#anywho what can ya do

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Had the most vile experience with a patron today 🤩 oh whole bag of mini peppers we’re really in it now

[sommerregenjuniluft]

Lune,,, taking a break from t4t to share some thoughts. what about virgin James discovering he has a humiliation kink… (because obviously he does it’s JAMES) regulus figures it out so quickly because regulus teases him once (1) in a group setting and James yelps and has to put a cushion over his crotch… and then regulus takes advantage of it by being so mean to him all the time and keeping James on this permanent (semi) hard state like this man is SWEATING and when someone asks him a question he goes ‘huh?’ Three times because mentally he is NOT present at all. Regulus trailing a finger down his arm, nudging his inner thigh with his foot beneath the table… James is Going Through it and of course his friends are like ‘what’s wrong? What’s happening?‘ and regulus is there chin in his hand elbow leaning on the table going ‘yeah James what’s wrong?’ While still pressing his foot down right next to his crotch OKAY IM SEEING MYSELF OUT

mar. get out of my head.

LITERALLY regulus starts teasing james soo fucking much right from the beginning cause james’ degredation/humiliation kink is just That Obvious. also BOY you cannot imagine how many times i’ve thought about the foot pressing into hard on underneath a table situation with jeggy. because it starts with james seeking out physical touch OR being jealous and like cheeky winding his foot under the bottom of reg’s pants and of course reg gives back Tenfold straight up rubbing his sole all over james’ erection MY MAN IS PANTING DRENCHED IN SWEAT!! and on a side note the past few days ive been thinking to myself how one would differentiate between humiliation and degradation kink and. well ig the former is a bit more voyeuristic ig? in a sense? or like exposing to some level at least and MAN can that be worked into some public sex firsts for jirgin IM EXCITED (i love ur braaiinnn)

[keeps-ache]

lost vocation: fish

[captain-krow-drozdov]

I Know I Dress Strange, But Can Mates At Least Ask To Take My Picture Instead Of Following Me Around And Trying To Take ‘‘Stealth’’ Photos?

[altruistic-meme]

the absolute impracticality of wanting to give in to the very likely one-time impulse vs remembering that i am trying to allow myself to give in to my impulses whenever possible

[bbrattywise]

SEEKING VALIDATION FROM THE 3D IS SOOOOO LAST SEASON

HEAR YE! HEAR YE! ladies & gents, boys, gals & non-binary pals, i present to you another post brought by urs truly, @bbrattywise : this post was ib: this reddit story

anywho, intros done, let's cut straight to the chase, i think the reason why most ppl struggle with validating themselves from the imagination is we're scared its "lying to ourselves" & its "being delusional" *red buzzer to both answers because those are FAR from right!!*

1) the imagination is REAL, realer than this reality in a sense that whatever u persist in the imagination will quite litreally materialise into ur 3D (because thats litreally how the law of assumption works. You assume in ur imagination/4D and it materialises into the 3D, ya get me??) So no matter what, ur dominant thoughts/assumptions (a.k.a ur dominant thoughts u persisted in ur imagination whether thats being tiktok famous or having ur dream yacht) have no choice but the manifest into the 3D.

2) u not feeling happiness/any sort of positive emotions when visualising/imagining living in end w/ ur desire ≠ it being fake. Because obviously, u having something = u being quite used to it so ofc u are not gonna feel all giddy everytime u think about it. Thats totally normal!! that is the same principle for experiencing "negative emotions". You experiencing any sort of emotion doesn't change the fact that you ALREADY HAVE ur desires in ur imagination, so chillax buttercup! you are not doing anything 'wrong'.

3)"but how do i imagine having my desires?" pls dont overcomplicate yall, i swear its as easy to do as it is to say. Basically pick what u want & acknowledge it being in ur imagination. For example, whenever i be stressing about the 3D i be like "oh yea, i already have it in the imagination which is my true reality" and go about my day. Its as easy as thinking, think as u already have it (because that is quite litreally the case). As Neville Goddard says "creation is finished" which i love falling back to whenever i am in doubt because once you've imagined ur desire, thats it. Thats all you gotta do.

4) find ways to make ur imagination ur fun place. When i started utilising the imagination, i was like "huh, wdym i can litreally imagine WHATEVER?!!" lemme tell u, the imagination is limitless!! It's like playing sims 4 without the restrictions put in place by the developers. You make DA MF RULESSSSSS!! Wanna visualise owning a pet dragon?? the sky's the limit!! its so fun picking things & living out ur imagination knowing that it materialises into the 3D regardless <3

the law of assumption (though a mundane, universal law) is such a beautiful thing to be aware of so utilise this information. Don't dwell in old circumstance because you're scared of change. Trust me, take this leap of faith and really have fun with the law of assumption. After all, its practically a life cheatcode, might aswell use it, right?

divider creds:

[reshinless]

I just wanted to say I LOVE your Kinich stuff so much. It makes me so happy to see people paying attention to him! I’ve read through almost all your Kinich posts and honestly I think you have his personality spot on. I also love the little inclusions of Ajaw in some of the writings. Anywho I had a little idea I thought fit him and figured you might like it :D

Kinich using his skill to tie down an enemy in a fight and you can’t help but get a little turned on at the thought of him wrapping his vines around you and letting him do whatever he wants to your body. （≧∇≦）

I don’t know if you have an anon list but if would love to be a 👾🪼🎐 anon (you can pick which one)

welcome 👾 nonnie 💜

your eyes linger back to your lover's as you both fought together. you couldn't help but let your imagination run wild, your mind illustrating every little detail about that rope he used to transport dendro into to hit the enemies.

gosh, maybe if he weren't so hot... you could just visualize—envisage how good it'd be to be tied up helpless in front of your boyfriend.

just musing the way his cold fingertips would touch and feel every curve he could see. "all f'me, baby?" your body almost twitched under his hold. every stroke down to your very core turning you on all the same.

"m- mmhm! all for you, kin'..." was the only thing you've been able to say so far.

he held you close with one arm, as the other one continued foreplay with your cunt. watching how it reacted in real time, and in the mirror in front of you two. the vine-like lines tied you down, and submissive to his rope.

"shhh, baby... not too loud. mualani right outside. don' want her to hear, do you?" you could feel his smirk grow even without looking up from the sight of the floor. pleasure the only sentiment on your mind.

you could feel something start to pool down to your core just thinking about it. or maybe he'd be a little rough with his sweet, flowery words. whispering your name... a kiss to your skin, scattering pecks down your back while his cock so angry, and mean, you could hear the sounds from the other houses. not to mention the moans you would let out.

vines only blooming with small flowers to signal that kinich was getting close. his grunts, and whines giving a few signs as well.

his hand hovered over your stomach, feeling the way his shaft reached, and kissed the deepest parts of you. "haah—you feel me inside ya, sweetheart?"

you don't know which you preferred more though, a more... softer—more vanilla kinich? or it could be the rougher side of him. oh well, as long as it was him, it's honestly hot either way.

he could do both, maybe you could last a few rounds. but you couldn't help cling onto his arm on the way home.

"...hey. you seem out of it. what's wrong?" his voice was quick, and caring. kindness clear in his voice.

