#overgrown mound

[hollow-knight-fights]

Hollow Knight Fight Round 1, Wave 5

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[el-conejo-negro]

Patiently waiting on Hollow Knight: Silksong like...

(I know it'll be well worth the wait)

"Larger Cousin" digital, 2023

[whatthefoucault]

Day 17 of Hollow Knight Art Month sees this Snail Shaman doing some cool snail magic. What an absolute friend! Thanks for teaching us that neat spell, buddy!

[tonythr]

I recently found out that there is at least one more room with floating platforms in the background. It's the room outside Overgrown Mound.

And honestly, I have no possible explanation for that one, so this just either further complicates my theory or proves that I really was just overanalyzing that.

BUT the Overgrown Mound IS a mysterious area, and there is a lot of stuff that we don't know about both Snail Shamans and White Lady, so there MIGHT be a lore explanation for that. Potentially.

Floating platforms in Hollow Knight are weird, lore-wise

Soooo I haven't seen anyone actually talk about this, but those things just keep *bugging* me.

These things.

Why did Team Cherry put these particular platforms in the background?

Ok, there are numerous floating platforms in this game, of course, because the player needs them to traverse big spacey rooms vertically. They're not even an issue lore-wise, because their existence can be explained by them being attached to the fourth wall, which is what the player looks at the Knight through. It's basically a game construct that we are not supposed to think about as a part of the suspension of disbelief.

BUT THOSE THINGS are not attached to any wall! They're just. Floating. There. In the air. Without any support. And THEIR existence can't be explained by the game wanting to provide the player some convenience. The Knight can't interact with them, we never see anyone else use them or even acknowledge them, so they MUST be something that TC put there for lore reasons, as a part of that beautiful thing that we call environmental storytelling... Right?

That or they just put them there without really thinking about the implications that this anomaly creates. But that's a boring and very unlikely explanation, so I'm just going to discuss what that might mean for the game's lore, assuming they're put there intentionally.

So, I have several thoughts on why those platforms might exist as a part of the in-game universe.

First theory. Hallownest is literally frozen in time

Ok, so this is probably the most obvious one. Throughout the game we see some evidence of the Kingdom being literally put on hold with the intention to keep it alive indefinitely.

This is pretty much what is implied in the tablet in the Pale King's workshop - that PK was trying to literally pause Time itself, so that the inevitable Dawn would never Break.

(Quite an interesting theme, actually - the idea of avoiding the inevitable not by trying to actually avoid letting it happen, but by delaying it by an infinite amount of time. It deserves its own post, really)

So, with Time itself being literally frozen, it's pretty safe to assume that this is exactly the reason as to why some parts of the Kingdom are literally stuck in one place, right? I mean, it's pretty much a trope to have floating rocks and buildings in a place that is stuck in some kind of time stasis. I'd say this is a pretty solid assumption, but when we actually look at some of the other parts of Hallownest we see that it's pretty lively for a place that is frozen in time. The rain is pouring, the stalactites are falling, all those machines in the Crystal Peak are still working...

Some of that stuff can actually be explained by either the Radiance's influence or the Knight's movement. The Infection is presented as the inevitable force of change that resurrects everything and moves it towards Light. The air thickens, the bugs arise from the dead, the Infection takes over the Crossroads, the Moss cultists get turned into mush, and so on. Meanwhile, other creatures possessing a Will are also capable of bringing change to this land. The Knight constantly breaks things, forces the ground to crumble beneath its feet, and overall just brings destruction to Hallownest, bringing the world closer to its natural end. It's no wonder that the stalactites start falling conveniently right as the Knight passes underneath them.

BUT there are still many things that can't be explained so easily. Like, if the Kingdom is supposed to be frozen in time, then why is the rain still pouring? Why is the Wyrm's ash still falling at the Kingdom's Edge? Why is the sand still falling from the ceiling? Why do larger things seem to be fixed in place, while smaller things are seemingly unaffected by the Kingdom's stasis?

That and the fact that at no point we see these floating platforms being acknowledged by the game's lore in any way other than those two places makes me think that this theory is probably incorrect, unlike the next one.

Second theory. Those two particular places are just that special.

The only two places where we actually see floating platforms being a part of the background (if I'm not missing any) are located near some of the most mysterious places in the whole game.

First, we have the ones that are located near the Colosseum of Fools. To be honest, even the interactable platforms there just seem useless, as some of them don't even protect us from the Bellflies. They all look like some kind of decoration (alongside with those strange thin pillars with circles on top of each) leading us along the road towards the corpse of a huge beast which the Colosseum is located inside. What even is this creature? Is it a higher being? Is it a Wyrm (don't mossbag me, he's wrong about those things being its claws because we see a third one in the foreground lying aside from the main structure, detached from the body)? Is the Lord Fool its reincarnation? Is it connected to the Ancient Civilization? How are there so many warriors there? Why does it still thrive after everything that happened to Hallownest? There are so many questions about that place left unanswered that I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the magic of the Colosseum actually affects time and/or space around it, making it possible for the floating platforms to exist.

Second (and this is the most important one), we have the platforms that are located inside and outside the Hive. As far as I know, this is the only place in the whole game that has this many floating platforms located in the background.

This basically confirms that this is absolutely NOT a coincidence and is a part of the intentional in-game lore. The whole place is floating!

The Hive seems to be in its own kind of stasis, probably due to its isolation. Vespa says that going against nature is a folly, so this anomaly is probably something... natural.

And you know where else floating things are a natural occurrence?

The Dream Realm.

So, the Hive and the Dream Realm are both places that are tied to the Light, which is a kind of force or energy that can alter reality and even create new realities, which are not necessarily bound by the usual laws of space and time. The Hive is not located in the Dream Realm, and it's safe to say that it's not some kind of in-between-the-worlds situation like with the Lifeblood Core, so the stuff that's going on there is less crazy than what we see in the Dream Realm, but it is also the only material place that is connected so heavily to the Light, so it is safe to assume that the anomaly that lets the platforms float is directly connected to that mysterious force.

