#Couch cleaning Silver Spring

[cleaningsilverspring]

Why Diy Doesn't Always Cut It: The Importance Of Professional Stain Removal Services In Silver Spring

The art of stain removal can be a tricky one; for those who don't know what they are doing, it can often feel like an insurmountable task.

Much like the saying 'if it's not broken, don't fix it,' DIY stain removal isn't always the right solution - and Silver Spring residents should be aware that professional services are essential in removing some stains.

Like a butterfly breaking free of its chrysalis, professional stain removal services offer solutions to problems where DIY methods have failed.

It is time to explore why these services are so important and how they can benefit homeowners in Silver Spring.

The Limitations of DIY Stain Removal: Understanding Why Some Stains Need Professional Treatment

When attempting to remove a stain, it is vital to consider the type of stain and its age, as DIY approaches may not effectively handle deeper or more complex stains.

This is especially true in Silver Spring, where difficult-to-remove stains can be found on many different surfaces and materials.

Even with the best intentions and diligent effort, some stains simply require the expertise of a professional.

Prolific Steamers are experienced professionals in this field and can provide reliable services for any type of stain removal Silver Spring.

They have specialized equipment that allows them to tackle even the toughest of stains while preserving the integrity of the material underneath.

Their knowledge also ensures that they use safe cleaning products that won’t damage the surface or leave behind any residues.

With their help, you can rest easy knowing your home will look like new without any risk or hassle on your part.

The Science Behind Stain Removal: Why Professional Services in Silver Spring Outperform Over-the-Counter Solutions

A comparison of at-home and professional stain removal techniques reveals that the latter often proves more effective in achieving desired results. This is largely due to the fact that professional services have access to specialized cleaning products:

Industrial-grade solvents powerful enough to break down stubborn stains and oils;

Specialized enzymes that can attack organic materials like food and blood;

Surfactants, which help lift away greases without damaging delicate fabrics.

When it comes to tackling tough stains, these products are far superior to the over-the-counter solutions available at local stores in Silver Spring.

In addition, professionals have an intimate knowledge of how different fabrics react with various cleaners, allowing them to tailor their approach for each job and ensure better outcomes than DIY efforts could achieve.

Protecting Your Investment: How Professional Stain Removal Can Extend the Life of Your Carpets and Upholstery

By utilizing specialized cleaning products and tailoring their approach to the specific fabric, professional stain removal experts are able to offer a deeper level of protection for valuable carpets and upholstery, extending their life far beyond that achievable through DIY efforts.

Professional services are designed to remove not just the surface stain but also the underlying substances causing it, preventing damage caused by leaving them untreated. This can be especially beneficial for items with complex fibers such as silk or velvet, where solutions used in over-the-counter cleaning products may cause more harm than good.

Regular professional cleaning is an essential part of protecting these items from wear and tear and preserving their condition for longer periods of time. Not only does this provide peace of mind that your investments will remain in pristine condition, but it can also save money in the long run since you won't have to replace them prematurely due to damage caused by staining.

For those living in Silver Spring, there are numerous reputable companies offering reliable services at competitive rates - making it easy to keep your carpets and upholstery looking great year after year.

Spotlight on Safety: The Health Risks of DIY Stain Removal and Why Professional Services are a Safer Option

Given the potential health hazards associated with DIY stain removal, it is essential to determine the safety benefits of utilizing professional services.

Professional stain removal companies are trained in safe cleaning practices and use products that are effective yet safe for household use. This can be beneficial for households with young children, elderly people, or those with allergies or sensitivities.

Harsh chemicals used in DIY stain removal can cause skin irritation and respiratory problems if not handled properly. Additionally, inadequate removal of allergens or pathogens can lead to an increased risk of illness.

Professional stain removal services have access to a wide range of products specifically designed to remove stains safely and effectively while minimizing any potential risks. These products are also more likely to be successful at removing difficult stains that may require special attention.

Finally, professional services often come with warranties or guarantees so consumers have peace of mind knowing their carpets and upholstery will be restored correctly the first time around.

All in all, investing in professional stain removal services is a safer option than attempting DIY solutions which carry inherent risks due to lack of knowledge and experience.

Conclusion

The importance of professional stain removal services in Silver Spring is clear. With the right combination of expertise, cleaning products and equipment, these services can effectively and safely tackle a wide range of stains. Not only do they save time and energy, but they also protect carpets and upholstery from further damage.

Imagine a clean, fresh-smelling home where all traces of dirt and discoloration have been removed—a home that looks spotless for years to come. Professional stain removal services in Silver Spring make this dream a reality.

Investing in these services ensures that carpets and upholstery remain beautiful for years to come while avoiding potentially dangerous DIY solutions.

Prolific Steamers

Williamsburg Dr, Silver Spring, MD 20901

Phone: (410) 253-9940

[trappolia]

KISS ME ONCE AGAIN ── silver x gn!reader, 1.6k

silver has always taken his time with you.

he has never been able to tell you why. lilia says that it is just the way he is, ever since he was a boy. he plays by the rules. he goes by a routine that is, as much as possible, not too affected by his strange sleeping habits.

it is why he goes through the meticulous steps of courting you, offering you flowers and gifting you with thoughtful trinkets and even writing letters for your family while your worlds remain separate. it is why it had to be you to take the first step and kiss him one night during a star-gazing date because gods damn it all, you’re sick of waiting.

( silver laughed and laughed that night as you apologised for your callous actions; because you were so cute, because he was so in love, because it all felt like a dream come true when he allowed himself to ignore tradition to cup your cheeks and pull you into another kiss. )

silver discovers very early on that even when he takes his time, it's all still overwhelming. like a dream come true, he used to tell lilia in bouts of deliriousness when he's still caught between dream and reality and his mind is too muddled with sleep to care about embarrassing himself in front of the fae who had raised him.

like a dream come true.

but what is his dream, exactly?

a cottage deep in the forest of briar valley, with ivy growing up the walls and over the red-tiled roof. soft, packed dirt with growing flowers of all kinds, spring blossoms of pink, yellow, blue, red, protected by a low wall. there are no horrors with dripping ink and dragging claws, no glowing emerald eyes or scaled wings. just grass and flowers and sky and nothing.

no. not nothing. because there's you.

"i just cleaned, so remember to take off your boots by the door!" silver hears you call out from inside the cottage. his chest quakes as he lets out a ragged breath, his bag dropping as he rids himself of the extra weight.

the floor below his dirty boots is clean slate compared to the cluttered kitchen to his left and the living area to his right. silver sees the same threadbare couch by the stone fireplace, cluttered with throw pillows and blankets and an unfinished knitting project. the couch is old. used. loved. there are some closed doors beyond the stairs, but silver doesn't have to check to know what lies behind them. his old childhood bedroom where lilia used to tuck him in. a bathroom that has been flooded one or more than a few times when he got too carried away with playtime. the small study where he used to have his lessons on reading and writing.

there's something about the sight of his childhood home that sets silver off, as if he’s caught in crosswinds, but he fumbles his way inside anyway, toeing his shoes off out of ingrained politeness. his footfalls feel heavy and light all at once against the wooden floors as he walks — almost as if by habit — to the kitchen where he had heard your voice come from.

"there you are," you beam at him, putting a kettle of water on top of the same stove that silver had watched his father cook his meals so many times. your brows furrow when you notice the strange expression on his face; the emotions whirling in his aurora irises like a hurricane and the trembling of his bottom lip.

you frown, wiping your hands on a cloth rag. "silver? what's wrong?"

silver lets out a ragged breath, his hand shaking as it comes up to cradle your own as you cup his face in your palm. what is wrong? this is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? a life with you in the woods he had grown up in, free of worries and dangers and hurt and anger. he's built a home with no fear, no yelling, no uncertainties. just like the life lilia always wanted to give him.

it's a dream come true.

"you're a dream," silver whispers when he realises, his hands coming up to cradle your face in turn. he's shaking, he knows that even with his mind whirling, but he just can't help it— he has to touch you, make sure this isn't— this isn't a nightmare—

no. no, no, no. malleus wouldn't do that. this is his dream. this is what his heart has always yearned for.

"my dream."

"well, aren't you sappy today?" you muse, lips quirking up in that soft smile that silver oh so adores to kiss. "what's the occasion?"

"i—" silver opens his mouth, but no words come out. what can he say? what can he do, knowing that this is all he's ever wanted, but this is a dream. this is a dream and you're not real but gods, does silver want you to be.

a beat passes, and your smile turns sad.

"you know, don't you?"

silver feels his heart ache. he wants to tell you no. no, please keep this veil over my eyes. pretend i don’t know this isn’t real. please. please.

you reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness that silver feels like crying. “you’ve always been so smart, silver.”

“i’m sorry,” he allows himself to say, because this is the least he owes you— this perfect imitation of you that his mind, malleus’s magic, has managed to conjure, because in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to ingrain yourself into every fibre of his being so that even under this spell, all silver can dream about is you, you, you.

silver doesn't want to wake up. he doesn't, he really doesn't. there's something in him that pulls at his heartstrings, tugging at every vein and nerve as if begging him to stay, please stay. there must be a reason why you're always falling asleep, why this had to happen. just stay. this is a dream come true, why would you want to wake up?

“you’re still there,” silver says in a voice so small, it feels like he’s a little boy again, crying and clinging onto lilia like the fever that sticks to his skin and reminds him of his mortality.

“you’re still there, and i’m here.”

his childhood home is small, but within the cottage and with your hands cradling his face, the thick walls feels unnaturally closer, like something is breathing on the back of his neck. he’s reminded of you, somewhere in night raven college, trapped within your own dream. do you think of him, he wonders? has he become your new dream, just as you have become his?

will he ever see you again?

silver can't bear the thought of you somehow waking up from your dream — a matter of when rather than if, because silver knows that you've always had a knack for getting out of impossible situations like this — and realising that he had left you alone to stay in this eternal sleep, with this dream– this illusion of what could have been.

“i have to go,” silver whispers, and his heart breaks because this might be a dream, but it’s still you. how can he tell you he’s going to leave? he can’t do that. he can’t break your heart like that, he can’t—

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry— i'm so, so sorry.”

he expects you to stop him. what do the stories say about dreams where you’re supposed to be kept unaware, blissfully oblivious to the fact that this utopia is not your reality? silver expects this dream version of you to pull some sort of trick to lure him back into your trap—

but instead you just smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, "how lucky i am to have someone like you love me."

silver hears something crack, resonating in his soul. is it the chains of malleus’s magic breaking its hold on him, or the last pieces of his heart shattering at last? he doesn’t know.

maybe it’s both.

but whatever it is, silver knows he doesn’t have much time. his hands cup your cheeks, pulling you close to him with the desperation of a dying man.

he feels you gasp against his mouth, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip inside. he maps the cavern of your mouth as if immortalising it in his mind, like he’ll never see you again after this— because that is very well a possibility, no matter how he tries to ignore it.

silver kisses you like it’s his last day in this godforsaken world, because it might as well be, and great seven, he should have done this every time he kissed you. he should have kissed you first. he should have kissed you every moment he could instead of taking his time because now he can hear the sand running in the hourglass, and he’s blind to how much time he has left, and he just wants to see you in the flesh again, please, please, please—

the two of you part an eternity later, but it still feels much too soon. there’s so much love in him, and too little time, and silver feels like drowning.

"wait for me," silver pleads. he'll make this dream come true, he swears. he’ll give you all the love he has in this wretched body of his, and then some. he’ll never sleep again even, if only to make this dream come true.

"i will," you whisper breathlessly—

—and with a bittersweet smile and a final, fleeting kiss to his lips, you let him go.

© trappolia 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let me know if you want more. Didn't get too much on Part 1 but I have ideas so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your third week begins in the same place. Before the iron gate, the code unlocking the green maze within. You’re still just as impressed as your first day there. To you, it’s like a fantasy. Entirely unattainable but it’s right there. You can look, but you can’t touch… not beyond cleaning.

