bench feels

just some great things in animal crossing

-the obvious one: running in a giant dream flower patch that isnt yours and absolutely destroying all the flowers while gigglng

-the little sound and animation when you complete initiatives

-also: that sound he CAT machine makes when it has meow coupons for you

-when you help out a villager and they get so happy that they walk around singing

-the music when it rains or snows

-shrunk’s dance (AKA the Shrunk Funk Shuffle)

-when you make an expression and a villager does it with you

-whenever it rains and everyone has umbrellas catered to their personalities

-the frogs not having umbrellas because they like water

-the sound and animation when you plant something

-when trains randomly roll by

-walking into a conversation between villagers

-playing hide n seek

-twirling umbrellas

-villagers giving you nicknames

-villagers giving you random items

-blowing dandelions away

-the balloons and ice cream you get from the HHA

-when villagers get clothing and immediately change

-doing a backflip when you change clothes, complete with sparkles

-the little victory dance your avatar does when you pay off your loan or complete a holiday game

-the pine trees getting lights during winter

-”rumors” being spread about you (some rumors include: green thumb, fashionista, and town hero)

-villagers that have moved out visiting

-finding villagers that live in your town at a dream address and the villagers recognize you

-luna counting sheep to send you to a dream address

-playing grocery store with kappn’s daughter

-town themes and flags

-running past the butterflies at the museum and having them fly all around you

-when you play an instrument and randomized notes play every time you hit it

-villagers clapping for you after you play an instrument

-getting pictures from villagers

-making a wish when shooting stars pass

-the games you play with campers

-the custom outfits other players make and share

-sitting on rocks

-sitting on benches with villagers

~feel free to add more!!~

please don’t ever laugh at someone at the gym who’s lifting very little amounts of weight, or running only a little bit on the treadmill. don’t make fun of someone for putting a machine at the lowest weight or only bench pressing the bar (it’s already 45 lbs on its own). don’t laugh at the people who are just starting out or who physically can’t do too much weights or running or pull ups or squats or whatever. Everyone has to start somewhere

Russian Bucky

Request: Can I request? Bucky pretending not to know English n only speaking Romanian/Russian and he overhears you talking about him so he’s like wtf but then he hears you saying some kinky shit and so he kind of plays along and when it’s all goin down he’s still talking in R/R and suddenly he whispers something in your ear in English and you’re like oh shit - @oh-my-gerd


You’ve gotten used to hearing Bucky’s language now. It surprised you at first when he greeted you in a Russian language, one which you couldn’t speak or understand. You thought he spoke English, but you were definitely wrong. You tried to understand what he would say, sometimes you’d even call Natasha and ask her what Bucky was saying, to which she would translate happily.

The fact that Bucky couldn’t speak English had you thinking that he definitely couldn’t understand it. So, you talked about Bucky, with Natasha mostly, about how nice and kind he was. Other times, for example: after a hard training session when Bucky’s all sweaty and shirtless, you’d blabber on and on to Nat about how badly you wanted him to just take control and have his way with you.

You were currently having one of those many moments.

You breathed out as you entered the kitchen for some water. Nat was leaning against the kitchen island, munching on some apple slices. You had just worked out for the morning and Bucky had walked in during your last ten minutes. He was shirtless, like always, and this time he wore sweats instead of his usual basketball shorts. When you say you could see everything, you meant everything. There was no hiding what he had.

Nat greeted you with a smile, but it turned into a smirk when she saw your lust blown eyes and red tinted cheeks. “What is it now, Y/N?” Nat asked in her usual sultry tone. You sighed again and shook your head as you remembered Bucky’s jumping jacks and what the movement caused. “Oh my god. Bucky’s body will be the death of me.” You said with a small giggle. Nat blushed and coughed into her hand.

You smirked as you got a bottle of water and started chugging it. “Y/N, that’s so weird.” Nat said, her voice clearly giving her away. You stopped drinking and looked at Nat, scoffing. “Oh come on, you know you’d say yes if he asked you to bend over the weight bench and let him fuck you until your abdomen bruised from how hard he was pounding you into it!” You said rather loudly. Nat gasped and threw an apple slice at you, her cheeks flaming. “Y/N, you do NOT think about that do you!?” Nat asked, her face full of entertainment.

It was your turn to be red in the face now. “I mean.” You said, drawing out the words, your eyebrows raised. Nat gasped again. “God, Y/N! You’re so lucky he can’t speak English.” Nat said with a giggle. You sighed. “Yeah, I doubt he’d know what I meant if I asked him to bang me.” You said, not noticing the shadowed figure near the door now.

Nat nodded and finished her snack. She crossed her arms and bit her lip. “I could always ask.” Nat said, a smirk on her face. You threw your empty water bottle at her and she quickly blocked it. “Hell no! He would not do that. It’s just a fantasy anyways.” You said a little quieter now.

Nat suddenly cleared her throat and your eyes followed hers. You saw Bucky walking in, his body coated with sweat and his sweatpants pulled up to his knees. Your face burned red and even though you knew he couldn’t speak or understand English, you felt embarrassed thinking he might’ve heard what you just said.

Bucky gave you and Nat a small smile and a nod, moving past you to get a water bottle. You looked at Nat and she had her hand over her mouth, holding in her laughs. The silence in the room was awkward and your heart was pounding in your chest.

You shot Nat a glare and stopped when Bucky turned to you. “Могу ли я поговорить с вами?” Bucky asked, capping his water bottle. Your eyebrows raised and you tried not to look down at his shirtless body. You looked at Nat for translation help. She smirked. “He wants to talk to you.” You gulped and turned back to Bucky.

A small “Uh huh” fell from your lips and a simple nod was all it took and Bucky had gripped your hand and he was pulling you out of the room. Your eyebrows creased together and your nervousness grew as you looked back at Nat’s shocked face. You had no idea where Bucky was taking you or what he wanted.

“Bucky?” You asked softly. He turned to you and stopped at the open doors to the gym. “Хотите тренироваться со мной?” Bucky asked, leading you into the gym. You didn’t understand what he said and Nat wasn’t here to help you out. You looked around the gym and sighed. “Friday, can you translate what Bucky asked?” You quietly questioned.

You watched Bucky shut the wooden gym doors and turn the lock. Your heart started racing again. “English translation: Do you want to train with me?” Friday said, answering your question. You sighed out and looked at Bucky. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the weight bench.

Your stomach dropped and he pointed for you to lie down under the weight bar with 20lb weights on the ends of it. You looked up at Bucky from where you were lying down. You knew something was up because Bucky worked out just before and you were there doing the same. So you weren’t sure why he wanted to continue training with you. He could’ve chosen Steve or even Sam.

Going along with it, you gently wrapped your hands around the bar. Bucky was standing above you and you had a clear view of his crotch if you tilted your head back just a tad. You could feel yourself getting wet already. Bucky’s hands guiding yours brought you out of your dirty thoughts. He helped you lift the bar and you breathed in and out steadily, lifting the bar up and down.

You and Bucky trained for about ten minutes more and the whole time, he had his hands on your body in some way or another. He helped you do your squats and lunges, he held your feet down when you did your crunches, and now he was helping you with push ups. You didn’t need the help, but his hands were a blessing to you, so you allowed it.

Bucky’s flesh hand was resting on your lower back as you did your push ups and you felt it move down slowly, giving your ass a light squeeze. You gasped and dropped your body down onto the mat, turning your head to look at Bucky. He had a smirk on his face and you sat up on your hands and knees. Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body and he tugged his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You stood to your feet and sighed out, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Is that why you wanted to train with me? To stare at my ass and try to feel me up?” You asked, knowing he couldn’t understand you. You were unsure of what Bucky’s intentions were. It’s not like he could just tell you, he can’t speak English. Bucky smirked again, though his features showed confusion. Bucky then looked into your eyes. “Я хотел бы ебать.” Bucky said, his voice low.

A frustrating sigh left your lips. You couldn’t understand him once again, so you asked Friday. “Friday, translate that, please.” You said, watching Bucky step closer to you. Your heart started to beat even faster as your cheeks burned red. “English translation: I’d like to fuck.” Friday said, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

Bucky closed the distance between you two and he captured your lips in a kiss. Bucky’s lips were moving roughly against yours, his hands pulling you closer to his shirtless body. You moaned into the kiss and felt Bucky bend down to pick you up. Bucky pulled away, gasping for air as his blue eyes stared into yours.

He looked like he was asking for approval so you nodded. Bucky smirked and carried you over to the weight bench where you both undressed. Thinking he thought it was better than the mat and not that he understood what you said about him earlier, you smirked as Bucky set you down on the weight bench. He was about to hover above you, but you smirked and got down on your knees, bending over the bench like you’ve fantasized about many times.