The only thing that I can't understand is how the Light in those places connects to the Colosseum of Fools. It's not a well-lit area, and even inside the arena the only source of light is just regular fire. Could it be that this mysterious force is not defined by the Light itself, but by something more... incomprehensible?

I wonder what that force even is. The Radiance is definitely not the only source of it, and we know we're gonna see some really shiny stuff in Silksong. I personally hope for more platform lore.

[candor-creator]

hear me.

[keehomania]

mark + big tits!reader i feel like mark would go crazy over big tits 🤭🤭

mark is a boob guy he told me himself!

MARK LEE really did love you with his entire heart. he did everything a good boyfriend was supposed to do; he made you laugh, he treated you to brunch and dinner, he spoiled you whenever he got the chance, he made you his muse for his music, and he was never afraid to show his love openly. you were just as good to him; you laughed at all his terrible jokes, you cooked for him, made sure he felt safe enough to open up to you, and consoled him whenever he did open up. you had both steadied a bridge and crossed it without any problems.

almost, actually. see, mark had an issue of his own. unbeknownst to you, he had been battling some thoughts of his own that, for the first time in forever, he was too scared to share with you. it had to do with the way your tits were outlined and accentuated, no matter what you wore. the first time he took notice of it was when you had gone out to lunch with him and his friends. he was aware you were blessed with a bigger chest, but he really did his best to look anywhere else but there. it wasn’t until he caught jaehyun taking peeks, his gaze lingering longer than necessary on the top of your cleavage. you were oblivious, but not mark. ever since then, it was a chore to focus on anything else.

you didn’t bother dressing modestly around the house, why would you? you sported a pair of shorts and a loose, short tank top as you cooked and vacuumed. mark was sprawled out on the sofa, his eyes focused on the television, though he really didn't care for whatever shitty soap opera was currently on. it wasn’t until you came by the table to clean up, guiding the vacuum across the floor as you did so. mark couldn’t peel his eyes off you, his gaze glued to you as you bent over to reach every crack and crevice. his breath hitched in his throat as the straps of your top spilled down your shoulders, revealing a good half of your bare, huge tits. they moved with every persistent nudge of yours as you continued to work, bending down further to reach the corners. as you did so, your top went with you, spilling further down your shoulders until your nipples were peaking, the mounds of flesh now completely visible to mark.

he couldn’t ignore the way his dick hardened in his shorts, and he was completely sure you would notice and think of him as the world’s biggest creep, but he couldn’t control himself. all he wanted to do was turn the fucking vacuum off and pin you to the couch, make an even bigger mess all over your tits, than the one you were currently cleaning. you had straightened yourself and met his eyes with an oblivious smile. turning the vacuum off, you asked him sweetly, “what’s wrong, baby? everything okay?”

something inside him had overgrown the shame he had been nurturing, something dark that had to do with the ache in his cock and the sudden seriousness in his eyes. “come here,” he said, his tone low and steady. your smile faltered, thinking you had done something to piss him off, but you knew better than to question him when he seemed so serious. “what’s wrong?” you asked with a frown as you reached his spot on the sofa, towering over him as he straightened his back.

he didn’t say anything immediately, he just spread his legs out and leaned back. you didn’t catch his drift until your gaze followed his movements, stopping upin reaching the very evident tent in his shorts, resting against his thigh. you weren’t too sure what had done it for him, but you didn’t care. you had done something to make him horny and the raw sight of him so needy went past your eyes and straight to your core.

“come here,” he repeated, his voice just as low. he gestured towards his lap, patting his bare thighs for you to make yourself comfortable. with shaky legs, you obliged, planting your palms on his shoulders and letting him wrap his arms around your bare waist to adjust you some more. you felt it the second you sat down, the weight of his hard cock pressing into your shorts. no matter how clothed you were, you felt every bit of the hardness resting against your clit.

your fingers trembled around his shoulders, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep yourself fron reacting just yet. “you feel that?” he purred, his hungry eyes boring into yours. “you feel how hard you’re making me?” you could only nod quietly, trying hard to fight back against the warmth that soread through your panties, dampening them just enough for mark to notice, a smirk gracing his lips. you had never seen him so focused, so serious. the sheer weight of his gaze mixed with the way he traced circles on your hips was enough to break you.

“can you do something for me?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. you nodded in response. of course, you thought, anything for him. “take your top off for me, yeah?”

the request caught you completely off guard. there was nothing strange about it, but you had expected something more demanding. to suck his dick, get him off, or even get straight to fucking, but mark wasn’t like that. you knew better, so you obliged, pulling up the hem of your tank top and sliding it over your arms as he watched you, his gaze content and sinful. you tossed the top aside, leaning back as you allowed him to take you in with his eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted. you felt embarrassed, your elbows coming up to cover yourself, but mark was faster than you.

his hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest. “don't even think about it,” he murmured, the tone of his voice enough for your arms to drop. you studied the way his eyes lit up at the sight of your bare tits, your nipples hardening under the weight of his gaze.

“i really tried to control myself, i really did,” he admitted softly. as he did so, he pulled you in closer, a gasp passing your lips as he pushed your hair to one side, giving him complete access to your neck. you arched into the feeling of his lips grazing your skin, teeth sinking into the flesh only for his tongue to caress the same spot seconds later. your tits, plump and heavy, grazed his forearms you did so. “but i can’t anymore, i’m really sorry.” you gasped as his lips travelled south, his tongue dancing over your collarbone, tinged with sweat and perfume.