"hah—kin'.." the very look in your way could tell him everything he needed to know. and before you acknowledge it, you're lifted up into his arms and he's swinging with you home.

the sappy sweet smile on your face was the opposite of the sentiment his cock sent through your hole. your entrance clenched harshly onto the shaft, his base giving fast thrusts nonetheless.

you were bent over the dining table you invited mualani to for dinner in a few hours. he can make this quick, I think.

your head threw back into the wood of the table, your arms helplessly flailing at your sides. eyes closed shut—his hands had such a gentle touch to your waist to hold you into place. your eyebrows knit each time you tried to open your eyelids, meeting his very eyes. piercing, dominance clear in his loving gaze.

"if you open your eyes—sweetheart... look at me at least..." one of his other hands floated over to your cheeks, helping you look, and maintain your eye contact with him.

even so, your umpteenth orgasm came and went... his hips were almost glued stuck to yours, his warm load shot up into your stomach. your back continued to arch, and so did his. archons—you've never felt better is all he's busy thinking about.

his cock slowly left you as he watched cum drip out of your sweet pussy, the urge to lick it all back in had to come for later, damn why'd you have to invite mualani...

he cleans you up well, letting you wear one of his clothes for the moment to wrap his arms around you and sit on the couch quietly. his head leaned onto his left as his left arm rang around your neck, holding you close.

the warm atmosphere almost icked mualani as she brought ajaw back from his walk.

"hmm. smells like pineapple in here... whatever, I brought your lizard back, (name) it's time for you to pay!" the girl cheered, drooling at the thought of your cooking. all the dishes you made tasted amazing, no matter what recipe anyone gave you!

kinich suddenly wakes up by the time you've left his arms to go to the kitchen and chat with the shark girl. oh well, he can wait until later.

[r1elle]

for my peace of mind i want to live in the belief that miya atsumu has AT LEASTTTT got to be a candidate in the “pretending to be nonchalant but horrendously failing at it” trope.

like can you just imagine ..

a just freshly out of the change room miya atsumu, —who, by the way, has his brothers clothes on. (he wants to make a cool impression, and unfortunately, it’s his brother who always has the better outfit choices between the both of them. though he’d rather die than admit it.) anywho, he’s outside of the gym on standby to see if you had already walked past the building at your usual time. (he knows because he’s timed it.)

and when he realizes you already did, and that he had missed to take advantage of that one time slot in your routine, he’s BUMMED. he’s bummed out like a bum in bum central. but it happens as much as it doesn’t, so he still can’t figure out why he’s so dejected whenever the outcome turns out to be the former. (maybe cause he’s just so in love with you like that ?? duh)

but anyway, cmon now. you really didn’t even stop by to see if you could catch a glimpse of him setting ?? serving ?? heck, even spiking ?!?! because he couldn’t care less whether or not you knew which position he played, or what move he often did on court—…okay, well, maybe he cared just a bit. but screw all that. he can just tell you all about it when he’s finally able to call you his ! because what’s most important right now, is you seeing him during the times when he looks his “absolute coolest”.

but goodness gracious you should see the complete 360 his expression does when he sees you laughing along with your friends near the vending machine, indicating you hadn’t fully left just yet. he’s basically grown dog ears, and they’re raised HIGHH. osamu just wants to throw up, especially even more so as he sees heart eyes practically being etched onto his twin brothers dna, and he could only hope it wouldn’t apply to him as well.

with this profound opportunity, atsumu suggests that maybe they should buy something from the vending machine using their remaining coins. (“their” as in osamu’s. atsumu has .99 to spare, but he thinks he’ll save it for another day. perhaps to buy you those 50 cent candies at the nearby 7/11?).

“i’m thirsty. are ya not? c’mon. let’s use ‘em remainin’ cents.” though, anyone can see that it wasn’t a suggestion. it was a demand. (atsumu has never loved the “i was born 5 minutes before you.” card so hard in his entire life.)

osamu can’t help but feel the obvious desperation radiating off of his brothers anticipating expression, so he feels bad and says yes. atsumu internally thanks his brother, thinking that maybe telling him that ‘he should’ve ate him in the womb’ a couple of days ago was a bit mean.

but now that he’s infront of you, what should he do? the boy can physically feel his critical thinking skills melting away.

and so, with little time to actually prepare, he settles on nodding his head towards yours as a greeting (? if it can even be called a greeting), avoiding eye contact as he poorly executes his cowardly advances. he internally wallows in doing so, because that was NOT what he wanted to do. gosh….why couldn’t he be as smooth as he was on court ?!?! what he wanted to do was,—

“hey,” [add in a lazy but still oozing with confidence expression. whatever looks nonchalant and cool!] “want this? i was gonna buy one for myself,” [handing off his coins with one hand while his other one goes off to casually brush his blond hair to the side,] “but eh. dun’ really want it. take it, if ya’ want.” [finishing off with a low-key but proud sniff as he shoves his hands onto his pockets.]

but no. that was not what had happened. at all.

instead, he’s now completely focused over to the vending machine, his eyes directly staring onto the drink he had caught glimpse of you already drinking. (how could he not? it was the whole reason his plan backfired.)

well. at least he was able to give out a (puny) nod at you.

before he could even do anything else to salvage this already weak pursuit of his, atsumu hears you and your friends’ conversation exit out of his earshot. assuming that you were now further away from him, his knees seem to find themselves giving in.

one may think it was due to the exercises coach had given for todays practice.

but miya atsumu is a star volleyball player who yields the magic of ‘athleticism’. so surely, the runs up the mountain during todays agenda should hardly be the reason of any damage caused on the blonds already well maintained physique.

and surely,

heated cheeks, rapid beating of the heart, growing sense of frustration, and a yearning for some sort of impactful interaction with you..

wouldn’t qualify as side effects of hard practice, right?

“stop leanin’ on the vending machine like that, ya’ idiot.” osamu snidely comments, and his ‘face-mushed-to-the-vending-machine’ twin brother can only groan in response.

——

the walk back home is surprisingly quiet, until a low grumble decides to finally greet the silence.

“i was supposed to talk to her.”

“maybe that lame nod told her all that ya’ needed to say.”

“it ain’t my fault she already had a drink in her hand!”

“yeah, yeah. sure. ya’ still looked lame, though. i almost felt bad.”

“shut up! ya’ don’t know what it’s like to be a man in love!”

“…..….”

a silence.

a silence from atsumu who’s now just truly realized how doomed he was.

a silence from osamu who wonders if the person behind them had heard atsumu’s rather flamboyant confession.

“love, huh? didn’t know you were that deep into her.”

“ARRRRRRVHHHHGGGGGGGGGH! SHUT YER’ TRAP, SAMU’!! I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHIN’ !!!”

and of course,

a silence from you, who couldn’t help but just take the longer way back home, all because it meant getting to walk a few steps behind him. (even if he had always failed to notice you doing so, every. single. time.)

i was thinking of ryu sunjae from lovely runner while making this … i hope most ppl will see the vision 💔💔 I JUST LOVE LOSER MEN WHO JUST LOVE THEIR PARTNERS SO VERY MUCH !!!!

[v1x3n]

SNAP! ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - fluff, angst - panic attack, trauma, flinching.

─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─

There's a sudden knock on the door to your room, your body dry and freshly washed, the minty smell from the soap bar fills your nostrils whilst you slump on the hospital bed. Curled in a way that was uncomfortable but it wasn't hurting any wounds so that would have to do.

