#i keep doing these at midnight for goodness sake

[goblin-enjoyer]

*draws something for the first time in a while. “Man I suck at drawing! Maybe go back to being good at it if I draw more!”

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

“Oh I got a neat idea for a drawing! Surely I have gotten better by now!” Loop post

[cyphertaehyungie]

✨☁️💌🌙💫

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[saetoshi]

i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would

Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.

An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.

Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.

Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).

His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.

When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.

“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.

Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.

“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.

“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.

“I know. Want me to pick you up?”

“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”

“Sae.”

The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.

He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.

“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.

God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.

“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”

Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”

You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”

“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).

“I wanna go home.”

“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”

He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”

“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”

“Yeah?”

He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”

“I don’t—”

“And I’m bringing you down with me.”

A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.

“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.

Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.

[jayschaconne]

PAST MIDNIGHT | Sim Jake | Park Sunghoon

summary: Being called over to their shared dorm after meeting at a night out in the club.

warnings: (minors dni), pure heavy smut (graphic), swearing, slight size kink (?), slight degrading kink, (Sunghoon referred to as “hoon” at times), (sunghoon as a very rough dom), (jake as the sweetest most romantic dom ever it hurts), not proofread

a/n: this one had me giggling and twirling my hair (also sunghoon seems like such a jeep guy to me). sacrificed my sleep for this so at least try to enjoy whores <3

…

Jake pushed his way through the crowd, hands behind your back, leading you towards the entrance.

Practically being thrown into the backseat of Sunghoon’s jeep, you trembled as you felt Jake pull on the straps of your dress.

The cold breeze of the air conditioning hit your bare chest, making you shiver.

“Oh, so pretty baby,” Jake sighed softly, his mouth latching onto your tits, sucking sweet and slow. He touched and teased, loving how soft your skin felt in his long, veiny hands.

Your back arched at the way his tongue felt around you.

Sunghoon — seated next to you — lifted you up to let your head rest in his lap, leaning down to connect your lips.

You felt him attacking your mouth, his tongue impatient, curling against yours. The kiss got more heated, you could feel Jake’s hands pulling down the pink lace underwear that matched perfectly with your satin dress.

“Already dripping for me,” he groaned at the sight of your wetness seeping out your heat.

His hands rubbed your clit at a slow and teasing pace. You moaned into Sunghoon’s mouth, one of your arms around his neck and the other holding Jake. Grabbing Jake’s hand, you motioned for him to speed up, failing miserably.

A soft chuckle came from him. You could hear his smile as you and Sunghoon sucked and slurped on each other’s tongues. “You want more, baby?” He teased again.

“Yes, for fuck’s sake” you moaned, lips at the corner of Hoon’s mouth.

A slap was sent to your throbbing cunt, making you whine, your grip tightening on Hoon’s neck bringing him closer.

“Don’t be bratty, love,” Jake cooed at you. God you wished you could get a good look at him. The way his hair had looked. His mouth, that you so badly wanted to feel between your legs.

“What do you say?” He purred at you with that delicious voice of his. Jake’s hands caressed your thighs, keeping them pushed apart.

“Please, I want more. I need more,” you begged.

The same chuckle had left his lips, making you feel like he’d been fucking your ears with his velvety-silk voice. Jake propped up one of your legs on his shoulder, folding the other in half, stretching it over so it hit the leather seats.

His mouth dove deep into your sopping wet cunt, closing in around your clit, sucking, licking up stripes of your arousal.

Your hands found his hair immediately, pushing his face further in, making him rub his nose in it.

Sunghoon had unbuttoned his jeans, guiding your hand over to stroke his thick, hardened cock; you were painfully eager for him to fuck you.

“Suck,” Sunghoon demanded, leaning down towards your ear, playing with your hair.

You turned your head, causing Jake to shuffle around. He moved over slightly, letting you take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Wrap your legs around me baby,” he said.

You lie there, spitting on Hoon’s cock, wrapping your legs around Jake, bringing his head deeper in. His tongue lapped up against you, occasionally stopping at times so he could suck on your sensitive bud. You could hear the sound of his lips puckering around you, tongue meeting your soaked walls.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned at the tug of his hair. You were getting impatient. Your head head bean bobbing up and down on Hoon’s dick, as you rolled your hips against Jake, wanting to feel more of him.

Sunghoon lifted his hips, starting to thrust into your mouth. Hands bunched up in your hair, as his hips met the sides of your face while you felt your mouth get fucked.

Jake’s hands had started to move down your clit, he peered up at you with his beautiful eyes, head still buried deep between your thighs that kept a strong hold on him.

He assaulted your cunt wuth his long, slender fingers, plunging deep and pulling back out again at a relentless pace.

“Fuck,” your moans got muffled around Hoon.

Sunghoon’s groans resembled deep growls, his hands coming around your neck, pushing you further down his cock, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as you felt his dick go deep down your throat.

You writhed beneath Jake, squirming on the leather beneath you at how his fingers curled so beautifully inside you. He was ruthless. So furious.

Sunghoon kept getting louder, as did you. “Look at you. Taking me like the whore you are, you’re probably such a little cumslut,” he spat in growls, panting and throwing his head back until it rolled into the headrest. His hands had pulled at your hair so much it got painful.

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned as you took him out your mouth, spitting once more. “wanna be your little cumslut,” you peered up at him through your lashes, stroking him. He slapped his cock around your mouth, teasing you.

“Please, daddy,” you begged, “need your cum all over me.”

He pushed inside your mouth once more, loving how warm your tongue was. You’d felt your cheeks go numb at how deep he went.

You were out of stamina by the time Hoon released strings of his cum into your mouth and all over your face — Jake’s fingers had been soaked in your climax after you came around them, hard.

Jake kissed you slow and sensual, letting you get a taste of yourself on his lips.

You watched him wipe his fingers clean as he took them in his mouth. “So good,” he relished tasting you.

Sunghoon had fixed his jeans back up, and moved over to the front seat.

Jake sat, sucking on the delicate skin of your neck, leaving love bites as Hoon drove back to their place. His laugh vibrated off of your skin as your arms wrapped around him.

You watched Sunghoon through the rear view mirror. His eyes on you any time there’d been a stop light. His gaze so intense — you were practically getting fucked through that mirror.

…

Back at their place, you’d been fucked several different ways that night.

Sunghoon had you bent over the counter, fucking you mercilessly from behind. One of your legs resting on the counter, his skin meeting yours in harsh, repetitive slaps.

You watched as Jake sat on a chair, stroking himself as he watched you get fucked. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, hands feeling his own skin, tracing over the abs you so desperately wanted to touch. He teased himself, reaching inside his pants, eyes fixed on your naked body, craving the feeling of your dripping cunt being wrapped around him. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth, whines leaving his beautiful mouth with when he’d gotten a good look at your tits. Your face. How cum dripped out of you. Both your need to fuck each other getting more desperate.

“Fucking slut,” Hoon growled deep in your ear. “Couldn’t wait to be wrapped around me, hm? Finally getting what you want.” His voice shook with each hard thrust, making you whine at aggressiveness of his pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good, daddy,” you screamed out. Being filled up by him made your head fuzzy. You couldn’t stop the tears that escaped your eyes at how perfectly he stretched you out.

He picked you up, letting your arms wrap around him, locking eyes with you as you bounced up and down his dick.

As he looked into your eyes, feeling you caress his face so gently, your foreheads touching, he couldn’t help but lock both your lips in a passionate kiss.

Maybe it was the way you moved against him. Every curve of yours feeling like it was made for him. He was so in love with how you looked.

…

You lie completely naked on Sunghoon’s bed — with Jake already fucking you deep into the mattress — watching him tower over you. So buff — looking gigantic in comparison. You felt yourself getting overstimulated at the glorious sight.

Your arms roamed Jake’s back, nails digging deeper into his skin. Your legs were wrapped around him securely, letting him hit the sweetest of spots.

“Fuck, yes Jake,” you moaned into the side of his neck, sighing ecstatically at how much harder he went after pulling out with each thrust. Like he’d done previously that night — Jake pulled one of your legs over his shoulders, now fucking you even more wild and senseless. This caused screams to rip through you.

“Mm, baby. So fucking tight for me,” he let out a string of moans. “You like it when I do that?”

“Mhm, need you so much” you panted, nodding at him eagerly. His lips enveloped yours in a kiss, groans left the two of you at how the passion was intensified.

Unwillingly, your eyes opened and watched Sunghoon still, who was stroking himself with his eyes burning into you. The way your breasts, your waist, your thighs, all were smeared in sweat, made him feel like he was so close to coming all over the sheets.

Jake had been moving way too fast for your orgasm to have been prolonged any longer, you could hear the sound of his hips snap against yours vigorously accompanied by those beautiful whimpers coming from him. “Oh baby, I’m so close,” he whispered, unable to form any other coherent thought, brows knit together and all.

Biting into his shoulder, you came, a loud scream getting stifled against his skin.

Jake had pulled out and released on your chest, his cum reaching your mouth as well. You stuck your tongue out at that, savouring the taste in your mouth. “So fucking pretty even when you’re a mess,” his voice was soft as he brushed your bottom lip with his thumb.

Jake picked you up, setting you on your knees pulling you in for a deep, messy kiss where your fingers entangled themselves in his hair, both your tongues clashing and making you two even more desperate to be near.

Sunghoon approached from behind, hands wrapping firmly around your waist, with his neck dipping into your neck. Your head rolled back into Hoon’s shoulder — leaving a string of saliva between you and Jake — loving the way he teased with open-mouthed kisses and his cock that brushed up against you. You gasped at the sudden contact.

Sunghoon then penetrated from behind, making your mouth form a big ‘O.’ Jake slipped inside again, letting you ease onto him.

They both moved at the same time, making your eyes flutter at how much you’d been stretched out.

“Oh, shit,” you couldn’t hold back the cries that left you at how both your holes felt abused.

One of your arms had pulled Sunghoon by his neck, the other gripping Jake’s shoulder. You were getting thrusted into with such force, it felt like you’d break in half any moment.

One of Hoon’s hands had a harsh grip on your tits as you tried get used to the feeling of Jake ramming into you at such a relentless pace, and Hoon whose other hand curved around your hips, letting him hit even deeper.

You had been entirely consumed by the feeling of both of them. The screams that left you were now almost let out unconsciously, having a mind of their own.

The three of you had engulfed the room with your moans and groans, the sound of fucking and a bed that was awfully close to breaking.

Sunghoon felt himself grow closer to his high, as did Jake. He growled into your shoulder; Jake whimpered into your mouth.

You felt your body shake as a huge wave of pleasure had hit you, feeling exhaustion start to take over at how well you’d been fucked that night.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Hugo Drama

Hugo Gernsback: hey everyone its me, hugo gernsback Gernsback: editor of Amazing Stories and namesake of the hugo awards Gernsback: perhaps you've heard of them? Clive Barker: oh buddy Barker: buddy Barker: we've heard all about them ha ha

Stephen King: they're named after you? i thought they were named after victor hugo Gernsback: ha ha a common mistake Gernsback: but that's fine Gernsback: i'm not mad at all that victor hugo keeps getting the credit Gernsback: i think its funny Gernsback: in fact i'm laughing

Gernsback: ah yes my precious hugo awards! Gernsback: the most prestigious award in science fiction and fantasy! Gernsback: a place for serious business Gernsback: certainly no room for shenanigans here Gernsback: no room for tomfoolery Gernsback: no room for clownish buffoonery

Gernsback: The Hugo -- an award whose very name rings with integrity & honor!   Gernsback: it is no mere nebula! no paltry clarke! Gernback: the stoker, the howard, the lambda - none can compare! Gernsback: the L Ron hubbard writers of the future award? pah! dust before the hugo!

Gernsback: only the choicest cuts of science fiction and fantasy would ever achieve the lofty hugo award Gernsback: an award forever untainted by shenanigans or hijinks! Gernsback: now to take a big sip of coffee and read this  file 770 report!

