#i feel like it's the one that printed out the best

[chacerider]

メリーーブンマーーース⭐️🌟🎄🌟⭐️

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a yandere werewolf, but not just any werewolf… a bounty hunter. And he has it bad for his you. Cowboy Werewolf!

Yandere Shorts: Like I Love You

Yandere werewolf x fem reader

TW: obsession, delusional themes, abo dynamic, horror, gore (mentioned), death of characters, neglectful husband, betrayal, cheating husband, forced relationship, mention of baby trapping, and behavior that should not be romanticized

Rolfe was currently on a hunt… his target is a sickly preacher’s, one that should be easy enough. Her own husband had paid him quite the pretty penny to off her. Poor little lamb didn’t stand a chance in the wilderness of this world. Not when she had enemies close to her side such as an unfaithful husband and a conniving best friend. He almost felt sorry for his prey

He arrived a day later, his clawed fingers dragged through a lock of her hair as he inhaled her scent. She smelled… delicious. And she was so vulnerable too with her nape out that just begged for his teeth to be driven into…

Rolfe shook his head before he went back into a trance when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. His hand moved up and grazed her temple that felt as if it were ablaze. Poor woman had a fever…

“Darling? Did you finally come to me?” Her voice was a bit delirious with sickness as she kissed his hands. Each kiss made him feel as if he was her beloved. It took everything in him not to loudly whine like a dog. “I missed you so much James. I’m sorry I got sick again.”

Rolfe didn’t say a word before he continued to drag his rough palms through her hair. His heart hammered in his chest and his wolf clawed inside his brain to be released. It seemed this woman before him… was his fated mate.”

Rolfe bent down and buried his nose into the crook of her neck to deeply inhaled. Oh yes… this lassy was his for the takin.

Rolfe began to slowly nurse her back to health rather than off her. An action that made his employer question him. Why on earth would a monster nurse such a nuisance back to health? She was always near death’s door. What use was such a delicate woman in the Wild West?

“When are you going to off (your name)? She’s an easy target.”

“I have honor as a bounty hunter. It must be a hunt.” Rolfe snarled at (your name)’s husband, James, the man who dared to keep her sick due to his lack of care. Had that scrawny man have no pride as a man? The pastor made him sick.

“She’s easy to pick off right now. I’d really like this to be over and done with so I can marry Helen. This is why I hired a monster-“ Rolfe picked James up from the ground by his throat as James gasped for air.

“You are a foolish, greedy man. Are you sure you are truly a man of god?” Rolfe growled, showing his fangs. His dark, muscular form largely towered over James’s lithe frame. “You’re a pathetic man.”

Rolfe soon went back to the care of (your name). The werewolf rubbed his cheeks all over her bed and her body to scent her… he needed to get rid of James’s scent. Rolfe wouldn’t let another have her and hurt her again… he’d spirit her away.

Rolfe wondered how many pups she’d want. If they’d be pretty like her but strong like him… if she’d pepper him with nips and kisses everyday. If she’d beg him for his knot on the next full moon as he properly mated her?

“Darling?” (Your name) reached for his face and Rolfe was quick to put his face in them. A needy whine escaped his throat while he nuzzled her. She was his precious mate…

He snarled when he saw Helen enter. The woman scoffed at him in disgust.

“Ugh. James and I are tired of waiting. You have been here over a month! We want you gone beast. We’ll do it ourselves.”

“So you’re cancelling the contract?” He hummed while he continued to tenderly kiss (your name)‘a palms. “Are you sure? Did you read the fine print?”

“Yes. We don’t need your kind here, true love will prevail-“ Helen didn’t even have time to scream before a giant black wolf hybrid had dug it’s fangs into her throat and ripped it apart like wrapping paper. Blood splattered all over the floor and walls as Helen could only helplessly choke on her own blood.

“Yes… true love will prevail.” He muttered with a a satisfied hum. “My mate will be so happy.”

Meanwhile, James fled into the forest for dear life. That beast had gotten Helen! The two of them couldn’t believe the werewolf would turn on him.

James loudly leapt when he heard something large chase him through the underbrush on all fours. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel his sweat pool down his back in puddles. He needed to get to the church! A demon such as the bounty hunter couldn’t possibly enter there-

But James was knocked to the ground as an agonized shriek fell from his lips. The werewolf began to shake and mangle his leg like the bloodthirsty beast it was…

“Let me go! Let me go! I didn’t do anything-“

Rolfe chuckled darkly. The black werewolf dropped his legs and glanced his beastly head at James. “Oh but she never did anything either… all she did was foolishly love you.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you talking about-“ James’s words were muffled by the paw like hand that covered his mouth. Rolfe shushed him.

“Shhh. You may have failed to pay me and cancel my contract but I had gotten something far more valuable from this transaction. Something most werewolves dream to find in their lifetimes… a fated mate!” Rolfe sighed dreamily. “You may have failed as a protector and provider, but I surely won’t! You have given me something more valuable than any coin could offer… yet you were neglectful to her. Such a shame really.”

“I… I’ll do anything! Just take her and let me live.”

“Ah but I can’t do that. Not when she still calls for you at night. No… you have to be eliminated. Destroyed, really. You can no longer exist on the same planet as her! You are in the way of my love!”

Loud screams of terror ringed out throughout the crisp night air and then it was silence.

Rolfe returned hours later scrubbed clean of blood while he crawled into the bed with his darling mate. He sighed in contentment when she cuddled him. Yes… it may take time to train her properly, but he was sure he could do it. He could make her love him. Just like he loved her.

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

A sequel to this post and poll. Started feeling a little jigsaw-y…. Decided that I wanted to continue this post— what would it be like if their methods didn’t work? If they had to up the ante?

The top two winners of the poll won’t have to find out, because they’re getting you back! The rest? Well…

cw: dubcon/noncon, stalking, unhealthy relationships, somno, daddy kink stuff, intox, violence, baby trapping, and more stuff I don’t really know how to describe lol

❌Gaz is making a spectacle. Formulating the ultimate romantic gesture— a in a public place. He’s used your family and friends to lure you there on their invitation. Can’t you see how all of them want you to take him back? Look at him, on his knee in the middle of the botanical garden, promising to be better for you if you’ll just give him another chance. They’re all waiting on your response. Come on, luv, just give them what they want.

❌Soap is moving onto step 2, and that’s getting you drunk. Not so hard when you and your friends go to an upscale bar. He conveniently runs quite late meeting the 141 there, so to you and your friends, there’s just a handsome group of strangers sending some pretty girls free drinks. And everyone knows the girly drinks have the highest percentages. The rest of the gang will pick off your friends (payment for doing him this favor) and he’ll be ready to swoop in and take you home. Aren’t you lucky he was there? Just let him get you into bed. Ach, he really shouldn’t leave you alone in this state… best stay the night. A bit of advice? Don’t squirm when he gets to work— reminding you of the good times.

❌Ghost keeps it going strong with the scary voicemails. And they keep getting worse. The grunting, and threats, the desperation coating his voice. Not nice to keep your man waiting, birdie. They’re followed by photos. Printed out physically, slipped in your mail slot or under your door, bare. No envelope, no address or signature. All dated with black sharpie, all recent. You looking both ways, getting ready to cross the street. Changing out of your work clothes when you get home. His gloved thumb gently brushing your lip while you’re sleeping. His cum on your toothbrush. That one is dated as two weeks old. Just let him back into your life, birdie.

⭕️ Price feels his heart sing when he sees your name on the caller id. He gives the perfect, respectful response. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything alright? When he agrees to meet up with you, he doesn’t let it show how eagerly he’s been waiting for the chance. Tells you that you look good. Life must’ve been treating you well since he last saw you. He seems so genuinely pleased for you… He almost lets his calculated restraint slip when you say you’d like to give things another go. Asks if you’re sure. If he were being honest, in his eyes, things never ended. This was just a rough patch. But he’s glad you’ve come around to seeing it his way. He’ll have you moved back in by the end of the month, swollen with his kid by the end of the next. It’ll weigh you down, make it easier for him to slip the ring on.

