#best printing press near me

[srivigneswaragraphics]

Telugu Calendar Online Printing

[navpacknprint-blog]

Top 5 Benefits of Choosing a Local Printing Press Near Me

In conclusion, opting for a local printing press near me offers numerous advantages that online services simply can’t match. Personalized customer service ensures your specific needs are met, while quick turnaround times can be crucial for urgent projects. Supporting local businesses boosts the economy and fosters community growth. Moreover, local printers provide better quality control, allowing you to inspect and approve your prints before final production. Lastly, choosing a local option helps reduce your carbon footprint, as many local presses offer eco-friendly printing solutions. For businesses in Jaipur, NavPack & Print exemplifies these benefits, making them an ideal choice for all your digital printing needs. Experience the difference of a local printing press near me today!

[kwalityoffsetprinters]

Customized Tamper Evident Labels: Boost Security

In today's security-conscious world, Tamper Evident Labels play a crucial role in safeguarding products. These labels are specifically designed to indicate any unauthorized access or tampering, ensuring the integrity of the packaged item. Customized Void labels, featuring your brand name, provide an added layer of security and brand recognition. When these Tamper Evident Labels are removed, they leave behind a clear "VOID" message, alerting consumers and handlers to any potential tampering.

Special label shapes with perforation enhance the security features of Tamper Evident Labels. These unique shapes make it difficult for the labels to be removed and reapplied without obvious signs of tampering.

Furthermore, the use of TTE material, which disintegrates into powder when tampered with, adds an additional deterrent. This feature ensures that once applied, Tamper Evident Labels cannot be transferred or altered without destruction, thus maintaining the authenticity and safety of the product. By integrating these labels, businesses can effectively protect their products and build trust with their customers

[alwaysdial]

Affordable and Effective Advertising Agencies in Gaya

Finding the right advertising agency is crucial for any business looking to expand its reach and grow its customer base. In Gaya, a city known for its rich cultural heritage and vibrant economy, several advertising agencies offer top-notch services at affordable rates. This article delves into the best advertising agencies in Gaya, highlighting their services, expertise, and what sets them apart from the competition.

Why Choose Advertising Agencies in Gaya?

Gaya is home to a dynamic market that requires innovative advertising strategies to capture the attention of diverse audiences. Local Best Advertising Agency In Gaya understand the nuances of the market and can tailor campaigns to resonate with the local population. By choosing a Gaya-based advertising agency, businesses can benefit from:

Local Expertise: Knowledge of the local market trends and consumer behavior.

Cost-Effective Solutions: Affordable rates compared to larger metropolitan areas.

Personalized Service: Tailored advertising strategies to meet specific business needs.

Top Advertising Agencies in Gaya

1. Gaya Advertising Solutions

Gaya Advertising Solutions is a full-service agency known for its comprehensive approach to marketing and advertising. Their services include:

Digital Marketing: SEO, PPC, social media marketing, and email campaigns.

Creative Services: Graphic design, video production, and copywriting.

Media Buying: Strategic planning and buying across various media channels.

Why Choose Gaya Advertising Solutions?

Experienced Team: A team of seasoned professionals with extensive industry experience.

Proven Track Record: Successful campaigns for a diverse range of clients.

Innovative Approach: Use of cutting-edge technology and creative solutions.

2. Impact Advertising

Impact Advertising specializes in creating impactful advertising campaigns that drive results. Their offerings include:

Brand Strategy: Development of brand identity and positioning.

Advertising Campaigns: Creative and effective ad campaigns across multiple platforms.

Market Research: In-depth market analysis to inform strategy.

What Sets Impact Advertising Apart?

Strategic Focus: Emphasis on data-driven strategies for maximum impact.

Client-Centric Approach: Personalized services tailored to client goals.

Strong Network: Partnerships with major media outlets for optimal ad placement.

3. Innovate Media

Innovate Media is known for its innovative and creative Advertising company in gaya solutions. Their key services are:

Digital Advertising: Targeted online ads, social media marketing, and influencer partnerships.

Traditional Advertising: Print, radio, and television ads.

Event Marketing: Organizing and promoting events to boost brand visibility.

Advantages of Innovate Media:

Creativity: Unique and engaging advertising concepts.

Versatility: Expertise in both digital and traditional media.

Results-Driven: Focus on delivering measurable results.

4. Creative Edge

Creative Edge is a boutique advertising agency that offers personalized marketing solutions. Their services include:

Content Marketing: High-quality content creation for blogs, websites, and social media.

Graphic Design: Stunning visuals that capture attention.

Brand Development: Building and enhancing brand identity.

Why Creative Edge?

Attention to Detail: Meticulous planning and execution of campaigns.

Innovative Solutions: Creative strategies that stand out in the market.

Client Satisfaction: High client retention rate due to exceptional service.

5. Apex Marketing

Apex Marketing offers a full spectrum of advertising services aimed at maximizing ROI. Their services cover:

SEO and SEM: Optimizing websites for search engines and managing paid search campaigns.

Social Media Management: Creating and managing social media profiles and campaigns.

Public Relations: Crafting press releases and managing media relations.

Benefits of Choosing Apex Marketing:

Comprehensive Services: All-in-one solutions for all marketing needs.

Expertise: Skilled professionals with deep industry knowledge.

Affordable Pricing: Competitive rates without compromising on quality.

How to Choose the Right Advertising Agency in Gaya

Selecting the right Advertising Agency near me Gaya can be a daunting task. Here are some tips to help you make the best choice:

Assess Your Needs: Identify what specific services you require and find agencies that specialize in those areas.

Check Their Portfolio: Look at past campaigns and case studies to gauge their expertise and success rate.

Client Reviews: Read reviews and testimonials from previous clients to understand their experience.

Budget Considerations: Ensure the agency’s pricing aligns with your budget without sacrificing quality.

The Future of Advertising in Gaya

The advertising landscape in Gaya is rapidly evolving, with agencies increasingly adopting digital technologies and innovative strategies to stay ahead. The future promises more personalized and targeted advertising, leveraging data analytics and AI to deliver precise and impactful campaigns.

Choosing the right advertising agency is pivotal to achieving your business goals. Gaya offers a wealth of options with agencies that combine local expertise, innovative strategies, and cost-effective solutions. Whether you're a small business or a large corporation, these agencies can help you navigate the competitive market and achieve outstanding results.

[osachiyo]

ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ ! | ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ➣ nanami x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴄᴡ ➣ nsfw content (mdni or I'll beat you), brat!reader, hard dom!nanami, hairpulling, pussy slapping, spanking, fingering, throat fucking, bathroom sex, degradation, teasing, jealousy, 1.3k+ words of filth

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴀ/ɴ ➣ I'M SO SORRY FOR HOLDING THIS UP FOR SO DAMN LONG this man makes me so damn feral it's not even funny.. this is for my angel @nanamibeloved (hope I did ur man justice rylie !!)

⟣ ──┈ · · · + sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➣ during your house warming party, you have the genius idea of flirting with your husband's co-worker, how wrong could it go, right?

Kento was pissed, to say the least. You guys threw a house warming party tonight, just for you to cling onto satoru's arm the entire goddamn night. It was infuriating, and downright insulting to your husband, Kento. He was way too prideful to show it though, brushing you both off with a wave of his hand as he sips on his drink.

Somehow he lasted until dinner, you being seated next to Satoru, tits pressed up against his arm as you giggle at his stupid jokes. You were supposed to sit next to him, not the white haired dumbass. He was gonna be patient, though. There will be plenty of time to punish you later− "oh my, 'toru your muscles are so big!" You giggled, shamelessly feeling your husband's co-worker up in front of him as Satoru's lips stretched to reveal a sleazy smirk, and your lover decided he had enough. Cursing under his breath, Kento formed a polite smile, excusing himself from the dinner table before discreetly glaring at your direction, silently demanding you go with him. You smirked to yourself, this is exactly what you wanted.

You were slammed against the bathroom door as soon as you locked the door. You looked up to see your husband towering over you, a menacing aura surrounding him, it intimidated and turned you on at the same time, your thighs clenching together, god− you wanted him so bad.

"on your knees," Kento's jaw was clenched, palms flat against the door, effectively trapping you in. Scoffing, you tugged on his cheetah print tie, yanking him closer to you, "why don't you make me?" You could almost see the vein popping out of his forehead, "so you're playing that game, huh? fine, have it your way." Was the last thing he uttered before you were pushed down to your knees, a large veiny hand tangled in your roots as you winced in pain. "ow! kento− it took me like 3 hours to style my hai−" you were cut off by your husband's hardened length slapping against your cheek, effectively shutting you up. "I don't want to hear your blabbering," he sighed, pushing the bulbous tip past your lips as he shuddered in delight. "now, get to work, slut." You whined at the derogatory name, licking the underside of his cock before taking him in your mouth again, suckling lightly on the tip. He hissed when you slowly started to take him fully into your mouth, fingers tangled in your hair tightening with each inch you swallow. You took half of him before abruptly pulling off− his brows twitched in annoyance and he breaths a quiet "enough" before slamming into your mouth forcefully, the mushroom tip reaching the very back of your throat as you sputter and gag on it, not expecting him to be so rough. he keeps going till your lips touch the small tuff of dirty blonde hair near his base before pulling out almost completely− then brutally thrusting back into the wet heat of your mouth.

