#naked yoga images

[idyllicidols]

Caught.

A/N: Tumblr tells me I've been on here for a year already. Time really flies! Just a quick one for Happy self anniversary and Merry Christmas.

***

"Hello?!"

Nayeon calls out as she enters your apartment, closing and locking the front door behind her. There's an eerie silence as she walks through the hall. Your door is slightly open, just a crack. Nayeon gives it a light nudge and pokes her head inside.

"Merry Christm-"

Nayeon drops her duffle bag by the foot of the bed, her breath quick and heavy. Her heart almost stops beating. Her body freezes, rigid with shock.

She hears groaning, coming from a figure laying on your bed in the center of the room. Your cock in your hand, your phone in the other, frozen in place while your best friend looks at you in disbelief.

You can't take your eyes off her, quickly placing your phone back onto the nightstand.

You didn't even think. The content of your phone remaining visible until the screen falls asleep: a photo of her - nothing even scandalous about it, just a photo of her, smiling at the camera with her cute bunny teeth and gummy smile—making a dumb cute little peace sign and acting like a goof. The screen finally goes dark, but the image is burned into her mind. A photo of her. You were jerking off to a photo of her. Your best friend.

Nayeon stumbles forwards, her mouth agape and her brain still failing to comprehend any of the shit that's happening.

It's like an out-of-body experience. Nothing makes sense anymore, everything is wrong. All the air seems to escape from her lungs, and all her thoughts melt out of her ears.

You lay there silently, your cock sitting on your stomach, covered with your own precum. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest, sweat sticks your hair to your forehead, heat emanates from every inch of your body. You should have heard her outside.

"Nayeon, it's not what you think."

"Oh yeah? What is it? Because this seems pretty fucking obvious to me."

"I don't know! I mean, I do, but...shit."

Nayeon fumbles through the photos. More images of her, from different angles, of different clothing, none particularly pornographic or inappropriate. A few shots that highlight the curve of her body, one that is focused on the swell of her firm ass, one from the front where you can see how snug her yoga pants are.

"So this is what you're into then, huh, jerk?"

Nayeon sits down on the bed with a thud. You're at a loss for words, laying next to her awkwardly, cock awkwardly hanging against your stomach. Nayeon doesn't speak at all. You can practically hear her think, processing this information, unsure what it means, uncertain whether she should feel flattered, used, hurt, betrayed, disgusted.

Without another word, or any kind of warning…

Nayeon starts to undress, her shirt thrown behind her. Her basic pink bra cups her petite breasts, a small layer of flesh rises up over the cup, but it's hard to make out. The top half of her torso, from her clavicle to her abdomen, is toned muscle, lithe and defined, feminine and sexy. You can't tear your gaze away from the taut curves of her shoulders, her arms, her hands, which start working on taking her jeans off.

"Keep going jerk. Touch yourself."

You look at her quizzically. Nayeon has never talked to you so harshly, especially about this kind of stuff, and even less while she was slowly stripping out of her clothes in your bed. This is a new side to her, your best friend still has the same looks to her, only now she's half-naked, stern and intense and almost angry as she watches you slowly jacking yourself, holding your member at a gentle but eager pace.

"Is this what you like? Pervert. Thinking about me while you jerk yourself off? Is the real thing better?"

Her barrage of questions makes your head hurt. Or perhaps it's just the amount of blood that seems to be going to your cock, as your mind fills with a haze of lust and desire. This condescending tone. The humiliation. Is this really what you're into?

Your thumb glides over your swollen, sensitive tip, a quiet moan escapes you as Nayeon lays next to you on her side, watching.

"Disgusting. Tch."

With each disparaging comment from her lips, the greater the pit forms in your stomach.

"You wanna see them?" Nayeon teases, letting one of her straps fall down her shoulder.

Your throat is dry. So fucking dry that it's hard to talk. So you nod your head in the most shameful and guilty way imaginable. It's Nayeon. Your Nayeon. There are boundaries that aren't supposed to be crossed and lines that shouldn't be crossed, and here you are, crossing them both.

She lets the other strap slip off her shoulder. Nayeon plays around with you a bit, letting just a hint of tit flesh spill out of the side before sliding the cups up again. After letting your pathetic begging whines linger for a minute, she undoes the hook of her bra in one smooth, single-handed motion and slowly takes it off.

"Well better or worse than what's in that fucked up head of yours?"

"Better..." You groan out, your hand instinctively reaching out towards her chest.

She slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist down into the mattress.

"Perv. Fucking touch me and I'll tear off your dick, got it?"

Nayeon said no touching, but she did nothing to stop you from jerking off in front of her. Actually, quite the opposite: Nayeon leans in even closer, her fingers trailing down the sides of her small perky tits. She lifts the small handfuls and gives them a playful shake, grinning at how desperately your mouth hangs open, lust clouding over your eyes, completely entranced. She knows full well she doesn't have a spectacular pair of melons, but in this case, she's fairly confident in them and what they're able to accomplish. And accomplishing a whole lot right now, it seems like.

You're mesmerized and enamored and lost and whatever the fuck else the synonyms for obsessed are. You want her. God do you ever want her, your arousal building more and more as Nayeon trails down the waistband of her underwear. Down, past her soft curving hips, exposing the tight pink slit underneath.

"You're not gonna cum already are you?" Nayeon mocks. "Look into my eyes" she orders, taking her thumb and giving your bottom lip a tug, forcing your drooling face to stare into her smoldering eyes, her tone still berating.

"Focus. Don't you look away, okay?"

A whimper and a nod. "Okay Nayeon." You're willing to do anything at this point, if only she allows you to keep staring at those brown bedroom eyes of hers. You are so fucking screwed.

"Good. Follow my fingers now. But remember, no touching." With that her hand slides down: down to neck, hovering over perfect handful of tits, gently pinching her rock hard nipples, a blissful smile washing over Nayeon as she does. Fingers trace around her navel, delicate and lovingly, teasing your poor erection with an agonizing display of sexuality and intimacy, torturous enough to make you beg for it, but never doing. Your balls feel so tight. Your entire pelvis feels like one massive tight knot.

"Keep watching..." Nayeon notices your blanked out expression, snapping her fingers to draw your attention back to her. Finally, finally! Her hands slither under the waistband of her underwear, and with a devious smirk, finally pulls her panties off and throws them to the floor. Nayeon presses a couple fingers to her nether lips, feeling the wetness, then showing off her slick coated finger to you.

"Wanna sniff?"

You want to so badly. It would only take a moment, it'd be so easy to cross over those inches. Her beautiful eyes. The girl you've known for so many years. Your best friend. You pathetically pant, like a dog who knows he shouldn't be begging his owner, but still hoping against hope to get the treats she has locked away.

Nayeon thrusts out her fingers again, rubbing them directly against your nose—smearing the honey across your upper lip. That heavenly sweet aroma. An explosion of alluring femininity that hits you like a brick, a thick waft of her womanly smell so strong and enticing.

And yet you can't touch, unable to do anything but pathetically touch yourself , like some kind of fugitive prisoner denied everything but the cruelest of tortures. You want to run. Escape from the intoxication and humiliation. To say 'let's just not ever bring this up again, be friends like we always were.'

But that'll never happen, not when Nayeon holds her hand over yours.

"Why don't you cum already eh? I'm waiting to see what a worthless perv like you looks like when he orgasms. Look at your gross, needy face."

If only you weren't so damn excited. A warm, burning sensation coils in your chest, pooling downwards. Nayeon isn't even touching it—there's no skin on skin contact with your cock. Instead she's using your hand like a puppet, pumping faster and faster, bringing yourself right to the brink, watching with wicked glee at the pitiful state you're in.

"Thinking about your best friend. After all we've been through. How the fuck do you even live with yourself? Pathetic."

A shudder goes through your body, as if you are absorbing the verbal abuse she gives you, making you even more aroused than before, feeling ashamed and dirty and alive. It's sick, perverted, and horrible, yet you revel in it, taking pleasure in feeling inferior, seeing her act with superiority and indifference to you and your pleas.

Her hand is over yours, her soft skin so close to your cock, yet so far—forcing your hand up and down, the head throbbing and swelling, unable to hold on any longer. Your entire focus is on Nayeon and her lithe touch. How her tiny tits jiggle ever so slightly when she moves. How her dark locks drift about her frame, flowing past her slim arms.

Before you even know it, you're blowing your load, feeling like a teenager in your own body, humiliated as it happens, almost falling backwards from the force, completely submitting to the control of another, spraying all over yourself, as Nayeon stares at you with disgust and contempt in her eyes. "You already came? God damn, that was even faster than I expected."

You can't stand the fact that you orgasmed within seconds of Nayeon touching you, even if it was over your hand. So easily able to dominate you, you are overtaken by desire, need and lust. By shame and embarrassment, your cock in your hand with jizz all over you.

She picks up her clothes and walks away, leaving you with a mix of shame and indignation, getting dressed while ignoring you.

As she is about to leave she turns back and faces you.

"See you tomorrow, pervert. Coffee. Yea?"

You're left alone, covered in jizz, looking down and watching yourself go soft and your member drip onto your lower belly. Your head is cloudy with afterglow, unhinged and confused feelings settle over you; part guilt, part exhilaration, all humiliation. Your body feels exhausted. The cold December air cools the sticky substance, drying it against you, you feel it, that's your shame, a shame that Nayeon exuded upon you and that you took pleasure in.

[fictionplumis]

I haven't gotten far enough in canon to know if it's confirmed that Essek floats because he has chronic pain or if that's fanon, but I love it because as someone with muscle inflammation I too would float instead of walking if given the chance.