“you should’ve just—fuck, told me,” you rasped out through a moan as he continued. you were so unaware of his hidden infatuation and, in fact, displeased that he hadn’t brought it up sooner. his hands attached themselves to your tits, a soft moan of relief passing his lips as he kneaded the flesh of your tits. “told you what?” he taunted as he brought his lips down around one of your nipples. “that i can’t get enough of your boobs, is that it?”

you were too caught up in the feeling of it to respond, your only reply a soft, strangled moan as your fingers tugged at his hair, bringing him further into the valley of your tits before pushing them together around his nose. he moaned, taking in the sweet scent as he probed at the thick flesh, tugging and squeezing the mounds around his face as his tongue explored the surface. “so fucking big,” he rasped as he lifted his head ever so slightly, enough for you to see the drool that glistened on his chin, before coming back down with a shake of his head. “they’re so fucking big.”

spit coated your boobs as he took one into his mouth, even though he knew he couldn't fit it all in, his other hand groping your other boob as tears filled your eyes. it had to have been some sick combination of pleasure and embarrassment, pure heat engulfing your cunt through your shorts as he sucked on your tit. he looked up at you, his eyes rimmed with hunger as he practically ate away at your boob. “get me off with them, yeah? that okay?” the request was enough to make you tremble, barely able to nod as the thought of him, so desperate and needy, fucking your tits raw clouded your mind.

you watched as he pulled his shorts down, his hard cock springing free from his boxers. it was already glistening with precum, and he didn’t even bother to stroke it before he watched you lay flat on the couch as he pushed the base of his dick against the soft mounds of your tits. “yeah, like that, come on, baby,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to rock his hips back and forth, your boobs jiggling with every thrust. you could feel the warmth of his cock, the wetness of his spit and precum mixing together, creating a sticky mess on your chest. it drove you insane, creating an even stickier mess between your thighs. it was all about the wild look on his face as he watched the way your boobs took his entire length in, the way his free hand toyed with your left tit, pulling at the nipple and squishing it against the skin of his cock as he rutted his hips slowly. the tip of his dick hit your chin and you couldn’t help but open your mouth, letting your tongue wrap around his head and take it in between your teeth as his shaft twitched between your boobs.

his groans grew louder as he picked up the pace, his hips slapping against your chest with every thrust. your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you felt the pressure build in your own core, his dick sliding along the underside of your chin as your tongue swirled around the tip. “fuck, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum all over your tits,” he warned you, his voice tight with need. you nodded, eager for it, feeling your own orgasm building as you watched his face scrunch up in ecstasy. your hands found their way to his hips, urging him faster, pushing him closer to the edge. you could feel the pulse of his cock, the way it grew stiffer and stiffer against your skin.

with a guttural moan, he came, spurts of hot cum painting your chest and neck as his tip left your mouth and twitched against your boobs. he thrusted forward once more just to feel the warm flesh, still spurting, and you watched with wide eyes as ropes of his seed shot out, landing on your chest and stomach. you looked up at him, panting, your chest heaving with every breath as your own climax hit you like a wave, your legs squeezing together as your muscles tightened and released in a symphony of pleasure.

mark’s eyes never left yours, the sight of his cum on your skin driving him wild. he leaned in, licking the creamy liquid off your neck before grabbing your hand and guiding it to his hardening member. “don’t get tired on me, baby. who said we were done?” he whispered, his voice husky with satisfaction.

✧.*

a/n: thank you to whoever requested this!! if you don’t like how it turned out lmk and i’ll redo it babe

[azsazz]

Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

_________________________________________

“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere. 

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it. 

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you. 

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened. 

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach. 

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.” 

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.” 

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room. 

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind. 

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that. 

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth. 

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words. 

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?” 

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?” 

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight. 

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.” 

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve eats, but only because Robin puts food in front of him. Only because she reminds him it's for the pup.

Like he needs reminding. Steve often rests his hand protectively over his rounded tummy. It's reflexive, to protect the only part of Eddie he has left. He feels like he hasn't slept in months, even though he knows he sleeps often, in broken bits and pieces.

He hasn't spoken for a long time, he knows that. Everyone watches him, and everyone used to tell him the same thing, 'they're just dreams Steve, Eddie is gone.'

Steve knows though, they aren't dreams. Eddie is alive, and he's trapped in the Upside Down because Steve didn't try hard enough, didn't push hard enough, didn't say the right things to get the others to believe him.

It upset Dustin the most at first, but Dustin has also been the most adamant because he saw Eddie die, can't even entertain the idea that Eddie might still be alive, because that means he left Eddie behind. That's a lot of guilt to ask a kid to carry.

Steve knows they're talking about him again, like them whispering in the kitchen makes it any better. Steve's starving himself. Steve isn't sleeping. Steve isn't showering. Steve's mate sick even if Eddie never mated him. It's the pup. It's the trauma. It's the nightmares.

They aren't nightmares though, not when Eddie holds him close, laid on a grassy meadow under a sunny blue sky.

El is here, kneeling in front of Steve, 'do you really think Eddie is alive?'

Steve clears his throats, feels full of cobwebs and sand, 'I know he is.'

Steve's said it a thousand different ways. A million. He's cried it and screamed it and shouted it and whispered it and said it as normal and level headed as he could make it sound, 'I am absolutely certain that Eddie is alive,' no one ever believes him.

She nods, 'we will check-'

'El.' It's Hopper, in the doorway, he said 'El' the same way he would say 'No'. 'We talked about this-'

'No, you talked about this. I am tired of this, for Steve, I will check. We will check, just this once.'

And Steve feels too broken to let himself hope, but he heaves himself up off the couch anyway.

El opened a gate in the pool. There's not been water in the pool for quite some time now, and it just seemed apt. A place where there is already a weakness in the world. Perfect for El.

In the end, just to stop the fighting, everyone has gone back to the Upside Down.

Steve squints at the sunny blue sky, not at all surprised to see it. Everyone else is making suitably shocked noises. The grass is green, the trees lush. From the trees, a demodog watches them. It looks different, like it fits here, healthy and well fed now, it shakes and stretches and then lopes off further into the woods.

Everything is overgrown, like the Upside Down is reclaiming everything that One created here.

Nearby, laundry flaps on a washing line, metal band shirts and torn jeans, 'Eddie,' Steve breathes for the first time in over six months, and heads into the house.

There's a bowl of odd looking fruit on the kitchen counter. In the lounge, books. So many books, all stacked and arranged into strange little towers like they are giants in a city, and the books are skyscrapers.

