#and to make bending at the waist as difficult as possible

[shoulderholsterfreak]

Once again amused how Thrawn shows that he IS successful at reading people and in engaging social manipulation—but only when there’s no one around to muse about how bad he is at politics.

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Housekeeper!Reader? He was expecting some little old lady, not a college student looking for an extra side hustle to pay their tuition. He can already picture them as a housewife as they work around his mess of a place.

You're playing with the poor man's heart! When he was signing up for the weekly maid services, he hoped that it would be different people each time. Calling in for a housekeeper and a cleaner is already embarrassing enough at his grown age - there is a voice inside his head that tells him he should man the fuck up and stop being so damn difficult about watching over his own house, but having a regular maid who would know just how messy his life is...yeah, he was not having it. He needed someone old and boring, someone who, preferably, doesn't even speak German so he won't have to awkwardly master the conversation. He got you instead. You're...you're fucking perfect. In cozy and comfortable clothes, nothing that hugs your body and suggests something innappropriate - and yet every time you bend over, he can't help but imagine the way your ass must look under these baggy pants and has to fight the urge to just grab your waist and slam his erection against the curve of your hip. You're eager to work, you buzz around the messy house like a busy bee you are - there isn't much of his personal items inside, but his clothes and various gear laying around does make it a messy space. You were wondering if he is either a soldier or a serial killer, judging by the amount of weapons you got laying around...but it's better to not ask this question. You just needed some money, and the maid services are paying on the day of work - with repeating clients actually sometimes leaving you a nice tip or something to eat if you were to clean their houses at the dead of the night...it's really nice, somehow. Konig just can't keep his hands to himself sometimes. You look too adorable not to compliment on how you look - although he never dares, usually just staring at you from the corner. You're probably thinking he is afraid of you stealing something, but it's not like you really care about any of this, to be completely honest...you just want to keep your head low and get money. Unfortunately for you, Konig has a thing for housewife and domestic life. One time you were doing the routinely cleaning and it got really late - and with Konig literally having his house as far from civillization as possible, ass the buses were already leaving from the stations, leaving you stranded until the morning...and you'd be fucked or in for a very hefty taxi bill if it weren't for Konig oh so generously allowing you to spend the night at the guest room. You knew each other for a few months already, and the guy is harmless...naturally, you agree. Naturally, you never left this house without him again.

[ughgoaway]

An encounter

content warnings; smut (duh), threesome, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, slight cumplay maybe? swearing, drinking and possibly mediocre writing. and also probably more things I'm forgetting...

a/n; idk why, but I have actually never been more nervous to post a fic?? maybe I'm just insecure because JESUS CHRIST writing threesomes is so fucking difficult. I'm just thankful there was only one dick involved in this one. also i fear i made this a little too gay... i mention the girlfriend A LOT. soooo... sorry about that <3

anyway special thanks to @think0fmehigh for being the nicest human ever and encouraging me to try and write this!! she is to blame if this is awful (jk it is all my fault lol)

word count; 5k -ish

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Sweaty bodies press into your sides, the beat of the music pumps through the room, and you can feel the vibrations moving within you. With a heavy sigh and a wide smile, you throw your head back, letting your body move to the song carelessly. 

The music was swirling in your brain, and you were carelessly dancing, paying no attention to anyone else around you. So when you feel someone bump into you from behind, you immediately go to apologise.

Before you get a chance, you feel a pair of hands slide around your waist. You flick your eyes down and see perfectly manicured red nails spreading across your stomach, almost as if they were asking permission to pull you back into their body. 

Maybe it's the alcohol running through your veins, or the music pumping in your ears, or perhaps the fact that you haven't had a good fuck in 4 months. But you lean back into the mystery person's grip, pressing yourself against their hot body.

A wave of floral perfume overtakes your senses. The sickly sweet scent causes goosebumps to spread over your skin as you fight the urge to throw your head back and bury your head in her neck. sharp nails dig deeper into your skin, and you feel yourself hoping that she leaves crescent-shaped marks behind, to prove that this feeling is real. 

After a few minutes of moving together, you gain the confidence to flick your eyes back, to finally see the woman who has been practically fucking you in the middle of a crowded club Heavy eyeliner surrounded her hooded eyes and a deep red lipstick was smudged over her lips. Long curls of hair fell down her neck and chest, and even in the dark lights of the club, you could see her glowing skin, each pulsing light highlighted the thin sheen covering her.

With this newfound confidence, you press your body back against hers, your sticky skin sliding together as you grind against her. The rumble of a groan rips through her chest, and you can feel the vibrations as she presses herself even closer to you. Power thrums through your veins, and you can't help but giggle at the feeling of heat pulsating through you.

After a few minutes of dancing together, you feel her bend down to your ear. You prepare yourself for her hot breath in your ear, for her to whisper filthy things that make you drip down your thighs. You swear you can almost hear her inviting her back to her place, asking if she can bury her face between your legs until you're a sobbing mess.

Instead, she traces the outline of your ear with her tongue and begins pressing kisses to the outside of your neck, nipping and sucking your damp skin.

You let out a shuddered gasp at the sensation, and you can feel a smirk dancing across her lips. She slides her hands down from your waist to the tops of your thighs, inching dangerously close to your barely covered core.

The short skirt you were wearing didn't leave much to the imagination, and you wouldn't be shocked if she’d already caught a glimpse of your red panties from the way you were moving against her.

Once the song ends, you feel her grip around you loosen, and images of her spinning you around and shoving her tongue in your mouth as she gropes your exposed skin come to mind.

Except, before you can process the loss of her, she's slinked off into the crowd, leaving you breathless and annoyingly turned on.

Fucking hell. time for a drink.

You manage to part the sea of bodies and stumble to the bar, you shout over the pumping music and order a vodka cranberry. It might be a basic drink, but it was cheap and cheerful, and just what you need after being pied off by one of the hottest women you've ever seen.

“Put it on my tab mate, what's one more drink?” you hear a deep voice from behind you say, the timbre of his voice makes your pulse skitter. It was silky smooth and dripping with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't confidence or hunger, not even lust. It was just something.

you feel his body press up against you before he slides onto the stool to your left, his hot breath dances over the back of your neck, and you almost shiver at the sensation. But you were more than ready to shoot him down, you didn't come expecting anything tonight, and after dancing with that girl for 10 minutes you're not sure a man could fill the hole she’d left behind.

However, when you flick your eyes over to him, any sense of apprehension melts away and is replaced with pure lust. His dark eyes still managed to glow in the low lights of the club, and his pretty wine-stained lips were already begging to be bitten and kissed. Perfect ringlets framed his face, dark but with swirls of grey dancing through them. A light spattering of facial hair covered his jaw, just enough to scratch your skin deliciously.

“Thanks” you say, smirking over at the mystery man. You pause and wait for him to fill in his name, but he doesn't. Simply smiling smugly and taking a sip of his red wine, you watch a droplet fall on his lips and study the way his tongue darts out to catch it.

His intense eye contact makes you nervous, and you almost pull your eyes away. His heavy gaze was confident, as if he knew something you didn't. You almost scoff at his obvious bravado, but that dies in your throat when you see the woman you were dancing with earlier slink up to his side.

His calloused fingers slide around her waist, and you can see the tension in his grip, his almost white fingertips letting everyone know he was staking his claim on her.

“Hey baby,” she says, bending down and kissing the mystery man messily. You can see their tongues dancing in each other's mouths. The kiss is filthy, all teeth and tongues, perfectly wet and sticky, strings of saliva trailing between the pair.

You can feel yourself yearning to be involved somehow, to be pressed between them. You want to be both of them. You want to feel the grip of his hand around your neck like it is on hers, the subtle display of dominance making your pulse race. But you also want that dominance rattling through your bones. You want to overpower her and let her know who owns who.

The bartender slamming your glass on the bar in from of you pulls you out of the trance you were in, and you already feel a flush covering your cheeks. The heat spreads down your neck and chest, a pretty pink haze covering every piece of your skin. Fucking hell, you hope they didn't notice the way you were gawking at them.

They did, of course.

You start gulping down your drink, needing whatever liquid courage you can get right now. The man grabs your glass to stop you, gripping the base forcefully, “Woah, slow down there, love. Dont want you drinking too much tonight.”

You eye him suspiciously and place the glass down, “no? Why’s that?” You smirk over at the pair of them, tracing the rim of your cup with your ring finger. The girl bites her lips, leaving you completely entranced by the view of them both in front of you.

The throaty laugh from the man in front of you pulls you back once again, and you can see in his eyes that he knows you want her. And that you want him to.

“Well, not to be a cliche,” she starts, tracing your body with her eyes shamelessly, lingering as long as she pleases, “but we saw you across the bar and thought you were beautiful” She finished her sentence with a smirk and a lick of her lips. 

You can see the man's hands tense again, pulling her in even closer to his side. The light dances over her exposed legs as she slides into his lap without a second thought, draping herself over him. You can't help but follow the line of her legs all the way up, your eyes catch at the highest slither of skin, and you imagine that if she moved her leg ever so slightly you would be able to see what underwear she was wearing.

But based on how tight her dress was and the lack of panty lines, you would guess the answer is none.

You snort out a laugh at her wording, fanning yourself as the heat of the club begins to get to you, "This is starting to sound like the start of a shit porno”

You gulp down the remainder of your drink and hold eye contact with the man as you do, and you revel in the way his irises darken even further at your teasing actions. You know you couldn't keep up this faux-dominant act much longer, but his reactions were too tantalising to stop. The way his shoulder tensed and his pupils blew out.

You could see his chest shake with laughter every time you pretended to be in control. He could see right fucking through you.

“We were hoping it would end up being more like a good porno,” he drawls out, “if you agree to come home with us, that is” You follow his hand as it runs through his hair, before dropping to his wine glass and wrapping around it.

You can see the glimmer of a tattoo poking out of his sleeve, and you find yourself yearning to know if he has any more. Or if his pretty girlfriend does. Maybe you could trace each one with your tongue, holding eye contact with them as you did.

You know you should mull this over more, make them work for it. But honestly, any fight you might have put up disappeared about 3 months ago.

“Call a cab then, let's go have a little fun” 

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The poor cab driver is trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, but he can't help but flick them up to the rearview mirror every once in a while to catch the movie playing out behind him. 

You’re sitting in between the two of them, Matty's lips are hot against your neck, licking and sucking every piece of exposed skin. He kisses over the lipstick stains left by Scarlett, smiling as he thinks about sharing you between them. Your face is stained with smudged red as her lips work fervently against yours. The taste of her is almost overtaking your senses. The sweet strawberry flavour fills your mouth.

You only learnt their names when you were desperately kissing Matty outside the club, and you heard Scarlett groan it from behind you. Was it kind of slutty to agree to a threesome before you knew either of their names? Maybe, but you never claimed to not be a slut.

Matty works diligently behind your ear, sucking a deep purple hickey into your soft skin. You moan wantonly at the sensation, and you can feel the smirk on Scarlett's lips at your needy noises. Matty pulls from your neck and twists your head away from Scarlett, pushing his lips against yours harshly and licking inside your mouth.

He snaps away with a heaving chest and smirks over to his girlfriend, “Can fucking taste you on her tongue. Do you like that angel? I can already tell she’s been all over you” You whimper needily, nodding desperately at Matty and pulling his curls, craving his lips back on yours.

Scarlett's hands slide over your chest, palming your boobs and thumbing over your nipples through the thin mesh of your shirt. The scratch of the fabric against your sensitive skin was dizzying, and you had to fight every urge to fall back into her and moan helplessly.

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you both stumbled into the house messily, following Matty's every command. Which led you here, kneeling on the bed in front of him, panting, staring at Scarlett with lust-blown eyes.

“Put on a little performance for me ladies, c'mon” Matty demands, sitting back against the pillows and watching you both wordlessly, his eyes growing dark at the scene playing out in front of him.

Scarlett peels off her poor excuse for a dress, and you watch with wide eyes, tracing over every inch of her body. She tugs at your clothes, and you follow her silent order, ripping off your tiny skirt and flimsy shirt quickly. 

You see her hold in a moan at the sight of you just in your panties, her teeth scraping over her lips as she hungrily eyes you over. Your shirt looked bad with a bra, so you decided to forgo one tonight, much to her delight.

She surges forward and pushes you onto the bed below, hovering over you with dark eyes before kissing your neck hungrily, marking you wherever she can reach. With featherlight kisses, she begins moving down your body, flicking her eyes up to you and grinning at the blissed-out look on your face.

