#marble soap tray | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mistydeyes · 1 year

Note

hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me."

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction.

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

1K notes · View notes

cerise-on-top · 8 months

Note

I just read "141 with an S/O who likes muscular people"

BUT! what if they have an S/O who loves to bake or loves cooking.

What if unit 141 follows a diet to keep those muscles and shape? Would they have the heart to tell their lover "no" when they offer some of the food/sweets they just make?

I think all of them would love your food a little too much to simply go on a diet, but some of them are more willing to say no than others! Besides, all of them would sometimes go to the gym together on their days off, just to catch up with each other and burn some unused energy! They're still some rowdy boys, even if Price doesn't always have the time to go to the gym with them!

TF141 with an S/O who Likes to Cook for Them

Price: While he may eat quite a lot, he doesn’t really eat very many desserts, so it’s not often he’d say yes to one of your delicious marble cakes. However, he can appreciate you cooking for him as much as you do. It’s lovely. He comes home from deployment, tired and hungry beyond compare, and there you usually are, making him the most delicious food imaginable, from simple spaghetti to roast pork. Whatever it is you make, he’ll eat it with a smile on his face. Though, from the get go, he’ll tell you that he doesn’t eat too many sweets. He’ll indulge in the occasional cookie, maybe eat a single, thin slice of pie, but that’s it. He’ll tell you no in a nice, polite and gentle way. Besides, considering how much he eats normally, it isn’t really surprising that there’s no space left for your delectable pain au chocolats. He will try something every once in a while, but he’ll usually say no, so staying fit isn’t really a concern for him in the first place. You’d need to continuously insist for him to eat your apple strudel for him to budge, but even then it’s just a tiny piece. He doesn’t particularly have a sweet tooth.

Gaz: He absolutely has a sweet tooth. There are phases where he will consume more croissants than what is probably healthy, and then there are phases where he won’t eat anything sweet at all, won’t even look at it. It all depends on how sick and tired he’s gotten of something like your macarons. Trust me, he will still eat your food like it’s his last meal, but will turn down any and all sweets you make. Gaz does go to the gym fairly often, to keep in shape and maybe grow just a bit stronger as well, despite being rather strong already. You suspect that he sometimes stops eating your sweets because he may have gained weight, but he never confirms or denies this, he just tells you that he needs a break. But, as mentioned already, he can never get enough of your food, even if he’s just eating normal portions for someone his size. That’s why there’s always room for dessert in his stomach. But sometimes he’s content with just eating a banana or a tangerine. It doesn’t always have to be processed sugar, even if he adores your mochis as well. He can cook very well himself, but if you’re always eager to cook for him, then he will simply help you out.

Ghost: Eats a lot, eats sweets every once in a while, it’s as simple as that. He loves you, so he will even eat more sweets just for you, even if he won’t usually eat them as often. Your food is the best out there, and so your cupcakes have a special place in his heart as well. While he won’t dig in whenever you make a batch, you can see him steal one or two from the tray when he thinks you aren’t looking and, for humor reasons, blames it on Soap, regardless of whether he was even here or not. While he may not be a fast eater, he likes to savor every bite of what you made, he eats a mountain of food. When he realizes he has put on some weight, he will call up Soap and Gaz and train with them until the weight is gone. While he has a hard time saying no to you, he tries his best to not eat too much French toast when you make it. He needs to stay fit as a lieutenant, and thus he will softly refuse, or simply eat way smaller portions of sweets than he normally would. But you’d need to pry your home-made ravioli from his cold, dead hands since he loves those so much.

Soap: As mentioned in another ask, this man can eat literal trash and he won’t put on weight, he was blessed genetically in that regard. Likes sweets a lot, so he has no shame about stealing some of your braided easter bread while it’s still cooling down. He can usually be found chewing something, when it’s not your food, it’s some gum he bought. He likes the feeling of having something in his mouth he can bite down on. While he doesn’t eat as much food as, say, Price, he actually prefers to steal the food from your plate, he eats about as many sweets as Gaz does during the prime of his sweet phases. Not per day, he doesn’t love apple cake and the likes that much, but it’s quite a lot. Fortunately, he does train all of it off by going to the gym whenever he can. He does take Gaz along with him during those times, Ghost sometimes as well. While he does goof around with Gaz when he can, he does take his training fairly seriously more often than not. You can make him just about any food and he’ll enjoy it, but he does prefer savory foods, such as roasted chicken. Don’t make his food too spicy, though. He’s very white and can’t eat it otherwise.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #these are a bit shorter today since I was really stressed out and for that I am incredibly sorry #had a long and rough day today but I tried my best!#they're not much shorter than what I usually write but still! again I am so sorry!#I'll try to do better tomorrow or next time depending on when I have the time to write again!#still! thank you for the request! I hope it's still enjoyable!

412 notes · View notes

missmimii · 2 months

Text

☕︎︎ －𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 | 𝐂 - 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Chris stumbles upon a bakery that holds much more than just a sweet treat, the one behind the counter being the sweetest of all that varies.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. none! Just tooth rotting fluff and a whole lot of a Chris’s terrible pick-up lines

✩－𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 • I thought of this yesterday when I was in a bakery near my house, saw the cutest interaction between the girl behind the counter and a customer ♥︎

୨ৎ － The sickening smell of cinnamon and icing sugar engulfs the triplet’s nose, as well as flour tickling his nostrils as the ceiling fan above swooshes the powder around the room. Squeak, his shoes emit as the rubber bottoms make contact with the freshly mopped floors of the bakery, a faint smell of almond floor cleaner entering his nose.

☕︎︎－ Chris felt some variant of comfort from the small bakery, a soft melody playing in the background of bustling that came from behind the counter. The glass that held an array of sweet treats was void of any fingerprints or skids, along with the sleek marble counter that held a sparkle from the sunlight coming in the window.

୨ৎ － Though his finger did itch to tap the bell aside the cash register, he didn’t want to come off as a nuisance. Was anyone even here? He pondered, gaze of curiosity tipping off into the back of the shop to catch a glimpse of anyone. Hm － he thought to himself, seeing nothing but a cloud of smoke that smelt of vanilla stream from one of the ovens.

☕︎︎ － Atop the oven sat a stained pair of pink oven mitts, before a hand reached out to lift them. Chris’s lips parted a little as the girl emerged from the other end of the kitchen, manicured hands slipping the mitts on her hand one at a time. “Talking about my girl －my girl,” She hummed softly to the music, pulling the oven open, revealing a medium sized baking tray.

୨ৎ －Assuming she’d felt the heat of Christopher’s gaze on her seemingly unflattering state, she slowly averted her own eyes to the cash. The girls eyes widened as she took in the sight of a brunette male, wondering just how long she left a customer waiting. God, her boss would’ve ripped her a new one if he’d saw. “Uhm－one second mister!” She hollered in the direction of the man, feeling rather rattled while rushing to arrange her messy kitchen.

☕︎︎ －The mouth watering aroma of vanilla and cinnamon infused the whole bakery as she gently plopped the metal sheet atop the oven, tossing the pink mitts onto the counter beside. If he had been else Chris would thought the delightful smell was a candle, just from how surreally perfect it’d smelled.

୨ৎ －The boy that was once drawn to the little shop out of feigning something pure sugar, now found himself craving something rather beautiful. Chipped red nailed hands dip into the running water as she gathered suds of soap across her hands. Tap, tap, tap. Chris watched with admiration as droplets fell from her skin as she flicked the faucet off, swiftly pulling the hand towel off the hook to dry her wet hands.

☕︎︎－ Dozens of baking ingredients were aligned upon the surfaces on counters, flour and drizzles of frosting covering almost every inch of the area. The triplet’s lips fell up into a small smile of muse as he watched the girl struggle to push the stray hairs framing her face away, refusing to use her clean hands. Goodness, how he wanted to gently tuck the feathering strands behind her ears.

୨ৎ － Chris opened his mouth to let the stressed girl know he was in no rush, but was cut off at the sound of a wince. “Ouch,” the sound of a feminine hiss echoed from behind the store, making his eyebrows fly up with both concern and confusion. Was she .. a head popped from behind a corner, a sheepish look on the timid girl’s face as she looked at Chris. “so sorry.” She winced, before she disappeared once again.

☕︎︎ － “Ouch, ouch, ouch － ow,” The pained girl fumbled with the tap until it turned cold, sticking her left hand under the running rush of water. Ah － Her shoulders fell at the contact, the cold sensation soothing the burning pain on the end of her index finger. Never once has she burnt herself in the three years she’s worked in a bakery. She just shook her head incredulously, flicking the water off.

୨ৎ －Chris’s face was still coated in perplexity when she’d finally rushed from kitchen, his hand that he’d been running across his jaw halting in place as she threw him a warm smile. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s usually so slow on Sundays － and I must’ve not heard the bell ring when you walked in because of the hand mixer.” She rambled, hands waving around has she expressed her sorrow.

☕︎︎ － “Your hand,” He interrupted, making the girl’s eyes meet his. Her hand .. what?－ “I don’t think I- oh.” She let out a small sound as the males hand hesitantly prompted to grab hers, the warmth of his palm pressing against her wrist as he turned her hand over. “Yeah.. it happens often.” Chris’s hooded gaze lifted from her pink finger, meeting her eyes. Liar, he thought to himself. “hm,” Obviously not being willing to express the fact he knew the falsified confession, he withdrew his touch.

୨ৎ － She cleared her throat, lowering her injured hand to her side. “Did my bad work ethic allow you enough time to choose something?” She half joked, cheeks warming as he chuckled. “Nothing here,” Chris admitted, nipping at his lip as he flicked his gaze down to the various baked goods. “though I did spot something quite delicious behind the counter.”

☕︎︎ －She blinked at him while processing the information, feeling her lips twitch with a small smile as she saw the flirtatious grin placed upon his lips. “Oh.” Chris hummed, lifting an eyebrow. “The rolls.” Huh? Chris watched as she nodded in understanding. Rolls? “I just put a batch in before you walked in － whenever that was.” She murmured to herself, shaking her head softly.

୨ৎ － “uh-” Just as she turned her back to go fetch the goods, the boy spoke again. “What ‘rolls’?” Her eyebrows knitted together with confusion before she answered. “Cinnamon rolls.” She said in a matter of fact tone, turning back around. She smiled to herself as she walked back through the arched doorway, finding the way Chris’s eyes light up almost cute. Cinnamon rolls did sound good..

☕︎︎ －He stood there patiently as she shuffled around in the kitchen, bending his neck a bit to catch sight of something she was getting into. Chris made a sound of amusement as she vigorously whisked together something in a metal mixing bowl, splatters of a cream white icing hitting the cylinder sides as she stirred. Did she really not get my pick up? Chris felt slightly defeated, having thought that the flirty sentence had been quite smart of him.

