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bradshawsbaby · 1 year ago

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Sprinkles of Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: It's Bob's birthday and you want to do something special for him. The problem is that you've only been on two dates, and you can't get out of your head about making that first move.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to my #1 Guy, Lewis Pullman! I thought we all deserved some sweet Bob fluff to celebrate!

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, featuring the jitters and nervousness that comes with a new relationship.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, your fingers itching to reach for it where it sat taunting you on the counter near the cash register.

Biting down on your lower lip, you peeked surreptitiously over your shoulder before finally picking it up, your finger hovering hesitantly over the green messages icon.

“Are you finally going to text him or are you just going to keep staring longingly at your phone all day?”

Your cousin’s teasing voice startled you, pulling you out of your silent reverie as you fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in your haste to get a grip on it and shove it inside your apron pocket.

Alexandria just laughed in response, her dark eyes sparkling as she slid a tray of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies onto one of the display case shelves. Normally, you would have complimented her on how amazing they smelled, but given the knowing smirk she was sending your way, you stuck your tongue out at her instead.

“Stick your tongue out at me all you want,” she told you, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But I know you, and I know how badly you want to text him. So why don’t you just do it already and save yourself all the torment?”

“Lexie,” you groaned, your phone suddenly feeling like a rock inside your pocket. Why did your cousin have to know you like the back of her hand?

You were saved from having to elaborate, however, when one of the timers dinged in the kitchen, signaling that the newest batch of muffins you and Lex had put in a little while ago was finished. She shot a pointed look in your direction, making it clear the conversation wasn’t over, before turning on her heel and going to take the muffins out of the oven.

Since it was the usual mid-morning lull and the only customers currently inside the bakery were a college student working on her laptop near the window and two elderly ladies enjoying conversation over scones and tea, you figured you should be both a good cousin and a good employee and go help Lexie in the back.

Despite the fact that you had already been working at the bakery for a few months now—ever since you had moved to San Diego—you still couldn’t help but be blown away whenever it hit you that your cousin had really accomplished the dream she’d been chasing since you were little girls. For as long as you could remember, Alexandria had been wanting to open up her very own bakery, a cozy little spot where people could come to read, hang out, and relax, all while enjoying some homemade treats and delicious coffee. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were playing with her Easy-Bake Oven, and now here she was—living the dream as a successful small business owner. You couldn’t have been more proud of her. Or more grateful that she’d given you both a job and a place to live when you’d decided to follow in her footsteps and make the move out to California.

Lex was like the big sister you never had. She gave the best advice and she knew you inside and out. Which was normally a good thing, but judging by the way she was looking at you from under her dark lashes, you knew today was going to be one of those days where she insisted on pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You sighed in exasperation as you helped her set the freshly baked orange cranberry muffins—a favorite among her loyal customers—on the cooling rack. “I wish I hadn’t even mentioned it. It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted, supremely conscious of the weight of your phone pressing against your thigh as you worked.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, then why do you seem to be making it one?” Lexie replied with that razor-sharp wit of hers, winking when you shot her a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I’m not!” you insisted, although you knew that was a complete and total lie. You were being ridiculous and you knew it, but every time you even thought about sending him a message, your heart started pounding inside your chest and your palms got all gross and clammy.

Lex crossed her arms over her chest, throwing an exasperated look heavenward. “Babe, you’ve already been on two dates with him and he wants to take you out on another. Do you seriously think you’re going to send him running for the hills if you send him a text wishing him a happy birthday?”

When you heard it out loud, it did sound pretty stupid. He was such a great guy, so sweet and attentive and caring, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was losing interest or that he would be freaked out by such a simple message. But still…

“I do want to text him,” you confessed, biting your lip as you carried the empty muffin tray over to the large sink where your cousin washed all her baking supplies.

“So what’s holding you back?” Lexie asked, her voice gentler this time as she leaned her hip against the counter, clearly trying to understand. She’d seen your heart get broken enough times to know that you were much more cautious now when it came to entrusting it to other people.

You sighed softly, fiddling with the strings on your pink-and-white striped apron as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s just—we’ve only been on two dates. I mean, they were really amazing dates, but still. Only two. And our birthdays only came up once in passing on our first date. He never mentioned it again, even when he called the other night to ask me if I’d like to go out this weekend. So on the one hand, I do want to text him to wish him a happy birthday, but on the other hand, what if it weirds him out that I remembered? What if he thinks I’m some kind of obsessive stalker and gets the ick and then ghosts me?”

“For wishing him a happy birthday?” your cousin questioned skeptically, her eyebrows rising until they were practically touching the edges of her blunt bangs.

“I’ve been ghosted before for less,” you muttered in embarrassment, knowing that your love life was a disaster compared to your cousin, who had been with her soon-to-be-husband since high school.

Lex softened immediately, stepping beside you and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “I know,” she murmured soothingly, rubbing your arm with a gentle hand. “But those guys were jerks who didn’t deserve you. From everything I know about this guy, he sounds so great. He seems like the kind of guy who would be happy that you remembered his birthday.”

Honestly, you couldn’t argue with her there.

Bob Floyd was unlike any man you’d ever met before. He was everything you’d ever hoped to find but had feared you never would, the kind of perfect that seemed too good to be true, the gentleman that you had thought existed only in fairytales.

It had been over a month now since he’d stepped off a storybook page and walked into your life.

You could still remember that afternoon so clearly. It was a Saturday, and the bakery had been surprisingly dead. Lexie had decided to run to the bank, leaving you in charge of things in her absence. You’d been rearranging some of the pastries in the display case when the bell over the front door chimed, signaling a customer.

Stepping up to the counter, the words of greeting died in your throat when one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life approached, a shy smile stretching across his face.

“Hi,” he greeted you in a soft-spoken voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and yet you’d never seen a guy look better.

“Hi,” you echoed, your eyes widening as you got lost in a gaze as blue as the cornflowers that grew in your grandparents’ backyard.

The two of you just stared at each other for a couple minutes, neither of you saying anything, even as the air between you seemed to spark and hum with electricity.

“Um, I was, uh, hoping that you still had some cupcakes left. I know it’s a little later in the day and my neighbor who recommended this place said that you should always get here early, but, um, I have a little barbeque that I’m going to and I wanted to bring some dessert. I’m hopeless at making anything myself,” he rambled, his eyes crinkling as he laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was only when he cleared his throat awkwardly a moment later that you realized you hadn’t yet responded to him.

“Oh! Cupcakes!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out a little louder and squeakier than you had intended. “Of course!” Running your hands down the front of your apron, you shook your head slightly to try to knock some sense into it. You walked over to the display case, indicating that he should come take a look. “Normally we’d already be sold out of a lot of these, but it’s been quieter today than usual, so we still have plenty left. I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled, his blue eyes latching onto your face.

Something about the way he said it made your insides feel as gooey as the batter Lexie used to make her double chocolate fudge cake.

“How many cupcakes do you need?” you asked, working overtime to keep from getting flustered.

“I think two dozen should be fine,” he replied, his eyes roaming over the display case shelves. “Hmm, they all look so good, I wouldn’t know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lemon zest cupcakes are really popular. So are the red velvet and the coconut cloud. Oh, and the German chocolate.” You laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, they’re all really good.”

He laughed in response, a small dimple appearing in his cheek that only further endeared him to you. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked, his voice so earnest it made your chest ache.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “The funfetti,” you told him, indicating the vanilla cupcakes baked with rainbow chips and topped with swirls of vanilla frosting and an extra dash of sprinkles.

“I’ll take a dozen funfetti cupcakes then. And you can surprise me with the other dozen,” he grinned, making you smile.

“I hope you and everyone at the barbeque enjoys,” you said after you finished ringing him up, sliding the two boxes of cupcakes towards him.

“I’m sure we will. This place comes highly recommended,” he replied with a smile. “Are you Lexie, the owner?”

“No, no, I’m her cousin,” you explained, introducing yourself by name.

“I’m Robert Floyd,” he said, holding out his hand to you. “But everyone calls me Bob.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bob,” you beamed, sliding your hand into his and shaking firmly. His hand was large and warm and calloused and it felt like yours had been made to fit inside it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured softly, holding onto your hand for another second or two before slowly releasing it. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be back again soon.”

“We serve really good coffee,” you said suddenly, desperate to find a reason to get him to come back. “And we open really early. You know, if you want to get some on your way to work.”

Bob’s beautiful blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.” He picked up his boxes of cupcakes and turned towards the door. Before he left, he shot you one last smile that melted your insides. “See you around.”

After that, Bob Floyd had found plenty of reasons to stop by the bakery. The following Monday, he’d stopped by in the morning to grab coffee for him and his friends on his way to work. That was when you’d learned that he was a naval aviator stationed at North Island.

“You were right about those funfetti cupcakes,” he told you, patting his stomach with a grin. “I think I ate about half the box before I thought to share them with anyone else.”

Your eyes crinkled and you felt your skin grow warm as you smiled in response. “Good, I’m so glad.”

You made sure to slip a cupcake in with all his coffee orders, a gesture which he didn’t fail to notice, judging from the extra large tip he left in the jar.

“See you soon,” he smiled, balancing all that coffee in his large hands as he backed out of the bakery.

From then on, he was there practically every day, stopping in for coffee or for some cupcakes after work. He often picked up things for other people—his friends or his neighbor who had recommended the bakery to him. But for himself, he always stuck with the funfetti cupcakes.

“I know I should branch out and try something new,” he told you one day through a mouthful of sprinkles. “But I can’t help it—these are just so good.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bob to work up the nerve to finally ask you if you might be interested in getting dinner with him sometime. You’d had to bite your tongue to keep from immediately screaming, “YES!” in his face,

The two of you spent your first date at a gorgeous little seafood restaurant right on the water, and then went for a long walk on the beach afterwards. It was truly the best date you’d ever been on. Bob was a perfect gentleman, attentively listening to everything you had to say and making you feel as though he actually cared about what was important to you. He’d even draped his jacket over your shoulders as you walked by the water, noticing the way you were shivering slightly in the dress you’d worn. You had been hoping he would kiss you at the end of the night, but like the gentleman that he was, he’d simply brushed your cheek with his lips, asking in a hushed voice if you’d like to see him again.

You wanted that very much.

On your second date, Bob took you mini golfing, something you’d told him that you hadn’t done since you were a little girl. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed so much as you did that night, no matter how terrible you turned out to be at miniature golf. Just like on your first date, Bob walked you to your door at the end of the night, his hand resting on the small of your back as you turned to look up at him, your eyes begging him to give you a proper kiss goodnight.

He had to duck his head slightly as he leaned in closer, a lock of his honey-colored hair draping across his forehead as his gaze latched onto yours, your breath mingling as the two of you inched closer and closer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. His lips just barely brushed against yours, sending a shock of electric currents up and down your spine. When he pulled back, the both of you were flushed and stammering.

“C-can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, still so shy even after two dates.

“I hope you do,” you whispered with a smile, squeezing his hand before slipping through your front door.

Faithful to his word, Bob had called you the next day. The two of you were supposed to be going out again this weekend.

But that brought you back to your current dilemma—his birthday. You knew you were being stupid about this. Texting him for his birthday wasn’t tantamount to a marriage proposal. It wasn’t like you were trying to throw him a surprise party or invite yourself over for cake. It was a text message for crying out loud. And even though it had only come up once, he had told you when his birthday was. It wasn’t like you had gone to North Island and asked to see his personnel file.

The truth was, you were just terrified of screwing things up. You’d gone on plenty of dates with guys who had seemed really nice, who you had really thought were into you, only to be ghosted or flat-out rejected. Deep down inside, you knew that Bob was different from all those other guys, but still—the thought of sending him running made your stomach twist into knots.

“Babe, you know what I’m going to say,” Lexie murmured, your cousin’s voice pulling you out of all your convoluted thoughts. “If you never take a risk, then nothing’s ever going to change. I know you’re nervous, but just go for it. The worst that happens—seriously, the worst case scenario—is that he ghosts you. But you know what? If he does that, then he wasn’t worth your time anyway. And if he doesn’t? Well, maybe he’ll start to fall even harder for the gorgeous girl who remembered his birthday.” She grinned, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right?” you grinned ruefully, pulling back from your cousin’s embrace and fiddling nervously with the scrunchie on your wrist.

“It’s a gift,” she replied with a wink, turning to look over her shoulder when the bell over the front door chimed. “I’ve got it,” she told you, squeezing your arm before heading back out to the front.

That left you alone in the back kitchen, your phone burning a hole in your apron pocket and your heart hammering inside your chest.

“Okay, don’t be an idiot,” you murmured to yourself. As far as pep talks went, it was far from the most inspirational, but it did the job as you pulled your phone out. “It’s not too much too soon. It’s just a text,” you breathed out. “It’s just a text.”

Opening your messages, you found Bob’s name—he was right near the top after texting you just yesterday—and opened up your conversation thread, chewing on your bottom lip.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you tapped out a quick message that you hoped was short, sweet, and to the point and hit send.

Happy Birthday, Bob! I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥳🎉

You felt hot all over as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, your pulse stuttering in your veins as you wondered how long it would take him to see it. From what he had told you about his job, he often spent hours in the air each day, so chances were good he didn’t even have his phone on him right now.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and determined not to think about it. A task that was much easier said than done. But as you walked back out into the main part of the bakery, you found that a small crowd had formed, so you jumped into assisting your cousin behind the counter.

“Well?” Lexie asked under her breath as you helped her fill a couple boxes with a dozen cinnamon chip muffins.

“I sent it,” you murmured in reply, purposely avoiding her direct gaze. “But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

As much as you had tried not to, you’d been compulsively checking your phone every five minutes.

Lex shrugged and waved it off. “It’s still early yet,” she said confidently, carrying the boxes over to the patiently waiting customer.

You threw yourself into various tasks around the bakery, anything that would keep your mind off your phone. You restocked the shelves in the display cases, organized the money in the cash register, wiped down the counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the baking pans, frosted cupcakes, replaced the coffee beans, and waited on any customers who walked in.

A couple of times, your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart jumped into your throat, only to sink down to your stomach when you pulled it out and found that it was just an email notification or a text from your mom.

The longer you went without hearing from Bob, the harder you had to work to convince yourself that he wasn’t ignoring you.

No. He wasn’t ignoring you. Bob wasn’t like that. You were sure of it.

It was a little after noon, just when you’d taken a cup of coffee into the back for a short break, when you felt your phone buzz again, vibrating against your thigh through your apron. Swallowing nervously, you put your coffee down and reached into your pocket, a small gasp escaping you when you saw Bob’s name on the screen.

You could scarcely unlock your phone fast enough, opening up the text thread to read his reply.

Wow, you remembered! That means so much to me. Thank you! ☺️ Sorry it took me a little while to respond—we were doing some test flights, but I’m on my lunch break now and I’ll be on the ground for the rest of the day. How are you?

It took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to scream and jump up and down like a little girl. It felt like a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t freaked him out! He hadn’t ghosted you! It was just like Lexie said—he was happy that you remembered.

Grinning like a fool, you leaned against the counter and typed out a response, not caring that your coffee was getting cold.

I’m doing great! Glad to hear you got some flying in on your special day ✈️ Doing anything to celebrate?

It was only after you had sent the message that you began to fret that it sounded like you were being nosy about his plans, or worse, trying to insert yourself into them.

But then Bob responded a minute later and put your worries to rest.

Nothing too fancy. My friends ordered lunch and got me a cake. They sang “Happy Birthday,” too, even though I begged them not to lol. I usually keep it pretty lowkey on my birthday.

You smiled as you wrote back, Was it a funfetti cake?

His next response came in no time at all, and it made your stomach flutter to imagine that he was focusing entirely on you and your conversation during his lunch break.

If only! It was really good, but I don’t think anything compares to those funfetti cupcakes 😋

At that moment, Lex walked into the back, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the huge smile plastered on your face. It felt like it was going to get permanently stuck there.