Matty hisses as he palms himself over his jeans, the pressure of the heavy fabric against his hard cock was making his head hazy. But he kept teasing himself, watching as his girlfriend began to make her way down your exposed chest. Every new patch of skin was explored, tracing it with her tongue and mouthing over you, nipping and soothing as she moved. 

Breathy moans leave your lips at the sensation of her mouth on your skin, the way her hot breath dances over you . Goosebumps arise all over your body. The heat was pulsing in your veins, and it kept growing hotter the further down she moved. Her heavy breathing over your clothed core made you feel as if you were burning from the inside out. 

Scarlett flicked her eyes up to Matty and wordlessly asked his permission. After a hasty nod, she grabbed the string of your panties with her teeth and began tugging them down your shaking thighs. Your jaw dropped as you watched the vision in front of you, thoughtlessly you lifted your hips to help her drag your underwear off you. 

The cold air against your wet cunt made you gasp, your slick spreading over your inner thighs as you writhed helplessly. With a heavy smirk, Scarlett came crawling back up the bed, gripping your knees and ripping your legs apart, you saw her eyes grow darker at the sight of you all spread out for her. 

“Such a pretty pussy, can I taste?” you open your mouth to answer, but before you can get a word out you hear Matty’s voice all around you,

“Go on baby, let me see you eat her”

You feel Matty moving behind you as Scarlett edges closer to your core, pressing wet kisses up your thighs, tasting the slick spread over them. You open your eyes to Matty looming over you, his eyelids heavy, and his chest heaving. 

His once perfectly manicured curls are now frazzled from your hands running through them, pulling and revelling in the grunts that were ripped from his throat. His neck was already blooming with purple hickies, scratches framing them perfectly from Scarlett's hands desperately pawing at him.

Scarlett finally puts her mouth on you, licking a broad stripe up your pussy before sucking your clit harshly, moaning desperately at the taste of you, as if she would die without you filling her senses.

She mouthed at you like you were a delicate fruit, spreading your lips with her tongue and tasting every inch she could. Your slick was dripping down her chin, like juice from a peach. She burrowed herself deeper in your pussy, flicking her tongue over your clit and teasing it with the tip.

Just as Scarlett begins her assault on your cunt, Matty crashes his lips onto yours, moving harshly and licking needily at the seam of your closed mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip gently, causing a gasp to fall from your mouth.

Matty seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, smirking at the feeling of you meeting him and tangling them together. He pulls back, panting, trying to catch what little breath he has. When you finally open your eyes again, he can barely see the colour of them, black pupils overtaking every inch. 

The fog surrounding you made you feel like you were underwater. All you could hear was your muffled groans and deliciously wet and sticky noses from Scarlett between your legs. Matty pulled your attention back with a cruel laugh as he brought his thumb up to your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open delicately. 

You watch as spit falls from his lips, the light catching it as it drops into your waiting mouth. A loud cry falls rips out of your chest as you swallow diligently, and Matty growls as he slams his lips back against yours, chasing the taste of himself.

Scarlett continues to devour you with a sly smirk on her face, listening to your cries muffled by Matty’s lips. He can feel the vibrations of every pretty noise you make. Part of him wants to separate so he can hear your cries, but he can't bring himself to pull away from your waiting mouth.

Eventually, his lack of oxygen means Matty drags himself away from you again, strings of spit spreading between you gleaming in the light. Matty’s lips were puffy and ruby-red from your harsh kisses. They pulled into a familiar smile as he flicked his eyes down to his girlfriend between your thighs. 

She holds his eye contact, and you can feel her smile against your core. They ignore you as they stare at each other, treating you as if you're simply there as a toy for their pleasure.

“Does that feel good, angel?” Matty asks teasingly. Just as you whimper out a response, he moves his hands down your chest, pulling and teasing your nipples. You cry weakly, squirming at the onslaught of sensations on your pebbled skin. 

The whites of your eyes are all matty can see as you whimper and moan, your jaw drops as he tugs at your tits, and it shakes as he soothes them with his palms 

Scarlett continues to consume you, fucking you with her tongue mercilessly, your sopping hole welcoming her hungrily. Each motion brought you closer to the edge, and Matty could tell by your hazy eyes and wrecked moans. But he didn't want you to cum just yet, he needed to drag this out a little longer.

With a harsh tug, he drags Scarlett out from between your thighs, a garbled moan leaves her lips, and Matty can see your wetness covering the bottom half of her face. 

You cry at the loss of sensation, but any complaints leave you when you see the image in front of you. Scarlett’s hair was a mess from your hands pulling at it needily, her eyes were hooded and you could see the remnants of her lipstick smudged over her cheeks and chin, the Ruby-woo framing her mouth beautifully.

Matty grunts at the sight and pulls her in roughly, desperately licking in her mouth and devouring her, chasing the taste of you. The musky taste fills his mouth, and they both moan needily, your slick spreading over their faces as they move their mouths together. 

You lay there helplessly as they made out above you, entranced by how fucking filthy they looked. Any orgasm that was building within you was quickly fading but you couldn't care less as you watched them in awe.

With a filthy smirk, Matty pulls away from her, flicking his eyes down to you before his grin grows even more. “Get on your hands and knees,” he orders, clicking his fingers at you. Laughing as you immediately begin to scramble, following his every demand.

“Lie down in front of her, she's gonna eat your pretty cunt now, sweetheart” Scarlett nods in a haze, moving without a second thought.

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You lap desperately at her clit, teasing it with the tip of your tongue and sucking on it hungrily. A mixture of her slick and your saliva is dripping down your chin, but all you can focus on is fucking her with your tongue.

But soon your focus is ripped away from you as you feel Matty sink into your needy pussy, you feel your walls welcome him easily, pulsing around his shaft.

Matty stands behind you and smooths his hands over your ass, watching the skin pull under his palms as he pounds into you. Jckhammering his hips as he stares in awe, studying how you desperately mouth at his girlfriend's pussy.

Every swirl of your tongue drives you crazier, the distinctly sweet taste overtakes your senses, and you can't help but eat her out like a woman starved.

The pleading whimpers falling from your lips are muffled by Scarlett's pussy, she feels the vibrations of your begging against her. With each moment the coil in her stomach is only winding tighter and tighter.

She cracked her eyes open to take in the scene in front of her, you mouthing at her between her legs and Matty pumping into you with a merciless rhythm. Part of her wishes Matty was fucking her rather than you, but she soon forgets that when you bury your tongue as deep as you can into her hole and lick her walls, chasing her g-spot greedily. She kicks her legs helplessly at the feeling, ecstasy bubbling in her gut.

Your eyes are closed in bliss as shockwaves rattle through you. Electricity is running through your veins with every thrust. You can tell you’re already nearing the edge, Scarlett's mouth having already brought you so close only minutes earlier. Warning bells go off in your head telling you to warn Matty, but the combination of his deep thrusts and her delicious cunt was dizzying, making it impossible for you to pull away.

If you didn't know better you'd think Matty was in your fucking guts, every thrust feels deeper than the last. He's brutally pumping into you, not giving you any rest before pressing himself as deep as he can inside you.

Somehow, he finds that spot inside of you with each roll of his hips, causing stars to dance across your vision whenever he buries himself inside you to the hilt. You can hear his animalistic grunts behind you every time your warm walls welcome him inside.

Beads of sweat drip from his neck down his chest pooling in his collarbones as he ruts into you, and he can feel your racing pulse in your pussy.

“That feel good angel? You like it when I fuck you this? So. Fucking. Deep.” he punctuates each word with a hard thrust, skin slapping skin and moans are all you can hear in the room, cutting through the thick, hazy air.

Scarlett feels your moans get more are more needy against her she knows you're nearing the edge. The fire pooling in your abdomen is growing too hot to ignore.

Only you can't bring yourself to pull away from her delicious nectar, moaning as you continue to eat her out furiously. Not letting her have a moment of peace, swapping between fucking her hole with your tongue and sucking on her puffy clit. Your fingers grip her thighs tightly, sliding your hands up her legs to pull apart her folds so you can drive further into her cunt. 

“She’s- f-fuck. Little slut’s about to cum. I can fucking feel her- ugh- her desperate fucking whines against my cunt.” Scarlett can't help the cry that falls from her lips when she finishes speaking, her words only driving you harder.

Matty laughs cruelly at you both, ripping his hands away from his tight grip on your hips to clasp the back of your head.

“Oh yeah? Is that right angel? You have to make her cum first before you can, sweet girl. C’mon, make her cum all over your pretty face” Matty pushes your head further into her overstimulated cunt, making you both whine and cry out powerlessly. 

Scarlett’s words seemingly do the same thing for Matty that they did to you, and you can feel his speed up even more, sinking into you feverishly. The tip of his dick massages your walls as he fucks you.

The burning in Matty's thighs is nothing but an afterthought, all he can focus on is making you feel so good that you can't help but make Scarlett cum. He wants to watch her fall apart in front of him whilst he pumps another girl full of his cum. “You're such a slut, letting us use you like a fucking sex toy. Just here for our- shit- our amusement.” he laughs wickedly at his words, and at the muffled whimper he hears from you afterwards.

Maybe it's Matty’s words or the way your tongue is driving into her mercilessly, but Scarlett finally feels the rubber band inside of her snap. With a shout, she squirts all over your face, covering you and the sheets below in her juices.

She would swear on whatever God there might be that she's never felt this fucking good, every nerve ending is on fire and she can feel a tingle from her toes all the way up to her scalp. Her legs kick helplessly as the sensation continues, dragging on for what feels like forever. 

As soon as you feel her release on your face, you can help cumming. Crying into her cunt as you fall apart around Matty’s cock. You're practically convulsing at the feeling, especially when Matty continues to fuck into you with abandon.

But you can’t pull yourself away from Scarlett, so you understand the primal need to keep going. You can feel your pulse in your head, racing as Matty continues to pound into you, the sound of your pumping blood swirling in your ears.

Matty groans and throws his head back. Your wet walls pulsing around him were almost enough to push him over the edge. But Scarlett yanking you by your hair off of her pussy and moving down until she was licking her juices off your face, all whilst holding eye contact with Matty, was the final fucking straw.

With a heavy grunt, Matty empties himself inside of you, each pulse of your walls around him milking his cock. Shockwaves gripped his body as Matty continued his shallow thrusts inside you, the slight overstimulation making his vision blur.

With a heaving chest, Matty stops moving, throwing his head back in ecstasy just as the feelings blooming within him start to dissipate. 

Scarlett flops back on the bed unceremoniously, her body aching as she lets out an airy giggle at the absurdity of what just happened. You can't help but join her, breathless giggles falling from your lips, which are only interrupted by a sharp hiss when Matty pulls out of you.

“I know, sorry angel.” Matty pouts as he speaks, but very quickly gets distracted.

“Fuck.” he whispers, watching his cum drip from your weeping hole. The pearly streams of his release fall out of you, leaving milky trails in their wake, decorating your skin beautifully.

“Come over here baby, look how fucking filthy she is” Matty waves Scarlett over and she scrambles up immediately, crawling over the bed to stare at your pussy.

She moans at the sight of her boyfriend's cum dripping out of you, she imagines the taste of him combining with the sweet taste of your cunt from earlier, and the idea makes her mouth water. 

Without a second thought, she leant forward and started lapping at your hole, cleaning you up with her tongue. You cry out at the feeling, gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, and your jaw shakes as the sensations rattle through your bones.  

“Stop,” you protest weakly, “if I cum again i think i'll die” You whimper at the feeling of Scarlett's breathy laugh against you, even the puff of hot air feels like too much.

Thankfully, she pulls away quickly, slotting her mouth against Matty’s, dripping his cum from her tongue onto his as she kisses him. He grunts at the feeling, marvelling at the taste of all three of you in his mouth.

Matty briefly thinks that this night might be one of the hottest things to ever happen to him, but his girlfriend moaning against his lips brings him back to earth.

“I'm so fucking glad I went to the club tonight,” you say as you flop forward onto the blanket, flipping over to see Matty and Scarlett sitting at the end, licking into each other's mouths with abandon.

She pulls away with a filthy smirk, eyeing Matty before turning to you and crawling over, “We are too. Turned out better than a shit porno, no?” she giggles as she quotes your words earlier in the night. You see Matty move his hand and lightly slap her ass, smirking at her weak cry. 

“Cheeky, but true. It was very nice meeting you…” Matty pauses and in that moment realises he hadn't thought to ask your name this whole night. 

You look up at him with a teasing smirk and shake your head, “Y/n. Thanks for asking, by the way,” you turn your focus to Scarlett, pressing your lips against hers with a light giggle.

“y/n, yes. Meant to ask that.” he says with a smirk, following Scarlett's lead and moving up the bed to meet the two of you.