But man, muscle atrophy is a thing and floating everywhere would probably make Essek's problems worse unless he has some good stretching routine on his more bearable days and that just gives me all kinds of mental images of Essek's potential routines, maybe including magic on rougher days to help ease gravity like water exercises would, and the occasional naked yoga routines on good days that also overlap with the days he feels like being an unbearable tease to Caleb.

Sorry Caleb, you can't interrupt your hot drow boyfriend's naked yoga time, it's important for his muscular health. Poor guy just has sit there pretending to read research notes while consumed with lust. Every so often Essek smells burning parchment and has to remind Caleb to please not set their research on fire by accident.

[bunniekittiee]

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader (as well as general headcanons)

Alright alright the Bi-Han headcanons was a success so ykw I’ll bless you all again. Also this is my depiction of Bi-Han so if you think I can tweak it and make it better then by all means let me know!

CW: mentions of eating problems, anxiety, illness, chronic illness, a little nsfw, nothing too crazy

Hair combing is an intimate ordeal.

He does not let anyone else touch his hair besides himself and you. He trusts you completely to comb his hair and even put it up for him.

He thinks you do it better than him, but he can manage it himself if needed.

He sighs with relief when his hair is let down, feeling his s/o’s fingers gently massage his aching scalp. It feels so good to him, he loves it.

Bi-Han does like the quietness. Especially after a long day of Grandmaster duties and irritation.

So if it is quiet during this time, he can close his eyes and almost fall asleep as you caress his hair and take care of him.

Sometimes he has fallen asleep when you are doing this.

If you were to ask Bi-Han to bathe together, he would silently go insane for a second and then agree.

Despite seeing you naked more than often, it still gives him butterflies in different scenarios that isn’t inherently sexual. Such as bathing.

He thinks you are beautiful, do not ever be negative about yourself around Bi-Han because he will immediately worry.

If you are worried about gaining weight, he is already overthinking that you will stop eating.

So instead, Bi-Han gently encourages you to train with the other Lin Kuei if you feel that you want to lose weight or prevent yourself from gaining weight.

No, he does not think you are fat at all, do not twist his words.

But Bi-Han is the type of man to give you solutions to help you but not in a rude way.

He just tries to encourage and give you options.

He will also suggest yoga with Kuai Liang. Kuai Liang usually meditates, but he will divulge himself in yoga for you if you are interested.

He does not like to see you sad or upset about your self image. It makes him feel helpless.

Bi-Han can handle a physical threat because he can eliminate it, but when it is a mental threat such as self image issues, depression, etc., Bi-Han finds himself unable to see straight.

Out of his brothers, I see Bi-Han struggling with some anxiety.

Like I said in my previous headcanons, Bi-Han worries for his s/o because she is his weakness. If anyone were to take her away from him, he would practically engulf everything in a blizzard.

I see Bi-Han having anxiety about his brothers as well, whether they are safe or going to be okay.

As much as Bi-Han shuns Smoke, he still worries for him. Smoke is the ‘baby’ of them all, and if he were to see him in any form of pain, he is already wanting to murder the person who inflicted it upon him.

That being said, if you have any sort of health issues that will literally send Bi-Han over the edge.

He is constantly having the medics check you over and he will be riddled with so much anxiety he will stop eating and sleeping well.

God forbid you have a chronic illness or anything at all, at that point Bi-Han will just have an aneurysm.

As tough as his exterior is, Bi-Han can be sensitive.

Please do not call him names, he doesn’t even do that to you and it will hurt his feelings.

He will distance himself and feel melancholy until you apologize. He doesn’t like it when you are rude or mean to him.

As I mentioned in my other previous headcanons, he does get snappy himself so he knows that he is a bit of a hypocrite.

If you were to communicate your feelings to him, whether it is your frustrations, sadness, or anger, he will understand and try his best to relax you and make you feel better.

You do the same for him, so it’s time that he repays that favor.

Bi-Han can be extremely busy with his duties and he knows you hate being cooped up for so long.

So he will allow Smoke and Kuai Liang to take you out, whether that’s for a walk or to Madame Bo’s, Bi-Han just wants to make sure you are happy.

I don’t know where people got the “jealous of my brothers being around my s/o” belief from, but Bi-Han trusts his brothers completely.

He has to, they go into battle and on quests together, they have to deeply trust each other and have a strong bond with one another.

So he lets his brothers take you out, he does not get jealous of that. They would never do anything to you, and Bi-Han knows it is completely out of character for them to do anything in the first place.

So yes, he lets you go out with his brothers and enjoy your time together when he is busy.

Again, he knows you get cooped up and he wants you to have some freedom.

His brothers love that you have somewhat changed Bi-Han but in a good way.

He is somewhat nicer to Smoke and refrains from telling him he is not part of their family. Last time he did, you gave him the absolute worst glare that even Kuai Liang felt his stomach turn.

Bi-Han is gentle as possible with you. His hands have killed and hurt many, he would hate to inflict the same pain on you.

You are like a flower to him, a delicate and precious lively being.

You have softened Bi-Han in many ways, and many appreciate what you have done.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Sneak Peek)

a/n:

hi, friends!

yet again, I deliver a 4,000 word 'sneak peek.' l m f a o.

like I've previously mentioned, the monstrosity that is Chapter 12 was initially part of Chapter 11. buuut due to these two being quite the stubborn pair, the chapters continue on their pattern of being much longer than the I anticipated. hopefully they tone down after chapter 12 comes out, but... there is no telling. lmao.

the chapter count has increased by like 2 (? I think.....) chapters, if you check out the masterlist you'll see that. the ideas just keep on coming on my long drives to work everyday, as I blast the playlist to this silly little story.

plz enjoy the cringe manip of Josh... I couldn't help making it. just had to see him in the booth at Jungle Juice for god knows what reason l o l.

Warnings: (as always: MDNI 18+); vivid recollection of unprotected p in v sex; self doubt; body image issues; sadness; heartache; pregnancy; mentions of infidelity (sry not sry, maya); as always, if i missed anything that is triggering to you, PLEASE lmk!

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Arguably, as you left that yoga class, you felt the most relaxed you had in a long while. 

Your belly was still heavy at your front, but everything else felt so loose. Weightless. It was nice.

Josh had decided afterwards that it was a good plan to get a couple of smoothies. And who were you to argue that? It was even more tempting since he’d offered to buy them.

The drive to and from all of your ventures had been nice. You two had listened to music most of the car ride – enjoying the soul music you’d both bonded over several years ago. 

But, as soon as “You’re All I Need To Get By��� came on the shuffle, you quickly reached forward to skip past that one. And, it must have been your lucky day because as soon as that one was out of the way, the other song from that morning on the living room floor was playing. 

"(You Make Me Feel Like) A (motherfucking) Natural Woman", to your lovely surprise. Because why not?

The only songs you’d skipped and, of course, Josh had noticed. 

He’d snorted at you, making you glance in his direction. “What did Miss Aretha do to you?” 

“Nothing,” you shook your head with a lip stuck out. “Just didn’t feel like listening to those songs, I guess.”

I imagine your brother stark naked, inside of me, when I hear those songs, if you must know, you thought with a skip to your heart at the memory. And that’s just not what I need at the moment, Joshua.

And, with absolutely zero surprise, you were back in that damn living room. No point in skipping the songs, it seemed. The gray morning, rain pittering against the windows. The stupid idea you’d had, forever haunting your association with the Queen of Soul.

You’d just sat up on your elbows to watch him as he thumbed through the records, appreciating the view. “You pick and I’ll let you know if I like.”

And, as he’d searched through the albums, you’d just let your mind wander, right along with your eyes. . .

His body was a work of art. Always would be. Your favorite work of art. 

His thighs, ever-muscular, from the way they flexed when he’d move his body with his guitar on stage. 

That perfectly round ass that was undoubtedly gifted to him by the body gods. 

And his broad shoulders – strong to match his equally strong personality.

When he’d turned a bit towards you, you’d been given an image you’d never forget. His eyes, quickly scanning the back of a vinyl. And as he did so, your eyes had instantly found his straining dick. 

And, in the current moment, right next to his goddamned twin brother, you had to cross your damn legs at the thought of Jake’s dick. Fuck everything. Even if you shouldn't, all you wanted was Jacob Kiszka. All. You. Wanted. It was stupid to ever think you could convince yourself out of that particular desire. 

You could still imagine every detail from the morning. His tip, swollen from being pulled mid-sex. Your clit thrummed and twitched in current time at the thought, remembering how he'd still glistened from your dripping center. 

He’d turned to you fully, the Aretha Franklin vinyl in his grip – her Greatest Hits. You’d found his eyes. They were questioning, but you hadn’t been able to focus entirely on his glance. No, you’d looked away from his eyes to admire your most favorite parts of his body. 

His toned pecs and his solid stomach— fuck. They made you fucking weak.

There were truly no words for the way he was built— pecs naturally firm and rounded with lean muscle. 

And his stomach— just a little soft and the perfect finish to it all, complimenting him just right— finishing out his sturdy, powerful stature. 

His aura would always be compelling. He was utterly beautiful, with his sparkling amber-brown eyes, flowing chestnut locks – even longer now than then – and his sharp features. And the way he was built matched so well with how he carried himself. Without even trying, he could control any room he was in. 

(And control you with a simple snap of his fingers.)

He was honestly what all of your dreams were made of.

And, in moments from the past, like the sacred one you were remembering. . . you remember wishing everyday – more than anything – that he was yours. Still wanted him to be yours. You could remember thinking. . . no matter how bad you could be for him, your selfish wants had you constantly feeling pulled towards Jake.

