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sturnioz · 1 year ago

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⌗︙— giving chris a strip tease ! authors note. ok so this was supposed to be a short drabble but it ended up being 1.1k words.. :/ the fuck (also no part two for this for the time being !!)

"what the hell are you doin'?" chris laughs lightly as you push at his shoulders, forcing him to sit down at the edge of your bed, instead of greeting him with a kiss when he walks through the door after spending a few hours with his brothers.

although he had fun, he wanted nothing more than to come to your place and spend the rest of his day with you in your arms, so he's surprised by your abrupt actions — rather than your usual welcoming kiss.

the smile still lingers on his lips as he curiously watches you walk to your desk, pick up your phone, and scroll for a few seconds before tapping the screen. suddenly, a familiar song starts playing from the portable speaker he had left at your place a few days prior.

chris finds himself humming along, and he drums his fingers against his thighs and nods his head to the beat. but all of his movements come to a slow halt when he sees you pull at the silk robe you're wearing, revealing his favourite set of lingerie beneath. he swallows thickly, his mouth going dry at the sight.

"holy shit..." chris exhales deeply, blinking at you in shock as he struggles to tear his eyes away from your body. "what are you—what are you doin'?"

"nothing," you quip with a teasing smile, allowing your body to move to the rhythm of the music. you watch as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling to use his words.

chris goes to stand up from the bed, but you shake your head, telling him to remain seated. he huffs in response but does as he's told, his hands curling into tight fists on his thighs as he watches you intently.

he eyes you like a hawk, taking in your languid movements with deep breaths. his cock hardens in his jeans and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, wanting nothing more than to free himself as his fingers graze over his belt buckle, but he stops once again when you give him a look of warning.

chris laughs in annoyance, "are you, like, fuckin' around with me right now?"

you don't answer. instead your fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders before it pools to the floor, your breasts on display.

chris groans, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he tilts his head back with an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. he then looks back at you, biting down hard on his bottom lip while shaking his head.

you feel a sense of proudness and excitement seeing him so worked up over your mini performance.

you turn your back to him, swaying your hips side to side as your hook your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, and you slide them down your legs, revealing yourself bare to your boyfriend.

your lips stretch into a smile when you hear him curse behind you, and you peer your head over your shoulder to see his eyes staring at your ass, his fists twitching to touch you.

you turn back around to face him, and you slowly walk over to him. he leans back, his lips curling into a grin and his eyes shining as you crawl onto his lap and sit yourself down on his thighs.

he looks up at you, his hands coming around to slide over your hips before caressing your ass, pulling you against him but you tut with a shake of your head.

"stop trying to touch me." you tell him, tone light and teasing despite meaning it.

"i want to fuckin' touch you," chris shoots back, craning his neck to ghost his lips over yours to kiss you, but he huffs in disappointment when you pull away from him again. "i have my girl sittin' naked on top of me and i'm supposed to not to touch her? that's fuckin' crazy."

"just be patient."

"i don't have patience."

you roll your eyes, but you take a hold of his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. you litter a few, gentle kisses across his knuckles before pressing his fingers to your lips.

his eyes widen slightly when you push his index and middle finger past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers while keeping your gaze locked on his.

"hah—fuck," chris pants, laying his fingers flat against your tongue, shuddering when he feels you start to suck. "why are you doin' this to me, ma?"

pulling his spit covered fingers from your lips, you smile at him sweetly, "i'm putting on a show for you."

chris goes to tell you that this is definitely some sort of torture, that all he wants to do is flip you around and have you beneath him to fuck you instead. but his mouth drops open in shock when you slowly take his hand down your body and press his wet fingers to your cunt, hearing you moan so prettily as you ease them inside of you.

chris watches in silence as you fuck yourself on his fingers as if it were his cock, and he resists the urge to move — to rip himself out of your grip and hold you down as he fingers you until your legs give out.

but he's in a trance, watching you do everything yourself, hearing the moans and whines spilling from your lips that he wishes he could kiss.