[jazzylovegood]

LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE HEADCANON

Poly! Straw Hats x reader basically. These are just an idea for smth bigger.

I imagine being a part of the Straw Hats is difficult for the heart. Especially when they are all ATTRACTIVE.

Luffy

You will just be sitting there trying to snack on a tangerine just for Luffy to come up in front of you flashing the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. You will mention the fact that there are literal plants on board growing them and he will hit you with a:

"Yeah, but yours looks so much better."

How would you possibly be able to deny your adorable captain? You were going to hand the orange to him, but he ends up laying down on your lap. Eyes closed, mouth wide open waiting for you to feed it to him. This happens a lot and at the end he always pats your head or just stays there chilling.

Sanji

You wanted to help Sanji in the kitchen since you have always been interested in his work. You are trying your best to pay attention, but it is really hard to when he is staring over your shoulder whispering directions in your ear.

Every time you mess something up his hands come to your arms and gentle move them the correct way.

"There you go. Yeah, just like that, beautiful."

Nami

It is rare for Nami to make you feel this way since unlike the others she gives space, but when it is just girls being girls and she is running her hands through your hair helping you wash it, while scratching to make your scalp feel better. Your heart pounds.

She even helps you braid your hair (she learnt it from the Fishman). It would be very intimate and while you are trying not to explode, she will be just talking about her day and how one of the boys annoyed her.

Usopp

Usopp is an incredible storyteller he always has a group gathered around interested in a good Pirate's life. It's not how cute he is when telling the stories that ends up pulling at your heart strings. It is the he talks about you during the stories.

His use of words such as: beautiful, strong, smart, kind.

That just end up making the crowd fantasize about being friends with you and how cool you must be in battle. It is like Usopp's way of praising you.

Zoro

For Zoro I would like to imagine that in the live action they kept his goofy ass personality. You would be looking over a document or map making sure everything is still in check only for his big body to block the sunlight. He would be bending down looking over your shoulder and pointing to stuff on it asking questions in your ear.

He has no sense of personal space. He just never really sees anything wrong with any of his behavior.

Pulling you towards him by your waist, dropping an arm around your shoulder, moving you out of the way by effortlessly lifting you up by the hips, using your body to lean against when he is sitting. It is too much for your heart to handle.

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 5

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 5: digging deeper

Part Pilot | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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I stared at my reflection in the bathroom. I opened my mouth and ran my tongue, which was a little longer than usual, along my sharp teeth. The sharpest ones were my canines that slipped past my lips when resting.

I touched around the base of my horns. The skin was tight near the bottom and paler than the rest of my skin. My horns jutted up, curved down a bit, then back up to a point at the very end. I tried bending them but they were sturdy, even near the tip.

I clicked my claws together then on the counter. It felt strange to have something that felt like elongated nails. I poked my arm until I drew blood, noting how quick it took to do so. My toes also had claws. They weren't as long as my fingers but they were definitely sharper. The skin on my feet felt extremely tough, almost rubbery.

I turned off the light and sat on the cushions by the window. I rested my head on my arm and stared off into the ocean. For the first time in a long while, I tried to think back into my memories.

I was only able to get snippets, though. I could envision myself in small, specific scenes but I couldn't remember anything past my first rounds of fighting. What did my parents look like? Did they give me to the rings? Did someone kill them? Was I born in hell? How much magic did I have and what kind was it?

I had so many unanswered questions.

I met Husker for dinner again. I couldn't stop looking at my claws as I tried to go about normally. Using a fork was new; long nails made it surprisingly difficult. Husker tried not to laugh and I caught him smiling several times.

"Did you know?" I asked him.

"No. Alastor told me he thought you might be a demon but I was skeptical."

"Why?"

"Well it takes effort to have a human appearance yet you always had one when you were asleep or unconscious. Plus you only used Slight magic when we fought."

"So Alastor knew."

"It was more of a theory." The Radio Demon materialized at the end of the table. "No one had ever heard of a human and demon being soulmates." My eyes fell to my plate. I hated looking at him and I hated hearing the word soulmates. "Once you've finished we'll head back to Rosie's."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight.” He almost sounded annoyed. “She wants to unravel your curse as quickly as possible. She said something about it putting a strain on your mind." He touched a pointed claw to his lips. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Husker rolled his eyes and took a gulp of his drink. I offered to help clean the dishes but he refused. Alastor wrapped an arm around my shoulders and practically dragged me outside. I peeled his hand off and walked up to the scorched symbol on the ground. It didn't look like anything I recognized but it was always there.

He pulled me against him by my waist and stuck his cane into the ground. The ground gave way and I held my hair to my neck. We teleported to a different location this time and I soon discovered it was behind Rosie's store. The quiet town had all their indoor lights and radios turned on.

Alastor knocked twice on the glass door before it opened for him. We walked right into the same meeting room as before. Rosie was setting down a hot teapot.

"Welcome back dearies," she curtsied. "Come in come in. I just took this off the stove. You'll love it."

"I have a matter to attend to but I'm sure you'll take good care of my darling," Alastor said. My darling?

"Oh of course. Go off and do your man's work. Us ladies will get to know each other better." She hooked her arm around mine and lead me to the chair again. "I'm sure you've got lots of burning questions." This time I accepted the warm tea. "But I have to warn you sweetheart. This time, when we go back into your memories, it's going to be a lot more dangerous."

"Dangerous how?"

"If you get too wrapped up in the emotions and feelings of your memories, you can get stuck there."

"Stuck? In my own head?"

"I'm afraid so," she sipped on her tea, "When I feel you starting to fall down that rabbit hole, I'll touch your leg to let you know. When you feel me touch you, I need you to reel your emotions back in. Do you think you can do that? If not, there's no shame in waiting for tomorrow.”

"No," I said quickly, "I'll be okay. I can do this."

"I believe you. Now. Let's begin."

She sat beside me on the stool and took my hands in hers. I stared down at my black claws as she asked me to go back in time. I closed my eyes and skipped through my teenage-hood and into my early childhood. I tried to push away the sinking sadness of my first friend's death.

"What did your first master look like?" Rosie asked.

"I know he had white hair. Long, white hair. He always had a scowl on his face and he dragged me around."

"What about your very first fight?"

"I was...I was against another kid. Another girl. She had short brown hair and looked...inhuman."

"Inhuman, how?"

"She...her eyes...they were red and...she just looked insane. Her hair was all matted and she was down on all fours. She was drooling a lot too. I remember she...she ran after me and started clawing and biting my arms. She went for my face and I shoved her off. She chased me in circles around the ring. I can still hear all the men cheering above. They were laughing."

"What did you do?"

"I uh...I grew tired and she eventually caught up to me. She grabbed my foot then went for my face. I don't remember much but I...I remember kicking her off then kicking her head. It bounced off the walls and then she didn't get up after that."

"When did you start to learn how to use magic?"

I paused for a moment. “I…I had a master before him? He…he was the one who taught me. Every so often he would come back during the day and take me into the ring. He showed me how to use it. First it was with wind. He told me to throw sand and dirt in my opponents' faces."

"What else did he teach you?"

"He taught me...how to use my sweat as a weapon...how to pull apart the earth so their foot would get stuck or so that they would trip...he taught me a lot."

"Did you warm up to him?"

"When he was teaching me I was happy. I loved learning how to use my magic. And he praised me all the time when I did well. Eventually he stopped being rough with me. It felt like...like he cared about me."

"But?"

"But..." I felt my heart sink with sadness. "But...he...gave me up...to someone not nice."

"Do you know why?"

"Yeah...he was...apparently just someone who trained children in basic magic then...then sold them off to the highest bidder. I was...I was so angry at him...I thought I was going to make him proud and live to be set free but...but I was nothing to him."

"Very good. Now, what can you tell me about when you first met him? When you first saw his white hair?"

I paused. "I remember...I remember looking up at him. He was such a tall man. I was holding someone's hand but I can't...I can't see their face."

"It's okay, don't push it. Tell me about the hand you're holding. What does it feel like?"

"Soft. But...tough? It's definitely tight."

"Good what about-"

"No. Wait...there was another man with white hair. But his...his was shorter."

"Tell me about him. Where were you?"

"I was...I was in a cage. I was...with someone. I remember seeing him come to the cage often. I was...the person I'm with would always get tense when he did. Why can't I see this person's face?"

"It's okay. Take your time. Tell me what this person is wearing."

"A short sleeve. Her skin is...covered in scars and bruises. She's...she's always stroking my hair."

"What else does she do?"

"She...she hums a lot. There's a small radio in the corner and she hums to it a lot. And...I can feel it in her chest when does. She rocks me back and forth until I fall asleep." I suddenly grew very sad and angry. My hands tightened and my hair on the back of my neck stood up.

"What is it, doll? What's happening?"

"He's...the man...he's wearing a white suite...exactly the color of his hair...and he's yelling with her. They're fighting. There's yelling. He hits her. She's arguing back but not fighting. Why won't she fight?"

"Stay with me dear." She touched my lap. I tried to lower my tense shoulders but it was hard.

"He picked me up and...he closed the door on her. She's screaming. Why is she screaming? Why is he taking me away from her? I can't...I can't reach her. I don't...where is he taking me? I don't want to leave her."

"Enough sweetheart, come back. Come out of the memory." She touched my shoulder this time. "Come back to my store. Come back to this world. It's all just a memory."

"I can't stop crying. Why...is that my mother?"

"Sweetheart, you need to come back. You're going in too deep. Stop the emotions."

"But...I want to see her."

"We'll look next time. We can come back next time but you need to take a break. Come out of the memory. Come back to the store. Blink twice and look up."

I stared at the figure reaching out to me through the bars. I was so close. I just wanted to touch her hand one more time. But it was just a memory. She wasn't really there. She might not even be alive at all.

I blinked twice and looked up to meet Rosie's dark eyes. She let out a huge sigh and patted me on the head. "That was a little too close for comfort."

I felt something brush against my leg. I looked down to see a black tail that ran all the way to my back. I stood up and spun around in an effort to look at it. I felt something pulling on my back and realized I had a pair of black wings to go with it.

"What the..." The black on my hands had stretched all the way down to my elbow now. I found the closest mirror and noticed a pair of long ears sticking up from my human ones. Was I a type of dragon?

"I see you're making lots of progress." Alastor's staticky voice cut through the silence.

"Quite a lot, actually," Rosie answered. "I must say, you sure got lucky, Alastor. She looks like she's got a lot hidden away in her."

"Which is why you're the perfect person to help pull it all into the light."

"How do I hide them?" I asked Rosie, still turning in circles to look at myself.

"Oh, uh..." she tapped her sharp finger to her sharp teeth.

"Picture them receding into your back," Alastor answered. I grimaced at the thought of listening to him but gave it a try. The tail shivered but did nothing.

"I'm sure it'll take getting used to," Rosie reassured me. "But I'm sure you're absolutely exhausted. You should go home and get some rest. We can figure out more later."

"Good idea," Alastor agreed. "Come along, darling." He put his hand on my back but I pushed it off. I thanked Rosie and walked out of her store, my wings hitting the edges on the way out.

"So, what did you learn?" he asked as he shut the door.

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious is all."

"You can stay that way," I mumbled. He grabbed my waist and sent us back to the cliff side manor. As soon as my feet touched solid ground, I pushed his hand off and walked inside. My wings hit anything and everything, frustrating me even more.

"Whoah, ain't you something," Husker commented from the sitting room. I didn't respond, clambering up to my room and locking the door behind me. My legs buckled and I collapsed onto the floor. I sobbed into my arms as the new memories replayed themselves in my mind.

Who am I?

[bruh-2004]

This has been in my mind all day but the thought of xh seventh member saying she could identify others with her eyes closed leaving the boys curious if she could guess who's fucking her with a blindfold, if she gets it correct she can cum

"I'm serious, I can guess people with my eyes closed super easily" - You say, looking at the boys sitting on the couch.

"Oh, come on! It looks like you can hit everyone!" - Gaon says crossing his arms."

You end up getting into a small argument, until O.de catches your attention, he joins the boys and they talk about something making you a little curious, after a few minutes they look at you and you notice their naughty smile on O.de, Gaon and Jooyeon's face.

"Alright... since you swear to achieve this... could you guess which one of us would be fucking you while your eyes were blindfolded?" - O.de asks, approaching you, placing his hands on his waist and bending down to be at your height.

"Yes... of course yes! It wouldn't be difficult to recognize your touch" - You speak with a confident air, but deep down you're not so sure about it.

"So what else are we waiting for? Let's see if this bitch knows how to tell the truth or if she only knows how to lie to get fucked" - Jooyeon's speech hit you hard, making you want to run to the room and get fucked by them.

