#experimenting with only doing one of these

[gutsby]

Watch Your Mouth

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.

Word count: 1.9k

Maybe a hand was too much.

A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that you’d eventually quiet down—but he needed silence now.

And he’d get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didn’t understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised he’d be better about that.

“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled.

Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.

“Sorry, baby, I’m—” Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, “—sorry, jus’ need ya real quiet right now, okay?”

You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to you—he’d been your first not too long ago and the only partner since—so he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.

Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joel’s minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:

“I’m tryin’, Joel. Really, I am,” you whispered.

“I know, sweet pea,” he whispered back, “I know.”

He took the palm he’d used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.

He’d inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didn’t come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, “Such a good, perfect girl for me, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.

“‘S’okay, pretty girl, it’s okay. I know that feels good.”

His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside you—how those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experience—and this time, he didn’t try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.

Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasn’t sure if the whimpers you’d made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured he’d give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

It worked, and it didn’t.

Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joel’s thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throat—the kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.

The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when he’d brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.

Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, he’d picked a decently safe spot, but then you—

“Joel, I—”

Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever you’d been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joel’s hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.

He swallowed and stared. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as you’d just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.

Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joel’s forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.

And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably would’ve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.

Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a taste—Joel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.

“Y’like that, huh?” he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.

You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so much—loved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joel’s frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.

“Shhhh, shhh…keep suckin’ like that. Stay still, okay?” Joel murmured, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.

You weren’t sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joel’s thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he’d gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his thumb and leaking spit—and muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joel’s cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.

Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joel’s control—as were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.

“‘S’all mine, ain’t she, hon? Tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“Tell me she’s mine to fuck, stuff full’a cum, right here.”

And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.

Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.

“She wants a baby, doesn’t she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?”

You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like this—thoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joel’s thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.

“You want my babies, baby?” Joel mumbled.

You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.

Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.

“Say, ‘I want your babies, Joel.’”

“I want your babies, Joel.”

“Say, ‘I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.’”

“I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.”

Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joel’s broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, you’d bet he felt the same.

It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.

But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didn’t seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.

Truly, he couldn’t look more magnificent if he tried.

“Fuck, baby, I’m— I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.”

Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.

“Gonna knock you up,” he added through gritted teeth.

That part was not a threat, but a promise.

You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peak—

A twig snapped nearby.

Both of you froze in place.

#JOEL MILLER TELLING ME TO SHUT MY F*CKING MOUTH MIGHT ACTUALLY HEAL ME #OR MAKE ME MUCH MUCH WORSE #POTENTIALLY #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou

[genderkoolaid]

expand on ur "mental asylum Marxism shit" thing about children & grief?? from what you've said im pretty sure i will relate from my own experiences as a grieving child. also it sounds interesting!!

so i was thinking about how weird it is that, when a child has to deal with the death of a loved one, they say something like "no child should have to go through this! no child should have to even think about death!" which strikes me as weird because i was a child who dealt with the deaths of multiple close family members, very close together. the first was my great-grandmother, who i lived with and who was my best friend. death was never foreign to me (my mom has always been very death-positive on top of all that). grief was just part of my life like everything else was.

but i realized that its because people think childhood should not have any flaws. you should be 100% happy and fulfilled all the time. any time a child experiences anything painful, its bad. not "children should have access to love and support," but "children should not have basic life experiences because the idea of childhood being anything other than fluffy purity scares me."

because children in society are fundamentally not people. especially in a society structured around christian beliefs in natural law theory, that what is natural = what is good, healthy, and Divinely commanded. so on top of children being the property of adults, they are also forced to be the symbols of Nature. whatever is the most useful to whoever needs them. which means we built up this idea of children as tabula rasas, pureness incarnate. like a magic mirror where if we look into it, we'll be able to catch a glimpse of the true face of humanity. every single thing children do can be scrutinized for some grand truth about humans as a whole. and then, the ways children are treated also reflect how we think humanity should interact with its own nature.

example: the idea of humanity as inherently sinful and wicked, with that urge needing to be suppressed through state violence (hello hobbes) = the idea that children are annoying and shitty on purpose and need to be forced via punishment into being Good Citizens.

this is also why children cannot be trans, even though all trans people must prove that we were trans children. being queer must be unnatural; and even if not, its inherently sexual, and sexuality is dirty and bad. so children can't be trans, and they also can't read books on puberty until their parents decide when and what exactly they are allowed to learn. child victims of sexual assault only matter to the extent that they can be used as a symbol of a cultural threat; calling Jewish or trans people pedophiles means saying that they are foreigners attacking basic human nature, and indirectly, Divine command. if you aren't the right kind of victim, or when you inevitably reveal yourself to be A Person with complicated experiences and opinions, you are no longer of use to the agenda.

it sucks that bad things happen to anyone. aspects of youth can exacerbate the pain sometimes, but sometimes it does the reverse: I wish I could have spent more time with the family members I lost, but I know other people who are glad they loss family members young, because they weren't really hurt by it. I think the main thing is that, even sometimes when we talk about our past selves, we project this cultural idea of Child As Purity and ignore the actual person having the experience. when we "empathize" with children by projecting Purity onto them, we aren't actually connecting with them.

#m. #ask box #csa tw #youthlib

[gale-dekarios]

i think the reason that i like the night in the stars with gale so much isnt because of that scene in and of itself (even though i admittedly love it) but rather the future implications for gale and his partner's romance from there.

if you have sex with gale in the astral plane, you gain an experience you probably wouldnt have had otherwise, but therein lies the problem: that night with gale is unique, and i wonder, considering his need to point out that he's out of practice, when you two eventually do have regular mortal sex, how would gale feel about that?

because now he's given you (in his opinion) The Best He Has To Offer, but its not going to be a regular occurence -- it cant be -- does he feel nervous about giving you "boring" or potentially "disappointing" mortal sex in comparison? if "nothing compares," can he? just by himself?

and when it finally happens, when afterwards, youre dopey and smiling up at him like he hung the sun in the sky just to keep you warm, do you think he realises that the point isnt that he blew your mind and youll never have another experience like it, but rather that you simply enjoy having sex with him? because it's with him?

do you think he realises soft knuckles brushed over sweat-slick skin can feel an awful lot like two souls merging in the astral when youre in love enough?

i love the bed scene, this isnt to sway anyone one way or the other, but i think gale coming out the gate with what he thinks is the best sex he can offer his partner only to figure out that any sex is the best sex he can have with his partner because theyre his partner is compelling.

#the tomes #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 gale dekarios #bg3 gale of waterdeep #galetav #gale bg3 #gale headcanons #gale dekarios headcanons #gale dekarios/tav #gale of waterdeep/tav #bg3 headcanons #galemance #baldurs gate

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

#writing #harry styles #bffrry #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry's house #hs4 #harry's house album #fine line #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles drabble

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid dilf agenda #margot's requests

[milfsloverblog]

Chlorine Water (nsfw)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: It’s 6.24am, I haven’t slept because I needed to get this out of my system. This is pure porn without plot. Something that popped into my head when I should have been writing something far more important (thesis can wait). First time writing shapeshifted cock, think I did not too bad. Enjoy lovelies!!

CW: SHAPESHIFTED COCK!!

“Will you join me?” You called from the pool float where you’d been sitting for the past half hour.

Larissa stayed quiet for a second, reading the last few words on the page of the book she was holding before placing it down next to her on the sun lounger.

“I might,” she answered, picking up her glass of rosé from the floor and taking a few sips of it. “How’s the water?”

You dipped your fingertips in the pool before wiping them on one of your naked thighs.

“Warm. Not as hot as you, though!”

Larissa chuckled and placed her now empty glass back on the ground before getting up from the lounger. She stretched her arms above her head, making you bite your lip at the sight of her pale breasts nearly popping out of her green bikini top. Nearly.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” You asked as Larissa walked closer to the edge of the pool. She truly was a vision. Legs that seemed never-ending, inviting hips which dipped into an even more inviting waist and slightly uneven breasts that you loved to tease her about. When she got close enough, you noticed the bite mark that you’d left on her thigh a few days before.

“Mhm, only a few thousand times.” She smiled softly and sat down on the tiled floor, her legs dangling in the water as she leaned back on her hands and waited - visibly impatiently - for you to come closer.

You didn’t make her wait long, almost immediately dropping from the pool float into the water and swimming towards your lover.

Playfully, you held one of Larissa’s legs and kissed the side of her knee, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to be able to lick chlorine water from her thigh. It tasted terrible, really, but Larissa’s breathless sigh made up for it.

Much as you wanted to, you didn’t put your mouth anywhere near Larissa’s crotch and only kissed her thighs and knees, even trying to pull her further over the edge so you could get to her hips too.