It went like that for what felt like an eternity− brutally thrusting in and out, in and out until you were on the verge of passing out, your hands that were previously slapping and scratching at his muscular thighs now went almost limp beside you before he pulled out with a groan. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he saw you coughing and breathing heavily, saliva and precum dripping down your chin in webs, trying your best to get air back in your lungs. But all of that guilt quickly disappeared once you looked up at him with a cocky but weak smirk, tears gathered in your lashes− "that all you got? I'm disappointed."

Oh you were such a vixen, and that's exactly what he loved about you. He was going to break you.

Even as he pushed you onto the marbel sink, large hands prying your thighs apart and he could practically smell your arousal− saliva pooling in his mouth. God, he needed to taste you. Right now.

And he did− thumb sliding your panties to the side as his tongue licks a fat stripe up your cunt, savouring your bitter sweet taste on his eager tongue. The tip of his tongue gently circled your swollen clit, your hands clawing at the smooth marble as you arch further into his mouth− only to be put back in place as he presses down on your lower tummy, looking up at you from between your legs, his saliva and your slick coating his chin as he peers up at you with those beautiful, brown eyes that held jealousy, lust and most importantly− so much love and adoration for you. The look in his eyes let you know that this was indeed, the man you fell in love with. The sweet, caring Ken−

Your thoughts got cut off by him slipping his tongue into your hole, groaning lowly at the taste− his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs; rough and calloused from his ruthless years of jujutsu. He'd never get tired of your addicting taste on his skilled tongue, it was almost like dopamine to him− the feeling of your clit throbbing against his tongue as he slurped everything you had to offer. "god, could never get tired of this pussy," he groaned lowly into your cunt, the vibrations from his gravelly voice against your sensitive core made your head spin− how was he so fucking good at this? Every time felt like the first time with him and you loved it− you both did, really.

He loved how your thighs trembled pathetically as he blew on your clit, two thick fingers slipping in to massage your inner walls. His tongue lapping and sucking softly on your little bud before biting it gently, laughing cruelly when you tried to close your thighs around his head. "darling, you're only making things worse for yourself," he sighed calmly before brutally cracking a hand down on your inner thigh, making the soft flesh jiggle and sting as you let out a pained yelp, a fresh wave of tears gathering in your pitiful eyes.

"s' mean.." you sniffled, timidly wiping your tears with the back of your hand, broken gasps emitting from your mouth as he lands soft slaps on your pussy, webs of slick sticking to his fingers as they collide with your aching cunt. "didn't you want this?" He scoffed, two fingers spreading your lips apart and licking his lips at your hole clenching on nothing as it gushed more of your sweet essence− pooling on the fancy marble. "wanted to be taught a lesson− and fucked stupid? huh?" he swiftly landed two spanks right on your clit− a loud cry leaving your mouth and he glared at you with those brown− almost fully black now eyes, effectively getting you to quiet down. You didn't want to see what happens if you angered him further. You honestly didn't expect him to be this rough.

But you couldn't get yourself to complain when he flipped you around, taking his beloved tie off and binding your hands behind you− tight. He easily picked you up and pushed you against the door once again, face smushed against the high quality wood as he pushed your panties down to your knees in one fluid motion− quickly lining up with your entrance before pushing the fat tip in, making the both of you let out quiet moans. Your nails were digging into the sweaty palms of your hand at this point− yelping in surprise when he grabbed your hair and yanked your face to the side before enveloping your parted lips in a kiss. The kiss was much sweeter and gentle compared to his borderline brutal thrusts− a perfect balance, if you will.

Your ass recoiled with each slam of his hips against it, nasty squelching sounds filling the walls as you tried your very best to stay quiet. But unfortunately for you, your husband wasn't having any of that. Instead of shushing and telling you to keep quiet− he encouraged you to be louder− to scream his name until your lungs burned. He wanted you to be so damn loud so that fucker Satoru would know that you're his− that you're Kento's and he would make sure of it.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag II

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You go hiking

When Mama returns to Sweden after her season ends, you go on more hikes. You go on hikes a lot anyway with Mummy and Jordan but you go out on more with Mama.

It's summer when Mama comes home so you get to take your basket out to forage.

Mummy's been foraging with you for ages now. She's very smart and Jordan's very good at finding the best truffle mushrooms. Mama's not quite as good as Mummy but that's okay because she's learning just like you.

You can learn together.

You're up on Mama's shoulders right now as Mummy lets Jordan loose off his leash at the edge of the forest.

"Got everything, squish?" She asks you," Because this is the last time we can go back to get something if you've forgotten it."

You shake your head. "Got everything, Mummy."

"Good girl."

Mama walks for a while before letting you down and instantly, you're hurrying up the path to catch up with Jordan.

"Squish!" Mummy calls out," Slow down, please."

"Okay, Mummy." You slow down and Jordan waits for you to catch up before walking by your side, bumping against you occasionally as his tail wags.

His snout goes down out of nowhere and he's running off the path like a shot. You follow after him and you can hear the thunderous steps of Frida and Emma behind you.

When they finally catch up to you both, you're gently placing truffles into your basket as Jordan wags his tail proudly.

"Good boy," Emma says to him," Who's a good boy? Is it you? Yeah! Of course it is!"

Frida crouches next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple now that she's found you safe. She knows you know your way around this forest like the back of your hand but seeing you off the path still scared her a little.

"Jordan found truffles," You tell Frida," He's the best boy!"

Frida laughs a little. "The best boy for the best little girl," She says warmly and your cheeks go a little pink at the praise.

"Squish," Emma calls you over," Why don't you show Mama about the tracking I taught you?" She points at a singular paw print in the mud. "Can you tell me what kind of animal that is?"

You study it.

It's got a big rear pad and five toes capped off with a long claw mark on each.

"Badger," You answer," We shouldn't go that way. Badgers are mean to dogs sometimes. We don't want Jordan getting hurt."

"Good girl," Emma says, laying a kiss to your head," Can you lead us to the thicket?"

The thicket is your favourite place in the forest. It's got lots of berry bushes perfect for baking into pies and making jam.

You could make your way there in your sleep and Jordan can too so you both take the lead as Mummy and Mama follow a few steps behind.

The thicket is full of ripe berries and the three of you get to work picking them all.

You stumble a little though, reaching for one of the high-up berries and Mama shrieks.

Frida hurries to pick you up, cradling you close even as your brow furrows in confusion.

"Mama?" You say," What's wrong?"

Frida doesn't have much time to calm her beating heart as she sets you down, pointing at the plant you nearly fell into. "That's a stinging nettle, Squish," She says," If you fall into it, it'll hurt a lot."

Your brows shoot up in fear. "Really, really bad?"

Frida knows she's exaggerating but she can't help it. She nods. "Really, really bad."

"And I'll hurt forever?!" You look at the plant in horror.

"Not quite," Emma steps forward to explain," This, here, is a dock leave. If you scrunch it up and put it on your stings it'll make it all better."

Frida nods along before grabbing another plant nearby. "And this is jewelweed. It works better than a dock leaf but it's a little harder to find."

"Dock leaf, jewelweed and stinging nettle," You repeat," Okay."

After that incident, Frida hovers near you for the rest of your berry picking and absolutely refuses to let you walk home so you spend the rest of the hike on her shoulders.

Emma helps you change into your apron when you get home and gives you the very important job of washing the blackberries while she grabs the pastry you made earlier.

"Mama!" You giggle as Frida flicks you with water before lifting you up to sit on the counter so you can pour the berries into the pie.

"What?" Frida teases," I didn't do anything?" She flicks you with water again and you shriek with laughter.

Emma watches you both fondly as she puts the pie into the oven to bake. "Alright, silly girls," She says," Pie is in. Hand washing now and then nap time."

You pout, bottom lip jutting out. "Stay up please, Mummy!"

"Yeah, Emma!" Frida agrees," Let us stay up!"

Emma laughs, kissing Frida softly before layering kisses all over your cheeks. "An hour nap while the pie bakes or my silly girls will turn into grumpy girls and we all know grumpy girls don't get pie after dinner."

That does it for you and you raise your arms up for someone to help you down.

"Nap time now!"

[st4rbwrry]

STICKY ☆ eren yeager.

☆. warnings ~ 2.8k. fem!reader, black coded, self pleasure, eren gives us a massage w oil, blowjob, dj on the clit, unedited, kissing, praise, pet names dnt feel like listing, vulgar language, teasing, mention of cycle, dry humping, titty sucking, neck kisses, minors do not interact! reblogs & comments are appreciated.

because this just happened to me and i had no choice but to write it. but imagine eren giving you a full body rub down massage with some shea butter scented baby oil while the two of you watch crime documentaries on netflix. it’s playing soundlessly in the background while the two of you lay comfortably on the black velvet sectional sofa in your cozy studio apartment. it’s raining outside, nighttime nearing. your home smells like salted lemon meringue pie; a candle eren bought for you because he said it reminded him of you.

warm, soft, and sweet. the two of you are cuddling together on the long part of the couch, eren completely pressed up against your left side slowly rubbing your ass in circles under your fuzzy pink blanket. you’re so into your show, sipping on a can of mango arizona, only dressed in an oversized anime tshirt and a pair of pink lace panties printed with hearts that matched the bralette underneath your shirt. he can’t stop touching you. leaning his head on your shoulder, his legs spread out in his gray sweats before his hands sink lower under your blanket to knead into the soft flesh of your hips. delicately working his way up your spine with the points of his thumbs to rub out any tense muscles. you can’t help but giggle at his move, smiling into your hair and biting your lip the higher his hands rise.

massaging your back, hands slipping underneath your bralette as he chews on his pouty lips and scrunch his eyebrows in a focused manner. intent on making you feel good. he knows you’ve been working hard so your body’s been a bit heavy. and you’re dreading heading to work tomorrow morning. so he wanted to ease that stress, as well as the hard-on he’d gotten in his sweats just from the faint moans falling past your pretty lips.

