#and that allows me to maintain a good warm pace for when i go into sprint mode and that's when i really shine creatively

[faithfromanewperspective]

still not convinced that anyone ever defined these 'great things' so i'm going to. defining them as whatever i am currently doing

what's wrong babe you've barely touched your potential even though all your elementary teachers really liked you and said you were gifted and that you were going to do great things

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 4

4th — cockwarming, Max Verstappen

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: You are an actress and have been in a relationship with Max for a while. You have been trying to learn all your lines in the upcoming movie, and since this time of the year is off-time, which means no racing for a few weeks for Max, he volunteered to help you remember your lines and practice it with you. 

You and Max sat on the couch together in their comfortable living room. Max had a script in his hand, and the other one was in yours. "Okay, ready to start?" Max asked, a slight smile on his face. You nodded, a look of determination on your face. "Ready as I'll ever be," you replied. Max chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll help you remember your lines. You've got this."

Sometimes you would stumble over a word or phrase, but Max was there to help you through it. He would gently correct or repeat the line if you forgot it completely. "Schatz, there’s another fun way to rehearse all these lines, and you can even memorise it faster. Take a break and meet me in the office.” 

Max's proposal piqued your interest and curiosity. You couldn't help but wonder what new method he had in mind to help you remember your lines more effectively.

With a nod, you got up from the couch and headed towards the office. You found Max already there, waiting for you.

He waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. 

“What are we doing? I thought you would help me with the script.” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

You can feel Max fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your dress.

“I’m helping you to study it better with some motivation.” He whispered to your ears. 

You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Max adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Max guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Max grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl while learning, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Maxie .”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Max’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

He grunts softly as you shift a little, and he kisses your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin. Max's trying to distract himself by reading the script. "Act 1, Scene 1... Oh, god, you're getting wetter, aren't you?" 

​​He starts moving his hips slowly, pushing himself in and out of you, his thick length stretching you open with each movement. He keeps his hand on your hip, holding you in place as he sets a slow, steady pace. "Focus, baby... Focus on the script..."

Max thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “Uh … Oh, a chapel. Do…Do you think dad will be able to cross the threshold,” you try to read the line outloud. 

“You are doing great, Schatzi. Can you go on.”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Max’s thigh out of sight. 

Max's breath hitches slightly at your touch, but he keeps his face neutral, continuing with the script. "That’s a good question…" He punctuates each phrase with a measured thrust, maintaining the facade of simply coaching you through the scene. His voice grows huskier.

You begin to feel restless on Max’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end your learning session, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move. Max's intense gaze bores into you as he slowly trails a finger along your jawline. 

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.” “Then move.”

With his permission, Max's hands move to your backside, gripping firmly as he helps guide your movements. His hips thrust up to meet yours, the two of you finding a rhythm together. The sound of your labored breaths and wet, slapping bodies fills the room, the script is long forgotten on the desk.

Taglist: @formula1-motogpfan @iamafootballfanmiasanmia @arian-directioner @annimausi @mythicalmaven @lucycowr @hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119 @mythicalmaven

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day one ⛧ cockwarming

Cillian Murphy x Reader

A routine Zoom call between you, Cillian, and his parents gets a little interesting.

warnings: smut, cockwarming, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, milking, unprotected sex

word count: 930

author's note: welcome to day one of kinktober! I'm so excited for this year and can't wait to write as much for this challenge as possible. I was going to have weeks planned out, but fell ill with pneumonia, so I'm two whole weeks behind. hopefully I'll complete the challenge! fingers crossed. if I don't, there's always next year! I hope everyone enjoys!! feedback is always appreciated (: (keep in mind most of the kinktober works will be short.)

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

When Cillian tells you to pull up your dress upon entering his office, you expect him to drop to his knees before you. Instead, he waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. You can feel Cillian fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your lifted dress. You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Cillian adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Cillian guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Cillian grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“What are you doing?” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Cill.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You shiver at his words as you watch him fiddle with his computer, opening Zoom. You gulp nervously and hope he isn’t about to have a sort of meeting while you’re warming his cock. You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Cillian’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

But something even worse happens- Cillian opens Zoom with his parents. You forgot it’s Sunday, which is the day he usually calls them. You gulp down your nervousness, trying to appear presentable.

“Oh, hi!” you grin at the sight of his mother popping up on the screen, trying not to react to how Cillian’s fingernails are digging into the delicate skin of where your hips meet your thighs.

“How are you, darling?” his mother asks sweetly.

Cillian thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “I’m well, thanks! And you?”

“Oh, we’re just fine,” CIllian’s father chimes in, “Taking good care of my son, I see?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Cillian’s thigh out of sight, “He’s being a good boy as always.” you joke.

Cillian rolls his hips slowly, causing your hand to pause its movements and your nails to dig into his slacks. He then engages in conversation with his father as you maintain a healthy combo of eye contact with his parents and looking at Cillian behind you.

“Are you sitting on his lap, dear? Are there no chairs in his office?” Cillian’s mom asks out of the blue, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Still no extra chairs or furniture in here,” you poke Cillian’s cheek, “I’ve been telling him ever since we moved in, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Stubborn old thing,” his mother scolds playfully, “A new home needs its furniture!”

You begin to feel restless on Cillian’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end the call, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move.

“Well, we were just checking in to see how you were doing. We best be headed off now; love you,” Cillian waves to his parents.

They wave back, bidding farewells before Cillian ends the call. Silence fills the room, and all that can be properly heard is the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.”

“Then move.”

You shakily raise your hips until Cillian is almost outside you before slamming back down, your thighs hitting his. He lets out a strangled moan, hands gripping your sides tightly. 

“I’ve been wanting to teach you a lesson,” Cillian says through gritted teeth, letting you slowly lift and lower yourself along his cock, “About patience.”

“Lesson learned, then,” you sigh, spinning around to face Cillian, “I hear you loud and clear.”

You grab his cheeks as you pick up your pace of bouncing on his length, gaining a nice and steady rhythm. Cillian looks at you with glazed-over eyes, his tongue darting from his mouth to run over his lips. 

“Was the lesson worth it? Or was the patience killing you more than me?” you smirk.

“I'm not sure. There were times I wanted to take you over the desk on the call.”

“Really?” you wonder, “Maybe next time.”

“Not when on the phone, though,” Cillian warns.

“Alright,” you sigh, swiveling your hips around as your orgasm creeps into your stomach.

“Gonna cum,” Cillian mumbles lazily, thrusting himself into you in time with your movements.

“Please do, I’ve been waiting,” you pout.

Cillian twitches inside you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt as you ride through your own impending release. Cillian lets you fuck yourself as much as you please despite his overstimulation, letting you milk him as your walls clench from your orgasm. You stop moving, catching your breath as Cillian watches you compose yourself.

“Definitely worth the wait,” you gasp, pushing hair from your face.

“Agreed,” Cillian exhales, leaning back in his chair.

“Can I stay here, though?” 

“On me?”

“Yes.”

Cillian pauses, weighing the pros and cons of you warming him as he does some emailing, “Fine.”

taglist:

@cillianswifefr @ins0mniac-whack @multifans-things @no-fooking-fighting @mypoisonedvine @madnessandobsession @Daviddeu @tiredkitten @lolabunny222 @gimmefood @preparedfruit @thecherrycocktail @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @lilyembry @scarlettlight06 @Gramelda @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @dunklerkeks1611 @reggxe-a @aviamulier @berlyrecords @dorknerdbeautiful @scribbuluswrites @ecstaticforus @vampireluck @doitmour1r @sharrren @desert-springtime @tuffy-floral @hllywdwhre @Death-by-bowie47 @moompie-blog @langdons-slut @cillymyfavdilf @generalvoidthing @luna047 @mg-i-have-issues @darlingsfandom @devotedly-sassy @banshailey @notevenellastein @cillsmurphys @ch3rry-co1a @elegantfacetree @ilikefictionalmen @juleshadalittlelamb @madnessandobsession @ceirinen @treac @Vrfilms @cillian-murph @sstar_ggirl @ecstaticforus @flwrs4aust

(if you signed up to be on the taglist and do not see your name, your tag failed or you may have typed the wrong url.)

[soluswalking]

Milker (Wanda Maximoff X Fem!Reader)

Warnings: smut, lactation kink, dub-conish, praise kink, minors DNI (let me know if there’s more)

Summary: you wake strapped to your bed and tubes on your...

Милая = darling

__________

DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU ARE A MINOR

For months you’ve been bound by her magic, confined permanently to her side in an effort for her to create her perfect reality with you by her side. No, you weren’t her’s. You came from another universe distant from hers where your Wanda had perished in a horrific accident which you would later find out was orchestrated by the Wanda before you. 

This Wanda, from whatever universe she originated from, wanted you. 

“Mилая…” she whispered as her long, deft fingers ran along your jawline. You stirred awake to find yourself confined once more. This time tubes were suctioned to your nipples as a warm, milky white liquid left the tubes and into a glass cup not too far from where you’re strapped down. 

Upon instinct you thrashed wildly. 

Yet, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your attempts would be futile. 

A whine escaped your lips making the Scarlet Witch’s lips twitched into a smile. “There, there, милая. No need to struggle. See? The process is painless.” She remarked with her fingers lightly flicking the tube. 

“L-let me go…” You pleaded. 

Eyebrows twitched up in amusement.  “Oh?” She mocked. Her finger that rested on your jaw trailed down your body, sending shivers in its wake before her hand rested over your clothed sex. She brought her lips close to your ear. “I don’t think so, Милая.” 