Upstairs, Eddie has clearly nested in Steve's room; there are guitar bits and tools on the desk, two guitars in parts.

The bed is mounded with soft things, Steve scents a pillow, it smells like Eddie...and not.

'Where the fuck is he,' Hopper grumbles.

Steve wants to snap. Wants to scream at them all. They fucking believe him now don't they? They could have had Eddie home months ago if-

Dustin has books from the living room, in the front of each is stamped 'Hawkins Public Library'. So that's where they go.

Steve doesn't know what to do when he spots Eddie. He's crouched on a table, bare toes gripping the edge. He's pale, even more so than before, skin a pale enough alabaster that Steve can see the shadow of blue veins underneath. He's flipping through a book, back and forth, back and forth, before finally stopping and hopping down from the table, 'Eddie?'

Eddie doesn't answer, eyes trained on Steve. His hair has grown, even longer, thick dark curls that Steve wants to bury his hands in.

There's a ticking noise, a low, growling rumble as Eddie stalks closer. Things happen very very quickly, Hopper raises his shotgun, El screams 'no,' Eddie's face peels apart like the petals of a flower filled with teeth as he roars and charges at them.

Hoppers gun is jerked up by an unseen hand, his shot causing plaster to rain down from the ceiling, and then Eddie is floating in the air, roaring as his face blends back to normal and then peels apart again, furious.

El's nose is bleeding, she wipes it away.

Steve moves closer. Eddie looks strange; taller. Leaner. Just, more, somehow.

Steve reaches for him, and Eddie desperately tries to get to him in return, clawing at the air, 'put him down, El.'

'Do not do that-' Hopper starts, but doesn't finish, because Eddie lands neatly on his feet, catlike in his grace, where El drops him.

He lunges for Steve, and Steve let's himself be pulled close and gathered up, Eddie clicking and chittering quietly in Steve's ear, scenting his neck, a strange sucking sensation on his skin as Eddie's face peels apart into one big mouth.

Steve relaxes. He has Eddie back.

[worldhistoryfacts]

American archaeologists, in cooperation with the Mexican government, reconstructed Chichen Itza according to the standards of the 1920s, which were not as painstaking as today's standards. Perhaps the biggest excavation job was the Temple of the Warrior, which was an overgrown mound when the archaeologists began. Here it is mid-excavation in 1925:

Over the next few years, masons worked to rebuild the temple as the archaeologists thought it should look:

By 1928, it looked like this:

Two sides of the famous "El Castillo" were similarly rebuilt.

The other half of it was left mostly unrestored:

Some observers think that Chichen Itza is a sham, a pseudo-historical confection constructed more to wow the tourists than to honor history (this website sums up the “it’s a fake!” argument pretty well).

But, like every site, Chichen Itza probably doesn’t have a “pure” or “authentic” state. It changed repeatedly over the years when it was one of the most important cities in Mesoamerica. It’s still changing today. The reconstruction in the 1920s certainly didn’t follow modern standards of archaeological precision. But now the changes of the 1920s are just another layer of history, laid on top of centuries more.

{WHF} {Ko-Fi} {Medium}

[delulu-is-the-solulu-843]

Wake up call

Abby Anderson x fem reader

Summary: Abby decides a better way to wake you up on the first day of a new semester.

Warning: smut, cunnilingus, cursing, fingering

-

Abby woke up first, she was always the first to wake up. She laid on her back while you were snuggled into her side with your hand gripping the front of her shirt in your sleep. She looked down at you and frowned, usually you looked so peaceful when you slept. But now even in your sleep your brow was furrowed and your lips had a slight down turn. She hated that even in your sleep you were stressed, your spring semester was starting today and you were always anxious when knew classes started.

Abby hated the idea of you being stressed all day, so she got an idea. Why not help you wake up stress free, help you expel some of that anxious energy.

She slowly got up and pulled the covers down to the foot of the bed. She gently turned you over so you were laying on your back.

She pulled your sleep shorts down and was pleased to see that you had foregone underwear. She tosses the sleep shorts to the floor and spreads your legs open. She lays on her stomach and puts your legs over her shoulder.

She kisses your mound before she runs her tongue up your slit.

She uses her thumbs to spread your pussy and she licks from your hole to your clit.

You felt good like really good. You felt like you were on cloud nine, you’ve had this dream before you never remember the details but everything is overgrown and destroyed, but what you do remember is the way this rugged dream Abby fucks you. Like she is doing right now. This dream never felt so really before.

You got wet quick, Abby couldn’t help but moan at the taste. She reveled in your sleepy little moans and whimpers. Every so often she’d look up to see in your were still sleeping.

She brought her fingers to your cunt and slowly pushed two in. She groaned around your clit at how your warm wet walls were practically sucking her fingers in.

“Abby” you breathe out

She looks up to see if you were still asleep, and when she saw you were she set a slow pace to her fingers as she licked and sucked at your clit.

The dream gradually started to fade around you. You slowly open your eyes trying to figure out what woke you up when you feel it. You gasp out when you feel Abby hit your sweet spot with her fingers.

You look down and see Abby between your legs, looking up at you with a big grin.

“Mornin beautiful” she rasps out and she feels your walls flutter around her fingers at the sound of her morning voice.

Her grin turns into a smirk very quickly

“Figured I’d wake you up today, that alright?” She stilled all her movements and you couldn’t help the way your hips lifted trying to get some friction.

“Yes very much ok please keep going” you tell her quickly

Her fingers start fucking in and out of you again and her tongue found its place on your clit again.

You lay back with a moan. You didn’t realize just how close you were getting, your hand made its way down your body and into her hair. You ran your fingers through it. You could feel the knot tightening in the pit of your stomach.

Abby could feel how close you were getting by how tightly your cunt gripped her fingers.

She sucked on your clit while she ran her tongue over it.

You feel the knot break. Your back arches and you grip the sheets. You cum crying her name out. She helps you ride out your orgasm.

She takes her fingers out and licks up all your juices.

