, unsure of what to do or say. It’s like a car crash, all he can do is watch, powerless to stop the careening vehicle.

“So… you do stuff like that all the time?” Daisuke’s voice is shaky, breathless.

“Yeah, most couples roleplay.” You look so at ease. Curly feels sick. “Have you ever tried anything like that, Daisuke?”

“What?! I, uh, no, I haven’t.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure if I talked to him, you and I could work something out—”

“Honey?” By some force of God, he’s compelled to speak, walking forward to the both of you.

You turn to him, your eyes lighting up. Curly would be flattered if he didn’t know your true intentions. Time with you has told him one thing— you’re constantly scheming. This is your newest one. But why drag Daisuke into this? Just to spite him?

Maybe you’re switching targets. That could be a good thing, but Curly can’t bring himself to feel that way– especially when it’d just be another person getting hurt in his stead.

He was never hurt. You’re a pretty girl, of course he’s wanted it, he was just confused. That’s why he never pushed you off, that’s what makes it all okay.

“Ah, there’s the man of the hour,” you smile, “we were just talking about you, nothing important.”

Curly glances from you to Daisuke, whose eyes are so wide they swallow up his whole face. “Yeah, had a feeling you were. Why don’t you go check on Anya? Swansea and I have some business stuff to talk to Daisuke about and I doubt you want to be around for that.”

“Of course,” you beam, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him. You leave with a flurry of your dress around the corner.

At least Curly can say you aren’t bad to look at.

“Fuck, fuck, where did I put it?”

Anya rifles through her tiny purse, sorting through makeup and pills and her phone, searching for the one thing she really needs right now. She feels frantic, lamenting not wearing a dress with pockets. Eventually she finds it, pulling out a wrinkled period liner that was shoved to the bottom of her bag.

Getting her period is a reminder of Jimmy, a reminder of the fact that she’s not pregnant anymore, that she’s safe from him now. Anya never knew her period could be so comforting.

Just as she grabs a hold of the pad, she hears a knock on the bathroom door. “Who is it?” Anya shoves the pad back into her void of a bag, trying to disguise the crinkles with her voice.

“Can I come in?” It’s you. One of the few friends she has.

“Yes, of course.”

You enter, baby bump first, and Anya has to look away, wringing her hands. She doesn’t mean for the gesture to appear so rude, but she can’t help it.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, moving your head till it meets her gaze.

Anya nods on instinct. “Yes, I’m fine. Just… parties make me exhausted sometimes.”

“I get it, totally.” You sit on the edge of the tub, with Anya leaning against the counter. Everything in this bathroom is so blindingly white— it reminds Anya of the room where she got her abortion— operation.

“Um, congratulations on you and Curly’s marriage, if I didn’t say it already.”

You smile, “Aww, thank you, Anya. Truly, I’ve never been happier.”

“That’s good,” she purses her lips, debating if she should ask the question. “On the Tulpar, you told me that Curly made you do things. Is everything okay with you and him?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Sometimes people make mistakes, confuse a situation for something it’s not, you know?”

“Ah, really?”

“Oh, all the time.” You say it like it’s obvious. Something winds in Anya’s stomach. “I figured, it was just all in my head, really. You just wanna feel special sometimes. I talked to Grant and apologized for saying a thing like that and now it’s all better.” You gently pet a hand over your stomach. “Plus I get this little guy as a reward for all my hard work.”

Anya swallows. “Right, yeah.” It feels like she’s being crushed from above. She can’t breathe, blurting out each word. “Do you have a pad, by any chance? I only have one and I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

Slowly, you shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t get those anymore. I’m pregnant, remember?” You chuckle. “Will you be okay without an extra?”

She nods. “Yes, I might have to leave early, though.”

“Alright, well, come get me when you want to leave so I can show you out.” You pat her shoulder, smile a warm smile, and leave the way you came.

Anya collapses in a heap once the door closes.

Like all good things, the party eventually comes to an end. You stand at the door with Curly’s hand on your waist, the perfect picture of a couple as you see your guests off.

Once the door shuts and the porch lights click off, Curly reaches for his tie’s knot, loosening it with a sigh. “Did you have fun?”

“So much fun.” You lock the door, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “How was your business talk?”

Curly trails after you, undoing his suit jacket. “It’s boring. It always is.”

You reach the bedroom, standing by the foot of it as you unzip your dress and step out of it. Curly looks like he wants to say something, so you stay silent. Poor thing, it’s like speaking his mind hurts.

He’s halfway down unbuttoning his dress shirt when he strings the words together. “Am I not enough for you?”

“What makes you say that?” You know exactly what he’s talking about. You just like seeing the way he questions himself when you question him.

You unclasp your bra, your tits drooping. You hate the way you look pregnant, you have to avoid seeing your reflection like a fucking vampire. It’s a means to an end, that’s the only thing that’s reassured you.

“That whole thing with Daisuke— you can’t just say stuff like that in front of other people.” He’s gaining a bit of a backbone, it surprises you. “I want this to work.”

“Then we both need to step up, right?” You move closer. “I cleaned the whole house and cooked dinner just for you to spend most of the time hiding in the garage.”

“We were working, it wasn’t like it was on purpose—,”

“No, it was on purpose. You’re being a bad husband, Grant.” You gesture to your belly, the final nail in the coffin. “You can’t act like this when I’m pregnant with your baby, okay? You have to be a father to your child.”

You stand there, fuming and for a moment you actually feel angry. Your performance is so convincing even you believe it.

