#Performance Blue seat belts

[akulride]

SEOUL, Nov. 16, 2024 - Hyundai Motor Company has officially unveiled the ELANTRA N TCR Edition, a high-performance sedan designed to bring the thrill of motorsports to everyday driving. Inspired

[hrrtshape]

FAME DR —  scandals !

⋆  caught sneaking out of the ritz carlton at 4 a.m – nobody knows who with, but the paparazzi sure caught that smudged lipstick and tousled hair.  

⋆  accused of lip-syncing during a live performance – the audacity, when it was clearly a technical glitch !!!!!!!  twitter fans are fighting for their lives in the comments. 

⋆  secret affair with a director on your latest project – everyone swears the chemistry was more than just “method acting.” who knows. . . . . . .  . .

⋆  caught vaping in a luxury boutique – iconic or embarrassing ? the footage is grainy but very much, uh, on brand.

⋆  skipping a major award show for a last-minute ibiza trip – the scandal isn’t missing the show, it’s the very visible hickey i come back with. meditation trip or possible bacchanalia ? with ibiza you never know. 

⋆  breaking up a high-profile celebrity couple – But how was i supposed to know they were “on a break” ?

⋆  walking out of a live interview mid-question – that silence screamed volumes !!!, and now everyone’s guessing what they asked. and yes, it was at ellen’s. 

⋆  hooking up with TWO a-list celebrities at coachella – reps deny it, but those blurry tent photos don’t lie. anyway…i don’t kiss and tell. 

⋆  storming out of a fashion show after they seat second row – because who in their right mind thought that was okay? but, like, genuinely. (insert blue emoji guy with raised eyebrow) 

⋆  getting kicked out of a vegas casino for ‘causing a scene’ – it wasn’t my fault the dealer was shady, and i definitely didn’t toss chips into his face (allegedly). allegedly. 

⋆  recklessly driving a golf cart at a private resort – the poor palm tree never stood a chance, but at least i walked away laughing ?

⋆  leaking dms from a famous ex – petty? maybe. satisfying? hell YEA. feminism

⋆  being too tipsy on a live talk show – that margarita wasn’t supposed to hit like that, and now the clip is meme material. and at least i looked hot?? meanwhile doing it?? 

⋆  fighting with airport security over carry-on – the footage shows me slamming my birkin on the conveyor belt and storming off barefoot. once again, allegedly.

⋆  disinvited from the met gala – anna wintour herself (allegedly) bans me for a cheeky remark about her hair. that IG story? “girl dinner > gala dinner.” they were begging for my return by 2024, though, trust. 

⋆  caught yelling at paparazzi – but i wasn’t yelling, tho… i was singing. OK, it’s giving britney ’07 for some, but my fans are out here screaming “ART.”  take it or leave it . 

⋆  feuding" with an iconic diva – a messy exchange with madonna (hypothetical queen) where i….maybe… claimed she “isn’t the queen anymore.” the interview spins my comment out of control, and fans are at war.  real ones know we #cockedout 

⋆  tweeting that melania pegs trump back in 2017 — ok…guys…i was 19. basically a baby. besides, she told me. she didn’t, but the voices did. 

⋆  “fake" activism accusations – a photo resurfaces of me wearing leather boots at a vegan protest. laugh it off with ���they’re vintage!” but the vegans are not amused.  

⋆  over-the-top rider demands – allegedly (once again) asking for 500 freshly-cut peonies in my dressing room. stans call me iconic; everyone else calls me “insufferable” (pussies).  what y’all want me to do?? i have 4 oscars !! or is it five? i forgor. 

⋆  telling a journalist to “shut up” mid-interview – the question was offensive to my peace, but somehow i’m the villain? whatever. whatever. whatever ! i stand by it.  

⋆  skipping a charity gala to go on a yacht – yes, the photos are incriminating. no, i don’t regret it

⋆  skipping rehab to headline coachella – rumours fly that i had “issues,” (pfftt) but I show up looking radiant in glitter eyeliner anyways !

⋆  late to my own movie premiere – because i “got lost” wandering Paris with a random stranger i met in a café. they were playing edith piaf on the accordion, and i HAD to vibe, OK?

⋆  rumoured love triangle – yours truly and her ex AND their new partner are photographed at the same soho house event. ‘body language’ experts on tiktok are having a FIELD DAY over that “smirk.”

⋆  crying in the louvre – captured having a total meltdown in front of the mona lisa (because she just like me fr). the discourse ranges from “a raw artistic moment” to “get her a matcha latte.” discourse… 

⋆  THAT one paparazzi photo – where i’m smoking (uh oh) in a dior gown while barefoot in the château marmont parking lot. the aesthetic is undeniable. discourse once again has the “is she genuinely okay?” player and the “CUUUUNTY YEEEEEEES.” 

⋆  be that girl who goes on a whirlwind 48-hour ibiza trip, parties with billionaires, then comes back to NYC looking so radiant people whip out the “illuminati” accusations. 

[unreliablesnake]

Withdrawal (Dominique Luca x reader)

Summary: Weeks without sex make you grumpy and needy.

Note: Don't look at me, I was bored at work.

Warnings: MDNI. Mentions of fingering and pregnancy.

You were alone in the locker room at the end of your shift when Luca walked in. He flashed a smile at you before opening his locker and changing his shirt, a series of actions that was perfectly normal in this room. He took off the old one, then spent a good minute or two looking for a fresh one that was obviously right in front of him.

“I hate you,” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear you.

With a laugh, he walked over to where you were sitting, standing in front of you with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Just two colleagues talking, nothing unusual. “What have I done?” he asked innocently, his blue eyes fixed on you with that mischievous glint.

“Three weeks, Dom. Three.”

“You can’t be that desperate.” When you hooked your finger under his belt to pull him closer, your free hand pushing up his shirt so you could place soft kisses across his skin, he let out a laugh then gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “You know the rule.”

“Come over tonight. Don’t make me beg,” you added with a small smile.

Luca crouched down in front of you and steadied himself by putting his hands on your knees. “I love it when you beg for something,” he pointed out, but when he saw the angry look you shot his way, he let out a sigh. “I’ll be there. Happy?”

And so in the evening you were wearing a set of lacy lingerie you had picked just for him, completed with the black dress he loved so much. If he still wanted to play his stupid game with you after seeing you in these, you would sure as hell break up with him, no matter how much you loved him. According to him, refusing to have sex with you for weeks was his way of teaching you patience, but if anything, it made you extremely frustrated, which happened to affect your work performance too.

Every time you snapped at someone from the team, Street made a joke about how you needed to get laid. And every time he said that, you wished you could have just strangled him on the spot. That goddamn handsome smile of Luca’s was only fuel to the fire too, and you wanted to yell at him right in front of everyone, telling him it was his fault you were so grumpy.

You didn’t know what took him so long, but despite the promise to be there by six, he was nowhere to be found around eight. You were planning to change into something more comfortable when you heard the key turn in the front door, which soon revealed your boyfriend whose face lit up at the sight of you. Without hesitation you rushed over to him, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck as you pulled his face down for a kiss.

“I love you too, baby, but we need to talk,” he said as he let you go and took a step back.

We need to talk. You never liked that sentence. Hell, nobody liked that sentence. Your smile disappeared without a trace before you bit on your lower lip and nodded, urging him to go on. Luca took your hand and led you to the couch, making you sit down in the middle before he sat on the coffee table in front of you. For a while he didn’t say a word, only toyed with the remote that he picked up after taking a seat.

But then he let out a sigh and reached into his pocket to pull out a small box of chewing gums. “This thing between us,” he began slowly with his eyes fixed on the plastic box, “it works, right? It’s not just me thinking we’re good together.”

A frown formed on your face upon his words for a moment. “Good is an understatement,” you offered with a smile as you reached out to envelope his calloused hand with your delicate fingers.

He let out a quiet chuckle before his gaze slowly turned to you. You tilted your head to the side as you studied his expression, having a hard time figuring out what this conversation was about. Was he about to break up with you? It didn't make sense, although the lack of sex in your relationship could point in that direction. Did he not love you anymore?

Before you could get lost in your spiraling thoughts, he squeezed your hand to get your attention, then handed you the plastic box he was holding. “Thanks, but I'm good,” you told him softly, but he shook his head and moved his hand a little to make you take it.

You took the box and opened the lid to get a chewing gum out of it. A part of you hoped this would finally make him talk, but you weren't ready to see what was inside. Because there was no chewing gum, there was only a ring in there. Your eyes widened as you looked over at him, and when he nodded with a smile, you took out the piece of jewelry.

“That's why I was late. I wasn't sure if I should ask you, if our relationship was at this stage already, but when I drove past this jewelry store, I felt the need to stop and take a look at the rings,” he explained.

There was a wide smile on his face that reached his eyes, showing how happy he was at this moment. You couldn't hide your own smile either, so while he struggled to finally pop the question, you looked down at the ring in your hand. It was white gold with a small stone in it; the perfect choice for you. Luca wasn't the type who would try to buy your love with expensive things, which was one of the things you loved about him.

“What do you say?” he asked you hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked him in the eye. “You didn't ask me anything.”

He took the hint and within a second he was kneeling in front of you, nesting himself between your legs while he wrapped his fingers around your hand. “Will you marry me?” You nodded without thinking, and soon your head was pulled into a passionate kiss while his other hand moved up your thigh. “I’m lucky to have you,” he whispered against your lips.

When his finger pulled your panties aside, your breath caught in your throat, but when he pushed his finger between your folds, you couldn't bite back a loud moan and a string of sentences as you begged for more. He let out a quiet chuckle while he pushed you back on the couch and dived between your legs to place soft kisses along your inner thigh.

After weeks of withdrawal, it was so damn nice to have him touch you again, to feel his lips trailing across your skin. You were on cloud nine and you didn't even want to return to reality just yet. But the universe had other plans, because the alarm on your phones went off just when you got close to your climax.

“We gotta go,” Luca noted once he read the message.

Nodding, you straightened up on the couch. “You go ahead, I'll change into something more comfortable.”

But he only shook his head before he stood up and extended his hand to help you up. “I'll wait,” he said.

“They'll be suspicious if we arrive at the same time.”

“We just got engaged. They would find out sooner or later anyway.”

He was right. This wasn't how you wanted them to find out, but maybe not making a big deal out of it was the way to go. So you gave him a quick kiss then headed to the bedroom to find something casual to wear. You knew you were both in a hurry, but you couldn't stop yourself from staring at the ring with a wide grin on your face.

This man was the love of your life and there was nothing he could have done to get rid of you now. You were forever connected whether or not he wanted it. The question is, who's gonna be more surprised in the end. You after he proposed, or him when you finally told him you were pregnant.

[sissylittlefeather]

We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 03

summary: you're now officially part of the theater club's latest production! just one small problem... wc: 1282 a/n: Can't believe I was able to type this out within the same week. But I diiiid! The songs being performed are: 'Popular' - Wicked 'Ohmigod You guys' - Legally Blonde: The Musical (Original Cast Recording) | Have fun reading ! Feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments <3 (only warning is that the process of putting a theatre production together is probably not super realistic here lmao) 02 03 04

“One five, four five, three five, two five, one five, four five, three-two-one,”

You clutched the white binder containing your sheet music to your chest as you went through every vocal exercise from middle school that you could remember.

From the diaphragm, you reminded yourself, taking another deep breath.

“One five,

Four five,

Three five,

Two five,

One five,

Four five,

Three-two-one–”

“Y/N L/N?” the casting director’s voice called out to you.

Your stomach lurched as you rose from your seat and approached the stage. You handed the sheet music over to the pianist. The blinding stage lights made you sweat beneath your uniform, but part of you was grateful that it hid the faces of your four-person audience. 

The first chord was your cue.

“Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I…”

You sang the lines through your nose, making your delivery as cartoonish as possible. It even earned a few laughs from the dark void in front of you that bolstered your confidence. 

Now, when playing a character such as Galinda, one may be tempted to keep the squeaky ‘princess voice’ the whole way through. But you knew better. 

You added depth to your voice for some lines, maybe a growl here, a cry there; your performance needed to show that you could do more than just play the pretty soprano lead.

You belted the final note, arms spread wide as if you weren’t just about to vomit from nerves, and curtsied.

There was disembodied applause, and then: “Thank you, we’ll be sure to send out an email on Friday to let you know if you got the part.”

“Thanks,” you exhaled as you stepped down from the stage. 

All that there was left to do was wait.

You were jumpy all Friday afternoon. Even Miles noticed your knee making your desks tremble with the way it bounced up and down in the middle of English class.

“Yo, you good?” he whispered.

You shot him a glare while tapping your pencil frantically. “None of your business.”

“It actually is my business,” he shot back, teeth clenched, “ ‘cuz you’re shaking the damn desk.”

“Is there a problem back there?” the English professor peered over his glasses at the two of you.

“Nope,” Miles sighed. “Not at all.”

Your leg stopped bouncing, and you rested your chin on top of folded hands.

“If you must know,” you muttered, “I had an audition the other day, and callbacks are supposed to be this evening.”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh…kay…?”