The knock is followed by the door opening wide, revealing a man who you recognise, a man named Logan. The cheery fellow bounces into the room, suddenly the dingy lights seem brighter. "how's my favourite girl?" the man smiles while trotting inside, then closing the door behind him. "The nurse told me t' not bother ya sooo here I am!" he announces, smirking when you peer up at him. Your permanent frown slightly moves upwards when you see the goofy yet devious grin on his face.

Without a reply he sits down on the wooden chair placed by your bed, "you're looking better! my wounds are barely healing!" you wonder what had happened to him for a moment but then you remember that one of the first times he snook into your room, he rambled on for almost an hour. Telling you that he had been shot whilst on a mission, twice in the stomach. Luckily he survived. He smiles as he stretches out his hand, groaning, "I'm glad you're okay," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

A sigh falls from his lips when you sit up, "saw some big beefy guy leave your room before," john, he's obviously talking about john. "Looked real pissed off." Logan mumbles under his breath when he looks to the side. Fucking twat, he was pissed off? He doesn't deserve to be pissed off. "Ya know him?" He looks towards you for an answer. But you two both knew you weren't going to verbally say anything. You nodded hesitantly.

"Ya friends?" the man questions, this time it wasn't so hesitant. "No." You firmly said. Logan thought this was the first time you had spoken to him, it clearly must've been a trigger or something, "he is NOT my friend." Reaffirming your statement, pure rage boils through you at even thinking about being his friend. He lost that fucking privilege. "huh."

There's a silence that lingers in the air. The wet droplets from your freshly washed hair drips down, sending shivers down through your body. "Well, at least you have people visiting. My family is too busy t' visit. Or they just divnt wanna." he mutters the last part, "id kill for anyone t' visit."

"You know you get a lot of people lining outa your door? I can barely get through mine cause these bulky men will always be there." What? You questioned internally. "Ya friends with them?" you probably knew who he was talking about, it was probably the other knobheads that harmed you. None of them had really spoken to you since you arrived, john would sit down on the chair that Logan was currently sitting on sometimes, you two wouldnt talk though. Youd rather kill yourself than utter a single word to him.

"none of them are my friends, " gruffly talking again. Your throat kinda hurt so the sounds came out raspier than you had wanted them to. "hmm! Anywho! You wanna play some cards with me? I knowww.... Snap?" Then he puts on a dumb little smile.

After rolling your eyes at him, you nod. Magically he pulls out a card deck. Placing them on the blanket covering you. Once splitting the deck into two and passes you a half. Logan puts a card down gently on the blanket, not wanting to put it down too hard and hurt you. He didn't quite know what had happened to you but by the looks of it it was bad. You had nurses in all the time, your body was wrapped in bandages and by the looks of it, you only had 8 fingers.

"6 of clubs!" he announces. You place down a random card, 4 of hearts.

After a few rounds, you had won. For him having a deck of cards and wanting to play snap, he wasn't that good at it. A small smirk rises on your face, looking down at your massive stack whilst he had no cards left. "Well, well done." He grumbles with a mocking pout.

Once nodding you give him half your cards and he whacks them across the bed. Scattering the cards around, you gasp. Laughing, he observes the stunned look on your face before you shuffle the cards and half them. Dividing them into two halves, again making sure you both have a half each.

The word snap was yelled out from Logan's lips as he finally got ahead of you and slammed his callosed hand downwards onto the 2 of diamonds. When you flinch, he felt the weight of his face drop. "fuck, I'm sorry-" the look on your face could only be described as panicked, scared and fearful.

Suddenly a loud ringing blinds your ears. Your breathing grows. You take sharp and quick breaths when he looks towards you. You don't know why you panicked so much over something so stupid but then again - you do. "oh god I'm sorry!"

Logan's heart sank as he watched you struggle to catch your breath. He quickly slid closer, his voice gentle, "Hey- fuck- it's okay. I'm right here." He hesitated, unsure whether to reach out physically, but instead whispered, "Just breathe with me, nice and slow," trying to guide you back to calmness. But unfortunately that didn't help. You flinch back once more and shuffle under the blanket. The sounds of the room grew louder, the beeping of the machines sound over Logan's - trying to be - comforting voice. Your breath caught up once more. Your breathing is loud and fast. "it's okay-"

He gets cut off when a nurse comes into the room. She quickly rushes to you and all you see is almost a blur when your eyes prick with water. Distant yelling and you see the obscured bodies rush into the room, the nurse beside you and mumbling nonsense as the blob you think is Logan leaves. 

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - roronoa zoro

a/n: i for sure need these headcannons so bad at the moment😭😭 luckily, i should be starting some antidepressants soon!! i'm a bit nervous about it but it's definitely worth the shot, since i have tried literally everything else 😭 anywho, only the fluffiest fluff for now 😭😭😭😭 its all my heart can take

nothing but fluff here 💗

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when he comforts you:

-the green haired swordsman was the type of man to notice something was up before you ever had the chance to say anything about it. while he may not seem like it, he always has his eye on you.. he notices the slightest shifts in your mood, body language, the way you speak, the glimmer in your eyes, he'd never come out and say that.. but he shows up in smaller ways

-he'll spend a lot more time with you. invite you to watch him work out or drink with him under the stars, just making himself more present in your life, he'll never let you really be alone, unless you asked him for that.

-you may have to initiate it.. but the second you looked at zoro with teary eyes asking "can you just hold me for a second?" he'll grab you and pull you into his arms so fast... and he's not letting go anytime soon. his tight muscles enveloping your body, the rhythmic sound of his heart beating against your cheek is a sense of calm you can't experience with anyone other than him... it isn't until you lightly slap his arm with gentle giggles saying "okay.. zo, i can't breathe when you're holding me this tight.." that he loosens his grip on you (the absolute tiniest bit)

-the swordsman isn't the chattiest when it comes to talking through problems, but if you want advice, his straightforward and blunt outlook is surprisingly more helpful than you anticipate at times. zoro doesn't beat around the bush when it comes to his advice, so he'll only tell you if you really want to/are ready to hear it.

-you'll catch him staring at you more often than usual. this man always keeps an eye on you. it's his silent check in.. his casual way of asking "you doing okay?"

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: while he is mr tough guy ™️, he does not play around with you and your health. he'll grumble and pout when you aren't resting. his typical methods of forcing you to rest (but also still make you feel useful) is to have you lay on his back while he does push ups or dragging you to take naps with him. he doesn't outwardly express his worry but you'll find yourself waking up from naps with his watchful gaze on your face, his brows slightly furrowed, his gruff voice asking "did ya sleep okay? were you comfortable?" and he'll only relax when you reply with your typical soft sleepy smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering "yeah.. im okay... since you're here with me."

when he needs comforting:

-again, zoro isn't the chattiest guy in the world..so you can tell he needs you when he wordlessly pulls you close to him, burying your face into his chiseled chest, his rapid heartbeat sounding off in your ear, one hand tangled into your hair holding you head close to his heart, the other tightly gripped around your waist. the rugged soft murmur in your ear asking "can we stay like this for a bit?"

-one of his favorite ways to unwind is up in the crows nest with a bottle (or ten) of sake, with you by his side. resting your head on his shoulder as you both stargaze with the ambience of the crashing waves beneath you

-the swordsman also loves to throw himself deeper into his training as a distraction.. so he's absolutely thrilled when you one day approach him asking for help improving your fighting techniques and combat maneuvering.. be prepared to work hard though.. he'll train you until the sun goes down, eventually all his worries washing away when he sees the smile of satisfaction on your tired face after finally perfecting what he taught you.

