#happy sinday fuckers

[helicrazy]

(( READ TAGS FIRST. Heed the warnings. ))

Sex clubs are perfect for a mech like Vortex to find all sorts of freaks, ranging from size to how badly they want to be punished when roped up in uncomfortable positions. It is also the best place to search for possible victims that never see it coming.

And how could they? Vortex is a gorgeous mech with a styling helicopter alt mode and colors that pop to the optics. He's always relaxing in his usual booth, his legs propped up on the table while leaning back into the cushioned sofa and reading a datapad. To some, he appears as the play-hard-to-get type while others easily have the confidence to approach him.

Like this grounder frame who's only started coming here, Vortex knows he's caught their attention many visits ago yet they have kept their distance until now.

The banter between them starts small before Vortex starts asking the important questions. What the mech is looking for and how serious he is about wanting it, because most of the time, people don't know what they are getting their selves into. Especially with a partner like Vortex.

Except this stranger is ready for anything, so Vortex offered him to take a seat and have a drink before they get started.

Things go south very quickly from there from the drink being spiked to the grounder waking up in a dark room that's not one of the private areas in the club. Their spark races as they glance around the room finding a torture chair in the center and all sorts of devices displayed on the table, shelves and walls. Panic creeps in when they realize they are missing their limbs, cut off from the elbow and knee joints. Their sliced cables and wires are the only thing keeping them up tied in knots around the chains and coaxing it in blood. Underneath them are saw blades and a pile of energon from their bleeding frame.

"Oh goodie, you're awake. I thought I might have been a bit harsh on the drugs."

The mech turns to see Vortex entering the room, almost like he somehow phased through the wall, and the panic turns into fury very quickly. "What the slag did you do?!"

"You said you wanted a good time right? You also said you were very open to anything."

"To interfacing! Not this!"

Vortex vents out a small laugh. "You have to be more thorough when you speak next time then, and don't worry we still have the interfacing bit to tackle."

There is a look of dread on the grounder's face. "What. Not-... not like this."

"Why not? We can make a game out of it." Vortex states as he steps over to the table and picks up a large spike toy before heading toward the chained up mech. "If you survive, I'll put you back together and you'll be free."

The mech's spark is racing as they stare at the copter. "You can't be serious. You'll kill me either way."

No escaping when I start.

"Hey, I'm a mech of my word, I'll even pinky promise." The Combaticon claims while holding up a fisted servo and sticking the pinky digit out to the other.

Once I'm in, I own your heart.

"Oh wait, you have no servos. Silly me." He chuckles and grabs the mech's chassis while placing the toy between their legs.

There's no way you'll ring the alarm.

"Guess you'll have to see for yourself."

So hold on until it's over.

[kegarre-archive]

//the face of a woman who has made men 4x her calendar age choke on her 10in strap

[abyssalthreads]

Casually pulls out some Kimchi and Zesty Italian dressing. He grins before opening the bottle and dumps the dressing on the Kimchi, and proceeds to eat it with chopsticks.

"Happy Sinday." He says before he began to chow down on this food crime.

[zealctry]

NSFT / Sinday Headcanons. // @vonerde asked for modern verse :

how do they feel about toys? do they have any? what’s their favorite? do they use them with partners?

oh. oooh. while Hidan doesn’t actually own any himself (get him some for his birthday or something, shit’s expensive ; i swear, Hidan being relatively poor in his modern verse is a blessing. otherwise he'd go: oh hey, here is my two-level weapons collection, here's my two-level sex dungeon. .. . . . ANYWAY. he's lucky in that his partners are generally kinky fuckers, so they are likely to have some. or, in some cases, actually be some. that's right, he's a monsterfucker and proud of it-- ), he thinks they’re fucking grand. he’d be happy to use them and have them used on him. spicy! he loves trying new things, and he’s anything but shy about it. some of it because it’s fun, some of it because it’s honestly funny.

do they prefer oral or penetrative sex more?

it depends. oral sex is fun, quick, anywhere-goes sort of sex, which he sometimes does just for the hell of it and doesn’t expect reciprocation for (on either end). penetrative sex is usually more longwinded and serious, especially if he’s on the receiving end (especially if it’s been a while for him, since it requires some amount of patience and prep). he loves both. his preferences vary depending on the partner, actually.

what’s their favorite position?

this one… hmm, he's pan, and he has preferences depending on who he's with, so it gets nitpicky. in general, regardless of whom he’s with or who’s doing what ––– doggy style, especially if it’s standing, and prison guard.  cowgirl/boy (though he prefers to be the one doing the riding~  ladies, please, peg him). lotus if he really, really likes his partner and has some emotional connection to them (and they have the time). and pyramid if he’s with a  guy and looking to be fucked silly. bonus: add breathplay to any of these

[once-was-muses]

[ Hello fish fuckers. Fun fact: D.oug J.ones is Bro'Dee's bodyclaim as well. Except for, y'know, ]

[ Happy (early) Sinday ]

[askalfiesolomons]

The Brewery is Open

Happy Sinday lovely fuckers. I will attend to each and everyone of you, yeah.

