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#how to make pants smaller
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Trousers too loose? Make them fit comfortably with my super simple & fabulously fast tutorial!
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yellow-yarrow · 23 days
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I love doing beginner level tailoring on my clothes, if an actual tailor looked at it from up close they would weep, but it fits me better so it's fine
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daemonicdorset · 4 months
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Do you ever just
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mefilas · 5 months
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buying a new yearly planner is like a religious experience for me. huge fan of beginnings and ends
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maretriarch · 11 months
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as someone whos been literally everything from a 00 to an xxl the idea that finding smaller clothes is easier is a jooooke
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mentally ill people who for whatever reason end up wearing the same exact clothing so many days in a row that it begins to disintegrate and will still not stop wearing it until it’s literally just scraps of fabric VS. those weird shitty rich people who ‘’can’t be seen in the same outfit twice’’ human dichotomy 
#poast brought to you by my pants that are missing an entire leg and completely open in the back and the front almost#to the point they could not really be considered pants anymore (I wear lots of layers so i have shorts under them but lol)#I tore them again sitting down and it made me introspect about when it's time to throw clothes out and how everyone has different standards#and etc. Like how some people will get stains on clothing and just throw it away#.where others will keep wearing stained stuff if they have an attachment to it. etc. etc.#or like One hole in jeans is okay but 20 holes is Crossing A Line - unless they were made that way as a fashion trend#which then made me think about those people who like.. change clothes multiple times a day and never want to rewear stuff#and just have a constant stream of fast fashion etc. Anyway. not a real dichotomy. just being silly. i like to think about humans behaviors#brggghghb.. still not being very productive as I just keep having flare up after flare up of various chronic issues I have so I'm feeling#sick like every few days but always for different reasons. As if something has increased the general  inflammation in my entire body#and its just bopping around making different things worse here and there. but I'm not sure of any underlying cause.#theorectially could always be stress since I am often stressed but I don't feel stressed more than usual. I have no infection markers#on blood tests and my covid tests so far have been negative. I guess my body just felt like 'hey happy new year. would you like.. uhm...#some... Problems.. as a treat? OuO''#I mean I'm lucky at this point that I don't have a condition that makes me completely bedridden or something and am grateful for that but#having so many smaller issues in the background overlapping all the time can be ehxausting and make it feel like a larger issue#because you just never get a break. once one problem clears up it's another. etc. modifying diet. supplements. doctors. new issue. new modif#ications. new doctors. new this#new that. etc. For my body to reach some sort of non-inflammed stable state I feel like I'm going to have to just be suspended in a gladd#*glass antigravity chamber for 3 years eating nothing but basic gruel and iv liquids. something so bland and so untriggering of anything#that literally nothing can be inflammed or etc. lol.. Though I'd probably still somehow have joint pain even with nogravity.#ANYWAY... I did finally edit a new sims video. for the few of you that follow my sims youtube. I have costumes totally ready to post I just#literally havent had the energy to queue up the photos. STILL WORKING ON EVIL WORLDBULDING SLIDESHOW task of  epic proportions#. other videos. other stuff. I've had to spend some time on social stuff since I really ned to get started finding friends in the potential#places I'd like to move so I know people when I get there. as it takes me like years to trust someone. but hjgh... I am so like. inherently#unrelatable to the average person. at least the avg people on friend making sites and stuff. I even made a perosnal compatibility quiz#but again.. thats something most people don't do lol... ''buhh just text snapchat me & get to know me through conversation why should i take#a 15 minute quiz up front?'' shut up. i woudl LOVE to take a custom compatibility quiz before talking to someone. its efficent. you will nev#er get it. that is a positive to me. if only anyone else did that. if only. (I'm being jokingly rude. its perfectly reaosnable for people to#have different standards and communication styles. etc. etc. lol) ANYWAY.. tldr me sleepy and feel bad no productive wehh
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seveneyesoup · 1 year
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how to make a cropped baby tee out of an oversized tee!!
step 1: don’t
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sir-reinhardt · 2 months
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first attempt at a little sweater for my little guy 🥺 just need to make him pants now.
