#I like doing one of these every other post. it looks nice

[pomefioredove]

Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.

Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.

ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

First Year's Ending

"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."

The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.

Everyone else is staring daggers at them.

Vil is the first to speak. "How?"

"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.

"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."

Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"

The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:

"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.

"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."

Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"

"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."

The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.

"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"

Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"

Riddle's Ending

"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.

It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.

Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.

And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"

"Nervous," you admit.

Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"

You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.

"Is he?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."

You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"

"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"

Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.

For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.

Ruggie's Ending

"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."

Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.

"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"

The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.

"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"

"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."

Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"

Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.

"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"

"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"

Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"

"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."

"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"

---

Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.

Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.

Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.

"So... what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."

"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."

The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.

"Well, I hope not,"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"

"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."

A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"

Octotrio's Ending

"Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.

Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.

"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.

"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."

Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.

---

Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.

Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.

"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.

"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"

The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"

"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"

Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.

Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"

"Thank you,"

"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.

Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"

"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"

"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"

You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"

Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"

You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"

Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.

"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.

Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"

Floyd and Azul groan in unison.

Jamil's Kalim's Ending

"Kalim al-Asim!"

Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"

Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.

Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.

Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.

"Wh-"

The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.

"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"

Your eyes widen. "You- you-"

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.

Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.

Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.

"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"

He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.

"Grim!" You whisper-shout.

"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.

Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"

You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.

"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."

"It could be worse,"

"Much worse," he agrees.

A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."

You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.

"...Thank you, Jamil,"

Vil's Ending

"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."

Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.

Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.

"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."

Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.

"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"

"You really don't have to..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"

A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.

He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.

"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.

"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"

Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.

The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.

Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.

"Come here. I need to have a look,"

You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"

He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.

Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"

Good Ending

"And our winner is... M-"

"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.

"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"

"Well I- I-"

"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"

"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"

The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.

Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"

"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."

"But-"

"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."

---

A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.

Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.

"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."

Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"

"No- wait, canceled?"

"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."

Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"

#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

[wifeyoozi]

hiiii!!!! i adore your works and love reading them!! 🫶🏻 while scrolling through your profile i saw that your requests for ot13 were open! :) so i thought maybe i could request ot13 reaction to a s/o with tattoos? (doesn't have to be a full sleeve for example, just tattoos in general)

or if you're not really feeling it, maybe ot13 reaction to a s/o with physical touch as their love language? 🫣

i hope you're having a nice day / night and keep up the good work!! 💘

ot13 seventeen : when your love language is physical touch

ceecee's note : sorry for late post lol and also I'm doing the second prompt not cuz I'm uncomfy with tattoos in fact I have two myself but I just find the second one really fluffy tho if you want me to do another one with the first prompt too, you can ask again and I would love writing about it too <33

seungcheol : he's really clingy himself, so he loves that you show your love to him by constantly hugging him and cuddling with him. when not in front of camera, the two of your really look like those teddy bears who hug each other and have been stitchd at their hands so they can literally not be separated from each other. like two koalas.

jeonghan : doesn't respond to you clinging on him very actively like seungcheol but everytime you hug him, he'll automatically hug back and when you are just touch starved, he'll come and plop his head on your lap so you can touch him and hug him and cuddle him all you want.

joshua : my gentleman. not the one to usually start physical contactbut really loves when you do and responds with almost the same energy. loves having you in his arms and keeping you warm all the time.

junhui : secretly very cuddly. doesn't show it a lot at the start of your relationship. now he'll pout every second you are not physically in contact with him and is just as much of a cuddle bear as you are.

soonyoung : he also naturally has physical-touch as his love language. he is more often clinging on you that you on him and literally loves when you two are hugging so close there is not even space for vacuum between you two, cheeks squishing against each other.

wonwoo : physical affection isnt his love language but he loves being the recipient of it. there are very less people he is as comfortable to be so close and touchy with and you are one of them. he really loves having you cling onto him like you are a koala and he is your tree branch

woozi : he rarely responds to you cuddling to him always, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. he really loves it. he actually feels so loved and appreciated the way you are always holding on him. on rare occasions like when he is tired or just full of love for you, he'll initiate physical touch by hugging you close and clinging to you instead.

minghao : doesn't show on surface to others how much he loves having you constantly bother him with hugs and cuddles and touches but you do know that he really enjoys that just by how he looks at you and smiles at you and always has a loose yet firm hand resting on your hips or back everytime you are by his side.

mingyu : this big baby literally feels so happy every time you cling to him. though physical touch isn't his primary love lang, its definitely one of them. literally greets you with bone-crushing hugs everytime and is peppering you with kisses whenever you cuddle beside him.

seokmin : he loves whenever you are constantly touching him. loves seeing you smile when you hug him and breath full of his scent. hugs you every chance he gets because he knows how much you like it. would never push you off him or even tell you so whenever you are hugging or cuddling him, even if he gets slightly uncomfortable or his arm dies under the weight of your head.

seungkwan : all he really needs after the long day of work is being hugged full by you. it just so helps that you love doing so. literally relaxes under your touch every time, just increasing you urge to keep him close all the time. if you let go of him even momentarily, he'll get so sulky.

vernon : he isn't one to start physical touch by himself either, but is always really comfortable when you do so. doesn't even realsie when he wraps his arms around you and rests his head on top of yours while cuddling. just loves you being in his space when he loves you.

chan : he's the kind who keeps changing his love language to match his partner's. your love language is physical touch? well now so is his! literally matches your energy in cuddliness and touchiness all the time. will hold you close and tight all the time and kiss you all the time because he knows how much you love it.

#svt #seventeen #dk x reader #hoshi x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #scoups x reader #jun x reader #wonwoo x reader #woozi x reader #the8 x reader #mingyu x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #svt x reader #svt fluff #scoups fluff #jeonghan fluff #joshua fluff #jun fluff #hoshi fluff #wonwoo fluff #woozi fluff #the8 fluff #mingyu fluff #seokmin fluff #seungkwan fluff #dino fluff #vernon fluff #ceecee sees

[shadow1515]

Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 

#dark!fic #shadow writes #fallout show #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pls read the warnings #minors dni #also i am very scared to post this here... #so if it gets taken down at some point that's why #you can find it on ao3 tho

[secsicornerwriter]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Title: Morning Sex with Ghost

Tags: morning sex, size kink, overstimulation

Words: 700

Warning: English is not my first language. Not beta read. I do not own these characters, only the ones I create. Please, do not repost my work to other sites and don't add your own writing ideas to my post.

Notes: if you liked what you read, I'd very much appreciate a like or a reblog or even better: both. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy the reading!

If you want to suggest ideas you think I should write about, prompt me one in the ask section. But remember to read my pinned post first: I always update it with new information regarding this blog.

Also, I tend to put myself down a lot regarding my writing, so, as desperate and/or pathetic as it may sound: any words of encouragement or actions (likes, reblogs, nice comments, etc...) would truly mean a lot to me... Thank you in advance! 🖤

You're a nervous sleeper. The type of nervous sleeper that tends to almost fall off the bed every single night you and Simon – on those rare occasions he manages to come back home to you – sleep in the same bed—his bulk occupying more than half of the space on the king sized bed.

So, it's only natural for Simon to lock his big and veiny forearm around your waist and bring your body closer to his until your back is practically plastered on his front. Then, satisfied with the new arrangement and knowing you're finally safe from accidental injuries, he leaves a kiss on your temple or your hair and goes back to sleep.

You never actually wake up during the night when he does this. You never wake up when you know he's right next to you, but, in the morning, when you finally notice what he did to keep you safe, you cutely roll yourself around his tight embrace. After a lot of sweet talk to convince him to loosen up his grip on you – he actually growled into your ear, disappointed – he probably takes pity on you and decides to let you free from his vice-like hold.