But today Tommy is in my bed and he has prio.

[jest-a-puppeteer]

   It’s fun when they run.      It’s more fun when they run and really shouldn’t.         But what more can you really do?- Well, lay down and accept it for one, but honestly, that’s such a boring option.

  Red and black boots followed the trail of crimson that painted the pavement, each step lightly skipped on tip-toes as the Jester carefully navigated the path, making sure not to step in liquid. Oh, this one was really trying to get away but, sadly, all good things have to come to an end, and the man would have to expire sooner than intended. He was just so loud.

  Exhaling a sigh against the mask he wore, another shriek of terror echoed through the streets. Noisy thing. Time to go, then. Shaco halted in place and tipped his head slightly before sinking backward, letting the darkness of the night swallow him up completely.   The bloodied man stumbled away as quick as he could, agony shooting up and down the entirely of his leg as the opposite did all the work. Both of his hands were doing well to grasp onto whatever dent or ledge in the building’s outer-wall he could, the only way he could realistically travel to get away from this... This clown. He drew in a ragged, tired breath and readied another scream- Someone will hear him soon, right?   A heartbeat later a lithe, gloved hand pressed against the taller man’s torso with such a light touch which made him hesitate a moment, a brief glimmer of hope that someone was going to help him, but a shiver of cold took a hold of his body when he looked up to see that horrible, ceramic grinning face looking at him again.   Shaco tilted his head, one way and then the other, very light jingles from the bells upon his hat sounding in the air as he walked his fingers up the man’s chest. Shadows curled around the digits and gathered into his palm, solidifying into a slender knife which he dragged up the man’s bare neck. Purple eyes maintained contact with the ones staring back in the darkness as the blade parted skin as though it wasn’t even there.   The mental sunk deeper as it was brought up more, and more until it reached that soft part between his neck and chin. The fool leaned closer, savoring every moment that he could; Every twitch of pain, the unwilling jerk of the muscles in his body as he bled out. He didn’t care that the blood had soaked his sleeve, on the contrary the warmth was soothing, the smell so familiar.

  Finally, the jester brought his head closer once more. Had he not of been wearing a mask, their breaths would’ve entwined. The blade sunk deep, piercing through the flesh at the bottom of his mouth, slicing clean through the tongue until the tip met the hard palate of bone at the roof. Blood spluttered from the man’s mouth, teeth painted crimson as he gurgled and choked, sending droplets against the perpetually grinning mask.

  He held onto the blade as long as he needed to, though he could see that the light hadn’t completely flickered out in the poor man’s eyes. Well, he couldn’t just stand around here all night, he was a busy clown, and he definitely needed a change of clothes now- Typical.   Shaco dropped the blade, and with it he let the victim fall onto the ground with the knife still embedded beneath his chin. He looked at his hand then, a pool of red swiftly forming beneath him as he inspected the blood coating his glove and sleeve. 

  With a disapproving click of his tongue, the jester leaned down to wipe his hand on the back of the man’s shirt before adjusting his own clothing, straightening it as though it wasn’t soaked through with blood. He spun on his heel once with a small jingle that followed his movement, and promptly after the clown was gone again, no where to be seen.

[replicantdeviancy]

sub or dom?

“I’m whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant.”

“This question is irrelevant. I have no preference one way or the other.”

[navybrat817]

Make Yourself at Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You find a familiar face in your home after a long day. Word Count: Over 2.1k Warnings: Pining, fluff, feels, swearing, sass, a bit of humor, mentions of blood and trauma, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: Hey, lovelies! I began this in June of 2021. That's right! I'm slowly, but surely, trying to make my way through WIPs and this felt good to complete. Shockingly no smut for Sinday. Beta read by the beautiful @buckyownsmylife, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by the wonderful @sweeterthanthis. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

To say that you had a rough work day was an understatement. Between spilling your drink all over yourself on your way to your desk, being unprepared for a last minute meeting (which your boss called you out on), and your system crashing right before your report was finished, you were done. All you wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a stiff drink. Anything to forget that you had to stay at that place to get a paycheck. 

I can't even fuck out my frustrations since I'm painfully single. I really need to buy a new toy.

The moment you walked in your front door, you knew it wouldn't be a relaxing evening. The glow from the living room gave it away. Sighing, you tossed your bag and keys down before heading into the room. You weren’t shocked when you saw Bucky Barnes slumped against your couch, but you weren't exactly happy either.

The dark tactical gear clashed with the soft throw pillows surrounding the soldier. He often looked larger than his 6'3" height since he took up space, but he somehow looked like he belonged there. He cut his long locks some time ago, his short, dark hair urging you to run your fingers through it. Maybe you could pull it if he gave you the chance.  

I would have a crush on a man who may have a death wish.

“Hey, doll,” he smirked when he acknowledged your presence. “We really need to stop meeting like this.”

“Well, maybe we would if you would STOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!”

He seemed to wince more at your tone than the wound on his right arm. “What can I say? You and your place are comforting.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart raced faster at his sincerity. “You’re bleeding on my couch!”