Her thumb rubbed your slit through your clothing, making your squirm. Your body practically responded on its own. Hips thrusted for her touch, searching and yearning for more. “W-Wanda please…” 

She hummed in approval especially as more liquid seemed to seep from your breasts and into the pump. So she slipped her fingers through your waistband and under your panties before finding your slicked sex. “I love how wet you are for me, Милая.” 

She won. You know that.

“Please…” You begged pathetically. 

Wanda placed a kiss on your cheek. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, my love.” Her pointer and middle finger slipped into your digits. “Hmmm…that’s my good girl.” Her praise caused you to clench around her fingers and without wasting another second, her fingers began thrusting rapidly into you. 

“Scream for me, Милая. I want the universe to know who you belong to…” She growled lowly into your ear. Her pace was ungodly. If you weren’t strapped down to the bed, you most likely would’ve fell off. 

“W-Wanda…I-I’m gonna c-c…” The words don’t escape your lips in time. Wanda sensed what was about to happen as she wrapped an arm around your body to keep you from convulsing wildly that you hurt yourself. “Cum for me…”

A wave of pleasure exploded from your core through your entire body as you cried out her name in a mantra. Your legs shook with fury.

But even as you orgasmed wildly, Wanda’s eyes trailed to your nipples watching as more of that sweet liquid left. 

When you finally stopped shaking, Wanda flicked her wrist, removing the restraints from your arms and legs and the tubes from your breasts, allowing you to collapse completely on the bed. You were too tired to move, to even process what was going on around you. 

Wanda’s fingers that tapped your cheek forces your eyes to open slightly. “You did wonderful, my love.” She smirked. In her hand you could see a glass filled three quarts of the way with white liquid. 

She began chugging the liquid, making sure to maintain eye contact with you, and you watched as she eagerly drank up every last drop. 

“Delicious…” Leaning down, she pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead all before she bean dipped you which caused you to yelp. “Rest, my love. I expect more for dinner.”

__________

Thanks for reading! This was not proofread at all so excuse me for the errors and if this doesn't make sense in the morning. i was drunk writing this

[misswynters]

Gym Confession

tom taylor x gn! reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: the fic i’m writing for aeron/benji/reader is taking forever so here’s another one!@benjicotblckwood

The early morning sun peeked through the windows of the gym, casting a warm glow on the equipment. You and Tom Taylor had made it a habit to work out together whenever your schedules allowed. Today was one of those rare days where neither of you had any pressing commitments, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tom was already at the gym when you arrived, warming up with some stretches. He flashed you a bright smile as you approached. "Hey! Ready to get started?"

"Absolutely," you replied, returning his smile. "What's the plan for today?"

He glanced at his phone, where he'd made a rough outline of the workout. "I was thinking we could start with some cardio, then move on to strength training. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. Working out with Tom was always fun; his enthusiasm and positive energy were contagious.

You both hopped on adjacent treadmills and began your warm-up. As the treadmills hummed beneath you, Tom started to talk about his latest project. "So, we've just wrapped up filming, and I think this one's going to be really special. The script was incredible, and the cast was amazing."

"That's great to hear," you said, slightly breathless as you picked up the pace. "I can't wait to see it. You're always so passionate about your work."

Tom grinned, clearly pleased. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."

After the cardio session, you moved on to the weight machines. Tom adjusted the settings on one of the machines and gestured for you to take the first turn. "How about we start with some leg presses?"

You nodded, positioning yourself on the machine. As you began your set, Tom stood by, offering encouragement. "You've got this. Keep your back straight and push through your heels."

His supportive words and watchful eye helped you maintain proper form, and before you knew it, you'd finished your set. Tom took his turn next, and you returned the favor, cheering him on.

"Come on, Tom! You make this look easy," you teased, watching as he effortlessly completed his reps.

He laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Don't be fooled. I'm working hard here."

The two of you moved through the rest of your workout, alternating between different exercises and machines. Between sets, you chatted about everything from favorite movies to weekend plans, the conversation flowing naturally and easily.

As the session drew to a close, you both found yourselves at the stretching area, cooling down with some light stretches. Tom reached over and handed you a bottle of water. "Here, you need to stay hydrated."

"Thanks," you said, taking a grateful sip. "I think that was one of our best workouts yet."

"I agree," Tom said, his eyes meeting yours with a warm, genuine expression. "I always look forward to these sessions. It's nice to have a workout partner who pushes me and keeps things fun."

"Right back at you," you replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie and appreciation. "You make it so much easier to stay motivated."

As you both finished your stretches, Tom glanced at his watch. "Hey, I've got a bit of time before my next appointment. How about we grab a smoothie or something?"

"That sounds great," you said, smiling. "I know just the place."

You both headed out of the gym, the sun now higher in the sky, promising a beautiful day ahead. The nearby smoothie bar was a favorite of yours, known for its delicious and healthy options. As you walked, Tom fell into step beside you, the easy conversation continuing.

When you reached the smoothie bar, you both ordered your favorites and found a table by the window. As you sipped your drinks, Tom leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face.

"Days like this are the best," he said, his eyes reflecting a sense of peace. "Good workout, good company, and a great smoothie to top it off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a similar sense of satisfaction. "Couldn't agree more. It's nice to take a break and enjoy the little things."

Tom's gaze softened as he looked at you, his smile gentle. "You know, I'm really glad we do this. It means a lot to have you as a friend and workout partner."

"Same here," you replied, your heart warming at his words. "Here's to many more workouts and smoothies together."

Tom raised his smoothie cup in a mock toast, and you clinked yours against it, both of you laughing. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the special bond you shared, built on mutual respect, support, and genuine friendship.

As you finished your drinks and prepared to head your separate ways, you couldn't help but notice the way Tom's eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual. There was something in his gaze, a hint of unspoken tension that hadn't been there before.

Later that week, you and Tom found yourselves at the gym again, ready for another workout. This time, there was a slight awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you had addressed yet.

Tom adjusted the settings on the bench press, his movements more deliberate than usual. "Let's start with this today."

You nodded, sensing the change in his demeanor. As you took your turn on the bench press, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When it was his turn, you stood by, offering the same encouragement he always gave you.

"Come on, lord of the north. You got this," you said, trying to keep the tone light.

He managed a small smile but didn't respond with his usual banter. Instead, he focused on his reps, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing moment.

After finishing the set, Tom sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead. He glanced at you, his expression conflicted. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

You felt a knot form in your stomach. "Okay. What's going on?"

Tom took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I... I've been feeling something more than just friendship between us. And I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we have. But it's getting harder to ignore."

Your heart raced, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. You had always valued your friendship with Tom, but now you were forced to confront feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"I don't want to ruin what we have either," you said softly. "But I can't deny that there's something there."

Tom's eyes softened, relief washing over his features. "So, what do we do?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I think we need to be honest with each other. We can take things slow and see where it goes. But whatever happens, I don't want to lose our friendship."

Tom nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "I can agree to that. Slow and honest."

The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a sense of anticipation and curiosity about what the future might hold. As you continued your workout, the unspoken understanding between you added a new layer to your interactions.

Later, as you cooled down with some light stretches, Tom reached over and gently squeezed your hand. "Thanks for being honest with me. It means a lot."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of connection that was deeper than ever. "Thank you for bringing it up. I'm glad we talked about it."

As you both left the gym and headed to the smoothie bar once again, the conversation flowed more easily. There was still a lot to figure out, but you knew that with honesty and openness, you could navigate this new phase of your relationship together. Sitting at the same table by the window, sipping your smoothies, you felt a renewed sense of optimism.

[spicyclover]

In a haze

Summary : In the car, there are millions of thoughts that pass one after the other. The brain accumulates and releases at hundredths of a second all the information we need to be good drivers. However, sometimes it happens that the information never comes back and we are lost in this infinite mist.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING : mention of crash | lose of consciousness

The humidity is at its peak. Singapore is really one of the most physical races. The overwhelming and stifling heat prevents the brain from accumulating air properly. I already regret leaving the refrigerated hospitality to join the garage. I meet some fans on my way and I stop to take some pictures.

I am quickly escorted out of the crowd. I run to join the others to start the parade. I regroup with the two Ferraris and Max who discuss qualifications. I am P8. I could have had more, but a moment of distraction made me lose seconds in a corner. I smile at Charles and shake Carlos’s hand. I'm sweating in my team gear, it's really the worst. The Ferraris boys are not better, Charles is red as a tomato and Carlos look like he's going faint any second.

In the distance, I see Daniel. He is in a corner, his headphones on his ears. He has his face of concentration. He's cute, makes him look more serious. Since the beginning of the year, he hasn’t smiled as much. He’s not the same as before. He gradually realizes that his days are numbered in this sport and it scares him. I understand that feeling. I am the only woman on the grid and at my first mistake, I have a horde of men wanting to replace me with their macho and sexist criticism. Daniel raises his head and crosses my eyes. A smile expands on my lips and he seems to relax.

With the parade over, I return to the garage for the final preparations. I visualize the race in my head. I review the turns, the areas of acceleration, the areas of deceleration. I calculate the pressure of my tires and I look at the temperature one last time during the race. Filling my brain with all this information helps me not to be overwhelmed by pressure. I relativize and focus on the fact by what can happen.

It’s already time to get in the car. As always, the pressure goes up and I feel like my head is going to explode. I get in the car. I put my helmet on. When the helmet goes on my head, I no longer calculate what’s around me. Everything around me gets foggy and only my car counts. I hear my engineer in my ear and listen to the instructions.