୨ৎ －Chris quickly stood upright, attempting to hide the clear fact he was peering into the girls kitchen, as she gleefully stalked back into the main room. “It’s a little warm still, so the frosting might seep into the cake a teensey bit.” She fiddled with a striped pink box, sheet of clear plastic cut out in the middle showing a glimpse of the fluffy golden brown roll. Steam glazed the clear part over, the treat having been freshly baked. Chris’s mouth practically watered as he watched the icing slowly slide down the sides of the roll, creating a delicious puddle of sugar below the bun.

☕︎︎ －Her pink tipped fingernails gently tied a pink ribbon around the the box before softly nudging it across the counter to the boy. His eyes slipped up to hers, finding her leaning on the edge of the island while staring at his reaction, her bottom lip tucked lusciously between her teeth. Holy － was my heart pounding so damn hard because of the nauseating scent of sugar, or the sight of this unworldly woman? “Well now I feel bad undoing something so pretty, baby.” Her heart exploded, butterflies pressing against her gut at the pet name.

୨ৎ －Chris gently tugged at the silk ribbon, the thin piece of fabric falling from the box, his fingers unfolding the opening at the top. “Hm~” She watched with curiosity as he hummed in delight, the cloud of steam that flooded from the box engulfing his nose. Vanilla, cinnamon, brown sugar, butter － as well as the slight hint of the cream perfume coming from the girl across. Shakily lifting the treat from the box, being cautious not to drop it, he brought it to his lips.

☕︎︎ －Oh god － Christopher’s eyes had slowly slipped shut as soon as his teeth sunk into the soft baked good, moaning oh so softly as the sweetness set off every tastebud on his tongue into a frenzy. “Holy fuck.” He muttered, savouring the taste of a whipped like vanilla frosting swirling around his mouth as he chewed. Chris finally allowed his eyes to peek open, his gaze automatically focused on her.

୨ৎ －He watched with intent as her lips parted, tongue sliding across her bottom one as she looked between his lips and blue eyes. The muscles in his jaw clenched with every chew, eyelashes batting admirably against his flushed cheeks as he brought the tip of his middle finger to his lips. Chris looked into her eyes with desire while dipping the end of his finger into his lips, swirling his tongue around the skin to gather the sugary liquid.

☕︎︎－With a small plop, he placed the treat back into box, all while keeping his eyes on her. “You’ make that?” He asked, tilting his head while peeking his tongue to lick the corner of his mouth. God he could still taste that fucking frosting. At her timid nod, he felt his lips curve up at the corners. “It almost curbed all of my cravings.” Chris shamelessly admitted.

୨ৎ －She felt her breath get caught in her throat as she heard the husk in his tone, the two hands she hand placed on the marble counter squeezing around the surface tightly. Chris effortlessly twisted the cap from his water bottle before tipping back the refreshing liquid with content. “Sweet, huh?” She laughed softly, hair getting caught on her eyelashes as she looked down for a moment.

☕︎︎－Chris felt his lips tip up around the cap as he pulled the bottle away, breathing out a soft laugh at her words. “Very,” her cheeks flushed, giggling softly. She’s so .. effortlessly perfect, Chris thought to himself, tilting his head as he look across to the girl. “not nearly as sweet as you though.” Oh－her eyes widened.

୨ৎ －Maybe it’s because she’d never got hit on during work －or at all for that matter, but she found herself dumbfounded by his bold flirting. Because he was flirting .. right? She suddenly felt unsure of his motives, clearing her throat as she sent a quick smile his way. “Thank you- really.” She impulsively added the last part as a whisper, her fingers raising the brush away the hairs in her face, before stopping. Ah －I need to wash my hands.

☕︎︎ －She jumped, startled as two calloused fingers brushed the irritating flyaways from her face. “here,” Chris murmured gently, looking into her eyes with a unknown emotion as he tucked the tendrils behind her pierced ears. “Oh.” She breathed out, the smile that gleamed across her lips unable to be fought. “thank you.” She uttered.

୨ৎ －Chris nodded softly, leaving a prolonged beat before he stepped back from her. He cleared his throat, cheeks warming as he felt the aftermath of his action’s overcome him. Was that too bold? I could’ve made her uncomfortable. “Well ..” The girl’s eyes flicked up to his at the sound. “Can I get your name or somethin’? To remember you of course.” Chris quickly added on, seeing her eyebrows fly up.

☕︎︎ －She silently nipped at her lips for a second as she resisted the temptation to allow a grin to spread across her lips. “Hm..” He lifts a brow as she drawled out the sound, her hand toying with the ribbon from his box. Within seconds his eyes widened, her hand reaching out and entrapping his own.

୨ৎ －She leaned forward, belly resting on the island as she took his wrist into her palm. Chris opted to stay quiet, feeling a little too happy with the feeling of her touch. Her fingers skillfully threaded the pink ribbon around his wrist, gently pulling the two ends to finish off her signature bow. “There,” he looked down at her, seeing her big smile as she finished the work. “try forgetting me now.”

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #writers on tumblr #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #Christophersturniolo

303 notes · View notes

ghostheartfelt · 1 year

Note

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another.

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives.

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours.

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest.

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat.

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.”

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart.

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver.

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes.

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours.

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this.

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home.

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.”

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days.

All you do is work, eat, and sleep.

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably.

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell.

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you.

“There’s someone else.” His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off.

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog.

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up.

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately.

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now.

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face.

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you.

You just wanted him home.

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore.

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind.

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away.

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest.

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door.

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water.

She’s showering.

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside.

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice.

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs.

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation.

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine.

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table.

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly.

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs.

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles.

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs.

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice.

“Does wh–”

“Does she know you are here, Simon.”

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together.

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern.

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed.

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains.

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head.

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance.

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…”

“Please…never do that again.”

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs.

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent.

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt.

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed.

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud.

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?”

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you.

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you.

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger.

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck.

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin.

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.”

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists.

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…”

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.”

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.”

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you.

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.”

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs.

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him.

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…”

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind.

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?”

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.”

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge.

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted.

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…”

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion.

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.

#ghostheartfelt #ghostheartfelt writing #simon ghost x reader #mw2 smut #ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghostheartfelt ;; 👻#ghostheartfelt writing ;; 👻

712 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 1 month

Text

Big Kitty and the Ducks - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Going for a straightforward title today.

Anyway, a couple months ago, when I visited my family, someone brought miniature ducks and hid them everywhere, so my brother and I had fun finding and re-hiding them. It got kinda silly but that's the inspiration for this nonsense.

Premise: Ducks are infesting the school and Leona's not thrilled

Words: 1,314

~~~~~

Duck.

Duck…

…Duck

…

Duck.

Goddammit.

Huffing, the lion turns his gaze away from the front of the class to the windowsill. It takes all of a single second to spot the little round body and bright orange beak basking in the sunlight.

Duck.

What the fuck?!

There’s been a wild phenomenon emerging at Night Raven College in the form of water fowls the size of marbles. These miniscule birds have been popping up literally everywhere. Light switch: duck. Commons potted plant: duck. Potion vial: duck. Spelldrive goal: duck. Ceiling: duck. Duck duck duck! Hell, he even found a duck in the soap dispenser in the bathroom.

And the whole damn school was fascinated.

It started out with a handful of birds being found around the campus. Students laughed and collected them, but then more appeared the following day and then the next. Soon, it became a whole thing that ducks found were to be documented on magicam and relocated to another, equally ridiculous location.

Yet while the rest of the school seemed fascinated by their sudden arrival, Leona is getting sick of seeing the little, yellow demons. Even his usually blunt, brutish dorm were enjoying the duck hunt. He can’t even begin to count the number he’s spotted in his dorm alone and it’s annoying.

“Yo, Leona.”

As class lets out, Leona finds his gold-digging hyena waiting for him in the cafeteria. The underclassman places a tray on a table, having already obtained the lion’s lunch for him.

“How’d history go? Get a decent grade on that exam?”

A fork stabs at the cut of beef. “If yer looking for next year’s answers, forget it. Trein didn’t let us keep the graded copies.”

“Damn,” he sighs. “I didn’t really expect the exams to be the same, but an old exam would’ve been good study material.”

“Sounds like more hassle collecting old assignments than just doing the work.”

“You’d be surprised. Some of your second-year assignments are the exact same as this year’s.” The sophomore’s smug demeanor turns suddenly distracted. “Oh look, a duck!”

With a toothy grin, Ruggie plucks the trinket from the table center piece. As he does, he apparently notices Leona’s annoyance and offers his finding.

“What? You wanna take ‘im?”

“Get that stupid thing away from me,” Leona growls back.

“Ooo, spicy. Shishishishi.” He earns a glare. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it, but I didn’t think you’d care enough to hate it.”

There’s a pause. Then another laugh escapes the younger student.

“Especially for a guy who has one in his hair.”

Leona’s eyes widen, his mouth pursing to contain the shock and fury. He’s lying—Ruggie must be lying.

With that devious smirk, the second year gently tugs at one of his housewarden’s braids. There, wrapped into his hair with his hairtie, is one of those stupid, yellow, unassuming, miniature, goddamn ducks.

Exhaling all his indignant fury, Leona rises. Not another word leaves his clenched jaw as he promptly leaves, ignoring all questions. From the cafeteria the lion stalks, in search of the one single individual who could’ve done this. Other students quickly clock in to the dark aura and provide a wide berth on his path. His rage leads Leona from the main building of the college down to the little rundown dorm tucked neatly in the shadows of the castle. A swift kick slams open the front door but no one is there to greet him. At least not until half of the dorm’s residents come rushing in from the kitchen.

“Leona? What’s wrong?”

“C’mere,” he demands, closing the gap himself.

The Ramshackle prefect goes tense at his quick approach. A hasty hand takes hold of that adorable face, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of the cheeks.

Low, dark, Leona’s voice rumbles. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

The response is somewhat muffled. “Huh?”

“You did this—you started this stupid duck thing, didn’t you.”

Recognition sparks. “How did you find out?”

Eyes narrowing, Leona shows the figure wrapped up in his hair. A smile works across warped lips. Despite Leona’s ire, the prefect giggles, thoroughly pleased with the ordeal.

“Where the hell did you even get that many ducks?” he snaps, not even bothering to ask why

this whole thing even started to begin with.

“Sam.”

Of course it was Sam.

“You menace.” With a growl, Leona pushes the magicless student back a step. “Now fix it.”

Eyes roll, smile still intact, while the student motions towards the sofa. The grumpy lion flops onto the couch, his head falling into the lap of the offender, as had occurred some few times before.

Fingers play with the end of the braid. “I wondered when you would notice.”

Huffing, Leona elects not to engage in this line of conversation.

“It’s only been there a week.”

Eyes snap open, his body goes rigid, lips purse, and ears flatten. There’s no way he went a whole week with this damn bird tied into his hair, mocking his disdain for the frivolity. That giggle burns in his ears for more reasons than one.

“I found this giant bag of little ducks at Sam’s a couple weeks ago. At first, I was just using them to bug the other first years, but I didn’t expect the whole school to get in on it. You should’ve seen Sebek’s face when he found one stuck to Hornton’s horn. Of course, I asked first and he was happy to be part of the fun, but man was Sebek mad. And Ace freaking biffed it when he spotted the one I stuck to the basketball hoop. That was funny. And—”

As the prefect prattles on about misadventures, Leona feels all the tension seeping from his muscles. Yes, the ducks were still stupid and, yes, they infested the school like locusts, but it was harmless after all.

And it made the prefect happy.

“And oh my gosh, I think it was Jade who managed to put one on Crowley’s hat! It’s been there for like a month and—”

“Hey.”

Leona’s interruption silences the freshman.

“You done yet?”

“Oh, one sec.” The end of the braid is tied with the golden tie. “There.”

Before he can sit up, the prefect reaches down, placing the damned bird on his chest, staring him down with its stupid, unblinking eyes. Sneering, Leona swats the plastic from his shirt and sits up. It clatters across the floor, making its way somewhere beneath the coffee table.

“Aww. Oh well. Guess Grim will get to find that one.”

Leona’s nose scrunches at some pungent scent wafting in. “What’re you burning?”

“THE COOKIES!”

The prefect could almost apply for the track and field club for the speed used to rush back to the kitchen.

Now on his own, Leona simply sits in the Ramshackle commons, his thoughts slowly wandering beneath the table. A string of curses slips his lips as he gets to the floor, feeling around under the table until he finds the figure. He scrutinizes the trinket in his fingers before his gaze begins scouring the room. The chandelier finally holds his gaze long enough for a quirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.

With a steady hand and careful concentration, the flightless bird levitates its way to its new nest on the light fixture. Surely, it’ll be weeks before anyone finds it there.

The lion’s admiration is snapped by the return of the prefect.

“Good news! I saved them!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be having lunch?”

“Hey, do you want a cookie or not?”

A brow quirks but Leona accepts a treat from the offered plate. “Might as well. It’s your fault I’m missing lunch.”

“Huh?”

“Nothin’.” Turning on heel, he heads for the door.

“Wait! What did you say?!”

His back to the prefect, Leona smirks to himself.

“That furball’s never gonna find that duck.”