You linger outside, not thinking. You admire the tall tulips and the hedge trimmed to resemble some landmark you can’t quite place. You could see a place like this in an Austenian film or perhaps something Victorian. You don’t have an eye for the difference.

You key in the code for the backdoor and continue on. You put covers on your shoes and grab a fresh set of gloves. You’re getting into a pattern, though each client differs slightly. You put your things away and bring your water bottle with you. You bought a cool strap that keeps it against your hip, a small splurge with your first paycheck. The rest went to bills.

As you start on your usual journey through the many rooms of the airy house, you wonder how its sole resident isn’t lonely. Or perhaps he is. He doesn’t seem the type to admit to it. You turn your thoughts back to your work. You try not to think of him, truly, you don’t know much of him.

You take a candlestick and polish it. You move on the small globe; an ivory orb on a silver axes, the outlines of the continent carved into the surface. As you put it back, you notice something. An item you can’t recall being there before. You reach for it but stop as you realise it’s a camera.

You retract your hand and move on to dust the shelf itself. Does he not trust you or was it there before? Of course, somewhere like this would need security. There was a story just the other day about a break-in, but that was closer to your father’s where those culprits dwell.

The second floor is always easier. It seems even less lived-in than below. All but the study and the main bedroom. You flit in and out, checking points off the list until you’re content. You can only hope he will be too.

As you descend, the epiphany tickles your brain. It’s the first shift he hasn’t appeared. It’s easy to assume he’s busy. You don’t expect him to hang around. As if he would supervise you. Besides, that’s probably what the cameras are for.

You pack up and get your single refill of water. You leave the way you came, as you have twice before. The keypad flashes red to signal the lock is in place. You haul your kit higher on your shoulder and tread slowly along the little path along the side of the house.

You look at the gazebo trimmed in hanging ivy. It’s beautiful. You’d like to venture up and sit on that bench. Just sit and watch and smell and feel. You force the thought away and turn back along the stonework.

You’re going home. Not to pollen but tobacco smoke. Not to lush gardens but wilting strands in soggy mud. Not to immaculate floors and pristine decor but to stained walls and broken springs in your mattress. 

Home, to another man that makes you nervous.

🧹

Your father is as he always is, smoking on the couch. You say hi as you come in with a bag of groceries, the prize for what was left of your check. He grumbles and flicks through the channels. You go to the kitchen to put away the food.

You’re almost at the end of your first month, a third of the way through your probationary period. Hopefully after that, you can pick up more clients. You shut the cupboard and go back to the living room. Your father coughs into a crumpled tissue. He sounds horrible. You can’t say so, he doesn’t seem to care.

“I got some fresh produce,” you announce proudly, “I’ll steam some veggies with the chops.”

“You get fries?” He growls.

“Uh, no,” you admit, “I thought we could eat something healthier–”

“I don’t like steamed veggies,” he drops the remote and grabs his pack of smokes.

“Oh, sorry, I was only thinking–”

“Don’t lie and say you were,” he snorts as he pulls out a cigarette and taps the end of the pack. “Go on, I’m tryna watch this.”

He nods at the television and you follow his gaze to the rerun of All in the Family. He’s seen them all before. You take the dismissal and retreat up to your room. Like you always do.

It’s always been like this. You don’t hate your father but sometimes it feels like he hates you. You put your kit and your water bottle on your dress and change into clean clothes. You lay in bed and close your eyes, trying to let go of the tension in your muscles.

You don’t remember your mom but he does. You assume that’s why he’s like this. It’s not you, it’s what happened. Tragic. A loss he won’t talk about.

You rub your forehead and let your arms fall to bend on either side of your head. You only ever saw one picture of your mother. You don’t think you look like her. She was pretty. And young. You were always too afraid to ask about her but you could tell she was younger than him. No one could’ve expected her to go so soon.

You close your eyes. It’s a strange sort of grief to miss someone who is only a shadow in your mind. Not even a voice, just this ghost you know by name. Mommy…

You blow out a deep breath in an effort to bid away the sadness. That was so long ago. This is now and you have a lot to worry about.

🧹

The Laufeyson house greets you once more with its elaborate brickwork. It’s starting to feel familiar, like a habit to put in the new code and walk along the winding path around to the back door. Six more numbers and you’re inside; shoe covers, gloves, bottle, and the list.

You always check the new email sent by the agency. There’s always something small and new squeezed into the bullet points. This week, you notice the first task is laundry. 

‘Retrieve hamper from hallway. When hamper is left outside door, it means clothes must be washed.’

Easy enough. You go upstairs first and take the tall hamper from beside the door frame. It’s heavy and there’s no wheels to aid in your struggle. The laundry room is downstairs. Your descent is treacherous, one step at a time as you haul the basket down step by step. If Mr. Laufeyson is there, he can’t happy with the noise.

You finally get to the machine and follow the instructions about cycle type and separating colours from whites. However, there is only the bedding to be cleaned. You load the linens in and take a moment to figure out the touchscreen. Your father’s machine has a dial that only works on one setting and gives off a dingy stench.

You leave the basket in front of the washer and retreat to start your usual progression through the urban manse. Mop, sweep, dust, vacuum, polish; hallway, kitchen, dining room, sitting room… Nothing unusual or unexpected.

As you cross the narrow foyer to the den, the sunshine glows a warm orange through the slender windows on either side of the front door. The patterning of the glass reflects prettily on the floor. Despite your best efforts, you can’t help but imagine residing somewhere so brilliant.

You sigh and carry on. You’re sure to open the long drapes to let in the late spring sunshine. It’s not so bad working in the light and you can see where the rare spec of dust is hiding. You go to the tall shelf beside the record player and pull out the albums to wipe beneath them. Music would be jarring in a place always so silent.

You slip the albums back into place, pulling out one to admire the cover; Ane Brun. You’ve never heard of them. You read the track list curiously. You know you shouldn’t be wasting time.

“I don’t believe I’d have anything to your taste on my shelf,” the mocking slither has you pushing the album in line with the rest.

You almost apologise but you remember. You don’t speak. You just clean. So clean.

You glance over at Mr. Laufeyson as he struts in, a book held in one hand as his other is tucked in his pocket. He wears his usual pressed attire; a dark button-up and even darker slacks. You note that he has no tie that day. A single curl dangles by his temple as the rest of his black hair is precisely combed back.

You return to your tasks, gently wiping the cover of the record player and along the stand. You  hear the book drop onto the low table before the sofa before his footsteps continue on; closer. He approaches as you get to the next shelf, a collection of EPs in unmarked sleeves.

You wince as he stops near you, flipping up the cover of the sleek record player before stepping back to peruse his selection. You do your best to keep on as he looms. The air is thick and suffocating. Should you go to the next room and come back?

He slips a record free of its sleeve and places it carefully on the players. He moves the needle over and flips the switch, a crackle before the sound drones from the tall standing speakers. Acoustic guitar with a gritty feel to it. The sudden addition of a woman’s voice jolts you; her tone is peculiar but not unpleasant.

When I woke I took the backdoor to my mind And then I spoke I counted all of the good things you are

He backs away without a word. Not an explanation. You finish cleaning the second shelf and dare to glance over. He reads his book on the couch, unbothered by your existence. That isn’t too unfamiliar.

You finish the space but leave the vacuuming for later. You wouldn’t want to ruin the music. You go into what you can only call a sunroom. The french doors peek out onto the garden and a patio set with a large dining set in white iron and glass.

The music drifts in and keeps you company. It almost makes the work easier. You make quick work and go to check the washer to switch over the load. Once you have the dryer figured out, you begin on the second floor.

It’s only as you come out of one of the guestrooms that you notice the silence is returned. You turn down the hallway and near the next door. You enter the study with your usual reverence. Something about the space is intimidating. 

The large leather chair with its dimpled back and the even bigger desk; slabs of marble set into polished ebony. Shelves of a similar material, decked out with numerous volumes and the occasional ornament. Some appear even to be genuine artifacts. The rug at the centre is patterned in Persian style.

Behind the desk are a set of doors that open onto a balcony. The drapes are drawn shut. You find that is often the case. It’s a sombre and dark space hidden from the bright gardens without. Your tasks here are minimal. You use the hand vacuum and dust the shelves. You aren’t to touch the desk at all.

A shadow startles you as you drag the cloth along the edge of the bookshelf. Your eyes round and you look over as Mr. Laufeyson enters. You blanch but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He sighs and goes to the desk, sitting in the chair and wheeling it closer. You narrow your sights on the shelves; focus.

You feel a tremble but quickly shake it away. This is his home, he must be able to exist within it, but this feels strange, almost deliberate. Is he trying to make some point? To scare you? You remember the mention of those who came before you. Did they quit or did he dismiss them? Regardless, you can’t afford either.

It isn’t that difficult to follow the rules. Don’t speak? You haven’t much to say. You get closer as you advance along the shelves to the back of the office. He lets out another long exhale. His chair creaks, once, twice, and again.

“Hm,” he rolls back and swivels, an action you observe from the corner of your eye. He tuts and wheels back to the desk, resuming tapping on the keys of his slender laptop. The glow limns his silhouette sinisterly.

You rustle the drapes as you pass them and cross to the opposite shelves. As you brush over the spines of the books, you nearly drop the cloth. His low hum frightens you as he mimics the same melody that played from the speakers below. His tone is deep and sonorous, even delightful.

You squeeze the cloth and pause before regaining your composure. This cannot be a coincidence. The camera and now he’s following you. Or so it seems. Does he distrust you? What reason have you given him?

You are mindful to wipe down the bronze statue of what you assume is a viking warrior. You place it back staunchly, making sure your work is entirely visible to him. You are honest and you like to think you do your work well. Or at least, you try to. Perhaps if he sees that effort, he won’t be so suspicious.

As you head for the door, he quits his humming. His chair squeaks again.

“You are rather more thorough than the last,” he muses.

You stop and turn your head. You nod. He’s baiting you to break his number one rule.

“And you take orders well,” he adds blithely, “that is rare these days.” He taps a key again, “as you were.”

You take the dismissal in stride and flit off to your next task. It isn’t much, maybe only a statement of fact, but it’s something. He isn’t unhappy with your work. So far, neither are you.

[markpellegrinoimagines]

Soulmate V.2

Request: Could you do a soulmate with lucifer, He kidnaps her and she can see his wings.

Tw: Wing!kink, Smut, Kidnapping, Rough!Foreplay

-

Sam and Dean were always telling her that she was too bold. Unafraid of the consequences as she stared down adversaries wether they were demons, Or Angel's. It's most likely why she'd ended up in her current situation. Y/n had been trailing a demon for days now, the black eyed bastard was the best lead she had for tracking down an important artifact. She'd been stopped for the night, taking a much needed rest after days of stalking her prey.

That's when the dammed thing struck. She was fresh from a shower with a towel wrapped tightly around her form when pain exploded across the back of her head and the sight of her meager room went black, with her body hitting the floor with a loud thump.

Y/n felt feeling returning to her limbs, and her senses slowly slipped back into awareness. The first thing to hit her was the smell. It was musty, like old mildew and dust. The next was sound. Aged creaking of settling rafters and the squeak of old springs when she shifts against the uncomfortable surface she was laid upon.

Slowly and very carefully, Y/n pushed herself up until she could look around through hazy vision at what appeared to be an abandoned studio apartment. She was laid out in a dust covered bed and could feel the grit of it scraping across her skin. Not far from the bed was a living area with worn down couches and a coffee table with several layers of dust across its surface.

A chill sent shivers racing up and down her spine, and she snapped her gaze down. The damp towel shed been wrapped in after her shower was slipping loose, revealing bare skin, and she hurriedly pulled it tight, covering her extremities.