Bucky chuckled and came up behind you, rubbing your soaked pussy with his flesh hand. You gasped and moaned softly, moving your hips back against his hand. Bucky moved behind you and you could feel the tip of his cock rubbing against the opening of your pussy now.

You whimpered as you moved your hips back and forth, getting impatient. “Bucky, please.” You moaned out. Bucky’s hands now rested on your hips as he slid into you, immediately starting to pound into your pussy. Your body jolted against the bench and you squealed, feeling just how big Bucky’s cock was. You never imagined it’d feel this good.

Bucky was grunting and his hips were slapping against yours hard and fast. You gasped as he hit your g-spot and Bucky chuckled deeply. “That feel good, Princess?” Bucky asked, making your face turn red and your moans come to an embarrassing halt. “Wh-what?” You asked, your heart racing in your chest.

Did Bucky just speak English or were you hearing things? Bucky bent over your back, his sweaty chest molding onto the skin of your back. You could feel Bucky’s cock twitch inside of you and you gasped slightly. Bucky’s mouth was beside your ear now and his breath was warm against your skin. “I asked if that felt good.” Bucky said in clear English, not a fault in his phrasing.

Your mouth fell open and Bucky chuckled again, his thrusts starting up again. Your face was red as can be and you could feel the heat rising around your neck. Bucky was able to speak English this whole time, meaning he understood every word you’ve ever said to him up to this very moment.

A moan fell from your lips and you decided to scold Bucky after he fucked you senseless. “It does.” You said softly, answering his question. Bucky groaned and continued to fuck you. Your abdomen was rubbing against the weight bench but it felt amazing. Bucky slammed into you and you moaned loudly, feeling your pussy clench as your orgasm got closer.

Bucky’s hands reached up to your ponytail and he tugged on it, causing your head to jerk back. “Oh, fuck yes!” You moaned and felt Bucky slap your ass with his metal hand. A growl escaped Bucky’s lips as your pussy clenched around his thick cock for the second time. “I’m gonna cum, Bucky.” You moaned out, feeling Bucky’s hand reach under you to rub your clit fast.

You started to cum around Bucky, broken sobs and moans falling from your lips as you felt Bucky’s cum shooting out inside of you in hot spurts. “You’re so good, yes. Oh my god. Fuck!” Bucky yelled, pounding into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the foul language coming from the man behind you.

A few minutes passed and you and Bucky lazily lied down on the mat, looking up at the ceiling. “How long?” You quietly asked, afraid to look over at Bucky. He chuckled. “Since forever.” You turned your head to look at Bucky, your face full of shock. “You idiot!”, you slapped Bucky’s arm, “Why didn’t you say something?” You asked shockingly.

You put your clothes back on and Bucky hurriedly did the same. You crossed your arms and stared at Bucky. His face turned red and he sighed. “I didn’t really feel like talking to everyone at first. Then I started hearing you talk about me and-I don’t know.” Bucky said, looking at you apologetically.

Bucky stepped closer to you and grabbed your hand in his. “That was fun, though.” He said softly with a smirk. Your face started heating up again and you rolled your eyes, though your lips formed a smile. “Ugh, you’re mental, Barnes.” You said with a giggle. Bucky smirked and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Am I still mental if I ask for a round 2 later tonight?”

Note: this was so much fun to write. I hope you like it and of course, you can request anytime you’d like, sweetie! feedback is welcome! .c

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Just Friends

Pairing: Brett x Reader

Requested: Yes by a fab anon, thank you so much for the ideaaa

A/N: gif is not mine, sent in by the fab and amazing @joeynihil who understands my needs for a little Brett smut <3

NSFW, 18+

masterlist / coming soon

I listened to this song (fall out boy if you’re interested) mainly.

You stepped off the Devenford bus, arms linked with your 6’2 best friend who had a scowl rested on his face as he looked out over the crowd of students surrounding the bus. “Lighten up, Brett, it’s only a friendly.” You smiled, bumping your hip against his. Brett eased up at the sound of you laughter as you skipped through the crowd away from him in search of friends that you new in Beacon Hills, he stared at you weaving your way through people like second nature.

Keep reading

You Want To Love Me

A fourth part to “Everyone Needs Some Love” series. You guys really enjoyed it and I love writing this side of Dark. 
I Hope you enjoy!

Part 1- Everyone needs some love
Part 2- I need your love
Part 3- I Want your Love

Originally posted by lum1natrix

You awoke to a warm body next to you. An arm lazily draped over your waist and guilt wracking your chest. 
Dark stirred when you moved. Carefully trying to ease yourself out of his arms, but failing to keep him asleep. 
“You don’t need to leave,” He murmured, holding you tightly against him. “There’s no rush to get up.” 
The warmth of the bed was inviting. And the blissful sensation of Dark’s touch was enough to question your motivation to leave. 
But you did. You wriggled out of Dark’s hand and left the room without a word. 
You heard him follow. Silently shadowing you to the kitchen where you got yourself a glass of water. Gulping it down, giving you an excuse not to talk. But the water disappeared too soon, and you placed the cup on the bench beside you. 
“I said one night,” You told Dark. Holding your voice firm. “And you agreed. The night is over, Dark. Give Mark back.” 
Dark however, locked his hands behind his back. His neck rolling, as if releasing a tension in his shoulders. 
“You did say one night. But nothing about the following day.” He replied smoothly. 
You whirled on him, but he stepped forward, trapping you against the kitchen bench with his body. Your words died in your throat as his eyes were obscured in black.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Dark asked, impatiently. “I won’t hurt you. I don’t have any intentions of hurting you. I only want to feel your touch.” 
“You had all night,” You snapped back. “You had all night and two days ago of me holding you. How much more do you need?” 
“So much more,” He growled softly. “I want it every second, of every minute. Whatever your possess, I need it.” 
“I’m not some kind of drug, Dark!” You retorted angrily. “I’m a person.  A human. Get that through your thick skull!” 

Dark’s hand latched around your throat. You gasped in surprise, but it was replaced by frustration as Dark leaned closer. He held you carefully, like a glass vase. The fingers around your neck were firm but loose.  
“Do not test me, (Y/N).” Dark said through clenched teeth. “You may have some power over me, but I still might not be strong enough to keep myself in check.” 
You glared at him. Any fear you felt towards his anger seemed to vanish weeks ago. 
“And what would you do, huh?” You challenged. “You said yourself you wouldn’t hurt me. And doing so would destroy the sliver of a chance you had with me. So go on, Dark. Make my morning! Do something.” 
Dark growled. His eyes completely black and a tremor seemed to pulse through him. Then, before you could cry out, Dark lunged forward, his lips clashing against yours in a fury of anger. 
The kiss was rough, almost painful as Dark crushed your mouth with his. 
His tongue pushed between your lips, forcing them open and tasting every crevasse behind them. 
You fought him. Digging your nails into his shoulders, clinging to his shirt and battling his hunger with your anger. 
He groaned when your teeth bit down on his tongue. The sound he made caused you to falter. 
What was happening? 
Dark’s hand on your neck disappeared. Finding it’s way down to your waist to hold you flush against him. He gripped you tighter when you tried to wriggle free. He trapped you against him, hands sliding around your waist to possessively hold your back.
He released your lips, allowing you to take a breathless gasp as he moved his mouth to your neck. You moaned, tilting your head to the side as his teeth grazed your flesh. Dark worked on the spot just below your jawline. Lips sucking, teeth biting and his tongue smoothing over the broken skin. 

“Dark..” You hissed. Your voice seemed to spur him on. His hands dipped down to your ass, hooking under you and lifting on up onto the bench’s surface. 
He moved between your legs. Wrapping them around his waist without breaking contact with your neck. 
Your hands tangled in his hair. Tugging the soft strands as your body pressed against him. 
His fingers slid under your shirt, kneading the soft skin of your torso as they slithered up to your breasts. 
Dark paused there. The fingertips barely playing with the fabric of your bra. 
Your mind fought with your body. Logic battled with lust. 
You moved one hand from his hair to move his fingers over the cup of your breast. His growl of appreciation made your lower half pool with warmth.
Dark made quick work of removing your shirt, then he practically tore the hooks of your bra apart. Letting it drop and disappear. 
You moaned as his hands took both breasts. His palms molding them, fingers squeezing them with as much care as Dark could. 
“You’re so warm,” Dark said against your skin. “So soft. My dear, I could do this till we waste away.” 
He took your lips in his again. This time the kiss was slow. Dark took his time to taste you, savor the sensation of your mouth and tongue.
You were sweet. Like a refreshing treat that renewed his mind and energized his body.
And your scent. Intoxicating couldn’t do it justice. 
Yes. Yes. This was more than he had ever imagined. You, this beauty, allowing him to freely roam your body. To feel every wondrous dip and curve of your form. To run his fingers over your smooth skin. 
Paradise may be beyond his comprehension, but you were near to a perfect definition of it. 