~~~~~

Just some pics of our fun we had

#gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #hid one on the dog #he kept it safe for two weeks

54 notes · View notes

simstorian-blog · 2 months

Text

New York City: ONE

(CC List + Links)

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Spice Market – Old Salt House

Lot Size: 30 x 30

Capacity:

4 Apartments: 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, washer/dryer per unit

1 Townhouse: 4 Bedroom Suites, 6 Baths, 2 Half Baths, A Sauna, Indoor Pool, Gym, Office Space, Entertainment/Hosting Floor

Shared Areas: Café, Game Room, Laundromat (non-functional), Press Conference Room, Security Booth

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

City Living

Discover University

Eco Lifestyle

For Rent

Get Famous

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Jungle Adventures

Spa Day

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Packs

Laundry Day

Kits

Cozy Bistro

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

City Vibes Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots

Build Mode

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 2 (Doors, Ionic Column)

Chateau Pt. 2 (Marble Tiles, Stone Stairs)

Colonial Pt. 3 (Column 1, Fence 2, Railing 2, Spandrel 1)

Georgian (Arches, Doors)

Gothic Revival (Pilaster 4m, Socket, Trim 1)

Paris Pt. 2 (Bar, Bistro Table, Counter, Espresso Bar, Glass Display, Island, Paneling 3 Tiles, Stone Wall, Window Decal)

Soho Pt. 2

Soho Pt. 3

Soho Pt. 4

Versailles

Harlix

Kichen (Fresco Wall)

Tiny Twavellers (Trim Wall)

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 2 (Traditional Items, Stone Wall)

Brownstone Pt. 3 (Wallpapers)

Klean Pt. 2

Klean Pt. 3 (Plaster Window Frame Large)

Hey Brine

Indonis Bathroom (Penny Floor & Wall Tiles)

Joyce

Summer Garden (Floor Tiles)

Lili’s Palace

Folklore (Smoky Kitchen Wall)

Intarsia (Polished Marble Floor + Florence Fresco Add-ons)

Lijoue

A Louer Collection (Apt Mailboxes, Door, Intercom, Iron Fence, Railing, Stone Stairs)

Peacemaker

Multi-Level Carpet

Pierisim

Combles (Module Medium 2, Paneling Middle)

Sooky88

Victorian Tiled Flooring

Syboubou

Industrial Elevators (This Mesh Needed)

Buy Mode

AroundTheSims4

Laundromat (Chariot, Folding Table - Metallic, Seating x3, Laundromat Sign, Soap Machine)

CharlyPancakes

Lavish (Wardrobe Pieces)

Lighthouse Collection (3-Seater Sofa)

Felixandre

Chateau Pt. 4 (Fridge, Cabinets, Counters, Sink)

Chateau Pt. 5 (Bookshelf V2 – Medium)

Grove Pt. 2 (Timber Shelves)

Flirtyghoul

Lavanderia (Note: Non-functional)

Harlix

Bafroom (All Wall Mirrors)

Baysic Bathroom (Shower Wall, Toilet Roll)

Orjanic Pt. 2 (Medium Curtain + Rod)

Harrie

Brutalist Bathroom

Coastal Pt. 3 (Marble Kitchen Sink)

Coastal Pt. 6 (Bathtub, Landscape Mirror, Shower, Toilet)

Spoons Pt. 2 (Cake Boards, Pastry Display Platter)

Meinkatz

Light Fixture (DL on Patreon)

Thermostat

Pierisim

Coldbrew Pt. 2 (Books, Menu, Napkins)

Coldbrew Pt. 3

Oak House Pt. 4 (Bathtub, Shower, Towel Holder, Wall Hanging Light)

Woodland Ranch (Dining Chair 1 + 2)

Ravasheen

Thermostat

Tuds

SHKR

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

#simstorian #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #cc #sims 4 build #build #san myshuno #new york city #new york #nyc #manhattan #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 community

51 notes · View notes

imagine-darksiders · 2 years

Text

Bowser x Reader - chapter 2.

Rose Soap.

Contains whump.

Read the full story here, on Ao3.

------

“Can't believe you'd...--- Mph... Why'd you have to go an'.. Hrnf...”

He's grumbling to himself again, his eyes fixed with deadly concentration on the path ahead. Apparently, he's also content to remain oblivious to your attempts at leaning as far away from his expansive chest as his grip will allow.

All the way back through the castle, he mutters and huffs whilst you glare at any passing koopas who brazenly stare back at you, their eyes on stalks. You're more than happy to let them think the liquid running down your cheeks is merely rainwater that trickles off your hair line.

Worse perhaps than the pain in your ankle is the sheer humiliation of being caught like this.

As hallways and spiralling staircases pass by, you begin to wonder where the simmering king is taking you.

Probably to his dungeons.

Somewhere he can chain you to a wall and leave you there to teach you a lesson.

Fine by you. This isn't the first time you've been held hostage. He'll find you can bend very far indeed before you break.

If it means he stops trying to bother you every hour god sends, a dungeon might actually be worth the downgrade.

You have to admit, the very last place you expect to end up is right back to the bedroom you'd just escaped from, but that's precisely where Bowser carries you, and your heart sinks at the sight of those enormous, wooden doors looming into view as he stalks down the long hallway.

“You there!” the King suddenly barks.

Heart lurching, you jump viscerally in his arms before you realise his glare is aimed at an unfortunate koopa guard who stands quivering at the end of the hall, “Go fetch Kamek. Tell 'im it's urgent.”

Quick as a flash, the guard snaps a hand up to his forehead in salute. “Uh y-yessir, Lord Bowser, sir!” he squeaks. And with that, he's off, scrambling around the corner as if someone lit a fire under his heels.

Heaving out a dismissive grunt, Bowser shoulders open the doors, ever mindful that they don't knock against your foot as he manoeuvres you both into the bedroom beyond and immediately makes a bee-line for the ensuite bathroom.

With your torso twisted away from his chest, you cast a bitter glare at the window and the bedsheets still hanging out of them before your eyes are drawn to a mess on the the floor - one that hadn't been of your own making.

A metal tray lays abandoned on the marble, and all around it are remnants of shattered ceramics, a bowl and a plate, whose contents have also spilled across the floor in every direction, as if dropped in a hurry. There's even an orange puddle of what you presume to be tomato soup splattered near the bed.

Bowser simply steps right over what's left of your dinner and bustles hurriedly into the bathroom, where, with an unexpected gentleness, he lowers you down onto the closed lid of the toilet.

Despite your chattering teeth and the comparatively warm hide you've been pressed against, you're all too eager to shove yourself away from him the moment he pulls back, shooting him a frosty glare.

His response is to chuff brusquely through his nostrils and turn to the bathtub, giving you a glimpse of his mud-spattered underbelly. Scales that had once been a pale, eye-catching yellow are now brown and grubby, hidden beneath the dirt.

Leaning over the tub, he fumbles awkwardly with hands that should be far too large to operate the crystal taps. But after another moment, two noisy streams of water start to glug forth, spilling into the bottom of the pearly basin.

The bath is enormous, more than large enough to accommodate such a vast creature. But you wish he'd go and bathe in his own room instead. Perhaps he's a finicky koopa and can't wait to go to his bath, electing to use yours instead.

Haltingly, your eyes drift towards the door that Bowser had left slightly ajar, giving you a glimpse out into the bedroom beyond.

As if he can read your mind, he promptly swings his tail out at the it and slams it shut.

You can't help but flinch at the abrupt sound.

Silently, you observe the giant koopa as he pushes himself away from the bath and backs up until his shell's spikes hit the door with a thud, then, he promptly slides down it onto his backside, scraping some of the paint off its wood and blowing a weary sigh out of his parted maw.

Frankly, you think it's overkill for him to bodily guard your only exit. It isn't as if you're going anywhere fast on this ankle.

For some time, the only sound that sits between you both is from the water gushing out of the taps.

You watch your captor for any sign of hostility, while he watches the opposite wall, his expression set in a rigid and pensive frown that casts his eyes in the shadow of his furrowed brows.

You expect to sit in this prolonged and uncomfortable silence without a word passing between you, but hardly a minute goes by before Bowser shifts, turning his massive head a few degrees in your direction, just enough that you know he can see you from the corner of an eye.

“Why'd you do it?” he murmurs.

One of your eyebrows gradually makes its trek up your forehead.

The kidnapper asking the kidnapped why she tried to escape... What a question.