She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and slowly ended up into her feet. The back of her skull throbbed with each movement, and the floor boards creaked under her feet. Couldn't the demon have waited until she at least had some clothes on?

There wasn't a single article of fabric she could use to cover herself. The place was picked clean, and she wasn't willing to come in contact with those bed sheets any longer than she'd already had.

"Oh fuck me.."

A dark chuckle and a freezing cold filled the room, making her whip around until she was facing the new threat. "Was that an invitation? I'm flattered, Little Human..." Glaciap blue eyes slid up and down her form, lingering on the lower hem of the towel. "Did you dress this way just for me~?"

Lucifer waited for her response. This was his first time meeting the little hunter that was often seen around the Winchester boys. She was quite the sight. He'd been expecting more flannel and crass remarks. Not this sweet little human with wide e/c eyes. In fact... it was as if she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was locked up and over his shoulder and her pupils were trembling with what he could only assume was awe.

Y/n had paused in what she'd been planning to say as she watched the large shimmering mass shift behind the form of the tall blue-eyed blonde. The more she focused on the ethereal mass, the more detailed it became. Six large arching wings hung from the man's back, They were a smokey silver tipped in burnt Pink and veins of glittering gold through every quill. Each shift sent a wave of ash to the floor.

They were gorgeous. Their unique and tragic beauty had her completely captured by awe. The urge to run her fings through the mass of feathers was strong. She completely zoned out the Blondes words.

Lucifer was feeling his patience wain. He'd wanted long enough, and the human hadn't even met his gaze for a mere second. Did she believe she was better than him? He slowly stalked forward, an angry frown beginning to pull at the edge of his lips before it lifted into a cruel grin. She still wasn't meeting his eyes.

His fingers closed around the weak column of her neck. She was so vulnerable and frail.. He ignored the small thrill that ran through him as he examined the way his vessels hand looked around her throat.

He could feel her pulse hammering away beneath the pads of his fingers. The beat, a salacious dance, tempted him in closer as he eyed her with glowing red eyes.

"I'll not be ignored by a sniveling little Mud-"

"Your wings are so beautiful...~"

Lucifers jaw shut with a clack of teeth and a crack of the joint. Her words echoed in his skull, buzzing around his grace. What did she just say?

His fingers tightened further and was soon joined by his other hand, caging in her cheeks.

"Repeat that, Now!?"

Y/n swallowed as an embered heat warmed her lower belly. A small hint of concern ebbed its way through the back of her mind. All logic was seeping out of her ears in the presence of this angel. It was just her luck she somehow managed to capture the interest of Lucifer, and now she couldn't even keep her head on straight. His hands squeezing her vulnerable throat should not be making her nearly as hot bother as it is.

"I said, You're wings are beautiful... I.."

Lucifers thoughts were moving a mile a second, A mate.. A soulmate..

Out of all the things his father could have done.. A human soulmate..

A humorless chuckle slipped past his lips. Was this his punishment? His eyes once again trailed down her toweled form, and the cleavage he could see wrapped loosely in its soft hold. His smirk grew as something settled over him..

Or maybe it wasnt..~

"You know little human~ I had you grabbed because of your relation to the winchesters. But it's seems," His slowly slid up one of his hands to run his fingers through h/l h/c locks, "I've found a different reason to keep you around..."

He watched her brows furrow in confusion, only to lift in alarm when chilled lips descend om her own. Capturing them in a demanding and devouring press. Two prodding tips slowly pride her lips open until he was able to twirl his split tongue around her warm muscle.

Y/n was lost the second his lips brushed hers. The low embers in her gut flared to life in an explosion of desire and need as she raised trembling hands to press almost uncertainly into the soft mass of feathers. That one touch unlocked the flood works as lucifer trembled against her and a dark needy groan was growled into her open mouth.

Freezing palms hooked underneath her bare thighs, and she barely recognized the twisting feeling of the world warping around her in a flurry of feathers and wind. Her back connected with silky smooth fabric as she was roughly pinned down against a soft bouncy surface.

Y/n cracked open her eyes and pulled her lips from the angels, scanning their new surroundings. The room was dark with an arched ceiling. The bed she'd been pressed down into had a large canopy hung above with deep red curtains closing them inside.

Soon, her attention was being drawn back to lucifer. Unable to stray away for long. E/c eyes widened considerably as she takes in the swath of bared skin. When had he...?

"When.."

"Shhh..." A chilled finger pressed against her lips quieting her thoughts as he used his free hand to arrange her legs around his waist and situate his hardened length between slick folds.

Y/n whined low in her throat when those first few rolls of his hips had his tip knocking against her sensitive clit. When it catches against her dripping entrance before slipping up to bounce against that nub, she lets out a loud whimper.

"That's it, Just like that little Human~ let me hear your pleasure."

As soon as his finger slipped free from her lips, a loud moan of his name filled the space, "Lucifer!~"

It tapered off into a gasping and breathy mewl as the chilled flesh of his length began to stretch her open, inch by inch. Heels dug into his back, urging her forward until his hips were flush with her own, and he was growling possessive obscenities into the shell of her ear.

"Made just for me, my own little human.. to keep.. to claim and Fill~ All mine!" His hips snapped harshly into the Crease of her thighs, carving her dripping walls open with every body jolting lunge of hips. The obscene smack of thighs was accompanied with gasping mewls from his little souldmates lips.

"Lu-Lucifer!! Ah~ Harder..please~!"

His response was a growl and glowing red eyes. Blunt chilled nails dug divots into her waist, holding her in place, giving him more leverage with every thrust. She could already feel the coil tightening up in her gut, threatening to snap at any second. It seemed even the Archangel rutting her into the sheets was needing the edge of pleasure.

A tsunami of ecstasy threatening to drown them both within the coiling Abyss of need sinking its claws into them both. Lucifers hands slipped up her waist until his palms were caging her cheeks and pulling her melting lips to meet his own in a possessive kiss. Her owns fingers slunk up and around his shoulders to trail teasingly along the muscled ridge of his wings.

They shuttered against her touch, and then she sank her hands into the feathers. It was all Lucifer needed to be sent crashing over the edge, his teeth scraping teasingly against her bottom lip.

Y/ns legs tightened around his hips as a warmth spread through her lower gut, Lucifer rolled his hips, pressing his release deeper into her core with every grunt and meeting of flesh. Her little whimpers were music to his ears as he nipped his teeth against her shoulder.

"You won't be leaving this bed, I'll have you begging me for my touch, Mewling and crying for more~"

He watched her cheeks flush, and he could barely restrain himself as he felt those little human fingers once again tease through ashen feathers.

"Please, Lucifer~ Don't stop.."

-

[mintywolf]

She can’t blame them for wanting to tear down the ivy from the barn. After all, it had tried to eat several of her friends the first time they had visited it, in the other here. But at Laudna’s insistence, they have left it climbing on the walls of the cottage. She likes the wild, overgrown look of it, and the reminder of the passage of time in its reach.

Chetney has repaired the roof, loudly decrying the state of the timbers all the while, and there’s now a fresh cover of fragrant heather thatching. Thanks to Orym the new window boxes are full of violets and petunias, and the flowerbeds beside the door lined with columbine and the long stems of purple and blue larkspur and hollyhocks. Fearne, in the shape of a mossy-hoofed water buffalo, has turned over one of the dormant fields to make a vegetable patch, and there’s an herb garden in progress by the kitchen door. Ashton has contributed a scarecrow in the gangly shape of the Nightmare King and evened out the cobblestone path. Imogen’s magic has determinedly cleaned the dust and grime of forgotten decades from the interior, and Laudna’s has mended what she could find to mend.

It’s surprising how much there was still there to find. A kettle left hanging on its hook over the hearth. Dishes still stacked in warped and lopsided kitchen cupboards. A blue and white quilt, mostly preserved from the harrowing of time, folded up in a blanket chest at the foot of her parents’ bed. A faded needlepoint Sun Tree in a frame on the kitchen wall. A rusted tea tin in the haymow containing a crow feather, two empty spools, a handful of mismatched buttons, a pewter unicorn, and other child’s treasures. A dented copper washtub and a washboard in the scullery, now home to a family of voles. A glass jar of marbles in a trunk underneath the rickety structure that used to be her bed up in the loft. Fifteen numbered markings on the kitchen doorframe, ending at her own height. Pegs on the entryway wall still waiting to receive the coats and hoods of the family who went out one winter night and never returned. It’s eerie, stepping into a place that has, like the rest of the world, gone on aging without her, but not entirely unwelcoming.

They clear out what she doesn’t want to save, or is beyond saving, and move around what she does, just so it’s a little different. With the kitchen table at a new angle she’s less likely to expect to see her mother there cutting apples, and instead able to think of Imogen kneading bread dough with her capable hands. Imogen framed by firelight as she reads on the couch by the living room hearth instead of her father in his armchair whittling. Imogen holding the other end of a blanket as they spread it out over the bed in the room that is no longer the place she would come running from a scary dream, but their own.

When the sun begins to set on a day of hard work they wave goodbye to the other Hells as they set off to return to Whitestone for an evening with the crew of the Silver Sun, docked at the skyport. Laudna wipes her work-grimy hands on her apron and takes Pâté out of the pocket, tossing him up into the air so he can stretch his wings. She slips her hand into Imogen’s as they amble around their farmstead, the late spring grass cool and dewy between her bare toes. Pâté bobs after them like a large and particularly ungainly bumblebee. In the soft-footed gloaming, beneath a sky the same color as her wife’s hair, everything looks both new and familiar at once.

(Read more on AO3)

And so I guess Remember Us is now complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following it for the past year.

💜🖤

[beloved-calypso]

ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀᴜʀᴏʀᴀ ꜱᴜʙʟɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ II ᥫ᭡ ~

⋆⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈.

𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒆'𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒖𝒓.

𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓

⋆⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

ᥫ᭡ AFFIRMATIONS ᥫ᭡

୨♡୧ You are blessed with the gift of song by your fairy godmothers,

୨♡୧ You have the gorgeous singing voice of young, Mary Costa, the voice actress of Princess Aurora,

୨♡୧ Your voice reminds people of Aurora and they are immediately transported to Sleeping Beauty when they hear you sing,

୨♡୧ Everything about your voice is every bit as enchanting and mystical as Mary Costa's,

୨♡୧ You are an incredibly eloquent and clear speaker,

୨♡୧ Your voice elevates your charisma by 150%,

୨♡୧ Your voice creates the most beautiful sounds on Earth,

୨♡୧ Your voice is an instrument by itself, it can create the most unique and pleasant sounds ever heard,

୨♡୧ The very essence of your voice is all things beautiful and enchanting,

୨♡୧ You have the dreamiest, sweetest, and most exquisite voice in the world,

୨♡୧ When people hear you, they think you're an incarnation of an Angel,

୨♡୧ Your voice has a calm and soothing effect on all species of creatures on Earth,

୨♡୧ Your words are smooth and full of eloquence,

୨♡୧ You have a voice fit for royalty and no one is able to resist following your commands,

୨♡୧ People cannot help but to love you when they hear you,

୨♡୧ Vocal couches have tried painstakingly to capture the lilts and nuances of your voice,

୨♡୧ You're talent is admired by everyone that hears it,

୨♡୧ Your words are never misinterpreted or misconstrued,

୨♡୧ Your voice becomes 10x more melodic when you say sweet things,

୨♡୧ People cannot get enough of hearing you,

୨♡୧ You exemplify the Enchantress archetype,

୨♡୧ Every word you speak drips with honey and sweetness,

୨♡୧ You have a type of voice like none other,

୨♡୧ Your voice is equivalent with every synonym of beauty and pleasantness,

୨♡୧ You always have complete control of your voice, it never cracks nor wavers,

୨♡୧ Notes slip from your mouth like water,

୨♡୧ You have the depth and power of the sea and the dynamic and swift power of air within your voice,