“Darling,” The word fell from Larissa’s mouth as her fingers weaved themselves through your hair, giving a gentle tug so you’d look up at her face. “Do you mind if…” Larissa’s gaze fell between her legs and yours was quick to follow, your eyes widening at the sight of the bulge in her bikini that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.

“Of course not.” You breathed out, your fingertips digging into the flesh of your lover’s thighs.

Sex with Larissa was always an experience. You never really knew what to expect from your shapeshifting partner, and you loved that.

Slowly, you pushed Larissa’s bottom to the side to free her semi-hard cock, your mouth instantly salivating at the sight of it.

Larissa gave your hair another gentle tug, pulling you out of your trance.

“Open up.” Her voice was soft but you knew it was a demand, to which you quickly obeyed by opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Larissa cooed as she took hold of her cock and thrust her hips closer to your face.

You closed your eyes as the weight of Larissa’s tip pressed down on your tongue. She stayed still for a moment, her eyes raking down your face as she took in how eager you were to please her.

“Good girl.” She repeated, slowly moving her tip up and down your tongue until her cock had fully hardened. “Will you take care of me, darling?”

You gave a slight nod and Larissa let go of your hair, your cue to take control of the situation. You wrapped your hand around the base of her cock and your lips around the tip, slowly moving your head down until Larissa’s blonde pubic hair tickled your nose. She had thankfully settled for a medium-sized cock that day, although the girth was larger than usual and you knew your jaws would start aching in a few minutes. Still, that allowed you a few minutes to pleasure her.

Larissa groaned loudly as you moved your head back up and down again, slowly increasing the rhythm of your sucking.

“Oh god, yes-“ She threw her head back when your tongue teased the spot that you knew would drive her crazy. “I need you-“ She breathed out, her hips carefully thrusting her cock deeper into your mouth. “I need to be inside you-“

That was another one of your cues. You kept sucking for a few more seconds before letting go of Larissa’s cock with a loud pop.

“Come here,” You groaned, grabbing Larissa’s waist and pulling her into the water with you.

You barely had time to react before she spun you around, trapping you between the cold pool tiles and her body.

“You’re divine,” She whispered, her length rubbing up and down your thigh.

Larissa’s hand snaked down between your bodies and she bit her lip when she found you dripping wet after pushing her fingers inside your bikini.

“All of this for me?” She smirked before pressing her lips on the pulse point of your neck, suckling at the skin and leaving a perfect imprint of her mouth in crimson lipstick.

“Why would you wear makeup to go swimming?” You asked with an expression as incredulous as possible. Without waiting for an answer, you grabbed onto Larissa’s hip and pulled her into a kiss.

You didn’t really want to hear Larissa’s explanation. You only wanted to hear her moan.

Larissa kissed you back with practised ease, her fingers skillfully moving between your lips and pressing on your clit. Her lipstick smudged against your skin as she parted her lips to kiss you always deeper.

“God-“ Your lover grunted, the rubbing of her cock against your leg becoming more insistent until you gently wrapped your hand around its length and guided it between your legs.

The warmth of your flesh against Larissa’s shaft made it throb violently and she grunted again, louder this time, as she began rubbing her member against your clit.

“Larissa!” You whined, spreading your legs to allow your lover more space. “Please, I want- I need to feel you inside of me.”

Larissa happily obliged, immediately pressing the tip of her cock against your entrance and slowly pushing herself inside of you. It felt like heaven, her girth stretching you just the right amount as you wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer, letting out a moan when her tip pressed against your cervix.

“What do you think?” Larissa asked, voice dripping with lust.

“Perfect-“ You whined. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“And I’ll perfectly fuck you,” Larissa whispered into your ear before her hips started thrusting against yours.

Larissa tried her best to be soft, she really did. But after a couple of minutes of gentle thrusts, your sweet moans and your cunt squeezing around her length became almost unbearable. She firmly grabbed onto your waist and pulled out of you, spinning you around so you’d face the edge of the pool.

“Fuck!” You cried out when your lover slammed back inside you, your legs quivering when she started thrusting frantically.

“You’re so good,” She groaned. “So tight and so warm.”

Larissa held onto your waist with one of her hands, so tightly that you knew you’d be left with marks that’d last for days, while the other one moved to your front to find your buzzing clit again.

You nearly melted against her, veins filling with nothing short but a white-hot pleasure while she quickened her pace, driving herself so deep until the tip of her cock kissed your cervix, drawing not only a moan but a yelp from you as well and you couldn’t help but move your hips back to meet her thrusts.

“I-I’m close-“ You stuttered, making Larissa fuck you with an urgency that you had rarely felt before. Her fingers moved faster against your clit and it only took a few more thrusts for you to be sent over the edge, your body tensing from head to toe.

Everything turned white for a second, your thighs started shaking, and you swore you heard Larissa gasping as your cunt tightened around her, pulsed, and gushed around her girth.

“Rissa, please…” You whined and suddenly her blood rushed down to her cock, leaving her breathless as she came hard, pushing herself unbelievably deep until she made sure she had filled you to the brim with her cum, and you almost laughed in delight about how full she made you feel.

“God, darling-“ she sighed, resting her sweaty forehead on your shoulder as her senses came back when the rush of adrenaline slowly wore off, the pain in her thighs getting stronger by the second.

Larissa carefully pulled out of you and wrapped her arms around your waist to hug you from behind.

“You’re perfect.” She whispered before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Perfectly fucked, as promised.”

————————————————————————

Taglist: @suckerfortallwomen @im-a-carnivorous-plant @dingdongthetail @azu-zu @gwensfz @erablaise-blog @rainbow-hedgehog @renravens @weemssapphic @kaymariesworld @niceminipotato @agathaandbrienneslesbian @witchesmortuary @notmeellaannyy @weemswife @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @redkarine @women-are-so-ethereal @opheliauniverse @willisnotmental @raspburrythief @vii-v @fictionalized-lesbian @weems13 @gwendolineiscomfort @ness029 @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @cxndlelightx @m1lflov3rrr @winterfireblond @nocteangelus15 @aemilia19 @theswordmaiden @spacetoaim22 @wh0s-vesper @vendocrap8008 @sapphicxrat @jkregal @gela123 @lilfartbox1 @xuukoo @bellatrixsbrat @sadsapphic-rose @dumbasslesbi @wizardlyworldofeden @larissaoftarthweems @larissalover3 @friskyfisher @thesamesweetie

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #no beta we die like larissa

[spaghettioverdose]

I've never really talked on here about how I figured out my gender, and since this whole egg discourse is going on, I feel like I should.

I'm not one of the trans women who figured out their genders at age 4 and became fully confident of it. Up until around 16 I didn't even begin to consider that I may not be a cis guy and it took me up until almost 19 to fully realise I was a trans woman. Before this, at 18, after feeling particularly shitty for weeks (from what I later learned was definitely dysphoria), I attempted suicide.

I only really started to understand myself once I started hanging out with other trans people on discord servers. My perception of transness was the more mainstream-accepted version (at that time) of "I always confidently knew I was a woman basically from birth and I exhibited x, y and z feminine behaviours at all times etc." which I didn't fit in with, so I always thought "well I can't be a trans woman because that's not me". Being around other trans people, and especially having other trans women point out behaviours I had, and tell me "that's also how I thought before I realised I was trans" helped me immensely.

I didn't get any of the rigid online definitions and examples, nor did I get the perfectly sanitised videos from the handful of trans people who made it on youtube. None of that felt like me at the time. I didn't have any point of reference. I only really understood myself once I related to someone who used to be in the same position. If some trans girl didn't call me an egg, I might still be a completely miserable "cis" guy to this day still, or even dead.

I understand that others have had worse experiences when it comes to this, but we must recognise that the problem in these situations is outing or harassment. The porblem is abuse, and as with all things interpersonal, you can always turn it into abuse. As with all things interpersonal, you have to have some amount of tact and caution.

I don't think we should harass anyone into getting their egg cracked (and this happens vastly less often than people here seem to think but it does happen), but also we shouldn't be constantly agnostic about if someone is trans or not, because in the end not everyone is capable of coming to that conclusion by themselves, and by the time you've "let them figure it out" they might've spent several more years being miserable and not knowing why or they might be dead.

It is also very important to point out that this discourse is only really happening because there is a particular bias against trans women. This isn't a discussion of how to approach the subject, or a handful of people talking about their experiences with it, it's a discourse where one side is trying to problematize another aspect of the transfem community. Notice that people are arguing this when it comes to transfems and not cis gay people or even transmascs. Notice that this website always cycles back to attacking some aspect of the transfem community every couple of weeks.

Do you really think these arguments are being made in good faith? Do you really think it's worth adding to the sea of transmisogyny that is this website and most of the world?

As always, this post is meant for people who are genuinely well-meaning. The dipshits who keep jumping on any excuse they can to harass trans women can go fuck themselves.