Perhaps you're getting too bold, because you dare to give the side of his jaw a hard look, crossing one mud-slaked arm over the other. “I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific,” you intone slowly, “I've had a rather busy evening.”

The king's muzzle curls slightly, showing off more of his gleaming fangs. A warning.

“Why'd you jump?” he snaps, “That was stupid. You were stupid.”

Scared him half to death.

Pain flares in your ankle as if in direct concurrence with Bowser's words, and you find your fuse just a few inches shorter than it usually is.

“I was scared,” you hit back, missing the way his tail flinches towards his thigh, “I'm still scared. I jumped because the alternative was – is – going back to being your prisoner!”

You must have said something profoundly unpalatable because the koopa's head snaps towards you properly, fast enough that you're almost startled you off the toilet seat.

“Prisoner?” he has the gall to scoff, “You ain't no prisoner. You're a guest.”

Now that you will not accept.

“A guest,” you repeat sharply, “A guest who has guards posted outside the door? A guest who can never leave?”

“W-well, I...” You have him on the back-foot, and you know it by the sparking embers that scatter from his nostrils when he exhales and throws a meaty arm out at you, sputtering, “Well - Look at what happens when you do leave!”

At once, your head twitches to the side, eyebrows shooting up to level him with a wide-eyed, unblinking glare that borders on dangerous.

You don't expect a reaction from the oversized koopa. You certainly don't expect it when his lips press back together, hiding his fangs as he ducks, suddenly finding the bathroom tiles of particular interest. Far more interesting, apparently, than your gaze.

Well... Now that he knows exactly what you thought of that little remark...

“The bath is about to overflow.”

You never would have guessed that such a mundane statement could send a koopa his size scrambling to get his feet underneath such a hefty bulk.

“Dammit!” he hisses throwing his hands to the taps and spinning them frantically until the flow finally trickles to a stop with the water mere centimetres from the lip of the tub.

You watch him grumble under his breath, something highly impolite no doubt, before he plunges one of his enormous hands into the water and grabs the plug, yanking it out to let some of the bath drain.

Silence hangs heavily over the bathroom again.

“There,” he promptly declares, shoving the plug back once the tub is no longer in danger of overflowing, “Should be warm enough for you.”

You're suddenly taken aback, darting a glance between the bath and Bowser.

Perhaps in hindsight, it should have been obvious, but blinded as you are by a bone-deep chill and the pain in your ankle, it... jsut hadn't occurred to you that he wasn't running the bath for himself.

“What?” you blurt.

The king's head twists around and he cocks a brow at you over his shoulder. “The... water?” he says slowly, as if you're missing something unbelievably obvious, “It should be... warm enough?”

All at once, something clicks in your brain.

“I sincerely hope you didn't run that for me,” you tell him, eyeing the tub with a wary frown.

Cold as you are, you don't like the implications of having to get in the water with Bowser still in the room.

It would be highly improper.

The koopa however, actually seems surprised at your reluctance, giving your filthy night dress and mud-slaked skin a furtive once-over. “Who else would it be for?”

You spare his own muddy belly a pointed look and quip, “I can't imagine.”

Snorting gruffly, the king takes single step towards you, crowding you against the back of the toilet when he extends an arm, offering you his hand. “Here, lemme help you in.”

Teeth still rattling in your skull, you give his claws a mistrustful look. “If you think I'm getting in that bath with you in the room, you've got another thing coming.”

“C'mon,” he coaxes with a crook of his thick, taloned finger, “You're filthy. And you're cold.”

Cursing the goosebumps that scatter across your forearms, you turn your nose up at his proffered hand and firmly state, “I said no.”

Bowser's lips give an almost imperceptible twitch at their corners. “I ain't leavin,” he warns you. If he were a more honest koopa, he'd tell you that he's not about to let you bear any weight on that ankle.

Jutting out your chin in defiance, you dismiss him with a brusque wave of your hand. “Well then... it seems we're at an impasse...”

If you'd have kept an eye on his expression, you'd see his scorching eyes flash eagerly at the prospect of a challenge.

Your pain, it seems, has leant you hubris. You're on the defensive – angry that your little escape attempt had failed. And now, you're refusing his help. You've forgotten whose castle this is. For your own good, it appears he'll have to remind you.

Shrugging his massive shoulders, the koopa withdraws his hand. “Suit yourself.”

And before you can dissect that gleam in his eye, he suddenly bends down and slides his palms beneath you again, hoisting you up off the toilet seat in one, smooth motion.

You immediately come alive in his grasp.

“I said don't touch me!” you bleat, wriggling like a trapped viper.

Your wayward arm smacks against his muzzle, earning a wince but he remains undeterred as he holds you over the bathtub and begins to gently lower you down towards the waiting water.

“You son of a – ow!” Crying out in shock, you stiffen at the feeling of warm liquid stinging uncomfortably against your chilled, muddy skin.

Bowser drops to his knees with uncharacteristic care, watching your face attentively for any sign of real discomfort, but all he finds instead is ruffled affront.

He'll take it. Better offended than hurt.

Powerless against the giant's impenetrable arms, you find yourself gingerly placed – nightdress and all – down into the warm bath, immediately cringing away from the thick, fleshy fingertips that brush over the backs of your knees as he withdraws his hands.

For a long moment, you stare agog at the water rippling around you, as if you can't quite believe that he really had the audacity to do that. Then, on a creaking neck, you turn a scandalised glower at up at the king, who only peers back at you, unintimidated by your expression.

“Well... Congratulations,” you deadpan, “It seems you've managed to rob me of my last shreds of dignity after all.”

At that, a self-satisfied grin spreads across Bowzer's maw and he lets a rolling chuckle fill the room, pushing himself up off his knees to tower over you and the bathtub once more. “Ah, don't be so dramatic,” he hums, turning to a shelf on the wall and deftly scooping a variety of bottles and pots into one, immense palm, “You still got plenty of that left... I let you keep your gown on, didn't I?”

Highly unimpressed, you slide away from him when he leans over the bath and carefully starts placing his various concoctions along the side in a neat, little line.

“And I suppose you expect me to thank you for that,” you say flatly.

Drawing back, the koopa casts a crimson eye about the room for anything he's missed before he replies, “Heh, it'll make me feel better.”

“Then I think I'd like to decline.”

Despite himself, a sharp bark of laughter causes Bowser's shoulders to jump. “Ha! Thought you might.”

“If I try to get out, will you just put me back in again?”

Dipping his snout, the King meets your eye and offers you a long, languid blink. “Give it a try,” he drawls, “And maybe you'll find out.”

His smouldering gaze watches you intently, waiting for you to make a move, to test the sincerity of his thinly-veiled threat.

Your eyes narrow...

Without warning, you make a sudden move and throw an arm out at random, not aiming for anything, but testing, and sure enough, quick as a flash, Bowser's hand is just there, wrapped firmly but surprisingly gently around your wrist.

You fall still at once.

Good reflexes on him. A little too good for your liking. But it proves he's willing to keep you sitting in the bathtub, wearing your nightdress and a layer of mud, until he deems you ready to emerge.

Mortifying.

You're going to have to surrender this time, though the prospect sends a shiver of dismay crawling down your back.

Several moments pass where the two of you simply stare at one another, he in growing intrigue and you in clear contempt.

It's only when you pointedly clear your throat and give your arm a tug that he blinks, his smile collapsing and his fingers carefully peeling themselves away from your wrist one by one.

“So-” With a deeply furrowed brow, you ask, “Do you really plan on watching me bathe, or can I get a little privacy?”

The immense koopa's demeanour shifts like a switch has been flipped. Ducking his head, he reaches behind his neck to rub sheepishly at the scales beneath his black, spiked collar. “Well... I.. figured you might need some help is all. I mean, you're still wearin' the dress, so it ain't too...” He trails off.

“Clothed or no, I'm still in a bath,” you press, “And where I come from, it's very ungentlemanly to watch a lady while she bathes.”

You may as well have smacked him around the face with how abruptly he wheels about, inadvertently whacking his tail against the tub in the process. “Well, of course it's ungentlemanly!” he professes, “I knew that.”

With his vast, green shell now standing like a makeshift barrier between you and the outside world, you heave a resigned sigh and begin tentatively scrubbing at the mud on your arms. You'd sooner pull your own teeth than admit it out loud, but the warm water does come as a relief to your bones. If nothing else, there's that.

Absently, you stretch out a hand and grab one of the nearby bottles - a modestly-sized tube that fits snugly in the palm of your hand. You cast a glance at the label and your brow instantly quirks when you spot the little illustration of a pink rose on its side.

“I-I wasn't, uh, sure what you'd like... so...”

Your eyes flit up to Bowser, but you find he's still facing away from you, his gaze affixed to the bathroom door.

Letting your stare drift back to the line of bottles sitting along the side of the tub, you breathe out a humourless laugh.

“Rose petals? Cinnamon?” you read aloud, “Shea butter, and Strawberry?” You peer up at the back of his immense skull again. “These from your own personal collection?”

Bowser lifts an arm, shrugging easily. “Nah, don't use the stuff,” he grunts, “Makes my scales itch. But, I thought it'd be nice for you, to... y'know, have a choice, or whatever.”

The flannel stills at your elbow, poised to scrub at the mud splattered across it. One side of your mouth twists up pensively as you scrutinise the king, roving a searching gaze from the fearsome horns on his head, down his shell, to the tip of his powerful tail that lays squashed up against the bath.

Then, once again, your eyes travel back to the scented lotions.

You suddenly recall a few instances, back when you were still a princess and your father's enemies were trying everything and anything to rile him. Once a season, you would often find yourself the unwilling captive of some small time lord who thought he'd make a name for himself by capturing the King's daughter.

He and many others. All making grabs for money, for power or clout...

Why, you've been tossed in cages and locked in underground dungeons, even tied to a tree...

But scented bath soaps? Silk sheets? Three course dinners?

These are decidedly not the norm for the average kidnapping victim.

“You know something?” you pipe up, dragging the flannel over your elbow, “You must be the strangest kidnapper I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

The tip of Bowser's tail slaps haughtily against the tiles. “M'not a kidnapper,” he grumbles, folding a pair of thick, yellow arms across his chest.

“Right...” You purse your lips. “And denial's not a noun.”

There's a pregnant pause as Bowser stews whilst you rinse the flannel out in the now-murky water before he speaks up.

“What d'you mean by that?”

“Well,” you reply, nonchalant, “A noun is something that's used to-”

“Not that!” he gripes, rolling his crimson eyes to the ceiling, “What d'you mean I'm the strangest you've ever met? You get swiped a lot or somethin'?”

You scoff bitterly. “Uh, yeah. At least a half-dozen times this last decade.”

And at that, Bowser is... well... he isn't entirely sure what he is. He struggles to make heads or tails of the molten burst of heat that ignites in his chest at the thought of you being kept by a stranger. Did they take care of you? Were your conditions there better than they are here? How did you escape...?