⭕️ Honest to god, König sees the halo glow behind your crown when you meet up with him, and agree to a second chance. He promises that he’ll be better— you won’t want for anything, he’ll be so good for you. He’s acting like you’ve agreed to marry him. Maybe because in his mind, you have. That’s inevitable, seeing as he’s never going to lose you again.

❌ Nikolai starts getting a lot less… clean with your potential paramours. Gone are the bribes, the simple threats and ghosting— in are the bloody heaps of men that are just alive enough to twitch. This could all stop. Just be his good girl again, come back to your ivory tower. Papochka won’t be upset, he’ll just be glad to have you home. His patience for you is endless, but for the rest of the world? Well, do you really want to find out?

[themuseofaphrodite]

santa doesn’t know you like i do ✧ MV33

summary: it’s christmas eve, and your boyfriend, max verstappen — a notoriously bad gift giver — still has not told you what presents he had bought you. unbeknownst to you, however, he has found the wishlist you jokingly wrote to santa, and is planning a heartwarming surprise for his beloved.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1.1k

note: phrases and sentences in the dutch language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Dear Santa, the letter began, I know that I’m almost twenty-three years old, so writing a letter to you is kind of foolish, but I still believe in the magic of Christmas, even if you aren’t real. This Christmas, I’m not really expecting much. My boyfriend, Max Verstappen, buys me anything I ask for, no matter what time of the year it is. He’s the best partner I could ask for. But the reason why I’m writing this letter is because he is clueless when he has to pick out gifts on his own, without my assistance.

So, before I go off on a tangent talking about how bad his solo gifts have been — do I have to mention the knitted red socks or lavender flavored gumballs? —, these are the things that I’m most looking forward to hopefully seeing under the Christmas tree.

A new set of lipsticks, because mine is really old and running out. I didn’t want to ask Max to buy me one, because I feel bad making him pay for anything.

The new rose gold spade necklace from Chanel. I saw it in a display case at the store in Monaco, and I was itching to purchase it. It’s really beautiful.

And last, but not least, a carton of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the ones in the golden wrap and the crunchy nuts. My mouth is salivating just from thinking about it.

I know that there’s probably no point to writing this letter since you’re not exactly a living, breathing person, but a part of me hopes that your magic might help figure some of the kinks in Max’s terrible gift-giving skills out.

After writing the letter, you ended up throwing it away in the trash. It was such a waste of time, you thought. What in the world possessed you to do this? You were a busy woman, working for Red Bull as a PR manager. There was never a quiet moment. That was how you and Max had met: you were assigned to aid Liam Lawson in figuring out any media scandals, but as soon as Max had laid eyes on you, he’d immediately ordered Christian Horner to switch you to helping him out.

You were unsure of him, how aggressive and competitive he was. He wouldn’t shy away from direct confrontation, and that terrified you, since the idea of verbally arguing with someone made you nauseous. But so far, eight months into the relationship, you and Max had not had a single fight. He was loving, patient, and kind, willing to hear your side of the story every single time, even if he looked like he was about to flip a table. (This usually happened in PR meetings: you never argued outside of work.)

This would be your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. You knew what to get him: a new Red Bull team shirt and a pair of matching scarves that had colorful cats printed on it. It was purr-fect, and you knew that Max would — hopefully — love it.

Max entered the room, his steps hurried as he typed away on his phone and let out a big huff in frustration. You leaned against the wall, watching him as you sipped your chocolate-flavored boba tea. “Hey, is everything all good, mijn leeuw?” you asked, tacking on the Dutch pet name that fit your boyfriend perfectly. He was a lion, loud and courageous…especially in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought.

Max looked up from his phone, his mouth a little open in confusion. “No, I’m OK, liefde. Just…fucking delivery people, not being on time.” Your eyebrow quirked, and Max shook his head. “And no, for the seventh time, I will not tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas. I know your birthday might’ve been bad, but I promise this time I’ll be good. Ik hou van je, schat.”

“Ik houd ook van jou,” you responded. “But I think I have every right to be concerned.”

Max rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were and placing one arm above your head, effectively locking you in place. “It will be fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “And if it does end up wrong, I’ll fuck you really well to make up for it.”

You blushed, averting your gaze away from him. “Max.”

“It’s true.” He released his hand from the wall, moving a dozen inches apart from your face. “Geloof me, lieverd.”

You bit your tongue and didn’t respond.

The next evening, also known as Christmas night, you and Max were preparing to open your presents. Your stomach was like a swarm of butterflies, you were so nervous to see what was in store for you under the tree. Max, however, was the epitome of ice-cold, his face betraying no hint as to what he may have purchased.

“Your turn first, engel.” Max motioned for you to select your first gift, and with shaky hands, you began to unpeel the small, square-shaped package. Finally unveiling it, you realized what it was: the rose gold spade Chanel necklace you’d been wanting for so long.

“Max! Oh my God, jij bent de beste!” you cried out, hugging him tightly and making him crack up in laughter. “How did you know?” you asked as you pulled away, but Max shrugged his shoulders.

“I just know things, liefde.” It was now Max’s turn to select his first gift, and he chose the nondescript package that held the colorful cat scarves in them. You suppressed a smile, watching as he carefully cut through the gift wrapping and sifted through the gift paper. His face broke out in a large smile, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “Cat scarves? This is adorable!”

“I hoped you would like it,” you said, beaming back at him. You shifted your position to pick up another gift; this time, it was heavy and rectangular. An inkling of suspicion wormed its way through you as you met Max’s gaze. “If this is what I think this is… Thank you.”

It was, in fact, a new set of lipsticks, just like you had written in your letter to Santa Claus. Somehow, Max must have found the letter and bought everything that you’d put on the list.

“You deserve it,” Max responded, pulling you close to him after you both had finished unwrapping the presents. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I owe you the world.”

You kissed his temple. “You’re the most incredible partner I could ever have.”

“Merry Christmas, hart van mij.”

Needless to say, you paid Max back for the thoughtful presents all night long. It was a Christmas you’d never forget, and you sent up a silent thanks to the magic of Santa Claus for having it all work out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[simjaexy]

𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙚 | 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚

“𝑰’𝒎𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖”

𝑨 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍

Synopsis — Spending the Christmas day with your lover couldn’t be any better, until you both get caught under a mistletoe. You know what they say, any man is allowed to kiss a woman under it. So why would they let that slip away when you’re under it in their arms?

Genre — Pure fluff

Wc — 1.9k

Now playing — Mistletoe by Justin Bieber

A/n — One more day until Christmas! Decided to make a Christmas special cuz my dumb self never does those ;) but in a further note if you don’t wanna kiss anyone under a mistletoe then by all means don’t do it! the synopsis was the only thing I could think of LOL. Anyways.. I hope you guys enjoy this one cuz I know I did. Like, Reblog, Comment, Etc.! If you would like to be on the perm add a comment!

masterlist here

❆ Heeseung and you walked hand in hand enjoying the festive night together. As much as Heeseung wasn’t fond of the coldness, he couldn’t say no to your pouty face wanting to spend this day together. Your laughter filled the air as you both talked, not a care in the world if people look at you strange.

“Heeseung look!” You beamed. Heeseung glanced over and noticed it was a reindeer photoshoot. You stared in awe, wanting to also take a photo with it. Heeseung smiled, it wouldn’t be so bad taking a photo with a reindeer. He dragged you over there softly making you giggle.

“Alright next people!” The photographer shouted. The photographer motioned for you both to stand next to the reindeer, and Heeseung slipped an arm around your waist as you posed. The reindeer looked calm and beautiful, but it was its eyes that caught your attention—large, dark, and gentle.

As the photographer snapped the picture, you couldn’t help but smile, “Heeseung,” You said playfully, “I think the reindeer’s eyes look just like yours.”