From then on, you went to the room and started with the "fun", they left you without your clothes and only lowered the lower parts, Jungsu took a blindfold and placed it on your face, letting you see everything black.

"Well, let's see if you really know how to differentiate people, if you make a mistake you won't be able to cum, now if you get it right..." - You shivered at the deep voice that Gunil made in your ear.

Your body was laid on the bed, you felt one of them hold your legs and leave them open, you felt the dick brush against your entrance and you moaned softly, then you felt the dick being introduced slowly and you already had an idea of ​​who the girl could be person you smiled convinced. The boy started to stimulate you slowly, without putting so much force and you smiled more.

"It's Jungsu... I'm sure... He's the only one who fucks me like that..." - You say between moans and hear the boys giggling.

"Wrong answer, kitten" - Jungsu's voice could be heard a little further away from the bed, you felt confused, the boy increased the stimuli, entering and exiting your pussy more firmly, you moaned something.

"You have two more chances to get it right, princess" - O.de said, even without seeing him you knew he was having fun with this.

You focused on feeling the thrusts for a few minutes, feeling the dick going deep into your pussy and without so much strength, you bit your lip holding back the urge to cum and spoke up, having an idea of ​​who it could be.

"By the rhythm of the thrusts... It's Jooyeon" - The boys laugh again, the person who was fucking you lets out a chuckle and you almost managed to hear and find out who it was, but only almost.

"And since when have I fucked you like this? I like to go hard, you know... Or are you stupid with a dick in your pussy?" - Automatically, his speech made you contract, making the boy who fucked you moan softly.

"Last chance... It's better to get it right if you want to cum" - Gaon says and you felt more determined to get it right, focusing on the thrusts and reasoning that they could have arranged to confuse you.

You remained silent, focusing on (and enjoying) the thrusts, the boy was going harder now, thrusting with a certain speed and depth making you feel an immense desire to cum, you held on for as long as possible.

If it was a normal fuck in your routine, you would definitely say it was Gunil, but you thought about it and only one person crossed your mind, decidedly you spoke up between moans.

"I already know... You did it on purpose to confuse me, didn't you? But I already know... It's Junhan" - You moaned his name and heard him moan too, knowing for sure now.

"Wow... Congratulations, you got it right" - O.de said and you smiled.

"But she lied anyway, she didn't get it right the first time and she swore she could... Lying bitch" - Jooyeon said letting out an ironic laugh and you became more excited by his speech, moaning loudly.

"I got it right, now please... Let me cum, I can't hold back any longer..." - It was silent for a few minutes, until Junhan finally spoke.

"We're going to be nice to you, and I'm not going to last so long with you squeezing me like that... Come for us, get your reward."

Having given the freedom and feeling Junhan fuck you with all the force he could exert, you let the peak come, moaning loudly and squeezing your own breasts, soon feeling Junhan fill you deep inside.

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 25. Alex SDV (Gridball Pro AU)

— ✧ warnings: Gridball Pro AU, Hook Up, Kissing, drool, saliva, fuck buddies, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, boys being boys (you know the banter), Creampie — ✧ word count: 2,985

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Before the closet door is even locked behind you, his lips are back on yours. A veritable frenzy of greedy hands tugging at your waist, quickly digging under your shirt to tug on your tits for only a few seconds before frustration settles thick on his tongue that's currently down your throat. Fuckin' bra in the way, he seethes to himself, brows knitting together in an attempt to remain focused enough to bring his attention to unclasping your bra, and not on the way his hard cock rubs so nicely against your front, his knees bending a little behind every thrust as if he were actually inside that warm little cunt he loves oh so dearly. Soon, he reasons with his cock, but first things first.

Pumped up from your practice session mere minutes ago, the veins in his arms pop from the amount of strain he has to exert in taking his time with you, to fully enjoy the small slice of time between now and someone questioning his disappearance. There's a small thrill in being somewhere you ought not to be though, right? Tucked away in a secluded corner for only the most nefarious of reasons, his cock already wet enough just from a little dry humping. Working his hands around to your back, still yet kissing and sucking on your tongue, a couple drops of saliva dripping from his chin from how fervent his efforts are. It's just that he can't help himself when it comes to you, a cheeky smirk on his face at the way you struggle to breathe even now; can't handle a little heated kiss, baby? Not that he's any better, humping his fat cock against your tummy out of sheer desperation, an instinctual need to be inside of you as soon as possible; lest he wastes a load all inside his pants. It wouldn't be the first time, anyway.

Only, it's a little difficult to unhook your bra with the way you're squirming against him, but he gets there. Eventually. Immediately pulling your shirt up once your bra falls from your back, begrudgingly withdrawing his tongue from your mouth to help drag your top over your head. You're not left lonely for long, though. Returning as soon as he can to suck on your tongue when you're left bare, allowing you just enough space and no more to wiggle your bra completely off your arms before his big open palm is grabbing at your tits. Squeezing and tugging, rolling a nipple between his fingers just to have you moaning down his throat. He's almost territorial with his touch, heart hurting at the pretty mewls his fingers pinch out of you. He can barely catch a breath himself from how eagerly he makes out with you too, spit pooling in his mouth as he presses his body closer to yours, accidentally knocking your head against the closet door in the process— but there's no time to apologise. Not when the hand on your hip pulls you towards him, allowing him greater surface to hump his precum coated cock on, the fabric of his shorts surely see through by now from how much he wants you; how much he needs you, evident from how messily and loudly he kisses you. Relentless, he is. So easy for you, so completely fraught with insatiable hunger to make you his that he doesn't have time to do anything other than show you.

And it's so incredibly hot, he thinks. How only recently he was laughing and joking with his teammates, doing his best to take part in your rigorous training regime to the best of his ability. You always work him so hard, don't you? Harder than the rest he muses to himself, because you know just how badly he wants to prove himself to you. Both on and off field, fuck, it's so hot to him that unbeknownst to those very same men you just trained, you picked him. It's him that's about to mark your insides as his, pulling you away from the crowd and into relative privacy to thank you personally for all the hard work you offer him and his boys. Leaving you gasping for air as he moves his mouth down to your tits, easily lifting you mid air so that you're forced to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, allowing him to buck his needy cock against your hidden cunt a little easier. Sucking and lapping at your pinched nipple, readily supporting your weight with two hands cupping your ass. Which he doesn't miss the opportunity to squeeze at, angling his hips so that his cock head ruts right against your hole despite the cloth barrier.

"Fuck," He curses low, mindful of his volume so as to not get caught with his pants down soon enough. "Been waitin' all day fr'this." He huffs against your tits, hiding his face in the fat of them to keep his voice muffled, drooling all over your nipple before moving to the other one to suckle on. He wants to treat you so well in the short amount of time he has with you tonight, because you deserve it and more; especially considering that you've picked him to treat you well like this. He intends on not taking you for granted, offering you all of himself to try and convince you of his worth. Every flick of his tongue over your nipple communicates see me more, please. Every hump of his tip mimicking the act of sex itself against your clothed cunt is his way of begging just one chance, promise it's all it'd take. Seeking your comfort outside of the barren four walls the practice room provides, his chest tight at the thought of taking you out on a date; cock twitching at the realisation that he's went about this whole situationship in the wrong order. Date, then fuck, right? And yet here he is, popping off of your tits only to give you a quick peck on the lips, expression almost pained from how difficult it is for him to hold back for you. Would that he could pound you right against the closet door, so hard that it shakes under the weight of his thrusts, but he'd like to remain as anonymous as possible. If only so that you can both keep your jobs, knowing that workplace relations are strictly off limits.

But fuck, can anyone blame him when he eagerly lets you down, helping you tug your sticky shorts and panties off only so that he can swiftly follow and match you in your state of undress, clothes haphazardly thrown... somewhere, shit, he can't think straight when your pretty body is right fucking there. Your chest heaving for him, little cunt hidden between your thighs until he lifts you up again, the throb of his cock pressed against your slit coaxing you into bucking his hips towards him in such a honest way that a moan involuntarily slips from his kiss bruised lips. Surely, everyone would understand, right? They'd get why he can't help but to grope at the fat of your ass, sinking his greedy fingers into the plush beneath, keeping his cock dangerously close to entering your hole only to tease you the same way you so easily rile him up. If he has to suffer, then so do you; time be damned. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he bends over you, placing you in a more laid down position mid air as he takes a few careful steps back, not wanting to bump into anything himself, or accidentally knock you around. He may be big— in all respects, yeah?— but he's not so clumsy. Not yet, doing his best to keep his wits about him. Letting his tip drool all over your pretty cunt anyway, catching a glimpse of it as he hovers over you, the feeling of your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten his neck for stability has him choking on thin fucking air in desperation. A quick peek down at your pretty face in a seeking of consent is all it takes before he prepares to shove his full fat cock into your tight little hole and— yeah...

Ain't no one would blame him for indulging in you, right? The pretty fitness trainer who pushes everyone to their limits, tight fucking body between his big hands for him to play with. Anyone would be champing at the bit to even have a chance with you, never mind to be rubbing noses with you in an abandoned closet, skin on skin contact driving him near breaking point when you writhe in his hold so cutely.

"May I?" He whispers, cocky smirk on his lips when he already knows your answer, but it's so fucking hot seeing you meekly nod back at him like that. Stroking his ego just so well, dragging your ass up a little so that his leaking tip can catch on your twitchy hole and— ah, fuck... He's lost count of how many times he's fucked you in private like this, but every single time feels like the first again. Fighting with his inner wants to immediately rut into you, chewing on his bottom lip to suppress all the filthy praise he wants to spill for you; gotta be quiet, remember?

Though, even as he slowly glides his cock into your slicked up hole, stretching you out to fit his shape, making you feel every inch of his girth as lazily as possible— little cunt already squelching around his fat intrusion, huh?— it's already difficult to remain quiet. It's like you want to be caught, fuck, wouldn't that be so hot? To be balls deep in your sought after hole, fucking out every moan that falls from your pretty lips for everyone to hear? It's a fantasy he fucks his fist to late at night when you're not around, to claim you so publicly, let everyone know that he's taken. God, with every inch he fucks into you, he hopes that you feel the same way. Did you know that you're the only girl he fucks around with? Can't stand the thought of anyone else squirming on his tip, the thought of some stranger moaning his name filling him with distaste. Only you. Especially when you're clinging to him so much, relying on the strength that you've trained into him to keep you steady.

And he doesn't intend on letting you down. Huffing in your scent when he's finally fully sheathed, balls resting against your sticky ass as he wraps the arm around your upper back tighter, keeping you safe and sound, and most importantly— impaled on his cock. He knows how big he is, not wanting to hurt you as much as possible; but he's limited to what he can do before his secret session becomes known.

"'M sorry..." He grunts against you, wincing at the tight suck of your cunt along his length as he draws his hips back, enough to leave just the tip inside before thrusting forward unfairly. Not all the way, making sure his balls don't slap back against you despite knowing that you love that sound, he just doesn't want to make it easy for others to find you looking so pretty under him like that. A primal urge building in his tummy to keep you as his own. Keeping that brutal pace up with consistent fast thrusts, never fully filling you up despite his urgent want to do just that— he cares too much for you and your career to sabotage it with his selfish lust fueled needs.

The power imbalance, he assumes. That's why it'd be such an issue if he was found buried deep in your perfect pussy, drooling all over your neck from how fucking good you feel wrapped around him like that, the suck of your cunt every time he pulls his hips back just coaxing him closer, begging to be fucked deeper. And oh, pretty girl, he so badly wishes he could. Wants more than anything to leave you sobbing on his lap.

Who holds the power, do you think? You, with authority over him in a professional sense, or him, driving his cock into your wet little cunt over and over again, causing your slick to gush out with every thrust around his sheer girth and down your ass cheeks— who is more in control? Who would get more in trouble, your muted moans begging for his rough treatment, of which he willingly gives in to. Perhaps a bit more than what you're asking for, if he's honest with himself. Hunched over you like a fucking dog, driving his hips against your own at such a pace that he struggles to keep up with himself, sweat trickling on his forehead like in practice to drip down to your cheeks. To place blame on you would be a shame, he thinks, considering the way you're biting on his shoulder right now to withhold your moans, legs trembling around his waist when he fucks you firmly to his pelvis, holding you there to selfishly circle his cock inside of you in an effort to praise. Doing so good, you feel so good around me baby, it's not your fault. You shouldn't get in trouble for feeling good, I promise. You're not doing anything wrong.