What did they do to you...?

A curl of smoke drifts between his bared teeth, and his eyes flash to it at once, blinking widely in alarm. He snaps his slips shut to trap the smoke behind them, gulping hard until the taste of sulphur fades on his tongue. 'What was that?'

He's... angry?

Bowser glances down at his hands, almost surprised to find that they've curled themselves into crushing fists.

Huh... must be his competitive side shining through...

Clearing his throat, he adopts a careless pose and plants one of his palms against a brawny him. “Huh, right,” he utters lamely, “So, uh... How'm I doin'?”

“How are you doing?” you repeat.

“Yeah, y'know. I'm – … You like it better here, right? Your room's better? You're okay?”

“Bowser, I'm here against my will,” you retort flatly, “I'm not sure I'd describe any of this as being okay.”

Yeah... He probably should have expected that...

“But,” you sigh, absently flicking the cap off the rose-scented soap and squirting a dollop onto your palm, “I have to admit, I've never been given bath soaps before. So... that's a new one.”

Still facing the door, Bowser perks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah... And, oh my goodness, there was this one man, some hired thug – he got so angry with me for almost escaping, he broke my leg on purpose-”

Unbeknownst to you, the king's back goes rigidly straight.

“- So compared to that guy, you're not the worst kidnapper I've ever had. Just, as I said, the strangest.”

Bowser doesn't reply. He doesn't trust himself to at the moment. He's unwilling to lose his temper in such a confined space, especially with you in the room.

What nerve...? What unmitigated gall... To deliberately hurt someone too fragile to fight back... To hurt you...

Massive shoulders start to heave, his heart thunders to a breakneck gallop in his chest....

… and the gentle scent of rose petals fills the air, wafting up into his nostrils on the bath's steam.

The maelstrom of outrage recedes a little at the smell, delicate and floral. Bowser's eyes slip shut and he draws in a slow, calming breath, willing his blood back from the verge of boiling point.

No sense in getting himself worked up and inadvertently showing his hand. You're all right now, barring a busted ankle.

You're here. And you're safe, with him, he knows that. He just wishes you'd realise it as well.

You said he wasn't the worst? Well... That's as good a place to start as any...

“You know,” he rumbles softly when he trusts himself to speak without growling, “If you just gave this place a chance, you might actually start to like it here.... Might even see that I'm not so bad.”

He's a bad guy, yes. But beyond appearances, he's not a monster.

The sound of skin being lathered goes silent for a moment. Then, slowly, you say, “You're trying to convince me that you're not so bad.... by taking me hostage?”

… Okay, so his method has flaws! Nobody's perfect!

Nostrils flaring defensively, the King barks, “Yeah! So?!”

“So!?” Scoffing an incredulous laugh, you shake your head. “Do you realise how ridiculous that sounds? Why would you do this?”

Ridiculous? In the face of your insult, the anger he'd tramped down begins to rear its ugly head again, stirring like a beast of fire in his belly. “Be-... because!”

When he doesn't elaborate further, you let out an exasperated groan and press, “Because what?”

The question in itself is harmless enough, really.

But... well... If the koopa King is famous for one thing, it's that it takes very little to set him off. You've touched a nerve, roused a deeply-rooted insecurity that even he is unwilling to examine too closely.

Why did he take you prisoner? Why did he take Peach prisoner so often? Why does he have to force people into his company...?

Without warning, the koopa whirls around, snarling like a wild animal, and you're forced to throw yourself against the opposite side of the bath when a colossal fist comes crashing down on the side, sending all of the bottles toppling to the ground with a clatter.

“RRRGH!!! Because I don't know how else to make frie-!”

But just like that, Bowser freezes, slamming his jaws together so fast that his teeth rattle in his skull.

You're staring up at him, mouth agape, one hand clutched against your heaving chest... The water around you is dark with the mud you've scrubbed off.

Like rain to a fire, his anger extinguishes with a hiss and a wisp of smoke.

“I'm... uh... I..” He can't think properly. Shame is an unusual concept for the King. But he does know regret when he feels it. Clawed fingertips twitch as he tries to raise a hand towards you, compelled by some long-forgotten instinct that urges him to soothe a lady in distress. “Look,” he mutters, “You don't-”

“-Lord Bowser? Are you in there?”

The koopa's muzzle whips in the direction of the door.

“My liege?” Someone knocks on the wood.

Oh... Kamek. Good timing, as always...

“Yeah, yeah... We'll be out in a sec, Kamek,” he calls to the other side of the door, using one claw to lift a fluffy, white towel from a nearby rail, holding it out for you to take.

But at the wide-eyed stare he receives, the King swallows and resolves to drape it over the toilet seat instead.

----------

It's only a few minutes later that you find yourself laying in a miserable heap on the silk sheets once again – warm, dry ones that have been fetched by Bowser himself from the airing cupboard. Those that had aided in your escape have been hauled back in through the window and tossed to one of the guards stationed outside your room. That same window was subsequently locked, and the key crushed out of shape under Bowser's substantial heel.

Kamek, the wizened, bespectacled koopa, stands beside the bed on your right, contemplating your heel before his king appears to hover vigilantly over his shoulder.

You despise their scrutiny.

“Mm, significant swelling,” the old koopa remarks, squinting at your foot through his glasses as he lifts a hand out towards it, pausing to ask, “Ah, may I, my dear?”

Offering him a weary smile, you reply, “Of course you can. And, may I just say, thank you, Kamek. For asking permission first.”

Over his advisor's shoulder, Bowser peels his lips back, unimpressed, though he doesn't meet your eye or offer a quip in response.

Oblivious, or perhaps apathetic to the exchange, Kamek begins to poke and prod at the skin around your heel. “Now, tell me where it hurts...”

Despite your best efforts, you end up flinching once or twice and hissing through your teeth, though Kamek is always swift to pull away when you do, which, you decide, is good of him.

Although you suppose his caution has less to do with causing you pain than it does with the gigantic koopa rumbling a cautioning growl behind him.

After a terribly unpleasant minute of being subjected to the unwavering scrutiny of the pair, you're offered respite when Kamek finally steps back and adjusts his glasses with a sigh. “Well, the good news is, it isn't broken. It's only a sprain. You're lucky the earth was so wet, young lady. Or this could have been far worse.”

To your surprise, Bowser actually looks even more relieved than you are.

“And... the bad news?” you ask.

At this, the old advisor spins on his heel and cranes his wrinkled neck back to address the King. “The bad news, is that this is not the kind of injury my magic can heal. However, with a little rest and some time, she'll be right as rain.”

Well... There go your escape plans for the foreseeable future.

“So, no strenuous activities. And for goodness sake, stay off that foot.”

And there go your lively play-dates with Junior. Shame.

"If that will be all, Your Majesty?" With a rustle of his long, blue robes, Kamek allows himself to be lead back to the door by an uncharacteristically quiet Bowser, who merely offers his advisor a stiff nod, ushering him outside.

Planting a fleshy palm against the wood, he stands on the inside of your room, waiting for Kamek's respectful bow before he pushes the door shut once more, listening to the older koopa's footsteps recede down the hallway.

Behind the King, staring down at your upturned hands, you let a quiet breath seep from your lungs whilst your shoulders and chest deflate like popped balloons.

You're not quite at rock bottom. Not yet. You're close though. All thoughts of freedom flit away from you, dancing out of reach, and with a bitter resignation and a twinge in your swollen ankle, you turn to face the window and slide yourself down under the bedsheets, expertly ignoring the looming presence of your fearsome captor.

In silence, you wait, keeping your ears pricked for any sounds that will indicate Bowser's departure.

You end up waiting rather a long time, long enough that you're starting to doubt your own senses, wondering if he's even in the room at all, when suddenly, a resonant sigh drifts into your ears, stilling the breath in your chest.

Ears straining, you listen closely to the shifting of a massive body.

There's a 'click' and the room is swiftly plunged into darkness, yet still you don't hear the doors creak open, nor do you hear his heavy footsteps receding down the hall.

He's still in the room with you then, standing behind you in the dark.

A shudder creeps up your spine like fingers of ice.

What is he doing?

It occurs to you that he's probably just trying to be intimidating, which... well... Mission accomplished.

Minutes pass without incident, and all the while you hardly dare to let a breath escape you lest you miss a crucial sound.

You remind yourself that it wouldn't be in keeping with Bowser's behaviour thus far if he were to try and hurt you now, when you're more vulnerable than ever.

With your eyes fixed on the window, you listen to the gentle plinks of rain hitting the glass and vow to stay awake. He won't get the jump on you if you don't sleep...

But exhaustion has made its home behind your eyes, dragging them closed temporarily before you give a jolt and they spring open again.

Every time, it gets a little harder to fight the siren song of sleep.

You're tired. A day of fighting, climbing, falling and panicking is finally taking its toll on you. At long last, with a soft, tentative yawn, you let your eyelids slip shut and this time, they don't flutter open.

In the darkness of your prison, poised like a gargoyle in front of the doors, Bowser raises his muzzle into the air and gives a curious sniff.

He knows exactly when you fall asleep from the sag of your shoulders to the breaths that start coming more naturally.

His mighty heart jumps when you roll over onto your back, but you're only readjusting in your sleep, sinking down into the plush pillows with a long, languid exhale.

Slowly, carefully, the koopa takes a step towards you, stilling at once when his clawed toes click softly on the marble floor.

… Nothing...

He takes another step, and another... and another, tiptoeing across the room as best as an oversized koopa can until he's towering over you while you slumber, oblivious to your nightly audience. A gap in the clouds allows the moon to throw her beams through the window and gives him the chance to look upon your restful face.

It seems so odd to see you without that permanent, troubled frown sitting between your eyebrows.

He realises, with an unknowable throb in his chest, that this is as happy as he's ever seen you, and it's because you've managed to escape into the safety of your dreams.

Away from him.

Bowser's fists, that have thus far been clenched at his sides, slowly loosen, hanging limply in something that feels a little too much like defeat for his pride to bear.

The pace at which he crawls into the meagre space behind you is arduously slow, and he cringes at every squeak of the springs. But you must be shattered, because even when he lifts his last leg off the floor and his whole weight bears down on the mattress, you only smack your lips a little and lift a hand to flop onto the pillow beside your head, palm tilted towards the ceiling.

With more hesitance than he's used to, Bowser lowers his chin down to lay right next to you, close enough that he can easily detect the rose soap lingering your soft, supple skin. Shamefully, he inhales a deep, quiet breath, filling the caverns of his lungs with the smell of you, exhaling it softly enough that it only disturbs the finer hairs that grow around the edge of your face.

The koopa's eyes blink lazily over to your upturned hand. It's so close. Would it be enough to wake you if he...?