“take this off,” his voice his deep, sultry in its tone and he can’t help it. it drips off his tongue like honey. touching you has his body on fire.

dropping your phone you had picked up to check a text from your best friend, you do as he says, lifting your shirt so you’re left only in your cute lingerie set. eren stands to his full height and clears his throat as he fixes his dick in his sweats. he had to mentally remind himself that you’re ending your cycle and you aren’t really in the mood to have sex. but fuck you’re making it hard looking and sounding like that. you stare with a mischievous grin, following him as he walks towards your bathroom to find your body oil. he comes back, pushing your coffee table back so he can crouch on the floor before you.

“c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

and you’re doing just that. snuggling a neon pink easter bunny plushie close to your face for leverage. eren hums to himself, eyeing your backside as he squirts oil into his big palm and massages them together before rubbing your body down gently. he’s targeting every curve, muscle, tense area. heavy hands gliding across your brown skin with ease. he even uses his forearms and elbows to get those spots like a real masseuse. you’re moaning from how good it feels, shifting in your spot.

eren notices a inconvenience and says. “i need this off too, babe.”

he’s referring to your bralette. you laugh lightly, making a comment about how he’s trying to be nasty when you told him no. he says he promises it isn’t like that. both of you knowing damn well that it’s like that. throughout your princess treatment that you were grateful for, needing it so bad, eren begins to get bold. rubbing his palms over your ass and thick thighs, and then in between. this is torture for you considering your period was a big cockblock. she’s ending but you’re in that spotting phase that goes on and off. and you didn’t have time to check before his little teaser. your hormones were everywhere. being away from him for a full week, no dick, no head, eren’s consistent fucking with you knowing you can’t do anything . . . it’s all pent up. you needed a release so bad. and he’s playing games right now. slyly pulling your underwear down, eren saying ‘relax’ when you get too antsy before rolling and kneading your ass cheeks.

“erenn, stop,” his name comes out airy. your face is planted flat into the couch as your eyes loses their focus and your lower halve begins to ache.

“you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

and he’s fucking right, you really don’t. you whine, twisting your ass side to side. eren chuckles and slips your panties back up, finishing with the back of your thighs giving you time to breathe with relief. until he’s back again, spreading your legs a little more so he can get into between to touch your pussy. long fingers rushing over your clothes clit, fabric becoming damper from your uncontrolled arousal. how could he make something so intimate instantly nasty? the man can’t focus on one task. his brain switches like a fuse. hissing to himself, he rubs your hardened clit in circles, taking his time, not wanting to get you too riled up. he couldn’t fuck you after all.

your face curls up in pleasure, breathing his name again, your hair covering your view of his face. hips grinding against his hand and gripping your plushie tighter. he smacks your ass a few times, loves to watch it bounce even in the dark living room you currently reside in. eren drags his right hand up your entire backside before placing it on the back of your neck to choke you, not too hard, just enough to hold you still. he’s leaning down, bringing his face mouth to your ear and breathing like a feral animal. spanking you over and over to hear you whimper and whine. squirming in your spot with annoyance when he removes his hand from your cunt, hot and needing more attention immediately.

“okay i’m done,” he announces, rubbing the remaining oil into his own skin and smiling like a cocky bastard. you groan with irritation, shoving your face into your plushie as he stands and laughs like an asshole.

“fuck you, bro.”

“you can’t, remember.”

he’s really testing you. now is not the time to test you. he takes a seat beside you after you advert your attention back onto your show, resting your chin in your palm and purposely ignoring him. titties all out and everything. eren spreads his longs legs as wide as they go, your eyes catching the tint in his crotch. he’s got his arm thrown on the headrest of the couch, looking down at you without your knowledge just to see what you would do. he wants his dick in your mouth so bad. if your willing to do it is the question that remains. it’s not really about him right now, is what your thinking. you gave him the sloppiest head literally yesterday before he had to leave for work, cum and salvia covering your face as you gagged and sucked him off like he’d run away. attempted? definitely. he couldn’t stop moaning and squirming away. especially when you overstimulated him after he nutted, cum shooting in your left eye mind you, risking a damn pink eye for his satisfaction. and he can’t grant you this one thing? you didn’t even want him to fuck you. you just wanted him to touch you.

so you know what you do? you turn your body clockwise to face him, looking up at him as he avoids eye contact and keeps them at the projector on your wall.

“i hate you,” you start with, shifting your hips so he can watch your ass move. you touch his stomach over his hoodie, the man still dressed from earlier when the two of you ran out to get food and came back to get lazy and watch horror movies. not really horror. it was it follows, side note, horrible film.

“why?”

“because you know i can’t fuck you right now, so you’re teasing me.”

“mhm,” he tongues his inner cheek, jade eyes catching your swiftly before redirecting them back to the show. “be a good girl.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, lifting your upper body to press your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and eren immediately succumbs to you. it’s the most sensitive area on his entire body, other than his hips. he hissed and tosses his head back.

“stop,” he grumbles, but you don’t listen. rolling your neck to catch every inch of his neck with your lips. “stop.”

when he says it that time it’s stern, eren locking your neck in his grasp as he clenches his jaw, dick hard as fuck. he knocks his knees in and out, staring your pretty face down, a smile all over it. unable to contain it, he kisses you. sloppy and with tongue. your hands smoothing down to his crotch to palm the outline of his dick. eren inhales deeply, reaching between your heated thighs to rub your clit again through your panties. gasping, you lift your left leg to give him better access. grinding against his hand as he watches your face churn with contentment.

“gonna be a good girl now?” he taunts, you nod your head that now lays in the crook of his neck, moaning and kissing him still. he’s loosing his self control at this point. your tits are pressed together as you grip the back pillow of the couch and ride his hand, squealing and whimpering. your sounds take over him and he’s soon pulling his sweats to sit at his knees, heavy cock slapping at his abdomen, a clear pearl of pre sitting at the tip.

his hand swerves to the back of your neck to turn your head and push your face to his lap where his dick sat, hard and needy. honestly, your not in the mood to suck dick, your jaw going sore yesterday . . . but for your man, you’ll do anything.

“don’t care what you say,” he shifts up a little so you have better access. “suck on it.”

only your mouth encases his cock, hands clutching his hoodie, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper and suck hard just like he loves. focusing mostly on the tip because it makes him twitch and you love that reaction more than anything. love when he’s moaning ‘fuck’ or ‘fuck me, baby’ cause it makes you feel good inside. while your head bobs he continues to fuck you with his fingers, reaching inside your panties this time to toy with your clit better. eren comes to his senses and realizes if this proceeds he’s going to fuck you real bad. he swears to god he’s ready to lay a towel down and say fuck it forreal. but he knows it’s not something you’re comfortable with.

“c’mere, princess,” he speaks to you in that low, listen to me tone. you let his dick go with a sloppy pop, swallowing the remainder of spit in your mouth before leveling your face with his, batting your lashes and pushing your matted hair out the way. “do me a favor and cum for me, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” nodding your head mindlessly, eren gets lost in pleasing you again, wrapping his hand around his dick to stroke it while he finger fucks you. nothing compares to when you do it, though. you’ve ruined him, honestly. but he wants to keep it hard for you ‘cause he knows you want it after.

he notices your breath hitching, placing your hand over his when he loses his position and tries to sink his fingers in but you really want him to stay on your clit. you’re about to cum, he also knows because your burying your face in his neck and nodding frequently after he asks, “you cummin’ , princess?”’

“y-yess, m’cummin!” squeaks and mewls stream out of you and he swears it’s the prettiest thing every time you do it. eren latches his mouth back onto yours, groaning as he stops stroking his dick and shoves his tongue in your mouth. your hands have a death grip on his wrist as your thighs enclose his forearm to stop him, already sore.

“there we go, that’s my girl,” he kisses your forehead after, letting you take a moment to calm down before he’s coming up with another attack. doesn’t even give your five full minutes before he’s telling you to get up. and you sulk, whining because you don’t want to move.

“noooo,” you pout at him but he’s not hearing it, grabbing your arms and picking you up to place you on the edge of the sectional. he’s on his knees again before you, dragging you closer so your ass nearly hangs off and intertwines perfectly with his hips. “trying so hard not to fuck you.”

stretching your arms above you, you giggle like your drunk, playfully telling him to get off of you but of course he doesn’t listen. eren’s hovering his big figure above yours, bringing his head down to dart his thick tongue out and drag it slowly over your left nipple, soon latching his cotton candy lips around the bud and sucking. pulling it along as he rotates his head and moans with his eyes shut. you let him do as he pleases, always intrigued when he gets into his moments. as he’s sucking on your chest that’s when he starts grinding his hips forward to fuck against you. the bulge in his sweats rut on your clit waking it up for round two.