So, you start kissing him. Of course.

You kiss him on the cheek first—as if to thank him. And that alone gets you another growl, a pleased one this time, from the big man laying next to you. The sounds he's making are so throaty and primal, that you get surprised every single time you hear them. You can't help but keep kissing his warm and exposed skin; a need to devour him that's just as strong as the heat pooling in your center.

His neck, his huge pecs – you like to bite those, just around the areola – his relaxed but still bulky biceps, his torso. You keep going like this for a couple of minutes, taking your time with each kiss and bite—until you see the peak of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Like the apex predator that he is, in the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you into a real kiss. Morning breath and all. His chipped lips clash with your softer ones. He's devouring you, not letting you catch your breath.

Next thing you know, you're naked, and he's on top of you, slapping his thick, hard cock on your puffy, hot lips and clit. He looks down, where your genitals are touching, and you can clearly hear his throat emit a guttural sound. He nudges his forehead into the space between your neck and shoulder, only to mumble with a low and drowsy voice:

"Already so wet for me in the morning… Sweet."

And then, without any other warning beside his slick tip rubbing into your entrace, he swiftly buries his large member inside of your heat. Your erratic breath is captured by his mouth, and he kisses and fucks you at the same time, keeping a steady and hard rhythm—just the one he knows you like best after not seeing each other for such a long time.

You come louder than usual, without even needing to touch your clit. Once, twice, three times—until you're so tired your eyelids start to lower and then snap open, only to go down a second time. At one point, your arms and thighs aren't able to hold onto his back muscles anymore, and you just… let go: floating into the pleasure, like a free fall. That's how safe you feel with him. He could do anything he wanted to your body, because you know – just like you know that the sky is blue – that he will always take your pleasure into account first and foremost. Because, that's just how he is, how he has always been with you—from day one.

You fall asleep in his arms, again. He's keeping you in his possessive embrace while still fucking you, as if hearing your soft, tired moans and your walls tightening around his cock were his only reason to live another day. As if loving you and your body were his duty.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #writers on tumblr #simon riley x you #simon x y/n #x y/n #y/n #fanfiction #mine #do not repost to other sites #do not add your writing ideas #my edit

[pomplalamoose]

Ooohhh how about different eras of luke (ROTJ is my fav if doing one is easier) and maybe some modern dilf!luke 👀 reacting to you laying your head on his shoulder when you’re tired or have a headache pre-relationship?

Anonnn, you don't understand, I'm obsessed with this ask. I just HAD to do every single Luke era plus the Dilf AU as the cherry on top because it's been so long since I last wrote something wholesome😩

also it reminds me of the posts I used to do when I first started writing and ngl I'm feeling a little nostalgic

• sweet ANH Luke with his open smile and honest eyes is so easy to approach and befriend, resting your head on his shoulder comes almost naturally

• though unbeknownst to you he'd immediately be on the brink to loose his mind

• already he tends to be a little jittery with nerves whenever you randomly appear in the same room he is in

• even more so now that he's finally admitted his major crush on you to himself

• so just imagine his excitement the moment you decide to sit next to him

• as soon as your head touches his shoulder he goes bright red and doesn't dare to move in fear of accidentally shooing you away, his heart beating wildly in his chest

• for a slight moment he forgets how to breathe, though it's not like he minds

• this is the best day of his life

• not only does he finally get to feel the warmth of having you so close by his side, but also your soft hair aginst his cheek if he dares to tilt his head just a little bit

• when eventually he manages to somewhat normalize his breathing, his thoughts will start to wander

• he's SO proud you're clearly comfortable and feeling safe with him

• but should he strike up a conversation? Ask how you're doing? If everything's okay?

• maybe he could make you laugh

• your hands look so soft; what if he were to reach out and just take them in his?

• would you mind?

• he's not sure, his aren't as pretty and smooth as yours

• you smell very nice

• wouldn't your current position make you look like a couple to an outsider passing by?

• what if, and he feels very bold just considering, but, what if you...like him?

• quickly enough he has a very hard time remaining calm

• and how could he? He needs to tell someone about this RIGHT NOW

• good luck trying to catch ESB Luke sitting still for even once

• though should you be as lucky to catch him during a moment of rest and manage to lean on him, he'll feel similarly as ANH Luke; excited, a little nervous even, though not as much as his younger self would have been

• still he has to fight off the blush rising into his cheeks and will absolutely deny ever changing colors should someone (especially Leia, Han or even R2) point it out

• at the same time he wishes for as many as possible to witness this very monumental moment, hoping everyone will see that you're leaning on HIS shoulder

• HIS!

• yeah that's right! In your face, (add in name of random rebellion member that also takes an interest in you)!!!

• if he's feeling extra bold, he may use the chance to put an arm around your shoulder

• but very carefully so; he's afraid to overstep any of your boundaries

• after all he's not sure if you'd even like to be held

• there's only one problem: how is he supposed to do anything now?

• he has places to be, things to do, an Empire to fight!

• he's getting kind of warm too

• more than that actually

• Force, are you hiding a heater under all of your layers of clothing?

• also he just remembered; isn't there a meeting he has to attend?

• shouldn't he be working to improve his x-wing?

• he'll check on you out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a feeling for how long you plan to stay like this

• he needs to come up with a way to notify the others of his delay

• because there's no way he's moving even a single muscle

• he's not leaving you behind

• he simply can't!

• not when he was just chosen as your designated spot to rest your pretty but, admittedly, very heavy head

• but not to worry, of course he can handle it!

• he'll be here as long as you need him to be

• RotJ and post RotJ Luke is hard to keep tabs on and thus hard to find

• all you can hope for is to encounter him by pure chance, as he seems to simply have evaporated whenever you wander around searching for him

• though despite his withdrawn ways he's always welcoming and inviting should you happen upon him

• he, above anyone else, understands the importance of rest during a busy day

• he smiles mildly to himself as soon as you settle down and scoot close enough for your arms to touch

• the emotions you are unconsciously emitting, may it be nervousness, excitement or shyness, amuse him a great deal and he's keen to see whether you'll overcome them this time or not

• I don't think he'd tell you outright that he enjoys your presence, that it tends to calm him down and to ease his mind, until much later

• but despite what he is or isn't saying he can't help but feel a little warm inside whenever you come across him during the day

• despite that he can never not worry at least a little bit about your well-being and immediately feels the need to check in on you either with words or a gentle probe with the Force to make sure you're okay

• if he has the time to stay with you for a while he asks if you'd like to lay down

• see, he can shuffle to the side a little and then you could rest your head on his thigh instead of on his shoulder

• wouldn't that be more comfortable?

• he doesn't have a blanket in case you're cold, but maybe you could use his cloak?