"C'mon," He coaxes you, knowing smile pressed against your neck as he helps you grind against him, puffy little clit treated to his torso to hump against, muscles taut and trained under your warm heat for your enjoyment. "Make me proud, yeah? Wanna feel y'cream, been so long, babe—" He moans a little more openly, just a little louder, hoping to encourage you into making him feel good with your squishy little cunt convulsing around his throbbing cock. S'all he ever wants, really. If he's not inside of you, he's thinking about fucking you into next week, balls full of seed just for you. And even if he's lying about how long it's been, recalling how he was filling you up just a couple days ago after his teams big win; it feels like for fucking ever ago— how badly he wants to be buried balls deep in your warm cunt always.

Doubling his efforts, still squeezing your body to his about as well as your cunt squeezes his cock, he offers you miniscule little humps. Attempting to fuck his drooling tip deeper if it were at all possible, seeking only to make you feel as good as you make him feel. But he accidentally knocks something over in his overzealous actions, fuck— he doesn't know what, too busy humping you against his fit body faster now in fear of getting caught— someone surely heard that bang, right? Jaw tight, panting against your neck, doing all the work for you, he figures fuck it, right? If he's already been found out, he might as well go all the way. Slamming his hips into your with such fervour that a couple more items fall around him, fucking into you like his life depends on it, like he'll never be able to feel that tight fucking cunt spasm around him ever again as his instincts take over with the way he intends to mark your insides white; a ward against others from touching you. Wet skin on skin slaps around the tiny space he's got you cramped in, thrusting selfishly enough to feel your insides wrap ever tighter around him, milking your pretty pussy for his own selfish gain when the growing tight fit prompts his own orgasm to follow. Dumping a fat load as deep as he can when he can't seem to stop fucking himself stupid through the good feeling. Dumb smile plastered on his face as his nails dig into you for purchase, an innate need to remind you of who makes you feel like this, yeah? Of who's filling you up right now, keeping you in place to make sure that your little cunt takes all of his affections, mumbling a repeat of your name to let you know that he's thankful to be given this opportunity with you. Holding you close to squeeze lovingly at.

And even as the closet door swings open— he's at least got you pressed so tight against him that all your sensitive parts are hidden to all but him. Partly because he doesn't want to embarrass you, but also because he's selfish, and he's determined to make you solely his. Willing to throw away all that he's tried to strive for for so long if he can't talk his way out of manhandling you right now, blurry eyes blinking a few times to meet the eyes of his voyeur.

"Wow... No way, man! Alex!" Oh, it's just a teammate, his fucked out expression turning to a soft smile at the familiar voice. Though he doesn't dare respond back right now, shifting your weight around in his hands now that he's completely spent, a few drops of cum trickling down his length for him to wince at. Familiarity is good, he knows how much the boys want you, too. "Wondered where ya went," his teammate laughs, and Alex nods his thanks towards him when he gently closes the door, leaving just a crack open for some final words before the familiar lock rings in his ears.

"So fuckin' lucky, man. Have your fun, I'll tell the boys you've gone home or something."

All things considered, things could have went worse, right? Letting out a light chuckle when he's left alone with you again, instinctively nuzzle against your cheek as thanks.

"Bout time we found somewhere else to meet, dont'cha think?" He hums idly, helping you off his cock to sort yourself out.

[wndaswife]

I need sub!stepmom!wanda in my life it would cure every problem of mine😭

lemme feed your brainrot 🤲🏼 bc that’s what good fellow wanda stans do

subby stepmom wanda is so ready to serve you whenever you’re home. she has meals made for you when you’re back from classes as she keeps a calendar filled with your schedules and little else in the kitchen where she can see it, checks it religiously and always asks you to let her know what you have planned so she’s home when you are and she has things ready for you

she makes your bed when you’re away, and you sometimes find her dozing off under your blankets when you come back home during some of her particularly stressful days. you strip yourself of your layers of clothes before slipping in beside her, pulling her into your arms and kissing her face awake while she sleepily asks you how your day’s been

she loves hosting for your friends, always eager to make a good impression and make you happy

despite her generosity and thoughtfulness, subby stepmom wanda is sometimes much too clingy, and on hard days, it becomes quite overbearing. you’ve discussed the issue with her many times before, but it’s pretty difficult for her to avoid clinging onto you whenever you’re at home- inviting you to sit with her every time you pass her watching television on the couch, being extremely touchy while doing the simplest of tasks like placing a plate of food she’s made for you in the placement in front of you (in which she often likes to run her hands down your arms and press kisses down your neck), and notably a habit she has where she likes to plop herself down on your lap no matter what you’re doing, which gets you quite frustrated when she has zero consideration for your online classes and meetings

when i say she’s ready to serve you, i mean she’s ready to serve you in every way possible. she often avoids wearing panties so you’re able to do whatever you wanted with her pussy at any point (pull her down onto your lap and making her take the entirety of your cock in one swift tug of her hips, or force your fingers into her pussy while she’s cooking, etc). on certain days where you’re stressed out from school or simply angry, wanda’s ready to bend over and hike her skirt up to her waist, her ass stuck up in the air for you to fuck.

she really will try anything with you as long as it makes you happy, taking as many harsh pulls of her hair as you arched her back and slammed your hips down against her raw-beaten ass. she’ll let you spank her until her ass is red and purple, slap her across the face until she’s a crying, wailing mess.

wanda loVES aftercare. she loves being cuddled up by you, her broken abused body laying within your strong arms. she loves when you wash her hair from your spit and cum. she loves when you call her a good, well-behaved girl for how many slaps she took across the face and against her puffy reddened pussy

overall, she just really loves to make you happy, would sincerely work twenty-four hours a day to achieve it. (and she’s a bit of a masochist, and truly does love when you call her a dirty cockwhore, loves when you spank her pussy when she’s been a bad girl, loves it for more reasons than because it makes you happy to see her all bruised and trembling)

[thecameronchronicles]

First Impression 2: Second Impression

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: The first day of filming your new movie with Drew begins as you struggle to remain professional. 

WORD COUNT: 2000

*Requested*

Second Impression

The first few scenes with Drew were a contrast to your first interaction. While on set, wearing the facade of his character, he hadn’t done anything beyond delivering his lines to precision. Because of this, you were able to produce your own without finding the distraction you had when you’d met a few days prior. But even if his eyes didn’t linger or his fingers didn’t make an excuse to cross that line of professionalism, you could sense a tension that was enough to distract you between takes. Your eyes continued to find him from across the set as he asked for notes from producers while your makeup and hair was manipulated by the talented hands of the crew, before you’d come to the most dreaded scene of the day. 

The first sex scene. 

But the reasons in which you loathed it were not from anger or upset, but in fear of being lost in him as you knew how easily you had with less than an hour of knowing him and how desperate you had become for his touch. And it didn’t help with the fact that he’d acted as if what transpired at that red carpet was simply a figment of your imagination. At least he had until you stepped upon your mark in preparation of the scene, his lips finding your ear from the towering position he’d have to bend to in order to make it possible. 

“You’re killing me, sweetheart…” He explained, his breath low but his smile heard through his words as you turned to face him just enough to verify this. 

“Really? Because this is the first time you’ve said anything to me that wasn’t scripted.” You spouted back, his brows rising in approval to how you weren’t just some acquiescent pretty face. 

“You’re too distracting.” You rolled your eyes before feeling his hand suddenly snake around your waist. 

“If I looked at you…got too close to you…everyone here would be making a porno instead of a respectable film…” Your eyes rolled closed at the thought of your moments with him captured on camera-something you kept from thinking of until now, well aware it would only prove to be a professional downfall. And yet, his touch was electric and existed in such a way that made you want to be reckless and bold. 

“But you are going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” You nodded. 

“It’s only fair-” Before he could respond, you were summoned to begin with the expected ‘action’, pulling him away from you. 

The prelude to your moment would begin with useless words used only as filler to your erotic exchange, your subconscious counting down to when you could feel him against you once again. It was a thought that hadn’t left your mind since you parted a few days prior, haunting you at every second, whether asleep or awake, as you’d relive the way he’d brought you to that release in record time. 

Just a second before his character was set to kiss you, he’d offer you a rise of his brow as if to challenge, or even warn you, before he’d make the distance to collect you. Allowed the chance to feel his lips press to you again, you now left quite a display for those around, ignoring how they whispered and blushed to the passion behind your thespian talents. It was an exchange that appeared more of a loosely choreographed dance with fingers running the lines of one another’s figures and tongues sharing that same orchestration for dominance as it appeared as if you were more method actors than you’d ever considered prior to now. 

In tune with the moment, you would be lifted onto the bed and made weightless, a growl leaving his lips that returned you to that night within the alleyway. 

“Drew…” You breathed, lost in the moment as you’d lost all sense of competence in your craft as his tongue, his taste, his entire persona swallowed you whole.

“Sweetheart…Gotta stay professional-” He spoke into your neck, neither of you worried for the boom stick set to pick up every utterance for the film. 

“Fuck…” He breathed out in a struggle against his own words as you rolled your hips up into him. Luckily for the two of you, every action and word leaving believability for your characters in what was otherwise reality to those witnessing each motion. The reality of them observing you was not lost on you, however, but only seemed to add to the exhilaration when you continued to feel lost against him. 

His fingers wrapped rather angrily within your hair, taking you backwards until he could kiss along your jaw, his digits making quick work of your costume until your lingerie was revealed to him. A wicked grin formed behind his breathlessness as he slipped his hand between your legs, angling himself to keep those from behind the cameras to realize that he had actually made contact with you. 

“Drew…” You warned as he moved back to your neck to speak unheard by those nearby. 

“Gotta be a good girl…” Your eyes pulled into a roll as he quickly set his hand along your cheek, a soft exchange for a kiss that was anything but. 

“How are you gonna explain THIS to the costume department?” He asked while touching between your thighs, your fingers wrapping tightly into the exposed skin of his arms. 

“Please-” You whimpered as muffled voices sounded away from you, suddenly drawing Drew’s attention elsewhere. The only focus you had was on his voice, informing you of the conversation having taken place despite your attention set to him. 

“I think you’re right, we need to run our lines a bit…” Drew acknowledged before helping you up from the bed and back to your feet, a blush prominent yet ignored, as he led his way off of the sound stage. 

“We’ll take an early lunch and be back first thing after noon-” The director announced as you fought bouncing on the balls of your feet from excitement as Drew pulled you via interlaced fingers, until you came to the door of his trailer. 

The second the door came closed, he was wrapped around you, tongues and fingers both gluttonous with mutual need as you panted in the breaks of each kiss as he led you against the table now at your back. 

“This is only the first day and I can’t keep goddamn hands to myself…You’re gonna make this difficult, aren’t you?” He questioned as you couldn’t fight your smirk as he led a string of kisses down your neck, now pulling at your costume in the freedom to do so without witnesses or judgment. 

“Maybe if we acted on it instead of fighting it, it would make those scenes a bit easier-”

“I could fuck you before and after every scene and I’ll still have trouble focusing. But for right now…” You were spun around, palms set before you as he removed your bottoms until you were bare from the waist down. 

“I told you last time that the next time you could scream…And I’m a man of my word-” But as you expected to find him to thrust into you, he had instead moved onto his knees. 

“Bend over for me baby.” You obliged, fingers wrapping around the edge of the surface now supporting you, as he grinned just prior to the long strips made by his tongue. 

“Still so sweet…” He muttered between licks that quickly transformed into wicked flicks of his tongue. 

“God, you taste so fucking good-better than anything from craft services-” He smirked as you moaned out his name, his sensual tone only adding to your arousal. 

“Please!” You whimpered as he paused his moments to turn you to face him, pushing you against the counter. 

“I’m gonna make you come so you can focus enough to get these scenes filmed, alright?” He explained as your breathing hitched in reaction to his words. 

“Oh my God…” You groaned more pitiful than you hoped it’d emerge, but enough to draw a smirk from his lips before he’d return to his accelerated kitty-licks to your aching clit. 

“Fuck, Drew…”

“Mmm-hmmm…feel good for me, baby-ride my face ‘til you come, sweetheart.” He deepened your pleasure by slipping his middle finger inside of you, an easy and swift penetration allowed from just how he’d excited you.

“Two fingers if I remember right?”, He scoffed at his own words, “Like I could ever fucking forget this pussy?” He laughed into you as his commentary teased you beyond what you could handle. 

“Please Drew!” You groaned, your hands running over the short cut of his hair that tickled your palm, sending a new sensation in contrast to the immediate pleasure against your sex. 

“You wanna come?” You nodded, whimpering as he raised from you, curling his fingers as he continued, “Then come.” You belted out a series of unexplainable sounds somewhere between whimpers and groans. 