"oh my god," chris murmurs when he feels your spongy walls clench around him as his fingers brush against the spot that has your body tensing above him. "a'ight. you gotta let me do somethin', ma."

you shake your head, breathless as you answer. "no."

"will you just—" chris cuts himself off with an exhale. he closes his eyes. "please? just let me fuckin' do somethin'. let me kiss you or—"

chris grunts when one harsh movement of your hips grinding on his fingers causes you to rub again his cock, making his eyes shoot open at the pleasure that trickles down his spine.

"you're gonna make me cum in my—shit, ma—"

"you sound so pretty when you beg," you hum softly, breath hitching at the back of your throat as you thrust his fingers deeper inside you, unable to control yourself as your head dips forward, resting your forehead to his.

"i'll beg all you want if you let me do somethin'," chris whispers quietly to you, panting due to the friction against his cock. "i'll beg for you all night, okay? just... just let me make you feel good too. let me touch you."

#©sturnioz #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut

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ycomgadget · 7 months ago

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Choosing the Best Wireless Bluetooth Speakers: Your Guide to Small and Mini Options

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#best wireless bluetooth speakers #best small speakers #mini speaker bluetooth #bt speaker #best mini bluetooth speaker #sound box speaker #bluetooth speaker near me #portable speaker price in india

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angelicgirlmj · 8 months ago

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100+ angelic christmas gift ideas

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!

uggs

victoria secret pjs

cozy fluffy socks

laneige lip balm

lush body lotions

rose quartz gua sha

glossier makeup

dior lip oil

sonny angels

yoga mat

silk pillowcases

litre water bottle

candles

jelly cats

cute claw clips

ear warmers

books

cute planner

posters or tapestries

camera

philosophy body washes

makeup bag

sylvanian baby blind bags

slippers

matcha

records or cds

five minute journal

desk or wall calendar

eye mask and bonnet

fluffy blankets

large candles

benetint lip tint

rare beauty products

cuticle oil and glass nail file

gold jewellery

silver jewellery

knee high boots

colourful/printed tights

pocket mirror

mugs

house plants

hair band or cute hair clips

gisou hair products

highlighters

charlotte tilbury makeup

pretty nail polishes

salt lamp or other lamp

tea bags (chai, green etc)

wallet or purse

bag charms

dyson hair wrap

your fave chocolates

makeup bag

quilt

vintage room decor

fluffy/patterned rug

new phonecase

slippers

headphones

rings

belt

portable speaker

crystals

fuzzy scarf and gloves

patterned tote bag

dried flowers

fairy lights

jewellery box or trinket dish

photo album

bath oils

incense

locket

bows or pretty scrunchies

sunglasses

mini crates or storage boxes

lululemon clothes

new bedsheets

laptop case

cute pillows

hair curlers

alarm clock

vintage/thrifted clothes

picture frames

snowglobes

miniature trinkets

personalised charm bracelet

makeup brushes

diffuser

face masks

lego

coffee table books

skims

tea infuser

reusable straw

warm jacket

sports bag

keyrings

jumpers

heels

charity donation

thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.

love, m.

p.s it’s never too early for christmas!

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#becoming that girl #girlblogging #girlhood #it girl #just girly things #it girl energy #that girl #pink pilates princess #christmas #pink aesthetic #pink christmas #gift ideas #wish list

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dakusan · 22 days ago

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S U N K I S S E D

Lee Felix x Reader | beach date, piña coladas, salt-sweet kisses

🏖️ synopsis: one piña colada. two hands. three kisses you didn’t mean to mean that much. he dragged you to the beach. dunked you in the ocean. tasted your smile like it was sugar and sunburn. said i love you and now the world smells like salt and him. this was just a day, right? just one day? then why does your chest still feel like it’s holding the tide.

💌a/n: I’M SO TIRED I COULD BITE DRYWALL. fuck work. fuck capitalism. anyway. here’s some sun-dazed soft chaos with lee fucking felix. it’s piña colada flavoured. p.s. reblogs = piña colada kisses p.p.s. if this made your spine curl or your feet kick, tell me. validate me. i’m delicate. p.p.p.s. YES I SAW THE ASKS. I WILL GET BACK TO YOU. DON’T PANIC. STAY CALM. I LOVE YOU.