The sound of shattering glass snapped your attention elsewhere. Dark snarled, the noise shocking him into reality. 
You both gazed down at the broken cup on the floor. One of you must have knocked it off the bench. 
Suddenly feeling exposed, you removed Dark’s hands from your body. Covering yourself up with your arms and looking away from his stare. 
“(Y/N),” Dark tried but you shook your head. 
“Don’t speak, Dark.” You said harshly. “I…This didn’t happen.” 
You eased off the bench, careful not to step on the glass and snatched your shirt off the floor. 
But Dark wasn’t ready to give up. He stepped towards you, allowing you to put on the shirt before spinning you around to face him. 
You squirmed in his grasp. His hands gripping your arms like iron claws. 
“Let go.” You ordered but Dark shook his head. 
“You do want me,” He said calmly. Eyes pleading for you to understand. “I can see it. You want me to touch you. (Y/N), just let me do this. Let me be yours and I’ll treat you like royalty.” 
You shook your head, “Dark, you don’t understand.” 
“Then make me understand!” He bellowed. “Show me why you won’t allow this to happen!” 
“Because I love Mark!” You yelled back. Tears had filled your eyes as you watched the entity digest your words. “That’s why, Dark. Because I can’t stand to be touched by his body. To have his face look at me with such lust, only to look in his eyes and see you!” 
Dark released you. Stepping away from you like you had stabbed him. 
His expression suggested you had ripped his chest open and directly cut his heart. 
“So,” He said. Voice as smooth and blank as paper. “That’s what’s holding you back. Him.”
Your arms wrapped around you protectively. “I-I’m sorry, Dark.” 
The entity looked away. His eyes returned to their blackened color, his fists clenched at his sides as he gazed at his reflection in the window. 
“So am I.” Was the last words you heard from him as he disappeared.

Piano Tiles (M) - Pt. 2

Originally posted by kths

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, ft. Yoongi

Genre: Angst, Smut, and a sprinkle of fluff, pianist!y/n, AU

Word Count: 9.5k *high pitched screaming*

Summary: “Love is so short, but forgetting is so long.”

A/N: So. This is the second time I’ve rewritten it, have worked on this version for three months and am fINALLY happy with the way it turned out. It somehow turned grossly mushy at the end, but maybe that’s just the product of my pent up bitterness from the hell that was Valentine ’s Day. ¯\_()_/¯ (partially edited, excuse the errors)

part 1 | part 2

At the start, the phrase “It will pass with time” was something you had clung desperately to like a life raft. Words not uncommon to the hurt and heartbroken, you hoped such a miracle would apply to you too, despite the fact that you were the one who inflicted the pain. Did God forgive this form of self-harm? For three long years, you had foolishly believed in such a concept. As you grew more preoccupied, thoughts of him faded with each passing day, only to interrupt your transition to forgetting during the most mundane of instances; getting stuck in traffic, or waiting on a laundry load. The worst times were at night when you began to ponder the many what ifs; what if you hadn’t visited him that day, what if Jimin hadn’t shown up that morning, what if you had stayed? Just exactly how far would that have gone? When you were plagued with such thoughts, you simply plugged in your earbuds and played on repeat whatever piece you were working on until you could drift into a fitful sleep. With time, it had gotten easier to forget your time with Jeon Jungkook or to pretend to do so; to lie to yourself and others.

And then the night of your professional debut, the spell was broken.

You haven’t seen him in three long years and it’s unfair how good he looks.

Keep reading

Andreil teacher au

Neil tugs at his sleeve, a nervous habit of his that has followed him around since he was a child. He really doesn’t want to be doing this–but Kevin flew out to just to ask for this favor. He couldn’t disappoint him. He didn’t want to disappoint him, not after what Kevin had done for him.

He sits on a bench outside of Wymack’s office to wait for Kevin because there was no way he was going in there by himself. The students start to trickle into the school and it’s as if they know he’s the  substitute. He supposed news traveled fast and unfamiliar faces were a threat to be determined with these kids.

He sighs and leans back against the bench. He looks up at ceiling to avoid the curious looks of the students passing by.

“Why math?”

Neil nearly jumps and ends up gripping the edge of the bench, feeling someone settle next to him. He faces a blond man with hazel eyes, who seems bored just being there.

“Who the fuck are you?” The words escape from Neil’s mouth before he can even stop them.

The man stares at Neil with something akin to amusement but doesn’t bother replying.

Neil would have almost confused him for a student because the man was small–even smaller than himself, which really was saying something.

No, he was probably a teacher. The man’s hazel eyes flicker over him as if he were a puzzle of some kind.

“You’re still so stupid.”

And then, it hits Neil and his blood runs cold. His eyes widen with recognition. But it can’t be–but it is–shit, he should have gone over the staff list after going through student profiles.

“Andrew,” Neil whispers. A smirk forms on the blond’s  face in confirmation. He hadn’t seen him since–since–

Wymack’s door swings open and this time Neil actually jumps. Andrew snorts in amusement and Neil shoots him a glare.

“Neil! What are you doing sitting out here? We’ve been waiting for you,” Kevin says, stepping out from beneath the doorway of the office.

Neil stands, “I didn’t know you were inside.”

“You could have knocked,” Kevin rolls his eyes and then turns his gaze towards Andrew, “You could have told him.”

Keep reading


A one-shot requested by @is-there-any-name-left

Sana was standing next to her friends and to the boy squad and looking off the distance. They were talking about the party of last week where everyone was and about who hooked up with whom.When they started talking about how great Yousef and Noora looked, Sana just looked at the sky and tried to ignore them. Isak noticed unknown sad face of her’s and walked closer to her. “Hey.” he greeted her and smiled. She raised her eyebrow and a fake smile was on her face. He licked lips and gestured his head to the bench which was standing a few feet away from them. “Can we talk a little?” he asked and she nodded and followed him to the bench. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Sana asked and raised her eyebrow. “You.” He said and smiled at her warmly. “About me?” she asked confused. “Well and about that guy.” he tilted his head and looked at her with a mischievous smirk. “Which guy?” she coughed and acted like she didn’t know who he was talking about. “What was his name…Yousef. Was that also that guy from earlier? Whom you admired on your laptop?” 

“Admired?! Excuse me?! I didn’t admire him.” She said with a serious tone but jokingly. “You totally gave him heart eyes!” He said laughing and she turned away from him so he couldn’t see that she was smiling. “Shut up!” she said and hit him softly into his arm and made him laugh. 

After that there was a long silence between them until Isak turned around to her and smiled. “You like him, don’t you?” Sana looked at him for a second. She never really admitted her crush on Yousef or even told someone. She felt insecure about it. She could just say no and ignore his question but she knew that whatever she says, Isak would find it out, so she kept quiet and played with her hands and Sana’s quietness pretty much answered Isak’s question. Isak nodded his head and looked off the distance. 

“Sana… I know that we both don’t really talk about stuff like this but… If you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, you know that I’m here right? And I will always be here. I mean, we’re science buddies, come on!” He said and tried to make her smile again and succeeded. She laughed and looked at him with a wide smile. “And friends.” Isak nodded quickly and agreed her. “And friends obviously!” he said and Sana stretched out her arms so he could hug her. “Thank you.” she said and patted his back. 

Suddenly she saw her brother and his friends walking fast towards her and Isak. “Sana?” she saw Elias and let go Isak while rolling her eyes. “What do you want Elias? The keys again?” “Who is that?” he asked while raising his eyebrows and gesturing to Isak. Sana studied her brother’s face for a minute and looked up to Yousef who looked her in a way she hadn’t seen before and she couldn’t describe it. “That’s Isak. What do you need now?!” she asked and stood up slowly. “So this is Isak, the Isak you’re spending almost the whole time with?!” Sana saw how Elias was walking closer to her friend and studying his face. She quickly walked in front her brother stopped him. 

“Elias, if you just came here for no reason, then please back of, I don’t have time for you now.” She said and looked at all of his friends, including Yousef.  Isak just stood there, not knowing what was happening. “Why were you hugging?” Elias asked again and looked at him with a confused face. “We talked about something.” Isak got in but Elias looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “I’m talking to my sister right now, please keep your mouth shut. So, Sana, why were you hugging him?” he asked and focused on Sana again.

“What the fuck, Elias?! I hugged him because I wanted to! Because I was feeling like shit! Because he was the only one noticing how I was! Okay?!” she yelled at her brother and looked judging at his friends. 