୨♡୧ Your voice has the bottom range of the most deepest trenches and the upper range of the highest mountain peaks,

୨♡୧ Every word that comes out of your mouth is euphonious and heart-stopping,

୨♡୧ Your belts are powerful and clean and your runs swift and elaborate,

୨♡୧ Every sound you make is ethereal and otherworldly,

୨♡୧ Your laughter is like the tingling of silver bells,

୨♡୧ Your very humming is sweeter than any honey in the world,

୨♡୧ Even your crying is aesthetically beautiful and calming,

୨♡୧ Your voice is both fragile and strong, deep and high, steady yet elastic,

୨♡୧ Your voice is universally gorgeous,

୨♡୧ Your voice sounds like strawberries with cream, skates on ice, and sunbeams warming the earth,

୨♡୧ Your voice is absolutely decadent and lush,

୨♡୧ Angels cry when they hear you sing,

୨♡୧ Your voice is not bound by any human limitations,

୨♡୧ Your voice is hauntingily beautiful and leaves a ghostly kiss on all those that hear you,

୨♡୧ You are able to capture every range of human emotion and can provoke tears, laughter, and heart-wrenching sighs in your audience,

୨♡୧ Your voice gifts life and richness to all those that have ears,

୨♡୧ Your voice is as lovely as a flowing spring,

୨♡୧ Your voice can make surrounding flora bloom,

୨♡୧ Your voice brings sunlight through rain,

୨♡୧ Butterfly's love hovering over your head and shoulders while you sing,

୨♡୧ Prey and predators will kneel before you and keep calm by your Angelic songs,

୨♡୧ Bees and small critters get drunk off the sound of you,

୨♡୧ Birds love to hear you sing and often like to sing with you,

୨♡୧ You can tame angry lions with your voice alone,

୨♡୧ All fauna on the earth are companions to you when you sing,

୨♡୧ Your voice is so powerful you can communicate and be understood by animals,

୨♡୧ Your voice is incredibly magnetic and hypnotic to anything around you, organic and inorganic,

୨♡୧ People have heard stories of your voice across countries,

୨♡୧ Your voice can create storms or gentle winds as you deem it

୨♡୧ The effect of your voice isn't anything less than religious,

୨♡୧ The words you say can move mountains,

୨♡୧ Your words can send a thousand ships to sail,

୨♡୧ Things happen just by you saying they do,

୨♡୧ You can get out of any situation you want by speaking it,

୨♡୧ If you asked the Earth to grow you food she will do so,

୨♡୧ Every creature on Earth cannot resist doing what you ask,

୨♡୧ Every word you speak acts as a spell,

୨♡୧ You can create literal magic with your voice,

୨♡୧ Your voice is your prime means of manifestation,

୨♡୧ Anything you say comes true,

୨♡୧ You send people to different worlds with your singing,

୨♡୧ Your voice is so good people think it's unnatural,

୨♡୧ Everyone that hears you becomes completely enchanted and mystified by you,

୨♡୧ You have a warm and golden voice, bringing warmth and joy to all your surroundings,

୨♡୧ Everything about your voice is mystical and mellifluous,

୨♡୧ You are a supremely talented singer,

୨♡୧ Your voice just naturally attunes to singing,

୨♡୧ The nightingale is your ever-present troubadour,

୨♡୧ You are a magnificent songbird,

୨♡୧ You create the sweetest serenades that make all people and animals love you,

୨♡୧ You can travel through vocal registers at lightning speed,

୨♡୧ Your voice is as powerful and fluid as a waterfall,

୨♡୧ You can reach the depths of earth and carry whatever tone you like, husky, deep, soft or high,

୨♡୧ Your lower range is dark and heavy and your higher range is bright and clear,

୨♡୧ Your sonic diversity knows no bounds and you are a master at your craft,

୨♡୧ No one can beat you in a singing contest, not even the greatest singers alive,

୨♡୧ Songwriting comes as easy to you as breathing,

୨♡୧ You are the most incredible and talented writer in existence,

୨♡୧ Anything that you write is given life and breathe,

୨♡୧ Everyone is fascinated with every word written and spoken by you,

୨♡୧ You can make a song about anything and it becomes an instant hit,

୨♡୧ You are a master of everything pertaining to words,

୨♡୧ Your poetry can move even the coldest and darkest hearts into activism,

୨♡୧ You can save the world with your words,

୨♡୧ Your vocal abilities get 15x better everytime you sleep,

୨♡୧ Everytime people hear you sing they get racked with goosebumps and shivers,

୨♡୧ Everything about your voice is sonically perfect,

୨♡୧ Your voice is elastic as a rubber band but strong like steel,

୨♡୧ Your voice is immune from aging or any wear and tear life throws at it,

୨♡୧ Your voice is forever youthful and healthy,

୨♡୧ Your voice can rival any of the biggest stars from the past and today,

୨♡୧ Your voice can reach the hearts of everyone on Earth,

୨♡୧ Everyone that ever hears you agrees you're the best singer they've ever heard,

୨♡୧ your singing is lush and full

୨♡୧ You are able to sing rich and deep,

୨♡୧ Your resonance is insane and your voice drips with melisma,

୨♡୧ You can sing a hundred notes in a second and reach minute long runs,

୨♡୧ You never feel out of breath from singing,

୨♡୧ You can play any singer type in an Opera,

୨♡୧ You've been singing the most beautiful melodys your whole, entire life long,

୨♡୧ People would throw money at you on the street just to hear you sing,

୨♡୧ Fairies and supernatural creatures cannot help but to crowd around you and simply listen when they hear you sing

୨♡୧ Your singing is absolutely lovely and redefines the word perfection,

୨♡୧ Your singing evokes light and love within everything,

୨♡୧ Your singing is like satin and velvet, sugar and cream, roses coming to bloom,

୨♡୧ Your singing is like that of the famed Sirens that caused men to crash on rocks,

୨♡୧ Your singing can rival that of Angels and the sweetest birds,

୨♡୧ You are the supreme songstress of the world.

SIDENOTES:

Check out my YouTube channel for more subliminal and tarot content: @akumariek2401

Once I hit 50 subscribers I will do regular free readings every week.

⋆⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 𝓜𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮'𝓼 ᥫ᭡

[true-blue-sonic]

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening, Blue!!

☆ - happy headcanon

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

☼ - appearance headcanon

ൠ - random headcanon

For Sonic & Silver for the Ask Game

Good evening! ^-^

Sonic:

☆ - happy headcanon

Though he won't brag about it, he's happy to hear from people who he helped out, and I can imagine he's always willing to stop for a quick chat when he's out in a town or city somewhere!

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Afaik Sonic doesn't have his own house, but I figure in Tails' workshops there's always a place he can crash: be it a bedroom for himself or simply the couch. For the latter, Tails is always left annoyed with the sea of blue quills on it in the morning, though.

☼ - appearance headcanon

Doesn't like appearing dirty or sweaty, so on his runs he stops occasionally at a pond or spring to freshen up a bit. This is also how he keeps stumbling into Chao gardens, since those need to have clean water for the Chao to grow. But that's his secret, so everyone is left wondering how he doesn't appear muddy in the slightest when they come across him, haha!

ൠ - random headcanon

Probably holds the world record for the spiciest chili dog ever eaten, considering he eats his with jalapeno peppers and he also doesn't shy away from a challenge...

Silver

☆ - happy headcanon

His friends collect postcards and stuff to give him when he comes to the past, so he can see what beautiful scenery and stuff the world has to offer <3 In turn, he might take pictures of what those places look like in the future and compare them together with his friends.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Is actively juggling the cultivation of and care for about one million plants, with hundreds of ideas on how to keep them all hydrated and protected when it's hot out but he's gone for a period of time. In other words, the whole room is a tripping hazard of wet ropes connected between a bucket of water and the dozens of plant pots XD

☼ - appearance headcanon

I like to think he'll grow taller and a bit more strong-shouldered in the future; if he ever outgrows Sonic in a noticeable way, he'll probably be very smug about it, haha!

ൠ - random headcanon

I think Silver might enjoy learning, assuming it is not the "locked for 8 hours in a school" kind of learning. In order to learn, he mostly travels around and tries to make sense of things his own way, with the occasional book or conversation with someone to help guide him further.

[aurborsau]

❆ Perfect strangers ❆

— paring: Terry silver/Daniel LaRusso

— genre: omegaverse

— word count: 3,291

— rating: mature

[ao3 link]

summary - Daniel rents a cabin in the middle of nowhere during winter break for an important job interview, but it just so happens that the cabins been double-booked.

Daniel had finally secured an interview for the job opportunity of his dreams.

The only catch was that it was in Michigan, and he had just two days to get there. With winter break in full swing, his options for accommodation were limited. The only available option was a cabin deep in the woods.

but it just so happens that the cabins been double-booked. The man who rented the place before him introducing himself as Terry Silver. Daniel could smell the Alpha even from outside the snow covered cabin, a sharp, musky aroma consuming him the second he opened the door. Even on his blockers, Daniel couldn’t deny his attraction to the Tall, handsome, Alpha. He found himself instinctively following Terry inside as they tried to resolve the rental mishap. The man was surprisingly kind, assisting him with his bag and taking his jacket to hang it on the hook.

“I’ll just drive back to town and see if I can find a motel or something.” Daniel offers.

“No.” Terry is quick to interrupt. “Your not going out there, especially not with that storm that’s going to be rolling through here any minute.”

Daniel remembers checking the forecast earlier that day and seeing a blizzard rolling through the area. “Look. I don’t mind sleeping in my car, I would understand if you were hesitant about sleeping under the same roof as an Alpha.” Terrys piercing, blue eyes never leaving his.

“Maybe I am a little hesitant.” Daniel admits. “But I’m not going to make you sleep in your car. It’s freezing out there.”

Terry chuckled softly, the warmth of his laughter filling the small cabin. "Daniel, it's alright. I insist, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” It was strange, but he found himself trusting this stranger. “Hey, you know what? the place is big enough for the both of us, and I’m on scent-blockers so I don’t think we have to worry about anything like that.” Daniel hinted, trying to hide the blush that's spreading across his cheeks at the thought of something happening between them. He swallows hard, feeling the Alpha's gaze burning into him. “Right, that would make the most sense wouldn’t it…? I’ll sleep on the couch.” Terry insistent, and Daniel takes in the man’s tall stature, the couch far too small to accommodate his size. “your not-“

“It’s decided.” Terry interrupts. “You must’ve been driving all day, I'm not letting you sleep on this old bag of springs.” Daniel agreed, still a bit flustered but trying to shake it off. “Thank you, Terry.” He nodded. “Of course... If you’d like to wash up, there’s a bathroom just there.” He pointed to the door on the left.

“I appreciate it." Daniel replied, walking towards the bathroom with his pile of clean clothes from his bag. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, locking the door behind him. He could smell the Alpha on his clothes, in his hair, on his skin. His scent was so intoxicating despite not even touching the boy.

He began to wash up, ridding himself of the tension and sweat from a long day of driving. Turning off the tap, he stepped out onto the tile and swiped his hand over the steamed up mirror. He grabbed his comb from the pile of clothes sitting on the sink, brushing through his hair and parting it down the middle like he usually did, his bangs framing his face. He dried himself off with a towel, trying not to think about the fact that the Alpha was just outside the door, waiting.

As he finished drying himself, he picked up his clothes from the sink: a tiny pair of shorts and an oversized white tee, his hard nipples peaking through the thin fabric.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, the aroma of soup filled his nostrils, clouding the scent of the alpha just slightly. Two bowls of soup, a bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the table. The fireplace was set ablaze, as well as the candles that adorned the mantle.