#transmisogyny #long post

[xitsensunmoon]

People often talk how inaccurate self diagnoses can be for things like autism and while I personally disagree, I found it to be true to some degree. But in a completely opposite direction.

When I just found out about a possibility of me being neurodivergent, maybe, like, a year ago? (Thanks to a peer review by my friends💀) I took an online test for a self diagnosis - RAADS-R. And there's a reason they say "it can be inaccurate".

I think my first "score" was something close to 80 out of 240 possible. It meant I had some of the traits, but a lot of neurotypical people could score that high too.

But I got curious. And so for the next year I was doing my research. Finding out about spoon theory, about energy levels, about light and sound sensitivity, struggles with social cues and such.

I took the test again, a year later. I scored 167.

If your conclusion is "well, obviously you were influenced and the results are biased" you won't be entirely wrong. But the reason for it is not that I faked it. It's that I paid more attention to myself.

If you're living your whole life masking, you're taught to ignore absolutely every symptom of what may be autism or ADHD. My whole life I was thinking that I'm "weird" or "broken" or "different" or or or. I knew that I'm living my life somehow different than people around me. It felt like everyone got a tutorial how to live this life and I skipped it. But I could never understand why.

So, why did I score higher the second time I took the test? Because the first time all of the "weird" situations were never linked to autism in my brain. I had two dots, the connection between them being autism. But I never recognised the said connection, due to the high-masking nature that helped me to cope with everyday struggles.

But the second I made the connection, suddenly everything made sense. Suddenly, it's not "I'm too sensitive", it's not "something is wrong with me", it's not "why am I not enjoying this while others do?". It's fucking autism(and ADHD too, lol.)

That's the reason your diagnosis may be not as accurate as you think. Your brain can try and protect you from making the connection between your experiences and the diagnosis. Or, of course, there's a possibility to make a wrong connection, too.

But you're the only one who can find out. There's no one out there who knows you better than yourself.

#xit shh #i usually don't post about things like this i felt like sharing #long post #autism

[royalarchivist]

Bad: I don't think we've reached an ending, but we've reached an end for some things. [...] There are no permanent endings, Chat. There are no permanent goodbyes. Only goodbyes for now. Only goodbyes for now, ok?

Bad talks a little bit to his chat about the Egg admins leaving, and the future.

[ Transcript ↓ ]

—

Bad: All right, Chat. I need to have a serious talk with you for a little bit. Here Pepito, I'm gonna keep riding! Sorry Pepito, I’ll keep riding. I'm gonna have a serious talk with the Chat since we got 12 minutes to kill.

But yes, Chat. Yes, some of the… Eggies are leaving, which I know is a really sad thing to see following such a fun and happy day of Murder Mystery, which was really fun. And I know– as far as I know right now, just, I'm aware that I was– I'm aware that Pepito— er, not- sorry, Pepito is behind me, see Pepito? He's right there.

As far as I know, Chat, right now I'm aware of Richas left, or will be leaving, Lullah will be leaving, and I believe Chayanne will be leaving. And… it's really heartbreaking. And it's hard to talk about, obviously, ‘cuz we made so many memories with them over the past year. So… I think, I don't know. Obviously like, there's things I wanna say, things I will say, things I won't say, you know… And I just… I dunno. Right now just gonna… filling you guys in. But uh, yeah, they will no longer be around. So… Yeah, it’s very sad, I’m very sad. But I think… I don't think– or at least I'd say I hope that it's not the end of any particular adventures for them going forward.

And I don't know, we'll see what the future holds for any particular thing. You feel me? Just like– just enjoy the memories today. Relish in the sadness chat. Embrace the sadness for a bit, and understand that like, I think tomorrow will be better, and just give the love and appreciation to the amazing people— give the love and appreciation, Chat, to the amazing people of the project who worked so hard and put their heart and soul into everything they did. All of the Eggy actors, all the builders, all the people who worked on everything. Each one of them. I think each one of the Eggs really put themselves into their characters.

Obviously, in particular, I was particularly close to Dapper, Pomme, and Richas, and I'm gonna miss them the most, obviously, Chat. I don't know personally, I don't know what my– I can't speak necessarily on what my future holds because… you know, in regards to anything ‘cuz I'm just kinda going through the emotions right now and just kind of feeling the emotions, you know?

[Groans] I dunno, Chat. I’m just feelin’ it, and sometimes it’s hard to put things into words. You know? When you’re feeling stuff. So… It's hard to play, uh… it's hard to play Minecraft with, um, with people for so long, Chat. You know, to spend so much time with people. And you guys were here for the ride, you were here for the journey. Don't be sad when a particular ride happens, Chat. Be happy you were able to ride it to begin with. Ok?

I think– I feel– I think personally, Chat, I feel very blessed to have been able to experience the– and do this stuff I've been able to, you know?

[Long silence]

Ah, we're almost there, we're almost there, Chat.

[Sighs, then reads a chat message] “Thank you for bringing us on this journey with you” I don't think—

One: I don't think the journey is over completely, right? I can't say with certainty Chat, what the future holds, right? And I don't know– I don't know what the future holds, Chat. I don't think– I don't think we've reached an ending, but we have– we’ve reached the end for some things, yes. And as for what it means– what I mean by “an ending,” I dunno. We'll see what happens, you know? I think the chapter as far as like— obviously, like… you know, when you graduate school for example, right? It is an ending of sorts. It's an ending of THAT experience, right? The experience that you had with those particular people in that particular place. It's not an ending to those people, or your interactions with those people. You feel me?

[Sighs] There's other things I want to say Chat, but… I’m doin’ my best to just keep myself reigned in a little bit. Guess I'm feeling a little- a lil’ emotional. Trying to reign in those emotions, you know? One day at a time. But make sure you're following, and stick around, because I have a feeling we'll have more fun stuff that you guys will not want to miss. Trust me. Trust me Chat, every day is gonna be an adventure.

#Badboyhalo #BBH #Bad #QSMP #May 13 2024 #Did my best with the transcript

[mokulule]

A Man Has Needs - Part 2

First | Masterpost

DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main Summary:

In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 2

Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.

The guy was here because he was starving.

Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?

Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.

That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.

Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.

Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.

It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.

Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.

Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.

Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.

It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.

Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.

Oo o oO

Mint and frost in his nose.

Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.

Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.

What was wrong with him?

Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.

There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.

For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.

Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.

He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?

He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.

Mint and frost.

Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.

Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.

Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.

He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.

Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.

He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.

Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.

The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.

“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.

Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.

Okay, so they were doing this again.

Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.

He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.

Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusement. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.

“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.

“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.

Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.

“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.

“I hate toast.”

Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.

“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”

Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”

Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.

Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.

Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “Shit! Forgot the time!”

The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.

“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.

Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?

Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.

One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.

-

And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!

I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.

If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost

#dp x dc #dead on main #a man has needs #next time on a man has needs #Danny and Jason talk #or do they #Jason is really not good at talking in Danny's presence

[sirfrogsworth]

Dinner with Aunt Denise & Uncle Jeff A Tale of Science Fair Photography

Ever since my parents died my aunt and uncle have done their best to fill some of the hole left in my heart. It almost feels like they adopted me in a way. They check on me. They help me clean. They helped me sort through all of my parents' belongings. And from time to time they invite me over for dinner when I'm feeling up to it.

Last week I got a new invitation. I had been feeling pretty lonely as of late so I graciously accepted. Before I left I saw my camera sitting on the table and realized I had this fancy new lens which is especially suited for taking pictures of people.

I thought to myself...

"This lens has only taken pictures of bridges at sunset."

Which is cool and everything, but I don't really want my only photos to be of bridges at sunset. I like taking pictures of other things.

I didn't have any lighting equipment handy—just a single external flash. And without a solid plan for how I was going to use it, I quickly packed said flash and headed westward. As I saw the sun lowering in the sky above the highway my big photography brain had an idea...

"I should take pictures of *people* at sunset."

I needed a reflector of some kind to bounce my flash against. I thought poster board would probably suffice so I stopped at Walmart and headed to the arts and crafts area. I found these tri-fold poster board thingies that grade school kids use to display their science fair experiments.

I got 2 for $7!

What a deal!

After I arrived I asked if my aunt & uncle minded having their photo taken. My aunt said she was fine with it but warned me that no one had ever been able to take a decent photo of her.

I'm typically not one to be braggadocious, but I replied...

"Well, that's because you've never had your photo taken by ME."

I'm not sure I should have been so cocky considering my lighting equipment is typically used to display the life cycle of earthworms, baking soda volcanos, and... potato batteries—which was the delightful and totally real project I just found on Google.

Science Fair Entry from Billy, Age 10

After a delicious feast of bratwurst, salad, and non-electrified potatoes, I convinced my aunt and uncle to sit for a sunset photoshoot. They even helped me set up my science fair project.