As cautiously as he had getting onto the bed, Bowser slides a massive hand up to the pillow and dips his claws beneath your knuckles, holding his breath to see if you'll react. When you don't recoil in disgust, he swallows thickly and continues to slip his hand underneath yours until his own is resting on the pillow, whilst yours sits snugly in the cup of his warm, calloused palm.

Tomorrow, you'll wake up to an excruciating ankle and a king you can hardly stand. A king you'd rather stay away from by letting yourself get seriously injured....

But tonight? Just for a few hours, Bowser can pretend that you're here, happy to lay beside him with your hand grasped loosely, lovingly in his.

#Bowser x Reader #Bowser x Y/n #human/monster romance #super mario bros #super mario #whump #hurt/comfort #bathing/washing #Sad Bowser because I hurt my blorbos #Bowser just wants a friend #Kamek #mario movie

295 notes · View notes

wh1iteferrari · 21 days

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ! — shower sex with bsf!chris.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 chris sturniolo x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : as y/n gets ready to do her everything shower, chris suggests some ways they could save water.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : shower sex, friends who fuck, p in v, unprotected sex, nicknames, use of y/n, praise kink if you squint??, let me know if i missed anything!

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 : sorry i took so long to post this, writers block was killing me. xoxo, lottie.

i discard my clothes, leaving them laying on the floor. chris was staying over at my house, and i had asked him if it was alright if i take a quick shower, which he replied with “of course. take your time”.

i got everything ready. all the after products that i needed placed on the counter and products i was going to use in the shower on the little tray on the wall. i told chris to keep him busy while i did my thing. him immediately putting on netflix to search for a show to watch, i heard him start a new series as i started my shower, the tv obnoxiously loud.

i get in the shower, the hot water running down my body making me relax immediately. i let out a sigh of contentment as i stand under the warm stream pf water for a few minutes to let my body calm down.

a soft, quiet thud is heard from behind the marble shower wall that protects the water from running all over the bathroom floor outside the shower.

“chris…??” i call out for the brunette long haired boy. receiving a shy “yeahhh….?” as i hear him open and close a cabinet. “do you need something…?” i stop rubbing my vanilla scented shampoo in to my hair.

a sudden movement of pants dropping on the floor fills the room. “do you… uh..” he replied nervously. “can i join..??” i heard him shuffle around in the room, confusing me.

“chris…” i turn down the water pressure so i could hear him better. “please, baby…?” i pause for a moment, not sure where this was coming from. “okay… come..” i hear him walk towards the shower slowly, taking his time before peaking behind the corner that was hiding me.

he joins me finally. my back pressed against him from how close our bodies are. he gently grabs the shampoo from my hands, squeezing a little out of the bottle before continuing to rub the soap into my hair, massaging my head gently.

i drop my head back against his chest, closing my eyes. as he finishes shampooing my hair i quickly rinse it and get some for chris. “turn around.” i hold his shoulder. he turns around and i look him up and down, catching a glimpse of his boner, and smile to myself.

i soap his hair, doing the same he did for me, gently massaging his scalp. “god, y/n” he groaned as he turned back around, the water immediately rinsing his hair since he stood right under the warm stream of water. he pulls me closer by my waist, holding me tight.

“i need you.. chris.” he pushes me against the wall, making me gasp. i put one leg up, wrapped around around his waist. “are you sure..?” his hands caress my cheek. the water continues running down his face and back, and he has goosebumps all over his body.

i nod. “yes, please.” i pull him closer and our lips meet in a passionate kiss. chris’ hands traveled from my stomach, to my thighs. He caressed them in a soothing motion before pulling away, looking into your eyes.

“fuck, i want you so bad, baby.” he leaned down, gently pressing a kiss to each one of my tits. you let out a soft moan of pleasure as his one of his hands moved down to your aching clit, he slowly circled it with his thumb.

"i can't wait to be inside of you" chris says trailing kisses down my neck. "I'm gonna make you feel so good baby" he says continuing to rub my sensitive bud as he continues kissing down my neck, earning breathily moans from me.

“fuck, don’t have a condom with me.” he mutters against my neck. “sfine…” i continue. “i’ve been on the pill for a few months..” i watch his face return back to his normal lustful gaze as he smashes his lips back on to mine.

"I cant wait to slide right in and see how good you really feel" chris whimpers. i feel his hands travel down between my legs. "are you ready sweetheart" chris asks as he rubs his tip between my wet folds. "yes, chris… please" i moan. he slowly slides into me all the way and begins to slowly thrust.

I bite my tongue and throw my head back, closing my eyes. I dig my nails into his shoulders. Chris takes advantage and slides his mouth along my neck while he grabs me by the ass to start to fuck me against the wall.

he thrust into me slowly, letting me get used to the deep thrusts and then he gets impatient and starts thrusting into me quickly, gradually increasing the force he was exerting. “fuck, baby, wrap around me so well.”

He lowers one of his hands and begins to move his fingers over my clitoris, causing the knot in my stomach to snap. i gasp, “chris!” my legs wrapped around his waist shakes. i collapse onto him, my face in the crook of his neck.

“it’s okay ma, i got you.” he holds me up, preventing me from falling. my sensitivity killing me. “did so good f’me, ma.” he pulls me towards him for a kiss. I go around his neck and take the opportunity to take a few steps back so that the shower can wet us both well.

i finish showering and rinsing the vanilla cinnamon body wash off of us, giving a small back massage as we get out of the shower and dry ourselves.

i rub the towel on his hair, drying it. i shake his head around jokingly. i watch him giggle to himself as i take the towel of his head to watch him.

we stand still for a few minutes admiring each other. half of his head covered with the towel and my hands cover his face. he places tender kisses on my collarbone and cheek. i close my eyes softly, taking in the moment.

“we can’t just be friends after this… right?” little drops of water fall off his face slowly. i trace the droplet sliding down his nose with my finger.

“i never wanted to be just friends.”

#❝ 𝟒𝟒𝟒 ❞#𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞 fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #wh1iteferrari ⊹ ‧₊˚

55 notes · View notes

arvfurniture-blog-blog · 4 months

Link

Maintaining a coffee table, especially if it's from a quality brand like ARV Furniture, involves a few regular care and maintenance steps to keep it looking its best and extend its lifespan. Here are some tips:

General Maintenance Regular Cleaning:

Dusting: Dust your coffee table regularly with a soft, dry cloth to prevent the buildup of dirt and grime. Spills: Wipe up spills immediately using a damp cloth to prevent stains and water damage. Protective Measures:

Coasters and Mats: Always use coasters under drinks and placemats under hot dishes to prevent water rings and heat damage. Trays: Use decorative trays to organize and contain items, reducing the risk of scratches and spills. Avoid Direct Sunlight:

Prolonged exposure to direct sunlight can cause the finish to fade. Position your table away from windows or use curtains/blinds to filter the sunlight. Temperature and Humidity:

Maintain a consistent indoor temperature and humidity level to prevent the wood from expanding or contracting, which can cause cracks or warping. Specific Care Based on Material Wood:

Polishing: Use a high-quality furniture polish or wax designed for wood to maintain its shine and protect the finish. Apply sparingly to avoid buildup. Scratches: For minor scratches, use a touch-up marker or wax stick that matches the color of your table. Glass:

Cleaning: Use a glass cleaner or a mixture of vinegar and water to clean the surface. Avoid abrasive cleaners that can scratch the glass. Protection: Use felt pads under decorative items to prevent scratches on the glass surface. Metal:

Cleaning: Use a damp cloth to wipe down metal parts. For tougher spots, a mild soap solution can be used. Dry immediately to prevent rust. Polishing: For metal with a finish, use a specific metal polish to maintain its appearance and prevent tarnish. Marble:

Cleaning: Wipe with a soft, damp cloth and dry immediately. Use a pH-neutral cleaner to avoid etching. Sealing: Marble may require periodic sealing to protect it from stains and spills. Additional Tips Rearrange Regularly:

Occasionally rearrange items on your coffee table to prevent uneven wear and fading on certain spots. Use Tablecloths or Runners:

These can provide an extra layer of protection from scratches, spills, and heat, especially during meals or gatherings. Pet Protection:

If you have pets, be mindful of their claws which can scratch the surface. Train pets to avoid the table or use protective covers. By following these maintenance tips, you can keep your ARV Furniture coffee table looking beautiful and functional for many years. Regular care and prompt attention to any issues will ensure your coffee table remains a centerpiece in your living space.

0 notes

bobelblogger · 5 months

Text

Sultry Sorceress Ch ?? Big Fat Giant Wedding

Magna Milfrah of Frostfoot Clan Monk Chadus of Icebreaker Clan

Prima Zilah of Icebreaker Clan

Primar Chodin of Frostfoot Clan

Queen Nymphoria of Hedonia

Empress Tamora of Cytheria

Lady Diana (Nadia) of Fornicalia

Sir Pocy (Pussy) of Fornicalia

Mark MacMacha

Princess Cadence

Nicolette Belladonna of Hedonia

Staby Turclonak

Thirty unconscious men and ten women lay tossed about the bed chamber like dolls in a untidy playroom.

Over the last three nights the best of the whore houses in the capital had been assembled and of those the most well endowed toys had been selected, some were fun, others broke too easily, didn't matter, one time with her was more than they deserved.

A oval font of bubbly rose petal strewn warm water awaited as a sheen robed woman sauntered through the silk curtain, two silver cherub statues one with a tray of bathing oils and skin creams the other held assorted lufas, sponges and combs for the sovereign to pick out which to use.

Perfectly primed pearly toes swirled the water to test, finding it satisfying, disrobed and glided into the foam mounds and lay spread eagle, nearby a harpist and flute duo began their harmony as crowds of people outside shouted to be heard.

"Such times and such measures taken to secure my throne, I should end the violence---not."

Horns sounding and the clatter of hooves on cobbled stone meant a crackdown, rubbing her heels together and soaping her breasts and lady bits, at first her contentment was broken by the noise, second her peace was breached by a door opening as a page boy rushed in with scrolls out of breath.

"Your Most Illustrious Angelic Majestic Royal Highness Empress Tamora, Mark was seen with Princess Cadence on-"

She sat up as the page tripped on his own feet, slid across the golden inlaid marble floor and into the water, he heroically preserved the scrolls above the water with one hand treading with the other.

Her mood and bath time ruined, snatched the parchments from him and with her free hand held him under as she eyed one fervently.

Mark MacMacha kidnapper, murderer, robber, white male, seen on ship Isebourg to Giant country with Princess Cadence as hostage in tow, to the Empress of Cytheria.

Then she eyed the other.

Magna Milfrah of Clan Frostfoot cordially invites you to the marriage of Primar Chodin Frostfoot and Prima Zilah Icebreaker in the Mountains of Giant country, the dress code is gray, light blue or teal, no whites or creams, no pets or weapons. Bring gift from list on back.