Terry stopped in his tracks upon Daniels arrival, eyeing his body as steam dispersed from behind him as he walked out of the bathroom. His eyes swept over the boy's body, taking in every inch. He could see the blush spreading across Daniel's cheeks as he looked away quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of Terry's lips. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away from Daniel's tempting body and back to the table. "Are you hungry? Canned foods was all that was left.”

“Uh… yeah." He said, his stomach growling audibly as he approached the table, sitting down carefully, trying not to let the shorts ride up any further than they already were. Terry sat down across from him, pouring them both a glass of wine. He took a small sip of the crimson liquid, his eyes darting between Terry and the food on the table, the wine was smooth, going down his throat like silk. He took a sip of his soup, savoring the warmth as it spread through his body. His abdomen ached slightly, a heat settling low in his stomach that refused to rest.

Daniel then looked at his watch. Reading 10:30 PM. groaning. he suddenly remembered he forgot to take his suppressants for the night, already feeling the withdrawal symptoms creeping up. He got up to rifle through his duffel bag, searching for that little round case that held his suppresses, but he was met with nothing but toiletries and other various items.

Terry watched as Daniel rummaged through his bag, a brow raised in confusion. “What are you looking for?” He questioned. "My suppressants... I can’t find them." Daniel replied, going to check the pockets of his jacket and sifting through his dirty laundry to no avail. “You must have dropped them in your car.” Terry offers, giving Daniel a gleam of hope. That is until he looks out the window and sees that his car is covered in a heavy pile of snow. He had heard the hailstones clattering against the roof while he was in the shower, but he only expected a mere snowfall. “The storm should stop by the morning. You’ll get it then.” Daniel bit his lip in uncertainty. Usually if he missed a day, it was fine. Though, he still worried that being in such close proximity to the Alpha would effect him.

Terry seemed to sense the apprehension on his face, the way Daniel bit his lip as he peered anxiously through the frost covered window. “Daniel.” He came back to reality the second he heard the Alphas voice. “It’s going to be alright. Trust me. Just come sit down before your food gets cold.” He found himself mindlessly complying to his orders, sitting down on the chair across from him.

Terry brought their dishes to the sink after they finished, Daniel could suddenly feel his shoulders start to tense up, his mating gland tender to the touch. A choked out “ah” leaving his lips as he kneaded his shoulder, Terry looked over at the sound, his eyes softening as he saw Daniel's discomfort. “Everything alright?” His tone, soothing.“Yeah, no I’m good" He mumbled, biting his lip nervously. “My necks just a little stiff is all.” He explained, his eyes straying to the fireplace, anywhere but meeting Terry's eyes.

He approached the boy, his warm hands coming to rest on Daniel's delicate shoulders. “Here,” He murmured, pushing gently at his neck. The second his rough hands made contact with his skin, it felt as if a jolt of electricity shot through his entire body. The tingling sensation spread like wildfire, every nerve ending set ablaze by a single touch. Daniel couldn't help the small moan that escaped him, the Alpha’s touch being everything he didn’t know he needed. He heard a groan come from the man above him as he pinched his scent gland, releasing pheromones that filled the small cabin. Terry continued to knead at his shoulders, grinding his knuckles into the tense muscles, eliciting soft whimpers from the boy. Daniel's eyes fluttered shut, his body shivering slightly under the Alpha’s touch. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle another moan that threatened to escape his lips. “That’s it.” He soothed. “Let me take care of you," he whispered, his hot breath fanning over Daniel's neck as he moved closer.

Lost in the moment, Daniel was too high on pheromones to notice the power suddenly shut off. Terry pulled his hands off of his skin, making him shiver at the loss.

Daniel's eyes fluttered open, his breath heavy and his mind disoriented. He looked up at Terry, his voice trembling as he asked, "W-what happened?" Terry's eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head towards the window. "Power's out. Must be one hell of a storm," he muttered, frustration evident as he futilely flicked a switch on the wall. Daniel's heart raced, his skin still tingling from the sudden loss of sensation. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as he watched as Terry dealt with the situation at hand. "Oh," was all he could manage to say as he looked around the dark room.

“Nothing we can do, at least not until the storm clears.” Terry peers out the dark window towards the generator out back, a thick layer of snow blocking his view. “We might as well go to bed. It’s already getting late as it is.” Daniel suggests. Clearing his throat as he gets up from his chair.

"I suppose you're right." Terry agreed, Disappointment evident in his tone. Terry watched intently as Daniel walked towards the bed, his body looking even more enticing in the candlelight.

A low groan escaped Terry’s throat as he watched the boy climb under the covers, his little shorts riding up to where his ass met his thigh. With a deep sigh, Daniel crawled under the covers, the cool air of the room making his skin crawl. He pulled the covers over his chest, his body trembling slightly as he tried to get comfortable, his mind still reeling from earlier. He yearned for the alphas touch, his scent… his knot. ‘No, snap out of it.’ Daniel scolded himself for thinking such things. He hadn’t allowed himself a heat after his last relationship. convincing himself that all alphas were the same and that it was better to be alone. Yet, he couldn't deny how good it felt to be taken care of again, to just let go of everything and have someone else take charge for a change.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he desperately tried to quiet his mind and fall asleep.

❆ ❆ ❆

Terry, unable to sleep despite his exhaustion, turned to face the bed where the sweet omega slept. His heart raced as he watched Daniel's chest rise and fall rhythmically under the thin layer of blanket as he slept soundly. God, he smelled heavenly. Now that his suppresents started to wear off, his scent configured into a sweet, fresh scent, unlike anything he’s smelled before. He imagined biting into his scent gland would be like biting into a ripe peach on a hot summer day.

It was easy enough hiding the boy’s suppresents In the cupboards when he was in the shower. He figured he would just slide them into Daniel’s car the next morning when he would help the omega look for the very thing he stole. Though, he seriously doubts they’ll be doing anything but making sweet love to eachother all day.

He could smell the Omega coming from a mile away, rubbing one out before Daniel even arrived. Anyone else, he would have sent them on their way, but not Daniel, He was even more gorgeous than he ever could have imagined - judging from scent alone.

His small stature and silky brown hair that just barely covered his wide, innocent brown eyes, had the Alpha weak in the knees. The second he stepped through the door, Terry knew he needed to have him, to claim him, consume his very being. There was no way in hell Terry would be going back home without the little Omega right next to him in his passenger seat.

That night Terry lay awake, listening to the sweet breathing and occasional sleepy moans of the unconscious omega, as he waited for his time to strike.

That’s when he smelled it: the undeniable scent of slick coating the bedsheets. His heat. The boy was still sound asleep when Terry sauntered over to the king sized bed. He tossed the blankets off of the writhing Omega, his body sticky with perspiration and cock straining in his little shorts as he weakly humped the pillow between his legs. His scent was intoxicating. Terry could feel himself grow hard in his pants at the sight. Still, he held himself back from devouring the boy right then and there, in fear of scaring the poor thing off.

Instead, he gently pushed a loose strand of sweaty bangs behind his ear. The Omega’s eyes shooting open at the slightest touch, whimpering at the realization of the situation. “T…Terry.” He weakly moaned. “I need…” He bent over the boy, “I know. I know exactly what you need, baby.” The sight of the omega was driving him wild, wanting nothing more than to make him his, to breed him and make sure everyone knows who he belongs to.

Terry's heart pounded in his chest, his desire for the boy, overwhelming. "You need it bad, don't you?” Daniel looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes as he nodded eagerly, bucking his hips up to try to gain friction.

Terry crawled into the bed in front of him, his impressive hard on poking out through his pants. Daniel’s breath coming in short gasps as he looked up into Terry’s eyes, silently pleading.

He couldn’t hold back any longer and forcefully pulled down the boys slick drenched shorts along with his shirt, bringing the articles of clothing to his nose and groaning at the smell. “open your legs for me." His voice was commanding yet gentle, and Daniel found himself obeying without hesitation.

As soon as Daniel opened his legs, Terry moved his head between them, Daniel’s slender thighs wrapped around his head. “Fuck." Terry hissed as he licked up the long line of slick leading to Daniel's entrance, his tongue darting out to taste him. He lapped at the slick fluid coating the boy’s entrance, groaning softly at the sweet taste. Daniel tries to hold himself up on his elbows in a desperate attempt to look at the man between his legs, but he's too far gone to move even an inch.

“You are so fucking sexy," Terry whispered as he pressed his lips to Daniel's inner thigh. He kissed a trail up towards his tight hole, breathing in the sweet scent of his arousal.

Daniel wailed, his fingers digging into the sheets as he felt Terry's hot breath against his sensitive flesh. Terry smirked against his sweat soaked skin, knowing he had the boy right where he wanted him. He teased Daniel's entrance with the tip of his tongue, his eyes closed in pleasure as he tasted Daniel's sweet nectar., eliciting a gasp from the younger boy. "Please, I need…” he gasped, interrupting himself as Terry’s tongue prodded even deeper.

Terry stopped his sweet torment, making Daniel cry out in defeat. His face glistening with slick, from his lips to his chin and dribbling down his neck. “Need what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need.” He caressed his trembling tummy, The noticeable difference between his fair complexion and Daniel's radiant, sun-kissed skin, which looked as if he had been baking in the sun for hours.

Daniel was too high on his heat to form words. “You need to feel me inside you, don't you? You wanna take my knot and let me breed you?" Terry growled, slipping a slick finger into Daniel's tight heat. He let out a strangled cry, arching off the bed. "Answer me, Danny.” Terry entire body is yearning and urging him to enter the awaiting omega already but a part of his brain is determined to make Daniel ask for it.

"Yes," he managed to whine, "I need your knot… oh god please. I need my Alpha!” He shamelessly yells.

“Then present for me.” Terry demands. Daniel flips onto his belly and pulls himself apart with both hands, slick gushing out of him with every ragged breath. Terry can’t help but groan at the sight,

“So beautiful." Terry praises as he steps off the bed momentarily to remove his clothes, fisting his throbbing member in preparation, a small knot starting to form at the base.

lining himself up behind Daniel, his large, throbbing cock pressed against the tight, slick entrance. He reached around to grasp Daniel's hips, pushing slowly but firmly inside. The heat and tightness enveloping him felt like nothing he had ever experienced, the boy beneath him whining helplessly as tears stained his rosy cheeks. “So perfect, just where an omega belongs.”

Daniel hid his face in the pillows - something Terry just couldn’t have. He pulled out just to flip the boy over onto his back forcefully. “Look at me." Terry ordered, his hand squeezing gently on the boy's hip. "I want to see that pretty face.”

He pushed himself to the hilt, becoming one sweet panting thing with the boy, leaning down to capture his lips in a messy, yet controlled kiss, His tongue slipping into Daniel's mouth, groaning into the kiss as he explored. His cock hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves that had Daniel gasping and writhing around his cock.

He felt the boy's mating gland pulse against his own skin. He pulled back from the kiss, only to connect his lips to the delicate line of his throat, making his way down to the very place he’d been fantasizing about sinking his teeth into. “N-not there.” Small hands push weakly at his chest, to no avail. His hands tightened on the boy's waist, holding him still.

In one swift movement, he bit down on his mating gland, feeling the sweet rush of pheromones into his system as Daniel cried out, arching into the bite. It was everything Terry imagined it to be: like biting into a ripe fruit, the juices blessing his pallet. It was like every drug he’s ever taken combined.

His teeth sank deeper into the flesh, feeling the blood pool into his mouth, lapping at the wound as an apology.

His hips stilled when he finally pushed his knot into the sweet thing. “You're mine now." He groaned, letting the boy get used to the stretch. A choked out sob pulled him out of his rut for a split second. “Shh… it’s ok baby. I got you.” He cradled his head in his hands, leaving peppered kisses all over his tear stained face.

his hips starting to move of their own accord now, pounding into the crying boy beneath him. Daniel hiccuped weakly as Terry pulled him into his own embrace.