Science Fair Entry from Froggie, Age 42

I decided to do a quick test indoors to make sure my plan would work. Jeff volunteered for my first experiment.

Without my contraption...

With my contraption...

I think my experiment was quite promising. But would my idea hold up outside during the sunset with constantly dimming conditions?

We moved everything to the backyard. The tri-fold poster board was a bit ornery regarding its uprightness and needed to be tamed. My Uncle Jeff used a large rock, some pillows, and a step ladder to keep the makeshift reflectors in place.

I started taking test photos without the flash to figure out the background exposure.

Those pesky power lines were going to need to be zapped later in Photoshop, but I was really digging the scenery.

I dialed everything in, started taking photos, and even on the little rear camera screen I felt like they were turning out well. With the sun setting the sky looked like it was on fire. But then the batteries died in my flash and I was starting to lose that fiery sky as darkness began to creep into view.

Unfortunately, all of the potatoes were in our bellies so my aunt scrambled to find regular batteries in the house.

This photoshoot had become a complete team effort with everyone doing their part to make it a success.

Surprisingly it was my Uncle Jeff was giving me some bona fide model poses. He just naturally has some sort of... resting model face. Very masculine and authentic. And my Aunt Denise is just pure sunshine manifested as a person. So I had no problems getting nice expressions from her.

So... would you like to see the pictures?

Will I get a blue ribbon on my science fair project?

Am I building up the suspense too much?

Okay, here we go...

I suppose the only validation I really need is from the person who has never had a decent photo taken of them.

Let's see the verdict.

All of those hours and hours of photography training helped me learn the problem solving skills I needed to pull off a photoshoot with seven dollars in supplies.

Take a small light source, bounce it off something larger, and you get a big light source.

And big light sources make people look snazzy in photographs.

Easy!

Are you kidding me?

I lost to the potato kid?

What kind of rigged nonsense...

#photography #long post

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Alright, here we go

First and foremost I want to talk about what flying bark's animation has meant to me.

In a world where every day I see 2d animation being rejected for cheaper 3d and puppet animation at every turn, Monkie Kid's animation was the one of the first things that gave me hope for the future of 2D animation. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting a 2D animated show, growing up I wanted one so desperately, I craved good animation amongst the stiff 3D and flat storytelling, so when I got it, when Monkie Kid happened, I was so unbelievably happy. It was everything I wanted in a show, gorgeous animation, excellent voice actors, romance free and friendly to my desperate friendship-craving, romance-overstimulated brain and written in a way I enjoyed so much. I struggle to describe exactly how much I’ve adored everything this show has been up until this point. It truly is a masterpiece.

Monkie kid has kept me company during the lowest and roughest points in my life. I got to such a bad place mentally but Monkie Kid’s fast-paced, snappy, detailed, colourful bright animation brought light into my darkest mental times and not only helped me stay connected with people but kept me creating even when I wanted nothing more than to lay on the floor and never move again. I'm aware most of the flying bark team is active on the bird app and none of them are gonna see this most likely but I still just wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for animating this show, thank you so much for giving it your all. Thank you so much for giving me something I’ve always wanted so perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping me company at my lowest, thank you for sharing your joy of animation so I could catch some of those rays of sunlight and feel a little of that joy too. Thank you for your positivity and good vibes, thank you. 

I know so many people have gotten inspiration from flying bark and I have to add myself to the infinite list. My art has improved so much thanks to their inspiration. My style has developed, I’ve had so much fun, I’ve written some of my favorite works ever based off of expressions that the characters make alone. My last amv I made because I was so grateful for the animation that we'd gotten up to that point. I wanted to showcase, to thank, to appreciate. I didn’t know it would be a goodbye. Words can't describe all that flying bark's animation and even their storyboards have done for me. When nothing could make me happy, monkie kid wormed its way into my brain and somehow kept me in one piece. I know that wouldn’t have been possible without the animation that left me at the edge of my seat, breathless and laughing over how incredible it really was every single time. Every new clip, every new episode I’d pause and rewatch again, I’d rewatch over and over, I’d take screenshots of every goofy background character, I’d screenshot every expression I could, I’d go through episodes frame-by-frame, literally one at a time for hours on end just so i could catch every detail, I’d open my eyes wider and wider to try and take in every bit I could in a way I’ve never been able to do before because there is nothing else out there like monkie kid. There was nothing as fun and as joyful as every single frame that flying bark gave us. And I am going to miss that so much.

The fact that season 4 was a sendoff is so heartbreaking to me, it's hard to describe how devastated I feel knowing something that kept hold of my hand when I was facing hard hard things in my life is suddenly gone. I don’t know how to ever express how important this show has been to me, it’s kept me going and helped me get to a place where I could breathe again. It’s connected me with some of the greatest people I know. It’s given me incredible experiences, introduced me to what animation could be and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt having to say goodbye so suddenly. 

I know this isn’t the end of Monkie Kid as a show. I know season 5 is still coming. And I also know Monkie Kid has lost a huge part of what made it unique and special, a huge part of its heart and soul. Without flying bark it feels like half the show is missing and although I hope I can still support the show, no one can deny the cavern-sized hole that is left by flying bark’s absence in it. The animation team has such an incredibly positive atmosphere around them that just absolutely radiates from the things they create. I am going to miss that so desperately in monkie kid. I’m going to support every other show flying bark works on, I’m still going to love their animation wherever it goes, but I am going to miss it in monkie kid like nothing else I’ve ever missed.

I do have some other thoughts regarding the new changes in monkie kid but I wanted to keep that separate from the actual farewell, so that’ll be it’s own post and I just want to end this by saying thanks for everything Flying Bark you’ve been a real one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re already being missed so hard it hurts. Keep those good vibes and keep up what you’re doing. You all really are incredible and an inspiration to artists everywhere. We love this show because of the voice actors, because of the writers, because of the music but a great deal of people loved this show because of you. You’ve inspired a community of artists, you’ve inspired me. Thank you flying bark for everything you've given us, you gave it your all and I’m gonna carry the impact you left on me for the rest of my life. 

LOVE YOU FLYING BARK. Here's to a bright future. Thanks for everything <3 

#knox rambles #long post #monkie kid #flying bark #gods ima miss them #ive never cared about an animation studio so much in my LIFE #good people will do that to ya #face in hands bro #im a fundamentally different person because of these guys #ough #lego monkie kid #its gonna take me a bit to recover from this one bois

[tinalbion]

'𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Ghoul x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, oral (male receiving), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cowgirl, penetration, creampie murder, canon typical language

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: I saw someone mention that they think the Ghoul hasn't had sex in 200 years, (their personal headcanon) they figure he would be a little bit rusty. So this is what stemmed from that post, which isn't exactly too on point but it's something! This is for you!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

It had been hell in the Wastelands as you struggled to survive, but you were always a tough one and managed to make it on your own, though using that experience you gained only made you stronger, smarter, and less likely to be taken off guard. Well, you had thought so, but life managed to always try to surprise you. 

The Ghoul came and changed all of that. 

You happened to run into him by complete accident as you were scrounging for scraps, anything you could sell or trade in, and there he was, walking by without a care in the world as he readjusted the saddle bag on his shoulder. You saw him, but he didn't see you, or so you thought. 

It was funny how most ghouls on the surface had all but withered away and turned feral, but this one seemed to have a purpose, your eyes focused on him for a good long while as he was searching for…something. You weren't sure what exactly, but you still watched him to pass the time, especially since he was one of the most interesting people you'd seen out here in a very long while. 

He stopped and looked straight at you like he knew you were there the entire time, and your heartbeat quickened. What would he do? Would he rob you for what you had? Shoot you for fun? No, he didn't do any of that, he just stared for a long moment, tilted his head as the brim of his hat covered his stare, and then went on his merry way.

That was the first time you saw him. 

The second time you'd met him wasn't too long after. You were making your way around once again, in search of jobs, and you'd frequent local bars, or what passed as bars nowadays, and you'd been drinking a cheap bottle of probably piss, and he had walked in. The entire room went silent save for a few who could have cared less about a Ghoul's presence. Not a lot of folks cared for them, saw them as less than people, but you didn't have an issue, just with the ones who posed a threat. 

He sauntered up to the bar, slapped a folded piece of paper down, then took a seat. The jingle of his spurs echoed in your head as he sat there, his intimidating aura radiated off of him to the point you were too afraid to look anywhere but stare at your drink. he must have sensed your unease and he shifted, staring at you, his eyes glared toward you in sunken sockets, his prominent brow furrowed. 

There was talk amongst the bar again, more hushed than it had been, but it was there all the same. You heard the stranger's voice speak up this time, but you focused so hard on anything but him that it seemed to be muffled talk with the bartender. Your eyes flickered over to look at his hands, which rested on the counter, gloves covered his hands as he remained as calm as ever while he tapped his digits against the defaced wood.  

