it's your disgusting body. even through your sleep, you feel a vague discomfort diffusing it. your belly and your sides are unpleasantly tender. you wish that you could curl up into a fetal ball of safety, but you cannot — because of the PAIN.
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“𝒎𝒎𝒉,” an agreeable hum, palm dragging over his chin at the thought: tight corseting, lace and leather, maybe some latex, if she’s amenable to the drag of his hands polishing curves. a gaggle of cackling performers spill out the »
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𝑖𝗍 almost like he stopped breathing for a second、Lyla rolled her eyes when she finally put the papers down properly. Hand now gently holding onto the device、the sound of bass just vibrating softly at the back and the sound
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the line crackles with the sound of crumpling paper, and ellis doesn’t bother hiding his exhale of relief. “𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮,” he starts, voice reedy. shifting the phone to a more comfortable angle, pinned pupils scanning the chaotic »
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𝑏𝗒 the third ring the stack of files on her hand fell onto the floor、taking her phone and she squeezed it between her shoulder and ear.
“I’m sending the file to you right now.” she crouched down on the other end of
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punching @LYLABYTE’s number unto cellular, foot tap—tap—tapping an impatient metronome as it rings. the third vibration against his ear is officially two too many. for fuck’s sake, pick up.
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and I think about what it would be like to see your face cut open. what it would be like to see your body cut open. what it would be like to see my body cut open. what it would be like to see my body dissected.