#mold clamping pressure

[gudmould]

3 minutes to understand a plastic | polycarbonate PC

Polycarbonate PC Polycarbonate is a thermoplastic resin containing -[ORO-CO]-links in main chain of molecule. According to different ester groups in molecular structure, it can be divided into aliphatic, cycloaliphatic, and aliphatic-aromatic types. Among them, aromatic polycarbonates are of practical value, and bisphenol A polycarbonate is important, molecular weight is usually…

[nysrage]

Play Wit It, Onyankopon

you were putting the last touches on your costume, that was planned by you and your bestfriend. going as the grady girls from the shining. ony entered the room to you bent over adjusting your thigh high stockings and black heels, skimpy dress falling just at the back of your upper thigh. that pastel blue hugging all of your curves just right. the smothering aroma of your flirty perfume. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, let alone those soft brown cheeks peeking beneath your dress but the icing on the cake? we’re those plump outlined lips nestled in your panties just below them. clit practically poking through the thong, while you mindlessly fiddled around with your shoe.

before he knew it, ony found himself standing barely a inch away. hands rubbing against the soft skin of that round ass, thumb dipping just above your clothed folds. “ony, not now..” you started to stand but your boyfriend stopped you in your tracks. “i know.” he breathed out, “i know but fat ma just begging for attention right now..” running his hands over your folds, teasing slow circles around your clothed clit. your legs unconsciously spread to give his hand more room, biting down on your lip from the small shocks of pleasure. “onyaa—”

a small smirk on his lips as he gently cups your pussy, bending down to your level to place a wet kiss behind your ear. “c’mon mama, just let me play with her..” softly running his fingers up and down your damp thong, getting you right where he wanted you. that resolve crumbling away with a small whisper, “that’s it, just play with her..?” rocking your hips back against his hands giving into those pleasurable sensations. ony bit down on his lip with a small nod. “that’s it baby..”

—

“so fucking wet.” ony groaned, thick tip pushing into those gummy walls. soon as he got his hands on you, he ate and finger fucked you sloppily. slick and spit running down the back of your stocking covered thighs and onto the grey wooden floors of your apartment. those soft hands clutching at your ankles for dear life, pussy swollen and throbbing from the overstimulation. “gimme one more..” slapping that fat head at your clit before sinking it back into that clamping hole of yours. head hazy from the blood rushing down to it. ony wanting you bent over, head down ass up. “mm, papaaa” moaning out at the pressure of him slowly filling you up, still pulsing from the last breathtaking orgasm. “open up, let me have that pussy.” your walls molding around him with every deepening thrust, letting him in easily and gripping onto him tight. a low moan escaping his lips once that soft ass finally meets his pelvis. “mmhm, justtt like that pretty girl, f-fuck.” starting out with a slow deep pace that had you slobbering, face twisted with building pleasure.

“mmm, right there!” whining out for more, which ony had no problem giving you. pounding into you hard and steady, moaning with his eyes trained on that pretty pussy that sucked him in deeper than before, leaving his dick slick and glistening. “you love this dick?” roughly slapping your ass, making you clench down on him hard. “ouuu yesss shitttt!” one hard thrust leaving you screaming out, as he continued to build that pressure almost toppling forward but his hands always caught you. “love how I fuck this pussy? huh?” you nod, his thrusts fast and deep. “words mama.”

“yes, i love how you fuck me papaa!” nails digging into your skin, ony angling his hips up right into that spot that always led to a mess. “cum on this dick.” your eyes rolling back while your legs shook uncontrollably, gushing out a creamy mess onto the floor and the two of you. loud squelching and ony’s moans filling the room as released all of him inside you. “so fucking good, gushy ass pussy.” pulling out and getting on his knees instantly, face met your legs weak, wobbly, and the mess you made.

“you might as well call sash, we ain’t making it to no party..”

[munsster]

hell-bent

A/N: basically… give me beefy bucky or give me death (gif creds: @vader-anakin)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: All you want is attention from your boyfriend. Though, during a life/death mission may not be the best time to crave it. 2.6k words

Warnings: smut, man handling, dirty talk, degrading, knife play/kink, blood play!!!!!, uh very mild exhibitionism, pet names (babydoll, doll, princess, minx, baby)

"Babydoll, toss my knife over." A crouching Bucky fiddles with the steel door's padlock before catching your ankle in his left palm, wrapping cooly into your exposed skin.

"Can I have a kiss first?" you coo and bat your lashes to get his blood pumping, the susurration booming in his ears and rushing between his legs. 

He barks out a laugh, face scrunched as he falls back onto his tailbone, abandoning the Fort Knox knockoff before you kick your calf from his grip and shuffle away. His breath finally catches in his windpipe when you scoff, tugging his knife from your belt. Bird-like in your grace, you flit away with a tune tumbling from your lips in a hum. Footsteps thud hard and fast until his hands clasp your abdomen. With the tip of his nose pressed to your ear, his hips shoved up against your back, and in a mumble:

"Listen, the second we're done with this, I'll fuck you until you can't walk, but right now, I need the goddamn knife." His mouth trails to the crook of your jaw as his fingers curl into your taut leather neckline. A hot puff of air fans over your skin when you spin in his arms, spine sinuous and molding into his grasp. Then the edge of his own knife meets his bust, poking at the center of his vest as he frowns.

"And I need a kiss," you say, very matter-of-fact in your own silver-tongued way. The tip of the blade glides up and over his adam's apple until he's forced to tilt his head back, stubbly jaw exposed to your hungry eyes. A blushing pink line rises in the knife's wake, pricking at his skin with ease.

Bucky likes it that way. 'That way' meaning sharp. And 'it' being his knife and his girl.

"Doll?"

Lip tucked between your teeth, you savor the flutter of his lashes when he plucks at the hip of your catsuit, grinning wide like a predator. The spandex snaps against your skin with a biting pain. "Yes, James?"

"Give me the knife. Now." The gravel in his voice has you withdrawing the blade from his skin and pouting like you're innocent. Like his hard-on isn't already strained against your thigh. He meets your gaze then, pupils blown as he sighs. Out of relief or disappointment, he does not know.

"Give me a kiss. Now," you mimic.

"Fuckin— you know what? Fine." Vibranium clamps onto your jaw, tugging you close as his lips meet your own in a searing kiss. The burning cold of his fingertips brings a certain warmth to your cheeks, spreading, curling over your bones and flooding your senses. He groans into you as he licks at your mouth and draws your breath over his tongue. His hands roam your waist, and he lets out a muffled protest when you reach for his belt.

It's worse that he hasn't had a moment alone with you for a week. Libido going haywire at your touch, he revels in it, his low moan pouring down your throat. And his hands. God, his hands. They dip into your waist like cupped palms dip into the fountain of youth after years of wear and tear. His thumbs press hard against rib until you purr into him with the heat of several suns beating down on a forgotten beach.

Then, right fingers drag down your wrist, coiling around the handle of the knife and wiggling it from your loosened grasp. You pull back with a scowl, lips chafed under the wet pressure of his own, and he winks.

"Thank you, princess," he whispers against your temple with a smirk, clapping his palm onto your ass and chuckling when you squeal and back hand his bicep.

"Bastard."

…

"You. Out," Bucky barks, ducking into the stuffy tent and squeezing your hand as he glares at a pissed Sam.

"There's no way in hell you're hogging our only shelter for sex!" Sam snaps.

"Funny, 'cause that's exactly what I'm doing. Now, get out before I strip, and you get to watch me in all my naked glory fuck my gorgeous girlfriend." You drop your forehead to the center of his back, and your face goes hot. Sam shuffles past you, grumbling about ‘horny goddamn rabbits’.

"Little much, don't you think?" But Bucky's not really listening as he zips the hatch shut and pounces on you like a frenzied jaguar, lurching with the smooth coil of his stamina.

"Minx," he growls against the hot skin of your exposed clavicle, "'m gonna go into cardiac arrest with how excited you get me." He tugs the zipper of your suit further, marking the skin with wet kisses down your navel. You clutch the seam of the bedroll beneath you in your restless grip because his teeth pinch your delicate skin and the humid tent nearly drowns you.

"You bring out the knife fiend in me." Off his tongue like a moan, like he's holding back, and when he ruts into you, it's clear he is.

The super soldier's heartbeat pumps in your ears, and you gasp when it picks up, pressing your palm to his chest. He fumbles an eager hand for his thigh pocket, pupils blown at the sound of a steel click. Dopamine floods his senses, the fading light glaring across his switchblade that he finds reflects in your gaze nicely.

"Is this payback?" you whisper. His grin is nothing but cheshire then, scheming with a racing mind as he brings the needle-sharp point to the crest of your cheekbone.

"You know I would never hurt you, princess." He trips the blade low, down your throat to the valley of your breasts where he pauses in thought. His lips hover a breath over yours, and Bucky likes the way you go soft and doe-eyed and maleable in his embrace. "D'you trust me?"

"With my life."

A flash of arrogance crosses his expression, the glint in his eye shining through his god complex. The chill of the blade scrapes over the plump of your breast as he keeps his crystal eyes trained on you. You and your ragged breathing and your fingers curling into his bicep. He just has that effect on you. The corners of his lips rise wickedly at the idea.