“Hey, don’t be mad, please.” It’s the best argument he’s got, especially when he tips your grumbling face up to meet his baby blues. “I fucked up today and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do better, promise.”

Fuck, he’s so perfect. He caves like clockwork, hearing him admit it’s his fault gets you soaked every time. You kiss him, soft and slow. “Could you help me take off my heels, then? My feet are killing me.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and Curly takes a knee, the same way he did in your crew quarters, promising to buy you a ring the second he landed. And he always keeps his promises.

He undoes your heels and you watch on with an easy grin as he peppers kisses along your ankles and the top of your feet. You expected him to do that, Curly’s so predictable. He keeps his eyes on yours, searching for your praise. He kneads your feet a little too, massaging out all the aches and pains.

His mouth trails higher and higher until it reaches its end destination— your shaven pussy. You can never get a good look with the baby bump in the way, so you make him shave it. It’s one of his favourite tasks– like a sensory toy for a toddler.

Curly’s tongue laves over your slit and he eats you out, thick eyelashes fluttering closed as he takes his time with you.

Your orgasm makes up for the fake anger you lobbied at him— it swallows you up and spits you back on the bed with a limp spine. You deserve it, honestly, all this acting really takes a toll on you.

Your favourite part is when he gets on the bed with you, big burly arms caging you in. It feels like the entire world’s been closed out and it’s just you and him. Nothing but his warm body pressed so tightly to yours. Two puzzle pieces that fit.

Curly fumbles a little in the dark, but eventually his fat cock is splitting you open, that same perfect cock that knocked you up all those months ago. It feels just as good as it did the first time and all those subsequent times after.

His eyelids fall to half mast as he looks at you, and that’s how you know you have him. So easily ensnared, what’s the point of an argument when you can just spread your legs and he comes willingly? You’ll have to try it next time, see if your pussy does a better job of speaking for you.

The mattress creaks with every slow movement. Unhurried and hard is the rhythm he always chooses, constantly searching your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. Not that you’d mind.

It would just remind you of that night in his quarters, when he’d snapped and he was no longer the Curly you’d grown obsessed with, when you were half sure he might kill you. Since then, you made sure never to push him that far again, to only play games you were certain you’d win.

And Curly filling you up after a long day is a sure bet.

He cums quicker than you’d like, but you’re too tired to berate him. He’s done enough today. Crowded up against his chest, you play with the hair there, winding the short strands around your fingers.

Too fucked out for malice, you both talk for a while. On baby names, on family, on being better. You only care about one of those. You’ve been set on the baby names ever since you scratched them onto the metal wall of your quarters back on the Tulpar— right above the heart with both yours and Curly’s names.

You just tell him you haven’t decided yet.

[vicc-inspection]

Choose the Best Pre-Shipment Inspection in China: A Guide to Quality Assurance

In the world of international trade, ensuring the quality and integrity of your imported goods is paramount. As a savvy importer, you know that maintaining your reputation and customer trust hinges on delivering high-quality products. That's where pre-shipment inspection (PSI) services come into play, especially in a country like China, where manufacturing is prolific and diverse. But with numerous options available, how do you choose the best China Pre-Shipment Inspection ? We've got you covered with this comprehensive guide.

Why Pre-Shipment Inspection Matters

Before diving into the selection process, it's crucial to understand why pre-shipment inspection is essential for your business:

1. Quality Assurance

PSI helps ensure that the products you're importing meet your specified quality standards. It's your last line of defense against receiving subpar or defective goods.

2. Cost Reduction

By catching product defects before shipment, you can avoid costly issues like product recalls, returns, and rework. PSI ultimately saves you money in the long run.

3. Supplier Accountability

Holding your suppliers accountable for product quality sends a clear message that you expect consistency and reliability.

4. Risk Mitigation

International trade involves risks, from shipping delays to compliance issues. PSI helps minimize these risks by identifying and addressing potential problems upfront.

Choosing the Right Pre-Shipment Inspection Service

Now that you understand the importance of pre-shipment inspection, let's explore the steps to choose the best service in China:

1. Expertise in Your Industry

Ensure that the inspection service you choose has experience in your specific product category. Different products have distinct quality requirements, so expertise matters.

2. Comprehensive Inspection Services

Look for a service that offers a wide range of inspection services beyond just visual checks. This might include product testing, compliance checks, and evaluation of packaging, labeling, and documentation.

3. Local Presence

Opt for an inspection company with a local presence in China. Local inspectors have a better understanding of the local market, suppliers, and regulations, which can be a significant advantage.

4. Transparent Pricing

Choose an inspection service with transparent and competitive pricing structures. Avoid hidden fees and make sure you understand what's included in the cost.

5. Inspection Reports

Ensure that the inspection service provides detailed, well-documented reports with clear photos. A comprehensive report will help you make informed decisions about your shipment.

The Inspection Process

Understanding the typical inspection process can also help you make an informed choice:

Booking: Schedule an inspection with your chosen service well in advance of your shipment date.

On-Site Inspection: Trained inspectors will visit the supplier's facility to conduct the inspection.

Quality Checks: Inspectors will verify product quality, specifications, and quantity.

Compliance Assessment: They will also confirm adherence to regulatory standards and any specific requirements you have.

Packaging Review: Packaging will be evaluated for safe shipping to avoid damage during transit.

Detailed Report: Following the inspection, you will receive a comprehensive report with findings, photos, and recommendations.

The Benefits of Pre-Shipment Inspection

Investing in pre-shipment inspection comes with numerous benefits:

Quality Improvement: Catching defects early ensures you receive high-quality products consistently.