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers.

🎧 » Our Summer — TXT « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:30 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

You feel the ocean before you see it.

Warm wind tousles your hair through the rolled-down car window, carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen, distant grills and crashing waves. The sun hangs lazy in the afternoon sky—no longer sharp, but melting, golden, like butter smeared across the horizon. It paints the car in warmth and shadow as Felix hums along to some lo-fi remix playing from the aux cord, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel, completely at peace.

He glances over and grins.

“You ready, baby?”

You nod, but he’s already parking—spinning the wheel with one hand, sunglasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose. He parallel parks like he’s done this a hundred times, probably because he has. This is his spot. You know that now. His beach. Felix grew up near the water, and the ocean seems to respond to him like an old friend.

“Let me grab everything,” he says, taking off his sneakers and hopping out barefoot like the sand won’t burn him.

You blink.

“You’re not wearing shoes?”

“Shoes are for people who hate joy.” he shrugs, already circling the car.

You watch as he opens the back and starts pulling out so much stuff you didn’t know he packed: a striped beach umbrella, a folded blanket, a massive tote bag, his mini JBL speaker, a portable cooler—wait, is that a pineapple-shaped cup?

“You’re unhinged,” you laugh.

Felix beams, tucking the tote under one arm like a surfboard. “Incorrect. I’m prepared. You’ll thank me when you’re sipping cold piña coladas while other people suffer with warm water bottles and broken Bluetooth speakers.”

You raise a brow. “You actually brought piña coladas?”

“Homemade,” he says proudly, lifting the cooler with both hands like a trophy. “One with rum, one without. Because I love you and you’re a lightweight.”

You feel your face heat up at that. He didn’t have to say it like that. Like he loves you. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s nothing.

“I’ll carry the blanket,” you mutter, grabbing it before your heart combusts.

The two of you trek toward the shore. The sand is soft and hot beneath your sandals—Felix doesn’t flinch, of course—and you pass families packing up for the day, towels dotted with sunscreen bottles, and kids squealing as the waves lap at their ankles. The air is rich with summer: salty and sticky and full of distant laughter.

Felix leads you to a quieter area, not too far from the lifeguard tower, but away from the crowd. He plants the umbrella like a flag and spreads the blanket with practiced flair. Within seconds, the little beach setup looks like something out of a Pinterest board—cosy and colourful, with two folded towels, the cooler nestled between them, and the pineapple cup sitting on the blanket like a mascot.

He collapses dramatically onto the towel. “Beach achieved.”

You lower yourself beside him, brushing grains of sand off your knee. “This is impressive.”

He rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand, and looks at you like he’s trying to memorize your outline.

“You haven’t even seen the playlist I made.”

“There’s a playlist?”

Felix grins, slipping his phone out of the tote and connecting it to the speaker. Music spills out—something breezy and slow, warm vocals over acoustic guitar and soft drums.

“There,” he says. “Perfect.”

You take a deep breath. The wind cools your sun-warmed skin and your shoulders start to relax. You lean back on your elbows, eyes closed, letting the sound of waves and Felix’s music wrap around you like a lullaby.

Then—

“Babe,” Felix whispers, voice suddenly close.

You open one eye. “Hm?”

“You’ve got five seconds to run before I throw you in the ocean.”

Your eyes fly open.

“What?!”

He’s already standing, shirt half-unbuttoned, mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and god, he looks like every summer daydream you've ever had.

“Five!” “Felix—” “Four!” “I will end you—” “Three!”

You’re on your feet before he hits two, sprinting toward the shoreline with his laughter chasing you through the sand.

You hit the water first, crashing in up to your knees, heart racing, lungs burning from laughing too hard. The sea rushes around your legs, cool and foamy and endless. You barely manage to turn around before—

“GOT YOU!”