Gernsback: what the--?! Gernsback: my beautiful hugos!!! tainted by the foul stench of corruption!!! Clive Barker: yeah boy i bet victor hugo's just sick about it Gernsback: Barker: just sick about what they did to his award Gernsback: Barker: ha ha Poe: clive leave him alone

Gernsback: my hugo!!! you were supposed to be a thing of beauty... not this monstrosity! Dean Koontz: gosh he's so sad about his award Koontz: do you think it would cheer him up if i gave him my nickelodean kids choice award? Poe: i think that would be a very nice gesture dean

Chris M Barkley: [thrusting microphone] Mr gernsback! mr gernsback! a statement for the press? Jason Sanford: [thrusting microphone] how do you respond to the allegations about your award mr gernsback? Gernsback: confound these intrepid newshounds of the 4th estate!

Gernsback: [wiping brow] don't worry, we will be taking measures to fix this Barkley: what are you going to do mr gernsback? Sanford: the people demand an answer mr gernsback! Gernsback: we'll uh Gernsback: we'll nominate an essay called 'Dave McCarty Can Fuck Off Into the Sun'

Gernsback: what a debacle! i cannot believe my good name will now forever be associated with such shady practices! HP Lovecraft: hey when are you gonna pay me for my story you ran? Gernsback: new phone, who dis?

Gernsback: you know who this really hurts? Gernsback: worse than the nominees secretly disqualified for politics? Gernsback: worse than the entirety of Chinese science fiction secretly disqualified for being Chinese? Gernsback: worse than the winners whose awards are now tainted?

Gernsback: the person that this hurts most of all Gernsback: is clearly bitter karella Gernsback: for reasons i can't articulate Gernsback: everyone should immediately go and heap conciliatory praise on bitter karella Gernsback: truly the most wronged person of all

Bitter Karella: [bravely holding back tears] no no it's not about me Bitter Karella: [voice cracking] my only thought is for the hugo community who has been through... so much... Bitter Karella: [stoically gazing into distance] they're the REAL heroes

Gernsback: look how bitter karella keeps a brave face... for our sake! King: god bitter karella is so brave... and so modest! Poe: truly a great goblin Poe: possibly the greatest Koontz: why? what did they do? Poe: dean! show some respect!

[cherryrikis]

LAST LOVERS ON THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN - 003 ! lipstick marks and coffee stains

PAIRING : producer riki x baker fem reader

SYNOPSIS: if it weren't for the two being on that last midnight train together, you would've never met. but when one person is wearing a white shirt while the other is holding a coffee cup without a lid, an accident is bound to happen. another 142 accidents later, and maybe riki would consider being your last love.

authors note - i keep inserting baseball into my works sorry

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“just leave your shoes at the door.” you instructed riki, before allowing him to enter your apartment.

“cool, cool.” he replied with a nod.

you watched as he examined your home, glancing over every last picture frame and decorative throw pillow.

“it’s nice.” riki assured, as if he knew what you’re thinking. “very cozy. small, but cozy nonetheless. this definitely feels like a home.”

“do you.. do you not have a home?” you asked him hesitantly as he took a seat on the couch. “it sounds silly, i know. but the way you said it just had me thinking.”

riki smiled, letting out a soft laugh as he watched you struggle to find an excuse. “sorry, i know i kinda made it seem that way. its not that i don’t have a home, im just never home. most of the time i end up crashing at a friends place, or falling asleep in the studio.”

“this could be your home. i know it’s probably a little far, and even though we just met, you’re welcome anytime.” you comforted him with a small pat on the back. “now let me get that stain out.”

riki was sat on your bed, facing you with his legs crossed as you scrubbed at the stain.

“why are you scrubbing it before you wash it?” he asked curiously.

“pre-treating it. sometimes the washer doesn’t do a good enough job because it can set the stain in more.” you answered, briefly looking up.

you didn’t see it, but you felt and heard his presence slightly drift as riki got up to walk around your room.

he scanned the walls, and noticed a white shirt hanging by the bed. on one side, it had now faint lipstick marks in a small heart.

“what’s this?” riki questioned, pointing to it.

“oh that? it’s, uh.. old valentines gift for an ex. i was never able to give it to him, but it was too cute for me to throw away. so now its mine.” you explained with a shrug. not much too it.

“y/n?” “yeah?”

“can i spend the night? just ‘cause, you know. it’s late, and i’m sure we’re both tired. for the sake of convenience.”

you stared at him with your lips slightly apart, before they curled into a grin.

“what? what’s so funny?” riki pouted.

“of course you can spend the night you dummy. you probably won’t be getting this sweater back until tomorrow by the earliest anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

“i wouldn’t mind if you kept it.” he joked, before walking back to his original seat in front of you. riki watched as you continued scrubbing at the deep brown stain, until it eventually faded to a lighter shade.

“throw this into the washer for me, and you can sleep in my bed. i’ll take the couch.” you pointed your head in the direction of the laundry appliances.

“wait-” he paused. “why would you take the couch? it’s your house. you take the bed.”

“you’re my guest. unless you wanna share the bed?” you raised a brow teasingly, but he knew you were kidding.

“oh shut up, you’re just dying to make me look bad. how ‘bout i just sleep on the floor next to you?” riki pointed to the floor beneath you two.

“okay. but don’t complain if your back is hurting by the morning.” you joked as riki let out an annoyed sigh.

taglist ! @pshbites @r1kification @tasnemluvs @stvrriki @sirens-dreams @heartheejake @t0asterexe @ilovbeshotaro @prettiestgirlontheplanet @yourmyst4r @jiiyen @vixialuvs @ariluvssssss100 @mmurazz @sol3chu @who-tf-soddhi @domfikeluva @blvengene @tinyteezer @anqelkoz @theothernads @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @lanaonlydaughter

[lizajane2]

I was scrolling through TikTok and watched a short edit of a fictional couple saying goodbye. He's begging her to stay—let me repeat that— HE'S the one begging her to stay!

Which led me to watching the first season of Midnight at the Pera Palace. Why had I never heard of it before? I adore that it's set during the 20s; I've always loved that era. But anyway, I've got to vent about the main couple, so this is gonna contain spoilers for those who haven't watched it.

The way Halit looked at Esra from across the room in the first episode, I was gone. I was a complete goner. That look was perfection. It wasn't just awe, it was "I know you. I've known you forever, and I want you, only you." SOMEONE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!

He is madly, passionately, and obsessively in love with her. And it drives me nuts. These two have altered my brain chemistry.

And I know he just killed another man, but the way Halit is holding her, his grip on her hand is even tight like he's desperate to keep her there.

The absolute yearning that is coming from him is so gut-wrenching in the best way possible.

And he said this, when he first met Esra in 1917:

Halit had me kicking my feet, giggling, and squealing like a little girl. Had me falling in love, too, damn. "You were made for me, weren't you?" WHAT?! That is insane behavior, good sir, and yet I melted like butter. And excuse me, but you don't need to look at her like that.

Prime example number 2:

They look at each other like they've been in love for years. And he doesn't even know her name! She never even told him. THEY MAKE ME SICK!!

But this, THIS RIGHT HERE:

For fuck's sake, kill me now!! How he grabs Esra to pull her close, leaving no space between them, is absolutely divine!! And then it gets so much better with his speech:

"I've been waiting for so long to see you again. I can't wait any more. Whoever you are, I don't care. Because the thing is we... we are meant to be with each other. You know it, too. I can see it in your eyes. I need you. And I'll do whatever I can to have you. And I can see that you need me, too. Destiny has brought us together."

I NEED THAT INJECTED INTO MY VEINS, TATTOOED ON MY SKIN!!

The soft caress of her cheek, how he tilts her chin up when he says "I need you. And I'll do whatever I can to have you." See, no, that's not... he's driving me absolutely wild!!

Halit: "But I'm in love with you."

Esra: "But I'm not in love with you."

She's stronger than me, cause girl why the fuck are you lying?!

And it's also insane behavior that Halit followed Esra through time when all he had to hang on to were fleeting moments. He even had a child on the way, but that didn't stop him. Nothing felt right without her. LUCKY FUCKING HER!!

His hand placement here:

IT MAKES ME WEAK IN THE FUCKING KNEES!!

"Don't leave me, then." "No. No. If you leave, my life will not be worth living, my love."

Who chooses to go back to their own time over him?!

Me:

[catcze]

i love reading your works, they make excited to read again

but i was wondering, how do you think wriothesley would be in a royal au where we’re the noble and he’s our bodygaurd?? 👀

!!! THE WAY I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCHAKJSNDKJNASJDNAKSJ

Bodyguard! Wriothesley is quite possibly the best thing that's ever happened to you. He's relaxed— much less uptight and by-the-books as some of the bodyguard that have been with you in the past.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley doesn't try to limit your movements or the activities you do, only under the condition that he either comes with you or that you don't do anything outright life-endangering. You wanna dress up as a regular person and wander around the city? Sure. Just let him know, and he'll even procure the disguises the two of you will use. You want to go for a walk in the woods? As long as you both stick to the safer paths and don't stay out past dark, he doesn't see why not.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley cares for your sake. He lets you indulge in whatever hobbies you like— gardening, embroidering, horseback riding, sword-fighting. Whatever it may be, he accompanies you and just lets you have your fun. He even helps you out sometimes, such as sparring with you, or being the one to hold your books for you as you wander around the library.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley even helps you when it comes to your official duties as a noble. He can't help directly, of course, but he helps you organize your files, sort through the numerous documents on your desk, and even provides some useful input in the fields where he's got some experience. Not to mention, when he's your only company in that lonely lonely office for hours to come, he converses with you during the slower periods of time. He talks about anything under the sun— anything that he thinks you'll find interesting, or that might elicit a smile from you. Be it anecdotes from his own life, stories from his time before being a bodyguard, or even just interesting facts he's learned from a book he's found in the library. If he sees you needing a mental break, he's more than happy to provide.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley who accompanies you in your office in the late evenings, long after you've already dismissed him for the night. The moon could be high overhead, the owls hooting and the fireplace in your office crackling away, and this man will absolutely refuse to leave your side until you're finished. To your face, he tells you that it's out of duty. That a risk to your life could come even this late at night, and that so long as you are vigilant with your duties, so shall he. But a teeny tiny little part of his heart is doing it because he wants to make sure that you're alright, too. That while you burn the midnight oil, there is water in the pitcher by your desk, and fresh slices of fruit in the plate. He wants to make sure that your office is neither too cold nor too hot, and that if you choose to stay up late in the winters where the fireplace cannot keep up with the chill, he is there to offer his own coat is he sees you shivering.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley who has, as a result of you being so committed to your duties and your people, been faced with the dilemma of you falling asleep at your desk more than once. Each time, he's hesitant to wake you from your slumber. If anyone knows how hard you work and how badly you need each second of rest, it is the man who hardly ever leaves your side. So instead, he approaches your dozing form hesitantly, shaking your shoulder just slightly with a gentle touch until you rouse a little.

"Your grace," Wriothesley murmurs, keeping his voice low. "I believe it's time to call it a night."

You say nothing for a few seconds, processing what he's said, but you eventiually nod, letting the smallest of yawns escape you. Wriothesley tries to hide his smile.

Then a thought crosses his mind, and though he hesitates to even offer, he sees you starting to doze off again where you sit, and he can't imagine that to be any good for your back or your neck come morning.

"Would you like me to carry you back to your room, your grace?" He asks softly— so quietly, that if he wasn't this close, you don't think you would have heard it. But you do, in fact, hear him. And while you would normally be rather embarrassed to have your bodyguard carry you anywhere, your sleepiness overrules most thoughts of embarrassment and hesitation. In this state, the most important thing is getting back to your room and getting a proper rest, so you nod.

Wriothesley puts out the fireplace in record time, returning to your barely-awake form swiftly. He easily grabs the keys to your office off your desk and hooks the keyring onto his finger.

"Alright, I'm going to lift you up now, your grace," He murmurs, one hand hooked under your legs, the other circling around your back and cradling you against him securely. You barely stir when he lifts you up, doing little more than humming .