He thrusted his hips one more time before burying himself in the Omega, his knot locking into place, pushing his seed deep into the boy beneath him and shooting deep into his womb, leaving him panting and sticky with sweat and love.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against Daniel's forehead as he pulled him close and turned them both over so he was laying on his back with Daniel on his chest, their flesh melding together as one. “Your mine. All mine.” They fell asleep like that: skin to skin, heart to heart.

[sublieu]

❧− It's a surprise to find out that you're all bark and no bite~ It's ok though, I don't mind a little shit talker~ <3

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐦 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬

cw.− squirting, dubcon, cunnilingus, [dominant reader] unconfirmed gender/non binary leading reader.

wc. − 746 words

ref. − ⚉ ⚆ ⚇

music. − Needed me / Rihanna

copyright. − "writing and quotes all belong to me, do not repost my content without permission." 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

S.Q groaned as she entered her quarters, taking off her crown and putting it on the table; Hearing your footsteps come downstairs and stopping right in front of her.

She smiles as you rush over to her for a hug, the dimly lit lanterns leaving a luminescent glow around you both whilst sharing a kiss, both your hands not wanting to let go of the other's body.

"Hey sugarplum~ Missed me~?" She coos as she placed a clawed nail under your chin, Her half-lidded eyes would stare down at your chest with need as the silver spider pendant would lay snuggly between your chest.

You nod and hug her gently, Basking yourself into her scent, her santal blush mixing oh so well with the iron smell of blood. It was strong but very comforting, her hands ruffling your hair with mere ignorance to what you wanted from her.

You went lower and lower until you were on your knees in front of her, S.Q was curious as to what you were doing until you hiked up her dress to her tummy and gently took off her panties; Looking at you with wide eyes, the green glow of her eyes would flicker as you kissed her clit before sucking on it, leaving her dazed and flustered from your ministrations.

Her legs were on either side of the couch's arms, A choked moan left her lips when your fingers would push themselves inside her; The pads rubbing on that gummy spot and making her shiver in ecstasy, her nails deep in your hair as she threw her head back. Even one of her slippers were daring to fall off her foot from the overstim you gave her.

Her moans were coarse and rugged from the excess screaming, only suppressed into grunt and groans to which you soaked up to even more whilst your nails dug into her supple thighs. Your fingers coercing her to whimper and whine for you to stop and give her a break, and yet you refused; As if punishing her for something she most likely didn't know about.

A coil in her abdomen was slowly starting to spring, yet she couldn't beg you to stop even if she wanted to; Her face darkened with her dark purple blush alongside her once neatly straightened hair a mess the more intense your tongue would press at her nub.

Vision slowly growing blurry the rougher your fingers pressed at her gummy walls, To anyone who hadn't heard her before will do now as your hands were forcing her to cum on your fingers. The once slowly sprung coil now growing harder and harder to bear whilst tears were dropping to her chin.

"Did my fingers cause this much distress my queen~? It's ok tell me~"

You purr against her ear, your chest colliding with each other in the process as she tries to speak. Only for her words to come out as simple babbling and utter nonsense her hands holding onto yours to get you to slow down, but if anything it only caused you to go rougher on her whilst kissing away her tears and ushering her to cum. Till she did just that, causing her vision to switch to black as she squirted all over your abdomen and legs; Cooing and praising her throughout the whole bit as you slowly rub her clit. Kissing her a final time and lifting her from the couch and into your bathroom to clean her up and put her to bed.

"Goodnight dear, do try not to go to work tomorrow alright?"

You whisper to her, she only nods and hides her face in your chest before slowly falling to sleep, with you right after.

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[yxkanna]

❛ there aren’t any pictures of me as a kid. ❜ (Vasile)

roight now what's all this then // @fairytaletold

SOME EARLY SPRING cleaning is underway in the Lee residence, ironic given how it's currently snowing outside. Nick sits on the floor in his living room, long legs folded beneath him, sifting through a box he'd found under his bed. Old, sentimental things that smell of dust are in here. Original copies of pictures, primarily, unsorted and probably not preserved as well as they should be. He's in some of them, a little thing, smiling, big eyed, evidently full of energy judging by the blur in some of the photos.

HE'S A DIFFERENT person now. Like, of course he is, compared to a two-year-old, but the kid was happy.

HIS STOMACH FEELS weird when he finds a picture of himself being held by his father, and so he passes the pictures back to Vasile, who's situated himself on the couch behind him. Nick leans back between his legs, fingering through ancient documents, pausing when the other speaks.

"I BET YOU were cute," he says, letting his head fall back to look at Vasile upside-down. "Do you show up in pictures?" He can't remember if that applies to half-vampires as well, or if it only matters when the pictures are being taken with silver halide, or if he's just stupid and completely wrong about everything.

[cleaningsilverspring]

Preserving Your Precious Pieces: The Importance Of Professional Rug Cleaning In Silver Spring

Rugs are often an important part of our homes and can be a valuable addition to any room. However, their condition and longevity depend on regular maintenance and proper cleaning.

Professional rug cleaning Silver Spring is essential for preserving these precious pieces from wear, dust, and stains that can accumulate over time.

This article will take a closer look at:

- Understanding rug materials

- Identifying common threats to their condition

- The professional difference in the rug cleaning process

- Scheduling your next cleaning appointment in Silver Spring.

Understanding Rug Materials: Why Professional Cleaning is Crucial for Longevity

Examining various materials used in rug construction, such as wool, silk, and synthetics, elucidates the importance of professional cleaning to ensure longevity and maintain the integrity of these materials.

A rug's material can respond differently to different cleaning methods, making it necessary to have a professional clean your precious pieces.

Professional cleaners like Prolific Steamers know how to properly care for each type of material, avoiding any damage that could be caused by home remedies or DIY cleaning attempts.

These experts understand the unique needs of each rug and are up-to-date on the latest techniques in safe and effective cleaning.

Utilizing their services provides peace of mind that your rugs will remain in top condition for years to come.

Rug cleaning Silver Spring is an investment worth making; with proper care and maintenance from professionals like Prolific Steamers, you can rest assured that your cherished pieces are being treated with respect and attention they deserve.

Identifying Common Threats to Your Rug's Condition: Stains, Dust, and Wear

Adverse conditions such as stains, dust and wear can be likened to a ticking time bomb, threatening the longevity of any rug; however, professional cleaning can help to neutralize these threats.

Stains caused by spills or pet accidents are a common factor in rug degradation. Left untreated, they can leave behind unsightly discoloration and odors that will make your rug look less attractive and inviting.

Dust accumulation is another threat to the quality of your rug; if left unchecked it can cause abrasions to the fibers that will eventually lead to premature wear.

Lastly, normal foot traffic with its dirt and debris can cause discoloration over time as well as matting of the fibers if left unchecked.

Fortunately, professional cleaners understand how to best address each of these issues using specialized techniques and equipment designed for each type of material. Depending on the specific needs of your rug, they may opt for steam cleaning or dry cleaning methods in order to restore it back to its original state without damaging the delicate fibers or ruining its colors.

Professional cleaning is an important step in keeping your precious pieces looking their best for years to come — so don’t hesitate when it comes time for some TLC!

The Professional Difference: An In-Depth Look at the Rug Cleaning Process in Silver Spring

For optimal longevity and aesthetic appeal, a comprehensive rug cleaning process should be employed to combat the damaging effects of stains, dust accumulation, and wear. Professional rug cleaners in Silver Spring use specialized techniques to ensure that your rugs look their best for years to come.

First, they’ll conduct an inspection of the piece to determine what sort of cleaning will be necessary before beginning the job. This may involve vacuuming or brushing off any surface dust particles that have accumulated over time and lightly spot-treating any areas with visible soiling.

Next, a professional deep-cleaning method is used on your rug depending on its material type and condition—this could be steam cleaning, immersion washing, dry cleaning, or shampooing. During this step, dirt and allergens trapped in the fibers are removed for a thorough clean.

Following this stage is an additional rinse which removes any remaining residue left behind from the cleanser used earlier in the process. Finally, once drying is complete—which can take anywhere from several hours to days depending on humidity levels—your freshly cleaned rug is ready for display!

Scheduling Your Rug Cleaning: How Often Should You Call in the Professionals in Silver Spring?

Maintaining a regular cleaning routine is essential for ensuring that rugs remain in optimal condition over time, and with the right approach, homeowners can maximize longevity and appearance.

In Silver Spring, professional rug cleaning services offer an invaluable resource for those wishing to preserve their precious pieces. The frequency of these cleanings depends on a variety of factors, including location, use, and material type.

For example, high-traffic areas will require more frequent attention than out-of-the-way locations. Additionally, if the rug is used frequently or exposed to dirt or spills it may need to be professionally cleaned more often than one that receives minimal contact or use.

Finally, different materials require varying levels of maintenance; wool rugs generally require steam cleaning every 12 months while synthetic fibers may only need to be serviced every 18 months. By taking into account these elements when scheduling professional rug cleanings in Silver Spring, homeowners can ensure that their carpets maintain their beauty and luster for years to come.

Conclusion

The importance of professional rug cleaning in Silver Spring cannot be overstated.

Studies have shown that regular rug cleaning can extend the life of a rug by up to five times, saving homeowners thousands of dollars on potential replacements.

Additionally, professional cleaning services remove allergens and pollutants from the home environment, making it a healthier place for families to live and thrive.

It is clear that investing in quality rug cleaning is an essential part of preserving your precious pieces and ensuring their longevity.

With the right care, rugs can be maintained for years to come, providing comfort and beauty to any space.

Prolific Steamers

Williamsburg Dr, Silver Spring, MD 20901

Phone: (410) 253-9940

[gluttonygirls]

GamerGirl600lbs donated $600! Just hit my goal weight! Wanted to thank you three for being such a huge inspirtation!

A trio of enormous girls sat around a table loaded with food, the camera rolling as they all stuffed their faces. Big as could be, they were dressed in little more than skintight suits, logos for various gaming and software companies stretched over their fat figures.

Looking up from the pizza she was tearing into, huffing as she choked down another slice, Silver Wolf gave a thumbs up. "Six hundred, huh? You gained all that just from watching us? Cool. Could probably aim to keep getting bigger, though?" Shifting her half ton bulk, seating creaking loudly under her massive ass, Silver Wolf scoffed. Six hundred pounds was pretty small to her, when her gut alone weighed that much. Patting her thigh, she smirked towards the camera. "Maybe try setting some real goals?"

"Hey, don't be mean." Sitting next to her on the custom made couch, stopping from licking her fingers clean of icing and frosting to address the whale. Bouncing her hip to the side, she sent Silver Wolf and herself jiggling, fat slapping against fat as the springs of the couch loudly protested. The logos on their bodies became unreadable as they jiggled, blubber bouncing from the impact. Pouting as she prodded Silver Wolf's belly with a messy finger, she continued. "You were that tiny once. Don't make fun of someone because they only just got chubby."

"Mmfff..." Ignoring as the other two started to bicker, Silver Wolf grabbing Chiaki's chest while the gamer shook the hacker's gut, Futaba just leaned into the camera. Stuffing the last of the calzone past her lips, wiping her face with the back of her hand, she giggled. "Don't mind them, they're just jealous of the competition~ I bet if you keep stuffing your face, you'll be on this couch with us before long~"

Blowing a kiss, Futaba snickered as she leaned back, letting the chat go wild at the bouncing and eating between the three of them.

And stream had only just started.