Heeseung blinked, a laugh escaping him, “What? My eyes?”

You nodded, pointing at the reindeer’s gaze, “Yeah, look at them! They’re pretty.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze softening as he met your eyes, “I guess we do share a few things in common, huh?” He leaned closer, his voice lowering. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading around your cheeks.

When the photo was printed, you smiled at the image. The reindeer’s eyes truly did look like Heeseung’s, calm. You glanced up at him, grinning mischievously, “I think you’ve got some competition now. You’re no longer the only one with that irresistible gaze.”

Heeseung winked at you, pulling you closer, “Maybe, but I think I’m still your favorite.” Heeseung stopped suddenly, eyes twinkling with playful mischief, “Look, babe,” he said, nodding toward the mistletoe.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips, “What now, Heeseung?” Heeseung already felt his heart jump with the way you said his name. God, you were it for him.

“Do you know the rules?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, “Because I think we both know what happens under the mistletoe.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours, slow and sweet, it almost felt like the world has slowed around you two as he embraced you warmly under the cold, making everything feel perfect. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Best Christmas gift ever.”

❆ Jay had been talking quietly near the Christmas tree with you, the faint sounds of holiday music playing in the background. It was a time where you and Jay decided to spend the holidays together just alone without anyone else. It was perfect for the two of you to have a relaxing Christmas.

Just then you’re favorite song came on the record and a large smile spread across your face. Jay felt his heart warm in his chest watching you get up. You extended a hand out to him and that’s when he knew what you were trying to do, “Dance with me, Jay?”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips, “A Christmas dance, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with the joy of the moment, “Why not?”

Without hesitation, Jay set his drink down and took your hand, letting you guide him into the middle of the living room. The room seemed to quiet around you, the outside world melting away as the two of you swayed slowly to the music.

The gentle rhythm of the song enveloped you both, and you felt the warmth of his touch seep into your skin, his other hand resting softly on your waist.

You rested your head against his chest, the beat of his heart syncing with the music. Jay’s arms tightened around you just a little, as though he, too, wanted to savor the stillness of the moment. As you moved together, the song seemed to stretch, as if time itself didn’t want to let go.

Jay’s voice, low and warm, broke the silence as the song neared its end, “I never knew Christmas could feel this… peaceful.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes, “It’s perfect with you.”

The last few notes of the song played out softly, and the room felt as if it had frozen in time. As you stepped back, you didn’t notice the mistletoe dangling above. Jay’s eyes glinted with mischief when he caught sight of it.

“Guess we’re under the mistletoe,” He said with a smirk, his hand gently cupping your face, “And you know, I’m not one to break tradition.”

You laughed softly, a slight blush creeping up your neck, “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me.”

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deep kiss that made your heart race, “Maybe, but it’s the perfect excuse to kiss my favorite person. Merry Christmas, love.”

❆ Jake spreaded the frosting around his gingerbread house. You, doing the same. The kitchen was filled with the smell of gingerbread as you and Jake worked side by side. The counter wasn’t really a sight to see, a mess of candy, icing, and little sprinkles of sugar everywhere. But to you, none of it mattered. It was the kind of chaos you loved.

Jake grinned at you as he carefully placed a gumdrop on the roof of his house, “Do you think we’re professional gingerbread architects yet?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “Well, if this is what passes for architecture, I’d say we’re definitely on the right track.”

He laughed, flicking a little icing onto your cheek as he leaned in, “Oh, sorry, did I get you?” He grinned mischievously, but you could tell he was proud of his attack.

You wiped it off with your finger and licked it off. You decided to reach over to steal a piece of candy from his stash, “I think I’ll take that as a challenge.”

As the two of you continued decorating, you noticed how careful Jake was with each candy placement, how his tongue poked out slightly in concentration. You always found that little habit of his cute.

You couldn’t help but smile. After a while, the two houses took shape—Jake’s house, colorful and full of candy, and yours, a little more regular but still charming in its own way. You stepped back to admire your work, a proud grin spreading across your face.

“Okay, I think we’re done,” you said, resting your hands on your hips.

Jake glanced at his creation and then at yours, comparing them, “I’ll admit, yours looks better than I thought it would.”

You shot him a playful look, “That’s what you get for underestimating me. But, honestly, I think we both did a pretty good job.”

As you both walked to the living, the smell of pine and cinnamon filled your nose. You and Jake were near the door when you both suddenly stopped, noticing the mistletoe hanging right above you.

Jake grinned playfully, his fingers brushing against yours, “Looks like we’ve got no choice but to kiss, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile, “I’m not complaining.”

Jake laughed and pulled you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. The world outside seemed to disappear, and for a moment, it was just the two of you under the mistletoe, lost in the moment.

“Best part of Christmas,” He murmured against your lips, “Kissing you.”

❆ Sunghoon watched as you wrapped up gifts you got from shops you went to earlier. You both did a little shopping for tomorrow since his friends were coming over for the holidays. You gladly made sure everyone had something. Sunghoon couldn’t help but smile seeing you so concentrated to make every gift wrapped perfectly.

He went over and sat down next to you, “Professional gift maker? Never thought I’d ever call you that.” He teased. You gave him a playful glare as he grabbed a bag. He was gonna look inside until you snatched it away within a quickness.

“That one’s for you!” You said. Sunghoon eyes twinkled in amusement. He wondered what you could have gotten him. He raised his hands up in surrender making you giggle. You put the bag behind you and continued wrapping up Jungwons gift, your fingers gently pulling tape and trimming the edges of colorful paper.

Sunghoon decided to help you out. He grabbed a scissors and wraps and started getting to work. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it was when it came out as a half-wrapped box, “I think I’ve wrapped this wrong,” Sunghoon said. His furrowed brow and slightly frustrated sigh made you laugh.

“You’re overthinking it,” You teased, reaching over to help him smooth out the paper, “It’s just a gift, not a fashion statement.”

He grinned, taking the opportunity to poke you with the edge of his tape roll, “You’re probably right. I just want it to look perfect.” His eyes softened as he looked at the pile of gifts near the tree, each one carefully chosen, each one made by you.

You stopped what you were doing for a moment and glanced at him, your heart warming at how much effort he put into everything, “You’re doing great. It doesn’t have to be perfect, Sunghoon. It’s the thought that counts.”

He smiled at you, that soft, genuine smile you loved, and nodded, “I guess you’re right. But I want this Christmas to be special for you.”

You reached over and squeezed his hand gently, your fingers brushing against his as you finished wrapping another gift, “It already is. Just being here with you, wrapping gifts together… it’s perfect.”

Sunghoon paused for a moment, his eyes catching yours. The soft glow from the tree reflected in his gaze, “Yeah. I feel the same way.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound being the rustle of paper. As you finished wrapping another gift, you sat back on your heels and admired the tree, now surrounded by a stack of neatly wrapped presents.

“You know, I think we’re done,” You said, a soft smile spreading across your face.

Sunghoon leaned back, staring at all the gifts, “You think we did a good job?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a smile, “We make a great team.”

Sunghoon chuckled and nudged you lightly, “A team, huh? Well, if we’re a team, then I think you deserve a reward.” You chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen with you following behind.

Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, stopping, before turning over to you. His eyes locking onto you with a teasing smile, “I see the mistletoe, babe.”

You looked up, noticing it hanging just above, “You don’t need an excuse, Sunghoon.”

His grin widened, “But it makes it more fun.”

Before you could protest, he was already close, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him as he deepened the kiss, making everything else fade away.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes softened, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

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[sold2vlaykz]

Anything Thomas Hewitt 🙏

Sensitive

Thomas Hewitt X Gn reader

Warning: Cum play, verbal sex, pet names! Lingerie mentioned, Oral clothed sex, virgin Tommy, Sub Tommy, hand sex, masturbation

-

You and Thomas have never been intimate, sure you’ve had your experience but this man was a virgin pure.

He’s never been touched, never been praised, never been seen in any way sexually.

