#I think I will enjoy doing these greatly.

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader - A Little Birdie Told Me

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

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Thank you the anon who sent in this request, it was such fun to write this!

L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Jealous Sylus, hints of mature themes towards the end

Sylus was fully expecting to get back home to feathers, metal and blood everywhere; what else was he meant to expect when leaving you and Mephisto together for a prolonged period of time. 

You two didn’t get along. 

Sylus knew this. 

But you owed him, since he looked after the dove you found, just before going away on a work trip. 

Much to his own surprise though, you didn’t argue with him when he asked you to check in on Mephisto; which naturally only made him more suspicious. 

You were planning something. 

He didn’t know what, but the mischievous glint that was showing in your eyes as he left, confirmed his suspicions. 

That’s why he was expecting at least part of his mansion to be somewhat trashed. 

But it wasn’t. 

There were no stray feathers. 

No shards of metal. 

No specks of blood from where Mephisto could have pecked you. 

There was nothing; everything was exactly how he left it. 

And instead of his home  being filled with the sound of yours and Mephistos petty squabbles, something that he’d gotten quite used to recently, his home was silent. 

‘Maybe Luke and Kieran were right,’ he thought to himself, hanging his leather jacket on the coat hook by his front door, thinking back to what the twins had told him a few days ago as he made his way down the hall. 

According to the twins, you and Mephisto were getting along fine; more than fine in fact, according to them you two were almost inseparable, like you were friends. 

But that was a ridiculous thought, you two didn’t get along, you’d both told him that, which is what made the picture he got sent even more puzzling. 

The picture was of you, reading, as you so often do, but this time Mephisto was perched on the arm of the chair next to and your free hand was on his head, petting him.

Was that part of the reason he came back a few days earlier than he’d intended to from his trip?

Yes. 

He needed answers. 

Though it was also because that picture made him realise just how much he hated being away from you and how much he hated that he wasn’t the one being given your attention. 

Granted you could be a pain in the ass at times, sassing him at any given opportunity as well as always pushing him to do the ‘right’ thing…but he’d grown to love those qualities about you. 

You changed him. 

He knew you’d had an affect on him long ago, however it wasn’t until recently whilst he was away from you that he realised two things, 1) How much of an affect you’d truly had on him and 2) How much he’d missed everything about you; your witty and sarcastic remarks, the way your infectious smile could light up a room, the way you hummed  along to whatever song was playing through your headphones as you danced in his kitchen, completely oblivious to his presence. 

Everything. 

And now that he was home, he just wanted to see you. 

Needed to see you. 

That was the whole reason why he asked you to look after Mephisto in the first place, not that he’d ever tell you that. 

He walked into the living room, a soft smile quickly forming on his lips as he saw you fast asleep on the sofa, your body wrapped in the blanket you’d claimed as yours after a few visits, your music blaring into your ears at the loudest possible volume. 

Though Sylus’ smile faltered as he took a few more steps closer to you, allowing him to see his mechanical bird nestled in the crook of your neck, little satisfied coos left his beak as the two of you continued to sleep peacefully. 

Of all the scenarios he thought he’d be walking into, this was the most unexpected; a complete juxtaposition to what he’d assumed he’d be walking into.

He should’ve felt relief in the fact that neither of you had killed the other, but relief was not the emotion he was feeling. 

Jealousy however was. 

The same feeling that he’d tried to push to the side when he saw the picture from the twins

That’s how maddening his feelings were for you, only you could ever make him jealous of Mephisto. 

What had happened whilst he was away?

Had he somehow ended up in an alternate reality where you and Mephisto were friends? 

He shook his head at the absurd thoughts racing around in his head; but what he was seeing was exactly that, absurd. 

He wanted to wake you so he could get some answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, mainly because of how peaceful you looked. 

Mephisto though was different. 