Expertly and making sure not to jostle you, Wriothesley maneuvers you out of the office, making sure to lock it securely behind him. As he begins walking in the direction of your chambers, he can feel you leaning more and more into his hold, your head resting right above his chest. No doubt you're already half-way to dreamland, which he finds incredibly endearing.

"You can sleep for now, your grace. I'll get you back safely." His voice is so soft, like the finest silk. Softer than any of the robes you have in your closet, than the sheets that lay on your bed. You wish you could fall into that softness and slumber for hours and hours.

You lean further into Wriothesley's firm chest, thinking nothing of the way his heart seems to hasten, or how he grows warm under your touch. Sleep creeps forward more and more with each passing second, wrapping you in it's warm tendrils.

Before you completely lose yourself to it though, you manage to whisper a quiet, "Thank you, Wriothesley."

And oh, if his heart doesn't melt right then and there. You asleep in his arms, looking more relaxed than he's ever seen you. Wriothesley adjusts his grip on you slightly, making sure that you're comfortable in his grasp. And if he slows his pace a bit, unwilling to have the walk to your chambers end so quickly, that's just for him to know.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[daydaydayrk420]

maleherm

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x male reader

⚠️hermaphrodite Logan, sexting ⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Squishing sounds fill the room. In moments like these Logan is thankful he lives with y/n instead of the mansion. Why? Because those squishy sounds come from his cunt. He's riding his own fingers like a god in heat. But it's not enough.

It's barely scratching the surface.

"for fucks sake Y/n... Where are you." Logan grunts as his cunt helplessly clenches around his fingers.

Y/n is watching a movie on his phone as the traffic he's stuck in doesn't seem to move. He's bored out of his mind. He doesn't even know what the movie is about. But a certain notification snaps him out of misery.

Wolf sent a picture.

Y/n chuckles and opens it without hesitation. But that chuckle soon dies once he sees the treasure on his screen.

Logans dripping wet cut and hard dick in the same picture. Four fingers knuckle deep but the text only says "Where the fuck are you".

Y/n yet again chuckles and immediately replies. "Stuck in traffic."

"Any chance you'll be back by midnight?" Logan asks without a picture this time. "I'm afraid not." Y/n's eyes keep going back to the picture. He can feel his pants getting tighter.

"But this cunt needs you." Logan sent yet another picture. But this time it shows how open he is. Clearly, he's been busy with his fingers. Y/n groans and rubs his tented pants lazily.

"Your cunt will have to wait" Y/n texted as he slowly undid his pants.

"Look what I found" Logan replied with a following picture of him holding a dildo. Y/n chuckles and immediately gets to typing. "What do you plan on doing with that?" "Pretend it's you and scream your name." Logan sent another picture of him kissing the toy.

"Well, it is me I had it custom made." Y/n pulls himself out and takes a picture to send to Logan.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good." Logan sent a picture of the toy barely inside him. Y/n chuckles and strokes himself as he admires the picture for a bit before responding. "The toy is barely in you Logan and I can practically see your knees quivering."

"You know me so well" This time Logan sends a short video of how his knees are in fact quivering. Y/n chuckles and films himself stroking and sends it to Logan.

He's met with an immediate response, followed by a video of Logan moaning loudly as he bounces on the toy. "Please let me cum."

"Not yet pup"

Logan video calls him too busy to make a video "Please please please please let me cum" his voice is high pitched and his legs are quivering as he collapses onto the bed. Face in the pillows and the dildo deep inside him as he cums. Soft sobs and apologies spill from his lips as he shakes.

"Aw. Poor puppy." Y/n grunts as he speeds his own strokes. "You disobeyed." Logan whimpers in response and rolls his hips wanting to overstimulate himself like his boyfriend would.

"I'll let you pass this time pup." Y/n hummed as he saw Logan moving again. He liked the thought of Logan trying to act out what normally happens when they have fun. Logan whimpers and mumbles out thank yous as he collapses.

y/n is about to cum but the car behind him honks and ruins the mood. He groans in frustration and looks in the review mirror. Then he looks at the road and realises the cars are starting to move.

"alright pup the roads moving. I gotta go okay? Love ya." Logan only whimpered tiredly in response. Y/n chuckles and ends the call. He starts the car and slowly starts driving home.

[chiisana666]

strangers in the night

synopsis: a red-haired captain stumbles into the bar late one night, and out of your bed early the next morning.

warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, shanks x barmaid! Reader, no use of y/n or shanks’ name, yes he has one arm, alcohol consumption, dubcon? (they’re drinking but not trashed), unprotected p in v, brief anal fingering, creampie

wc: 2107

a/n: sorry if this is trash, i have had no motivation to write these past few months. credits for dividers here. hope y'all enjoy <3

“And another for you, sir?” The once-vibrant aura of the bar had long since quelled, mirroring the calm ebs of the bay of which the establishment overlooked. It was half past midnight, and you were multi-tasking between closing duties and entertaining the lingering drunken seamen and women.

The man you were currently occupied with had long since been weaned off alcohol, none the wiser to you substituting the vodka for water; he will thank you in the morning, though. He tosses a couple Berry across the bar top, slurs out a ‘thank you’, and stumbles out into the night. Only one more hour and then you’ll be home, free to tear off the corset that had you cinched for the heavens.

You held out hope that the patrons would disperse sooner rather than later, perhaps you could close a little earlier tonight.

But all faith quickly disappeared, fleeting in rhythm with the hoard of footsteps bounding down the board walk and right to the bar’s doorsteps.

It was a small but rowdy crowd, and a vaguely familiar one too. You had seen a few of their faces before, but never so late and never on such a quiet night. You approach the bunch as they seat themselves at the bar, adorning your best customer service smile despite the evident exhaustion tugging at your eyes.

“Evening,” you start, less chirpy than you typically are, but a sultry undertone remains. You had learned quickly during your time as a bar maid; men are so easy and will lay down all their Berry for you, if you know how to talk to them.

A low whistle rings, courtesy of a man with thick, dreaded lock, and the others do little to hide their satisfaction at the sight of you.

“Good evening, indeed,” Another drawls between puffs of the fat cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. His face and arms are littered in scars and his long gray hair is slicked back from the salty sea air.

They waste not a moment requesting several bottles of sake. As you flitter around scrounging up what remains behind the bar, you can feel a pair of dark eyes training on you.

He is tall, and broad, with a black cloak slung around his shoulders, obscuring his left arm. His crimson hair hangs languidly atop his head and does nothing to hide the three scars carved across his face. He is undoubtedly handsome, definitely higher ranking amongst the many faces you have seen come and go during your time here. In the past, a lucky handful of men and women were blessed to share your bed following a late-night shift. But those were still few and far between, and you could feel a familiar itch start to creep into your core.

They moved to whiskey once they had polished off your remaining supply of sake, and by then you had lost track of time, completely engrossed in their company. You didn’t know their names, didn’t really care to, but they made good conversation.

They rotated in tandem, sharing stories of their adventures in an obvious guise to impress you, the pretty barmaid keeping their glasses full. The red-haired man threw a wink or a lip bite your way whenever your eyes connected. You had seen the desperation that months at sea could bring someone, and typically it was repulsive. But there was something so smooth about this one.

“-until our good ‘ole captain here led us straight into the line of fire!” One of the men howled, slapping the red-haired man across the back so hard that he aspirated on his whiskey, dark eyes bulging from their sockets.

“Captain?” you giggle in genuine surprise. Most of the captains you had come across were egotistical, narcissistic, and made their status known from the moment they enter the establishment. A cheeky smirk tugs at his peachy lips, coupled with another thigh clenching wink. Your heart flutters and you return a coy smile, “I never would have guessed.”

Perhaps it was the liquor, or perhaps you were just that funny, but regardless your quip left the group keeling over in laughter. You tuck a stray hair behind your ear, face flushing you’re your own fits of giggles. You turn to grab an unopened bottle of whiskey, the small clock hanging on the wall behind the bar catching your eye. You gasp, noticing it was almost 3AM; you should have closed an hour ago!

“I’m sorry boys,” you turn back, whiskey bottle in hand and offering an apologetic smile, “But you’ll have to take this one for the road.”

The men groaned in protest, but understood when you nodded towards the clock. The captain plopped a fat pouch full of Berry of the bar, watching as his men filtered while you began collecting their glasses.

A throat cleared from behind, startling you, “Mind if I give you a hand, darling?” He was already bringing over the other glasses left on tables by previous patrons.

“Oh, that is very kind of you Captain but-“

“Please allow me, you must be eager to get home.” And who were you to argue? Although you had enjoyed the time spent with his crew, he was absolutely correct. So you both work silently, him wiping tables and sweeping the floor while you wash and dry all the dirty dishes and refresh the bar for the when it opens again later that day, thankful to be off for the next few days.

He insisted on walking you home, tension blooming with every brush of his right arm against your left, every bump of your hip against his. The dim streetlamps perfectly illuminated your figure, and he could not help but stare, entranced by your beauty. In all his time at sea, with all the women he had crossed paths with, none of them measured to you. None made him feel so weak with a simple smile.

An unusual pang of sadness struck him when you turn down the boardwalk, now in a residential area of your small seaside town, his heart growing heavier as you approach your quaint cottage. For some odd reason, he was dreading this goodbye, dreading to already part with the beautiful stranger he happened to stumble upon in the bar that night.

So he could have not been quicker to blurt out a “yes!” when you invited him in for one more drink.

And one drink turned to two, three, four, any hint of reservation dissipating as the alcohol coursed through your veins and warmed your body. You’re overcome by a new-found boldness, and perhaps that is how you end up straddling the captain, arms lazily slung around his shoulders, fingers curling into crimson hair, lips meshing in sloppy, wet kisses, hips dragging across his.

His toned hand paws at your hip, bunching up the fabrics of your skirts so that your panty-clad cunt can grind against the bulge of his cotton trousers. Deep groans spill from his mouth into yours, tongues prodding at one-another in an intimate wrestle.

A hand awkwardly tugs at the laces of your corset; a string of saliva droops from your lips as you pull away from him, making quick work to undo the garment, moaning at the relief, and carelessly tossing it across the small living area. He follows suit, unsnapping the buttons of his white shirt so it can slip off his shoulders, his black cloak having long since been discarded. Your eyes flicker to the stump of his left arm, a small gasp escaping, absentmindedly reaching to run your fingers over the scarred skin.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart,” he mumbles between sloppy kisses to your neck, “is just an arm, m’dick still works perfectly well.”

His lips meet yours again, a twinge of yearning persisting with each wet smack. Your hands trace up and down his bare chest, committing to memory the dips and curves of his impressive abs. He tugs at your thin chemise, pulling it over your head, exposing your pretty tits.

A giggle escapes you as his eyes widen at the sight of your breasts but is stifled by a moan when he takes one nipple in his mouth, expertly circling and flicking at your sensitive bud with his soft tongue, spurring you to grind your wet panties harder onto his groin, undoubtedly leaving a damp spot of his trousers.

Your face down, tits squished into your plush bedding and ass in the air as he ferociously pounds into your weeping cunt. His fat balls smack against your swollen clit with each thrust, obscene squelches echoing off the walls.

Your moans muffle into the pillows, his penetrating the air, shameless groans of oh baby… ohhh fuck… s-so fu-uckin’ good…

A loud smack and a piercing sting of your ass cheek sends shockwaves straight to your core, causing your pussy to clench and spasm around his cock. But it is followed by a soothing rub, kneading your round cheek like dough, and spreading it wide to see your pretty puckered hole.

“Eeeek!” You screech, instinctively pulling away when you feel a fat glob of spit land right on your hole; and he chuckles, thumb circling his saliva around, his brutal thrusts never relenting.

“Easy love, relax f’me…” A few gentle prods and he slips his thick thumb in, easing down the knuckle, massaging your walls; your seeing stars and your trembling thighs about give out beneath you, hips bucking in an uncontrollable convulsion.