“Sorry. I’ll get it cleaned or replaced. I promise,” he swore as he sat up more, smiling a bit when you rushed over to help.

“That’s what you said about my rug,” you muttered as you sat down. How does someone bleeding smell so good? He already had your first aid kit, water and towels on the coffee table. He knew by heart where you kept everything. "What happened this time? Who did this to you?"

Bucky’s smile widened as he shifted to give you more room. “Why? Will you take him out for me?”

“I just might,” you said. Truthfully, your heart stopped whenever you saw him in a state like this, even though he bounced back quickly. And you wanted to hurt anyone who hurt him. 

I’ve got it bad. Why am I like this?

"I’m flattered, but I handled him and you don’t need to worry about it. Fucker had a knife up his sleeve though. Not as nice as mine," he told you as you opened the kit, taking a moment to figure out what you needed to clean the wound with.

"Better not let Steve catch you swearing. He might chastise you."

"Don't let that punk fool you. He swears like a sailor and he's still kicking himself for saying 'language' to his team. Wish I could've been there to hear that."

The fondness made you smile a little. You were glad Bucky had a good friend by his side. You were also flattered that Bucky trusted you enough to tell you stories. "Super soldier reflexes certainly don't stop you from getting hurt, do they?"

"Nope. Still human."

"You know, sometimes I think you fake these just so you have an excuse to visit me."

"You caught me," he half joked, something soft in his eyes as he looked at you. 

"Bucky, how many times have you broken in?"

"More than enough," he acknowledged.

The first time Bucky broke into your place, to hide out from someone whose name you can’t even remember, you almost took a swing at him because you thought he was a burglar. You, luckily, recognized the former Winter Soldier and he promised he wouldn’t hide out long. But after the day you had today, you were reconsidering grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at his head. If only for making you worry. 

I doubt it would knock any sense into him. And I shouldn't be mad at him. He didn't do anything. Except break in. Again. 

Every few weeks, Bucky let himself into your place when he got injured or needed a quiet place to relax. Some nights he talked to you and others he hardly said a word. He even left you "thank you" gifts following his visits. Admittedly, you looked forward to them, even on your bad days, because you simply got to see him. You just wish you knew why he kept coming back. 

"Seriously. Why don't you see a doctor or a nurse?" you questioned, carefully dabbing at the cut. "They're much more qualified than I am."

"I told you, doll. You and your place are more comforting."

"Stop calling me doll!"

"Sure thing, sassy," he smirked, making you groan when your cheeks felt hot. 

"Grumpy," you grumbled back at him. 

If I use one of his own knives on him, can I consider it self defense? 

"I'm not grumpy. I'm an old man," he argued.

"You don't look like an old man. My new boyfriend might be jealous."

Your eyes flickered up just in time to catch the tiny tick in his jaw. "You're seeing someone?"

"No," you scoffed, not bothering to continue with the joke. "Still single, like every other time you've shown up."

Bucky slowly exhaled, relaxing against the cushions again. "That's good," he whispered.

Your teeth ground together as you cleaned him up. Maybe it was good to him, but it wasn't to you. It was lonely.

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Fine," you lied, avoiding his gaze.

He gently caught your wrist before you pulled away, the metal cool against your skin. "I really am sorry about the couch. I know the last thing you want is to deal with me."

Guilt crept in when you saw hurt in his icy blue eyes. “It isn’t ‘dealing’ with you, Bucky, and I’m sorry for snapping. Work was shit, but that's no excuse to take it out on you."

“I'm sorry you had a bad day," he swore and you wished the ground would swallow you up. The man was hurt and he felt bad for you. "And I don’t blame you. I did kind of invade your space again.”

“It's okay," you said, glancing at your wrist. He was still holding it, his grip softer than you expected. "Why do you come here? Is it really comforting?”

He sighed as he rested his head against the cushion. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere since it’s my place,” you teased, making him chuckle. You did pride yourself on making the often stoic man laugh. “So, try me.”

"You're not afraid of me," he stated, his thumb moving in slow circles over your pulse. You weren't sure if he was aware that he was doing it, but it had your heart racing faster. "Most people are."

"I have no reason to be afraid of you. As many times as you've managed to break in, you would've hurt me long ago if you wanted to," you said, shaking your head. "And I don't think you'll do that."

"I've hurt and killed people," he swallowed as he looked at the ceiling.

You weren't sure if he wanted you to listen or respond, but you chose the latter. "I know," you acknowledged, shifting so you could face him as he lifted his head. "But from what I've heard and what you've told me, it wasn't you, Bucky. You didn't have a choice."

"It doesn't make what happened go away," he said, blinking rapidly at the wetness that filled his eyes.

Seeing him on the verge of tears made you blink a few times, too. You wanted to hug him, but refused to initiate that kind of touch without his permission. "No, it doesn't, but you aren't who they tried to force you to be."

"Then who am I?" his voice cracked as his grip tightened on your wrist.

It doesn't hurt. You won't hurt me.