[narilily]

MERROCK TASK #19 THE TINIEST DETAILS

do they drive? if so, do they enjoy driving or do they hate it? or somewhere in between? Yes, but it's not something she would say she loves to do! More of a necessity to get from point A to point B. But Nari is a pretty decent driver, too.

if they drive, where is their favorite location to drive to? Nari likes the drive from her house into town and back. Especially if she takes a detour out along the coast.

if they drive, do they own a vehicle? if so, what make and model? A 2013 Toyota Prius v3. Silver colored!

what bumper stickers do they have on their car? Mostly flower bumper stickers, pretty things, a little sticker for the nursery and the pilates studio, and two little cat stickers in one of the back windows.

what paintings and/or posters are on their walls? Local art, always! Stuff she bought at the gallery in town, or things she's picked up at the thrift store or antique shop. A lot of shelves, too, with little bud vases or trinkets on them.

what is a song they listen to with the windows rolled down, turned all the way up, on the highway? Oh, there are so many songs! Anything by the icons, and by icons she means Michelle Branch, Britney Spears, Vanessa Carlton, Kt Tunstall, the usual.

is there an artform they’ve always wanted to try (glassblowing, woodworking, painting, ect) but never have? if so, what about that artform speaks to them? Nari is very much so the kind of person who will just try something if she wants to, which means she's given a lot of art forms a shot. It doesn't always mean that they've been successful, though!

what time of day do they usually start getting sleepy? Being much more of an early bird than night owl, Nari starts getting tired around eight, nine... she's normally in bed around ten if she's just at home alone. She can hang in public, though!

do they catch a second wind? if so, what is their method for catching it (napping, drinking coffee, exercising, ect)? Normally, she's good at knowing that if she's tired, she's tired, and pushing herself to get energy isn't going to help.

are they a nap person? if so, how long are their naps? do they set a 20 minute timer and wake up before it? or set no timer and wake up in the middle of the night? Occasionally! If it's a really lazy day with nothing else going on, she has no problem laying low and napping all afternoon, but... if she's going to set a timer, it's normally half an hour, tops. Unless she's exhausted.

what is the most obscure book they’ve read? Wicked Plants.

what is a book that interested them so much they took it with them to the bathroom? No books. Just fashion magazines.

what did the air smell like during their childhood? Admittedly, Nari doesn't remember a lot about growing up in South Korea, but she does remember what it was like to live in Merrock. She can very specifically remember the smell of flowers and her mother's cooking, plus the ocean, whenever they would head out to the coast.

what is a core memory from their childhood that they look back on fondly and for comfort? Picking wildflowers from the fields with her mother every spring, to make sure that the table always had the best centerpieces with every meal.

when was the last time they were held, and truly held, for several minutes? who was it with? Oh, it's definitely been a while! Might have been her mother, curled up on the couch watching movies when she was visiting last, though.

do they meditate? if not, have they ever tried? how did it go? Yes, regularly! Nari's a big believer in meditation and centering herself and deep breathing and all of those good things. She feels like she would be a bad yogi and pilates instructor if not.

how many pennies and quarters do they have in their couch? You know... she isn't really sure, but given that she uses cash a lot, there are probably quite a few coins tucked away in there.

how dusty is their home? spotless, lived-in, dust bunny haven? Lived-in, for sure! She keeps a clean home, but it's never like... museum-quality clean, that's kind of boring.

what is their favorite chocolate bar? Milky Way.

do they like their brownies fudgy or cakey? or not at all, and only want the crusts? Fudgy, maybe! The real question is whether or not they're iced, though.

what's that one weird food combination that everyone else thinks is gross but they think is delicious? It's not weird, but Nari eats her steak with french fries and dips it in ketchup and she understands that people think she's going to food hell for it.

where do they put their shoes when they come home from a long day? Major pro of living on her own? Nari can kick her shoes off and leave them wherever she wants. Who's going to stop her? Normally, they go right inside the door until she goes upstairs, though.

after a vacation, do they immediately unpack or slowly retrieve items from their suitcase until its empty? Unpack the important stuff (socks, underwear, bras), leave the rest in the suitcase until she needs it, and then wash it. Duh!

how often do they do self-reflection? Now and then, maybe a little more than the average person. Meditation and all!

are they more afraid of being alone with themselves or with others? Being alone with themselves.

have they ever had a near death experience? if so, what was it? No, not really.

out of all the subjects in school, which was their favorite? which one did they excel at? Art was very much so her favorite subject in school out of everything that she took! When it came to more of the education-based ones, like reading and writing and arithmetic, she probably would say that she was best at english and writing.

how many alarms do they have set on their phone? what is their alarm ringtone? Three. The first one tells her it's time to start getting up, the second one reminds her that she has an hour before work starts, and the third one better be going off when she's in the bathroom, getting ready.

do they fart in front of other people? or do they hide their farts? Ladies don't fart! (Just kidding, she is human.)

do they have to see any specialist doctors? if so, do they have a strong bond with their doctor or do they dislike them? Not really, no! Any doctors that Nari sees on a regular basis, she gets along with really well, though.

what is their favorite seasoning? Nari likes seasonings that are mixes that can cover pretty much anything? She's really not picky.

what is their favorite sauce? Gochujang sauce.

how spicy is spicy for them? (pepper, jalepeno, ghost pepper, ect) Nari's really not that fond of spicy food; it's less of something she can and cannot handle and more of the fact that she's an older lady now and gets heartburn.

how long do they let the dishes go unwashed? A couple of days, tops. Her kitchen's not huge, so if she sink starts getting cluttered, then everything ends up a mess.

how much laundry do they accumulate before doing it? Again, just a few days. She doesn't like having a super messy space, and worse than that, she doesn't like not being able to wear her favorite clothes because they're in the dirty clothes pile.

what shampoo, conditioner, cologne/perfume and deodorant do they use? Nari loves the True Botanicals brand for shampoo and conditioner, and thinks that anything made with plant extracts will always be right up her alley. For perfume, she tends to go with light, floral scents, and leans towards things like Nest Wild Poppy. She's really not picky with deodorant, but does go with the more natural, aluminum-free stuff.

[girlthing-to-live-for]

Something to live for

Chapter 3

The girl awoke to the clattering of plates and other utensils from the kitchen. It had been some time since the two had arrived at this village, at their home. The pull of the warm sheets kept her in place as she took in the smells around her. The smell of fried onions was wavering in through the half open door. The smell of the flowers, that were dotted around the room in small pots and that created a tiny ecosystem within these walls, made her feel connected to the spirits of Nature. But strongest of all was the smell of her, the smell of home, that still stuck to the blankets. The girl buried her small and petite slightly upturned button nose in the fabric and the resulting feelings gave her all the comfort she needed to drift off into the realm of dreams again.

They had changed each other. The girl now walked upright whenever they were alone, making her so tall the building almost couldn't contain her. She also smiled more and whenever she tended to their plants or sorted them into ever new corners she had both this air of excitement and calming sense of serenity about her. Of course her wounds were nowhere close to being fully healed and whenever her clumsiness broke a pot she'd become a sobbing ball of black feathers cowering under blankets, but it was progress. The wanderer in the meantime had stopped the wandering as she had found her place and the people of the village called her caretaker. She helped manage the community and kept things organized whilst building herself a purpose. But every day the thing the caretaker longed for most was to return to the girl, as soon as duty allowed it and to hold her in her arms, make sure that her wounds were healing and to bask in her divinity. Their life was turbulent but happy. 

The girl helped clean the dishes, but she still needed to take a break from time to time. This evening the village people would gather in the main hall to have a small spring celebration and the two of them had been invited as part of the community. Everyone had been asked to bring some food and after much deliberation the girl agreed to come along and to prepare a small bowl of guacamole. Meanwhile the caretaker had almost failed at creating a bread, which she envisioned to supplement the girl's dish. After they were done cleaning up the kitchen, the two of them cuddled up on the couch for a while. The girl had made herself very small in the caretaker's lap and she had burrowed her face in the soft but also stubbly skin of the other's neck, taking in all the sensations that gave her this feeling of comfort. The caretaker explained to her who all would be there and what they would do and what she should do if she felt insecure. It would be the first time the girl would join her at one of the festivities and she wanted her to have a good time. She also hoped that the girl would be able to talk to the others and maybe even be able to make some friends. 

Every head turned as they walked through the streets hand in hand and eyes of adoration were laid upon the girl. She had tied up her hair in a complicated manner that gave her a look of confidence and composure, but the caretaker could feel her grip tighten with every step. She stopped her and put her hands around the little girl and whispered words of affirmation into her ear. They were together, nothing could happen to them. The caretaker was rather invisible, her plain black dress paled in comparison to the elaborate outfit that highlighted the girl's beauty. She wore a short sleeved white and frilly blouse, a short dark skirt, long black gloves, silver rings that glowed in the moonlight and an intricate black necklace that contrasted well with her pearlescent white skin. Her height and wings gave her an incredible presence but the caretaker could still see the little girl she held in her arms a few hours ago. Together they stepped into the warm and cheerful environment of the main hall to join the festivities.

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[sashi-ya]

➡ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [𝐂𝐡.𝟏]

hi babes, so I wasn't planning on posting this fic here but since a lot of people have enjoyed my previous fic of him for the Under The Moon Event I told myself; why not? So here it is! I originally posted it on A03, so if you come from there thank u for visiting me here!

tw: smut, pure sinful smut with a tint of angst cause u know, emo captain with painful past and dead wife. Masturbation. Giving this beautiful man a bath. I did include the F! reader cause it's part of a series where the Lieutenant (IS NOT RENJI) is afab and f! so yeah. Tho this chap is pure GN! no mentions of gender whatsoever.

wc: 2k

masterlist

A03

Sweet eyes don't you look at anybody else, For you I am crazy, and to another world you take me, Let me look at you a little longer, so I can die in your eyes, oh in those glimmering eyes.

His silver scarf, Ginpaku Kazahana no Uzuginu, rests now over the little couch next to the bath. White fine haori with the number six falls from his shoulders to the floor, your soft hands slip the clothes off his body.

What a stressful day… isn’t it, Kuchiki Taichou?

The smell of sweet camellias and cherry blossoms fills up the place, the Kuchiki manor’s suite bathroom is as big as the rest of the barracks and it’s the perfect place for your captain to relax after a long day.

Drop by drop the bamboo tub fills with warm water. You have drizzled it with essential oils because what else could a noble deserve if not the best?

You also take his gloves off, one by one, pulling delicately. And while you brush your nails through his raven silky hair, you unclip his Kensaiken. Beautiful hairpiece that symbolizes his linage. His royal linage.

You have made sure your hands are soft and silky, caresses must be as subtle as the warm breeze of the spring that plays with the several sakura buds. It’s not that Kuchiki Byakuya is weak, no. It’s just the less you could do, he is like made of gold for you.

Your palms grazing against his pale skin feels like a blessing, for you, for him. Yet, his frown and icy stare never leaves his countenance.  “When will your winter end, Kuchiki Taichou?”

Lastly, his Shihakusho. The garment of dead Souls, his uniform. Last barrier in between your eyes to finally discover his nudity. Once again, another night.

Will Byakuya make love to you tonight? After your dedication, after your hands cleaning his body? He can’t, he says he can’t. He says he is not able. He says that he is not a man. But you don’t care, he is a man for you, nevertheless.

“Taichou, are you ready?” you whisper, untying the cord that holds his kimono around his waist. Byakuya widens his eyes, he is an intelligent man, and he knows that there is more than a meaning to that question.

“Mh…” he hums with a slow nod.

He stands up and follows you. As he walks the loosen sash allows the yukata to finally open. Pale, clean, lean. Perfect anatomy that you had only bathed and praised. But never enjoyed, but never tasted.

His collar bones are the only place where his Shihakusho is holding from, but soon it ends on the floor. You face him and your hand skilfully made the cloth fall. “As always, perfection is not enough to describe you, Byakuya-sama” you whisper, looking up, rejoicing on the sharpness of his jaw, on the sharpness of his steel eyes.