So to see you dressed in such a manner, laid out all tired. Patting the spot next to you with a smile on your face waiting for him to join you in bed.

He was freshly out the shower, hair damp, and a towel around his waist.

“Hurry up Tommy.”

You groaned flipping over the red lace on your body turning with you. it was nothing special, just laced red underwear and a red bra. A matching set, and for some reason it drove him crazy.

He had never seen you so exposed, your body drooping softly over the cuff of the panty line.

You always wore his big ole’ shirts, ones that covered your calves and sometimes to your ankles. His eyes shuffled around nervously, to flustered to make eye contact with you. He hurriedly put his boxers on.

His bulge was evident, his baggy T shirt damp with little specks of water from his hair.

He walked up to you and laid on his ritual side, he knew he was hard, but he didn’t know that you knew. Didn’t know that you felt him throbbing on the back of your ass.

His head nuzzled in to the back of your neck,

He pressed himself deeper into you, your soft snoring gave him a little more confidence.

Knowing you were sleep, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Just pressing against you a little,

You’d want him too feel good wouldn’t you.

His hips thrusted towards your ass, stuffing his clothed cock in the crack of your ass. The lace was thin, it practically felt like he was rubbing on your skin.

He couldn’t hold his cover for long, every time he rubbed against you another groan left his lips.

“Tommy?”

You stirred awake, not only from the obvious hard on in the crease of your backside but the moaning and whimpering you’ve been hearing since you’ve closed your eyes.

He froze, he didn’t back away from you. In hopes you’d just go back to sleep.

“Tommy?”

You called again, you turned around facing him. You could hear his whimper as you left. You just now noticed your ass covered in wet pre-cum,

He looked up to you shamefully, burying your head in his chest.

“Mm baby it’s okay.”

Your hands made their way to his curly hair,

You placed a kiss on his forehead, your hand traveled down the inside of the blanket and squeezed his bulge ever so lightly.

Your receipt was his moan.

You started to jerk the outline of his cock, he thrusted pathetically in your hand. His heaving and pants loud, echoing throughout the room.

You tugged at the waistband of his briefs, looking up to him with pleading eyes.

“Can I?”

He stuffed his face in the pillow before nodding, his ears were hot.

You flipped on your stomach and dived under the blanket, your face now leveled with the area part of his boxers.

You licked his print, his hands gripped the sheets tightly in fear of losing control.

You gripped it through the cloth and shoved the tip in your mouth, part of his underwear soaked with your saliva.

“Shh Tommy.”

This wasn’t your first rodeo, by rodeo you meant having sex and needing to be silent. He was loud, groaning and whimpering all throughout the session.

He opened his mouth and bit down on the pillow above you, trying his best to keep as silent as he could, his virgin body as sensitive as ever.

“Awe looking at you tryna be silent for me, good boy baby.”

And before you knew it something squirted from the bottom of his briefs onto your face. You licked your lips, collecting a tad that fell.

“Did you?”

He grunted cutting you off, he quickly snatched his boxers from your hands and turned around facing opposite of you.

You immediately caught wind of what happened, Tommy knew you’ve had sex before and his biggest fear just came true.

“It’s okay.”

Your voice coed in his ear, sneakily making their way around his waste into his boxers.

Cum soaked his lower abdomen, he moaned at your touch, despite being shy leaning into it.

Your hands wrapped around the right side of his cock, him being a little too big for you to fully cover it.

Your hand bombed up and down, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

The poor guy was a huffing and puffing mess, each pump was just another wave of sensation.

“Such a good boy.”

Another load squirted from him, the need to be quiet but the power of pleasure.

Your hand bounced at a steady pace, each time you came down the more cum you carried with you on your way.

He was practically shaking, a moaning mess.

You bounced your hand on him at least two more times, before his hand gripped yours and pulled you out.

You were confused before you saw the wet marks from tears, the drool on the side of his mouth. He was overstimulated, and in a second his eyes were closed.

“You did good baby.”

-

AU- (let me know how I did :)!)

[karasu4life]

Pic creds: floreaii on Pinterest

Sae Itoshi x Spanish reader, I guess... It's kinda short, not a full story but more like a little self indulgent

I can do a second part hehehehehehehbwhehedbd if y'all like slowburn

Not proofread... At all... 6.3k

First post

Sae was finally getting comfortable in this new country, after being alone for so long. Without his parents, his little brother, or anyone to keep him company during the endless stretches of free time that had slowly dwindled into nothing. Sae dedicated his entire life to football. Football, and only football. To be the best... Striker? He wasn’t even sure anymore. He should know. He was Japan's prodigy, after all.

Every day was a relentless pursuit of improvement, every second accounted for. So the fact that studying was mandatory in Spain—something he couldn't escape—was like a thorn in his side.

He had arrived at thirteen, just in time to be thrust into "primero de la ESO," the first year of high school. Now, at fifteen, he was in tercero. The years blurred together, marked only by training and the occasional match. Classes? They were background noise.

Sae glanced at his grades, printed neatly on the paper he held. Around him, his classmates were a cacophony of shouts—some celebrating, others wailing in despair.

Ah. PE.

It was the only subject where his scores shone. The rest? A mix of pity passes and resigned teachers. He folded the paper, tucked it into his backpack, and waited for the bell. Recess, or recreo, meant thirty minutes of freedom. Normally, he would spend it playing football, but today, he didn’t feel like it.

When the bell finally rang, the classroom erupted into chaos. Chairs screeched, voices overlapped, and footsteps thundered toward the door. Everyone scattered, eager for their break—everyone except one person.

You.

You were fumbling with your backpack, struggling to fix your hair while trying to retrieve your lunch. Sae watched as you sighed, frustration evident on your face.

"Me han gastado la misma broma… otra vez." Your voice was quiet, resigned.

You stood up, leaving your things behind. It wasn’t the first time Sae had seen this. The so-called friends you surrounded yourself with were more like hyenas, always pulling these "jokes." Was that considered bullying or just friendly bantering? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to label it. All he knew was that you didn’t deserve it at all.

Before he realized what he was doing, he was already on his feet, moving towards you. His body acted on instinct, though his mind questioned why. Sae wasn’t one to meddle. He didn’t really care for people. Yet here he was, holding out his lunchbox in your direction.

You blinked, startled, your eyes flicking from the lunchbox to his face.

"Eh?"

"Yo puedo quedarme con… contigo en el, how do you say it, recreo." His Spanish was stilted, awkward, and the furrow in his brow deepened as he stumbled over the words.

A giggle unintentionally escaped your lips before you could stop it. His frown deepened even more, and you quickly cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself.

"Ah, ¡claro! Uh, I mean… I'll put my English classes to good use. Of course you can stay with me! Or, eh, I can stay with you…"

Sae gave a curt nod and turned toward the door. You scrambled to grab your things, trailing after him like a lost puppy.

He didn’t say much as you walked, his expression unreadable. But you didn’t mind.

You never found the perfect wave of words to describe this boy, man, guy, dude, whatever. He was someone admirable to say less. You would always go to his matches, sneaking out of your group of friends just to see him play. You could call them your comfort space, a place where there was no one except you, your thoughts and Sae. The fact that he was someone cold attracted you, making you too curious for your own good. You wanted to get to know him without being brushed off like the rest of people who tried to talk with him.

Qué sorpresa.

Sae found the perfect wave of words to describe you. Someone annoying, very much talkative, sometimes wanting to look cool but failing miserably to the point where you don't even try anymore and just start being yourself. The fact that you took the time to try to fit in, even if you were from this same country, made him want to know more about you. Why would you do that? He couldn’t understand why you bothered pretending to do so when you were clearly better off alone. But maybe that’s what made you different from him. Maybe you weren't afraid of trying, even if it meant failing. Sae didn't try. He didn't let himself fail. He wanted to know why you did.

How surprising.

You found a spot under the shade of a tree, just far enough from the chaos of the football field. The moment you sat down, a ball went flying towards your head.