“Come on my face, baby… I want you to taste it when we’re filming again…so you can see what the fuck I have to deal with in how sweet you are-” Your eyes rolled as you began to buckle against him, his hold around your thigh tightening as his dominant hand continued to piston into you at an acceleration only increased. 

“Drew!”

“So good baby, so fucking good-” He groaned into you, the vibrations deepening that pull of a release that he carried from you in a silent orgasm only verified by the pulsation you set around his fingers. But at the very second you’d feel the satisfaction claim your body, he was suddenly inside of you. 

“Shit-” He extended behind his breath. 

“Gotta make this quick, sweetheart-” You nodded, the overstimulation of his fullness sending you to recline against him as he was quick to appreciate your figure in a way he couldn’t in your first time due to that dress. 

“You’re so perfect-” He spoke into your neck as his fingers pinched your naked breasts, revealed against his hand by the swift motions of that very ambition as his second hand lowered to your clit. 

“Got another one in ya?”

“Drew…I-”

“I know…but it’s gonna feel so good-I’m gonna make it feel so good for you baby…just let go for me-SHIT!” He groaned. 

“I want you to come with me this time…Come on, sweetheart…fuck me back until you feel it for me.” You obeyed, hips meeting his and finding a new rhythm as he was suddenly set at an ungodly pace. 

“YES!” He drew out beneath his own breathlessness as you’d begin to clench around him. 

“Yes baby, that’s it…Keep going…just like that…Fuck! Let me hear you…Good girl…” He endorsed, fingers moving even faster. 

“Think this will make you behave, being overstimulated now? Or do I need to take you on the wall too?”

“Everywhere!” Your desperation left you feral as he nodded, hand to the back of your neck as he forced you to commit your attention to him. 

“I don't want to hear you come for the first time on camera…I’ve already seen how your face twists in that release…now let me hear you, sweetheart.” His motions were painfully erotic; deep and thorough, sloppy and quick, as you mirrored his moans and climb to an orgasm reached at the crux of mutual pleasure. That desired series of whimpers and moans he summoned were now hung in the air as evidence of this satisfaction.

“Fuck!” he belted in that final moment, the most delicious sensation of that release leading him to finally release into you. 

“How am I going to get through a year of this?”

“LOTS of practice…” You teased. 

“Now that that’s out of your system, can you two come back to set?!” A producer called from the opposite side of the trailer door as you couldn't fight your smirk. This was going to be the most difficult job you’d ever have..but also the most enjoyable…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @magnificantmermaid @penny4yourthoughts @pickingviolets

[kiasnocturnality]

⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒖

⊹ ° . tips: be sure to only begin your play-through from the main menu. Your choices have consequences and will unlock different scenes and endings.

Your priority now is to get out as fast as possible. Whoever is here is trying to trap you and dines on blood. You don’t fancy being tonight’s dessert. The corridors are well-lit at least and you make your way through various bends, statues and portraits and floral arrangements passing you by. You’d stop to appreciate the beauty of the place if only your life weren’t in danger. You reach the end of the corridor and find yourself in a study. There’s a large bookcase on one wall and the lights are off in this room so it’s very difficult to see. You squint in the darkness and can see a desk that looks out of place and messy in this immaculate manor.

There’s a glint from the wall just beside it, however, and you slowly approach it to find the smallest of handles fixed to the door. You reach out and feel over the patterned wallpaper and feel a seam and so your fingers curl into the handle and push. A latch clicks and the door opens up, a chilly air running over your skin. Electric lights flicker in long beams along the low ceiling, a low and faint buzz coming from them. It’s a servants’ corridor. You can remember seeing one of these in a period drama a few years ago, the scene all but lost to your memory until now. Servants have to deal with all the comings and goings, no? Surely this will lead you to a door to the outside. 

You make your way inside and hastily follow the twists and turns, conscious that you’re being followed while walking past many handles on the walls that can only lead out to more secret entrances. But you’re on the lookout for a real door, one that will lead to a servant’s room which will hopefully have an exit from the manor. As predicted, you find a real door with a frame around it and, surely enough, you come out into the kitchen and find another set of double doors. There’s no one to be seen and only the light from the servants’ corridor dimly illuminates the room as your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. You run over to the doors and pull on them, then push, but they don’t budge. 

“Stop right there.” 

You whip around and face a tall, slender figure. She’s –  no, you catch a glimpse of a masculine chest beneath an open button-down – he’s beautiful. High cheeks, bright glacier blue eyes, full lips, white hair spilling down his shoulders and to his waist. He wears fitted black trousers and an open pale blue shirt that only highlights how pale he is. His long lashes and eyebrows are as long as his hair. He’s as pale and radiant as one of the many pallid portraits you walked past in the corridor on your way here. 

ᥫ᭡⋆ :₊ You stay put. “Who are you? Why didn’t you answer when I called out?”  ᥫ᭡⋆ :₊ You stop and stare in awe for a moment. He’s beautiful but also the one trapping you here. You stay silent. 

[chaoscharme]

Corporate Chic

How to dress well for young corporate fashion girlies

Disclaimer, this post is aimed at women and feminine people in the corporate world, but these tips can apply for anybody regardless of gender expression <3

1. Covering up vs stripping down

It can be difficult for young people to find a comfortable balance between their workwear and their personal style. The average young person may struggle to adapt their own oversized, cropped, baggy or revealing clothes to suit the needs of a professional work ensemble. The easiest way to do this is to create boundaries for your work clothes, and stick to them as much as possible.

Personally I like to keep my boundaries at three separate points, sleeves, skirts, stomach. I never wear sleeveless clothing, and my minimum sleeve boundary is a thick tank sleeve. My skirts are generally just above the knee, and never shorter than my fingertips. This makes me feel more comfortable when sitting, bending, or crouching down at work. My torso is covered at all times while at work, and generally this is the norm for office wear. I like to wear clothing that meets or overlaps in the middle to ensure that I feel comfortable and appropriate at all times.

2. Necklines, cuffs and waistbands

When choosing necklines for work clothing, try to limit the amount of skin shown for a more professional look. I recommend trying turtlenecks, round necks, boat necks or a shallow v-neck for best results. When wearing button downs, never unbutton more than three buttons from the top. If you have a v-neck that you would like to wear to work but you feel is too revealing, try layering a camisole top underneath it, or securing the neckline with a safety pin at an appropriate depth.

Cuffs are a really fun way to express some of your personal style, and to help accentuate your proportions. Personally, I love to wear a flared sleeve, or even a bubble sleeve. More exaggerated and interesting sleeves add a unique touch to your standard corporate outfits. Experiment with sleeves and sleeve lengths to find what you’re comfortable with.

Waistbands are often something we don’t consider when choosing office outfits, but they can make a drastic difference when styled intentionally. Personally, i generally opt for a high waist trouser or skirt, as I am rather short, and i find it easier to keep my outfits work appropriate this way. However, a low rise pant or skirt with a long top, or a mid rise trouser with interesting layering, or even different dress waistlines can create unique and more personal silhouettes for your outfits. Playing around with accessories along your waistband such as belts or waist beads can help put a personal stamp on your corporate ensemble.

3. Fabric and textiles

Office and formal setting require that you eliminate some fabrics from your wardrobe, such as denim. Much as a tasteful, tailored denim piece may look more formal or appropriate than a pair of faded, baggy slacks, many corporate dress policies will forbid denim from entering your office. Instead of wallowing in your sorrows, try introducing new fabrics to your workplace wardrobe. Along with your standard cotton blends that everyone has, try wool or wool blends, corduroy, satin, silk, velvet, tulle or mesh. There are a place for most fabrics in the corporate world as long as they are styles appropriately.

Introduce pieces that have multiple fabrics such as tulle sleeves or skirts, wool bands or satin accents to maximise your personal style expression. Also, do not be afraid to lean into an embellished look. Beading, embroidery, lace, sequins and metal hardware are all potential accessories you can introduce to add flair to your outfits.

4. Colours

The most common misconception on the internet about office wear is that you can only wear black, white and grey. I denounce this idea, and instead propose that more colour is injected into your wardrobe in 2024. Just because you are in a professional setting does not mean you cannot dress in vibrant and interesting colours. Mixing and matching different colours into your looks is a great way to put a professional outfit together without feeling drab or dull. This also means that you are more likely to wear the piece outside of work, making it a better investment and a more useful piece of clothing.

5. Accessories

Accessories are one of the easiest ways to spice up a boring and lifeless outfit. Accessories extend past jewellery, into belts, gloves, hats, scarves, umbrellas, coats, bags, nail varnish, makeup and shoes. Mixing and matching a large selection of different accessories will allow you to rewear the same pieces over and over again without getting tired of them. They also are a great way to link your outfits back to your personal style and help you transition between workwear and homewear more easily.

Remember, the most important parts of office outfits are that they are:

Appropriate

Comfortable

Personal

Rewearable

Making sure that your outfits suit you and feel comfortable for you is the key to looking and feeling fabulous at work.

Mwah, chaoscharme

[bluiex]

HI BLUIE!!! I'm back with an extract of the desert duo hurt/comfort. It is nowhere near done, but it's slowly getting there! Warning for graphic description of violence, injury, blood and I guess gore?

--

Scar looked around, finding something to occupy his hands. Maybe getting more stone wouldn’t hurt anyone. He took his stone pickaxe in one hand and tried to raise it above his head to break the stone. Before he could even do that, the pickaxe became heavy in his grip, making it almost impossible to raise it above his head. Like his arm couldn’t go further than a certain angle. He rolled his shoulders, massaged them a bit and tried again. 

Fool him once, shame on him. Fool him twice, shame on him again, apparently, because his arms still couldn’t reach above his head in order to swing at full force against the stone. 

He groaned, giving up, and crafted more tools with the stone he managed to mine. He sat down close to the warmth of the furnace. He looked at the sky and couldn’t see the sun anymore. He saw hues of orange and a cool blue submerging most of the sky. Night was coming soon and he didn’t even have a shelter. But first, he needed something to stabilize himself, to help him move around with minimum energy. 

Scar searched in his inventory for anything and found a couple of sticks from the branches of the tree he punched. He took them in his hand, inspecting them. He used them to stand up and measured every one of them to see which one would be best for his height. The one he chose was just below his waist, but it’d do for now. 

He inspected the stick, unconsciously sitting on the crafting table. He couldn’t wrap his hand around the stick, it was too short for that, he would need something on top of it to hold it properly. How could he attach two different pieces together? He checked his inventory and found some residual leafs, some long enough to wrap around. 

He winced. It won’t stay for long, but it was all he had, so until he could find a better way to attach them together, this would have to do. He placed a small stick on top of the longest stick he had, wrapping leafs around it to temporarily secure it. He used the wall and the stick to stand up, legs trembling slightly at the weight on them. He grunted, stabbed the stick to the ground, and tested his balance. Scar had to bend in order to use his walking stick correctly, but not to the extreme that would bother his movements. 

He wondered how he managed to hurt himself so badly. He dug and dug in his memories, but just couldn’t grasp the reason. Did he get stung by an insect that affected muscles' articulation? He hadn’t seen any insects so far, it wasn’t a likely possibility. Clearly, he had a life before appearing in this clearing. A life that still affected him and left him clueless about what was going on with his body.

A burning smell reached his nostrils, and he sniffed the air to identify it. It smelled strong and sweet, like something tender and juicy was being cooked. 

“Oh my gosh,” he realized out loud, “the pork!”

He landed on his knees in front of the furnace (much to the detriment of his calves), and searched inside for the pork chops. He let out a “a-ha!” when he found them and took them out with his bare hands. 

Big mistake. 

“Ow!” he yelled, dropping the burning meat on the ground. He put his fingers in his mouth, salivating around them to cool down the burn. 

Scar cursed at himself for not thinking clearly and took one of the last sticks in his inventory to bring the pork chops closer to him. He took the coal out of the furnace, stepping on it to minimize a fire risk. It was a beautiful clearing, it would be sad for all of it to burn down. He waited for his food to cool before eating it with his non-burnt hand, landing on his butt after finding it difficult to sit on his knees for too long. 

A wave of energy engulfed him, relaxing the tension around his lower neck and relieving some ache in his hips and shoulders. He could start working on his shelter if he felt better. He put the other three pork chops he managed to make edible in his inventory and took his walking stick. 

Much to his dismay, with his frantic movements, the two pieces that were barely holding together separated. He groaned, and put them back where they were, wrapping the long and lean leaf around them, tying a knot. He stood up, still using the furnace and the stick to help him.

When he found his balance (even when the small stick was threatening to fall off at any moment), the sky became darker. Night was coming, and he forgot to craft torches and still didn’t have a shelter. He mentally slapped himself and quickly made some as the world submerged in twilight. 