"You're Bucky," you stated, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You're a hero and good man. You're also a pain in my ass who keeps ruining my furniture."

Bucky chuckled, his nose scrunching like you told a hilarious joke. The sound soothed the cracks his tears formed in your heart. The pain hadn't left his eyes, but it began to fade. "That easy to answer, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. I think it's just easier for us to see the best in others because we tend to see the worst in ourselves."

"Is that what you do? See the worst in yourself?"

"I try not to," you admitted, but you were human. It was easy to hyperfocus on your flaws. 

"I don't want you doing that," he said, frowning as his hand moved from your wrist to your fingers. 

The delicate touch had your thighs pressing together. You hoped his super soldier senses didn't detect arousal. Though you pretty much were turned on at some point during each visit, this was a heart-to-heart moment and no time to want him.

"You don't have to worry about me."

"But I do. I worry about you when I'm not around," he said, sitting up a bit as you moved closer. "It's one of the reasons I don't use your front door. I don't want your neighbors to recognize me and be afraid."

"Yes, because breaking and entering is safer. Great logic, grumpy."

Bucky laughed, his eyes warm again. "Can I admit something and you can throw me out, sassy?"

"I won't throw you out, but I'm listening."

He cleared his throat, toying with your fingers. "I don't have nightmares after I see you."

His words hit you in your chest. You didn't know what to say. "You don't?"

"No," a heartbeat passed before he spoke again. "Most nights I wake up in a cold sweat, remembering the screams and fear. I remember everything."

"Bucky, I'm so sorry," you spoke, wishing you could take that pain away.

"The days I see you before I go home, I think of your smile, your scent, even your sass. A woman who showed me kindness time and time again, even on tiring and long days," he smiled sadly as you hung on his every word. "I eventually fall asleep and wake up peacefully. Nothing else I do works."

It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you. "I had no idea."

"It's why I'm glad you don't have a boyfriend because I know he wouldn't tolerate me being around. Among other reasons."

You almost threw yourself at him, but had to maintain your dignity as you carefully leaned in. You weren't sure if the temperature rose in the room, but the sudden tension had you breathing faster. "What other reasons?"

"I think you know," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips. 

Oh, shit. 

"For the record, no boyfriend of mine will tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

"I don't doubt that," he said, placing a hand on your cheek. 

"He needs to clean up his messes," you teased. "Like bleeding on my couch."

"That's a given," he smiled, his massive thighs opening so you could move in closer.

"I would also like it if he took me out on a date once in awhile," you added. 

"I can take you out," he offered as you pressed closer, your heart pounding faster. You were practically in his lap and he wasn't stopping you. "Wherever you want to go."

"Yeah? You want to be my boyfriend?" you asked, smiling at how silly the question sounded. "You've already bought me gifts."

"If you'll let me," he answered, his lips a fraction away from yours. "I'll even use the front door."

"I'd like that," you sighed, closing your eyes as his nose touched yours.

Finally. He's finally going to kiss me.

"Buck!" Steve said from the window, climbing inside as the two of you broke apart. Bucky caught you before you fell backwards. The former captain's boots didn't make a sound as they touched the floor, brushing his gloved hands on his thighs. "Why didn't you answer your- Oh. I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?!

Bucky ran his hand over his face with a sigh and handed you one of the pillows. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" 

 "Duck."

*****

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[babbushka]

Thank you doing a sinday!!!!

From the physical affection prompts, kissing someone’s face all over, lifting them out of affection, and play wrestling. Mayb I please these with Flip? Maybe after not seeing each other for a few days because he was stuck on a case? Anything really, I just picture an excited, playful, sexy reunion, but anything you picture will be perfect!

(1.1k, no warnings, just fluff!)

Flip’s on his third cigarette, watching the board. His arms are crossed, his cowboy boot is tap-tap-tapping on the waxed floors of Colorado Springs Airport. Flanked by Ron and Jimmy, they scan the board to figure out where the hell they’re going to have to race to meet you. Huffing and puffing smoke, they wait and watch the board, until Ron’s hand smacks down on Flip’s shoulder and he points.

“Flight 4281 has landed in gate G!” He says like they’ve just won the lotto, and like a racehorse hearing the gunshot, Flip begins at once to move.

Jimmy has to grab him by the back of his Sherpa jacket with an exasperated chuckle and a cigarette puff of his own, and Flip gives him a dirty glare, wondering why the hell he stopped him.

“Calm down, she still has to get through baggage claim.” Jimmy explains, much to Flip’s dissatisfaction.

“But I miss her.” Flip grumbles out the understatement of the century with a frown, and it’s in that moment that both Ron and Jimmy realize they forgot just how annoying he could be when you weren’t around.

This was one of the rare occurrences where you left town on business, and Flip didn’t accompany you. And the only reason he didn’t accompany you was because he was stuck dealing with shit of his own; a case that under no circumstances could handle three days of absence. Just about every other time, he went with you, because if he didn’t…well, he was like this.

Irritable, impatient, snappish, sarcastic – but turned up to eleven.

