#if you need more time to gif draw write then so be it

[lyingindecay]

Trust

[The Ghoul x Fem!Chubby!Reader]

Summary: Cooper finds out you're a virgin and helps you out. Warnings: NS//FW, MINORS DNI, Vaginal Fingering, Oral (f! receiving), pet names (sweetheart, darling), Soft!Cooper (because i said so), slightly insecure!reader, plus size reader, p in v, first time sex, potentially established relationship (you can read it however you want), no protection, creampie (don't worry, you have radaway), not proofread (im friendless) Word Count: 2.6k A/N: I just jumped into this, it wasn't even supposed to be this long... also please go easy on me, I'm still watching the show since I've been busy. And haven't written actual smut in months... SIDENOTE, i'm plus size/chubby so that's what I always envision when writing, but this is explicitly written with that in mind! Thanks, hope you enjoy!!

“C’mon, darlin’,” Cooper drawls out. His gloved hands roam up your arms, his lips are pressed to your neck. “I can feel your heartbeat…” His lips stop on your pulse. You can feel your heart pounding into your rib cage.

“Cooper?” You’re breathless, really. In a good way. But, fear comes creeping in. Cooper hums, telling you he’s listening. “I’m a virgin.” You are tense.

Cooper’s brow ridges knit together. He smiles against your skin. You feel it. He pulls away and his head drops to the side, his eyes watching you closely. You feel so… Small compared to him at the moment. Your anxiety is spiking. You breath hitches and Cooper’s smile fades.

“Sweetheart,” Cooper lets go of you, but he doesn’t back up. “We can wait, if ya aren’t ready.”

“I trust you.” You try to calm yourself. You do trust him, deeply and sincerely. You trust him more than anything. More than anyone else.

“But?” Cooper gives you a playful grin.

“What do you mean?” You cock your head.

“There’s always a but, doll. You trust me, but something else is wrong.” He states it like it’s obvious.

“Oh.” You bite the inside of your lip, nearly drawing blood. You suck in air, harshly, and fidget in your spot. “Uh, I don’t like how I look…”

Cooper’s eyes widen as you speak. He is shocked. Completely and utterly shocked. “Darlin’… You are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Cooper’s hands stay at his side, but you can tell he wants to touch you, guide you… Ruin you. “We don’ have t’ do this right now,” He reassures, “or ever- But, if ya want-” Cooper leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “-I can show ya how beautiful I think you are.”

You swallow hard. “Oh?” You sound surprised. You nod. “I would like that.” You whisper, not breaking eye contact.

Cooper smirks, “Name the time and place, sweetheart-”

“Here and now.” You spit it out without thinking.

“You sure?” He hesitates to touch you again. “A hundred percent?” You nod. Cooper smiles and pulls you into a kiss. Your lips press to his eagerly and you grab onto his duster, holding onto it like a lifeline. Cooper’s lips trail down your neck and rest on your pulse again. “You really want this? I don’ need ya doin’ this just because-”

“Shut up and kiss me again.” You whine. “Please.”

Cooper does not hesitate. His lips hit yours and you kiss back eagerly. Cooper’s gloved hands roam down your sides and they rest on your hips. Your arms wrap around his neck and settle there. You are still slightly stiff, anxiety not completely subsided. Cooper makes it his goal to help relax you.

“Y’know,” he hums against your jawline, “I didn' know you could be… bratty.” You hum in return, in confusion. “You told me to shut up, darlin’.”

“I needed you to kiss me…” your eyes are shut, head lolled back.

“Oh, you needed it?” He teases. “That bad, huh?”

You whine again, from embarrassment and pleasure. “Yeah, I need you.” You state it, no questioning and somehow very confidently.

“And I need ya to look at me with demands like that.” He smirks at you. You look at him and pout. “It ain't hard, sweetie. Promise.”

You groan. Your eyes lock with his, and your face heats up, exponentially so. “I need you, Cooper. I need you to touch me, kiss me… fuck me.” You immediately cover your face. Cooper laughs. His hand reaches for yours and pulls it down, showing your face to him again.

“Darlin’, I ain't gonna hurt ya. No need to be all shy.” He kisses your jawline, up to your ear. “Now,” he whispers in your ear, “how do you need me, exactly?”

“I already stated that!”

“No, no,” Cooper nibbles your earlobe. “In detail. And look at me this time.” He pulls away from your ear and looks at you again, closer to you this time. “How do you need me?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I need you to touch me- I don't care where, or how. Please, I wanna feel your hands on my skin.”

“Atta girl,” Cooper begins to take his gloves off. “Wasn't so hard, was it?” You roll your eyes. Cooper freezes. “Did you jus-” he squints at you, before smiling. “You are a brat.”

You want to rip your hair out. “Please, Cooper. I wanna feel good…”

He removes his gloves completely. His hands touch your clothed stomach, moving to your waist. Your heart is racing again. His hands scoot down to the hem of your shirt and you don't break eye contact with him. “It's okay,” your voice is so soft, “I still trust you.”

Cooper nods. You help him get you out of your shirt. You're standing there now, just in your pants, wondering what led you to this situation. You're thankful; thankful or whatever force brought you to Cooper. His bare hands grab for your soft stomach, tracing over the stretch marks. You suck in air through your nose and look away from Cooper.

“I need you to keep your eyes on me,” Cooper moves a hand to your chin and redirects your eyes back to him. “Need to know I'm makin’ ya feel good.” You nod. “Good girl.” Cooper begins to lead you towards the bed and sits you down on the edge of it. “Now, mind if I take these off?” Cooper motions towards your pants. You shake your head and when he grabs your waistband you begin to shimmy out of them.

The cool air hits your bare legs and Cooper crouches in front of you. You instinctively shut your legs together and gasp when Cooper's hands grab at your thick thighs. He doesn't pull your legs apart, not immediately. He watches you, examining your current expression, before continuing.

“Still okay?” He questions you. As soon as you nod, he gently pulls at your legs and you relax. He positions himself between your thighs and begins kissing your skin. One of his hands moves towards your panties. He rubs a stripe up your clothes pussy and you bite back a moan. Cooper pulls away from your thigh and looks at you. “Already so wet…”

“All for you. Only for you.” You mumble. Cooper gives you a hungry look. Your stomach flips. He's grabbing at the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your legs in no time. The look in his eyes is something you're sure you've never seen before. Your skin is on fire and you do not want him to stop touching you. Or staring at you that way.

Cool air hits your newly exposed skin and you shiver. Cooper's fingers dance across your thighs. “You positive this is what ya want?” You nod again, giving an enthusiastic yes. “If you need me to stop at any time, tell me.”

“Of course.” You nod and lean back slightly, getting more comfortable on the bed. Your fists automatically ball the sheets up, and Cooper lets out a low laugh. “What?”

“This is gonna be fun.” He says it like you're supposed to know what he means. You cock a brow at him. “You're so soft an’ sweet. I can assure you,” He smiles against your thigh, one of his fingers pushing inside of you, “after this, you won't want any other man or ghoul.”

And, God, do you know he’s right. His finger curls inside of you and your hips buck slightly. Cooper smiles against your thigh. Your eyes are stuck on him. Your chest is heaving already. Cooper’s thumb hits your clit and you gasp.

“Ever touch yourself, sweetheart?” Cooper asks against your thigh. When you give a shy nod, Cooper chuckles. “Bet it never felt this good, did it?” You shake your head. Cooper pulls his hand away from you and you tense at the warmth leaving you. “I’m assumin’ ya’ve never never been tasted, hm?” You want to hide, you shake your head again. “Gonna make ya feel so good,” Cooper promises. You know it’s a promise.

Cooper dives in, his tongue pushes into you and licks up your pussy. He groans as he tastes you. His hands grip your hips tighter and you wince. Cooper mumbles something into you about how good you taste and your hips roll. He holds you still. You let out a whine and beg for me. And who is Cooper to deny you of that?

His tongue swirls around your clit and, this time, two fingers push into you. Your palms dig into the bed sheets in your fists and you let out a soft cry from pleasure. Cooper hums against you and fire is building in your core. You go to roll your hips again and Cooper holds you down, hips pinned to the bed. His finger curls up and pumps in and out of you. You are immediately sent over the edge.

“Ah!” You moan, your voice breaking, “Cooper- I’m-”

Cooper pulls away, his fingers staying inside of you. “I know,” His voice is gruff as he places a kiss on your thigh. “I got ya,” His fingers pull from you and they circle your swollen bud, and your entire body is taught, every muscle tense. Your orgasm hits hard.

Your body relaxes onto the sheets and your entire world is still spinning. You are seeing stars. “Cooper-” You whimper. “Fuck-” Your fingers uncurl from your palm and drop the sheets. Cooper is smiling at you. He’s smug.

“I know, darlin’, it’s a lot.” He crawls on top of you.

“S’not fair,” You mumble, you look up at him. He cocks a brow ridge. “You’re completely dressed, an’ I'm not.” You huff.

“We can change that.” Cooper places a rough kiss against your lips, before sitting up and standing. You watch as he undresses, quickly. He’s ready to get this show on the road. Your stomach flips when he’s fully naked. Your eyes widen and Cooper notices.

“Hey,” He reassures you, “I gotcha. I know this is a lot, all of this; but I’m gonna make sure you feel good.” You nod, swallowing hard. “Do you need to stop?” Cooper asks.

“No, no,” you put a hand up, “I want this, I need you.”

That seems to trigger something in Cooper. He stalks towards you and you’re frozen on the motel bed. You’re watching him closely as he positions himself over you. He holds himself steady above you, one hand on your hip and the other right beside your head. He leans down and kisses you, not as rough as he has been, but still not very gentle. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him close to you. His dick is resting against your stomach in that position. Your skin burns and you ache for him.

He pulls back and begins to kiss down to your collarbone. “Cooper,” You sound as breathless as you had earlier, maybe even more so. His free hand dips from your waist and to your dripping cunt once again. He pushes two fingers in you and smirks against your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“I think you’re ready, darlin’.” Cooper places his forehead to yours and his eyes lock with yours. “Are you ready?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling up at him. Cooper grabs your leg and brings it up to his hip. He angles himself at your entrance and you prepare yourself. You pull him closer to you and Cooper gently pushes into you. His hips roll slightly as he settles for a second and you adjust to the new found sensation. Cooper lets out a low groan, but keeps himself still for you. Until you are ready for more.

“Please,” You whine. Your hips ever so slightly buck upwards. “Please move.”

Cooper does as you ask. How could he not? “Let me know if it’s all too much.” He speaks through gritted teeth, seemingly holding himself back from absolutely wrecking you. You quickly nod, quietly mumbling and begging for more. Cooper slightly picks up his pace, but not too much. You look so breakable beneath him. He does not want to hurt you.

Cooper lets out low huffs and groans as his hips roll into yours. You grab at his scarred back and cry out in pleasure. Your half lidded eyes hit Cooper’s and you moan, loudly. The sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the motel room.

“You think-” You moan again, “You think Lucy can hear us?” You are embarrassed at the thought of someone hearing the both of you. Especially your wasteland companion.