“Shit baby… don’t run from me,” he groans, popping his thumb out of your tight asshole and pulling your hips still, the mushroom tip of his cock bullying your cervix. You can feel it coming, toes curling, cunt clenching, eyes rolling as he drives you further up to the crest. And if the wavering of his once steady pace is any indication, he is nearing too.

Your crimson-haired lover falls atop you, sweaty chest molding into the curve of your back, arm reaching under and around your neck, large hand caressing your jaw to turn your head. Puffy lips find yours as his hips falter, fucking into you like a mindless wanton manwhore. His hand reaches down to your mound, ferociously rubbing your sensitive bud.

“Ohhh f-fuckk, right th-there!” You moan into his kisses, pushing your hips back into his, sinking his cock impossibly deeper.

“Yeah? That good darlin’? Mmm,” he pants into your ear with hot breath, dragging his tongue across your cheek and sucking on your sweet lips, “So fuckin’ perfect, fuckin’ obsessed with this pussy.”

The coil in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter with each thrust, each rub of his fingers to your clit, each kiss of his lips, before finally snapping, a screech of ecstasy tumbling from your lips. White-hot heat electrifies your body, fisting the sheets tightly as your eyes roll back and cunt spasms around his dick, sucking him in with violent pulses. You lose yourself as waves of euphoria wash across you, trembling wholly, sending your lover over the edge. His thick cum fills your needy pussy in fat spurts, haphazard thrusts plunging it deeper into your womb before mercifully slowing, slowing, stopping.

You lay there for a moment, finding your ground in reality while the man atop you grows heavier, less conscious of his weight bearing down on you. His hand gently strokes your belly, soft kisses pressing to your shoulder and neck while he too chases his breath.

Eventually, he pulls his softened cock from your achy cunt with a hiss, rolling off and plopping onto the bed next to you. You stretch your legs out behind you with a groan, fully relaxing onto your stomach. A soothing hand reaches over to rub your back, and you finally open your eyes to meet his, vision still slightly blurred. He greets you with a content smile, one you return when he leans over to kiss you once more, far more sensually than before.

“Alright, love?”

“Mm,” the only response you can elicit as you’re overcome by drowsiness, but it is enough for him. You curl into him, feeling a final press of his lips to your forehead before succumbing to sleep.

You are not surprised to wake up to an empty bed, although a part of you hoped he would have stayed. Another part hoped it was just a dream, that the strange yearning for the red-haired captain that your heart and body are overcome by is nothing more than a fabrication of your mind.

Until you see it, a small, torn piece of parchment on your nightstand:

I’ll be back someday.

            -Shanks

[koyagifs]

𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

pairing: san x reader au: ceo | arrange marriage genre: angst word count: 917 words summary: Under the facade of being the perfect couple for the world, your relationship with San is hanging by a thread that finally snapped at his promotion party. warning(s): mentions of cheating, swearing and alcohol part 1 | part 2 | part 3

"San are you ready? we have less then an hour to arrive before they start to question where we're at." You said, exciting the bathroom as you put your earrings in.

San rolled his eyes, sitting down the leather couch with a cup of whiskey in one hand and the other messaging his mistress. You weren't dumb, you knew exactly when the affair started it's why you demand San to wear condoms when we "makes love" to you.

You entered the living room seeing him there, a smirk on his face before it was replaced an angered face. " about fucking time" he mumbled.

You tsk, grabbing your purse before you left the building leaving him behind. Drowning the drink in his hand, he followed behind shortly afterwards. The drive to his promotion party was as usual silent, his phone screen being lit up every few minutes with what you assume to be his mistress once again demanding his attention.

" tell her to leave you alone for a few fucking hours. She's acting like a dog in heat." You huffed out.

" shut up yn, clearly she loves me very much to actually try and keep my attention."

Your jaw tighten as you glared at him as he finally shuts his phone off. The car came to a halt and the cameras began to flash. Wiping your tears away, you wrapped your hand around his jaw and pulled him closer to you. He hissed in pain as your nails dug into his skin.

" we're going to act like a nice and lovely couple for this party, then you can go to your whores house and do whatever you want. I don't care anymore Choi San but for fucks sake for your parents and mine do not screw this up."

Pushing him away, he left the car and opened your car door and placed his fake and loving face for the cameras that awaited for you and San. Taking his hand, you exited the car a fake smile on your face. Placing a kiss on his cheek as the the two of you walked towards the building. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you both enter the elevator. San took a look at the markings on his face before he pinned you to the wall.

"jealously is not a good look on you, wife" He spoke, grabbing your chin just you had in the car.

You glared at him, staying silent as he continued on. " next time, lets refrain from calling her a whore hm? At least she cares for me"

You rolled your eyes as you shoved him away from you. " cares for you? I'm not having this conversation with you dear husband"

" see, this is exactly what im talking about! You continue to push me away "

"san "

"no we will be having this -"

" san shut the fuck up and turn around" You said harshly with a smile on your face before you turned San around, facing the crowd that didn't noticed the two of you bickering. San was quick to recover, putting his hand around your waist, guiding you towards his group of friends. As they said their hellos, San was quick to leave you.

" youre lucky no one noticed you two. It looked kinda heated for a second." Mingi said, handing you glass of champagne.

Taking the glass as you mumbled a thanks before you chugged it. "you're not going home with him are you?"

Your eyes followed him as he made his rounds, greeting everyone with his real smile. The real smile that you fell in love with. A hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality as you turned around to Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

" he was fast to leave you love," Hongjoong said, a smirk tugging on his lips.

" not fast enough. I can't wait for this night to be over" you mumbled, grabbing another glass of champagne.

──･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.────

Nearing midnight, you lost sight of San when Hongjoong continued talking to you, trying his best to ease your mind. You excused yourself, promising him you'll be back as you went to look for San. Turning down the hallway there was your husband, making out with his mistress. You scoffed, took the remaining liquid in your drink before you marched down to them. You knew you were drunk but the anger inside you continued to fume.

" how touching" You said, causing the two to jump away from each other.

She began to stutter as San remained calmed, zipping his pants back up. You began to grow irritated at her attempts to explain herself, "just shut the fuck up. please."

" San if you don't tell our lovely guests that we will be making our leaves so your absences isn't question"

San continued to glare at you as he whispered into his mistress ear. She excused herself, making her way towards the elevators. Tears stung your eyes once she was gone from your frame. Chest heaving as you tried your best to look presentable but you just couldn't. When San reappeared, Hongjoong was right behind him following him closely. San gripped your arms, tugged you close to him as you let out a cry of pain.

" god, i fucking despise you" He said, anger laced in his face.

You giggled, tears falling down as you looked up at him. "ditto"

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Ties✨

Vampire! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Masterlist Part 2

A/N: I was listening to “I’m Not A Vampire (Revamped)” by Falling In Reverse, and this angsty one shot just slipped inside the keyboard. I love love love writing in Joel’s POV, especially when it is filled with angst 🩵

Summary: Joel was a creature of the night, a monster who begged to be released from his curse. He wasn’t a good man, didn’t think he deserved anything that shined light on his dark soul. But there was you, the girl he so desperately wanted to stick around, if only for one more night.

“And whiskey seems to be my holy water. And mothers better lock your doors, and hide your daughters. ‘Cause I'm insane, I can feel it in my bones.Coursing through my veins. When did I become so cold? For goodness sakes, where is my self control?If home is where my heart is then my heart has lost all hope.”

-“I’m Not a Vampire” by Falling In Reverse

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only MDNI)

Tags: Angst, fic in Joel’s POV, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, feelings, pining, smut, oral receiving (female), unprotected p in v, creampie, vampire! Joel, outbreak AU

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  Another night of lying on the cold floor, another full bottle of amber whiskey chugged and thrown to the ground, glass littering the dirt covered wood, blood staining the blue flannel that’s wrapped around his tired body. He’s worn out, exhausted from the endless feedings, the mind numbing displeasure of having to drink the blood of the living again and again and again. 

   Wild animals could only tie him over for so long, humans were the only things that remotely silenced his cravings. But you. Well, you’d be the only thing that kept the unrelenting hunger from ever dissolving from his dead body. 

   You. The woman he could never truly have. You were a fragile particle of sunlight in his midnight clouded black nights. You were… exquisite, something he never should’ve lured into his lonely, monstrous life. 

   How many times has he had you? Over a dozen, each time risking your life with how dangerously delicious your blood smelled to him when you writhed beneath his naked body, the silhouette of your sensuous curves and delicate skin glowing under the moonlit skies. 

   He always came so close to nipping at your neck, biting into your sweet flesh each time his fingers were curled up into the soft walls of your dripping core, your melodic moans filling the room with every stroke of his thick cock inside you, each quake you gave from him running the blood soaked lips down your soft skin, begging to be let in, to taste the perfect rush of blood that coursed through your supple breasts. 

   It’d take just one bite and he’d be gone, not able to detach himself from your glistening skin, getting blood drunk off your crimson red life beneath your muscles. He can see it now, ripping the flesh from your perfect neck, nails digging into the meat of your skin, so fucking gone that he’d turn into the blood thirsty monster that he was, that he is. 

   Maybe he should end it, drive a wooden stake through his own non-beating heart, stop the endless cycle of whatever the two of you keep doing with each other. 

   He wants to end it, needs to keep you away, but he can’t. He has no strength, no ounce of restraint from you. So he lures you back into his king sized bed that’s donned in crimson red velvet sheets, the one where he fucks you relentlessly until you have nothing left to give but your own shaking breath that blows down the dip of his neck night after night. 

   He holds you tight in his arms, watching you slip from his grasp while you fall asleep on his broad chest, soft breaths breathing in and out after he takes control of your whole body against the damp sheets that are filled with the smell of you. 

   He almost can’t stand it. The smell of your rose scented hair, the feel of your buttery soft skin against his jagged nails, the taste of your sweet, drenched pussy as his tongue parts your folds and laps up the sticky slick that he gets so drunk off. The taste burns against his tongue, even hours after he’s finished, making his cravings deepen with every flick and taste of you on his lips. 

   He fights the monster that begs to be released when he’s clawing at your back, his sharp fangs hidden from view when his lips glide down your neck, sucking the taste of your syrupy skin, drowning in the smell of your rosemary perfume, fighting himself to not sink his sharp incisors deep into your jugular veins. 

   He distracts himself when he’s slotting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your pretty little moans that slip out of you each time he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper into your core, eliciting the most insatiable moans that he will never tire of hearing. He feeds into your desires, caging you against his broad chest, flexed arms hugging your body, making you cum time and time again until he’s right on the edge himself, throwing back his tousled curled head, extracting his fangs as the blood rushes through his cock, threading his eyebrows together in a tight line until he’s calling your name and spilling warm ropes of cum deep inside you, claiming you as his own.

   He always feels the guilt after watching you sleep in his arms night after bloody night, his eyes never leaving your pretty face, his hand stroking light circles into your delicate skin. He hates it, hates having to leave you before the sun rises. All so he can go hide in the dark shadows where the blazing sun won’t burn him alive.

   He fights himself day after day, tormenting his mind from holding back what he really wants to say to you. He wants to tell you. God, he wants to. The way he never stops thinking about you, the way your hand fits perfectly into his calloused palm, the way he can’t ever shake the way you feel beneath his skin, the way he loves the way your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as the white curtains blow against your flawless face. The way he…. loves you, even though he shouldn’t because he’s a monster. A fucking blood sucking demon that should be dragged to hell where he belongs. At least there you wouldn’t be able to reach him, even though it kills him to think about losing you.

   He sits in a heap on the cold floor, clawing at the fraying wallpaper, tears staining his eyes as the crimson blood soaks through his blue flannel. He couldn’t hold it any longer, his thirst for blood. He had to feed. Another deer wouldn’t do. He smelled the stench of fresh blood and pulsing veins in the forest, attacked with his sharp fangs before they even knew what hit them. He didn’t stop. Not when they screamed, not when they fought with white knuckles and strained cries that were silenced by the weight of his fangs that were sunk deep in the unknown stranger in the middle of the night. 