"Dunno if I'd be so willing, babydoll," he grumbles, pressing the serrated edge to your sternum, the skin swelling on either side; it starts to sting. "But I guess that's the epitome of trust, isn't it?"

A hiss through your bared frown when the flesh breaks for crimson. He's quick to lap at the wound, driving the blade of his knife through the base of the tent and into the dirt beside your shoulder. His palm flattens against your rib cage as he jerks your zipper fully open and peels the suit from your torso.

"Now, that wasn't so bad," he says, feeling your lungs flood with air beneath his shaking hands. Your head lulls to the side, and if he didn't know better, he would think you were pissed. He thumbs over your fresh cut, hushing you when you squirm. "What happened to my poor girl?"

"Fuck you."

"Doll," he warns.

"I hate you."

"Take it back," he huffs, kneeling between your thighs with his fingertips tweaking your pebbled nipples. While concerned, he's been turned on since noon, no thanks to you. Desperate fingers go to rake your scalp as he leans down to pepper ever present kisses over your jaw. "C'mon, lemme kiss it better."

You look to him like he's the prime suspect in your own murder, and it shatters his poor heart to nothing but ash in his sunken chest. Anger feeds your fire until you flip him off with a smirk that makes his brain do a spine-twisting somersault. Without a second thought, your wrists are pinned to the ground, tight enough to fracture, and yet he still handles you like you're porcelain.

"If you don't ease up, I'll have no choice but to fuck the attitude right outta you. Hmm? Hard to complain when you're busy moaning for me." Sweat flecks down his temple, saliva pooling in his mouth when you blink up at him, jaw unhinged, fingers ticking. He's an animal in this light.

"It's like being a douchebag is second nature to you," you mumble, and you feel him snap with a shift of his weight. An inner gearshift from benign victim to the apex predator. Or maybe he was never benign, just lying in wait.

"Oh, you've earned it now, babydoll."

He strips you of your uniform with a yank, palming for your feverish skin as he licks at your bottom lip. Some volatile form of submission. Like he's teasing you out of your husk just to rip you to shreds. But God be damned if you wouldn't offer him the very weapon of your own demise.

His tac-gear clatters to the ground while he takes your fist to curl around his cock, coated slick with precum. He huffs out a breathy chuckle against your neck when you slowly stroke him. Then his hips buck into your grip as his teeth sink into your jugular.

"See what you do to me? Been hard as a fuckin' rock since the second I saw you. Couldn't help but remember how you taste. Let alone how you feel." And nothing satisfies a super soldier's cravings like the real thing.

He hoists your thigh up and over his hip, 'round his lower back. Like a belt. Like you're his consolation prize. You push the pad of your thumb across his frenulum, tearing something gargled and ragged from his throat. Something almost sentient as he tosses his head back in earnest. Yet all you can do it stare: his eyelids drifting shut, fingers strangling the sheets beneath you, his every muscle tensed like his life depends on it. Not a bad view. Not bad at all.

Then, your fingers tighten with the pulsing vein along his cock, and he has to slip from your hold to compose his sex drive. His eyes blink open to a zig-zag scene that he can't quite register until his eyes uncross.

"Christ, woman, give your poor lover a break. I'm still recovering from just lookin' at you," Bucky sighs. And he falls head over heels for the way you thumb over his dimpled chin and kiss him like an angel, soft and sweet and ethereal like no other.

The illusion shatters, however, when you bring your hips to meet his in one single thrust. Relentless woman with the face of a goddess. It brings him to his knees—or in this case, elbows.

You giggle at his pinched expression, wiggling your pelvis as his tip presses deeper into you cunt. Then it's payback when your back arches and your nails dig into his flanks, baring your neck to his gaze.

"Yeah, right there, princess," he mumbles, "I know you missed me inside this pretty pussy." And the cocky bastard is right. He feels it in the way you stretch to fit his girth, the supple elasticity of your cunt clenching in unfamiliarity. The subtle rotation of his hips is evil in principle but so damn perfect when everything is so warm, so wet, how can either of you resist.

You grasp for his shoulders when he hooks your ankles around his lower back. And oh, does he know how to work at this angle. His tip drives deeper just so he can drag back out again, slow in every roll of his hips. Any protest flies out the door in heavy breaths across skin and fingertips

The dark closes in around you, suffocating as it drenches your skin and renders you undiluted beauty in his arms. With every moan, he picks up speed just to hear you against his throat.

"Bucky." It bubbles from your throat as an ode to his warm body and restless mind. “Love you.”

"I gotcha, sweetheart. I love you, too." His muscles twist around you, and he's close with the stutter of his hips, digging deeper while his metal palm flattens against your tummy. Your fingers comb his hair from his eyes; you look like an angel, blissed out, half-lidded eyes, and he smiles down at you, still so focused despite his unraveling.

The tent's zipper hisses when Sam peeks in with an awfully disgruntled, "what the hell, cyborg? A warning?"

"I think you had enough of a warning," Bucky growls, continuing his thrusts when your head tilts to the side, an embarrassed squeal from your lips.

"Jesus Christ, I thought you'd be done, old man," Sam chuckles.

"Get the fuck out!"

"Fine, fine, just try not to break your girlfriend." A loud sigh from Sam before the zipper shuts with a metallic grinding noise that echoes in your ears as static.

"Sorry, pretty baby, 'pparently someone's common sense left 'im," Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss to the broken flesh of your sternum, lashes batting as a sufficient apology. A harsh thrust then, punching the air from his chest as every fiber in his body coils and snaps to the beat of your heart, filling you with wet heat. He rubs his middle finger over your clit with a vengeful smirk when your back curls with the weight of your release.

…

"D'you always go commando under these things?" he coos, tentative and quiet while the pads of his fingers trace feather-light patterns over your damp skin. Your snug uniform and the way it hugs you hasn't left his mind. Fact, it never really does.

"Yeah, I mean kevlar is surprisingly breathable, so what's the point."

"Noted." Bucky drapes his forearm across your navel, shifting onto his palm and grinning above you like the cat that got the cream: mischievous and pleased out of his mind. "I'm one lucky sonuvabitch, huh?"

"Yeah, you are," you tease, hooking your thighs around his hips as he settles into your body with a chuckle, chest erupting with delight taut against yours. He tucks the hair plastered across your forehead to your hairline with a knuckle, lips puckered against your temple in a kiss sweet enough to give you cavities.

Your hands dive into the sleeping bag, trailing the sweat-slicked sinew in his back, dipping with the tightly-wound muscle before sinking your fingertips into the plump of his ass with a cheeky smile. 

"Little minx." Bucky hangs his head with a grin, nipping for your cupid's bow then pecking lower at your baby-soft lips. Though he knows he went far enough with the tip of his blade, he would never admit it to you. The same way you would never admit that you liked the sting of it. But now that he's left a scar on your chest—an unspoken promise of his and hers, a permanent mark in your complexion—there's truly no turning back.

And he proves it with another kiss that renders you breathless, taking in his solace with wavering consciousness. The line between asleep and awake and Bucky's hands blurr to something more than reality. Though, the noise he makes against your mouth is nothing short of sinful.

From the opposite side of the tent, Sam grumbles, "mind shutting the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Sorry, Sammy!" you whisper.

"No, you're not."

marvel masterlist

[redhead1180]

I couldn't stop thinking about JJ and just this from his POV.

The feeling when JJ first sinks into you never gets old for him. His hard cock is enveloped by your soaking wet cunt and he can't help the moans that escape each time. The way your walls are so tight and mold around him. He wants to close his eyes and get lost in the moment, but he doesn't want to miss the way your face scrunches from pleasure. The pleasure he's giving you. He wants to kiss you, feel your lips, taste you, but that would interrupt the little moans and whimpers coming from that delicious mouth. So he leans in, close enough to feel your lips, but not stop them. He always has to take a little moment to gather himself and let you adjust, before he moves inside you. He needs to let you adjust, never wanting to hurt you, but making sure he doesn't nut too early. Taking it slow, JJ pulls out, letting you feel his mushroom head slide against your walls. The moan that comes from you let's him know you felt every inch, every ridge and vein on him. He stops just with the tip inside you and snaps his hips forward, slamming into your wet and warm pussy, feeling your gummy walls grip around him. He hears you gasp, knowing he hit that sweet spot that made you see stars. He knew your pussy better than you did, knew every inch, and what made you scream and cum all over him.

Tonight JJ wanted to take it slow, he wanted to enjoy your gasp, whimpers, whines that drove him crazy. He had your legs bent, knees in his chest as he repeatedly slammed into you, hitting your G-spot. But it was hard thrusts, not fast, as he let both your climaxes build slowly. A slow burn began to take over him. He could tell you were feeling yours, the way you pawed at his back, his name little whimpers from your mouth, your thighs squeezing his hips. He could feel your pussy walls, his pussy, tighten around him. Your moans were becoming louder, he could read your face, your eyebrows furrowing, that you were getting close. JJ was so close, focusing not to cum before you did, not as easy as it looked when he felt walls your flutter around him. He reached down between and laid his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles on it. Your gasped and dug your nails in his back, clawing at him making him hiss. He pressed his hand down, moaning from the pressure he felt on his dick, pressing harder on your clit. He could feel himself inside you, feel himself rub against your walls over and over again as he sped up just enough get you there. You screamed his name and he felt his dick harden and grow more as his own climax got closer. He loved how much he could make you lose control, watching you as your orgasm took over your body, your thighs shaking, body clenching up, walls clamping down on his dick, screaming his name like a prayer. He felt the hot gush of your release all over his cock, looking down at the cream ring around the base of it. He groaned from seeing you guys connected and felt his dick twitch. He felt the tingle move down from his stomach to his balls and they drew up. He slammed into you and felt his release shoot out of him, coating your walls, as he saw stars and his vision went white. With his head thrown back, he moaned your name as he came harder than he ever remembered. Your arms wrapped him, he slowly begins to roll his hips, letting you guys ride out your highs. JJ nestles his face in your neck, kissing and nibbling, giving you praise. Always taking him so well, always being his good girl and JJ loves you for it.