Sylus had no issue in waking him up and thanks to the music you were listening to, you wouldn’t be disturbed by his annoyed caws once he was awoken. 

~~~~~~

Safe to say, Mephisto was very unhappy at being woken up. 

And his grouchiness was naturally directed towards the person who’d disturbed him. 

“All I’m asking is, what suddenly made you two so close?” Sylus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the jealousy remarks the crow was making. 

One thing was immediately clear to Sylus, Mephisto had certainly adopted your sassy retorts to questions. 

“I’m not,” Sylus denied; only to be mocked by the bird in front of him. 

He was becoming as infuriating as you were. 

“Are you two arguing?” You asked, your words catching Sylus off guard; he’d been so busy interrogating Mephisto that he’d been completely oblivious to you waking up or finding them in the study that they were currently standing in. 

“No,” Sylus answered simply, turning around to look at you. 

You were leaning against the doorframe of his study, your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze; it was like you were trying to read his thoughts. 

Thankfully, mind reading was not a skill you possessed. 

Much to Sylus’ dismay though, he didn’t need to answer you, because Mephisto answered for him. 

“Mephisto says you’re lying,” you stated, biting back the triumphant smile that wanted nothing more than to spread across your lips. 

Sylus didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she understood the Crow now behind him, or the fact that said crow had betrayed him in such a way. 

“I’m aware of what he said, sweetie,” Sylus pointed out, his voice laced with frustration as he quickly shot a glare at Mephisto. 

He knew you were going to ask why he was lying and just like that, those very words fell from your lips. 

Once again, Mephisto answered before Sylus could even open his mouth to speak; before flying very, very quickly out of the study, leaving you and Sylus alone together. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to Sylus. 

Sylus didn’t want to admit it, but you were annoyingly persistent when you wanted answers. 

So unless he wanted to be continuously asked about Mephistos comment (Which he didn’t) he had no other choice to answer your question honestly.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low as you continued walking towards him, only stopping once you were directly infront of him. 

“Why?” You pushed.

He hated to admit that he was jealous; let alone saying the reason why…revealing how much he really craved your attention.

“Because I-” his words trailed off as he began to notice a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the realisation dawning on him in that very moment. 

You already knew why. 

This had all been some elaborate plan to get him to admit his feelings for you. 

“Who told you?” Sylus questioned, watching as your smirk grew.

“Who told me what?” You teased coyly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie,” he whispered, leaning down slightly so that his lips were brushing over the shell of your ear. 

His words alone were enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“Who’s idea was this, yours or Mephistos?” He asked, placing a feather light kiss just under your ear. 

“Both,” you breathed out; reveling in the closeness between the two of you. 

“Thought you two didn’t get along?”  He asked quietly. 

Granted, you and Mephisto had your differences, and you didn’t always get along, but recently you’d grown quite accustomed to one another. 

Of course you squabbled, but the same way someone would with a sibling.

You knew Sylus was going to ask you to look after Mephisto, because the crow had told you so in secret.

That’s when the two of you came up with this plan. 

A plan to make Sylus jealous. 

You were never one hundred percent sure of his feelings towards you, you flirted often enough, but some people just had that type of connection, it didn’t mean he felt the same way about you, that you did him. 

“Things changed,” you answered back, your voice just as quiet as his.

“Is it true?” You asked, changing the topic of conversation as you turned your head slightly, so now your lips were inches apart. 

“Is what true?”

“What Mephisto told me about how you feel about me?”

Being this close to him was torture for the both of you; both of you waiting for the other to make the final move and close the little distance that was between you both.

He saw the anxiety creeping in your y/e/c orbs as you waited for him to answer your question. 

But he knew that he could do something better than telling you how he felt, he could show you. 

And with that thought in mind, he closed the distance between your lips. 

It took you a few seconds to actually process what was happening; but once you did you wasted no time in allowing your eyes to flutter shut and melt into the kiss. 

The kiss started off gentle, soft, the two of you clearly processing what was happening; but everything changed when you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

His hands found a home on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified.

“Does that answer your question, kitten?” He murmured, pulling away from you slightly. 

“I don’t know, I think I could use some clarification,” you breathlessly chuckled before his lips met yours again, obliging to give you all the clarification you needed. 

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @inlovewithsylus

[vrystalius]

I've been wanting to send in this ask from quite a while , could i please request reader x kyojuro where they were talking about his late mother and the reader holds him the same way his mother did when he was younger unknowingly to comfort him , thank you for reading ! take care <3

Kyojuro being held.

Hugging and offering your comfort to Kyojuro after finding him in front of Ruka’s shine.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Kyojuro makes sure to pray for his mother before heading out on missions. Senjuro makes sure to keep the shrine clean and tidy when his older brother is away, dusting off every surface and repositioning the portraits of Ruka to face the house properly, and Kyojuro appreciates it greatly. It’s comforting to him to just kneel down onto the soft pillow in front of the carefully chiseled shrine, to light some incense and mutter quiet prayers under his breath while bowing his head. It always feels like Ruka’s watching over him and making sure he, his little brother and father are doing fine. Although his father could use a little more watching and maybe some divine scolding from his mother.

He was just about to grab his sheathed katana and prepare to head out when Kyojuro felt a warm hand touch his back and slowly wrap around his shoulders. Turning his head to check to was pulling him into their embrace was not needed, he knew it was you.

“My love, you’re here. Would you like to get to know my mother a little? I realised I barely speak of her.”

Kyojuro had a small smile on his face that had a tinge of sadness to it. You scooted a little closer, sitting right next to him as he took one of the flowers that were placed into Ruka’s favourite vase and handed it to you.

“It was her favourite flower. I remember my father bringing home a new batch everytime he returned from a mission. Senjuro liked knocking the vases over, so father always made sure to put them out of his reach. They always died so quickly ever since mother got sick, father forgot to change the waters every time.”