You lay on the bed sated, you try and catch your breath.

Abby gets on the bed next to you and you tuck herself in her side. You lay your head on her chest.

She kisses your head.

“Now how’s that for a wake up call”

“Mmh you should wake me up like that everyday.”

You lean up to kiss her and moan at the taste of yourself on her lips.

“Feeling better?” She asks and you know instantly what she’s talking about

“A bit yeah thank you, I’m still nervous but not as much as I was.”

She kisses your forehead

“You’ll do great baby, you know you can always ask me for help with anything” she tells you

“Because you know I graduated the highest of my class” you repeat with her having had heard that just about a million and one times now

You both chuckle and you lean up to kiss her

“I guess there are some perks to dating a hot super smart future doctor”

“Just wait till I finish med school and become a hot super smart doctor doctor, those are when the real perks kick in.”

You both lay in bed sharing sweet nothings and what both your plans are for the day. When your alarm goes off all those nerves come flooding back, but with Abby right by your side you know there’s nothing you can’t do.

[hollow-knight-fights]

Hollow Knight Everything Else Fight: Round 1

[crybaby-bkg]

I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

[diazsdimples]

Buddie "wish I could carry you in my pocket"

"Wish I could carry you around in my pocket," Buck sighs as he gazes lovingly at Eddie sitting on the kitchen table. He's just a little too short for his legs to touch the ground, so he's got his ankles hooked together as he swings his legs back and forth. That, plus the oversized hoodie he's wearing have the effect of making him look like an overgrown toddler and Buck thinks he is simply adorable.

The minute the words leave his lips, Buck has an idea. A year or so ago, Buck had been messing around with one of Maddie's old spellbooks when he'd come across a Shrinking Spell. Thinking it would be useful if he ever needed to pull someone out of a mound of rubble or remove a crush, Buck had learned the spell, accidentally shrinking Maddie's laptop before figured out the reversing spell and had put it to right.

"Hmm?" Eddie says, lifting his eyes ever so slightly from the cookbook he's studying. "What was that, baby?"

Buck rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers a little. "Oh nothing, don't mind me." He clicks his fingers and looks pleased as a small shower of blue sparks rain onto the hardwood floors. There's a very faint smell of sea salt, but hopefully not enough for Eddie to notice. "Hold still."

"Wha-?"

Eddie barely has a moment to register Buck's words before Buck does a series of complicated wiggles with his fingers, mutters "Parvus" under his breath, and Eddie is suddenly shrouded in a cloud of royal blue energy. The room is suddenly filled with the scent of the ocean, as if Buck has suddenly stepped out onto Santa Monica beach.

When the cloud clears Eddie is nowhere to be seen, and Buck's heart is instantly in his throat.

"Eddie?" he calls out, walking towards the table where his boyfriend had been perched moments earlier. "Eddie are you still here?"

I've fucking disappeared my boyfriend, Buck thinks in a moment's panic. He hadn't read anything in the fine print about performing the spell on performing it on human subjects, and he's also not sure how to control the size of the thing he's transforming. There is a very real possibility that he's shrunk Eddie to the size of a dust mite and will never be able to resize him again.

Why the fuck can't he use his brain before acting??

Just before Buck plummets into a proper panic attack, there's a small movement on the table, just behind the cookbook resting on the edge.

"Buck, what the fuck have you done to me?"

The voice is high pitched and quiet but unmistakably Eddie's, and it takes Buck a second to locate it. But there, dusting himself off and looking decidedly unimpressed, is the smallest Eddie Buck has ever seen in his life. He's about the size of Buck's forefinger and leans against the pages of the cookbook as he glares up at his boyfriend.

"Oh my god, you are so tiny!" Buck grins as he takes in Eddie in all his miniscule glory. "I can't believe that worked!"

Buck reaches out and picks Eddie up, his fingers pinching at the back of Eddie's hoodie, and he drops his boyfriend into the palm of his hand. Eddie wobbles unsteadily before gingerly lowering himself down so he's sitting on the edge of Buck's palm with his legs dangling over the edge, no dissimilar to how he was on the table. He crosses his arms across his chest and glares up at Buck. If he wasn't all of 3 inches tall, it would almost be intimidating

"Put me back," he demands, the authoritativeness of his tone lost entirely by the fact that he sounds like he's swallowed a tank of helium. "Put me back or so help me God-"

"Or what?" Buck giggles, "You'll crawl up my nose?"

"I'll squeeze inside your dickhole and cause permanent damage with my teeth and fists," Eddie counters with a huff.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, babe."

"Buck please, we've got a shift in 3 hours. Make me big again," Eddie pleads, and Buck's completely incapable of defying his boyfriend at the best of times, especially when he's perched perfectly in the palm of Buck's hands, looking so tiny and adorable and pleading silently with his big brown eyes.

Buck sighs and holds his palm adjacent to the table so Eddie can walk across it and take up position next to the cookbook.

"Can I at least try fitting you in my pocket?" he asks, giving Eddie his puppy eyes, but it seems Shrunk Eddie is immune to Buck's charms. He shakes his head vehemently, snapping his fingers so a ball of deep green energy appears in the palm of his hands. The mellow, woodsy scent of pine trees cuts through the saltiness of Buck's magic as Eddie juggles the energy ball between his hands.

"Try it, I dare you."

Knowing when he's beaten, Buck relents with a sigh. Buck may be the one that practices magic the most but Eddie comes from a long line of powerful sorcerers, and Buck has no trouble admitting that Eddie is the more skilled magician of the two of them. If Eddie wanted to, he could turn Buck into a cockroach in a matter of seconds.

"Magnus" he mutters, channelling a fraction of his energy towards Eddie, and there's another cloud of rich blue energy and Eddie reappears.

He shakes out his arms and hops off the table. "You have no idea how weird that was," he grimaces. "You looked like a giant!"

"Don't I always?" Buck teases, referencing his slight height advantage against Eddie which was a slight sore point in their relationship.