“Well, sweetheart, maybe you could point me in the direction of someone who has a damn sense of what they're sayin’ to me, ‘cause I'm havin’ a difficult time finding anyone who doesn't seem to be hidin’ something.”

You turned to look at him in surprise and stared for a moment. “What?” You asked. 

He scoffed. “I said, you seen this fella?” He slid the paper toward you, it was now unfolded with a sketch of a man you think you saw a few nights ago in this same dive. 

You nodded and looked up at him for the first time, staring into his eyes, and they pierced yours, stunning you for a moment. “Yeah, saw him here, was talking in the corner with a few other men, but I didn't stick around long. They were being loud and bragging about some bounty they were taking on,” you explained. 

The Ghoul listened, took in your words, and then craned his neck back toward the bartender. “See, now I come in here askin’ so nicely for some information, and here you are hurtin’ my feelings.”

The bartender shot you an annoyed glare and then stared back at him. “Look, I don't want any trouble in my bar, and I get a bunch of people in and out of here, ain't nothing special about some bounty hunter, we get loads of you guys.”

The Ghoul didn't like that response from the man, so he leaned further onto the counter and slid the empty glass toward him. “Top me off, and I'll be on my way.”

You turned away from the Ghoul and tried not to get more involved than you already were. You had a feeling that once he left, the bartender would cut you off, shoot you probably, who knows. So you scooted out of your stool and threw your caps onto the counter, then turned away to make your way out. Once you left through the doors, that's when you heard the sound of a gun go off, and you were thankful you got out of there when you did. 

Where you'd go next, you weren't sure, but sticking around the area would be an awful idea, so you decided to get as far away from the dive as possible. As soon as your feet touched the ground, the door swung open. 

“Leavin’ before you could miss all the fun?” His voice called out to you, his boots heavy on the wooden stairs as he walked down toward you, and the jingle of his spurs echoed behind him. 

“Figured it wouldn't be smart being inside where I could get shot, as much as I'd like to stick around, getting injured ain't fun.”

“You know more than you're lettin’ on, sweetheart, and I ain't in the mood to play games. Where can I find him?”

You figured you had nothing to gain or lose on this man, this bounty wasn't in your interest nor was being around the fool, so you figured you'd give him what he wanted. “Overheard him saying something about a hideout in the middle of the Mojave, said it's fortified with turrets, but I don't know how true that is.”

The Ghoul stared at you, obviously suspicious of your willingness to hand over the information, but he didn't argue. It almost seemed as if he were debating what to do with you from then on, but if your information proved to be wrong, he figured he could just find you again and shoot you. 

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked off, once again making his way across the desert to find his bounty. You figured that would be the last you’d ever seen of him, or at least you had hoped so considering he kind of scared the hell out of you. Truthfully, not many people did anymore, you’d seen a lot in the wastelands that you wish you hadn’t been exposed to mostly for your own well-being. But not much scared you or disturbed you anymore, though something about the Ghoul gnawed at you, it was a fight or flight response at best. 

Of course, that was not the last you saw of the Ghoul. 

The third time, you had a bad feeling that he was thinking the worst. Maybe he figured you were following him around the wastelands, that you coveted whatever he had, but it didn’t even cross his mind. When his eyes landed on you in a settlement trading post miles from where you’d last seen him, questioning some poor sucker who looked like he was trying to pull a fast one on the bounty hunter, and you had just kept on walking. He wouldn’t notice you, you were sure of it.

“Well if it isn’t my little informant from that shithole dive in the Mojave,” he said loud enough for you to hear. 

You paused and looked over your shoulder, smiling nervously. “Oh, it’s you. You uh, find that guy you were looking for?” You asked him, trying to remain calm.

He cocked his head and wore a smirk. “Course I did, and your information was well worth it, glad I didn’t have to hunt you down, too.”

That was the closest to a ‘thank you’ as you’d ever get, you’d take it. “Anytime,” you hummed with a small two-fingered salute and turned back around, trying to get out of the vicinity. 

The Ghoul released the man that he had gripped by his shirt and pointed harshly at him. “You keep your ass right there, I’ll be back for you. We ain’t finished yet.” He turned to walk in your direction and caught up with incredible speed. “Where you goin’, sweetheart? You seem pressed to leave whenever I show up.” 

If this was his form of flirting, you weren’t sure, but you did seem to want to leave quickly whenever you saw him. “Oh, no sir, it’s just I’ve heard about your reputation and I’d rather not mix myself up with any of that,” you said straightforwardly. 

This made the Ghoul chuckle to himself as he stepped in front of you, not allowing you to advance any further away from him. “You either one lucky gal or possibly a lucky charm,” he mused with a mischievous smile. “You work in bounties at all?”

Your eyes shifted from his to the ground, thinking of your response. “I thought about it, but I don’t have that sort of…command a bounty hunter has. I got different skills, though.”

“And what kind is that?”

You cleared your throat and looked up at him. “I mean no offense, but why are you asking?”

This made him chuckle again and he couldn’t help but try to size you up as you seemed so on the defensive. “Just friendly conversation is all.” That was obviously a lie, but he was definitely curious about you and how you just seemed to be there whenever he was.

Now this made you laugh and you nodded. “Sure, I suppose even someone with your reputation could be seen as friendly,” you quipped. “But I am just… a nobody. I just do what I can to get by.”

The Ghoul wasn’t sure how to read into your answer, but there was something to you. “Well, Miss Nobody,” he began as he grabbed the folded piece of paper from his pocket, “since your observance was so spot on last time, why not go round two for two? You seen this lowlife?”

You grabbed the paper from his hand and unfolded it, then grimaced at the photo. “Unfortunately I have, but this one is a bit more of a pain in the ass to get to. Runs with the Triggermen, they have a lot of solid hookups, so I wouldn’t just expect to go in guns blazing and think it ends there. But I saw him sniffing around Filly some time ago, probably doing more chem running.”

Again, he stared at you curiously. “You sure do know a lot of stuff for bein’ a nobody,” he pointed out with a low voice. 

“If you’ve been around for as long as I have, you get to know quite a lot of you seem unassuming and blend into the background.”

“Around as long as you, huh?” He was mildly curious and almost amused by the wording. 

You just nodded and looked around the area, and you noticed that a lot of the people seemed uneasy by the Ghoul’s presence, and you figured it wasn’t due to the fact it was because of what he was but who he was. “Look, again, you can’t just walk right in. If you’re looking for him, isolating him and taking him out alone is the best option for you. Not like you don’t know what you’re doing, I just don’t want you to end up dealing with more of those idiots.”

“What, lookin’ out for little ol’ me, Miss Nobody?” He asked with a sarcastic bite to his tone. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried,” you said matter-of-factly, as if it was the furthest thing from your mind. You wanted to call him out on how ridiculous that sounded to you, but you knew better, so you kept your mouth shut and just offered the man a sigh. “Good luck though.”

And once again, you were walking away from the bounty hunter in one piece, still with a feeling of dread lingering in the back of your head while you faced your back toward him, trying to get as much distance from him and the trouble he would bring.

Yet there you were only days later, laying in your makeshift bed in a rundown shack you took over, and you were thinking about him for some unknown reason. Why, you had no idea and wouldn’t even try to linger on the idea, you just figured it was curiosity if he'd gotten ahold of the bounty he was in search of. But there had been other moments of weakness you had that had him at the center of your attention, and it came over you when you'd people-watch, which was a good habit to have for someone like you. Your eyes would wander, curious if you’d see him again as you ate the questionable food you bought from a vendor, your thoughts miles away.

Because you’d been so distracted, you hadn’t heard the footsteps you’d grown familiar with approach you from behind, the jingle of the spurs rang out. Your eyes had been glued to the scene below as you sat on a higher ledge, legs dangling off the edge while you chewed the tough iguana meat on a stick. There was a sudden ominous feeling beside you, so you happened to look up and see the Ghoul leaning against the railing you sat between.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your tone a bit more enthused than you initially thought.

He looked down at you and gave you that devious smirk he was so keen on wearing. “If it ain’t my lucky little rabbit’s foot,” he teased. “Once again, your word has proven useful. You sure are an interesting specimen ‘round these parts.”

You focused your attention back out toward the crowds of people, smiling at the compliment. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You brushed it off, not wanting to be indebted to the bounty hunter, even in words. 

“Quiet modest, ain’t ya?” He commented. “No matter, Lucky Girl, took down the entire faction of the Triggermen with your help.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You what?!” You were stunned that he just casually dropped such news, it was a huge deal considering a lot of the chem running was definitely put to a halt transiently. “I knew you were a kick ass bounty hunter, but this is… Unheard of.”