“Fuck-” Cooper slams into you a little more harsh than you had expected, causing you to cry out again. “I don’t care.”

Your head rolls back before you can argue with him, your eyes screwing shut. You feel tears brimming your eyes. You’re a moaning mess under Cooper. “Harder-” You almost choke on the word. “Fuck me harder.” Your voice is sharp, and a little louder than before.

“O’ course sweetheart,” Cooper grips the sheet beside your head and your leg wraps around his waist a little tighter. Cooper looks wild as his hips slam into yours. Everytime he pulls back your hips chase his.

“I’m gonna- I’m close-” You’re almost crying.

Cooper’s grip moves from your thigh and to your ass, grabbing it hard. You gasp. The same heat from earlier is coming back. Your body is tensing and your toes curl up. You are saying nothing but a string of ‘Cooper’, ‘shit’, and ‘fuck’. Thoughts aren’t forming. You are okay with that if it means feeling this good.

Cooper focuses on you. Each thrust seems to go deeper and your mind is blank. Your breathing is fast and ragged. Your chest is heaving up and down. You clench around Cooper and come undone. Cooper slows down, but does not stop.

“Where?” Cooper growls against your neck.

“Inside.” It’s the first thing you think of, forgetting he’s a ghoul.

Cooper doesn’t seem to think much about it either as his thrusts become sloppy. A low groan escapes Cooper, his thrusts speeding up before he orgasms himself. You feel him cum inside of you. You lie on the bed under him, catching your breath, as he falls on top of you. He’s still inside.

“Cooper?” Your voice is almost hoarse. Cooper doesn’t move, but he gives a soft ‘hm’. “I might need my RadAway.” You laugh a little bit. Cooper sits up and hurries towards your bag. He pulls out the RadAway and brings it back to you. You lazily take it and lay back on the bed. You pat beside you and Cooper narrows his eyes. “What now?” You huff.

“How much of that you got?” He points to the RadAway.

You shrug. “Why?” You ask, really having no clue.

“Well, the night’s young, sweetheart. And I ain’t done if you ain’t.” You light up. “I have a lot I could show ya.”

You are excited all over again. “Relax with me a minute,” you bat your eyelashes at him, “and then, I promise, I’m all yours til the break of dawn.” That’s all Cooper needs to hear. He lied down beside you and begins to kiss your neck. “What are you doing?”

“Helpin’ you relax.” He states, as if it’s so obvious. “And gettin’ you ready for round two.”

You laugh. “Okay, whatever,” You playfully roll your eyes.

“We’re gonna have to handle that.” Cooper grips your hip. “You bein’ a brat and all.” Cooper nips at your neck, you let out a gasp. “I think I know just how to do that, too.” He smiles against you. “And we have all night to find out.”

#fallout #fallout smut #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout imagine #fallout tv series #x reader

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ cw. none, fluff, established relationship, reader wears a sundress <3, fem! reader

picking grapes with diluc, but you rather admire what's yours.

you sit underneath a large tree, straightening your sundress as your eyes ardently dance along your boyfriend's movements.

the pearly sound of ice cubes floating in your refreshing drink whistles as you take a sip, eyes curious, mind wandering. you find yourself holding your breath at the sight of him, or his well-toned back muscles bulging from beneath his shirt.

diluc brushes away a feeble lace of sweat on his forehead as his tailored shirt moves with the tension in his limbs. it fit him perfectly, and such you could easily discern by the amount of muscles showing underneath the fabric.

a chorus of birds chirp a love song and write your love in the sunlight.

there was no pain or poison in the air— by this tension and heat, you could pour the air and call it syrup, a love liquid.

each one of your exhales tensely draw together when you continue to watch him, a cold breeze drifting through the thin fabric of your dress.

diluc walks towards a brown basket full of grapes as he picks it up easily, as if he didn't even consider it being heavy— and his corded muscles ripple when he lifts it to a different spot that wouldn't bother him during his work.

the atmosphere too was warm, comfort battering like butterflies in the air as the small area you were resting in was located in an idyllic corner of the winery, undisturbed by others and almost completely quiet.

your feet sink slightly into the grass and a shiver kisses along your spine as diluc's footsteps contract the same time your own heart leaps.

he kneels in front of you, "you done watching me?"

ah, of course he noticed.

he smiles, extending his hand towards the frill hem of your sundress before planing his rough knuckles over your collarbones gently.

just looking at you.

but his eyes, deep of love and kind, swing and clamor in vehemence, revealing strong emotions.

you exhale softly at his touch and hum when he smoothes his knuckles over your skin so cautiously, not to hurt or pain you, as if you'd break if he dare to apply more pressure.

it was enough to make your heart leap in your chest, your eyes like molasses overflowed.

you cough out, placing your drink aside shakily, "you see, i was just admiring what's mine,"

you answer cheekily, your heels drawn back as your thighs open a little— not too much, of course, adelinde must be near, but his lashes flutter infrequently upon gazing at your bare legs.

that he has kissed so many times already.

"that makes us two then," he admits without breaking his stare on your thighs, dancing over the way this dress fits your frame.

as to punctuate the meaning of his words further, diluc slowly leans forward in need to kiss you, kiss your lips and leave you panting.

here, on a glittering array of blossoming flowers and sweet scents, one hand cradles your cheek softly before he tilts it, his thumb carefully stroking over your bottom lip when he melts himself into you ever so tenderly.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

[virginsexgod69]

Hi!! I love ur work for Daryl. I was wondering if you could write a daryl dixon oneshot where maybe him and the reader find an abandoned tattoo parlor while out on a supply run and reader gives him a tattoo and eventually that leads to smut! 🩷

❝ Inked ❞

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

cw established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, pet names, pussy eating, needles (for tattoos), idk how to do tattoos so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies

note omg i had a jolly good time writing this! tysm for the request =] i did lowkey tweak it slightly, but nothing major, i pinky promise

2.1k words

“I don’t think there’s anything else we can get outta this place,” you commented as you placed the only can- a can of cranberry sauce from who knows how long ago- into your backpack. You looked around, only seeing more bare shelves and Daryl. You smiled, a natural reaction you had whenever you saw him. He wrapped his strong arm around your shoulder, pulling you close before placing a kiss to your hairline. 

“We should take a look a’ these other stores ‘fore we start headin’ back,” he suggested as he guided you out the store, arm still wrapped snugly around you. You nodded your head in silent agreement, following beside him. It was hard to tell what most of the other buildings were since they were all dirty with broken or boarded up windows, but one in particular caught your eye. 

“Hey, look! A tattoo shop,” you pointed at the building, “Let’s go check it out!” You hurried toward it, semi-dragging Daryl with you. 

“The hell we gonna find at a tattoo shop?” He asked, seeming genuinely confused at why the hell you’d wanna go. 

“Hopefully more than some nasty ass canned cranberry sauce.” He couldn’t disagree with you there, so he fell in line with your fast paced steps toward the shop. 

 You both entered the shop with knives drawn in case any walkers decided to stumble out of the shadows. Nothing came when the two of you made noise in an attempt to draw them out, so you sheathed your knife and went all the way inside, Daryl in tow. The shop was small, which allowed the sunlight shining through the window to fill it. The walls were covered in framed pictures of tattoo designs, although they were covered in dust. The shop itself was in fairly good shape, considering. You and Daryl split off in different directions in search of anything that could be brought back to the prison. You couldn’t find anything that wasn’t tattoo related, which wasn’t surprising since this was a tattoo shop. What you did find, though, was a lot more exciting. Everything that you would need to do a tattoo was all there, right in front of you. 

“Find anything?” Daryl asked once he found you again. 

“Yes and no?” 

“Wha’s that s’pose to mean?” He asked. 

“There’s still everything here to do tattoos with, isn’t that cool?” 

“We gon’ get matchin' tattoos or somethin’? He teased. 

"Not a bad idea, Dixon," you mused. You patted the seat and he sat down after setting aside his crossbow and got comfortable. You thought about what to put on him. You had so many ideas that you may as well have had none. 

"Wha's goin' on in there?" he asked. It was something that he'd say whenever he noticed you deep in thought. 

"I don't even know what to put on ya," you admitted as you traced lazy lines on his bare arm with your finger, "or where to put it."  Your face brightened when an idea finally passed through your head. You grabbed his arm and turned his hand to face upward before wiping a spot on his wrist clean with the alcohol wipe you got lucky enough to find. You unpackaged a needle before dipping it into the ink cap. Since there wasn't any power, you'd have to do a stick and poke. You were vaguely familiar with them from a time of experimentation during your teen years. With your non-dominant hand, you stretched his skin before getting to work on your design. You could feel Daryl trying to take a peek at what you were doing, but you purposely blocked his view with your head each time. You worked slowly and carefully, doing your best to make something cute despite not even being an amateur. 

“Okay, you can look now,” you muttered timidly as you handed him back his arm. You weren’t sure if he’d like it or not and were starting to regret not finding a pen and making a sketch to run by him for approval first. But, it was too late now and all you could do was hope for the best. He brought his wrist closer to his face to get a better look. It was simple, a small love heart with his first initial plus yours. It looked like something a girl would doodle in her notebook while daydreaming about her crush. 

“S’cute,” he said as he admired the tattoo with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, filled with all the love and adoration in the world. “I love it.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “You wanna gimme a matching one?” You joked, referencing his earlier comment. He glanced out the window, the sun was setting and it was likely you and him would have to spend the night here if he and you stayed for one more tattoo. Some privacy with you, alone, away from everyone at the prison sounded like heaven, and matching tattoos were a bonus. 

“Sure.” He got out of the seat and you got in. 

“You wan’ it in the same place?” 

You thought about it for a second. “I want it somewhere special, in a place for only you to see.” The rosy tint that blossomed on his cheeks wasn’t missed by you. You found it endearing how he sometimes grew flustered at your flirtation, despite it being nothing new. 

“Yeah? Where’s that?” He asked. 

“I dunno, Daryl. You pick,” you insisted with a smug look upon your face. He made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and you lifted your hips to assist him in pulling them down all the way to your ankles. He stepped away and grabbed a new needle and ink. With another alcohol wipe, he cleaned a spot on your inner thigh before comfortably situating himself on his knees between your legs. You felt the small, frequent pokes of the needle as he got to work on the tattoo. Seeing him on his knees between your thighs made your stomach flutter. You knew that was his favorite place to be and having the tattoo there seemed like he was marking it as his own. As he was working, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, eliciting a whine from you. He paused his work and glanced up at you, struggling to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. You avoided his eye and he got back to work, but his hand bumped your clit more often. Each time left you desperate for more. You so badly wanted to close your legs and rub your thighs together or reach down and get yourself off, but you had to stay still. His hand brushed against you once more, causing you to squirm a little. 

“Keep still.” 

You glared down at him. “I’m trying to, but you keep-” He did it again and this time you were one hundred percent sure it was on purpose. Grumbling under your breath, you leaned back against the seat and did your best to keep still as he finished up. Once he was done, he wiped off the excess ink. 

“We should probably secure the place since we’re gonna be spendin’ the night here,” he suggested. 