Felix barrels toward you with wild purpose, arms outstretched like a kid on a sugar high, and you scream—half genuine terror, half pure delight—as he lunges.

You try to dodge but he catches your waist mid-turn, lifting you clear off the sand like it’s nothing.

“Felix, no—NO—”

Your words cut off into a shriek as he drops you into the water, both of you splashing down in a dramatic mess of foam and limbs.

You resurface, gasping and soaked, hair clinging to your cheeks, saltwater stinging your lips—and Felix is already laughing like he just won a Nobel Prize.

“You’re a menace,” you splutter, wiping your eyes.

“A charming menace,” he grins, ducking under again.

Before you can recover, he pops back up with water dripping down his temple, eyes sparkling. The ocean turns him golden, kissed by sun and salt—his wet hair curling at the ends, skin glowing, lips pink from smiling too much. He looks like summer made a boy and gave him freckles.

And he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing on this beach.

“You okay?” he asks, a little softer now, still panting from laughter.

You nod, breath catching.

“Yeah. Just—cold.”

“Come here,” he says immediately.

Then his arms are around you—warm despite the water, firm as he pulls you against his chest. Your soaked shirt sticks to your skin, your legs bumping his underwater, and your cheek rests over his heart, which is still beating fast from running. He holds you close like he forgot how to let go.

“I’m sorry I dunked you,” he murmurs into your hair. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“I mean, you screamed in the funniest way—”

You pinch his side and he yelps, pulling back just enough to laugh, to catch your face in his hands.

There’s a pause.

The kind that stretches, heavy and full.

The waves hush beneath it. The breeze slows. And the look he gives you shifts—bright amusement melting into something quiet, raw. More than playful. More than just a joke.

You can feel the moment tipping. Like something about it might last forever if you let it.

He leans in close.

But doesn’t kiss you yet.

Just presses his forehead to yours, skin damp, noses brushing, breath tangled.

"This feels like the kind of memory I'll dream about in winter."

You don’t say anything—you don’t need to, you can't. You just wrap your arms around his waist and stay there a while, half-floating, pressed chest to chest in the shallows like the tide only exists to hold you both.

Eventually, he pulls back, water dripping from his chin, and smiles like mischief reborn.

“…Now I’m gonna need a piña colada. You?”

You snort. “Only if you don’t steal mine.”

“No promises.”

Back on the blanket, everything feels slower. Softer. The air is thick with heat and the sharp citrus of sunscreen, the kind that clings to your skin no matter how many waves you’ve let wash over you. Felix hands you a towel, then flops beside you like he’s been shipwrecked. “I’m officially eighty-five percent ocean now.”

You laugh, squeezing water from your hair as you sit beside him, knees brushing. The breeze picks up slightly, salty and warm, and you pull the towel tighter around your shoulders. Felix reaches for the cooler without lifting his head.

“Okay,” he says dramatically. “Now it’s time for my pièce de résistance.”

He opens the lid and pulls out two mason jars, chilled and dewy with condensation. Inside: icy piña coladas, the color of sand and sunshine, topped with tiny wedges of pineapple and paper umbrellas bent just slightly from the cold.

You stare. “You really went all out.”

Felix just hands you one with a proud grin. “Try it first. Tell me I’m not the boyfriend of the year.”

You raise an eyebrow, but take a sip.

Oh. Oh no.

It’s good.

Cold and creamy, just the right amount of coconut and pineapple, with a hidden but sharp edge of rum. Enough to warm the back of your throat.

You let out an embarrassingly loud groan. “Felix.”

His grin widens. “Right?!”

“This is dangerously good. Like, blackout-on-a-beach good.”

“I’d carry you home,” he offers sweetly. “Like a drunken princess.”

You take another sip just to spite him. “I’d haunt you forever if you let me embarrass myself like that.”

He hums, lying back on the towel with a lazy stretch, arms folded behind his head. “That sounds worth it.”

You shake your head and settle beside him, resting on your elbows again. The sun is lower now, skimming just above the waterline. The sky is dipped in pastel brushstrokes—peach, lavender, gold bleeding into a dusky blue. Everything feels slow and stretched out. Like time’s holding its breath.