The journalists and the teams leave the track. The crowd is on fire. I allow myself to look around. Oscar is on my right at P7. Lando is P6 ahead of me. Behind me is Daniel P10. The light turns red and the formation round begins. Max starts the pace. I warm up my tires and check my brakes one last time. I barely have time to think that the finish line is in front of me again. I install the single-seater in my starting lines and I prepare myself.

One. My pulse begin to quicken. Two. I'll move faster and faster, the fan roaring beside me. Three. My thoughts begin to wash away in a cloud of wind and dust. Four. The crowd thunders. Five.

My hands release the brake and I press the accelerator. The first corner comes quickly. I find my line among all the cars and I concentrate. The first few cars slow down and I’m right behind. I start turning the wheel. The next few seconds freeze in time. My brain tries to interpret what is happening before my eyes, but I can’t. I feel the back of my car rising in the air. In a straight perpendicular line, all I see is black and white asphalt. I let go of the steering wheel and the barrels start. My body is wandered from left to right in the car and I try to maintain myself. All this happens in seconds before I crash into the security fence.

I hear his laugh. I look up and he is in front of me, his smile bigger than the sun. I chuckle before I tongue him. I get up and start running to the ocean. He rushes after me. I peek behind me and he’s already behind.

"It’s not fair," I said, with a sulky pout. "You’re faster than me." He grabs my face in his gigantic hands and kisses me. I try to resist, but these kisses are magical that I can’t keep acting. I surrender to these lips.

"I am a high performance athlete, athletes speed." I laugh and I push him away a little. He loses balance and leads me to his fall. The fine sand is quickly encountered and my eyes get lost in his. I remove some rebellious streaks from his face. He meddles his fingers between my hair and he passes them behind my ears. "You’re beautiful." I pouffe before I kiss his lips again to silence him.

I’m back in the car. I fainted. Oh no, I lost consciousness. My vision is blurry and my ears are ringing. I try to straighten my head to look around, but I can’t. I feel like my heart is in my brain. It’s pounding and I can barely breathe. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I can’t react. Gradually my vision darkened again.

"I don’t want us to hide anymore," whispers Daniel.

The night is cool and we’re in our hotel room in Los Angeles. This is the first time that we meet after weeks of meeting at the bend of an evening or a race. We have been living in this secret relationship for a few months now and I must admit that it is happiness. I like to find it even for a few moments, but it is true that with each separation, they become harder. I smile as I relax my head.

"We have no choice." I say, slowly fading away in my sleep.

And it’s true, we are stuck in this spiral of PR. Being the only woman on the track, I have to be attractive to the male fans. A girl in a relationship is not interesting. I hate every day since this phrase came out of my manager’s mouth. What do I give a shit about male fans? I’m not there for them, or thanks to them. I long to make a big finger in all this, but the more I think about the consequence and the more it scares me.

I am transported out of my car, I distinguish the lights of paramedics who check the dilation of my pupils. I blink and red and white flashes pass in front of my eyes. The ambulance. My helmet was removed. I don’t remember much. They talk to me, but I can’t tell the words. Everything is confusing. Yet, this hand I know. It’s his. Daniel. My eyes are frantically searching around me and I finally see him. He too has crashed. I don’t have time to think more than the paramedic pulls it out of my hand and takes me in the ambulance to the nearest hospital.

The hours that follow are a perpetual blur. I get lost in the dozens of exams and questions I am asked. I answer as best I can, but I get tired and I ask him to be beside me. I whisper his name between my lips. Many hours have passed. My senses come back little by little and I hear again the noises that surround me. I hear the beep of the machines, I hear the nurses who pass by the door of my room. I hear the television on, but I can’t understand the words. Most importantly, I hear his voice. He’s there with me. I painfully open my eyes. In the first place, everything is blurred. I can only see the light, but very quickly my vision clears and I can look at his face.

"I am so sorry, my love. I am terribly sorry." He whispers repeatedly, my hand in his.

"Hey, stranger." I say in a hoarse voice. I feel like I’ve been smoking for forty years with that voice.

"Y/n!" He cries while looking up. "You are awake."

"You didn’t think you’d get rid of me like that." I said with a laugh. I try to move to get up, but my body hurts. I moan and Daniel looks at me worried. "What happened?"

"We crashed into each other… I ran into you by accident. The car behind me didn’t brake and I was right in your corner. You rolled, I thought I’d lose you." He chokes a sob before he takes over." You landed in the safety gate and the race was paused for a long time. I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing if you were okay." He caresses my hair tenderly. I feel the pain in his voice and it hurts me.

"You disqualified yourself for me?"

"For you? Always." I smile and reach for him. I grab the top of his neck and our lips meet. Our kiss lasts a few minutes. We enjoy the present moment and the presence of the other. "Just to let you know, but I may have told everyone about our relationship and the media is crazy about it."

"What?" I write to myself as I step aside. What did he do? He didn’t… Oh no!

"We’ll talk later." He kisses me again with a smile. "You need to rest and heal."

"Dan…" I try to argue, but he won’t let me continue.

[littlemissthunderstorms]

sticky keys

sub!alex (humbug) x soft!dom reader

based off of this request!! i loved this one, so i hope this lives up to it. enjoooy

(also i had no idea what to do for the title, so i just chose a lyric from my propeller and i think it’s a tiny bit stupid but it’ll do 🤷‍♀️)

———

you sat your book down on the nightstand, absolutely exhausted. getting up, you clicked off the various lamps around the room, only leaving the small one on the nightstand on. the warm light cast a soft glow throughout the room, making you even more incredibly tired, evoking a sleepy yawn from you.

your gaze redirected to the door as you lay back down, smiling at alex now in his pjs. he quickly scrambled to your side, laying next to you. unlike you, he seemed much too energetic for the late hour. the boy leaned over, cradling your face with both of his hands. he kissed you fervently, surprising you a bit when he slid his warm tongue against yours.

he pulled away, and you were about to wish him a good night when his kisses traveled down your neck, becoming open mouthed and messy. his warm hand traveled underneath your shirt, grasping and massaging the skin at your waist. you tugged on his hair a bit so he would look at you. your heart fluttered a bit at how soft his brown eyes looked, seeming to twinkle in the lamp light.

“love, not tonight,” you told him, caressing his cheek with your hand. you knew he wanted you, and you felt bad for denying him, he looked so desperate, but you promised yourself you would make it up to him in the morning.

alex pouted. “please? i’ve been thinking about you all day momma,” he pleaded. you sighed, “i’m exhausted alex.” he frowned once more, hands still traveling under your shirt as he rested his face in between your breasts, gazing up at you with eager, adoring brown eyes.

“cmon sweetheart, lets go to sleep,” you tucked a stray hair behind his ear. he kissed your shoulder, leaving a little love bite. “it’ll be quick, please i’ll be so so good for you.” he practically pleaded.

you gazed at him for a bit, thinking while you ran your fingers through his long hair. “fine. use me as you like.” he looked confused, expecting you to ride him, he didn’t expect this. you raised your eyebrows. “cmon, it’s what you wanted wasn’t it?” he opened his mouth, about to speak when he decided it was for the better to stay quiet and do what he was told.

he quickly shuffled off of you. you let him take your panties off, lifting your hips to help him. he got up again, taking his clothes off with an adorable amount of eagerness.

you adjusted so you were fully laying down, closing your tired eyes for a moment before reopening them to see alex positioned atop your thighs. he wasn’t at all used to being on top, since you were usually the one in control.

giving his cock a few strokes, he positioned his tip at your entrance, pushing in each inch slowly and cautiously as to get you accustomed to his size. you let out a soft sigh whilst alex whimpered, now buried inside of you.

unsure of the position, he slowly bucked his hips forward, his hands falling to the mattress on either side of you. you spread your thighs wider to give him more room, holding his waist a bit as to help him maintain some balance.

gasping, the boy started pumping his cock in and out of you at a slow pace, dirty whimpers falling from his lips. “that’s it honey.” you flashed him a sleepy smile, brushing a lock out of his eyes. he moaned at your words, already noisy despite only being in you for a mere 15 seconds.

you hummed, closing your eyes and basking in the way he filled you up, how good it felt. you weren’t very wet to start with from the lack of foreplay, but now, obscene noises filled the air from your arousal, his small moans and sputters only making you wetter.

eventually, his pace quickened, breathy moans filling the air. you allowed yourself to lay there and relax, a soft moan escaping your mouth every now and then. alex struggled with the position, his arms growing weak, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

he reveled in how tight you were, how warm and wet you were around him. although he knew you were exhausted, he still wanted to make you feel good. you noticed how his eyes frequently darted to yours, how he made sure you were feeling good. “is that good momma?” he asked, needing your approval.