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a/n: getting to write this with the soft patters of rain outside my window healed a part of my soul 😭😭 this is truly the quickest and easiest time i've had writing for zoro so hopefully that streak continues 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

───

AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up ��💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

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[little-annie]

NSFW STEDDIE & STOBIN TEXT CHAIN

Steve normal text. Robin’s Bold. Eddie's Italicized Bold

---

___Bird Brain___

Rob

Bobby

Bobin

What? Im literally right next to you

And were at work Dingus get off of your phone.

No.

I'm. Uh.

?

You know the shop across the street???

?

The mecanic

Mecanic

Fuck

Mechanic

Okay.

They have a new guy

Okay.

And?

Gay.

Literally, what?

I think I'm gay.

Steve

Cuz like he's just so pretty

Steven

And that Haut

Stephanie

Hair

Hey whore

Wut

Bathroom talk. Now.

Were working.

You and I both know no one rents movies on a Tuesday at 10am

Bathroom.

Now.

To the porcelain thrown

You know sometimes I forget youre an idiot 20 something

then you go and say shit like that

…

Bitch.

Whore.

---

How do I tell if a mans gay or whatever its is that I am,

,

Fuck

?

Bi schedule

Bi sexual

Ducking auto correct

Babe. I hate to break it to you but your auto correct is as dyslexic as you are. You basically train it

I-

Huh.

Well ghen.

Anywho.

Gay.

Whats he wear? Any piercings? Tattoos? Whats his hair like?

Oh! This is important. DOES. HE. HAVE. A. HANKY. IN. A. BACK. POCKET???

black overalls and a black shirt. Lots. I think. His ears literally look shiny from across the street. Lots of tattoos too.

And yes??? What's that have to do with anything? My papa had a hanky and I'm pretty she he wasn't gay

He probably was. Being Bisexual is genetic.

Actually?

No Dingus.

But like the man was in the navy? Right?

Ya

Gay.

Stfu

ANYWAY

HANKY.

YES.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

FUCK YEAH.

WHATS IT LOOK LIKE AND WHAT POCKET?

???

it's black

Oh hes kinky

What side pocket

It switches.

I bet it does

Gay.

That is a gay man Steven.

Go get your dick sucked or your booty bumped or whatever it is the kids are doing these days.

Eating ass

EXCUSE

yeah. It's a thing.

:0

Robin you literally munch so much carpet. whats the difference if its the rug at the back door.

Never.

Ever.

Say.

That.

Again.

Bubble bath privileges revoked.

You whore.

---

The bath is sad with no bubbles Bob.

Make your own.

…

Okay. Ew. Stop. Stink ass. I can hear you. And the neighbors probably can too.

Are you sorry?

Not really.

Well pretend to be.

Kay.

IM SO SORRY

…

:’(

better

Your bubble bath is under the sink

:D

---

Eddie

Wut.

Thats your new lovers name.

WUT

ROBIN.

WHAT DID YOU DO.

---

*1 new message* Hi -the weirdo with long hair who works across the street (Eddie)

---

I hate you

BTW babe you have a date on Tuesday

ROBIN IT IS TUESDAY

oh ya.

Well you have a date today gay boy

…

I need to leave

The fuck you do

Yeah. I fucking do.

I need to shower

And shave

And

I dont know

What do you do before a gay date

Prep?

For what?

Oh honey

---

Should this hurt?

8⁰

Don't tell me

Are u?

Yes.

Shut up.

…

Does it hurt

Like.

Kinda?

Lube. Oh my god. LUBE. Steve I swear to Dolly, if youre prepping your fucking asshole right now, IN THE FUCKING WORK BATHROOM

I

WILL

END

YOU

:*

Youre a whore. Oh my god.

STEVEN I CAN HEAR YOU.

STOP.

This is nice.

Why havent I done this before.

Where's the protest

Prostate

Rob?

Brain me. Educate me please.

…

Nvm

Oh fuck

Found it

Definitely found it

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

like good for you babe. I love you and support you but OH MY GOD YOU WHORE GET YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR ASS WERE AT WORK.

…

You really think Id do that

Obviously

Im fucking with you

Im just googling shit and well taking a shit.

Fuck you

Love you

---

*2 New messages.* um. So. Im Eddie. Your coworker. Robin? Gave me your number and said we're going out tonight???

---

Dingus have you answered your husband yet

FUCK. NO. WHAT DO I SAY.

well you could send him a picture of your ass

Or your tits

Or your weeeen

Or all of the above

Like a package deal

Hehe. Package.

Robin.

Ugh. Wut.

Be serious.

Fiiiiine. Introduce yourself. Tell him youre excited for tonight. Make a plan for your date. (Other than the reservation I booked you at Enzos) and then tell him you thi know hes pretty and you want to have his babys.

He is pretty.

And like. Id definitely let him try to get me pregnant

ANSWER HIM.

FINE.

---

___Future Husband___

um. Hi. First of all I'm so sorry for my friend. She likes to get her nose into my business. Second.

…

Ithinkyourereallyprettyandimexcitedfortonight.

At the risk of being too forward. I like literally saw you my first day at the shop and have wanted to talk to you since. Cuz. Yeah. Pretty doesnt even begin to explain what you are. Like. Bro. Have my babies.

FUCK

I CANT BELIEVE I SAID THAT

disregard the baby thing

I dont know about getting pregnant. But Im up for practice.

Like.

If you are???

8⁰

… like

Now?

My breaks in 20

Fuck

Really?

Meet me at the van across the street

:*

---

___Bird Brain___

STEVE

STEVEN

YOU WHORE

ARE YOU GETTING YOUR BACKDOOR RUG MUNCHED ???

OMG

YOU ARE

THE VAN ACROSS THE STREET IS SHAKING

AND ID BET YOUR LEFT NUT THAT YOURE IN IT

…

GET IT I GUESS BABE

DONT GET PREGNANT

OR DO

YOU DO YOU BOO

…

youre on your own for the rest of the day Birdie

And where the fuck do you think youre going

Eddies

…

Boo you whore

But like. Get it babe.

But I also hate you.

I dont want to work in this shithole alone

Steven

Answer me

Hi Robin

This is Eddie

On Steves phone

Steve's a little… preoccupied

OH MY GOD

WHAT HAVE I DONE

YOU TWO ARE GOING TO BE DISGUSTING

BUT BRO. ILL END YOU IF YOU BREAK HIS HEART

STRAIGHT UP DIG YOU A GRAVE IN THE DITCH AND BURN OFF YOUR FINGERPRINTS AND BREAK YOUR TEETH SO NO ONE CAN IDENTIFY YOUR BODY.

COLD CASE BRO

what would you do about my tattoos

Fuck you

Sorry. Positions taken.