“Hell, I ain't gonna lie to you, although you don't go tellin’ anyone I said this, but you're one hell of an informant. Wouldn't mind havin’ you around.”

“I don't think having me around would make things easier,” you pointed out. “Getting shot at is something I'm not fond of, plus I'd only get in the way, trust me.”

“What if we made a little deal, then? You get protection, a cut of the money maybe in exchange for information?”

“That's… generous of a bounty hunter of your stature…” you pointed out, unsure of this decision. There had to have been some hidden agenda behind it, there was no way someone like him willingly traveled with companions because they gave him a bit of an advantage. 

“It's not an offer I extend to many, especially since you seem much more reserved than most.” Whether this was a compliment or not was to be determined, but you did live up to that notion. “I just feel that you're a lucky rabbit who I can't allow others to exploit.”

“So you wanna exploit me first,” you said with an unsure smile. 

This made the man’s smile grow even wider, he liked the way you could talk to him without cowering like most others did. You spoke your mind. “Now I wouldn't call it exploiting, I'd rather call it a business proposal.”

“What's stopping you from killing me when my luck runs out, then?” 

Now this was a question for the ages, one he couldn't quite answer as honestly as the others. But it was a valid point regardless. “I'm sure I'll find a use for you, ain't worried about that.”

“Forgive me if I'm not jumping at the opportunity,” you replied with a chuckle. “Honestly I don't really have much going on as it is, so if you can manage to have me around, then I suppose I could help you out.” 

Why did you accept? That was something you hadn’t really put too much thought into, you barely knew this man except for the rumors and stories you heard about him through word of mouth. How could you accept this so easily? You pushed the nagging thought in the back of your mind and just settled on survival, this is why you did a lot of dubious jobs in the wastelands. 

You held out your hand and offered for him to shake it as your eyes met his. 

With a moment of hesitation, he reached out his hand and shook yours, the difference in your textures had sparked something against your skin, and you shivered. It wasn’t an indication of disgust, but you felt an odd sensation that tingled up your spine.

“Guess we have a deal, then,” the Ghoul replied with a smile.

“I suppose we do,” you agreed. 

Many months had gone by, and you two had become unstoppable with your knack for getting information and his knack for taking down even the biggest bounties. It was the talk amongst the raiders, the mercenaries, and the other bounty hunters. Many opposed you and wanted you out of the picture considering you made the Ghoul all the more dangerous than he already was, but you were untouchable when he was around. He knew what he had in his presence and he knew many would covet it, so he became possessive, a trait you didn’t think anyone, let alone this man, would convey toward you. 

You couldn’t leave his sight for very long in fear of being hunted down, but you didn’t mind having the company. It beat being alone so much, and you were living in comfort, or in your case, as comfortable as it could get. The Ghoul never stayed in one place for too long, and it was a lifestyle you'd been accustomed to, so it wasn’t too farfetched. Whatever chem that he would inhale regularly from turning feral had come in abundance ever since you came along, so he decided that his lucky rabbit’s foot wasn’t going anywhere, but that was a front overall. 

Deep down, despite the way he lived his life here after the bombs dropped, there was an emptiness, and he tried to fight the desire to fill that void for the longest time. Running into you piqued his curiosity and offered him an outward motivation more than anything, but slowly over time, he began to truly enjoy your company. He’d never admit it to you or anyone else, but the way he fought for you to keep you safe spoke louder than anything he could verbally say. 

It had been almost a year traveling in the Ghoul’s company when you found yourselves in a quiet time between bounties. You’d just gotten your weapons upgraded and some better clothes that didn’t have as many holes and tears in them, it had been a good haul you and the Ghoul pulled in with this contract. 

You both sat beside a fire you’d built and drank the slightly cold bottle of Nuka-Cherry you managed to get ahold of from part of someone's collection, you wouldn't soon forget the heartbreak in their eyes when the Ghoul offered for you to raid their collections after tying them up and bringing in their bounty. 

The Ghoul stared at you from across the fire, watching you carefully as you lay on the ground, staring up at a book you managed to find in an old shop. It helped pass the time between jobs, but you seemed a bit distracted as you read the same paragraph over and over again. You also had a good sense of when he was staring at you, so without looking away from the page, you smiled. 

“If you got something to say, I suggest you say it before I reread the same page again,” you teased, then turned your head to face him. 

He didn't budge, he remained fixated on you as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes focused on you but he hadn't said much since you arrived in the small rundown shack. 

You waved your hand at him and looked as if you were waiting for him to speak. “Radroach got your tongue?” You laughed and went back to your book, but that's when he decided to speak up. 

“Nah, just curious.”

“About…?”

“You.”

You scoffed. “Me? Nothing to be curious about, really.”

The Ghoul stared at you, wondering if you'd let your mysteriousness slip. “Course there's somethin’ to be curious about. Haven't told me nothin’ about you since we joined up.”

“I could say the same about you,” you pointed out, deflecting. “Didn't think we had to sit in a circle and share icebreakers.” 

He scoffed and shook his head at your words, but he didn't seem at all annoyed by your jokes. “Well, suppose we all have things to hide.” He looked away from you and surveyed the perimeter, making sure you two were still alone. 

You turned your head to look at him and then pushed yourself up, spun to face him, and sat with your legs crossed as you placed the book off to the side. “Okay, then, what do you wanna know, like how I could have lost a limb when I was eight because I ran out into the road and wanted to get onto a trolley? Or what about-” 

The Ghoul let out a sigh, one you had grown to know very well, but it only made you laugh. “Okay, fine, fine. What do you…wanna know?”

His eyes, the most human-looking eyes you’d ever seen on a ghoul, stared into what felt like your soul as he sat back and thought of a question. “What happened to your family?”

You swallowed and let out a sigh of your own, but you figured one day someone would ask, so you braced yourself for whenever it came. “We lived in Shady Sands, it was nice, I loved it, I remember being really happy. Till we suffered the bombing. It took out my parents and my brother. My brother saved my life, if it weren’t for him, I’d be dead.”

The Ghoul didn’t give condolences, he didn’t feel awkward now that something heavy had come up in conversation, but there was understanding in his eyes now that he had some understanding of who you were. 

“I do what I can to survive because they wanted me to, so I mean… I know I’ve done some things people would consider horrendous, but I’m not that person anymore who shies away from it. They’d understand, I think.” You stared off at the flickering embers of the fire, and the pain swept through as you thought of them, your family. You didn’t like to do it, you were sure they wouldn’t recognize you anymore, that you weren’t the person you used to be. But times changed, and people changed.

The Ghoul cleared his throat and gestured toward the horizon. “Radstorm rollin’ in, we should get inside the shack,” he huffed and stood from his seat on the ground, then kicked out the flames of the fire. He gathered his things while you did the same, packing up your things and stuffing them in your pack, and you hid inside while you fortified the area as best as you could. 

The storm wouldn’t bother him much but he knew that you weren’t immune to what he could withstand, so he ushered you inside and made sure that there wasn’t anything cracked or damaged that could allow any of the radiation to filter through. 

“Should be good till it passes,” he grumbled as he looked out the partially boarded-up window. “Shouldn’t be too bad for you, smoothie,” he teased, knowing you would appreciate the nickname that most ghouls called humans.

But you didn’t laugh or joke back in return, your mind was elsewhere as you stared through the board in the window, the rolling green clouds pushed through and made their way toward you. 

He walked up beside you and contemplated what was to get your attention, so he placed a gloved hand carefully on your elbow, which caused you to turn and look at him in confusion. “You good?”

You nodded even though you weren’t sure if you had been alright or not, but he wouldn't understand, he wouldn't want you, you figured. A small smile tugged the corner of your lips and you shrugged. “I'm alright.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” he warned as his eyes narrowed and he knew you well enough now to read your body language, he could see it all over you. “My lucky rabbit ain't too happy, I can tell.” 

“You don't gotta worry about me,” you assured with a small wave of your hand, dismissing the thought completely. 

His hand was now on your arm, resting there comfortably while it tightened its grip slightly, and this was only the second time he'd ever put his hands on you in such a tender way. You'd thought about the first time it ever happened, and you thought for a long time about it, how good it felt. You'd wanted more, but you knew that would be crossing the line. 

“Sure I do, you always looked out for me despite not knowin’ a damn thing, you just blindly followed me. I ain't used to that kind of loyalty, but I ain't gonna take it for granted neither,” the Ghoul explained. “Now, tell me what's wrong.”

You sighed and continued to stare out the window. “If I did then you'd leave, cowboy, trust me.” 

Once again, he scoffed, mainly at the cheesy nickname you gave him, but also the ridiculous notion that he'd let you out of his sight. “Ain't gonna happen, bunny,” he shot back, using the nickname you hated but secretly loved hearing him say. 