Tagging moots @princessmaybank @drudyslut @babygorewhore @starfxkr @haven247 @rafescurtainbangz @rafesthroatbaby @moremaybank @echo-at-the-pond @blueicequeen19 @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @acooltalebouquet

[hanasnx]

nose-riding.

MINORS DNI 18+

"Don't get shy on me now," HAN SOLO chides, those big hands clamped on your thighs to make sure you stay pinned where you belong. Your hesitance is demonstrated through the tremble in your legs, wrestling with the instinct to hover over his mouth while his strength overpowers you, muscling you into your seat. “the fuck are you going?”

“Han, give me a second.” you plea through a whimper, but he yanks you down, his lips kissing the ones between your legs as the roughness of his shaved face scrape your soft tissue.

“Mm-mm,” he denies, muffled by your flesh as he mouths your folds, enveloping them in wet warmth that makes your eyes flutter. Thick arms lock around your thighs, cords of muscle swollen atop your lap, taking advantage of your position to jostle you gently over him. A rhythm is set, one your body adapts to within seconds, obeying his silent command to grind. The new sensation that comes with wetting his entire face with your slick tightens your grip on the headboard, releasing a burst of air in a gasp as you chase that growing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Encouraging groans sound underneath you, seemingly enjoying this just as much as you, heightening in volume as your enthusiasm becomes clearer.

Juices drip down his chin and the sides of his face as you ride it, listening to the sounds of sex fill the room as he continues to liven your efforts with his flexing biceps, rocking you on him with fervor that you meet with eager cooperation. He ducks his head, straining his neck from the weight of a body on it, but he ignores the pain, reaching his tongue to circle your hole, shoving it in. A sharp keen is drawn from you, one so vulnerable it rips you out of the trance. Another wave of heat is swift to bloom on your cheeks, and briefly you slow to cover your mouth in embarrassment. It's reprimanded as quickly as it occurred, Han's massive hand swatting the fat of your ass to imprint the colored shape of his scold. You yelp, jumping forward that brushes your clit against the tip of his nose.

The feeling introduced to you shoots electricity up your spine, and you follow it. You aim your hips just as he angles his head, reading your mind. He nuzzles your bud, puffy from stimulation, as his tongue traces the outline of your sex. One of those powerful and low moans of his, vibrating you, is enough to corral you to the edge. Your hips quicken, grinding down, desiring more and more pressure as your swirl your clit around his nose. You can feel him surge as he tugs you down—it's a wonder how he's not suffocating yet—desperate lips latching onto your delicate tissues, swiping side to side on your sex, painting himself with your new layer of cream. One hand releases the headboard to fist his hair to which he groans obscenely about. Your fist tightens, digging him into your hungry sex, letting him devour you as you direct him.

Since you're going at it on your own, he unlocks you, those callused hands running up your body, molding your pretty flesh in his grasp as he wanders your torso and chest. He gives your tits a hearty squeeze, pinching your nips between his thick fingers, before running down your back so he can get at your ass, groping you.

"Just like that, Han, almost there, just like that," you whisper, winded from effort, riding his face without a shred of inhibition. Your clit swipes across the bridge of his nose, hitting the bone, and your cry out as the coil snaps. Sweet juices flood, pouring out of you, drowning Han just like he wanted. Arms wrap around your hips, keeping you moving while your orgasm takes you over, squeezing your eyes shut as your body locks up like its got a mind of its own. He's not gonna let you chicken out, forcing you to keep grinding, overstimulating your abused clit. Even your fist banging haphazardly against the headboard, nails of your other hand digging into his scalp doesn't deter him. Choked noises of pain and pleasure release from deep within your gut, and the violent spurts of your pussy gradually slow to a stop. Your hole flutters, and carefully he lifts your leg for you, pushing you to lean to one side so he can extract himself. He envelopes you in his arms, tucking you into his chest as you breathe hard.

[thesassypadawan]

Absolutes (Sith Obi-Wan x FemApprenticeReader)

Summary: You didn't choose this path…he did.  He was the one who found you, spared your life.  Took you in and will mold you into his perfect apprentice.  No matter how many ‘lessons’ it takes.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Dom Negotiator, doggy style, little rough, age gap (about 10 years, apprentice reader is of age) and…Obi’s big, fat cock.

Notes: Happy Sithtember all you, lovelies! ❤️🖤

- Moans and grunts fill the air, mingling with the sound of skin slapping…  Echoing off the training room walls, spilling out into the corridors…  Ringing in the ears of servants who were unfortunate enough to pass by during your ‘first lesson’…

- Invisible pressure wraps around, squeezes the nape of your neck.  Bruising the already tender flesh as he pins, holds you to the floor…slams into you.  Cheek pressing against the hardwood, cunt clenching his thick length.

-  ��My my…aren't you a fast learner?”  Obi-Wan coos; voice low, charming.  Deceptive compared to the way he abuses, bullies your poor cervix.  “Already taking me so well, little one.”

- Mouth falls open at his words, a pathetic whine escapes.  “M-master, I…I…”  That’s silenced when his long fingers slip past your lips, the simple order of ‘Suck’ coming through your newly formed bond.

- Obediently you close down on them, suckling greedily.  “You what?”  Tongue running along the underside of his digits…sniveling, mewling.  “Can’t do so?  Can’t go any longer?”  All to his twisted delight, enjoyment.

-  “Because your thoughts betray you,” he chuckles darkly.  Fingers sliding deeper, reaching further; gagging you.  “They tell me how much potential you possess…how much you desire to have more.”

- Gummy walls tighten and flutter with each gag, every sputter.  Drool leaking out from the corners, pooling.  The sight so embarrassing, utterly debauched; you clamp your eyes shut.  Try to disassociate from reality, weakly attempt to throw up your mental barriers.  However…

- Phantom digits tangle, grasp your hair; abruptly, harshly tugging.  High pitched squeal bubbles from your throat, barriers falter.  “That's not the proper way for an apprentice to treat her master.”  Eyes snap open, meet and lock with his golden ones.  “You must be open to me at all times…” 

-  With a wet pop, he pulls his fingers from the warmth of your mouth.  “Connect, be one with me…”  Trailing them up your body, leaving streaks of your spit it their wake.  “Allow me in whenever, wherever I please…”

-  Cupping, caressing your bottom; he kneads, fondles.  While using the force to tease, rub circles on your clit.  “Is that…”  Breaths come out in ragged pants, small puffs.  “…understood!”

-  Landing a harsh blow, your curves ripple.  Breasts scrape across the floor as you lurch forward.  Nipples stinging, burning in near orgasmic bliss…and you can’t help but cry out in pleasure.  “Ye-yes, master!”

-  Pleased hum rumbles in his chest, pace begins to pick up.  “Good girl, knowing your role…”  Speed blinding, brutal; pounding into you unbridled.  “…your place.”

-  Tears prick at your waterlines, your release fast approaching.  Whimpers grow more frantic, desperate…pussy grips him so needily.  “Yes, m-master!  But I’m…I’m not sure…I-”

- Movements stutter, hips falter. “Unsure?”  Pressure on your sensitive bud increases, becomes painful. “We siths only deal in absolutes.”  The word ‘Cum’ fills your head, accompanied with a hard pinch.  And…

- Fingers dig in, scratch at the floor; scrambling to anchor yourself.  While waves of ecstasy wash over, overwhelm you.  Heightened by the feeling of Obi-Wan painting your insides white, pumping you with his warm seed.  Claiming you as his, completely…totally.

- Brushing a lock of hair from your face, he leans forward…placing a tender kiss on your neck.  Muttering sweetly into your skin.  “And I am absolutely certain that soon enough you’ll be molded into my perfect apprentice.  Now…” 

- Cheek pressing against the hardwood, cunt clenching his thick length…body a sore, trembling mess.  You whimper from his loving touch, but wail out when he grabs a handful of your ass…delivers another hard blow.  “…onto the next lesson.”

Tag List: @cacti5539, @espinathena-17

[keffirinne]

Please do post the rest of what you wrote for please not him!

I think you wrapped up the story in a really nice way, so you could even post these as a separate thick, like a companion piece or separate one shot. But please do post them! I want to read everything you’ve written for him.

Hi anon!

Sorry it took me so long to reply, wanted to wrap it up in a finished, short oneshot for you!

So happy you're still interested in my Roman's fics :3

It takes some pressure off me when I have the whole piece completed and can just post something whenever I feel like it, like this.