But. . . he wasn’t yours. Not then. Not now. 

And that bitter thought had helped to snap you out of your trance on that simplistic, perfect morning. You'd finally looked at him to answer. 

He was smirking, knowingly. “I love your body, too, Beautiful.”

Your thighs pressed even closer together as you tapped out the beat of the current song on your thighs. A Minnie Riperton song. Just focus on Minnie. Tried to remember the moment you were currently in. . . But you couldn’t. Not yet.

Wait. Minnie. This song. You focused for a second. Was fucking "Memory Lane" playing? O-kay. Your life was truly hilarious. (Meaning, it was, in fact, not hilarious in the slightest.)

You tried to tune her out, rejecting the lyrics that hit far too close to home for your taste. But all that happened when you tuned her out, was Jake repeating the statement about your body. . . You could only hear those words from his mouth on repeat when you squeezed your eyes shut, so tightly.

With a gentle touch, you placed a hand to the bottom of your tummy to hold it. Your body now was nowhere near the same as it had been then. . . 

How the fuck would he talk about your body now? You knew how he felt about some of your newer assets. But. . . how would it feel now to hear him say things like that about your body? During sex? His dick, impossibly hard and leaking for your current, swollen body? Your belly, your bigger breasts? Your fuller thighs. . . Would he look at you the same during sex now? 

Fuck. Why were you even thinking like that?! You were imagining things that were only breaking your heart. . . Getting your mind in a dangerous space it did not need to be in.

Realizing it was slightly safer in your memories, you leaned back against your headrest to feel the rest of the moment.

You’d flushed at the words then. Even going the extra mile to roll your eyes. Tried your best to play off the way his words made your heart flutter. Ridiculous attempt. With a peek briefly at the record, you nodded at the choice. “Aretha is always a yes.”

“Agreed.”

He’d turned to put it on the Crosley, and as soon as the needle hummed against the record, making its wonderful crackling sound, you knew he’d made the right choice. This record was something else.

And now, the Greatest Hits vinyl held your heart in ways you could’ve never imagined on that rainy morning.

You could remember how it felt to watch him – the intoxicating combination of seeing him walk back to you, with some of the most incredible music backing him. . . Shit. (If you know, you fucking know.)

“I hope you don’t mind. I skipped past the first few,” he’d said as he came back to you, falling to his knees beside you. So near to you and ready to resume sex with you. There'd been no constraints. No girlfriends. No ugly voice in the back of your head telling you how terrible you were for him. Things were still perfect. 

You’d smiled up at him. “Perfectly fine. This is the best song on the entire record anyway.” 

“I think so, too,” he said, eyes lifting with a grin.

God. You felt tears climbing your throat, right next to Josh, as you thought of his sweet face. The smile on his lips that could have cured every single piece of trauma ever. . . If you would have let it. He was so goddamn perfect. And you were. . . well. . . you.

Then, he’d come back to you. Laid on his back for you as you angled your body to straddle him, sinking onto him.

The look on his face when you fucked him was one of your favorite sights. He’d always watched you so closely. . .whether it be your face, your breasts, your ass, or your center that wrapped around him, so tight. He’d scrunch his brows and let his mouth open a bit with certain movements of your hips, and bite his lip at other times. . . 

But, in moments like this one, with one hand holding your face while the other gripped your hip, a small, close-mouthed smile on his soft, plush lips. . . His emotion-filled eyes, boring into yours . . .

Your world had always tipped slightly on its axis when he’d do shit like that. Moments like the one from many mornings ago. . . Those moments had never failed to make a whole lot of gray in what should have been a strictly black and white situation. 

And, as you’d listened to the soulful voice flowing quietly from the record player, your thoughts drifted further. . .

When my soul was in the lost and found,

You came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me,

Till your kiss helped me name it.

The song had perfectly summed up how you felt about this man. The same man who had once been the bane of your existence, was now a light on your darkest days. 

And, in the present time. . . the father of your baby. Fuck.

As you’d glanced down to watch him, his hips had begun to move on their own – never failing to make you feel complete and right. . . You truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. 

Having him around made you feel . . . whole. Without even knowing or trying, he’d helped you find missing pieces to your puzzle. Found hidden pieces of your soul that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Some good pieces. Some bad pieces. But all necessary pieces of you. Pieces you’d forgotten even existed. And by simply being near you, he made you feel authentic in a way you’d never felt with another man. 

As you’d continued riding him, you had leaned down on your forearms to get close to his face. His handsome, handsome face. You’d given him a long kiss. A kiss that you’d hoped, then, was able to say thank you. . . Because, truly, you were so grateful for him. 

But when you’d separated your lips from his and pressed your perspired forehead to his own, you’d found the deep pools of his eyes that held so much of your world in them. And you’d known then that you had to say the words out loud.

“Thank you,” you’d whispered, hoping he’d understand as new tears had clouded your vision. Your hips were moving languidly at the perfect pace, matching the slow rocking of his hips. You’d been holding onto him, keeping rhythm with the beautiful, now-special song.

He’d held your gaze for more than a few moments, a secret smile forming in his eyes as he spoke. “Thank you.”

You’d studied him seriously, the feeling in his eyes seeming to match the longing in your heart. Both of you had stayed there for a minute, taking the other in. 

You’d kissed him once more. And, rather than continuing the conversation, you’d focused on finding a release for you both. 

That hadn’t even been “You’re All I Need To Get By”. . . Not yet. No, that song, that blissful melody from your memory, was “You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman)”. . . And that he did – he made you feel like the melodies of that song. Always would. He was every lyric of that song, sealed forever in your heart that way.

But the next song. . . When you’d fallen apart on top of him. And him, just barely pulling out in time, to finish onto your tummy. . . All while the song had been surrounding you, enveloping your senses. . .

“Y/n!” Josh’s voice called to you from the current moment, his fingers making you jump a bit, your eyes hurriedly blinking open as he continued to snap in front of your face. “Earth to y/n!”

Fuck. How were you going to explain getting lost like that? Thankfully, your eyes had been closed almost the entire time. You could just say you’d been sleeping. 

“I was just sleeping, Josh,” you lamely explained, looking to your right, hoping you were already at the cafe.

And, for once, fate had worked in your favor, as he’d just parallel parked at Jungle Juice. Perfect timing. Avoid avoid avoid.

You hadn’t missed the curious look in his eye after your barely-there explanation or the way he’d opened his mouth to begin to question you. But as soon as he’d parked, you were hopping out of that Jetta. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were just sitting down, pomegranate smoothie in hand, at a table inside. Josh was still at the counter, you having instantly put distance between the two of you. As you sat, your mind briefly drifted to the mundane task of taking a seat. You noticed how much easier than normal it was to simply sit comfortably, thanks to the yoga. 

Soon, Josh was sitting down across from you. And, after he took one tiny drink of his smoothie, he pushed it ahead of him with a huff. His fluffy mess of curls flowed around his head with the noise. 

There should’ve been no surprise when he didn’t drop what you'd started in the car. His ass had practically just touched his booth bench when he was asking you. “What the fuck is it with those songs?”

“What?” You crinkled your brow at that. He hadn’t ever been around before for you to skip past those songs. For all he knew, you’d literally fallen asleep after the relaxing yoga class. “Just didn’t feel like hearing them today. And I got tire–.”

“Jake gets weird when they come on, too. . .,” he interrupted with a raised brow, trailing off as if lost in thought while addressing you. “Specifically “You’re All I Need”,” he mumbled, sort of to himself as he looked down at the table. Then his eyes flashed back to yours. “And, no. You were not sleeping. Faker.”

Damn. Yeah, there was no explaining your way out of this one. Were you really going to have to be honest with him? It did not feel like the time – for more reasons than one. But you decided you’d say what you could. . . Maybe you could make him uncomfortable enough to move on. . .

“Jake and I just had some incredible sex to those songs,” you began, eyes not once leaving his. He held firm, even after that blatant statement. Okay. Second try. But you had to look down for this part, too embarrassed to look at Josh as you said it. “Got really close to making the baby that morning rather than the night we got high. He pulled out just in time to aim it on my bell–.”

“Noooo thanks,” the curly-headed twin stopped you, holding up a hand with his lips turned down. “That’s enough. Truly. Thank you, I now know what I need to know.”

You raised a brow, a tiny smirk on your lips as a laugh squeaked past your lips. “Joshua. You didn’t need to know any of that.”

“Well. . . maybe you’re right,” he surmised with another small sip from his green drink. 

“I usually am,” you answered, relieved that he’d gotten all he wanted – no, needed – to know. “So, how are things going with–?” “Also, you are not ‘usually right’, my dear,” he corrected you, air quotes and all. His nose twitched with his own grin as he watched you narrow your eyes in his direction. “I can tell you that right now. Your little speech from last night. . . You and Jake both. Fuck,” he snorted before taking another drink. He covered his mouth with a silent laugh before smoothing the hand down the side of his face. “Both of you are the worst liars to ever live.”

The breath you should’ve been breathing got stuck in your lungs. Where was he going with this? This had the potential to be an extremely embarrassing and awkward conversation you weren’t in the headspace to have. “What are you talking about, Josh?” 

“You and my twin, claiming you were ‘nothing’,” he began, lips quirked with a close-lipped grin and the air quotes coming out to play again with the word you’d both used to describe your situationship. “That all your relationship was was one night of meaningless sex that resulted in my niece or nephew.”