“I don’t need you to come with your… army and being rude to my friend. Just because he’s a boy?! Am I not allowed to hang out with boys like you hang out with girls?” She questioned him and put her bag onto the bench. She could feel the heat running through her body. It was always like this, just because she was a muslim girl, she isn’t apparently allowed to do certain things. But being with her close friends could not be one of them. 

“Sana… That’s different with you. I don’t want others to misunderstand you or judge you.” Elias started to explain but she started to laugh at him. “How do you expect that when you are misunderstanding me yourself?!” she said calmly and looked him into his eyes. He was just looking embarrassed onto his feet. 

“Okay, I’m sorry Sana, I really am. I just.. When I saw you with a guy, I just had these brother instincts.” He told her and Isak and her started to laugh. “Elias, you don’t have to worry about that at all. There is not even a small possibility for me to date him.” she took her bag and looked at her confused brother and Yousef, who looked as confused as her brother, but with a little smirk on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Isak stood up now and walked next to Sana and put his arm onto her shoulder. “I have a boyfriend, and we’re very happy with our relationship.” he told Sana’s older brother and Sana smiled mischievously.

“Oh.” was all he could say. 

“Stop misunderstanding people, big brother.” she said and walked away with Isak.

Essays in Existentialism: Blind III

Could you do more blind!Lexa? part 3 Please? YAY? c: c: c: you’re awesome !

Previously on Blind

Deep into the springtime of the city, the rain tapped against window while the dog snored on his pillow. It was a quiet kind of Tuesday in the history wing of the old Fisher building, and the professor graciously accepted the reprieve before the onslaught of finals commenced. 

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The Kiss Cam or Why Danny Will Probably Never Be Taking Steve to Another Football Game

Written by Praemonitus_Praemunitus

Summary: I came across this gif on my twitter TL and the muse got all fired up and tossed out this little drabble. Very non-pp drabble - zero whump, zero angst, all fluff

Note: a special thank you to Mary (erienne1983) for being a super McDannoPedia and finding out which is Danny’s favorite team!


Steve’s cold.  Freezing, in fact.  He’s pretty sure his cheeks, lips and nose are suffering the effects of frostbite.  His fingers and toes are numb, despite the warm gloves and the extra pair of socks he managed to squeeze into his boots.  He’s also fairly sure his butt’s frozen to the bench – he can’t feel the damn thing anymore.  And if this game goes into overtime, which is starting to become a real possibility now, he fears they will need ice picks to chisel him out of his spot.  

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Originally posted by garisanee

Character(s): Reader X Minhyuk, Side!BoraXHyunwoo

Genre: Smut, pwp, college!au, established relationship, cheerleader!minhyuk

Warning(s): edging, breathplay, semi-public sex (car sex), degradation, praise-kink, lmao what else is new, roughish, dom!minhyuk

Length: 4.8k

Summary: In which Lee Minhyuk, your cheerleader boyfriend, wants to reward you for winning the football game.

A loud scream ripples through the bleachers as you hike the football closer to your chest, a bead of sweat rolling down your forehead and blurring your vision. Your legs are nearly numb with exhaustion as your sprint across the field, eyes on the end zone. The smell of grass, sweat, and gatorade lingers under your nose and everything turns hazy for a second, blending into a single blurry moment.

The sensory details fade and all you can feel is the screaming muscles in your legs as you slide down the field, toppling over as the booming voice of the commentator comes over the speakers.

“And she’s in!”

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anonymous asked:

hi! do you know of any fics where it's like a lawyer!au? (like, yanno- suits, office, etc...)


For better, for worse by Vendelin

Derek and Stiles have been married for six years. Derek loves his job as a successful lawyer, loves his financial security and his large house. It isn’t until Stiles gets shot while working that he starts to understand that maybe Stiles isn’t loving their life as much as Derek is.

How Derek Got His Groove Back by WhoNatural

Cora kicks him under the table. “Do you have the hots for the baby lawyer?” she hisses urgently, and Derek blinks at her, feeling his face heat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s young enough to be my–”

“Younger brother,” she cuts in, and shakes her head. “Age difference excuses do not fly with me. Are you gonna ask him out? Derek, you need to do something about that.”

“About what?” he says, frowning, watching as Stiles sits down at a table with a group of older, lawyer-types.

“The fact that you’re both about one drink away from sex in some janitor’s closet.”

like old times… with a twist by triggeringthehealing

It’s not that Derek is new to being arrested, or having handcuffs chafing his wrists. But he managed to stay away for a few years, since he left Beacon Hills. So when he’s sitting in a police station, cuffed to the bench, it feels like old times and not in a good way. That is, until the lawyer he called for shows up.

Double Negatives by i_am_girlfriday

Derek is a high powered lawyer, and a born and bred Upper East Sider. Stiles is a broke actor who’s grateful to land a full time job as Derek’s newest assistant. Their working relationship is one hundred percent professional…except for when it’s not.

With the City Below by frek

Okay so maybe it’s a post case celebration. It’s the first case Derek let Stiles take the lead on and he had won and Derek couldn’t be more proud. (Suits inspired lawyer AU)

anonymous asked:

2p's at Disney World (you know you want to answer this question, hehehehe~)


2P Italy: how the fuck did anyone manage to get this guy to Disney World?? anyway, he’d dress up as some villain from a Disney movie and go around scaring poor innocent children until the Disney worker people heard about it and called the cops

2P Germany: rides every single roller coaster, flirts with all the Disney workers dressed as princesses……possibly buys himself a Cinderella dress, puts it on, and runs around wearing only one shoe

2P Japan: again, how the fuck did anyone get this guy to agree to go to Disney World??? well I guess he’d ride only the scariest rollercoasters, but mostly he’d sit down on a bench somewhere and stare at shit on his phone until he could leave

2P Romano: yeah this guy legit walks into the Disney princess dress store and buys himself a Sleeping Beauty dress (“I liked the style of the Belle dress, but yellow is just not my color”), then runs into a bathroom somewhere to change into the dress and put on makeup. A lot of kids mistake him for one of the Disney workers dressed as princesses so he ends up letting like 34189374 people take pictures with him

2P Prussia: best day of his entire fucking life, I swear to god—- he feels so at peace as he sees all the happy families hanging around and he ends up riding all the roller coasters and staying at night to see the fireworks (omg he’s the only one who does normal Disney stuff while he’s there)

2P France: tbh he probably stays in the hotel room and watches porn. He might go to the dress store and buy himself a tiara, for some reason??

2P America: eats a bunch of food and then goes on a roller coaster, vomits all over a bunch of kids, ends up being escorted off the premises

2P Canada: wanders around aimlessly until he just goes in a bathroom and sits on a toilet while he watches Grey’s Anatomy on his phone

2P England: gets himself a tiara and a magic wand (also known as an overpriced stick with a star on one end), then runs around gently hitting kids on the head with the wand and saying “bippity boppity boo”

2P China: after he smokes weed in a bathroom, he goes on the same rollercoaster 6 times, buys himself an inordinate number of stuffed animals, and throws his entire wallet into a fountain while saying “dis better be enough to make mah wish come true muthafucka”

2P Russia: accidentally scares a bunch of kids by looking too serious, ends up sitting on a bench alone, feels pretty sad until one kid runs up to him and starts talking about how they want to grow up to be big like him one day awh

It was in the News

He parks his car in front of the factory gate and lifts his heavy body outside. Standing beside the open door he pulls the slightly slipped waistband over his wide butt again. As usual, he therefore hooks his thumbs in the waistband at the back and lets them slide forward without really expecting to pull it over his mighty, overhanging paunch.

“I really should lose weight,” he thinks.

He still feels the celebration of his fifty-ninth birthday in his bones. Nevertheless, he is more than punctual. He did not want to come too late on this date, to which the chairman of the board of directors had appointed him. He has no idea what exactly the occasion is. Just that it is about financial matters. But if a meeting is scheduled for a Saturday morning, it is certain that not everyone should know immediately what’s going on. As usual, he wears a suit and a tie, and quickly walks the few steps to the porter’s lodge. He bends forward until he is able to speak through the small window.

“Good Morning. My name is Krause. Otto Krause. I have a meeting with the board. ”

The doorkeeper puzzles in his book, then points on a spot with his finger.

“There you are. Otto Krause. One moment please.”

The doorkeeper closes the small window and comes out of his box.

“Well, would you please follow me, Mister Krause.”

The doorkeeper turns around and starts to walk so fast that the fat man has to strain himself to follow. Again and again he has to make one, two jump steps that let his belly bounce.

“Please slow down a little. No one is following us. ”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I am not allowed to stay away from the gate too long.”

Breathing heavily, the fat man follows the doorkeeper across the factory until they finally enter an almost empty hall. The doorman walks on until he stands in front of one of the last heavy workbenches and turns around.