“fuck this,” eren makes a pained noise as he tugs his sweats down to reveal his cock again, scooting closer and sitting higher to position it right on your soaked clit he slaps with the tip a few times, dark eyes eyeing you as you bite your lip and moan like a slut from that little play.

eren’s placing your legs over his shoulders, like he loves to do, arching over you so your knees are close to your shoulders. he makes sure your thighs stay closed so the pressure on his dick feels better for friction. he begins to lick up your chest, trailing up to your neck where he laps his tongue and follows with kisses, fucking with you just like you did with him. you’re just as sensitive there. tossing your head back and moaning, gripping onto his shirt since he removed his hoodie, rolling your eyes back. and it gets worse when he starts ramming his dick like he’s actually fucking you. he’s following the bounce of your tits while he rolls his hips and fucks his dick on your sluice folds drinking in the fabric of your panties. your thighs making this feel so much fucking better. it feels good for you too.

“fuck, ma,” eren smacks the outside of your thigh, grunting and hastening his pace, skin slapping and it’s all making your mind hazy. “got me feelin’ like this without bein’ deep in your pussy.”

“erennn, you look so good,” it slips from your mouth without your own permission. you made a mental comment about how good he looks fucking you right now. long hair messy around his face, silver rings on his digits along with spiky or cuban link bracelets on his wrist. ink tatted on various parts of his body. his perfect white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he’s too fucking handsome. and he’s all yours.

“i look good, huh baby?” he chuckles between a strangled moan, brows creasing.

“unh huh,” you huff out, reaching up to caress his face in your dainty hands.

“you look fuckin’ better,” his eyes turn white as your body rolls somewhat to your right side, eren able to hit it from the side, this position constricting his dick tighter, pounding harder. “fuck, n’ it’s gonna make me nut jus’ lookin’ at you.”

“keep looking,” you bite your lip and keep your face to his, the two of you breathing in each others air. “stare at me when you cum. wanna watch your face.”

“fuck,” it’s crazy what you do to him. because not even a few seconds later he’s shooting cum right on your tummy and it’s a lot, keeps going as he shudders and keeps his eyes on yours like you wanted. he’ll bite his lip off at some point with how much force he’s applying. might even get a headache from his eyes turning white. it’s all worth it though.

you smile like you’ve made the biggest achievement, curling your hands up into a ball and planting your cheek on it, falling back with a dreamy sigh. he’s the prettiest, and he’s all yours.

“i hate you,” eren runs his hands through his hair with a deep laugh, his dick still unable to stop leaking cum. he smacks your thigh again. “fuckin’ hate you.”

“you started it.”

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Oh my ! The thirsty list is delicious! 🔥

May I requested Nanami Kento and Fem!Reader Lingerie, please? >\\\\\\\\<

Thank you !

🐾

Hello! Thank you! I tried to make it extra yummy. Do you want paw prints to be your emoji?

Lingerie

--------

You fidgeted with the lingerie you were trying on, trying to pick one from the various sets that you had hung up inside the fitting room. They all left little to the imagination, tiny bits of lace and silk that were not meant to be on your body for too long. You wondered if Kento could help you narrow down your choices and the idea immediately makes your pussy wet, the thought of him joining you inside this stall.

You quickly text him and wait. You can hear shuffling from the fitting room next to yours as some unsuspecting occupant tries on something and the hustle and bustle inside the shop with the customers and staff. You jump slightly as there's a knock on the door, followed by a deep drawl. "Open up darling."

Trembling slightly with the excitement of how he'd react upon seeing you, you crack open the door just enough for him to slip in. He squeezes his broad body inside the fitting room and locks it with a click. His eyes roam over you, becoming positively feral as the small pieces of fabric work their magic.

He stalks you slowly until your back touches the wall and he reaches out to trace a finger against the swell of your breasts which pop up invitingly thanks to the bra you're wearing.

"You look good enough to eat." His head dips near your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

"I wanted your opinion. Does this look good or oh..." A sigh leaves your mouth as he nips your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

"It looks good. They all look good. But do you know what you look best in?" He presses little kisses to your jaw before sucking the pulse point in your neck. "Absolutely nothing."

"Kento wait." You try to move but his hands grip your hips and hold you in place, his intentions clear. "Which ones should I buy?"

"All of them. I'll give you my card. All I expect in return is..." His finger hooks into the lace neckline of your bra and pulls it down, freeing your breasts, nipples already pebbled from his proximity.

"Kento not here!" You say in a hushed squeak as he takes one of the peaks into his mouth to suckle. Pleasure fills your body as his clever mouth sucks and you let out a wanton moan and immediately cover your mouth, acutely aware there's someone in the next stall.

He chuckles before letting go with a wet plop. "Why not here? It's as good a place as any."

"Someone might hear us!"

"So?" Leisurely, his hand dips down to cup your mound, rubbing your clit through the fabric.

"Kento!" You're mortified, but so pathetically turned on. "I haven't bought these! They still need to scan it at the register!"

Pretending like he didn't hear you, he continues to rub circles on the bud, and your will crumbles. You try and fail to contain the moan that leaves your mouth and Kento grins at your reaction.

"That's it...cum for me. Let everyone here know you're not alone." The lewd words said so sinfully have you crashing, your climax hitting hard, the panties soaked with your arousal as your pussy spams gratifyingly from orgasm.

Without wasting a second, Kento spins you around and your front comes in contact with the wall as he pushes the crotch of the panties to the side and slides his cock into your wetness. You walls clench around him and he grunts, a low crunchy noise, as he starts rutting into you.

Your restraint snaps and you unashamedly moan out your desire, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the small space of the fitting room.

That's it...nice and loud. Let everyone know you're getting properly fucked." His hips stutter and he pants, slamming into you then with a moan, he empties his balls into you, his sticky cum filling your cunt. He pulls out and lets the panties slide back into place.

The panties were utterly ruined, you knew that as you took them off to put your clothes back on. "You realize I have to buy these now?"

"Of course my love. We already got our money's worth out of them after all. Besides," he adds with a wicked grin. "I can't wait to see you carrying that set to the checkout counter and handing them over to to be scanned while they're soaked with my cum."

He laughs as you flush red.

[ddejavvu]

you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like

:O what have you done :O

and you're like

idk

and hes just like heart eyes

bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy

MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS

--

Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.

You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.

There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.

"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.

"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."

"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"

"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"

It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.

"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."

You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"

"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."

Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.

"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."

You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.

"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"

"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.

""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."

"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."

"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."

"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."

Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.

"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."

"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"

"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.

"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."

"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"

"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"

"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."

"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"

"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."

"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.

"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."

She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.

Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"

"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)

Note: I hope you all enjoy this random idea.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

One hand guides the fabric as the other turns the wheel. Your work is slow but steady, every stitch perfect, every seam precise. Your fare may be modest and your product simple, but its quality cannot be contested. Your labour as yourself is honest and plain.

The noise of the machine is your only company. The one-room shop nestled behind the butcher’s rarely sees a customer through its door. Instead, the orders are sent from the factories, returned with the printed adverts you disperse outside their doors. The writs are sent along with an envelope of pence and shilling and you complete each with equal diligence before sending them back bundled in paper and twine.

The operation isn’t especially fruitful but the profit is enough to subsist. Enough to guarantee your independence; a small apartment just above and a pot of stew to last you through each week. This humble existence is preferable to any marriage you’ve witnessed. 

The letters from your sisters reaffirm your spinster’s fate. You’d rather a hand wheel and a needle than a brood and broken back. A husband seems to provide several jobs at once, you’ll happily settle for one.

As your hands work from memory and your head wanders from tedium, the bell above the door gives a single sharp toll. You ease the wheel to a halt and leave the seam unfinished. You peer up above the black iron machine, reminding yourself to fix your hunch as a client enters. You can’t but wonder if he may have come to the wrong shop.

By his attire, he is a class above the factory women who require gray skirts and simple stays. His waistcoat is embroidered and his jacket is pressed and clean. He is tall, locks part tidily so his curls lay gracefully. His face is fresh-shaven, square jaw with a cleft, and shoulders broad and strong. He does not share the same sinewy gauntness as the labourers with the coal-dusted noses.

He carries a fine leather bag. Another clue to his status. His shoes, another. Polished and without creases.

You stand to greet him, “good afternoon, sir. Might I help you with something?”

His answer is not prompt. He takes in the finished dresses hung by the east wall and turns to examine the rolls of wool and cotton. At last, he returns his attention to you.

“Afternoon,” his deep timbre fills the small space, “you are the dressmaker.”

It isn’t a question, but you answer, “I am.”

He narrows his eyes as he approaches your desk, the sole fixture in the space. From without, the shop is just as bare. The blackened windows offer not insight into the business, its only suggestion the sign hung above the door, though the paint requires a fresh coat.

“And the shop owner?”

“That is me as well, sir,” you assert. The presumption is not uncommon.

“Ah,” he accepts your explanation without comment, “so, you will have sewn this.”

He puts his bag on the desk, nearly knocking your shears from the corner. You try not to flinch as they teeter near the edge and he pulls open the top of the leather bag. He pulls out a swath of grey. You recognise it and he rolls the cuff to show your initials sewn within.

“Sir,” you say precariously, “is there some issue with it? Is it your wife’s dress?”

“Wife? No, no,” he dismisses, feeling the fabric between his fingers, “rather I am in search of the dress’s owner. The initial must belong to them, yes? So you would have a name for the buyer.”

“Mm, no, those are mine,” you point at the letters, “as it is my handiwork.”

“That makes sense,” he frowns in disappointment. “So you wouldn’t know who would wear it?”

You rub your chapped lips together. You find your tongue sliding over them often when you work, turning them raw with the habit. The man’s lips are rosy and smooth, as well-kempt as the rest of him. He is no factory worker’s husband.