Id burn your whole body. No skin = no tattoos

I like the way you think

But in all seriousness

Mmmm imma gonna marry this boy

Hopefully before the end of the week

Fuck yeah

I call best man

[dreamingofaizawa]

Mornings Like This

Shunsui Kyoraku x Fem! Reader

***This fic is rated R, if you are not 18 or older, please select a different novel, thank you***

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), cockwarming(?), creampie, soft morning sex with Shunsui been eating my brain alive o.O

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's Note: Ok yeah this man...this MAN holy shit I just think he's hot okay? Lazy morning sex just FITS HIM too well, he's so attractive, I love him. I would let him do unspeakable things to me. Also if this man called me sweetheart I think I'd die on the spot

ANYWHO Enjoy <3

The rising sun is what wakes you, the warmth of its rays penetrating the exposed skin on your back. It’s a lovely morning, the breeze that flows through the barracks is cool and gentle and crisp. Every morning is a good morning though, when you wake up in Shunsui’s arms. He’s still snoring away, the rise and fall of his chest lifting your head with every breath. He’s so handsome like this. He’s handsome always, but especially on mornings like these, where he’s naked beneath you and his hair is loose over his pillows. You can’t help it when you allow your fingers to trace shapes into his chest, and move your hand up behind his neck to lean up and leave a sweet kiss on his lips. That wakes him up and he immediately leans into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips and feeling your skin give beneath his fingers. It’s meant to be a chaste kiss, a sweet and innocent press of your lips to his. But it isn’t long before you can feel something poking at your thigh.

“Shunsui, you’re hard love.” His chuckle is deep and full, makes your body warm from the inside out. 

“Yeah, I guess I am. You gonna do anything about it?” That voice could make you melt any day, and today is no exception. You don’t bother with the banter, you’re more than ready for him, even though you can feel the soreness settling in from your escapades last night. This man was going to drain you of all your energy and then some. It’s lazy, the way you move to straddle your legs over him, and only just barely lift yourself up enough to slip him right inside you. The both of you groan, surely still sensitive even after so many hours of rest. His hands clamp down harder on your hips when you fully seat yourself on his cock and grind your hips down onto it. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” You hum, wait for his grip to loosen and lie back down on top of him. His arms come around you and he flips the two of you on your side, curling his entire body around yours and wrapping your legs around his waist. He can’t be comfortable, with your leg beneath his side as he lays on it, but he seems unbothered when his arms tighten around you and he thrusts his hips up slowly. You can feel him deep inside you, rocking sweetly back and forth, hitting every little soft spot that makes you tremble in his hold. 

“Oh my pretty girl, already shaking? Hmm I must be doing something right.” You nod into his shoulder, arms tight around his neck. He turns his head to kiss your temple, pairing it with an especially hard thrust up into you. It’s enough to make you gasp and your cunt clenches down tight. 

“Ya gotta loosen up, sweetheart. I can’t move with you gripping so hard.” He lays another sweet kiss on your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and massaging your hips to get you to relax. He’s always been good with his words of praise, lacing everything in a deep, honeyed tone.

“So good for me, my beautiful wife. Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? So pretty I could stare at you forever.” When you finally do relax he’s pulling you down onto his cock while he throws his hips up, hitting deeper and harder. Your head is spinning, the pleasure pulsing through your body along with the beat of your heart. Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and you’re shaking like a leaf in the wind while Shunsui holds you tight and keeps fucking into you, pushing you into a field of pleasure you’re only familiar with when he’s desperate to cum deep inside you. His teeth grab the tip of your ear, then graze at your neck, and finally he bites at your lip as you both pant in the morning sun. A thin sheen of sweat has formed over the both of you, hot bodies interlocked and moving in tandem for pleasure. You kiss him then, deep and slow and tongues dancing together, and with one final thrust he’s cumming deep inside you, warmth filling the pit of your belly. 

“Thank you for that, sweetheart.” He untangles your limbs and rolls onto his back once more, lying you in the same position you’d woken up in, only this time he’s left his softening cock to plug up your poor pussy. It’s a mistake when you lean up to kiss him once again, an ‘of course, my love’ easily slipping through your lips. Just from the kiss, you can feel his dick jump to life, making him groan deep in his throat.

“Didn’t expect you to be ready so soon, Shunsui. And from a kiss no less.” He laughs at that.

“Obviously it’s because a beautiful girl like you just kissed me. I can’t believe such a gorgeous woman is my wife.” You have to giggle at that, the little flatterer he is.

“Shunsui, we’ve been married for 152 years. You can’t keep not believing I’m your wife.” He leans down and kisses you, rocking his hips up to make you gasp, taking the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. You’re gasping when he pulls away, a devious grin on that handsome face of his.

“Maybe not, but I can surely appreciate every minute of it.” He stills his hips, relaxing all the way and holding you close. 

“152 years and I’m still madly in love with you. You do things to me, woman. Wonderful, devilish things.” You press a kiss into his chest, allowing your body to go limp in his grasp. 

“It’s a good thing I’m still in love with you too, then. We might have a problem otherwise.” He smiles down at you, and you return it, his hand brushing back the hair that had fallen in your face.

“It’s a good thing we don’t have a problem.” You nod, then lie your head down on his chest and listen to his heart beating. You feel all of him, his cock filling you, his strong arms wrapped tight around you, his fingers where they trace lines on your back, his breath on the crown of your head. You feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. You feel the love he pours into every action he takes with you, even an action so small as saying your name.

Nothing beats mornings like these.

[satelitis]

꒰ SIT NEXT TO ME ꒱. . . p jackson !

pairing(s) : percy jackson x cabin 11! reader

in which percy jackson experiences love at first sight.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : fluff, love at first sight, simp! percy, reader calls percy ‘shirley temple’ , reader is a child of hermes, totally isn’t based on me…. anywho!! 😇

robin chirps : i looooveeee percy!! and i’m cabin 11 what a coinkydink.

“woah.” percy stopped dead in his tracks as him, grover and annabeth walked back by the ring of cabins.

“what?” annabeth chimed looking in the direction percy was.

“who’s that?” he asked the two, his finger pointing at you. as you laughed with one of your friends at a stupid joke you had made seconds prior. annabeth replied,

“oh! that’s y/n. cabin eleven, and you can definitely tell.” she added. percy stood there in awe. his heart was accelerated and his breath hitched, his eyes were drawn to you and you only, nothing could draw him away. well, except for annabeth smacking percy on the head and making a sarcastic comment.

“careful seaweed brain, might wanna shut your mouth before you start catching flies.” grover let out a small laugh. percy rolled his eyes, as he continued walking,

“i’m gonna go talk to her.” he told them, walking away from the two. annabeth muttered something under her breath as percy came up to you.

you turned your head to see a head of curls walking up to you, you watched as he stopped in front of you. he stood there for a second not saying anything but just looking at you.

“uh hey shirley temple do you need something or at i free to go?” you joked.

“hi.” he managed to get out after a small silence

“hi.” you copied. percy smiled awkwardly.

“i’m percy, percy jackson.” he said.

“i know who you are shirley.” you smiled, as you tied your beat up brown converse.

“you do?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“uh yeah, everyone here knows you, you’re famous. almost as famous as your dear old daddy it seems like.” percy laughed awkwardly.

“and you are?” he asked.

“y/n l/n.” you stuck out your hand which had a good number of rings on it. percy was hesitant. “cmon shirley i don’t bite.” you joked, percy shook your hand.

you and percy locked eyes as your hands refused to leave one anothers. the moment was broken when you broke eye contact.

“well shirley i’m gonna go get water before i die of thirst so i’ll see you later?”

“yeah see ya.” percy smiled, you smiled softly as you walked away, your hand leaving his. percy was in awe as you walked away. he felt something in his palm. a small slip of paper with writing on it.