Cost Reduction: Avoid costly product recalls or returns, saving both time and money.

Risk Reduction: Minimize import risks and compliance issues, protecting your business and reputation.

Supplier Accountability: Encourage suppliers to meet your quality and compliance standards, fostering long-term relationships.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

As you embark on your journey to select the best pre-shipment inspection service, keep these common mistakes in mind:

Skipping Inspection: Some importers skip inspection to save costs, which can lead to significant issues down the line.

Choosing Unqualified Inspectors: Ensure your chosen inspectors have the necessary expertise in your product category.

Neglecting Local Knowledge: Local inspectors understand the nuances of Chinese manufacturing, making them valuable assets.

Incomplete Reports: Demand comprehensive inspection reports to make informed decisions about your shipment.

In conclusion, choosing the best China pre-shipment inspection is a vital step in ensuring the quality and reliability of your imported goods. By considering factors like expertise, comprehensive services, local presence, pricing, and inspection reports, you can make an informed decision that safeguards your business and reputation.

[weprovinginspection]

Production Inspection

Anyone interests to know more about product inspection related trade knowledge?

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter five: so is it your place or mine?

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Your abusive ex-boyfriend's car being blown up in front of your face does wonders for your inhibitions.

cw: explicit, smut, monsterfucking!!, forked tongue action, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, like one singular pussy spank, things get cut a little short :((, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The diner closes early. Turns out that a car exploding outside, followed by every kind of law enforcement and crisis management team imaginable swarming the premises is kind of bad for business– who knew?

Andy, apparently, somehow survived. You watch from the dining room of the building as his battered and torched body is loaded into the back of an ambulance. You hear something about third degree burns, how it’s going to be a miracle if he pulls through– you can only imagine what it would have been like to be standing so close to that explosion of heat. Hellfire.

You spend the few remaining hours of your shift giving statements, which only mildly cover the truth. “Andy was my ex. He was abusive. For about a year and a half. He liked to come here for coffee. I don’t know anyone who would have tampered with his car. No, I don’t know anything about cars. I have been working all day. He tried to cut my arm. No, he didn’t succeed, I pushed him away. Eddie is the name of my high school sweetheart. We were a little bit crazy about each other, we decided to get each other’s names branded onto our skin. He got his on his chest. No, I don’t think that’s strange for an eighteen year old to do, we were fucking idiots. I don’t know where he is now. Eddie–” 

Munson.

“–Munson. Sure, I can make some coffee.”

Before you leave, you hear a few whispers about a free pie special on Friday, but you just hang up your apron and bounce before anyone can ask your opinion.

You come home to find a dog on your doorstep.

You see it there before you turn off the car and step out to get a closer look. It raises its head when it sees you, almost as if it’s been waiting here for you. Expecting you. 

It’s a big dog– not as delicate as Lacey, as it feels like all things point back towards your grief these days– but it’s beautiful, regardless. It looks like a Rottweiler, with the most beautiful brown and black colors you’ve ever seen. 

“What are you doing here, baby?” You ask quietly when the dog bounds toward you, jumping up excitedly to scratch at your legs. It barks happily, looking so pleased that you’re home, like it’s known you for ages. 

Still reeling from the events of the afternoon, your limbs are jerky and stiff with nerves. You crouch down to inspect its neck, reaching for its leather collar, ducking around its attempts to lick your face. It’s fruitless; the dog is gonna kiss you no matter what, even if it has to climb over your shaky legs to do it. 

It’s comforting, even though you’re a little too frazzled to admit it.

Your heart plummets into your gut when your fingers latch onto the copper dog tag that hangs from the strap around its neck. The same triangular copper piece that you’d buried as an offering in the woods, a week ago.

“What the fuck,” you whisper. “No, that can’t be– what the fuck–”

But it can be. You know it, like you know that Eddie had been talking to you today, even though none of it makes sense. Things stopped making sense when he showed up in that clearing and lit a cigarette with his thumb.

You turn the dog tag over, but there’s no contact information. You get the feeling that this dog will never get lost, because it will always instinctively know how to find its way back to you. 

Lacey’s name, your beautiful Dachshund that was taken from you too soon, has been completely erased and the beveled copper smoothed over. Now, the same chicken scratch that adorns your wrist has also been inscribed here. 

Dante. 

You give the Rottweiler a bemused side eye. “Dante, huh? Whoever named you sounds like a fucking nerd.”

“I heard that.”

You raise your head to find Eddie standing in your doorway, looking as beautiful as ever. He glows around the edges, a suggestion of an aura about him that tells you his body isn’t merely made of flesh and blood, but still, he’s a little more… human. His eyes aren’t glowing like before– rather, they’re as dark as your apartment behind him, and they twinkle in the sunlight. He’s shed his usual leather jacket, his arms bare for you to see his tattoos. Bats and spiders and a skeleton puppeteer, inked across his skin. 

You hadn’t seen them before. They hadn’t been featured in that fucking dream , or you would have absolutely done something about it. Something involving a lot more tongue and less thought. He smiles wide and deadly and gorgeous, and you feel as though he’s completely aware of your line of thought.

“Dante, you were supposed to bring her inside,” Eddie chastises the dog as he trots through your door, “not stand out there giving her kisses. That’s my job. Chrissake.”

You step into the apartment after the dog, letting the door creak shut. The drive home had been brutal, to say the least. Your memories of the afternoon’s events are so whole and so fresh, as if they’re still alive within you. Your mind returns to the images over and over again; the vision of the car going up in flames, the sharp press of Andy’s blade to your skin. 