“Please wait here, I’ll be right back.”

While the doorkeeper leaves the hall, he sits with his hands on the workbench and breathes deeply through. As he breathes quietly again, he looks around. He has not been here since his apprenticeship. It’s been ages since then. After the apprenticeship he studied, then he became a department manager and now he is in the upper management. Since he carried out the restructuring, the company is doing well again; financially anyway. The fact that he had billed his expenses somewhat generously was actually his right. Only the board looked at this a little different.

“No tools, no machines. Almost empty. Maybe it’s about further use of this area. ”

He lifts his heavy onto the workbench.

“Wait and see what happens” he thinks.

A few minutes have passed when he hears footsteps and voices outside the hall. The gate opens and two people are coming towards him. He recognizes the doorman and the head of the personnel department. He immediately stands up and stands in front of the workbench. The two men quickly approach him.

“Good morning!” he calls out to them.

“Morning Mister Krause” the head of HR answers.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really. Why do we meet here? A strange place for a board meeting”

The head of HR becomes serious.

“It’s not a meeting.”

Krause looks questioning.

“You may know that some inconsistencies have occurred in your expense statements during the last revision.”

“Yes. But the restructuring was a success. You’ll probably be allowed to celebrate it.”

“Celebrate, yes. But not with money that does not belong to you.”

“Oh, come on. A few hundred Euro. I finally saved millions. ”

“It’s not about the amount, it’s about your behaviour. The chairman will dismiss you without notice for fraud and embezzlement. ”

Krause beckons.

“Slow down. We can talk about everything. ”

“The CEO may report you to the police. I checked the relevant laws. Fraud, embezzlement of company funds and the total amount; the courts are not squeamish in these cases. Three years imprisonment is the normal sentence. Then you are sixty-two and convicted. You will not get a job any more. And retirement? You will definitely not get any payments from the company. And you may also pay damages. ”

The fat man looks down on the ground.

“Is it true that you first denied everything?”


The head of HR shakes his head.

“Mister Krause, I’m sorry to say so, but you’re an idiot.”

“Yes, yes, I know. That is why I am obviously here today. We could balance the sum with my salary. In that case I would work for almost nothing for a month. That should repair the damage.”

“If you are allowed to work here at all, then certainly not to your current references.”

Krause looks down on the floor and breathes a few times. Then he looks up again.

“Where should I work next?”

“That depends on how you behave today.”

Krause’s round face looks questioning.

“I told the chairman that he should think about the case again. After all, you’ve been working here for over 40 years, without any complaints. That’s why I’m authorized to make you an offer. ”


“He renounces the termination of your contract and the report to the ploice if you agree to a physical punishment.”

Krause did obviously not understand.

“Okay. You keep your job and do not have to go to jail if you … ”

“If I what.”

“If you accept a corporal punishment.”

“Corporal punishment?”

“With a cane. You accept a couple of strokes with a cane. This is quite common in other countries as you probably know.”

The fat man gulps and looks at his opponent with a slightly open mouth.

“Come on. A few hits have never harmed anybody and are quickly done. We do not want to hang you at once.”

“Hang me?”

The fat man presses the lips together and twists his head slightly, as if he already feels the noose around his neck. Then he glances at the head of HR.

“No. Never. It’s out of the question.”

“So you’d rather go to prison?”

Krause turns around and starts to walk up and down, calculating the opportunities silently.

“You will not get a single room in prison. I could imagine that thieves, murderers and rapists would love to take care about a huge manager like you.”

The fat man comes back and stands in front of the head of HR.

“How many?”

“I do not know. The CEO just said that you should get yourself hooked up on the workbench and wait for what happens. He would think about time and quantity. Maybe nothing happens, and he just wants to show you that he got you at the balls.”

Krause goes back and forth, shakes his head and chews on the fingernails.

“Think about it. For the first time in prison at your age. They will break you in there. ”

Krause turns around abruptly.

“All right, I agree.”

The head of HR smiles at him.

“Very good.”

Then he steps aside and the porter comes up with a piece of paper, which he places on the workbench.

“Mister Krause, please sign.”

Krause takes the pen in his chubby hand and puts his name on it. The doorkeeper flies over it briefly and faces the fat man.

“Please stand in attention.”

The fat man gazes back and forth between the two men.

“Mister Krause, please,” says the head of HR,

“Remember your army time: heels together, head up, chest out.”

“All right. If that pleases you. ”

He takes a small step away from the workbench. Then he lets his hands sink down at the side of his trousers, straightens himself and stands firm in front of the doorman and the head of HR. The doorman is right in front of him.

“Mister Krause, you have agreed to be physically punished to avoid a denunciation. Please undress now for the execution.”

Krause does not react at first.

“Undress!” The doorman repeats a little more definite.


“You have to undress, Mister Krause,” the doorman says quietly but very clearly.

The fat man looks a bit questioning to the head of HR.

“Please do what you are told to do. Or did you think you will be beaten, dressed in your suit?”

The fat man curses a few times quietly. The corners of his mouth tremble with rage, as he first strips off his shoes and takes off the jacket. His huge round paunch stretches the shirt and hangs over the belt. He looks around briefly. The doorman pushes an old chair toward him and the fat man puts the jacket over the backrest. Furiously, he opens his tie and the top buttons of the shirt. Then he opens the cuffs of his shirt and pulls it without opening it completely and together with the tie over his head. He puts his shirt over the back of the chair and pulls the waistband over his wide butt again. His white undershirt stretched tightly over the belly and his breasts. He looks at the porter, then the head of HR, but none of them shows any reaction.

“Assholes,” he mutters angrily.

He bends his massive upper body backwards and pulls in the belly vigorously to reach the belt, which he then opens with the right hand. He resolutely opens his waistband and fly, drops his trousers and steps out. He does not realize, that the two men look at the garters that prevent the black socks from slipping down the thick lower legs. Like his undershirt, his short, white briefs fit tightly around the massive body, so that his genitals are clearly visible on the front. He has drawn the briefs over his broad butt, but his paunch laps over it. The undershirt has slipped out at the front, so that naked belly fat appears between the shirt and the waistband of the underpants. When he starts to lift his undershirt, the porter stops him.

“That’s enough,” he says, signing the fat man to step closer to him.

“Hands forward.”

Krause reaches out his hands and holds them crosswise. The porter gets them at the wrist and turns them so that the underarms of the fat man are almost in parallel. Well skilled, the porter ties the forearms together with a rope slightly above the wrists.


Krause pulls his hands back, but can not take them down and has to rest his hands on the belly.

“Please sit down on the bench.”

Hesitantly the fat man approaches the workbench and lifts his body on it. It is not easy with his hands tied together and his feet loosing contact to the floor. So he has to move on his wide but from side to side until he sits on the bench, feeling the cold wood through the briefs. He slowly bends backwards until he can not hold himself anymore and tilts on his back. At the same time he angles his legs and stretches his tied hands forward as if he is looking for a stop. Then he begins to jerk his fat body on the bench back and forth, until he is finally outstretched on the bench.

“Do you always wear garters, Mister Krause?”

Krause blushes. Just recently, he had bought a pair but only worn them when the press or television was around. Naked legs were supposed to be not telegenic. He doesn’t know why he put them on this morning. But how should he imagine that he had to expose himself in underwear, socks and garters.

“Also at the weekend?”

Krause lifts his head a little.

“Anything against it?” he barks at the head of HR who lifts his hands excusing.

“No, no. It was just a question. Would you please turn around lie on your belly?”

Cumbersome the fat man turns himself around, groaning quietly. He studs on his elbows and looks at his tormentors. The doorman steps behind him, ties his legs at the ankles and stretches them backwards. Then he walks around and stands in front of his victim.

“Your hands, please.”

The fat man stretches his arms, slipping with his elbows over the plate until he is only lying on his paunch. The doorman pulls his hands to the front, ties them to a rope, so that the fat body lies stretched on the bench. Krause is softly groaning while the porter has once again checks the shackles. He turns to the head of HR.

“I have to go back to the gate. And you?”

“Me too. We are finished here. ”

Krause turns its head.

“And what about me?”

“You have to wait here, Mister Krause.”

He gives the fat man another slap on the back, turns around and follows the porter. Alone in the hall, clothed only in underwear and socks, the fat man rapidly begins to freeze. Cold sweat forms on his fat body, he begins to tremble. Toughly the minutes pass, in which he can do nothing but wait and freeze with fear and cold. With every minute he realizes how his fat body squeezes the air out of him, he begins to groan and gasp for air. Finally, he hears footsteps behind him, coming through the hall toward him and stopping close to him. He tries to turn around, bends the fat body on the workbench to see who is behind him. But he immediately realizes that he will not succeed and so he stretches straight out again.