“meet me at the lake 8 ‘o’clock. see ya shirley. - y/n ”

percy couldn’t help but smile as he watched you enter the mess hall. this was going to be an intresting summer.

[charliedawn]

Hello! Just a small Idea or imagine, feel free to ignore if you wish

Anywho, my imagination was: imagine the nurse, right? But she/he/they have an inhumane soul. Like let's say everyone has certain souls but the nurse had a very old one (maybe has the soul of a fallen angel or something sent to Earth to live normally?) that's gone through years and years of rebirths. But WAIT, There's more. Let's say in their past lives, they've been killed by the slashers before. Maybe penny or pennywise ate them in a past life as they were a child, or Michael had killed them as a bystander. I know Penny and Pennywise would probably find out without help due to them being- well, them. But maybe what if the nurse could tap into the past lives and that's how the rest of the slashers found out? Or whatever you want, I just thought it'd be super cool :]

(It actually made me think about a previous request so I decided to keep the concept.)

The old, dusty photo album lay open, the sepia-toned images flickering with memories of a time long past. As the slashers gathered around, curiosity piqued.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy flipped through the pages of the old photo album, his usual mocking smirk plastered on his face. But as he landed on a particular picture, the smirk faltered, his brow furrowing slightly. His gloved fingers hovered over the photograph of your doppelgänger—a face eerily familiar, one he knew all too well.

"Well, well, well," Freddy muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and sinister. "Would ya look at that ?"

He lingered on the image for a moment longer than usual, eyes narrowing. He knew exactly where he’d seen that face before—he’d killed you once. Or rather, killed someone who looked just like you. Memories of a past nightmare flickered in his mind, the thrill of the hunt, the screams, the sweet satisfaction of victory. But now, here you were again, alive, standing beside him, completely unaware of the dark history between you.

Freddy chuckled, a sound that was anything but reassuring. He glanced sideways at you, his tone dripping with teasing malice. "Hey sweetheart, come take a look. Doesn’t this one look an awful lot like you ?"

You moved closer, peering at the picture, oblivious to the tension radiating from Freddy. You smiled lightly, brushing it off. "Yeah, people say that a lot. That’s the founder of St Louis. Charlie Johnson. Guess I’ve got one of those faces."

Freddy's grin returned, but it was strained, like he was trying to keep up his usual bravado. He wasn’t going to tell you the truth—not now. It was too soon, and besides, he wasn’t ready to deal with the implications of it all. He didn’t do remorse—not his style.

Still, something was gnawing at him as he stared at your calm expression. Maybe it was the realization that the person in that photo, the one he had killed, was the reason he was stuck in this place now. The reason he had met the others, the reason behind his strange new life in St. Louis. It wasn’t just a coincidence; it was some twisted cosmic joke, and for once, Freddy wasn’t laughing.

He cleared his throat, shaking off the momentary flicker of guilt—whatever that was. "Yeah, guess you got a face that stands out, huh ?" he said, his voice light but with a trace of something darker beneath.

You tilted your head, noticing how uncharacteristically quiet he was being. Freddy—silent ? That was new. "You okay ?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Freddy snapped back into his usual cocky demeanor, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Pfft, me ? I’m always okay, doll. Just thinkin' how funny life can be, ya know ?"

You chuckled, not fully understanding what he meant, but letting it go. Freddy leaned back, eyes still flicking between you and the photo, that unsettling smile never quite leaving his face. As you walked away, Freddy stared at the photo one last time, his expression hardening. You frowned as you found it weird that Freddy would suddenly fall silent—him who normally couldn’t stop yapping. You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw the expression of Freddy’s face. You had never seem him do that face before. Ever.

"Nursy…I am sorry." He finally said.

Your eyes widened.

Had he just…? You chuckled nervously.

"For what ? What did you do this time, Freddy ?" You joked and he smiled back. Yeah. That would be the talk for another time.

Michael Myers

As Michael studied the photo, he clenched his jaw, clearly deep in thought. You noticed the furrow in his brow, the way his eyes darted between the picture and you. It was almost as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle, each piece leading to a darker understanding.

You must have understood his worry.

You took a step closer, sensing his agitation. "Hey, it’s just a picture. It doesn’t mean anything bad will happen this time, right ?"

This time…

You knew. Maybe you had always known. He quickly pulled out his notebook and scribbled furiously, his handwriting neat but hurried. He turned it toward you, the message clear : What if it is a sign ? What if you are in danger ?

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "Michael, you worry too much. This was a long time ago, okay ? You changed."

He didn’t smile. Instead, he pointed to the picture again, his finger hovering over your doppelgänger's face. He then wrote down: Look at her. Look at the eyes. There’s something wrong. They are staring at me…They know. You were afraid and I killed you. I killed, Y/N.

You followed his gaze, feeling a chill creep down your spine. "I don’t see it. It’s just a face. It’s not like they’re—"

He interrupted you by flipping the notebook back to the last page, where he had written, People die when they’re connected to me.

The weight of his words sank in, and you felt a pang of sympathy for him. "Michael, I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me, okay ?"

He sighed, visibly conflicted. He picked up the pencil again, writing slowly this time. Promise ?

You nodded, your heart racing a bit. "I promise. It won’t happen again. You are changed. I have changed. The old Y/N doesn’t exist anymore."

He looked at you, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. But, also concern. Michael knew that it was only a matter of time before his bloody impulses would come back and then…And then…

He pulled you into a hug.

No. Not this time…Please. Not this time.

Jason Voorhees

Jason's brow furrowed as he studied the photo, the resemblance was striking and his smile faltered. It was as if the image stirred a long-buried memory, igniting feelings he had tried to suppress. The likeness was a ghost, haunting him with the weight of what he had done. He shook his head, trying to banish the dark thoughts that crept in. He remembered that fateful day—the fear in your eyes as he had pulled you underwater, the struggle for breath as he had mercilessly held you under water until no bubbles could be seen. The guilt clawed at him, a weight he could never fully escape. He stepped closer to you, the intensity of his gaze unwavering.

"Jason ?" you asked softly, searching for the man behind the mask. He remained silent, but in that moment, he resolved to change the narrative of his past. Without warning, he moved towards you, closing the distance with a firm but gentle grip. He enveloped you in an embrace, pulling you against him as if trying to save you—to keep you with him. You could feel the tension in his muscles, but slowly it began to ease as he held you. It was a silent plea, an unspoken promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. His breath was steady, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of fear—fear of losing you, fear of his own past mistake.

"Jason…" you whispered, resting your head against his chest.

He released you slowly, his eyes still fixed on yours, conveying everything he couldn’t say. The flicker of concern remained, a promise that echoed louder than words ever could. Jason would fight fiercely to protect you, even from the shadows of his own history.

Pennywise and Penny

Pennywise cackled, his yellowed teeth gleaming under the dim light as his eyes glinted with twisted amusement. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving the photo, where your doppelgänger stared back, frozen in time. "Reincarnation is a funny thing, isn’t it ?" His voice was a blend of mockery and intrigue, as though the very idea delighted him. "I wonder what you tasted like back then," he mused, savoring the thought like a long-lost memory. He didn’t remember all of his victims, but he sometimes had sparks of how they tasted.