You swear you saw a tiny smirk on the commissure of his lips and driven by the impulse of your racing heart you dare to grab his hand. “Please, Kuchiki Taichou…” you guide him to the tub. First, his right leg. Then his left one. You avoid fixing your eyes on his core, you want to see, you want to indulge in such depiction of impurity. But you don’t. Not yet, not just yet.

He submerges half of his body into the lukewarm water that you prepared for him, he closes his eyes, and his frown slowly fades, though his lips never draw a smile.

And you don’t care, he wouldn’t let anybody else do this for him… it’s just you, just you. And that’s enough.-

You, as always, crawl inside the tub. Sitting behind him. When you are ready, he comes closer. Byakuya’s back rests on your chest and your arms snake around his waist. And your hands twitch… “Go lower” they say, “Slide them until his sex” they plead. But you wait, you just wait.

The intimacy of the moment… doesn’t it feel like making love? It does for you. And certainly, it does for him, too.

You trace paths from pec to pec with a sponge. You squeeze it, letting water drops imbued in oils drizzle his abs. The scents mix with his own, he has been training hard, you can tell. He doesn’t smell bad, not at all, it is indeed the ambrosial perfume of a man, of a strong man. You are tempted, so driven to kiss, to bite at least a patch of skin on the muscles of his neck. How long could you wait?

Byakuya exhales loudly when your hands slide down to his abs, he knows you aren’t gonna go any further but is that what he wants?

“Taichou, is this, ok?” you ask, placing your chin over his shoulder, whispering on his neck. “Y-yes” he mumbles, out of breath, maybe even suffering your unholy touch around his belly button. Byakuya feels like trembling, like his teeth wanna chatter…

You pull your hand out of the water and let the sponge aside. It’s time to rinse the soapiness off his skin. A little wooden cup serves perfectly to collect water and sprinkle it over him. He squirms as you do so, everything feels extremely sensitive for him, or maybe it’s just they way he is dying for you to go further.

But you won’t, not until he says so.

The same vase you used for rinsing his abs now works perfectly for his back, but mainly for his long hair. As the water falls over his head, he throws it back and his lips opens apart. Pale lips you are dying to kiss, to devour, lick.

Massaging his scalp, so slowly and lovingly, you rip a subtle moan from his throat. You have to take a moment to deal with how dizzy your head feels at this point, dizzy with heart pumping blood so strong into your ears.

“Please, Kuchiki Taichou…” you think, in pain. Sex in pain, core in pain.

Shivers run through your spine as he does so. Your hands squeeze his shoulder in a clear reaction of pure satisfaction to a single, so insignificant touch. But was it really insignificant? Not for that man, allowing himself to touch another woman is not the same as allowing other woman to touch him. That single touch was a statement. That touch told you to go on, it says “keep going, keep doing this”

Your right hand, as if it was moved by an invisible force, slides from under his arm to his stomach. It remains there lingering, but fighting against the need to touch, to feel. The bath is over, but none of you want to go outside. You want to stay; he wants you to stay.

You can feel his belly going so slowly up and down, sometimes taking deep breaths. You know those you make when you need to release some pressure building up, a type of pressure that both excites and strangles you.

Your cheek rests over his nape, little drops fall from his hair to your eyelids. “Byakuya-sama, thank you for this” you sincerely whisper, grazing one side of your lips against his flesh. He only hums, is not that he doesn’t want to speak, he simply can’t. An internal debate is going on inside his mind, his chest, his heart…

And you remain like this for what you think it’s eternity, and you wouldn’t care if it really was.

Outside, for the very first time in months rain started falling over the Seireitei. And the sound of the drops falling from the sky hit over the tin roof of the Kuchiki manor. It mixes with the sound of his breathing, with the sound of the little drops on the tub, the sound of both hearts beating so fast.

And they beat as fast as they can, because from now on there won’t be a way back. Byakuya’s hand has grabbed yours and slowly but surely, he makes it go down, down to where sin begins. You tremble as you feel the bumpiness of his muscles on a tight skin. The sharp edge of his pelvic bone, the depression of his femoral zone.

 You gasp as the water isn't as wet as the tip of his sex. "Byakuya-sama" you whisper, still unable to process you are really touching him. "I need-" he moans, stuttering, cutting his own words short because your fingers round his length. 

"What do you need, Taichou? Tell me, please" you urge, this time kissing his nape and then the crook of his neck. Byakuya doesn't answer. He can't articulate any words, he just whimpers and moans as you squeeze and concentrate your efforts on his gland. You want him to squirm, to burst. 

"It's ok; Kuchiki Taichou. It's ok. Just…" you tell him knowing too well this is the first time he is allowing another woman to touch him that’s not Hisana. You feel the increasing pulse of his carotid over your lips. And as his pulse increases because your hands’ rhythm does the same. Up and down, you go, while fingers tap, squeeze, play with his tip. 

He throws his head back, resting it over your shoulder. Your teeth now graze his sharp jaw, and your ears indulge in the sweet symphony of his accelerated breathing. His nails carve harder on your thigh, his eyes shut tight. Byakuya has fallen into the most beautiful trap of pleasure and ecstasy.

“I- please” he begs. What does he want? you don’t know. But you won’t stop, you won’t. Even if he loses control of his own body, you won’t.  “Taichou, what is it? Do you like this?” you ask, smirking, adoring his frown, that's not an icy one, no. His stare is pure pleasure, pure bliss. 

Water splashes at each side of the bathtub, and you're dying to see him splash too, you are dying to hear him moan as the bursting point inevitably reaches him. His mouth opens and closes several times, though no speech abandons his lips. 

“Say it, Byakuya-sama” you urge him, using one of your hands to squeeze his cheeks. His silver eyes suddenly open, severe sight fixed on yours. Glimmering eyes that make you wonder if you had gone way too far with your captain. You swallow, scared, stopping your hands motions but never letting go of his face. 

When Byakuya opens his mouth, and finally is able to verbalise something, he begs you… “Don’t…stop… (Name), please…”. You lick your teeth and the grin on your lips looks feral, maybe even demonic. “Very well, Captain” you moan in his ear, biting his earlobe and going back to the milking motions of your hands around his throbbing, so hard and so needy sex. 

Soon he begins to squirm, looking at the side with eyes fixed on yours, but who knows if he was really seeing anything. “Fuck” he grunts, as you can feel the pumping sensation of his sex while reaching climax. 

“Captain, I didn’t know you could swear like that” you tell him, biting your lip, probably because you are the first person to hear a noble like him spit a bad word. His eyelids fall sloppily over his starry eyes, and as he relaxes his jaw muscles, he smirks. 

He turns around, violently, suddenly, and unexpectedly. Of course, an orgasm won’t let the great Captain of the Sixth division out of battle. 

“Lieutenant… this mouth can say and do even worse things. And I’m gonna tell you exactly what will happen now” he utters with his low voice, a little raspier than ever. His nose grazes yours, and your back hits the walls of the tub. His presence, his reiatsu, his whole entirety crushes you. 

He slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up and sitting you over his lap. “I’m gonna fuck you until you lose consciousness, you know?” he whispers, licking your upper lip. 

To be continued ~

PART 2

[lullabylegends]

Valentine Special

Ignore that this is a day late

(Protective) Fezco x Lexi

Part 1/? 

cw: mention of smoking, mention of violence, injury, comfort- mostly

!!Possible spoilers, post season 2, episode 6!!

His vision was tinted in red. Lexi Howard was sitting on his couch, her long brunette curls hung forward to cover a swollen nose and a split lip.

Less than ten minutes ago, Fez was watching television while passively smoking when soft knocks on his front door caught his attention. At first, he thought it was Rue. It wasn’t her frantic, hyper banging, though. Fez opened the door and almost lost it when she looked up at him with trembling lips.

“Can I come in?”

He ushered her in, the soft kitchen light illuminated the blood on her shirt, still wet. His hand wanted to reach for her face, to comfort her.

“I didn’t know where to go.” Her voice wobbled. He got her a napkin for her bleeding nose. She accepted it, tenderly pinching her nose. Her free hand wiped on her skirt, fiddling with the hem. Her knuckles were red and smeared with blood- her or other, Fez didn’t know.

“Who did this to you?”

She blinked when he asked, like she hadn’t considered it. She made her way to his couch and folded her legs under her as she sat. He got another napkin and sat next to her, the old couch springs groaning.

“Nate came to pick up Cassie. She and Maddy got into a fight and she’s been having a hard time. I tried to stop her because she had a suitcase and Nate’s the reason they fought. Cassie freaked out on me.” Her hand gestured to her face and Fez’s head hurt.

He gingerly met her hand before she could drop it on her lap again. His thumb hovered over her bruised knuckles, his eyebrows knit together with concern.

“I didn’t just let her hit me.” She flexed her hand in his and he looked at her. Her soft brown eyes crinkled like she couldn’t decide if she was going to laugh or cry. A hiccup decided for her. “She’d never hit me before. Like yea, we’ve argued but…” Her voice caught in her throat and Fez felt a sharp sting of anger and burning pity. She pulled the bloody napkin away from her nose, patting the nostril before checking it on her finger. The blood had finally stopped pouring and was starting to dry.

Fez’s brain was spinning, fast. Words and thoughts spun around each other like the inside of a tornado, splashed in furious red. He wanted to talk but didn’t want all of his thoughts to tumble into the room. Lexi Howard didn’t deserve that. Lexi Howard deserved the world, and all of the beautiful things on it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He settled on, biting the inside of his cheek.

—

She was sitting on his bathroom sink, holding her hair back as Fez dabbed at the drying blood with a damp washcloth, careful not to put much pressure. She studied his face. He had gone quiet, an unreadable expression clouding his face. They had been sitting in silence, but here she felt safe. The silence with Fez was always comfortable- like they didn’t have to fill the dead air with meaningless conversation. Her eyes lingered on where his cotton shirt collar met his neck. The white fabric barely hid the beginning of tattoos, the ink’s edges winking at her as the shirt moved with him. His silver chain rested in the same area, standing out against his skin. Her hand rose and caught his wrist as he pulled away to toss away the rag. Fez dropped the rag, it landing on the sink next to her. His eyes were wide, like she had pulled him from deep thought.

     “I’m sorry.” She worried him, she could tell. His hands had shaken as he wiped her face. His eyebrows shot up.

     “Why are you sorry?”

She almost laughed at his confusion. He cared for her with such genuine intention, stuff she’d never felt from someone who wasn’t her mom, and even her mom… well. His wrist, still captured by her small hand, tensed as he reached forward, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her almost laugh died at his expression.

      “What are you thinking?” His eyes flickered from her face to her hands and back. His eyes were dark and stormy and it sucked the air out of her lungs.

     “I ain’t wanna scare you.” Simple, but the idea made her the hair on her arms stand up. He placed his hands on her waist and looked down at her. She looked up at him. With the blood gone, he could see that there was a cut on the bridge of her nose, which was slightly puffy with bruising. Her lip was swollen and cut, the bruising more prominent.

“Tell me anyway.”

—

His hands were shaking. Fez was holding her hips to hide it, but her warm skin under her skirt was soothing something in his brain. Lexi was the eye of the storm, silencing his whirlwind thoughts. He turned the thoughts over in his mind once more before her eyes burnt into him.

     “I’m fuckin’ pissed. I wanna put the person who hurt you in a fucking shallow grave. I wanna…” He bit his lip. Her hand ran up his arm, the skin kissed with freckles. “Anyone who ever hurts you is fucking dead.” He leaned his head on her slender shoulder.

      “But it’s my sister.”

“She shoulda never laid a hand on you.” Anger bubbled in his stomach. “You don’t… fuck. You don’t deserve that.” She wrapped her arms around him, her hands gripping his shirt. He clung to her like he was drifting afloat and she could bring him back. “It ain’t ever gonna happen again.” His whisper of a promise made her cling just ever so slightly tighter.