Everything within you aches. Magic courses through your veins– you feel it, simmering just below the surface like it’s going to bubble out of your skin. You might burst into flames. You might explode.

“If it helps, I can’t say I saw that coming,” Eddie begins, like he’s still hearing your thoughts. You have a good mind to ask him if he’s constantly hearing them, or if he’s just listening right now.He takes your keys gently from your hand and sets them on the counter, looking you over hesitantly. “At least, not until he drove into the parking lot.”

“So, that was you telling me what to do?” You ask, staring at his shoes. You swallow against an uncomfortably dry feeling in your mouth. “You were talking to me?”

“You called.” He chews on his lip, leaning back against the counter to face you. 

You feel yourself nod. So, he felt everything. He heard everything you were thinking, all the fear and rage and anxiety. You didn’t just make up his voice to calm your own mind.

“I can understand why. Fucking guy– I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you, to deal with that for so long. Nothing– no one should make you feel like that. Not while I’m around.”

You lift your eyes. Eddie’s words seem to pound a nail directly into your beating heart; you feel yourself on the cusp of doing something stupid, something you might regret later. You watch his lips as they move, as you tell yourself, No. Don’t do it.

“You did so well, though,” Eddie reassures you after a moment. “You were fucking amazing, baby, I was so proud. Burned the fuck out of him. Look at you, little witch.”

“Was that–” You take a stuttering breath, searching for the words you want to say. “Did I do that? Did I… did I try to kill him? Did I blow up the car?”

“No, I did.” 

You feel like the air has been sucked from your lungs. You give a few short breaths, as though you’re trying to hide from someone and don’t want the sound of your breathing to give you away.

“I did,” Eddie repeats. “I know you told me not to kill anyone unless you asked, and I’ll be completely fucking honest, I figure it would be better to just finish him off. Maybe– maybe I’ll have some fun torturing him for a lifetime, without killing him. There are a lot of ways to make someone suffer. But sweetheart...” He tuts and shakes his head slowly, “He defaced my mark. He hurt you. There was no way I was gonna let him just walk away after that. Not after hurting my girl.”

Tears stick in your throat, but they aren’t for Andy. You tried to curse him once, and you’d certainly try to do it again. Fuck him.

“Eddie.” You look up into his face, and it holds a level of severity and anger that should scare you, but it doesn’t. Tears pool on your waterline and threaten to spill over, urged by a wave of infatuation and gratitude toward him that you can’t seem to put a cap on. Your logical brain is trying to beat your own animal impulses back with a stick, while the rabid beast in your chest bites it and tries to yank it away. It’s frustrating how easily this demon can make you lose your morals.

“Trust me, he’s not going to get off easy,” Eddie continues, without even noticing the mushy look you’re giving him. “Even after he finally kicks it. Even if I make the rest of his fucking life miserable. Hell is eternal, and I have quite a few dogs who haven’t been fed in a while. They’ll be happy to rip apart Andy’s soul for lunch. It’s only fitting, after what he did to yours–”

“Eddie.”  

You take a running start at him. His eyes go wide and then crinkle at the edges with laughter when you slam directly into his chest, clawing at his shirt to drag him down to your height. 

With one quick move you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. 

Eddie grunts, his hands fumbling to catch you before you manage to topple the both of you. He reciprocates with frenzy, all clashing teeth and grabbing hands. His mouth is hot as sin and his tongue tastes like smoke and honey, although you weren’t expecting anything else. Maybe you were expecting it to burn you alive, but it wouldn’t matter to you either way.

He pulls back for breath, and chuckles. “Don’t you wanna wine and dine me first–?”

“Hush.”

Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe you’re just running on adrenaline and you’re not thinking clearly– the wires in your brain are misfiring, placing desire where it shouldn’t be in order to make up for the grief you should be feeling instead. 

Or… should you? Rather, you feel relieved. And you’d be remiss if you didn’t show Eddie just how much you appreciate his effort.

You manage to land two kisses onto his jaw before he dips his head and catches your lips with his. Something tells you that you’re going to be addicted to him by the end of this. Eddie’s hands find your face and hold you still so that he can kiss you deeply, letting his tongue glide softly over yours in a way that sends chills through your body.

“Demanding little minx, aren’t you?” His thumb traces the line of your throat, lingering there when you curl your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You told me to tell you what I want. This is me telling you.” Wavy hair tangles in your grip, and you yank him closer by it. 

You have to quickly reconsider the consequences of your actions, though, when Eddie picks you up and effectively throws you across the counter, toppling a bunch of random clutter onto the floor. 

Eddie’s hand comes up to grab your jaw, holding your head where he wants it as he sucks hard, his teeth grazing your throat in a way that makes you dizzy. You whimper when his lips find a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, sending a shock wave through your body, throwing your legs around his hips to pull him in toward you. Following his lead, letting him bite you until you’re bruised, until the capillaries under your skin burst and spread in the shape of his lips.

“I think you’re an angel,” he whispers, as his hands slip up your skirt and his fingers brush the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He sounds breathless as he kisses your jaw, just below your ear. “My angel.”

There’s relief in Eddie’s kiss that soothes the rabid thing in your chest trying to figure out what direction to go in. His lips glide over yours soft and then hard, the ebb and flow of waves on the shore. 

This is what you wanted. Contact. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your body. You’ve been wanting to get your grubby hands on him ever since that fucking dream, and now that you do, you’re losing your mind. 

His fingers press into the skin of your hips, tracing the waistline of your panties. A damp spot grows on the crotch of them, and on any normal day you would be embarrassed. Now you simply grind against the touch, beyond the point of refusing it. 