His smile brightened slightly while watching you twirl and inspect the flower in your hand. Kyojuro’s gaze lifted and he looked at your face as a whole, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones and cheeks.

“My mother would’ve loved you. You’re so sweet and kind to me, always waiting up on me into the middle of the night to greet me, and you always spoil me with your cuddles and cooking. You’re almost heavenly sent!”

Realising what he said, his smile softened again. Kyojuro scooted closer to you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Perhaps my mother sent you.”

He mumbled into your shoulder, his hold getting tighter. He shivered slightly when one of your arms gently wrapped around his shoulders, your other arm resting on his broad shoulders and running through his bright locks. Kyojuro sighed deeply and closed his eyes, melting against your touch.

Just for a split second he was back in Ruka’s arms, listening to her voice and how he should use his strength to protect others who cannot do it themselves. You two remained like this for what felt like an eternity, and he was never planning on letting go. But after opening his eyes and pulling away from your gentle hug, he was just staring into your eyes, being reminded once again why he wants to propose to you so badly.

“I didn’t think I needed that hug but I seemingly did. Thank you.”

Kyojuro sighed and stood up, brushing off some dust off his pants and offering you a hand to stand back up.

“I believe I can postpone my mission for a little longer. I’ll move during nightfall, that way we can spend more time together. Would you like to hear more about my mother? We can help my little brother prepare dinner meanwhile, I’m sure he’d like to hear about mother a little too!”

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! Hope you enjoyed it, anon! I just love writing about cuddles and holding, running fingers through hairs and just soft fluff. Maybe because I’m often tired and want to be treated like that XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[kacievvbbbb]

Okay so I’ve spent the last couple days on Twitter (@kacievvbbbb if you wanna join me 👀) just fucking yapping about my new found obsession with the idea that Mihawk not only reads but is an active and well loved contributor to the pirate smut genre all across the blues. And I just needed to bring this to tumble to get more thoughts on it.

Here are mine;

- he obviously writes under a pseudonym would be funny if it was an anagram of like Worlds Strongest Swordsman or something.

- he writes essentially y/n fanfiction but he is always the reader.

- he is heavily perfectionist about his detailing of things like bodice ripping and that has lead to many a fun night for Shanks as he discreetly tries to rest just how exactly a bodice ripping would look and feel. Or if this sex position is even plausible.

-this one was a combined effort between @Dior and myself but he writes all the lovers as much more of an active participant in sex than the pillow princess himself actually is and this is because he thinks he is putting in exactly the same amount of work into sex as Shanks is which is laughable.

-Benn features heavily in alot of these RHP smut books. Benn

-He mostly writes RHP smut but he will branch out to other pirates like Crocodile maybe Doffy 👀. This gives Shanks heart palpitations when he finds out all this smut has been written by Mihawk.

- Mihawk almost kills both himself and Shanks by drowning the first time he finds out that Shanks knows about his little hobby.

- Shanks regularly requests they try something from the book and Mihawk has to stomp down the urge to throttle him. But again Mihawk’s reader is a much active participant in sex than he is and he is not a fan of all this work he has to put in even though he enjoys the results. Shanks is highly amused.

- Shanks for the first time in his life becaomes an avid reader with a habit and this confuses everyone that doesn’t know what he is reading and suffers Benn greatly who does.

- Shanks is lowkey very into the stories where the “reader” has sex with other men. He starts setting plans in motion.

- Mihawk also collects a lot of pirate smut a lot of it is about himself as well and this is his equivalent to jerking off. His next favorite people to read about are of course Shanks, Cricodile he is ashamed of just how much Doflamingo smut he owns. Lowkey maybe some King smut too.

- a contribution from someone on Twitter tha I live is that he also grades said smut about himslef and then sends the notes to the authors.

- he pseudonym is well known and well lived in the community.

-this is infact where more than half of his riches comes from.

- yes he also does read marine porn. He steers clear of anything that even remotely mentions garp tho. His favorite marine to red about is Sengoku I don’t fucking know 😭. I can just imagine him seating in warlord meetings shipping Sengoku with random fucking marines and pirates as he is trying to talk about very serious business

- he sure write the well known and well loved “the red haired emperor & me” series which is published in Morgan’s magazine or whatever and Shanks always seeks him out no matter where he is and fucks him good and hard everytime a new chapter goes out.

- he continues to do this while at Cross Guild Buggy and Crocodile are non the wiser. His crocodile descriptions start to get more detailed a clown pops up every now and again in his writing Shanks might be on the verge of a heart attack.

- shanks is a little too invested in the situation some (Benn) would say.

[katareyoudrilling]

Audience of One (Dave York one-shot)

Pairing: Bodyguard Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: When online comments threaten your safety, you reluctantly agree to hire a bodyguard

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: a bit of danger, masturbation, unprotected PIV (please use protection IRL), a hickey (sort of)

A/N: This is my entry for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope challenge! I got famous person AU and twisted it to fit my very niche tastes lol.  It has been quite a while since I posted something, thanks for hanging in there with me.  I really hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta 😘

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or let me know!

“I really think you’re overreacting.”  You finish cleaning off your instrument and securing it in your case.

“I’m not and it’s not open to discussion.” 

You sigh.  “I’m a concert violinist, not a movie star.  No one is out to ‘get me’ or whatever.  This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” your manager forces you to meet her gaze.  “There have been emails, social media posts… I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are creeps out there focused on you.  I need you to be safe.”

She’s looking at you with so much care and concern that the fight leaves your body.  “Fine.  Send him in.”

“Thank you.”  She turns to open the door to the dressing room and gestures to someone in the hallway.  You gather the rest of your things into your bag and prepare to head to your hotel.

Your manager steps back into the room trailed by a tall, broad, dark-haired, incredibly attractive man in an overcoat.

“Meet Dave York, your bodyguard.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“I’m really sorry about this,” you apologize for the tenth time since getting into the back of the town car with your new bodyguard in tow. “All this fuss is unnecessary.”