Eddie takes two steps forward so they're nose to nose, and is about to open his mouth to scold Buck before a look of surprise passes over his face.

"Huh!" he says, stepping back so he's able to look at Buck properly. A grin begins to spread over his face as he looks Buck up and down. "I think that spell made me taller!"

Buck balks. "Absolutely not, that's not possible," he says, shaking his head. "I'm the tall one!"

Eddie steps back into Buck's space and yep, he's definitely grown an inch or two. They're almost completely at eye level, with Eddie a fraction taller, if anything. Buck gulps. Maybe he shouldn't have played around with magic.

"No, baby, you're definitely shorter than me no," he grins, and he tilts Buck's chin up (up!!!) to kiss him. It's soft and sweet, their lips moving in tandem. Eddie's smiling into the kiss and Buck can feel the smugness radiating off him.

"I'll just have to shrink you again," he points out as they break apart, but Eddie merely grins and kisses Buck on the forehead.

"I'd like to see you try."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

[thesassypadawan]

Tag 2 (David x FemReader)

Summary:  Tag.  A simple fun game of back and forth, except when it comes to your ‘jumping’ loving boyfriend.  Who's bent the rules; turning it into a one-way match of ‘whenever, wherever’…even if you’re having a spooky date night.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Public smex, fun from behind, ‘tag’, pointy hay bales, overgrown goblins, and…David's fat, long dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡 (Hope you also enjoy Tag 1!)

-  A phantom tweak of your nipples here…an invisible smack, pinch to each plump cheek there…even the occasional ghostly squeeze to your pert mound…

-  That’s how your journey through the winding, seemingly endless pathways of the haunted corn maze has been progressing.  The very one your ‘jump’ happy, horny boyfriend so eagerly and surprisingly suggested to do for a spookishly delightful date night.  Oh, how much of a foolish mortal you truly were…

-  Wandering cautiously down one of the more darkened, deserted trails; your ears strain, eyes sweep the shadows.  On guard, overanalyzing every creak of the stalks or frightful decoration you pass.  The whole time watching, waiting for the familiar…the inevitable…

-  Burst of light…warm chest presses to your chilled form…strong arms encircle your waist…and a pair of lips ghost the shell of your ear.  “Boo to you.”

-  “Vid,” you squeak.  Trying and failing miserably at hiding your surprise.  Undoubtedly giving him the satisfaction of scaring you…a little.  “So freaking cheesy.”

-  “Yeah, but ya know ya love it,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck.  Big hand squeezing your hip, wandering lower.  Fingers playing with, tugging on the hem of your rather skippy skirt.  “Bout as much as I do seein’ ya in this, with them damn stomp-stomp boots of yours.  And…”

-  You can practically feel his grin growing bigger against your skin; dick hardening, poking at your plush bottom.  And you can’t help but mimic his enthusiasm; wiggling just enough to make him twitch, wicked smile on your face.  “All right…  What else you, overgrown gremlin?”

-  “And…”  Placing, trailing kisses; nipping, leaving a blood red mark.  He winds around, captures your wrists; gripping them tightly, pinning them easily behind your back.  “…tag.”

-  Pushing you towards the nearby hay bales, David practically flings you down onto them.  Spreading your legs wide, hiking up that slutty skirt…exposing your thong-clad ass to the crisp night air.

-  “Really?  The black lace ones?”  He growls, hooking his thumb underneath the thin piece of fabric…  “With that damn bat bow?”  …pulling it taunt, letting it…  “You’re sure askin’ for it.”  …snap.

-  Teeth sink into your bottom lip, forcing back a squeal.  As another couple walks unknowingly by…as your squishy globes jiggle and bounce from the recoil.  Walls fluttering, droplets of slick trickling down your full thigh.

-  “Thou-thought they looked c-cute,” you whimper once the cost is clear.  Wiggling, trying to get yourself more comfortable.  Hoodie riding up, dried grass scrapping and scratching at your soft stomach.

-  “They are, but they look cuter like this.”  Yanking them to the side roughly; almost breaking the delicate, drenched string.  He plunges two fingers into your greedy hole; curling, pumping…teasing, hitting that small bundle of nerves.  “Don’t ya think?”

-  Despite your best efforts, a cry flies from your mouth.  “Y-yes…yes!!”  And your face heats, burns bright from embarrassment.  While you strain to hear any fast-approaching footsteps or voices nearby.    

-  Only to be met with the chirp of crickets…gentle tinkling of metal…rustle of denim.  The low whine of disappointment bubbling from your throat when he removes his digits.  The loud gasp of pleasure being punched from your lungs when he replaces them with, slams his fat cock into you.

-  One hand grasps at your hip, pulling you harshly back to meet his strong thrusts.  “What’s the matter, angel?”  Your tender flesh rubbing across the course, sharp stems; small cuts forming, appearing…stinging. “Cat got your tongue?”

-  The other grabs hold of your wrists again, using them to haul you up just enough to pound into you faster and deeper.  Bullying and bruising your poor cervix with every bounce.  “Come on, let them hear ya.” 

-  Sound of skin slapping wetly, lewdly echoing throughout the darkened sky.  Along with his heavy grunts, your muffled pants…the thuds of sneakers on dirt, faint laughter.  “Make them think there’s a fuckin’ banshee over here.”

-  Driving hard one last time, burying himself to the hilt.  Your back arches, whole body tenses.  Clamping, gummy walls flexing and clenching around him.  Moans and wails flying from your lips as you crash completely, gushing all over.  “Vid…Da-DAVID!!”

-  While he growls, paints your insides ghost white.  “That’s it let them know who bumped ya in the night.”