“What do you mean ‘okay’? I’m super nervous about it–”

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

Your eyes widened. Why were you telling him this?

“I…well, you’re sitting next to me, and you asked–” 

“I didn’t ask for allat.”

You kissed your teeth, and went back to taking notes in silence.

-

“Oh, the principal’s gonna love that.”

Joshua Baptiste–current president of Visions’ art club–grinned as he watched Miles add his signature to the wide sheet of paper.

Miles replaced the cap on one of his paint markers with a click, assessing his work.

It was a poster for an upcoming pep rally, advertised in bold, sleek letters that curled in and around each other and ended in sharp arrows. Satisfied, he rose to his feet.

“You think?”

“Hell yeah. Better than anything I could’ve put together,” Joshua ran a hand through loose, sandy curls. “I’m more of a portraits kinda guy.”

The boy’s smile was contagious, showing off two rows of light blue braces. Miles remembered how he used to circle back around to his lunch table just to see them when he laughed with his friends, silver earrings tinkling as he threw his head back. 

He’d done crazier things just to see a crush.

Miles returned the compliment, “Your paintings go crazy, though. You could get into art school if you put a portfolio together.”

Joshua shrugged. “Doubt my parents would ever let me go.”

The other hummed in agreement.

“Anywho, I came over here to ask you a favor. Theater club needs an extra pair of hands working on the set, and I already said one of our guys would help out. You in?”

Miles raised an eyebrow at the sudden new project being dumped on him, but he relented. Not like he had anything better to do today.

“Sure. Where to?”

Joshua’s face lit up, and he gestured for Miles to follow him.

“They’re down in the auditorium. You’re a life-saver, man.”

The auditorium was already bustling with students when the two boys entered. There was one group on the far right busy customizing piles of hot-pink costumes with bows and sequins. On the left side, a bunch of kids clutched wrinkled scripts in their hands, practicing until it was time to run through the first few songs. Miles looked up, and taking center stage was a group of no more than ten girls practicing what looked like stage choreography. 

Regardless of what each group was working on, there was an urgency bordering on panic to their movements and voices. Miles thanked his past self for not signing up to be a part of it.

“Oh, thank god!”

A tall, stocky-looking girl wearing pink glasses scurried up to them, carrying a clipboard.

Joshua gestured towards Miles. “Here’s your guy! He’s got an eye for color, you’re in good hands.”

He gave a quick salute before turning to exit through the double doors.

The girl stuck out her hand. “I’m Sarah Park, junior, and student production manager for, uh, all of this!”

Miles accepted the handshake and nodded. “Cool. What’s your vision for the set?”

“Well, it’s…”

Before Sarah could finish, the lights dimmed, and a voice announced: “We’re gonna rehearse the opening, everyone in ‘Ohmigod You Guys’, please take your places!”

She grabbed Miles’ wrist and led him to a seat in the front row and whispered, “You should probably just see it.”

Suddenly, music boomed from the speakers as the stage lights illuminated the same girls from before, now all standing in a straight line across the stage with wide smiles.

They sang a number he didn’t recognize, but there was plenty of squealing as they passed down a blank sheet of paper as a prop. He deduced from the few lyrics he caught that they were playing sorority girls, but that was about it.

As the “Ohmigods” crescendoed, Miles noticed that there was someone entering from backstage that then stood behind the girls. He wondered what for, until the group parted and stepped to the side.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for who stood in the middle of the stage. In a blonde wig.

“It’s almost there, but…”

Miles’ jaw dropped as you recited your lines fully in-character. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that you could smile without malice, but people were full of surprises: Here was the girl who rarely spoke more than a sentence in class until last week, belting her heart out while twirling across the stage. He would have pinned you as more of the debater type.

The song ended on one final “Oh my god!” in unison before the lights were turned back up.

“Great job, everyone, especially for a first run-through. Everybody take five!”

You sighed in relief, wiping away the sweat collecting around your hairline from being beneath a hot wig and an even hotter spotlight. Wig in hand, you carefully descended down the steps with the rest of the cast and made your way back to your seats.

Sarah brushed past you in between aisles, along with a familiar red hoodie.

You paused and spun around on your heel, confirming your fears. 

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

[rosewaterandivy]

stop making plans / start making sense

Summary: eddie finds himself smack dab in the middle of an ap english iv class, all because some do-gooders at Hawkins High happen to “believe in him” or whatever. the catch? it just so happens to be your ap english class.

A continuation of this blurb and the result of an ongoing eddie munson hc convo with @powderblueblood 💚

Warnings: eddie’s senior year 2.0, no Upside Down, scary smart debate team captain reader, NHS president and tutor nancy wheeler, ap music theory nerd and general nuisance robin buckley, pretentiousness alert - you have been warned!

W.C.: 1771

It’s his second time around as a senior, not even the first week of school under his belt when Mrs. Meloy calls him into her office. The counseling center, which he is unfortunately far too familiar with, is busy as it usually is at the beginning of the year— schedule changes, registration, students complaining about not getting late arrival or early dismissal. Before he can settle in one of the worn chairs by the door, a woman pops her outside of an office door. She glances around, blue eyes searching for someone or something, before landing on Eddie.

“Think the wall can hold itself up just fine Edward,” She calls as she opens the door to her office and waves him in.

He grouses at the use of his full name and rolls his eyes, languidly strolling into the smaller room that smells overwhelmingly of cinnamon.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

She’s turned around, fingers flicking through thick manilla files in the cabinet in front of her. A cup of coffee sits on her cluttered desk, cold, from the looks of it. Mrs. Meloy mutters under her breath before turning from the filing cabinet in annoyance.

“It’s only the first week of school,” Eddie points out, “I haven’t done anything.”

The yet between them goes unspoken.

The older woman merely raises a knowing brow and takes her seat opposite him. She sorts through a few loose papers on her desk before letting out a surprised huff, “Gotcha!” Flipping through the file, his file, Eddie supposes, her eyes scan over what is undoubtedly his lack of academic achievement.

Satisfied with her perusal, she sets the papers down on her desk and addresses him.

“Round two.” Mrs. Meloy begins, resignedly. “Hopefully the NHS tutoring placement will be to your benefit Mr. Munson. Miss Wheeler is an exemplary student and I have high hopes for you under her tutelage.”

She then runs through his current schedule, emphasizing the classes he needs to perform well in (mostly all of them, save for English and a few others).

“Which brings me to the reason for our meeting today,” she says with a smile. “It has not escaped my notice, nor that of Mrs. Seguin, that you are quite adept in English class. At least,” she qualifies with a pull of her lips, “When properly motivated.”

And yeah, okay, he was decidedly not trying all that hard in Mrs. S.’s senior English class last year and he breezed through with a respectable A minus.

Wayne even got a little choked up when he read that particular report card.

“I guess so,” he says with a cross of his arms.

“Rather than having you repeat the same content and curriculum this year, Mrs. Seguin and I have petitioned the principal for permission to move you into a more challenging and appropriate English class.”

Well, that perks him right up.

“Principal Higgins has agreed to the change, with a few stipulations.”

Of fucking course.

The gist of it is, Eddie’s admittance to the AP English IV class will be probationary for the first quarter, given his past exploits and record. If he can keep his grades at a respectable B across the board, Eddie will be permanently placed in Mrs. Seguin’s advanced class. If he can’t, it’s back to regular Senior English with that crone, Mrs. Cotter.

Easy peasy.

And he’s almost out the door when Meloy stops him with a furitive, “Eddie,” and pauses to look him in the eye. “We believe in you and we went to the mat with Higgins on this.” She says emphatically, standing up to escort him through the office, “You can do this, Eddie, we know you can.”

She smiles and sends him off with his newly revised schedule, the summer reading assignment, and information for Wayne to peruse about Advanced Placement courses.

The rest of that day unfolded as expected despite his new schedule. Slight differences were made, such as: Eddie sitting in the middle of the class instead of the back, hopefully next to Buckley or Wheeler if he could swing it.

With Nancy’s help, he was able to narrow the summer reading options down to books that would hold his interest. The librarian, Ms. Berkowitz, was more than happy to oblige him with checking out a copy of Notes from the Underground by some Russian dude whose name Eddie couldn’t possibly pronounce.

The bell for the final class of the day rang just as he slipped through Mrs. Seguin’s door.

“Timely as ever,” she teased and kicked the door stop into the classroom.

Her room was the same as last year, but the mood within was markedly different— more relaxed and at ease. Students sat where they pleased and chatted amongst themselves while Mrs. S. checked off the roll and fielded a few questions from the group.

Eddie settled in the only open seat right in between Nancy and yourself. He tried not to be offended that you didn’t even glance up from your furious scribbling on the page, seemingly writing a mile a minute, as if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

Ink smeared on the college ruled paper underneath your hand.

Eddie found it endearing.

“Okay, okay, let’s get this show on the road.” Mrs. S. set her clipboard on the desk and leaned against it with a casual grace.

She was one of the newer teachers to Hawkins High, from some big name school out west with not one, but two degrees framed on the wall behind her desk. She was young and quick to laugh; the older teachers were a bit weary of her and those “new agey” teaching philosophies, but the results produced were proof enough for her to granted the AP English III and IV courses for this year. According to Nancy, she’d only had AP juniors and regular seniors last year.

Eddie, being one of those regular students, would know.

“Alright, hopefully we’ve brought in our summer reading novels today. The goal is to break you all into thematic groups based on your selected text. From there, you will collaborate with your peers to create a presentation on your findings.”

With this, she steps away from her desk and begins writing on the chalkboard.

“Consider such things as character archetype, thematic resonance, literary merit, of course. But more importantly,” she says, turning to the class with a smile, “How did the story affect you? What new perspective or insights were gained? What concepts were reinforced? Did you despise the protagonist, or did you identify too closely with them?”

The class has fallen to a hush, you’ve stopped writing and are rapt with attention. Eddie, used to overworked teachers and coaches who could care less, is shocked.

“I remind you, as always, that there are no right or wrong answers in here. As long as you can support your interpretation—” She begins.

“With evidence from the text,” The class choruses in reply.

“Good, exactly.”

At that, students break away into smaller groups and begin talking in hushed tones about the project.

“Whatcha got there?”

This, from Robin, who unceremoniously plucks Eddie’s book from his grasp. She flips through it, eyes lighting in interest, just as Mrs. Seguin makes her way over.

“Eddie, always good to see you.”

“Right back at ya, Mrs. S.”

She smirks, eyeing Robin scanning through Dostoevsky. “Had a feeling you’d gravitate toward the nihilists. Got a chance to start reading yet?”

He swipes the book back from Robin and ignores her petulant pout.

“Uh, kinda. Started it during lunch today.”

She nods knowingly, “Well, I’m sure you’ll be caught up in no time.” Surveying the classroom she nods to herself, “And now that I think of it,” She turns back to Eddie, “Looks like you’re in the right group over here.”

He almost says there is no group over here, but then he notices Nancy and Robin chatting with you. Feeling his stare, you turn back from where you’ve set up shop on Robin’s desk and jerk your head, an invitation by any other name.

“C’mon Munson, we don’t have all day.” You say this softly, chidingly, with no real heat behind it. Your eyes narrow as a group gets particularly loud across the way, “Because I’m certainly not about to let Phillips show us up.”

“Oh, bite me!” Phillips crows from his desk.

“You wish, you cretin!”

Eddie does his best to hide the curl of his lips and stifle a laugh while Phillips sulks at his desk.

Robin thumbs through a worn copy of Nausea while Nancy talks Eddie through the plan thus far. She’s read The Death of Ivan Ilyich and come to the conclusion that the novels in the group are both deeply depressing and deal with themes of existentialism, and in some cases, nihilism.

“I dunno. Philosophy is all well and good, but,” you pipe up, “Mine had elements of magical realism and a satirical critique of Soviet Russia.”

Eddie attempts to process what you and Wheeler have just said. Sensing a lull in the conversation, you slyly pass your novel over to Eddie and start to take notes over whatever it is Nancy is rambling on about.

The Master and Margartia.

Huh, weird title.

He reads the blurb on the back cover and kind of regrets not choosing this one to read. Maybe you’ll let him borrow it after the project is over. Setting it back on your desk, Eddie peruses the syllabus Mrs. S. must’ve slipped him.

“So, will that work for you Eddie?”

Lost in a daze of genres and titles, he looks up. “Sorry, what was that?”

Nancy sighs, “We’re going to meet at my house on Thursday for a study group. I know you and Mike have that thing on Fridays, so.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks Wheeler; that’ll work.”

With a smile, she goes back to chatting with Robin.

“Psst.”

A neatly folded paper lands on his desk. Eddie glances at you, curious, taking in your arched brow and smirk.

Scary smart, he reminds himself as he unfurls the page.

I know Nance is your NHS tutor, but if you feel like you need to catch-up for this class, give me a call.

Your deft hand and neatly printed letters dance across the page, an errant smear of ink where the heel of your hand drug across the paper. The digits of your phone number underneath your missive make his heart race.

Annotating your copy of Dune without permission was one thing. And at that you didn’t even bat an eye, but this…

Well, this had potential.

He tries not to let the possibility of what if turn to ash in his mouth.