• it's not the best, maybe a little rough and still a little dirty from his last trip as he didn't have the time to wash it yet, but it does a good job of keeping a person warm

• he doesn't show how happy he is should you follow his invite and agree to rest beside him, though maybe Leia would notice

• and possibly so would you by how he'd start to absentmindedly stroke your head and play with your hair whenever others are around to keep him properly distracted

• I think Dilf!Luke's reaction would really depend on the current situation/ on how far your relationship has already developed at that point

• here it's important to note though that he'd never tell you off or send you away for initiating contact, not even after just recently getting to know you

• yes he's standoffish and withdrawn, cold in demeanor, seemingly displeased with your presence in his house

• but when it comes down to it he is kind, always has been, even if he hides it away to protect himself

• his behavior towards you is nothing personal; the emotions you call forth are his to deal with

• he may try to at first but ultimately knows deep down that he can't hold you accountable for how his past still troubles him

• he's a father, deeply caring in nature

• no matter what, he could never bring himself to deny anyone his child's age comfort

• though he might be a little confused about why you chose him, of all people, to rest your head on

• after all it's not like he's been going out of his way to be peculiarly inviting or nice - quite the contrary actually

• he'll remain very still for the duration of your vicinity, involuntarily stiffening not only out of surprise but because it's been so long that anyone outside of his immediate family initiated intimacy

• he's so touch starved, so used to rarely feeling a person's warmth, that your simple act catches him off guard

• suddenly he has no idea what to do, how to continue on after

• for your own good and his child's sake he wants to keep you at an arm's length and yet...

• if he wasn't enamored with you before, he is so now

• he thinks back to those moments of doubt and insecurity frequently

• but where they once haunted him, they now serve as a reminder for how far he's come and what he was able to finally leave behind

• he's proud of himself too, yes, but most of all to call you his

• every little touch of yours, and may it be one as innocent as laying your head on his shoulder, fills him with joy

• never, in a thousand years, would he once have believed to be in a position to reciprocate your gentle displays of trust and affection

• but now that he can, now that everything feels a little less like a dream, it's all he wants to do

• (and he does)

• (forehead kisses are his favorite way to, he can't help it)

• (not when you placed yourself so conveniently)

#ask #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke star wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars headcanons #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #dilf luke #dilf luke skywalker #star wars au

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities

Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities

Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.

Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.

One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.

All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.

There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.

It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.

“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.

“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”

“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.

Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.

The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.

“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.

Parker loved it, in a weird way.

Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.

It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.

But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.

Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.

Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.

His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?

Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.

Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?

The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.

Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.

Perhaps just a fluke?

The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.

Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.

It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.

The lights flickered again.

It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.

Was there something wrong with the plug?

Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.

It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.

It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.

He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.

He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.

“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.

“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.

“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”

“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.

Still nothing.

“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.

Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.

This one wasn’t solved yet.

For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He had had enough.

Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.

He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.

The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.

Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.

As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.

But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.

He decided to risk it.

It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.

There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.

It felt natural.

The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.

What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.

Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.

The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.

The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.

His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.

Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.

As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.

It was a drill bit.

Flat head.

It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?

I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?

Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.

His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.

Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?

It didn’t seem like her.

Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.

With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.

The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.

It felt, in a word, familiar.

But why?

Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.

What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.

There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.

Was this something his mom did?

Or was this some kind of construction mark?

What was this?

What did it mean?

The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.

There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.

But why?

Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.

Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.

His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.

Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?

Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.

First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

#borrower #g/t #g/t community #borrowers #giant/tiny #handheld #giant tiny #tiny #giant #gianttiny #the borrowers #gt community #gentle giant #My Borrowed son #gt fluff #sfw gt #sfw #sfw g/t #sfw giant/tiny #Parker #g/t concept #g/t comfort #g/t characters #g/t writing #g/t fluff #size difference #g/t idea #g/t interaction #g/t author #g/t angst

[mrsparrasblog]

Seducing Price

Okay so this is like a excerpt from my very first ff Nigtmares become true solider, I think this fanfic is to big to post on Tumblr, but I still wanted to post at least one of my favorite scenes from it.

Pairing: John Price x Reader ( I perspective tho, Readers callsign is Sunshine)

TW: Oralsex, seduction, Cum play , body worship , John Price on his knees for you

I went to the training center; my training uniform was in the washer, and I just hoped I didn't have some rookies who barely finished their puberty in the hall since I put on just a green sports bra and yoga leggings that hugged every curve of my body—leaving absolutely no place for imagination.

To my surprise, John was in the gym lifting weights, only wearing a tight compression shirt and grey sweatpants—oh no. I smiled and greeted him.

"No one's here, lovely. You can greet me properly." He pressed me against his sweaty body, kissing me with pure passion.

"Training your arms today?"

"Full body," he smirked, flexing his arm muscles. I giggled at this act—behind all this Captain exterior, he was just a man.

"How much do you lift?"

"250 lbs. What are you training today, lovely?" I swallowed hard; that explains a lot.

"Just some flexibility and stretching."

"Like yoga?" his voice sounded hoarse.

"Yes."

"Explains the outfit."

"You don't like it?" I asked him teasingly.

"A bit distracting." I gave him another kiss and went to a corner where I started to go into the downward-facing dog, wiggling my ass in John's direction.

"Sun," he said, scolding me while pushing the weight to the side.

"What?"

"Stop being a tease."

"I'm not a tease."

"You are."

I rolled my eyes and went to another position, John's eyes still lingering on me. He pulled the heavy weights, groaning deep, his hoarse voice only sounding more extreme. Now he is being a tease. But two can play that game.

"Can you spot me, love? I want to try a bit more on the bench press."

"Of course." We danced around each other for hours in the gym, teasing each other, sharing hidden touches when someone was near. When a rookie came in and tried to flirt with me; the jealousy in John's eyes was immaculate.

"You behaved nice, John," I chuckled.

"Wanted to rip that muppet apart." I went over to John, pressing my hand against his chest while he sat down, my legs fiddling between his spread legs.

"A bit close, love."

"Do you mind?"

"A bit."

"John, can you help me with sparring?" I asked him nicely.

"Oh lovely, you don't know what you're asking."

We began to spar, and to my surprise, he didn't take it easy on me. He didn't underestimate me like Soap and Kyle do; he didn't make dumb mistakes, and so I landed on my ass every time.

"If you wanted to bruise my ass, you could have just asked."

"Fucking minx."

He pinned me down, his knee pressing into my thighs a bit too close to my sweet spot, earning a little moan. He let go of me, looking at me like I'm crazy, so I pinned him down and sat down on his lap, pressing my hips against his erection, while leaning down to kiss him. He grabbed my ass and deepened that kiss before pinning me down and standing up. He helped me up, and I thought he would initiate something, but he didn't.

After the spare, he went away quickly, leaving me alone and flustered in the training center. I was weighing my options. I could go into my room and take care of the problem for myself, or I could just take a cold relaxing shower.

I grabbed a bikini from my room, towels, and my favorite shower products and went to the community shower stalls, hoping I would still catch him there.

I went down and removed my clothes, the sound of water falling against the stall, made me hope John was there. I went with my bikini for the sake of catching anyone else than John there.

But there he stood completely naked under the shower; his brown hair was black and damp because of the water; he was muscular like I thought, but not lean like Kyle or Keegan; he had these thick, delicious muscles. His dog tags clung around his chest, and his chest was covered with hair, making him look more masculine than I could take.

My eyes wandered down. He had a prominent V line and a fucking happy trail that made me rethink my complete life choices. It was followed by soft black curls between his thighs. and the most beautiful dick I ever saw.

I always laughed at people who said they were beautiful, but wow, I just wanted to kneel in front of him and suck him dry. He was big, maybe not the longest I had, but definitely the thickest I ever had, with prominent veins and a red inviting tip. He wasn't circumstanced, which only added to his appeal. I planned to seduce him, not the other way around.

"Sun, what are you doing here? This is the man's shower room."

"Community shower, "I corrected him, sneaky.

"No, you have a room with a shower because you are the only woman on base."

"But it's bonding to share a shower with your comrades."

"If you take a shower with Soap-"

"I won't do it; I don't want them to be hurt."

"Sun-"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Fuck"

"Something wrong?"