Dave regards you across the darkened backseat.  “Your manager doesn’t think so and neither do I.  The sooner you accept my help, the better this will go.”

You lose your train of thought as the streetlights sweep across his gorgeous features.  His pouty lips… his aquiline nose… his strong jaw… his dark eyes… each feature takes its turn in the lamplight.  It’s probably for the best, taking him in all at once might actually kill you.  No one has the right to be this handsome.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and find Dave watching you closely.  You look away quickly, shifting your focus out your window.  You cross your legs, and the slit of your dress opens, revealing your legs up to mid-thigh.  You quickly adjust the skirt to cover yourself and tell yourself that you’re imagining Dave’s eyes flickering away.

You clear your throat, “Right, umm… how is this going to go, exactly?”

“I’ll be with you during the day.  When you return to your hotel room at night, I’ll hand off responsibility to my security team.  There will be extra security at your concerts and events as well.”

“That doesn’t sound too intrusive.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I hope you like classical music.”

“We’ll find out.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

And that’s how it goes.  Dave meets you outside your door when you’re ready to leave in the morning and accompanies you on each step of your schedule.  He tags along to masterclasses, rehearsals, concerts, and your own practice sessions.  Ushering you in and out of town cars and back exits.

You share brief conversations in the car.  His dry, sarcastic wit comes out little by little as you spend time with him.  He often makes you laugh and you thrill when his pouty lips tilt at the edges into a wry smirk at something you said.

He leaves you at your hotel room door in each city at the end of the day, waiting until you close the door to call his security team.

You don’t lean against the door and wonder where he goes after he’s with you.  That would be inappropriate.

You don’t replay the events of the day, the glances, the almost touches, that assuredly exist only in your own imagination.

You don’t catalog the little things you’ve learned about him.  Single.  No kids.  Ex-military.  Coffee, black.  Unexpected crinkles around the eyes when he smiles.

You don’t seek him out in the concert halls, looking for a sign that he enjoys the music you’re making, always finding him watching you intently from backstage, still and focused.

You don’t find yourself pulling out your favorite toy to relieve some tension more and more frequently as the days spent in his company add up.

Definitely not.

. . . . . . . . . .

“You played something different tonight.” Dave’s deep voice breaks the silence of the car. 

You hum your assent, “Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy.  It’s a real crowd pleaser.”

“I didn’t know a violin could do that.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the soloist gets to show off in that one.”

“You like to show off, don’t you?”

The energy in the car shifts in an instant.  Dave’s dark eyes are even darker than usual as he regards you across the cab.  The question hangs heavy in the air.  

“You have to like to show off to do my job,” you explain a bit breathlessly.  You meet his dark gaze, and he hums in approval.  “Do you like to show off, Dave?”

He drags his thumb across his lower lip, your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“No, I don’t like to show off.  I like to watch.”

His words hit you like an electrical current, zinging across your skin, breaking you out into full body goose bumps.

You hold each other’s gaze in the dark, your breath coming in increasingly erratic pants.  He doesn’t look away.  Neither do you.

You cross your legs and allow your skirt to fall open up your legs, just like the first night you were in the car with him.  This time, the dress has an even higher slit—you save this particular gown for when you perform the Carmen, you enjoy playing into the persona.  This time, you don’t cover up.

You watch as his gaze flickers to your bare legs, exposed practically all the way to your underwear, the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his plush lips.

He drags his eyes back up to yours.  The air is thick with possibility.  A line has definitely been crossed.  Words begin to bubble up from your gut when the car pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.

The moment pops like a balloon.

Dave opens his door and swings up and out of the car.  In a haze, you open your door and step out into the night.

The next moments go by in a flash.

You hear someone shout your name, Dave yells, you’re shoved against the car, unfamiliar hands grab your shoulders and whisk you into the hotel lobby and into the elevator.  The doors close before you can understand the commotion happening outside the hotel.

You’re flanked by security guards you’ve seen around after hours.  The words “assailant” “custody” “weapon” permeate the buzzing in your brain.  Questions form and dissipate in the tangle of your thoughts before you can get them out.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you are bodily moved into your hotel room.  Before they can close the door, you finally manage to ask what’s going on only to be met with vague instructions to stay in your room and wait.

You pace the floor and look out your window, hoping for a glimpse of what might be happening on the street below, but you’re on the wrong side of the building.  It doesn’t hold any answers for you.

Your hands reach for your phone only to realize it’s still in your bag in the car, along with your instrument case.

The car.

Your mind returns to that moment right before you pulled up to the hotel.  So ripe with promise and possibility.

Then you had gotten out of the car.

Oh shit.

You got out of the car yourself.  You opened your door yourself.  You weren’t supposed to do that. Dave opens your door.  Dave ushers you out of the car.

It’s all your fault.

Just as your thoughts threaten to spiral, there’s a firm knock on your door.

“It’s me.  Everything is ok. Open the door.” You hear Dave through the door.  You rush over and check the peephole like he told you to.  At least you can say you remembered to do that.  You confirm it’s him and open the door.

“Dave, I—”

He crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with the length of his body before claiming your mouth with a rough, desperate kiss.  His hands grip your chin, your shoulders, your hip as he devours your mouth.

Your hands scrabble against his chest, finding the lapels of his coat to hang on.

Just as suddenly as you found yourself kissing Dave, you aren’t.  He pulls back abruptly leaving you cold and breathless.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t ha—”

You pull him back to you by his coat, drawing his mouth back to yours.  You lick into his mouth, moaning as he responds.

This kiss is less frantic, but still full of need.  Your tongues tangle together, tasting and testing.

Dave eventually breaks away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok, but what happened?”

“A man came running toward you, the police have him now.  I’m sure it’s the person making those creepy comments about you online.”

“I got out of the car by myself, Dave, I’m so sorry, I know I’m n—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok.”

He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your protests, until you melt into him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He drags his lips down your throat, across your collarbones and shoulders.  He licks back up the side of your neck.