“Well, well, well,” she grinned, sidling up next to you. “Should I take that glowing smile to mean you finally heard back from your lieutenant?”

You ducked your head shyly, your cheeks growing warm. “He isn’t my lieutenant,” you insisted.

“Mhm, sure,” your cousin grinned, laughing loudly when you nudged her in the side. “So it worked out after all? He didn’t say you were a freaky stalker? I shouldn’t be expecting the police to burst down the door any minute?”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, realizing how ridiculous you’d been behaving that morning. “You were right. It all worked out. He was very touched that I remembered his birthday,” you murmured, sheepishly scuffing your sneaker against the floor.

“I’ve gotta say it—told you so,” Lex smirked victoriously, wrapping her arms around you and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as you grinned and returned your cousin’s hug. “You know, Bob was actually just texting me that his friends at work got him a cake, but that it just doesn’t compare to your funfetti cupcakes,” you told her with a proud smile.

“What can I say? They are pretty damn delicious,” she winked, her chest puffing up with pride. A sudden thought struck her as she looked at you. “Hey, what time does Bob get off from work?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Usually around six or seven, I think,” you told her, your brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“Hmm, perfect,” Lexie mused, tapping her chin as she glanced over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. Your older cousin was always plotting something.

“I mean that the bakery closes at five-thirty,” she said, as if you weren’t already well aware of that fact. When she realized that you weren’t exactly catching her drift, she went on, “Which means you could invite Bob over for a little after hours birthday treat if you’d like,” she grinned.

“Lex!” you gasped, scandalized.

Your cousin threw her head back laughing. “I didn’t mean that you should jump his bones in the middle of the bakery! I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t do that,” she chuckled teasingly. “I just meant you could surprise him with something sweet, on the house. Something we make here,” she added with a pointed look that made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding your head slowly. “Right. Of course.” You cleared your throat slightly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not! Anyone who makes my cousin this happy is welcome to free cupcakes anytime,” Lex said firmly, cupping your face in her hands and beaming at you.

“You’re the best,” you told her, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. “I’ll text Bob now and see if he thinks he’ll be up for it.”

“If you’re the one asking, I’m sure he will be,” she winked, nudging you playfully before turning to go back to the front counter.

Once she was out of sight, you turned your attention back to your phone and bit your lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you wanted to ask him.

Speaking of funfetti cupcakes, any chance you’d want to swing by the bakery on your way home from work? We close at 5:30 today, but we make special after hours exceptions for our best customers 😉🧁

Was that stupid? That probably sounded stupid. Would he think that you were suggesting a quickie on the bakery floor the way you thought your cousin had been suggesting? Oh God, could you unsend that message before he got it?

I would love to! Is 6:45 too late?

This man didn’t cease to amaze you.

No, that’s perfect!

See you then ☺️

You tried your hardest to smother the smile that was threatening to completely overtake your face, but you couldn’t do it. This man gave you butterflies like you’d never experienced before in all your life, and the thought of getting to see him in just a few hours made you feel like you were going to burst from excitement and anticipation.

You didn’t even have to tell Lexie what Bob had said. The second she saw your face, she just smiled knowingly and told you, “I’ll be out of here by six.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as it did that day while you waited for closing time to finally come around. Lex observed your growing impatience with amusement, giving you as many odd jobs as she could to hopefully make the minutes go faster.

When the clock finally chimed five-thirty, you practically sprinted towards the door, locking it and flipping the closed sign around to ward off anyone who might have tried to stop by for a last minute treat.

“Good thing business is so good or I might get mad at you for scaring off customers,” Lexie teased.

True to her word, your cousin helped you clean up and then was heading out the door by six o’clock.

“Have so much fun,” she told you, blowing you a quick succession of air kisses. “And tell Bob happy birthday from me,” she added with a wink before slipping out the door.

With your cousin gone, that left you about forty-five minutes to finish getting ready before Bob arrived. You quickly set a playlist of classic 60s tunes to play softly through the speakers—you and Bob had discovered you had a similar taste in music about halfway through your first date—and then hurried into the bathroom to fix up your hair and apply a little bit of make-up. You usually didn’t bother with much when you were working, but you wanted to look nice for Bob.

Once you were done getting ready, you went into the back to get his little birthday treat set up—Lexie had made a fresh batch of funfetti cupcakes towards the end of the day just for the occasion. You had just finished placing one of the cupcakes on a small plate with a lace doily and inserting a candle into it when you heard a faint knock on the front door.

Your heart rate immediately began climbing as you ran your hands over the T-shirt and jeans you’d worn today, hoping you looked halfway presentable. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you stepped out into the main part of the bakery and felt your legs instantly turn to Jell-O at the sight of Bob standing at the door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You’d only told him once in passing how much you loved them, and he had remembered.

Wow, that really did mean a lot.

“Hi,” you greeted him, standing in the open doorway and beaming up at him.

“Hi,” he echoed, that little dimple making an appearance as he smiled down at you. After a beat, he seemed to suddenly remember that he was holding the flowers in his hand. “Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding them out shyly.

“They’re beautiful, Bob,” you breathed out softly, accepting them with a smile and pressing them to your nose. “My favorite. You remembered.”

“Just like you remembered my birthday,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but which you knew you felt just as much as he did.

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling dreamily. Then you came to your senses.

“Come in, come in,” you told him, stepping out of the doorway so that he could enter and then closing the door behind him. “Gosh, these really are such beautiful flowers. That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to get me anything. It is your birthday, after all,” you said, guiding him to a table in the center of the room.

“I wanted to,” Bob replied, taking a seat. He was still in his flight suit and he looked so handsome. “I’m happy that they made you smile.”

“It’s hard not to smile when I’m around you,” you told him, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could think twice about them. Your cheeks grew warm when you realized how vulnerable they were, and you buried your face in the bouquet once more.

Bob’s cheeks had grown rosy as well, and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously underneath the table. “I feel the same way,” he murmured softly.

You could have thrown your arms around him and kissed him right then and there, but then you recalled the actual reason why you had invited him over.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said suddenly, smiling brightly as you laid the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. “Wait right here and close your eyes,” you told him, waiting until he had done so before hurrying into the back and lighting the candle you’d tucked into his cupcake.

When you stepped back into the main room on quiet feet, you found that Bob was still patiently sitting with his eyes closed. Your heart swelled with deep affection—and was it possible something even deeper? You had never met anyone like him and you were certain you never would again.

It was at that moment that you realized “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes was currently playing through the speakers, as apropos a sign as you could imagine.

You cleared your throat slightly as you approached the table, the candle sparkling in front of your face as you brought it closer to the birthday boy.

“I know you said you weren’t a big fan of being serenaded with ‘Happy Birthday,’ so I’ll spare you my vocals,” you teased, setting the plate down in front of him. “But Happy Birthday, Bob.”

Opening his eyes, Bob glanced from your face down to the cupcake and then back up to you again. He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“This is—this—thank you,” Bob finally said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smiled, sitting down beside him and gently resting your hand over his. “Blow out your candle before it melts into your cupcake,” you giggled.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter, leaning in closer to blow out the single candle, though he kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time.

“Lexie baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a whole bunch more in the back that I’m going to be sending you home with,” you told him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his face lit up.

“What did I do to deserve all this? This is the best birthday present ever,” Bob chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, glancing down at the table shyly. “The truth is, I was a little nervous to text you earlier.”

Bob looked surprised at your admission. “Why?” he asked, astonished.

You bit your lip and hesitated, but then decided to be honest. Like Lexie said, if you never took a risk, then you never got to see anything change. “I know this is going to sound so stupid, but I was worried you would think it was too much if I texted you for your birthday.”

“Too much?” he repeated, his brow crinkling in obvious confusion.

“You know, just because you had only mentioned your birthday once. I thought maybe I would seem too desperate or clingy or something if I reached out. I thought it would freak you out,” you confessed. “I know that sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bob assured you, shaking his head slowly. “I know what you mean. To be honest, I think I’ve had that problem myself. Y’know, coming off too eager and scaring girls away,” he admitted, blushing as he ducked his head.

“Oh, Bob,” you murmured in understanding, lacing your fingers through his. With all the other things you two had in common, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a crappy dating history was something else you shared. “You could never scare me off,” you promised him.

Lifting his head, he smiled at you and reached out slowly, his fingertips stirring a few wisps of your hair as he brushed your cheek lightly. “And you could never freak me out. It meant so much to me that you remembered my birthday. It made my whole day, in fact. Even more than the funfetti cupcakes,” he said, his eyes crinkling. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then added softly, “I remember everything about you.”

“You do?” you whispered, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up in your throat.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your favorite movies, the fact that you like tomatoes but hate ketchup, the way you throw your head back when you laugh really loudly. Your favorite flowers. I remember it all.”

“Bob,” you breathed out, the tears brimming in your eyes as your gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth.

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but soon enough, Bob was holding you in his arms, your lips pressed together in a kiss that was much less chaste than your first one, but just as sweet. Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other resting on the nape of his neck. He let out a soft groan in response, one of his large hands resting on your hip and the other splaying across your back, holding you close.

It was a kiss that was so much like Bob himself—gentle, kind, tender, sweet, affectionate, attentive. He didn’t demand more than you were willing to give, he didn’t try to take anything from you. He just wanted to make you feel how much he cared about you, wanted to make you feel special and cherished. And he did. You hoped more than anything that you were doing the same for him.

Because the truth was that you were already falling for Bob Floyd, and falling hard.

When the two of you finally pulled back—a mutually hesitant parting borne solely of the need for oxygen—you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as Bob rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay, maybe that was the best birthday present ever,” he chuckled quietly, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I think so, too, and it’s not even my birthday,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder. “Are you going to have your cupcake?” you asked, glancing down at where it sat on the plate, still untouched.

“Mhm,” Bob nodded, wrapping an arm around you and brushing his fingers up and down your arm. “But there actually is something I’d like to ask you first,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so flustered.

“Of course. What is it?” you questioned, resting a hand on his arm.

“Well, all of this has been amazing,” he began, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. You had noticed they had a tendency to slide down when he was particularly nervous. “But there actually is one more thing that I’d really like for my birthday this year.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “What is it?”

Bob swallowed deeply and then looked directly into your eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your lips parted as a little gasp of delighted surprise escaped you. It may have been Bob’s birthday, but it felt like you were the one being showered with gifts today.

“Oh, Bob, yes! Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Yes?” Bob repeated between kisses, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” you told him seriously, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out, the term of endearment falling easily off his tongue in that adorable midwestern accent of his. He pulled you into his arms once more and kissed you soundly.

You giggled softly as you reached for the funfetti cupcake and removed the candle, holding it up for him to take a bite. “Happy Birthday, Bob.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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alexendria-rose · 8 months ago

Note

I have a request

Can we see a submissive Stephen Strange story?

Like what you see?~

Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: PURE SMUT!! UNHOLY anyways; p in v, choking, sub Stephen with a hint of dom him, cock sucking, cussing.

Summary: Stephen comes back whining about work, and Y/n has the perfect idea to forget why he was whining in the first place-well whining about that certain situation...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Did I ever mention how much I loath Thanos?” Stephen huffs walking into their shared room at the Sanctum. Y/n looks up from her book to look at Stephen eyebrows knit together.

“My love, I think everyone hates him.” She laughs softly placing the book down on the side table before criss crossing her legs on the bed.

“Yeah but I really hate him, wong as sorcerer supreme! That was my spot.” He says plopping himself on his lovely girlfriend’s lap. Y/n rolls her eyes playing with his hair making sure not to mess it up so much.

“So you’re mad at Thanos because of that?” She just giggled leaning back against the bed. He looks up at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Yes.” He states his eyes fluttering close as she massages his head. Y/n laughed softly.

“Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry the blip affected you getting sorcerer supreme.” She fake pouted, Stephen sees right through that groaning and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t feel comforted.” He mumbles moving his eyes away from her as he pouts. Oh people would absolutely died laughing if they found out how soft Stephen was in front of her.

"Oh do you want to feel comforted? I have a few ideas in mind." She says softly tracing his lips a small smirk planted on her face. Stephen grins moving his hand to trace her wrist.

"I do like the sound of that." He mumbles his eyes never leaving hers. She bites her lower lip leaning foreword before capturing his lips with hers in a heated passion. He groans from the taste of her lips a slight whimper escaping his mouth. Y/n just smirks against his lips moving her hands to cup his cheeks, moving her body to straddle him instead- his back against the bed. He goes to grip her hips, she pulls back from the kiss grabbing his wrist.

"Nope, I didn't say you can touch me sweetheart." She smirks, his eyes widen at her comment, feeling himself get a hard at her words. She quirks an eyebrow at him, the smirk never leaving her face. "Oh are you excited for me Mr. Strange?" He takes a shattered breath nodding his head slowly.

"I need you, really badly." He was able to choke out. Her hands making its way down to his shirt(luckily he wasn't wearing his normal outfit) she brushes her fingers teasingly against his skin noticing his breath hitching at the contact. She pulls his shirt off, watching his chest rise and fall. She connects her lips on his chest his breath wavering slightly as she moves her lips down near his lower stomach just above his pants. "F-Fuck." He gasped out, she knew he was sensitive right here so she drew it out more by creating love bites on his lower stomach. He wanted to grip her hair so bad, but also wanted to obey her by not touching her, letting her work her magic on him. She slowly unbuttons his jeans before sliding them down his legs. She looked down at the bulge begging to come out of his boxers.

"Awh look at you, its basically begging me." She taunts flicking her tongue. He swallows hard his Adams apple bobbing.

"Please, I need you." He begs his eyes begging and full of want. She moves her hands to his underwear band before pulling them off, his cock flinging out as soon as she does. She could basically already see the pre-cum leaking out. She just smiled moving her head down, her eyes never leaving his.

"I give you permission to touch my head but that's it." She murmurs before using her mouth to take him whole. He brings his hands to her hair gripping on it softly but his body shuddered under her; his hips slightly bucking at the wetness of her mouth.

"F-Fuck." He sputters his mouth going dry from the way he kept his mouth opened. He whimpered lightly at the way she swirled her tongue around his length and the way she hollowed her cheeks in. She began to move her head up and down his length to create more friction. He groaned and moaned loudly at the way she took him with such ease and grace. He felt himself so close to the edge his grip on her hair tugging on it harder, instead she pulls her head back wiping her mouth, he whined at the lost of contact. She just chuckles.

"Mr. Strange be patient. Don't you want to cum in me?" She smirked standing up from the bed removing her shirt and pants revealing her lace bra and underwear knowing this was most likely going to happen. His eyes move up and down her body, his eyes never leaving out a inch of it. "You like what you see?" She taunts crawling on top of him. He just nods watching the way she crawled back on top of him. "Well since you like it so much-" She moves her panties off to the side before sliding herself down onto his cock. He groaned his head rolling back as his hips bucked up which let out a moan out of her lips.

"F-Fuck so perfect." He choked out, his eyes traveling back to her chest, the push up in the bra making her breast look fantastic to view. God lace looked so good on her- he thought. She just grinned adjusting to his length before moving her hips and down. His moans and whimpers becoming louder. "G-God oh my fuck." He grunts out his eyes rolling back at the way she felt so good to him, wet and tight just for him.

"See? Who would want to cum in a mouth, when you've got this tight pussy just for you." She says dissolving herself in the pleasure fluttering her eyes close as soft moans escape her lips.

"S-Shit Y/n." He moves his hands to her hips gripping on them so tightly his hands turn white from the grip. She chuckles not moving his hands knowing herself she enjoyed the touch. She moves her hands down to his throat her hands wrapping around it softly, as she started moving her hips faster.

"Fuck me like I'm the only pussy you want." She moans out as soon as those words left her mouth, his grip on her hips tightens before thrusting himself up in her deeper groaning every time he hit her G-spot. She gasped out at him hitting just the right spot, the sound of slapping skin bouncing off the walls. She feels herself tighten around him-very close to her edge.