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Trousers too loose in the waist? ♻️✂️ Make them fit perfectly in minutes with my 3 super simple waistband shrinking methods!
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mommypieck · 2 months
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⌗︙・suguru's big cock ⸜⸜・
i feel like high school geto would be the lanky dude who's packing a lot in his pants. he's unable to wear tight pants because everyone can see what he's hiding underneath. that's why he has to wear baggy sweatpants.
you don't expect much when he invites you over to his house. you know exactly what he plans to do with you. he puts a movie on, throwing his hand around your shoulders. you look at him when a hand starts trailing up your skirt.
"have i told you how pretty you are yet?" he asks you, playing with your hair. you want to laugh at him, does he think it's gonna be so easy for him to get you in a bed with him?
he takes your hand in his, pressing it against his hard on.
"just a small touch." he purrs in your ear. geto starts moving your hand up and down his length over his pants. he feel... big? he slides down his pants, revealing his raging boner. he's the biggest you have never seen. you gulp, there's no way you would be able to take him inside.
"it's big, isn't it?" he smirks. you bite your lip at him, but you wrap your hand around him. your fingers don't even touch because of how girthy he is, but you don't let it show that you think he's big.
"i had bigger." you say, smiling under your nose. you want to tease him, make him feel like he's not special with the thing in his pants.
"oh yeah," he smirks and you try not to focus on how beautiful he is. everything is so perfect in this moment, his beautiful face next to you and his precum running down his shaft over your hand. "i asked satoru about you and he said you weren't able to take him even tho he's a bit smaller."
your eyes go wide, why would satoru talk about this with him? but at the end of the day, they are best friends. confidence grows inside of you, you won't let yourself be overpowered by fuck boys.
you climb over to sit on suguru's lap, pulling your panties on the side to tease his cock against your opening.
"satoru doesn't know shit, let me ride you to show you how i can take you."
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suguann · 2 months
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When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.
You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—
“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 
He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”
With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 
It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.
The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.
His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”
“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”
“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 
It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 
“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”
You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”
“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”
Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.
“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”
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Masterlist
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
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Virgin Choso who doesnt know why he feels hot one day when he looks at you, something twitching in his pants and his face turns pink from…embarrassment? He doesnt understand these new feelings that come with having a human body, and he doesn’t know why he’s reluctant to ask someone about it. Not you atleast, he couldn’t ask you. What if you thought he was weird? or creepy? why does he even care? he’s never cared about silly things like what others think of him.
When he eventually confides in his younger brother Yuji, he tells him something he can’t pick whether is terrifying or exciting. “its normal bro, you just like her,” he tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and when you like somebody they often make you feel uh…horny,” Yuji said grinning. Choso gets more and more embarrassed as Yuji tells him the basics of the birds and the bees.
Now Choso was in his bed, rock hard in his underwear after thinking about you for a little too long. He thought of what Yuji told him to do when his cock starts feeling weird, he had to ‘jerk off’ which his brother had told him would ’help the ache in his dick but make his feelings for you worse’
Choso sighed and reached a hand down to touch his cock, not yet reaching into his underwear. He sucked in a breath, it was terribly sensitive. pathetic.
He thought about you as he rubbed himself with his hand, thought about how you look when you laugh, about your pretty fucking eyes. The prettiest ones he’d ever seen in his almost 200 years of living. He shudders, and when he looks down again there’s a wet spot forming in his underwear, right where his tip was placed.
He feels dirty, he feels like a pervert. Thinking about his pretty friend while doing something so nasty. It feels wrong. But he needs it, he craves it.
He reluctantly pulls down his boxers, watching as his cock springs up, and it hurts. He thinks of you again, about that one time you stumbled over your own feet, and put your pretty little hand on his chest so you wouldn’t fall.
He touches his tip and he whines. fuck. it’s red and sensitive and little beads of what he assumes is pre cum, leaks out.
He starts playing with himself, grasping his length softly and stroking it once. He lifts up his tshirt and puts it in his mouth, to not make too much noice. it feels so fucking good already.
He begins stroking it slowly. up and down, just doing what feels good. He spits in his hand and brings it back to his cock to continue jerking off. He whimpers.