-  Thuds draw closer, laughter louder…

-  Bringing you in closer, pressing you to his chest.  He bucks weakly for a few more moments, coming down from his own high.  “Sorry to cut this short, but…”  Peppering your neck in warm kisses, hot breath tickling it.  “Gotta jump.  See ya at the exit, my bad little ghoul…”

-  Smacking your ass firmly, disappearing in another flash of light.  David leaves you standing there.  Scrambling to rearrange yourself…to come up with the lame lie for the blissfully unaware couple that finds you.  Trying to play off the fact that the backside of your skirt wasn’t stained with his ectoplasm…or running down your leg, dribbling onto your ‘stomp-stomp’ boots.  “It was nothing, just got scared by some overgrown gremlin.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @t03soup, @haydensbbg, @humongouscatfest, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @sythethecarrot, @xhunnybeeex, @skyguys-princess

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Overgrown

looking at my gut just hang out of a 4X in the mirror. Tried on a 6X today that fit comfortably. My whole body is slung with sacks of fat. Heavy, drooping folds and totally blown out, swelled rolls of dough have completely encased me in fat.

Fuck when did I get so fat? When did I eat enough food to become 5, or even 6 times larger? I keep looking at my overhang. It sags so low. It’s so deep and just stretches down so gratuitously. I really have grown myself a big, fat, hanging gut. The kind of stomach only someone who recklessly gorges on food has. I’m fat enough that I’m the size people are afraid of when they eat a second slice of cake, or opt for a candy bar more than once a month. It’s taken many, many candy bars and cakes and thousands of calories to become this overfed. It’s taken many, many hours to consume the amount of food needed to be this overweight. I’m a monument to gluttony and overindulgence.

My whole upper half is overladen with fat. A thick, saggy back roll has ballooned out where my shoulder blades were. My shoulders are wide, blobby slabs of blubber with extremely thick forearms and chubby hands. My whole front…stacked with plumped rolls, giant tits that strain shirts, and the aforementioned hefty sack of lard I have for a gut. Gravity has had such an affect on it too. My whole torso just hangs off my. Pounds and pounds of solid blubber just spill and ooze and bulge and jiggle right off my wide frame.

It all tests my clothes so precariously. Shirt buttons strain and the threads stretch. The seams creak and the fabric becomes taught any time I sit or really bend at all. So many of my shirts just…don’t work anymore. I’m eating myself out of my wardrobe and what used to be a glaring warning I should slow down has now made me speed up. I want to blow buttons off a shirt because I’ve outgrown it. I want to ruin a favorite top because my gigantic gut just hangs out the bottom. I want to be so fucking fat.

Every day I lug it all to the kitchen. I make enough food for 5 or 6 people. I excitedly carry it to my desk. I set all my food before me and I just start drooling. I sit down, spread my legs so my heavy belly can rest between them, and open my mouth as wide as I can as I hurriedly suck down one of the days feedings. Finally, when I’m done greedily eating enough for much more than one person, I rest. I lean back in my chair. I let out a burp as I lift and rub my bloated belly. Finally…filled. I moan involuntarily, my mound of blubber is so sensitive after I’ve stuffed it full. I sit there a few hours, glued to my chair while I digest. I might lazily wander into the kitchen for a bit more food to press down my throat, but the thoughts never end: when will I eat again? Will it be enough to get full? Will it be enough to make me feel groggy and slow down? Will it be enough to make my gut hang a little lower, stretch a little wider, and feel a little heavier?

I hope so. I can’t bear the thought of going hungry.

[ozarkthedog]

summary: while Joel drives, you take care of a desperate need. he doesn’t take kindly to the distraction.

warnings: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader. smut. joel’s hands. fem masturbation. fingering & pussy spanking galore. dirty talk. squirting. no beta.

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: look, i wrote this solely because i want this man to bruise my pussy with his massive hands. 

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☾

The scenery is always the same. Unkempt trees, winding roots, and utter devastation. It was tiring looking out the car window passing by the same chaos every day. Joel wasn’t any help as he mostly kept to himself and focused on the task at hand, driving out west to look for Tommy.

Your only saving grace was being able to occasionally gaze at the older man. Living in the QZ for almost two decades left him ravaged. Hard lines permanently etch his forehead as gray has overgrown most of his hair.

Joel slows the truck as a fallen tree comes into view. He steers around the massive sapling praying it wasn’t some sort of trap as the limbs scratch against the side of the truck.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding until the truck picks up speed and drives back on course down the freeway. Joel’s burly hands rest atop the wheel tempting you as his thumb smooths along a seem stitched in the worn leather.

Your thighs press together as a wave of arousal crashes into the deepest part of you. It’d been too long since you last felt his cock, that familiar stretch and burn that no matter how warmed up you got it was still a struggle to take him.

It’d been over a week and your nerves were starting to fray. There was really no time for genuine affection when you’re tracking across the country during an outbreak. Aside from a quick fuck here and there, you were constantly in survival mode.

You bite your lip as the last time you fucked flicks across your mind.  

It was pure desperation as Joel took you from behind in the backseat of the pick up truck. His grip on the back of your neck kept you compliant as he fucked you full of his cock. Making sure he got every inch wet, he ground his pelvis into your fleshy behind and pressed until he felt your cervix kiss the head of his cock. “Why the whines, Sweetheart? We both know how much you love the pain.”

You bit your cheek to keep from moaning at the memory and fix the crotch of your jeans to lessen the pressure on your throbbing mound. As the heat swelters between your legs, you cast a glance at the older man who’s focused on the road. A little rub wouldn’t hurt anyone now, would it?

You slowly unzip your jeans and slide your hand into your panties. Arousal soaks your folds and clit making it easy to glide your fingers languidly across your pulsing flesh. The moment you graze your clit, the frantic energy calms. You drop your head back into the seat and sigh heavily through your nose.

“What the hell you doin’?” 

Joel’s gruff voice stops you in your tracks. You whip open your eyes to find him staring incredulously at you. Your mouth bobs like a fish struggling for air as you search for the right words. 

You realize your hand is still nestled in your folds when his eyes dip to your lap. “What? Pussy got your tongue?” He bites with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry but what else was I supposed to do? You haven’t fucked me since Kansas and a girl’s got needs.” You argue, pulling your hand from your jeans and wiping it on your leg. You inwardly cringe at how rude that came out.