"C-Can I cum, please?" He begs his eyes gazing at hers, she bites her lip to stop the whimpers coming out seeing Stephen this sub and soft in front of her made her so weak and her pussy tighten as she thought about it.

"F-Fuck." She whimpers out nodding out a quick yes. He moves his hips faster until he reaches his climax, her following swiftly feeling his warm seed enter her, his body shaking and shuddering underneath her. She rides out his orgasm before removing herself off of him flopping herself next to him, feeling her legs just shake slightly. She hears him chuckle deeply.

"Wow." He murmurs out turning his body to face her propping his elbow up before resting his hand on his palm, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She just smiles brightly.

"Your such a good boy." She smirks winking at him. He growls lowly.

"Keep it up baby girl, and I'll show you who can also be such a little sub." He smirk moving his hand to smack her ass. She gasped at the contact whining softly. "Exactly my point." He lifts her chin with his index finger. "Now I won't say I didn't enjoy that, but you are the only living soul that can know that." She gulps lightly nodding, the dominance slowly fading away. He smirks' lightly.

"Good girl."

#x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #marvel #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes.#smut

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libraryofolive · 8 months ago

Text

time to dye

featuring: Takuma Ino x gn!reader

genre: Fluff, crack

word count: 1.1k

synopsis: Chaos reigns supreme as your golden retriever boyfriend helps you dye your hair

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

When your boyfriend Ino Takuma squeezed the first blob of dye directly onto your scalp, you couldn’t help but shriek at the cold goop hitting your sensitive skin.

“What are you doing?” You cried, keeping your head as still as possible as to not splatter dye across your white bathroom walls. You were dressed only in your cheapest oversized tee, one that already had more than a sprinkle of dye on it from previous attempts at colouring your hair, and panties, not trusting Ino to not accidentally get anything on any trousers you wore. You loved him, you really did, but when he asked you to help you colour your hair, you were… sceptical, to say the least.

“Trust me, babe! This is how I saw someone do it on TikTok!” He too was dressed in an old t shirt and a pair of boxers, heeding your warning about not getting anything on the clothes he actually liked wearing. The flimsy plastic gloves that came with the box dye adorned his hands, a dye brush in his hands as he started to spread the concoction over the top of your hair. His tongue stuck out his mouth slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration. You admired his concentrated face in your bathroom mirror, only to get pulled out of your admiration by his shoddy technique.

“Takuma, make sure you get it on every layer, not just the top of my head. As cute as the Narcissa Malfoy type of hair can be, it’s not what I’m going for right now.”

“I told you, just trust me! I’ve done my research, I swear.” He made eye contact with you through the mirror, grinning wildly. The fact that he had gone out of his way to look into how best to help you, and was so happy about it, made your heart flutter. This - much like your previous appreciation of your boyfriend - was cut short again, though, as you felt dye slowly seep its way onto his forehead.

“You’re getting it on my face, babe - its a good job I remembered to cover my forehead with Vaseline to avoid it staining my skin.” Your voice was full of mirth, lightly teasing your pseudo-hairdresser. Music wafted around the two of you as you settled into a comfortable silence, Ino too concentrated on your hair to keep up a conversation. You broke the silence occasionally to remind him of something or to tease his technique, but you were happy to be pampered by your eager boyfriend. You had to admit, this was a much nicer way to dye your hair than straining to reach the back of your head and praying you hadn’t missed a patch that you couldn’t see - especially when Takuma’s gloved hands started massaging your head.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna get it all over you.” You asked when his long fingers started to work themselves through your locks.

“Shh, baby, relax. I’m giving you a head massage - making sure I get dye into all the nooks and crannies. You’re gonna look so good, I know it.”

“Because of your expert hair dressing skills?”

“Well, yeah, but also cos it’s you, and you always look good.” His off-handed compliment had your face warming and your gaze straying from his in the mirror.

“Yeah, whatever.” You mumbled.

Eventually, all of the dye was used up, your boyfriend’s gloves discarded, and a timer set to let it marinade into your hair. The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of your bathroom, now facing each other, knees touching.

“Can I wash it out for you? Like a proper salon?” Ino asked you.

“Really? You want to do that?”

“Well, I’m not half-a-job Bob. Gotta make sure my client is looked after and the dye washed out properly, duh. And to try and save your pillowcase and towels later.” He grinned at you, taking your hands in his and holding them up in the middle of the two of you. You hummed affirmatively as you studied his arms - he had slashes of colour running up his forearms from where they had accidentally caught some of your hair. He brought your hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

Washing the dye out of your hair was nothing but chaos - you kneeled, leant over your bathtub, the shower head that normally rests above it being pulled off its holder and used by Ino to rinse off your hair. He started off by rinsing off as much dye as he could without shampoo, but when it came to loading your hair up with the soap, he put the shower head down next to you in the bath. This caused the water still coming out of the showerhead to propel it onto its back, the water ending up spraying all over your walls and bathroom floor. You started screaming, unable to lift your head out of the tub for fear of making it worse with your dripping hair, and Ino had both hands covered in your expensive shampoo that he had been told not to waste under any circumstances.

“WHAT DO I DO?” He yelled, eyes wide as they took in the carnage he had accidentally created.

“GRAB IT, KUMA!”

“BUT YOUR SHAMPOO-”

“I CARE MORE ABOUT MY BATHROOM THAN MY SHAMPOO, YOU DIMWIT!”

Eventually, Ino grabbed the shower head, pointing the stream of water back into the bathtub. Warily, he handed you the the showerhead so that you could hold it steady whilst he lathered up your hair with soap. Why the two of you didn’t think about that in the first place, you had no idea. You decided to chalk it up to the fumes of the dye messing with your heads.

Eventually, the water being used to wash your hair ran clean, giving you the all clear to stop. You banished Ino to the living room as you dried and styled your hair, not letting him see his finished product until it was, well, finished. You adored him, you really did, but you didn’t trust enough to apply extreme heat to your hair just yet. Maybe one day, you had assured him, but when you looked at your sodden bathroom walls and floor, today was not that day.

You jumped into the living room, throwing your arms wide open and yelling “Surprise!” to catch your partner’s attention. His jaw dropped when he saw your hair - his work - and how well the colour suited you.

“Woah.” He walked towards you, running his hands through your freshly coloured and styled hair.

“You did a good job, babe.” You praised his work.

“Good job? Baby, my work is spectacular!” He said, a wide smile on his face and hearts in his eyes, admiring you, and praying that you’d let him help you next time, too.

#libraryofolive #olive writes #libraryofolive - drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #ino takuma #ino x reader #ino x you #takuma ino x reader #takuma x reader #takuma ino #ino takuma x y/n #ino x y/n #jjk x you #ino fluff #takuma ino fluff #takuma ino x you

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magicalbats · 6 months ago

Text

Kinktober 2024 Day 4: Sampo x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7082

Warnings: afab!reader, Silvermane Guard reader, size difference, age difference, handcuffs, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, cum in pants 🤭 dubcon, piv, mentioned stomach distention

A/N: So I'll fully admit that part of what went into this was me being petty lol ofc I was excited to write for Sampo again anyway, but I got a comment on the first fic I did for him that accused the reader of being underage. When she most certainly was not. If that was the angle I was going for, trust me, you'd know about it. So I played up the size difference big time in this one and made our reader a sweet little virgin for him to take advantage of 🤭

⭐

It’s not every day that Sampo Koski finds himself on the sharp end of a Silvermane Guard’s short sword and for that he has to give you credit.

The fact you’d managed to track him down at all, let alone way out at the far edge of the old abandoned city is impressive enough on its own. Not many could have accomplished even that much. But to then face him by yourself rather than calling for backup?

Well, it looked to him like you were just chomping at the bit to sink your teeth into some trouble.

“I’ve got you cornered now, you crook. Make any sudden movements and I’ll run you through. You’re under arrest.”

That was all well and good, but as he looks down the length of your very pointy sword he understands why it's not one of the standard issue halberds you’ve got pointed at his face. You were tiny in comparison to him and hardly the sort of girl he’d call intimidating. He could probably take you, sword or no sword. In fact he’s sure he can, considering he must’ve had at least a hundred pounds on you easy, and yet … the clear glint of challenge in your eyes makes him reconsider that choice. Although he’d come out on top eventually that didn’t mean he wouldn’t suffer a few puncture wounds for it along the way and he isn’t quite convinced he can afford that price. Getting into a tussle with you probably wasn’t worth it.

Feigning defeat, he lets out a heavy, long suffering sigh and slowly lets go of the bag full of smoke bombs sitting on top of the rickety old table. Just as any good con man knows when to quit while he’s ahead, Sampo recognized that now was the right time to throw in the towel. He could always figure something out further down the road, after you’d put your little sword safely away.

And besides. You did strike him as someone who might be fun to play with for a while.

So he harmlessly lifts his hands up in what should have been the universal gesture of surrender but you jolt as if he’d just reached for a loaded gun. The blade aggressively bobs with the involuntary flex of muscle and nearly takes off the end of his nose, surprising an undignified squawk out of him. A bit on edge, yeesh.

“Alright, alright. Let’s just calm down and take a few deep breaths, okay? You could really hurt someone waving that thing around like that!”

“Be quiet!” You hiss up at him.

Keeping your weapon leveled at the center of his face, you take a step forward as if to close the distance but he’s quick to scuttle back a pace. It’s not like he really had much of a choice, your eyes flashing dangerously as you follow after him.

“Do not even think about trying to escape, you damned nuisance. In the name of the Amber Lord and under order of the Supreme Guardian, I’m taking you into custody.”

“Sure thing, missy. I hear ya’ loud and clear!” He says, trying to laugh it off even as he dances back on his toes to keep at a safe distance. If he just maintained his cool long enough you’d eventually let your guard down. Probably. “But you’re not going to have anyone to arrest if you poke me full of holes! Say, here’s an idea. How about you put that oversized butter knife away and then we’ll talk this out, hm?”

“As if I have anything to say to the likes of you.”

“Oooh, come on. Don’t be like that.” His hapless chuckling abruptly cuts off with a not entirely feigned gulp when he backs all the way up into the wall. With nowhere else to go, Sampo can only tip his head back with a dull thump against the aged and decaying wood when you bring the end of your sword so close that he almost goes cross eyed trying to track its movement.

Sure, he’d admit you were good and evidently not the sort of person who would make the mistake of underestimating a much bigger opponent just because you had him at sword point but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t slip up eventually. He just needed to bide his time, pick his cards right and do what he always does best.

Playing the fool.

“Okay, look! I’m ever so sorry for whatever crime you think I may have committed to make you come after me like this,” He croons in his most convincing, well practiced tone of solicitation. “But I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding. If you’d just give me a chance to explain myself I think we’ll get this sorted out in no time and then we can both be on our merry ways. Come on! That only sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Eyes narrowing up at him, you haughtily lift your chin as if in outright defiance of his entreatment. “You are not entitled to fairness after all the scams and cons you’ve pulled on other people, you blue demon. I’m afraid I have no pity to spare for you this time.”

“I can see that.” Sorely grumbling under his breath, Sampo drops his attention down and to the side to fix on a seemingly random spot on the floor. He can see you shifting slightly at his peripheral, restless and maybe just a little nervous now that you were face to face with the supposed scourge of Belobog. Although it was obvious you were well trained you were still just a bit too naive and trusting if you were really going to fall for that old trick.

“As long as you cooperate and don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” You intone, indeed reading his body language as that of defeat. “Things will be much easier for you in the long run. I’ve got you cornered with nowhere to go. Just give up and come peacefully.”

Slowly taking one of your hands off the hilt, you reach back with a careful motion for something in your supplies pack. He has a few guesses what it might be, of course, but you don’t quite make it that far. Sampo spots his chance when the backward stretch of your arm pulls your gravity off center just so to make you redistribute your weight more on the left leg than the right. It’s slight enough to be almost imperceptible to the average man but average man Sampo Koski is not.

His arm snaps up to grab at your outstretched wrist like a striking serpent, your eyes going big and round when he redirects your sword away from him with a smoothly controlled jerk. Your reaction time is quick though and you start to bring your other hand back around to restore your grip. The following rush of motion happens so fast that most of it is just adrenaline fueled muscle memory on his part.

Blindly reaching for you with his opposite hand, Sampo pushes off from the wall so he can use his greater size to spin you, effectively trading places. He shoves you back with a bit more force than he’d intended to and the resulting thump makes the old rafters rattle in protest. The impact seems to force all the air from your lungs, momentarily stunning you, and he takes quick advantage of that opportunity to snag your other wrist so he can slam it back against the groaning wall. At the same time, he presses into you with his weight to fully pin you there and stop you from struggling, effectively trapping you in place.

It’s over in an instant.

Letting out a faintly shuddering breath, Sampo tips his chin down to look at your face. Glaring right back at him, you visibly gnash your teeth and try to push back on his hold with your sword hand but it’s no use. Not only is he bigger and stronger than you, but he’s heavier too. Just as he’d expected then. You were a bit too undersized to take him on.

“Guess you should have called for backup, eh?” He teases you, letting his mouth curl into a sleazy grin that just seems to further grate on your nerves, given the way you make a wild attempt to thrash yourself free.

In truth he finds it rather cute for all of five seconds until your desperate twisting brings one of your knees up a little too close to his crotch. His smile drops immediately, and he quickly wedges his thigh into the space between your legs to further limit your range of movement. Couldn’t have you incapacitating him that easily, now could he?

And the sharp gasp you pull in at the nudge delights him to no end, especially when you go stockstill between him and the wall. The startled look on your face is priceless and he can’t quite stop himself from cooing at you as he dips his head down to get a better view. Such a pretty thing for a Silvermane. It seemed a real shame that you were wasting all your time and energy putting yourself in danger for nothing more than a few cheap medals of honor. Perhaps he could change that though.

“Now, now. There’s no need for all this nonsense, is there? If you’d wanted a piece of ol’ Sampo Koski so bad, all you needed to do was ask. I’m not so cruel and cold hearted to deny a cute little thing like you.”

Even through two layers of clothes, both his and yours, he can feel the vague sensation of your pussy squeezing against his thigh. It makes his cock twitch in fast growing interest as he wonders what your cunt must look like, what it tastes like. And although it’s hard to tell through the uniform, he suspected your tits were big and juicy too, given the way they heavily shift under your clothes when you give a weak jerk against his hold. Oh, but he couldn’t wait to help himself to you.

First though … “Why don’t you go ahead and drop that sword for me, sweetheart? Hm? Be a dear, won’t you?”

“Bastard - -!”

Obviously you weren’t going to willingly give up the fight anytime soon, so he makes careful work of readjusting his hold on your wrist. Sampo’s hand greatly dwarves yours just as the rest of him does and it’s easy for him to twist it at just the right angle to make your fingers go lax. With a wordless cry from you, the blade noisily clatters to the ground which he quickly uses his other foot to kick away. Reluctantly going still, you shoot him a wary, guarded look that brings the smile back to his face.

“There. That’s much better, isn’t it? Now if you’ll just relax a little bit we can - -“

His grip on you barely eases up for a second and you’re yanking your hand free with a violent lurch to smack him right across the face. The hit itself does more to surprise him than any pain that might come with it, and his head jerks to the side with a dramatic ‘oof!’

So impressed by your gumption, he doesn’t immediately react so you have enough time to twist in his hold and slam your boot into the back of his knee. He crumples just like that, hitting the ground at your feet, but you’re quick to follow him down.

Throwing yourself across his back, you frantically grab at his arms to yank on them and he’s so bemused by the whole thing that he just lets it happen. It takes a great deal of effort on his part not to outright laugh when he was getting such a kick out of this, instead playing along with a series of lilting grunts and ‘ow, ow, ow’s that he hopes are sufficiently convincing. What an interesting woman who would choose to wrestle with a man double her size after she’d already been unarmed. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d do next.