"Anyone could walk in here."

"Is that a problem for you when someone else sees me like this? I'm pretty covered up."

"For how long?"

I slowly started to remove my bikini top, freeing my breasts from the tiny fabric, my nipples already hardening under the friction of the water. Then I removed my bikini thong, throwing it in John's direction, who caught it with ease and couldn't stop staring down at my naked body like a predator who saw his prey.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "To be caught like this, your cunt wrapped around my cock?"

"No, sir, I only want to take a shower in peace," I said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Then stop teasing me," he growled, pulling me against him. His cock pressed against my stomach. "You've been teasing me the whole day, and now you're even walking in my shower."

"I'm not teasing you, sir."

"You fucking are," he snapped, losing his patience. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back roughly, forcing me to look into his blue eyes. "I've been hard for you all day," he whispered fiercely. 

"You say it like it's a bad thing; it's natural, you know."

"It's not," he groaned. "It's fucking heaven." He pushed me against the shower wall, pinning me there with his body. His cock rubbed against me, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum on my skin. "You're making me lose my control, love."

"Why don't you give me what I want, John?"

His eyes flared hotter than a blowtorch at the thought of giving in to me. He knew exactly what I wanted. "Because for once I want to make it right, I do not want you to think I only want to fuck you."

"John please" He couldn't resist my pleas any longer. He lifted my leg and wrapped them around his waist, positioning himself at my entrance. He looked into my eyes, seeing the need and desire burning there. "You want this?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. 

"Yes, John, I want you."

"Fuck, lovely, you make me lose any self-control."

"John, I know you want more than just sex; you do not need to prove anything to me."

"You're wrong," he growled, his eyes burning with passion. "I don't need to prove anything to you. But goddammit, I want to show you how much I fucking adore you." He lets me go and get back on the ground, trying his hardest not to just take me right now. He started to shower normally again as if nothing had happened between us.

I slowly started to soap up my body, putting the soap over my hard nipples and releasing a soft moan as my shower gel fell to the ground by accident. Of course, I bent over. Picking it up revealing a perfect sight of my glistering cunt to him.

John couldn't help but stare at my ass as I bent over, his cock twitching with desire. He forced himself to turn around and grab a towel, drying off his body fast as he tried to regain some semblance of control. 

"Why are you already leaving, John?"

John turned around slowly, his eyes burning with raw passion. "Because I'm trying to be the man you deserve," he growled, "and that means controlling this damn cock of mine." He pulled me into his embrace, his erection pressing against my stomach.

"You are the man I deserve, John; you've always been the one I want."

"Say that again, lovely," he groaned, kissing me deeply. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my ass and pulling me even closer. He broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes, his own filled with desire and love. 

I wrapped my arms around him and deepened the kiss.

"God, you taste so fucking good," he murmured against my lips before trailing kisses down my neck and collarbone. His hands slowly roamed over my boobs, caressing them and slowly planting kisses on them. He spent a bit too much time sucking on my nipples; this man surely had an oral fixation. 

I moaned softly as he stimulated my breasts. Johns's fingers traced delicate patterns on my stomach, making their way lower toward my soaked mound. His breath hitched as he finally found what he was looking for: my wet, swollen clit. "You're so fucking beautiful, the most beautiful woman on earth, do you know that?"

"Mhm, John, please."

"Your beautiful eyes, your smooth skin, and those gorgeous tits that fill my hands so perfectly," he whispered before teasing my clit with his thumb. "I want to devour you whole." 

"Stop it. You make me crazy, John," I whined. 

"I never stop complimenting you, especially when you're getting so flustered easily." He slowly starts to press one of his thick fingers into my puffy hole.  But I wanted him to feel good, so I removed John Fingers from my sweet spot and fell on my knees for him, wanting to suck him off. 

"What are you doing, lovely?" He lifted me from my knees. "You never been with a real men before? You always come first." With that, he pinned me against the shower and started to spread my lips again. "Didn't Keegan take care of your sweet cunt properly, always leaving you unsatisfied?" He circled his thumb on my clit while slowly pressing his thick fingers into my pleading hole again.

"John," I moaned his name; it felt so fucking good. His calloused fingers only added to the friction.

"That's it, lovely; scream my name." His voice was deep and husky as he began to pump his fingers in and out of my tight, wet hole. His thumb continued to rub my clit in circles, driving me wild with pleasure. "so fucking tight."

"John, please, I'm close." I felt embarrassed at how fast he got me to my height.

"Cum for Daddy, my beautiful Sun," he growled, kissing my neck. "Show me how much you love it." His fingers moved faster, pressing deeper as he teased my clit harder. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go". John held me tight, his hands pressing firmly against my hips as I rode out my orgasm.  When my body relaxed beneath him, he pulled his fingers out of my slick pussy and gently kissed my neck. "That's my good girl," He licked my juices from his finger, moaning in pleasure. 

"Can you give me a second one, lovely?"

I nodded slowly, completely drunk from my high.

"Good girl." He pushed my legs apart again and knelt in front of me. I never had a man who fucking kneeled in front of me; it had something alluring, especially when he was my fucking superior. He planted kisses on my thighs, leaving love bites on them marking his territory. John started to lick my sensitive lips, his tongue darting in and out of my hole, teasing my entrance. 

"God, you taste like scotch feels."

"What?"

"Addicting, burning, and fucking exquisite." He had his things with words, making me clench around him all the time when he said the sweetest praises as if I were a goddess to him.

His other hand went to my clit, rubbing it gently before starting to pinch it between his fingers.

I pulled on his wet hair, pressing his tongue only further into my throbbing hole, his beard giving me sensations I never felt in his life, always coming close to my clit making me flinch from passion and pain at the same time.

"You like that, huh?" He chuckled against my flesh, loving the way I moaned and bucked beneath him. "You want more, don't you?" He continued to lick and suck on my clit while pinching it gently with his fingers.

I whined and shook and was barely able to stand straight. He held me in place, supporting my body weight and making me feel safe as he ate me out like a starved man. He licked every drop of me, not letting one sip of my delicious nectar go to waste. His moans vibrated against my clit and I asked myself if he enjoyed it even more than I did. 

"That's it, my sweet girl," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. "Cum for me again." His fingers slid deeper into my pussy, curling to find that perfect spot inside me.

"Oh my god, John." With a final flick of his tongue, I came hard, my juices running along his tongue, and he took them greedily, his tongue lapping up every last drop. He groaned as he felt my walls clenching around his fingers inside me. When I finally stopped shaking, he pulled away and grinned, "That was fucking fantastic; taste so divine almost made me cum from just your taste."

His beard was full of me, and his blue eyes still looked hungry at me. I wanted to return the favor so much; he just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I slowly moved my hand to his throbbing length. John let out a moan as he felt my hand on his length. "Oh, fuck, Sun," he still removed my Hand.

"Give me one more orgasm, and you can have my cock all you want, sweet girl," he said, looking at me with a serious expression. 

"But John," I whined. I wasn't sure if I could take another one.

"No, but John, you asked for this, remember?" His fingers found their way again to my overstimulated clit.

"John"

He continued to tease me, circling my clit with his fingers as he leaned down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Mhm, please, too much, John."

"You can barely take it, can you?" He chuckled around, biting down on my nipple. "Just one more push and I'll give you what you want." He moved his fingers a little faster, his thumb pressing harder against my clit.

I shook under him, completely senseless and overstimulated. "That's it, my beautiful girl," he whispered. "Let go and cum for me." His thumb flicked over my clit as his fingers pumped into me.