You bite his bottom lip and suck on it, causing him to moan against you. In your haste, you miss the shudder that rolls down his spine, the way his eyes roll back in his skull a bit.

“I– mmmkay,” Eddie groans deep within his chest when you palm him over his jeans, feeling out his erection against the denim. Big is all the confirmation your clouded mind gets before Eddie's hands circle your wrists and pin them over your head. His eyebrows shoot up sternly as he talks down his nose at you. “Behave.”

“You don’t want me to behave,” you point out, your breath hitching in your chest when he dips down to press a kiss just beside your mouth. You gasp, “You want me to fuck you. That’s what this is, right? That’s… that’s what I want–”

“Oh, sweetheart.” A fire ignites deep within his eyes. It’s beautiful– so close, you can see the embers burning there, flickering with the heat of his gaze. “Took you long enough.”

“Bullshit. Took me– mm…” A soft noise of gratitude escapes you when his hand dips to stroke over the crotch of your panties, “three days.” 

You can’t help the way you cling to him, all but grinding down onto his hand for relief. He hisses through his teeth when his fingers press into the soaked cloth over your core. 

“Yeah, n’ it was too fuckin’ long. You poor thing, having to wait for me like this. M’so sorry…”

Eddie drops to his knees, kisses your knee once before dragging your panties down your thighs. Your hands are covetous, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and gripping onto his shoulder at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You shiver as he parts your legs, his face so close to your sex that he can smell you, sweet and earthy in the air.

He takes a long, deep inhale that makes your face burn, and he grins up at you. “Mmm, actually… no, I’m not.” 

“Fuck–” you hiccup when he hooks your leg over his shoulder. His breath hits you before his tongue parts the swollen lips of your pussy, and the touch is blindingly sweet. “You’re– hhuh– evil.”

He grunts, and takes to you with gentle licks that make your toes curl. Soft flicks and tender strokes that gradually become firmer, deeper. Warmth seeps into your limbs, spreads through your body like the sweetest poison on earth. 

Your breath catches in your throat when the feeling changes– his tongue seems too fucking long, reaching way too much of you all at once. And then there’s a split, a feeling of two appendages separating and tracing around the bead of your clit, moving individually. 

“Hoooly shit– wait wwwait, hang on– fuck!”  

Your breath is coming in hot, short pants that don’t quite reach your lungs as you lurch against him. You peer down to meet his eyes and they’re fucking smoldering, burnt orange and siena glowing as Eddie’s forked tongue flicks softly around your clit, easing up while you collect yourself.

You squirm against him, rolling your hips urgently toward his mouth even while you try to wrap your head around it. “I didn’t– hnnng– I didn’t know you had– had–” 

“Demon,” Eddie hums. He raises his head to give you a sharp, fanged smile. 

The sight makes you freeze, your eyes going wide. “That’s really, really…”

You trail off as his impossibly long, split tongue glides through your folds and teases at your hole. He fucks you slowly with it, eyeing you for your reaction. 

You moan, “Mmm, that’s… so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes fistfuls of your ass, lifting your hips and kneading soft flesh beneath his fingers. His touch is indulgent and selfish, nails digging into your skin and tongue seeking you out deeply enough that it makes your cheeks burn.

A forked tongue. That’s a new one on you, even if it isn’t quite so surprising. You’d never considered that it might be an exciting prospect until you could feel it. 

Your hands slip back through his hair, a soft moan escaping you. So many points of contact at once wreak havoc on your nerves. You can’t think straight, and it’s becoming something of a problem because you feel way too close to your orgasm already. 

But if you fall apart, what’s the harm? He’ll be here to put you back together. Even if it means he’ll just tear you apart again, he can spend eternity doing it. You think you’d let him.

You’ve never been one for the conventional. You like a little kink, a little sharpness and grittiness to go with your pleasure. And no one has gone down on you quite like this– all in, not submissive but simply servicing, like he’s reaching for a piece of your soul with it. 

So, you’re not surprised when the feeling of his fangs scraping your pussy is what sends you hurtling into your orgasm. It's an instant relief to the roaring heat in your body, but it only sort of quells the flame.

He laps at you slowly until he pulls off, leaving you spent, thrown across your kitchen counter. Eddie chuckles while you continue to twitch through the aftershocks. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? That’s fucked up, baby.”

He sounds so fucking cheeky. You bonk him on the head with your palm while he snickers. “Don’t act so goddamn proud.”

He smacks your pussy once, a sharp crack that makes you yelp. His fingers come back wet, and he licks them while your cunt throbs and stings. Still desperate for him.

Eddie pulls back to stand, and he watches you for a second, sucking on his teeth a bit. He looks contemplative, a little bit disarming once the fangs and forked tongue disappear. 

He bends over you to kiss your forehead, and gives you an apologetic look. “I have to go.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Your cunt aches between your legs, pressing together to stave off the feeling. They just hit Eddie’s hips. “Fuck, Eddie, I don’t think I can– don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he murmurs soothingly. His eyes are dark now as they peer into yours, round and seemingly innocent. “But I gotta. ‘Devil’s work is never finished,’ and all.”

You scrunch up your expression, attempting to glare but only coming off cutely perturbed, from his perspective. “I hate you.”

“Aww.” He sticks his tongue out at you– it’s a normal, human tongue. You want to bite it. “You’re so convincing at it. I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”

“My… dog?” You blink as he pecks your lips and steps away from you, walking toward your bedroom door.