“I might… would you take it out?” You ask.

He obliges as you pluck up the metal cylinder from your desk and unfurl the tape measure from within. He shakes out the dress, holding it by the shoulders to reveal salt stains along the skirts and unleashing a dingy smell in the shop. You wiggle your nose at the stench but worse roils in from the butcher’s on hot days.

You take the measure of the sleeves and the waist, then to the hem. You scribble the numbers on a scrap and take that to compare with your ledger. The measurements are in now way defining but might narrow it down. He keeps the dress aloft and you return to him to check the thread along the seams. A few months ago, you changed the thickness as the factory workers complained of splits under the arms.

“Hm, it is a recent purchase,” you assure him and return to the ledge. 

He lowers the dress and approaches. You snap the book closed and turn your face up to consider him once more, “why do you need to know, if it is not your wife?”

“You are very discerning,” he remarks as he folds the dress and drapes it over his bag, “I’m certain then you can surmise the woman who wore this dress did not meet a kind fate.” He tugs up the hem and shows a tear trimmed in scarlet, the colour not obvious from a distance. “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I’m a detective and I’m trying to identify a poor woman found not far from here. I believe it is in your own interest that I discover her assailant.”

“I cannot say for certain which she is,” you turn over the scrap and re-open the ledger. You write down three names which match the measurements and hold the paper out to him. He takes it, his thick fingertips brushing yours. “Those are the ones which align with the dress.”

“Mm,” he hums as he tucks the paper into his chest pocket, “and your name? I couldn’t make it out on the sign.”

You recite your name flatly, “it isn’t on the sign.”

“It requires new paint,” he admonishes, “I could hardly find you.”

“I am aware,” you reply. “Thank you for noting.”

He’s quiet, “being a detective, however, I did indeed put together the clues.”

Is he making a joke? You cannot tell. He folds up the dress completely and puts it back in the leather bag. The smell persists.

“What are you prices?” He asks abruptly.

“Sir, I sew dresses for factory women, sometimes a few communion pieces, but I’m afraid I don’t do much suit work.”

“My sister requires a dress,” he sniffs, “as simple as it is, I can see your work is fine.”

“I have only wools and cottons,” you counter.

“Do you always turn away business?” He challenges.

“I wasn’t, sir, I’m only clarifying what I currently do. My prices are set for those fabrics,” you explain.

“I will pay for the muslin and velvet,” he waves his hand staunchly, “you will be paid for your labour. Can you sew with more than wool and cotton?”

“I can, sir, but you could find a ready-made dress in a market boutique if the dress is required promptly.”

“I can afford the time and coin,” he insists. “You are not a talented advertiser, are you?”

You’re taken aback by his bluntness. Often, his ilk have that demeanour. It’s why you’d rather the factory workers and the fish sellers’ wives.

“I suppose not,” you agree, “I would need measurements before I begin. You may send the numbers along with the fabric, then. And I would require a style. Perhaps your sister is a purveyor of fashion magazines?”

“I will send a messenger,” he shrugs. “Thank you for your time. I shan't get in your way any longer.”

“Good day, sir.”

“Good day to you,” he takes the bag from your desk and the shears fall to the floor with a clatter.

You skirt around to grab them as he bends and swipes them up first. You recoil as he closes the blades with a snap. He examines them before placing them back on the desk.

“Apologies,” he says, “and miss,” he looks at you, “take to heart what I’ve told you today. Keep away from the allies and perhaps you may consider locking your door.”

“Thank you, sir, your concern is appreciated.”

“Rather you might just keep those close, eh,” he points to the shears and his cheek dimples.

Again, you can’t be certain of his humour. You keep a placid expression, neither smiling nor scowling. He clears his throat and runs his hand down his jacket, gripping the lapel.

“Very well then, I’ll be off.”

He turns on his heel and marches to the door. You stay by the desk as the bell rings with his departure. Once the door closes, you cross the shop. You turn the lock into place, his foreboding lingering with the stale scent of dirty water.

🪡

Despite the unusual visit, your days roll on like a hand on a clock. The thought of the woman’s tragic fate looms like a shadow but fades. You have too much stitching to do to fret over that man and his ominous words. You assume his interest in your work thereafter was wholly feigned as he does not return.

That day, you pass off six parcels to Eustace, the driver who takes them down to the stacks to hand off to the floor bosses who will parse them out to the women they’ve been cut for. You pay him his toll before he climbs back into the seat of his cart, his horse kicking impatiently.

“Excuse me, sir,” another driver clops up along the other side of the street, a narrow squeeze between the slanting buildings. “I’m in search of a dressmaker. I believe the store is tucked behind the butcher’s and…” the man’s voice drifts off as his eyes flit to the meat sellers marquee.

“Right here, good sir,” Eustace responds, “wouldn’t ya know, she’s right here.”

You lift your chin to see past the cart and spy the driver. He removes his cap as his gaze meets yours. Eustache dips his chin as he adjusts his own hat and snaps his old mare into a canter. As you're left alone with the carriage driver, a vehicle rather lofty for a block like this, you fold your hands behind you.

“Sir, you hardly look in need of a work woman’s dress,” you say.

“Miss,” he ties the reins off and jumps down from his seat, “I am sent for you, not a dress.”

“For me?” You echo.

“Mr. Holmes has sent,” he crosses the muck and nearly slips. “He said he made an appointment for a seamstress.”

“An appointment? I wasn’t informed of the time,” you rebuff. “I’ve a shop to run, orders paid for. I can’t simply leave.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Holmes made mention of a fee,” the man feels around his striped coat, “he said a deposit would be needed.”

He takes out a brown envelope and hands it over. You take it, a small weight within. You look at the driver before you pull back the flap and peek inside. A large gold sovereign sits in the corner of the paper; a whole pound. That’s at least three days work.

You hold your breath, trying to maintain some composure. If that’s the deposit, what is he offering for the rest? You slip out the folded paper within, a page torn from a fashion journal. The dress is elegant if not extravagant. You don’t often do off-the-shoulder or ruffles like that but it isn’t beyond your skill.

You fold the flap closed again and lift your chin to face the driver, “I must lock up, you see?”

“Take your time, miss,” he says kindly. “Mr. Holmes isn’t expecting you to hurry.”

“Thank you, sir,” you bow your head and turn away.

You measure your steps along the facade of the butcher’s shop and curl around to the alleyway. You let yourself into your shop and tuck the envelope into your apron pocket. You take your sewing bag from under the desk and shake off the dust. You don’t often have reason to use it.

You open it up and pack away your shears, a measuring tape, pins with a cushion, your notebook, and a few other bits and bobs. Just in case. You grab a role of linen from against the wall. It’s heavy but you can manage.

You take the key from your desk drawer and switch off the overhead light. You lock the door and continue back out to the street. The driver puffs smoke from a pipe as he waits.

“Miss, allow me,” he snuffs out the pipe and puts it in his pocket. He nears and reaches for the roll of linen.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” you say.

“I insist, miss, can’t have a lady doing all that,” he takes it, not forcefully, and you let him.

As he goes to the carriage and opens the door, you give pause. You don’t know if you should be so easily swayed on a gold coin. Mr. Holmes hadn’t been entirely pleasant and you do prefer your simple work. Still, you can hardly turn your nose up at a pound. Not with the summer fizzling to a finale.

You lift your skirts and cross the street to the open carriage, “sir, might I have a name?”

“Gavin,” he answers, “and I have yours. Mr. Holmes made sure of it.”

“Yes, very good,” you say as you approach, another sliver of doubt trickling through. Mr. Holmes claimed to be a detective but is that really the reason he was strolling around with a dead woman’s dress? You gulp and look at Gavin then the carriage, “might I keep the window open?”

“Surely you can,” he agrees amiably. “Mr. Holmes lives quite a ways, shouldn’t mind the air. I’ll be certain to stay away from the stacks.”

“Thank you, sir,” you accept his proffered hand and he helps you up into the carriage. 

You settle on the bench as the door shuts and you open the window from within. You lean back, your hand grasping the top of your bag. You unclasp it as you feel Gavin climb up on the driver’s seat. You dip your hand inside and clutch your long shears.

You don’t forget all of what Mr. Holmes said.

[aliidarling]

i’ve been playing the og silent hill 2 and it’s SO fun guys. i’m almost done w/the apartment complex part, i’m so excited to meet maria :3

JAMES SUNDERLAND x fem!reader

— nsfw content

summary; after your car breaks down, you find yourself in need of help and shelter. a town near by, silent hill, catches your attention and you end up running into an older man who’s name is james.

warnings: smut, p in v, soft sex, pathetic james, mary is mentioned a bit, he’s a bad person, unprotected sex, praise, fingering, slightly dub-con because he’s kinda imagining mary but it’s completely consensual, low-key up to you wether he imagined mary or you

the streets were foggy, a thick cloud of mystery blocking your view. your steps echoed throughout the empty town, sending goosebumps down your spine, a frown tugging at your lips. you couldn’t even remember why you were here—

ah, that’s right, your car had run down while you were driving near by and now you were on a search for a hotel or motel, desperate for a place to crash. normally, you’d sleep in your car, but it was far too cold for that. the snow was coming down without any warning, coating your surroundings in a thick coat of white.

so far you hadn’t seen or heard anything from this small town. you had seen the signs, the title itself giving you an eerie feeling. silent hill, you thought, sounds like something out of a horror movie.

a small thud comes from behind you and you whip around, looking towards the source. you manage to spot a young girl quickly running behind one of the buildings into a dark alley way, sending a wave of uneasiness over you. a young girl in a town like this, by herself? that couldn’t be good.