[nametakensff]

If you feel like doing another prompt… Making a Scene and Obnoxiously Noisy for Steve?? You just write his huge sneezes so well!

I *absolutely* feel like doing this prompt!! 😍 Here is 2.5k of mutual fetish AU S/teve teasing the fuck out of E/ddie at an art gallery with his tickly nose and massive sneezes <3

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, sneezing from unknown irritant, photic sneezes, extremely loud sneezes, spray, build-ups, shameless sneezing, announcing sneezes, exhibitionism/voyeurism, embarrassment, public arousal, teasing, public masturbation, S/teve makes a total spectacle of himself

CW: E/ddie experiencing a little fetish related shame, S/teve absolutely caught him off guard but they're both menaces so yeah

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

To say Eddie was distracted was an understatement. It was kind of a shame,  because the art exhibit Robin had dragged them to was fairly interesting, in the poke-fun-at-all-the-‘art’-that-is-actually-a-pile-of-random-junk kind of way. This wasn’t Robin’s usual style at all, and he highly suspected (nah, scratch that, knew) that it had something to do with the quirky babe that met them at the doors and pulled Robin into a fierce hug.

Any fun-poking would need to be a covert exchange between Steve and himself. Some of these works were just begging for a snarky back and forth, but unfortunately, Steve was currently…preoccupied. Eddie tried not to stare too hard at his boyfriend as he sniffled, nostrils arching in irritation.

That morning as Eddie had been brushing his teeth in Robin’s bathroom, he nearly choked on his toothpaste as Steve, somewhere downstairs, practically roared out the most amazing sneeze. He nearly choked on a mouthful of frothy saliva and spat it out at once, gripping the counter and waiting with bated breath for a repeat performance. When it came, his knees felt weak.

“HUHHH’RESHHHHHOOOOHHH!!!”

He closed his eyes, letting the echoing sound of it burrow into his mind, where it played on loop as he continued to get ready for the day. He managed to avoid the temptation to jerk off, which took no small amount of effort on his part. His stubborn cock was begging to be touched, but since he was already significantly more behind than Robin and Steve, he strangled it into submission by thinking about calculus papers and natural disasters.

Steve was sat at the kitchen table, finishing a piece of toast. When Eddie ascertained that Robin was nowhere in sight he took no time in sidling up to his boyfriend.

“Bless you, honey,” he muttered, kissing Steve on the cheek and pulling him into a clingy hug, desperate to be touching him.

“You heard me, huh?” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice even as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck and breathed in his scent.

“You know I did.” Eddie pulled back and uttered in a gravelly voice, totally undermining his earlier attempts at keeping his arousal under control. “I bet the neighbour’s neighbours heard you, big boy.”

Steve laughed and blushed in such a pretty way that Eddie had been ready to plow him on top of the table when a frazzled Robin emerged and informed them they had 5 minutes to get to the car. Eddie pulled his boner up and tucked it under his belt, accepting his blue-balled fate until he could get Steve alone, potentially by evening. Easy enough.

Or, it should have been easy enough, had Steve stopped at those two sneezes. But no, the bastard had to sneeze at the sun the way he sometimes did when it was really bright outside:

“RRRISSSCHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

Eddie’s miserable, constrained dick throbbed. He climbed reluctantly into the seat behind Robin on the passenger side, Steve driving and Robin giving directions. Loathe as he was to be condemned to the back seat, it was probably for the best that he just gaze out of the window and think about anything but Steve at the present moment anyway.

It wouldn’t matter how good of a job he’d done letting his mind wander to the latest D&D campaign he’d been planning, because Steve would sneeze all over again, breath hitching loudly enough that Eddie looked over in time to see him douse the steering wheel in a huge cloud of spray.

“HAAHHH’GGGITTSCHHHHH’IEWWW!!!”

Eddie sat on his hands, biting his lip hard enough to hurt. Steve was killing him. That sneeze had been incredible; so fucking loud, so wet and desperate. And the way his boyfriend sprayed the wheel in his hands hard enough to leave visible, glistening drops of moisture, the rest of the cloud glittering in the sun…it was so erotic Eddie’s stomach felt weak.

Robin was predictably ribbing Steve and rolling down her window in semi-mock disgust, and normally Steve would be more apologetic, but today he merely shook his head and uttered a relieved ‘Whew!’ in response. He and Robin were saying something and the pair of them burst into laughter, but Eddie couldn’t follow. All he could seem to focus on now was the overwhelming need to empty his balls as soon as he possibly could. When Steve looked over his shoulder at him and winked, so quickly that Eddie might have missed it was he not boring a proverbial hole into the back of his boyfriend’s head with his staring, he wanted to scream.

It seemed like Steve was going to sneeze again when they got out of the car at the gallery. Hands on hips, he peered up into the sun, face falling as a tickle started to build and tease. Eddie was helpless to look away, watching as Steve started to take in a series of huge breaths, broad chest expanding as he panted his way towards relief. It only lasted about five seconds but felt like ten minutes.

When Steve did sneeze, bending nearly in half with the force of it as he aimed it towards the ground, Eddie was convinced he was going to orgasm right there in the middle of the car park, right in front of Robin.

“HHHHRR’RRRUSHHHHHH’OOOOHHhh!!!”

Miraculously, he did not cum - even as he watched Steve’s sneeze splatter the tarmac; even as Steve sighed in relief and wiped his nose and mouth on the back of one hand.

“God, dingus, you good??” Robin asked, mercifully unaware of Eddie’s dry-mouthed gawking.

“Yeah, shit, sorry. I’m fine.” Steve responded, shaking his head a little like a bewildered Golden Retriever might. As Robin walked away, he turned to look at Eddie, a grin splitting his face – and then the bastard winked again. He tipped his head in the direction of the gallery, a gesture for Eddie to hurry up, then turned heel and made his way towards the building.