Joel huffs and flicks his stare back to the road. His fingers grip the wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. He mumbles under his breath before jerking the wheel and pulling to the side of the deserted road. 

You look around for any signs of danger, hoping it wasn’t raiders when Joel climbs out of the truck and storms around almost ripping your door off its hinges.

“Grab the headrest.” Joel growls, nodding towards the worn seat behind you. “You don’t want to mess with me right now, Sweetheart. Best do every fuckin’ thing I say.” 

Nervous excitement races up your spine. He only spoke to you like that when you hit a nerve. You silently nod and do as he asks. He waits patiently while you secure your hold on the velvety cushion before meeting his eyes. 

“If you let go…” He trails off letting the heavy threat hang as he looks wickedly under his lashes at you, “well, let's just say you’ll wished you hadn’t.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he unbuttons your jeans and tears them off in haste almost breaking the zipper. He tsks when he notices a wet spot soaking through your panties. “Lookit’ the mess you made.”

Your belly flips with warm embarrassment as he slides the thin material down your legs and pockets the drenched fabric. “Let’s see if you can earn these back.” 

He swipes a callous thumb up the shiny, wet slice of you tearing a gasp from your lips. Your cunt clenches from the attention it was so desperately calling for.

“This what you needed, girl?” He seethes, roughly circling his thumb over your sensitive clit. “Answer me.”

A raspy “Yes” tumbles from your lips as he traces his fingers up and down your quivering folds before prodding your molten center. Joel wedges himself between your legs with a smirk loving how needy you were being for him.

“Lookit this greedy little thing,” He mocks, before slowly pressing two ungodly thick fingers into your heat. Your cunt burns from the stretch but clamps down on the unyielding digits greedily. “Sucking my fingers in like it’s the first time.” 

Your legs lock around his jacket covered waist as he drags his digits along your slick walls, wishing he was filling you with his cock instead. “This pretty pussy is absolutely weeping.” 

The older man steadily pumps his fingers and presses into the deepest part of you, twisting his hand expertly. His fingers graze every hidden spot you never could find. Your face burns as the wet squelching of your cunt intensifies and drips down the seam of your cheeks pooling into a sticky puddle. 

“You’re soaking the seat like a filthy whore.” He ridicules before hooking those devastating fingers against the spongy muscle behind your clit. Your body writhes in shock and you grasp the headrest even tighter as the pleasure mounts unexpectedly. 

Lighting shoots up your spine as you’re forced to orgasm around his fingers and you come with a muffled shout as he slams his free hand over your open mouth.

You whine pitifully as he continues to pump you full of his fingers. You weakly shove your knees into his torso, trying to get him to stop as your overstimulated core throbs. “Joel, please.” You plead up at him with doe eyes after he removes his hand from your mouth.

“You got a lot of fucking nerve thinking that’s it.” He grits. “I know how much this cunt can take and I’m gonna make sure it’s well and used by the time I’m through.”

He slips his drenched fingers from your core and lands a harsh spank on your cunt. White hot explosions flash behind your eyes. Your body writhes from the steady blows he doles out, landing one after the other on your pulsing core.

“Where’er you runnin’ off to, huh?” He mocks harshly swatting your shiny, puffy folds. “You were just beggin’ for my attention not that long ago.” The slap stings even more with how wet you’ve become. You shift your hips trying to evade the blows but Joel growls and wraps a strong arm under your lower back keeping you locked in place.

“You’re gonna come just like this. I didn’t stop the car for nothing.” He orders and lands a severe spank on your abused clit. The car's roof spins when your eyes roll back and your orgasm is forced from your body. A silent scream tears from your lips as a wave of arousal gushes into the older man’s hand.

“Thatta girl.” Joel hisses as your arousal drips down his wrist when he quickly tugs his cock out from his jeans. He jerks his massive length twice with his slick coated hand before thrusting roughly into your fluttering core with a satisfied grunt. “Gonna fuck every last drop outta this greedy pussy.”

Joel fucks you with hard, possessive thrusts shoving you deeper into the seat with every drive. All you can do is take what he gives you. His eyes are primal, his teeth bared like a predator with a fresh kill.

His hips slam into the backs of your thighs with intent. The powerful drives shake the truck and make your cunt quiver as he spears you open and forms your walls around his cock. He grasps your jaw with a sticky hand and gives it a shake making sure your attention is all on him.

He hisses when your glossy eyes meet his and your cunt swirls. “You gonna soak me again, sweet girl?” His hips stutter when your core clenches around him and tempts him closer to the edge. “I can feel it.” 

You shake your head, desperate to have some control despite how fucked you were, literally.

Joel’s chest rumbles deep with a dark chuckle. “It’s funny you think you have a say in the matter.” 

He cants his hips, sliding all but the thick head of him from your quivering core before landing harsh, successive swats to your swollen clit. The tiny bud bounces from the force and shoots hot sparks up your spine. Joel thrusts roughly into your weeping core just as you’re about to tumble off the edge and drives his hips fast, pushing you into your orgasm. 

Your cunt blossoms in desire and squirts your release all over his pelvis. “Fuck, yes. There you go. That’s my girl.” He fucks your spilled cream back into your warmth with a ragged grunt. 

The bones in his jaw clench as the suffocating bliss takes root in the base of his spine. He growls as he pulls his soaked length from your convulsing heat and jerks his cock with a quick fist emptying his cum onto your trembling belly. Warm, white stripes burn your flesh as your arms finally unlock and fall to your sides with a thunk.

A warm hand cradles your jaw and you smile into the palm before Joel traps your lips in a devastating kiss. “We’ve got to get moving.” He says before wiping your belly clean and buckling you back in.

He shuffles around the truck with a spring in his step and jumps into the driver's seat. He turns the volume on the dash and smiles to himself as Hank Williams’ voice fills the cabin before pulling back onto the deserted road. 

You sink into the old velvet with a satisfied sigh as you watch the overgrown surroundings pass in an uncaring blur.

It took you an hour later to remember he still had your panties in his pocket.

who else wants Joel to bruise their pussy???? 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️