He’s so desperate for you to like him, for you to touch him, for him to be yours. And for you to be his. He closes his eyes, and he pictures you next to him, your smaller hand replacing his own, stroking him, telling him you love him. He thinks about kissing your pretty lips, holding your cute face in his hands. He thinks about being inside you,
his dick twitches as he groans, spilling his sticky load on his stomach while his whole body shakes. He stares at his mess, breathing heavily while he comes down from his high.
fuck. He wants you so bad, he needs you.
and Yuji was right, the ache in his now softening dick is gone, but the ache in his heart only got worse.
part two here
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vmpyria · 3 months
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alastor getting a noticeable hard on while watching you kneeling down doing something. you notice and you ummmm.. ya know.
HIS MOANS AND GRUNTS UGGGHKFNFJF I NEED HIM SO BAD
UGH, YES! IMAGINE THIS WITH ME NONNIE! i was so excited to write this, it’s a bit messy, but i hope it’s still enjoyable! you can always leave more thirsts & scenarios in my inbox! — here are my ACCOUNT RULES !
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“oh, hello alastor!” you said cheerfully, holding a clipboard that had a to-do list, filled with tasks to handle throughout the day.
you were just doing your daily rounds when alastor came along, grinning and wishing you a good afternoon. you liked alastor a lot, what originally was a friendship seemed to be slowly morphing into something more.
but you couldn’t tell, it was hard to so when alastor wasn’t open with his emotions.
“what do you have there, my dear?” he asked, staring at your clipboard.
looking down, you smiled. “oh! just some papers to fill out as well as things to do, you know..just doing my job.” you said sheepishly, moving the board to one hand as you rubbed the back of your neck.
alastor seemed interested, his bright red eyes focused on you entirely.
“i see! i must say, my dear. i like seeing how devoted you are to the hotel, i’m delighted charlie brought you in!” he cheered, holding his cane.
at his praise, you smiled, adverting your gaze. you were a bit embarrassed and flushed, but he was being so nice.
“thank you alasto— oh!” you were just about to thank him for his kind words before your clipboard fell, falling right on the clip that held the papers, making them scatter on the floor.
“damn it,” your muttered before dropping down on all fours to pick up the mess you made.
“darling! would you like some help?” alastor called from above you, you looked over your shoulder and shook your head. “no, no! i’m alright, how was your outing today?” you asked.
alastor’s gaze was on you, your back was facing him and so was your behind.
the pants you wore were outlining your curves and he was getting a front row seat to the view.
heat began to spiral inside his belly, his facing flushing. “it was quite alright, not much to see.” he replied, trailing off at the end as he watched you reach out to grab a paper.
your back was arched and the view he already had got better.
that was, until he felt a strain in his pants.
fuck. he knew exactly what it was, he tried to believe he was much more composed and controlled, but with you? it was hard to stay that calculated.
his cock strained against the dress pants he wore, his grip on his cane got tighter as he cleared his throat.
“that sounds nice, if i have time a stroll would be fun to go on!” you said, putting the papers back and clipping them before turning around on the floor.
you faced alastor and stared at his face, flushed and red! was he okay? could he be sick or something?
“are you..?” you asked, looking back down before looking at the bulge straining his pants. now this your off guard, “alastor?” you asked, staring at him with widened eyes.
he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, paralyzed in embarrassment.
he finally snapped back, “excuse me will you! i have something to take care of, talk again soon, perhaps!” he quickly, said wanting to take care of the warming lust he felt.
quickly you got on your feet and grabbed his hand, “no! come with me. let me help you. ” you said, now grinning at him. your room was just a few doors down.
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moans left your lips as your body was pressed against your warm bed, hands gripping alastor’s shoulders as he rutted himself inside you.
“o-oh, fuck!” you squealed.
you had never expected him to have it in him! to be fucking your smaller body into the mattress, having you cry out desperately.
alastor’s face was nuzzled into your neck, animalistic grunts leaving his lips as your cunt tightened around his cock.
his hands gripped your hips, claws digging into your plush skin.
his hips slapped against yours, leaving you into a babbling mess. yours grip on him was tight, moaning into his ear while your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping him close to you.
just as he thrusted, you felt the tip of his cock knock against your g-spot, the spongy spot having your cry out loudly.