“There he is, my fat friend. How long is he lying here?”

He recognizes the voice of the chairman.

“Since half past ten, as you requested,”

The second voice is that of the doorman, who stands beside the CEO.

The chairman puts a hand on Krause’s butt, and then slowly walks along, carrying his hand across the back of the fat man. Finally he stands at the front of the bench. Krause tries to lift his head, but can not see the face of his boss. When he wants to let his head sink down again, he feels a hand under his chin. The chairman bends back the head of the fat man until he can look at it.

“And you obviously show remorse when you present yourself that way.”

“Yes,” Krause groans, “I regret all I have done. Really!”

“Oh that’s nice. But you know, fraud is the one thing; but this stubbornness, this criminal energy, right? ”

“Yes” the fat man groans.

“I’m sure you understand if I leave you here to think about your behaviour.”

“Yes, I understand,” he squeezes out hoarsely.

“And let the punishment be done a little later?”

Krause nods frantically, blasting the air. The chairman turns to the porter.

“Let him lie here for one more hour, and then he gets three times five strokes. I think that will be enough. ”

The chairman takes his hand away, and the fat man lets his head sink into his arms. Tears come into his eyes and he hears the two of them leave the hall.

The fat man remains alone in the hall tied on the workbench. Time stretches endlessly as he fights constantly against the increasing shortage of breath and convulsions.

suddenly he again hears someone entering the hall. He finally recognizes a big, powerful man in a gray tunic.

“Hannes? Is that you?”

“Yes, Otto, it is me.”

“Please untie me. Please, please,” the fat man stammers.

The man goes down to his knees and looks directly into Krause’s face.

“Do you remember how we started here?”

“Of course I know that,” the fat man replies angrily.

“I was the last production manager and you were a board member. Then you reorganized the company and now you’re still in the board and I’m a caretaker.”

“I got you a new job.”

“I’m grateful for that.”

“Then please untie me.”

“No way, Otto. We are not that far yet. First I have to give you the strokes that the boss has requested.”

The fat man lifts his head.

“Do you really want to hit me?”

“I have to. The boss ordered that you get three times five strokes before you are allowed get up. ”

“But you can not do that. Please. I will not betray you either. ”

“Oh no. I’m glad I got this job and I do not want to lose it. I only do what I am told. I have nothing against you personally. Really. But job is job, I’m sorry. ”

He walks around the workbench, hooks a pulley into the rope at the ankles, and starts quietly to tension him. The fat man hears the squeaking of the reels.

“What are you doing?” Krause asks in horror.

“I’m really sorry for you, but I have to stretch you before I start. So that you don’t move and stay firmly in that position,” says the caretaker, while slowly stretching the pulley block.

“You got fat within the last years, Otto. Surely 120kg, right?”

Krause does not answer. He groans only softly as the cords continue to tighten. The caretaker stops briefly with his work.

“Come on. How much do you put on the scales. ”

Krause remains silent, only breathes audible.

“I may have a look on your last health check. But this takes of course some time and you will have to lie here. So what is your weight now? 120? 130? ”

“125” squeezes the fat man.

The caretaker turns back to the pulley and stretches his victim. Krause notes how the shackles begin to dig into his ankles. Then he slips a few inches with the belly over the bench and his handcuffs begin to cut into the wrists. The fat  man throws his head back and blows the air out of thick cheeks.

“Please stop! I admit everything! ” he cries with fear in his voice.

“You do not have to admit anything,” he hears the caretaker from behind, “but you should relax. Then stretching is not too painful. ”

Krause breathes a few times frantically, then lets the head sink forward, exhaling deeply. The caretaker pulls the pulley evenly tighter and tighter. The cords are carving into the wrists and ankles of the fat man and stretch his body, until he can’t move any more. A deep moaning comes out of his wide opened mouth before his head sinks down to the workbench and he breathes frantically. The caretaker once again checks the pulley, walks around the workbench, takes an old blackboard from the background and places it in front. From the back of the board he takes out a long cane, which he places lengthwise between his victims arms, so that he has to look at it. He opens his smock and places it at the blackboard. He takes the cane into his right hand and strikes it through the air a few times, creating a whistling sound. Then he turns to the fat man, who is facing him with a painful look.

“Fifteen strikes for a deceiver are actually very little. So let’s start, I want to be ready by noon.”

The caretaker walks slowly to the legs of the fat man who groans on the workbench. He already noticed the garters at the very beginning, but now he can not stand any more. He pushes his index finger under the rubber band and lifts it a few inches.

“How long have you been wearing garters, Otto?”

Krause tries to ignore his tormentor and looks sniffing straight.

“Wasn’t it incredibly embarrassing when you had to drop your pants and stand there in garters?”

“Yes,” Krause grunts.

“That’s good to know. So I leave everything as it is, although I should actually push your socks down. It is already enough naked skin to see for a couple of hits.”

So the caretaker lets the rubber snap and steps back slightly. He places the stick on the naked part between the socks and the rubber band of the garters, and stops when the tip of the cane just reaches out over the tightly lying calves. Slowly he lifts the stick over his head, hesitates a second, and then slams hard. The fat man twitches and holds his breath. The caretaker walks slowly to the blackboard, notes the strike and goes back to the end of the workbench. The fat man tries to look over his shoulder. He sees the caretaker stand beside him and lift his hand with his cane over his head. He hesitates again, giving the next blow to the thighs of the fat man, who groans and throws his head back. Again, the caretaker goes forward and notes the blow, then slowly returns, raises the cane, hesitates and then again hits hard and precisely on the calves of the fat man, who throws his head to the neck and squeezes his mouth not to scream. Slowly, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes the blow, and goes back to his last position. He raises the cane, hesitates briefly and then hits the thighs of the fat victim again, who groans briefly and tightens his fat body. While he is still struggling for air, the caretaker goes back to the blackboard to make a note. When he returns he speaks to the fat man.

“I will give you the fifth blow on the calves again; agreed?”

“Please …” Krause groans.

“Fine, your calves are thick enough for three strikes,” the caretaker laughes.

Then he raises his cane again, hesitates and hits hard for the third time on the fat calves, which makes Krause cramp in pain. When the caretaker returned from the blackboard, the fat man still struggles for air. He pets him on the back.

“You have to relax. Everything is easier to bear then. Believe me. I’m not doing this for the first time. ”

Krause breathes deeply in and out, dropping the head to the forward stretched arms. In doing so, he notes how the caretaker grasps his undershirt and rips it with a hard tug. Krause feels the cold air on his wet, sweaty back.

“Well, let’s go on.”

Again, the caretaker takes his cane, stands beside his fat victim, and looks at Krause huge belly swelling out on both sides.

“You became that fat on my expences, you pig,” he thinks.

He raises the cane over his head, hesitates and then hits hard on the wide back lying in front of him. Krause groans and bends his fat body.

“Five strokes on such a broad hump. That is ridiculous.”,

the caretaker mutters to himself, as he goes to the blackboard to record the blow. When he is standing next to the fat man again, he speaks to him.

“Can you tell me how I should smash your back with just five blows?”

Krause does not answer, groans only softly. Then he hears the whistle of the cane again, and feels the piercing pain as the stick hits his back in the middle. His fat body cramps and he hears a deep scream coming out of his mouth. When he recovers his breath, the caretaker is already standing next to him, pushing his pants back slightly, so that the hips are no longer covered. The fat man is waiting for the next blow. His lips tremble, tears rise into his eyes. The caretaker reaches out and strikes the cane with all his power across Krause’s fat hips. Krause throws his head back, opens his mouth, but only a hoarse rattle comes out of his throat, then his head sags forward. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he pets the fat man on the tied hands.

“Now it’s time for lunch.”

He puts the cane away, loosens the pulley block, unpacks thermos, bread and newspaper, and sits down next to the fat man, whimpering on the workbench.

After his break, the caretaker stows away his stuff.

“Well, let’s start again.”

He goes back and starts to tension the pulley again. Krause wakes up. He recognizes that he is stretched again, stretched hard at arms and legs until he can’t move anymore.

"Your weight is 125 kilos?”

The fat nods.

“Or perhaps 140?”

He stretches the thickness even more.

“130” Krause groans.


The porter stretches the fat man. The cords creak and dig into the thick arms and leg.

“134!” he presses out.

The doorkeeper fixes the rope and stands next to his victim.

“You were lying, Otto. I have to report this. You know the company standards. But for now I will only finish the actual punishment. So please stay calm. We’ll be ready soon. ”

He fetches his cane, then stands next to his victim and strikes hard on his hump. The fat man groans only briefly without lifting the head. The caretaker notes the blow on the blackboard. When he comes back he speaks to the fat man.