“so good baby,” you smiled. he was now desperately rutting into you, the tips of his long hair tickling your cheeks as he fell a bit, struggling to maintain balance. his arms were still splayed straight out on the mattress, supporting his whole weight. “you can put your forearms down, use your elbows aswell, it’ll be easier.” you instructed and he followed, still a bit clumsy in his motions.

he tried it for a while, but you could tell he still struggled to keep his hips at an even pace while trying not to collapse on you. “baby, cm’ere, give your arms a break.” you held him close so his chest was against yours, his face immediately nuzzling into your neck, tired arms wrapped around your middle. you found the position quite comforting with his weight on top of yours.

this was easier for alex as he felt more steady like this, moving his hips even faster. you let out a rather loud moan when his cock hit just the right spot, causing your back to arch slightly. “that’s it- fuck,” you whispered, one hand coming up to grasp at his hair.

alex continued to whimper into your hair, hands gripping your waist tightly. “good boy, fuck,” you stuttered, feeling your lower stomach begin to rise with pressure. alex angled his hips ever so perfectly on every thrust, his eyes watery as he glanced up at you every now and then. he whimpered practically straight into your ear, close himself.

your head fell back into the pillow, exhaustion tinting your eyes but your heart raced. alex sat up a bit again, using his forearms as support, his hair caging you in and brushing against your cheeks as his face hovered close to yours.

you pulled him in for a messy kiss as you came, moaning into his mouth, which triggered his own anticipated release, cum filling you to the brim. he whimpered and gasped all over your lips, riding you through your orgasm.

you panted, heart fluttering as you pulled the boy in, holding him close. you rubbed his back, his chest rising and falling, slowing as he started to catch his breath. once he calmed down a bit, he pulled out of you, wincing a bit. you turned over and clicked the lamp off, bathing the room in an inky darkness that soothed your tired mind.

alex immediately cuddled up to you again, wrapping an arm around your middle. you cradled his face with one hand, pressing soft kisses to his nose and cheeks. “you did so good honey, i love you,” you whispered, kissing his shoulder.

he hummed in delight, responding with a sleepy, ‘i love you too,’ and with that, you wished him a goodnight and finally closed your eyes, seeping into a peaceful slumber mere seconds later, holding your lover close the whole time.

———

hope you liked, sorry it’s a bit short

taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kennedy-brooke

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out. 

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?” 

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Do I know how to English? No. Have I written anything in the last 14 years? No. But stoic!reader got me acting unwise, so uhh Reader's described as afab but otherwise gender neutral unless I fucked up the pronouns somewhere

Reader, who knows that with Ghost they always need to be rougher in the beginning. He needs a fight, he needs a struggle, he needs to feel like he deserves the pleasure - so they let him keep his attitude, even if they see how the muscles in his thighs tense, even if they see how his throat works desperately, trying to choke back the noises as they bite and leave marks all over the soft skin of his inner thigh, deliberately ignoring where he needs their mouth now

Reader, who presses their hand on the hinges of Ghost's jaw through the mask, so that when after long, but none too gentle preparations, the strap finally sinks in, they could hear the way his breath hitches

Reader, who maintains eye contact as they pick up the pace, making mean, shallow jabs with their hips until the tension in those eyes melts, eyebrows scrunching up in almost-but-never-truly-there plead; then, and only then, biting nails in his side turn into soothing caress, bites on his collarbone into soft, warm kisses all over his chest as they angle their hips just so, going slow and deep and tender until Simon can't take the gentle touch anymore

Reader, who wraps their arms around Simon's shoulders, allowing him to muffle his panting and short noises of pleasure into their neck, soft and damp material of his mask touching their skin in almost there, but not quite kiss, more like an attempt to find their pulse with his lips, to ground himself, to feel alive together as he cums, stilling and holding his breath

-🗞️

I KNEW YOU HAD THAT IN YOU.

YOU DO GOOD ON YOUR NAME SAKE, YOU NEED TO BE HIT WITH A ROLLED UP NEWSPAPER. /S

PLEASE KEEP FEEDING US

MY GOODNESS

YOU WRITE BEAUTIFULLY

YOU'RE NOT RUSTY AT ALL

KEEP AT IT, YES YES

[permafrown]

"strike a nerve"

— SUMMARY ; Psychs finally, finally! addresses how they feel about Deimos.

SHIP ; Psychsdei (Psychs x Deimos)

WORD COUNT ; ~1.1k

CW/TW(s) ; light cussing, exactly one(1) cigarette, arguing

NOTE(s)? ; are we in egypt bcuz this is looking like denial

It was unlike Psychs. The sheer, unbridled rage coursing through their veins - the adrenaline. The heart palpitations. It was out of their control. It went entirely against their character, to feel something.. so.. strongly. These emotions all had the same root cause - Deimos.

The way he persisted, the way he aimed to worm his way under Psychs' skin.. Oh, how it pissed them off, especially when they couldn't make sense of what his end goal was. What was his deal? Why was he putting so much effort into maintaining a relationship with them? What did he hope to gain from it?

Part of them had suspected, maybe even hoped, that at first, it was an all an elaborate ruse to make it easier to get them on SQ's side. Warm them up, and then tear them from Nexus' clutches without any fight, fuss, or need for a hostage situation.

But, that wasn't entirely the case, apparently. Even now that they were actually with SQ, he still came to see them. All the time.

They rub their temple with a sigh, hearing the familiar sound of the door to their lab opening. He's back. Again.

"Back so soon?" Psychs chirps. Their composure was at stake here. They don't even turn to look at him, pretending to focus on the screen infront of them.

"Can't get enough of ya, obviously." Deimos greets back with a cocky grin.

Psychs giggles once, pausing briefly before they start up again, bursting into a fit out of laughter that didn't feel like their own. Maybe they were going crazy.

Deimos found this strange. At the same time, it was always nice to catch Psychs in a good mood. "So," he asks casually. "What's my favorite scientist been up to?"

His little title for them stings. "I've been doing some self-reflection lately." They hum, spinning in their chair to face him, another giggle falling from their lips. "I hate you, you know that?"

Deimos' grins drops from his face immediately. "Uh-"

"I do! Since our first meeting, where I made the mistake of letting you go with your life still intact." They clear their throat, standing from their chair, "That first instance a mercy. I blatantly went against the orders I was handed from my boss because, what can I say? I liked you. Funny, charming, a wonderful conversationalist, even got a few good laughs out of me." They shrug. "It was refreshing. A nice change of pace from the dull, monochromatic environ I called a job."

"You knew that. I knew you knew that, so you kept it rolling. That was fine, to me. I even let you convince me to join SQ, fully expecting you to be on your merry little way. Mission accomplished, as they say! I wasn't going to hold it against you, had you of decided to of ended whatever charismatic front you were flaunting to keep me interesting."

"But, no," Psychs stops, fingers pressed together for emphasis. "Instead, you stuck around. Overstayed your welcome time and time again, and for some God forsaken reason, I allowed you to. I continue to allow you to invade my space, impose upon my time, and after each and everytime I can't help but but ask myself - Why?"

"Even as I stand before you now - Why?" Psychs looks at him, giving him a smile that didn't reach their eyes. "Why didn't I kill you the first time? Or during any other beautiful opportunity I had, time and time again?"

"And now," they laugh bitterly. "Here we are! On the same team. Needless to say, the opportunity has long since passed."

Deimos goes to take a step forward, but Psychs abruptly yells "Don't!" They point at him. "Don't. Move."

"Wha-" Deimos stops in his tracks. "What's your deal, Psychs? I thought we were.." His words fail him, in that moment. He rolls his wrists as he tries to find the right word. All their past interactions - Had he been reading them wrong? "..Cool?" Is the understatement that he settles on.

"Absolutely not." Psychs responds. "I can't stand the way I feel when I look at you. The heart palpitations, the increased giddiness, feeling like my stomach is doing flips, the way I can't get you out of my head!" They grit their teeth at the last one. "It's God fucking awful, Deimos."

Deimos just stares at them for a moment, looking confused. That didn't sound like hate to him, not at all. "So, let me get this straight. You're mad, because, what? You like me more than you thought you would?"

Psychs could almost hear glass crack, in that moment.

Liking him. It's a ridiculous notion wrapped in some elementary school playground language. The idea that all of the Psychs' rage was in response to an unexpected spike in romantic attraction felt absolutely juvenile. And yet, it was true. The worst part wasn't even that it was true, it was that Deimos was the one clocked Psychs' feelings for what they were immediately.

"That's not an entirely bad thing." He tells them in an attempt to soothe them. "I like ya too, Psychs."

"Surprised ya didn't call me out on it sooner, I wasn't exactly tryin' to hide it or anything. Actually, I thought I was being super obvious and maybe you were the one who just wasn't into it. But at the same time, you didn't really turn me away so nothing was super cut and clear, and I kept trying to shoot my shot, but now-"

With a deep breath, Psychs snaps their fingers, pointing at the door behind him. "Get out of my lab."

"...What?" Deimos laughs awkwardly.

"Out." They repeat, louder this time.

"C'mon!" Deimos stands his ground as he throws his arms up in disbelief. He steps closer to them, making them flinch. "You seriously can't handle how you feel? I literally told you that I felt the same, why are you still trying to push me away?" He's practically begging at this point for an answer, attempting to move in even closer.

Psychs doesn't answer. Their silence spoke for itself. Every part of them knows Deimos is right. This is an unreasonable reaction to have to something that, ultimately, could be wonderful, but every other part of them is still screaming to shut it down, to shut him out.

They cave. Without another word, they grab his shoulders, physically turning him around before pushing him out of the lab. Even as he drags his feet, sputtering out sounds of confusion and frustration. With a hard shove, he's out the door.

"Psychs!" He calls out, whipping around just in time to see the metal doors closing in his face. With a heavy sigh, he turns back and stares out into the hallway. He fishes a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up as he thinks to himself -

That wasn't how that was supposed to turn out.

[littlegodzilla]

Yay for requests

Can you do Judas/biker girl reader? Maybe they first meet on the highway and he doesn’t know she is a girl because of her helmet but then is smitten when he finds out? Thank you for your writing

Hi Anon!!

Sorry for the waiting! I liked your idea and don't usually have requests about Judas so, I'm totally in!!

Not too long, sorry about that too, but hope you'll like it.

Enjoy!!

*************

Let's Ride.

Judas x BikerReader.

One shot. Anon request.

Warnings: none.

Words: 1000.