“alastooor!” you drawled out, a grin coming to your lips, this might’ve been the best fuck you’ve had in all of these years in hell.
alastor muttered, his balls slapping against your skin, his body was hot. as your walls clung tightly around him, alastor was close, really fucking close.
giving you a heads up, alastor didn’t care to pull out.
stuffing you full with his cum, leaving you tired and shaky, smiling weakly as him as your legs were apart, showing off the mess he had left.
alastor grinned, “darling, you were so good to me!” he hummed, his hands slipping from abdomen to your thighs.
you would’ve replied, but truthfully you felt worn.
pushing your thighs apart even further, alastor lowered himself to your glistening stuffed cunt. your gaze was on him, “what are you doing?” you asked, alastor only smiled before pressing his lips against your sensitive clit.
your body jolted in response, a moan slipping past your lips loudly.
“i have to make sure you’re pleased, that wouldn’t be fair other wise. right, my dear?”
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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
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Simon loves you. He adores you. He worships you.
You love Simon. You adore Simon. You worship Simon.
That’s one thing you two have in common.
The other thing is that you two hate your own bodies.
You hate the fat on your belly and the fat of thighs that make every jeans you wear too tight. You hate how slabby your arms are when you wave at someone and wear a t-shirt. You hate the stretch mark on your stomach and under your arms, around your thighs. You hate the little double chin you’ve gotten over the years and can’t get rid off, no matter how hard you try.
Simon on the other hand hates how rough his body is, how firm and hard. He hates the scars all his years in the military had left behind. He hates how there is always a reminder of a bad past, one where you didn’t have a place just yet. He hates how calloused his hands are, from years of punching people or holding weapons. He hates that no matter how hard he tries, he always is a bit too rough, never too much to hurt you, but it’s not easy to relax.
So one of these days, your parents invited you and Simon over for brunch and you agreed to go. But now you’re standing before the full body mirror and stare at the tight shirt you chose to wear, you swore the last time you had it on it wasn’t like this. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as you squeeze the pouch of fat on your belly.
That’s when Simon walks inside. He’s dressed casually, jeans and shirt. He looks good, handsome. But as always he hides most of his body behind long sleeves and pants.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers into your head, wrapping his arms around your waist to take your hands away from the small pouch. “You’re gorgeous, sweet, sexy. There are a million words I could say to describe you, but they won’t be enough. You’re perfect, the way you are.” Simon says softly, looking into your eyes through the reflection of the mirror.
You believe him.
Because you might hate yourself but you love Simon.
Simon is the same. He believes you when he stands at the sink and looks at his scarred hands. Those hands aren’t made to love someone, they are made to kill and destroy. Those hands aren’t meant to touch someone as pure as you.
That’s when you walk into the bathroom. You see him, hate and disgust in his blue eyes.
You place your smaller hands on top of his before taking them and placing his hands on your cheeks. Smiling softly.
“Your hands are made to protect, you save not just me but many people. They are gentle and kind. You are gentle and kind. You aren’t a machine that’s made to kill. You are perfect, just as you are.”
And Simon believes you.
Because Simon might hate himself but he loves you.
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luveline · 9 months
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i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏
ty for ur request :D fem!reader
"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?" 
Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?" 
"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there." 
"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks." 
Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.
"That long?" you ask. 
Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them." 
"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise. 
Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.
"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases. 
Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending. 
"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?" 
You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence." 
"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.
You would've died. "Before I joined?" 
"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?" 
He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!" 
Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds." 
He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves. 
"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee. 
You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks. 
"I'm okay. Headache," you lie. 
Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you." 
Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding. 
"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?" 
"Yeah?" you choke out. 
"You look really nice today, too." 
Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses. 
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he gives great gifts
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Price/Reader - TW: remote vibrator, minor female ejaculation
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“Hey, love, I’m home,” Price’s voice called out to you, summoning you to the front door. 