   He sucked them dry, hollowing out their bleeding body while he bathed in the delectable crimson that stained his clothes dark red. He didn’t care at the moment, was too drunk on the blood to even realize what he did, until it was too late. 

   When he was finished feasting he stumbled back, wiping his bloody mouth on the back of his hand, dark eyes growing wide with every step taken after breaking the spell of the hunger that drove him to this. He gasped at the sight, violent red staining the dirt crimson, mind twisting into sheer horror from what he did. This wasn’t the first time, wasn’t even the second time, but it never got easier to realize just how monstrous he had become over the years. 

   He ran all the way back to his empty home, tears spilling down his dark eyes, muffled cries for help fleeting from his lips, but who exactly was listening? He was alone, forgotten, a broken monster that sunk his sharp incisors into the world, spilling bloodshed all around whatever he touched. That’s why he was so afraid for you, his perfect girl, the one he could never truly make his. He was afraid, so scared of hurting you one of these nights. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen. He’d surely kill himself before he killed you, though. Not his precious rose, your soft petals cushioning the blow of his fucked up life. You were never supposed to enter into his life, but you did. And god, he loved you so fucking much that it hurt. 

   The smell of fresh blood is everywhere, covering his flannel, his hands, his chin, even the tips of his grey threaded dark locks. His body shakes beneath him, anger and turmoil crashing over his system until he buries his face into the corner of the wall and hides his hideous face from the world. He’s a monster, nothing more and nothing less, only a mere speck of dust in the corner of the room that begs to be taken away from the darkness that encapsulates him.

   His blood stained lips quiver, thinking that could’ve been you in the forest. He could’ve fucking ripped your throat apart until you were nothing but a ghost left in the dirt, fangs tearing you apart until your gorgeous eyes shined no more.

   He claws at the wall, warm tears pricking the backs of his eyes as he bares his teeth, body clinging against the wall until he feels like he could split it in two. His body is so cold, lifeless, haunted by the cries of fallen victims and innocent bloodshed spilled. He should get up, run far away, somewhere you’ll never find him again. But that might kill him more than anything, leaving you without one last goodbye. 

   He clenches his jaw and lets a fresh tear slide against the side of his dark beard, body barely holding on to life while he clings to the memory of your sunlit face, your pure essence, your soft, lilty voice that haunts his sleepless nights. He’s so in love with you that it physically hurts, but he could never tell you. Never bear to burden you with those words, those goddamned three words that haunt him day after day. 

   He’s just a worthless, blood shedding monster, but you’re the only one that knows how to tame the fangs. The only one that can remotely cure him of the sickness that invades his eternal body. You were pure sunlight, and he couldn’t even begin to describe how much you meant to him. His sunflower in the bed of nightshade that made up his body. You were eternal sunlight, so how could he turn away from that?

   He gets lost in his thoughts, doesn’t even notice the creaking footsteps against the hardwood floor until he hears the whisper of your shaking breath. 

   “Joel?” you call, voice quaking against the sight of the blood doused flannel. 

   He freezes, not daring to turn around when he’s a mess on the floor, eyes averted from your wandering gaze. “Go away,” he shivers, his voice rugged and broken, just like his tired body is from the loss of the life he stole.

   “Joel,” you try again, taking one timid step in his direction.

   He clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into the crimson stains in his dark jeans as he fights another sharp response. “I said go away.”

   He smells the fear on you when you see the dark red stains that coat the front of his flannel, cringes at the repulsing feelings that must be flying through your head right now. You’ve never seen him like this, right after a fresh attack, the blood clinging to ever fiber of his clothes. It kills him, it fucking kills him. 

   “No,” you whisper, taking another slow step in his direction, your breath faltering with every motion you take.

   He cringes with every step you take, having you so close in such a vulnerable state. He can’t fucking take it.

   He shouldn’t have ever pulled you into the reins of his hands, should never have lured you into his bed chambers. You’re too good, too delicate, too soft. One taste, that’s all it took to keep you coming back for more. It was almost resentful how he was so selfish to keep you, even though he never intended to. You were too special, a rare rose in a sea of thorns that made up his life, but you stayed. You stayed. And he’ll never understand why a rare flower like you would stay for him. A monster that only shreds and devours pretty flowers. 

   “Why won’t you ever fuckin’ listen? Jus’… go.” His voice is defeated, gravelly tone breaking on the last syllable as he hangs his head low, across the stained shirt that reminds him of what he did. 

   “Because. I… I don’t want to leave,” you mutter, your voice catching on your shuttering lips. “You need me. You need…”

   He growls in your direction, turning his body so you can see just what kind of monster he really is, scowling your way as his eyes darken to black pits. “This is what you need?! A killer of the night? Look at me, I’m a goddamned monster! I KILLED someone tonight, I MURDERED ‘em in cold blood because I couldn’t control myself!” 

   You look taken aback, eyes wide and teary as he snarls up at you, demanding with his big teeth that you turn and leave, run away so you won’t have to look at the blood that covers him and marks him a murderer.

   You just stand there unmoving, waiting for god knows what. And that makes him angry, so fucking angry that you won’t listen to a goddamn thing he says. “Well! What’re you standin’ there for? I said LEAVE!” His words come out pained, tears licking the corners of his saddened eyes while you just stand there speechless staring at the man that could never keep you safe, not really. 

   “Joel,” you whisper, words failing you as a tear streaks down your crimson cheeks. It makes him cover his head, hide his face from the girl he can’t stand to show himself to at this moment in time. He’s broken, so fucking broken, and not even you could take away every sliver of pain he’s felt in all his worthless years. He regrets ever bringing you here, drawing you in till you didn’t want to leave. 

   “Jus’… stop. I’m not good for you, I never was. I’m jus’ a monster. A goddamned bloodsucking vampire. Now jus’ go. Please…” he begs, hiding his face in the shadows while you stand there in a puddle of sorrow. 

   You inch closer, tip-toeing the floorboards until you’re crouched down beside him, pulling on his blood stained flannel, begging him to just look at you. “Joel, please. Look at me.”

   He shakes his messy mane, trying to pull himself away, but you thread your fingers through his greying scruff and turn his head towards you. He fights your touch, finally giving up when your soft fingers dig into his soiled shirt, one hand delicately skimming the side of his jaw, your thumb rubbing off the blood that stains along his tainted lips. 

   He watches you quietly brush away a teardrop that escapes his watery eyes, mesmerized by how soft you are with him, even in the rough shape he is, after he just murdered someone in cold blood. 

   He can’t take it, the guilt that eats him alive. So he breaks, shedding another tear while you so gracefully wipe it away with the flick of your finger. “I killed someone tonight, I did that. I…”

   You silence him, quietly shushing him while he bites back another whimper. “It was an accident, only an accident,” you reply softly, no taste of bitterness or fear in your voice, only something that’s so you. Soft, you’re so soft, so lovely, something that he never deserved. Not after all he’s done, after all he’s killed.

   He tries to pull away, tries anything to get you to pry your fingers from his button-up, but you don’t. You just stay right there, coiled around him while you smooth a tousled lock of hair back in place, eyes never leaving his.

   “I’m a monster. I watched them die, I didn’t stop, I didn’t have the will to. I jus’ drained them. And that could’ve been you. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if…”

   “Shhh,” you say soothingly, fingers dancing down his greying scruff, glistening eyes reflecting that he’s okay. He’s home, safe in the shadows, safe with you. “It wasn’t me, Joel. It was just an accident. You didn’t mean it. It’s alright now. I’m here.”

   Something in your soft words soothes him like a distant lullaby, calming his fears, but eliciting more tears from his wide eyes, staring at the girl that started a fire in his dead heart long ago, revealing a way to get his heart pumping just by looking at your beautiful smile, your kind soul, your very essence.

   Something breaks in him when you flick your eyes over his bloody clothes and don’t even cringe, only giving him those soft puppy eyes that he can never say no to. He crumbles into your arms, pulling you flush against his chest as he cries into the crook of your neck. He feels your fingers comb through his hair, the other clinging to your back as it draws lazy circles up and down his spine. 

   He can’t hold it in any longer. It slips from his tongue, an elation of words that he never thought he’d ever say again. “I love you…”

   You sigh into his broad chest, lips brushing against the fading material as you muster up the words you too had been holding back. “I love you too, Joel Miller. I have for quite some time…”

   He brings his head up and cups the sides of your face, his dark eyes brightening by the swell of your teary eyes, your sweet smile curling up towards him, pure love screaming from the pits of your beautiful irises. He wastes no time and crashes his lips down on yours, fusing his lips to yours like a sworn oath. You melt into his chest, circling your arms around his neck while you slot your lips and allow him to enter. He licks slowly into your mouth, tongue finding yours while they dance together in unison, bodies entwining until you're pressed beneath him on the sheets, completely naked while you toss and turn in the massive bed. 

   He marks his way down your body, caressing your supple breasts, splaying your legs open for him to lick and suck you dry, tongue pressing meticulous circles over your aching clit until he gets you right where he needs you to be. You spill, covering his tongue in your sticky slick while he laps you up and drinks you down feverishly. He drowns in your sweet taste, swears nothing has ever tasted better than being between your legs. He could make you cum all night long, hearing your pretty moans fill his ears while he takes it all from you, leaving you with pure ecstasy running through your sweet veins. 

   When he’s finished tasting you he takes you slow, sliding his cock between your slick folds while he gently bottoms out inside of you. He takes his time and rocks back and forth, swallowing your moans as he kisses you deeply, sensually. He doesn’t stop either, not even when you’re right at your next release.

   “Joel,” you moan, body writhing beneath him while your walls squeeze his thick length, causing him to groan over you.

   “Attagirl. That’s it, my love. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he praises while he ruts deeper inside you, chasing his own release which doesn’t take him long. He throws his head back, knits his eyebrows together and calls your name, spilling his hot cum inside you just how you like it.

   He slips out of you, crashing down on the opposite side of the bed while he pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head softly while his fingers trace circles over the back of your shoulder soothingly.

   He’s quiet for a minute, reminiscing on everything that happened tonight. The way you chose to stay. For him, you did it all for him. 

   He whispers, a ghost of a breath lingering over the shell of your ear. “You stayed… you weren’t afraid?” he asks nervously, biting his bottom lip while he waits for you to answer. 

   You nuzzle deeper into the side of his neck and murmur sweet words against his jawline. “No, Joel. I was only afraid of losing you. I was never afraid of you. Not even when you showed me your fangs. I guess I just saw past all that. I saw a man that was dying to be seen, to be heard, to be known. You were so… lonely. And I just couldn’t bear to leave you alone. You’re not a monster to me, Joel. You’re the man I fell in love with. You’re mine. Just as I am yours,” you whisper, settling closer into the side of his chest.

   “Mine…” he repeats breathlessly, eyes locked on the beauty that never ran away. You’re his. His.

   “Mhm. Yours…”

    A few seconds later you’re out cold, face nuzzled into the scruff of his beard, one arm slung around his broad chest. He lies there staring at you, running his calloused fingers up and down your back, gently carding them through your beautiful locks. He stares wide-eyed, a tear falling from the side of his eye as he looks at the beauty that saved him from slipping away into the shadows forever.

   He’s got you, forever, as long as you’ll stay with him. He hopes it’ll be for eternity.

   All he’s ever wanted was someone to stay by choice, all these years waiting for nothing to happen. But then there was you. You who chose to stay. You stayed, and that’s all he ever wanted. 

   You. The love of his life that chose him when no one else would’ve. Love. He’s so in love. Maybe he’s not all teeth and darkness anymore, maybe he’s more. You made him more. The moonlight that lights the way out of the darkness forever. His guiding light home.

Tagging some mutuals 🩵 @msjarvis @alltheirdamn @mountainsandmayhem @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69

@yxtkiwiyxt @magpiepills @jasminedragoon @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@survivingandenduring

[gabgabwrites]

DAMN THE RACE | Tommy Shelby

Summary ⇝ you had blindly agreed to fake date the Thomas Shelby as a crime boss yourself, for his image and your reliability, only for you to find yourself becoming dangerously attracted to the man, and things escalate at the derby!