You gasp as he drags his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck.

“I noticed this mark the night I first met you,” he murmurs into your skin. “I was so jealous of whoever got to do that to you.  I kept waiting to find out who it was, to see if they were worthy of marking your skin, but there has been no one and the mark has stayed.”  You sense the unasked question.

“My… it’s… a violin hickey,” you pant as he drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw. “Where my violin rubs against my neck when I play.”  He chuckles.

“Should I be jealous of your violin?”

“Probably.”

He hums against you.  “Fair enough.”

He steps back to the hotel room door and for a moment your heart drops thinking that he might be leaving, but he only opens the door to pull your bag and violin case into the room.  You hear him conversing with a guard outside before he closes the door, locking the deadbolt before turning back to you.

He shrugs off his overcoat and suit jacket.  He loosens the knot of his tie and begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves.  You watch the movement of his fingers with rapt attention.

“So, Miss Show off. Do you want to show off for me?”  His eyes flash dangerous and dark and a thrill runs up your spine.

Adrenaline tingles in your fingertips as you find the zipper of your dress and pull it down your side.

You lock eyes with Dave as you let your gown fall to the floor, a puddle at your feet.  You are left standing in only your panties and high heels.

Dave drinks you in, caressing your curves with his warm gaze.  Your nipples harden under his perusal and wetness pools between your legs.  It’s all you can do to not rub your thighs together.

“Get on the bed.” He commands, his voice deep and rasping with need.  His shirtsleeves are rolled up now, exposing the tendons and veins in his forearms.  His hands fist at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to touch you.  But you’ve learned this about Dave, he is always in control of himself.

You walk over to the bed, turning your back to him and adding an extra sway to your hips.  You catch his strangled moan at the sight of your round ass framed by the string of your thong.  You turn to sit at the end of the bed with a satisfied smirk.  Dave stands at arm’s length from you, pinning you with his dark eyes.

“Show me.  Let me see if those fingers can play your pussy as well as they play your violin.”

You gasp at his filthy words and your center clenches with need.  Keeping your eyes on him once again, you drag your panties down your legs and off, kicking off your shoes as you do, and scoot a bit farther onto the bed.

You lean back into the plush bedding, resting on one elbow, knees bent, and spread your legs for Dave.

He drinks you in hungrily as you part yourself for him, dipping your fingers into your wetness.

Your mouth falls open as you circle your clit, a moan escaping your chest.  You fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Dave watch you.  You really do like to show off and he is an eager audience.

You quicken your pace, hitting the rhythm you like best, and find yourself careening towards your peak.  Your hips buck on the bed, and you whine that you’re close.

“Show me,” Dave commands one last time before you fall over the edge, pulsing and shivering through your release.

 “Do I get a standing ovation?” you ask, breathless, once you’ve come back to yourself. 

“You tell me.”

You crack one eye open and find that he’s standing at the end of the bed naked.  His cock juts proudly away from his hips at full attention.

“My favorite kind.” You lick your lips as you sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed.  You look up at him as you take the tip of his cock between your lips, sliding down the hard length of him.  You watch his stomach flex with effort as he resists fucking into your mouth.

It makes you want to make him lose control.  He’s always alert and watching.  Even in the car on the way to the hotel tonight, he kept his cool as you tempted him.  Bursting into your room to kiss you is the only time you’ve seen him not in complete control of himself.

You tongue and suck and moan around him, losing yourself in the rhythm.  Dave drags his fingers down your cheek and throat.  

“Look at you, fuck.” He cups your breasts, swaying heavily between your arms, and pinches your nipples.  “I want to watch these tits bounce while I fuck you.”

You whimper around his length, arousal practically dripping down your legs.  He pulls out of your mouth, diving down to kiss you deeply and press you backwards onto the bed.

He arranges himself against the headboard and drags you on top of him.  “Ride me, baby,” he commands.  You eagerly comply, lining his weeping cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you sink down onto him, the stretch is so delicious with every inch you take.  When you bottom out, you open your eyes to find Dave breathing hard, the tendons of his neck taut with effort.

You rise and sink back down slowly, angling yourself backwards so he can see his cock disappear into your wet heat.  He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you, giving you friction that makes you shudder with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, eyes locked on your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole.  You feel yourself start to flutter around him, the intensity of his eyes on you drives your arousal higher and higher.  Being watched with so much desire gives you such a thrill that your orgasm threatens to take you far too soon.

You slow and lean forward, placing a hand on the headboard over Dave’s head.  Your breasts wobble in front of his face and he quickly takes one nipple into his mouth.  You arch your back into him as he sucks and tugs, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

He holds your hips still with one hand as he feasts on you, bringing his other to cup and pinch your tender flesh.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry as the pressure builds in your core.  Your hips grind into him, seeking relief as he relentlessly toys with you.

He allows you to move, to chase your high, riding his cock with abandon as he looks up at you with lust blown eyes.  You tilt your hips, and he finds your clit once again.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises you as you near your peak.  “Come on my cock, baby.  I want to feel you.”

You come with a gasp, rising up on your knees as your pussy clenches then collapsing back down with shuddering pulses.  Dave caresses your back before rolling you over and gently pulling out.  He kneels between your legs, stroking his length, as you lie boneless and hazy.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.” His jaw clenches as he strokes himself faster and faster.  “I fucking love to watch you.  Watch you play your violin… watch you touch yourself… watch you fuck…”

“It’s my turn, Dave,” you interrupt.  “I want to watch you come.  Come all over me.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk at the way a shudder moves through his body.  He lets go with a groan, ropes of cum painting your tummy and chest.

You both collapse, satisfied.  Dave cleans you up, taking extra care with your breasts.  You smirk as he chases the warm cloth with his even warmer mouth.