Eddie took a moment to compose himself, unsuccessfully, then followed. Steve didn’t often sneeze like this, not unless he was coming down with something, but he seemed perfectly healthy. He hadn’t been exposed to anything he was allergic to as far as Eddie was aware. Either way, he was clearly enjoying teasing the ever-living shit out of him, and even though it was driving him insane, Eddie begrudgingly admitted he was enjoying it too. No matter. He could take a little teasing, and more importantly, he could dish it back out ten-fold, preferably at some later date when Steve least expected it. He buried the thought as Robin introduced him to her artsy friend, and the four made their way inside.

~~~~~

Steve was fine for around ten minutes before Eddie started to notice the way he would reach up to scrub at his nose. Eddie had already downed a flute of complimentary champagne and wanted to go and find more, but he also didn’t want to miss the inevitable explosion. No doubt he’d hear it no matter what part of the building he was in, he thought, and then dug his nails into his palms as punishment for turning himself on even more.

Robin had wandered off with her friend, leaving Steve and Eddie to wander aimlessly themselves amongst the piles of reassembled clothing. The clothes were of no consequence to either of them, however; they could have been on motherfucking Mars for all the difference it made. Steve was utterly distracted by his need to sneeze, and Eddie was utterly distracted by Steve.

“Are you doing okay, man?” Eddie eventually asked, more out of a need to dispel his pent-up giddiness than anything else.

“Mm.” Steve muttered, then sniffled and flared his nostrils. He smirked as Eddie’s eyes followed the motions. “Fine, fine. Just need to sneeze again.”

“Fuck. Fuck you.”

Eddie grabbed another flute from the tray of a disgruntled looking staff member and opened his throat to down it all in one go. Steve laughed, and Eddie flipped him off with both hands.

A couple of minutes later, as Eddie was squinting judgmentally at what appeared to be an exploded suitcase, he felt Steve reach out and touch his arm. Any arousal he’d managed to curtail with boring modern art surged back in an instant, the look of sheer pre-sneeze desperation plastered across Steve’s face sending his heart rate skyrocketing.

“Eddie-! I’m gonna-!”

“I know, I know, fuck. Let’s get you outside.”

Eddie grabbed Steve by the wrist and started to drag them towards the exit. When he was met with resistance, he turned around in utter confusion. Steve hated making a scene when he sneezed, which was practically every time other people were around. Usually, he would have already been semi-sprinting outside himself. When Eddie locked eyes with him, however, he saw, even as Steve’s eyelids struggled to stay open, that his boyfriend’s eyes were twinkling with naked amusement.

What the fuck has gotten into him today, Eddie’s brain managed to think amidst the roaring arousal and budding anxiety. If Steve wanted to sneeze himself silly indoors, in front of all these people, then he could go ahead; Eddie certainly wouldn’t object to him putting on a show. He was painfully aware, however, of the fact that if everyone was looking in the direction of Steve, no doubt everyone would also be able to see him – red in the face, breathing already laboured like some caricature of a dirty old man. Fuck.

“Steve, I really think we should get you outside.” He tried again, his voice sounding embarrassingly high-pitched and hysterical.

It made no difference. Even if Steve had suddenly come to his senses and agreed with him, he couldn’t have moved if he tried, now firmly in the throes of a gasping build-up.

“HUH-HH!! HUH! HAHHDT-!!”

Eddie’s cock throbbed with each gasp, obscenely loud, audible enough that a few bystanders had already turned to look in search of the source. Eddie’s nails dug into his palms even harder as he watched on. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but wait for the inevitable. He jumped as Steve suddenly grabbed him by the bicep, clinging to him as he continued to surrender to the tickle. Bastard! Fucking asshole, making it impossible for Eddie to stay out of the spectacle. His face burned as more people turned around and stared straight at the pair of them. It was embarrassing as hell, but it was also turning him on to no end. Excitement and shamelessness warred with a smattering of self-loathing inside of him.

At last, Steve sucked in one huge gasp, chest expanded to capacity (stretching the stupidly preppy, tight little t-shirt Eddie pretended to hate). He paused for a moment, a perfectly desperate pre-sneeze expression twisting his features. He looked beatific, Eddie thought; a picture of total surrender, absolutely gorgeous. He forgot where they were for a brief moment as he stared and stared at his boyfriend – and then Steve sneezed.

“HAAAHHH’RESSSHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

The first sneeze shot out of him, pitching him forward violently and causing Eddie to scramble to support him. The high ceilings and cavernous layout of the building amplified the sound - already impressive under normal circumstances - to practically ear-splitting. Eddie actually heard some people yelping in surprise, heard the sound of metal clattering to the ground as if someone had dropped something. Steve reared his head back.

“AEEEGK’TISHHHHHH’IEWWW!!!”

The second sneeze jostled them both, and Eddie watched through unblinking eyes as the colossal cloud of spray it produced drifted to the floor, joining the splatters of its predecessor. He shivered, feeling almost feverish as Steve drew back to wind up for another monster, nostrils flared to capacity and mouth gaping wide.

“HUHHHH’RUSSSSSHHHHHH’AHHH!!!”

The third sneeze was somehow louder, wetter than the previous two; Steve practically bellowed it out, another dense cloud of spray gracing the air. Eddie sensed eyes upon them, so many eyes, but he didn’t have it in him to look away from Steve; he was just as entranced as they were.

Steve wound back again, looking agonised and orgasmic all at once, and Eddie knew this next sneeze – and god, let it be the last because otherwise he was going to die and/or cum in the middle of this stupid fucking gallery – would be the biggest yet. Steve gasped, squeezing Eddie’s bicep like a lifeline, and sneezed as hard as Eddie had ever seen him do.

“HHHUHHHH’RUSSSSHHHHHHH’OOOOHHhh!!!”

Another fucking stunner. Eddie’s entire body felt electric. He felt like jello, like he’d already cum and was basking in afterglow. Somehow, he had managed to keep it together. His grip on Steve was firm, steadying him as he panted in the aftermath of what Eddie was sure had to have been some of sexiest sneezes to have ever graced the planet.

The echo of the final eruption faded, and left in its wake a silence that was somehow even more jarring than the cacophony of sneezes. Eddie peeled his eyes away from Steve’s flushed face, peering round the room and noting that everyone – every single fucking person in sight – was staring. One woman clutched a hand to her chest as if moments away from a heart attack; another man’s mouth was actually hanging open in shock.

Steve cleared his throat and coughed gently, completely involuntarily. Eddie’s eyes swiveled back to him in concern, but before he could get a word out, the room erupted into laughter and murmurs alike, as if Steve had broken the spell of silence just as easily as he’d cast it. A man walked up to them and clapped Steve on the back good-naturedly; a couple of people shouted blessings across the room; Eddie caught snippets of conversations, things like ‘…poor thing!....must be exhausted…biggest sneezes I’ve ever…’.  

He watched in disbelief as Steve boyishly ran a finger under his nose, smiling and joking with the man and a little crowd of onlookers. He could scarcely fucking believe it, but somehow the immense charisma of his boyfriend had effectively endeared these people to him even after blowing their eardrums out. He was so in shock with the turn of events that when Steve turned to him and murmured a playful “Bless me”, he nearly lost it.

“Bathroom,” he muttered before practically sprinting to the men’s room, almost deflating in relief when he saw it was unoccupied. He locked himself in one of the stalls, pulled his painfully hard, dripping cock out of his pants and started a no-nonsense rhythm on himself. He could practically taste his orgasm, body going rigid and knees shaking. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, unsure whether he’d be able to stop himself from sliding to the ground when he did cum.

Suddenly, a muffled fifth sneeze from Steve echoed out, audible all the way from the other side of the gallery in its booming intensity. If that hadn’t been enough to send Eddie hurtling over the edge, it was the following laughter and blessings directed at his boyfriend that pushed his orgasm from fantastic to mind-blowing. He yelped, cumming hard in long streaks all over the linoleum floor, mewling and twitching as he rode it out to completion.

As he sat there in the aftermath, sweat dripping down his back and gluing his t-shirt to his heaving chest, Eddie was already beginning to formulate a plan to pay Steve back in earnest. He peered absentmindedly at the mess he’d made and smiled.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Dead Robins Club

Summary: Jason and the boys are in a band and you're the bands social media manager.

Pairing: Photographer!Reader x Drummer!Jason Todd.

4.7k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Rock Band! AU, swearing, bondage with chains, teasing, choking, hair pulling, spanking, object insertion, man handling, pet names, dirty talk, probably something else very horny I forgot.

The music rings through the hall of the dark and atmospheric club, Tim's guitar solo brings the crowd forward, the patrons push the barricade to try and get closer to them. You step closer to the stage, keeping your security guard close as you pace behind the barricade hoping to find the perfect angle for the band's socials. Tim slides out in front of Damian who's belting the lyrics to their latest song so loud you’ll be surprised if he can talk after.

The crowd grows wild, people cheering and dancing behind you as you snap a photo of the two front men singing angrily into the microphone. 

"Oh my God!" A woman shouts behind you, "there he is. Fuck, he's so fine," you don't need to turn, knowing that she's staring at the now spotlighted drummer, sweat pouring off his head, the drumsticks twirling in his long fingers, those pretty blue eyes fixed on his drums. The chains on his pants rattling, his studded vest flapping with how fast his arms are moving, his curls plastered to his face with how much he’s sweating. 

"Looks like they're going to rush soon," a familiar voice whispers into your ear piece as you click the shutter on your camera. The 3 of them now in the shot, "head back, don't want another incident."

"Two seconds, Dickie. Get my margarita ready." You respond, turning to take a few pictures of the crowd and a few on your phone of the drummer, just for you, before you head backstage.

You meet Dick at the side of the stage, your drink already in his hand as he offers you a seat. "Don't know why they wouldn't let me book a bigger place," he says taking the seat next to you, "this place is packed and everyone on the internet is bummed they didn't get tickets."

"Makes it more exclusive," you shrug, moving your head so you can peer from behind the curtains at the flex of Jason's arms, "plus you know what they're like, they still think their small time."

You and Dick sit together, sometimes getting up to dance when the music compels you. But you're always watching him, the quick way his fingers twirl the drumsticks, how his legs flex as he beats the drums, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead. 

His eye catches yours for a moment and he smiles at you. Your heart starts to beat faster, your cheeks getting warm and your legs going gooey as you return the smile. Seeming to notice the effect he's having on you, he throws his favourite pair of drumsticks in the air before catching them and falling back into the song.

The crowd goes wild as the last song of the set comes to an end. Tim and Damian thank the crowd for coming out to see the last show The Dead Robins Club would be performing in this city, before the boys head to the side of the stage towards you. 

"Show us the pics!" Tim says coming up beside you and leaning over your shoulder, "did you get the mic toss?"

"I did and I got your power slide," you flick through your reel, showing him most of the pictures you took, all the ones on your official camera at least. The ones on your phone were, are, personal. And you don’t wanna feed Jason’s hordes of thirsty ass fans with the slightly provocative pictures you took of his hands and his pretty face.

"Shame, still none of Jay," he says, slapping his brother on the shoulder, "guess we know who the favourites are big guy" 

"A huh," Jason grunts as he passes you, "meet you guys at the hotel."

"You're leaving already?" Dick asks, trying to stop Jason as he starts to pack up his things, "the fans want autographs."

"Like Timmy said, I ain't no one's favourite." He pulls his bag over his shoulder, ignoring Dicks protests, he shoots you a look before he walks down towards where the cars are waiting.

You entertain the boys for an hour helping them get selfies with fans, before Dick announces that it's time to wrap up. 

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar?" Dick asks as the boys head out to do their own things, "the night's still young and so are we."

"Nah I’m good. It's been a long day,” you yawn for affect, “Plus I gotta get all these,” you gesture to your camera, “edited and uploaded,” you give him a sympathetic look, “I think I'm just going to go to bed before we have to get back on the plane tomorrow, sorry Dickie"

"Suit yourself. I guess I'll just sit and drink,” he pouts at you, “alone."

"Sure you won't be alone for too long." You joke, giving him a quick hug and heading up the elevator.

Xx

You pull out the key card, slipping it into the lock and stepping into the room. A familiar face already waiting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, and his large combat boots kicked across the room, "took ya long enough."

"You know how they are," you shrug off your coat, "Dick still didn't wanna go to bed," you toe off your shoes and step towards him, "I can't just leave him."

"You can," Jason stands, grabbing you and pulling you down onto the couch on top of him.

“But he uses those puppy dog eyes on me and I feel bad.”

“That’s the only trick that guy knows,” he rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist, "just tell him you got a better offer."

"Did I though?"

"Cheeky," he kisses you like he's been waiting all day to get you alone, his hands already clinging to you and starting to peel your clothes away, "I saw you watching me, sweetheart," he finally frees your shirt from your pants and pulls it over your head.

“I wouldn’t, didn’t you hear the boys,” you pull his vest from his back, “No pictures of you.”

"There's always a way for me to check," he smirks into your kiss, his fingers slipping down to your ass, then reaching into your back pocket for your phone and dangling it in front of your face.

“Won’t find anything in there.” you lie, unconvincingly.

“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” he raises his eyebrow at you.

“No,” you grab for it, but he pulls his arm up higher. You jump, and he drops it behind the couch, giving you a knowing look.

“That's what I thought,” his fingers toy with the button on your jeans, “What else are you lying to me about?” he grabs at the band, pulling them down to your hips, "Is my pussy wet for me?"

"I-"

"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" He kisses across your jawline as his fingers sink into your panties, stopping at your panty line, "no, not you. My good girl wouldn't lie to me," his fingers slip down lower meeting with the seeping spot in your panties, "tell me Kitten," he leans back meeting your eyes, "if you got such a better offer, why are you here with me with suck a soaking wet pussy?"

"Coincidence?" You joke, laughing as he lifts you up and your pants fall to the floor.

"Like fuck is it a coincidence," he throw you over his shoulder, "you bloody liar," he slaps you on the ass, "I know how watching me play affects you," he walks, his bicep just far enough away form your pussy go tease you, “bet you’ve got lots of good shots on your phone, don’t you?”

“Nope,” you giggle, your arms attempting to reach his ass, but his torso is so fucking long and thick.

“You're going to pay for that." he smacks you again, his fingers kneading at the tender flesh of your ass.

"Oh, no. How awful!" You start to squirm as he kicks the door to the bedroom open and drops you on the bed.

"First the lying and now the attitude," he tuts as he peels off his black t-shirt, "you poor thing," he unclips the chain from his pants, "You really need some sense fucked into you," he grabs at your hands slinking the chain around them and locking them together behind the bed head, "don't you?" Jason’s soft lips brush over yours.