“But Daryl,” you whined, “you can’t just leave me like this. You knew what you were doing earlier!” 

"Wha? Givin' you a tattoo?" You huffed and rolled your eyes and reached down to pull your pants back up, but he stopped you. 

"I'm jus' playin' darlin'. Sit back." He gently pushed you back into the chair before getting back on his knees. Slowly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles with your formerly discarded pants and yanked them both off over your shoes. He firmly gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat and placed your legs over his shoulders. Feeling his hot tongue lick up and down your soaked slit had you gripping the arm rests for support. With his thumb, he rubbed slow, teasing circles on your hard clit. His tongue was a welcome intrusion in your soaked entrance. You gasped and moaned out his name and your hands flew to his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his soft locks. This motivated him to rub faster circles on your clit, earning more gasps and moans from you. His tongue thrusted in and out of your dripping cunt as he tasted all of your juices, refusing to let any go to waste. You tugged his hair as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head and he moaned unexpectedly, the vibrations from it bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around the pink muscle as he focused it on that one spot that always did things to you. 

"Daryl, please! I'm so close," you whined, desperate for him to bring you to your orgasm. If he weren't trapped between your plush thighs, he would've talked you through it, but instead he moved his lips to your clit and started sucking on it while prodding the bud with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut as the white hot waves of pleasure overtook your body. Daryl worked faster once he felt you tense up and your thighs convulsing around his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair as your toes curled. You could the vibration of his pleasured grunts against your soft flesh. 

"I'm gonna-" your back arched and head fell back as he pushed you over the edge, immersing you in a world of pleasure. He continued to lap at your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. Once you came down from that high, you relaxed and slumped against the chair. Daryl reluctantly freed himself from between your thighs since he needed to catch his breath again. His dick was straining against his pants with how hard he was just from hearing your sounds of pleasure and tasting your pretty pussy. And now, just seeing your fucked out face made him want to cum in his pants. 

 In one quick swipe, he cleared a nearby table of all its supplies. He picked you up from the chair with ease, tossing you over his shoulder before gently laying you onto the table. He made quick work of freeing his erection from his pants and stroked it a few times, causing precum to bubble up on the angry red tip. He lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds teasingly. 

"So wet fer me, baby," he groaned as he lined himself up with your needy hole. You wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate for him to fill you up. Your body welcomed him as he slid in easily. 

"Yer takin' me so good, sunshine." He leaned down and connected his lips with yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His tongue danced with yours as you kissed each other passionately. Large, rough hands palmed at your clothed tits as he started thrusting into you. Frustrated with your shirt, he hurriedly pulled it over your head before attaching his lips to your neck, roughly sucking and biting your skin. His tongue slid over your carotid artery, feeling how fast your heart was beating. You clumsily tugged at his shirt and vest, a silent plea for him to take them off, which he did. When he was with you, his insecurities were non existent. You tightly gripped his shoulders, nails digging hollow indents into his skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts. 

"Feel so good," you slurred. He kissed open mouthed kisses down your body, occasionally leaving marks in his wake. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, your second orgasm approaching fast. He was close too, you could feel it in the way  his cock twitched inside you and his pace became slower snd less rhythmic. 

"I'm boutta cum, baby," he groaned. You wanted to tell him you were, too, but your mind was a jumbled mess that was drunk off his cock. When your second orgasm came, your walls tightly hugged his shaft, squeezing him closer to his own climax. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself the rest of the way. His mouth fell open and eyes rolled back as he shot white hot ropes of cum all over your naked body. 

 He collapsed into a nearby chair, panting for air. You slid off the table and joined him in the chair by sitting on his lap. Both your bodies were coated in the thin sheen of sweat as you held each other close as exhaustion took over your bodies. 

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[muxshwriting]

my love, my life

Violet Bridgerton x daughter!reader, Bridgerton!reader

summary: Violet and her youngest, Y/N were mirror image. when you debut and fall in love, she faces the reality of letting you go || warnings: growing up, nostalgia, crying sessions when writing this|| word count: 715 || masterlist

Violet Bridgerton had nine children, four boys and five girls. Her youngest two, Hyacinth and Y/N, had surprised her by being twins. Neither of them would ever meet their father and Violet held them closer to her because of that fact. As a child, Hyacinth wanted to discover everything, see the whole house and the gardens and sometimes beyond. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content to curl up on your mother’s lap as she stitched, watching her work.

If anyone ever asked, Violet Bridgerton did not have a favourite child. She loved all her children equally was equally saddened when they, in turn, flew from the nest. But secretly, you were her favourite child, always willing to help your Mama and wanting to spend time with her. You were always content, never causing a fuss or making trouble for her to fix, unlike all your other siblings.

When you debut, you remain by your mother’s side, wary of this new experience. You spend your first season testing the waters of romance, charming suitors but not being interested in any fully. It’s on,y in your second year that you find yourself truly charmed.

Lord William Harding comes from a respectable and wealthy family but most importantly, he understands you. He will gladly spend an afternoon strolling through the park together, not saying a lot but occasionally pointing out something and telling a joke. He makes you feel warm and safe and that’s all you can ask for. It’s starts slowly until you realise that you crave his warming silence and his gentle conversation.

“I think I love him Mama.” The confession came as you were lying across your mother’s lap in the drawing room. Your book had been abandoned and Mama put down her embroidery to look at you.

“You think or you know?”

You meet her gaze, suddenly worried at the realisation. “I love him.”

Violet simply laughs at your concern. “Relax, my love. You have nothing to fear. I see how he looks at you.”

“What does that mean?”

“He loves you.” She says. “Whether he realises yet or not, he adores you.”

“Are you sure?”

Violet simply raises an eyebrow and smiles knowingly, continuing with her embroidery.

Your mother is all-knowing, especially after watching most of her children marry. William continues to court you, constantly looking at you with adoration. You confess your love to him as you dance together at your mother’s ball towards the end of the season and he reciprocates fully, imagining your future together and planning everything. Unbeknownst to you, he calls on your brother the very next day to ask for your hand in marriage. Anthony is well aware of your feelings towards William and gives his blessing willingly.

The time flies through your engagement until you're standing in front of your mother on your wedding day. You can't stop the tears gathering in your eyes as you look at her, knowing this is the final hurdle of your girlhood. Violet grasps your hands tightly in hers and pulls you close.

"You'll always be my daughter, no matter where you are."

"Mama-"

"It's alright to be afraid, it's alright to be unsure. That's love and life."

You dry your tears. "I want this so badly yet I am terrified of leaving you behind."

"I am not left behind." Violet says, convincing you more than she convinces herself. In truth, she is afraid of being left behind. All her children are now married, all will begin families of their own and she'll be reduced to the grandmother who is visited when it's convenient. It's only life, everyone grows up and grows away from their roots.

"I'll always need you." You promise her. Mama hugs you tightly once more before shooing you towards Anthony who was waiting for you by the entrance to the chapel. This was the end of your childhood, walking down the aisle on your brothers arm watching your mother follow behind you. He passing you to William and you find yourself perfectly at ease next to him.

"Take care of her."

"I swear to everything, I will."

Anthony nods once, taking his seat in the front row as the rest of your life begins.

In the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#violet bridgerton x daughter!reader #bridgerton!reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #muxsh #muxshwriting #my love my life

[dykealloy]

Rec list please ✍️🏻

(with tropes and just a smidge of reason why the media is recommended <- both very optional of course)

oh boy. okay. Confession time, I've watched a ridiculous number of shows out of east Asia so this is a good opportunity to share some faves from recent memory. If there's going to be one running through-line with these recs it's that I love character-driven narratives which explore interesting interpersonal relationships (socio-cultural commentary is a plus).

In no ranked order, here's my top ten:

Hamster running the emotional gamut wheel (well-written stories about grief, closure and family)

Move to Heaven (2021) Korea, 10 episodes, Netflix Summary: Han Geu-ru is an autistic 20-year-old who works for his father’s business “Move To Heaven”, a company that specializes in crime scene cleanup, where they collect and arrange items left by the deceased and deliver them to the bereaved family. When Geu-ru's father dies, his guardianship passes to his uncle, ex-convict and underground MMA fighter Cho Sang-gu. Per the father's will, Sang-gu must care for and work with Geu-ru for three months to gain full guardianship and claim the inheritance. Eying money, Sang-gu agrees to the conditions and moves in.

This show knows exactly what it is and executes with excellent writing and characterisation. While it does have an overarching narrative, Move to Heaven is structured so that you're exploring a different person's story each episode, so it has a lot of flexibility to explore themes of grief and closure through different lives and relationships, and when I tell you this show can hit emotional beats... (<- may or may not have cried through most episodes on my first watch-through. Emotional terrorism). These stories are really beautifully portrayed and though there are effective comedic beats, there's this clear authenticity in not needing to undercut or distance oneself from the vulnerability of the subject matter.

Geu-ru and his uncle (Sang-gu) add a lot of needed levity, with Geu-ru's need for consistent, structured, methodical routines constantly clashing with Sang-gu's chaotic and combative approach to life. Sang-gu's character arc (though predictable) is just so satisfying. It's kinda hilarious seeing Geu-ru (and his father by extension) inadvertently poke more and more holes in Sang-gu's initial plan of "take the money and run" the deeper he incorporates himself into the space and purpose that his brother once took up, and it's very heartwarming to see these polar opposites slowly develop a respect and appreciation for one another.

Tropes: reluctant to responsible parental figure, tear-jerker

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble (2023) Taiwan, 12 episodes, GTV and iQIYI Summary: Pu Yi-yong was a typical 17-year-old student with a passion for drawing and a hereditary talent for calligraphy. After he wakes up from a bus accident that claimed his father's life and left him in a coma for two years, a 19-year-old Yi-yong must now find his place in the world again. This becomes more complicated when spirits begin approaching him and asking for his help.

This show actually has a lot of similarities to Move to Heaven e.g. exploring different side-stories each episode, focus on victims forgotten by society (the lonely, the homeless, the outcasts and the minorities), themes of grief and closure, polar opposite characters learning to work together, breaking me emotionally at some point. But Oh No! Here Comes Trouble differs in tone (distinct directing style), quirky humour (Taiwanese comedic style is just different and I love it in this show) and presentation (urban fantasy/mystery).

Yi-yong might be one of my all time favourite characters in media. From the outset he presents as this classic, one-dimensional, grumpy delinquent teen (e.g. resting-bitch-face syndrome, scrappy mullet, academically behind, no social grace and a tendency to accidentally hit people in the face with softballs). As fun as that is, the more you watch, the more this show challenges these assumptions. Yi-yong's mum (also an A+ character, god I love her) is a hairdresser, and often uses Yi-yong as her stylistic guinea pig. Yi-yong's not super intelligent, but he's compassionate (albeit at times reluctantly so). He really listens when people talk to him, whether they're trying to comfort him, give him advice, or asking him for assistance (though he often questions and expresses frustrations about his own ability to help other people). There's a humble gentleness to him.