Letting the clumsy boy surface sputtering and coughing up water, Empress Tamora shouted demands.

"Get my winter wardrobe out, hail the fastest ship in the port to dock at the royal pier, bring my tailor and hair stylist, now!"

Having heard all present ran out to complete her tasks, she rose like a demigoddess of perfect erotic beauty as water trickled down her sublime and shimmering form, her grandiose globes bounced and rear swayed as the candle light off the chandelier made her glow, pussy hair gone ere faint blond fuzz in a T shape as she wrapped her curls in rollers and a towel and tied her sheen robe.

"I'll have my runaway daughter and her studly dwarf too, Mroc be praised." She said the last bit with lust and longing then seductively strutted off to be deified.

----

Bound in a cozy velvet fur lined bra and thong set, cinnamon legs clad in thick silk thigh high stockings and sock slippers, magic heating be damned it was colder than ice golem cock, but enjoyable if you booked the captain's cabin above the boilers, marveling at your own drop dead gorgeous curves and sensual lips sipping coca bean nectar of warmth while modelling dresses in the mirror.

"Captain, which do you think would look better, this one or this one?" donned an exquisite flowing gown of pearl gray brocade with silver lacing centered around a pearl studded silver broach, gray elbow length gloves and solid silver roses to affix in one's hair.

"Or do you prefer the piece de renaissance, my own designed of meteorite gems." Posing yet another dress.

It's glory shined in fading baby blue as the captains mostly covered eyes saw only the sparkle of hundreds of gemstones matching formations of distant constellations amid bigger rounded crystals as suns, with it a wire hairpiece inlaid the lunar cycle in milk-glass with sparkly heels to match.

"I am in favour by finery to the former, but the latter blinds my eyes like beams of beauty."

"So the sparkly one, a future heirs gift or for my future wedding." Nymphoria said sipping with sultry sass.

"Yes, it's a work of the highest quality and design." Spoken amid eye rubbing and blinking.

----

Nicolette tried the door to what she thought was the room, most of the doors looked the same and the words weren't in any language she spoke or read, she'd left to use the toliet but afterward got turned around, nobody was still up to go banging on random doors, an ever present chill made her fox fur nightie clad tits hard as diamonds.

Her heating magic kept her from becoming a erotic ice statue, but she had to be awake to focus it, aside from interval dozes she was tired and seasick and fucking cold, but the door wouldn't budge, not for lack of trying the latch, apparently her efforts stirred someone from rest who stuck their head out into the corridor, a young blond, emerald eyes, freckled pale and stunning semi divinely looks.

"Who's walking the corridor at such an hour, are you lost?" She sounded concerned and interested not angry.

"I'm not lost, just cold and needed the loo, my rooms heating must be broken." She fibbed with a blush full face.

"Well ours works, we've got two beds here, why don't you join our party for tonight?"

From within the room a hunky male voice called out above the muffled moan of a female.

"Cady, Staby is waiting for you to make the top of the tower, I'm itching to-." cut off.

"Coming Mac, I'm inviting a fourth in our room, we cool?" She asked and he replied "Yeah, sure, cool, whatever."

"Thank you, may I borrow a heavy cloak and a mirror?" Nicolette asked.

"Come in, I have both those things."

----

Nearly any doorknob or bedpost would do, Pussy needed to get bred in the worst way, her mistress for the last two days was conjuring some sexual potion or object and Lily was making sure Nadia didn't over do it and cum herself to death, Pad was heading off to the book store getting more dirty picture books,

"Hmmmm, little Paddy, surely that beef club he's lugging could be quite satisfying, Pecker-Packet."

Grinning as her cat form took over and she bounded over the castles garden wall and followed the boy as he took the road by the river over the toll bridge past a long since cleared traveler camp and to the local bookshop.

The door sign said no pets, 'Well screw that I can't wait for my dose of dongle-'

A wooden ball hit the ground near as Pussy turned to see it was a mutt, or rather a mutt with a leash that led to a kid, it saw her as the kid let him loose and she ran for her life, through an alley over crates and barrels of rubbish across a cobbled street just as a rider was rushing by on horseback, spooking the beast so it jumped over her and a few sealed letters fell from his saddlebags, the rider cursed but didn't notice it and went on.

Pussy turned back into her nubile body and would have torn the mutt to bits, a whistle made it stop and run away.

"Things I do for lust, life is a fucking divine comedy." At her bare feet the letters "What's this."

A deft swipe seized both and tore them open, reading the first with bemusement.

This is the result of the test for paternity, your the father, have fun telling him, next time pull out douchenut.

Little more than two lines, she crumpled it and read the next.

'Bingo, this'll get Nadia's attention and get me some play time with my Lil' sex kitten.'

Not bothering to turn back into a silky cat, sprinted down the alley and back past the bookstore down the road to the toll bridge and traveler camp by the river up onto the wall did a backflip off it into the courtyard and up the stairs to Nadia's study.

A large metal door with a half dozen locks on it and a dozen written signs said fuck off I'm fucking.

Transforming into poisonous mist under the crack and reformed into a supple girl of age with spikey hair flexing ears and twitchy tail.

Some things can't be unseen, unless the sight is so horrendous your mind blocks it or buries it deep inside, the sheer amount that was inside Nadia was more than even Pussy Pocket could fathom and she had orgies with the demons and less thrilling thralls in Hell.

Buried down to her ankles inside Nadia's jay-jay Lily squirming around the distended stomach area.

"Rr grt rrt." From inside the belly moved as a patch of blond hair pushed out, then a head and neck then out tumbled Lillian Toad in a puddle of mess.

"Its a girl, welcome to life, do we know who's the father?" Pussy shouted in mock celebration, slinking toward the birth batter bathed blond intending to lick her clean and more.

"If I didn't know your kinks and every inch a you I'd say being born is kind of new on the list." She put a hand on Lilys spunk frosted head, looking down at the blue oval shape item in her lap with glittery eyes. "Let me see it."

"Take it you feline freak, I did my part, eat a bowl of ass and wash it down with a goblet of jerk juice."

Getting up tossed it at Pussy then sashyed out the room and slammed the door.

"I am what I was born to be!" Pussy looked at the dripping egg and thought of jamming it up Lilly's ass.

'She'll come around, fucking sexy little cunt.' returning to her task hopped onto Nadia's empress size harpy feather bed cheerfully.

"I've found our next sexcation destination, purrfect for two of us to crash a party and slam some exotic cocks."

Nadia lay looking high and hungover panting like a bred mare. 'a whiff of muff treat will do the trick.'

Being a feline succubus with especially strong pheromones when hyper aroused could knock out a clan of ogres or wake a centuries asleep mountains spirit if caught downwind, Up her mistresses red valley through twin titty pass then spun around and squatted snuggly over her mouth and nose.

Stirring little by little a skillful tongue started lapping at her catfishy clit and warm breath tickled her taint, Pussypocket meowed with languid breath as her claws drew in time with her grind as she pinched, poked, probed, pricked and pawed both bulky milkjugs.

Up to now her head was in control, now her cooze took the reins whipping her into a feral frenzy, bucking like a jockey in the breeders cup spun around grabbing fistfuls of red hair yanking it so roughly the headboard split and the bed frame rocked surfing violent cresting waves of pleasure as Pussy neared climax her tail got tugged catapulting her cheap sack of ass into the canopy.

Tangled in a web of drape pull cords she still came ful circle onto the redhead in a torrent of hot demonic rain.

"Pussy, what a horny slattern you are, now my crystal hatching and astral orgy are both failures."

Slowly Nadia got up scooping some of the sizzling jizzum into her mouth and shook the rest off her resplendent form.

"I've eaten nothing but flameberries and spiced rum for two days to purge that egg from my body, didn't work."

Still straining against the cords digging into her skin every time she moved Pussy didn't say a word, forgetting in her post nut bliss she could change shape.

"But it did make the perfect aphrodisiac and time for Lily to retrieve it as I tripped giant balls on a parallel plane."

"Speaking of giants and balls I've found a invitation." Pointed to the paper by where the blue luminous orb laid.

Coming to the letter on the floor, Nadia opened and stained with lust droplets, picked it up to read.

"A giant wedding, this was your idea for us?" Walking to and stood under the canopy as she snapped her fingers.

Pussypocket felt her whole body shrink and fall it seemed for minutes as the bed finally met her face and bounded off into the arms of Nadia who erstwhile had transformed her into a cat, found herself unable or willing to turn back.

"Oh pretty pussy oh pussy my love what a lustful pussy you are." She lulled stroking her chin and ears gingerly as her body healed both from face fuck fog and expelling the crystal egg, time for sauna with a side of hot play.

-----------

"Try the emerald studded gown, it's a one off looking seductive and alurring is the main idea, regality and refinement come second if everyone's staring at your milk jugs and ass so just try it."

"If that's the case your wearing what I pick so I stand out, don't care who'll be there, I'm making fashion history."

Gray silk tights gray silk frilly shirt a flaired collar with bells, a wide brim gray velvet hat with green and blue bollo feathers a silk doublet in sky blue matched boots with leather wings poking out the back, a silk sash of emerald at the waist.

"I look like a lords gay tailor, why do you even have shit this size in the closet?"

"Well if a dwarf or halfling caught my eye I wanted a trophy from them." Nadia snarked as she slipped into a diamond studded gromithil bikini set, pays to be protected, costed a fuck ton of gold and favours to get it made.

"From where do we hail, upper, mid or lower?" said Pussy in her concept of degrees and levels of the underworld.

Nadia made a hand wave and a crude portrait of an stacked hunkish man topped with a mane of smooth brown silk hanging to his chiseled abs and hardly constrained pecks of iron clad in chainmail as he held aloft the heads of a wyvern and it's rider.

"Carnald of Fornicalia, sex dreams totally recall he was quite the inarticulate chieftain of an island city state, he took as servants every homes women and kept any visitors to the land for fun in his arena."

"I was ship wrecked seeking a lost treasure and on the beach was set upon by a horde of cucked husbands, fathers and suitors who wanted me as a trade for their women, seeing as no male could out man him and every female was his bitch, it was a battle of minds."

"So I availed him and within minutes of meeting he wanted my body and wouldn't take no for a reply."

"You see he longed for a son but his women only gave him daughters, I'd agreed to fix his problem for a price."

"He took me to dinner and took me on the dinner table like a stuffed centrepiece in front of all sixty nine women who started jilling off out of envy and horniness and the pregnant ones started going into labour, by dawn four in five were knocked up or knocked out and those that gave birth half were boys."

"If I cared to let him know I spiked the food with baby quickening and his beer-milk with sperm altering elixir, he honored me M'Lady and any son I bore by him a Sir of Fornicalia, gave me a fancy baton and medallion and lands."

"I may still if he hasn't been overthrown by his own children or wives or subjects in or jumped into the sea, in plain terms I'm a noble by title and I shall go to this shindig as one."