Warnings ⇝ cussing, smoking, drinking, smut, p in v, oral (M), unprotected sex, fake dating trope, guns, kissing. mdni

A business deal was not supposed to go like this. You, one of the very few female gang leaders had agreed on a business deal, for your sake.

It was simple. The man before you, in your office was going over the terms. Fumes of smoke brushing his sharp features, blue eyes never leaving yours. The terms were; only show affection in public, some display of affection is allowed, let the other know when comfortable—you agreed to a deal where you had to fake date the Thomas Shelby, so it looked like he had found his other, and for you it meant having the Peaky Blinders in your back pocket if needed.

So it started from the day after, you showing up at the Garrison Pub, where he'd meet you. The two of you would go to his private booth for a drink leaving onlookers to whisper about this woman who was allowed into his private corner of the pub.

That went on for a week. Then it was dinner dates at lovely restaurants, Tommy was never short of a gentleman, always pulling a chair out for you and offering to pay for the meals. On your fourth date, Tommy had announced it those who needed to know, he had a partner, you.

Word spread on the street like the Bubonic plague, Thomas Shelby has a lady, and she runs a small gang herself. Before you weren't that well known but now? You were almost as famous as Chaplin himself.

However, on your sixth or seventh date, something between you two had dramatically shifted. Your eyes would stare at each other a little longer than usual, the touches would linger, and the words became braver.

You didn't know how much longer you were supposed to pretend. Then, your—maybe tenth 'date' was this coming Sunday, at the Oxford derby races. It was a bit of a drive.

You say in the black car, toying with the hem of your red dress that had streaks brushing your knees. It was a bold colour, but Tommy needed you to stand out. Speaking of, he was say right next to you, he smelt like spice, an alluring scent that gave you a blush to your cheeks. You liked it when a man smelt good.

He wore a dark grey suit, and the infamous newsboy cap on his head. His cold hand had found yours as a squeeze. There was no need for him to hold your hand in the privacy of the car, yet he did. The car pulled up and you two scurried off, still hand in hand.

Tommy had found a good spot for the two of you, and a guarantee that the other Peaky's were just a few rows away from you, just to keep an eye. The stadium quickly filled up with others. "Who do you place your bets on?" You turned to ask Tommy who was pulling out a cigarette from his tin.

He wet his lips before speaking. "Midnight Earl," His finger flicked at the dark brown horse, whose jockey wore green. "Seems like a fine horse, wouldn't you say?" His blue eyes pierced down at you, waiting for your answer.

"I personally think Wavering Monarch," you smiled up at Tommy who raised an eyebrow, pulling out his box of lighters and striking a match. "His coat is the shiniest, so must mean his healthy."

"That or he's lathered in oil," Tommy spoke, cigarette bouncing on his lip as he lit it, inhaling the smoke.

The jockeys pulled their horses to their marker stands. A cherub man stood to the sidelines, lifting a hand to the air, before squeezing the show gun. The flaps of the stand doors threw open before the horses ripped through. Galloping, head bobbing and Mamés whipping in the wind.

They were eventually on their final lap, though you weren't looking. You found the man next to you far more interesting. His jaw clenched in anticipation as he watched the horses. Cigarette now almost gone, his eyes have never been more brighter.

"You're staring, darling." Darling, a nickname he'd given you, along with many others. It sent a flutter to your chest. His eyes tore away from the scene in front of him and gazed at you.

"Right," you mutter, turning to look at the horses. You blew air out from your mouth trying to push intrusive thoughts away. This is all business, you remind yourself.

He called your name, you turned to look. All words you were about to say died on your tongue as his forefinger found the tip of your chin, making you look at him, his hand then slowly ran along your jaw where he found haven on the spot where you're jaw met your neck. "Tell me to stop."

"What?" You gasped when he brought his face so close you could smell the smoke that lingered on his lips, you could count every freckle and crease on his face.

"I'm only human," He whispered. "So please, tell me to stop." And then, his lips were on yours. It was soft and delicate, he was just testing the waters, but when you lifted your chin to melt into his kiss, he could not hold back the soft groan that rippled from his throat.

Both his hands went to your face while yours went to his. Tommy's tongue had just brushed your lips when you tore yourself from his touch. "The races..." you mumbled.

"Damn the race," he growls, his voice thick with desire and urgency. "All that matters right now is this." He emphasizes his words with a burning kiss, his lips molding against yours in a passionate and possessive display of need.

It was clear you weren't the only one growing needy all this time.

The ache in your lips grows with each moment, their sensitivity heightened by the fervent intensity of the kiss. You were eventually saturated by the all-consuming passion of this moment. Tommy responds to your unspoken need, his kisses growing more insistent, his teeth gently nibbling at your lower lip as he explores the depths of your mouth

Your fingers entwine with each other around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape, your chest pushed up against his, an involuntary groan escapes his lips, a low rumble of pleasure that vibrates in his chest. The touch of your hand in his hair sends sparks of desire racing through him, driving him to deepen the kiss even further.

As the kiss deepens, Tommy's hands slip down to the small of your back, drawing you even closer. His touch is strong yet gentle, his fingertips grazing over the fabric of your dress, the heat of his skin seeping through. You feel the world spin around you, lost in the overwhelming sensations of his mouth and hands on you. The race and the crowd have faded completely from thought, replaced by the intoxicating connection between you and Tommy.

The sudden cheer from the crowd jolts you back to reality, the sound piercing through the intimate bubble you and Tommy have created. He lifts his head, a very small amused smile playing on his lips as he looks at you panting and flushed with desire. As the applause and cheering fade into the background, Tommy's grip on you remains firm, his eyes never straying from yours.

When you catch your breath, your lips flushed and slightly swollen from the passionate kiss, Tommy's gaze lingers on your face. His eyes roam over the evidence of their desire, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in their depths. He gently lifts a hand and brushes his thumb over your lower lip, feeling the warmth and sensitivity of your kiss-soaked skin.

Your lips gently kiss the tip of his thumb, in a sweet gesture, Tommy's expression softens slightly, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usually guarded demeanor. He gazes at you for a moment, his thumb still gently resting against the plushness of your lips. A tender moment of connection is shared between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected emotions that have just been unleashed.

You break the silence first. "Midnight Reigns won," a horse none of you betted on.

Tommy glances over his shoulder, his gaze flickering towards the winners circle. A flicker of surprise dances across his face, as if he momentarily forgot about the ongoing race. He lets out a low chuckle, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Aye, suppose he did," he agrees, his voice laced with mirth. "Seems like we were too preoccupied to notice."

With a knowing glint in his eyes, Tommy turns back to look at you, his expression still holding a hint of amusement. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender yet possessive. "But if it meant kissing you like that again, I'd gladly miss another race," he says, his voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes shoot back to his. "You can't be saying stuff like this," You mumble, looking down to hide your blush, your eyes darting away from his.

Tommy lets out an almost missable chuckle, a sound that's both amused and affectionate. He reaches out and gently tilted your chin up with his fingers, a tender gesture that coaxes you to meet his gaze again. "Why can't I?" he asks in a low murmur, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm just speaking the truth, love."

"Always the charmer... yet again." You huff.

A grin spreads across Tommy's face, something that completely caught you off guard. His eyes shining with mirth.

"You're too perceptive, love," he chuckles, his tone teasing but full of warmth. He takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I can't help it if you bring out the charm in me," he adds, his blue eyes filled with earnest affection. The crowd around you begins to thin as the race comes to an end. People start to move away, their attention drawn to other things. Tommy looks around, noticing the shift in the atmosphere. He turns his gaze back to you, a flicker of concern dancing in his eyes. He glances down at your intertwined hands, then back up to meet your gaze. "We should get going, love. We can't stay here forever." His voice holds a note of reluctance, as if he wishes to stay in this moment with you a little longer.

As you and Tommy make your way out of the race track, the night air feels refreshing on your flushed cheeks. He keeps your hand in his, his grip firm yet tender as he leads you away from the noise and commotion. A silence descends between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps on the pavement. There's a palpable tension, an unspoken question lingering in the air, as if the moment you shared is demanding to be acknowledged further.

When you and Tommy arrive at your house, he halts, his brow furrowing somewhat. His gaze lingers on your front door, his mind seemingly preoccupied with something. After a moment, he turns to look at you, his expression a mix of contemplation and hesitation. "Do you..." he begins, his voice trailing off as if he's searching for the right words. "Do you want me to come in?" His tone is careful, a faint hint of hope threaded through his words.

"No," you state, chest buffed out slightly.

"No?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Hm, as you wish. Have a good night." He glances at you once more before turning around.

Your hand flew out and grasped his shoulder. "Wait, Thomas Shelby, you idiot," you stifle a giggle. "I was kidding, now get the hell in here."

He turns back towards you. You grab him by the collar and yank him down to your height, no more words were shared before your lips were on his, this time much more hungry and passionate.  He hesitates for a moment, but soon the heat between you takes over, and he responds to your kiss with a fervor that matches your own. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close, as he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours. It's a desperate, almost feverish kiss, filled with a mix of longing and relief.

The intimate privacy of the moment allows the kiss to deepen further. It's as if the outside world ceases to exist, leaving only the two of you lost in the intoxicating exchange of lips and tongues. Tommy's arms tighten around you, holding you close, his body pressed against yours as he explores your mouth with relentless abandon. The passion and intensity between you grow with each passing second, the rapid pace is blinding and it's most certain that this is leading to something else, especially with the way he doesn't stop your fingers that fumble with the buttons of his shirt, he in fact, responds with a low growl of approval.

The sound of the buttons popping open fills the quiet air, the fabric of his shirt parting to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his bare chest. Encouraged by your actions, his own hands slip under your dress, exploring the contours of your body as they glide over lace and silk.

His grip on your body strengthening with want. His kisses become more urgent, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth, as he tries to claim you completely with every touch and caress.

"Touch me, Tommy," You mumble, pushing his shirt off him, exposing his tattoo on his chest and the scars that adorn his body.

At your request, he doesn't hesitate, a need sparking within him. His hands glide down the contours of your body, tracing every curve with a possessive touch. They find their way to the edge of your dress, sliding underneath until they reach your hips. His fingers dig into the soft flesh, pulling you even closer, his breath catching at the feel of your body flush against his. "Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and ragged with desire.

The words leave your mouth once more. "Touch me, Tommy...please." His hands move with purpose, roaming over your body with an intoxicating mix of gentleness and possessiveness. With each caress, the air between you crackles with tension, the desire growing hotter with every passing moment. Every touch feels like a declaration, his own desire for you laid bare. The sound of your gasp fills the silence, and he responds with a low groan, his mouth against your ear, whispering words of need and hunger.

Your body responds to his touch, goosebumps grow where his fingers lead, he moves his hands further, exploring your curves and contours with a mix of reverence and hunger. His fingers skim over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending delicious shivers through your body. They run along the edge of your underwear, tracing the line of lace before slipping underneath. His touch becomes more intimate, more possessive, as they move upward, seeking the center of your arousal.

"Oh fuck, Tommy,” You couldn't help but let you hands wonder south over his pants, brushing up against his strained crotch

His breath hitches at the feel of your hands moving over his hardened cock, a low growl escaping from the back of his throat. The movement of your hands fuels the fire of his own desire, making his breaths come faster and his touch more insistent. You feel his pulse quicken under your fingertips, a quiet groan escaping his lips. Despite the need coursing through him, he maintains a rhythm, his fingers finding your dripping folds.

The sound of your name escaping his lips in a low groan is enough to drive you further. Your fingers work efficiently, undoing his pants button with a flick of your wrist. Your breath quivers when he dips his finger to the second knuckle inside you.

You tug on his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers, the sight of him fully naked and hard before you sparks a wave of desire that nearly overwhelms you. The sight of his body, lean and toned, covered with a light sheen of sweat, sends a jolt of fire through your veins. His eyes bore into yours, a mix of desperation and need swirling in their depths.