"Yes."

"Good girl. Now, how should I punish you?" He thinks aloud, watching as you start to squirm when he pulls back from you. His studded belt releases his tight black jeans, "What?" He laughs as your eyes fixate on the way his huge hand is wrapping around his cock, "Do you like watching me play with myself?" He licks his lips, his teeth sinking in when he notices your hips gyrating into the air, "do you need some attention, Sweetheart?" 

'Please."

"But you haven't been good," he kneels on to the ground and you feel something cool touch your leg, the metal of the chains biting into your wrists as you strain to get free, "maybe I should coat my sticks on your cum," the cool wood glides up your thigh before slapping down onto your clit, "at our next show I'll be able to smell you on them," his eyes lock with yours, "wouldn't that be a nice treat for me, Kitten?"

"Yes, please," you try to move, but he just taps the drum stick onto your clit again, "that'd be so hot."

"Wouldn't it just," the tip of the drumstick slips down from your clit, dipping into you and you can't help the way your back arches into it, "so needy for me, aren't you Kitten?" The drumstick goes deeper, angling it up so it sweeps right over your g spot. Jasons free hand rests on your stomach as his thumb rubbing into your clit in just the way you like as he thrusts the stick into you. His eyes torn between watching your face and watching his favourite thing disappearing into his favourite person.

"Jason.”

"Does my girl need more?" He teases you, "need something bigger?"

"I do.”

"Show me," he chuckles, pulling the drumsticks from you with a pop and licking along its length, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. His face forlorn, torn between wanting to taste you and how bad he wants to fuck you, "show me where you want me Kitten?"

You whine, your hands jangling against the chains, tugging at them as you glare at him.

"Oh, you can't? You poor thing," his cock slaps on top of your pussy, "keep squirming for me  Kitten." He leans over your body, his lips finally meeting yours, "I love when you're needy for me like this. So desperate," his hand grips your face, "it's pathetic."

You try to pull your face from his grasp, but he holds you still. Your eyes start to wander until his nails dig into your cheeks, "keep those pretty eyes on me," you feel his cock slip back, the huge head pushing, teasing at your core, "you ready?" His head circles you, "nod or shake your head for me, Kitten. I know words are hard for you when you're like this."

You nod, your legs wrapping around Jason's thick thighs. Trying so hard to pull him closer, even if you know it's useless.

"Good girl. I can feel your legs tightening on me," he releases your face, his hand softly brushing your cheek where you imagine his claw marks are, "pull me in."

You tighten your legs even more, Jason moves closer, his cock pushing up against you until it starts to spread you, stretching you out as he sinks deeper and deeper inside you. You can’t help the moans that escape your lips as your pussy becomes so fucking full you think your brain might explode. “Breathe,” his fingers pull your bottom lip from your teeth, “Sweetheart, take a breath for me,” he starts to withdraw himself, not really restrained by the grip of your legs, “Kitten,” you suck in a breath, the overwhelming fullness turning your brain off for a second there.

“I’m breathing,” you reassure him, trying to pull your hands from the chains, “Please don’t go.”

“Do you want me to unchain you?” his eyes are so soft, one hand still on your face while the other traces little hearts into your thigh, “Is it too much?”

“I’m good, now. I just needed a minute,” you reassure him, “I promise, it’s just been-”

“A while, yeah I know.”

“Can we talk about it after, Jay?” you try to move, but he’s so heavy on top of you, “Because right now, I’d really like you to move.”

“Needy,” his fingers tighten on your thigh, pushing it back up towards your chest, “Impatient,” his soft caress on your cheek stops as his hand slips around your throat, “My good Kitten.” He starts to thrust, his hips meeting yours with every inwards motion. His pelvis grinding into your clit when he leans down to capture your lips with his. “I missed this,” he moans into your mouth, his fingers tightening in your hair while your legs cling to him.

“Missed you.”

“I’m right here, always.”

“Not close enough,” you thrust back up, “Closer, please.”

“Never been close enough to you,” Jason mewls, “You’re so fucking warm, Kitten.”

“Fuckin hot when that spotlight hits you.” you feel your pussy clench down on him when he smirks down at you.

“Not as beautiful as you do, shrouded in the dark of the clubs,” he brushes the hair from your face, smoothing it back behind your ear. The tingle tickles, jolting your body up and you feel his cock brush over your g spot.

“Jay, right there-” you moan into his ear, “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping until you cum on me,” his hand reaches up, releasing your hands from the chains with a snap of his fingers, “But I need your hands on me.”

Your wrists ache, but your hands quickly find their place in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours, kissing him deeper and sinking your teeth into his lip. With one hand in his hair, you slip the other down to his shoulder, bringing his chest flush with yours. The sweat of your bodies mingling as you both moan into the kiss. 

Your eyes open when he pulls back from you, his stubble brushing against your cheek, his moans filling your ears, “You’re fucking gripping me so tight, Kitten. You getting close?” he bites down on your neck, “I know you are.”

“Yes, I’m so close, Jay.” the animalistic sound that seems to reverberate from his throat is what sends you over the edge, the primal way he turns from somewhat sensual to fucking insane is something else. You can’t stop cumming, his cock somehow getting harder and deeper within you with every thrust and that sound just won’t stop. You almost question whether it's you making that noise, but when he starts to chant your name in your ear and you know he’s close.

“Jason.” you whisper hoarsely as your second round of pleasure starts to build inside you, you feel his cock throb, “Jason,” it’s twitching inside you, bouncing off your insides and making a smoothie out of them, “Jason.”

“Fuck me, Kitten,” his nails dig into your, his lips reaching for yours to quiet the scream he lets out into your mouth. Jasons cum paints your insides, but he doesn’t stop fucking you, “I don’t want this to end,” he pants between cries of pleasure, “I want to fuck you forever, to be inside you always.”

You don’t even realise you’re cumming again until your legs start to cramp and your mind goes numb, the thickness of Jason's cock slowly receding from you and his fingers replacing it. Gently gliding up and down as you twitch out the last of your orgasm. “You look beautiful like this. Carefree and relaxed.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead before falling down beside you and pulling you under his arm. “Take a deep breath.”

You do, snuggling into his side as you try to match his breathing. Your leg wrapping over his to try and leech some of his warmth. “I can breathe on my own, you know.”

“Yeah, but I know I take your breath away with my dashing looks.”

“True,” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him, “You’re very pretty,” you bouncing one of his curls, the white one, it’s your favourite.

“Not as pretty as you, Kitten,” he takes your hand. Holding it in his, his thumb grazing over your wrists, “Are your wrists ok?”

“They’re fine, a bit tender.”

“I’ll rub some of that coconut cream on them in a sec,” he gives them each a small kiss, “Just wanna cuddle you a bit longer.”

“I missed this,” you sigh, putting your arm over him and pulling yourself up so you're laid out flat on top of him, “tour buses suck. Maybe we should run away?”

“I wish, could you imagine. Dick would have a fucking heart attack. But I get what you mean and the next few weeks aren’t going to be any better.”

“We’ll have to get better at sneaking around.”

“You will.” he says, like he doesn't, “You think I’m the only one who knows you take pictures of me on your phone to jerk off to?”

“What?” you try to sit up in alarm only for Jason's arm to hold you close.

“Don’t worry about it, but Kitten,” he whispers, bringing your lips down to his, “tour buses are small, maybe next time, don’t moan my name in the middle of the night.”

Taglist: did I forget you? let me know in your most sarcastic typeface

@littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics

@lovelyrissa

Do you want to be on the everything Jason taglist? firstly, why? and nextly, let me know.

[romanreignseater]

Signature Here Please. (Part Two To “Signed Up”)

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: just ABSOLUTELY FILTHY SMUT

“You’ve been waiting for your punishment, and after a tense collision at the Royal Rumble… it’s happening. NOW!”

A/N: Thank you guys for the support on the first part, this is the finale to it and I hope it’s worth you while… cause, it’s a long read 😂😭.”

GIF: @litafan4ever

It’s been two months and Roman STILL hasn’t given you your punishment. You didn’t know where or when it was going to happen. Let’s just say… you were anxious.

“Get ready for punishment, cause you’ll never when it’s coming… and. Anything. Goes.” You smiled and say “I know what I signed up”. “Glad you do”.

Bitch… I don’t know what I signed up for. But, it’s the present day, the 2023 Royal Rumble, January 28th. Roman was going against Kevin Owens in the main event and after a quick trip from Manhattan following Ro’s appearance at the Tonight Show. We arrived at the Alamodome, and were in the Bloodline’s personal locker room. After the kickoff show, Pat McAfee returned home, the Men’s Royal Rumble was soon to begin and I need to get to my seat, when Roman sat beside me.

I smiled as I turned to face him. “You look so good tonight mama”, he said as he examined my tight, white tank top and form-fitting blue skinny jeans. Honey… his kids filled me out, but it was worth it in the end. He then softly, yet sensually kissed my lips. “Thank you, I’m super excited for your match tonight”, “I’m glad you’re excited, cause I sure am”, his face blazed with a menacing smile. “What are you up to Reigns?!”, you say curiously. “Little ole me…”, he crosses his legs, “I’m an absolute saint, I just plan on winning tonight baby”. I could never trust this man as far as I could throw him, and trust me his 265 compared to my 173. There’s NO way I could possibly throw him. “Are you okay?”, he asks me, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?!”. “Y/N, you’ve been staring off into space and biting your nails for the past minute and a half.”

Well, you were slightly nervous. One, because you’ve gone to like Sami in the Bloodline and was nervous to hear Roman say it was “Sami’s night”. Two, you knew Kevin brought out another side of Roman. And three, WHEN WAS YOUR PUNISHMENT COMING?! “Babe, you know I get pre-match jitters sometimes”, you say shaking to imitate those jitters. He looked absolutely puzzled, yet he doesn’t challenge your reasoning. “Well, alright I’m gonna go find security to escort me to my seat”, as I get up he smacks my ass and I lightly yelp. “Where you think you’re going without my fucking kiss?!”, he says sternly. “Aggressive much”, you bend over to give him a long kiss with a little tongue. “That’s more like it baby”, he said smiling loosely. I smiled back at him and headed out the door.

All Hell is about to break loose.

The time has arrived and let’s just say… it hasn’t been easy to watch. The match between Roman and Kevin started off a little slow, but soon picked up. The referee was taken out and that other side of Roman I spoke of, was OUT. Not only was Kevin hit below the belt, he was speared through the barricade… actually, he was speared multiple times. And probably the hardest part to watch was definitely Hardy’s performance, but Kevin’s head being banged against the steel steps, not once, but TWICE was definitely horrific. Sami’s face really showed what everyone was feeling watching that moment. Roman picked up the win, but by the look on his face I knew he wasn’t finished. The Usos and Solo arrived from backstage and Paul pulls out some handcuffs. They cuff Kevin to the top rope and begin an assault of super kicks. Despite Jey’s brilliant defense of Sami at the Tribal Court, Roman still needed to put Sami through the final test. When Sami refused to let Roman hit Kevin with the steel chair, he agrees with Sami that he is better than that and Sami should do it instead.

This wasn’t going to be good.

Sami just deflates and that angered Roman. It angered him so much that he put his hands on Sami. This was Sami’s final straw. As Roman turns around after telling Sami that he’s “theirs”, Sami did the unthinkable. The steel chair that I once remember going to Roman’s back nine years ago, hit him again. I stood still as the crowd erupted. Sami let go of the chair and apologized to Jey as he cried in confusion. Why he would do this after he’s had his back and finally trusted him? A super kick by Jimmy was soon plunged to the jaw of Sami and the WWE Universe was in utter disarray. Honorary Uce is No More. The Bloodline members soon took turns beating Sami and when it was Jey’s turn, he crumbled and left the ring. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing, but I knew the family would come together again. They had to.

“FUCK YOU ROMAN, FUCK YOU ROMAN, FUCK YOU ROMAN”!!

The biggest heel of our GENERATION. Those chants didn’t even faze him as he laid pieces of his lei upon Sami. He soon leaves the ring without two members of the Bloodline apart of his tow. I asked security to escort me backstage, where I catch Roman making a TikTok with Paul. Once they finished, he just walks past me. I scurried to follow them in my high heels. I reached their locker room and Roman coldly stares at me. He then addresses his wiseman to leave the room and they’ll speak later. Paul then exits the room

Still upset at the fact that he walked right past me, I decided to lay it on the table. “Ro, I understand you’re a little heated, but you had no right to walk past me like that!”, I said while stomping my heel to the ground trying to expel dominance. He chuckles as he says something that makes my heart skip a beat, “You remember that little ‘competition’ we had about… two months ago?”, I stood in shock. Of course I knew he did not forget, but it had been so long… “Y/N, answer me… NOW. Do you remember?!”, he slowly stood up and walked towards me. “Ye-s-s”, he stared into my eyes and smirked. He turned his back to me and went into his bag. He pulled out a rolled up piece of paper with his right hand, and grabbed my wrist with his left. He let the paper fall loose on the table in front of us.

“Sign your name here please.”, with no emotion to his face. “What is it?!”, you said confused. He lets out a deep breath and says, “Your punishment is laid out in this contract, that I have been meticulously planning for the past month now. Everything that I’ll do to you TONIGHT is all here.” I couldn’t believe my ears, what does he mean contract?! He hands me a pen, as I begin to read the short contract. At the top it says “PUNISHMENT CONTRACT” in bold letters, the body of this contract is just bullet points that say:

Bondage

Edging

Overstimulation

Cockwarming

Spanking

And… a WHOLE lot of hard fucking.

Sign signature below if you agree with conditions above:

X __________________________

P.S. no FOREPLAY

This was too much. Why NOW?! I hesitate as the pen in my hand is sure to snap due to my grip and sheer stress. He whispers in my ear, “Don’t let your mind grow out of proportion, just signnn on the dotted lineee”. I couldn’t say no, so I did it. He smiled and called our chauffeur. We soon end up at the hotel in the presidential suite. The car ride was torture as he counted from 1 to 2.9, describing the way he would edge me, like how he was nearly pinned in about 2.9999 seconds. I stand in front of the bed facing him as he demands me to remove my tank top, jeans, and panties. But, he wants my heels to stay on. I lay on the bed and spread my legs, but he smacks my thigh HARD and says, “The contract specifically said, NO FOREPLAY! We gettin’ straight to it. Ass up, face down…. NOW!” I complied with the Chief’s orders and assumed the position. I hear him laugh behind me and then, the sound of a belt being undone hits my ears.

“You better count bitch, cause I ain’t,”~SMACK~, “STOPPING!” He brings a brutal assault to my cheeks as I cry and beg for mercy. We were up to 25, when he thought it was enough. He then uses his belt and the LEGS of my jeans to tie me up to the bedposts. My pussy is sopping wet and I feel my essence run down my thighs. Roman can’t help but to smirk. “This pussy is all mine, right?!”, “Ye-e-ss, it’s all yours”. “What’s my name Y/N?!”, “Rom—“, you stopped mid sentence and shrieked as Roman started to spank you, switching from the palm side of his hand to the back side. “YOU KEEP TESTING ME!!”, he yells. He ceased his attack and asked me again, what his name was. “DADDY!! YOUR NAME IS DADDY!! I’m sorry…”, you cried and satisfied with that answer, you hear a zipper being pulled down and a thud of Roman’s pants falling to his ankles onto the floor.