“If I say it, you can't get upset.” The rumble of the storm neared closer, the colors turned darker in hue and flashed a bright green, illuminating your skin through the cracks of the window. “Promise?”

The Ghoul nodded and stared down at you, waiting for your ‘profound confession’ that you were too afraid to say aloud. 

“I've been… lonely for quite some time while on the move, and sometimes it's just a feeling I get, but… When you touched my arm, it felt nice.” You swallowed, your mouth dry from the nerves. “I know it's a lot and I wouldn't suggest it with anyone else, but, we've known each other for a year now, and if you had any… urges, a craving of intimacy or anything, I could…help.”

The Ghoul was in shock by your statement and had no idea how to react, so he remained standing beside you in complete silence as he stared down at you. You refused to meet his gaze and couldn't look him in the eyes after that, afraid that he'd belittle you or cut you off altogether. 

“It was an idea, a stupid one at that, but it doesn't have to change anything between us, we can drop it and pretend it never happened. No harm, no foul.”

And still, he continued to remain there, rooted to the spot as he played your words over again in his head. Finally, there was something that clicked in his head. “You're sayin’ that… you'd want to get… intimate… with me?” There had been offers given to him through the years, and there had been times when things were rough, but having you here right now telling him you had more than just a quick fuck in mind was not what he was expecting to hear. What was going on in his head, you wanted to know. 

You finally turned to him, your expressions carried the shame, the embarrassment, all of the feelings you'd been suffering through during his silence. “That's what I'm saying. It's just like our proposal of helping each other out, it's just another version of that, if it's easier to look at it that way.”

The truth was he hadn't been intimate in a long, long time. It wasn't something that came naturally to him anymore, it was but a distant memory of the time he had back on this earth before everything was destroyed. But you offering something like that, you of all people, it was a deliciously tempting offer that he maybe shouldn't refuse. 

“A proposal,” he reiterated as his hand slid up your forearm slightly, his eyes flickered down to your face to gauge your reaction. 

You smiled warmly at his attempt, and maybe it was an odd offer, but it seemed he was considering it. “We don't have to–” 

“I ain't done this in… a very long time, bunny. I ain't the kind of ghoul who can supply that lovey feelin’ you're lookin’ for.”

“It doesn't have to be that, exactly. Besides, you already offer me protection, this would be just… an added bonus.”

He thought about it, truly thought about it, and the rumbling outside was drowned out by one thing that pushed forth in his mind: you. 

“I ain't sure how–” 

“I could help,” you offered with a soft tone, wondering if he'd allow such a thing as you took a small step closer. “Again, we don't have to do anything, it was just something that passed my mind. No harm done.” 

The Ghoul's hand pulled at your arm, which made you look up at him, questioning his intentions as his gaze went from hard and stoic to softened and tender. It was a strange look to see on his face, but you welcomed it nonetheless. You stepped closer to him, filling the gap between your bodies as you lingered for a moment, but he closed that space and looked down at you in a new light. He tried to channel that human side of himself when he was known as Cooper Howard. It was an old name, an ancient person that hadn't existed in years, but he was buried deep down within him. He had his moments of weakness, which belonged to the man he used to be, but maybe if you were here to remind him what it felt like… how could he refuse? 

“You ain't gonna tell a soul about this…” It wasn't a question, it was a warning. 

“Of course not, cowboy, our little secret,” you assured him with a smile.

That’s all it took to allow him to delve into that buried side within him, his hand lifted and gently placed it on your shoulder, then slowly skated down to your collarbone. He caressed the softness of your skin, allowing himself to become acquainted with your body slowly but surely, all while trying to remember how to make this enjoyable for the both of you. It was a learning curve, but the way you'd already begun responding to his touch only urged him to continue. 

You began to shrug out of your jacket which left you in your semi decent tank top, which clung to your body and accentuated your natural curves and dips. The Ghoul couldn't help but watch you eagerly, getting lost in the way you were taking things slow on his behalf as his hands slid around your waist. You wouldn't pressure him, or rush him, you'd allow him to do what he wanted as he explored what made you tick and what turned you on. 

Soon, he had guided you toward the floor where you laid out your blanket in an attempt to make it as comfortable as possible. Per his request, he had you lay back while he hovered over you, his hands easily removing the rest of your clothing –with your assistance, of course. 

Seeing you there in just a bra and underwear was a lot for him to take in, but he swallowed that image of you and couldn't find the strength to take his eyes off of you. “Damn, sweetheart…” He muttered as he grabbed you, squeezed you, and did what he could to lose himself in you. He wasn't sure what to start with first, so he looked to you for guidance. 

With a smile, you grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to you, looking into his eyes while you smiled softly. “Is it okay if I help?” You asked softly. 

The Ghoul didn't speak, he just nodded in response and hovered closer toward you, but when you captured his lips between yours, it was a surprise to be sure. He pushed himself firmly against you, keeping himself propped up with his arm while he placed the other around your neck, his fingers softly stroking your jaw as you kissed. His tongue pushed past your lips and swirled around in your mouth, but that smile he wore just made you feel all the more turned on by him. While you kissed him, your hand guided his toward your inner thighs, allowing him to feel how you'd already soaked through your underwear. 

He was impressed by how turned on you'd been and he'd done close to nothing, so to feel his handiwork, he slipped two of his fingers beneath the hem and slipped them through your slick. “Fuck, darlin’, you're so wet…” 

He wasn't sure if you'd want him to touch you more between your legs, but your hand was already guiding him to push those fingers inside of you, curling into your cunt.

“Oh fuck, cowboy,” you sighed against his mouth, your eyes closed while you felt your body tense from the touch. It had been ages since you felt this good, and he'd barely begun. 

While he dipped his fingers deep within you, he could feel himself growing painfully hard, and he thanked whomever above for the fact he still had his equipment to work with because soon he'd need to bury himself inside of you. He wasn't sure what was taking over right now, but the way you moaned out and moved your hips in tandem with his hand was a lot to handle for him. He'd want more, needed more.

“Want me to keep goin’...?”

“Yeah, like that,” you begged while your hand began to rub circles against your clit, helping yourself get to that point where all you could feel was the growing sensation that burned in your lower belly. It had been ages since you had someone pay attention to you like this, but the way he moved his hands seemed that he hadn't been prepared for something like this. 

“Hey, cowboy, want me to… show you some attention?” You offered softly, smiling up at him as you pushed yourself up, leaning on your elbows. 

He slowed his actions and slowly curled his fingers inside of you, watching as your face fell and you lost your thoughts, only focusing on his ers. fingers inside of you. His hollowed eyes stared at you and considered your offer. Was he ready for something like this? He was silent while he tilted his head, looking over your body as you lay there before him.

Wordlessly, he sat back and shifted his weight on his legs, allowing you the space you needed to do what you needed to do. He didn’t say a word as he watched you fumble with his gun belts, but it was entertaining to watch as you seemed more nervous than he was, yet internally, he felt the urge to panic. But he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction, not even you. He pulled off his other glove slowly, watching your eyes as you stared intently at the action, and he was curious if you liked his hands and how your gaze would be so fixated on them. 

“C’mon then,” he said as he slowly shrugged out of the weathered duster jacket, “you gonna give me some attention or were you just talkin’ big?” He always poked at you, toyed with you, and loved seeing how you reacted. Most times you paid him no mind, you just knew he was a big talker with the actions to back it up, but now, you were the one who could show him just what he needed.

When you leaned forward to go for his pants, you took notice of the body language he displayed; how his body tensed up whenever you’d touch him, how his breathing became almost nonexistent whenever you leaned in close, or how it seemed that he was too nervous to even lay a hand on you. It was fine though, you were helping each other out and that’s all you hoped you could do, so you didn’t leave him in suspense as you allowed him to spring free from his pants. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you first started, but it definitely wasn’t this, and you wouldn’t complain. A smile crept on your lips as you stared at him, your face lowered ever so slightly between his legs, wanting any sign of consent or objection. When all he did was stare, your tongue darted out to moisten your lips while your hand slowly grasped him.

He tried not to let the feeling catch him off guard, but to be touched like that after so long, hell, he was in heaven. His breath caught and he sucked in a deep breath while your mouth slowly lowered onto him, the warmth and wetness that traveled down his length sent shivers up his spine while he tried not to groan out loud. Slowly you lowered and raised your mouth on him, your hand following closely as you stroked him. He lurched forward for the first few deep plunges you made, but after that, he was almost putty in your hands while he leaned his head back and allowed himself to indulge in the way you were making him feel. His hand instinctively traveled to the back of your neck, then slid through your hair as he grabbed a handful of it. He wanted you to go faster, to bring him over that edge of the high he was chasing, but was that the right thing to do?