You saw your whole life flash by in 5 seconds, which was how long it took Sae to react by stopping the ball with his foot and sending it back into the field, startling the group of boys who had sent it flying in the first place.

"¿Seriously?" Sae muttered, his tone dripping with irritation as he sat down and opened his lunchbox.

You stared at him, still processing what had just happened.

"Do you attract bad luck, by any chance?" he asked, his gaze flicking to you briefly before focusing on his food.

"As far as I know… no?" You frowned, though his question made you think. Were you really a magnet for bad luck? Then something caught your eye: his lunch.

"You didn’t bring un bocata!"

Sae looked up, confused. “Un what?”

"¡Bocata!" you repeated.

"…Bocado?"

"No, bocata. Like… sandwich? Bocadillo?" You gestured dramatically, as if miming the shape of a sandwich would help him understand.

"Ah. Right. That." He looked down at his neatly packed lunch—rice, chicken, and vegetables arranged with military precision. "No."

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest as if he had offended the entire nation.

"¿Cómo que no?"

"¿Cómo que sí?" he shot back, his tone flat but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

"That sentence doesn't even make sense!"—you retorted—"Do you do anything else except playing football?"

"Do you do anything else except watching people playing football?" Your jaw dropped. So, he had noticed. All those times you thought you’d been sneaky, hiding in the bleachers or at the edge of the field—he’d known.

Maybe you were too bored, didn't you have a home?

You were startled. Shutting up and fixing your hair again, uselessly putting some strands behind your ear that decided to go to their initial position. You struggled opening your backpack, Sae was interested.

What was today's prank?

"They put glue on the, this," you pointed at the zipper with a slight frown "the cremallera. Eh, zip-zip."

"Maybe you should do something about it." the boy in front of you took the backpack, forcing it open. It broke the zipper but at least you had your maravilloso bocata.

"Gracias! Eh, ah, quiero decir, no, wait, I mean thank you!"

You both smiled, even though his was almost unnoticeable... Heh... You could say you were special.

It didn't last a bit, too.

Sae had noticed many stupid habits you had. Fixing your hair when you were nervous, hiding every time the teacher asked something because you didn't like being picked, how you only put effort into the things that interested you... That's something both of you had in common.

But, the stupidest one by far was how you didn't face your so-called friends when they did things like this.

"You should report them." said the redhead, bringing a munch of rice to his mouth. "Are these really just jokes?"

"Bueno... I mean, well. It's not that bad. The worst thing they've done to me is when I decided to get too silly in a call where they took 12 screenshots to make them stickers."

You took a big bite off your bocata, looking at Sae. Sae stared back.

...

"I want to feel sorry for you but you make it impossible."

Pspspsps is it ooc

[lushrue]

currently in my priceghost era and wanted to write something with price as the more submissive one

cw: nsfw, oral (m/m), light scent kink, sub space

john sat back in his chair, huffing out an exasperated breath. fireworks exploded behind his eyelids as he dug the heels of his hands in, trying to push out the ache of eye strain. a cursory glance at the clock on his desk revealed that it had been six hours since he’d sat down to start on the mountain of paperwork on his desk. six hours of rifling through mission reports, briefing memorandums, and recruit personnel files. six hours of squinting to read tiny print because he wasn’t old enough to require reading glasses, thank you very much.

he could feel the familiar burning pain creeping up into his shoulders, a reminder of the horrid posture he’d been sitting in the whole time. he felt stiff, unnaturally so. on top of it all, he felt tired. it wasn’t his usual training-all-day-and-shouting-at-unruly-sergeants type of tired. this sank into his bones, gave his skeleton a weight it didn’t have before. even the thought of dragging his heavy body all the way back to the barracks made his back ache and his temples pulse.

his mind had been running a million miles a minute for the past week. it seemed like there was an urgent task lurking around each corner, waiting to demand his full attention. nothing could wait until tomorrow, nothing could be put on the back burner until something else was completed. everything needed done yesterday and he found himself struggling to keep up. if only the world would stop spinning for five minutes, he thought to himself. then I could catch up. it was at that moment he remembered the one man who could bring his world to a halt, if only for a little while.

price had a complicated relationship with his lieutenant. the two of them were…something to each other. they’d both chosen not to put a label on it, simply for the fact that it didn’t need one. their relationship was symbiotic, one hand washing the other for the sake of cleaning both of them. it was a fact of nature that simon was there for john in the ways that he needed, and john repaid simon in turn. in their eyes, relationships like that didn’t need a label. barnacles don’t call the whale it hitches a ride on their lover; a clownfish doesn’t commit to the anemone that provides it shelter. they simply exist in this moment in time to serve a purpose for one another, and that was that.

the captain raised himself from his chair, dragging his heavy feet down the hall towards simon’s office. john knew that simon was up to his nose in paperwork just the same as him. the two of them had talked at length over a pack of cigarettes about how a paper trail was inconvenient at best and dangerous at worst. they both had a nasty habit of putting it all off until later and having to burn the midnight oil more than once to make up for it. his knuckles rapped four times against the door, the rhythmic pattern of it identifying who was knocking. simon had developed it, a way to know that the person on the other side of the door was important enough to put down the pen.

he was met with a gruff “come in” from the lieutenant, his fingers trembling slightly as they closed around the doorknob and twisted. when he pushed the door open, the sight of simon, maskless, greeted him. it was rare for simon to go anywhere on base without at least the balaclava on, but the state of his hair showed that he’d just pulled it off. on nights like these, simon didn’t wear it. it was far too important to john to be able to see his face. simon’s eyes were soft, gentle, as they took in the way john stood in his doorway. shoulders slumped, the lines on his face deeper, the bags under his eyes heavier. simon could read any man like a book, but when it came to his captain, he knew things no one else had ever gotten close enough to know. there was a look in john’s eyes, a certain helplessness that was reserved only for him.

“rough night?” simon asked, leaning back in his office chair and nodding to John to close the door. john did as instructed, a dry chuckle bubbling out of his chest. “you don’t know the half of it,” he replied, voice raspy. he sounded as worn as he looked. it reminded simon of the dirt caked into the tread of his boots, stomped on a thousand times before finally getting to rest. simon just grunted in reply, picking up the pen from his desk. he made a small tick on the report he was reading to mark his place before turning his full attention to his captain. “would you like to talk, or not talk?” simon asked, his words laced with a meaning only the two of them could discern. john met his gaze, a weight seeming to lift off of his shoulders as he made his decision. “not talk.”

simon nodded in understanding, the movement curt and quick. it was almost tactical the way the two of them moved around each other. simon took up his position on the small sofa in his office, parting his legs shoulder-width apart. he took one of the pillows from beside him, holding it out to john as he circled around to his own position. john took the pillow, placing it on the floor between simon’s feet, and lowered himself down onto it. he grunted as his knees hit the tile floor, the blow gratefully softened by the fabric and stuffing. they’d quickly discovered that it was a necessary part of this routine.

“you solid?” john looked up to find simon’s eyes on him, the deep brown of his irises laced with concern. the captain swallowed down the lump forming in the back of his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “solid,” he replied, his tone short. he didn’t want to concern himself with how he felt. not now, not when it all felt too big to handle. simon simply nodded, raising a hand to rest on the back of john’s head. he guided it to his thigh, letting john rest against him for a moment. john didn’t want to talk, and that was fine with simon. he usually did all the talking on nights like these anyway. hours upon hours of silence left him with a lot to say.