Yi-yong was already struggling to juggle his dreams of becoming a comic artist with the practicalities of his life before he fell into a coma, then he woke up two years later, having completely missed the perceived "pivotal juncture" associated with the transition from youth to adulthood. Time moved on, and so have his peers, leaving an almost 20-year-old Yi-yong lost at sea with no paddle, no map and grieving the loss of his father. And now he has supernatural beings approaching him and insisting that he is the key to settling their unfinished business. To Yi-yong (and to popular east-asian social standards), Yi-yong is a loser. He's academically unintelligent, has no clear aspirations or discipline or future prospects, his family is far from wealthy, he's got zero social status, smarts or rank. Yi-yong is just as much of a forgotten outcast to society as these spirits are.

He does eventually get assistance in the form of Chen Chuying - a junior police officer (helping substantially with the mystery investigation side of things) and Cao Guangyan - former one-sided rival schoolmate and current med student who coincidentally moves next door (initially maintains the outsider perspective of Yi-yong as a hooligan until they get to know each other a little better, by which point Guangyan is already helping Yi-yong get back on his feet) who form a very well-rounded, loveable cast.

I wish I could talk more about this show, I am very fond of it. Please do watch it and if anyone wants to discuss it my dms are open.

Tropes: ragtag trio of idiots, urban fantasy, mystery, tear-jerker, reluctant hero

Get your pussy up get your money up (life is giving lemons and survival is the name of the game)

Honourable mentions here: Yeon Sang-ho popped off with Train to Busan in 2016 and South Korea has been throwing bangers into one of my favourite genre pools ever since. If you're interested in more zombie series I would strongly recommend checking out All of Us are Dead (2022), Happiness (2021), Sweet Home (2020) and Kingdom (2019).

A Shop for Killers (2024) Korea, 8 episodes, Netflix Summary: Jeong Ji-An tragically loses her parents as a young girl. Her reserved and mysterious estranged uncle, Jeong Jinman, acts as her sole guardian and care-taker, raising her with tough love and a survivalist mindset until she leaves for university. One day, Jung Ji-An hears that her uncle has suddenly passed away, and returns home, where she learns the truth behind her uncle's business and by extension, her past.

Ji-An is locked inside a building with no communication with the outside world, nowhere to go, and with assassins after her head (not ideal). Unbeknownst to Ji-An though, her late uncle Jinman prepared a thorough defense system for this very event, setting her up with home-terf advantage and a very dangerous fortress against this army.

Ji-An and Jinman's story is told mainly through flashbacks as Ji-An attempts to survive the raid on their home. Their dynamic is definitely a repeat of the stoic, initially cold father-figure type "I am neither your mum or your dad, and I can never be" to the orphan child that we've been seeing more recently of late. I'm not mad about it. It's a good formula. I won't go into the type of person Jinman is, or the nature of his work/business. Going in blind and slowly figuring this out with Ji-An was a big plus in terms of the viewing experience for me.

Tropes: reluctant parental figure, home alone antics

D.P. (2021) Korea, 12 episodes, Netflix Summary: Ahn Junho is enlisted to serve in the South Korean Army as part of his national service obligations. He eventually goes to the Army's Military Police. While getting used to life in the MP, Junho's street smarts lands him in the D.P. (Deserter Pursuit) unit. Junho is assigned with Corporeal Han Hoyeol to capture deserters, revealing the painful reality endured by each enlistee during their compulsory duty.

imo D.P.'s is at its most enjoyable when Junho and Hoyeol are working as detectives with limited time and resources. Hoyeol's presence especially adds needed levity. He's like the show's own eccentric little court jester (at least until season 2, where he becomes the show's own tortured little court jester). You don't know how much you're missing Hanyeol until he shows up and you're finally given some space to breathe.

This show's gotten a lot of praise for its realistic social commentary around the vicious cycle of bullying, hazing practices, corruption and abuse within the South Korean military. It's well written and fast-paced, and it definitely doesn't pull its punches. I probably wouldn't recommend this show were it not for the quality of its writing, its ability to balance the depressing subject matter with pockets of dark comedy and everyone's favourite dynamic duo Junho and Han Hoyeol. All the content warnings for this one.

Tropes: ptsd, abuse, brotherhood, idk man straight up not having a good time

Weak Hero Class (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki Summary: Straight-A student and loner Yoon Sieun utilizes his wits and tools to defend himself from a boys school full of shit-heads. He slowly warms up to Ahn Sooho, the school's strongest fighter, and Oh Beomseuk, the new transfer Student.

Sieun is here to answer the age-old philosophical question: "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit?" Even though Sieun is physically lacking, he's very capable of baring his teeth and using his smarts to fight like hell. It's so cathartic to finally see a short, weak, bullied protagonist willing to go violently feral upon provocation.

This show's tone can get pretty dark and surprisingly violent. The true core behind why a lot of people love this show is Sieun and Sooho's friendship. Sieun starts off as a grumpy, glaring, withdrawn hermit with no interest in anything that isn't studying (honestly idk how Sieun keeps finding himself in these situations like. All the kid ever wanted was to hit the books). I won't spoil too much, but watching as Sooho slowly peels away that protective shell Sieun encases around himself is a thing of beauty. I strongly recommend you give the first episode a go (free on youtube).

Tropes: angst, bromance, badass bookworm, adults are useless, abusive parents

Detectives smashing you over the head repeatedly with gay subtext (not explicitly gay but if you have a brain and any semblance of a gaydar that thing is going to be going off like a geiger counter next to the elephant foot)

The Devil judge (2021) Korea, 16 episodes, Netflix and Viki Summary: Set in a dystopian version of present-day South Korea, the world is bereft of law and order and the court justice process has become like a reality tv show. Head Trial Judge Kang Yohan mercilessly punishes the guilty and corrupt, earning him the "Devil Judge" monicker. As bitter rivalry takes shape between Yohan and the highly ambitious Jung Sun-ah, who has risen from poverty to become a corporate social responsibility foundation director. Into this turbulent world enter two childhood friends on a mission for true justice and determined to discover the secret Yohan is hiding: rookie judge Kim Gaon and detective Yoon Su-hyun.

The Devil Judge tackles the concept of the anti-hero (battling evil with evil) and questions why these figures are idolized by the public. It also challenges the naive faith in the rule of law and whether or not the established systems should be upheld or not. The screenwriter has however made it very clear that he focused way more on the relationship between the characters than conveying his own message and boy oh boy is that reflected in whatever Yohan and Gaon have got going on (serious come-hither eyes, gratuitous physical touch, themes of power, justice and corruption, Yohan pressing Gaon up against the nearest hard surface on at least four separate occasions, etc.).

Kang Yohan, the titular anti-hero/main protagonist operates within a failed state and a corrupted judiciary. To a certain extent he knows the self-destructive path he walks is doomed to fail, but to right the system and take revenge, he's on the lookout for a someone that can out him as the Devil and become the messiah that Yohan himself cannot be. It does come off as very "anime" at times (theatrical presentation, tragic backstories, bad writing when it comes to women, naive characters and overly dramatic tone) but hey, if you have very few qualms with that, chances are you're going to have a blast.

Also the OST for this show absolutely fucks. It has no right being this good. Jung Se Rin really popped off. I have Enemy of Truth as a staple in a lot of my playlists.

Tropes: idealist vs jerkass pragmatist, anti-hero/vigilante, whump

The Worst of Evil (2023) Korea, 12 episodes Summary: Set in the 1990s, a former DJ starts selling a new powerful drug. Since the police know little about its origin, rural police officer Park Junmo is assigned to go undercover and infiltrate the criminal empire responsible for the drug trade between Korea, Japan, and China. Junmo later discovers that his wife, Yoo Euijung, also a detective, has volunteered to participate in this dangerous mission and seems to have a past with the underground drug king (and Junmo's boss), Jung Gicheul. The deeper Junmo entrenches himself as Gicheul's subordinate, the more unrecognisable he becomes to those closest to him.

Junmo could have let Gicheul die or slip away like several times in a row, indicates he has zero idea why he does this, then says the line verbatim "I look up to him and I like him and my body follows my heart". What am I supposed to take away from this. This show has everything. Early 90s homoerotic cigarette lighting, sodomy, incredible cinematography, betrayal, close-ups of Junmo's bloody face squished up against Gicheul's thigh. There's some scenes where Junmo is looking at both his wife and Gicheul framed in the same shot like the goddamn camera is daring you to question who he is more jealous of. My biggest complaint is that there was quite literally no need for a wife-stealing plot - the most compelling, messiest gay situationship was right there for the taking.

In episode 9 post-gang war hallway-slaughter, a blood-soaked Junmo hops up onto a table on all fours with a knife between his teeth, locks eyes with Gicheul then proceeds to slash a man's achilles tendon and if you listen closely enough you'll hear me in the background screaming YOU HAVE BECOME HIS DOG. 10/10 watch this show.

Tropes: mafia, undercover, bodyguard, make him worse, devotion and loyalty gone bad gone nuclear, maybe if they fucked nasty about it we wouldnt be in this mess

Beyond evil (2021) would also go here and has similar vibes to the above two, but I personally don't have much to say about it. Unhinged slutty old man, gay stuff going on over there, etc, etc. Citrinekay sums it up nicely here. Guardian (2018) would probably also go here. Definitely check these out if you enjoy/like the sound of these shows.

Lighthearted fun romance (I am not escaping the lesbian fujoshi accusations)

Cherry Magic (2020) Japan, 12 episodes Summary: Adachi is a salaryman with low confidence and a tendency for self-deprecation, resulting in him often acting awkward around others, not being sure how to assert himself in the workplace, and constantly comparing himself to the company's golden boy - Kurosawa. Things become further complicated when Adachi finds out after his thirtieth birthday that he has suddenly gained the magical power to hear people's thoughts if he touches them. Adachi struggles with his newfound touch telepathy when he accidentally discovers Kurosawa is in love with him.

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard!? (Yes that is the full title, Japan you are killing me) is very sweet and wholesome and the humour hits and I believe in Kurosawa Yuichi supremacy. I know self-deprecating characters can be a downer for some people but Adachi comes off as very relatable and seeing him slowly gain more confidence in himself and his abilities is heartwarming. Great serotonin-booster. If you find this show's premise interesting there's a high likelihood you will enjoy it.

I didn't care so much for the second couple but if you're like me it's easy to skip through these scenes (you won't be missing anything).

Tropes: office romance, telepathy, pining

Semantic Error (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki and Netflix (region-dependent) Summary: Cho Sangwoo is the epitome of an inflexible and strict rule-abiding person. When talented graphic design major Jaeyoung discovers Sangwoo is the cause for his delayed university graduation, he sets out to take revenge (by becoming Sangwoo's biggest, brightest daily annoyance). Jaeyoung finds himself in hot water when he inadvertently develops a crush, and junior computer science major Sangwoo is about to encounter some serious errors in his usual programming.

This is a classic polar opposites attract story, with Jaeyoung the loud, extroverted, brash foil to Sangwoo's reserved, withdrawn, morally black-and-white, logic-first persona. As much fun as it is to see Sangwoo's ordered world thrown into chaos, it's equally enjoyable to witness Jaeyoung jump from being obsessively committed to annoying Sangwoo, to being whipped for him (and the subsequent difficulties this causes for Jaeyoung - a popular, attractive, talented, bi artist used to getting his way - in trying to pursue a highly irritated and emotionally closed-off Sangwoo, who is being challenged with a side of himself he hasn't had to grapple with up until now). Also Jaeyoung has an incredibly hot lesbian best friend which was great. for me specifically.