Panting heavily, you at last manage to get his arms wrenched behind him and you dig your knee into his spine to force Sampo all the way down on the dirty floor. He can hear you fumbling with your pack as much as he feels it when you’re sitting on top of him, but this he just lets happen as well.

And with a sudden, triumphant exclamation of victory, you viciously snap a set of handcuffs around his wrists to secure them in place.

As you start to ease off him with a shuddering sigh of relief, he gives his fingers an experimental wriggle to flex his arms and test the give. Nice and tight. Ah well. It wasn’t the first or last time he was going to find himself in this predicament.

“There. I’ve got you now.” You wheeze, gingerly climbing to your feet to stand over him. Moving forward, you reach down to fist your hands in his shirt and roughly yank him up. He almost decides to give you a hard time about it but you’re doing such a good job that he doesn’t quite have the heart to make this any harder for you, so he helpfully gets one of his long legs under him so he can push himself to sit upright on the floor.

Craning his neck back, Sampo looks up at you with a sly Cheshire Cat grin although it evidently is not the kind of expression you’d been hoping for after all that. With a bothered hiss between your teeth, you bend down to shove at his broad shoulders and force him back against the wall before straightening again.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when you take a step back to survey your handiwork. Taking advantage of his first opportunity to do so, he appreciatively drags his attention over your vibrating body to take note of everything and commit it all to memory. The Silvermane uniforms were not designed for women, hence why so many altered theirs to better suit their needs and mobility, but you’d left yours almost completely unchanged. It was hard to get a good idea of the figure you were hiding underneath all the layers, but he was confident it would be good. His intuition rarely ever steered him wrong on such matters.

“So,” He says at last, keeping his tone friendly and conversational. “You’ve caught me. Congratulations. What are you going to do now?”

Shooting him a wary look, you bring a gloved hand up to wipe a bead of sweat off your cheek where it had started to run down. “What do you mean? I’m taking you back to Belobog and throwing you in jail where you belong. I’d think that should be obvious by now.”

“Eh, sure. You could do that, and I’ll even admit it would be the logical thing to do. But don’t you think there’s something else you could do instead? A far more fun and exciting secret option that I can see you haven’t thought of yet.”

Brows knitting in genuine confusion, you look down at him like he’s just sprouted a second head. “Have you gone mad? I have no idea what you’re trying to say, you big oaf.��

Allowing his grin to take on a sharper, more pointed edge, Sampo gives his shoulders a meaningful shrug as he tips his head to one side. “Ooh, are you really that naive or are you just pretending not to know what kind of position I’m in right now? Well, I’ll tell you something, little miss Silvermane Guard. You can’t fool me. I know good and well how you reacted when I had you pinned you up against the wall a moment ago and now I’m completely at your mercy. So why don’t you just help yourself? I won’t even put up a fight, promise.”

He throws you a saucy wink, and you immediately choke on a sharp intake of air as you reel back. Honestly he’d think it a bit dramatic if it weren’t for the way your expression darkens with unmistakable fluster and embarrassment, clueing him in that you weren’t simply playing up the innocent maiden schtick to keep your pride.

And his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline with that realization. “Don’t tell me … you really hadn’t thought about it? Oh me, oh my, could it be you’re actually a virgin standing before me in the flesh? You poor thing.”

“O - of course not, you fiend! How dare you speak to me like this!”

“But if that’s true then … surely you must not have any problem making a wager with me, hm? I mean, if you’re so experienced and knowledgeable in the ways of the adult world there’s no way I’d win, right?”

His smirk grows when your eyes widen to the approximate size of dinner plates, just staring down at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. Oh, but this was too rich. You’re doing a horrible job of pretending like you were at all comfortable with the direction this has gone and he can see his window to strike gradually revealing itself. You would have been easy enough to sucker in just about any other situation, especially for someone of his caliber, but like this? When he already had you so rattled and disoriented? This was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

“I can see I have your attention.” He goes on, speaking in a slow, confident drawl now. “How about it then? I’ll even give you the advantage by promising to only use my mouth. No hands or — other extremities, just to keep it fair.”

You look like you just might faint dead away as you surreptitiously glance down at his lap before snapping your attention back up with a wordless cry. “W - what are you even talking about? Why do you think I’m going to strike a deal with a criminal like you, Sampo Koski?”

“Ah, so you do remember my name.” He graciously inclines his chin, every bit the performer at home on his stage even for an audience of one. “And I know you’re going to strike a deal with me because I can tell just how hot and bothered you’re getting from over here. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about your pussy since I pinned you to the wall, have you? Yeah, thought so. Alright. Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Give me five minutes, that’s all I ask. Just give me a chance to rock your world and if I can't make you scream for me in that time you win. I’ll go along peacefully with you back to Belobog. You won’t even hear another peep out of me the whole way, scouts honor.”

“Wha … and if you win?”

“Then you’ll take these handcuffs off and let me use my hands for a little while.”

Squeaking shyly at the salacious waggle of his brows, you quickly turn away from him to look elsewhere. He watches you fidget and squirm for a drawn out moment, clearly wracked by indecision while he patiently waits to find out what you’ll choose. It was a bit of a gamble, sure, but he was no stranger to low odds bets and he was relatively confident you’d take the bait. After all, carting him all the way back to Belobog by yourself would be no easy task.

And just as he’d expected, the promise of having a willing captive eventually wins out against your common sense and you slowly turn back around towards him. Your eyes stay downcast, preferring to look at the floor rather than at him, but that doesn’t particularly bother him much.

Especially not when you bring your hands forward to hover at about waist level, uncertainty and nerves making you hesitate.

“Should I just …”

Breathing out a terse sigh through his nose, Sampo bumps his head back to rest against the wall with a knowing smirk. “That’s right. Slide your pants down and come here.”

You look like you’re going to back out after all for the stretch of a single heartbeat but then you seem to hastily gather your resolve, mouth settling into a firm line when you reach down to fumble with the front of your slacks. The pristine white fabric slouches around your hips as soon as you get them unfastened but you stubbornly keep them held up while you shuffle forward to stand before him.

Still smiling, Sampo inquisitively cocks his head to one side and you glare at him as if in warning before at last shoving your pants down to pool around the boots they’re tucked into. Your panties quickly follow suit to leave you bare from the waist down and nervously fussing with the bottom hem of your uniform jacket which you tug at to cover yourself. It’s plainly obvious that you’re a mess of nerves, not at all comfortable with being even partially naked in front of another like you’d wanted him to believe, but that was all right. He’d fix that soon enough.

“Closer.” He murmurs, coaxing you with a grin. “I can’t reach you like this. No hands, remember?”

You suck in a rough breath and hold it in your chest for a harrowing moment.

Abruptly squeezing your eyes shut, you yank the front of your jacket up and shuffle into the space between his bent knees to offer your cunt to him. And Sampo immediately feels his mouth start to water when he gets his first good look at you just a hair's breadth from his face.

The curls framing your pussy look soft and ticklish, a perfect place to lose himself in, and your inner thighs are soft with a welcoming pudge that begs to be squeezed. He’d have to save that for later though, and he gives his lips a quick swipe with his tongue before leaning up to dip his mouth close.

“Such a pretty girl,” He says, low and husky, to make sure you can feel his breath wafting against your skin before he actually touches you. “I don’t understand how you’ve possibly gone this long without having anyone eat you out but it’s okay. I’m here to remedy that for you. Just relax for me, alright?”

At your flustered little whimper, assuring him you were doing everything but relaxing, Sampo places a lingering kiss to the curls that pad your cunt. He takes his time with it as he slowly works his way down to the apex of your mound where the fleshy seam starts and he gets his first taste of you with a quick flick of his tongue. You jolt as if he’d just electrocuted you via static shock, swaying on your feet. But you stay right where you are, which he had to give you props for, merely squeezing your thighs as if to shut him out.

Tipping his head at an angle, he presses up into the tight, hot space to startle a mouse squeak out of you. The insistent nudge of his mouth forces you to adjust your footing for balance and you reluctantly shuffle into a wider stance as he buries his face in you. His olfactory senses are immediately overwhelmed with the smell of your cunt, your taste where it settles on the back of his tongue. Slightly bitter and salty, and yet so incredibly flavored with sweet notes of arousal that he was sure to remember it for as long as he might live.

His cock eagerly flexes in his pants to push up at the zipper as if trying to escape on its own accord while he continues to nuzzle into you, kissing and licking at fleshy lips to part them. Each lap of his tongue brings a fresh taste of you with it and he quickly realizes just how wet you really are as he worms his way into the slick crease of your body. It was clear he excited you way more than you were willing to let on and that pleases him a great deal. No wonder he’d been able to feel your pussy clenching on his thigh if this was how sensitive you were.

“Oohh, that’s - -!” You cut off with a flustered gasp when his tongue at last nudges your clit, a barely there, featherlight caress, but still more than enough to make you judder for him. How cute. He wasn’t even going to need five minutes at this rate.

Grinning into your cunt, Sampo undulates his wet tongue up to massage over that tender little button just gently enough to let you acclimate to the sensation. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off by going in too hard too fast but, to his continued delight, you warm up to it quickly enough. He can feel the shift in your body language when you start to relax into it, shyly jutting your hips out to better offer your pussy to his mouth. And you just keep getting stickier and stickier for him, saliva mixing with slippery arousal to leave your slit a mess with the viscous gossamar.

He can barely contain his own excitement when he at last starts to lick you in earnest, flicking his tongue up to swipe through fleshy creases and folds, bumping against your swollen clit head on. You beautifully jerk in response, hands fisting the bottom of your jacket into a wrinkled mess until you at last give in to the urge to reach for him.

Your fingers feel heavenly in his hair as you grab onto his head, even when they fiercely shake because of what he’s doing to you. Whining low in your throat, you again start to fidget and twist your pelvis as if to escape the onslaught of his attention and yet … you don’t actually move to pull away nor do you shove at him. You just stand there and take it while Sampo batters your poor little clit back and forth before finally sealing his lips around you to suckle.

That seems to make your knees almost give out, and you mewl a sensitive sound into the otherwise still and silent building when you weakly rock against him, clutching his hair so tight he thinks you might actually pull it out. Oh well, though. It would be well worth it once he won this little wager and got to put his hands on you.

“Oh! Nnghnn … gods, that’s …”

He suddenly pulls his head back with a loud, wet, obnoxious smack of his lips.

Chuckling softly under his breath at your frazzled whine, Sampo tips his head back to look up at you again. “Amazing? Wonderful? The best gosh darn feeling you’ve ever experienced? Well, little miss Silvermane Guard, are you still feeling so confident now?”

You shoot him a deeply embarrassed look accompanied with a soft, helpless whimper that rushes straight to his cock. It was clear enough that you didn’t know how to fully process any of this and you weren’t confident enough to take the lead either, to use him for your own pleasure like he so wished you would, but that was alright. He was keen to teach you a thing or two before this bet was finished.

“Do me a favor,” He husks, spreading his legs wider out across the floor to lessen some of the uncomfortable strain in his pants. “Turn around and back up on me. Hey, don’t look at me like that! It’s not so strange a request, is it? It’ll still feel good, I promise.”

“B - but that’s - -“

“A great idea, of course!” He cuts you off with a playful wink. “Just trust me. You won’t regret it.”

War wages across your face for a drawn out moment while you try to parse through this no doubt confusing situation. It’s a difficult thing to do though when your pussy was coated in slick and sticky saliva, begging for more attention that he wasn’t going to give you until you either complied or made him.

He would have been perfectly happy with the latter, truth be told, but ultimately the former wins out. You were just needy enough not to let common sense cloud your judgment and you stiffly disengage from him so you can shuffle back half a step.

Hands reaching down to hike up the back of your jacket as you spin around, showing off your (frankly amazing) ass, you nervously glance over your shoulder at him for further instruction. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now back up, and don’t be shy about it. Pretend like you’re going to sit on my face, mmkay’?”

You give him an exceedingly strange look before clearly deciding it wasn’t worth it to question him any further. He could see the flustered resignation in your expression even from where he was sitting, and he draws an anticipatory breath to brace himself when you finally start to nudge back on him.

If he’d had the use of his hands he would have been happy to yank you down and hold you in place no matter how much you squirmed and whined about it, but. Well. We can’t have everything we want in life, now can we?

Instead he has to make do with watching you slowly inch back towards him, stiff and halting even as his cock restlessly flexes inside his slacks. Unable to take the waiting any longer when you still hesitate at the last moment, he leans forward to meet you halfway and he shoves his face tight into the cradle between your legs, eliciting a startled squeak of surprise from you.

But then he opens his mouth wide, dragging his tongue from the starting dimple of your slit all the way up to your entrance where he teases you with the suggestion of penetrating you with it, and you seem to completely forget your initial reticence all at once.

Choking on a half formed moan, you blindly push back on him as you arch your back to better settle your cunt against his mouth and receive his attention. The force of it shoves his head back against the wall with a dull thud, making him groan a heavy sound into you, but it’s not near enough to deter him. Neither is the way you effectively cut off his air supply like this, making it almost impossible for him to breathe save whatever little bit he can pull in from his mouth. If anything it just fuels his own excitement to even greater heights as he hungrily laps at you now, swirling his tongue round and round your clit to leave you uncontrollably twitching against him.

And as the seconds continue to tick by in this fashion you become increasingly more fidgety and antsy until you’re all but writhing on his face with stiff, unpracticed swivels of your hips. It smears your cunt across his nose and mouth in the process, the rush that comes with it shooting straight down to his throbbing cock where it pitifully strains against the zipper, in need of a good tug or two. It probably wouldn’t have taken a whole lot to have him shooting hot ropes everywhere and he once again finds himself sorely wishing he had his hands.

But his inability to touch himself just seems to make it ache all the worse while, conversely, you appear to be enjoying yourself quite a bit despite the dire tinge in your stretched thin voice. Sampo can tell you don’t know what to do, how to make any sense of what’s happening to your body, and it just spurs him on to attack your defenseless clit with even greater ferocity.

Burn everything, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d been this hard.

And then you say it.

A breathless, tiny little, “M - Mister Sampo!”

That’s all it takes to make him cum, his hips stiffly rolling against the floor while he creams all over the inside of his underwear. He can hardly breathe through it, grunting a masculine sound into your cunt while the sensation of his fast cooling load bleeds into the front of his pants. In truth he’s so lost in the surge of fast pumping endorphins and potent adrenaline that it takes him a prolonged beat to realize that you’re cumming too.

Crying out in pleasure, you shake and judder through your release far longer than he does, sucking in one frantic breath after another while you sensitively squeal his name for the whole building to hear. If this had been anywhere other than the old city the two of you probably would have had a couple of good Samaritan’s running to check what was going on to make a woman cry out like that and he’d quickly find himself on the sharp end of another Silvermane weapon.

But luckily you are in the old city, not Belobog, and he slouches back against the wall with a heaving groan when you finally pry yourself away from him, still twitching with the lingering remnants of your orgasm. He only needs to take one look at you, legs trembling like a newborn foal while you try to orient yourself, and he knows what he needs to do.

Recovering much quicker than you do, Sampo leans forward even when it just makes his underwear give a wet squish at the change in position and flexes his arms to test the full range of motion allotted to him by the cuffs. They don’t even budge but that wasn’t a problem. He has enough room to flick his hand up and out, summoning a small blade of wind to slice clean through the metal chain connecting the two links with a barely audible rattle.

He quickly brings his hands around and reaches for you, grabbing onto your hips before you can react or even realize what’s happening. Completely ignoring your squawk of surprise, he yanks you down into his lap to sit on his still achingly rigid cock and he curls himself over you, chuckling softly at the way you gape up at him in barefaced shock.

“W - w - wha —“

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? You’ll need something a bit stronger than that if you want to keep me locked up. Surprised?”

Keeping one arm secured around your middle, he reaches down with the other to splay his fingers across your rapidly flexing stomach and then drags it lower to dip between your legs. You gasp and twist in his hold, uselessly smacking at whatever part of him you can manage to reach, but it’s all an effort in futility. He already had you trapped in his clutches despite all the squirming, and his gloved finger takes a casual swipe through the creases of your messy cunt to make you jolt.