Niece, you silently added. You suddenly wanted to tell him really badly. But you would let Jake do that. Made a note to tell him he could do that whenever he was ready. 

“I just find it funny,” he finished, his mouth still curved into a smirk. “I’m pretty sure we all knew that you were lying out of your asses. Well. . . except for that Theo guy. He’s kind of a moron.”

How did you even respond to this? Did you lie? Confide? Half-heartedly agree? Completely avoid it and tell him you didn’t want to discuss it? Fuck if you knew. 

So, you just began talking. 

“How are you so confident in this assumption that we were lying about it being nothing?” You quizzed him, taking a drink to hide a little. “You didn’t even know that we were doing it while we were doing it. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you didn’t know because it was nothing more than sex?”

“Oh, y/n. How in the world can you begin to question my empathic tendencies? You know I’d sensed the difference in Jake,” he reminded you, noting back to your day of the first OB appointment. “And, the more I thought back on it, I remember there being a rise in your spirits during the summertime as well. . . Only towards the end of it did you get all mopey. When, I can only assume, you started doubting yourself and Jacob. Enough so that Jake wanted to host a night to raise your spirits. . .,” he trailed off, taking another drink before tapping a finger to his chin, sitting the cup on the table.

“But, yes. You were nothing, mhm,” he continued with a sardonic nod, closing his eyes briefly with a mischievous grin before he was looking at you again. “You both were noticeably different – good different. And he noticed every shift in your mood. . . You got emotional way back on the day of that first ultrasound when I brought up his relationship with Maya. . . Um, what else? Oh! The motherfucker takes you to therapy! Of course he does, because you feel safe with him. Big fucking deal, by the way. And, yes, I know all of this, y/n – I’m watchful. Don’t you argue that fact with me,” he pointed at you with a raised brow and a slight smile. “. . .But. You were nothing. Okay.”

Well. “I–.”

“And then last night,” Josh giggled, taking a sip of his smoothie before placing his hands on the table in excitement. “Jake had his hands up your shorts, touching you. . . like that in front of everyone–.” 

“It was a card he was playing, Jo–.”

“. . .Whispering in your ear, your fuckin’ body reacting to it. His bodily reaction to it – I mean, with an unfortunate glance downwards, anyone was privy to that situation in his pants,” he outwardly cringed, lips turned down as he shook his head at the thought. He’d been that noticeably hard? Fuck. “And then, going to the bathroom to relieve himself with everyone in the living room!” Josh couldn’t stop his wail of a laugh at the end of the last line, attracting multiple eyes from fellow customers at the sound. 

“Josh, be quiet–,” you tried to intervene, once again getting stopped with his rambling.

“Well, not everyone, per se. I wish Elsie could have experienced that shit,” he shook his head again, but this time with a laugh as if remembering a fond memory. “She would have gotten a kick out of the free porn!”

Free PORN?! Josh.

“Joshua!” You were stunned, his voice still a higher decibel than it should have been for a proper establishment like Jungle Juice. Voice hushed, you leaned towards him. “Please quiet the fuck down.”

He observed your expression, still cackling. But soon, it calmed down. Calmed down enough to where he was still letting out little huffs of laughter, but his eyes bulged a bit. He seemed to remember at that very moment that it wasn’t just the two of you. Face set straighter than before, he turned, looking around to hastily address the people near you with an apology. 

Meanwhile, your cheeks were positively burning at everything he’d said. How in the hell did you even begin to address that shit? And why was it always on you and never Jake? 

When he was facing you again, you decided to try that line. Just to gain your bearings. “Are you going to quiz Jake like this? Or is it only the emotional pregnant lady who’s getting the heat?”

“Oh, he got it first. I actually crashed his and Maya’s morning this morning,” he replied, waving it off. Your stomach dropped at the thought of them in bed together, like you knew it shouldn’t. “Well. . . if I can even phrase it as such. Maya was getting completely ignored by him. He’d separated himself as much as possible from her, his body was practically pushed against the wall. I know she noticed how far detached he was, though. . . She was looking his way when I barged in, a sad look on her face and everything. Poor thing. Didn’t take much for me to make her leave.”

The way you snorted at that was unstoppable. He what? “Josh! You made her leave?”

“Well, again – if I can even phrase it like that,” he shrugged, one hand waving nonchalantly in the air with a roll of his eyes. “Like I said, she was already awake when I went in. I think she’d just woken up to notice he’d pulled totally away from her,” he grit his teeth, baring them with a hiss as he shook his head. “So it didn’t take much more than me asking if I could please talk to my brother for her to leave. She was already kind of pissy, so she readily agreed. I’m sure she thought I was going to confront him about blatantly cheating on her in front of us all.”

Blatantly cheating. Harsh words. True words. You felt guilty at them. Because, yes, you’d completely joined in on Jake’s antics – helped him be unfaithful to her. To be fair, you couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried. . . Hence your new determination to be nothing more than a friend. 

As much as it sucked.

“Did you? Confront him?” Was all you could croak out. 

“I did confront him about it, yes,” he nodded assuredly, his tone stern. Damn. Was he actually super pissed? Why had he been all giggly if he was so angry? 

So, you started apologizing. You felt really bad and you didn’t know what else to do. 

“I’m sorry, Josh. I don’t know what came over me. I just couldn’t–.”

“Help yourself?” 

You blinked with a nervous gulp. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well, of course not,” he replied, intonation light once again. You blinked again, this time in shock at the change in attitude. He continued before you could question it. “He couldn’t either, it seemed. There was no other reason for him to act so rashly in front of all of us.”

It was silent for a few seconds, your brain blanking on what to even respond to that. You were curious what he’d said to Jake. What Jake had responded. But you were scared to ask – didn’t want to make even more of an ass out of yourself by prying. 

Thankfully, Josh kept on before you could consider it any longer. “So, I told him this morning,” Yes! He was going to divulge. You tried not to look too interested. He cleared his throat, his eyes finding yours seriously, your stomach dropping at what he could have said. “I told him that if he’s going to do that shit, he needs to keep it out of Maya’s sight. Because, while I don’t condone cheating, I do condone my brother being happy. And hopefully, she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway, so the cheating won’t even have to be a thought. Keeping it out of her sight and all - won’t be an issue.”

Stunned. You were stunned. What the fuck?! Josh had told him what?!

You couldn’t stop staring at him. Your eyes, wide and expression shocked. The way your mouth hung open would have been more embarrassing had you been more aware of how much it gaped. But before you could give it much more thought, you were talking without thinking. 

“Excuse me?” You responded, rather loudly, you must say. "You told him what?!"

“Y/n!” Josh laughed, eyes bugged, pointing towards you before waving his hands theatrically around the restaurant. “‘Please quiet the fuck down.’”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: I, personally, value Josh's opinions on the matter...... what about you? ;)

also. free porn. l m a o.

Taglist:

@jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles

[stellayuta]

Rin doing Yoga in the anime had me bawlinggg idk why It also put the image of Yoga Sex with Rin in my mind and now I can't stop thinking about ittt

How about writing something about that?

thanks for putting the image in my head too

mdni, 18+ only

★Rin Itoshi - Yoga S*x☆

The 'R' in Rin stood for routine. He was awake by 5 AM and done with his early morning strength training and jog by 7 AM. To ease the pain of exhausting his stamina and muscles at dawn, he chose Yoga as a means to stretch his body out and soothe the soreness. The upkeep of being a pro footballer was not a regular man's deal after all.

You had never seen his routine ever before because you loved your sleep more than Rin did. In fact, you only knew about his routine in detail because his sports manager scolded him because he refused to take a break from working out even during his off time from the football season. You on the other hand, if there wasn't a reason to wake up before 8:00 AM, you won't. That was the law. Usually, you'd just join a freshly rejuvenated Rin for a hearty breakfast with a yawn and kickstart your day.

One fine morning though, you were forced awake by the sheer heat of the house. It was the middle of the harshest summer Japan had to offer as of late, and you were hoping that for whatever reason the AC was off, it'd better be a good one. You got out of the bed, kicking the musty sheets away from you and swiped at the sweat forming on your forehead. You were melting away even when you were only in a pair of skimpy shorts and a paper-thin tank top. You checked the time before you made your way out of your bedroom - 7:00 AM. The rest of the house was a degree cooler than your oven-like bedroom, but it was enough for you to forget where the thermostat was. That's when you remember that it was Rin who usually handled the thermostat. Maybe it was him who switched the AC off? But... why?

You make your way to the living room to locate the thermostat and are greeted by the most astonishing and unexpected sight right in front of you.

Rin Itoshi's bare back is facing you as he stretches himself out into complicated poses on his yoga mat while soaking in the radiant sun seeping in from the open windows. There is not a single item of clothing on his body. He sighs as he skillfully changes positions and focuses on the left side of his body, balancing himself on the mat. You gawk at his marvelous form as Rin's body shines lusciously under the sunlight, as if lathered by coconut oil and Epsom salts and his own sweat - which it probably is.

"Rin?" you call out without meaning to, making the Itoshi jerk his head up in confusion and smiling when he sees you.

"You up early?" he asks as if he isn't laid out in front of you like a whole meal ready to be ravished.

"Well, the AC woke me up." you say honestly, approaching him as he seats himself on his mat in a lotus pose. You stare at how his limp member and ball sack hang, tucked inside his folded thighs. That's all you can stare at or pay attention to now as you feel a shiver creep up your core and you press your legs together.

"That was my bad. I'm sorry, I usually do this out on the balcony but the neighbors are doing garden-work and obviously, I don't want them to see." he says. Foolish Rin...