Scar placed one torch when he heard a groan. He looked behind him and couldn’t believe his eyes. Was that a zombie? It was slowly approaching him. He froze, not knowing what to do. Then, something sharp pierced his shoulder. He grunted, shoulder pushed back, and used the torch to see who shot an arrow at him. His eyes widened. A skeleton was on top of the hill, readying its bow once again. The zombie was getting closer, and he needed to get out of here. He hastily grabbed his crafting bench and his furnace, put them in his inventory, and began mining a hole in the cliff. It’d have to do as a shelter for now. 

Something grabbed him and ate a piece of his flesh, right on his injured shoulder. He screamed and elbowed the thing behind him with as much force as he could muster. The zombie backed away with a sharp groan. Scar took out his stone sword and plunged it in the monster’s stomach. Another arrow hit his bitten shoulder. Again. 

His legs were shaking, his hands trembled, and he forgot how to breathe. He took out his sword from the monster, not looking at it to see if it was dead, and quickly dug himself in a hole. He closed it when he had enough space for his body, dodging the arrows the skeleton shot mercilessly at him. He tried to bring his breathing back to normal, but it took him much more time than he would’ve liked.

After composing himself, Scar placed a torch, mined a larger hole (with great difficulty), and looked at his shoulder. Blood trailed down his chest, and he regretted not getting water from the pond. He didn’t have anything to clean the wound. He looked down, questioning why he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and saw his ripped pants. It was the best thing he had for the job. 

Scar sat down, his body stiffen with tension, feeling every bit of pain the injury inflicted on him as he tried to cut the bottom of his pants. With laborious efforts (it was hard to bring his legs up towards him), he managed to get a piece and cleaned the blood off of himself. The piece of clothing was immediately soaked the closer it got to the wound. He also needed to get the arrows out of his wounded shoulder. 

It was a painful process. Cutting the bottom of his pants, trying his best to clean the wound, pulling the arrow out, screaming, using the cloth to hold the blood in. Repeat. 

In the end, his body slumped against the harsh stone wall, exhausted, adrenaline drained. He let out a big exhale and ate a pork chop. His mind wandered. If there were zombies, that meant there was civilization somewhere. That meant having supplies to heal his wound. That meant getting better materials for his walking stick. 

His eyes landed on an iron ore. Could he collect the iron and forge armor? He really needed protection after that encounter, and tools weren’t gonna protect him from flying arrows and zombie bites. He gasped.

“Will I turn into a zombie?” he asked out loud. How did he know you could turn into a zombie if they bit you was beyond him, but he knew it. Scar figured if he was gonna turn into a zombie, he would’ve felt the effects by now. Fortunately, he didn’t turn into a brain-eating monster after minutes of holding his breath.

He ate another pork chop and felt his energy regenerated. He could mine, find out what sort of ore there was deep down, below him. He stood up, using his stick and the stone to help him up. His legs trembled, and he felt exhausted, but he needed to get out of this place, needed to find a village. 

After stabilizing himself, he dug a sort of staircase, mining every coal and iron he found on his way. It was difficult mining, it took a lot of energy out of his arms and had to roll his shoulders, to take breaks before continuing. It was even harder going up and down, he had to use everything to help him get up and to get down as gently as he could.

-- Bloop anon (this is why it's taking me forever to write this fic, I just put the tiniest detail in what only last 5 minutes in the actual video. Help)

ITS SO GOOD THOUGH OH MY GOODNESS BLOOP-- THE WAY YOU WROTE IT IN YOUR OWN WAY holy crap.. its just.. SO GOOD LIKE?!?! *gestures wildly* i have no words, i just- i want more, i love this so much

[the-black-manor]

Your description has me hard in public, it's so difficult to keep up appearances like this. The thought of being your captive little pet, to be displayed and lovingly toyed with for a crowd makes me clench around nothing. I can almost feel the vibrations of the bell and the vibe, the assault from both ends, the sensation of being deliciously, uncomfortably full.

Would you ever breed me, sir? Give me your thick knot, or fill me up with your eggs? I'd be frightened at first, the idea itself both alluring and so utterly alien as to make me hesitate. But I know you'd be able to soothe my fears. I can almost hear you cooing praises in my ear as you ease me onto your knot - relentless but as gentle as possible, until the inevitable rush of bliss to come when it finally pops inside.

I can imagine you at one of these parties, casually chatting with the other creatures as I whimper and writhe in your lap, locked in place as you full me up with your cum. Just occasionally running a soothing hand over my bulging stomach or through my hair as I sob and beg to be allowed to cum myself, almost delirious with want. Or maybe after, in the quiet of your chambers, the only sounds in the room my labored breathing and the soft sounds of the jewelry I'm still covered in clicking together as we move. Me begging for more - less? - I can't even be sure anymore, you giving soft encouragements even as you push my body to its limits.

- Lamb

It seems you know me well. I would take you during the masquerade, once watching everyone touch and fondle you started to make me feel possessive. I would pull the vibe out of your ass, bend you at the waist, and force my hard cock, so much bigger than the vibrator was, inside of you. They would watch as I fucked you hard, claiming you. Maybe they would fuck their own pets, or touch themselves as they watched us. My knot would grow inside of you, locking us together, and then we would collapse on my throne. I would stroke your belly and play with your cock, massaging it with two fingers, flicking the bell on the end of the rod. Maybe I would even fuck your cock with the rod. But I wouldn't allow you to cum. That's for me to see, and me alone.

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 22: Hallucinations & Hauntings

SUNDAY - SUMMER 14

When Achilles woke, it was to the smell of soup and the—blessed be—warmth of sunlight grazing his face. This was the only time he was grateful all bedroom windows seemed to face east in this town. The sun after a storm was always a special kind of sun, something more… precious. Something a little more kind. 

A blurry glance at the digital clock told him it was nearly 11am. Yoba, he hadn’t slept this much in years. But his body had clearly needed it. Every limb was a tightly coiled spring—stiff, unable to stretch even the slightest amount. His nose was running; he managed to spot the tissues on the nightstand just in time before a quick series of five, obnoxiously loud, sneezes spewed from his nose. Moving even the slightest bit felt like trying to bend steel, but with a groan, he managed to sit himself upright. 

“Morning!”

Had he been sitting for a minute or an hour? Achilles slowly raised his head to see Alex walking towards him with yesterday’s clothes, warm and fresh from the dryer, and a bowl of scrambled eggs and pancakes.

“How ya feeling?” 

“Miserable.” The word had been lodged in the depths of a scratchy throat. 

“Yeah, heard you sneezing.” Alex placed the items on the desk and, biting his lip, held the back of his hand against Achilles’ forehead. A near-nauseating swoop rushed his stomach at the cool touch. If he wasn’t hot before, he must’ve been now. 

“Well you don’t have a fever…” Or apparently not. “That’s good news, right?” 

“Hmm…” 

“You can eat in here, no rush. It’s Sunday so I gotta head down, just wanted to make sure you were ok. Snored almost as bad as Dusty last night with that stuffed nose of yours, I thought you’d suffocate.” 

Achilles burned even redder, if that was at all possible, but he didn’t have the energy to fight it, managing to choke out, “Thanks again for letting me stay the night.” 

“Yeah, no problem. It’s Dusty you really have to thank, he knew something was up, didn’t you, Dusty?” Alex gave the old beagle a hearty scratch behind the ears. “Hey, I’ll try to stop by later—but maybe visit Dr. Harvey if you don’t feel any better?” 

“Do I look that bad?” 

“Nah, you look great. But you never know, better safe than sorry, right? I’ll see you around, okay?” 

It was an unceremonious goodbye, but then again, what did Achilles expect.

He managed to finish the pancakes and the eggs—they were awfully good—before slowly changing and shuffling out the bedroom and down the hall. 

Looking to his left, he saw George determinedly ignoring his hello—you’d think the old geezer thought being gay was contagious—as he watched some black and white western on the TV. To the right he found Evelyn in the kitchen, watering some houseplants. 

“Evelyn, thank you so much for breakfast and for letting me stay the night.” As difficult as it was to force his arms above his waist, courtesy demanded he move to wash his dishes in the sink. Perhaps part of him hoped Evelyn would take the bowl from him, but if so, he was disappointed. 

Instead, she turned from her mixing bowl to pat his lower back and said, “Oh that was all Alex, my dear, we’re just glad to see you safe! I do hope Shane is doing all right…” 

“I’m sure Harvey’s taking good care of him.” Achilles placed the dishes in the drying rack right before delivering another rapid succession of sneezes. 

“Oh dear.” Like Alex, Evelyn placed her cool hands against his forehead. “Perhaps you should see Harvey yourself.” 

“I’m sure it’s just a cold,” Achilles said, taking a rapid step back. Best not risk getting Alex’s grandparents sick, even if it was just a cold. “But I’ll not trespass on your hospitality any longer, thank you again.” 

“Of course, dear! You let Alex know if you need anything, now.” 

After receiving a very Shane-like grunt from George in lieu of a proper goodbye, Achilles left River Road and made the slow walk back to the farm, managing to (thank Yoba) not bump into any of those pesky overly talkative townsfolk. Really all he wanted to do was get straight back and sleep in his own bed. 

But lo and behold, as he passed the “Strawberry Farms” sign Leah had painted for him what seemed like ages ago, he made out a squat little someone slouched on his porch. 

Shane waved—small, halfhearted. Embarrassed. 

“Been waiting all morning for you,” he mumbled as Achilles drew closer. The dark bags under his eyes and scraggly, unshaven beard were aging him more than ten years; his face was still slightly bloated. 

Achilles raised an eyebrow, and would’ve scoffed had his stuffed nose and increasingly sore throat allowed it. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

“No, agh, sorry, that’s not what I meant…” Shane looked at his beat up sneakers, his hands visibly fidgeting in his pockets. “Buh… oh man… how do I say this… 

“I wanted to um… I’m really sorry about what happened at the cliffs. That was… embarrassing…” 

Achilles sighed, softening at the apology, and sat down on the porch steps, laying his head in his palms. “Well. I’m just… happy you’re still here, man.” 

“Huh, it was that serious? I can hardly remember…” Shane shuffled his feet, his hands still in his pockets. “Harvey told me you carried me through Cindersap through the rain and stuff… thanks…” 

Achilles shrugged and sighed again. He wasn’t capable of much more in his current condition. “Of course. Right place, right time. Couldn’t just leave you there.” He of all people was familiar with that sentiment. Yoba, this whole situation was hitting a little too close to home… but at this moment, he was (perhaps thankfully) too exhausted to dwell on it. 

Shane nodded, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “It all just… sucks, you know? My hours got cut again… forgot Jas’ birthday last week… and yesterday… seeing Alex…  you know what I’m talking about, so I can say this, but…” A pink tinge flushed across Shane’s cheeks. “He’s just everything I’m not, ya hear? Everything I once wanted to be. All those friends. Athletic. Nice. Good looking kid. Tall… and doesn’t need a beer to have a good time…”

Achilles did get it. There was something about Alex—his enthusiasm, his confidence, his laid-back attitude—it wasn’t difficult to see why it’d inspire envy. 

“I got to change, I know it.”

It was Shane’s turn to sigh, a heavy one through his nose. With great effort, he continued.

“I’ve decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got me in touch with a colleague of his.” 

This made Achilles look up. “Oh. That’s great, man.” 

Shane grimaced and turned to go. “Should be… good. Anyway… I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me. And I… want you to know that I’m going to take things a little more seriously from now on. Want you and Emily to uh… hold me accountable, if you can. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone…” 

“You’re not a burden to anyone, Shane. Your family and friends care about you.” 

Shane nodded slowly, as if digesting the words that tasted so bitter to Achilles even as they came out of his mouth. 

“Well… thanks, again. Time for the daily soul crushing at Joja now…” he said with a weak attempt at a joke. Something in his choice of words rang a bell in Achilles’ brain, but it was still far too clouded with exhaustion for him to make sense of any greater meaning Shane’s phrasing may have contained. 

Once Shane’s blue hoodie had disappeared to the south, Achilles gathered his strength and stumbled into his cottage. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that Alex’s assessment of him “looking great” had been nothing but a lie—the circles under his eyes rivaled Shane’s, not to mention the dried rivulets of snot and crusty ass tumbleweed on his head. Man, this was as Shane as he could get. Definitely not a look he wanted to emulate.

Why can’t you ever look hot in front of Alex? Fuck. 