You sip again, then glance sideways.

He’s looking at you.

He’s been looking at you.

And something about the moment changes—shifts in the breeze, sharpens behind your ribs. His smile fades into something quieter, deeper. Less playful, more real.

“Can I…?” he starts, but doesn’t finish.

Instead, he reaches out and brushes your bottom lip with his thumb, gentle and grounding. You hadn’t realized the drink left a little sheen of coconut on your mouth until he swipes it away.

He lingers there, thumb just barely touching skin.

“You had some…” he murmurs. His voice is lower now. Tinted with want.

Your breath catches.

“Is that your excuse?” you whisper.

He nods, almost bashful. “Kinda.”

You tip your head forward. Just a little.

“I won’t stop you,” you say softly.

And then he’s kissing you.

It’s slow. Warm. Not rushed, not showy—just his mouth on yours with a kind of tenderness that melts right through your bones. He tastes like coconut and salt and something sweet that might just be him. His hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing light shapes along your jaw, like he’s making sure this is real.

You shift closer, knees brushing, breath syncing. He sighs into it—low and content—and deepens the kiss just slightly, tongue sweeping gently across your lower lip before pulling back.

When he opens his eyes, they’re softer than the sky.

“You taste like summer,” he whispers.

You blink. “That’s cheesy.”

He grins, a little sheepish. “Yeah, but it’s true.”

You pause.

Then lean in again, close enough your noses bump.

“Then kiss me again,” you murmur, “before summer ends.”

And he does.

Right there, under the half-open umbrella, on a towel that smells like sunscreen and him, with piña colada melting in the sand beside you. This kiss is deeper. Felix leans into it with more certainty this time—his hand sliding around the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing behind your ear like he’s learning you by feel.

You melt into him like the tide pulling at your ankles earlier—inevitable. His lips part just enough for your breath to sync, and when your hand slips up to rest on his chest, you can feel his heart beating like a secret he’s been holding in all day.

Felix kisses like he’s memorizing. Like he’s planning to replay it on loop, forever.

When you finally pull back, your eyes meet his own, breath slightly heavy.

You exhale slowly. “That was…”

“I know,” he says, smiling, but his voice is quieter, softer now. “I know.”

The sunlight catches in his eyelashes as he looks at you, and you’re struck—again—by just how beautiful he is. Not just the freckles, or the glint of mischief always hiding behind his grin.

It’s all of it. It’s him.

You lie back on the blanket, breath still uneven, and stare up at the sky.

Felix joins you a second later, lying close enough for your arms to touch. His pinky brushes yours, and he hooks it gently. For a while, you both just lie there—watching the sky bleed into deeper pastels, listening to the waves, your hands tangled like roots. His thumb strokes slow circles into your palm, rhythmic and grounding, like he needs to be touching you to believe this is real.

After a minute, he speaks.

“I think I wanted today to be perfect,” he murmurs.

You turn your head. “It is.”

“Yeah, but… I wanted it to feel like something you’d remember. Like something you’d want to come back to.” He looks at you then, eyes soft. “I want to be someone you come back to.”

You don’t answer immediately.

Instead, you reach over and brush a wet curl out of his face. Your fingers trail along his jaw. He closes his eyes at your touch.

“I already do,” you whisper.

His eyes open again—glassy in the gold light, mouth parted like he’s about to say something but can’t quite find it. Then he scoots closer, pulling you gently into his side. His arm drapes over your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder where he presses a kiss into your hair.

The world tilts a little. Slows. Becomes small and full and sweet.

Somewhere down the beach, a guitar strums out of someone’s speaker. Children laugh in the distance. Seagulls cry overhead.

But here? Here it’s just Felix. The sun. Your skin still damp with ocean. His thumb brushing lazy shapes against your hipbone.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” you say.

He hums. “Then don’t.”

“Is that allowed?”

“With me?” His voice is low now, warm and sleepy. “Anything’s allowed.”