“The last one was a little weak. But I’ll do it now. ”

He stands beside his victim and puts the cane on the fat hips. The fear of the next blow lets Krause tremble uncontrolled and suddenly he senses a warmth between his thighs. He can‘t prevent his bladder from failing and his warm urine to spread beneath him. He feels the wetness between the thighs as it spreads under his belly and let howl with shame. The caretaker looks grinning, as a puddle forms under his victim, which quickly seeps through the wood of the bench and drips to the ground.

“Fear?” He asks, and the fat man nods.

“You have every reason for that.”

Then he reaches out and strikes his cane once more across the fat hips. The fat man cramps and cries out loud. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he slowly passes his victim until he stands beside his butt. As the caretaker pulls the waist of his underpants, he throws his head.

“No! Please, no,” he calls desperately.

But the caretaker rips the fabric with a hard jerk, so the whole ass is lying naked in front of him.

“It’s only five on the bare ass. You will stand that with such a gorgeous butt. And besides, your briefs are completely wet because you’ve pissed yourself, Otto. ”

The caretaker gently caresses the bulging butt in front of him. Then he lifts the cane over his head, hesitates and hits with all his power. A red line immediately forms on the white skin. The fat cramps together, screaming loudly before his head falls on the arms. Tears run down his cheeks.

The caretaker performs the rest of the sentence without a word. Krause obviously surrenders, and only mutes his massive body when a blow hits him. After every hit, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes it, and returns to his whimpering victim. For the last time, he stands beside him, lifts the cane over his head and then pulls him hard over the naked, wide butt. The fat man only twitches briefly, as if he had grown accustomed to the burning pain. The caretaker lets his eyes spread over the fat body and nods contentedly. Fifteen dark red lines stand out on the white skin, distributed between the shoulders and the feet. He goes to the board, notes the blow, and turns to his victim.

“Well, that’s it.”

Krause breathes heavily, struggles for air, while his tormentor walks along him, touching the strokes easily with his hand.

“Please. I can’t stand this any longer,” Krause groans.

“Well, you’ll have to wait a little longer, dear.”

The caretaker slowly goes to the pulley block. As he loosens it, the fat man blows out the air audibly, and his still tied legs. The fat man expects his bonds to be taken off. But the caretaker bends over him, picks up a tensioning chain from the other side of the workbench and places it over his back. Krause notes the cold steel on the skin and tries to turn the head.

“What are you doing there?”

He asks anxiously, noting the chain is tightened over his back, digging itself in his back and pressing his body on the bench. The caretaker removes the rope from the fat man’s wrists, and immediately Krause tries to reach the chain over his back.

“Stop doing that. You can’t do anything.”

The caretaker looks calmly as the fat man in front of him desperately tries to reach the lock of the chain. After only one or two attempts, the Krause surrenders and lets the head sink to the bench.

“Well, then,” says the caretaker.

“Now take your hands on your back.”

“What for?”

The caretaker grasps the cane.

“Just do it.”

The fat man slowly pushes his hands back and tries to cross them on his back. But because of his massive body he can only lay his hands on his hips. He notes how the caretaker pulls a cord under his arms and pushes it up to the elbows. Then the caretaker pulls the rope with all his power. Krause’s upper arms are thrown on the back of the fat man, he groans loudly, distorts his face, bends the upper body backwards. The caretaker knots rope quickly at the elbows, so that the upper body is always slightly bent back even when the fat victim relaxes. In the meantime, the caretaker removes the bonding at Krause’s ankles. As he begins to pull the right foot to the side and ties it to the bench, the fat man begins to stomp and twist his fat body. He knows what is ahead of him and starts to roar.

“No!! Don’t do that! NO!! NO!!”

But the caretaker catches his free leg, with which he kicks in the air and tiesit to the other side of the bank. With his legs slightly apart, the caretaker is now standing next to his victim, and he can see the large, hairy testicles hanging low between the thighs. He reaches into a bucket of grease, which stands under the bench and rubs his hands in a position next to Krause’s face, so that he must see it.

“Your first time, Otto?”

Krause stares at the greasy hands and gulps.

“Then you should relax. Actually, I wanted to fuck you. But I don’t want to make myself unnecessarily dirty. ”

The caretaker walks quietly past his victim until he stands beside his butt. He puts the greasy hand on the cheeks and pushes them slowly into the rear sight, until he can feel the anus of his victim with his finger. Slowly he orbits the sphincter, and strengthens slightly the pressure on the anus of the fat man, who strains, groans and tries to press his anus. The caretaker enjoys, as his victim winds, knowing that there is no chance for him. He turns around a little and puts his forearm between the fat thighs, without reducing the pressure on the sphincter. His finger now points straight at the anus, and with a twisting motion he finally lets it slide inside until his knuckles reach the sphincter. Krause breathes loudly and groaning as he notices how something penetrates his anus and is slowly moved in it. He can’t stop his bent legs from twitching involuntarily as he feels the hand of the housekeeper at his glans.

“Is a small cock required to become a board member?”

Krause does not answer but moans softly. He had never had this feeling of fear and excitement that begins to spread in his guts. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply and evenly. He is confused because he is no longer resisting, but enjoys the pleasant feeling that flows through him when his tormentor’s finger presses against his prostate.

A mixture of shame and pride fills him up when he realizes how his penis becomes hard in the hand of the caretaker. Nevertheless, he is relieved when he feels the grip on his glans vanishes and the finger is pulled out of his anus. He breathes deeply, hoping that this has been the end of his humiliation. The caretaker slowly walks along his fat victim until he stands in front of the blackboard, wiping his hands with a rag.

“You’re already dripping, like a young bride.”

The fat man tries to see what the caretaker does. There is horror in his face as he turns around and slowly greases a wooden pole with a knob on one end.

“No,” he whispers in fear of what is ahead of him.

He senses the fear in the stomach and his cock, which pushes hard against his body.

“Please no”

The caretaker slowly returns. As he pushes his buttocks wide with one hand, Krause begins to groan. The caretaker leads the cane between the butt buttocks, touches the anus of the fat man, who compresses the buttocks again and rears the upper body

“Please, please no,” howls the fat man.

He feels the fear in the stomach down to the testicles.

“You should not fight back, Otto, or it will hurt,” says the caretaker,

Strengthens easily the pressure on the anus of the fat man

“I can not do that,” Krause whispers,

bending the upper body and compressing the buttocks. The caretaker simply waits, holding the stick with light pressure on the anus. Finally, the fat man surrenders powerless. He sinks down slowly, breathing deeply, and relaxing his buttocks.

“Well, that’s how it goes”

“Oh God, oh God” Krause groans as he feels the cane beginning to spread the sphincter and slowly penetrates into it. The caretaker observes how the sphincter slowly widens. How often had he visualized this picture in the last few years and often enough he was masturbating at night. He enjoys the way the fat man winds in front of him and winches again and again. From time to time he reduces the pressure and allows the fat man to push the stick out again. He pauses for a moment and then increases the pressure again. Slowly the caretaker leads the pole deeper and deeper into the anus of the fat man groaning on the workbench. Krause feels his anus being stretched further and further, has the feeling as if it would be torn appart. He always tries to beg for mercy, but he only produces gurgling and moaning sounds. He twists his eyes, but no scream leaves his mouth, opened wide in pain and fear. Little by little his anus expands when his tormentor increases the pressure. Then suddenly he realizes how his sphincter relaxes and he breathes more easily. The thickest part of the pole has passed his anus and now slides deeper into it, slowly and without any pressure. Krause one feels the pole in his cock, feels as it pushes against his gut and slides along it. Deeper and deeper, the caretaker pushes the cane. When the fat man feels that the cane comes out of his belly button, he rears the upper body and pokes out a short scream. The caretaker stops briefly, then begins to slowly move the stick back and forth, up and down, watching the reactions of the fat man. His free hand slips into his pocket and starts to masturbate his own cock.

“That’s right, fatso. Fight and struggle,” he thinks.

The fat man in front of him winds, groaning loudly as the cane drifts deep into his bowel. He watches thick drops of sweat appear on the broad back, and in thin streaks run down the bulging belly, on which he rolls back and forwards in pain. Actually, the caretaker wanted to intrude the pole into the fat man in its entire length. Deeper and deeper. Until it gets out of the mouth of this fat asshole. He wanted to impale him. Slowly, very slowly. He should know what happens to him. But he notices that at a certain position of the stick his fat victim groans deeply and moves the wide butt in circles. Without knowing it, he presses the tip of the stick against the prostate of the fat man and forces him to uncontrolled movements.

“That’s even better,” he thinks, as he reaches this point again.

The fat man shrugs his legs and pelvis, grunts deeply and persistently. Then he realizes how the caretaker grasps between his legs and holds his testicles firmly.