I mean, I can do it all the time, but my project management skills turn on, when I have unfinished stuff, waiting to be ended xD

Maybe not everything I have in my drafts I find suitable for posting, definitely not in the form I have it there right now, but your comment really motivetes me to go back to these ideas, rethink and rewrite them.

So here you have it!

Bad dream

Roman Sionis x Reader

#Reader's traumatic experiences from the past #Roman's shitty attempts to comfort the reader #he has no empathy so it is a golden star for him anyway #based on true story when I had a bad dream and started screaming in the middle of the night, waking up myself and my boyfriend (now fiancée). He reacted way better than Roman did

The musty smell of mold settled on your clothes, eating into the fabric. The walls of the cramped room with torn, faded wallpaper were like a prison, surrounding you on all sides, unabling the escape. 

In your throat you felt a bitter, iron-like taste of terror.

You were suffocating.

Your lungs constricted in burning pain from lack of oxygen and every desperate attempt to take a breath ended in nothing. You were opening your mouth wide open till your jaw hurt but it was as if there was no air at all.

And you needed air to scream. 

You needed to make a sound to cry out for help. This thought like a slithery, cold worm crawled up your back, making you realize that no one knew where you were. And no one would come here to help you.

And there he was, coming right at you. His face blur, yet you knew he had this filthy smirk on his face. His approaching figure, like a walking nightmare that you couldn't withstand.

Again, in a hopeless attempt to save yourself, you opened your mouth with all your strength, but no sound came in.

He was only a few steps away from you. Curled up on the floor, you hid in a corner of the room, dug your nails into the rotten wood leaving red marks on the floor.

If only you could scream, call for someone to stop this. To stop him.

You knew what was going to happen, you saw it too many times before, yet every time you wanted to believe that maybe, now, it would be different. And despite it, you were never prepared for the inevitable culmination. 

Every time it felt like the first time.

Your tormentor was towering over you, doing nothing about your vulnerability. You knew that on one hand he had this disgusting salamander tattoo. A design that will be forever remembered. As he was strangling you, the amphibian stared straight into your eyes without any act of mercy. Cold, rough hands were clamping down on your neck, and all you could feel was that burning pain and fear. The body that still wanted to fight was being forced to give up.

Suddenly you heard someone calling your name. The voice was quiet, like coming from afar. It was so indistinct that at first you weren't sure if it didn't just was in your head. But the longer you began to focus on it and listen into it, the image of your tormentor began to blur. The death grip on your neck eased and the room began to disappear. The voice was getting closer. It was calling you. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop screaming, woman!"

You woke up still screaming when someone strongly tugged on your shoulder. 

Your whole body was covered with sweat and the heart was pounding like it was about to pop out of your chest.

It was still dark, but you weren’t any longer in that room, your tormentor was gone. You bluntly looked around to recognise that it was Roman's bedroom. The memory from a few years ago was still alive in your subconscious, unlike the man who caused you so much harm. In the shapes in the darkness, you recognized the silhouette of Roman sitting next to you with an expression of angry concern on his face. He was clenching his fingers tightly on your shoulder, staring at your apparently confused face. 

It was just a dream.

The images, as real as the bed you were lying in and the window through which the moonlight was now casting, laying in long, white stripes on the floor. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." you hid your face in your hands as the wave of embarrassment started to take over the overpowering feeling of terror from which your heart was still pounding. 

"Fucking finally." Roman grunted and let go of your arm.

He rubbed his face with his hand and leaned against the headboard. He was looking sleepy and tired, which was understandable when he had just woken up in such a violent way in the middle of the night. Crossing arms on his chest, waited for a good explanation why you decided to interrupt his eight hour beauty sleep. 

"You probably think I'm nut." you started, trying to calm down your heartbeat.

"What the hell happened? You just started screaming like a total kook."

"I had a bad dream. A memory actually. Sorry."

Your breathing slowly began to calm down, absorbing the reality that surrounded you. The traumatic experiences from the past began to retreat, hiding in that  corner of your mind where it was probably destined to stay forever.

"I thought someone was murdering you or something." he said reproachfully. 

He wasn't far from the truth. 

"I know, it felt very real. I'm sorry."

"You said sorry already three times."

Not knowing what to answer, you lay down on the pillow. To reclaim the composure you started studying the furniture in front of the bed. It was a trick to focus on a few objects that you learned to calm yourself down. Roman wasn’t saying anything, you thought that he got offended, like he often did for no reason or just went back to sleep and you were embarrassed enough to not speak up first. So when you heard his voice again, not so angry as before, it surprised you. 

"What was the dream about?"

There was something extremely intimate about this question and somehow reassuring. Yet the last thing you wanted now is him to feel pity for you. 

“Old memory. The not-so-good ones.”

He muttered in response as if he understood what you meant by that, but he didn’t insist on more details.

“And FYI, I don't usually act like this.” you added in an attempt to deflect the topic.

“You don't usually scream in the middle of the night as if you were fighting for your life? Good to know.” his sarcasm was back.

Roman settled down on the pillow next to you.

“Next time you want to wake me up with your mouth, there is a better way.”

Not sure if this was his attempt to defuse the situation or was he actually asking for a blowjob, which was also highly likely, you appreciated the humor.

“Very funny.”

Covering yourself tighter with the sheets you lay yourself down to sleep. You closed your eyes, but after a while you opened them again. Staring at the ceiling you started to contemplate the situation. It's not like you expected any sort of compassion from Roman, it actually surprised you that he didn’t kick you off his bed. You turned on your side, so that you were now looking at his face in profile. His eyes were closed and his chest was rising steadily under the thin silk.

“Roman?” you asked quietly.

He grunted without opening his eyes.

“Good night.”

In response, he muttered something that sounded similar to "good night." 

You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep.

@thegreatwicked @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover @hereticpriest @creativelyquestioninglife

In case you want/don't want to be tagged, let me know! No pressure ☀️

[val-made-a-mistake]

something i've never done before...

predictably, i got distracted from all my other WIPs and i wrote something resident evil 7 related because it's been on my mind a LOT recently. you may have noticed from the content of my reblogs. i had an interesting idea for a fic and it may have to take a backseat so i can respond to all my other requests, but i just wanted to give a little excerpt as to what i'm thinking ;)

warnings: if you've never played resident evil 7 - a gross abandoned house, descriptions of rot and mold and decay, guns, blood, kind of disgusting all around, very spooky, yes it still feels like october to me

word count: 835

-

Zoe crouched on the stairs leading down to the garage of the Baker household, the air thick with the acrid stench of mold and decay. Must, grime, and rot coated the inside of her nose as she waited with bated breath. The whole house had been soaking in the rot for years at this point, so she’d gotten used to the feeling of bile rising in her throat. Right now, she had bigger things to focus on than how gross it was.

She felt a chill crawl down her spine as a primal instinct told her she wasn’t alone. She relied on instinct far too often, now.

She could fight through it. Her grip was tight on the shotgun. She just had to time her moment right.

“Zoe…” a voice echoed from the shadows, low and taunting. A voice that should’ve been familiar, but wasn’t. It sent shivers coursing through her body.

She kept her lips clamped shut, forcing herself not to respond. A shaking finger hovered over the trigger of the shotgun.

“Where are you, sweetie?” The voice dripped with a sickly-sweet tone that was unmistakably her mother’s, yet laced with something far more sinister. It made her stomach churn. “Mama just wants to see you.”

“Don’t run away, Zoe!” Her father’s voice joined in, a gleeful voice that made her heart leap in her throat. Like this was just a game to him. “We just want to play!”

She felt the pressure of the house closing in on her, the walls pulsating as if they had a heartbeat of their own. As panic clawed at her throat, she forced herself to think straight. Based on where she heard the creaking of footsteps and the echo of their voices, they weren’t particularly close — not in the immediate hallway, at least. Which meant she had a fighting chance.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

There was a method to this madness. It wasn’t wild guesses and terrified sprints anymore, when you were years into it. Not usually, anyway.

Holding her breath, Zoe ducked toward the kitchen as quickly as she could, crossing the hallway separating the kitchen and garage in one giant step. She was still crouching, trying to make herself as small as possible. The last thing she wanted was to be seen over the counter.

Quiet. Just be quiet. They’ll get bored eventually.

“Come back!” Marguerite’s voice sang out from somewhere, melodic yet menacing. “Don’t you want to see what I’ve cooked up for you? I made your favourite!”

She was closer now, closer than she thought. What the fuck. She’d timed it so carefully, and it was all gone to shit.

Her heart was hammering against her ribs, the terror threatened to overwhelm her. She was clutching the shotgun like it was a lifeline. I need to move.

Unfortunately, before she could, Zoe caught sight of her mother, and she stopped breathing.

Marguerite stood directly ahead of her in the dining room, a twisted smile stretching across her face, her eyes glinting with an unsettling hunger. In her hands was a butcher’s knife, gleaming in the flickering light.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Come on, Zoe! I made your favourite!” Marguerite cooed, gesturing toward the platter on the table. She couldn’t see it with how she was crouched, but knowing her mother’s habits, it was probably some dumpster garbage mixed with someone’s small intestine. The stench was overwhelming, a blend of rot and something sweetly putrid.