He was carrying all of your packages and mail, along with his rucksack, home for the weekend. You took the mail, helping him leave the worries of the day at the door to join you in the kitchen. You were making his favorite, chicken spaghetti, and you just started the oven. 
Your captain sat at the island counter, opening up the mail and sorting out the bills. He kissed you as you walked past him, his mustache tickling your lip and cheek
“Mm,” he moaned, “How was your day?”
“Good,” you smiled, flirting with him, “Missed you, though. How was yours? Any news from Laswell?”
“No, not yet. Still waiting on the intel. Oh, hey, it came!” He lit up, tearing into a small package with his knife.
“What’s that?” You asked over your shoulder, bending to put the chicken in the oven. 
“Bought you an early birthday present. Come see,” he was holding a black box, lifting the lid to reveal the prize inside. 
“John, I thought we said no gifts? What did you… oh, my God. Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” he smiled like he had just won a medal, prideful and obviously chuffed, “...and it has a remote.”
You were staring at a lime green, silicone dildo. It was shaped like a curved smile, one large end for insertion and the other smaller end to be nestled on top of your clit. 
“A remote?” You asked, taking out the toy and feeling its smoothness in your hands. It was lightweight, but very solid. It seemed expensive, well-crafted, and like John had spent way too much money on you, as usual.
It buzzed in your hands, coming alive with a low rumble. It shocked you, and you almost dropped it.
“Oh, my God!” You laughed, “What was that?”
He held up a matching lime green remote. It was small, like a car fob, and it had a few different buttons to choose from. Price’s face was full of mischief,
“Put it in, love.”
“I’m making dinner,” you protested, but you didn’t put it down. 
“So?” He whispered darkly, dragging your hips toward him, kissing you deeply, licking your mouth and leaving little love bites down the side of your neck.
You giggled, smiling sweetly. He made it so easy to give in to him. You sighed,
“Okay, okay. Help me put it in, honey.”
Price put the remote down and slid your pants down to your thighs, pulling your panties down with them. He took the toy from you and opened the little packet of lube that came in the pouch, coating the thick end. He hesitated, slipping his own finger into you first, finding you a little too wet and already turned on. 
He made a face, full of delighted surprise, teasing you,
“Someone’s excited, hm?”
Impatient, he slid the toy into you gently, fitting it at your entrance and pressing it up into you. He pulled it back out again and used it to fuck you for a few strokes, making you moan quietly, leaning forward to steady yourself on his huge forearm. 
“Mm,” he groaned, “You like that, love?”
“Yeah,” you gasped.
He settled it all the way in and made sure the front was in the right place before replacing your panties and your leggings back up around your waist. You kissed him again, and went back into the kitchen to finish up with dinner. 
The excitement of knowing he could control your pleasure was building inside of you. You didn’t see the remote on the countertop, and he was busy recycling the boxes, so you thought you were safe. You leaned down again to check the chicken, and then you almost came out of your skin as the toy came alive inside of you. 
Price was unbothered, pouring a few fingers of whisky into his glass, innocently. He saw you looking at him and smiled knowingly, taking a long swig of the amber liquid into his mouth. You glared, but you needed to put the pasta on to boil. So, you turned back around to grab a pot. 
Inside of you, the toy buzzed, low and rumbling, shaking your clit and rattling against your g-spot in tandem, freezing you in place, riding out the waves of sensation. You struggled to bring yourself back to your task, but you wanted to play along, so you brought the pot over to the sink, panting, trying to work through the blinding pleasure, filling the pot with warm water. You had a few seconds to wait for it to reach the top, so you closed your eyes, reveling in the vibrations. 
You let out a moan, eyes still wrenched shut, hands on either side of the sink. 
“Um, love?” Price interrupted your lust, pointing to the pot which was now overflowing.
“Oh, shit,” you turned off the tap, and managed to pour out some of the water without too much trouble.
However, as you turned to walk it back over to the stove, he turned up the intensity. There was now some sort of… rotation… happening inside of you. It honestly felt like you were being fucked, like a cock was thrusting up into you, punishing your core. You stopped in your tracks, gripping the heavy pot for dear life, moaning in full volume. 