An entertaining, cohesive story with great actors who have fantastic chemistry. What more can you ask for?

Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, university, pulling pigtails

Old Fashion Cupcake (2022) Japan, 5 episodes Summary: At the critical juncture of a mid-life crisis, Nozue, a 39-year-old office worker, is stuck in the dull, mundane grind of wake, work, sleep. But due to his age, he's convinced he's well past the point he can take risks by trying something new. As such, he continues to decline promotions at his job and romantic advances from potential partners. He confides one day in his 29-year-old subordinate, Togawa, making an off-hand comment about a desire to be like a young girl - capable of feeling excitement and joy in life again. In an attempt to inspire him to move forward, Togawa suggests an "anti-aging experiment" and the two of them go on a journey together to help Nozue feel young again.

First things first - a large portion of Togawa's proposed "ant-aging technique" involves frequenting dessert cafes and restaurants that are catered towards a younger female demographic and fuck me the food in this show always looks so goddamn good.

The boss/employee thing might turn people away from giving this a shot but what I really love about this show is that despite being Nozue's subordinate (and younger than him - which is a bigger deal in Japan), Togawa is extremely blunt and unafraid to tell Nozue exactly what he thinks (so long as Togawa believes it will ultimately benefit Nozue in the long run), and it's very clear that he does this because he has a strong sense of respect for Nozue (and because spoilers - Togawa is so down bad for his boss like okay boy DAMN. Go get your esoteric old man). This show is also great at conveying emotion and inner conflict without dialogue (I've enjoyed coming back for a re-watch and picking up on little nuisances in Togawa and Nozue's behaviour that I missed the first time around).

Overall this is a very cute, very wholesome coming of age/queerness story that reminds you that it's never too late to pursue what interests you, try something new, and enjoy life while you're at it.

Tropes: fingers in his mouth friday, pining, age gap, office romance, food as a love language

That's it! If you want more recs from a genre hit up my inbox, I had a fun time pulling this together and have many more in the chamber where that came from.

#long post #yes I didn't add the untamed because if you haven't already seen or heard of that show you are. living under a rock #i didn't realise how difficult it is to communicate specifically why you like a show until now #move to heaven #oh no! here comes trouble #a shop for killers #d.p. #weak hero class 1 #the devil judge #the worst of evil #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?! #semantic error #old fashion cupcake #drama recommendation #kdrama #asian drama #show recommendations #drama recs #ask

[ashesbreadandbutter]

I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.

The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.

Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.

Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"

Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)

(Feel free to use :3)

Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.

No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.

The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!

Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.

"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.

"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.

If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.

I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.

This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)

I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.

He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?

Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.

They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.

I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!

- A

#vox x alastor #alastor x vox #voxal #writing commissions #please commission me #i will write almost anythin #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fandom #fanfic #hazbin hotel #writers of tumblr #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #anon answered #send anons #anon ask #thanks anon! #anonymous #headcanon #story building

[tac-the-unseen]

How the slashers show affection

Minor editing for formatting and writing for additional characters. (That's something you won't see in my original AO3 book!)

Michael Myers:

Quality time

He shows up. If Michael really likes you he will show up for you. Got a place you want to go? He's there. Did you work really hard on something and want show him? OK. Just maybe dont expect a huge reaction out of him.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher:

Acts of service and physical touch!

Billy will go out of his way to try and help you do something. That or he'll just do it for you. Stu is a teddy bear. Always touching you or Billy.

Study date look a little like you and Billy doing the work and stu snuggled up to both of you.

Thomas Hewitt:

Acts of service

Thomas while busy will always find a way to help you. Something on a shelf you can't reach? Grabs it and hands it to you.

Bubba Sawyer:

Physical touch

Cuddle bug! Bubba is always down to cuddle. After all the chores are done of course. His brothers don't like slackers

Bo Sinclair:

Gift Giving

Will buy and or steal things off of victim's to give to you. ASK WHERE HE GOT THE CLOTHES FROM!! If he stutters either don't wear it or wash it a couple times.

Vincent Sinclair:

Gift Giving

He will draw/paint you and give it to you! He's very shy about no matter how long you've been together. Give him some praise and you might get some more.

Lester Sinclair:

Words of affirmation

Praise!!! He loves to give and get! Expect compliments all the time. You made dinner? " This is really really Good!" ( if you give some praise back he will be a big ol blushing mess )

Billy Lenz:

Physical touch

Did you expect anything else? Billy Lives to have his hands on you. If you don't find a hand on your ass, tits, or thighs, something is very wrong.

Brahms Heelshire:

Physical touch

Mother Fucker practically glued to your hip. Anytime you sit he's on your lap. Laying down? Already snuggled up. (Pro tip: you can get out of chores via cuddle compensation!)

Hannibal Lecter:

Acts of service

Don't want to do dishes? OK he'll do them! Don't want to get out of bed? He'll bring you your meals. Hannibal will do anything ( within reason) for you!

Will Graham:

Quality time

Will love spending time with you. More than anything in the world. You could just be sitting down, saying nothing, and he'd still appreciate it. Even if he can't vocalize it or put it into physical action, making time out of his schedule just to sit next to you is how he lets you know, he loves you.

The Lost boys:

David- Words of affirmation

David is a sweet talker through and through. If you seek verbal validation, He's your guy. He let you know when you're doing a good job, or if you look particularly nice this evening. He has no problem purring at you if he knows you like it.

Dwayne- Acts of service

Dwayne loves nothing more than helping you reach that tall shelf, or finding a book you'll like. And with that motorcycle, he has no problem being your personal chauffeur. He'll even read to you if you ask. Whatever you need, he's quick to dote on you.

Paul- Physical touch

No surprise here. Paul loves to grab and hold onto you at all hours. You can bet anytime you're standing still he's right behind you hugging you while rocking side to side. Sitting down? He's already pulled out the blanket to cuddle you.

Marko- Quality time

Marko might seem like a party, jump around kind of guy, but he actually sits pretty still when he's working on something. Whether it's a painting, sewing, or doodling he's almost like a statue (minus his hands of course). So when you're craving some kind of affection from him he'll let you lean on him while he's working, making light conversation. He cherishes these little moments with you.

Thanks for reading! <3

#slashers #michael myers #billy loomis #stu macher #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #billy lenz #brahms heelshire #hannibal lecter #will graham #the lost boys #x reader #fluff

[cowardlybean]

i spent too long on these not to post them but hey. little crumbs I guess <3

doodles for the fic Rainspeak by @quirkle2 (I can NEVERRRR do this fic justice it’s SO GOOD please go read it)

ft the library chapter (twice,,), teru’s condensed aura, and reigen at 3 am in the alleyway about to be ambushed by ritsu (my favorite chapter)

#mp100 #cowardly draws #shoutout to the fact I started 3 different projects bc this fic was so good (positive) #one day I’ll come back to it I Will do this fic justice one day mark my words #there are more (another spinny gif of mob and the blanket fort scene) but hghhhh I’m too self conscious of how messy my wips are #anywho I’m So sorry op for dumping these little scraps on you #reigen arataka #shigeo kageyama #mob psycho 100 #I’m not tagging anything more I’m lazy and nervous #time to go write my last comment o7 fuckin loved that fic #I NEED TO STIP TALKING I HAVE SO MANY TAGS A #and yet there’s so muhc commentary to be said

[its3nvy]

"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;) 

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you. 

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed. 

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy. 

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails. 

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes. 

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve. 

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat. 

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers. 

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form. 

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you. 

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice. 

“Whatever you want, doll.” 

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin. 

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body. 

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch.  He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this. 

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock. 

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you. 

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away. 

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb. 

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest.  With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william bonney #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #wear the hat ride the cowboy #save a horse ride a cowboy

[alicenpai]

two lonely rabbits, two hearts beating as one 🐇🖤🤍 (animated gif) now on inprnt !

old sketch from march I decided to finish <3 usually when one of my sketches (intending to become a completed drawing) gets put on the backburner, it never surfaces. I usually have to prioritize other drawings and then months or years pass and once I have time, I lose interest and start other drawings in their place... but I'm glad I mustered up the energy to finish this one, ESPECIALLY since I strongly felt I needed more gothic pieces in my gallery hehe

the relationships between characters in this series are so interesting, because there are so many character parallels. I actually had to change the personality of white alice from the sketch to the final, since I .. think I misinterpreted her story! (so I think it turned out less gothic horror than desired but you know what I'll take this <3) I first read this story when I was 14 and I 1000% BET I'll still be finding nuances and new details in the writing years into the future...

I had a lot of fun with the animation albeit just being a blink animation 😩👍 but blinks can be animated in a variety of ways! in terms of my animation skills, I do consider myself on the weaker side. so if i can integrate more animation frames into my illustrations, it'll help me become more familiar and comfortable with the medium. I especially like the difference in how many frames it takes for dark Alice vs white Alice to blink. I think the blinks came out fluidly and I'm quite satisfied with how this drawing came out!

#pandora hearts #alice baskerville #alyss (pandora hearts) #will of the abyss #mochizuki jun #COMING TO YOU WITH ANOTHER HAUNTED PORTRAIT #you: “another? bro that last one was 2 years ago” #me: 😔 #tumblr will probably have the highest quality of this drawing everywhere else compresses gifs/videos to hell #i like how you can zoom in on gifs on tumblr #vanitas no carte #animation #also dark alice and white alice have slightly different details on their dresses! #i actually didn't know at first and i feel like a lot of people didn't notice! #my art

[kairologia]

How to start your day according to your rising sign.

Your ascendant/first house represents the sign that was rising above the eastern horizon on the moment of your birth. However, within a broader cosmological framework, where houses each represent a different time of the day according to where the sun is, the First House represents the time of the day where the sun had just risen above the horizon. After a bit of experimenting, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to start your day is to align your early morning activities with those associated with your rising sign’s ruling planet. Here I explain how.

· Aries rising: start your day with a stimulating activity, something that gets you fired up and ready to engage with the day ahead. A workout session, a morning run, some stretching, or something as simple as a walk under the sun. Either way, you’d better get moving as soon as you get out of bed. Avoid getting your most challenging tasks of the day done as early as you wake up — rather, start with the simplest tasks and work your way up as a form of motivation.

· Taurus rising: take as much time as you need to get up. You have your entire day ahead of you, so make sure your morning remains a leisurely time — though I advise you to write a list of tasks down to make sure you have a roadmap of your day planned ahead. No matter how busy things get, make sure you at least start your day with a generous breakfast while enjoying your surroundings by eating in a balcony or somewhere you feel cozied up and relaxed. Investing in a morning skin care routine that works for you can only prove to be beneficial.