Eventually, the sun began to dip. Leaving behind indigo skies and soft wind as the last of the beachgoers started packing up and wandering off. The tide pulls long and low in the distance, gentle and rhythmic.

You slip your feet into your sandals, but Felix crouches next to you before you can finish, fingers brushing over your ankle. He gently takes the straps out of your hands and shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not walking through this sand after I made you soft all day.”

“I can carry my own shoes, y’know.”

He grins up at you, shoes in one hand, other already reaching for yours. “I know. But I like doing it.”

You don’t argue.

The two of you begin the slow walk back across the darkening sand. He walks close, arms brushing. His fingers curl around yours like a habit. Every now and then, he swings your joined hands gently, like he can’t help it.

It's quiet between the two of you but not awkward. Comfortable. Warm. Warm like the sun. And you don't dare break that silence. Neither does he.

And when you reach the car, he opens the passenger door for you without a word, like instinct. Like love. You slide in slowly and he puts your shoes in the back, tosses his towel in, then closes the trunk with a thud. And for a moment, he just stands there.

Looking at you.

The sky behind him is streaked with faint stars and the first breath of night, but you can still see his face clearly in the dusky blue. He looks a little flushed. A little like he’s trying not to fall into something he already fell into hours ago.

You get out of the car again before he can talk himself out of whatever he’s about to do.

“I’m not done kissing you,” you say softly.

He exhales a sound that’s almost a laugh—almost a gasp—and takes two steps forward before his mouth is on yours again.

This kiss isn’t sun-drunk or playful or sugar-sweet. This kiss is wanting. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in with a low sound in his throat like he needs this—needs you. Your fingers slide under the open collar of his shirt, gripping his shoulder as he presses you gently against the side of the car. The metal is cool against your back, but his body is all heat.

His other hand settles on your waist, thumb stroking slow and possessive. His kiss deepens—like he’s trying to tell you something without language. Like this is the part where I mean it. Like I’d stay here forever if you let me.

When he pulls back, barely, your noses still brush. You’re both out of breath.

He’s looking at you like you hung the stars he parked under. “You feel like the rest of my life,” he says, almost afraid of it.

You blink, stunned silent.

He doesn’t wait for a reply—just kisses your forehead, gentle and soft. Almost feather-like. Then he opens the passenger door again and helps you inside like he didn’t just shift the entire axis of your world.

You settle into the seat. Your legs are still sandy, your lips a little swollen, and your chest’s doing that thing where it doesn’t know what to do with too much feeling.

He closes the door gently, walks around to the driver’s side, and gets in.

Keys in. Engine humming low. And right before driving off, Felix takes one more look at you. Smiles. Eyes sparkling.

"I love you."

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #lee felix #필릭스 #felix x reader #felix fluff #tendertuesday

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mpreglover225 · 6 months ago

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The early morning sun is just starting to warm the backyard pool at the Alpha Papa Rho (APR) house on the University of Texas campus. Soft chatter and the clinking of ice in pitchers of lemonade drift through the air. It’s APR’s Annual Pool Day, a tradition where the fraternity’s pregnant members are treated to a day of pampering and relaxation—no small feat in a world where male pregnancy is both celebrated and hard work.

Inside the house, Jake Gutierrez, APR’s social chair, is going over last-minute details. He’s at six months himself, cradling a distinctly visible belly under his loose-fitting tank top. He’s already panting slightly from the hustle of organizing, but his eyes light up when he sees a group of pregnant brothers slowly make their way out onto the pool deck. Each is sporting swim trunks, some with an undone button at the top to accommodate their bumps. They exchange excited greetings, grateful for a break from finals-week chaos.

Cameron Smith, who’s nearly eight months along, lowers himself into a lounger with a relieved sigh. Nearby, Malik Robinson—leaning back on another chair—chuckles about how he’s never been so grateful for a day off from classes. “I swear, if I have to waddle across campus one more time, I’ll camp out in my lecture hall,” he jokes, resting both hands on his belly.