"Have you been out on the balcony doing yoga butt naked everyday?" you exclaim. "Rin! People other than the neighbors can see you too you idiot!"

"Are you worried someone might click pictures?" he asks coyly, holding out his hand to entrap yours. It is all slick and sticky with oil and heats up your body even more.

"Have you seen yourself? Anyone would." You say, playing with the hem of your shorts with your other hand. Things are getting sticky inside your body too now.

"Want to try it?" Rin asks, already sliding your shorts down your bare thighs. You don't sleep with underwear on when wearing those pair of shorts. "Oh, look at that." Rin says, cocking his head at the bare delta of your womanhood.

"Come here." he says, kissing your mound generously making you whimper. You grab at his green hair and try to stop yourself from crumbling.

"Y/N. Position your knee like this." he says, folding you knee and pressing your foot to the thigh of your other leg.

"Hands up and palms together." he demands and you follow, keenly trying to balance on one leg. "That's the tree pose." he tells you and you nod. "Great position for what I'm about to do." he says with a smirk, inching closer, his lower lashes hitting your thighs.

The way Rin ravages you over the next few minutes has you praying you don't fall over. The position gives Rin enough freedom to hit some of the most stubborn and well-hidden bundles of nerve inside you with relative ease. His tongue is as flexible as his body was a while ago. You are left croaking as Rin digs his nails into the sides of thighs, shamelessly making slurping noises as he eats you out. Soon enough, you let your hands free from the pose and start rolling your hips onto his face, eyeing him from the top - his reactions, the way his brows tense up, the way he looks up at you occasionally. You force him to hit your most sensitive innards as you finally come undone on his tongue and face without asking. Unbeknownst to you, the lewdness of the whole situation and Rin's skill made you come a LOT. As your eyes are shut and you are unable to process anything around you, Rin is collecting your plentiful essence in his palms. When you finally come to and regain your usual breathing rhythm you find Rin playing with the sticky substance in his hands.

"R-rin?" you ask, eyelids half closed. "What are you doing with that, wipe it off!"

"Nah." Rin says, keeping his eyes on your cum in his hands. "I was in a dilemma since I ran out of oil for you, but you solved my problem." he says and it takes a second for you to understand what he's about to do.

He takes his palms and rubs them all over your body. Your chest, your hips, your navel and your thighs.

"Feel good?" he asks, pressing your back to make you lay on the ground on all fours. "Feels good to be covered in your own slick?"

"Anything for you, Rinnie." you say, wondering why he is pulling one of your legs horizontally. "You're so weird you know."

"I know." he admits. "Balancing Table Pose."

"Wha-?" Before you can finish your question though, Rin rams full force into you from behind. "Keep you other hand up, pretty please. I don't like it when the form is incorrect."

you sniff as your muscles hurt from maintaining the pose. Yet still, after a few seconds your body gets used to it and the pleasure doubles as one each of your arms and legs is up in the air while Rin's pace increases. He presses his chest against your back and keeps the rhythm going, pounding in and out savagely. His angle is so unpredictable, his length is going left and right and top and bottom inside of you, making you scream his name in pleasure. You feel the head of his member in full intensity with one leg up and you feel it's bulbous shape ebb at your cervix with how long Rin is. You so want to see how red his tip is, how angrily it must be leaking out pre-cum right now.

"Ah, just a bit more." he says next to your ear, huffing and puffing as he increases the power of his thrust as you feel your eyes roll back into your head.

"Ah, There. Yes!" Rin scrunches up his face. "Yes!" his tongue lolls out - an occurrence when he is at peak pleasure.

He empties himself inside of you as you feel your abdomen fill up with his sticky liquid.

"There we go." he says, gasping and pulling himself out of you as you drip all over onto his mat, sinking to your knees.

"Session Complete." he says, bringing his towel to your hole.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Sewn Into You | tiltreality33 | [167k] Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won't be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family's business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend's couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.

The weekend | words_of_my_own | [92k] They make the bed together, Louis with his clothes on and Harry still naked, and they laugh a bit about it. But Harry is also rather chuffed about the fact that Louis thirstily lingers with his look on his body more often than not. When Harry is dressed too, he walks up to Louis, where he waits by the door. “I wanna kiss you. Is that bad?” He whispers, crowding Louis against the back of the door, leaning in close to his face. “I don’t care about the answer, just do it already.” Louis whispers back and grabs Harry by his neck and pulls him in. ******************** In a universe where Harry's and Louis' respective relationships are idling - without them fully realising it before - they meet at a swinger weekend. Louis is an experienced swinger goer, and even though Harry probably is the most attractive guy he's ever wanted to hook up with at a party like this, he's supposed to be just that: another swinger hookup. Harry has never swinged before and soon finds it slightly hard to distinguish between the want for sexual exploration and the want for one particular guy.

Fight For Us | FallingLikeThis | [11k] Louis isn’t okay. It’s beyond wrong, the way they’re held in a cage waiting to be chosen for mating. It’s the way it’s been all Louis’ life, but he never wanted to end up like this. He’d hoped against hope that he’d present as a beta since they don’t have these same restrictions on them. They don’t have to adhere to their biology. And one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

Ocean Wave Blues | babyhoneyhslt | [49k] After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas. With the help of his alpha-quartermaster Niall, he manages to keep his secondary gender hidden from everyone except his most trusted crew, as he operates under his late Alpha’s name. Captain Payne. Everything changes when his ship is taken hostage by Pirate Captain Louis. To keep his crew, and himself, alive, Harry must play the part of dutiful Omega who’s waiting for his Alpha’s return.

True Colours | Darling28 | [90k] Harry has everything he wanted for now; his own yoga studio in London and hardly any contact with his family. Yes, he's a bit lonely, but that's okay. It's better than having a new participant who disrupts the class with his swearing and brings down Harry's beautifully constructed self-image with his bum in those tight leggings. It's a hard road to self-acceptance and breaking free from the shackles of the past, but Louis is always by his side. Until Harry suddenly wants more and everything is once again on the brink of collapse.

don't be afraid to love (and love again) | localopa | [83k] All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt. As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s. Louis is a boy. He knows he is. or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream is an artist experiencing a spate of creativity since he's found a new muse -- a gorgeous (mystery) man who excercises (shirtless running/yoga) in the park near Dream's studio. All his current art are studies of this guy's back and arms (and ass, and package); Dream's gotten in to sculpting just to try and work out the need to feel this man's body under his finger tips.

One of Hob's friends brought him to this art show, modern art stuff isn't really Hob's bag, but he'll take free booze. Hob walked into the show and isn't sure why he's blushing, but all the art is like staring at himself, naked in a public mirror. Hob might have a slight exhibition kink, but this all seems so (personally) intimate.

Dream is hiding behind the full body sculture of his muse,,,,,staring at his blushing muse --- in person.

AKAKADJAH this amazing

Hob: that's... that's my butt.

Jo: huh? wait, holy shit, that's your BUTT

Hob has always considered himself quite a plain man, really. He's got a decent body, nothing special. He's not super tall, or super muscular. He's been trying really hard to do the whole "self love" thing, actually - and that's where the idea of working out shirtless came from. Jo suggested that maybe stopping himself from hiding his body under baggy jumpers would be a good start.

It has helped, and Hob feels a lot more confident... but even with his improved self image, being surrounded by lovingly worked, passionate art depicting his body? Its a lot. A lot in a good way, though.

And then someone grabs him by the arm and he's being unceremoniously hauled into what seems to be a supply cupboard. There's a slim, surprisingly forceful man in front of him, looking like he wants to confess a terrible crime. Hob puts 2 and 2 together quickly.

"I feel like you should probably pay me for my services, mister artist. I could have racked up hours of modelling fees if you'd only asked." He grins. The man's cheeks turn very pink.

"If I promise you a fee, this time." He says, in a sinful voice that makes Hob want to melt. "May I touch you? I would like to find out if your glutes have the weight and texture I had imagined."

And that's how Hob ends up getting groped and eventually fingered until he cums inside his nicest pair of trousers. Apparently his butt is everything Dream had... dreamed of. He even takes a picture.

Hob will never feel plain again. Especially when he wakes up in the artist's bed the next morning... and finds Dream already working on a scale model of his morning wood. In a few months the final product will have pride of place on their (shared) coffee table, because Dream refuses to sell his boyfriend's gorgeous cock to anyone else.

[jamesandanthony]

On a scale of "bearable" to "oh god my eyeballs*, how bad is Resisting Roots?

I feel this image sums it up pretty well 😆

like the script is so terrible ('are you implying I'm a man whore' continues to be my favourite line from anything ever) and the second hand embarrassment is a little real but also it's funny (for the wrong reasons admittedly) and a little silly and you get to see a half naked lou being contorted into various yoga positions soooo 🤷‍♀️

definitely overall leaning towards oh my god my eyeballs but also a classic example of something doesn't have to be good to be enjoyable 😆

[bubuslutty]

Day 4: baked salmon

this is part 4, all parts

pairing: demon/angel!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.3k

tags: no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: none

summary: Angel accidently falls asleep under the sun and gets saved by a knight in shining armor, or an angel, it's the same thing in her head, both glowing and glorious. + imagine getting cockblocked by potatoes 🧍‍♀️

a/n: I know the chapters are called day 2, day 3, ect but it doesn't necessarily mean they happen one right after the other, it's just days of her interacting with the boys.

Two days in the office as a sex therapist wasn't too bad. Angel actually likes working with clients because she gets to see humans and how they react to their environment and relationships, with others and themselves. Of course, she had to do a bit of homework and study to be qualified, but it’s nothing a couple of days of intense learning and superhuman intelligence couldn’t fix. All she had was to tap into her powers and suddenly, she knew everything she had to know.