"What do we bring as a gift?"

-------

She made statues of the stylists, gifted the tailor a life time trip to the men's club.

Her royal vessel Empress was impounded by the Trade Shipping Union after six of her daughter's sailed it drunk crashed into two piers then fled and she refused the duty fee, those fuckers would regret making her shit list.

Aboard the Longspear now sporting a very frozen figurehead of the naked Captain Whitestache who refused her request to sail south faster, his first mate took over and now in half the time was approaching the bay off the coast at the barely noticeable cost of two crew and a barge tiller who was too slow to move.

She wore the captains hat and parka while using her index finger and thumb to compel the minds of the crew to work in blizzard conditions.

A smooth volcanic form thrust above the waves like a skinny dipping titans erection doing backstroke, atop the tip blazed a beacon to light the bay, drifting icebergs and compass skewing fields provided hazards a plenty to a ship besides running aground or collisions.

In no less than the time it took to divorce a shrimp cock husband on wedding night, the fog parted as the enormous bladed bow of a bigger vessel battered through the froth right for their craft and not much later plowed through it, quick thinking Tamora spied the anchor chain and magic assist jumped to the ship as the halves of Longspear set adrift and plunged below shortly after.

"Get fucked Sea God, I'll not be your brine bride today." Climbing the chain read the name in big letters on the bow.

ISEBOURG, inside her perfect breast her black heart skipped a beat and her immaculate eyelashes fluttered.

Vaulting on deck Tamora sauntered over to a hatch and unsealed it with a bit of magic, going invisible was an option but less appealing to her vain nature, a form flawless as hers demanded every sighted eye to bear witness.

Amid icy breathing through corridors she sleuthed and realized her informer hadn't actually given the room they were in, undoubtedly they boarded under fake names and in disguises, in a ship this big searching rooms would take hours.

'I must watch and wait for my prizes, if anything I'll know their voices and looks. In time may as well relive cravings.'

Tamora fantasized of Mark sealed in a box with holes to shit and eat, only his ramrod poking out to impale herself. Cadence spread on Mroc's altar throttled and lifeless as he feasted on her soul giving Tamora everlasting youth, both their clothing used as fuel to melt her staff and his claymore into dildo molds of his cock as gifts to her other daughters.

Inside her mind swam in the neurotic ocean of pleasure as tugging tide of tangible bliss pulled her deeper toward a huge pink clam she dove for out of breath it opened she grabbed its rainbow pearl and came so hard she burst into pieces.

Her inner thighs and legs glossed with jill juice as her nipples leaked milk icicles down her parted parka bared chest, hovered hands on her mound over and over drunk from her vision of victory, It was in that state she scarcely heard the midday gong sound and cabin doors began to open with passengers eager for lunch and to see the shore, she stood up straightened her outfit a bit and blended into the throng of folk.

A halfling crew member in a fruity yet adorable white uniform and pom hat strode by with a book in hand, she deftly stunned him and took it while blowing a kiss that broke the trance as soon he shrugged and moved on.

She hid the book in her bountiful breasts and kept walking, internally pleased and externally concealing her glee.

In the stairwell she flipped open the book and cast a transliteration charm to find her quarry.

Cargo Manifest, Pet Storage, Crew Rolls, Coal Stores, Passengers here we go, under her own name, Staby.

Portside, Deck B, Room O eighteen, she couldn't wait for the right time, ready or not here I cum."

Quick as her pristine legs could go found the right deck and side of the ship, shortly found the room number

Pink clercist cloak gold blond tresses amid a custom pin she had given Cadence on her fifth nameday, it was her.

A quick binding charm invisibly shackled her hands tied her tongue and made her dizzy, quickly grabbed and tossed the catch over her shoulder, it appeared like a parent holding their sleeping kid as Tamora giddily walked through the corridor to an aclove and down a hatch way, Cadence was squirming and trying to speak, passing a few crew

--------

A few minutes earlier.

"Wait for it, wait for it wait---ah there's the cumbardment, Wombville population one bastard."

"I said warn me, I'm not having a baby Mac, if anything I'm more than ten years from wanting a baby."

"Staby if I warned you it wouldn't be a surprise, just clean yourself up and I'll get Cady to eat your ass."

"I think Cady is busy with our new friend in the closet, what did she say her name was?" Staby jested.

"Don't know, mostly I don't want to know and if I did I'd have asked so I'd say dunno don't care."

"You really are an asshat sometimes, get me some grub and drink or I'll cork your anus with iron plug."

"Good luck with that, I'm going because I need some air and to lunch, I'll bring bacon." Mark fastened his kilt and took his claymore with him out the room.

-------

Riding a silver inlaid ultrafast broom two persons one tall redhead and one small blackmaned with a thick mustache traded good humor insults at the other while the pole vibrated their clits so erogenously they came twenty times in the past hour alone, being soul bonded felt the others bliss and reflected it back.

Up and over upon a cloud a rather large individual in fancy robes stood rolling and unrolling a rug or carpet.

"He seems like he's in need, what are the odds he's a Giantese as well, we should arrive with him as more cover."

Pussy floated her idea as her claws lightly gripped Nadia's thighs as her clam vice clamped the broom stick.

"You just want some megadong relief for the throb in your clenched ass, Okay we'll stop to help." Nadia muttered.

Lightly landing on the fluffy cloud, Nadia cast a charm to tread as a feather, Pussy's boot wings carried her aloft

Approaching the tall traveler who appeared garbed in simple robes of radiant colors, bald and barefoot.

"Monk Chadus of Minstrel Monastery, I perform at any ceremony barring unholy ones, rites and rhythm united."

He pronounced with an divine aura and without turning to meet them, but it was as if he did.

"You by chance traveling to a wedding in giant country?" Pussy mentioned in her best fobbish accent.

"My sibling Prima Zillah, I'm officiating the union, what business do you purport to have there?" He stoically asked.

"Yes our host is a Giantese of that name, her betrothed is Chodin, we noticed your plight and want to help."

"I'm Lady Diana and he is my partner Sir Pocy of Fornicalia, we'll help with your rug and accompany you along."

"Well, The charm on it ran out before I could make it, the closest is ten miles that a way and

0 notes

nineventures5 · 5 months

Text

Safety First: Essential Health and Hygiene Items for Hotel Bathroom Sets

he hospitality industry, ensuring the safety and well-being of guests is paramount. One area where this is particularly important is in hotel bathrooms, where guests expect cleanliness and hygiene to be top priorities. To meet these expectations, hoteliers must carefully select health and hygiene items for their bathroom baskets that not only promote cleanliness but also enhance the overall guest experience.

Essential items that every hotel bathroom basket should include to promote cleanliness, hygiene and guest comfort –

1. Bracket Hand Soap Dispensers:

Hand hygiene is of utmost importance, especially in shared spaces like hotel bathrooms. Hand soap dispensers are a staple item in hotel bathroom baskets, providing guests with easy access to soap for effective hand washing. Opt for refillable dispensers to reduce plastic waste and promote sustainability.

Stainless steel dispensers for hand soap, shampoo and conditioner are a popular choice for hotel bathroom baskets due to their durability and sleek appearance. Stainless steel is resistant to corrosion, making it ideal for humid bathroom environments. Additionally, stainless steel dispensers can be easily refilled, reducing waste and promoting sustainability.

2. Bracket Shampoo and Conditioner Bottles:

Guests expect to find shampoo and conditioner readily available in hotel bathrooms for their convenience. Provide high-quality, salon-grade products in easy-to-use bottles to elevate the guest experience. Consider offering eco-friendly options that are free from harmful chemicals and packaged in recyclable materials.

3. Disposable Amenities:

Disposable amenities such as toothbrushes, combs and shaving kits are a thoughtful addition to hotel bathroom baskets, catering to guests’ needs and preferences. Provide individually wrapped items for hygiene purposes and offer eco-friendly alternatives made from biodegradable materials.

For example, copper toothbrush holders add a touch of elegance to hotel bathroom baskets while also offering antibacterial properties. Copper has natural antimicrobial properties that help to inhibit the growth of bacteria, keeping toothbrushes clean and hygienic for guests. Plus, copper toothbrush holders are durable and resistant to corrosion, ensuring long-lasting performance in hotel bathrooms. Combs made of natural wood are a nice eco-touch that is sure to uplift the ambience of any bathroom space.

4. Resin Soap Dishes:

Resin soap dishes offer a practical and stylish solution for keeping soap bars dry and hygienic in hotel bathrooms. Resin is a versatile material that can be moulded into various shapes and designs, allowing for creativity and customisation. Additionally, resin soap dishes are easy to clean and maintain, making them a convenient choice for hoteliers.

5.Resin Amenity Trays:

Marble vanity trays provide a luxurious and elegant touch to hotel bathroom baskets. Marble is a natural stone known for its beauty and durability, making it an excellent choice for hotel decor. Marble vanity trays offer a stable surface for displaying toiletries and accessories, adding a touch of sophistication to the bathroom environment.

6. Resin Waste Bins:

Waste bins are a practical addition to hotel bathroom baskets, providing guests with a convenient place to dispose of used tissues, wipes and other waste items. Opt for bins with removable liners for easy cleaning and maintenance.

Why Nine Ventures

Selecting the right health and hygiene items for hotel bathroom basketsis essential for ensuring guest satisfaction and safety. By choosing sustainable and durable materials such as Wood, Stainless Steel, Copper, Aluminium, MOP (Mother of Pearl), Marble, Resin and Leather, hoteliers can create a clean, hygienic, and stylish bathroom environment for their guests to enjoy.

At Nine Ventures, we understand the importance of prioritising guest safety and satisfaction in the hospitality industry. That’s why we offer a wide range of high-quality health and hygiene items for hotel bathroom baskets, crafted from durable and sustainable materials. Our collaborative approach to working with clients ensures that every project, no matter the size, receives the attention to detail it deserves. From the initial design concept to the final delivery and beyond, we’re committed to providing personalised, bespoke solutions tailored to our clients’ needs and preferences. With Nine Ventures, you can trust that your hotel bathroom baskets will exceed guest expectations, resulting in a memorable and enjoyable stay for all.

Essential items that every hotel bathroom basket should include to promote cleanliness, hygiene and guest comfort –

1. Bracket Hand Soap Dispensers:

2. Bracket Shampoo and Conditioner Bottles:

3. Disposable Amenities:

4. Resin Soap Dishes:

5.Resin Amenity Trays:

6. Resin Waste Bins:

Why Nine Ventures

Elevate your hotel’s aesthetics – choose Nine Ventures for a curated collection of bespoke housekeeping accessories that embody the essence of Saudi hospitality. Contact us today.

To know more: https://www.nineventures.ae/a-complete-buying-guide-for-bespoke-housekeeping-accessories-in-saudi/

#Nine Ventures

0 notes