“She left Friday, it’s Monday now.” Ron tries gently to remind Flip that it wasn’t in fact the end of the world, or that a year had passed, trying to figure out for himself how Flip dealt with his two tours in Vietnam without you (he can only grasp how miserable that must have been, by comparison of these three days of hell).

“So? A man can’t miss his wife?” Flip smokes and smokes anxiously, deciding that he doesn’t care if you have to go through baggage claim yet, he can meet you at baggage claim. So off he goes, with Ron and Jimmy hot on his heels as he continues under his breath, “Bad enough I have to sit in the station with you fuckers all day and miss her, but at least when I come home she’s there.”

“Aw what, we ain’t scintillating enough company for you?” Jimmy asks half-way jokingly, knowing what the answer is going to be so confidently that he could have bet money on it:

“No, not compared to her you aren’t.”

Flip doesn’t even bother to turn and look over his shoulder to deliver the remark, too antsy, wanting you back in his arms again. They’ve descended to the baggage claim area, and he scans the carousels for your flight number, holding lungfulls of nicotine to try and calm him.

Flip did not fly well. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t trust it – not after the shit he saw in the war. He prefers to be firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much, and not even a first class ticket like the one he set you up on was comforting enough for him. Flip wouldn’t be calm until he knew for a fact that you had both firmly on the ground too.

It’s Ron’s eagle eye once again that spots you, and much like with the board, he smacks Flip and points, letting out an excited, “I see her!”

Flip meets your eyes from across the crowded baggage claim, his height allowing him to look over a sea of businessmen and vacationers, and you throw up a hand that he meets with a big cheesing smile. This time when Flip bolts, neither Ron nor Jimmy hold him back, letting the two of you reunite after a weekend away.

“You know, we shoulda had a sign for her or something, like they do in the movies.” Jimmy says to Ron, who can’t help but think that there’s no point when Flip’s as tall as he is.

“(Y/N)!” Flip cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, running running running to you, pinching out his cigarette and throwing it out on his way, not once breaking speed.

“Philly!” You call his name right back, bright laughter and joy lighting up your whole face, as you run in your pretty heels straight to him.

Not one to abandon your nice matching set of luggage that Flip had given you for your birthday a few years ago, you wait until you’re only a few feet apart to drop it from your hands and be scooped up by your husband. Flip picks you up and twirls you around, smothering your face with kisses that have you laughing.

“There’s my girl, goddamn aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Flip hasn’t put you down yet, and he’s not so sure he ever will again, not with the way your arms are looped around his neck and you’ve managed to capture his lips with your own.

If anyone were paying any attention, they might’ve thought it had been months and months since you’ve last seen one another. It certainly felt like it, Flip thinks with a big sigh of relief, a gentle moan of satisfaction swallowed down by a chuckle of your own.

Eyes closed, the both of you indulge in a passionate kiss for a moment or two, and for a second, the airport slips away. Gone are the intercom announcements and overlapping conversations around you, the sweet hum of your happiness against Flip’s tongue replaced in its stead.

You’re the first one to pull away, simply for the fact that you missed him too, and now that you’re together again, you don’t want to waste any time talking to him.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was about to go searching for a payphone but – ”

“Of course I’m here, you didn’t think I’d let you take a cab home, did you?” He kisses your cheek before picking up your luggage, smacking at your hand playfully when you try to beat him to it.

“I just thought you’d be at work still.” You explain, beaming up at him with lovesick eyes, nearly missing Ron and Jimmy altogether. It’s then that you notice them, and you greet them with kisses on the cheek, and it dawns on you that, “Oh my god, you’re still on the clock, aren’t you?”

“Bridges thinks we’re gathering intel.” Ron winks at you, making you laugh and shake your head, hoping that they don’t get in trouble for playing hooky.

“You’re all terrible, but thank you for the warm welcome home.” You can’t help but smile, before turning to your husband and winding an arm around his thick waist, winking at him with a little whisper, “Now take me back to the house and show me how much you missed me.”

[laketaj24]

Proper Timing

Authors Note: it’s a little bad ass freaky lol. Got carried away. Loved this request. Love John! My taglist/Requests are open! I hope you enjoy!! Happy Sinday.

Summary: it’s Tommy’s Wedding and John has one thing on his mind.

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader

Requested:Johnny anon from before; girl you know that’s exactly what I had in mind, some John impreg/breeding smut. I’m going to try and be as concise as I possibly can without getting too carried away too much. Basically John wants a baby from y/n but she feels like it might not be the right timing. She’s riding him and she thinks she’s in control till John brings up having a baby again and he grips her hips harder not letting get off, and flips her pinning her to the bed as speaks the dirtiest filth into her ear he starts off gentle teasing and taunting her to give in until she begs him to fuck her and he gets really rough and posissive telling her how she’s all his and he’s gonna make it visible by having her carry his child. When I said I love John that might have been an understatement 😏

“No fucking fighting!” Tommy yelled at the men in the dining room before striking the server and moving to the festivities.

“No bloody fun is what he wants from us.” John rolled his eyes and draped his hand over your shoulder. “Weddings don’t make you want more?” He whispered.