Zoe felt bile rise in her throat again, this time paired with vertigo. The only viable options were hiding in the pantry, which almost certainly meant death, or making a mad dash back into the hallway, towards the laundry room or something, where she knew Jack was patrolling.

Fucked either way. The shotgun in her hands suddenly felt useless, and the panic rising in her chest made her stupid.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck - what do I do, what do I do?!

“I don’t want anything!” she screamed before she could stop herself, forcing herself on her feet to run.

Unfortunately, as soon as she ran out into the hallway, she found it blocked by her father, his stained button down reeking of freshly spilled blood. 

“Now, now, don’t be rude,” Jack said, his voice dripping with false cheer. “We’ve been waiting for you. You can’t just leave us!”

With nowhere left to run, she screamed - a raw, primal sound that reverberated through the house.

“Get away from me!”

Her throat was already raw with dehydration, and screaming took up way too much of her energy, but she couldn’t help it. Her body was tired of running, and some part of her knew that this was the end.

"Get away!" she screamed again as Jack advanced on her, firing a round at his head, even though it did nothing to stun him. "Stop! Please! Stop it!"

CRASH!

Zoe gasped awake abruptly, her heart pounding, sweat clinging to her skin, plastering her hair to her forehead.

She’d fallen out of bed again.

[gudmould]

Clever design-anti-retreat structural design method of core-pulling mechanism

1. Why do we need to put back structure? When there is a front mold slider in mold with oil cylinder directly pulling core as shown in figure below, slider insert cannot be locked by mold clamping force, but can only be locked by oil cylinder. Due to inaccuracy of oil cylinder, slider position often retreats under action of injection pressure, resulting in defects such as excessive glue,…

[nysrage]

okay walk wit me sis.. 😌

make it fit connie.. or like fake sympathy condescending connie while y’all fucking.. FUCK I LOVE THAT SHIT.. 😩

ouu girl i’m walking! lemme see if i can get it to slight jog tho!

connie wasn’t oblivious to the fact he had a big ass dick. no, not at all. he’d spent most of his late high school and early college years figuring out where’d he’d fit on the inch chain as he liked to call it. most girls not being able to handle it or wouldn’t even attempt to tame it once they saw the monster that lay behind his sweats. many of his friends making fun of him that he didn’t get pussy but in reality, no one was bold enough to take it for him. not until he got his hands on you.

the girl at his university know for her unique street art. from the city and a splitting image of a bratz doll, who was never scared of a challenge felt she was ready to tame everything in life even her above averaged boyfriend.

that is until she found herself atop of him, positioned in reverse cowgirl to give her a man a view he’d never forget. thighs burning from riding dick splitting her open as she sank down a few inches onto him. “f-fuck i can’ttt .” finding herself scurrying back up to the tip, running the longtime lovin’ he was giving you. “thought you wanted it mamí? let papí give it to you.” connie teased, long thick dick hitting every stop imaginable inside of you. “s’too much!” you whined.

“too much..?” connie chuckled, grabbing ahold of your hips and taking a good look your tight two toned pussy wrapped around him. slick dribbling down his dick as you started to fill that emptiness inside you. “nah i think my good girl can take a lil more..” sinking deeper into that clamping hole of yours, moaning at the pressure of him slowly filling you up and sitting you down on his dick. “shittt.” relaxing your body as your walls loosening with warm slick and pulsing as you adjusted to his size. slowly molding to his curvature, filling you deliciously. connie knew it just took a lil work for you to get where you needed to be. “mhm, keep opening that pussy f’me, you right there mamí.”

giving you a final deep thrust that left your soft ass flush against his pelvis, leaving stomach full and mind in sex crazed haze. “fuck this pussy s’good.” groaning as he bounced you up and down his dick, removing his hands once he felt he set a steady pace for you. Inching your hips and down slowly trying your best to take every single inch. Connie landing a rough slap to your ass that left your body jolting from the stinging pleasure. “go down on it princesa, don’t be lazy.”

“thought you said you could take it.”

ass ripppling like waves as he met your hips and fucked himself up into you focused on that pretty pussy sucking every inch of him deeper than he’s ever felt before. nails digging at his thighs for dear life as your body bounced above his, “your so fucking deep” whine barely audible above the loud gushing of your pussy let him know that it’d take every inch happily. “s’ too muchhh! con—” fucking you down on him harder as he reached the spongey spot within that always started the waterworks. “awe that’s all you can take mamí..?” voice rough and full of feigned sympathy as he held up your ass mid air and fucked up into you hard, taking his pounding like a champ and meeting his rough thrusts. A smile creeping on connie’s face once you start riding out the literal high your body was about to reach.

“and you whining it too much, pussy the perfect fit for papí.”

[haggishlyhagging]

In times when feminism is at a low ebb, women assume the reactive role—privately and most often covertly struggling to assert themselves against the dominant cultural tide. But when feminism itself becomes the tide, the opposition doesn't simply go along with the reversal: it digs in its heels, brandishes its fists, builds walls and dams. And its resistance creates countercurrents and treacherous undertows.

The force and furor of the backlash churn beneath the surface, largely invisible to the public eye. On occasion in the last decade, they have burst into view. We have seen New Right politicians condemn women's independence, antiabortion protesters firebomb women's clinics, fundamentalist preachers damn feminists as "whores" and "witches." Other signs of the backlash's wrath, by their sheer brutality, can push their way into public consciousness for a time—the sharp increase in rape, for example, or the rise in pornography that depicts extreme violence against women.

More subtle indicators in popular culture may receive momentary, and often bemused, media notice, then quickly slip from social awareness: A report, for instance, that the image of women on prime-time TV shows has suddenly degenerated. A survey of mystery fiction finding the numbers of female characters tortured and mutilated mysteriously multiplying. The puzzling news that, as one commentator put it, "So many hit songs have the B-word [bitch] to refer to women that some rap music seems to be veering toward rape music." The ascendancy of virulently misogynist comics like Andrew Dice Clay—who called women "pigs" and "sluts" and strutted in films in which women were beaten, tortured, and blown up—or radio hosts like Rush Limbaugh, whose broadsides against "femi-Nazi" feminists made his syndicated program the most popular radio talk show in the nation. Or word that in 1987, the American Women in Radio & Television couldn't award its annual prize for ads that feature women positively: it could find no ad that qualified.

These phenomena are all related, but that doesn't mean they are somehow coordinated. The backlash is not a conspiracy, with a council dispatching agents from some central control room, nor are the people who serve its ends often aware of their role; some even consider themselves feminists. For the most part, its workings are encoded and internalized, diffuse and chameleonic. Not all of the manifestations of the backlash are of equal weight or significance either; some are mere ephemera, generated by a culture machine that is always scrounging for a “fresh” angle. Taken as a whole, however, these codes and cajolings, these whispers and threats and myths, move overwhelmingly in one direction: they try to push women back into their "acceptable" roles—whether as Daddy's girl or fluttery romantic, active nester or passive love object.

Although the backlash is not an organized movement, that doesn't make it any less destructive. In fact, the lack of orchestration, the absence of a single string-puller, only makes it harder to see—and perhaps more effective. A backlash against women's rights succeeds to the degree that it appears not to be political, that it appears not to be a struggle at all. It is most powerful when it goes private, when it lodges inside a woman's mind and turns her vision inward, until she imagines the pressure is all in her head, until she begins to enforce the backlash, too—on herself.

In the last decade, the backlash has moved through the culture's secret chambers, traveling through passageways of flattery and fear. Along the way, it has adopted disguises: a mask of mild derision or the painted face of deep "concern." Its lips profess pity for any woman who won't fit the mold, while it tries to clamp the mold around her ears. It pursues a divide-and-conquer strategy: single versus married women, working women versus homemakers, middle- versus working-class. It manipulates a system of rewards and punishments, elevating women who follow its rules, isolating those who don't. The backlash remarkets old myths about women as new facts and ignores all appeals to reason. Cornered, it denies its own existence, points an accusatory finger at feminism, and burrows deeper underground.

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 13 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)

This chapter is rated NSFW — 3072 words. Super sappy sex.

Note: A tad bit shorter of a chapter, but I have some shit brewing. Oh boy. Just you wait. In the meantime, try not to let your teeth rot out of your skull reading this sticky sweet crap. Lmfao.

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Kristen whined, high-pitched and desperate, while her blunt fingernails swam past silken black strands and anchored themselves into her boyfriend's scalp. His lips expertly molded around her aching clit, applying gentle suction, all while the tip of his tongue swiped across the bundle of nerves in perfect rhythm.

"Shane. Oh, fuck."

Two digits flexed inside her, hooking and sliding, pressing the spot that made her see explosions of color on the back of her eyelids as she squinted them shut and rolled her hips to chase the gorgeous pressure.

"Oh, god. You're so…  good at this," she praised even while struggling to stay upright where he'd perched her on the kitchen counter. In the flurry that followed her sappy gesture of affection, she hadn't the mental fortitude to object when Shane hiked her up, lifted the skirt of her sundress, and pulled her panties to the side. Not that she would have wanted to.

He responded to her encouragement with a low groan of his own, the vibration adding an extra spark of pleasure that had the heels of her feet pressing into his back harder than she'd intended. The polyester of his Joja uniform polo felt entirely too unpleasant against her skin, and she despised the clinical blue hue, dredging up mortifying memories just as she was on the cusp of climax.