“Dante,” Eddie tells you, looking around the room. The dog in question is nowhere to be found. “Ah… technically he’s my best one. When he behaves. DANTE?”  

There’s a bark from the direction of the bathroom, and a horrifying splash. Eddie motions at it, shrugging emphatically, as if to say what’re you gonna do? “He’s yours now. He’s got orders to take good care of you.”

You stare incredulously after Eddie as he goes to disappear through your bedroom door. Before he does, he spins back around with a finger extended. 

“He likes wet food, by the way.”

[the-sleepy-archivist]

Blocking Ads on Mobile Devices

Blocking ads on our phones is way harder than it should be so I figured I'd make some recommendations. These are not the only options out there, just the ones that I know and have used.

Please note that browser-level and system-level adblocking are complementary; you'll have the best experience if you use both of them together as they each block different things in different places. If you want a basic idea of how effective your combined adblocking setup is, you can visit this website in your mobile browser.

Lastly, there is some additional advice/info under the readmore if you're curious (EDIT: updated March 2025 to add more adblocking options for iOS and to add info about sideloading altered versions of social media apps that don't contain ads on Android and iOS).

Android

Browser-Level

uBlock Origin (for Firefox)

System-Level (works in all apps, not just browsers)

AdGuard

Blokada 5 (completely free version) OR Blokada 6 (has some newer features but they require a subscription)

iPhone/iPad

Browser-Level

AdGuard (Safari extension; free for basic browser-level blocking, requires a subscription or one time purchase of “lifetime” license for custom filters)

1Blocker (Safari extension from an indie developer; can enable one built-in or custom filter list for free, requires a subscription or one time purchase of “lifetime” license for enabling multiple filter lists and updating filter lists to the latest version automatically)

Wipr 2 (one time purchase from indie developer; simplest option to use, but also the least configurable. Best if you are looking for one time set and forget and don’t need any custom filters. Note that it does not have a system-level blocking option)

System-Level (works in all apps, not just browsers)

AdGuard (requires subscription or one time purchase of “lifetime” license for system-level blocking)

1Blocker (can activate without a subscription, but requires subscription or one time purchase of “lifetime” license to enable system-level blocking AND browser-level blocking simultaneously)

AdGuard DNS only (this is free and does not require the AdGuard app, BUT I would only recommend it for advanced users, as you can't easily turn it off like you can with the app. Credit to this Reddit thread for the DNS profile)

Some additional info: browser-level blocking is a browser addon or extension, like you might be used to from a desktop computer. This inspects the HTML code returned by websites and searches for patterns that identify the presence of an ad or other annoyance (popup videos, cookie agreements, etc.). System-level blocking is almost always DNS-based. Basically whenever an app asks your phone's OS to make a connection to a website that is known for serving ads, the system-level blocker replies "sorry, I don't know her 🤷‍♂️💅" and the ad doesn't get downloaded. This works in most places, not just a browser, but be warned that it might make your battery drain a little faster depending on the app/setup.

Each of those types of blocking has strengths and weaknesses. System-level DNS blocking blocks ads in all apps, but companies that own advertising networks AND the websites those ads are served on can combine their services into the same domain to render DNS blocking useless; you can’t block ads served by Facebook/Meta domains without also blocking all of Facebook and Instagram as well because they made sure their ads are served from the same domain as all the user posts you actually want to see. Similarly, browser-level blocking can recognize ads by appearance and content, regardless of what domain they’re served from, so it can block them on Instagram and Facebook. However, it needs to be able to inspect the content being loaded in order to look for ads, and there’s no way to do that in non-browser apps. That’s why using both together will get you the best results.

These limitations do mean that you can’t block ads in the Facebook or Instagram apps, unfortunately, only in the website versions of them visited in your browser. It also means ads served by meta’s/facebook’s ad network in other apps can’t be blocked either (unless you're one of the rare beasts who doesn't use facebook or instagram or threads, in which case feel free to blacklist all Meta/FB domains and watch your ads disappear 😍; I'm jealous and in awe of you lol).

One note: some apps may behave unpredictably when they can't download ads. For example, the Tumblr app has big black spaces where the ads are, and sometimes those spaces collapse as you scroll past them and it messes up scrolling for a few seconds (UPDATE: looks like the scrolling issue may have actually been a Tumblr bug that they have now fixed, at least on iOS). Still way less annoying than getting ads for Draco Malfoy seduction roleplay AI chatbots imo though. And honestly *most* apps handle this fairly gracefully, like a mobile game I play just throws error messages like "ad is not ready" and then continues like normal.

One final note: on Android, you may actually be able to find hacked versions of Meta’s apps that have the ad frameworks removed. In some cases they are a little janky (unsurprisingly, apps don’t always take kindly to having some of their innards ripped out by a third-party), and they are often out of date. BUT in return you get an Instagram app with no ads whatsoever, and some of them even add additional features like buttons for saving IG videos and photos to your phone. However, use these apps at your own risk, as there is functionally no way to validate the code that the third-parties have added or removed from the app. Example altered IG app (I have not vetted this altered app, it's just a popular option): link.

It is technically possible to install altered apps on iOS as well, but Apple makes it much, much harder to do (unless you are jailbroken, which is a whole different ballgame). I'm not going to cover sideloading or jailbreaking here because even I as a very techy person eventually grew tired of messing with it or having to pay for it. If you're interested you can read more about the different ways to do sideloading on iOS here.