“Well, well, would you look at that. I’d say I won our little bet, wouldn’t you? That means I get to put my hands all over you and … other things too, isn’t that right?”

“Wait! You can’t - - nnghn!”

Tossing your head back when he finds your sopping wet entrance and pushes one finger inside to feel the stretch, you seethe up at the ceiling. He’s acutely aware of your body trying to reject it and keep him out, but you were much too slippery to stop him even when your thighs valiantly squeeze shut around his hand.

“That’s a tight fit.” He murmurs, perfectly offhand while he makes casual work of slowly thrusting his digit in and out of you. Your pussy softly clicks with the motion, so wet for him that the smooth material of his glove slides easily through your constricting passage. The only response he gets is a sharp, overwrought hiss while you halfheartedly try to shove at his arm.

It was likely too soon after your orgasm when the nerves were still vibrating and tender, so he decides to take pity on you at least for the moment. Carefully withdrawing his hand from between your legs, he instead reaches up to yank at all the buttons and latches on your jacket to get that undone too. He couldn’t wait to see those tits for himself, and not even all your fitful writhing was enough to deter him from it.

You harp at him the whole time of course but Sampo just coos at you to relax while he fumbles to get the inner thermal shirt yanked up around your neck. With his chin tucked over your shoulder he has the perfect vantage point to look down at the soft white bra that holds your breasts in place and he takes a moment to indulgently squeeze at them through the material, kneading the flesh until you finally relent with a harried moan.

Only then does he hook his finger into the band and tug it down. Realizing what he’s doing, you make a desperate attempt to swat his hand away but the moment your tits spill out into the air you violently shudder so hard it seems to temporarily immobilize you. Punchdrunk and dazed, you reluctantly allow your head to loll back against his shoulder as he sets his sights on the stiff, pebbled peaks of your nipples.

“What do you know, Sampo Koski’s intuition is always right it seems.” He murmurs, quite pleased with himself as he tweaks one of the buds to leave you moaning in his lap. “I had a feeling these were going to be nice and juicy. Are you sure no one’s ever played with these before? You look like you’re enjoying this …”

You give a weak, faltering little mewl in response, tense fingers digging into his forearm where you’re clutching onto him for dear life. Chuckling a husky sound into your neck, he nuzzles against you to kiss and nip at the vulnerable skin there before slowly working his way up. Still idly toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling at them, he brushes his mouth across your cheek to finally claim those kissable lips for himself.

And you let him do it, groaning hotly into his mouth while he kisses you deeply and lays total claim on your person. There isn’t an inch of you that he won’t have touched by the time he was done, and the knowledge that he was undeniably going to be your first fills him with a sick sense of pride. The signs were all there, even if he did tease you contrarily. And oh, how he was going to wreck you for any other man. It would always be him who you thought of, comparing everyone else to the so-called crook who so expertly turned your own body against you on the floor of an abandoned building in the old city, and wasn’t that just the greatest punchline of all?

“Are you gonna’ be good for me?” He says at last when he carefully reaches under you to unfasten his pants, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “Gonna’ let this dirty old man have his way with you, right here, right now? Just like this? Hm?”

Lost in the stupor of your arousal, you blithely nod for him even as a brief flash of uncertainty crosses your face. It seemed that some part of you understood his intention, the full brunt of the implication of what he was about to do to you, but you were too far gone to stop it and it was already much too late. Sampo has his cock fished out and he pauses only long enough to give it a perfunctory tug, smearing his own spend over the length of it to help lubricate the way.

Angling it up, he blindly nudges through your soaked cunt until he feels the dip of your entrance, so wet and creamy against his tender glans it makes him suck in a slow breath. You go ramrod stiff in his hold, lurching forward as much as you can with his forearm still locked around your middle while your hands frantically ball into his jacket sleeves. There was no escaping it though, not in the wholly defenseless position he’s got you in, and you wordlessly cry out when he starts to push up.

A rattling breath puffs out of him as your pussy slowly spreads open around him, granting him entry to your body. The overwhelming heat of you accompanied by the too tight squeeze makes him glad for his first orgasm, premature though it may have been, because he isn’t so sure he could have held it back otherwise. Your guts are alive around him as he gradually sinks deeper and deeper into you, aided by the help of gravity. Vulnerably curled up on his lap like this, the only thing you can do is take it.

And you do take him, beautifully in fact. Every inch of his cock gradually slides into the tight embrace of your inner sleeve until he at last settles against the end of you with nowhere else to go. You wail a pitiful sound at the pressure that pushes in on your organs and choke on a tiny little sob as your trapped legs futilely kick at the air. It wouldn’t have helped much even if your pants weren’t tangled around them though, not when Sampo already had you fully impaled on him.

That'd been the deal, right?

Well, maybe it hadn’t been stated out right but that should teach you not to make deals with shady businessmen or Fool’s.

Rumbling a low sound of pleasure as he slides his hand around, caressing over the faint bulge created by his cock through your lower stomach, Sampo nuzzles at your face again to get your attention. He wanted to make sure you weren’t drifting off to la-la land on him, and when you tip your head to blearily glance up at him with a deep felt shudder, he allows himself a sly smile.

“Let me hear you scream my name again, pretty girl.” He purrs, narrow hips bracing to angle out of you so he can slam back in. “And don’t forget the ‘mister’ either. I think I rather liked how that sounded.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#honkai star rail #hsr #sampo koski #sampo x reader #self insert bullshit

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nerdygaymormon · 3 months ago

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Merry Queermas

I have a number of queer playlists, so thought I'd add one for Christmas.

Lesbians

Brandi Carlile - The Heartache Can Wait

girl in red - two queens in a king sized bed

k.d. lang - You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch (with Glee cast)

Indigo Girls - It Really Is (A Wonderful Life)

Jane Lynch - A Swingin' Little Christmas Time

Joan Jett - Little Drummer Boy

LADIES - Ladies, It's Cold Outside

Mary Lambert - Christmas Cookies (feat. Wyatt Hermansen)

Melissa Etheridge - It's Christmas Time

Raven Symoné - My Christmas Wish

Tegan and Sara - Make You Mine This Season

Gays

Adam Lambert - Please Come Home for Christmas

Barry Manilow - (There's No Place Like) Home for the Holidays

Bearforce 1 - Christmas is Here

Billy Porter - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Calum Scott - White Christmas

Darren Hayes - Last Christmas

David Archuleta - Christmas Every Day

Elton John - Step Into Christmas; Merry Christmas (with Ed Sheeran)

Erasure - Make It Wonderful (Bright Light Bright Light Remix)

Frankie Goes to Hollywood - The Power of Love

Johnny Mathis - It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Joshua Bassett - The Perfect Gift

Lil Nas X - Holiday

Luther Vandross - Every Year, Every Christmas

Matt Rogers - Also It's Christmas

Mister Chase and Chris Salvatore - Baby, It's Cold Outside

MNEK - Stopped Believing in Santa

Neon Trees - Holiday Rock

Pet Shop Boys - It Doesn't Often Snow at Christmas

Queen - Thank God It's Christmas

Ricky Martin - Ay Ay Ay It's Christmas

Rufus Wainwright - What Are You Doing New Year's Eve

Sam Smith - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas; The Lighthouse Keeper

Todrick Hall - Bells, Bows, Gifts, Trees

Wham! - Last Christmas

Wrabel - First Winter

Bi/Pan

Anne-Marie - Think of Christmas

Crystal Bowersox - Coming Out for Christmas

Demi Lovato - I'll Be Home for Christmas

Green Day - Xmas Time Of The Year

Jessie J - Man With the Bag

Phoebe Bridgers - If We Make It Through December

Sia - Santa's Coming For Us; Candy Cane Lane; Snowman

Trans, Gender Nonconforming, Fluid, Nonbinary

Bebe Rexha - Count on Christmas

Big Freedia - Make It Jingle

Miley Cyrus - Happy Xmas (War is Over)

Shea Diamond -Blame it on Christmas (feat. Cyndi Lauper); Mrs. Claus

Drag Queens

Alaska - Everyday is Christmas; Let It Snow (Ivan and Peter Mix)

Alaska, Courtney Act & Willam - Dear Santa, Bring Me A Man

Bob the Drag Queen - Sandra Claus

Detox - This is How We Jew It

Ginger Minj - Winter Wonderland (feat. Gidget Galore)

Manila Luzon, Peppermint & Alaska - We Three Queens

Nina West - Calista

Priyanka - Sleigh My Name

RuPaul - Hey Sis, It's Christmas

The Divas

Amy Winehouse - I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Ariana Grande - December; Santa Tell Me; Winter Things;

Ava Max - 1 Wish; Christmas Without You

Barbra Streisand - Jingle Bells?

Bette Midler - Cool Yule

Britney Spears - My Only Wish (This Year)

Carly Rae Jepsen - It's Not Christmas Till Somebody Cries; Mittens

Céline Dion - Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

Cher - DJ Play a Christmas Song

Christina Aguilera - The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting Over An Open Fire)

Diana Ross & The Supremes - My Favorite Things

Eurythmics - Winter Wonderland

Kacey Musgraves - Glittery (feat. Troye Sivan)

Katy Perry - Cozy Little Christmas

Kelly Clarkson - Underneath the Tree

Kylie Minogue - Every Day's Like Christmas

Leona Lewis - One More Sleep

Little Mix - One I've Been Missing

Lizzo - Never Felt Like Christmas

Madonna - Santa Baby

Mariah Carey - All I Want for Christmas is You; Oh Santa

Meghan Trainor - Holidays (feat. Earth, Wind & Fire)

Olivia Rodrigo - River

Taylor Swift - Christmas Tree Farm

————————————————————

Link to Spotify Playlist of these songs

Link to My Queer Playlist - Part 1 songs from 1939 to 1999

Link to My Queer Playlist - Part 2 songs from 2000 to 2015

Link to My Queer Playlist - Part 3 songs from 2016 to 2019

Link to My Queer Playlist - Part 4 songs from 2021 to present

Link to my Queer Disney Songs Playlist

Link to my K-Pop Queer Playlist

Link to my Queer Religious Playlist

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daddyhausen · 1 year ago

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commission 3/4 for @coleskingdom

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡「 THIS NIGHT BELONGS TO US 」｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 AEW MASTERLIST 」 | 「 WILL OSPERAY MASTERLIST 」

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — when threats of violence against your girls hightens, you have no choice but to recruit will and his gang for protection

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+, [ MINORS DNI ], mentions of sexual violence, mentions of injury, alchohol, gangs, daddy kink, submissive x dominant, dom!will, sub!reader, praise, hair pulling, dirty talking, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral sex [ male recieving ] male + female orgasms, groping, vaginal creampie, internal cumshot

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 5.6k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x will ospreay

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

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his tired eyes roamed the bustling london streets, still so full during the midnight hours, drunks getting their fill of cheap irish whiskey, slumped against desolate brick and rusted metal of a war torn city, steam and smoke billowing around their almost lifeless bodies from the factories and mills of the surrounding streets. whores nestled in alleyways, presenting themselves on street corners, naked, flaunting their bodies for him and his men, hoping they’d throw a couple of pounds their way for a good night’s fun. one whore in particular almost threw herself atop of his larger lackey, davis, running a manicured finger down the opening of his shirt, tracing shapes into the dirty blond almost light brunette tufts chest hair, beckoning him to bed her. he refuted by grabbing the back of her head, his large palm caressing the blonde, boyish bob of her scalp as he pulled her in for a sloppy, half-drunken kiss before stumbling to catch up to his other members.

the piss coloured lighting from residentials, reflecting a murky green in will’s natural gunmetal blues, would flicker off in haste. the silhouettes of mothers frantically rushing to put their children to bed, husband’s standing idle at the window, just barely peeking behind the sheer curtains, eying him down with a weary glare. after the war, one thing remained certain, he was still the most feared man this side of the thames. eyes would watch him cautiously, fearful and uncertain of his next move, a simple glance from him would send children scurrying back to their mother’s arms, and grown men to divert their attention to their shoes.

will straighten his cap, shielding his eyes from any onlookers, tightening his coat around the toned build of his figure, more for anonymity rather than comfort. the moon casted a heavy shadow upon him and his lackeys, them looking more like apparitions of evil over human beings. davis and kyle trailing behind in a joyous saunter, in a conversation amongst themselves. will remained silent, taking in the dull drone of the london cityscape he’d oddly missed so much while away. it was no serine french countryside, lined with vineyards and lush greenery he’d see in glimpses between fighting in bloodsoaked trenches. but there was comfort to it. it was home. the war changed will something fierce, he’s always been one so stoic, calloused, outright ruthless, but the things he’d seen, men torn limb from limb, their bodies blown from the trenches in chunks of meat and blood spray, bone and viscera. painful cries parted their lips, agonised screams ripped their vocal chords. grown men, respected soldiers desperately clinging to overworked nurses, cowering into these women, calling out to them as if they were their own mothers. he could still hear said screams at night, the pounding against the walls, although just in his mind sounded startlingly realistic, keeping him awake more nights than not.

he fiddled with the switchblade buried deep in his coat pocket, the metal cold against his calloused fingertips, hushing davis and kyle behind him as the velvety red lighting of the drunken angel’s tavern came into view. the exterior nestled in a side street, behind faded red brick and rotted tumbler slabs. it was a quaint little hotel will would frequent before the war, even less now since his business ventures forced him out of the city for months at a time.

“you think skye’s working tonight?” kyle, the youngest of their trio beamed at the recipient of his affections. blue eyes glimmering with hope, the act earning him a small shove from davis. the hotel was known to offer more…intimate services let’s just say.

“god kid, you're still head over heels for that girl?” davis quipped, a hearty chuckle leaving his lips. “you know she’s a whore right?”

“she loves me, she said so.” kyle frowned, annoyed at the mocking tone leaving the lips of his comrade, burying his slender figure into the warm cotton of his overcoat, as if to shield himself from the embarrassment, cheeks flushed red despite the meek august breeze.

will paused, coming to a halt in front of the hotel. a thunderous thud at his feet, a drunkard lay at half unconscious, blood and spit spraying onto the tips of will’s freshly polished oxfords. the red leaving an almost indelible stain against the shiny black, he’d surely have to get them re-done now. will peered up through sunken eyes, fixating on you, the madame of this refined establishment, wiping the dirt and grime from your hands, evidently being the one to knock the poor drunk on his ass.

“go home to your wife, john”. you spoke with a sombre yet annoyed tone in your voice, wiping the ruby red lipstick that had smeared down your chin. john, the aforementioned drunk, tugged at will’s dress pants in a feeble attempt to pull himself up, a bruised eyes and bloody nose, still oozing with fresh crimson met will’s gaze, putting two and two together to conclude the situation. john hobbled to his feet, eyes widening upon being face to face with london’s most feared, scurried away with a terrified gasp, nursing the possible broken nose you’d given him.

you flattened the skirt of your dress, assessing yourself in hopes that you were still modestly presentable for such revered gests. pearls still knotted in a matted mess around your neck, your hair in shambles as you tried to tidy yourself. you gave a soft, relieved sigh upon noticing the trio.

“ah, you boys are back! come in, come in!” you spoke in a rather chipper tone despite the rather odd circumstances that predecessor it. kyle and davis were quick to scoot by, offering a subtle nod in greeting each. will was quick, in your attempt to turn around, he grabbed your wrist tightly, his entire palm encapsulating the bone.

“and here i was thinking you’d retired from that line of work”, he spoke in hushed whispers, eyes flickering about the entryway for any suspicious stares. “i don’t think daddy up there would be too pleased knowing his daughter is still whoring herself out, and in his pub no less”

will pointed to the heavens with a smirk. the line of work he was suggesting left you offended, retorting with a scoff.

“says the one who’d require my services every sunday?’ the sarcastic quip on your part made will release his grip on your wrist.