But this wasn’t the time for vanity. He sloshed some water on his face, before deciding there wasn’t energy for anything more, and collapsed on his bed. He’d order delivery from the saloon later… 

*****

Sometime in the early afternoon, he woke atop the covers in a cold sweat. Shivering and dazed, he stumbled out of bed to his bathroom cabinet, desperate to find some medication he vaguely knew, in his hazy mind, wouldn’t actually be there. Of course—he hadn’t bought a first aid kit, or any medication really, like the idiot he was, but was it medicine he needed or something else…

Panic was rushing through his veins as his fingers stumbled over boxes of bandaids and bottles. Something was coming… he could feel them whisper at the back of his mind… he should’ve known, he should’ve been more prepared. He had to stop it, fast. 

Finding nothing—as he knew he would—he staggered over to his cell phone, forgetting it had all but seized up in the downpour. 

He was on his own. There was no way he was going to make it to Harvey’s, and besides, as the logical (or perhaps, illogical) part of his burning mind thought, Harvey deserved a day of rest after having to deal with Shane. The real question was why Stardew had only one doctor… 

There was a sudden knock on the door. Firm, hard, a single crack of knuckles against the heavy frame. It echoed, and a shiver ran up his spine, like the feeling of cold, dripping rain. 

He teetered back to his bed, desperately hoping it was the wind, or maybe an errant bear—he needed a dog. Maybe he’d borrow Dusty. What was he doing, living out in the semi-wilderness completely and utterly alone. But he knew it was something else. Something worse. 

The knock came again. This time sharper, higher, but similar to the first. A singular sound against the wood. 

Achilles crouched under the covers. Eyes closed tightly, a low cry just escaping from his lips. 

The post-knock silence gave way to a heavy pounding. Thunderous, like horses galloping, he could feel the vibrations snaking from the door along the wooden floors, shaking the bed ever so slightly with each thunk against the frame. Whispers began to creep through the walls, whispers in his head, in his mind. 

His aching fingers were shaking as he struggled to grab his pillow for something to clutch on to. Cold sweat rapidly transformed into an inferno as his fever switched tactics. 

Someone (or something) continued to pound on his door. He strained to keep the noise out, hands plastered against his ears, but even still, he could make them out… voices, low, angry… An avalanche of coughs from deep within his chest was clamoring to spew out, but he kept them down, silent tears and sweat streaming from his pores in their stead. On and on it went, for what could have been an hour. What could have been a minute, 

And then. All was silent. Just the scratch of a tree blowing gently against his window. 

But this was not the time to surrender his guard. 

There was the slightest whine. A creak. Then a cool breeze that shimmied its way under the covers where Achilles was hiding, grazing his clammy skin. 

And in the moonlight that now seemed to be streaking through his room, he could see illuminated the shadow of a hand, coming closer and closer. A face leaning towards him, passing through his comforter just as he knew, deep inside him, it would. Long and wrinkled and smiling with bloodshot, blacked out eyes and giant, pointed teeth. Worms wriggling out from holes in dry, grey skin. 

Even with his eyes closed, he could see it. The face lying next to him. Horrific shadow figures melding through the walls, circling his bed. Slime oozing through the windows. Serpents screeching as they wrapped their tails around his arms, pinning him to the bed frame. And all throughout, that multi-layered whisper tickling from the back of his mind. 

Achilles, they said. 

He had to get out. He wrenched the covers back, hands slick with sweat, and staggered blindly to his feet. A box—he had to find the box, where were they coming from—if he could just find it, destroy it, he could stop it all, he could end this, where was it, where was it? He could see it, there in his head—a metallic, lilac little thing, but where was it. 

The whispers turned to screams. He was paralyzed—make it stop, why wouldn’t it stop—

And then he woke up. 

*****

He felt his own forehead. Drew no conclusion, but figured, from his sore throat, chills, and massively aching muscles, that he must still have some degree of fever. A lower grade one now, for sure, but still perhaps a cause for concern… 

His phone—lying on his nightstand—was still useless. 

But just as he had resigned himself to his pathetic fate, there was a knock at the door. 

He painstakingly shuffled over to unlock it, pulling it just a smidge open to find, with the smallest modicum of delight, Dr. Harvey standing on his porch. The sun was still shining. He must not have been asleep for long. 

“You,” Achilles said thickly, already making his way back to bed, “Are just the man I wanted to see.” 

Dr. Harvey chuckled. “I thought so. Alex stopped by earlier to tell me you weren’t looking too good this morning, he shared you weren’t answering your door. I thought it’d be a good idea to check in on you. Here, let’s take a seat…” He unfolded a stethoscope.

Alex had stopped by? Perhaps that had been the knocking in his dream… 

*****

“102.3 degrees,” Harvey popped the thermometer out of Achilles’ mouth. The last procedure, Harvey had been quite thorough. “I’m glad I came.” 

“Must’ve been even worse earlier this afternoon.” Achilles coughed. “I was hallucinating.” 

Dr. Harvey frowned, making a note in his little pad. “Tell me more about that.” 

“I’ve always hallucinated with bad fevers, though,” Achilles quickly added, though never had they been this vivid before. “That’s not anything new, just, like, nonsensical shit… ” But at Harvey’s urging, he shared the details of his horrifying encounter earlier that afternoon.  

“—of course looking back you’re always like ‘you were hallucinating.’ But of course you forget that at the time. Think it’s all real…” 

“The brain is a remarkable thing,” Harvey nodded, finishing up his notes. “For better or for worse… Now I believe you may have pneumonia, but I won’t be able to confirm until the blood results come back—you must have been hypothermic being out in the rain for so long. It likely weakened your body, and may have made you more susceptible.”

Yeah and whose fault was that, ya bastard. 

“I’ve got some antibiotics for you here. Be sure to drink plenty of fluids. You may want to give Gus and Pierre a call, I want you to take it easy.” 

“Phone’s dead, doc.” Achilles erupted into another coughing fit. “Tried charging and it didn’t work.” 

“Ah. Well I can pass on any requests if you’d like.”

Harvey handed him a pen and paper, and with an unsteady, dragging hand, Achilles wrote “I hate cucumbers.” 

“Not too picky, are we?” 

Achilles shrugged, crawling back under the covers. 

Harvey tucked his notepad into his front pocket and stood, his work here done for now. “Now, a hot bath may also be good, it can help open up your airways.” 

“Perfect,” Achilles mumbled from his pillow. 

“Take care of yourself, Achilles. I’ll be back with additional medication—perhaps we can leave the front door unlocked and I’ll leave it on your nightstand if you’re asleep? The Valley is a safe place.” 

“Mmhm.” 

Achilles’ hacking cough felt oddly more comfortable sleeping on his side, arms clutching a pillow for dear life, and with his back against the wall, he managed to just catch a glimpse of a trio of junimos scurry inside as Harvey opened the front door to leave. They planted themselves squarely in the corner of his bedroom. Another hallucination? In his condition, he couldn’t bring himself to care…

*****

His sleep was, mercifully, untroubled this time, and he woke that evening to find, as promised, a few bottles of medication on his nightstand, as well as some instructions and recommendations. Steamy baths? Hot beverages? That’d be easy enough. 

Also on his nightstand was a paper bag, fragile and damp with steam. The handwriting on the note was smeared—Alex was a lefty—but impressively uniform and straight, despite the slightly distorted sloppiness of the individual letters that spelled out “Get well soon : )” 

Charming, really.

He stomached only a quarter of the chicken pot pie and half a snickerdoodle cookie—hallucinating rarely left him with an appetite—before stumbling into the living room, pausing by the portrait of two root vegetables to catch his breath, and into the kitchen to shove the rest in the fridge. He was still exhausted—mind, body, spirit—and hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to sleep peacefully through the night. 

Tucking himself in, he managed to make out in the moonlight a new trio of junimos marching in, straight through the wall this time. So it hadn’t been a dream earlier, huh? They gave what seemed to be a salute to their compatriots who had been, for lack of a better word, standing guard the past few hours before switching places. 

“Thank you?” Achilles found himself saying to their retreating figures. Thank you? For what? For just being there? 

The junimos merely bounced. 

[nancylfitness]

Happy New Year

Don’t let your resolution fail!

New Year resolutions date back to 4,000 years ago:

Babylonians pledged to pay their debts.

Brazilians jump seven waves and make a wish at each wave.

Colombians eat a grape each time the clock chimes at midnight.

Argentinians shred old documents to leave the past behind.

Buddhist countries ring bells in the streets to wish “good luck”.

Losing weight, exercising more, and staying fit are resolutions that many Americans make. It’s probably not too difficult to start an exercise / healthy eating program, but the trick is to stick to it. Make it a habit.

Try not to obsess about the outcome; concentrate on doing something every day that is within your control. To stick to your resolution, keep it simple.

Start now:

Get more active.

Cut down on junk (food)

A pound of fat contains 3,500 calories. To lose weight, try reducing caloric intake by 350-500 calories along with exercising each day (burning about 350 to 500 calories). This will provide for a reasonable and maintainable weight loss through life style change.

Try this tasty nutritious recipe for a start: http://://nancylfitness.com/2013/01/31/whole-wheat-pasta-with-chicken-asparagus-and-tomatoes/

In terms of exercise, the ACSM (American College of Sports Medicine) recommends at least 30-60 minutes of moderate physical activity five or more days a week. However, studies have shown that even small amounts of activity/exercise are beneficial. Any exercise helps to improve health because it:

Strengthens bones

Increases muscle tone

Reduces the risk of some diseases

Elevates mood.

Just 10 minutes of exercise a day will bring positive results. Try to work several major muscle groups at the same time.  Once started, stick with the program. Routine exercise is one of the best things you can do for your health. You will:

Be more energized

Boost your ego

Elevate metabolism

Sleep better

Lose / maintain weight

Improve brain function

Decrease risk of cancer / cardiovascular disease.

Everyday activities and recreation burns calories.  Any extra movement/activity counts toward health benefits:

Take the stairs – instead of the elevator or escalator

Park further away in the parking lot

Iron, wash dishes, cook

Rake leaves

Walk the dog.

NOTE: For safety purposes talk to your doctor about any physical limitations you may have when starting an exercise program. Use dumbbells or other weighted household item such as liter water bottles as weights.

To begin, try the exercises below:

Standing dumbbell push press: Works shoulders, triceps, legs & glutes (buttocks):

Standing dumbbell push press

Stand.

Hold weights at shoulder level.

Dip knees.

Straighten body driving weights straight overhead.

Complete 20 reps (repetitions).

When this movement becomes too easy, add more reps and/or more weight.

Dumbbell stiff legged deadlift with lateral raise upon standing:  Works low back, glutes, hamstrings (legs), abs (abdominals), deltoids (shoulder), traps (trapezius), rotator cuff & core.

Deadlift

Stand, holding weights at each side with knees slightly bent.

Bend at the waist & lower weights to ankles while keeping back flat.

Return to erect posture; raise right foot to result in standing on left leg.

Lateral raise (single leg)works the shoulders (lateral deltoids), with the trapezius (upper back) and balance. This exercise involves lifting weights away from your body, out to the side while standing on one leg.

Lateral Raise

Standing on left leg hold weights at each side.

Raise arms out from sides to shoulder height; lower weights to sides.

Repeat while standing on right leg.

Repeat process for 20 reps or as many as possible.

Increase reps and/or weight as strength increases.

[cagesings]

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: ❛  let me wash your back.  ❜ 

it’s irritating how little freedoms she have been ripped away from her. she can’t even reach her own back anymore. while some days, the changes are enough to make her burst into tears ( which her guardian often waves off as hormones if he sees any of it; that she’s always been this dramatic ), she’s simply irritated at her more limited capabilities as of recent. they don’t have much time together like this as it is. it takes a good few minutes to set up all the towels so no one will be able to see them in case they get home early. having to spend a good majority of their time in the shower attempting to clean herself has her squeezing the soap hard enough so that it slips away, falling on the ground which she cannot simply bend over and reach anymore. 

johanna does not ask for him. to have him offer it when she needs it still shocks her, despite the fact that they’re married and have known each other for a good while now. she gives him the bar of soap. ❝ not below my waist. ❞ that’s usually the rule. she knows riff will respect that wish. she always respects his, even if they don’t understand each other’s little requests. johanna turns around, shifting her hair to fall over her shoulder. ❝ i can’t reach anywhere anymore. i’ve completely forgotten what my feet look like, in case you were wondering. i could not describe them for you if you were to ask. ❞ her complaints are in her typical soft-spoken manner, if it weren’t for the twinge of annoyance in her tone, it wouldn’t be possible to tell she was whining at all. she tries not to. though, it’s been getting more difficult lately. ❝ sorry, ❞ she says once she realizes how that sounded. ❝ it’s just been frustrating. ❞