"Almost there, I'm so proud of you," he moaned, my inner walls clenching around his fingers. "So tight, so fucking good." He thrust his fingers in and out of me faster, his thumb circling in tight circles.

"I'm going to cum John." From my face fell happy tears. God, am I crying? 

His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Let go, love; I've got you." He pressed his thumb more firmly against my clit and started a firm rhythm with his fingers inside me pressing against my G-spot. "Cum for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you shake with pleasure."

I came screaming his name; the whole base probably heard this - my juices are spilling over his hand. His mouth left my nipple to capture the sweet sounds of my pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned, "you're so beautiful when you cum." He went down on his knees and started licking me clean.

"John, what are you doing?"

"I want to taste you," he murmured against my skin, his tongue swirling around my folds. He pushed two fingers back inside of me and started a slow rhythm as he licked and sucked on my abused clit. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I thought you said only three." I whined; I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't he be more selfish?

"I lied," he said with a wicked grin. "But only because I want you to cum again." He continued to finger me while his mouth worked on my clit, determined to make me come once more. "I can't help myself; you taste fucking divine."

I was so overstimulated that I came in Seconds. He was pleased with my response, his arousal growing as he tasted my sweet nectar. "Fuck, Sun," he groaned against my skin. "You're so fucking responsive." He slowly pulled away, his fingers leaving me feeling empty.

"Let me take care of you now, John, please."

He helped me down on my knees. "Tell me if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?" 

"Please," I whispered as I wrapped my warm, soft lips around him, taking him deep into my mouth. I removed my lips from him and started to lick the precum away from his slit, tracing down his cockhead and kissing the veins on his cock. "The most beautiful dick I've ever seen."

John's breath caught in his throat at my words. He groaned lowly as I licked him clean and kissed his cock. "Fuck," he gasped, "you're going to drive me insane."

I just smiled and continued to worship his dick with small kisses. He reached down and gently guided my head, urging me to take more of him into my mouth. He couldn't believe the feelings coursing through him; the desire to feel my lips wrapped around his cock was almost overwhelming. "Goddamn," he whispered, "

I heard his plead and took him deeper almost completely, my nose tickling against his curls. John's hips began to thrust gently into my mouth, his hands tangling in my hair. "Fuck, love," he moaned, "you were made for this." He got closer and closer to the edge, his cock throbbing in my warm, wet mouth.

I bobbed my head up and down while playing with his full balls, squeezing them a bit. John groaned loudly, arching his back as he pushed deeper into my mouth. "Shit," he panted, "you're amazing." I fastened my pace, taking everything He gave me while gaging a bit because of His massive thickness.

He could feel me gagging on him, and it visibly only turned him on more. "Take it, love," he growled, "take every fucking inch." He thrust harder into my mouth, his pubic hair tickling against my face. He gripped my hair eagerly, not trying to hurt me but guiding me as he fucked my face. "Can I cum inside your throat, lovely?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"Good girl," Price whispered before grabbing my face roughly. "Look at me when I cum." He groaned as I felt his cock pulsing, thick streams of cum shooting out into my throat. I looked at him with pure admiration and tried to swallow every sip of his cum as if it was the most delicious thing I had in my whole life. His cum was, in comparison, good, not salty; it tasted rich and bitter. 

His hips were bucking wildly. "Fuck, Sun," he moaned, "you're incredible."

After his orgasm, I removed my lips with a loud pop, and then I started to lick the remaining cum drops of his dick while moaning. John's eyes fluttered shut as he felt my tongue swipe over his cock, savoring every last drop of his cum. "God, Sun," he breathed out, "you did so good for me, beautiful girl." His eyes softened with pure admiration. 

He helped my wobbly legs up, drying and cleaning me up under the shower. It felt magical as he massaged the shampoo into my hair and washed my hair; it had such a romantic feeling that I felt truly worshiped. I put the body wash on his chest, playing with his hair, and looking at his scars, kissing them down. "Oh, love," he smiled, and I giggled, putting my head against his chest, and he wrapped me in a big bear hug. 

"John? I want more." He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me. 

"More?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to fuck you?" His voice was low and husky, filled with desire.

"yes " 

John smiled slowly. "Oh, love, I want nothing more, but I want to make it right, okay? After our third date, okay? It will be perfect, I swear, and I will show you how a man makes love to the woman he truly desires" He kissed my forehead. He was one of the guys to say make love, and a giggle escaped my mouth. I kind of liked it.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic."

John chuckled softly. "You know me better than that. But when it comes to you, I want it to be right. Our third date, agreed?" He wrapped the towel around his waist, pulling me close.

"Can we at least cuddle?"

"Of course, your room or mine?"

"yours"

"Perfect love." He helped me put on my yoga pants on my wet skin.

"And how do we get out without someone noticing?"

"I think after you screamed like this, it's too late with the descrition."

"Shut up, John!" He kissed me, while caressing my face with his thumb. He was so different from his Captain exterior, almost vulnerable around me.

We left the shower, trying not to draw any attention, and we didn't. Well, until the tall frame of Simon appeared next to us, showing us a death glare through his mask, but not saying a word since John was his superior.

His room was a bit bigger than mine and a lot cleaner, almost sterile, between some pictures and books. It smelled like tobacco and vanilla, and I could get used to that scent. He lay down on the bed, and I removed his shirt.

"I thought only to cuddle."

"I just want to steal your shirt; it smells so good."

"But then I do not have a shirt," he chuckled.

"Well, who cares? It looks better on me anyway."

"I suppose it does." He handed me his shirt, watching as I put it on. The fabric clung to my curves; the shirt was a bit too big, fitting me like a dress.

"You are beautiful," he said.

"You spoil me rotten with your compliments."

John leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. "I can't help it," he whispered against my skin. "You deserve to be spoiled." He trailed more kisses down my neck and collarbone before nipping at my earlobe playfully and hugging me tightly, almost manhandling me with his sheer size.

"My legs are sore because of you. If you make me run tomorrow in training, I'll die." Maybe this was my free-of-running card."

He pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, maybe I'll make sure to take it easy on you tomorrow." He grinned wickedly, knowing full well that he would likely push me to my limits.

"You never take it easy on anyone."

He laughed, leaning in to kiss my nose. "That's because I never want anyone slacking off. But I promise, I'll make sure you can keep up." He smirked.

"Mhm, maybe you give my thighs a massage; it would make me happy."

Price raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, amused. "You want me to massage your thighs? Consider it done." He sat up and reached for my legs, starting to knead the muscles gently. I rubbed his hair gently while he massaged my thighs, and after he placed his head on them, cuddling with the soft flesh, both of us fell asleep.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #captain john price #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #call of duty #john price #smut #john price drabble #captain price #price cod #john price cod #price #price x reader #141 #cod fic #captain john price smut #captain johnathan price #john price x reader

[tragedybunny]

Pretty Baby 2

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat

༺Word Count༻ 3783

༺A/N༻

So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin

The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.

Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper

Read On AO3 Chapter 1

“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 

Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 

I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.

He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.

Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries

The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 

We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 

“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 

Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.

“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 

The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 

“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  

Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 

Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.

And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.

“Fuck,” he whines the word. 

Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight

I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 

The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”

He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 

“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.

Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 

He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 

“Good baby. Almost done.” 

He tenses. “But...”

“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 

I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 

KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 

It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 

Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 

Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.

Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.

I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”

Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 

“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 

He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”

He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 

For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”

“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 

“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 

“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 

“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”

“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 

“Still going to miss you, though.” 

“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 

“Call me when you land, Fina.” 

I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.