You begin to squirm and whimper as the bed dips due to Roman’s massive frame. Tired of your constant whining, when you knew what you signed up for. Roman takes your panties from the floor and shoves it in your mouth. “That’ll teach you stop with that sour ass attitude like I told you”, he said oh-so calmly. Bringing himself back up, you feel the head of his massive cock rub sooo sweetly against your lips and clit. “Fuck mama, my dick is sliding so easily against MY pussy”, his filthy and sultry words, make you gush out another sample of wetness. As he tries to ease into your pussy, he just slides right in due to your entrance dripping waiting his arrival. He abuses your cunt and mind by slowly and softly sliding his mass into you. Then picks up the pace with his hard dick hitting your cervix and toned thighs slapping up against yours. You wanted to run, but had nowhere to go. And screaming wasn’t gonna do anything.

Here’s where the edging begins. The Tribal Chief starts to really get it in, as if he wanted another baby. To be honest, we could make it happen. He makes you count from 1 to 2.9, and as you get to 2.9, he stops and makes you start over again. It felt like this went on for a good ten minutes. “Come on baby, beg the Tribal Chief”, “Chief, p-lea-seeee, I need to C—UM!” “Go ahead o lo'u alofa, let it go”, he said with a slight hint of his Samoan heritage. Here’s the part you were dreading: OVERSTIMULATION. As you came, Roman entered a new glow, and sped up at an alarming rate. That boy was definitely going at least 20 MPH and you were not ready. You began squirting, as your panties fell from between your lips and you screamed. You begin to claw at the sheets and gnaw on your upper lip. You feel as if you’re going to pass out when Ro finally releases into your cunt. You’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. While you lay awaiting Roman’s next move, he untied your ankles and wrists while inside of you.

He then pulls out quickly and you moan at the loss of his warmth. He maneuvers his body underneath you and pulls you on top of him. “My favorite part”, he says really smiley, “You can’t help yourself?… Can you?!”, you said. “Nope”, with the pop of the “p”. He inserts himself back into you and let the cockwarming commence. Just as you both sensually make out with one another, there’s a knock on the door. “Who is it?!”, Roman boasts. “It’s Sami…”, another voice speaks and says “It’s Jey, we need to talk Uce”. You look at Roman absolutely bewildered, he puffs out a huge breath and removes himself from you, “You clean yourself up baby, I’ll be back.”, as he kissed your forehead you grabbed his wrist and told him “Remember what you signed up for… family.” He looked at you with complete understanding. “And more thing babe,” “Yeah.”, “Can’t answer the door with your dick out”, you said laughing. “Oh shit”. He grabs his pants from the ground and sends a wink your way as he exits the bedroom into the main room.

Jesus, what did I sign up for?!

THE END!!

WHEWWW, what a wild ride!! Like I said, I appreciate all your comments and compliments, it means everything to me 💕!! THANK YOU, LOVE YALL!

[midgardian-witch]

Howdy, its Ominoose. Making good on my threat.

So for Blue. Club Blue. Blue's quite hard on dancers, pushing them to follow customers every whim. But one customer is a bit rough with reader, and Blue feels a bit bad, and comforts them? Runs em a nice bath? Possible condescending ?

Hi there! Sorry for the wait, life once again got busy for me 😅 I do hope you'll enjoy this litte fic nonetheless.

And I just realized I perfectly scheduled this for Halloween so: Happy Halloween!

(@ominoose I am just going to tag you here since tumblr doesn't notify you when your anon ask gets answered)

Broken Toys

tags: hurt/comfort (though it's Blue so the comfort is questionable at best) | angst(y) | descriptions of physical abuse | gn!reader

ships: Blue Jones/Reader

AO3

Life at the Lennox is demanding, to put it mildly; especially one person: Blue Jones. 

Blue is not just your boss, he is the boss. What he says goes and God have mercy on you if you disappoint him. And in your time here as one of the dancers you have learned to do your best not to get on Blue's bad side. 

Nobody wants to be on his bad side. 

Of course 'dancer' is not really your full job description. Like the others you don't just dance on stage to entice and enchant the guests. You also seduce and delight the various patrons privately. At least the ones with enough money to buy a night with you alone. 

Those are Blue's favorite customers: lonely and rich. So these are the type you have to be extra nice to. Which doesn’t always go well for you. 

There are many things you enjoy about your job at the Lennox: your fellow performers, basking in the attention of dozens of people while you dance on stage, the soft and lonely customers that buy your time just to have a lovely creature like yourself sit on their lap and listen to them. Or the customers that pay money just to spend the night pleasuring you, to touch, to kiss and to give. 

Sadly the giving types are a rarity. 

More often than not you leave the secluded room the customer has rented for the night sore and aching. That's normal. You know how to handle that. 

But this time was different. 

The client was brutal. The man enjoyed seeing you suffer more than he did watching you bounce on his cock. So he tied you down, the rope digging painfully into your flesh, and took off his belt to use as a makeshift whip. You were shaking as soon as you saw him approach but what could you do? You couldn't say no to a customer, especially not a rich one. Because whatever this man could do to you? Blue could hurt you so much more. 

You don't know what's worse, once the client finally leaves: the pain or knowing Blue will be livid with you if you can't hide the bruises in time for your next on stage performance. 

So you sit down in front of your vanity, inspecting the various marks and bruises your latest customer has gifted you. You could feel them more than see them - for now. The bruises would soon bloom in a dark purple before turning a sickly yellow. You gasp as your fingers trace one of the irritated spots on your skin. 

You were so focused on mapping out the trail of pain you had been left with that you didn’t notice the door behind you opening. It’s only when you look up and see the reflection of the one man you really didn’t want to see at this moment.

“B-Blue!” you stammer, panicked as you turn around to face your employer. It’s always difficult to read his face, but the way his lips turn down in an angry scowl you feared the worst. “I-I can cover them up! It won’t impact my dancing, I swear!” You jump up from your seat, ready to further plead your case but wince instead, the movement too fast for your aching body, pain shooting up your spine.

You watch his eyes furrow as he takes a step closer. Instinct tells you to back away but you’re caught between Blue and your vanity. He reaches out to you and you freeze immediately. His hand hovers over the few bruises peeking out from underneath the silken robe you threw on after the customer had left. One-handedly he opens the loose knot that keeps your robe closed and at once your body is laid bare before him. His fingers graze your skin and you shiver, goosebumps forming under his fleeting touch.

“Now tell me, what happened here, sweetheart?”

His voice sounds so sweet and you could almost be fooled to think he genuinely cares but you can hear the barely restrained rage bubbling behind his gentle words. You swallow hard and look at him through your lashes, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“It’s nothing, Blue. N-Nothing to worry about.”

His eye twitches, unconvinced by your reassurances. “This doesn’t look like nothing to me. So don’t lie to me,” he hisses, his thumb digging into one of the bruises left on your hip. You try to hold back a cry of pain, instead it comes out as a pitiful whimper. “It’s just- One of the gentlemen was a bit rough tonight,” you answer, still trying to play down what had happened.

“A bit rough?” he repeats with a snarl. Before you can say anything more he grabs you by the hand. “Follow me,” he orders as he drags you out of your room, through the hallway and into his office. Your body is shaking, from the pain you’re in or from fear you can’t tell, stumbling after Blue like a newborn deer.

He pushes you into his office and locks the door behind you. With no way of escape you’re trapped. You don’t dare to look up, fearing any move might be the wrong one with Blue so clearly upset with you. And yet. 

“I’m sorry, Blue. I-I can fix it. I can-”

He shushes you, once again taking your hand, more gently this time. “Come,” he urges you, his voice having lost a bit of its threatening edge. You follow as he leads you through a side door into his private quarters. It’s rare that any of the dancers are let inside this part of Blue’s office. You don’t have enough time to look around as he guides you into what you’d assume is his personal bathroom. It’s lavishly decorated, with a huge clawfoot tub against one side. He leaves you standing in the middle of the room, thoroughly confused by Blue’s actions as he walks over to the tub and begins to fill it with hot water. As the water rises he adds some soap or maybe oil into it, you don’t really watch him, your eyes still trained downwards. But you can smell it: it’s your favorite scent, though you doubt Blue knows that. 

“Don’t just stand there. Strip!”

His order catches you off guard, but like a well-trained dog you immediately comply, shrugging off the thin robe that barely left anything to the imagination. He grabs your chin gently, pulling you up to look at him. His dark eyes look almost gentle as you meet his gaze. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You’re gonna get into this tub and take a nice long bath, alright? And after you’re not gonna tell a soul what happened. Can’t have the others think I’m playing favorites,” he says with a playful grin. You can do nothing but nod, dumbfounded by this whole situation. You thought he would yell at you, maybe even fire you, kick you out onto the streets but instead he offers you a bath. Maybe your customer hit your head and you’re having a hallucination? When you’re not making any effort to get into the tub Blue rolls his eyes and pulls you over to it. 

“Come on, get in! Cold water isn’t gonna help you with those sore muscles, sweetheart.” 

If you didn’t know better you’d think he’s worried about you. After a moment of hesitation your body finally moves again, following his request. Carefully you climb into the tub and sink down into the water. You can’t help but sigh in relief as the steaming water surrounds you, the effect on your battered body almost immediate. Blue chuckles behind you, seemingly amused by your reaction. 

“Feels good?” he asks in a teasing, almost condescending tone. You only hum in response, your body sinking deeper into the soothing water. With the adrenaline of your encounter with your customer and later with Blue slowly fading you can feel how tired you truly are. As you think about how you really shouldn’t fall asleep in a bathtub, especially not Blue’s, your mind is already drifting off.

When your eyes blink open again you’re lying in an unfamiliar bed, some low lights barely illuminating the room around you. You’re still naked but your skin feels slick, like someone overdid it and all but drowned you in lotion. 

“Glad to see you’re awake. Here I thought you were going to steal my bed for the whole night.”

You flinch at Blue’s voice, looking around wildly for the man himself before you find him sitting next to the bed, watching you. Quickly you scramble to get off of his bed but he stops you with a sigh. 

“Now now, calm down. I was just joking.”

With the low light you can’t see his grin but you can hear it. You stop, sitting back down and looking at Blue’s form, barely illuminated by a lamp behind you. 

“I have one more thing to talk to you about before you get back to your room, sweetheart,” he says as he leans forward to look right into your eyes. You swallow hard and nod.

“Very good. Now listen, next time you get an overzealous gentleman like tonight you move your pretty ass right over to me and tell me, got that?” 

His patronizing tone of voice is making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up, yet you don’t know if that’s because you hate it or like it. He looks at you expectantly and once you realize he wants you to show you understand you nod once again, not trusting your voice just yet. 

With a pleased smile he continues: “You see, I can’t have people just break my toys. Especially not pretty ones like you. Only I get to do that.” 

“Y-Yes Blue. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” you answer softly, your voice shaking.

“I know, sweetheart,” he replies before he waves you off, “That’s all. You can go now.”

Seeing that you’re dismissed you hastily make your way out of his bed and leave his quarters without looking back. Who knows what would happen if you lingered.

[annebaby]

small Billy the Kid / Billy Bonney short story! i am a new writer, please be patient with me!

warnings: some drinking, slight body typing, romantic shit, slight reference to sex! besides that, nothing too serious hehe.

i hope you enjoy!

You’ve been singing in bars and honky tonks as soon as you parents were able to get you in. Your pretty blonde hair, striking brown eyes, and feminine body type determined your fame before you even had the training you needed. A new bar every night, new town every few days, it was exhausting in the least.

Every night was the same. This performance was bound to be the same. Singing your song, swaying on the stage, and listening to the men holler was nothing to you. That is, until you laid her eyes on a tall, blue-eyed slender man. His looks were charming, any girl could admit that. His brown button-down, dirty old jeans, decked out gun on his belt, and his ratty old hat all set the scene for a fun night.

As you closed out your song with the ending note, you smiled and blew kisses to the audience.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N. Thank yall for letting me sing out here.”

You picked up your dress and slowly exited the stage, making an A-line straight for the bar. Whiskey was necessary after a performance like that.

“Howdy, just let me grab a shot of whiskey please,” you say. Your voice is almost raspy after your singing.

As you wait for your whiskey shot, you feel a presence approaching behind you. Turning around, you’re met with the piercing blue eyes of the man from the audience. You didn’t realize how large the man truly was until now, standing next to him. He had curly brown hair, icy blue eyes, and he was towering over you.

“Why, hello sir. Whatcha wantin’?” You asked. A smile played on your lips, clearly seductively intrigued by his presence.

He smiled as he looked down, hands fiddling with his belt.

“Well, I was a-hopin’ I could get to know you a little better, ma’am. Your singin’, it was just so heartwarming.”

You laughed. His compliment was heartfelt, truly. It was just his nervousness that made it so unserious. His fiddling, slight blush on his cheeks, it all made him look so adorable.

Suddenly, you seemed to recognize him under all the nervousness.

“Wait, are you the man on all ‘em wanted posters ‘round town? What’re you doing out in the open like this?”

Awaiting his answer, your whiskey shot is slid to you from the other side of the bar. You whisper a slight ‘thanks’ before returning your attention to the outlaw in front of you. You’d never encountered a man like this; a man so wanted, but for all the wrong reasons. He quickly broke your train of thought, carefully trying to answer your question.

“Well, I run with a group o’ guys ‘round here,” he says. He points to a gathering of young men sitting at a table. They’re all snickering and minding their own.

“Them boys ‘ere, they’re like my family. They protect me, I protect them. S’ that answer your question, Ms. Y/LN?”

You didn’t realize how hard you had been staring into his eyes until he stopped talking. Snapping out of your trance, you nodded slightly before taking your shot. Feeling the burn go down your throat was enough to amplify the hidden romanticism of your encounter.

“Now forgive me, but I don’t even know your name honey,” you say. You’re smiling harder than ever, trying to tone it down but you simply can’t.

“It’s Billy, Ms. Y/N. I remembered yours from your performance.”

You looked down at your empty glass and placed it back onto the bar table. Standing out of your seat, you put your hands on your hips.

“Well Billy, are you gonna ask me to dance or are you just gonna keep thinkin’ ‘bout it?”

Billy laughs at your boldness, eying you up and down. You really were beautiful. Your hair flowing down, eyes sparkling in the light, how could he not ask you to dance?

“You’ve read my mind, Y/N.”