“you deserve this, y’know,” he said, stroking his fingers along the length of john’s scalp. “deserve to put down the reins for a bit, have someone else take ‘em up.” john shivered under simon’s touch, goosebumps rising on his arms. it was never true in his own head, but when simon said it, john drank it in like it was gospel. he nodded, his cheek rubbing against the fabric of simon’s fatigues. “i deserve this,” he repeated softly, voice strained with the weight of the emotion he was keeping in.

simon nodded in approval, pleased with john’s acceptance. in the beginning, when they’d first started this little ritual, the captain had done everything he could to keep simon at arm’s length. he’d never stay for long once he’d been given what he needed and eye contact was scarce. now, john had reconciled with the fact that sometimes, he didn’t want to be in charge. sometimes, he needed someone else to tell him what to do. taking orders was as natural as breathing for him, especially when giving them felt like a burden he couldn’t bear. “that’s a good lad,” simon praised, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “you know just what ta do, don’t you? meltin’ in a puddle at my feet.” john’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, turning his head to press his face into simon’s thigh.

simon just chuckled. his boy could be awfully shy when he wanted to be. “look at me,” he commanded. john felt a shiver down his spine at simon’s tone. it wasn’t the same one he used with the sergeants, or when he was training the recruits. it was reserved specially for him, a low timbre that rattled around his brain and dislodged any unwanted thoughts still hanging around. the captain turned his head up, hazy blue eyes meeting simon’s dark chocolate ones. “so beautiful. ya know tha’? most beautiful thing on God’s green earth, on your knees for a nasty bugger like me.”

john wanted to protest, to assure simon that he was far from the nastiest bugger he’d ever knelt for, but the words wouldn’t come. thoughts swirled around in his head like smoke, thin and incorporeal. he tried to grasp at them, but his hands went right through. all he could do was hum and shake his head. simon shook his head, lips rounding in a soothing shushing noise. “don’t think. let me do tha’ for ya.” he placed a finger under john’s chin, stroking him like one would a cat. john’s eyes fluttered shut, letting the feeling of simon’s calloused trigger finger against his throat lift the weight of reality that hung heavy on his shoulders.

slowly, john’s head started to drift off into a much nicer place. it was softer, gentler. mission reports and recruit files fell to the wayside, briefings and emails and memorandums were long forgotten. all there was, in this moment, was him and simon. simon caught every moment of john’s slip, the way his jaw went slack and his eyes stared beyond him. he admired the way john’s eyes seemed to sparkle, admiration shining bright in them. when the stresses of the outside world fell away, all that was left was simon. the lieutenant shifted his hand, dragging his finger up john’s jaw until his hand came to rest on the crown of john’s head. the weight was comforting and grounding, keeping him tethered to the earth.

“tha’s a good boy,” simon praised, his thumb stroking john’s scalp. the captain practically purred, pressing his head up into simon’s touch. it felt nice and his one-track mind wanted more of it. simon shifted on the sofa, sweatpants growing tight. something in john’s far-away gaze made him chub up, the way he was so vulnerable and trusting beneath him. here, simon held all the power. “jus’ needed a li’l stress relief, hmm? needed your simon to get ya through.” john nodded, drool leaking against simon’s thigh.

simon chuckled at the sight, reaching forward and wiping some of the spit from the corner of john’s mouth. with a gentle motion, he pressed his thumb to the seam of john’s lips, pressing insistently. john’s mouth fell open and simon pushed his finger in, letting his thumb rest against john’s tongue. the way his lips closed around the digit made simon groan. he’d quickly discovered that his boy had an oral fixation, always needing something in his mouth to keep him occupied. all those damn cigars, he’d figured. john hollowed his cheeks, eyes fluttering shut as he bobbed his head on simon’s thumb. he whined low in his throat when he realized it wasn’t quite what he needed, shifting impatiently on the pillow.

“settle, lovie. i’ll give ya what ya need soon enough. jus’ wanna enjoy the sight of ya.” simon leaned back against the sofa, utterly transfixed by the man in front of him. john’s tongue curled around simon’s finger, teeth lightly scraping the skin. with his eyes heavy-lidded, he looked the very picture of debauchery, letting go and giving simon his soft underbelly. drool pooled in the corners of his mouth, wetting his lips and cheeks. if simon thought hard enough, he could pretend that it was his cock between john’s lips instead. he groaned aloud at the mere image, cock tenting his sweats. he used his free hand to push the waistband down, dragging his boxers down with it.

john opened his eyes, teeth digging into the flesh of simon’s thumb as he caught sight of what he truly wanted. he could smell the musk coming off of the lieutenant, thick and heavy in his nose. he pulled his head back and released simon’s thumb, leaning forward to mouth at his cock. his tongue trailed along the protruding vein at the base, humming softly when simon shivered with delight. simon’s head fell back against the wall, his eyes screwed shut as his cock twitched. precum dripped down his shaft, the tip red and angry at having been ignored thus far.

simon cupped the back of john’s head, coaxing him to look up. john met simon’s gaze, baby blue eyes pleading for permission. “this what you wan’, baby? want this fat cock down your throat?” simon asked, voice rough and gravelly. john nodded, the stimulation of his cheek against simon’s cock making his thighs clench. he couldn’t find the words, mouth moving to beg, but simon shushed him. “none o’ that. not gonna let my best boy go without,” he cooed, adjusting his hips so that the tip of his cock laid against john’s lips.

john’s tongue darted out, lapping up the precum that was beading up. it was salty and bitter, but he drank it in like the sweetest ambrosia. simon moaned loud, the sound coming from low in his chest. he’d long since given up on trying to be quiet on these nights. there was hardly anyone around, and if there were any nosy recruits, he’d shut them up with latrine duty. “tha’s it, right fuckin’ there,” he groaned, hips bucking to press his cock deeper into john’s mouth. “take it all, lovie. know you can, so good for me-”

simon’s words were cut off when john took him to the hilt, the captain’s throat rumbling with a satisfied moan. electricity shot up his spine, simon’s hands scrambling for purchase on the sofa. the pleasure was heady, thoughts dissipating like clouds and the room spinning like a carousel. as pent up as he was, it only took a few minutes and a well-timed swallow for simon to lose himself. he spilled down john’s throat, pearly-white spend shooting into the back of his mouth. john drank it down, needy moans vibrating around simon’s cock as he sucked him through his orgasm. 

the moment simon’s soul came back into his body, he eased john’s head back, tapping his cheek to coax him to breathe. john was panting, eyes glistening with tears from all the times he’d gagged. his cheeks were flushed, a cum-drunk expression on his face. simon was satisfied, and it seemed john was too. needs fulfilled for each other, symbiotic relationship solidified. john took his moment of rest, catching his breath before parting his lips again. simon acquiesced, placing his softening prick on john’s waiting tongue. there was no need for pleasure, no work to be done. the two of them could rest here like this for as long as they needed, basking in the glow of the moment they’d shared. “good boy,” simon praised breathlessly, petting john’s hair. “keep it warm for me, tha’s it.”

a few hours later, once they’d parted ways and john had settled in for bed, he found a different kind of weight had settled on his chest. perhaps these nightly routines were more than just quid pro quo, but no matter. simon could help him figure it all out later.

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 6

A/N: Christmas is about to kill me, y'all. Have a chapter of Jo for your Christmas Eve! Love you guys! (Another one might be coming very soon so stay tuned!)

Need to get caught up? Masterlist HERE.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, smoking

Word count: ~2.3k

“And you're right.” He mumbles into her neck. “But I'm not just scared; I'm fuckin’ terrified.”

“I know. It's okay.” She turns and puts her arms around him, kissing his forehead gently.

******

Jo flops around in her bed for about 6 hours and then gets up for work. It's amazing how quickly she got used to having Elvis beside her as she sleeps. She puts on her black skirt and red sweater with boots and heads into the office.

For about 9 more hours, she bounces between staring at her word processing machine and the clock, anxious for the end of the day to come. She wonders if he's thinking about her, or if he's realized their tryst was fun, but unrealistic to continue. In some ways, it does seem a little absurd to meet someone and love them so fully and so completely in such a short amount of time. But she knows what she feels and she knows he has to feel something similar. He's everything she ever dreamed he would be and more. She just has to convince him not to let his fear get the best of him.

******

Elvis wanders around the house after Jo leaves looking for traces of her: her glass in the sink, her makeup on the pillowcase, a lipstick kiss she left on his mirror. When he looks at the lip print, he catches his reflection and doesn't cringe for once. There's a light in his eyes that hasn't been there for years. He knows why it's there.