“What happens now?” you ask later, when you’re twined together on the bed. “If that was the guy…”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me and even after you don’t,” Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head.  You snuggle into his side, relaxing in the knowledge that you are safe and thrilled with the prospect of showing off again for your audience of one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I don't have, and never have had, a violin hickey. I probably don't practice enough lol. But they are often seen as a point of pride among violinists.

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

[kit-williams]

A Drabble

tw: oral; idiots in love;

-Timeline: Before the story proper-

Perturabo was use to Penelope being excitable... she was in her early twenties after all verses him being well over a hundred years old by the time they married. It amused him greatly how differently she acted in the public eye verses with him privately. It made him feel like he had something all his own and it was the truest version of his wife. But he watched her slide into the room looking at him bewildered, "Why didn't you tell me you were hot?!" She says in that whining tone of hers.

Perturabo gives Penelope a deep frown counting slowly in his head. She has a habit of saying stupid things not realizing at first what she says. With her also being from the mountains she sometimes messes up the phrasing... that and her being a commoner once she tends to speak far more casually with him in private... and well of course he loves her. Love was something Pertruabo did not give out his love easily as Calliphone was the only other person he would have said that he loved before he realized he loved Penelope in a different way.

"Let me rephrase!" Her eyes sparkle realizing her slip up, "Why am I only now finding out you had a beard!" She whines softly.

"I see you visited Calliphone." Pertruabo points out knowing full well that the only paintings of him left of his time before meeting Father were with his sister.

"Of course I did. And I only now just saw how amazing you look with a beard! I feel robbed!" Penelope says with her dramatics as he could hear her bare feet upon the stone as she walked over to his desk.

"Unlike Russ I did not enjoy the feeling of my hair getting tangled and knotted. So I shaved my whole body." Perturabo says returning focus to a building design.

"Do you think you'll ever grow it out again?" He feels her cheek against his arm.

"Why?"

"It looked good on you."

"Do I not look good now?" He looked over at her with a blank look on his face. He wasn't afraid of what she would say...

"I fell in love with you now. Clean shaven, tubes, and all. I mean I doubt I looked good when you first met me."

"You looked good."

"Bo I had three teeth missing, crooked toes from them being broken and not healing right, awful hair, and a myriad of other things that would leave many poets desiring something."

That got Perturabo to frown, "That doesn't matter." He bristles not liking how she talks about herself sometimes. He chose her so why does-

"Exactly dear." Penelope says softly with that pleasing smile of hers that causes her eyes to close slightly, "You loved me at my worst looking. No I'm not saying you have bad taste in women I'm saying that if looks were something you were really picky on then I wouldn't have a chance."

"They never complemented my work earnestly." Perturabo says softly.

"Their loss." She says before climbing up to sit on his thigh wrapping her arms around his neck and presses her cheek to his as she smiles just showering him in affection.

He doesn't like showing affection in public a weakness that could be exploited... but she's a mortal and needs it... and he wont repeat nearly letting her walk away from his life by withholding it from her. He sighs softly pulling her into a hug enjoying the comfortable silence before speaking up, "After the Crusade." She looks at him before he continues, "I'll regrow my beard after the Crusade. My head hair..." He feels a modicum of self consciousness at the thought.

"I can live with just a beard... and maybe some chest hair too?"

"You're insatiable." He kisses her cheek seeing the gears in her mind thinking, "You're thinking of something."

"Beard Burn." Penelope says with a sigh.

"You really are insatiable." He laughs softly to which she scoffs.

"Would you rather I be like Lady Dorn? Mindful and demur and stone faced too? Or perhaps I shall have a frown upon my face as well." She says before she pouts dramatically at him.

"You're pouting."

"Well I'm not very good at frowning I suppose." Penelope says before kissing him.

--------------

She doesn't know how this man got into her room... and why he was naked. But she had to admit he was insane enough to try and seduce her though he looked... familiar?

"Speechless?" That familiar voice rumbles out.

Her eyes widen, "Bo?"

"In the flesh," He lies as what this puppet really was is metal, "You really do not like it when I'm closer to your height."

She sighs putting a hand to her cheek, "Like I've said... a decade of being use to you towering over me does not go away just like that. But... I suppose... it's been awhile for you."

"Partially I do not trust myself to not hurt you," He partially lies to his beloved spouse looking away not wanting to think too hard about everything as he came here for a mental reprieve... not to be eaten by guilt...

He looks at her feeling her weight on the bed as she gives him a kiss for his troubles before pulling away and looking over him, "By the Ancients Perturabo you're so hairy!" She says before putting her face into his chest and making a pleased noise.

"Oh yes probably not as hairy as some of my sons from the mountains are," He says with his eyes closed as he can't help but preen under her pleased gaze, "But I hope its enoUGH!" He nearly jumps as he feels her mouth around him as he looks to her sparkling eyes as she grins with her mouth full giving a giggle. He swallows and burns the sight into his very essence, "Well you look quite pleased."

"Oh yesh bery peeesed," Penelope says with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full Nelly." Perturabo says causing her to laugh and she lets him slip free from her mouth. As she crawls up to meet him in an embrace and to enjoy the night.

-Timeline: Perturabo got to Penelope first-

Guilliman didn't know what was spurring his traitorous brother on. Perturabo was moving aggressively carving out a large territory for himself. The spies that were able to give any information was sparse and usually wildly outdated by the time it reached him but something was spurring him on. The radical inquisitor was able to get a recording... "Apparently the rapid border expansion of the Iron lord's territory is because of something he acquired. We're uncertain if it's from his recent fights with the other traitor primarchs but the Iron Warriors have been consolidating and changing their focus."

Guilliman was very familiar with how Perturabo was moving... it was his methodical expansion from the Great Crusade... he was bringing planets into compliance. And given the numbers the Inquisiton estimate... Perturabo was a threat. His mind thinks back for a moment... perhaps the thing that changed was Penelope? But that was well over fifty years now when he first got that distress call from the Iron Amarantos and he assumes that the perils on that half of the Cixitrix Maledictum got to her before she could get to one of the crossing points.

"We don't have any information on this sudden Demogauge. All we know is that she just appeared around the same time of the expansion. The Iron Lady as she's been called." Guilliman refrains from rolling his eyes... of course just like Ferrus, Perturabo was associated with Iron.