“and besides, i have put that work behind me”. you cleared your throat. “although old johnny out there didn’t seem to take the hint”

“you want me to deal with him?” will’s voice still spoke softly, the whispers evidently close to your ear

“no. don’t worry, he's harmless. now come in, why don’t you. tell me how bermingham was”

your pre-established relationship with will was…complicated to say the least. always being present in each other’s lives, sexually for the most part, despite mutual romantic feelings, none were allowed to pan out quite so. him being groomed for military service, along with the strong underworld connections that had a choke of his family. as for yourself. you were a whore, as was your late mother before you. will would often visit the establishment you were working at during the late hours, engaging in moments of passion that would rival the most romantic of novels or the daringest of plays.

will followed you inside cautiously, eyes peering around the drunken angel’s dimly lit interior, in case another drunkard was to start something. he was instantly greeted with a swell of lively jazz and swing, brass and woodwind blaring, the joyful shrills of your girls and patrons alike. it was quite deafening for will to say the least, he had not heard such a ruckus since he got back from bermingham, even more so from france. he took note of your working girls, sitting atop men twice their age, who’s grubby hands groped and prodded their feminine flesh. their hungry eyes leering with ravenous intent, one akin to a predator hunting their prey, luring them into their inevitable demise. the entire interior bathed in the same velvety red that bled through the sheer cashmere curtains to the bleak london side streets, making the occupants inside look bloodsoaked by comparison. it was a rather lively sight, bodies squished against bodies, the scent of malt whisky and freshly cut tobacco from the most expensive cigars you could afford, for his standards at least they were still rather cheap. the stench caught in his throat, smoke watered his eyes as a puff was blown unintentionally in his direction. he figured he’d become just another body within the crowd if it weren't for your guiding hand leading him towards the bar.

“whiskey?” you offered, setting three glasses down on the table for him and his companions. will responded with a soft nod of his head, as silent as a mouse. davis already drunk on lust, eyelids fluttered shut, soft moans escaping the australian’s burly chest as one of your girls sat perched upon his lap, scantily clad, hips grinding against his own in a flurry of intoxicated passion. kyle on the other hand sat nervously beside his leader, giving a small nod in acknowledgement upon you pouring him the finest whiskey you owned. the youngest took a hastily gulp, as if it were to help calm his nerves. his eyes scanned around, searching, flickering from the dance floor, to the staircase, back to the bar, then the staircase again.

“skye’s upstairs, love.” you remarked, having previously recognised kyle’s almost puppy-like infatuation with your best working girl. “want me to go get her for you?”

“i’ll wait” he responded meekly with a sheepish smile, taking another small sip of his drink, feeling the malty liquid mingle with his taste buds.

“kid thinks he’s gonna marry her one day. he keeps saying it,” davis heckled between sloppy kisses, his large palms groping the full hips of the woman atop his lap. kyle avoided your gaze, instead letting his eyes fall to the amber liquid, halfway finished in his glass.

“i don’t see why not. skye’s a good girl.” you responded, throwing your bar rag across your shoulder after freshly drying used glasses. “and kyle…”

kyle’s eyes perked up at the sound of his name leaving your lips.

“the infatuation is very much reciprocated”

your eyes flickered to will for a moment, faltering to his hand which stirred whatever remnants of whiskey left in his glass before downing the rest of it. turning back to kyle, his canines bared as he smiled, a sine of pure joy across his lips. the youngest in their trio had been enamoured with skye since the day she started working for you, skye herself even confided in you about her attraction to the young gangster.

“anyway boys, how was your trip?” you questioned pouring will and kyle another glass. davis was far too occupied to even touch his first glass. your question is directed at will obviously, although kyle would be the one to answer.

“it was fine…” he responded quietly before will interrupted.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.” there was an unusual malice to will’s voice that your ears were not used to hearing. then again, will has never needed to use such a tone with you.

“i see…” you hummed rather meekly, your response calm and collected, a far cry from the agitated tone of will’s voice as he skulled down the remainder of his second glass, feeling the burn of the amber liquid slide down his throat. sliding your a couple of pounds for the drinks, those of which you hastily pushed back towards him. will remained silent, avoiding your gaze, accepting the pounds back. his mere presence after said trip was enough compensation to quell your thoughts. his eyes darling across the bar, silently reading the labels as a form of distraction, more from his own mind than your incessant questions.

you placed the bar rag, previously across your shoulder into the hamper beneath the till, silently reminding yourself to send skye down to the river in the morning for the laundry rounds.

speaking of the brunette, you caught her figure atop the staircase, stuffing the few pounds into the blouse of her dress that her recent client offered for her services. her eyes slightly glossy, red and swollen, full cheeks stained with dry tears and the undeniable swell and faint discoloration of formative bruising of fingers around her throat. your heart sank into your gut, it came with the territory, you skye and the rest of the girls knew that. she made eye contact with you offering a small smile, guiding herself down the stairs with slow, calculated steps, eventually joining the small gathering of you five, now four since davis had retired to the more secluded areas for the tavern’s rear, working girl in hand.

“everything alright, darling?” you questioned, her solemn expression noted, quickly diverging to the chipper skye you’re so used to. she joined kyle, the two conjoined at the hip at this point, the blue eyed boy shot a concerned look between the two of you.

“everything is fine, ma’am” it wasn’t you sure as hell knew that.

“take the rest of the night off hun. get some rest” you handed her a small envelope with the rest of her payment for the week, tips she made from tending the bar while you were out. “kyle, would you take her home please?”

the blond nodded softly at your request while skye had left to grab her coat from the back room.

“please watch over her tonight,” kyle’s eyebrows furrowed at the second half of your request.

“tell me who it was” the soft, puppy eyes soon darkened, reminiscent of a ravenous wolf. “you better fucking tell me or else-”

“listen here. do as i ask. she’s already gone through enough tonight, i don’t need you blowing a fuse and shooting up the joint” you reprimanded the blond, for if you were to tell, he would do exactly that. will’s eyes shuffled between the pair of you, silently observing the situation. kyle huffed, pulling skye close as she returned, coat in hand. she clung to his arm, holding on for what seemed like dear life as the two left.

only yourself and will left. his pupils searching for yours, only left with you gazing at the floor through half shut lids and fluttering eyelashes. your temples burned with the beginning of a headache slowly forming, taking a bottle of rum from the shelf and pouring yourself a hefty glass, downing it just as quickly as it left the bottle as if it would soothe the ache.

“can we speak? in private?” you gasped, the burn of the rum still present in your voice, the subtle croak of anguish and pleading just noticeable for will to catch on. he gave a small nod, he’d barely said a word since arriving, in a way it worried you, then again, will was never a talkative man. he followed you back behind the bar, a small entry was off to the right leading straight to your office.

it was different than he last remembered. the walls faded from a vibrant emerald green to that of sage, floral decals of the wallpaper, scratched and peeling, reminiscent of rotting roses rather than blooming ones. paint chips flaking from the windows, sprinkled across the window seals, like the asbestos that lined the walls. the room hadn’t been furnished in a while. the same desk that had been sitting there since you opened the joint, books stacked haphazardly under one of the legs for support after it had broken the last time. paperwork scattered across it, scribbles of administrations, finance and other business necessities written in fading, dried out ink. you’d placed a small single bed in the corner of the room, most nights you don’t even return home, far too busy drowning in paperwork, in desperate need to keep your business afloat.

you sat atop the bed, head in your hands, letting out a heavy sigh. patting the space beside you on the dusty pink bed spread, offering him a seat, one of which he was far too eager to accept. the two of you sat in silence for a moment, although this one seemed like forever.

“i’m struggling here will” you confessed, clearing your throat as your eyes, teary and red, peered at to meet his cool blues. will, remained stoic, expression never changing, battle hardened and almost soulless. it was the price he had to pay for his line of work. he said nothing, simply scooting over on the bed, offering a gentle hand on your thigh and a shoulder to rest your head on.

“tell me” he spoke after some time of silence, not caring that your tears stained the white cotton of his shirt, small pools of grey forming in the fabric. you’d missed this, missed his comfort, missed his touch. the war had left him with an inability to connect emotionally, the trauma he faced, the deaths he saw, the loss of friends, brothers, blood or not, made him believe he was destined for an eternity of loneliness.

you straightened up, sniffling the remnants of your tears away.

“i need protection. for my girls.” you began, throat running dry with anguish. will had offered his men for protection previously when you first reopened your establishment, although you declined. you’ve seen and dealt with enough shit that you’d manage just fine.

“and what do i get out of it” he hummed with a disgruntled sigh, not on your part whatsoever. he was surely to run out of men to those hiring them out all the time.

“you get forty percent of my monthly earnings-”

“i don’t want your money…” will let out a hefty grunt, smoothing down the scruff of his beard.

“then what do you want?”

“just tell me when them bastards are and i’ll deal with it”

you remained quiet for a moment, wanting to seek comfort in will’s words but the stubborn bastard would not let you past the gate.

“them bullet club boys…”. you responded after a brief moment. your voice grew meek and sheltered. in will’s absence, said gang took it upon themselves to wreak havock on the majority of the whorehouses and pubs in the county, them girls were nothing more than toys for them to play with, discard when they proved no use to them anymore.

“we were like sitting ducks…and god…well, you saw skye did not?”

he did. he saw the bruising and the welts, the fear in her eyes, not just hers but the other girls too. his jaw clenched tightly, almost until the point of the maw peaked out from beneath the skin. his gaze hardening to an undeniable scowl.

“not to mention they’ve been raiding our liquor supplies, we’re losing more money than ever-”

“that’s why the fuckin’ bastard told me to come alone.”

“who?” you questioned

“jay fuckin’ white”

you’ve heard of the infamous jay white and his bullet club. how he was one of the most revered mercenaries this great country has ever come across. been putting bullets in politicians' heads since before the war, you've heard, whether they deserved it or not. will briefly mentioned him the night before he left for his aforementioned trip, although he did not confide in you with the details or his reasoning for leaving on such short notice.

“it was a fuckin’ set up. that prick must have found out about the dodgy guns we sold em…” will was muttering in nonsensical phrases to himself, so deep in thought and frustration

you pulled away from will slightly, jaw tensing in your own right.

“so you mean to tell me my girls are getting abused because of your shoddy business practices?!” your fists balled at your sides, shoving him angrily, although it barely put a dent in his stance. he just stood there and took

“it wasn’t supposed to happen this way-”

“well it did. do you know how much it hurts hearing those girls say how scared they are to come into work because they don’t know if their going to get assaulted or fucking killed?!” your voice cracked through screams.

“i know! i will fix it-”

“how? tell me how you’re going to weasel your way out of this one, will?”

the both of you stood at opposite ends, despite the cramped space of your office you'd never felt so apart. will let out a heavy sigh, the blues of his eyes dulled grey with regret. he took his seat on the bed again, just as you did to him previously.

“look …i’ll send the best men i got to protect your girls…but…” he paused, a thick gulp rising in his throat, eyes searching around in contemplation. “i can’t promise something like this won't happen again. when white wants something, he won’t stop until he has it”

“what could he possibly want here? besides a fuck and a drink?” your comment seemed jovial on the surface. but the prospect made your blood boil, your business was sinking and your girls tormented all because will couldn’t play clean. will was silent for a moment, lips pursed and brows furrowed, chewing the inside of his cheek in hope it would distract him from the regret lingering in his mind.

“revenge .” he simply stated. “white knows you're…a weakness of mine”

will’s hand fell to your thigh. not in a suggestive manner that you were used to with former clientele. it was gentle. protective. dare you say…attentive, loving almost. your skin tingled mildly at the sensation, having not experienced such intimate, almost romantic skin on skin contact in a long while. will’s thumb caressed the top of your knee, the calloused pad gritty and rough like sandpaper against your exposed skin.

“that’s why he targeted you…your business…” he corrected, clearing his throat. “he knew it would kill me more to see you suffer than put a bullet in my head outright”

the gruffness in his voice varied between anger and worry, wavering between his regular tone and a whisper. you felt his body inching closer, hand still present on your thigh, although tightening his grip the slightest. the butterflies that once fluttered joyously in your stomach, now seemed like moths lingering around the barely snuffed out flame of your attraction to him. it still was there…just barely.

“will…” you kept your gaze averted, feeling the blues of his eyes running hot with his stare, burning into your cheek with a concern, on edge about your next words or if you were to speak again at all.

“i want it to go back to the way it was…” he blurted out. “us, i mean…”

“will you know that's not possible-”

“how so. i still love you and i damn well know you feel the same” his voice becoming hostile momentarily but he kept himself grounded.

“you never loved me will that was just the drink and your dick talking” you interrupt feeling a pang of guilt in your stomach, adding to the moths that gnawed holes through your insides.

“and besides, even if that weren’t the case. if you truly did love me, we’re just two very different people now. you're a criminal, will and i’m the lowly barmaid who serves your drink. our lives should only be connected by transactions''

although it pained you to say it, it was the truth. will’s life was far too dangerous for you to be fully invested in now. you did not want to spend nights worrying if he was gonna come home injured, or not come home at all. sitting on his lap and tending to his wounds while he vents about all the trouble he has caused to himself. as alluring and romantic as that sounds…you just couldn’t.

“it doesn't have to be this way, love…” his hands were still firmly upon your thigh, grip tightening as his palm caressed the skin. fingertips dancing against the hem of your dress skirt. fluttering against the frill and ruffles, a dangerous act it was.

“you can’t tell me you don’t miss it” he hummed, breath barely ghosting against your earlobe. will’s breath hitched in his throat momentarily, the memories flooding back to his mind in waves. a subtle smile forms across will’s lips. you let your eyes flutter shut, trying to turn your mind off from will’s persistent words. not that it proved much effort, he was always a persistent man.

“remember?“ he lulled. “all those nights, my cock buried inside you. how you’d whimper and beg for me, knowing that i fucked you better than any of your regulars ever could?”

oh you remembered. you remembered well. there were times the both of you would stay overnight at the establishment, curled up in the sheets of your sleeping quarters, specifically used for such enjoyment, at times having to hide him behind your dresser, a mountain of discarded clothes and bedsheets, pretending you were asleep as your madame made the rounds for the night.

and will was right…by god, you did miss it. you missed him.

“will…” you mumbled alluringly, craning your head back slightly to meet his gaze. the blues of his irises dissipated behind blown out pupils, all lust filled and needy. he gave a small hum in response, his lips barely millimetres from yours, tongue jutting out to wet them slightly. heat rushed through you, arousal ebbed and flowed in your belly, teetering between genuine attraction and lustful desire. you could close the gap between your lips if you so wanted, letting will claim you like he’d done a thousand times over, but you hesitated, staring deep into those ocean blues for a moment, gauging to see if his words were turtle genuine or just the drink talking again.

“i want to go back…” you reminisced, pressing your lips to the corner of his, trailing down his jawline and neck. the action is sloppy and desperate. a low rumble persisted in will’s throat, his adam’s apple bobbing with a thick gulp, trying to stifle the arousal that swelled within him. “i want to love you…”

his breath hitched in his throat, your palm running up and down his bulge, the outline so prominent in his pants. a groan slipped past his lips, leaving his mouth agape, no matter how hard he tried to stifle them, your touch was just too magnetic for him to resist.

“please…” your whimpers lulled him further into the sinful abyss, feeling his cock stiffen against your palm, your fingers lazily unbuttoning his pants all the while maintaining the most sultry of eye contact with him.

he gave a nod, a subtle one nevertheless, a heavy sigh fell from his lips upon the brisk midnight air hitting his shaft. the thickness bulging and pulsing in your palm. oh how he missed the feeling. with dainty movements your fingertips traced around the tip, engorged and flushed red, lossy beads of precum oozing from the slit.

“god, i forgot how big you were,” you joked, stroking the base of his shaft with tight, short pumps. will gave a hearty chuckle, one that resounded in his belly, the soft gruff chortle leaving his lips.