“More what?” You smiled at him entangling your fingers in his.

“From us, a wedding a few children.”

“You have four John.” You cackled.

“And?”

“You expect me to have more?”

“The very thought of getting your pregnant makes my cock hard.” He gently pressed against your backside and nestled his chin in your neck.

“Anything gets your cock hard John.” You kissed him sweetly before he twirled you around and started a slow dance with you.

“You’re right.” He breathed. “That’s why you’re mine...”

you danced with him until the madness descended. Ada and yourself took to the kitchen with the children. They’d ate already but like their father it was nothing to eat more food.

“John and Arthur are literally fighting the Calvary out there.” She watched from the kitchen window as she nursed her tea.

“John must be in heaven.” You watched him, he was shirtless and fighting the older gentleman.

“You’ve made him a better person. John has always been sweet but it shows more now that he has you. His heart is consumed.”

“That’s flattering.”

“It’s true.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome. Here he comes, he spotted you.” She laughed and gently touched her nieces hand to guide her to an exit.

John appeared at the door. His hand slightly bloody but carried a wicked smirk on his face. “What’re you doing down here?”

“Got hungry.”

“Hm.” He leaned in the door jamb. “I wanna see you up stairs naked in like five minutes. I can work you up another appetite.”

“You can?”

John had no patience, as soon as the door hit the wooden wall he was all over you. His hands climbing the mounds of your ass to the nape of your back, groping and pressing into your skin.

“You’re so bloody beautiful, you know that right?”

He was addicted to you and you him. One night away from him and you were bent over his office desk the next day screaming his name for the whole Shelby OBE to hear.

“You think?” You grinned and stepped back from him. You carefully disposed of the dress. It polled at your feet and you stepped out wearing only the lace black slip and the silk garters.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.” You laughed.

John swing the door closed and slid the hat from his head. He tossed it and his wool coat to the cream sofa and stepped towards you. “Come here,” John moved to the sofa. “Now.”

You stepped to him with your finger between your teeth. “What is it?”

“Come fuck me.”

The defined order stirred you and you didn’t disobey. You straddled him with your arms draped over his neck. It started slow. His soft kisses to your neck peppered down to your slip. He ripped the lace slip from your body and your breast bounced until he caught one. His teeth grazed the hard nipple and you sucked the air through your teeth.

No words were exchanged as he started in on you. He caressed your back and ran a line with his finger to the nape of your back. “Tease.” You murmured.”

You aimed to make him whine as you were for him. You quickly unzipped his pants and gripped the hilt of his vein cock. He hissed and threw his head back as you stroked him. You rubbed your thumb over his tip, sweeping the Previn down his shaft before you lifted your body from his and lowered back down on him.

The amazing thing about John was he was slightly curved. The tip of him nudged at your g-spot without even trying. You exhaled and your eyes were hooked on his gray eyes. He was elated, his mouth dry and words caught in his throat as you started to fuck him.

Your hips wind on him and the couch moves as you took total control. To watch him be entranced in you riled something up in your spirit. Your pussy clenched around him with each thrust and this is where you wanted him. He knew he really ruled things between the both of you. Your soft cries of pleasure filled the room accompanied by the melodic groans of John and then he stopped you.

His hands clamped down on the plush cushion of your hips. “I love when you fuck me,” he paused. “You know?”

“I know John.” You beamed as you tightened around him.

“I love when you’re around me. I love waking up to you and fucking you back to sleep. I love the way you fit right in to my family. I love you.”

“I love you.” You whispered.

“I want a family with you.” He answered. “I wanna touch your round belly and let those other fuckers know your mine.”

“I am yours...”

“Then have my baby...”

“Jo-,” he lifted you from his cock and then slammed you back down. “-hn.”

“You hear me? Don’t you wanna be full of me?” He growled as he started to fuck up into you. His skin smacked against yours. “Don’t you wanna have my baby?”

The next few motions through you off as he flipped you onto your back and sink into you slow. Your hitched breath was followed by soft moans of his name.

“I know you want it. Look at your pussy begging for it huh?” Your pussy clenched around him again and as if it was possible became wetter.

He pinned your hands above your head and slammed back into you again and again. “I know it’s what you want.” He smiled against your neck. “I know it’s what you need. Become a Shelby woman...”

at those words your body convulsed against his. Your back bowed from the couch and he went deeper. Your legs shook and toes curls as all the air seemed to be sucked from the room and your body exploded on pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.”

You could not think, you didn’t want to. He fucked you harder and faster until you felt his warm cum fill you. But he didn’t stop his assault burying himself inside you until he was spent.

“Y/N.” He huffed and wiped his face.

“John.”

“Spread your legs... I wanna see me come outta you.” He grinned.