We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 

The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 

To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 

Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 

Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 

“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 

He’s such a filthy little tease. 

Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight

He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 

Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down

Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 

Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 

His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 

The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”

“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”

We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 

“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”

I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 

I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 

He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.

BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 

He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”

Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 

It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 

I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 

Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 

Mommy: I hope that was worth it 

His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 

The stream dies just as he starts calling me.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.

“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”

“Please, I just…” 

“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”

 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”

I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”

We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  

There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 

When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 

“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 

“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”

“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”

“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 

He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 

“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 

“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”

“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 

“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 

“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 

I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 

“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 

“Alright, baby.” 

I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 

Relatively vanilla, he said.

“Come here.” 

I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”

He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 

“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 

He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.

After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.

We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  

And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.

“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 

He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 

“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 

DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy

Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 

Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 

“You’re being so good,” I coo.

He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.

“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”

l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.

“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 

He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 

I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 

He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 

“Please,” he begs, desperately. 

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Mommy.” 

I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 

I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 

I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 

Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.

SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)

Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 

Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.

“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 

I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 

We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 tav #tav #astarion x tav #my fanfic #my writing #modern au

[jennyboom21]

In 2023 actor Sophia Bush made headlines when she filed for divorce one year after a storybook wedding. By the fall it was public knowledge that she was in a new relationship. With a woman. The internet seemed to be foaming at the digital mouth for a scandal, but to those who knew her, it was clear she’d never been more herself. Here, in her own words, Bush speaks to the power of finally learning to listen to her intuition.

In April of 2022 I was close to calling off my wedding. Instead of running away, I doubled down on being a model wife. In 2023 my now ex-husband posted a lovely tribute to our first anniversary on Instagram. When I saw it, I felt the blood drain from my face. Fans and friends were telling me how exciting this milestone was and how happy I looked. I felt nothing. Things hadn’t been easy at home, but everyone says marriage is hard, right? As the day wore on, I felt mounting pressure from strangers online waiting for me to post something—what a strange part of public life to have to navigate—so I sat myself down and chose a picture.

It was a black-and-white photograph of us running away from the camera. Yes, I see the bittersweet irony now. I wrote a really nice story about the people in that picture. Except it was just that: a story. I typed something about how incredibly happy I was and tried to drown out the familiar voice in my head. Make it look easy. Make it look perfect. If your smile is shiny enough, maybe no one will notice that up close all of your teeth are broken. But sometimes broken is just broken.

I hit post. And then I walked into the bathroom and threw up.

I believe in people and ideas so deeply—and those feelings are often so powerful to me—that I hadn’t realized I’d spent the last two decades moving through life showing up for others but often turning my back on myself. This time things felt different. Maybe it’s just cold feet, I told myself. Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe this was the feeling you get when you settle down later in life and have to make space for another person. There have been moments in my life when it feels like the universe is screaming at me to pay attention. This was one of them, but I didn’t listen.

I kept repeating the adages we all know so well: Relationships are hard. Marriage takes compromise. You know the rest. And so I got married. We threw one of the greatest wedding weekends ever. We had an amazing time with our closest friends and family. It was truly one of the best parties I’ve ever been to, and we raised a ton of money for charity. I don’t regret any of that.

But after the wedding I found myself in the depths and heartbreak of the fertility process, which was the most clarifying experience of my life. It feels like society is finally making space for brutally honest conversations about how hard and painful any fertility journey is, but I kept mine private. I was trying to get through months of endless ultrasounds, hormone shots, so many blood draws that I have scar tissue in my veins, and retrieval after retrieval, while simultaneously realizing the person I had chosen to be my partner didn’t necessarily speak the same emotional language I did.

As I lost track of how many examination tables I had lain on alone, I felt something in me seismically shift. Six months into that journey, I think I knew deep down that I absolutely had made a mistake. It would take my head and heart a while longer to understand what my bones already knew.

And that’s why, when I got an opportunity to do a play in London, I had to go. I had to get out of our house. I had to get onstage. I had to get back in my body. Maybe that could shift things. Maybe that would jump-start the joy I’d been chasing. The play slowly began to put me back together. It was grueling, and it was also the most exhilarating experience. I loved every second of it.

But the book doesn’t lie. The body does, in fact, keep the score. When half of our company went down with a virus, everyone recovered fast except for me. I continued to decline. I would put every fiber of my being into my performance onstage, and then be packed in bags of ice as soon as the curtain closed. I spent multiple nights in the hospital, I was pumped with endless amounts of fluids, I underwent cardiac testing and organ monitoring. It was clear that my body was screaming and I had to listen. It was hard for me to accept. I was part of a team. But I needed to go home, where my doctors (and, truthfully, my health insurance) could get a better handle on my symptoms. My time in London was over. So was my marriage. It all came crashing down at once.

During the summer of 2023, I moved back into my empty home in LA. I was separated and preparing to file for divorce, and groups of women in my life started opening up about issues they were going through in their own homes. It seemed like every week there were more of us, including [former US soccer player] Ashlyn [Harris], whom I’d first met in 2019 and who was in the process of figuring out her own split from her wife. She’d been such a kind ear for those of us who opened up about our problems during a shared weekend of speaking engagements at a fancy conference in Cannes, and soon it became clear that she needed our ears too.

For those of us who had no solution in sight or Hail Marys left, having this community changed everything. We really wrapped one another up in support. It was tragic and hard. But it was also beautiful. There were moments of incredible sadness because no one signs up to get married thinking it’ll end. The days when we knew people needed to laugh, we sent inspirational memes and silly TikToks. We read books written by great therapists and shared emo quotes from poets. Our “Begin Again” Amazon shopping list, which we created for the ones moving out and starting over, has now been forwarded to so many other women.

I didn’t expect to find love in this support system. I don’t know how else to say it other than: I didn’t see it until I saw it. And I think it’s very easy not to see something that’s been in front of your face for a long time when you’d never looked at it as an option and you had never been looked at as an option. What I saw was a friend with her big, happy life. And now I know she thought the same thing about me.

It really took other people in our safe support bubble pointing out to me how we’d finish each other’s sentences or be deeply affected by the same things. When you’re so in the trenches of hardship—plus you have the added weight of having to go through it on a public stage—it can be hard to see anything but what’s right in front of you.

It took me confronting a lot of things, what felt like countless sessions of therapy, and some prodding from loved ones, but eventually I asked Ashlyn to have a non-friend-group hang to talk about it.

And that meal was four and a half hours long and truly one of the most surreal experiences of my life thus far. In hindsight, maybe it all had to happen slowly and then suddenly all at once. Maybe it was all fated. Maybe it really is a version of invisible string theory. I don’t really know. But I do know that for a sparkly moment I felt like maybe the universe had been conspiring for me. And that feeling that I have in my bones is one I’ll hold on to no matter where things go from here.

But there was a lot that quickly turned ugly too. People looking in from the outside weren’t privy to just how much time it took, how many painful conversations were had. A lot of effort was made to be graceful with other people’s processing, their time and obligations, and their feelings. What felt like seconds after I started to see what was in front of me, the online rumor mill began to spit in the ugliest ways. There were blatant lies. Violent threats. There were accusations of being a home-wrecker. The ones who said I’d left my ex because I suddenly realized I wanted to be with women—my partners have known what I’m into for as long as I have (so that’s not it, y’all, sorry!).

The idea that I left my marriage based on some hysterical rendezvous—that, to be crystal-clear, never happened—rather than having taken over a year to do the most soul crushing work of my life? Rather than realizing I had to be the most vulnerable I’ve ever been, on a public stage, despite being terrified to my core? It feels brutal. Just because I didn’t want to process my realizations in real time on social media and spell them out for the world doesn’t mean the journey wasn’t long and thoughtful and exhaustive.