Judas returns home, after days away from New York, on a mission that Jesus expressly left in his hands. The leader of his gang wants to expand the club outside the city and is meeting new leaders to know what he is up against, Judas is acting as an intermediary between some of them. It is exhausting to listen to their proposals and repeat, over and over again, what they want to carry out, but it is his duty being the Vice President of the club, Jesus trusts him, although sometimes it is not clear to him why.

He is immersed in his thoughts, when a motorcycle passes by his side, roaring in his ear, catching his attention. He frowns because he recognizes the badge decorating his leather jacket, it's his gang, but there's no name written on it. He must be a rookie, but they are not allowed to go out with the name of the club until they are formally initiated. He tenses up, annoyed, and speeds up to stand behind said subject. He seems to be aware of his presence because he also quickens his pace, but Judas is no novice and has no trouble keeping up with him.

From his position, a few meters behind, he observes the other biker's driving. He has to admit that he also knows what he's doing, he dodges the cars without a problem, takes some daring overtaking and makes the engine of his Triumph roar, it's a classic model, but it's well maintained and used to making long trips. A flash catches her attention again, she has seen him, but that doesn't make her slow down, quite the contrary, now it seems she is challenging him and Judas accepts the game.

He is not surprised that you stop at the door of the club, he has arrived a few seconds behind, but he has to admit that he has enjoyed the ride, it has been interesting. He turns off the engine of his bike and is ready to approach the other biker, but his companions jump on him, welcoming him, he sees how he disappears in the crowd and enters the club, he wants to go behind, but his companions don't leave him alone.

"Judas is back!" they shout as he enters the club, they all shout in jubilation, whistle and raise their beer mugs. Judas smiles at the warm welcome.

"What have you bastards done already to miss me so much?" He jokes and everyone laughs with him.

"Let's celebrate your arrival, beer!" They howl and Judas shouts with them.

"Beer!"

He advances to the bar to order for himself, he unbuttons his leather jacket and unbuttons his shirt, it's hot as hell and it's not much better in there. When he arrives there is already a cold beer waiting for him and he drinks it without protest.

"Welcome home." He hears next to him, turns his head and discovers Jesus. He smiles and they give each other an affectionate hug. "How was the trip?"

"All good, negotiations are already underway, some have demands they want us to follow, but..."

"We'll talk business, you just got here."

"Ok... by the way, I met a rookie on the road, he was going with our jacket but no name, since when do we let them go out like that?" he asks curiously, Jesus frowns, not knowing what he means, but then he smiles.

"Oh yeah, no, it seems to me there's been a misunderstanding, my friend." He explains and gestures to him, Judas then sees someone among the other members approach. "It's my sister, she's come to visit." He explains and introduces you.

"It's a pleasure, Jesus talks a lot about you." You smile and hold out your hand, Judas needs a second to react and then responds to the gesture.

"Your sister? I thought..." he starts to speak, but the leader nods cutting off his question.

"She was away for study purposes, but with her new job she's been transferred to the States and came to see me." He explains again, Judas fixes his gaze on you and you smile kindly.

"We met once, a long time ago, I was just a kid, I don't think you remember..."

Judas remembers, vaguely, but he remembers that little girl who used to follow his best friend everywhere, unruly hair, crooked teeth, glasses to correct her eyesight and was always dressed in boy's clothes, knees bloody and muddy. She certainly has nothing to do with the woman in front of him now. You wear glasses, but they give your look an interesting, sexy touch, your tousled hair is gathered in two long braids, your teeth are no longer crooked and are protected behind full lips that Judas suddenly finds very appetizing. He swallows, shifts on his feet with some hesitation and feels his hands sweating.

Fuck, why do you have to be the boss's sister?

"She's not going to stay long, she must return mid-week to her job." Jesus' voice catches his attention. "I'm tied up with all the new business we have on our hands, why don't you two meet up and take her out to see the city?" He suggests to his right hand man, you roll your eyes.

"Jesus, I'm not eleven anymore, I can go around by myself." You mumble.

"No, it's okay." Judas steps forward to speak. "I don't mind, in New York there's always something interesting to see." He smiles and you look at him curiously.

"Okay..." You agree without looking away from him, Judas doesn't either, the two of you studying each other intently, you don't even notice Jesus walking away, leaving you alone. "That was a good run." You say then and he smiles.

"I let you win, babygirl."

"Of course..."

"Anytime we can do it again." He challenges you, you smile with amusement and move a little closer.

"There are other things I'd like to do, more interesting." You tell him in a suggestive tone, your fingers caressing his hand.

Judas' pupils dilate and he breathes heavily, watching your every move, your mischievous smile and the language that screams your body drawn to him. He takes a step closer, but you place a hand on his chest.

"Enjoy your welcome, Judas." You tell him. "See you tomorrow."

Judas grunts like an animal as you turn and disappear back into the crowd. His pulse is racing and he wants so badly to follow you.

He loves coming back home.

.

.

The End.

.

Hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!

[tobiramamonmari29]

external point of view:

Kakashi: Be nice to Daddy.

Naruto feels his shyness fade and lets himself be carried away. He smiles kindly at Kakashi and responds in a warm voice:

Naruto: Of course, Kakashi. I mean Daddy I would be nice. her voice is tinged with a slight cute shyness, but also a desire.

Kakashi: Call me Daddy again.

Naruto: Okay, kakashi... Daddy, Naruto replies in a warm but a little shy voice.

Kakashi: So how much do you like Daddy?

Naruto smiled shyly, blushing slightly.

Naruto: I love you so much, Daddy. You are someone special to me and I am ready to show you all my love and devotion. he expresses his affection for Kakashi, trying to live up to his expectations while remaining true to himself.

Kakashi: Ah on your knees for Daddy.

Naruto feels a little nervous, but he obeys Kakashi's request. He slowly kneels in front of him, bowing his head.

kakashi: Come on, take care of me.

Naruto blushes intensely when he sees Kakashi's erection, but he remembers his role as an obedient boy. he slowly approaches him, hands trembling, and gently takes Kakashi's cock between his fingers.

naruto: Of course, Daddy... I'll take care of you as you want, he whispers in a soft voice before carefully initiating caresses to satisfy Kakashi's desires.

Kakashi: Daddy is proud of you, you are so cute and obedient Naruto. he gently ran his hand through his tousled blonde hair.

A slight smile appears on Naruto's face as Kakashi shows him pride and tenderness. he enjoys the feel of Kakashi's hand in his hair.

Naruto: Thanks Daddy. I want to make you happy, replies the blond

in a soft voice, a slight blush coloring her cheeks with shyness.

Kakahsi: Really? You are a good boy.

Naruto: Yes Daddy. I'll do my best to be the best boy for you, Naruto replies, trying to contain his embarrassment while responding humbly to Kakashi.

kakashi: open your mouth, pretty boy deserves a reward.

Naruto feels both embarrassed and excited by Kakashi's direct request. he slowly opens his mouth, ready to satisfy his partner's desires, while keeping in mind the rules of consent. he eagerly awaits Kakashi's next directive.

Kakashi moaned as he felt Naruto's mouth wrap around his cock. Naruto maintains a gentle, steady suck, seeking to bring pleasure and satisfaction to Kakashi. his own heart beats rapidly as he focuses on the task at hand, his senses awakening to Kakashi's reactions. » he continues cautiously, wanting to give Kakashi the pleasure he seeks.

he swallows deeper, stretching his throat to allow for more intense penetration.he does his best to satisfy Kakashi's desires, seeking to give him intense pleasure. Between each deep throat, he lets out muffled moans, demonstrating both his own sensations and his desire to please his daddy.

he continues his sucking while varying the pace and depth, seeking to excel in his role and give Kakashi unforgettable pleasure. Her movements are full of adoration and engagement, her own moans expressing her eagerness to meet Kakashi's demands.

kakashi: Daddy, go cum in your mouth, do you want Daddy to cum in your mouth?

Naruto blushes immensely upon hearing Kakashi's request, but he does his best to answer it with devotion.

naruto: Yes, Daddy... I want you to cum in my mouth, he whispers, intensifying his caresses to plunge Kakashi into intense pleasure. His voice trembles slightly, his own senses gripped by a mixture of excitement and shyness.

kakashi: You're a good boy, Naruto. He said as he ran his foot against Naruto's erection.

Naruto moaned softly as he felt Kakashi's foot against his erection, reacting to the stimulation as he continued to give Kakashi his own pleasure.

naruto: Thanks Daddy... I'll do whatever you want, he whispers between deep throats, his own feelings intensifying at Kakashi's actions.

Kakashi: My big baby is so cute between my thighs.

Naruto: Aah...daddy... Naruto moaned, his cheeks turning even redder. he feels both embarrassed and delighted by Kakashi's words. His own arousal soars as he continues to bring satisfaction and pleasure to Kakashi.

Kakashi: My big baby, you're going to cum in your pants.

Naruto groaned at the words, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. He lets out a choked sigh, feeling his own desire rising quickly.

“Yes, Daddy,” he murmurs, letting himself be carried away by the intense sensations that invade him. his hands continue to stroke Kakashi's erection, seeking to satisfy him as much as possible.

Kakashi: Baby, come back in my mouth, I'm going to cum.

naruto obeys everything while seeking to satisfy Kakashi. he swallows quickly, feeling a wave of intense sensations as Kakashi reaches his climax. He moaned softly, letting his own emotions take over. after a while, he stands up, satisfied that he was able to grant Kakashi's wishes.

Kakashi: Open your mouth, show Daddy if you swallowed everything.