A handful of fraternities from across campus start arriving, each group bringing their own “spa station” in a friendly competition to outdo the others’ hospitality. The men of Kappa Theta roll up with a set of portable massage tables, determined to provide soothing back and foot massages for the APR dads-to-be. Meanwhile, the Omega Delta Nu brothers set up a mini fruit-smoothie bar under a bright canopy, offering fresh blends to keep everyone hydrated in the Texas heat.

Soon, the poolside transforms into a laid-back festival. A speaker plays a soft soundtrack of summer tunes, and there’s laughter when Zach Coleman tries to sip from his smoothie while lying on a lounger, nearly spilling it over his belly. “Dude, watch the baby!” jokes Hunter Evans, who’s only four months along and still marvels at how quickly some of his fraternity brothers have grown.

The massages begin in earnest about an hour in. The Kappa Theta guys respectfully ask each pregnant brother about pressure preferences. Cameron’s relief is palpable as he finally gets the knots in his lower back worked out. “I might not leave this table,” he half-murmurs, half-laughs. Over in the next station, belly rubs are offered—some find it silly at first but end up loving the gentle circular motions that ease pressure and make them feel cared for.

Throughout the day, people drift between stations: foot rubs, gentle shoulder massages, or simply floating in the pool to take the weight off tired feet. Between breaks, Jake hustles to ensure fresh towels are on hand, pausing to catch his breath whenever his baby gives a firm little kick.

By late afternoon, the pregnant brothers are dozing contentedly under umbrellas, bellies full of fruit smoothies and minds free of deadlines. Polaroid snapshots of the event are pinned to a corkboard near the refreshments: a gallery of glowing faces, rounded stomachs, and wide smiles. As the sun begins its slow descent, the visiting fraternities pack up, exchanging high-fives and promises to return next year.

#male pregnancy #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #pregnantman #mpreg birth #mpreg art #mpreg ai #mpregbirth

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technician-the · 2 months ago

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Radio Shack Mini Amplfier - Speaker

I use this little speaker with my synth setup, it runs on a 9 volt, and is a nice little throw in for my cable box. Its not a great speaker, but its very portable.

Apparently I forgot to post this?

#blender3d #3d art #blender #retro #retro tech #90s #90s aesthetic #90s nostalgia #radio shack #music

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yuwenspecialll · 3 months ago

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jazz…why?

Hey dude, what's up?

- @tom-who-is-just-there

who gave you this url.

#i'm pulling out my mini portable speaker as we speak.#<- DONT U DARÉ

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mrkis · 2 years ago

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⛧ this is apart of my ‘MARK BDAY REQUEST SPECIAL’ event that i will be doing for his bday (wednesday-sunday). requests are OPEN for this.

REQUEST: ⇢ Thank you so I was thinking that y/n could you know give him a little sexy “show” iykwim😏😏😏when he comes home from hanging out with the boys

⛧ WARNINGS: established relationship, 18+ content, strip tease, ass grabbing, finger sucking, fingering(reader fucks mark's fingers), slight dry humping,

“What are you doing?” Mark laughs lightly as you push at his shoulders to make him sit on the edge of your bed, not even greeting him with a kiss when he walks through the front door after spending a few hours with the boys, playing a few arcade games and sharing a meal for his birthday.

Although he had fun, he wanted nothing more than to come to yours and spend the rest of his birthday with you in your arms so he was shocked when he found you in your bedroom and didn’t even kiss him for a quick hello, only leading him towards your bed with slight pushes.

But the smile still lingers on Mark’s lips as he watches you, finding you a little funny and intriguing as you walk to your desk to pick up your phone, scrolling through something and tapping the screen only for a familiar song to play from the portable speaker he had left here previously.

Mark doesn’t fight the urge to hum the song to himself, drumming his fingers against his thighs and nodding his head to the beat, but all of his movements come to a slow halt when he sees you pull at the silk robe you’re wearing, revealing his favourite set of lingerie underneath and he swallows thickly, mouth dry.

“Wow” He gapes with a whisper, blinking at you in shock as he struggles to tear his eyes away from your chest. Mark repeats, “What are you… what are you doing?”