How convenient it was to be an angel, or a demon in her case.

Angel’s usual wish assignments are more often than not related to earthly desires such as money, fame and lust, maybe love too, but she always had to realise wishes that were considered a sin in many religions. Greed, gluttony, lust. She has worked with all of them. And whether those wishes were good or evil, it doesn’t matter to her, because fate takes care of that, her job is to realise the wish and nothing else.

By human standards, she would definitely be considered a demon, a succubus even, especially now.

“I should get a tattoo…” Angel mumbled, lounging on her messy bed, laptop on her stomach, looking at images of succubus womb tattoos. Kuromi meowed, removing the woman’s attention from her laptop’s screen.

“Hm?” Angel hummed, looking at her cat, standing by her bedroom door. Kuromi meowed again, making Angel gasp, “Yes! You’re so right!”

The woman immediately closed her laptop and ran to her phone, checking the weather. It looked like today was going to be hot and nice, even though it was cold as shit the day before.

That’s typical British weather for you.

“You’re so smart, Kuromi.” Angel said and sent a flying kiss to the cat, who lifted her tail and walked out, completely unbothered. Angel opened one of her drawers that had multiple bikinis and swimsuits. She started getting naked on the spot, excited to change and go downstairs to sunbathe in her garden. When she changed into one of her bikini sets, she dug for one of her hats and got a random green bucket hat for the sun, shades and a bottle of suncream.

If there’s one thing she’ll never forget while being in this realm, is that the sun is unforgiving and harsh, unless you want to look like a baked salmon or get skin cancer, you have to protect yourself.

Angel hummed while walking down her stairs, going straight for the fridge and getting herself a small water bottle and a Coke in case she got thirsty, and then a random magazine that was left on her counter, a Bluetooth speaker and a yoga mat.

She happily started getting settled in the middle of her garden, where there was no shade. Angel could hear some of her neighbours hanging out in their gardens too, low music, people chatting, children giggling and dogs barking and elderly people complaining about the noise. She sat on her yoga mat and started rubbing sun cream all over her skin, making sure to not miss a spot, and struggled to get her back but ended up giving up, “I’ll do it later when I turn around…” She grumbled.

After setting up her music and lowering the volume, she laid down on her back, sunglasses and bucket hat on. Angel took a deep breath, loving the heat of the sun and closed her eyes.

“I’ll do it later when I turn around…” She, in fact, did not turn around.

Angel ended up falling asleep with her mouth open, right under the sun, in the process of baking. However, earlier, the sky was not the only thing that witnessed her stupidity in real-time.

Her very sexy neighbours all decided to hang out outside, to enjoy the sun like normal people when they saw her asleep in the middle of her garden. John came out in shorts and sandals, wearing his very stylish bucket hat and sunglasses, a book in hand when he saw her. Of course, he saw her, they literally had the shittiest, lowest fence ever, and it practically gave no one much privacy. But it’s not like they're going to complain when they get to see her looking like that.

“Steaming Jesus…” Johnny said, lowering his sunglasses so he can get a better look.

“What sort of shitty cliché film are we in?” Gaz laughed in disbelief. Not only did they have a nice house (minus the shitty garden fence), but a very hot, very friendly, smart and funny neighbour.

“Are you complaining?” Soap asked the man.

“Me? Hell no, that’s one beautiful woman.” Gaz said with a nod.

“Stop staring, you creeps.” Ghost came up from behind them and grabbed both of their necks, lowering their heads. Both Soap and Gaz whined at their superior, turning around and sitting in their garden lounge chairs, doing their own thing.

John already had his nose buried in his book while Ghost closed his eyes and covered his face with a cap. Gaz was playing music through a Bluetooth speaker and was knitting at the same time, humming to the lyrics of whatever song was playing, and Soap was doodling in a sketchbook, bopping his head to Gaz’s music.

20 minutes passed peacefully until John closed his book and checked his watch. His change in demeanour was immediately noticed by his men, even Ghost lifted the cap and peeked at his captain with one eye. “It’s been 20 minutes and she hasn’t moved an inch, how long has she been sleeping there for?” He said with a frown.

“That woman is literally going to bake under the sun,” Gaz said, looking at Soap.

“She will if we dinnae wake ‘er up.” Soap agreed.

“Why do you even care?” Ghost asked, surprising Price.

“Because we’re not shite neighbours, Simon.” Soap said in that annoying voice he thinks drives Ghost up the wall, but Ghost secretly thinks it’s cute.

“Yeah, don’t be a dickhead, Simon,” Gaz said, batting his eyelashes at the soldier, hiding his annoying grin behind the scarf he was knitting.

“Enough, go wake her up, Gaz.” John said, and Gaz placed his unfinished scarf in his chair and walked up to the fence, and cleared his throat loudly.

Angel didn’t move an inch and he turned around, to look at the others.

“Call ‘er name!” Soap whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Ghost side-eyed Soap, who absolutely ignored him.

“Angel, wake up, please?” Gaz tried again, squinting his eyes to try to see if her chest was moving up and down. Call him paranoid but she wasn’t moving, and he couldn’t for the life of him see if she was breathing or not from his position.

Gaz immediately jumped over the fence and rushed to her side and placed two fingers on her pulse, at the side of her neck. Soap, Ghost and Price were all up now, standing next to the fence, and all sighed in relief when Gaz turned around and gave them a thumbs-up.

Gaz scanned her lax face and decided to lift her head with one hand and used the other to gently tap one of her cheeks, “Angel, wake up.”

Angel woke up with a gasp as if she was holding her breath the whole time, maybe she was, who knows, her body can do freaky stuff when it forgets it's wearing the skin of a human. When she opened her eyes, Angel was so confused, was she in heaven?? Because what the shit, this is a real angel right there.

“What time is it?” She groggily said, her hand going up by itself to cup Gaz’s cheek.

“Half past one. You were knocked out and we got worried you’d bake under the sun.” Gaz said with a chuckle, and reality finally hit her. Angel abruptly sat up and Gaz grabbed both of her shoulders, “Hey, slow down.”

“Water, Gaz.” Price reminded the man and Gaz immediately grabbed the now warm water bottle next to her, unscrewed the cap and poured a bit in his palm and patted her hot cheeks.

“Oh, that feels good.” Angel moaned, not realising how hot she truly was.

“That was dangerous, you know that right? Sleeping under the sun with no shade.” Gaz said, wiping his wet hand on his naked chest.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” Angel sheepishly said, glancing at the other three men looking at her.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, and thank you for waking me up, Gaz.” Angel said, placing a hand on his, which was on her yoga mat, next to her thigh. Gaz’s eyes widened, looking at her hand on his and looked back up again. She was smiling at him, and his heartbeat sped up. Gaz could feel his guys looking at him, at them, but he couldn’t look away from her eyes and lips. Especially her lips.

“You don’t, uh” he choked out then cleared his throat, “You don’t have to apologise…”

“Okay.” Angel whispered, those big beautiful eyes staring at him like he was the sun and the sky, and Gaz felt like he was going to fucking die.

“Who fancies a barbeque? I feel like grilling, today.” Price spoke, breaking the spell. Gaz retrieved his hand and stood up, stretching his arms behind his head, trying to hide his flustered state.

“Oh yeah!” Soap grinned.

“That sounds really nice, enjoy your barbeque, guys.” Angel said, collecting her phone and Bluetooth to get inside, she had enough sun for today. Maybe she’ll watch a show on her laptop, or read a book.

“Where are you going?” Price frowned, stopping her in her tracks, all of her stuff clutched in her arms.

“What?”

“You’re invited, Angel.” Price said.

“Am I?”

“Of course, lass! What type of neighbours would we be if we didnae invite our favourite neighbour?” Soap said with a huge grin.

“Soap, I’m the only neighbour you’ve spoken to since moving in.” Angel deadpanned and Soap shrugged with his arms crossed, the dog tags glinting over his hairy chest under the sun.

“I’ll go get the grill ready.” Ghost said, walking towards their shed.

“Hi, Ghost!” Angel quickly greeted him.

“Hi, Angel.” He replied, without looking back.

Gaz slowly walked up to the fence, “I’ll go prep the meat.” he mumbled and jumped over, glad to escape her hypnotising eyes and lips.

“Wait, I don’t know what to bring!” Angel’s smile fell when she realised she has never been invited to a barbeque before and has no idea what to bring, she has seen humans having barbeques but she doesn’t know what they would like her to bring.

“You don’t have to bring anything, honey.” Angel was now right in front of her fence, knees touching the scratchy wood and watching Price move the chairs around to make space for the grill.

“Uhm, Soap! Please come over and get stuff you guys don’t have.” Angel quickly said and grabbed for the man’s arm as if he’d run away. She really didn’t want to be rude and not bring anything to the barbeque, and she knows that Soap loves food and knows so much more about cooking than she does.

This is absolutely pathetic for someone with her powers, but she never claimed to be perfect, has she?

And how could Soap ever say no to that face?

“Of course, hun.” Soap grinned and jumped over the fence, taking the water bottle and unopened can of Coke away from her. “And these are going in the trash.” He said, walking inside her house and straight to the kitchen as if he always lived there.

.

.

.

“For how long are they supposed to boil?” Angel asked, frowning down at a pot with boiling water and whole potatoes.

“Leave the potatoes alone and come chop the chives.” Soap said, glancing up at the woman with amusement. Angel was still wearing her bikini and her cute green bucket hat, standing there in the kitchen with him.