It’s painful to be doing deep work and have it picked apart by clueless strangers. Everyone that matters to me knows what’s true and what isn’t. But even still there’s a part of me that’s a ferocious defender, who wants to correct the record piece by piece. But my better self, with her earned patience, has to sit back and ask, What’s the fucking point? For who? For internet trolls? No, thank you. I’ll spend my precious time doing things I love instead.

I don’t believe it’s my place to discuss details of Ashlyn’s circumstances or her children, but I will say that I am absolutely in awe of her relentless integrity. The way she prioritizes and centers her kids, not only in her life but in the core of her being, is breathtaking to behold. Falling in love with her has sutured some of my own childhood wounds, and made me so much closer to my own mother. Seeing Ashlyn choose to not simply survive, but thrive, for her babies has been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed a friend do. And now I get to love her. How lucky am I?

I sort of hate the notion of having to come out in 2024. But I’m deeply aware that we are having this conversation in a year when we’re seeing the most aggressive attacks on the LGBTQIA+ community in modern history. There were more than 500 anti-LGBTQIA+ bills proposed in state legislatures in 2023, so for that reason I want to give the act of coming out the respect and honor it deserves. I’ve experienced so much safety, respect, and love in the queer community, as an ally all of my life, that, as I came into myself, I already felt it was my home. I think I’ve always known that my sexuality exists on a spectrum. Right now I think the word that best defines it is queer. I can’t say it without smiling, actually. And that feels pretty great.

Would I have liked to make the public part of this journey a choice for myself, and not have it taken from my lips and set ablaze by gossip blogs and bottom-feeder online bots? Of course. I’m very aware, though, as we discuss bullying and harassment and being outed without consent—that I’m incredibly lucky this happened in my adulthood. I really love who I am, at this age and in this moment. I’m so lucky that my parents, having spent time with Ash over the holidays, said, “Well, this finally looks right.” I know it could have gone differently.

We’ve all learned about kids who have taken their own life after being outed or who have been killed simply for being who they are in a place or time that is threatened by their expressed joy. I am so lucky to be here, now. I have real joy. It took me 41 years to get here. And while I marvel at it, I will also make space for people’s pain. But I will not carry anyone’s projected shame. When I take stock of the last few years, I can tell you that I have never operated out of more integrity in my life. I hope that’s clear enough for everyone speculating out there, while being as gentle as I possibly can be.

After the news became public, my mom told me that one of her friends called her and said, “Well, this can’t be true. I mean, your daughter isn’t gay.” My mom felt that it was obvious, from the way her friend emphasized the word, that she meant it judgmentally. And you know what my mom said? “Oh honey, I think she’s pretty gay. And she’s happy.”

I finally feel like I can breathe. I don't think I can explain how profound that is. I feel like I was wearing a weighted vest for who knows how long. I hadn’t realized how heavy it was until I finally just put it down. This might sound crazy—but I think other people in trauma recovery will get it—I am taking deep breaths again. I can feel my legs and feet. I can feel my feet in my shoes right now. It makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time.

It is so, so scary to do the brave thing, to say, “I’m just not happy.” Especially if you’re in a partnership and you have to say it first. But if you do it, you get the chance to be happy. To find your joy. I turned 41 last summer, amid all of this, and I heard the words I was saying to my best friend as they came out of my mouth. “I feel like this is my first birthday,” I told her. This year was my very first birthday.

#sophia bush #her gf is an ass but I’d be hypocrite with any hateration #happy lesbian visibility week #coming out #the celesbians are restless

[emily-e-draws]

catventurers meowlphabet (first half) 😽✨

#catventurers #original #cat art #tabaxi #racing against the clock to see if i can finish the last few before i've posted the ones i've got done LOL #ive painted up to S so if I post one every few days.. and paint one every few days.. i should have some leeway hopefully #it does not even matter i just am overly conscious of how my instagram profile looks #I like doing one of these every other post. it looks nice #and hopefully that way people aren't getting tired of them........ #well w/e people can think what they like cause i love these sm #nothing better than a silly little guy!!! #anyways if you're reading all this thank you #shocked if anyone made it this far i'm just saying nonsense to myself

[disposal-blueeee]

halloween thing i drew for an art trade with @cherry-207 ! she asked for edgar and scri dressed as angel and devil . you can see her part here !

edgar vargas belongs to jhonen vasquez

scriabin belongs to @zarla-s

#hello . uhhhhhhhhhhh #UHHH WAIT WAIT I CAN EXPLAIN I SWEAR #i know i haven't posted a thing since like A MONTH AND I'M SORRY BUT i have a really nice excuse for this . yes . #right after posting devi's drawing my mom BROKE HER FOOT ?? WOAH ! #and idk maybe i was sad or . stressed because i had to do a bunch of things my mom used to take care of and it was really stressing #this + school stuff + a drawing a day + some other things pretty much started killing me #and suddenly i was getting hives every single day after 11.30pm . yeah . it was TERRIBLE #so uh . i had to stop doing some stuff for my own wellbeing . like . drawing . for example #but it worked ! #now i just have a bunch of mosquito bites on my hands . they seem to like them . #OH SO well um YEAH DRAWING #an art trade with one of my friends !!!! drawing this was honestly so fun #as you can see this is from october 25th . but i wanted to wait for brusk to finish her piece before posting it #te quedó precioso emily . valió totalmente la pena la espera . tqm #edgar's costume looked so boring next to scriabin's #he looked way prettier with wings but if i wanted to add them i would have to erase 90% of scriabin and he came out so pretty to do that #so . instead of making him wear something pretty and detailed like scri's costume i had to make him wear something you could see and think #“ oh yeah that's an angel ” #i explained this to brusk after showing her the drawing and she said #“ if you think about it . him having a traditional costume fits his character " #and i was like OH #ACTUALLY YEAH THAT'S COOL #anyways i really like this one . the colors are so pretty . i finally found a way to make my colors warm and pretty . #WELL UH THAT'S TOO MANY TAGS BYE #vargas #zarla s #vargas zarla #scriabin vargas #edgar vargas

[derpinette]

when i exchange a message whether i receive or send one i have to immediately shut off my device & walk some laps for a few minutes to shake off the adrenaline rush

#i try to forget that ever happened so i can relax because otherwise i get heart palpitations & headrush my uterus drops ETC #so i have to stay off of whatever site i just used for like an hour but now i have messages sent+received on every app #i can only escape to yourube & it sucks #also even anonymously i exit out of the thread/tab & ignore that tab for as long as it takes me to forget #& then i check back on the replies hours later or days even despite not ever posting bait i just get nervous #( but not always... خلّي أيامك أحلى ) #currently hamster walking everywhere in my house & it took me a day to reply back ( was too busy agonizing ) #could have been a month like last time. or year like the other two times before. IDK why i even bothered #WHEW #that one screencap i already posted before with the courage the cowardly dog picrel Shockingly not posted by me #but i might as well have i do the exact same thing & when people are nice to me i ride that high for a week if not more #the high i got from crushing it at scribbl with randoms in 2020 i rode for like two years & then the *** livestream in 2022 #i am still riding today & ALWAYS WILL best days of my internet life for Serious look forwards to it annually cured me completely #from suicidal ideation. THANK YOU WOMEN. ^_^

[p5x-theories]

Hey this guy is a native speaker and you can hear him say the names of the new thieves. Yui, Hina Nishimori, Toshiya Sugai, and Miyu Sahara. Idk if he’s speaking 8n Chinese or Japanese but the names sound clear. https://www.youtube.com/live/6fQz402kUg4?si=RId-nY6Gk7ju9RL2 at 40:43

Oh, haha, I was just about to post a link to his stream of the preview livestream, for anyone else who was curious to see it!