Peaky Taglist: @taytayize123 @honestsycrets @supernaturalvikingwhore @dvndelionn @queenmissfit @cltex84 @didiiscool11 @oddsnendsfanfics @therealcalicali @sparklemichele @allaboardthereadingrailroad @vikingsbifrost @rhys108 @savismith @tephi101 @khiraeth @queenbeeta @danceyreagan @geekandbooknerd @feyrearcheron44 @readsalot73 @tiredxsurvivor @tiff-valerie @brujademente @igotshinee

[azhorratha]

     @zankokukami​: 🍵+ stalling on fluff, 🍵+ popularity in rpc, 🍵+ fake people, 🍵villains, 🍵real life representations in rp,  🍵sinday

Send 🍵 for the mun’s salt! || Meme

     Demon’s looking to break my blog tonight. I’ll slap this huge post under a read more so the dash doesn’t have to see a mile long post.

🍵+ stalling on fluff

     Like anyone else, I like fluff but in small doses. I can’t take tooth rotting fluff for long and it’s fine if people like that but for me it’s a hard pass after a bit. 

But, the thing that gets me, is when I’m plotting and writing with someone, and they start trying to keep the fluff scene going no matter how hard I try to write away from it, it’s fucking irritating. I don’t want to read a 200 reply chain of an RP and not see these fuckers move even once away from the scene they’re in unless there’s a good fucking reason for it. Is it set in a hallway or hotel room that operates similarly to P.T.? Then fine, that’s great, use that and go ham with it but not with me. 

Stagnating a thread on fluff with me is the fastest way for me to drop the thread. There has to be some kind of movement or I just can’t do it. I don’t know how people handle these types of threads and end up loving them. It baffles me but I’m glad they’re happy, I just ask that it not happen to me. 

🍵+ popularity in rpc

     Honestly, the only thing I’m salty about with this is that people work too hard to achieve it. To the point that they’re honestly starting to use other people to get all these numbers. This is one of the things I agree with on the majority where quantity doesn’t equal quality. 

The numbers don’t matter for anything.

What’s going to get you popular is consistency in your writing and characterization. Even then, I don’t think it’s something to work toward. Do you really want 2k+ sets of eyes on you to criticize everything that you’re putting out? Do you want to end up with 500 threads that only get past one or two notes because you’re struggling to keep up with replies?

At some point you have to sit down and wonder why you’re really doing this. Is it because you enjoy the character? That’s great then! Because when people see your passion and love for your character, they’ll like that far better than how many replies you can throw out. Not only is that going to burn you out but it’s a good way to lose muse quickly. 

All in all, sometimes it’s better to have fewer people following you, that way you can concentrate on other things and not feel as pressured. This is supposed to be for fun, a hobby, but it’s not being treated like that most of the time. You’re expected to be online 24/7 and answer threads as soon as the reply is posted and it can’t be like that all the time. 

On top of that, sometimes people give up parts of themselves just to fit in with the popular crowd and that’s just sad. Why try to cut out a piece of yourself to fit in where you don’t belong? Look for those around you who you get along with, who you know are there for you if you need them. True friends. Not these Regina George assholes sitting around and telling you ‘you can’t sit with us’ if you’re friends with certain people. 

And that leads into...

🍵+ fake people

     How in the world do people keep this shit up? How do you have the time and energy to be two-faced?

Sure, go ahead and bitch about someone in private but don’t spread shit needlessly. You have zero reason not to block them and move tf on. This isn’t a high school. You’re allowed to just not talk to someone, that’s fine. 

Honestly though, the fakeness of some people on this website is absolutely unreal. It’s like being in high school all over again. I don’t have time for that shit and I graduated over ten years ago. I get some of you are 18-22 and still have some of that spirit going for it but for the love of god, focus on growing out of it. You’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you do. 

I’m at the point in my life where I don’t give a shit if someone dislikes me but if they do, I want them to at least be honest about it. Don’t like me? Hate my guts? Want to dance on my grave when I’m dead? Do it, I don’t give a fuck. But don’t fucking pretend to like me when you don’t. I don’t play these games. 

The same goes for ass kissing. And yes, I see a lot of that on here too. People sucking up to popular blogs so they can get attention - I consider that to be two-faced and fake too. Like you literally can rarely take people at face value on this website because they hide behind so many masks but at some point, they show who they really are. 

I’m straight up about it and I have been for a long time - I can be a raging asshole. Is that my natural state? No, but I’ll snap back if someone gets aggressive with me. Which is funny because the one who started it wants to pretend to be a victim after I go at them. 

🍵villains

     I’ve said it countless times that villains need to be allowed to be villains. Woobifying them down to be a redeemed uwu boi just so you can get ships is just ridiculous. That’s great if you’re happy about getting the interactions you’re seeking but holy shit some of these people literally make these canon villains 50 OCs in a trench coat. Or a shitty self insert. 

It’s difficult to write a villain and keep to their base personality, I’ll admit that, but shitting all over what makes the character the character they are makes no sense. If you loved the character for how they’re shown in their canon media, then why are you going to change them so much? 

Yeah I get it ‘uwu but Ripley, you did the same thing with Prompto and made him a sex worker!’ 

Not the same. I kept all the canon history and entity, all I did was fill in the gaps and refuse to make him uwu super soff sweatah boi like the majority of the fandom. Easy peasy. 