“You pig, you miserable pig.”

Krause groans, as the caretaker pulls his testicles back. For a long time the caretaker had imagined this moment. He quickly puts a thin wire loop around the ball sac and tightens it. Actually, he wanted to castrate the fat man during the impalement, like a piglet. Now he pulls the testicles backwards, until the skin of the sack lies tightly around them and fixes them with the wire to the stick. Krause suffers of a piercing pain. He bends his upper body back and screams. The caretaker releases the stick and watches it slowly sliding back into the gut by the contraction of the ball sac of his fat victim. When the end of the cane touches the prostate of the fat man again, he trembles with excitement. The caretaker looks at the shaking fat of his victim, and the long thread of secretion, which hangs down from the uncovered, dark red tip of the now highly sensitive penis. As he slowly pulls out the stick again and he rubs his own hard cock with his other hand. Further and further he stretches the testicles of the fat man, until the piercing pain makes him squeek.

“Another short jerk, and your eggs would be gone, fatso,” he thinks.

He had imagined this moment so often. Only a short jerk and a small turn and the balls would fall down and lie between the legs of this fat pig. But instead, he releases the stick again. Krause feels the stick slide slowly back into his bowel, finally touching his prostate gently and creating this strange feeling of excitement and nervousness that lets his hard penis bounce.

The caretaker opens his pants, pulls out his big, hard cock, and slowly lets his hand slide over its entire length. He pulls the pole back and pulls the ball sac of his victim longer and longer.

“Did you ever imagine to be castrated, Otto?”

The fat man only groans, squeezes the air with a dark red head, grips in the air with hands helplessly. The piercing pain hits him in the belly again. He rears up and shouts with a tilting voice. The caretaker enjoys the sight of the fat man. Sweating and whimpering in fear. He easily touches the now deep red, dripping glans.

“But I do not want to be that cruel. I’ll let you have one shot before your balls fall down.”

He again increases the stress to the testicle.

“And the sooner you come, the sooner you balls are off,” he says just before he releases the pole, which immediately slides back into the gut of the fat man. Krause presses and blows the air with thick cheeks. He gasps for air, sweat runs down his face. When his prostate is touched again, he has to bend his legs as if compelled, and rebounds the upper body. Krause gasps for air, is close to ejaculate. He moans loudly, throws his head back and his hands move helplessly in the air. At the same time, he winds the upper body and struggles with his fixed legs, wiggling back and forth on his belly. His testicles ache, he shrugs, moans and snaps, rolls back and forth on his paunch. Then he tightens the upper body, his whole fat body begins to tremble as he realizes he can’t hold back any longer.

“It’s coming,” he moans softly.

He twists his eyes, saliva runs out of his mouth. He blows, feels how the sperm oozes out, without having an orgasm. Then his head falls forward and he exhausted struggles for air. The caretaker looks closely at how the sperm drips from the bouncing cock of the fat man, gets the still erected penis of the fat man and slowly starts stroking the dark red, moisty glans while he masturbates at the same time. Immediately Krause begins to frantically rumble and prick. He lifts his head, stretches the body once again. He turns his eyes up, groans deeply from the torn mouth. His testicles ache, his hands grip helplessly in the air, his whole body trembles and makes his fat wobble. Suddenly his body tenses. He groans loudly in this forced orgasm, feels how once again sperm is driven out of his penis and at the same time feels something warm on his butt. He can’t see that the caretaker has shot a huge amount of sperm on his butt, which is now slowly running down. His head sinks exhausted, he groans contentedly and pulls the air deep into his massive body.

The caretaker releases his penis and wipes his hands on the thighs of his victim. He closes his pants and after a minute or two he takes the pole again and pulls it back slowly, stretching once again the balls until the fat man’s face twitches with pain.

“Well, Otto. Say "goodbye” to your balls.“

The fat man wants to beg for mercy, but the pain which rushes through his body makes him faint.

The caretaker loosens the wire, the bonding at the elbows and the feet of the fat man, who’s arms and legs drop powerless. He gives him a few minutes before he wakes him up with a few pats on the cheeks. The fat man groans softly in pain and is unable to move. Now the caretaker starts to remove the pole from the anus of his victim and enjoys once again his grunting. Finally, he loosens the chain above the upper body, grabs him by the shoulders and straightens him until he sits on the bench, moaning broadly and painfully. The caretaker pushes a rag on his stomach.

"Clean up that mess, fatso.”

Krause wants to push his right hand under his stomach and between his legs. He has infernal pain. But the caretaker slaps him.

“Hands off.”

Tears stream into Krause’s eyes.

“You really castrated me?”

The caretaker grins at him, whereupon the fat begins to cry unrestrainedly.

“It would have been easy. But I have not done it. ”

The fat man lolls himself from the bench, and naked as he is begins to wipe his sperm and urine, with the caretaker facing and watching him. Finally, he throws Krause’s clothes on the bench.

“Get dressed.”

Slowly the fat man puts his clothes on, and he groans again and again when he touches his wounds or his maltreated testicles. Finally, he buttons the jacket in front of his belly and stands with trembling corners of his mouth in front of the caretaker.

“Come along.”

The fat man follows the caretaker waddling through the plant until they are standing in front of the office of the chairman. The caretaker knocks, opens the door, and knows the thickness to enter. The chairman sits behind his desk and looks up briefly.

“Mister Krause, as you requested, Sir,” says the caretaker

The chairman reaches for a thin booklet, which is lying on his desk, gets up, and stretches out his hand. Krause hesitates.

“Mister Krause, every thing okay? I hope you do not need a doctor now. ”

Krause shakes his head silently.

“Very good. As you accepted, that I had to punish you anyway, that was the better solution, wasn’t it?”

The fat man nods silently.

“And after you’ve supported your punishment so well, I will let the whole matter rest.”

“Thank you,” Krause says voicelessly.

The director offers the file and the fat man takes it slowly.

“This is your new contract. You will be the head of our local office in Tehran. But I want to advise you to follow the local laws. Penalties are publicly executed there. Do you understand me?”

Krause nods.

“All right, then we’ll meet on Monday.”

Krause turns around and leaves the factory slowly, with shuffling steps. His testicles bounce loose in his pants and without underwear he feels strangely naked.

When he falls into the seat of his car, he moans. Trembling he opens the fly and lets his hand hesitantly slip inside. He lets his hand run down his naked belly and finally touches his aching testicles with his fingertips and smiles weakly, tears in his eyes. He had never thought about the pleasure to touch his own balls and find them at the place, where they used to be.

He starts the car.

The music from the radio becomes quieter and the anchorman starts.

“You’ve heard it in the news, but we have to come back to this topic again. Despite of international protests, the regime in Tehran has executed the castration of two men in public. The 49 and 56-year-old managers of an international company had previously been convicted by a jury of embezzlement and bribery … ”

Strong Style Strong

Not a request, but just something that had been floating around in my head for a few days.


You’re best friends with British Strong Style (Trent Seven, Tyler Bates, and Pete Dunne). You met on the UK independent scene years ago, you all had similar in-ring styles, you were even known as the Bitch of Strong Style (which you secretly loved) and now the four of you are now signed to NXT. The only downside? You now have to work for your father, William Regal. Things get a little difficult between you and your father and you’re surprised by which of your friends sticks up for you… and why.

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This Isn’t Love - Part 2

Words: 1,519

Pairing: Eventual Lucifer x Reader

Summary: Reader develops irrational feelings for the devil. But those feelings could never be reciprocated, could they?

Warnings: Reader is yelled at. Nightmare-ish dream. Mentions of loss of breath and feel suffocated. Angsty-ish.

Read - Part 1

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel

This Isn’t Love - Part 2

“I told you she wasn’t ready for this!” Dean raged to Sam as the Impala raced down the all but abandoned highway. His jaw was set as his hands clenched the steering wheel so tightly the tops of his knuckles were white.

It was supposed to have been a simple salt and burn case, the Winchesters reluctantly agreeing to bring you along on your first real hunting trip. But none of you could have anticipated Lucifer showing up. Even less anticipated was your still unexplained reaction towards him. Your mind whirred as you tried to reason away your behaviour, hoping to find a logical conclusion, but you couldn’t. You barely even heard Dean’s anger over your own thoughts.

“Dean, you agreed to her going” Sam replied rationally, though it was obvious that he too was a little shaken by the encounter.

“Guys, I’m sitting right here and it was my choice to go” you grumbled from the backseat, staring at your hands in your lap as guilt welled up in you.

“Then maybe you could tell us what the hell you were thinking back there” Dean demanded, ignoring Sam’s comment as his anger was clearly too far gone to attempt to make peace right now.

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