“it’ll feel even bigger once it’s inside you, love” his words are spoken through an almost breathless whisper, accentuated by subtle groans and choked moans. you licked the slit of his tip, fleshy tongue gathering precum on the appendage, tasting him for the first time in years.

you were far eager to tease him. instead letting the tip of his cock slip past your lips, a slight popping sound as he broke though the seal. thick pulsing veins danced against your tongue as you worked him over with your mouth, taking him as deep as your throat would allow, surprised that you were still able to take such a length.

his cock made a home in the back of your throat, teasing it as you gagged at sputtered around him, corners of your lips burning, feeling as if they were going to tear from the sheer girth of his cock

“fuck-” his voice echoed with a deep, throaty rumble. eyelids fluttered shut in momentary pleasure before peering down at your still clothed form, full breasts barely covered, about to spill out from your blouse. your hands fell to them, kneading the supple mounds through the clothing, feeling your nipples perk up and harden at the contact through the fabric

“that’s it love, keep going. keep suckin’ daddy’s cock, oh fuck- just like that”

will’s roughened fingertips slid through strands of your hair, intertwining in the vine-like locks, tugging slightly up, allowing you a sliver of breathing room, barely a second for you to breathe before shoving you back down face first on his cock, until the bulge of his shaft was evident in your throat.

“you always like it rough didn’t you?” he hummed through faux malice, putting on the dominant facade he was famed for. “such a good fuckin’ whore, chokin’ on my dick like this”

his lovely, albeit domineering praise made your belly flutter with such unbridled wonder, reminiscing about the times he’s previously had his dick stuffed in the back of your throat, how he’d leave you gagging around that veiny, thick shaft of his. spit seeped from between your lips, drooling down his shaft, spit bubbles gathering at the base each time you’d bob your head, his tip violently prodding at the back of your throat.

“fuck, love…” he panted. “i know you wanna swallow my cum but i gotta fill that pretty cunt of yours”

he pulled your head up, your eyes red and glassy, spit dripping down your chin. glossy and shiny under the dull bedside lamp. will’s fingers were quick to work. not bothering to undress you fully, instead letting his hands roam up the skirt of your dress, groping the flesh beneath. he pulled you onto his lap, fingers, tugging your panties to the side, the tip of his cock prodding your walls, gathering your slick around the head, just revelling in it .

“so fuckin’ wet for me…” he hummed through clenched teeth , still overly sensitive from the work of your lips. your silence was all the more alluring for him, only breathless mutters and moans leaving your lips as you lowered yourself onto his cock. the stretch of your walls instantaneous around his size, he felt it too, how you spread so easily for him. just like you always did.

your hips instantly began to work, swirl and grind against his cock, allowing yourself to embrace him completely, the generously rough yet slow thrusts he gave sent your mind reeling with pleasure.

“god, you’re squeezin’ me, love…not gonna last if you keep this up”

your cunt clenched around his length, feeling yourself buckle under the weight of the pleasure, letting him sink into you completely. will leaned in, his lips capturing yours in feverish kisses, bodied melting into one under candlelight.

“oh fuck..” you whimper, feeling his tip poke and prod at the fleshy wall of your cervix, unable to sink down on him any further, for he would surely split you in half. With eyes half lidded and a love-drunk, stare, peering down at him through your eyelashes, fluttering in and out of a lust filled consciousness as pleasure rocked your very core.

“will…” your stomach bubbled with arousal, so close and on the brink of release. will hummed softly, his cock twitching with excitement as his name left your lips with shaky whimpers, fingertips delicately trailing down his clothed torso, feeling the outline of his pristine abdominal muscles through the fabric.

“you close, sweetheart?”

you nod, instinctively to his question.

“mhm.. can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me. so fuckin’ tight” will threw his head back, biting his bottom lip to further suppress his moans.

“fuck- you gonna be a good girl and cum ‘round this dick? make a fuckin’ mess for daddy, huh?”

words were trapped like rocks in your chest, rendering you useless and unable to speak. again, you nodded, this one more frantic than the last. arousal exploded in your veins, the clench of you around his dick was enough to bewitch him, as if that had not happened already. watery sweetness gushed down your thighs, seeping down the length of his cock, not even bothering about your now ruined sheets, you did not care, the pleasure was too euphoric.

will let out a pleasured, groan, pressing his hand to the bulge of your belly where his cock was evidently protruding from the skin, feeling your tightness grip in for dear life. pulling you closer to his broad chest, sweaty skin colliding in heated passion. he released deep inside you, making sure your tight cunt milked every last drop of his cum, not leaving until he’d emptied himself fully deep into your womb.

“shit..” he muttered, attempting to pull himself out of you, despite your bodies contorted in passion.

“no , it’s okay…” you hummed, voice hoarse from begging and pleading his name. nails soothingly leaving light trails atop his shoulders, his size still firmly buried inside of you, all wet and warm.

“you look so beautiful like this,” he murmured through a soft sigh, tucking stray strands loosely curled hair behind your ear, a thumb gingerly tracing across the indent of your cheek.

”what? naked?”

will gave a small chuckle.

“well, yes for one.” he smiled. “in my arms i mean”

your office fell into a comfortable silence, the lively ramblings and music from patrons outside were dulled through the walls as you sat quietly, will’s arms wrapped around your waist tracing inconsistent shapes into the small of your back.

”i just hope i can stay in them forever..”

”trust me love…i’ll make sure of it”

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#will ospreay #will ospreay x reader #will ospreay smut #aew #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #aew imagine #aew wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew lb

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years ago

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.⋆｡His Pick｡⋆.

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

His Choice Masterlist

She never thought this day would come, and she certainly never imagined that he would be the one to buy her yet fate has come to collect

Chapter Warnings: implied reader was kidnapped and manipulated into being a pleasure slave, dubcon, reader is sold to Kylo, blood

WC: 741

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

There are many things of value in the galaxy, ranging from money to food. But where true power lies is in the obtaining of the most rare and precious things. The Empire tried but their focus was too narrow, too conservative. That is why they fell. The First Order was shiny and new, they did not enslave or create, they incentivised their troops.

And by far, the most luxuriously awarded were those who ruled. Hux received far more money than a normal person could ever dream of for his role, Phasma had her power and weapons. And the young Padawan of the Supreme Leader, he would receive his compensation soon enough.

In the throngs of upper class, there was a rumour, a whisper of a planet where there were no rules for those who had the coin. And on the edge of the desert, by the wreck of a destroyed Jedi Starship, there was a brothel. A brothel so vast, you could find anything or anyone your heart desired, and if you could pay, you could take them home.

The dilapidated palace exploded with activity when it was revealed that the First Order was on their way, the feared Kylo Ren leading the charge. The youngest of the slaves had been stuffed into a decorative outfit much too small for her plump frame, her heavy tits spilling out around the gold triangles tied with flimsy string that had been her top. She was forced to stand beside the other more experienced slaves, dressed in a similar manner, as the huge black ship finally landed before them.

This was the day she feared more than anything. She had been warned by the others that all who came to this planet on the edge of the system were cruel, coming here to get a slave for themselves and then abandoning them when they broke. And with the last in the long line of women being the largest of the women, she was more coveted, going for a much higher price so only the richest, cruellest being would take her.

But whatever she had imagined, it couldn’t have been worse than this.

The first time she laid eyes on him, he had been surrounded by stormtroopers, but he was still over a head taller than even the biggest of his soldiers. His black cloak and helmet hid every part of himself from the universe, leaving her staring at the blank slate of a man that appraised her. His gloved hand cupped her full cheek, almost fully covering the side of her head. Her heart hammered with anxiety as the Supreme Leader’s pet tilted her head, getting a good look at her scantily covered body.

Power radiated off of him, drowning her, making her feel incredibly small as she fell into his shadow. He did not need to speak for her to know the threat he posed. If any disobeyed or rebelled, they would be killed before their pleading could escape their lips.

With a nod to the hutt that held her chain, she was given over to a stormtrooper and a huge purse of money dropped at her previous captor’s feet. “Wait please-“ A yank on her leather collar shut her up quickly, making her stumble forward and collapse to her knees on the course sand. The red fabric that had been covering her soft inner thighs fluttered before her as she caught herself, hands digging into the hot ground.

Kylo paid her no attention, simply turning his broad back to her and making his way back to the ship, his black robes standing out against the bright desert landscape. His helmet bobbed as he gave silent orders to his troops who quickly fell back into line.

“Get up slave.” The stormtrooper growled as they pulled on the solid metal chain, forcing her further into the sand. She whimpered and attempted to pull herself up without exposing anymore of her body to the many people that surrounded her, including her new owner but only succeeded in cutting her hands on a sharp rock embedded deep within the sand.

The slave stumbled to her feet, bright red blood dripping down her fingers and staining the sand below her. “Pathetic.” The trooper grumbled, giving her only a moment to right herself before tugging her forward, forcing her to follow them. The dark hull of the ship closed in around her, sealing her away into her tomb.

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redtsundere-writes · 11 months ago

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Can you write a Sukuna x Uraume fic, where they both go to Mexico since well....why not??? and Sukuna is tortured by the all of the spicy shit and all while at the same time loving pulque and other Mexican foods that are not spicy? if you can add Sukuna and Uraume going back to Japan after learning a large ammount of swearwords in Mexican like "Te voy a tumbar los ojos, pendejo" "Cagaste cabron" "the voy a chingar a tu putísima madre wey" and something along dose lines, it would be AMAZING...thank you!

Masiosare | Sukuna x Uraume (English)

mexican!sukuna ryomen x uraume

ENGLISH VERSION! ! ! (Haz click aquí para la versión en Español!)

Sypnosis: Sukuna discovers he is Mexican and wants to visit Mexico with Uraume. Contents: A LOT OF MEXICAN REFERENCES (but I explain them in case you are not part of the club, don't worry boo.) I tried to explain them as best I could so if there's something you don't understand, just let me know! Translations. A lot of them. Fluff. Is a crack fic but not really? Uraume uses They/Them pronouns. Human Sukuna. Word Count: 1583 words. Author's Note: I laughed so hard while writing this, I can do so because I am literally Mexican (iykyk) Thanks anon for the request! I rediscovered a lot of songs I usually dance to in weddings or quinceañeras. I couldn't stop bobbing my head lol. Wait... Am I turning into a señora? Welp... * = Definition on comments

Uraume is a faithful servant. They follow the supreme king wherever he wants to go. So when Sukuna asked her to go on a journey of self-discovery with him, they thought they would go to a sacred temple or a paradisiacal place in Japan. What he never expected was that he would want to go to Mexico. Uraume knew that he liked to explore new lands to conquer them later on, but traveling to another continent for funsies seemed excessive, but they did not question it.

After a long journey to discover his origin, Sukuna discovered that he was born in Mexico, but did not live there for long. So as soon as he met with Uraume again, he asked them on a journey to reconnect with his roots as any whitexican* would do. That’s how the king and his faithful servant set out on their journey to new lands.

After two days of travel, Sukuna and Uraume arrived in Cotija de la Paz, Michoacán. A lively magical town* with stone roads, leafy trees and hardworking people everywhere. The characteristic Spanish architecture, orange walls and beautiful colorful mosaics caught the attention of the newcomers. The first thing they did when they arrived was to buy new clothes to mix themselves among the locals. Sukuna bought a white guayabera* with black shorts and sandals, while Uraume opted to wear a Mexican pink* summer dress.

Once they settled in, our protagonists decided to wander aimlessly in search of something interesting to do while drinking aguas frescas* they bought in a Michoacana*. They wandered through the main park, watched the squirrels sprinting across the lawn and the people setting up the rides for the summer fair. They sat on a rusty bench to watch in fascination the gigantic church that could be seen from any part of town, several locals were going out to eat after the spiritual service.

“I'm hungry,” Sukuna complained as soon as he got bored of admiring the view.

They both wandered through the town until they came across a long line to eat at a local restaurant. That could only mean they must be serving delicious food. On the plastic sign hanging from the ceiling, a pig in a chef's hat could be seen inside a boiling pot. It was a Michoacán-style carnitas restaurant. Michoacán-style carnitas are pork fried in its own lard, but the secret is that the lard is flavored.

“We'll eat here,” Sukuna decided for both of them before going into the place. Uraume only followed him closely.

As expected of a king, Sukuna cut the line causing everyone waiting to start cursing him in Spanish. They screamed things like “Metete a la fila, cabron!” (“Get in line, you bastard!”) or “¡Quitate, pendejo!” (“Get out of the way, asshole!”) Paying no attention to the rabble, they sat down at a white plastic Coca-Cola table that had an assortment of condiments, like salsa, salt and limes, in the middle. Sukuna snapped his fingers a couple of times to get the waitress attention quickly.

“Disculpe, pero debe respetar la fila.” (“Excuse me, but you must respect the line.”) The waitress asked him very angrily. To which Sukuna only answered leaving a bag full of gold coins on the table, leaving the waitress completely disconcerted but happy.

“Le traeré una orden de carnitas de inmediato.” (“I'll bring you an order of carnitas right away.) The waitress changed her attitude with a big smile as she ran to the kitchen.

Sukuna and Uraume were impressed to see the pot full of carnitas, a tower of corn tortillas and two little jars of pulque.* Uraume could see the fat dripping from the food and their mouth watered. Sukuna didn't hesitate to make himself a taco and pour some of the reddest salsa in the assortment. Uraume warned him to try it first because they heard that Mexicans love spicy food, but the king ignored him thinking his taste buds would be fine. Big mistake. The king felt his mouth on fire at the first bite. His eyes began to water and his nose began to run, but he didn't crack. Sukuna swallowed the delicious fatty meat dipped in red sauce. He took a gulp of the pulque like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert. Uraume just ate their tacos with some green salsa with a calm mind having warned him.

Night fell faster than they thought, but the rides in the plaza came to life. The center of town was filled with families walking among the rides, colored lights illuminated the streets, vendors shouted promotions at the top of their lungs, and the music of Los Angeles Azules blared from the speakers. Sukuna and Uraume had jumped on the mechanical game that seemed to attract the most people. The famous tagada, a spinning plate on which those entering had to hold on tightly without letting go, as the sudden movements made by the tagada caused people to jump or bounce off. The game began to spin as soon as the loudspeakers began to play Arremangala Arrempujala by Los Karkik's, a song that Sukuna completely hated within the first second.

“Ay wey!” A man shouted next to Sukuna, who was slipping little by little due to the sudden movements.

“I don't understand why people like this,” Sukuna commented to Uraume in boredom as they spun out of control.

“¡Ya llegó La Monja!” (“The Nun is here!”) The boy, who was controlling the game, announced.

To the surprise of the two foreigners, a man disguised as a possessed mummy entered the game and began to dance to the rhythm of the music, balancing perfectly, while the game continued to shake and spin vigorously. Sukuna and Uraume watched in bewilderment as the mummy did his sexiest dance moves in the middle of the tagada while the crowd clapped along to the rhythm of the song.

“I think that's why they like it,” Uraume commented without taking his eyes off her.

“¡Es hora del amor!” (“It's time for love!”) The boy at the controls gave the excited announcement over the microphone.

Out of nowhere, the area where Uraume was standing began to shake violently. They held on tightly to the metal bars behind them as if their life depended on it. Their body moved violently towards Sukuna because of gravity. Slowly the boy at the controls managed to get Uraume to fall sitting on Sukuna's lap. They both blushed at the situation they had gotten themselves into for wanting to get on one of the games. Even though the boy had succeeded in his task, Uraume was still bouncing up and down on his king. They tried to pull themself back to their place, but it was practically impossible.

“I'm sorry, my king!” Uraume exclaimed between stutters with pink cheeks.

“¡Vivan los novios!” (“Long live the bride and groom!”) The boy exclaimed over the microphone, followed by a wave of applause.

Finally, the ride was over, but their blushes still hadn't gone down. They were embarrassed that mere locals could put them in that awkward situation. Sukuna was starting to get annoyed that he couldn't get out of his head how adorable Uraume looked sitting on his lap. “Puta madre...” (“Fucking hell…”) He thought annoyed.