“hey!” you called out, running after her the best you could. wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt, you quickly realized. you struggled to catch up with her, quickly loosing her due to the fog. but her footsteps stayed, a clear print in the snow following her figure. you sighed tiredly and patted your chest, regaining your breath. the temperature was gaining an advantage on you.

right as you finally regained your energy and was gonna continue your search for the little girl, a male voice from behind you had you jumping in shock and turning around quickly. the mysterious man wasn’t too tall, with a lean physique and a dark green jacket. he didn’t have a menacing aura, if anything, he seemed like a soaked cat.

“hello?” he says hesitantly, keeping a distance from you. his brows furrow as he scans you, an unsure glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read. he seemed troubled, stressed more then the average person.

“..hello?” you say back, almost hesitantly. you step back, hugging yourself as the snow falls onto your hair. you gently blow a few snowflakes out of your breath. he fiddled with his fingers as he frowned, giving you a small nod.

“i’m james.. i’m looking for my wife, mary.” he says quietly, his voice soft. your posture relaxes slightly at his words, looking him up and down. he seemed the opposite of a potential threat, if anything, he’d need saving from any dangers.

“uhm. sorry, i haven’t seen any women.” you mumble, looking around. it was complete silence, giving you a feeling of discomfort. you wanted out of this town as fast as possible.

“uhm, yeah —well, she has brown hair, brown eyes, pretty—“ he rambled nervously, stepping forward. your lips press together as he displays his obvious distress.

“what’s your wife doing in a town like this?” you tilt your head in question, glancing at his features. gentle stubble, tired eyes, dirty blonde hair and firm brows. handsome. a little pathetic looking. like he’d cry easily.

“she.. don’t worry about that.” he sighs, preparing to turn away. you panic momentarily and step forward hurriedly, tugging at his sleeve with a tugged scowl. “my car broke down near by and i have no where to go. can i stay with you, please? this place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

he stares down at you in confusion, glancing at the way your hand tugs at his sleeve and how hopeful you look. he’s not a horrible person, he reminds himself, he should at least help this young girl out.

“yeah, sure.” he sighs.

a few hours had passed and you find yourself growing some sort of attachment to this older man. he’s attractive, kind, sweet and gentle— what more could you want? he’s blissfully unaware of the way you’ve devoted yourself to him, the way you give him the same look a puppy would give its owner when you’re walking behind him.

your hand is always holding his cuff, too scared to let go. the fog was too thick, you feared if you let your gaze drift for a mere second you’d never see the man again. the wind was starting to pick up now. you both were walking inside the abandoned apartments when he spoke up.

“you look like her, you know.” he says quietly, looking towards you. there was a permanent sad expression on his face that ached your heart. such a pretty face, always frowning.

“your wife?” you say softly, looking up at him. he nods silently and you look back down at yourself, wondering if that meant you were his type. did he think you were pretty? you hoped he did.

“same face and smile, same voice.” he mutters, lifting a hand to gently pet your hair. you smile softly as he runs his fingers through your locks, his eyes glued to the way your hair glistened.

“she seemed lovely.” you attempt.

he offers a weak smile of gratitude.

the town was slowly trapping you two. the fog was getting worse and more thick, the wind singing a lullaby to drift you towards the darkness. you didn’t like it one bit, you didn’t like how the sun started to set and how the noises of the undead increased.

your hands clutched james sleeve cautiously. he frowns and turns to you slightly as you two walk down the street, a bat in his hand with a thick log in yours, you both had found the makeshift weapons in the apartment complex from a few hours back.

“you okay?” he rasps, giving you a worried look. your brows were furrowed with fear as you shook your head, glancing around you at the over-grown trees and the broken windows of shops.

“can we find somewhere to stay for the night? i don’t want to be here when, you know.. it’s dark.” you gulp hard.

he opens his mouth to protest for just a second before his thoughts flick back to the apartment complex, to the large pyrmaid-headed man who attacked you both, who disappeared mysteriously— who wielded a huge execution blade. a vivid image of you being slaughtered by said blade flash through his mind and he shudders, turning to you with a small nod.

“we passed a motel earlier.” he suggests, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you in the direction. you happily follow, resisting the urge to curl into his warmth. days of being by yourself without any warm bodies has you craving this old man you’ve never met before.

“sounds good.” you smiled.

the motels were run down and the rooms were cold. the bed was full of dust, the corners of the room filled with insects and the bulbs flickering. it wasn’t the most comforting place you could be in but it wasn’t the worst, you were grateful you had at least a place to stay.

the mattress creaks underneath your weight as you shift, looking at the brown walls. james shakes the blanket roughly, the dust flying off and into your nose. you cough and he looks at you with an awkward expression, feeling stupid. he mutters a small apology and you give him a little nod, coughing lowly.

he sets the blanket back down and pats the pillows, brushing off the crumbs of who knows. the sound of the fabric wrinkling fills the dark room. you glance at the window and the foggy streets outside of your small room, the dark clouds and the empty parking lot for the motel. you wondered if this place was ever a popular town where people visited often.

he exhales. “you want left side or right?”

you peer over at the bed, blinking slowly.

“ermm, i don’t mind. right?” you say hesitantly. he nods and sits down on his side, stretching his arms momentarily before pulling off his shoes. you keep your staring subtle as he straightens his legs and lays on top of the blanket, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes are glued to the crumbling ceiling, his breath slow.

another creak comes from the mattress as you settle down next to him, keeping a respectable distance. you decide against crawling under the sheets, not wanting to know what lays underneath. a quick glance towards him makes you squirm uncomfortably, your body shiver at the cold. your shoes are kicked off by the edge of the bed frame, thankfully your hoodie is warm enough to give you a small sense of warmth.

silence fills the air. it’s quiet, but if you listen closely you can hear both of your breaths and sound of the harsh winds outside. the snow is getting worse and it’s only growing colder and colder. you shiver.

“james?” you whisper.

“yeah?” he responds breathlessly, surprised you’re speaking to him. his voice is rushed, almost like he’s scared he’ll forget what to say. he’s nervous around you, anxious.

“uhm,” you start hesitantly, “mary.. what happened to her?”

he struggles to answer for a moment, feeling his stomach churn at the reminder of his late wife. he missed mary, he missed her warmth and how she used to hold him at night. her soft voice still echoes in his head at night, haunting him for the unforgivable act he had committed to her.

“she got sick.” he forces out, his own words feeling bitter in his tongue. he tells himself in his head that she passed away in her sleep, that he awoke one day from deep slumber and got a call from the hospital, that he had nothing to do with it—. but the small voice in the back of his head knows better.

“she had skin cancer. fatal. only had a few months to live.” his eyes drift towards you and takes in your facial expression. how it softens and you gaze at him in sympathy, sympathy he doesn’t deserve. you were too sweet, too gullible. why were you even sleeping in the same bed with a man you just met?

“i’m so sorry.” you say under your breath, offering a look of sorrow. the thought of this gentle man losing his wife sounded horrible to you. he seemed loving, the type of husband who wouldn’t think twice about walking the seven seas for his wife. in a way, he was. here he was, in silent hill, looking for his wife. you respected that.

“it’s okay. she died three years ago.” he sighed heavily, turning to face you fully. your eyes widen in shock as he states the loss of his wife. why was he here then? looking for a dead woman? his lips tug up into a dry smile at the sight of your confused face and huffs quietly.

“i’m not crazy. i swear.” he hums, lifting a hand to gently lift a hair strand off your face. your heart flutters at the touch, watching as he gently twirls your lock with his finger before letting it lay back on your head by your ear. your big eyes blink at him, he blinks back.

“i don’t think you’re crazy.” you state softly.

he raises a brow in question.

“you’re just hopeful.”

his breath hitches at your statement. he can’t help but realize how young and bright you really are, you still have that light in your eyes he lost three years ago. what he would do for a night of happiness.

he slowly inches closer, eyes drifting down to your soft lips. they look just like hers. soft and plump, bottom lip slightly bigger then upper lip, a baby pink. he can’t help but imagine if you’d taste like her too. she tasted like peaches.

his movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and neither does his lingering gaze on your lips. your breath slows as he slowly leans in, one hand going to gently cup your soft cheek. he holds you carefully, scared he would break you if he squeezed too hard. like a fragile vase. you were so fragile in his arms.

“are you gonna kiss me?” you exhale shakily, looking as the man props himself on top of you with lust-filled stare.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles softly, running his finger down your cheek before letting it brush against your bottom lip, letting it tug slightly before he resumes his spit on your cheek.

“you could never hurt me, james.”

if only he could tell you how wrong you were.

as his lips press against yours, he concludes that you don’t taste like peaches, but more like blueberries. a deep midnight blue that exploded over him, tainting his clothes as you weakly tug him closer. your soft moan sends a shiver down his spine as he whines against your lips, pressing his body against yours.

you moan his name as he parts his lips from you, making him groan lowly at the sound of your voice. he wasted no time and smashes his lips back against yours, swallowing your erotic noises and letting them fall down into his crotch. he pressed his hips against yours and shuddered instantly, almost jolting at the friction.

he hadn’t feel the touch of another woman in years. now don’t get him wrong, he fisted his cock almost every day, he had a high sexual drive but with no one to help him(anymore.) he tries not to feel embarrassed as he rocks his clothed dick against you, whimpering into your neck like horny teenager.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he rambled with eyes squeezed shut, hissing as your warm thighs wrap around his waist to tug him closer. he could probably finish in his boxers if he continued, he knew he was pathetic enough to be capable. but he wanted to feel you, and that made him feel so guilty. did he even deserve you? after comparing you to mary countless times and exploiting your innocence?