· Gemini rising: immediately engage in some mental stimulation. read a few chapters of a book, listen to a podcast, read some news, watch a video. Hell, even scrolling through social media wouldn’t hurt. Give your brain some much needed dopamine shots to get it going. If you’re learning a new language, try to memorize a couple words every morning. If you’re a student, try to study a bit right after waking up. If you have some manual tasks planned, get them done first thing in the morning.

· Cancer rising: schedule your morning routine around moon phases & transits. There are certain lunar transits (cardinal signs) or phases (new moon) where I would recommend starting your day with a workout and energy demanding activities, whereas on other transits (fixed signs) or phases (full moon), I would recommend taking things one step at a time, waking up gently, having a warm cup of your favourite drink, taking a bath, cooking, doing some gardening, and enjoying a relaxing morning before starting your day.

· Leo rising: Make sure that each morning is «you» time and let nothing get in the way of that. Soak up some sun light, start your day with positive affirmations, do 10 minutes of dancing, listen to music, meditate, draw a bit. Get yourself in the mood where you feel most confident and yourself, as there’s one watching you — you’re performing for no one but yourself. Self-care can mean many things and you need to find the form that works best for you. If you enjoy doing make up, do a creative look. If you like reading, read. You can even adapt your morning routine according to the sun’s transits.

· Virgo rising: it goes without saying that starting off your day with some journaling, list making, intention setting, tidying your place up and task planning can prove to be globally beneficial for everyone, but even more so for Virgo risings. You need as much mental stimulation as Gemini risings, if only with some added structure to it. Put yourself in the right mood where you can be productive instantly, get your tasks done starting with the most difficult ones so you'll have the rest of entire day for yourself, and remember to take breaks. It’s still early in the morning, after all!

· Libra rising: your mornings set the tone for the rest of your day — so make sure your day starts off on a harmonious note. Create a classical music playlist & play it every morning, have a nice breakfast – a nice drink and your favourite treat, do some pilates, read a couple page of a book you love, set your intentions for the day, do some bird watching, take a walk in a nearby green space or riverside and enjoy the aesthetics of nature & the scenery, choose an elegant outfit and pair it up with some jewelry & a nice perfume. Harmony is a balanced act that can easily be disturbed so make sure you keep your mornings free of external disturbances.

· Scorpio rising: you will benefit from starting your day gradually, & at a very measured pace. Try to weed out the eventuality that unexpected disruptions may arise (as that might disturb your inner balance & emotional state) by establishing firm boundaries and prioritizing activities that bring you joy & contentment. Any activities that promote focus, introspection, and empowerment would be great — namely journaling, meditation, deep breathing exercises to center yourself, or a 30 minutes workout session. If you enjoy writing, write down your feelings in the form of prose or poetry. Lists will also help you stay structured throughout the day & ensure you won’t spend it entirely inside your head.

· Sagittarius rising: start your day by doing some manifestation. Pick a method you prefer, and make sure you spend at least 5 minutes manifesting and setting intentions for the day ahead, as well as some long-term goal you’re working on. If you’re into philosophy, read a few pages of a philosophical book of your choice first thing in the morning. If you enjoy language learning, spend ~30 minutes learning new notions teaching yourself a full lesson. Drawing or making a moodboard can also help you manifest for the day. A morning walk where you take in your surroundings will also help you get into the right mood.

· Capricorn rising: buy a planner, and start your mornings by writing down your to-do list. Make sure you also have a couple pages dedicated to short term projects, and long term projects — try and check out a case from either every so often, every morning. Doing so will fill your mornings with intention as you will feel like you did something great for yourself (and you did indeed). And as is the case with every other cardinal signs — include a physical activity into your mornings. A 15 minutes run, a 30 minutes walk — whatever you deem best.

· Aquarius rising: write down your dreams & ideas fresh out of bed. Your mind comes up with the best scenarios & concepts early in the morning, so write them down — you never know, maybe one day you’ll find the resources, energy or will to expand on one of them. I have noticed that Aquarius risings come in two fixed archetypes, the type that enjoys socializing fresh out of bed and the type that needs 3 business hours before being able to utter a single word to others – so my advice is simple: if you’re the former: start your day with some socialization, text your friends, post on social media, and if you’re the latter: put your headphones on, read something (anything) and block out any and all external noise.

· Pisces rising: the transition from the realm of dreams to the waking world is a tougher challenge to you than most, so try to start your day slowly and gently. No abrupt and aggressive tasks, no strong drinks, no heavy food. Pressure is of 0 benefit to you so do not put yourself in your “awake” mode until you’re about to go outside. If you’re working on an art piece, draw some of it right now. If you’re writing a book, write down a couple lines as soon as you leave bed as your dreams might provide some extra insights & creativity you wouldn't be able to conjure up while awake. If you have plants, water them. If you have a balcony or garden, spend some time there just sitting & doing absolutely nothing.

If you’d like a reading, more details can be found here!

Have a nice day!

#astrology #astro notes #astrological observations #hellenistic astrology #astro observations #astrology signs #astrology readings #zodiac #astrologia #astro community #rising signs

[ellemj]

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you're both exposed to an unknown chemical in the field, things go from bad to worse.

Warnings: prelude to obvious smut, talk of masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: Just messing around on here and seeing where I end up. I want to write an absolutely filthy part 2 but if this doesn't get anywhere I may scrap it lmao.

            Every. Damn. Time. Something goes sideways every damn time. You want to blame Fury for making the two of you partners to begin with. What the hell did he see between the two of you that made him think missions would ever end in anything other than the two of you butting heads? You sigh deeply and rub your temples with the pads of your left thumb and middle finger, squeezing your eyes shut as you will yourself not to kick Bucky clear across the lab. You know what Fury saw between the two of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, when you’re in absolute life-or-death situations, you and Bucky work together better than any other partner you’ve ever had in the field. Even Nat.

            Dropping your hand from your face and opening your eyes, your gaze lands on Bucky. He stands at one of the lab benchtops in the center of the room, his eyes narrowing as he examines an array of monitor screens before him. You can make out an organized table of data along with a few charts on the monitor to his left, but that’s not what draws your attention. The second monitor, the one right in front of him, displays a few words that have you on edge.

            Confirmed nitric oxide stimulant capabilities. New formula contains increased quantity of aqueous extract of dried tuberous roots of C. borivilianum.

            Shit. This can’t be what you think it is, but with your medical background and your old medical microbiology classes from before joining SHIELD and the Avengers, you know that there’s a very slim chance that you’re misinterpreting what you’re reading. You step forward now, gently pushing Bucky’s arm to move him away from the monitors so you can get a better look at the data. He begins snapping pictures and immediately sending them back to the team. You can feel his eyes on you as you study the graphs and tables. He’s not used to you being this quiet, he knows something’s up.

            “What are we looking at?” He finally speaks up, his gaze drawn to the colorful graph displayed on one of the monitors.

            “I don’t know.” You lie straight through your teeth, reaching for the keyboard that controls the monitors. You press the right-facing arrow key and the page that said something about nitric oxide disappears, quickly replaced being replaced by a row of video clips, each one titled with a trial number and date. It looks like HYDRA was running trials in this experiment for months.

            “Bullshit. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” Bucky asks. His tone is sharp, impatient. He isn’t used to being the one who doesn’t know what’s going on, and it’s bothering him. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek and waits in silence for you to say something, to say anything. You hover the cursor over the first video clip, dated three months ago from today, Trial #1. Everything in you is screaming not to watch it, not to click on it and confirm your suspicions, but you’re here for a reason. You have an easy job here today: break into the HYDRA facility, collect samples and any data that goes along with what they’ve been working on for the past few months, and then destroy the facility on your way out. Sam and Torres planned it out so perfectly, making sure it would be vacant for the next 13 hours so you and Bucky could slip in and get the job done under the radar. They planned it for two months, doing recon and coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan. You need to confirm your suspicions and get as much evidence as possible before blowing the place to bits.

            You glance over your shoulder at Bucky, and his blue eyes meet yours with a hint of concern. He hates when you’re quiet like this, he hates those rare moments in the field when he can’t read your mind. What the hell are you thinking? What aren’t you telling him? He knows you well enough to know that you’re nervous about whatever you’re seeing here.

            You click the video link and a slightly grainy image of a padded square room fills the screen. The floor and walls are gray and there isn’t any furniture in the room, only what looks to be a set of shackles on the back wall. A shiver runs down your spine and you pull your phone out, typing up a message to Bruce Banner while you wait for something to happen on screen.

You: A chemical compound that stimulates NO and uses aqueous extract of C. borivilianum…is it going to be what I think it is?

            As your message sends, Bucky reaches around you, his chest brushing against your back, and he uses the mouse to fast forward the video until people are appearing on screen. You watch as presumably a HYDRA agent shoves a woman into the room, obviously an unwilling participant in the experiment. She doesn’t fight much as she’s placed in the shackles on the wall, but it’s obvious that she’s weak and likely drugged. The HYDRA agent briefly steps out of view of the camera, before returning with a second captive, a man this time. He’s large, muscular, and has a dark look in his eye. You feel Bucky stiffen up behind you, realizing at the same time as you that this man is a super soldier. Your phone vibrates in your hand and you steal a look at the response from Banner.

Banner: Yes.

            Fuck. The next two minutes of the video are pure horror, even though nothing particularly horrific happens before you slam your hand down on the spacebar, pausing the clip abruptly. You both watched on as a cloudy vapor was pumped into the room through vents, and then watched on as the super soldier became more and more restless, sweaty, and crazed. As soon as the female captive began whimpering and pulling against her shackles, with her eyes trained on the super soldier a few feet to her left, you couldn’t let the video play any longer.

            “Tell me what it is.” Bucky says evenly from behind you. You swallow hard and reach into one of the pockets of your tactical pants, pulling out a device similar to a USB and plugging it into the computer before you. As all of the data and video clips begin to transmit through the device, back to Sam and Torres, you turn around and face your partner.

            “HYDRA hasn’t been able to recreate the super soldier serum. They haven’t made any progress at all since Zemo killed Dr. Nagel.” You say slowly, choosing your tone and words carefully. You don’t want to say too much and leave Bucky as terrified as you are right now, but you also know you can’t keep this from him. Not when you need him to understand how fucking careful you’re both going to have to be from now until the end of this mission.

            “I know that. What are we here for, y/n?” His tone is growing more and more impatient, his jaw ticking as he stares down at you. God, he can’t ever just shut up and listen. You put your hand on his chest, shoving him a few steps back and walking across the lab, to the glass refrigerator in the far corner. It’s full of vials of a clear liquid, each sealed at the top and marked with a label full of scientific terms.

            “They got desperate, and turned to even more barbaric methods of creating super soldiers. They started experimenting with chemical compounds that induce a primal need in those exposed.” You explain carefully. You pause now, turning to look back at Bucky once more. You see realization spread across his face and he quickly comes to understand what you’re saying. It’s a fucking sex pollen.

            Static crackles in your in-ear briefly before Sam’s voice reaches you both.

            “Banner and Stark just finished reviewing some of the data you shared. This is not something that either of you want to be exposed to.” Sam advises, and you can hear Torres in the background typing away on a keyboard.