[ghostbustting]

hihi, i love your writings! can i get a 80 slash fic where it's around halloween time and the reader was force to attend a party with her friends. Slash notices reader and how hot her costume is. ( a bit modest version of the playboy bunny outfit ) Slash is cocky but the reader doesn't know who the hell he is but after a few drinks...they are upstairs doing the devils tango. 😈

Idk why this took me so long yet so effortless, but october seems to be the perfect month to post it 🙌

♯ ; “𝑩𝑬𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑵𝑵𝒀„ ༘⋆

Saul "Slash” Hudson x Fem!Reader.

Contains SMUT ; p in v, squirting, dirty talk (?),

oral (f receiving).

The smell of booze and sweats fill my senses, I guess you can already imagine how terrible it is. I can't even remember when did I ever agree to step a single toe into this god awfully packed Halloween party? At this point, I'd rather go trick or treat instead around the neighborhood and receive some sweets by the end of the night.

The whole night I made it my quest to try and stick close to my friends, following them, a similar sight to how dogs would follow their owners around. It was never my desire to attend this party anyways, wasn't quite of a party person at the first place, let alone a Halloween party where I have to dress up in costumes and shit. Yet my friends were quite hard to resist, forcing me to come with them to this party.

So here I am, standing at the corner of this unknown loaded house in my terrible attempt of a Playboy Bunny costume, buying my costume from the nearest store available just a day before the party, despite the cheap fabric making it look like I only put on a black swimsuit and a bunny ears bandana. It was quite revealing, I could feel eyes on me as I walk around, but who the fuck cares?

My friends were long gone from my sight, last thing I seen from them was when they were dirty dancing around some dudes. Unfortunately, I was no fan of that activity, leaving me to just stand in the corner of the party like an absolute outcast. I didn't mind. I had my cup of drink and that was enough to keep me occupied till my friends are ready to take me back home.

News flash, they never did take me home.

In fact, I have completely lose sights of every single one of them. Those little fuckers dragged me here and literally left me to rot between all of these party animals when I could've had a movie night back in my place. What a waste of a Halloween night. Isn't it?

I crush up the empty red plastic cup in my grasp and swiftly threw it away into the trash can, which everyone seems to be oblivious of, judging from all the empty plastic cups laying around on the floor, ready to cause someone to trip and fall.

However, the still fueled up plastic cups set on the table have managed to catch my attention yet again as I find myself making my way back to that table and seeking another cup of drink, which makes this my... third drink..?

My mind shrugs off the forgotten count of drinks as I spot one particular cup with more liquid filled inside besides the other cups. A grin on my lips, my arm stretches and my hand reached out for the cup.

Only to be met by another hand.

A big calloused hand that belonged to a man I couldn't place who or where I would recognize him from.

My eyes trailed from his hand that was lightly touching my own, up to his face, which was mostly covered by those voluminous curls of his hair, a hat sitting perfectly still on top of those curls. Behind those curls, were eyes that peeks through his own strands of hair with a gaze that met mine almost instantly. Almost as if he was inspecting me just like the way I seem like I was inspecting him.

"This cup's taken, sweetheart." He spoke to me, his voice causing a rather odd and unfamiliar tingling feeling in my stomach.

Only then did I realize how warm the feeling of his skin was against my cold one, his voice able to mute out the loud rock music that has been blaring through the speakers all evening as he say, “Or should I say.. Bunny.” This time, he ends his words with a chuckle, eyes trailing up and down my costume.

I raise my eyebrow at him and reluctantly let go of the cup from my hand, “Whatever.” I muttered before taking a different cup displayed on the table, yet somehow still feeling the gaze of those eyes that belonged to him on the side of my head, gaze so strong that he was practically burning a hole right through me. Just as I turn to him again with a sip of the drink, it was proven that he was indeed still gazing over me.

A sigh left my lips from the liquid that cleared my throat, my hip carefully leaning against the table while I listen as words seem to leave him yet again, “No company, Miss Bunny?” He ask, his hand reaching up to deliver the cup to his lip, I watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallow the liquid.

”My friends are here, but they… well, they found other companies.” I shrugged.

I hear him click his tongue and shake his head, “And let you isolate yourself over there in the corner? Sounds like a bunch of fakers to me.” He scoffed, a small smirk playing devilishly on those lips he owned on his face.

”No, no..” I shake my head with a small chuckle, “I didn’t want to attend this party at first anyways, so—”

”Well, why the fucking hell not?!” He threw his arms up, the liquid spilling from his red cup just a little, “With a costume as sexy as this, I surely thought you’d be much more of a party animal.” WIth each words he spoke, I can feel more and more the way his gaze seems to caress the skin of my body up and down. It was rather odd… it made me feel a certain feeling in my heart that made it beat faster, my thighs clenching just a little. Or was it just the effect of the drink? I couldn’t even figure it out before he spoke yet again.

A step was taken from his shoe, his body moving closer to my own, “How ‘bout I show you the real fun of the party? Some talking, dancing, more drinking maybe?” The mysterious man suggested, that same smirk on his face, “I’ll keep it appropriate. I promise, Miss Bunny.” He spoke almost in a teasing way that I was quite confident this night wouldn’t end up in such an appropriate ending anyways.

”Fine then, rockstar looking guy.”

The moment I let my decission slip out, the moment names were shared, and the moment my third drink became my fifth, time seems to fly in a way that is quicker than ever. Each joy of a party that the guy— Slash showed me became a comfort I found building up in me around him. My still somewhat sober part of a brain tried desperately to comprehend whether this feeling is caused by the alcohol in my system or just purely by the fact this man is so mesmerizing. Perhaps even both of those.