Naruto: Yes, Daddy, the blond whispers, obeying Kakashi's request. he opens his mouth to show Kakashi that he swallowed everything as directed, hoping he accomplished his task well.

Kakashi inserted two fingers into Naruto's mouth making him moan, while his long pale fingers explored his boyfriend's mouth. Naruto moaned under the exploration of Kakashi's fingers, his own cheeks growing redder and redder. he lets Kakashi guide him, expressing his own arousal through muffled moans, his senses still aroused by the shared intimacy.

kakashi: Mhhh~ He removed his fingers before grabbing Naruto's chin. leaving the sperm stuck along the blonde's step. Did you come in pants like Daddy asked you?

Naruto gasps slightly when he feels Kakashi's hand on his chin, his face tinted red as he hesitantly responds:

naruto: Yes, Daddy... I came in pants for you. the drool on his jaw testifies to the intensity of their exchange, reminding him even more vividly of the satisfaction he found in obeying Kakashi's desires. his underwear and pants stained with his own cum don'tbothered him more once he saw that Kakashi seemed pleased with himself.forgetting a little his embarrassment.

Kakashi: You were a good boy, you deserve a reward. Ask Daddy what you want.

Naruto smiled shyly, delighted to have been recognized as a good boy by his daddy. His eyes light up with impatience as he whispers softly:

naruto: Daddy, can I ask you to take me in your arms and hold me tight. Nothing would make me happier than to feel your love and tenderness.

Kakashi: Of course my big baby, come on Daddy's lap.

Naruto blushes even more, but he can't help but smile happily at Kakashi's proposal. he moves slowly to find himself on his lover's lap, snuggling happily against him. he feels cherished and loved, in Kakashi's protective arms, and he knows he is exactly where he wants to be.

Kakashi: Now you're a good boy, he said, stroking Naruto's hair. Daddy is proud of you, you were so good, so gentle and obedient. he lifted Naruto's face and kissed him tenderly. Daddy will take good care of you, you deserve it.

Naruto closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled by Kakashi's sweet words and the caresses of his hair. He feels fulfilled, loved and appreciated. Kakashi's tender kiss fills his heart with happiness and he returns it with all the tenderness he feels.

Naruto: Thanks Daddy... I love you so much, he whispers, hanging on Kakashi's every word and gesture, knowing he's in good hands.

Kakashi: I love you too, my big baby. come and rest next to Daddy, I will watch over you, sleep with peace of mind.

Naruto snuggled comfortably against kakahsi, feeling safe and cherished. He closes his eyes with a peaceful smile, moved by his lover's words. the warmth of Kakashi's embrace soothes him, and soon he falls asleep, knowing that he is loved and protected. he never thought he felt so loved, deep down he loved being Kakashi's big baby.

END.

[ladycrocy]

Kinktober - Day 12 - Cunnilingus

Rob Lucci X Boa Hancock

Summary: Boa Hancock has been captured by CP-0 and is being escorted to Mary Geoise to be given as a slave to the Celestial Dragons. Rob Lucci wishes to interrogate her in his own way to find out the whereabouts of the Mugiwaras. (straw hats). Lucci is rough with his hungry forced cunnilingus.

Content Warning: NonCon, Cunnilingus, Forced Orgasm, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Mild Blood, Biting.

AO3

Word count: 2822

Hancock had been caught. Absurd. She paced herself in the small interigation room of the World Government ship. Since the marine couldn't capture her, they decided to send CP-0. Against her better judgement, she had underestimated them. She had easily taken down Kaku, that strange giraffe man. However, the one called Rob Lucci didn't fall for her love love beam. No man or woman had ever been able to resist it before.

"This is an outrage! I demand that someone release me at once! I am no mere woman! I am the snake princess, and I deserve to be treated as royalty!" She screamed at the door. Uncomfortable soldiers tried to ignore her pleas. So she tried the other way. Her voice got softer and cuter. "Mmm.. It's not my fault the marines dropped me. I was such a good girl for them. Wont you save me?"

The guards had taken the bait and were filled with desire or just lust for the attractive woman. They were just about to open the door and let her out when they saw Lucci. They jumped because they didn't even hear him approach. Seeing him brought them back to their senses. "Lucci, Sir. We weren't going to.." They decided it was best to just stay silent.

He walked into the room. Since she had an obsession with the man he wanted dead, he thought to interrogate the empress. He'd seen these three weak minded soldiers fall directly into their trap. "Pathetic", he coated his hand in haki and bitch slapped one of them, which turned their head a full 360 degrees before their body flew into the wall. "Get out of here before I change my mind." He added to the other two soldiers.

"Where's Mugiwaras whereabouts?" He spoke in a nonchalant superior tone. His voice booming with deepness remaining on a purely buisness tone.

"Luffy?" Her voice was soft and filled with adoration. Then her face grimaced as she furrowed her brows. "How dare you? You think I would betray my love? You are a disgusting dog for the world government, not even worth the fur carpet you can be turned into for my door mat! Release me at once!"

She stepped confidently up to Lucci, despite having sea prism cuffs on, she was still very prideful. She glared up at him and was mere inches from his face. "I am not afraid of a government dog." She spits in his face and flips her hair back.

"Tsk- love?" His forehead wrinkled, and his eyes twitched in frustration. He back handed her, and grabbed the chain to the sea prison cuffs. This did not allow her to fall down to such a weak attack. However, a grunt did escape the snake princess's lips.

"You will be...- what I'm going to do to you is far worse then what the gods have in store for you." He stretched his arm up, and forced her arms up with the cuffs. Lucci ensured to only touch the metal chain. His other hand grabbed her neck, and slammed her back against the wall. The agent's grasp was strong and sadistic. Lucci pulled her up against the wall up until her tippy toes left the surface; just like he had done to luffy. A smirk grew on the agent's face that maintained his composure once again.

Lucci pulled the chain back behind her as he made sure her hands were incapable of touching him. Once he had released his grip from her neck, he then positioned her legs over his broad shoulders. The snake princess had never been known for wearing much clothing to begin with, so it was easily disposed of with a quick rip.

This would be the only time she would be above him in any way. His breath was warm as his tongue poured out of his mouth.

"Don't you dare! You disgusting creature! You can't jus-" Hancock's rage was cut off by a forced gasp.

With her slit perfectly leveled with his face, he stuck out his tongue further curling it up licking along the underside of her pussy lips. The agent's eyes locked onto hers, as he looked up at the fallen empress. He just liked the thought of using her when she had a "lover", especially that rubber fuck. Rest assured, he won't be using a "rubber."

His tongue began to work it's magic. He delicately flicked his tongue all around Hancock's delicate folds allowing his saliva and her natural juices to coat and glisten her pussy. His elbows touched the wall using his hands to grasp onto her thighs, and kept her legs forcefully open. Lucci's tongue would begin to flick against the empress's clit. The tip of his appendage danced and swirled around her bundle of nerves in a fluid quick motion. The agent's tongue threw his saliva up and covered Hancock's stomach before he forced his face deeper into her. While he maintained eye contact, he took subtle, deep breaths.

The former warlord tried to shut her eyes tight, but the feeling of him licking her most sensitive spot only intensified. Though, when she opened her eyes, his intense predator like gaze made it worse as well. There was nothing she could do, but watch this horrid man continue. Her brows still held the hate she wanted to portray, but her lip was quivering now.

"St-stop this! The only one who can do this to me is my husband!" Several attempts at closing her legs seemed futile as he pulled them back open. So much pressure was building up, and she had no idea what was happening to her. It was as if he were sucking her soul out. The noises that escaped her lips were only causing her greater embarrassment.

The corner of his lip was curled into a satisfying smirk on his face. Lucci's curly hair tangled around his head as his locks gently brushed against her thighs. His beard coated in white already as his chin continued to add friction along the entrance of her slit. White juices dripped from his chin as his mouth made all kinds of appealing sounds.

"Mmmm~" his tongue wagged and dragged from side to side that caused a different kind of stimulation. The pacing was quick and merciless. The agent's eyes closed gently, his tongue moved in a wave like motion. Now, he licked up and down with steady flicks of his tongue, before he turned his tongue into a taco like shape. It latched onto her further. Lucci's moans were muffled between her as he shoved his head into her slit as much as he could. His lips vibrated around her as he continued to suckle onto her erect sensitive clit.

The noises he made were driving her crazy. Not to mention everything he was doing to her was so new. Her pussy twitched beneath his unrelenting tongue. Every lap, lick, suck and vibration had her body moving. Her back would arch as best it could in her position and her hips were trembiling.

He noticed her resistance, but it was futile. He'd make her even more helpless by gripping her legs tightly and pulling them with an immense amount of strength. His hands glided up her legs before securing her ankles and pushing them back. This showed off her flexibility. With her feet held on either side of her body pressed firmly against the cool wall, both of her holes were nice and vulnerable to him. Her pussy leaked down and coated the outer ring of her tight little asshole.

He unlatched himself for but a moment. The sounds of her moans irritated him."Shut the fuck up already."

With his sudden outburst the snake princess was brought back to reality for a moment. "How dare you speak to m- Agh!"

He brought himself back onto her, biting her inner thigh as hard as he could. His sharp teeth pierced into her skin. "Tsk-" blood dripped into the corners of his mouth. Lucci licked them up seductively. The taste of blood excited him, and surely she was a virgin.

Hancock had screamed at the sudden bit to her inner thigh. She tried to wiggle or move, but there was nothing to be done. She only hoped that he didn't take a chunk of her flesh out. With wide eyes, she watched on in horror as he licked up the blood that dripped down. For once, the mighty empress was at a loss for words.