Then he remembers that he sent her away, turns from the mirror, and goes to bed. He sits on the edge of it staring down at the pills in his hand. Does he need them? He hasn't in days. But that was because she had been there, a constant reminder that he had a reason to try to live without them. He carries them into the bathroom and looks at the other bottles, the ones that he takes to get through the day. There's no way he can stop taking all of them just cold turkey like this, but he can cut back. Or he could if she was there. He drops the handful of pills into the toilet and flushes it. Sleeping is nearly impossible, but when he closes his eyes and imagines her next to him, he's able to get a couple of hours.

He drags himself out of bed around 1pm the next day. The Colonel shows up to discuss the New Year's Eve show he's arranged in Michigan. Elvis half listens and hopes he doesn't agree to anything too drastic. On his way out, Colonel Parker corners Jerry.

“He's distracted. What's wrong?” The Colonel gives him a cold stare and Jerry swallows hard.

“He met a girl.”

“He meets girls every day.” Jerry shakes his head.

“No, you misunderstood. He met a girl.” The Colonel looks at him sharply.

“What kind of girl?”

“A good one. She's good for him.” Jerry squares his shoulders defiantly, ready to go to bat for Jo if he has to.

“Hmm. Should I be worried?” Jerry shakes his head, shaggy hair moving wildly.

“No. She might save him.” The Colonel nods and walks out the front door.

Elvis looks at his watch. 2:30pm. Only an hour and half until she comes home.

Home?

Home.

******

At 3:45pm, Jo is ready to crawl out of her skin. She wants to leave so badly to see Elvis. Weirdly, the receptionist comes to her and tells her she has a phone call. She puts out her cigarette and follows the older lady to the phone. Who on earth would call her at work?

“Tink?” His smooth baritone cuts straight to her soul.

“Elvis! Why are you calling me at work?” She's absolutely beaming, trying to keep her voice even.

“Missed ya. But also I wanted to tell you to…” He trails off and Jo can feel him losing his nerve.

“To what, babe?” She hears him sigh.

“To pack some clothes before you come over. I wanted to see if you might wanna stay… for a while…”

“I would love to.” He brightens instantly, so much so that she can practically hear it through the phone.

“Well okay then! I'll see you in a little bit. I love you, honey.” She smiles.

“I love you too, Elvis.” They hang up and the receptionist stares at her.

“Was that really Elvis Presley?” She asks flatly. Jo considers lying for a bit, for his sake, and then decides against it.

“Yeah. It was.”

“Mkay.” Jo nods and starts to walk away. She hears the receptionist whisper under her breath. “Lucky bitch.”

******

When Jo knocks on the door with her suitcase, Elvis actually answers it himself. He grabs her around the waist and kisses her like they've been apart for months.

“Wondered when you'd get here.” He presses his forehead to hers.

“Well, I had to go pack, didn't I?” She gestures to the suitcase and he picks it up to bring it inside.

They settle into dinner, both of them avoiding the inevitable conversation that they started last night. Finally, when there's no more food or ice cream or anything else to distract them, Elvis clears his throat and lights a cigar. They're settled in the TV room, but there's nothing playing on any of the screens.

“Is this a conversation I need to be smoking for?” Jo asks tentatively. He smiles a little and she reaches for his cigar, taking a drag and handing it back to him.

“Tink, I spent the whole day thinking about it.” She expects him to go on, but he doesn't. Her heart is in her throat.

“And what did you come up with?” He lets out a puff of smoke and looks at her.

“I can't stand being without you.” She smiles. “But I have no idea how we make this work.”

“What do you mean?” Now it's her turn to take the cigar.

“Well, I'm not going to change anything about my life. I really can't. And you have a whole life of your own. I can't ask you to uproot all of that just to be with me. What if we… don't… what if it ends? And then what?” She smokes for a bit in silence and then speaks softly.

“What if I die tomorrow?” He blinks and his eyes flash with something he's not ready to admit.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, honey?”

“What if I'm driving to work and one of those big trucks hits my car and I die?”

“Don't even talk like that.” He takes the cigar back, gritting his teeth.

“What if it happens in three years? What if you die?” Elvis is visibly uncomfortable with the way this conversation is going.

“You better make your fuckin’ point, Tink.”

“We have no idea what might happen tomorrow. Or in three years. All we have is right now. You can't live your life thinking about all the ways it can go wrong. What kind of adventure would that be?”

“No kind.” She takes the cigar.

“Exactly. So now I'm gonna ask you this. How do you wanna live your life right now?” Elvis looks at the woman in front of him: the one who ran on stage and then threw paper airplanes over the wall to get to him and make sure he was okay, the one who made him leave the house for the first time in too long, the one who convinced him to jump into a freezing pool and then made love to him even when he thought he couldn't, the one who brought him back to life and shows him every second that it's worth living.

“With you.” He reaches out and cups her cheek and she smiles and leans into his hand like a cat. She takes another quick drag and then kisses his palm.

“Then why do we need this big plan? Let's just live and be together until we can't anymore. Isn't that better?” He takes the cigar and puts it out in the ashtray. Jo isn't sure whether she should cry or not, so she just sits and watches him.

“You never cease to amaze me, honey.” He pulls her into his lap straddling his thighs and kisses her lips gently. Then he whispers. “Let's be together until we can't anymore.”

“Yes…” She giggles and nods. He kisses her again with more urgency this time and on the third kiss, both of their mouths are open as their tongues dance wildly against each other. She rolls forward, pushing her skirt up her thighs and presses herself against him. He moans softly into the kiss and grabs her ass with both hands, pulling her in as close as she can get. Reluctantly, she breaks the kiss. “Should we go upstairs?”

“Why?” He kisses her neck and drags his tongue up to her ear– a move he hasn't tried in years. She groans as he nibbles on her earlobe.

“Well, I'd like to do more than just kiss you-”

“We're on a perfectly good couch.”

“Elvis.”

“Tink.” He lifts her up and flips her over so that he's on top of her. “I had this couch made deep like this for a reason.”

“I'll try not to think about how many women you've had on this couch..” She giggles as he kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

“Smart girl. But I have to say, you're my favorite.” He lifts her sweater over her head and off, tossing it across the room. His lips drift down her chest to the place where her bra meets her skin. He gently pulls the cup down and slips his tongue around her nipple. Her back arches as he pulls it into his mouth and then releases it, moving over to her other nipple. “I want this off, honey.”

She nods, sitting up a little to unfasten her bra and take it off. He grunts when he sees her breasts bounce free, leaning down to kiss and nibble her soft skin.

“I bet you say that to all of us.” She lets out a small half-laugh. He stops and pulls back, looking down at her seriously.

“No, I mean it, Tink. I don't think I want any more. Just you.” She holds her hand up to the side of his face and traces the line of his brow down to his jaw and up to his lips. He kisses her fingertips and waits for her to speak, but she doesn't. She just runs her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder, finally landing at the middle of his chest under his necklace and directly above his heart, her eyes following the path she makes with her hand. He starts to get nervous that he's said something wrong. “Say something, honey.”

Her eyes flit back up to meet his clear blue ones and she opens her mouth, but closes it again.

“What is it?” Now he's really worried. She's never been speechless before. Finally, she speaks so softly he can barely hear her.

“I don't know how to tell you that I think I was meant for you without sounding like I'm crazy.”

“Oh, honey. If you're crazy, then so am I.” He dives into a deep and passionate kiss as she pulls at his clothes, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and shirt over his head and off. He yanks her skirt down her legs, tearing at her panties with a fire he hasn't felt in years. The need to be close to her is so strong, it overwhelms any sense of doubt or apprehension as she pushes his pants down just enough to free his erection. The next thing he knows, he's on top of her with his cock sliding in and out of her as she whimpers and moans and claws at his back. He groans with the sensation of her wrapped around him as he pounds her with a fervor he didn't know he still had. The heat of their passion is matched only by their love for each other.