The more information I learn about him, the more I feel a magnetic sort of pull towards him, I just hope my pupils aren’t heart-shaped at this very moment. As time passes by, it feels as if I’ve known him for decades and decades already, in knowledge of small details of his very own life. HIs famous band, Guns ‘N Roses, his love for snakes, his guitar skills.. Can he be any more interesting?

Touches were shared here and there, especially when we joined the people dancing around to the music. His large warm palm on my waist was a touch that have been spiritually tattoed onto my skin, a touch to think back every now and then about the strange and mysterious— yet charming stranger I met at the Halloween party.

I mean, honestly, I didn’t know how it all ended up this way.

However, my half sober guess was a 100% correct guess as the first moment we were just dancing and drinking innocently, the second moment we were in some random bedroom, the third moment.. I'm on top of his body, stradling his naked lap as I bounce up and down his large cock, moans pulled out of my lips like a dirty prayer. His hands were yet again placed on both of my waist as he help me bounce up and down, the tip of his cock that was already slick from my saliva moving smoothly in and out of my hole.

”Oh god, yes!”

I gasped, my head thrown back as dirty moans cannot stop pouring from my lips which were smiling widely from ecstasy. Looking down, my eyes lands on the ripped stockings I wore and the way his cock slipped in and out of my dripping cunt, not to mention the way one of his hands have moved to use his thumb on my clit, rubbing harsh circles.

The bastard was smirking back up at me, small grunts leaving his lips as he buck his hips up to me every here and there, “Shit— How are you so fucking tight?” He chuckled breathlessly through his grunts, the circles he rubbed over my clit became more urgent while his hold on my waist tightens to the point it might leave a mark.

My mind was clouded, I couldn't think of another thing other than how good his cock filled me up, fitting just perfectly inside of me as if his cock was made specially for my cunt.

Eventually, my body fell ontop of him as my body became weak, limp with his cock still burried deep inside of me. Slash didn't let that stop his fun though as he suddenly flipped our position, positioning me on my stomach on the bed while he took his position behind me, hand on my hip and the other on his member.

"Gonna fuck this pussy so hard.." He grunted as he finally pushed his head through my folds, pushing a lewd moan out of my throat, "You like that, mm? Such a good bunny, aren't you?" He laughed, his hand coming down to smack across my ass.

The sting that lingered on from his palm caused me to gasp loudly, eyes rolled to the back of my head till they were shut tight with my face pressed into the pillow, "Fuck! Please.." I cried out as he thrusted in and out of me with a pace of no mercy, no resistance, hips snapping back and forth as sounds of skins slapping fills the room.

His arms slowly trail to wrap around my stomach, as if they were snakes lurking around me and ready to feast on me. I feel him placing his weight on me, chest on my back while he press his lips onto my ear, "Gonna fuck you dumb. Now you can be a real fucking rabbit."

Those were the last things I managed to hear before I feel him thrusting in and out of me again. Hard. And fast. I could hardly utter out a letter as my words were taken away by each pump. He was fucking me like rabbits would, humping like rabbits do. It was rough. It was dirty. And I loved every single second of it.

I can feel the veiny skin of his cock dragged in and out of my walls, the tip hitting every single spot that made the pressure bunch up even more in my stomach which only increased when he tightened his arms around it. Nasty moans left my lips, so loud that it eventually turned to lewd screams, eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"S-shit!" I gasped, "More, more.." My words came out in a desperate pant of lust, my ass trying to grind back against him.

Yet another breathless laugh escaped him, "Dirty slut.." He spat, one of his hands trailing up to slip two digits of his fingers past my lips, to which I instantly sucked on like— as he worded, an asbolute dirty slut. Humming around his digit and swirling my tongue around them, I feel him twitching right inside me.

Yet somehow, he never ever changed his pace, staying determined on that rough and deadly pace that made me feel like I'm on cloud nine.

I pull my face away from his fingers as I gasped out, "Close.. I'm so close.." My hand flew to his arm as I hold it tightly, needing something to hold on before I could pass out right on his devil of a cock. "Please.. finish me.." As much as I hate hearing myself and admitting it, I sounded the whiniest I've ever been, underneath him, begging him to give me the best orgasm I ever had.

"You're fucking crazy if you think I wouldn't.." He grunted, fingers digging into the soft skin of my waist as he finally starts slowing his pace, obviously just as close as I was, at the same time he reached down to my sensitive clit, rubbing those same harsh circles he did earlier.

It didn't take long enough before I let out the loudest moan I did tonight right as the fluids of my cum came squirting out of my cunt, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" I gasped, never once experiencing an orgasm like this. Eventually, I feel his own thick cream filling me up till I'm full of him, his voice groaning right in my eyes, something I wish I could listen to every sinful night I went through.

As soon as we finished, Slash pulled out of me and pulled my hips up so my ass was in the air. Being in my fucked up stance, I didn't know what was going to happen till I feel his warm tongue lapping our mixed cum that was oozing out of my folds, eating it out like he was starving man.

My throat was way too tired to even be loud anymore, only letting out a quiet and strangled moan as he finished, hopping onto the spot on the bed right next to me, a wide devilish smirk already on his glistening lips that was soon attatched to mine, my tongue tasting both of us with a grin building in my own face.

I feel him reach for my bunny ears and took it off me. Only when we pull apart that I noticed he have put the bunny ears on himself and place his own hat on my head.

"You look stupid."

He laughed at my statement while one of his thumbs ran over my ruined and smudged make up. "You still look sexy, bunny."

Well damn it, I guess I love Halloween.