Look, it’s easy to be canon divergent and stay true to the source material without essentially making an OC out of a canon. All it requires is a bit of thought and creativity. Something that some on here tend to lack, like certain thieves I know.

🍵real life representations in rp

     Okay so I’m taking this to mean people RPing youtubers and shit so uh. Yeah, here’s the thing about that. Some of these people know you’re fucking do it and want you to fucking stop. If you can’t respect their wishes then you deserve to whatever the consequences will be and I have no fucking sympathy for you. 

I mean think of it this way, you wake up one day and you’re having a good fucking time. You log on your favorite social media and there’s a message. Cool, normal shit. But this message has a link to it and they say, in a serious way, you need to see this. You click the link and your blood runs cold - there’s your face and someone is pretending to be you.

Do you see the fucking issue now? These people don’t realize or don’t care that you’re writing them as a character because of their work persona or whatever they put out into the world. All they’re seeing is something that makes them hugely uncomfortable, especially if you’re shipping on that RP blog with other known youtubers and shit. 

It’s creepy. It’s disrespectful. You need to fucking stop. 

Sure, there’s a few who really don’t give a shit and that’s fine if they don’t but don’t expect people to bother with following or interacting with you. It’s different than having an OC or RPing the canon that the actor has performed. That’s fine. But the actual people? Markiplier, Pewdiepie, that fucking disgusting, abusive onion boy? I may not like the last one but it’s still weird and it’s not okay.  Stop doing this shit if they don’t want you to do it. Yes, this goes for the k and j/pop singer blogs of people rping them as themselves. Fucking stop it. You shouldn’t need my salty ass to tell you this if you’ve got a functioning brain.

🍵sinday

     Why have a single Sunday for sin when it happens all the time on the dash anyway lmao. Like look, I used to be one of those people who would smut outright all over the place but I just can’t be bothered anymore. It was 90% of my blog content because that’s all people wanted and I got tired of being used for it. 

For me, smutting got boring as hell. There’s only so many ways you can write someone shoving their dick or fingers in a hole or moaning and writhing all over the place. It gets bland and tasteless after a while. I’ve seen a few people actually manage to make it look like art. I still don’t know how they managed it. Well, yeah I know how they did it because it was mainly purple prose but I’m not into that style so fuck that. 

Also why call it Sinday at all? Why does NSFW have to be considered a sin? Idk, something about that annoys me and I can’t quite put my finger on it but it reeks of Puritanical shit. Reminds me of how bible beaters go around claiming things are a sin all the time. Yeah, I get it, that’s likely not the intention but it gets annoying to see. Especially when people are smutting all over the place anyway. Hated the name of this trend when it first came about and I still do.

I don’t care if someone wants to smut on the dash though, don’t get me wrong on that and don’t twist my words. You want to have your character banged harder than a screen door in a hurricane? Fucking go for it. I just prefer to fade to black. So really, like most things, it falls to preference. 

[addressyourarsenic-blog]

☞ : Does your muse like to bottom? ∀ : Your muse’s favorite position? Á : Is your muse loud in bed? Belial!

sinday meme

☞ : Does your muse like to bottom? 

“Oh, Luci lays on me. Do you mean like that? He is such a cute cat!”

Belial hasn’t fucked in.... a very long time, but when they did, they were always bottom. They don’t mind it. They don’t really have much libido to begin with, but if it makes their partner happy, they’re happy. They’re... a bit too lazy to top, though.

∀ : Your muse’s favorite position?

“Um... spooning?”

Again, Belial is... a lot more of a cuddler than a fucker. Too much energy.

Á : Is your muse loud in bed?

“You mean like... talking in my sleep..? Yeah, I can be pretty loud.”

When they used to fuck, yeah, actually. They were pretty loud! The ‘loud in bed’ now is screaming and crying from nightmares instead.

[neverendingparable]

Happy Sinday

Jonathan lost his virginity at a very early age (teen years dont worry) because he’s just that charming. It was to a girl at his dancing class. 

Stellan has been pegged. And likes it. 

John would much rather adopt than have sex. He’s completely sex repulsed and would only consider it if his wife wanted a biological child. But even then he’d discuss the option of adoption. He also has a very low sex drive and doesn’t feel much personal needs. 

Stanlee has some dirty dirty fantasies about control and submission and all the lovely things that come BDSM - possibly even rivaling Stellan. Another reason he tries hard to supress them out of shame, if he were completely vanilla he’d might be more open with his sexual desires. 

Part of Stanley’s dominant side stems from the want to take care of someone. Which is why he’s a soft dom, he doesnt simply want to control someone as much as he wants to take care and love them. 

None of my muses are outright furries (except Leonard, but he’s more of a monster fucker than a furry per se) and I’m sure that there has to be someone who’s interested in that kink. So far I haven’t found out who, but they can’t hide forever. 

[fromtheshadcws-moved]

“Happy sinday, you fuckers.”

[replicantdeviancy]

what about tying up their partners~?

                                                       GIVE ME A KINK…

“If they’re into it.”

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | Fuck Yes | Oh god you don’t even know