"Take it off," she suddenly demanded. Shane's eyes flicked up to meet hers, mouth still latched to her cunt as she stared down at him, panting harder than if she'd just run a marathon. "The shirt. Please."

The loss of warmth on her sex was jarring, but it allowed her to scoot her ass further up the counter while he grasped the collar of his shirt, ripped the offending garment over his head, and tossed it haphazardly over one of the kitchen chairs.

"Don't wiggle away from me," Shane rasped, hooking his hands under her knees and pulling her forward to hang off the edge. She squealed and giggled, clasping the old countertop with her good hand while the other flailed to keep her balanced. "I won't let you fall, babe."

Kristen sighed as his tongue slipped through her folds, probing at her entrance before his fingers found their way back where they belonged. His words reverberated between her ears, taking on an entirely new meaning while her thighs clamped around his head.

I won't let you fall…

She trusted him implicitly because he wouldn't let her fall. He'd proven it more times than she could count — despite the demons that plagued him, despite addiction, despite the depression that sometimes threatened to consume him. He'd been there.

"Shane," she gasped, tugging at his hair insistently. "Shane, please… I need you inside me. Now."

The way he handled her — dismantling her legs from his shoulders, rising to capture her by the waist, and lifting her from the counter — was fluid and smooth, like a dance he'd rehearsed a thousand times before showtime. She didn't have to think or speak, only wrap her thighs around his hips and her arms around his neck while he carried her toward the bedroom. Hands roaming one another's bodies, shucking clothing and trailing steaks of fire across flesh, tangled together, crumpling sheets. 

"I'm gonna fuck you 'til you beg me to stop."

His voice was gruff as he ripped open a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled the latex down his cock before Kristen could blink. Scrambling toward him on the mattress, she placed a palm on his chest and pressed until his back made contact with the headboard.

"No, baby. It's my turn to fuck you," she declared, straddling his lap, hovering just above his erect cock as his eyes widened and his hands settled on the curve of her hips. "You've been so good to me. Relax."

She took her time teasing him, pressing feather-light kisses to his forehead and cheeks while swirling the head of his dick through her slickness, suppressing tiny moans when making contact with her clit.

"How's this?" she asked, even as he pulsed in her palm. "Feels good?"

His only reply was a strangled curse before he tangled his fingers in her hair and crashed their lips together. Shane was frenzied, kissing her with more passion than he had thus far, rapid breaths puffing from his nostrils while his tongue swiped against her own and his teeth nipped at her lips. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Kristen fully grasped the base of his cock, guiding it home. Lower and lower, she sank, agonizingly slow, savoring the stretch that bordered on painful.

"You're torturing me," he finally mumbled once he separated from her mouth long enough to speak. Flicking his eyes downward to where their bodies were joined to prove his point, Kristen sat immobile, warming his cock from the inside while an uncharacteristic chill prickled her skin, tiny hairs standing on end in response.

"You call this torture?" she teased, shifting her hips forward and back. She was instantly rewarded with fluttering eyelids and flexing fingers that had roamed to her ass. "Shane," she whispered into the shell of his ear as she wrapped her arms around his chest and settled her chin on his shoulder, "I'm so happy you're finally mine. I'm so happy."

He seemed to draw a breath and hold it as she began to move — slowly upward across his entire length and then just as slowly back down. Something made itself known to her in that singular instant with a man who had promised to be whatever she wanted. She knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he didn't have to be anything other than what he was. Everything felt wholly perfect, and sharing it with Shane added the syrup-coated cherry on top — sweetness and light and everything sappy and beautiful and good. For the first time in her life, she could pinpoint this exact moment as the best. Nothing that had come before it could compare, and she had the rest of her life to try and top it. So, she expressed it the only way she could while overwhelmed by such all-encompassing emotion. Physically.

Having sex and making love were two totally different activities Kristen had thought she'd experienced. She'd had sex — emotionless, mechanical, singularly focused. And she thought she'd also made love. At least, that's what Jason had called it because he refused to refer to the act by anything erotic. They never fucked. They didn't screw. Kristen accepted his version of intercourse as "making love" even when it ended with her unsatisfied, staring at the wall while he snored beside her. More than several times, she thought to herself that she'd rather just have sex if it meant she could also get off, which, in turn, made her feel selfish and ashamed. 

But no. The way she clung to the man in her arms as she set a slow and steady rhythm. The way his humid breaths fanned across her neck and shoulder. The way his deep moans rumbled in his chest and radiated outward to hers, acting as an intangible link between them. The way she pressed crescent grooves into the flesh of his back and the way her heart felt as if it were so swollen it would split in two and the way her eyes pooled with unshed tears and the way and the way and the way…

"Kristen," he croaked, digging his fingers into the meat of her ass as she quickened her pace, grinding her hips while gently sinking her teeth onto his shoulder. "Pretty baby, fuck — if you don't…  Christ! " He shifted his grip to her hips and held firm, stilling her desperate movements as much as he could until her brain caught up with his words. 

"What?" she gasped against his neck between peppered kisses. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, babe. I just — you're gonna make me come too fast if you keep doing that." He cleared his throat, and the vibration tickled her nose and lips. "You weren't kidding when you said it's your turn to fuck me, huh?" A warm chuckle followed, his hands now smoothing up her sides before trailing back down with his fingertips. Kristen blinked, and two fat tears rolled down her burning cheeks.

"I love you."

The words tumbled from her mouth before she registered them as coherent a thought. It was true. Of course, it was. She loved Shane Davis like she loved no other. He was her best friend. He was the person she turned to for most things, including companionship. Even when he spat obscenities at her, flipped her off, and told her she was wasting both of their time by attempting to befriend him, she couldn't get the image of the young boy with piercing green eyes and floppy black hair out of her mind. His face haunted her that entire summer of her childhood, as cute boys do when they embed themselves in the psyches of young girls — her very first crush. So she'd pushed and pursued and insisted, and slowly, so very slowly, she cracked his exoskeleton and burrowed herself deep in the malleable jelly he kept hidden deep inside.

She loved him. It was certain.

But confessions of such magnitude uttered in the throes of passion could be cast in doubt or ruin the mood entirely. Kristen froze, her arms tightening around Shane's torso as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, hoping he hadn't heard it.

"Kristen. I — what?"

The languid tickle of his fingers on her side had ceased, and she could feel his heart pounding against her chest. For a terrifying moment, she was convinced he'd forcefully untangle her from his body and toss her to the floor, and she prayed to a God she wasn't sure existed that she could pluck the words from his brain and stuff them back down her throat until she choked.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin. "I didn't mean to say it like this. You don't have to say it back." And that was true. She expected nothing from him. She never had.

For what felt like millennia, the room fell silent with the exception of Shane's breaths as they expanded and contracted his lungs, his heart thumping like a drum. Kristen had no clue what he must be thinking, but the possibilities zoomed through her mind at warp speed, each more stress-inducing than the last. In the end, however, he didn't say a word.

By the time Kristen realized she was being manipulated into a new position, it was too late. Shane had lifted her from his lap, anchored his legs beneath him, and she slightly bounced when her back hit the mattress. Utterly dazed, she stared up at the ceiling until Shane's face hovered above her, his expression softer and sweeter than she'd ever seen.

Involuntarily, she reached for him with every limb and drew him in, locking her ankles behind his back while his hands sought her wrists and pinned them above her head. He kissed her once as he pushed back inside so effortlessly that it felt like he knew her body better than she did, mapping out every course like he'd traveled them a thousand times.

Feral was the only word Kristen could coin afterward. Grunts and slaps and guttural moans filled her bedroom while Shane fucked her to the edge of a coma. Any concerns he may have had about coming too soon must have been consumed by whatever lust-fueled demon had utilized her confessions of love as a conduit to possess him.

Her first orgasm built and mounted while he fucked her rough and slow, intense eye contact locking her in place when it snapped and spiked her circulatory system with a heavy dose of endorphins. She screamed his name, but he didn't break stride, rocking her body as she rode through it on a speeding bullet. The second was just as intense once he'd flipped and positioned her on her stomach, cheek pressed to the quit, arms limp at her sides. She was fairly certain his grip on her hips as he pounded her from behind was the only thing keeping her from sliding off the edge of the bed and face-planting into the hardwood boards below. She twisted the quilt with her unbandaged hand, her cries muffled by the mattress when it crept up on her and pounced like a wild cat stalking its prey. Faintly, she was aware of his increased moans and faltered rhythm as she felt his cock pulsing inside her, signaling that he'd finally lost the battle to keep her held captive while he transformed her skeleton into moldable clay. 

Breathless and sweaty, Shane flopped down beside her and regarded her with the same soft and sweet expression he'd worn before screwing her senseless. 

"You okay?" he asked, tucking a curly strand that had fallen over her eyes behind her ear. She had the urge to laugh at such a silly question but could only manage a weak nod.

For a moment, she dozed, recovering in the fuzzy hypnagogic waiting room of her consciousness. While floating, she concluded that she absolutely could not fuck this up. The mistakes of her past would remain there, abandoned but not forgotten. She had a story to tell; that much was true. The details were ugly and painful, and as much as she loathed to relive them, she knew she owed it to him. Would he hate her afterward? She hoped not. But, in the meantime, she'd do her best to make him believe the words she'd thrust upon him much sooner than she planned.