Then, your breath catches in your throat, the sight of his size momentarily stealing your voice. There's a flicker of surprise, tinged with anticipation, in your eyes as you take in his hard cock before you. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat at your reaction, a knowing sound that holds a hint of satisfaction. "You like what you see, love?" he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper laden with desire.

"Indeed I do," you say, mouth salivating at his girth and length, your words fill the silence, a satisfied smirk dances on his lips, his ego bolstered by your reaction.

He gives you a suggestive smile, his hand reaching forward to gently stroke your cheek. "Why don't you show me just how much you like it, hmm?" He purrs, his eyes filled with a heady mix of need and desire.

Your reach your hand out and let your fingers glide over him, he lets out a sharp intake of breath, his head falling back slightly as he relishes the feeling of your touch. He moans softly, his body tensing under your ministrations, unable to hide the effect you're having on him. The sounds he makes, a mixture of pleasure and relief, reverberate within the room, echoing his intense reaction to even the lightest touch.

There's a gentle thud as you kneel, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your lips around his tip. The sudden shift to his skin meeting the heat of your mouth sends a shockwave of pleasure coursing through him. A guttural groan tears from his throat, the sound a visceral reaction to the overwhelming sensations you're eliciting from him. The taste and warmth of your tongue on his sensitive flesh send his mind reeling, and he can't help but sink his fingers into the soft flesh of your shoulder, anchoring himself in the moment.

His fingers tighten involuntarily in your hair as you take him deeper the sensation overwhelming, causing his breath to hitch and a low moan to escape his now parted lips. The heat and pressure of your mouth send waves of pleasure coursing through him, his body responding instinctively, his hips involuntarily rocking into your touch. The only sounds that fill the room are his heavy breaths and the occasional groan of pleasure.

You choke on him, tears escaping your eyes, the sight sends a strange mix of sensations through him. He feels a pang of concern at seeing you struggle, but the sight also makes a darker, more possessive part of him rear its head. He reaches down to gently pull you off his length, a look of concern in his eyes, his voice filled with a hint of gravel as he utters your name like a plea. "Can you handle this, love?"

You nod, the ministrations making your throat convulse and gag. The sight of your eagerness sends a shiver of desire through him, his control slipping almost imperceptibly. His voice drops to a low, gravelly whisper, his words a mix of need and command. His hand gently guiding your head back to where it was. His chin tips up in pleasure, you watch as his adams apple takes a dip.

His breathing becomes more labored, his chest rising and falling in time with your movements. His free hand tightens even more into your hair, the sensations building to a fever pitch that clouds his mind.

His hips jolt up as his climax threatens to take over him, his words lose their usual finesse, becoming a mix of pleas and curses. His body tenses in anticipation, his hips rocking in time with the movements of your mouth as he nears the edge. The combination of pleasure and frustration makes him clench his jaw, desperate for release but not wanting this moment to end.

He suddenly pulls you away, his hand gently cradling your chin, his voice is low and sultry. "Not yet," he murmurs, his breath still coming in ragged panting breaths. The sight of you, your lips flushed and wet, sends a shiver up his spine, and he can't resist the urge to lean down and press a tender kiss to your mouth. "I need to feel you before I come." Tommy said, allowing you to stand before pushing you against the couch to lay down He kisses you passionately, his body pressing against yours, pinning you against the cool leather of the couch. His hands roam over your bare body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, where he bites and sucks at your sensitive skin. His voice, a low growl laden with desire, whispers in your ear. "I want to take you, right here."

"Do it," you whisper your permission into his ear, he doesn't hesitate. With a groan of relief, he pushes himself onto you, no other foreplay needed from how slick you are for him, the heat of his body pressing against yours as he enters you in one fluid motion.

From the moment he's inside you, he matches your energy, his words a mix of raw need and urgency as he starts to move. "You feel so good..." he tells you.

The sound of your moan spills from your lips, he can't help but respond with a groan of satisfaction. The taste of your name on his tongue, mixed with the feel of your body beneath him, drives him deeper into a frenzy of desire. The room fills with the soft sounds of your shared breathing and moans, each movement sending a fresh wave of pleasure through both of you. Every touch, every thrust, is edged with a sense of urgency, as if they're both racing towards an inevitable peak

He then dug his fingers into your hips and hitched them up, shifting the angle of how he fucked you, he found that place deep inside you, the one that made your toes curl and a moan to escape your lips.

His grip tightened around your hips, holding you tighter as he thrust into you with increasing insistence, his own breath growing ragged and his movements more desperate. "Right there, Tommy," you moaned, your back curled as the pleasure increased.

"Right there?" he growled, his voice a low rasp, his eyes searching your face for a response. Your nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of fiery lines as they went, his response was immediate and primal. He grunted his approval as the burning pain mixed with his pleasure, his eyes growing darker with each scrape. The feeling of your nails on his skin only served to fuel his desire further, his movements growing harder and more intense inside you.

His lips descended upon your breasts, his mouth roamed over the soft skin, claiming your nipples, which were hard and pebbled, causing a jolt of ecstasy to shoot through you. He left a trail of burning kisses in his wake, his need for you deepening with each touch. He groaned against your flesh, a guttural sound filled with a desperate craving.

"I'm close," you managed to choke out, legs clamping around his hips and eyes screwing shut, he knew he wasn't far behind either.

He could feel you tightening around him, the telltale signs of your impending release sending his own body into overdrive. His movements became faster, more erratic, as he rocked into you with increasing urgency, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. A low growl echoed in his throat as he rode the edge of release, his own body tensing in anticipation.

Your lips fell open in pure bliss as you came, gushing around his cock, his own orgasm coming out in thick, white ribbons of cum. A guttural groan tore from his lips as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, his body quaking with the force of his own climax. With each ragged breath, he fought to come down from the euphoric high, his body still shaking with the aftershocks of their shared release.

He gently slid out of you, the feeling of emptiness mixed with the intimate sensation of your combined releases sent a shiver down his spine. He reached for his discarded clothes and began to put them back on, his eyes fixed on you. The sight of you, flushed and satisfied, made his chest swell with a strange sense of protectiveness. As he slipped on his waistcoat, he looked at you with a satisfied smile, his voice a low rumble.

"You okay there, love?"

You could only nod, displaying a meek smile, his smile growing wider at the satisfied tone of your voice. He finished buttoning his shirt, his gaze still fixed on you. "Good," he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of you lying there, a picture of contentment. He reached out a hand towards you, offering to help you up. "Up you get."

Once both of you were dressed again, he reached out and adjusted your hair, gently tucking a piece behind your ear. His touch was tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of their earlier encounter.

The air around you still held a slight hum of electricity, a reminder of what had just transpired. He ran his fingers down your arm, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, that was certainly worth the wait," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr.

"Indeed," you mumbled, muscles sore.

He smirked at your agreement, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns on your skin. "So, what now, love?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. Even though he was dressed, the sight of you in his clothes sent another bolt of desire racing through him, making him yearn for even more of you.

"Stay."

A flicker of surprise crossed his features as your simple question sent a jolt through him. Stay? The word echoed in his mind, stirring up a myriad of emotions. "Stay?" he repeated quietly, as if testing the weight of the word on his tongue. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you, a mix of amusement and curiosity in his eyes. "You want me to stay, love?"

"Yes, Tommy. I want you to stay with me," you gently took hold of his hand.

"Well, how can I refuse such a sweet request?" He murmurs. The two of you walked to your room where he enveloped you in hug, laying in the bed with you as you both awaited slumber.

[plutoccult]

NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR LEVI

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: modern au headcanons of levi as your next-door neighbor.

author’s note: HEY??? it’s been a long, long time. i’m not guaranteeing a comeback to this account, but i have missed posting on here. with the way my adult life has become, i don’t have the time to write like i used to, and i find myself caught up in other things now. i wrote these headcanons a long time ago, but with some changes. maybe someday i’ll write again! but for now, i hope you all enjoy, and i’ve missed you guys!!!!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @mayariviolet @todorokiskitten @jeanboyjean @cowgirlikets @dawnthequeen @urhotgfmelz @0p1umz @lykak

taglist form here

— next-door neighbor levi who watched from his front porch with a cup of tea in hand as a handful of movers carried countless boxes into the house next door, the change all happening so fast after the old man who once inhabited it passed away.

— next-door neighbor levi who rolled his eyes upon realizing a young woman had taken over the property, anticipating nights where he struggled to fall asleep thanks to loud music blaring.

— next-door neighbor levi who wasn’t prepared for you to knock on his door, introducing yourself as his new neighbor and explaining that you had inherited your grandfather’s home after his death.

— next-door neighbor levi who felt bad for judging before ever meeting you, welcoming you to the neighborhood and keeping an eye on you from that moment forth, but not in a creepy way. it’s not like a soft spot for you had quickly developed. definitely not that.

— next-door neighbor levi who began to find himself saying good morning to you before you both left for work, you joking that the two of you “need to stop bumping into each other like this.” shockingly enough, levi laughed at such a joke, a rarity from him.

— next-door neighbor levi who noticed your lawn was an atrocious mess and feared you’d get a fine as a result, later knocking on your door and asking if you would like him to cut your lawn for you as he had a mower of his own. when you tried to offer him cash for doing such a thing, saying you had been trying to find someone to do it for ages, he refused, insisting it’s the neighborly thing to do.

— next-door neighbor levi who hated grass, but for some reason he didn’t mind getting a little messy if it was for your sake. it was all about keeping the neighborhood as clean as possible, right?

— next-door neighbor levi who was invited over for dinner after mowing your lawn. although hesitant, he accepted and later came over after washing the smell of grass off of himself.

— next-door neighbor levi who you noticed almost always wore a button up, even now as he entered your place with a bag of tea leaves, one you didn’t ask for him to bring. you were trying to do something nice for him in return for what he’s done for you, but he always seemed to keep on sharing the wealth.

— next-door neighbor levi who was amazed by your tea collection in the kitchen, you explaining how your grandparents loved to drink tea and that you probably got your love for it and also murder mysteries from them.

— next-door neighbor levi who found himself blushing around you that night, unable to pinpoint why he was feeling this way. he wanted to blame the burning sensation in his cheeks on the steaming ramen you cooked, which tasted absolutely delicious, by the way.

— next-door neighbor levi who stayed at your place past his typical bedtime, finding himself in the midst of a murder she wrote marathon with you close to midnight, only leaving because you realized how late the two of you had stayed up, knowing you both had to work the next day.

— next-door neighbor levi who knew after that night he had become smitten by you, but refused to do a thing about it. he didn’t want to end up ruining the friendship you were starting to build and turn into your creepy neighbor instead.

— next-door neighbor levi who tried his best to not overstep any boundaries, the only way he knew how being to keep his distance. he figured it was the safest way to go.

— next-door neighbor levi who hated moments not spent with you. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was completely head over feet.

— next-door neighbor levi who was surprised on a sunday morning when you confronted him and asked if you did something wrong. he hadn’t realized his avoidance was so cold and regretted it upon seeing the frown on your face.

— next-door neighbor levi who knew he couldn’t run from these feelings he was saddled with any longer. the least he had to do was try, and if you were to say no, then so be it.

— next-door neighbor levi who confessed his attraction towards you, although looking away in shame as his face became scalding hot.

— next-door neighbor levi who was taken aback when you cupped his face so he could look at you, his shock even more evident when you kissed him on the cheek and said you were glad he felt that way.

— next-door neighbor levi who later down the line became boyfriend levi, eventually selling his home in favor of sharing one with you, his future wife.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Reader fucking Elvis with a strap-on? Maybe in like the early 1970s?

Kintober Day 19 - Pegging/Strap-ons

A/N: Oh lordy. Well I enjoyed this probably more than I should have done. This is another oneshot in the Princess universe, if you're interested in the others have a look at the masterlist here. I imagine this is a bit later than the other ones, more like early 1972.