“John!”
Everything stopped. You gasped, your eyes flitting to him immediately. The captain was grinning from ear to ear, drinking his whisky and enjoying the show. He chuckled,
“What is it? You alright?” 
You laughed in short, panting breaths, rolled your eyes at him, and put the pot down to open the pantry for the spaghetti. When you reached for the door handle, the sensations were back, sending bolts of pleasure through your pussy, making your panties damp as you gushed out around the unrelenting dildo. You grabbed the handle tighter, steadying yourself against the frame of the door, resting your body against it, keening like a paid whore. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, inches away from coming, it stopped again. 
“John Price,” you turned toward him, eyes wild, “You did not just - ”
“I’m starving,” he said casually, not even looking in your direction, pretending to scroll through his phone, “Think you’ll have dinner ready soon, love?”
You groaned, opening the door and reaching for the pasta boxes, waiting for him to click the button again. 
There was nothing. 
You waited in the pantry a little longer, baiting him.
Nothing. Not even a little jiggle. 
You barged out of the pantry, and as soon as he saw you, you were sent to your knees. He’d turned whatever setting it was all the way up. You dropped the pasta boxes, crawling on the floor of the kitchen like an animal, screaming out lurid cries and feeling your thighs tremble from the onslaught. 
“Did you think I would let you hide in there where I couldn’t see you?” His question was delivered with cold cruelty. He had left his seat and was now standing over you, remote in hand, watching you suffer at his feet. You begged for mercy,
“Baby, please, God… I need… oh, fuck!”
“Pick up the pasta. Now,” He commanded you, his voice loud and oppressive.
“John, please,” you clutched at the leg of his jeans, feeling like you were coming in waves and waves and waves. 
He reached down with his empty hand and grabbed you by the hair at the base of your skull, forcing you to look up at him, 
“I said: Pick. Up. The. Pasta.”
“Okay, okay…” You were trying to breathe. You let go of his pant leg and reached for the boxes, feeling your pussy clench around the toy as it fucked the life out of you. 
Your hands were shaking. The dry spaghetti made the sound of cheap maracas, clattering out of the box and splashing in the boiling water. You tried to open the second box, and you couldn’t. Your hands weren’t following your commands.
Price’s eyes bore into you as he stood next to you, watching you come apart under his control. Very casually, he took the box from you, opened it, and handed it back to you. He was breathing hard, as if he, too, was being subjected to the same sensations. 
Unable to stop yourself, you looked down at his cock. It was pressing against his pants, making a perfect outline of itself, hard as a stone. He caught you looking and palmed himself over the top of the fabric, squeezing the head to relieve some of the tension. 
You were practically drooling for him. But, you went back to the meal, putting the other box of pasta in as gently as you could. The way that this toy was fucking you almost reminded you of having John’s fingers in you while he sucked on your clit. The vibrations and steady rocking movements brought you to completion in a way where you couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the other began. 
As you turned your back to face Price, he moved toward you, pulling you away from the stove and shoving you up against the countertop. He snaked his hand between your legs and pushed up on the toy, forcing it to fuck you deeper than normally possible, shoving it in you mercilessly. 
“John, I’m going to come, please!”
You came, but it was unique. You felt like you were wetting yourself, coming so hard that fluid was squirting out of you, soaking your panties and leggings, along with John’s invasive hand. 
“Mm, fuck,” he growled in your ear, “Did you just squirt for me? Bloody fucking hell.”
“I don’t…” you couldn’t form coherent thoughts, “I dunno. John, help me, please…”
“Sweet girl, do you need this cock?” he pulled your bottoms down, trapping your knees with them, and held you up by your waist. He turned off the vibrator and tugged it out of you gently. You were so slick that it slid out of you without much resistance. Your pussy was throbbing, flooded with come, and desperate for a familiar sort of relief. 
“Yes, please, God,” you begged, tears in the corners of your eyes. 
“Alright, love,” he let you feel his hot head at your pulsating entrance, ready to sink into you, “It’s alright, I'm here now.”
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