Maybe one day, he'd say them back.

❦❧🍓❦❧

She awoke with a start when Shane gently shook her shoulder, and for a second, she wondered if she was late for school.

"Hmm?" she asked, eyes adjusting to the evening gloom that had claimed the bedroom. The setting sun could be seen through the window behind her bed, hues of hot pink and brilliant royal purple streaking the sky.

"Hey, sorry," he replied, looking a bit sheepish that he'd woken her up. "Morris let me take Friday off so I can drive you to Zuzu."

"Good." She reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together, requiring physical contact after such an intense lovemaking session. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." His expression was vacant, and his eyes stared beyond her, even while fixed on her face. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was thinking — obviously deeply mulling over something important — when he spoke again. "I'll move in. If you still want me to."

Kristen flushed, warmth spreading clear to her fingers and toes, but she kept her own expression neutral, waiting. Afraid that if she reacted in any capacity, he'd be spooked and scamper off into the woods like a skittish bunny rabbit. When he didn't say anything further, she chanced a follow-up question.

"Are you sure?"

"No," he replied, capturing a strand of her hair between the fingers of his free hand. "But it's what I want."

She wasn't sure how to respond because she didn't have an argument. Even if she feigned confidence, she knew that the suggestion was something Shane would struggle with, regardless of his decision. The fact that he was being so honest was more than enough.

"You can change your mind," she said, watching as he smoothed her hair through the pads of his index finger and thumb. As much as she cursed the curly bush on her head, seeing someone else admire it made her feel nice.

"I know."

They co-existed in silence for a while, Shane closing his eyes while his fingers continued to twirl, and she watched intently, creating a mental checklist of all the things she'd have to buy, move, and clean to make the farmhouse inhabitable for a little girl. She also prepared herself for the sneaky glances and whispers that would circulate through Pelican Town once its inhabitants caught wind that Marnie's nephew had shacked up with Homer Wynand's granddaughter.

"When are you going to tell Marnie and Jas?" she finally asked, unable to hold back any longer. Excitement had devoured her, even while fighting to keep it at bay until the moment Shane's clothing hung in one of her closets.

"Um, dunno. Maybe this weekend."

He didn't open his eyes when he spoke, and Kristen wondered if she had ever seen him so relaxed. Her instinct was to cuddle closer to his chest, tuck herself below his chin, stay there for the rest of her life. Instead, she craned her neck over her shoulder to check the time on her alarm clock.

"Yeah, I should probably go," he spoke again. When she turned back to face him, he was scrubbing at his eyes with his fists, already moving to sit up. "Told Marnie I'd be around for dinner tonight. She saw me wasted at the Saloon on Friday, so she's been hovering."

"Okay," Kristen replied, joining him as he stood and located his clothing from the haphazard piles littering the floor. She opted for a bathrobe instead, plucking it from the back of her closet door.

The short walk from her bedroom to the kitchen to retrieve his discarded uniform shirt felt hesitant, and she couldn't pinpoint why. Granted, she didn't want Shane to leave. She knew a heavy silence would settle over the house once he was gone. A silence that she would attempt to fill with inane chatter from the television or by cranking the record player as loud as it would go or with the jingle of bells while she played with Moody and his many toys. But she also knew she had to hold the reins loose and allow Shane to meander without too much resistance. Allow him to find the path on his own and follow it back to her. 

"I'll be around in the morning," he said, opening the front door and stepping onto the porch. She followed and drew him in for a parting kiss.

"You better, boyfriend."

He scoffed, but a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned and began his journey back to the ranch. Kristen watched until he disappeared into the pines at the edge of her property, swallowed by the forest. 

[ere-the-sun-rises]

On the toolkit thing, here's some more pointers:

Dollar stores have tools, usually of decent quality too

Get an all-in-one screwdriver if you can find one

Get robertson head screws (square hole) in 1 1/2" and 2" - robertson screws are easier to install and remove than flat or philips (star/cross) heads and the screwdriver itself doesn't strip as quickly

Electrical tape - not only for cords, but for plumbing and other non-permanent/non-damaging items

Polyfilla and a putty knife can fill almost any hole in drywall and don't require any sanding to make even if you're careful

Caulking fills gaps really well, and bathroom caulking is also water and mold resistant

Spray foam is a cheap and effective insulator for gaps in the walls (just be careful bc that shit is hard to get off)

An adjustable wrench and adjustable pliers (specifically vice-grip curved jaw locking pliers) can solve nearly any issue

Toothpicks and wood glue effectively fill too-loose holes in cabinets. Pack toothpicks dipped in wood glue tightly into a hole, let it set for 24 hours, then come back and cut the excess away with a chisel or boxcutter. You will now be able to re-screw your cabinet door on.

Wood glue can fix most wooden furniture, but may need to be clamped/strapped in position (the tighter the pressure, the closer it will bind)

Pipe cement can stop leaks in outflow pipes (so long as it's allowed to cure)

Other unrelated tips:

NEVER fuck with your electricity. ALWAYS pay for that to be fixed professionally. Same with gas lines.

Plumbing can be fucked with, but don't try to replace whole sections of pipe without knowing what you're doing.

Rugs are superior to carpet. A lot of them (especially mats and runners designed for bathrooms) can be run through a washing machine. They are also easier to replace.

Windex and vim can clean basically everything in your house

Replace your furnace filters regularly (at least once a month if you have animals)

If your windows are drafty/cold in winter, there are plastic sheet kits in hardware stores to seal them up.

Linoleum is a (relatively) cheap and easy-to-usr flooring material that can cover hideous tile or splintering wood.

Cheap glassware is superior to plastic. It doesn't deform or stain and is microwave safe (sometimes even oven safe).

Make sure you know what runs on what electrical breaker

If more than one thing is powered by the breakers that control your furnace or electric stove, get that fixed IMMEDIATELY

Use soft white or yellow coloured light bulbs in rooms you just hang out in (like living rooms/bedrooms) and clear/bright white for utility rooms (bathroom/laundry/furnace rooms/kitchen). It reduces strain on your eyes.

Humans need greenery for our mental health. Put a little plant in each room.

If you're strapped for cash or time, don't buy anything in white. Opt for coloured clothes/sheets/furniture/paint bc it's way easier to maintain and hides dirt better

Mattresses need to be off the floor so they don't grow mold and can regulate your temperature better

Invest in good pillows you can machine wash.

Frozen and canned vegetables are just as good as fresh ones

Cooking roasts from frozen keeps the moisture in better than letting it thaw

You can do a lot with garlic plus and margarine

Real wooden furniture - even second-hand - is always superior to particle board furniture. It lasts much longer, is easier to repair and can be refinished if necessary.

Thick-bottomed stainless steel pots will last you a lifetime - if you have the money for a set, they're well worth it.

Dollar stores have glasses, utensils and poreclain dishware. If you're in a pinch, they're good and sturdy.

If you have a yard, invest in a mitre saw (for tree branches), an iron/steel spade, a metal rake and a metal snow shovel (if necessary) - all with wooden shafts. Plastic gets brittle through the cold. Also, a good bucket never goes awry.

Shop vacs can vacuum up water and medium-sized debris if the filter is removed.

For sandpaper, the lower the number, the more aggressive the grit is. Higher numbers produce finer sands.

things i wish i had known when i escaped my family household and couldn't ask my parents for help

invest in a good mattress early on. there are many other ends you can save on - sleep is not one of them. this is key to how much energy you'll have throughout the day

you don't need a bedframe but you do need a slatted bed base (even if it's just pallets)

opening a bank account is easy

there's youtube tutorials for everything. how to install your washing machine, how to use tools, fixing stuff around the place. channels like dad, how do i? are a godsend

change energy provider as soon as your old deal runs out. you'll get better offers elsewhere and avoid price gouging

assemble a basic first aid kid at home: painkillers, probiotics, alcohol wipes, bandages, tweezers, antihistamine tablets - anything you might need in a pinch

and an emergency toolkit: flashlight, extra batteries, a utility knife, an adjustable wrench, multi-tool, duct tape

set your fridge to the lowest temperature it can go. the energy consumption is minimal in difference and it'll give you +4/7 days on most foods

off-brand products are almost always the same in quality and taste, if not better, for half the price

coupons will save you a lot of money in the long run

there's no reason to be shy around employees at the bank/laundromat/store; most people will be happy to help

vegetarian diets are generally cheap if you make food from scratch

breakfast is as important as they say

keep track of your budget in a notebook or excel file - e.g. rent, phone and internet bills, food, leisure so you'll have an overlook on your spending over the months

don't gamble

piracy is okay

stealing from big stores and chains is also ethically okay

keep medical bills and pharmacy receipts for tax returns

also, file your tax returns early

take up a hobby that isn't in front of a screen. pottery, music, going for a run every now and then, stuff that'll keep you busy and sane

and most importantly... you're allowed to get the stuff you want. treat yourself to the occasional mundane thing. a good scented candle. a bath bomb. that body lotion that makes you feel like royalty. the good coffee beans.

you're free and you deserve to be happy.