“i-it’s okay, please— james,” you moan. his hands dig into your waist before they start wandering your smaller body, placing themselves around the waistband of your shirt. he gives you a pleading look, bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“please, i need you so bad. i’m so sorry.” he whines, his voice shaky. you gasp at his words, a small yelp leaving you as he tugs your skirt down roughly and reveals your panties to the motel rooms dusty air. you were glad you had put on one of your newer pairs instead of those older ones in the back of your closet.

your eyes widen in shock as he wastes no time to pull your panties to the side, the cold air brushing against your pussy shamelessly. your nipples harden underneath your hoodie and you whine weakly, lips squirming. you needed friction.

“you’re so wet.” he mutters to himself in amazement, running his finger across your lower lips and circling your hole lightly, admiring the slickness and how you clench around nothing, eagerly waiting to suck him in. his eyes are glued to your body as he slowly sinks his finger into you till his knuckle, relishing in your soft sigh.

“s’for you.” you coo softly, fluttering your lashes at him. he inhales deeply and nods, mumbling something under his breath as he wiggles his finger. he feels a particular gummy spot inside your warm insides towards the back that has you immediately clenching down and he groans, remembering how mary used to reacted to his touch. you both were so similar that it was killing him inside.

he pushes his finger pad against you harshly as he connects his lips with your clit, gently sucking your bundle and nerves and making you feel like you’re on fire. you whine needingly at the pleasure shooting through your body as your feet dig into the creaky mattress, small moans leaving your throat. he hums into your pussy, not separating, set on making you orgasm on his face. he wants to taste you.

a few more sucks and slow rubs against your inner walls has you clamping down and jolting underneath him, feeling the knot in your tummy snap and release all over his mouth and fingers. a thin sticky coat of cum covers his fingers, little drops falling from his chin. he pulls away with a low sigh, licking your juices from his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you. your breath hitches at the movement of his tongue around his slender fingers, watching how he lapped your cum and swallowed it down. you whimpered softly for him.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you take in the sight of him kneeling over you, unzipping his jeans and shrugging off his dark jacket, letting it drop to the corner of the mattress. he positions himself above you, caging you in. for a man with such a soft and comforting presence, his body caging you in made you feel so small and vulnerable. his breath gently brushed against your face as he leans into your neck, humming to himself as his cock springs free.

you gulp nervously at the sight of him. he wasn’t too big, but he definitely wasn’t small. slightly above average with a pink tip, nice girth and a soft curve. he was so pretty, his pubic hair rough and growing into his v-line. you held onto him hungrily as he pushed his tip against you slightly, watching your expression and how you react to him slowly pushing inside you.

“easyyyy.” he hushed, pressing his forehead against yours to be able to watch your face morph into a blissful expression first hand, to be able to watch as you moaned at the feeling of him slowly sinking inside you. your legs subconsciously bend at the knee, curving and wrapping around his waist in a poor attempt to push him deeper.

good thing he can read your body language. his hands go to wrap around your wrists, holding you down as he presses his body more into yours, whimpering under his breath as your tight walls surrounds him. it felt like a warm hug to him, something he had missed.

small thrusts turn into deep strokes, sliding in and out of your pussy at a smooth rate. his noises are hot, guttural and raw from the depths of his throat, his face scrunched up in concentration as he hovers above you. his hips keep up its pace, a small squelching sound filling the cheap motel room. your noises are music to his ears as he groans lowly, watching his your tight pussy engulfs him so snuggly, how your breasts gently bounce as he moves his cock deeper into you— he was already addicted.

both your noises grow more consistent the longer you two go at it for, the heavy panting and the mattress creaking, the soft plap plap plap, the whispers and praises. his body stiffened as he felt his orgasm near, cock only hardening as he focused on chasing the sweet release he missed so much.

“you’re so good.” he whispers into your ear, tugging you as close as possible. you nod weakly and rake your hands through his ashy hair, tugging at the strands weakly. his tip smushes against your cervix and you whine into his ear, pleading for him to make you cum. he listens, reaching a down down for your clit, rubbing tight circles as you clamp down on him and cum all over his cock. he gasps meekly at the sensation of getting his dick even more wet, cumming himself.

his load is warm as he shoots it into you, his head immediately ducking for shelter in the crook of your neck. he clings onto you as he slowly comes down from the high of his orgasm, his body subtly trembling in your arms. you gently shush him, muttering small praises into his ear, rubbing your palm up and down his toned arms. your body is warm enough for him to fall sleepy. he nuzzled into you as he falls asleep, his thoughts drifting to mary. he snores softly.

[mystellenia]

giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

[navpacknprint-blog]

Top 5 Benefits of Choosing a Local Printing Press Near Me

In today’s digital age, businesses and individuals are always on the lookout for reliable printing solutions. Whether it’s for brochures, business cards, banners, or even personalized stationery, finding the right printing press can make a significant difference. While online printing services are convenient, there are distinct advantages to selecting a local printing press near me. From personalized customer service to quicker turnaround times, local options offer a wide range of benefits, particularly when it comes to digital printing services.

If you’re in Jaipur, companies like NavPack & Print offer both offset and digital printing services that cater to various business needs. So, what makes choosing a local printing press the best decision for your next project? Here are the top five benefits of going local:

1. Personalized Customer Service

One of the standout advantages of choosing a local printing press near me is the ability to receive personalized customer service. Local businesses tend to offer more face-to-face interactions, which allows you to communicate your requirements more effectively. Unlike the best online printing services, where communication is often via email or chat, local printers offer in-person consultations to ensure your needs are understood clearly.

Moreover, visiting a local printing press allows you to see samples, feel paper textures, and discuss custom designs with the experts. This personal interaction ensures that the final product aligns with your expectations, leading to higher customer satisfaction.

Read More ...

[kwalityoffsetprinters]

The Evolution of Printing: From Gutenberg to Modern Offset Printing Technology

Printing has undergone remarkable transformations since its inception. Johannes Gutenberg revolutionized the world in the 15th century with the invention of the movable type printing press. This innovation laid the foundation for the mass production of books, making literature and information accessible to the masses. Fast forward to the 20th century, the advent of offset printing brought about another significant leap in printing technology. Offset printing, unlike traditional methods, involves transferring an inked image from a plate to a rubber blanket and then onto the printing surface. This technique ensures high-quality prints with consistent results.

One of the primary advantages of offset printing is its efficiency in producing large volumes of high-quality prints at a lower cost. Offset printing is widely used in various industries, from publishing to packaging, due to its versatility and reliability. As digital technology continues to evolve, offset printing remains a cornerstone of the printing industry, blending traditional techniques with modern advancements to meet the demands of today's market.In conclusion, from Gutenberg's press to the sophisticated machines of today, the evolution of printing, particularly with the advancements in offset printing, has continually pushed the boundaries of what's possible in the world of print.

[alwaysdial]

Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency: What Makes Them the Best?

In the vibrant and rapidly evolving city of Gaya, where businesses thrive and competition is fierce, having a robust advertising strategy is paramount. At the heart of this dynamic environment stands Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency, a beacon of innovation and excellence. This article delves into the myriad reasons why this agency is considered the best in the business, offering a comprehensive look at their unique approaches, exceptional services, and the values that drive their success.

A Legacy of Excellence

Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency has been at the forefront of the advertising industry for over two decades. Their journey began with a vision to revolutionize the way businesses communicate with their audiences. Over the years, they have consistently pushed the boundaries of creativity and strategic thinking, establishing themselves as pioneers in the field.

Unmatched Expertise and Experience

One of the core strengths of Best Advertising Agency In Gaya is their team of seasoned professionals. With decades of collective experience, their experts bring a wealth of knowledge and a deep understanding of market trends. Their expertise spans across various domains, including digital marketing, traditional advertising, brand strategy, and public relations.

Innovative Campaigns That Deliver Results

Innovation is the cornerstone of Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency. They are renowned for their ability to create groundbreaking campaigns that resonate with audiences. Their approach is rooted in a thorough analysis of consumer behavior, market conditions, and emerging trends. This allows them to craft campaigns that are not only creative but also highly effective in driving engagement and conversion.

Comprehensive Range of Services

Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency offers a wide array of services designed to meet the diverse needs of their clients. Their holistic approach ensures that every aspect of a client’s advertising strategy is meticulously planned and executed.

Digital Marketing Mastery

In the digital age, having a strong online presence is crucial. Advertising company in gaya excels in digital marketing, offering services such as search engine optimization (SEO), social media marketing, content marketing, and pay-per-click (PPC) advertising. Their digital marketing strategies are tailored to enhance visibility, drive traffic, and boost conversions.

Creative Branding and Design

The agency’s creative team is adept at developing compelling brand identities. From logo design and brand messaging to comprehensive brand guidelines, they ensure that every element of a brand is cohesive and impactful. Their design services extend to creating visually stunning advertisements, websites, and marketing collateral.

Strategic Media Planning and Buying

Effective media planning and buying are critical for maximizing the reach and impact of advertising campaigns. Advertising Agency near me Gaya has established strong relationships with media outlets, ensuring that their clients get the best placements at competitive rates. Their strategic approach to media buying ensures optimal exposure across various channels, including television, radio, print, and digital platforms.