As if you understood what he was feeling, you picked up your pace and went faster, your mouth and tongue worked expertly together, until after a bit you pulled your mouth off with a slight pop, and you noticed how the Ghoul convulsed at the loss of your mouth. You weren’t sure how this would play out, but all you could think of was how much you wanted to feel him split you open. 

“Can I ride you?”

This was a question he hadn’t expected. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I want to ride you, you know, sit in your lap and do it like that, is that okay?”  

Oh, that’s what you wanted, damn, he was so out of touch with this and didn’t mean to look foolish, but with simulated confidence, he shot you a smirk and patted his half-bared thigh, beckoning you to him. “Then c’mere pretty thing,” he huffed. 

Smiling, you crawled over to him and straddled his lap, your eyes never leaving his while you grabbed his cock and steadied it. You both watched each other as you lowered yourself onto him, and you couldn’t recall who made the loudest moan, you or him. The feeling of him stretching you out after being so empty for so long was a feeling you wanted to hang onto, it was the way you slid onto him with slight difficulty that caused you to bite your lip a bit harder than anticipated. 

Feeling the way your walls clung to him, pulled him deep inside of you while you sunk deeper into his lap, you were afraid to move in case he was in over his head, but you reached out for his hands and placed them on your breasts. Soft words of encouragement like, ‘Touch me, please,’ and ‘Go harder, I’m begging you,’ had helped him enormously. You guided his hands across your body by showing him what you liked and what you wanted him to do, so he took that as his cue and allowed his fingers to skate across your supple skin. The difference of texture against you had lit a fire beneath your skin, feeling how rough and calloused he was as his fingers grabbed you firmly at your hips, his nails digging slightly into you. 

He sucked in a breath of air again and groaned out. “Fuck, you feel damn good,” he murmured while he allowed you to fuck yourself on him. He got the feeling of your rhythm, the way you bounced on him as you lifted yourself, then fell back onto him as he pushed himself deep within you. You could feel the intense pressure of him pushing himself against your cervix, but the sting of being stretched was still prominent, and that’s all you could focus on.

You cried out when he finally stopped you from moving and held you in place firmly, both hands planted on your hips while he thrust into you as the heels of his boots dug into the ground beneath him. “Oh my god,” you whimpered out, your hands placed on his ravaged chest, trying to keep your balance while he helped you out. 

The coil in your belly was tightening so much that you thought you’d explode, but you curled forward against him as you reached between your bodies and began to rub yourself, to which he marveled at the noises that came from your mouth. So he opted to push your hand aside and tried to replicate the movements you made against your clit, sloppy but small, tight circles with the pad of his thumb. If this was ecstasy, you never wanted to come back to the harsh reality of the wastelands again, you could get used to being here night after night with him like this, you loved the fantasy you began to build in your mind. 

“I ain’t gonna last like this,” the Ghoul warned between ragged breaths, one hand on your breast that popped out from your bra while the other was still holding onto your hip. His thrusts became inconsistent, signaling that he was close. 

“Please, cum for me, oh shit-” It was difficult to string together a full sentence, your thoughts were muddled while all you could focus on was that bliss that filled your body. 

You wished you could have gone longer, but you were hit with a powerful wave as your orgasm washed over you, and that tightly wound coil snapped inside of you. Your body hunched forward against the Ghoul’s chest while your hands lay flat against his abdomen, trying your best to catch your breath while his hips jerked, and with several more hard thrusts, he let himself go and pushed himself deep inside of you, holding his cock in place as he released what he’d been holding in. His bourbon-colored eyes held your gaze as you both sat in silence save for the heavy breathing, your hearts pounding within your chests as you remained stuck together, the glistening of your skin from the sweat that caused your hair to cling to your face… It was charming, beautiful even, to him. 

When you finally had the energy to shift off of his lap, you pushed yourself onto the blanket as you lay beside him as he hiked up his pants, barely putting any effort into moving himself as he allowed himself to lay back, partially laying on the destroyed wood floor, halfway on your blanket. You both didn’t say much after that, but you kept looking over at him, your eyes drinking in the sight of him while it seemed he was lost deep in thought. 

Maybe he regretted what you two did, but you knew you never would, you two had an understanding of one another. One that many others probably wouldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter if they did, you were content with having this for yourself, just a small slice of heaven you could recall when you wanted to escape the harshness of reality. This wasn’t about love, no, it couldn’t be, this was just something to take the edge off for you both.

The Ghoul had been looking at you while you spaced off, your eyes fluttered close and then snapped back open. You were exhausted, but you were forcing yourself to remain alert. The storm could pass any moment now, or become worse, you needed to-

“Hey, you should get some sleep,” the Ghoul instructed as he sat up, looking down at you while he rested his arms on his knees.

You grunted in protest. “What if we need to move because of the storm?” 

He just scoffed at your response. “You’ll be fine, little bunny, just rest. We got a while till it clears, we ain’t gonna be caught off guard.” He leaned back a bit to stretch his limbs, allowing that calmness to wash over him.

You wanted to fight him on it, but you were just too tired, you could feel how heavy your eyes were becoming, so you yawned and sighed instead. “Alright, fine, but if anything happens… wake me.” He nodded in response, but you reached out and gently touched his arm, pulling his attention back to you. “Whatever this was, I had a good time tonight, so thank you, cowboy.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sure, didn’t know what the hell I was doin’ after so long, but thanks for not callin’ me out too harshly on it.” 

You shrugged and decided to pull some of your clothes back on despite feeling the dampness from the sweat, or the stickiness from your shared orgasms. “Ain’t no shame in it, cowboy, so long as you had fun…” you smirked as you balled up your jacket and placed it under your head. “Plus it seemed you caught on eventually.” Your voice faded slightly while your eyes closed, but you were still listening to him breathing, your body closer toward his to feel that sense of comfort you grew to appreciate from him. 

After a moment, your breathing slowed, and your chest rose and fell gently while the Ghoul stared at you, admiring you in the sickly glow of green that illuminated your silhouette from outside. He smiled a little to himself while he twisted around to reach for his coat, then gently draped it over your body. He was surprised at himself for acting the way he was, but you weren’t awake to see this side of him, the side he hid from everyone and most days himself. While you slept, he kept watch as best as he could until he felt the same firm grip of sleep that slowly took hold, and as he leaned back against the softness of your shared blanket, his smile grew.

He wasn’t sure what the future held for either of you, but after tonight, the Ghoul had a strange feeling that things would be more interesting between you both, but for now, he’d bask in the feeling that this evening brought. 

#tinalbion writings #Cooper Howard #The Ghoul #Fallout The Ghoul #Fallout Cooper Howard #The Ghoul imagine #The Ghoul headcanons #The Ghoul x reader #the ghoul x f!reader #fem!reader #fallout series #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x f!reader #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul oneshot #cooper howard oneshot #fallout tv series

[kaciidubs]

For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.” 

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

 This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally. 

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly,  “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation. 

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,�� digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella , @butterflydemons ,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | Speak Now section | Version 7

Reem Acra custom (pictured similar)

During her “All Too Well” speech given on the first night of her Parisian tour dates Taylor said, "I think [this tour has] probably been the best experience of my life … But one thing I wish I would’ve gotten to do is … I wish I would’ve gotten to play all of our tours for you. And this tour, the Eras Tour, is a chance for us to bring you all of my favourite memories from those tours. Tours where I didn’t get to come see you in France—and get to collect all of them and experience all of it together."

And in that moment, a lot of her new costume choices (almost two dozen were added over the course of the opening weekend of the European leg) suddenly made sense. 

Why her 1989 skirts fall closer to their original 2015 tour circle skirt silhouette (the 1989 Tour had 8 dates in Europe). 

Why her Fearless dress so closely honours the black/white fringed Mandalay dress from the Fearless Tour (the Fearless Tour only visited half a dozen places in England). 

And, of course, why her Speak Now dress feels like a more voluminous take on the Reem Acra gown she wore on the original Speak Now tour in 2011. More star power = more skirt circumference. 

It’s even more apt that she would turn to that very same designer to recreate the magic. This particular gown is a custom take on Look 26 from the ‘Glamour A La Reem’ collection featuring beautiful almost seashell-like pleats and crystal embellishments. How amazing is it to see a more glamourous revival of a dress that was once just a simple, shin-length gown? And those ballet flats! 

A fun fact? Even for the dozen European dates of the Speak Now Tour, Taylor actually never wore her previous Reem Acra dress which debuted for the North American dates. For Europe, Taylor actually wore a different dress by Collette Dinnigan that (naturally) involved an on-stage costume change. 

Photo by Kevin Mazur/TAS24 via Getty Images

#taylor swift #tour #dress #reem acra #eras tour

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now

This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.

Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?

While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.

If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.

I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.

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Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.

I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!

I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.

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Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.

Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.

Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Color

less. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.

-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-

You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.

Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.

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