[jingbang1]

Hot forging is a processing method that utilizes the plasticity of materials at high temperatures to plastic deform metal materials into the desired shape and size through external forces. The basic principle can be summarized as the following steps:

Material preheating: Heat the material to be forged in the furnace to the appropriate working temperature. The purpose of this step is to improve the plasticity of the material and reduce its resistance, so that plastic deformation can be more easily carried out in the subsequent forging process.

Forging die design: Design a suitable forging die based on the required shape and size of the parts. A forging die usually consists of two parts: an upper die and a lower die. The upper die is fixed on the slider of the forging press, while the lower die is fixed on the worktable. By controlling the up and down movement of the slider, the material is placed between the upper and lower molds for processing.

Material clamping: Before forging, the material to be forged needs to be clamped between the upper and lower molds. Usually, clamping tools such as fixtures or chucks are used to ensure the stability and safety of materials. Ensure that the clamping is secure to prevent displacement or material detachment during the forging process.

Forging operation: After the clamping is completed, the forging operation begins. By controlling the movement of the forging press and applying external force, the upper and lower molds exert pressure on the material. Under the combined action of high temperature and pressure, materials undergo plastic deformation and gradually reach the desired shape and size.

Cooling treatment: After forging is completed, appropriate cooling treatment should be carried out on the forgings. The cooling process helps to stabilize the structure and performance of forgings and prevent the generation of residual stresses. Common cooling methods include natural cooling, water quenching, or air cooling.

[alcamiglobale]

Mould Injection Moulding: A Comprehensive Guide to Its Process and Applications

Mould injection moulding is a widely used manufacturing process that enables the mass production of precision parts with high consistency and efficiency. This technique involves injecting molten material, typically plastic, into a pre-designed mould cavity to create complex shapes and structures. Its versatility, speed, and ability to produce detailed components make it a preferred choice in various industries. Let’s explore the process, advantages, and applications of mould injection moulding.

The Injection Moulding Process The mould injection moulding process consists of several steps, each essential to ensuring the production of high-quality parts

Clamping The mould is secured in the injection moulding machine, and the two halves are tightly clamped together to withstand the high pressure during injection.

Injection The raw material, typically in the form of plastic pellets, is melted in the barrel of the machine. The molten material is then injected into the mould cavity under high pressure.

Cooling Once the mould is filled, the material begins to cool and solidify into the desired shape. Proper cooling is crucial to prevent defects such as warping or shrinkage.

Ejection After the part solidifies, it is ejected from the mould using an ejector mechanism. The mould is then ready for the next cycle.

Post-Processing Depending on the requirements, the part may undergo additional finishing processes such as trimming, painting, or assembly.

Materials Used in Mould Injection Moulding A wide range of materials can be used in injection moulding, each chosen for its specific properties and application requirements. Common materials include

Thermoplastics: Such as ABS, polypropylene, and polycarbonate, offering versatility and recyclability.

Thermosetting plastics: Used for applications requiring heat and chemical resistance.

Elastomers: For parts needing flexibility and durability.

Additionally, advanced composites and biodegradable plastics are increasingly being used in response to sustainability goals.

Advantages of Mould Injection Moulding High Efficiency: Once set up, the process allows for rapid production of large volumes.

Precision and Detail: Capable of producing intricate shapes and tight tolerances.

Material Versatility: Suitable for a broad range of materials tailored to specific uses.

Cost-Effectiveness: Especially for high-volume production, as the cost per unit decreases with scale.

Waste Minimization: Excess material can often be recycled and reused in future cycles.

Applications of Mould Injection Moulding The applications of mould injection moulding span diverse industries due to its adaptability and precision:

Automotive Industry: For manufacturing components like dashboards, bumpers, and interior trim.

Medical Devices: Used to produce surgical instruments, syringes, and prosthetics.

Consumer Goods: Includes items such as containers, household appliances, and toys.

Electronics: For crafting durable casings, connectors, and components.

Aerospace and Defense: Producing lightweight and strong parts for specialized uses.

Emerging Trends in Mould Injection Moulding Sustainability Initiatives: The integration of biodegradable materials and energy-efficient machinery.

Automation: Robots and AI-driven systems to enhance precision and reduce labor costs.

Advanced Materials: Development of high-performance polymers and composites for specialized applications.

3D Printing Integration: Combining mould injection moulding with 3D printing for rapid prototyping and tooling.

For more info:-

Injection Molding

Plastic Molding

[dnyaneshkul]

Mold Maintenance: Tips for Longevity and Optimal Performance

Proper maintenance is essential to ensure the longevity and optimal performance of your molds. By implementing preventive maintenance practices and addressing common issues promptly, you can significantly extend the lifespan of your molds and minimize downtime.

Preventive Maintenance Tips

1. Regular Inspections

Visual Inspections: Conduct frequent visual inspections to identify signs of wear, damage, or corrosion. Check for cracks, pitting, or excessive wear on mold cavities, runners, and gates.

Functional Testing: Test molds periodically to ensure they are functioning as intended. Check for proper ejection, material flow, and part quality.

2. Cleaning and Lubrication

Cleaning: Regularly clean molds to remove contaminants that can cause corrosion or affect part quality. Use appropriate cleaning agents and techniques to avoid damaging the mold surface.

Lubrication: Lubricate moving parts, such as ejector pins and slides, to reduce friction and prevent wear. Use lubricants that are compatible with the mold material and the operating environment.

3. Temperature Control

Monitor Temperatures: Ensure that mold temperatures are maintained within the recommended range. Excessive heat or cold can lead to dimensional changes, warping, or premature wear.

Optimize Cooling: Ensure that cooling systems are functioning properly to maintain optimal temperatures. Consider upgrading cooling systems if necessary.

4. Storage and Handling

Proper Storage: Store molds in a clean, dry environment to prevent corrosion and damage. Cover molds when not in use to protect them from dust and contaminants.

Careful Handling: Handle molds carefully to avoid damage during transportation or storage. Use appropriate lifting equipment and avoid dropping or bumping molds.

5. Material Compatibility

Select Compatible Materials: Ensure that the materials used in molds are compatible with the molding materials and processing conditions. Incompatible materials can lead to chemical reactions or corrosion.

6. Mold Design Considerations

Optimize Design: Consider mold design factors that can affect maintenance, such as draft angles, venting, and cooling channel placement. A well-designed mold can be easier to maintain and less prone to problems.

7. Record Keeping

Document Maintenance: Keep detailed records of maintenance activities, including inspection results, cleaning, lubrication, and repairs. This information can help identify trends and optimize your maintenance schedule.

Common Mold Issues and Troubleshooting

Molding is a complex process that can be prone to various issues. By understanding common mold problems and their solutions, you can minimize downtime and ensure consistent, high-quality production.

1. Mold Flashing

Definition: Excess material that escapes the mold cavity and forms a thin, unwanted layer on the molded part

Causes: Improper venting, excessive pressure, mold misalignment, or worn-out ejector pins.

Troubleshooting:

Check and adjust venting.

Reduce injection pressure if necessary.

Ensure proper mold alignment and clamping.

Replace worn-out ejector pins.

2. Mold Ejection Problems

Definition: Difficulty in removing the molded part from the mold cavity.

Causes: Sticking, binding, or insufficient ejection force.

Troubleshooting:

Lubricate ejector pins and slides.

Adjust ejection force or consider using a different ejection method.

Check for mold design issues that may be hindering ejection.

3. Mold Wear and Tear

Definition: Gradual deterioration of mold surfaces due to repeated use.

Causes: Normal wear and tear, excessive pressure, or improper handling.

Troubleshooting:

Inspect molds regularly for signs of wear.

Repair or replace damaged components as needed.

Consider using harder materials or coatings to improve durability.

4. Mold Warping

Definition: Distortion of the mold cavity due to uneven cooling or thermal stress.

Causes: Inadequate cooling, temperature fluctuations, or improper venting.

Troubleshooting:

Improve cooling efficiency by optimizing cooling channel design or increasing cooling capacity.

Ensure proper venting to prevent trapped air pockets

Consider using materials with better thermal stability.

5. Mold Corrosion

Definition: Chemical degradation of the mold surface due to exposure to corrosive agents.

Causes: Exposure to moisture, acids, alkalis, or corrosive materials.

Troubleshooting:

Clean molds regularly to remove contaminants.

Use corrosion-resistant materials or coatings.

Store molds in a dry environment.

6. Mold Burn Marks

Definition: Darkened or charred areas on the molded part caused by excessive heat or friction.

Causes: Overheating, improper venting, or material degradation.

Troubleshooting:

Reduce injection temperature or adjust heating elements.

Ensure proper venting to prevent air entrapment.

Use materials that can withstand higher temperatures.

Extending Mold Lifespan

Avoid Overheating: Excessive heat can cause premature wear and deformation. Monitor mold temperatures and adjust process parameters as needed.

Proper Cooling: Ensure adequate cooling to prevent thermal stress and distortion.

Material Compatibility: Select materials that are compatible with the mold material to avoid chemical reactions and corrosion.

Proper Handling and Storage: Handle molds carefully to prevent damage during transportation and storage.

By following these guidelines, you can significantly extend the lifespan of your molds and minimize downtime. Regular maintenance, prompt troubleshooting, and proper care will help ensure that your molds continue to produce high-quality parts for years to come.