            “Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, retrieving a pair of nitrile gloves from a box on the benchtop nearby and setting up the small lockbox that you brought for samples. You open it to reveal a padded interior, with enough room for three vials. The rest will have to be destroyed.

            “Just grab the samples, rig the place to blow, and get the hell out of there. I don’t want you in there any longer than you have to be.” Sam’s orders spur Bucky into action, and he starts setting up explosives around the corners of the lab while you get ready to retrieve the samples from the fridge. If only you’d known that HYDRA was one step ahead.

            It happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to try to protect yourself. The moment that you pulled open the small door to the fridge full of samples, that same cloudy vapor you saw in the video clip began to rush in from every air vent in the lab.

            “Shit.” You mumble, reaching into the fridge and grabbing three vials. You quickly place them into the lockbox and seal it, knowing that you’ll definitely need samples to test now that you’ve both been exposed.

            “Sam, we’ve got a problem.” Bucky is as calm as ever, though his voice comes out slightly annoyed. Of course he’d sound annoyed in this moment. He’s been exposed to a sex pollen alongside the partner that he can only get along with when they’re staring death right in the face. He heaves a weighty sigh before stalking over to you and snatching the lockbox from the benchtop. He quickly slides his backpack off, shoving it inside, and then heading for the exit, without checking to see if you’re on his heels or not. You strip off your gloves and bound after him. The gravity of the situation hasn’t hit either of you yet, but oh, it will soon enough.

--

            Bucky weaves his motorcycle in and out of traffic almost recklessly, with your arms clutched around his abdomen. It’s only been fifteen minutes since you were both exposed but you swear that you’re starting to feel the effects. Your cheeks are hot and flushed under your helmet, your hands are shaking as adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart is racing. If you hadn’t been on the back of a motorcycle with Bucky so many times in the past, you would’ve chalked your symptoms up to this experience, but it’s definitely not that.

            “Loosen up, are you trying to do the Heimlich on me or something?” Bucky spits out, his voice playing in your helmet. You do as he says, loosening your hold and taking a deep breath in. You don’t say anything in response, which furthers the tension between you both. It’s been fifteen minutes of stressful silence and Bucky’s losing his damn mind. He wants you to give him shit like you usually would when a mission goes sideways. He wants you to lash out, tell him to stop driving like an ass, he wants you to say anything so he knows you’re okay. He can’t fucking stand the silence.

            He guides the bike down the long dirt road to the safe house you stayed in last night, and you hop off before he’s even put the kickstand down. He watches as you rush up the steps of the small cobblestone house, yanking off your helmet in one swift movement before you key the code into the door and force it open. You’re feeling the effects of the chemical pulsing through your veins, you’re feeling it and you’re trying to keep it from him.

--

            “It’s a very complex compound. A nitric oxide stimulant, utilizing both natural and man-made components. It’s basically a super soldier version of Viagra and ecstasy all in one.” Bruce says, addressing both you and Bucky through the video call. Concern and stress are etched into his soft features as he stands in the lab of the Avengers compound, his arms crossed and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to have to look out for the negative effects, which from the video clips of their experiments, are extremely strong. Take the side effects of ecstasy and multiply their intensity by a hundred.”

            “So, sweating, hypertension and tachycardia, jaw pain…” Your voice trails off as you list off the side effects of ecstasy that you know from your previous pharmacology classes. Bruce nods slowly.

      ��     “Basically, you’ll feel like you’re having a heart attack, unless you’re able to relieve yourselves.” He summarizes.

            “What do you mean relieve yourselves?” Bucky questions. He’s seated on the couch next to you, his brow is furrowed and a sheen of sweat is becoming apparent along the side of his neck. You try not to look at him for too long, already feeling yourself longing for touch and physical contact of any kind.

            “If you’re able to achieve a postcoital state, you should have temporary relief of your symptoms. You might have to achieve that state more than once, until the chemical is out of your system.” You can almost hear the wheels turning in Bucky’s head as he works out what postcoital means. You have to reach an orgasm to feel any relief, but bless Banner for trying to put it in a more professional way.

            “Have you tested the half-life of the chemical yet?” You ponder, wanting to know exactly how long you’ll both be suffering through this. You wipe a bead of sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

            “Yeah, it seems like it can last anywhere from eight to ten hours in a non-super soldier, but it was designed specifically to work in conjunction with the serum, so it lasts eight to twelve hours in a super soldier.” Bruce’s words are starting to jumble together in your head, adding to the slightly throbbing headache that’s forming behind your eyes. You squeeze them shut and rub your temples just like you did in the lab earlier, zoning out as Tony and Bruce both start discussing the pharmacokinetics behind the compound currently wrecking your body.

            “What are our options here?” Bucky asks quietly, directing his question to you alone. You turn to look at him and see his cheeks flushed like yours now, his pupils dilated a minute amount, and his hands clasped together over his knees. There’s no hiding that it’s affecting you both now.

            “I don’t know. The only thing I can think to do is lock ourselves in different rooms and try to ride it out.” You say, rubbing your aching thighs through your tactical pants with the palms of your hands. Your bones are starting to hurt in a deep, consuming way, and all you want to do is give yourself a few doses of propofol to knock yourself out for the next eight hours. It’s going to be hell trying to get through this without having sex, especially if pain is setting in only an hour after the initial exposure.

            “Okay, so we do that. We each lock ourselves in a bedroom and fight it.” Bucky sounds sure and resolved, like he has total faith that your only plan available will work out fine. All it took to bring out his optimistic side was being doused with a sex pollen and stuck in a safe house.

            “I want to monitor both of your vitals through the night.” Bruce calls out, gaining your attention again.

            “No.” You and Bucky both speak firmly at the same time, quick to reject the idea. You don’t need a medical record showing how aroused you end up being tonight, you don’t need Bruce or any of the SHIELD lab staff watching your heart rate increase as you touch yourself, watching your blood pressure spike as you near your climax alone. Bucky is thinking the same thing, shit, his heart rate is probably already through the roof as it is, just from sitting next to you. He tries to focus on whatever else you, Bruce, and Tony are discussing but his jaw is clenched in pain and he’s fighting the urge to rip off his tactical suit right there. It feels like it’s fucking ninety degrees inside. The only thing he catches in the last bit of the conversation is from Tony.

            “There’s a chance you won’t find any relief in an orgasm alone, Y/n. Bucky will, because his body won’t know the difference between finishing himself off vs. finishing inside of a fertile woman, but this compound is meant to make your reproductive system go into overdrive. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.”

            “Fuck.” You inhale sharply, doubling over in pain both at Tony’s unfortunate conclusion and at the cramping sensation you’ve suddenly felt deep in your stomach. Fucking hell.

Next Part

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #sex pollen #the winter soldier #winter soldier #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel

[lordprettyflackotara]

living room flow || Matt Sturniolo

smut 18+, minors dni | a/n: i thought the ending was too emo so i made it just a tad haha. also, first time writing for matt? w? L? thoughts?

Matt patiently waited for you to text him.

He always did, eagerly checking his notifications constantly.

Matt knew that when you texted him that it would only be for one thing.

The brunette sat by his phone as he usually did, trying to distract himself by poorly playing fortnite.

“Hey bro you good? You’ve died every game,” Chris asked. Matt hesitated his response, knowing his affair with you was to be kept hidden. You had no intentions of a relationship and zero intentions of your late nights with Matt getting leaked to anyone. To Matt’s dismay, that included Nick and Chris.

“Yeah man i’m just-” Matt began to respond, setting his controller down. It was in that moment his phone lit up, the satisfying vibration catching Matt’s attention. He grabbed it immediately, unlocking it to read the notification.

Hey, you game tonight?

Matt smiled at your words, quickly texting you back that he was, as always. “I’m just tired, i’m gonna hop off and try to get some sleep,” Matt rambled, excusing himself from the game. The brothers exchanged quick goodbyes, Matt jumping off of the game immediately.

Be there in five

Matt frantically sprayed on some cologne, running his hands through his messy hair. As sneaky as possible he crept down the stairs, careful to not alert his brothers of his presence. You never knocked on the door, always carefully waiting for Matt to open it.

By the time Matt opened it you were going feral. You walked into the house, planting your lips onto his. Electric waves of pleasure shot up his spine, his brain barely functioning enough to remember to shut the front door. Matt smirked into the kiss, roughly matching your energy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He began tugging at your shirt, causing you to pull away. “Here? What about Chris and Nick-” You whispered. Matt helped you take off your shirt, his eyes full of lust as he eyed your breast. “Better be quiet then, hmm?” Matt replied, leaning forward once more. He cornered you against the kitchen counter, tilting your head to the side to give him access to your neck.

He began sucking and licking at your skin, littering it with what you were sure to be love marks in the morning. Covering you in marks was the most possessive Matt could be with you, your agreement to this in the first place centered around no strings attached. You never packed any clothes, you weren’t that lonely, but you did like Matt. Matt knew as soon as both of you had came, you would be going.

It was apart of the reason he took his time with you, trying to draw out the amount of time you’d spend with him. His large hands snaked their way down to your shorts and panties, yanking them down in a swift motion. You could feel your cheeks blushing red, even if Matt had seen you in this position dozens of times. He was always so creative and kinky, you never knew what to expect from him. You would’ve never guessed when you had met him.

You unclasped your bra, leaving your body completely exposed to the feral man in front of you. Matt was quick to lower himself to his knees, lifting you to sit on the kitchen counter. The marble was cool against your skin, goosebumps rising as Matt kissed in between your thighs. “I need you to be good and quiet for me, can you do that?” Matt asked you. You nodded, your breath hitching as he spread your legs.

He lifted your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he licked a stripe up your cunt. You held back a moan, your hand finding its way to his hair. “Matt,” You whispered, his eyes meeting yours. You were so pretty like this, when you were absolutely desperate to be touched in the slightest way. Matt began lapping at your cunt, sucking at your clit. Your thighs squeezed his head, your sinful noises muffled as you grinded against his face.

Matt brought two fingers to your cunt, knowing you enough to know you were impatient. You enjoyed the feeling of getting stretched out, even if it took you a moment to adjust. But Matt’s fingers had been in you so many times now, he felt like they felt perfectly. “Better keep quiet slut, wouldn’t want them to hear you, would you?” Matt taunted. You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head no.

Your walls were squeezing around his as he curled his fingers inside of you, finger fucking you aggressively. That was another thing Matt adored about you. You liked it just as rough as he did. Matt admired you as he watched you struggle to contain yourself. “Or would you like that? Maybe Chris could join. You’d like that, wouldn’t you slut?” Matt asked mockingly. You quietly groaned his name as you tugged at the roots of his hair.

Your walls involuntarily squeezed at the idea of taking both him and Chris, causing him to smirk. He brought himself to his feet, towering over you as he relentlessly finger fucked you. “Oh you like that. You want me and Chris to use both of your holes?” Matt whispered. You let out a soft moan, a familiar knot forming in your stomach. Your brain was slowly turning to mush, your body drunk on the pleasure Matt was giving you.