“What do you want to eat?” Sukuna asked them in an attempt to overcome the awkwardness.

“I've seen a lot of people buying from that cart, I want to know what it is,” Uraume pointed to a white cart with a hand-painted corn on the side.

It was a cart of corn on a stick.* A lady greeted them in high spirits as they approached the giant pot of boiled corn. They both ordered a corn on a stick. They watched as the lady quickly prepared their orders. First a layer of butter, then a layer of mayonnaise, salt, and a heaping helping of grated cotija cheese. They didn't know it, but they were about to taste one of Mexico's finest culinary creations.

“¿Con chile, chile del que no pica o sin chile, corazón?” (“Spicy, not so spicy or no spice, sweetheart?”) The lady asked with a friendly smile.

“Del chile que no pica.” (“Not so spicy.”) Sukuna replied, flattered by the sweet nickname.

Sukuna and Uraume continued to wander around the fair as they entertained themselves by watching people partying in their natural habitat. Although it was past midnight, the night was still young. As they walked through the games of chance and skill, a drunk ran into Uraume, causing them to drop their corn on the floor. Uraume was saddened to see the fate of their delicious snack.

“¡Oye, cabrón!” (“Hey, you bastard!”) Sukuna yelled at the man with the curse words he had learned today, not caring that his Japanese accent stood out. He handed his corn to Uraume to grab the stranger by the shoulders roughly. “¡Mira por donde pinche caminas, pendejo de mierda!” (“Watch where you're fucking walking, asshole!”) Sukuna screamed annoyed before throwing him into a trash can. Uraume thought someone would come to the drunk man's defense, but to their surprise, no one around him batted an eye at the small fight.

“Your corn, sir.” Uraume gave his snack back once Sukuna returned while wiping his hands.

“Keep it,” Sukuna told them. Uraume blushed for the kind action of his king. “I asked for not so spicy and my mouth is in fire,” he grudgingly complained. Uraume could not help but laugh.

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bobsliquorstore · 2 years ago

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#bobsliquorstore #bobs liquor store #90s #hypebeast #ebt #supreme #bape #dipset #bobsliquor #malcolmx #malcolm little #alex haley #the autobiography of Malcolm x

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smshiptournament · 9 months ago

Text

Spooky month ship tournament announcement!

This poll tournament has been inspired by @itsnotmourn spooky month shipchart, most of the ship names come from there so go check it out.

It has also been inspired by other blogs like @confessions-sm and @smpolls

What is this tournament about?

Well, its about a ton of ships fighting in polls to determine which is the supreme ship. I realized that there were several ship tournaments on Twitter but none on Tumblr, so here it is!

This has been done for pure fun so don't be rude with each other please.

This also has been done by someone who had the idea at 4 am in the morning so sorry if its messy.

How many ships are here?

Uhh...

Poisonwine (Lila x Skidad)

Lilacvan (Lila x Frank)

LavenderSugar (Lila x CD)

Lilacdonuts (Lila x Jack)

LavenderSmoke (Lila x John)

LilacCandy (Lila x Kevin)

Lilacblanket (Lila x Rick)

LilacRats (Lila x Dexter)

Lilacbats (Lila x Streber)

Deadlavender (Lila x Patty)

Goldenlavender (Lila x Jaune)

Grapemeat (Lila x Bob)

Rosewine (Lila x Carmen)

RichLavender (Lila x Richard)

BurningLavender (Lila x Ignacio)

LavenderMeds (Lila x Mort)

SinlessLilac (Lila x Moloch)

Saviorvan (Skidad x Frank)

BlackLicorice (Skidad x CD)

CultClassic (Skidad x Radford)

Richwine (Skidad x Richard)

Holyfire (Skidad x Ignacio)

StarrySavior (Skidad x Eyes)

ShadyBusiness (Frank x CD)

PoliceChase (Frank x John)

Jawbreaker (Frank x Kevin)

Tiredvan (Frank x Rick)

Clickbait (Frank x Radford)

VANRAT (Frank x Dexter)

Batmobile (Frank x Streber)

Bananawheels (Frank x Jaune)

Kingcobra (Frank x Aaron)

Limousine (Frank x Carmen)

HolyBuck (Frank x Gregor)

Hotwheels (Frank x Ignacio)

Loveheist (FT x TT)

SugarSmokes (CD x John)

SpikedCandy (CD x Kevin)

Miserysucker (CD x Rick)

PiratedFilm (CD x Radford)

BloodSugar (CD x Streber)

SpikedWhiskey (CD x Richard)

BurningSugar (CD x Ignacio)

Smokeydonuts (Jack x John)

Sweetdonuts (Jack x Kevin)

ForensicDeputy (Jack x Patty)

Lemondonuts (Jack x Jaune)

MotorDonuts (Jack x Aaron)

DrunkinDonuts (Jack x Richard)

CaptainDonuts (Jack x Captain)

CandyCigarettes (John x Kevin)

DeadSmoke (John x Rick)

Smokeybusiness (John x Evermore)

Smokeymotors (John x Aaron)

GunSmoke (John x Shotgun)

Sourcandy (Kevin x Rick)

Caramelpopcorn (Kevin x Radford)

Ratcandy (Kevin x Dexter)

Candybats (Kevin x Streber)

Macaron (Kevin x Carmen)

SweetCigar (Kevin x Richard)

Spicycandy (Kevin x Ignacio)

EyeCandy (Kevin x Eyes)

Bitterpopcorn (Rick x Radford)

RatNap (Rick x Dexter)

Sleepybats (Rick x Streber)

Jadedego (Rick x Evermore)

Miserymeat (Rick x Bob)

Moneyloss (Rick x Richard)

Poisonedpopcorn (Radford x Dexter)

Scarymovie (Radford x Streber)

Slasherfilm (Radford x Bob)

Cinemoney (Radford x Richard)

Burntpopcorn (Radford x Ignacio)

ButterShot (Radford x Shotgun)

Ratbat (Dexter x Streber)

Labrats (Dexter x Patty)

Sunnycide (Dexter x Jaune)

Ratmeat (Dexter x Bob)

Ratqueen (Dexter x Carmen)

Infestment (Dexter x Richard)

Batmeat (Steber x Bob)

Batbucks (Steber x Richard)

Actorbats (Steber x Actor)

ShowBats (Steber x Actress)

DeadSunflower (Patty x Jaune)

Deadmeat (Patty x Bob)

Cleancoin (Patty x Carmen)

LaidOff (Patty x Richard)

Spiritmorgue (Patty x Moloch)

Moneyhungry (Evermore x Bob)

Taxfraud (Evermore x Richard)

Hotdebate (Evermore x Ignacio)

BulletBill (Evermore x Shotgun)

ClinicalNarcissist (Evermore x Mort)

Funnybusiness (Evermore x Garcia)

Motorhead (Jaune x Aaron)

Meatqueen (Bob x Carmen)

Richmeat (Bob x Richard)

LastSupper (Bob x Gregor)

Heartburn (Bob x Ignacio)

MeatCanyon (Bob x Shotgun)

Meatpie (Bob x Mr Clown)

Bloodsacrifice (Bob x Moloch)

Highheels (Carmen x Richard)

GunsNRoses (Carmen x Shotgun)

HeavenlyOffering (Richard x Gregor)

Shotglass (Richard x Shotgun)

Showbiz (Richard x Actor)

WealthyWill (Richard x Grandpa Wonder)

PumpkinSpice (Richard x Pump's Father)

Workaholic (Richard x Pump's Mother)

Healthcare (Richard x Mort)

EyesOnThePrize (Richard x Eyes)

Fieryfaith (Gregor x Ignacio)

OldBible (Gregor x Grandpa Wonder)

HolyCat (Gregor x Michelle)

Holydemon (Gregor x Moloch)

Hellfire (Ignacio x Moloch)

Capshot (Captain x Shotgun)

Comedic Law (Captain x Garcia)

BurningGaze (Moloch x Eyes)

A few...

Edit: Oh, and I forgot to mention, there will be TWO polls every day so this is going to last a while.

#Spooky month ship tournament #spooky month #spooky month ship

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pinkspiderastrology · 2 months ago

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The Correct Birth Chart of Malcolm X: Scorpio Rising

In Honour of His Centenary

Based on my corrections to settings and calculations using online planetariums and my own star charts, which synchronise the constellations with the Nakshatras (28) and the Gregorian calendar - four years' work.

Part 2/?

Kristen Patterson / KP O'Neil

Jan. 15, 2025 / Uttara Ashadha P3 & P4 in Sagittarius / Social Capitalism & Prolific Writing

Recap from Part 1:

Malcolm's Sun / Gameplay instincts and triggers: Krittika Padas 1 & 2 in Taurus - Key-Holder & Diplomat

the stars of Subaru-The Pleiades-Seven Sisters-Mothers: territories, events and abilities of The Shining, life patterns from the story of Kartikeya / The Murugan and the Chakras;

Malcolm's Ascendant / Core Personality and life-drive: Jyeshtha Pada 3 in Scorpius - Ouranos Secrets in revolution, technology, astrology & stolen children -

the star Paikauhale (The Wanderer/Homeless) with his Ouranos at Lambda Piscium, the Red Room star (Twin Peaks - David Lynch is right) addressing the use of the term Black Lodge;

and edit: I wrote and published this the day before the announcement of David's death/transition - I wondered at his death being on the 16th, in Prolific Writing, when he was clearly the perfect Social Capitalist - and it turns out he transitioned on the 15th, when the energies shift between Social Capitalism to Prolific Writing - not the first time I've paused to be correct about the Pada of our deaths being the reason we die -

I'm moving forward with an eye for signs that Malcolm has been connected to David's work and Spirit Guides for some time - and I'm sending his chart to his children, to Bob Roth at the David Lynch Foundation, and to Tony Nader - hopefully one day these astrology corrections can be added to their/his toolkits;

Malcolm's Descendant / Core Personality as death-drive (thank you, Sabina Spielrein, for discovering it:) Rohini Pada 3 in Taurus - Business Guru

the star Hassaleh in Auriga (The Charioteer;)

Malcolm's Venus / Investments: Krittika Pada 3 in Taurus, conjunct with Betty's birthday, next to his Sun - Professional Muse

the stars of The Hyades again: territories, events and abilities of The Shining, life patterns from the story of Kartikeya / The Murugan and the Chakras;

Betty is his Muse, and he is everyone's... hmmmm... pause for heartbreak, thanksgiving...

With an AA Rodden rating for Malcolm's birth time, his Vertex and Anti-Vertex are seemingly fixed to the dates of Jul. 21-27 and Jan. 22-28: Padas 2 & 3 of Pushya in Cancer, and Padas 2 & 3 of Abhijit in Capricornus -

Praesepe/The Beehive/Home of Big Brother and The All-Seeing Eye,

and Okul/Occulus/The Eye of the Goat -

eyes on eyes -

(same Ascendant/Descendant as mine, and therefore same Vertex/Anti-Vertex - my experiences mixed with my research landed me at the decision about Lodge territory in the Beehive - but the Beehive originates with the Supreme God-Mother, Ala, and the Sibyls - is it truly Her territory, being smeared or overrun? Let's see if I can decide by the end of Malcolm's chart analysis... and given his devotion to Allah... does the name Ala pre-date the word Allah?)

I would, and I will - one day - take more time with these placements -

but speeding right along, I'll explain his Anti-Vertex as being near-fated decisions/actions he pretty much had no choice but to accept and enact, hitting those calendar dates more than once -

(and here's where he helps prove me right about re-inserting the displaced Nakshatra of Abhijit - and at full-size - when I found a gap in the Wheel by synchronising three ways of measuring it, back in 2021:)

I estimate Padas 2 & 3 of Abhijit, Jan. 22-28 (in Capricornus - not Aquarius - according to online planetariums, which is where I get my birth chart data,) to belong to Fated Winners/Heroes and Reverse-Engineers -

and I can detail what Malcolm was reverse-engineering by checking his chart circuits;

each of us have patterns (these circuits) set by our Ascendants, and they can be found in list-form and geometrically by lining up the 112 Padas (same if you stick with 108 Padas) so your Ascendant tops one column, next to Pada 1 of Ashwini in the other column - geometrically, by drawing lines across your chart wheel, starting with your Ascendant and Ashwini Pada 1 - I'll make diagrams of Malcolm's circuits and include them here:

(watch this space for images)

so - Malcolm's near-fated decisions and actions are as a Fated Winner/Hero - free will/wheel, at all? His sister Ella, in interview, stated they watched over his birth keenly, the seventh child, as a family rooted in ancestral understandings about the seventh child being born to do great things -

while his Vertex is interdependent with his Anti-Vertex: chicken-and-egg scenarios, as his decisions are relative to the near-fated decisions and actions of The Hive - namely the Caregiver-Medics and Collaborators in and around it...

people and Spirit Guides can be associated with this placement by calendar dates...

I guess I should check the reverse-engineering sooner than later...

...right - same circuits as mine, so only a few minutes to check:

Malcolm was/is reverse-engineering as a Jupiter Leader (my estimation of Pada 1 of Uttara Phalguni in Leo,) and an Interviewer (my estimation of Pada 1 of Mrigashira in Taurus;) with Jupiter Leadership generally amounting to our Wheel-Turning influence on the world - Jupiter being your primary function and House Lord (Creator of Houses, actually - as proven by a school/tradition of Chinese astrology;)

Malcolm's Jupiter, Wheel-Turning influence - if you're ready for it - in Pada 3 of Uttara Ashadha, in Sagittarius (here-and-now, as I type,) aligned with the modestly-named h1 & h2 Sagittarii, and Iota Sagittarii -

in what I call Social Capitalism - unfailingly sustainable (competant against militant threats,) profitable community economics -

his primary function, in all his houses - astrologically and geographically -

his concepts, Gurus, significant male relationships -

"You can't have capitalism without racism."

"Show me a capitalist, and I'll show you a bloodsucker."

(I'll come back with original sources for those quotes from him, but there he is - reverse-engineering capitalism as a social capitalist in interviews...)

think I'll mic-drop for now, and go make a cup of tea...

Oh - but I should include Malcolm's Juno with his Jupiter -

Juno pulling back the clouds to see what Jupiter is doing -

I connect Juno to dissociation, as illustrated by my delayed remembrance to include her in this post -

and in child-friendly terms, I connect Juno to the Fool's Journey in our charts - the Dorothy-and-Toto journey (and I'll choose The Wiz, much as I love Judy - and knowing how much David Lynch loves her...)

Malcolm's Juno being in Ophiuchus, lining up with the Moth Cluster and Baby Scorpion Cluster/Caldwell 76 in Jyeshtha Pada 4 of Neptune Secrets (Soul Contracts, murders, Muses - murdered Muses) - conjunct with his Core Personality/Ascendant,

with his Neptune below Leo's jaw - in Pada 4 of Ashlesha, conjunct with his Sevastopol asteroid - as in, Crimea/strategic position, heavily-fought-over - Pada 4, in my estimation, belonging to Anarchists, ruled by the star Algenubi/Ras Elased - (Southern Star of) the Head of the Lion -

Dorothy, Toto and the Lion... Ted Ross... will look for connections...

but I'd say we're right over the target: can't have sustainability without profit - just need the profit to be ethical -

Malcolm's dissociative-thinking, awakening-to-self...

does he have a strong placement influencing his Neptune Leadership in Pada 4 of Uttara Phalguni... I'll come back and say whether or not, when I exhaust my search...

but with Juno close-to-the-bone, so-to-speak, and Malcolm's Descendant as Business Guru - ahhhhh! That's his Descendant talking, when he calls down capitalism -

his Descendant dogged/Toto'd by his Juno, and how many Anarchical Muse/Neptune Spirit Guides reaching out to him through his Neptune -

with himself being poured out through his Venus investments as a Professional Muse to everyone in the world - no balance of profit for him in that role -

unless...

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