Angel sighed and stood next to Johnny, grabbing the knife and starting to chop the chives. Soap watched the woman try to chop the chives and get frustrated that it was hard even though the chives were thin and small. Soap had to admit, she might be PhD smart and hot as fuck but she was actually useless with a knife.

Soap sighs, standing behind her and grabbing the knife away from her hand. “Watch, that’s how you do it.” He said and she nodded, watching him hold the chives with one hand and chop them with the other with ease. “See? Easy peasy, now try again.”

Angel grabbed the knife and tried again, and she was instantly better, a bit slow but better than her mediocre previous tries. “How long does potato salad take to make?” Angel looked over her shoulder and asked, looking at Soap, who was still standing behind her.

“Like half an hour? The only long parts are boiling the potatoes and chilling the salad.” Soap said, making her nod and turn back to chopping her chives.

“Do you have someone, lass?” Soap suddenly asked, making her look up from her chives and stare at the cupboard in front of her.

“Am I dating someone?” She repeated.

“Aye.”

Angel noticed the change in Soap’s usual friendly and teasing tone, and placed her knife down on the chopping board, and slowly turned around.

“No, why?” Angel raised a brow and Soap kept looking at her with an unreadable expression.

“Just got a lad wondering.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his glorious naked and tan chest.

“Just a lad wondering…” Angel hummed, touching his dog tags with one hand, “Are you dating someone?”

“No, why?” Soap slowly grinned and took a step forward.

“Just got a lass wondering.” Angel grinned back, pulling him forward by his dog tags.

A loud hiss startled the two of them and Angel panicked, “The potatoes!”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear

[dranewsome]

Unveiling Body Positivity: The Empowering Journey of Naked Yoga

Naked yoga, a practice that combines the ancient art of yoga with the liberating act of nudity, has gained popularity in recent years for its unique approach to wellness and self-acceptance. Advocates of naked yoga believe that practicing yoga without clothes promotes a deeper connection between mind, body, and spirit. By shedding societal constraints and embracing their natural state, participants often report feeling more comfortable and confident in their bodies.

This unconventional form of yoga fosters a sense of vulnerability and acceptance, encouraging practitioners to embrace imperfections and celebrate their bodies just as they are. Supporters argue that removing clothing eliminates barriers and judgment, allowing individuals to focus solely on their practice, promoting self-love and body positivity.

However, naked yoga isn't merely about physical exposure; it's a holistic experience that promotes mental and emotional well-being. Participants often find increased self-awareness, improved body image, and reduced stress levels. It's essential, though, to practice in a safe and respectful environment, ensuring everyone feels comfortable and secure throughout the session. Ultimately, naked yoga serves as a powerful reminder of the beauty of the human body and its incredible potential for healing and self-discovery.

[rpking99]

Gym Leaders

There are Twelve different Gym's in Luxure, however you only need to win Eight badges to qualify to face the Elite 4. The Gyms have no order and can be faced at any point in nay order, the Leader's shifting their teams depending on how many badges you currently possess

The Gym circit is just for fun so the Gym's all have a secondary, recreational, purpose. And defeating the Champion gives you a speical badge, a badge that lets you hang out with the Elite 4 whenever you desire. Basically a key to their secret club house

In Gym Battles, the Luxure Gym Leaders must be faced in Pleasure Battles (for more info, read here). This also applies to the Elite 4 and Champion, although the Elite 4 increase the strength and the Champion pushes it even further.

Sabrina (Psychic)

Sabrina's Gym also acts as a meditation dojo and yoga spar. To help clear the mind and body.

The dominant and powerful Gym Leader tends not to play 100% fair, using her psycic powers to project sensual images in her opponents mind to weaken them in the battle.

Whitney (Normal)

Whitney runs a farm as her gyms extra action. The farm helping to support all of Luxure, reducing the amount of food that is needed to be imported.

Whitney is the most fair when it comes to Pleasure Battles, however she does act bratty in hopes of distracting her foes and make them want to 'punish' her

Clair (Dragon)

The dominant Clair runs a museum, her gym dedicated to Dragon Pokemon and the history of many tribes focused around the mystical type of Pokemon

An added twist to the Pleasure Battles with Clair is the fact the buzzing never stops.

Flannery (Fire)

Flannery runs a hot spring with her gym. And the twist she runs, well the passioante and hot headed girl has herself and her challenger naked

Candice (Ice)

Candice runs a skii lodge at her Gym. And like Whitney, does not have a twist to her Pleasure Battles

Elesa (Electric)

Elesa being a model and a star, she has her gym at PokeStar's Studio. A more... adult branch. And the twist she uses is... you and her are being filmed while it happens. You get to keep the tape afterwards, lol

Skyla (Flying)

Handgliding is an event held at Skyla's gym, gliding across the vast oceans of the region. And for her Pleasure Battle twist, she has some Gym Attendents groping both herself and you during the battle.

Mallow (Grass)

Mallow runs an outsdie kitchen slash exotic garden, the kind girl being a bit kinky with her twist to the Pleasure Battles. Mallow and her challenger edge each other three times before the Battle starts

Olivia (Rock)

Olivia does rock climbing with the cliff face near her Gym, both artifical and real. Seeing no reason, she has no twists on her Pleasure Battles. Although herself and her challenger do fuck before the battle.

Bae (Fighting)

Bea, The Galar karate prodigy, is the Fighting type Gym Leader of Galar. Living in Stow-on-Side, she is a serious fighter. Trying not to show weakness she hides her emotions, emotions that some times leak out during the height of battle. She also loves sweets.

Her Gym in Luxure is an actual gym. Weights, treadmills, all that stuff. And you have to have a work out before you challenge her to a Pleasure Battle.

Nessa (Water)

Nessa is the raging wave, the Water Gym Leader of Galar. From Hulbury, she is a fashion model on the side. She is very calm, but still highly competitive.

Her Gym is a small Water Resort. And the twist she puts on Pleasure Battles? There is none.

Klara (Poison)

Klara's Gym works as a sex club. The bully bitch of a Poison Master enjoying the fun

And her trial during a Pleasure Battle has both contestents be under the effects of an Aphrodisiac during the battle.

Elite 4

When facing the Elite 4, there is no gimicks to the Pleasure Battles. The intensity is just increased between each level. And after you defeat them, well it is sexy time. It is a test on your stamina, endurance and will as well as your battle skills

Lorelai (Ice)

Karen (Dark)

Phoebe (Ghost)

Rika (Ground)

Champion

Against Cynthia, the devices used for Pleasure Battles might as well be called f-machines. The pleasure they give pushed to the ultimate limit. And at most, you have a half an hour break between the four and her.

Cynthia

Cynthia is the Champion of the Sinnoh Region. Somehow radiates MILF energy without being a mother. A serious badass Pokémon trainer

Total Muses: 17

[stiricidewrites]

The Damage You Do: ch 25, pt 16

I'll be away until Sunday, as I have to go get someone from the airport tomorrow, and it is a trek.

CW: fantasies of more violent CNC

Previously

~

So, yeah, wwx was pretty sure that if he accidentally kicked his dom, things would be okay. Better yet, if he kicked him in the middle of rough sex, things would probably be great, which was a weird thought. He was pretty sure lwj would like him fighting back, though, during less public r*pe scenes. There was something nice and freeing about the idea that lwj, bigger and stronger and just as trained as he was, could probably handle anything he threw at him—assuming there weren’t actual weapons involved, and even then…

wwx licked his lips as he pulled his hands back to his chest, pulling in a grounding breath—or his best attempt at one, anyways—and trying to shoo thoughts of attempting to beat his dom up out of his head.

“Focus,” he internally hissed at himself. “Violent sex thoughts later. Chill, cringy, yoga porn scene thoughts now.” Slowly, breath by breath, the images of he and lwj wrestling for control of the situation—of him actually making a real effort to escape his dom’s attacks—floated away and wwx was so totally chill again. Horny as a teenager, but chill about it… mostly.

He was still going to imagine kicking his asshole yoga instructor a bit longer.

lwj’s hands reappeared on him, once again dragging teasingly over his ass, except now his ass was bare and when lwj all but ordered him to go through the sequence again, wwx did so with the knowledge that his dom was behind him, getting an eyeful of his ass as he bent, and his cheeks pulled apart and—

wwx tried to not blush or moan and squeeze his glutes together—or worse, squeeze his hole—as he imagined what kind of view the other man must be getting of him. It was ridiculous—lwj had already seen him naked a few times, for fuck's sake! That didn’t stop mortified arousal from seeping through him, the only saving grace of the moment the fact that when lwj had sliced his shorts open—which, seriously!? These had been nice shorts, dammit!—he had only exposed his ass and not his cock as well. He didn’t think lwj would appreciate him dribbling precum on the yoga mat. The man could easily replace it, of course, but it probably would have resulted in more mortifying teasing that wwx certainly didn’t need.

Most likely, it would have resulted in the man calling him a naughty boy, or some shit like that. Fuck, just thinking about lwj’s cold, cruel voice whispering to him about how he was a bad boy who had made a mess of his exercise room was enough to make wwx almost come in his shorts.

When had he become so trigger-happy? At this rate, the moment lwj’s fingers were back inside him, he was going to come!

[fashionbooksmilano]

Klaas Rommelaere Johnny

design and editing: Jurgen Maelfeyt

Art Paper Edition, November 2023, 40 + 16 pages, 24x34cm, ISBN 9789464770841, edition of 500 copies

euro 35,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

In 2021, Klaas Rommelaere saw Adam Curtis' documentary Can't Get You Out of My Head: An Emotional History of the Modern World. Using found footage, Curtis examines the power structures that shape our world. He touches on themes such as individualism versus collectivism, conspiracy theories, American imperialism, the history of China and artificial intelligence.