“Answer me whore, I asked you a question,” Matt growled, glaring down at you. You met his eyes as he studied you. You nodded yes, afraid if you spoke the filthy sounds you were holding in would be unleashed. Matt brought his spare hand to your throat, his rings cool against your skin as he choked you. “Words baby, tell me what you want,” Matt said as lovingly as he could muster. He loved to watch you humiliate yourself for him, babbling filthy nonsense fantasies.

“I-I want you and C-Chris to use me,” You stuttered, trying to keep your groans under control. You grabbed Matt’s wrist, moaning as he squeezed your neck. “I’m gonna cum, fuck i’m gonna fucking cum,” You whispered. You grinded your hips on his hand as he was knuckles deep inside of you, euphoria washing over you as you came on his fingers. Matt smirked as he watched you come down from your high, slowly removing his fingers from your cunt.

You panted as you watched Matt remove his shirt, gasping in surprise as he picked you up off of the counter. He laid you down on the couch and you silently thanked him for putting you on the velvet one. He leaned back, beginning to tug down his plaid pajama pants. “You sure you’re going to be able to be quiet as I fuck you senseless?” Matt asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes playfully, helping him tug down his pants and boxers.

“If you don’t hurry up I might change my mind and go see if Chris is available,” You teased. Matt leaned over you, bringing his hand back to your throat. “You’re cute, but you belong to me,” Matt whispered. He brought his shaft to your aching cunt, your body melting at his words. You swallowed as he squeezed your throat, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock. “You’re all mine,” Matt muttered, pushing himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison as he slowly slid into you, stretching you out as he buried his cock inside of you. His words barely processed in your mind, his tip brushing against your g spot. You struggled to remain quiet as he slowly began to move, involuntarily you moaned his name. Matt began to pick up the pace, releasing your throat and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You both were whimpering messes, his cock abusing your cunt to his liking. “You feel so good,” Matt praised, placing sloppy kisses onto your neck. You clung onto his back, your nails digging into his skin. He continued to fuck you, both of you losing yourselves in the pleasure the other provided. Matt almost didn’t hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, his eyes widening once he heard a tiktok playing from one of his brothers phones.

Shit.

In a swift motion Matt grabbed your hips, rolling both of you off of the couch and onto the floor. “Matt! What the fuck?” You whispered, your back slamming against the carpet. Matt shoved his hand over your mouth, placing his finger to his lips to signal you to be quiet. Your eyes widened as the sound of random tiktok audios rang off of the walls. Matt peeked around the couch, Chris’s face buried into his phone. As Matt moved he brushed against your g spot, your whimpering muffled by Matt’s hand.

Matt looked down at you, the fridge light illuminating the look of lust written across your face. Matt smirked. “You freaky fuck,” Matt grumbled, ensuring that only both of you heard him. Matt slowly bucked his hips, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sound of Chris rummaging through the fridge became background noise. The stairs were connected to the kitchen, surely the couch in the living room would provide you both enough privacy, right?

Matt listened intently as Chris grabbed a snack, his eyes glued to his phone as he went back upstairs. You could feel your orgasm approaching, Matt’s slow and sensual strokes sending you quickly to euphoria. The idea that Chris could catch you at any moment made your walls squeeze Matt tighter. The sound of Chris’s footsteps up the stairs slowly evaporated out of earshot.

“Fuck you’re milking me baby,” Matt groaned, picking up his pace. He snapped his hips into yours, your thighs trembling as you felt your orgasm approaching. Matt kept his hand over your mouth, your hand gripping his wrist as you came. Your thighs shook violently as you came, Matt’s thrust slowing down as he pulled out of you. He groaned your name as he jacked his cock in front of you, whimpering as he came on your stomach.

His cum painted your skin, his hand removed from your mouth as he looked down and admired you. Your heart was racing, your breathing slowly going back to normal as you came down from your high. “You’re so pretty,” Matt murmured. You gave him a weak smile, your head spinning as you slowly sat up. “Here let me help you,” Matt whispered. He grabbed a nearby tissue box, wiping your stomach clean and cleaning you up.

In less than a minute you were collecting your scattered clothes off of the floor and redressing yourself. Matt licked his dry lips as he pulled on his pajama pants, watching as you quickly shoved your clothes back on. “You know you don’t have to go, you can always stay the night,” Matt offered. You ran your fingers through your hair, giving him a small smile. You walked to the door, holding your sneakers.

“Maybe next time Matty,”

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, before you disappeared into the night.

Matt watched you went, before slowly shutting the door.

As sneaky as he could he headed upstairs, gently closing his bedroom door behind him. He sighed. Out of disappointment you left, but also out of relief his brothers didn’t manage to hear anything out of the ordinary. Matt felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, causing him to quickly dig it out of his pants.

From: Chris

Next time you have a sneaky link over, try to not leave her clothes all over the kitchen. I almost slipped on her panties and fell. Not cool dude.

#matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #john price smut #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x you #captain john price x reader #pornstar!au

[colleendoran]

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

 Go me!  

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing. 

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year. 

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: First Kisses

Featuring Astarion, Halsin, Gale, Gortash, Raphael

Inspiration courtesy of @me-writes-prompts

Gortash

He’s quick to bind your hands. Something you knew was coming considering you were taken prisoner. Gortash wasn’t about to let a skilled warrior such as you be transported with your hands unbound.

His fingers work quickly to tie a knot in the rope holding your hands together. A fluttery feeling fills your stomach at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your hands.

He lowers your hands, tipping your chin up to look at him. “Try anything, and you won’t like the punishment.”

You can’t explain why, but your eyes travel to his lips. There’s something about him that draws you in, makes you wonder what he tastes like.

Before you can comprehend your movements, you step forward and kiss him.

His body tenses for a moment and you step away quickly to gauge his reaction. You can’t read him. He simply watches you.

Your breath leaves you. A part of you unbelieving you just did that. A burn blooms in your chest as you wait for him to react in a rage.

Then he stalks over to you, his long legs moving quickly. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you roughly.

You ache to touch him, but your bound hands stop you. So you simply roll your hips into his so you can feel him as much as possible. He growls into your lips at your movements.

His hands fall to your ass. He grips you roughly as you continue to move your hips against him. Your heart is pounding. Your mind is unable to comprehend that you’re making out with Enver Gortash.

Astarion

Astarion has offered to help you practice your kissing technique. At first you were slightly offended that he even thinks you need practice, but after some contemplation, you realize it’s been a while. And you were hoping to find some company at a tavern tonight as well.

Which is how you find yourself sitting across from him. You both sit cross legged, as if you’re a couple teenagers about to play a dirty game. Tension laces your body. This isn’t exactly a comforting situation.

“Just try to focus on what I’m doing,” he instructs.

You nod, watching his lips as he tilts his head to kiss you. You nearly gasp as his skin meets yours. His lips are deliciously cold, and you have to restrain yourself from leaning into him. He’s the one taking the lead here.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip. You part your lips to grant him access. The smallest of whimpers escapes you as his practiced tongue glides against yours.

Your hands move on their own as they try to snake through his hair. His hands are quick to restrain you.

“No touching,” he says before resuming his work.

You feel lightheaded by the time he pulls away. He looks at you with a smug look on his face, clearly knowing the effect he has on you.

“Your turn,” he tells you. By the twinkle in his eyes, you can tell he can’t wait to taste you again.

Gale

The necklace Gale hands to you is gorgeous. The gem sitting on the chain glitters in such a way that it almost takes your breath away. No doubt he added some magical effect to it to make it that much more special.

“Gale, this is too much,” you tell him. You’ve had a crush on him since he joined your adventure, and things like this aren’t helping the growing affection you feel for him.

“The necklace would be going to waste if it was on anyone else,” he replies. “I want you to have it.”

You press it against your chest and grin at him. “I love it.”

The way he looks at you makes your heart flutter. “Let me put it on for you.”

He takes the necklace and you sweep your hair up so he can secure the clasp at the back of your neck. His fingers brush against your skin, causing a slight shiver to rush through you.

When he’s finished, you turn to kiss him on the cheek. But then he turns his head, and your lips meet.

A small gasp leaves you, and you step away. “Sorry about that, I just wanted to thank you for such a beautiful gift.” Your face suddenly feels unbelievably hot.

He moves closer. He tilts your chin up. You meet his gaze, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“So thank me.”

He’s inviting you in. Your eyes fall to his lips. You admire the shape of them for a moment before leaning in to kiss him.

Lightning ignites in your belly when your lips meet his. Your body nearly jolts at the sensational feeling. His hands fall to your waist. His fingers press into you ever so slightly.

His tongue is certainly practiced. You nearly feel dizzy at the pleasure he’s able to ignite in you just from a kiss. But he holds you steady, and you’re grateful, because your knees feel like they could buckle at any moment.

Of course, Astarion is the one to ruin your moment.

“Please kill me now,” you hear his voice behind you. You both whip your head to the source, cheeks flushed.

“If I have to watch you two doing that from now on, I’m flinging myself off a cliff.”

Halsin

You never should’ve let Karlach pick for game night. But here you all are, sitting around the campfire playing truth or dare. Your mind is slightly fuzzy due to the wine you’ve been drinking, and the laughter that’s been bubbling in you for most of the night.

“Truth or dare?” Karlach asks when it’s your turn.

You're quick to pick dare. The alcohol in your system challenges you to do something dumb.

Karlach answers as if she’s been waiting all night for this. “I dare you to kiss Halsin.” She grins proudly.

A small twinge of anxiety pokes at you through your fuzzy haze. Your eyes flicker to Halsin, expecting him to look offended or hurt. But his expression is an open one, a light smile even graces his lips.

You shrug. “Alright.”

You make your way over to Halsin. Grateful for the drinks you’ve had, you sit on one of his thighs. You feel his hand slide up your back, earning tingles at the back of your neck.

You lean forward and carefully press your lips against his, as if testing if he’s okay with it. Then he leans into you, and you know you have permission to fall into him even more.

The gang hoots around the campfire, egging you on. You laugh against his lips. Part of you wishes you were in private so you could kiss other parts of him as well. Those large hands of his hold you so carefully. You want to feel them on your hips, your thighs, everywhere.

Karlach groans. “Okay enough. Before I get sick.”

Raphael

This was wrong. You knew that. Raphael is a devil. He just wants to manipulate you. Trick you into getting what he wants.

And now, as he corners you and presses himself against you, you know he’s playing your body. Using your reactions to weaken you and your state of mind. But his firm body continues to send waves of pleasure straight through you.

“What’s wrong, little mouse?” He asks, smirking. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Cat got your tongue?”

He angles his face close to yours, eyes intense and alight with desire. A small voice in your head tells you to push him away. But it’s hard to listen when he looks so sinful.

His lips are on yours. You instinctively grind against him, cheeks flushing at how quickly your body gives in. Flames lick at your skin. His hands roam your body as if he’s memorizing every dip and curve.

When his claws trace your bare skin, you gasp. His body tightens at the noises you make. You should stop this. You should push him away.

But every roll of his hips, every caress of his fingers, and you can’t help yourself from falling deeper into his haze.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin imagine #enver gortash #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash imagine #lord gortash #lord gortash x reader #gortash x reader #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #Raphael imagine