“Nothing” You quip with a teasing smile, allowing your body to move to the beat of the music, watching him as he closes and reopens his mouth a few times, unable to get his words out as he chokes on his own spit. Mark goes to stand up from the bed but you wag your finger at him, telling him to remain seated and his bottom lip juts out into a pout but he does as he’s told, hands curling into tight fists on his thighs as he watches.

He eyes you like a hawk, taking in your movements with deep breaths, cock hardening in his jeans and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, wanting nothing more than to free himself of his clothes and his fingers graze over his belt buckle, but stops once again when you give him a harsh look.

“Baby…” Mark laughs again, feeling flustered as he licks at his lips. “Are you, like, joking with me right now?”

“Not at all” Your fingers reach behind you to unclip your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders before it pools to the floor by your feet, breasts on display for him to see.

Mark groans softly, tongue prodding at his cheek as he tilts his head backwards with a sigh, rolling his eyes before looking back at you, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes his head at your actions and you feel a sense of proudness and excitement seeing him so worked up from your mini performance.

You turn your back to him, swaying your hips as your hook your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and you slide them down your legs, revealing yourself bare to your boyfriend and your lips stretches into a big smile when you hear him curse, peering over your shoulder to see his eyes zoned in on your ass cheeks, his fists twitching to touch you.

Fully facing him, you sultry walk on over and he leans back slightly, lips curling into a grin and eyes shining as you crawl onto his lap and sit yourself down on his thighs that tense beneath you. He looks up at you, hands coming around to glide over your hips before caressing your ass, pulling you harder against him but you tut with a shake of your head.

“Stop trying to touch me” You tell him, tone light and teasing despite you meaning it and he whines as you grab his wrists to pull his hands away.

“I want to touch you” Mark says back, craning his neck to ghost his lips over yours to kiss you but he makes a noise of disappointment when you pull away from him again. “I have my girl sitting naked on top of me and I’m expected not to touch her? Baby, you know that’s, like, insane right?”

“Just be patient” You bring his hand to your mouth, littering a few soft kisses across his knuckles before pressing his fingers to your lips, his eyes widening comically when you push his index and middle finger past the plush and into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits while remaining eye contact.

“You’re crazy” He pants. “Oh Jesus—fuck” Mark lays his fingers flat against your tongue, shuddering as he feels you suck. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Pulling his spit covered fingers from your lips, you smile at him sweetly, “I’m putting on a show for my birthday boy”

Mark goes to tell you that this is torture, that he’d want nothing more than to flip you around and have you beneath him to fuck you instead of you teasing him, but his mouth drops open in shock when you drag his hand down your body and press his wet fingers to your entrance, hearing you moan so prettily as you ease them inside of you.

He watches in awe as your fuck yourself on his fingers as if it were his cock and he resists the urge to curl them, to rip out of your grip and finger fuck you until your legs tremble around him but he’s in a trance watching you do everything yourself, moans and whines spilling from your lips that he wishes to kiss.

“Oh my god” Mark mumbles when he feels your walls clench around him as they brush against the spot that has your body tensing above him. “Baby, let me do something. Anything”

You shake your head, breathless as you answer, “No”

“Please” His eyes are wide, filled with desperation and want, and it makes your chest spread with warmth. “Please—fuck—let me do something. Let me kiss you—” He cuts himself off with a grunt as one harsh movement of your hips has you rubbing down on his cock, making his eyes roll back at the pleasure that strikes him and he begins to babble, “You’re going to make me cum in my—shit, oh baby—please?”

“You’re so pretty when you beg” You hum, breath hitching at the back of your throat as you thrust his fingers deeper inside you, unable to control yourself as your head dips forward, resting your forehead to his.

“I’ll beg all you want if you let me do something” He tells you quietly between his own panting due to the friction against his cock. “I’ll beg for you all night… Just let me make you feel good too”

©mrkis

#mark lee smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #[ mark bday special ! ]#mark smut #mark lee x reader

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