The nihilism Rommelaere felt reminded him of Mike Leigh's award-winning 1993 film Naked, in which the intellectual but dominant and violent twenty-something Johnny wanders through gloomy post-Thatcherian London and shares his dark world view with anyone who will listen.

Rommelaere incorporates both “Can't Get You Out of My Head" and "Naked” in his new series Johnny, taking screen shots from both films and printing them on textile; one series on cotton and one on velour. In addition to the dark message of both films, Rommelaere also displays his personal images of doom. For example, he has a panicky fear of snakes - a symbol that recurs frequently in this series - and for a period he was afraid of buildings collapsing, a fear he retained from a trip to Tokyo, where earthquakes regularly occur.

Although he does not want to look away from the pain of the world, he instead places something in return: comfort and beauty. An image from a dance performance by Rosas, for example. Or nature in the form of the orchids in his studio. Yoga too. A focus on human anatomy, which stands for vitality. Rommelaere embroiders 'Chaos' on several of his new works, as well as 'react', 'reload', 'recharge'. And so the Johnny series becomes his highly personal attempt to create order out of chaos.

Exhibition at Madé van Krimpen + Booklaunch 04.11 — 16.12 Prinsengracht 615H Amsterdam thu-sat 12:00-18:00

03/02/24

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 28

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you don’t want to wait for new chapters, the complete story is on Patreon for only $4 with bonus stories! If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

“You aren’t eating.”

There was a very vivid memory Damián had from when he was young—maybe 12, definitely no older—where his mother dictated the conversation at the dinner table after a trip to see old friends. She spoke with disgust, with disbelief. She hadn’t seen her friends in years, and the ways they had changed had traumatized her.

When she spoke of her friend Kathie, she held out her hands a considerable width apart. Like a fisherman illustrating his imaginary catch.

“Her thighs were this big,” she said. She shook her head. “It was horrible. I don’t know how anyone can abuse their bodies like that.”

If Damián did the retrospection, he would probably consider that one moment to be the start of it all. His own fasting, his own obsession, his disapproval at himself—never directed towards others, though. No matter how bad Damián got, he never pushed his image issue on others. Years later, it was his biggest pride that he could hold that over his mother.

She had always been thin and had always bragged about how thin she was as if it was some grand moral accomplishment. That was how Damián remembered her. Thin. Chic. Always eating yogurt or beginning a new exercise regime. Pilates. Zoomba. Yoga.

The last time he saw her, when she was staring down at him with so much anger, he could only fixate on how her cheekbones protruded beautifully from her face.

When he was caught, naked in bed by her friend, how did he look? Did the friend notice the little puffiness he had gained from a shitty college diet? When she reported it to his mother, Damián hoped that she hadn’t reported that back. Not only was her son gay and a prostitute but was fat.

To that day, years after, he couldn’t remember a single word that came out of her mouth when she disowned him. Just that she looked so gorgeously thin.

Diego reached his hand out across the table and repeated himself. “Marcus, you’re not eating.”

Damián was trying to be better with food. Alex had started to creep into that space in his head, and he could start to remember good memories of pumpkin soup or noodles and feel good about it all. But the past few days, every time he looked at even the smallest morsel, he felt a sinking, guilt-filled rock in his stomach. He only thought about how he left Alex in the Uber on the way back from MoSex.

He smiled up at Diego, twirling his fork over his plate. With most clients, he could fool them. He could push his food around, and they wouldn’t even care. But Diego noticed, and Diego cared.

“I am!” Damián said. He had. He had eaten all of three bites, and he felt absolutely awful about each one. They had made him increasingly ill. “I’m sorry if I’m being a bad sport. I’m just not all that hungry at the moment.”

Diego eyed Damián suspiciously. He stood and walked behind Damián. He laid his hands on Damián’s arms, moving them up and down his biceps. Damián leaned back and let his head fall onto Diegos’ chest.

Diego began unbuttoning his shirt from behind, slowly, one by one. He spread his hands across Damián’s exposed chest and pulled his shirt off his shoulders. Finally. Damián thought he would be stuck at the table forever. What he really needed was Diego’s doting and domineering bedroom attitude. Office attitude. He needed someone to take control of him for an hour.

“Want to take this somewhere?” Damián asked.

“Not yet.”

Diego nudged him forward and Damián, confused, leaned forward until his head was hanging over the table. He was face-to-face with his carbonara. For a moment, he worried Diego was going to shove him into it to force him to eat.

Diego prodded his back. His fingers poked and rubbed where the rug burns had been weeks ago. It was a bit unsexy.

“You’ve healed nicely,” Diego said.

“It wasn’t that bad to begin with.”

Diego hummed. “I must have remembered it being worse. I’m glad I didn’t scar you.”

“I’m tough.”

Diego kissed his shoulder and then on his neck. Damián straightened up and tilted his head up so Diego could kiss more of him.

“I promise I won’t be so rough with you tonight,” Diego said. “Meet me in my study?”

It was a question Damián heard often. There was something so sexy about “study.” He loved it. Diego was great at this sort of pseudo-roleplay.

Diego pulled away, and Damián stood. But when he got to his feet, his vision dimmed and his stomach rolled, and he fell back into his chair. The black wave in front of his eyes lasted longer than it had in a while. He worried that this was it. He was going to faint in front of Diego.

When he could see again, Diego was on his knees in front of him.

His face was so handsome. His hair had been longer in the past. When Damián first met him, it was slicked over and made to look shiny with pomade. Now, hints of white were starting at the temples, and it was cut short.

“Put your head between your knees,” Diego said.

Damián did. He felt cold and shaky. Diego draped his shirt back over him and kept one hand firmly on his arm. It was either fortunate or unfortunate that one of Damián’s most frequent clients was a doctor.

Eventually, Damián felt well enough to sit back up. A headache lingered around his eyes, but he didn’t feel on the verge of death. Diego told him to go slow and looked at him with worried eyes.

“You know,” Diego joked, “if you don’t like my cooking, you could have told me. You didn’t have to faint on me.”

“I didn’t faint.”

“No, but it was close enough.” Diego sat back. He laid a hand on Damián’s knee. “We should call tonight off.”

“No! I can’t cancel on you twice in a row.”

“Damián.” The way Diego said it, his voice low and stern, would have been sexy any other time. And he was using Damián’s real name. That felt scandalous. He had rarely used it since Damián first told him. “I think if I let you continue with our appointments, I would be breaking the Hippocratic Oath.”

“Does the Hippocratic Oath say you can’t have a sex worker over when they’re just a tiny bit unwell?”

“Not in those exact words. But something about having someone perform strenuous activities when they’re unwell feels like it goes against the ‘do no harm’ part.”

Damián had a dozen things he wanted to say, his mood immediately soured. Diego wasn’t his doctor, it was Damián’s choice about whether or not he followed through with a client. He shoved his shirt back on and buttoned it up.

Diego patted his leg. “I think you should try eating a little more tonight.”

It wasn’t any of his business if Damián was eating or not.

“I’m going to leave if you treat me like I’m an invalid,” Damián said.

“Ooh. I haven’t heard that a hundred times from patients.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too. I can tell you’re hungry. You’ve never been so cranky.”

Damián stood, successfully this time. He slid past Diego and began walking towards the door. Diego was his client, not the other way around. He had no right to lecture Damián about how much he was eating or how cranky he was.

Diego caught up with him at the front door.

“Do you have someone who can stay with you tonight?” Diego asked. “Just in case you collapse and hit your head? I would feel terrible if I heard you died after letting you leave.”

Leo was out for the evening. Eve had taken him to an event on campus. Diego was so fucking smug and infuriating.

“No,” Damián said.

Diego easily slid between Damián and the door. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to go home like this alone. So you either get someone to stay with you or I admit you to the emergency room—which will be packed by this hour—and have them do whatever they want with you.”

Damián stared. He couldn’t call Diego’s bluff. And if he did end up in an emergency room, Diego would surely tell him about the recent display of bad eating habits, and that would start Damián down the very scary path of recovery.

“You’re a shit doctor,” Damián snapped. “You can’t threaten to admit someone.”

“I’m not threatening, I’m warning. I’m worried about you. You look like you’ve lost weight.”

God, Damián hated hearing that. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t want anyone to spend more energy than they needed to thinking about him. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“Just call a friend when you get home,” Diego said, voice now soft. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Again, Damián thought about Leo being gone for the rest of the evening. There was no one else really around. He once had friends he could probably call and be vulnerable with, but Christian had gotten them in the break up. For the first time in over a year, Damián ached for Christian. Not for him, exactly, but for his company.

Damián thought about Alex. They hadn’t spoken since the night before when Alex suddenly left the museum. If Alex’s feelings were hurt, it would feel selfish to call him to babysit. But if Damián made it seem like he just wanted to see him, Alex might avoid him.

He texted Alex from Diego’s doorstep.

Hey, I know you weren’t super in the mood to hang out last night. But I was with a client, and he says I almost “fainted,” and the prick is a doctor so he doesn’t want me home alone. If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you can chill with me until Leo gets back home? You don’t have to, of course! Don’t feel pressured.

Of course I’ll stay with you. I’m on my way.

Damián absolutely hated his life.

[mad2jokes]

Funny

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[tardigradetheking]

genuinely there is nothing that has helped me with my body images more then just being naked while doing yoga.

See how your body looks uncovered, bending reaching and being.