His mouth gaped, and he grasped her ankles tighter. This action slid her further up the wall until her head touched the ceiling. Hancock's pussy was now on full display, and he positioned himself to tongue fuck her. His predator like demeanor changed as he latched onto her pussy once again. This time he maintained an annoyed like eye contact.

Lucci's eye contact was now like a challenge Hancock couldn't back down from. Glaring at him hatefully so that he could feel the ire resonating off of her.

His eyes were narrowed as his tongue began to circle the entrance of her slit. Steadily, the tip of his tongue pressed inside of her occasionally. This motion got her nice and worked up. Also, it denied her further pleasure. The agent's tongue would wrap around the entrance each time he invaded slightly, and licked thoroughly. This made her pussy nice and sloppy before finally burrying his tongue in nice and deep. His tongue swirled in circles as he moaned against her pussy once again. His top lip vibrated simultaneously with his licking. This coated the depths of her walls with his salvia, hitting her g-spot. Then avoiding it, and keeping an unsteady pattern.

For a moment, her eyes softened as his teasing began. He didn't know it, or maybe he did, but he was edging her. Keeping her body on the precipice of orgasm without letting her experience the release. His grunts were only adding to the fire as her mind began to spin. She was starting to feel light-headed from all the pleasure.

Her moans filled the room despite his demand. "You.. disgust... me.. government dog..mmgh" She tried to keep her hateful glare, but it was slipping more and more with each lap of his tongue. It hit a spot that caused her to jerk, as a spark of electricity flowed throughout her body and threatened to release all the pressure she had built.

His hands slid down her ankle and grasped behind her knees, pushing her legs further into the wall. He'd growl at his frustration of hearing her sounds of pleasure after hearing her filthy words.

The slurping, lip smacking, and moaning were audibly nosiy without her thighs blocking and barricading the sound waves. Lucci's tongue was like a sex toy. The delicate swift motions of his thick appendage gathered up her white creamy juices. The taste was pleasing enough to get lost in a trance. Naturally, his tongue movements got more eager, and his eyes rolled before he closed them. He found it amusing with how exposed she was and how good she was feeling that she still had the courage to degrade him. He didn't know whether he should make her addicted to him or make her hate him more. Either way, he would just leave after he was done with her.

Hancock was shaking. Her mouth permanently gaped as she gasped for air that was plentiful around her. Once he went rougher her body began to tense up and her tight pussy clamped down around his tongue as the powerful electric release of her orgasm, her FIRST orgasm shot through her. Her juices flowed onto his face and in his mouth, pooling on the floor at his feet. She was trembling from the intensity of it all. It had felt like a surge went from every nerve ending and collected at her clit to be released there. To her dismay she let out a scream as well.

His tongue would withdraw the tip of his tongue coated in a white substance. "Tsk." He dragged his tongue down, and coated her tight rim with a mix of her juices and his salvia. The agent licked beyond her rim, and back towards the entrance of her pussy. His lips would begin to enclose and open as if he was making out with her pussy. Refocusing on her clit once again. Nothing but his lips grazed, rubbed, and stimulated her throbbing tense clit. His chin kept poking her creamy pussy once again before fully withdrawing from her pussy.

Her degrading words echoed in his head. This forced him to take out his frustrations, and put her in her place. He released his grasp from her bent knees, allowing her legs to fall back onto his manly shoulders. He took a step back from the wall, grabbing the chain and power bombing her onto the hard floor with the intentions to knock the wind out of her.

She was so out of it that she didn't see it coming until she was slammed on the ground. She coughed and gasped trying to get air back in her lungs. It was enough to bring her hate back through her obviously slutty face. "You monster of a man.. I hate you." She said with a growl.

He pulled the chain, furthering her helpless arms, keeping her weak and vulnerable. His legs would wrap around pinning hers. Lucci's hands would now push up against her hips, furthering her submission and exposure. With her tight rim in perfect view, he bent over slightly enough to begin tonguing circles around the outer layer of her asshole. Gently pressing and invading her enough. Easily slipping in from her vulnerability and arousal. His tongue pressed in further before doing the familiar motions as before. His lips enclosed latching on. His tongue acted as a rough ocean wave. Circling around the depths of her walls within her asshole, coating her tight hole with her cum and his saliva. He kept the familiar demanding but nonchalant glare. As if he was saying. "Say something now, bitch."

She felt him lick her tightest whole and her head jerked down to glare at him in shock. She shook her head violently as if to tell him 'not there!' Though she didn't expect him to care at that point. Her already sensitive body was now thrown into more chaos due to this man's tongue.

Tears were welling in her eyes, but she willed them to stay put. She would not cry for this man's pleasure. But the way his tongue moved in her asshole was a feeling she just couldn't describe. Her pussy twitched with every flick he made. This was causing her cunt to crave more action. Her embarrassment was palpable. Not to mention the guilt she had. She had been saving herself for Luffy and that looked like Lucci was going to be taking it instead.

The depravity of this position did infact keep her hushed. Lucci had full intentions to fuck her unwillingly but abuse her willing holes. His tongue acted with precision. Each grace and gentle caress would turn into a bundle of chaos as her own cum covered the face she was staring at. He couldn't stand looking at her so instead he closed his eyes. He grasped her from behind, pushing and pulling her hips, forcing her to grind along with his tongue. Swirls and flicks created even more friction and stimulation within the depths of her tight, possessive ass. He growled, having his lips vibrate even more to accommodate the pleasing sounds of his own expert tongue skills.

He consistently grinded along the ridges of her asshole continuing to slurp suck and lick her in a variety of moves. Up untill the point her hips rocked themselves switching his hand placement to please her pussy once again. Surely it was even more sensitive now. He grazed his tongue against her visible swollen clit, rubbing his thumb against it while using his other hand to lift up her button's hood. His coated thumb, covered in cum, rubbed in a slow thorough pace adding pressure and sensation against her bundle of nerves. All the while, his hand holding her hood open pushed against her abdomen. His eyes would open back up, noticing her breasts squished together. The sight of her helplessness was becoming very pleasing to him that lewd facial expression was even more satisfying giving the circumstances of the moment. He eagerly withdrew his tongue from her asshole before panting breathlessly as if he was choosing her pleasure over breathing. He'd catch his breath slowly but steadily.

"You can hate me all you want- but your body will love me." He glared down at her in an insuperior look with a devilish smirk acrossed his face, rubbing her clit even faster then before to emphasis his point.

To be continued?

The banner creator

[brownskinwaifu]

Picture this okay.

Inui x hottie bi(mbo)by

Hot b(imbo)ody summer. Bikini all out. Light tan, juicy tropical drink by your side.

Carefully removing your Chanel sunglasses, you softly cock your head to the side as you eye the tall man. Chiseled physique was drowned in droplets of water as he flashes a boyish grin, alluringly yet with looming mischief. He shakes his hair warding off any excess water wetting you in the process.

“NOT ON ME THE FUCK” You hysterically yelp. Like you just wanted the sun, not that you would swim anyways it was just to look real good and drink a cold ass drink like what the fuck is up with this hot guy and his cute eyes and his big hands that you want so desperately around your waist as he fervently pounds you-

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to be that loud but could you please move elsewhere?” Switching your game up real quick, you look into his minty hues expecting him to move. “Nah, I uh- I actually wanted to talk to you, I noticed you from afar you real cute”

“Oh! I am? Aren’t you a doll thank you so much, I like your eyes real sick!” Your hand grazing his neck ‘without a clue’, Inui eyes you with excitement. You wanna go there? He reciprocates energy through placing your hand in his and gently tracing over it. You both make eye contact, scent of chlorine and vanilla blending he can’t help but shut the space between you two.

“Your pretty bold for someone that wanted privacy aye?” Inui questions at your ear. Attempting to gain control over the dynamic Inui’s frustration slowly builds up but w-why is your body built like a pornstar? Unbeknownst to him, the whole time he was staring at your lewd white two piece practically being swallowed up by your sexy self..

“What are you talking about? I still do! But you seem friendly, look we’re even holding hands like besties” you mindlessly giggle, leaving Inui dumbfounded. He swiftly brushes off your hand off his. “Fucking tease” he chuckles.

_______

“Ow that tickles~” you mew against his collarbone. Fresh purple hickies lather his neck from your failed attempts of maintaining your sultry moans. Do you care tho? No, not when a hot stranger is balls deep within your tight pussy, holding your legs up and ramming you against the wall. Such temptation should’ve gotten you creaming at this point.

And it’s not funny when he is literally eyeballing your every move, reaction to hitting your Os, head tilting, legs shaking and his warm tongue grazing your cute plump nipples.

“You’re so dirty baby, what about that cute act you ran a while go? Were your thoughts already running wild?” Slow strokes allowed you to breathe as he continued “tell me, whadya think of?” He breathlessly gleams.

“Wanted me to fuck your brains out this way?” Moist clapping sprung off the walls indicating how loud yet quick Inui picked up his pace. His cheeks were bright red, eyes rolling back with hot drool running down the corner of his lip. He couldn’t help but take advantage of the moment just to relieve some tension in his balls. Until he heard your wantonly sighs. He gains composure.

“My lips on your fat swollen clit? Our tongues hungry for each other? Or my tip downing your wet throat? You there sweetheart? Fuck I don’t think I’ll- oh~” Couldn’t help it. He lowers you to then lift one leg over his shoulder, charging full speed in your pussy.

Wet splashes from his fingers on your clit form a pool around the floor as you’re squirting all over his fingers. Too lost in your bliss, your life-force clenching around his dick drives Inui berserk. Blue irises tinted with arousal deepen and signal desperate for its owner’s release. Almost carnal enough, Inui’s chest rises as he lets out the sluttiest whimper.