“Oh God, Elvis.” She moans in his ear as he hits her g-spot at a relentless pace. Her legs wrap around his waist and he grunts with the change in angle. Their skin burns with sweat in the places where it meets and she whimpers as she feels her climax approach. “Oh fuck!”

Her body shakes involuntarily as her orgasm slams into her like a freight train, rushing through her with the speed and intensity of a lightning bolt. She clings to him as he continues to rut into her while she cums, her pussy throbbing and pulsing around his dick.

“Goddamn, Tink, honey, I love it when you cum.” He moans and slams into her one last time, pressing his forehead to hers as his cock twitches and fills her with warmth.

They lay there, both of them trembling in the aftershocks of their orgasms. He kicks his pants all the way off and then rolls onto his back to settle her against his side with her leg and arm thrown over his body.

“Move in with me.” He whispers into her hair. She picks her head up and looks into his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Move in here and we'll be crazy together. You are my big adventure, honey. Live with me.” He holds her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he talks.

“I'm gonna need to pack more than that little suitcase.”

“So that's a yes?”

“That's a fuck yes, babe.” He giggles and tickles her sides excitedly and they laugh together on the big-enough couch, naked and unafraid of the future… for now.

******

What next?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

RIOFY Gift Exchange

Heyyyyy @stephiethewephie I gotchyu girlie!!! I hope you have a very merry Christmas!!

Summary: Yuu very vaguely explains Christmas to Heartshackle, who then take it upon themselves to do the best they can with what little info they get to bring Yuu's holiday to TWST.

"What's Christmas?" Grim asked, happily licking his paws clean of tuna.

You hummed with a bit of awkwardness - you hadn't really meant to bring it up, but with three pairs of expectant eyes on you, you couldn't exactly wave it off.

You washed your hands and the can opener, waving your hand a bit dismissively.

"It's a holiday we have back home around this time of year. Thought you guys might celebrate it here too, apparently not." You tried not to let the dismay creep into your voice, but scheming glances were exchanged behind your back.

Ace spoke up first, throwing his hands behind his head and grinning. "Who would want to celebrate a holiday named after a guy named Chris? Sounds pretty boring to me."

Deuce shot him a dirty look at first, but smiled a little awkwardly just as you turned. "I think what he means to say is we'd like to hear more about it."

An amused sigh left you as you shrugged a bit. "Well it's not named after a guy named Chris, for starters, but that's a whole can of beans we're not even going to bother opening. Christmas is just...kind of like any other holiday? You decorate a tree, have treats, hang out with family and friends, exchange gifts...you know. Holiday-y." You waved your hand a bit dismissively again, as if trying to ward off the incoming wave of homesickness.

"It's not like it really matters." You managed a small smile, moving to pick up Grim and hold him, more for a source of comfort than anything, but he didn't fight you on it. "You guys are going home for Winter Break, so Grim and I can host our own mini celebration with the ghosts."

Grim moved to nuzzle his face against yours as you headed towards the stairs, the Heartslaybul duo left with a mission and minimal information.

Before you and Grim completely left their sight, Grim managed to sneak a wink and a thumbs up to the two boys at the bottom of the staircase, a silent promise to try and get you to talk more.

-----

What a miserable day

For starters, you had woken up to Grim having given himself a fur-cut that he demanded you evened out. You hadn't bothered asking how he had managed to do it, at this point one Grim-related mishap in the morning was standard. But on top of his demanding attitude, he refused to let you even LOOK down the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, covering your eyes and instructing you when you were at the last two steps to 'not peek'. You would have investigated further if you weren't already late.

Despite it being the last day of term, Trein snuck in a pop quiz, and Crewel had somehow already managed to mark the finals you had written yesterday, and your mark was below what you had been aiming for.

Your friends, for whatever reason, refused to hang out as a group today which only served to make your mood worse. It just didn't feel right when two people were always missing, and it felt like it was just amounting to some trouble they were trying to keep from you noticing.

With Grim running off ahead of you at the dismissal bell, you weren't exactly in high spirits as you trudged through ankle deep snow, socks wet and cold, all the way to Ramshackle in weather you really weren't prepared for.

You followed what was obviously Grims's little paw prints in the snow, all the way back to Ramshackle, hands shivering slightly as you reached for your keys, only to realize they weren't where they were supposed to be.

Right. Of course. Grim would have taken them if he ran ahead.

You sighed wearily, wanting nothing more than to go to bed and crash until the end of break as the door creaked open.

"SURPRISE"

You startled as warm light flooded your senses, and the voices of your closest friends rang out from the hallway in front of you.

It took a moment to process, but in the time it took for you to register the ragtag team of first years in front of you, one of them had already casted magic to dry you off and warm you up.

Epel came forward, shoving a warm cup of apple cider into your hands as he wrapped an arm around you and welcomed you into your own home, Grim hopping up onto your shoulder and nuzzling his face against yours.

"Myahaha whatchya think hench-human? Does it look like you imagined it, or even bettah?!"

Deuce ruffled Grim's fur as he moved to stand next to you, looking equal parts hopeful and awkward. "We tried our best, hopefully it's kind of like home."

Your livingroom was bathed in soft glow-y stringlights, the fireplace roaring. There were mismatched pairs of regular, every day socks placed on top of the mantle. The hallway that Grim had previously prevented you from entering had a large pine tree drawn, in crayon, on the wall with paper decorations on it. The smell of something...VERY ginger-y, (and maybe a little burnt) came from the kitchen. There were popcorn garlands hung across the rafters, and a small stack of presents sitting in the very middle of the room.

The cherry on top, was Ortho floating towards you with a glass of...something, that he seemed confused about.

"I attempted to make eggnog but....I think even with following all the instructions I did something wrong."

With the influx of emotions provoked by the whole, messy, chaotic, put-together-in-love thing, you couldn't help a small tearful giggle as a chunk of scrambled egg floated to the top of what could only be considered "spiced milk" at this point.

Ace seemed to notice immediately, taking the glass gently from Ortho and hugging around your shoulders to turn you around for a moment.

"Come on guys, it was a long day today, at least give'm the chance to get comfortable before they join the festivities." He casually handed off the too-eggy-eggnog to Jack, gently leading you towards the stairs so that you'd have access to your room. "And somebody go check on the gingerbread!"

He only paused once you were both just out of sight of the main group, dropping his "chill" facade.

"You okay? We thought it might be nice to have a taste of home but...sorry if we butchered it or...or something." He rubbed the back of his neck, pouting just slightly as he looked off to the side. "It was my idea so if it sucks, I can just tell'em you weren't feeling well cuz of the cold or something."

You laughed softly and shook your head, wiping your eyes as you hugged him, catching him slightly off guard.

"No Ace. No, this is perfect. Thank you."

He was quiet for a moment, before wrapping his arms around you as well.

"Well good. Because you deserve it. Happy Christmas, Yuu."

-----------------------------

Hope you liked it!!! Have a very merry Christmas!

Taglist: @nemisisnemi @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @lumdays @starry-night-rose @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @theleechyskrunkly

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[siyuri]

Ef's moment of respite at the bottom of the Mariana Trench from amazing story Falling Falling Stars by @not-poignant

[sysig]

I’m turning you all into marketable plushies, you watch (Patreon)

Bonus eyes because embroidery brain:

[dullahandyke]

and like sidenote if i can make a post with a target audience of zero. i feel like fhsy was to d20 what aa3 was to ace attorney but aa3 pulled it off better for reasons i cannot explain

[scarlettcryptid]

the brainrot has developed to a point where i will see a photo of shouto and immediately think, "my little brother looks so cute."

[anotherpapercut]

my best advice to anyone who's still in middle/high school is to make your teachers think you are the nicest sweetest purest little goody two shoes on the planet so that you can get away with breaking rules fairly openly bc your teachers either won't believe it or will view it as a very minor issue since you're the perfect student