Public Relations and Event Management

Building and maintaining a positive public image is essential for any business. The agency’s public relations team excels in crafting compelling stories and managing media relations. They also specialize in event management, organizing everything from product launches to corporate events with meticulous attention to detail.

Client-Centric Approach

At the heart of Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency is a deep commitment to their clients. They believe in building long-term partnerships based on trust, transparency, and mutual respect. This client-centric approach is evident in every project they undertake.

Customized Solutions

Recognizing that every client is unique, the agency offers customized solutions tailored to specific business needs and goals. They take the time to understand each client’s vision, challenges, and objectives, crafting strategies that align perfectly with their brand.

Continuous Support and Collaboration

The relationship between Best Printing Press In Gaya and their clients doesn’t end with the launch of a campaign. They provide continuous support, monitoring the performance of campaigns and making necessary adjustments to ensure sustained success. Their collaborative approach ensures that clients are always in the loop and have a say in the direction of their advertising efforts.

Commitment to Innovation and Growth

In an industry that is constantly evolving, staying ahead of the curve is essential. Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency is committed to continuous innovation and growth. They invest in cutting-edge technologies and stay abreast of the latest trends to ensure that their clients always have a competitive edge.

Embracing Technology

From advanced data analytics to artificial intelligence, the agency leverages the latest technologies to enhance their services. Their use of data-driven insights allows them to create highly targeted campaigns that deliver measurable results.

Training and Development

The agency places a strong emphasis on the professional development of their team. Regular training sessions, workshops, and seminars ensure that their experts are always equipped with the latest skills and knowledge. This commitment to continuous learning translates into better service and more innovative solutions for their clients.

Awards and Recognitions

The excellence of Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency has been recognized by numerous industry awards and accolades. These recognitions are a testament to their dedication, creativity, and effectiveness in the field of advertising.

Industry Accolades

The agency has received several prestigious awards for their innovative campaigns and outstanding performance. These accolades highlight their ability to deliver results that not only meet but exceed client expectations.

Client Testimonials

Beyond industry awards, the most significant measure of the agency’s success is the satisfaction of their clients. Glowing testimonials and long-term partnerships speak volumes about their ability to build and sustain successful relationships.

In the competitive landscape of advertising, Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency stands out as a beacon of excellence. Their unmatched expertise, comprehensive range of services, client-centric approach, and commitment to innovation make them the best choice for businesses looking to enhance their brand and reach their target audience effectively. For those seeking a partner that can deliver exceptional results and drive growth, Gaya's Leading Advertising Agency is the ideal choice.

[ma1dita]

hi can i get one ticket for the graveyard smash starring luke castellan with a 🍬 and 🍫? thank u!!

bury a friend

[STARRING: LUKE CASTELLAN x hephaestus!reader ; “I’ve just never seen you this mad before.” “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” wc: 1.3k a/n: MDNI- human sacrifice, dubcon, outdoor sex, afab!virgin!reader, fingering, p in v, mentions of creampie, forced orgasm, errr... mentions of gore

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You were only supposed to fix his sword.

It started as a favor—you and him weren’t really friends but there weren’t many older kids at camp and word got out that the steel he brought cost him his quest, or so he says. Luke Castellan came back from San Francisco wanting more. A hero like him believed he only deserved the best, and who were you to argue? You were set on giving him just that, the best welder out of all of your siblings—you could be put to the test and do something remarkable for someone who might actually have a chance of being more than a forgotten memory to your godrents.

You’re so warm. He can’t get over it. Were all children of Hephaestus born with a fire to stoke? 

Your hands feel like fire under his grasp as he leads you to a forest clearing and you stumble—it’s hard to tell where you’re going when it’s dark like this but Luke says he won’t let you fall. He has your arms bound at your waist and perhaps you can’t fall if he isn’t planning on letting go. 

“C’mon. Right up there,” he mumbles, tapping your hip with a cold hand and leading you onto a manmade ledge in the middle of the empty space. Lanterns line the floor, dimly lit flames swaying in the brisk night air, and he’s still gentle in the way he helps you sit properly on the stone. 

He almost doesn’t want to do this.

“Luke? Do we have to do this?” you hesitate, laying back onto the smooth surface as he ties your limbs down with rope from the docks. The fibers rub your wrists and ankles raw, and his eyes almost glow at the sight of you struggling.

His new toy sits in a scabbard attached to his belt. Luke undoes the clasp, propping Backbiter against the wall of the platform near his knee and he starts to pace, muttering something under his breath, “Of course we do. It’s the only way—you need to understand,” Luke says hoarsely, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod. It’s not enough for him.

“TELL ME!” he roars, spit flying onto your cheek as he stands over you, aggressively shaking the front of your orange t-shirt. It was a late night—the sunlight of the summer solstice extending past dinner. No one’s going to save you out here. Luke only has a few hours to get this timing right, and you’re his only shot at this.

“I-I understand. I’ve just never seen you this mad before…” you whimper, pushing your head back against the rock to put some distance between you and the son of Hermes. 

“M’not mad,” he exhales, patting your head like one does a child, “I just need to do this. Say it’s okay.” A question bubbles up your throat, but before you can ask, he’s mounted himself onto your spread legs, pushing up the cotton of your drawstring skirt. Between fluttering eyelashes, you think you see him lick his lips—cold fingers traveling up the expanse of your thighs despite your hesitant cries, “Yes but Luke…I…I’ve never…please....”

“The less you struggle, the easier this will be. I’ll take care of you.”

You nod slowly. Goosebumps ravage your body before he does, soon probing past the floral print of your underwear as he presses his icicles for fingers into your heat, stretching, searching for something deep within you until you cry out, “Help!”

Luke smirks, having you writhing in the palm of his hand and gushing from your cunt at the foreign feeling. You’re a pretty one, a lucky find hidden away in the soot and steel of the armory. Always warm and kind, keeping company with your creations. You’re perfect, and exactly what Kronos wanted. A bright and innocent soul to turn the tides of his fate.

Everything is going to plan—he thrusts another finger into your cunt, spreading you wide and reveling at how warm you feel when he’s knuckle deep. Your mouth is agape in a pitiful moan as you try to tuck your face into your shoulder, feeling the heat pool at the bottom of your belly the more he curls his digits, twisting and turning until your eyes roll.

“Almost ready. Keep it coming, pretty girl. You’re the best, you know that?” he breathes, tracing his fingers over nipples that peak underneath the fabric of standard-issue orange on your chest. The color is acrid against the color of your skin—too bright of a reminder of why Luke has to make a deal with the devil. 

Your eyes widen at the feeling of his thick shaft tapping against your clit almost like someone knocking to be let in. Luke’s not asking for permission though—nothing will stop him from his mission to the Titan. You’ve just never gone this far, inexperience making your legs shake when he nudges them further, “I don’t….” You don’t want this, you want to say, and if you did…not like this.

His eyes are almost black in this light, staring down at you and waiting for you to fight back and say something to ruin his night.

He spears himself into you, straight to the hilt. You could swear you feel him in your lungs. Watching you choke on air with an expressionless gaze, Luke’s thumb rubs away the tear that rolls down your cheek. You decide to watch the stars instead, body jolting at his insistence as you sob into his ear, lips searing against his neck in a broken sound.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters, tucking himself into your neck as he continues to slide in and out of your throbbing pussy, “So so sorry. Gonna make it better, okay?” The searing pain fades as he huffs into your skin, rutting into you like a sick dog. Blood mixes with your arousal squelching around his length. His cock is fatter than it is long, a heavy, pulsing thing that presses deep into your insides. Luke lets a moan slip past his lips, echoing your whines of desperation at the sensations your body is being put through. He can’t help it—you’re too good in all senses of the word. He bites down on your shoulder, smiling at the sound of your staggered wail.

The pleasure makes your brain go fuzzy, and guilt pulls at your core as you clench around him, unaware of what comes next, “Shit, you’re so tight. Cum for me. You have to.”

You don’t know what to say—you can’t string your feelings into a sentence, too wrecked by his cockhead bumping against your g-spot when he tilts his hips at just the right angle.

“I think I’m…No!” you panic at the rush of adrenaline racing through your body—bearing down and tensing and Luke is shushing you, still piercing through your belly as he reaches down and harshly rubs at your clit. You let go—your body is on fire and it’s all his fault. This is all his fault—he grabs your chin, “You like that? Feels good hmm? Told you,” he grits, pushing air through his teeth as he continues to rock into your warmth.

You’re boneless by the time he’s done and belly full of his essence—the shine of the moon reflecting in your eyes and Luke knows now that it is time. He tucks himself back into his shorts, picking up Backbiter from the ground and tracing it’s perfectly crafted edge against the soft of your stomach. 

“Is it over? You said the sword would work after…” The words die out as you shiver, an unfocused gaze meeting Luke’s dark one, void of any emotion and desperation you saw on the boy that begged for your services weeks prior.

“Gods, you have terrible timing. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

He sinks the blade into you, straight to the hilt. The feeling is almost familiar—it’s so deep that it’s come out the other side, knocking against stone. Blood spills from your wound, the ichor spiraling and spreading into your best creation that no one will even know was yours—forging a weapon of mass destruction as you choke out your last breaths.

Luke sighs, shooting a prayer up into the stars for your soul. If you’re listening, he hopes you know he’s grateful you kept him warm.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!