By looking at the picture, he could feel the delicious taste of fear your past self. He then wondered if you were to be afraid now, would you come to taste the same ? You tensed at his words. His eyes lingered on you, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t tell if he was remembering or imagining the flavor of your soul, trapped in another body from a past life.

Penny, standing beside him, tilted his head curiously, always fascinated by his older brother’s musings, though never quite grasping the full depth of them. "Do you think they taste the same now ?" Penny asked, his voice light and filled with false innocent curiosity, as if discussing a favorite meal rather than the horrors that lurked beneath that very question. Penny couldn’t possibly comprehend the horror of realising that you had been killed by the Penny Brothers—your own patients—in another life…

Pennywise’s smile widened, sharp and predatory. "Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it," he purred, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to you, inspecting you like a hunter eyeing prey. "The past has a funny way of repeating itself, doesn’t it ?" His voice dropped to a low, taunting whisper. "Maybe we’ve danced this dance before, sugar. Maybe you screamed my name, and I...enjoyed every second of it."

Penny giggled beside him, blissfully unaware of the darker implications of the discovery. He was entertained by the idea, like a child hearing a ghost story for the first time. "If we met before, does that mean we were friends back then too ?" Penny asked with a wide grin, his eyes wide and shining with a kind of uncomfortable naive excitement. You shivered. You hoped you hadn’t been…because that would mean that…even though you used to be friends, they had still eaten you—their instincts had still taken over.

Pennywise shot his brother a sideways glance, the smirk fading for just a second, a flicker of something more sinister passing through his features. "Friends ? Sure, lil’ bro. I am sure we were real close," he drawled, his voice laced with irony as he turned his attention back to you, watching for your reaction.

You felt the weight of his words, the cold, lingering tension in the air. Penny’s innocent question hung between you, but there was no escaping the darker truth that Pennywise reveled in—the possibility that you had crossed paths before, in a different life, and that they had already taken something from you once. And maybe, just maybe, they would do it again.

"Funny how history repeats itself," Pennywise muttered under his breath, his grin growing wider as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his breath. "I guess we’ll just have to see if this time, it ends any differently."

You closed your eyes. How cruel…But you had been expecting it. The fact that the Penny Brothers had decided to spare you didn’t mean squat. They could get hungry at any moment and decide that you weren’t worth the trouble anymore…And that. That did scare you.

Chucky

Chucky chuckled, the light from the photo album reflecting off his mischievous eyes. His small, plastic fingers traced the outline of your doppelgänger in the picture. "Well, well, well, would you look at that ?" he muttered with a grin that was far too wide for comfort. "Looks like I’ve met you before."

He turned toward you, eyes glinting with something wicked. "You recognize ‘em? Nah, of course you don’t." His voice took on a teasing, almost playful tone, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down your spine. "Bet you didn’t know I already took care of you once. Guess you’re back for round two, huh ?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool despite the strange tension in the room. "What do you mean, Chucky ?"

He snorted, rolling his eyes as if it was obvious. "Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. This ain’t my first rodeo, and it sure as hell ain’t yours either. See that ?" He jabbed a finger at the picture again. "That’s you. Or, well, it was you. Before I did what I do best."

You stared at the photo, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at the back of your mind. It was unsettling how much the person in the picture resembled you, almost like a mirror from a past you couldn’t remember. Chucky’s voice broke your thoughts.

"I didn’t know then, but something tells me we’re not done. Not by a long shot," he said, his voice low and dripping with amusement. He let out a sharp, maniacal laugh, stepping closer. "What do you think ? You wanna do this the easy way, or we gonna have some fun like last time ?"

He was enjoying this far too much, but there was something beneath his bravado—something darker. He wasn’t just messing with you. There was recognition in his eyes, a hint of unease mixed with the usual bravado. He could remember your screams, your fear—and he enjoyed it.

You took a step back, trying to shake off the creeping feeling of dread. "You’re full of it, Chucky. It’s just a picture." You tried to reason.

He smirked, shaking his head. "Maybe. But you do feel it, don’t ya ? That little tingle in your spine ? That’s the past comin’ back to haunt ya, baby. And you and me ? We’ve got unfinished business." He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "You can feel it. In your bones. You know me."

His laughter filled the room, that familiar, high-pitched cackle echoing in your ears. Even as you tried to brush it off, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was truth in his words. Chucky left and your eyes fell back on the picture. You swallowed uneasily before turning around to leave…

Brahms

Brahms sat in the garden, staring at an old photo album with a deep sense of unease. His hands shook slightly as he flipped through the pages, his breath catching in his throat when he finally saw it—you. Your doppelgänger stared back at him from the photograph, the same gentle eyes, the same smile, just like he remembered. His heart tightened, and a wave of guilt washed over him. You had no idea, did you ? You were unaware that once upon a time you used to be his nanny and that once upon a time…he had killed you. He swallowed hard, gripping the edges of the book. For a long moment, he just sat there, unable to tear his gaze away from the picture. His mind raced with memories, flashes of the past he had tried so desperately to bury. He hadn’t wanted to hurt you—not then, not now. But he had, and now here you were, back in his life, completely unaware of the darkness that connected you both.

You entered the garden and noticed him, sitting there with his hands trembling ever so slightly. "Brahms ?" you asked softly, stepping closer. "Is everything alright ?"

He didn’t answer, couldn’t find the words. Instead, he glanced up at you with a look of such sorrow and regret that it made your heart ache. You frowned, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"Brahms ? What’s wrong ?"

Brahms carefully closed the album, hiding the photograph from view. He stood, his tall figure looming over you, but his movements were slow, deliberate. He didn’t look at you, instead lowering his head in shame. For a moment, you thought he might walk away, but then, to your surprise, he gently wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch you, but there was a desperation in the way he held you, like he was trying to protect you from something you couldn’t see. He buried his face in your shoulder, the porcelain mask he wore hiding the expression. You froze for a second, taken aback by the sudden affection, but then you relaxed into his embrace, your hands slowly coming up to rest on his back.

"Hey, it’s okay," you whispered, even though you weren’t sure what was wrong with him. "You’re safe, Brahms. I am here."

Brahms tightened his hold, his body trembling slightly. He couldn’t tell you—not now. How could he ? How could he explain that once, in another time, in another life, he had hurt you in ways that could never be forgiven ? He had been a different person then, consumed by fear, anger, and madness. But now ? Now he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again, couldn’t bear the weight of that guilt crushing him.

In his mind, he was reliving that terrible moment—the moment he had wrapped his hand around your neck. The moment he had watched the life drain from your eyes. And now, holding you close, he was trying to save you from that day, from the monster he had been.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, though the words were barely audible, muffled against your shoulder. He repeated it in his head, over and over, the weight of it suffocating him.

You stroked his back gently, not knowing the full extent of his turmoil but feeling the depth of his remorse. "It’s okay, Brahms. Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out together. I promise."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his mask still concealing his face, but you could see it in his eyes—the pain, the regret. He gently shook his head, as if trying to tell you that it wasn’t okay, that it could never be okay. But for now, you didn’t press him. You just stayed there, wrapped in his arms, offering him the quiet comfort he so desperately needed, even if you didn’t fully understand why.

Bo and Vincent:

Bo stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the old grey wall of the garage, his ever-present smirk fading as he glanced at the photograph Vincent had uncovered. The resemblance was uncanny—you, staring back at him from the past, though dressed in clothes from a different era and fear in your eyes…Bo felt a strange unease bubbling up inside him, a rare crack in his confident facade. He chewed on his lip, looking over at his brother, who was holding the photograph carefully, as if it were fragile, like the truth it carried.