He's speaking Japanese, which means his readings of the names (which are written in Japanese) are probably a more accurate guess than what I'm doing with my dictionary, yeah. The kanji characters that Japanese names are usually written with often have multiple ways they can be read, though, and my understanding is that even if you're a native speaker, the first reading of the name that comes to mind may not always be the correct one, in the same way you could misread a name in English because you've heard it pronounced one way, but the person whose name it is pronounces it another way.

Which isn't to say I think he's wrong necessarily! Just that (at least as I understand it as someone learning Japanese) it's still not 100% confirmation those are their canon names, so I'll hold off on calling anything "confirmed" until I hear the names in-game, just to be safe.

(Though, to be clear, I do consider Yui confirmed, since they write that name in English in some cases as well, haha. The above explanation applies to the three names written in Japanese.)

But thanks for sending this in, all the same!

#anonymous #third beta #genuinely always appreciate when you guys find stuff and send it in even if I've already seen it. to be clear #because I *am* going to miss stuff sometimes and it's always nice to know other people are looking around for things too! #as for my obsession with confirming names in-game it's largely that I'm trying to limit how much name confusion goes on on this blog #getting used to calling someone one thing then having to switch (ex the suwa arai -> motoha arai confusion of the first beta) can be troubl #and I know not everyone reads every post I make and keeps up with the game info as much as I do. so basically I just want to keep it simple #and in this case the best way to do that is to avoid using a name until I am absolutely positive it's the canon one! #ruferu is sort of an exception in that that IS his japanese name but it might be something like ruffle or lufer in an english dub #but at least ruferu is *a* correct name for him as opposed to luffy which is speculation/possible mistranslation. you know? #not to write an essay on my reporting philosophy with this blog though haha sorry #bui #riddle #sepia #puppet

[sucrose-soymilk]

hadn’t really regressed in a While and i didn’t realize how much i missed/dareisay needed it until i had the free time and ability to do so over the last few days and i have to say. i’m feeling a bit better

#imagine that! the coping mechanism… helps!!! wow #Seven’s Small Thoughts #not tagging this as anything else bc this blog is really just a not-so-secret public diary #and im not really trying to gain any sort of following or participate in the community very much #i just wanna talk to the void abt regression every once in a blue moon y’know #i also feel like i don’t really belong in the community much/am not a Good Example of sfw agere since i’m very n/ s/ f/ w everywhere else #which is a double standard that i don’t hold others to but i feel like others will hold it against me??? and i’m just shy anyways #and not looking to interact. just wanna keep all this stuff tucked away in a side-blog #i also feel like a lot of the community likes to blog while actively regressed and i don’t wanna step in there as someone who isn’t #nothing wrong with it! at all! i just don’t have the capacity to since i go nonverbal when i regress. no thoughts head blissfully empty #anyways this wasn’t supposed to be a vent post let’s change the topic! #anywhooo what else did i come on here to say. oh yeah #i lowkey forgot how much regressing has helped me in the past until i was able to really indulge myself in it again recently #it’s so nice to just be small and hand someone else the reins and forget abt everything other than doing something you enjoy #maybe one day i’ll be at a point in my life where i can fully regress more freely and more often but for now i’ll take what i can get #i’m also excited because i’ve been thinking abt ordering a paci from this one specific seller #and yesterday saw that they’re dropping a new batch of fall/halloween themed ones today!!! #so now i’ve gotta make myself stay awake until 6pm so i can jump on it when they’re available #which is a small struggle considering my nocturnal sleep schedule but i will do it nonetheless #that crescent moon patterned one Will Be Mine #trying to decide between buttercup yellow and schoolbus yellow for the clip #i think i’m more drawn to the vibrancy of the schoolbus yellow honestly #eeeeeee i’m excited i’ve been wanting to treat myself to ordering from this shop for a g e s and im finally gonna do it

[emuwarum]

oh so baby pond snails are bastards on purpose

#Emu tries to post #aquatic snails #Pond snails #i love my ponds! they are just so Stubborn and Annoying #I. I respect that they are like the hulk of snails and refuse to let me take them off whatever they’re on #I do not respect that they keep deciding to climb out of the whole tank I. WHY #It’s clean! It’s got food! It’s got a filter! It’s got other snails! What more could you want! #and then they decide heehoo I’m gonna go on a journey and be on the other side of the room in another tank :) #COME ON GUYS #I thought I’d overestimated this capability and forgotten I’d put one guy in that tank but Seriously #I put some babies in a cup for later #two minutes pass. I look over and WHY ARE YOU ON THE OUTSIDE ALREADY #this cup had like a centimetre of water in and in two minutes they climbed all the way to the outside????? #I guess I need to extend their tank and make it taller purely so they can keep climbing without getting stuck outside #I. #pond snails are probably the Worst nightmare of anyone who doesn’t want snails #I do want snails but I have many grievances with ponds specifically #Malaysian trumpet snail my darling you have no faults whatsoever #the rest of you though… ramshorns eat each other. And also every plant. Bladder snails make so many babies and so many poop too #pond snails are. They have a lot of personality. Not a very nice personality though #Malaysian trumpet snails though? Oh my sweet sweet darlings with your sheep like faces and teeny babes and love of underground #if I ever get one of the snails that’s actually sold as a pet I would probably want a rabbit snail

[andthebeanstalk]

What up I'm married to a tall person who is basically Milo Thatch but agender, and uhhh, basically, yeah, everyone should be jealous and I LOVE MY CUTE TWINK NERD WIFE!!!!! 😤😤🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤👌👌

#original #i love my wife #had a big crush on that character growing up #you know who else is really into her? EVERY OTHER CHUBBY TRANS GUY IN CHICAGO apparently we just see her and are like OH HELL YEAH #do you know why this is? it is because we have excellent taste that is why. #and also we want non threatening masc people to be into us and respect our gender! that's me anyway #and this is excellent news for her anyway bc we're in an open relationship & she thinks guys like me (her HUSBAND 🥰😁) are incredibly hot #this is also bc she has excellent taste. #but it is a running joke that she keeps getting nice OKC matches that look a lot like me 😂 #anyway this post is a thing that would have made young me BOIL with envy if someone else said it but in fact it is ME #and young me grew into me and is in here like AAWWWWWWW YYYEEEEEEEEAAAHHHHH 🤘🤘🤘🤘🚀🚀🚀 #she doesn't just look like Milo she also moves and emotes and talks like him. and until recently her glasses would not stay on her face! #she got new ones. nerd. i adore her. #she is so kind to Jack (me) and to my giant anxious pitbull child #she puts his blankie on him as he rests on her toes to make sure she doesn't go anywhere 😭😭❤ #she is my best friend and she never makes me feel stupid or fake or undeserving. she just likes me so much and she fkn acts like it! #and we have good boundaries and communication in a very autistic way [positive] and she is so smart and funnyyy #oh i am falling asleep now #probably has something to do with how thinking about my wife makes me feel safe and warm or some gay shit like that 🙄 ;) #edit: omg it just occurred to me that she is like 80% Mill and 20% Jessica Jones. just in terms of like. vibes. XD #she cares a lot about Jessica Jones. I will tell her my findings in the morrow #*80% Milo