Hips moving uncontrollably as his grip around your leg and hips tighten, he can taste it.

“See what you do ah~to me cutie fuck I’m cum-mi-ahh” his words slur, tip sensitive shooting an intense amount of cum into you. His moans hardly die out, he looked so fucking slutty it almost had you break character for him. Again.

[national-sorscha-fanpage]

first time trying to post writings on tumblr... and you guessed right its kaesaria i have been whipped for them since day one

fair warning i wrote this at 2am and its actually incoherent

also credit for the idea to @viperiti's og fic it was so good it just stuck in my mind until i HAD to make my own rendition! (wc: ~1.3k)

tl;dr rosaria gets injured and kaeya bandages her angst style

***

Rosaria groaned as she clutched at her side and hobbled across the central cobbled streets of Mondstadt. Why was he so hard to reach? Why did his hefty paychecks have to go into maintaining his little oblong house, perched mockingly above flimsy stairs? Those were the few thoughts that ebbed and flowed with the same rhythm as the vibrating pain of her wound.

By the time she spotted the slanted building, she was practically dragging herself out of sheer determination. Perhaps, to her, there was something calm about the place. Something that said: You’re safe now. Maybe that was why she allowed herself a seated position on a stair and to feel the relief radiating from her feet to her calves to her tightly clenched abdominals. The right palm applying pressure to her wound relaxed in sync with the sleepy droop of her eyelids.

When her eyes flew open, she was unmoved on the step. For a second, she felt only a pang of disappointment, and then her only sensation was pain once more. That, and the head of blue hair approaching, his pace quickening into a jog when he caught sight of her until she was eye level with his legs. He corrected this by crouching down in front of her, giving her a perfect view of his worried frown. In a silent answer, she lifted her left arm to expose the worrisome gash and watched as his jaw fell slack. Rosaria winced in response, instinctively moving to cover the wound once more.

Fortunately, Kaeya did not allow her to do so—assisting in draping her right arm over his shoulder so that his torso was pressed against her uninjured side. He offered her a whispered “sorry” upon her grunt, but not much more until he was sure she could manage a semi-walk.

“So… can I ask, how?” he began: an attempt at hiding the worry in his voice behind his trademark mischief.

“You may not,” she struggled to rasp out. He gave her a breathy laugh, both to relax her and to appease his own amusement. Kaeya was half-carrying her and half-guiding her to the entrance now, pulling her through the brief hallway to his bathroom. It was dark, but she did not feel lost. He tugged on her as gently as possible until her back was to the counter.

“Could you jump for me?” he spoke in the most natural manner she had ever heard him. Though she did not quite understand why, she obliged with the worrying obedience of a lamb. He used the momentum to prop her on top of the empty countertop next to the sink, where he’d take his eyes off her for a moment to switch on the low-humming lamp. It wasn’t bright, by any means, but would suffice placed next to them. Here, she watched him fumble through the cabinet above the mirror to her right and pull out a pristine wooden box. She could not miss the ethereal glow of his skin accredited to the warm lighting. Before touching anything, he took out his usually loose ponytail and opted to pull as much of his hair as he could into a tight updo. His eyepatch offered even more stark a contrast against his princely features when it was not disguised under bangs. He hurried to wash his hands, and, finally, get a decent look at the wound.

“It’s not bleeding too badly…” he mused, though still appearing concerned.

“Yes, we’re past that stage now,” she mustered through gritted teeth. “If only you’d closed out your tab…earlier…you could’ve—”

“Shh… you’ll be alright,” he tried his best at being reassuring while he brought out a small glass bottle of what she knew would be incredibly painful ethanol. She wanted to scream I know in his ear. It was a treatable wound, perhaps she would even get out without stitches. She supposed, while watching his long fingers make elegant work of pouring it over a round of cotton, that it scared her to know that he was her only solution to being in trouble. “Get ready,” he mumbled, the sound reminding her of her predicament once more.

She shut her eyes tightly and did her best to make no sound once the putrid blue liquid made contact with the wound. She failed, naturally, but decided to permit herself a hiss this time. Kaeya, instead, tried not to focus on the panicked rise and fall of her breath as he dabbed at the blood and grime, or the rhythm at which her collarbone would peek out under her milky white flesh, or—

Once he’d been sufficiently thorough, he pressed a cloth dipped in cold water to the wound and wiped as gently as possible to leave only the fresh blood and tissue.

“You’re lucky it was a slash and not a stab, you know.”

“Thanks," she huffed almost contemptuously.

“Could you take your shirt off?” he inquired nonchalantly, as though he was asking her about the weather.

Despite this, she nodded, offering no protest. Though it was obviously an effort to pull her arms over her head, she noted he did not make any effort to help until she was left in her bandeau. He pressed a compress against the wound, guiding her to hold it in place while he fumbled with the roll of bandage. The wrap began at her wound, and passed a few times around her torso and twice around her right shoulder in a diagonal to the wound. 

“How bad does it hurt now?” he asked with what seemed to be genuine interest. Like he expected a compress and a bandage to cure her.

“Just enough,” she managed a soft smile.

“Good,” he drawled. “Maybe you’ll be more careful next time.”

“Anything to wipe that smirk off your face, Captain.”

“Yeah, yeah, and what if I hadn't found you in time...”

“What happened to being alright?” she began to chuckle at him; a decision she quickly regretted when she was reminded of the sting in her side. He pursed his lips (perhaps to hide his amusement) and extended his arm to her in an invitation, allowing her to get off the countertop with minimal pain (considering her situation). Still clutching on to his arm, she allowed herself lead down the dark hallway, felt the gentle creak of the floors under her feet: the silent swing of his bedroom door and an oil lamp being lit on his nightstand.

Rosaria did not hesitate to make herself comfortable on his bed, kicking her shoes off and swinging her legs over the side. She was tired. And yet, as she tucked herself into the comforter, she allowed herself this time to really look at his face— purely due to the brighter light in this room, and the ridiculous state of his hair with awkward strands falling here and there. And that eyesore of an eyepatch. She contemplated speaking and ruining the calm silence; her self-destructive nature winning this time.

"When will you show me your eyes, Kaeya?"

He seemed startled by the question, hand lifting to ensure the cover was still on. He stared at her for a moment, perhaps most startled by how comfortable and... content she was. However, Kaeya Alberich was nothing if not a smooth talker.

"When you tell me how you did that," he pointed his chin to her body on the bed. So he had figured how sensitive the event was to her. She cursed him mentally, but held his gaze determinedly. His lips pared, as though to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and leave her. Alone again, with nothing but darkness and a dull ache in her side— but finding solace in the knowledge that he would not probe, for now.

Perhaps unwillingly, she felt herself dozing herself concerningly quickly.

[fotu22]

"TOUGH ACT TO FOLLOW" - A Review of Tough Act's White Hotel Showcase

Last weekend at White Hotel will be a tough act to follow! Manchester based arts collective “Tough Act” checked guests into the night with all sorts of fun, donk cheesy edits superfast and super hard. Tough Act remained effortless and cheeky whilst summoning ciaos. The collective went b2b at time and others solo for a while, all while warming the crowd aggressively, no holding back. When the floor is warmed up like this it calls the party starters to the front. Although you may question the time and choice of pace ,the ones who don’t need to loosen up are leading the troop. Transmitting that energy across the floor and truly setting the pace for the night to follow.

Almost immediately you are pulled into the fun by the others around celebrating who they are. I notice this is a different type of joy expressed. I haven’t mentioned it yet, but Tough Act are a queer collective and so attract queer crowd. People are celebrating having a space for them to feel safe. Releasing the week gone, finding themselves or simply just wanting to dance!

I can often tell a good crowd by how long I spend in other areas of the club chatting. I kept on getting caught in conversations with warm and beautiful people, of course, in the silly and unconventional clubland way!

LCY stepped up and immediately commanded attention, I observed strong influences of London/UK bass music. Steamrolling through genre boundaries, whilst remaining extremely high quality and refined.

LCY’s ability to maintain dark and industrial all while keeping the crowd enclosed with endless groove. Hard groove techno laced with trickles of amapiano took me on a trip across the globe, whilst my feet were stomping away in Salford. This attitude is synonymous with multi-cultural energy, often exuded by artists from highly diverse ethnocultural centers such as Bristol and London.

Often with DJ’s who have played the circuit for longer than I have been alive, it can go two ways. They seem to only ever get better or in some cases seem somewhat out of touch attempting to read a “younger” audience but completely miss the mark. Misreading their youth for lack of taste in turn, opting for “bait” or more palatable set. DJ Flight was the antithesis of this.          A true pioneer of the jungle/dnb scene, had me hanging on the end of every beat, filled with curiosity for what was to come.

There’s a noticeable difference between new generation jungle DJ’s and the OG’s. The OG’s are able to keep that soul and groove within the sets no matter how much the tempo increases. The music remained dreamy, but the breaks jerked my body into all sorts of movements, just how we like it! Flight closed with some more “soulful” dnb more commonly known as “liquid”, this brought the mood down nicely allowing the audience to reflect for a moment and catch their breath.

Bringing this journey to a close was Stolen Velour, by this point I was locked into a side quest so I shall link Stolen Velour’s music below. Let me know what you think!

Big thanks to Tough Act for a brilliant night. Their next party at the White Hotel is on July 15th , if its anything close to the last one you’re in for a treat. Hopefully see you there!

Lots of love

F.O.T.U

x