Vincent hadn’t said a word—he never did. But Bo could see it in the way his twin’s fingers trembled slightly, in the way his usually stoic eyes flickered with some deeper, hidden emotion. Vincent felt it too—the weight of recognition, the unsettling realization that they had seen you before, lived through this before.

"Well, ain’t this somethin’," Bo finally drawled, pushing himself off the wall and sauntering over to where Vincent stood. He took the picture from his brother’s hands, studying it closer, though the easy grin didn’t return. "Looks like we got a second shot at this, huh ?"

They failed to hear you enter the garage. "What’s that ?" you asked, stepping closer to see the picture. Bo, always quick to shield you from what he didn’t want you to know, swiftly tucked the photo behind his back with a playful smirk.

"Nothin’ important, darlin’. Just some old memories," he said, his Southern accent dripping with that charming, almost teasing tone he always used when he was trying to hide something. But there was something off in his eyes, something he was trying to hide.

Vincent, on the other hand, stood motionless, his masked face turned toward you, his breathing slow but deliberate. You could feel his eyes on you from behind the wax mask, studying you in a way that made you wonder if he was seeing someone else when he looked at you.

"Can I see it ?" you asked softly, sensing the shift in the room.

Bo hesitated for a second too long, which was unusual for him. Normally, he’d have some smart comment or distraction ready, but now, he just stood there, one hand gripping the photograph tightly behind his back. Vincent’s gaze never left you. Finally, Bo sighed, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a little. "I reckon you can, but it might spook ya a bit." He handed the photograph to you, his eyes watching your face closely as you took it.

You looked down at the old, faded image. The person in the picture—someone from the past, yet they looked exactly like you. Same eyes, same face, as if you were staring at your own reflection in another lifetime.

"Is this…?" you began, but Bo cut you off.

"Yeah, looks like someone you look like someone from way back. Someone who mighta met a nasty end, if I remember right." He chuckled, but there was no real humor in it. "Small world, huh ?"

Vincent, still silent, took a step closer. His hand reached out slowly, and you watched as he gently touched the edge of the photograph in your hands, his fingers lingering there as if he could feel the weight of the past pressing down on him. You looked into his eyes, searching for some answer, but all you found was a deep, aching sorrow.

Bo noticed the exchange and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Don’t pay too much mind to it, a’right ? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. No need to go diggin’ up old graves."

But Vincent remained close, his presence heavy and filled with unspoken remorse. You could feel it—he wasn’t just looking at the person in the photo. He was looking at you, really looking, as if he were remembering something he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was something deeper, but whatever it was, it made your heart ache.

"Vincent," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s okay. I am not mad at you. It is all in the past."

His head tilted slightly, the ever-present mask obscuring his features, but you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. It was rare for Vincent to show affection like this, but in this moment, it felt like he was trying to atone for something, to shield you from a past you couldn’t remember but he could never forget.

Bo watched the two of you for a moment, his expression softening just a little. He may have been rough around the edges, but even he could understand that they had both grown attached to you. Bo sighed again and shook his head.

"Y’all are a couple of saps, you know that ?" he muttered, but there was a fondness in his voice. He turned his back to you both, giving you a moment of privacy. Vincent held you for a little longer, his embrace a silent apology for something you would never fully understand. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You were here, in the present, and that was all that counted.

You ended up up forcefully pulling Bo into the hug before whispering.

"It’s okay…I forgive you. I forgive you."

[levemetal]

Hi hello, I rushed this and I cannot be arsed to properly render this. I have other things to draw, many of them. But also. I really put too much effort into the flat of this that I kinda burned myself out LMAO

ANYWAY CALAMITY/GHOST KING SHEN JIU DESIGN. Take it, cherish him like I would. I wanted to dress him up like the pretty princess he is <3 Plus, ghost kings a la tgcf gotta slay in all categories so here we go. I'll ramble more about the more coherent thoughts I have but you can tear ghost king SJ from my cold dead hands. ٩( ᐛ )و

His motivations more becoming a ghost king/calamity are fairly straightforward if you're familiar with Shen Jiu and all the funky workings of his mind. It is to be stronger than everybody else and attaining a place that cannot be taken from him cause he has the power for it. So that no one else can have any power over him either.

However this also means that he does not necessarily have any grand plans of what to do with that power. I imagine he'd be a recluse, living off and alone somewhere hardly getting involved in the affairs of the living and gods etc.

If he does, I imagine it might more be in the style of killing slavers and otherwise bad men. Maybe a sort of brothel workers protector, getting rid of the most problematic and horrible clients? Let your imagination wander!

For a title? I have no clue man, I am not good enough at words for this. Something with green or teal as the color and leaves. That's how far I got.

Now the juicy stuff, POWERS. Leaves. Leaves and fans is the tldr version. I imagine he'd use the qi-infused leaves as in canon, just far more deadlier (probably) and conjured rather than just reliant on leaves off trees in the vicinity. For a weapon, if available (read: SY is not possessing SJ's OG body, or Xiu Ya was not obtained) I think he should get to keep Xiu Ya, or otherwise a blood weapon shaped after it. Tho if I had to give him a blood weapon a la Hua Cheng's E'ming, it would be a fan. The blades on it would likely be shift on, both an edge to cut with and places for darts to fly out. Otherwise in terms of weapons I could see daggers very well too for SJ. They'd suit him, as he could get in and get a quick stab or just throw them from afar. With his fighting style that likely has a lot of the ruthless tactics of his youth incorporated, I think it would fit just like a battle fan.

Otherwise, I do see him being a capable shapeshifter, or some sort of abilities to stay in the shadows undetected. If he needs some sort of animal or communication/surveillance skill associated with him, I personally would pick ravens. Spiritually created ravens as a sort of spying network and surveillance method.

Another juicy detail could be cultivation method. Tgcf does mention that the ghosts still have their own form of cultivating their power. For example, He Xuan eats and absorbs the abilities of other ghosts, whereas Hua Cheng is mentioned to cultivate via slaughtering. The xianxia in tgcf is rather vague now that I have a few more danmei under my belt, and specifically Devil Venerable also wants to know has given me a looot of thoughts about some interesting ways to detail this if it is so desired for a setting. Do please keep in mind tho I haven't really researched cultivation and the wuxia/xianxia 101 worldbuilding yet so this may not make sense. Anywho:

For Shen Jiu in particular I'd find it interesting to give him his own form rather than just copying either Hua Cheng (most fitting imo) or He Xuan (bonus eating disorder included, hooray!). So here are some ideas I had in no particular order:

- Take the core melting aspect from mdzs and applying it to ghosts (sorta): dissolving and absorbing the cores/qi of cultivators and ghosts alike, thus claiming the power for his own.

- Blood. Think less vampire and more slaughter. The messier the kill essentially, bleed the victims dry and absorb the blood to transform it into qi. (Thank you returning Dragon Age brainrot)

- dvawtk's Path of Slaughter. It doesn't really fit SJ as it relies on constantly finding stronger opponents to fight and challenge, especially ones stronger than oneself and persevering against the odds. Not his personal choice but it would poetically fit him and his entire life pretty well.

That's all for now. If you made it till here.... have a gold star: ⭐️