The pict capture plays as the agents get into their positions. "This one is also important... but its clearly a young Astartes." The Inquisitor says as notes pop up as the image of a... familiar man walks on screen. He looked so much like Perturabo... then again what one of his sons didn't but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this wasn't a normal son of Perturabo.

"And here comes the Iron Lady." The Inquisitor says but the Astartes uses a different title.

"Play it back now." Guilliman orders as he listens to the title again... "That's not Iron Lady..." He has a sinking feeling he knows who is about to walk on screen.

"What does it translate to then my Lord?"

"Iron Mother."

And upon the screen with a newfound grace she glided into view draped in the colors of the fourth legion straight from the days of the great crusade was Penelope. Though Roboute wonders if it really is her give how she was closer to the size of Alpharius or a Primaris marine and Roboute watched her sweet talk a planet into compliance... because she was the gentle hand to the Iron Lord... she was the gentle hearth where Perturabo was a roaring forge... Roboute didn't have many chances to meet his brother's wife. But he remembers one of the few times she was around and Perturabo was bristling. Perhaps it is the hindsight now to realize that her death is what damned the fourth legion... but he remembers the way they simply looked at each other. Something Roboute was jealous of, at the time, with how tenderly she held his face... how lovingly she looked into his eyes...

"It can't be her..." He whispers... this must have been some poor mortal or some abomination Perturabo had made to replace his wife... if he never got over her.

"Who is she..." An Inquisitor asks.

"Back in the Great Crusade era... before the Heresy... Perturabo had a wife," His eyes focus on one of the Astartes standing next to her before pointing, "and a son."

The Ram, the bulwark of Ossento system, Warsmith of the 101st Grand Company... and more titles but Guilliman couldn't help but see how much he looked like his father... the way he seemed to look into the camera and just smile.

The alarms blare as the sigil of the Iron Warriors appears on the screen. A virus the tech adepts and priests scream as a video forces itself to play.

"Hello Guilliman." Penelope says, "You probably have a dozen questions seeing me again... and like this." She says softly, "I would love to answer them but straying too far from your brother would... well he wouldn't like that but I'm willing to meet you still perhaps not at Macragge but I think you will be please with what I have to say. Take care Lord of Macragge." And with the video ends the virus dies

[sheenashifts1217]

Pick A Pile #3

9/19/24

Message From Your DR Self

Take a breath and pick the image you’re drawn to first. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. This is a collective reading so some may resonate with this more than others. For a personal reading, check my pined post <3

Pile 1: Beach heart, Pile 2: Lightning Heart, Pile 3: Cloud Heart

Pile 1

Lyrics standing out:

“They say that we’re no good together and it’s never gonna work out

Everything you do is magic

Let em take pictures

Spread it all across the world now

I don’t know what to believe

Everything you do is magic”

Hi beautiful angels of Pile 1. Your DR self wants you to trust yourself more. You are your DR self. Your DR self is your CR self. Are you stressed about shifting? Don’t be because you’ve already shifted. Your DR self is telling you to take shifting and your DR off of such a high pedestal. There is nothing holding you back from your desires except for yourself. Get out of your own way. This I your sign to embrace all that you are and to on your power. You don’t need some outside cosmic force to make you shift. YOU ARE A COSMIC FORCE. Allow your reality to flow, it doesn’t have to be follow any rules. Magic is normal, normalize it to yourself because “everything you do is magic”. Every choice you make is shifting your reality, it’s that simple.

Your DR may include a lot of magic ad your DR self wants you to know that your s/o loves you like breathing.

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: 444, blue bird, green leaf, dew drop, glass of water, blue, Billie Eillish, older women, dance

Pile 2

Lyrics standing out:

“Haven’t seen my mother in a long, long time

Do you really think I give a damn

I say I live in Rosemead, really, I’m at the Ramada

So many other things you can’t believe

Puts the shower on while he calls me

Your mom called, I told her you’re fucking up big time”

Hi beauties, Pile 2! Your DR self is telling you that you are having the time of your life. You may be a person who shifts pretty frequently, but to different DRs, or you may have a lot of DRs, but struggle to focus on one. Your ability to go with the flow is rewarding you greatly. If you’re shifting for an s/o, your relationship couldn’t be better. Marriage is in the near future for a few of you. Basically, your DR self is saying to sit back and enjoy the ride. Everything is going your way because you’re allowing it. Keep doing whatever you’re doing because it’s working. You’re on a path of healing and your inner child is shining. You are finally learning to give up on the thought of needing external validation and people pleasing. Keep it up because your hard work is paying off!

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: “J”, red, crayon, curve, back road, country, serve, slay, boots, 24, 2, Taylor Swift, Willow, 90’s

Pile 3

Lyrics standing out:

“Now he’s just a shadow

My boy loves his friends like I love my split ends

My boy don’t love me like he promised

He ain’t a man, he sure as hell ain’t honest

Who are you?

He said he’d change

You want me to be yours, then you’ve got to be mine”

Hello lovely Pile 3! Why are you still doing things and allowing things in your life that don’t serve you? I know that was harsh right off the bat, but seriously, why? You know what you need and you know what hurts you. You’ve become comfortable in your cycle instead of actually speaking growth. Your DR self is telling you to stand the fuck up because you could be doing literally anything else, yet you’re self destructing. A lot of you began shifting to heal your inner child, but you began to use it to sulk and self destruct. Your DR self is you RN. You are in your CR because it is where you are desiring to be. Change your mindset to be in your “DR”, because right now, you’re making your CR be you DR by choosing to remain in the loop and keeping the same mentality. You always say you’re gonna change but don’t follow through. Actually do it, you won’t regret it. Your DR self says that things are great in your DR right now and they’re tired of you complaining about not being there when you’re not even actually intending to be there. A lot of things will lighten up once you face your shadow self and actually take that leap of faith.

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: purple, cream, sparkles, glitter, candy, green, jeans, eagles, pen, fun, 888, 9, 23, trees, flowers

[captain-astors]

Kaneki 24 26 30, Hide 16 20 & Rio 15 and 18 for the ask game :DD (I am full of questions)

I have decided I like this ask game a lot, less time but I have to think about it a bit more deeply. Also I love these choices thank you so much these creatures are my DEARS.

KANEKI: 