Billy takes your hand as you start sloppily dancing on the main floor. Despite all your years in the bars, never had you picked up on how to dance. You’ve tried your best, but it’s always ended in a drunken night and a gnarly hangover the next morning.

“Now, I outta warn you. I ain’t the dancing kind of girl myself. Don’t be surprised if your boots got a few scuffs on ‘em before the end o’ the night,” you say, slightly laughing.

You’re looking down at your feet, trying your best to keep up. Billy then puts his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You gotta look at me, hon. Focusing too much on your feet is gonna make you stumble. Just look at me, and focus on me.”

You smile, slowly feeling his hands return back to your waist. He squeezes you slightly, reassuring you that you’re doing fine. Before you know it, you’re swaying and dancing with Billy easier than ever before.

Looking back up at Billy, you suddenly feel the urge to kiss him. Mentally slapping yourself at the thought, you blush and look away. Billy notices your blush, and matches your exact thought, pushing your face to look at him before he slowly leans in and kisses you.

The kiss is slow and sweet, pure feeling and sincereness laced in its addictive meaning. His lips are plump, and they taste like the sting of cigarette smoke and your lipstick.

He grabs the sides of your face, not allowing you to break free. Your hands grab his hat, pulling it off and onto the floor. You grab the ends of his hair and slightly tug, needing so much more. Billy smiles into the kiss, happy that his need is clearly being reciprocated. He pulls back from the kiss, smiling and looking into your eyes.

You smile back, not entirely sure what had just happened. It wasn’t your first kiss, but you had never had one that full of passion and sincerity. Never had you kissed someone so handsome, so dangerous and wild, and you loved it.

Billy bent down to grab his hat off the floor, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the exit of the bar.

“Need you, now.”

Such a perfect start to a once-in-a-lifetime wild west love.

[hippolotamus]

(Way more than) Seven Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tags @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @tizniz @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @indestructibleheart @steadfastsaturnsrings @elvensorceress @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem I haven’t gotten to all of your snippets but I will and already know they’re amazing and everyone should check them out 💖

Mirrorball (aka pole dancer Buck) won the poll yesterday so here are some sentences from that (prev snippet here) Unsurprisingly, he is producing as many feels (if not more) as I expected. So, uh, sorry about that (but also not sorry at all).

The pole – warmed by the house lights, previous performers, and heat from the three hundred something bodies legally allowed by the fire marshal – presses through his black mesh shirt, around the vegan leather chest harness, finally grazing his spine. He applies more pressure, allowing it to bear more of his weight, raising his arms and caressing the brushed stainless steel like a lover. A gentle touch he’s never experienced but aches with longing for anyway.

Just after the first musical bridge, a series of twangy guitar riffs and soulful keyboard notes, a member of the bachelorette party – maid of honor according to her hot pink sash – approaches the stage. There’s a bit of a wobble to her gait, but she’s still holding her own as she confidently struts forward to offer some bills she not so subtly clenches in her teeth.

If Buck was interested in her, he would make a show of crawling on all fours and take the proffered cash between his lips. But he’s not, so he holds onto the pole as he swings around, dipping low to pluck it from her with his fingers, giving her a wink as he does.

It’s possible she’s familiar with his act because she pouts a bit at that, even as the rest of her group cheers and wolf whistles, tugging up her cutoff short shorts to further reveal the swell of her ass as she flounces back to her seat. As if she’s daring him to reconsider lest he miss out. And maybe he will, if the offer’s still there at the end of his shift and he’s feeling lonely enough.

Buck tucks the money into a hidden pocket between the waistband of his royal blue hotpants and his dance belt. The stuff is loaded with enough germs, he’s not particularly interested in having it touch his sweat beaded skin before redistributing it out in the world.

When he resumes his routine, letting his gaze drift to the back of the room, he works to quickly recover as his breath catches in his throat. Dark eyes suddenly look impossibly darker – hungry and possessive – as lips wrap around the mouth of a beer. It’s tilted back in such a way that they never break eye contact. Maybe it should scare Buck, make him consider asking Bosko or Williams from security to see him to his jeep. But, strangely, it doesn’t.

The opportunity to let that process or sink in passes when his music ends and he begins collecting stray cash that’s been tossed on stage. In the time it takes him to stand back up, and throw a flirty kiss to the audience, he realizes the back table is empty save for a bottle and a chair sitting askew as if the occupant left in a hurry.

No pressure tagging @lizzie-bennetdarcy @disasterbuckdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @shortsighted-owl @stereopticons @911onabc @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buddierights @chaosandwolves @eowon @fionaswhvre @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @messyhairdiaz @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes @statueinthestone @singlethread @the-likesofus @thekristen999 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @underwater-ninja-13 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @weewootruck @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to share 😘

[bitter69uk]

“At four in the afternoon, Elizabeth Taylor sauntered onto the set, followed by her secretary, her hairdresser and her wardrobe mistress. She didn’t look puffy; she wasn’t that short and her eyes really were purple. She was already costumed in the one dress her character wears throughout the movie, a pink, green, yellow, orange and blue print Valentino that more than met the script’s requirement for something “garish and vulgar” and was said to have cost $22,000 including four copies to rotate during shooting. Her hair was teased up and out – the script again – but she still looked beautiful, “really beautiful”, as Andy put it. Her secretary and her hairdresser were a pair of Mediterranean musclemen named Ramon and Gianni, in matching tight white t-shirts and tight white trousers, accessorized with red patent leather belts, shoes and shoulder bags. Every so often between takes Ramon would pull a mirror out of his bag and hold it up in front of Elizabeth’s face; then Gianni would pull a teasing comb out of his bag and hand it to Elizabeth, who would fitfully tease her own hair higher. She looked almost mad when she did that, though one couldn’t be sure if she was just in character or almost mad.” From Bob Colacello’s juicy account of the tempestuous production of Italian-made psychodrama The Driver’s Seat in his book Holy Terror: Andy Warhol Close Up (1990), in which his then-boss – cadaverous pop art visionary Andy Warhol – makes a memorable guest star appearance as “a rich creep of undisclosed nationality and occupation” (dubbed with an incongruous British-accented voice!). The Driver’s Seat (aka Identikit) was released fifty years ago today (20 May 1974) and remains mesmerizingly strange. Suffering whiplash mood swings as a woman with a “date with death”, Taylor gives one of her definitive performances. The Driver’s Seat dates from my favourite Elizabeth Taylor era in the late sixties and early seventies when she was gutsily portraying variations of women-having-a-nervous-meltdown in oddball “failed art movies” (like Boom! (1968), Secret Ceremony (1968) and X, Y and Zee (1972)). Taylor goes full blast cray-cray in The Driver’s Seat and it’s awesome to observe.

[sonic-gallery]

Another World Ogiri November 2023 [What are Knuckles and Sonic doing...? ]

★Example

“You must have been gooey at first!”

Two characters appear every month in surprising outfits and situations! Let's enjoy Ogiri together with illustrations that will make your imagination run wild!

This time, the defender with the proof of victory, Knuckles, the fighting king, takes on the sonic clown, the challenger Sonic! The outcome of the dream match where power and speed collide is...! ?

What kind of lines or narration would you use?

You can style it based on the atmosphere and world view of the two of you in the game, or you can create a bold arrangement! In the example, it seems that Sonic is having trouble with being too free... Even if it's a gleeful joke from such a point of view, it's OK!

Please enjoy it and tweet with the tag "#Isekai Ogiri" on Twitter (X) ♪

We will introduce the good ones in a reply from Sonic's official Twitter (X) account.

We are looking forward to your fun Ogiri posts!

Act11: “An unforgettable rival”

"This belt is just for me! That's right!"

"'Knuckles! Knuckles! Oooooooo!"

Raising his championship belt and roaring towards the audience is Knuckles the Echiduna, the red echidna fighting king. With a large crowd filling the arena, the champion's performance will heat up the venue.

“Ladies & Gentlemen! The long-awaited title match is finally here!”

The robot referee ``Omochao'' also flew around the ring, further enlivening the venue.

"Knuckles, the undefeated absolute defender, will the title be replaced today!? The featured challenger enters! The clown at the speed of sound...Sonic the Hedgehog!"

"Hey! Looks like you're doing well, knucklehead!"

The challenger, a blue hedgehog, appeared illuminated by a spotlight and landed dashingly on top of the corner post.

Sonic, dressed in a colorful clown suit and performing spectacular acrobatics on the spot, greeted Knuckles and the audience with an exaggerated pose and a fearless smile. The audience seats were also excited.

Knuckles says he's a nasty bastard and hits both Kobushi and glares at the challenger...

"Did I meet you somewhere? I don't care, but I don't think you'll be easy on me."

Sonic and Tails trace the source of the energy and arrive at this venue, but they find Knuckles, the "King of Fighters," there.

He also seems to have a Chaos Emerald that has mutated into a "Champion Belt"... but even with that power, there is no sign that he will regain his memories after seeing Sonic and the others.

"Why? There's also a reaction from the Chaos Emeralds."

"He's always been a gullible guy, and the effects of strange things may be strong... Well, just look at him! If you give that stone head a shot, he'll remember it."

...So, Sonic challenged Knuckles to a fight as a "challenger".

"Knuckles! Knuckles!"

The ringside was filled with rumblings as people cheered for Knuckles. Sonic glanced at the crowd waiting anxiously for the gong to start the match, and with light steps that could be seen as a provocation, he closed the distance to Knuckles...

"Whoa, challenger Sonic! What on earth are you planning on doing!?"

He slowly opened his fist and grinned, and countless balls appeared between his fingers. As if by magic, he threw one ball high into the air, and it flew over the corner post of the ring at high speed, demonstrating a spectacular ball juggling act.

The audience held their breath as they watched this unexpectedly high-level performance. Eventually, the balls piled up one after another in front of Knuckles' nose, and...

＜＜Pon! >>

When all the balls popped, Flicky, a blue bird, was perched there, looking around. Knuckles jumps in surprise and Flicky flies away.

“Did you like the little greeting from the newcomer?”

"Y-you bastard...!"

After giving a mischievous wink, Sonic grins again.

Laughter leaked out from the audience seats. Afterwards, a rain of applause showers down on the ring, praising the spectacular performance.

"'Wow, that's amazing!'" "You totally pissed Knuckles off!" "Sonic! Sonic!"

"...Tenmeee!"

Sonic speaks to Knuckles, who is shaking his fists and showing his anger, from atop the ring post.

``I don't dislike the away atmosphere, but I just don't like it when I'm losing to you in the audience.''

Before I knew it, the cheers that had been dominated by the champions had turned into a 50-50 split in just a few seconds. Knuckles is bread! He slaps his cheeks with both hands, burning his fighting spirit towards Sonic.

“We get along well, I was just thinking you wouldn’t like me either!”

"Knuckles! Knuckles!" "Sonic! Sonic!"

"Let's both be in high spirits in the ring and in the audience! Now, let's start the match!"

<<Khan! >>

A gong sounded throughout the venue, signaling the start of the match.

The two stare at each other in the center of the ring. Knuckles keeps his eyes on Sonic as he moves around quickly.

Knuckles judges the timing and hits an accurate and fiery straight, but Sonic narrowly evades him. As for Sonic, he keeps increasing his speed in an attempt to break Knuckles' stance, which he doesn't like...

"Blue Tornado!"

It spins around Knuckles at high speed with a blue afterimage. He creates a powerful tornado and launches Knuckles high into the sky, then launches a zigzag run-up and spin attack!

＜＜Gashi! >>

Everyone expected a clean hit due to the intense sound of the impact, but...

"Shame for you"

Knuckles, who blocked Sonic's attack by sandwiching his fists between his fists, showed his teeth and grinned, then slammed Sonic to the ground with great force.

"Volcanic, dunk!"

<< Zugoon! >>

The explosion and shock that erupts as the bullet hits the ground. Sonic was launched into the air by the recoil, but there was no visible damage, probably because the impact was dispersed by the high-speed spin, and he quickly regained his balance.

“Oraoraoraaaaaah!”

"Hey! I guess I won!"

Knuckles is in hot pursuit and Sonic is dodging him... Red and blue trajectories passing each other in the air engage in a fierce battle.

"S-Great battle Chao!"

"'Wow, that's amazing!'"

Omochao, along with the audience, cries out in surprise as the live commentary can't keep up with the high-level, high-speed battle. Everyone can't help but cry out in the face of this battle.

"Well, you're still as stupid as ever... But it has to be like this!"

A powerful, fearless and worthy adversary. Before Sonic knew it, he found himself in an unusually excited mood during this serious battle with Knuckles, and he couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"You're an angry bastard, but you'll do it! I've been waiting for someone like you!"

And so was Knuckles. My body moved on its own in the face of a sharp onslaught and speed that I should have never experienced before. For some reason, my heart was warmed by a mysterious and nostalgic uplifting spirit.

"(It's still not like this... Give me the best blow to defeat him!)"

That moment when our mutual excitement reached its climax...!

“It’s time to go to the finale!”

"It's top notch!"

In response to the furious kick unleashed from a top-speed sonic spin, the punch of the fist was like an explosion from an active volcano. Their best blows collide with each other.

<<<< Dogaan! ＞＞＞＞

A clean hit to each other's faces...! The two people collapsed at the same time, and the cheers were louder than ever.

"""Ooooo!"" ""Knuckles! Knuckles!"" "Sonic! Sonic!"

"Ryo, both of you are down! Chao counts! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

"Two...."

In the noisy audience, Tails can't help but clench his fists, as if praying, waiting for the two to return.

"I... Tee!!"

"Oh my god! They got up almost at the same time... Ciao~!?"

Wake up at the same time. But Knuckles was the first to speak.

Knuckles ran up to Sonic, not noticing that he had blown up his toychao in the process, and said this while holding his kicked head.

"What are you doing, Sonic! What are you looking like?"

"...Huh? Tails, it happened like you said, right?"

Knuckles was looking at Sonic with a proud face while stroking his cheek where he was punched, but he suddenly remembered something and let out a scream.

"Yes, listen to me! While I was destroying Eggman's factory, I found a strange monster underground!"

Knuckles is pointing under the ring, as if time has stopped and started moving.

"This guy's in the way... Oh!"

A flash of spirit!

<< Zugone! >>

When he swings his fist at his feet, the ring is blown away along with the floor with the impact. After the swirling debris and dust settled, what I saw below was...

It was a large gaping hole that was still collapsing from the inside in a chain reaction into a huge underground space.

The two of them stare at the hole in amazement, ignoring the noisy audience seats. Breaking the silence, Tails's energy detector makes a loud noise.

＜＜Pipipi! Pipipi! >>

At the same time, a heavy tremor erupts from the depths of the earth...! The area around the hole began to collapse, and the venue became noisy.

"It looks like the energy flow is heading deeper into this hole...! We have to hurry!"

"Ah! ...But wait a minute."

Knuckles snatched the microphone from Omochao, who had stumbled back, and called out to the confused audience:

"Hey, you guys! I'm sorry, but I've gotten into a bit of a wild situation! I'm sure you have a lot to say, but please leave this place to me and evacuate!"

After giving a shout, he shoves the microphone at Omochao and forces him to take charge of the evacuation.

“I-I don’t know what it is, but everyone just runs away~!”

"'Knuckles is saying hello! Run!'" "'Ooooooooooo!'" "'Knuckles! Knuckles! ......'"

"Wow... everyone's gone."

Knuckles smiled at Tails, who was overcome with admiration and was stunned, and then turned to face the dark, deep hole he was heading towards and silently looked down at it.

"...It turned into a forfeited match."

Before he knew it, Sonic was standing behind Knuckles, pretending to be disappointed, and laughing.

"Hey! No matter how you look at it, I won, but you can try it again."

“That’s my line!”

With that said, Sonic jumps into the hole first, followed by Tails. Knuckles chased after it and jumped into the hole, smiling wryly and saying,

"We really get along well, don't we?"

"Cognitive frictional energy"

What the three people saw after passing through the hole was an unusual landscape that they had never imagined. A huge, cylindrical, dark underground cavity about 100 meters in diameter and depth...

At its bottom is a huge white parabolic antenna that looks straight up and is exactly the diameter of this cavity, and in the center of it stands a large conical glass tower like a rocket, emitting dazzling light. I was doing it.

"this is......!?"

Sonic grabbed hold of Tails as he flew, and Knuckles used his specialty to glide, observing the strange sight as they slowly and carefully descended.

＜＜Pipipi! Pipipi! >>

As you descend, the unknown energies that are gathering from various otherworldly areas gradually increase in strength. By the time Sonic and his friends descended halfway down the shaft, it had become a visible torrent of countless purple lights.

"Wow, that's amazing...it's similar to the power of the Phantom Ruby though..."

Tails couldn't figure out what this energy was. However, in the midst of this flow, the moment Tails saw visions of different worlds in various places flickering up and down, emitting intense sparks, a great realization came to him.

"I see! I understand!"

Tails was so surprised that Sonic almost threw him off, and the truth he told him was shocking.

Sonic and his friends' "stars" have been forcibly overwritten with their own perception of countless otherworldly images held by various people using the Phantom Ruby weapon. The gap in perception between the star's original reality and this otherworldly reality was putting a strain on the star, causing it to generate a huge amount of energy.

"So...I guess we should call it 'cognitive frictional energy'...Eggman's purpose was to steal this from all over the world!"

Just as Tails finished his explanation, the three of them landed on the plate of the giant parabolic antenna at the bottom of the cavity and looked up in silence.

"Cognitive frictional energy" coming from all over the world is received by this antenna, gently reflected, and collected at the tip of the central glass tower. The energy converged there could be seen to fall intermittently and be stored in the bulge at the base of the tower.

"He's still a top-notch guy when it comes to doing stupid things."

"Yeah. He's the one who walks around with his clothes on."

Sonic and Knuckles are stunned, but can't hide their bitter smiles on the one hand and their irritation on the other.

"Look at the base of the tower! There's so much energy gathering that it's distorting the space around it... It's enough power to destroy this planet four times!"

Tails tells Sonic and the others with a serious expression.

“What should I do?”

"Well, that energy hasn't been activated yet, so if you release it from the fixed field, the star will self-repair and the events will flow backwards..."

"...Tell me so I can understand, Tails!"

“Anyway, I guess it’s okay if we just destroy it.”

"Well, actually, Knuckles is right... Let's destroy that thing, release the energy, and restore the world to normal!"

“Oh, leave it to me!”

Knuckles rolls up his sleeves and heads towards the tower in high spirits. Sonic saw it off with a bitter smile for a while, but...

“Well, this guy has to be like this.”

I looked at his back and nodded with a smile, and followed him in good spirits.

...... Eventually, the three of them arrive at the base of the tower, where countless otherworldly visions flicker around them, and they sigh once again at its majesty.

The light leaking out of the tank-like shape and the image of another world are like the screams of something. The three of them took up their position with Knuckles in the middle, and finally made up their minds.

"It's made of a very strong crystal, but I think Knuckles' power can break it."

"It's nice to have stupid power. You don't have to think about anything."

"At least thank that idiot for today. Let's go!"

Just when Knuckles raised his clenched fist high and was about to swing it down forcefully!

<<Bashuuu>>

The tank glowed exceptionally brightly, emitting a blinding white flash.

"Wow!"

In the next moment, a purple pillar of light several tens of meters in diameter pierced from the tank to the tip of the tower, and from the tip far into the sky.

"W-what is this...!"

In the meantime, only a few seconds. After that, a silent tower and silence reigned over the area. And a loud, familiar voice echoes from the sky...

"Ho, ho, ho! You came all the way to this place, you damn hedgehogs! You had a good sight, but it seems you were a little too late."

"Eggman!?"

Sonic and his friends look at the sky.

``It's true that this situation is the result of my genius plan. This is 'give and take.' In return for delivering a fun parallel world to everyone, I gain enormous amounts of energy and use this most powerful weapon. That doesn't mean it's completed."

"The strongest weapon!? Something that uses that much energy...?"

Perhaps satisfied with Tails's voice, Eggman gets excited and raises his voice.

"If you can stop me, try to stop me. I'll use Kisama and the others as testing grounds for this most powerful weapon and turn them into trash!"

＜＜Gogogogo...! >>

"Wow!"

As the ground rumbles, countless plant branches and roots spring up from under their feet at an abnormal speed, and before they know it, Sonic and his friends are pushed to the ground, along with the parabolic antenna that has turned into a giant flower.

“!?”

"No way...! Are you creating a different world locally?"

“It’s a mess!”

When they returned to the ground, they found a scene that looked like a hybrid of a chemical plant that had been converted into an energy facility and a sinister plant, and...and then...the ground trembled behind the three of them. When they turned around, they saw a purple-golden giant towering over them.

"This is Eggman's ultimate weapon...!?"

The curtain of a terrible battle was about to be cut off.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Blue Jones NSFW Alphabet

A = After (what they’re like after sex)

He sucks at aftercare. He needs aftercare. Tell him he's done well, help him clean up and snuggle him. Hold him, rock him to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself it is of course his cock, guy is hung and he is so fucking proud of it.

On you, your tits and your ass, because he is a letch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn't cum very much, but has a very short refractory period. Loves to see you swallow, but loves it more to watch it drip from your pussy/ass.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is a major exhibitionist. He fantasizes fucking you on stage, in front of a big, awed audience.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced, with a lot of diverse kinks, might even had some bisexual encounters under his belt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Girls on top, hands down. He loves seeing your boobs bounce and let you do all the heavy lifting.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to deflect your assertion by joking sometimes, but it never lasts long, because he craves it so much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's quite well groomed, actually, keeping the top trimmed and the balls shaved.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He'll pretend not to give a shit about romance and gentler aspects of your sexlife, but it is all a lie. He adores it when you are not just sexually intimate, but also romantic. He needs your affection like he needs oxigen.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Daily, at least three times. Especially when watching the girls perform. Guy just is horny all the time.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

FemDom, Edging, voyeurism, orgasm denial, masochism, humiliation and body worship (giving).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office, the bedroom, the hot tub and his personal seat in the club.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's easier to ask what does not turn him on. All you have to do is be near him. Or when he is on stage, or when he is bossing the girls around. He's always turned on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pegging, bodily waste and daddy (tho he pretends that isn't the case)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

BOTH. He loves getting head and he adores eating muff. He is fucking good at eating puss too, especially when you praise him!!!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If he is left in charge, he will be fast and rought, too greedy to calm it down, but if you take charge, he loves it slow, with looots of edging.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! All you have to do is say the word and he is throbbing and ready for you!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You know he will not knock anything he has not tried yet, man's read the kama sutra and stuff. He is very risk taking in every aspect of his life, so also between the sheets.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for five round in a good long session. He usually lasts average, but with edging, he does very well in endurance, too.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh he wants to use a lot of toys on you, but you usually have him deep in subspace before the can really get the chance to. There are times, when he has behaved himself exceptionally well for a full week, he's allowed to use your magic wand to drive you into absolute overstim.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He thinks he wants to tease you, but this never pays off well for him. He looooooves it when you tease him, though. Rile him up, draw it out, make him lose his mind!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh you know he is loud! He moans and whines like an absolute pornstar. And he cannot shut up. Constant begging and dirty talk.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Blue really really wants to be dommed, but there is always his ego that needs to be broken down first, every single session. He will never grow into it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He has an oddly graceful cock. He's cut, quite thick and proportionally long. He's quite veiny, but it fits him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Resting Mood: Horny!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He zonks off right away, sessions take a lot of him emotionally and he has been on his feet most of the night, he needs his beauty nap.

[a-forbidden-detective]

Karaoke love

This is written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF238 Take my hand and for @fluffbruary February 2 prompt : engagement | scent | jam

—

Beware of manga spoilers for the latest chapter. This is exactly 1000 words. I was totally into it at the end. I hope the ending makes sense. Heh!

Toto takes a shot from his whiskey glass, easing himself up. It’s his turn to sing. The screen monitor shows the song that he’s chosen awhile back. The truth is his singing is only confined to the four corners of the flat and his shower cabin in Asakusa.

Ron mentioned once that his love for singing in the shower is one of the rare times when Toto lets himself go apart from his innate resoluteness. But come to think of it, Ron didn’t say much about the quality of his singing voice, Toto has only been just self-conscious ever since that incident that he never sings anymore whenever he stays at Ron’s apartment.

Who suggested going to the karaoke bar anyway? Ah, it was Kawasemi-san. Today is the last day that he’s going to be in town and coincidentally his birthday that for all intents and purposes, Dr. Mofu asked him what else he wanted to do in Tokyo before going back to Aichi.

They rent a private room at the Karaoke Kan in Shibuya. The shop became famous when it was featured in a Western film in the early 2000s about two Americans, who found each other amidst the backdrop very alien to them: from food to cultural references. The premises have become a Mecca for tourists.

The whole gang is here. Amamiya, who tags along these days, and Dr. Mofu didn’t have the time when they went to Kamakura for sightseeing two days ago. So, they made sure that they were present this time around before sending Kawasemi-kun back to Nagoya. The only one who’s missing is Spitz, who cannot leave London at the moment and is disgruntled with a dash of envy in his body when he finds out their plans.

“Ack, Tototo! I am going to miss your performance. Ron-kun says that he has a rock ‘n’ roll singer living in his house.” Toto laughed when he heard this.

Should Toto stand up?

An arm gathers around him, as if grounding him. While the hand holds his shoulder, firm and yet tender. Toto turns to his left; Ron’s blue eyes confront him. Relax.

“Y-yeah…” Toto has calmed down a bit.

The first notes of a raunchy electric guitar surge, he poses to belt out the text that flashes on the screen.

“I'm an alligator/ I'm a mama-papa comin' for you / I'm the space invader / I'll be a rock 'n' rollin' bitch for you / Keep your mouth shut … Keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe … Press your space face close to mine, love / Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah!”

His friends are fired up, hooting at the way Toto playfully sings a David Bowie song. Chikori-kun’s admiration skyrockets to 200 per cent. Her eyes scream of glowing stars. Kawasemi kun sings along. He knows it by heart and has been a Bowie fan. He’s so glad that Toto made a little research about him. Dr. Mofu’s face breaks into a giggle as she stops conversing with Amamiya, who cannot stop smiling. Toto, gyrating before her very eyes, has transformed into another person. And Ron? He’s looking at Toto with his hungry eyes, his hands won’t stop rubbing his thighs clothed in loose jeans. He then places his right hand into his pocket and reaches for a small box inside, feeling glad that he hasn’t lost the engagement ring.

You deserve all the good things in the world, Toto!

As the Tokyo police officer hits the end notes, Toto bows to the delight of his friends clapping and whistling on his way.

“Thank you so much!”

Ron hands him a glass of water and half-hugs him when he’s already seated.

“You did well, Toto!”

Toto mouths his thanks as he downs another glass when the next song starts to play. Chikori kun can’t stop herself from gushing when he notices that Ron stands up.

Oh, he’s next. Toto is darn curious now. He knows that Ron can sing really well as expected of him.

“Wise men say / Only fools rush in / But I can't help falling in love with you / Shall I stay? / Would it be a sin / If I can't help falling in love with you?”

All of a sudden, the whole room turns quiet. No one claps, nor whistles. As if a magician does his trick enchanting the audience. Everyone is glued watching Ron does his interpretation of a popular Elvis Presley song.

Toto is fastened on his seat, mouth agape. Ron is looking at him, his intentions are clear. His heart beats faster, aware of his surroundings and the four sets of eyes that are focused on them.

“Take my hand / Take my whole life, too / For I can't help falling in love with you…”

Ron sits next to Toto and seizes his hand. He begins to speak.

“I am glad that our friends are here to give me support and witness the promise I will say here today. Too bad that Spitz isn’t around but he already knows my plans.”

Toto’s face is red now not because of the alcohol but specifically because of Ron, who is in front of him, who is now removing an object from his pocket.

“Toto, I know that it is all so sudden. But, after all the things that happened between us, I believe that there is an understanding that we can’t live without each other and instead prepare to die together if we are faced with a choice, are you willing to be my partner for life? Will you marry me?”

Toto’s mouth quiver, why hasn’t he never thought that this day will come? Ah, that’s why he can never be as good as Ron when it comes to sleuthing.

He then grabs Ron’s face and in front of everyone kisses Ron, his fiancé. Without remorse nor embarrassment while their friends say their congratulations.

“Yes!”

~ fin ~