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

This man tells absolutely no one anything ever and it causes A LOT OF PROBLEMS. But if we’re talking just harmless things he’s embarrassed about, Haise had an entire theory about where he came from and who he was, including things like who he could possibly be related to (read: imagining a healthy, loving family for himself that was just ambiguously out there.) In hindsight he thinks that was way too optimistic and probably just manifestations of memories of his friends. Also he broke a coffee pot once early on in Anteiku and refused to admit it out of fear, because Touka looked like she was going to actually murder the culprit.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most? Difficult to answer as I'm not sure who "Kaneki" is supposed to be. When he didn't have to worry about any of this ghoul stuff? He said himself he was lonely and shelled in. Post Jason? Probably not. Haise? Technically not “him”. He’s pretty much a completely different character by the end of :re so that’s difficult to judge. I suppose… any time he’s just rambling about his favorite books with no regard for how passionate he sounds, to Rize, to Tsukiyama, to Hinami, and any other instance. It just seems very sweet and genuine.

30. The funniest scene they had? Also tricky because if I was laughing it was typically at how miserable he was (sorry) I guess the scene when Kaneki, constantly searching for "truths," straight up tells the guy offering to elaborate on it all "No thanks I'm just going to beat you up." Also the hug scenes with Akira are all near and dear to my heart but the first one was hysterical.

HIDE: 

16. A childhood headcanon.

The kind of kid to wear dinosaur/superhero hoodies every single day. His dads were completely fine with this because he looked adorable.

20. A weird headcanon.

He definitely wears those grippy socks. Just around the house. Not for any particular reason he just got them at a trampoline park or something and doesn’t want to slip on the kitchen floor. Also he can, has, and possibly will again lick someone’s salt lamp at a sleepover.

SHIKORAE/RIO: I’m answering this for pre and post Cochlea when I can because this is a chance I may only get once.

15. Worst storyline they had.

For Shikorae! Post-dragon Kakuja. The extremely traumatized and unwell ghoul who is perhaps one of the most harmed by their old society CONTINUES to be scorned by the new one, but it’s okay because he’s too unwell to be instantly adjusted into society! He’s basically an animal right?

Rio! The Touka crush, it really felt like pandering to the audience. Your main character doesn't have to be Kaneki the Sequel guys, I suppose it could be argued he was so undersocialized that he just was immediately infatuated with the first pretty girl he met but leaving the closest thing you have to a home as a result of the rejection of that feels... odd. Probably the intense attachment issues at work. It makes sense to some extent I just think there were better ways to justify his departure. It is funny to me that Touka had a crush on him too allegedly , so she definitely has a type.

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

Well, we kind of know given that he is a kid in Jail, but if we’re talking before that as well, like 6-10 years old,

SO shy and surprisingly weak for a ghoul kid. To put it simply, his brother wouldn’t bring him on hunts, and at that would hardly bring him outside out of fear, so he wasn’t getting nearly enough vitamin D or exercise. It didn’t help that due to his mutation, his RC pathways have always prioritized “must make more kagune” over maintaining the state of his body, because it basically works by treating his current Kagunes as if they weren’t there, and therefore his body thinks he is unarmed at all times, and by extent it thinks he needs to create a new one constantly.

His brother did his best to feed him enough to maintain both functions, but whereas most ghoul kids are durable enough to at least make a break for it before even adult ghouls can go for the kill, Rio probably could’ve been taken out with a quinque steel knife if the wielder managed to get past the swirling mess of Kagune.

He did crave companionship though, and when his brother trusted another ghoul enough to introduce them to him he was generally considered to be very sweet, if timid.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

a couple scribbles i cleaned up. also i think i like drawing him in varying states of distress

[mel-loly]

I liked this flower..   It shines so much...

I wish my life could shine like that   from time to time...

Staying in this dark is so sad..   Will I ever be able to know happiness...?

Will I ever be able to see the light...?   Or will someone bring me this light...?

Well.. I don't know...   But if I were to make a wish..

I would ask for someone who could show me the way to the..

Light

[unexpectedbrickattack]

panel from a comic i am NOT going to finish u.u

Bonus close up of Peppino (bc i love how he came out heehee) and a face from another scrapped panel ^^

[frogaroundandfindout]

Roy Harper makes a tiktok to everywhere I go but on “my dick does all my thinking” he moves the camera down to a blissed out dick grayson with his face pressed against Roy’s stomach

[kidatanaka]

tanaka & friends

[helaenalyst]

how are people saying rhaesaria had no setup... did they close their eyes every time mysaria was onscreen? their shared bond over having been hurt by daemon, the way rhaenyra spared mysaria and let her go, the way mysaria came back to save her life, the way mysaria chose to stay because she personally admires and respects rhaenyra, the way mysaria has been rhaenyra's only ally and support while everyone around her questions her, the small moments of flirting... it is such a nice little love story, i know it probably won't last but come on

[dovescheck]

happy last day of pride time to post my most complicated pairing

[generic-sonic-fan]

In case it wasn't apparent from my recent fic, I believe that a crucial element to writing Metal Sonic's obsession with Sonic is not hatred, but paranoia.

Sonic is capable of arriving at any point on the planet within a matter of hours, if not minutes. The only places of relative safety are Robotnik's bases, but even this is not guaranteed. Sonic can speed through conventional defenses, tear through walls, achieve verticality and attack from every angle, at any time.

And every time Sonic arrives, he attacks with every intent to completely destroy Metal Sonic.

. . . at least, according to the programming Eggman shoved into its head. Everything in Metal Sonic's processor, every scrap of personhood or sentience it clings to, is based on code written with a single purpose. The only way that Metal views the world is through the lens of this purpose. It analyzes locations based on defensive angles or potential resources during a combat situation. It sorts any person it meets into one of three categories: An Ally (aligned with Dr. Robotnik), A Civilian (irrelevant), or A Threat (aligned with Sonic). Its knowledge of objects is a complete toss-up depending on what info's been useful in the past to fighting Sonic- Metal only knows what a grocery store is because he punched Sonic through one once.

And Metal is always scanning, scanning, scanning the environment around it for any sign that Sonic might arrive. When your opponent is faster than the speed of sound, a half-second warning can mean the difference between continued operation or utter destruction.

[thatcritterthatskitter]