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 2.7K ish

TWs: Well, fairly obviously there is a lot of ass stuff (fingering, licking, strap-on). Reader calls Elvis Daddy and he calls her Princess. Praise kink. Also a bit of choking, overstimulation of reader, reader does kind of say no a lot at one point. Possessive kink.

Kinktober masterlist

You’re lying in bed together after a particularly gymnastic session, both breathing a little hard still. Your body wrapped around his, your hand on his belly. 

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Ya ever think what it’d be like f’me to fuck you?”

Elvis’ eyes spring wide open from their half-closed position. What do you mean? His mind shuts down before it starts to contemplate the possibilities. 

“That doesn’t make any sense, honey,” he tells you, matter-of-factly. You’re probably still dick drunk. Not thinking clearly. 

“Y’know, men have a prostate, and it feels really good to stimulate it,” you begin. 

Elvis squeezes his eyes shut and contemplates putting his fingers in his ears. You’re always doing this. Telling him all this sinful stuff. He’s never known a woman to have such a filthy mouth. Sometimes he likes it. Sometimes he feels like he shouldn’t. 

“The only way to reach it is to put something, like your finger, in your asshole.”

“Honey!” Elvis snaps. “I don’t want ya puttin’ things in my asshole. What do you think I am? Some kind of fag? For God’s sake.”

You move your hand to his chest and rub gentle circles there, trying to calm him. 

“I was jus’ asking. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Jus’ curious.”

He breathes out of his nose, hard. “You’re too curious, little girl. That’s your problem.”

You carry on with your circles, kissing the back of his neck until you feel him relax. You’re not going to mention it again, but you know he will. He’s been like this with things you suggest a lot recently. All fire and brimstone and we’re packing our bags for hell baby one minute, and then begging for it the next. 

***

It’s weeks after that conversation, and you’re starting to think maybe it was a step too far and he won’t ever mention it again. He’s on top of you, his dick down your throat, roughly fucking your face when he suddenly growls, “put your finger there.”

Luckily you know what he means. Your hands are gripping his ass tightly as he forces his way further down your throat. He was in a real dominant mood when he came in after his midnight show, but you don’t mind at all. Your eyes are watering a little but you’re pretty adept at taking him like this now. You slowly move one hand between his cheeks, and rub a finger across his entrance. He groans, then growls again. 

“No. Stop it.” He sounds angry. You move your hand back. 

He carries on face-fucking you, one hand on the back of your head, the other gripping the headboard, until he cums down your throat. 

***

The next time it comes up, he’s lying on his front on the bed, completely naked, exhausted after three shows in one day. You promised him a massage, and you’re gently rubbing his back. You don’t hold it together for long though, following your hands with gentle kisses, making him moan softly. Your massaging reaches his ass, and you knead it worshipfully. When his moaning continues, you press kisses there too. 

“Mmmm. Princess.”

“Ya want me ta stop?”

“No, please. It feels good.”

You keep kissing and massaging, grasping his ass cheeks and pulling them apart, staring down at that little hole. Tracing your tongue over it, lightly. Another moan. You don’t stop, pressing your tongue against him, licking him more firmly now. Your hands knead his flesh as you carry on licking, listening to him breathing hard. He whimpers when you press your tongue inside him, encouraging you to push further inside, starting to move it in and out slowly. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moans.

His dick is hard and pressed against the bed, and it’s getting a little uncomfortable. But whatever the hell you’re doing to his ass feels wonderful. You keep going for a while longer, then you move your head to look again. It feels so wrong, but you can’t help looking at his pink little asshole. Even you, who would probably do anything he asked and plenty of things he’s never even heard of, think there’s something a little naughty about being so turned on by this. 

“You wanna lie on your side?” You ask, quietly. 

You’re sort of afraid to stop what you’ve been doing, in case he breaks out of this daydream and suddenly decides he doesn’t like it after all. But you think he’d be more comfortable this way. 

“Mmm.” 

He rolls onto his side, and he looks over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours hesitantly. 

“Ya could try… a finger…” he whispers, his face reddening. 

You nod quickly, gently pushing his leg forwards to give you better access. Whilst you’re doing it you catch a glimpse of his hard dick, shining with precum, making you bite your lip and rub your thighs together. Fuck. You start to lick him again, trying to relax him. Then you coat a finger in spit and start to gently press it against his entrance. You feel the tension in his body again. 

“Daddy, relax,” you coo. “Why don’t ya touch yourself?”

He groans and wraps his hand around his length, starting to pump his dick. Immediately you see the change in his body, he’s not so tense, he’s starting to lose himself a little. Your finger presses again and this time you slide it in. 

“Oh, fuck.”

You start to move it in and out and he moans with pleasure and frustration. He can just about feel it ghost over something and no matter what either of you do, your little fingers don’t quite reach it. He cums hard all the same, and he eats your pussy out afterwards with a fervour you don’t remember him ever having before. 

“You’ve gotta find something longer,” he mumbles into your hair in the dark that night. 

***

You go to the adult store on your own. Elvis isn’t happy about the idea, but there’s no-one he can trust to go with you. He gives you cash, just to make sure there’s definitely no trail back to him, and tells you to come back as quickly as you can. You get a lot of attention when you’re in there, as a young, pretty female in a sea of dirty old men. They all take a step back from you when they see which aisle you’re going to though. You’re either a lesbian or a real dominant freak, neither of which they’re that interested in. 

You take your time choosing a harness, and even more time getting the right dildo, something slim but a good length. You pick up some more lube too, and some cleaning spray. The man behind the counter is a little surprised by your purchases, but he doesn’t let himself show it. He’s seen some shit, working in this store. And you’re a lot nicer to look at than most people who come in here. He’s sure he recognises you from somewhere, but he can’t quite place you. He gives you a discount anyway and puts your purchases in a paper bag, telling you cheerfully to come again any time. You wave. 

***

Elvis stares at the harness and the dildo for a long time, swallowing hard. 

“I dunno honey…” he mutters. 

You get on his lap, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to.”

“Hmmm.”

You can tell he’s conflicted. It’s one thing to whisper it in the darkness, and quite another to contemplate it in the cold light of day. 

You start to kiss his neck. “I don’t care either way. I just wanna make you feel good.”

“Mmmm.”

His hands roam your body as he leans into your kisses. He does really want to. But he’s scared.

“God himself really is gonna strike us down, honey. This ain’t right. It’s against nature.”

You bite your lip, thinking now is not the time to tell him about gay penguins. 

“It’s whatever ya want. You just tell me.”

He groans, his head lolling down onto your shoulder. You kiss his neck again and run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little. 

“Ya won’t tell anyone? Whatever happens with us? You won’t tell the guys? The papers?”

You move to look at his face. “It goes to the grave with me. I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

He breathes out of his nose, hard. “Okay.”

You grin. “Okay?”

“Okay. You can do it.”

You kiss his lips gently. “Okay, let’s go get clean.”

Once you’re in the big shower together, you soap him up, rubbing sudsy circles all over his body. He pulls you in for a passionate kiss half way through, then lets you go so that you can pay some attention to his ass. Leaning his hands against the wall, he spreads his legs and bites his lip as you slowly pump a soapy finger in and out of him, before adding another. He gets hard immediately, unable to stop himself from moaning. Much as you’re enjoying the noises he’s making, you decide you should probably get out before he cums just from this. 

Once you’re both dry he wraps the towel around his waist and looks at you, shyly. You walk the couple of steps it takes to close the distance between you. 

“Think ya might have to take this off, hm?” You murmur, fingers running between the top of the towel and his skin. 

He nods, and you remove it slowly, feeling him tremble. Tossing the towel on the floor you kiss him eagerly, your hand stroking him. 

“I’m gonna take such good care a ya,” you murmur against his lips. “I won’t hurt ya, promise.”

You feel his shaky hand ghost down your back. “I trust you,” he whispers back. 

“I’m gonna make ya feel so good, Daddy.”

You walk over to the bed together and he lies down on his front. You help him put two pillows under his hips, making sure he’s comfortable. Then you start to gently kiss him like you did before, running your tongue over his exposed asshole. Encouraged by his soft moans, you push a wet finger in again, and then another. Satisfied that he’s relaxed enough, you grab the harness and slip it on, attaching the dildo. You take a deep, shaky breath. You’re nervous too, you’ve never done this before and the last thing you want to do is fuck it up and put him off doing it ever again. Or even worse, hurt him. You grab the lube and squeeze some onto your hand, wrapping it around the dildo and stroking it a few times to cover it. 

He whimpers a little now you’re not touching him anymore, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Well, he can guess. And he could look. But he feels like if he looks he’ll lose his nerve. 

“It’s okay Daddy, I’m just getting ready,” you tell him, gently. You rub your hand over his ass cheek and then gently push his legs a little further apart with your knee. “Ya ready f’me?”

He whimpers again. 

“You’ve gotta use your words.”

“Yes,” he whispers. 

“Okay, I’m gonna be so careful. You tell me if ya want me ta stop.”

“Okay,” he whispers again, still not looking. 

You line yourself up with him and push inside carefully. He groans, and you start to slowly fuck him with the tip, listening to the soft moans he makes. You moan a little yourself. You’re so turned on by this whole thing you wish there was some way you could touch yourself at the same time. 

Gaining confidence, you start to thrust in a little deeper, hypnotised by watching the toy slide in and out of him. 

You know you’ve gone deep enough when you hear him. 

“Shit. Fuck… oh my God…” His eyes have sprung open and he’s gasping. It feels incredible. 

“Ya like that, Daddy?” You ask, softly. 

“Oh God yes. Don’t stop.”

You let go of the base of the dildo now you’re far enough in, and grab his hips instead. It briefly crosses his mind that this is what he usually does to you, this must be how you feel… vulnerable, turned on, like a ragdoll in his hands. You pull him back onto the dildo, making him cry out in ecstasy, and you moan in reply. Speeding up your movements, you watch him, his hands balling into fists, eyes tightly shut again. Arousal runs down your legs. How is this turning you on so much? He’s so vulnerable for you, coming undone at your doing. But he’s come undone plenty of times when you’ve sucked him off or he’s fucked you. You’ve watched it time and time again. There’s something about this that’s different though. A level of trust and intimacy you never imagined you’d reach when you met him that night after a show. Not even after the dildos, the wand, that time you’d tied him up and teased him for hours. The way he’d trembled when you held him earlier, the way his hands shook. It blows you away that he trusts you so much. 

“Princess, I’m gonna… ah fuck…”

He’s never really got used to the feeling of cumming without something around his dick, no matter how many times you’ve used the wand on him. But the pleasure is unbelievable. He can’t wait to do it again. 

You carefully slide out of him and take the harness off. Crawling onto the bed you lie on your back in front of him, your legs spread. 

“Need ya t’lick me… need ta cum…” you mumble, feeling like your whole pussy is swollen from arousal. 

He pulls you towards him in one quick movement and then buries his face in your pussy. You almost yelp from how sensitive you are and now enthusiastically he’s eating you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, making sure you stay where he wants you. He wants to make you cum a lot to say thank you. 

“Mmm, Daddy… it’s too much…” you moan, after the third orgasm. He’s still going and you’re not sure how to make him stop. 

“Ya can do one more, Princess,” he tells you. 

You whimper, wriggling around under the weight of his arms. He moves one from around your leg and puts it on top of your thigh instead, leaning on it heavily to stop you from moving, then starts to rub firm circles on your puffy overstimulated clit. 

“No no no…” you moan, desperately trying to get him to leave you alone. 

“Yes, Princess. It’s my pussy, and I say when it’s had enough.”

You arch your back desperately, throwing your arms over your head. “Daddy…” you whine. 

“C’mon Princess. One more time for Daddy.”

You feel the ghost of an orgasm in your hips and strain to find it. If you can just… 

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh God…” 

Finally. It never occurs to you to fake it for him. 

“Good girl,” he tells you, finally letting you go. 

Crawling to lie next to you, he gently teases you by running his fingertips up and down your body. You jolt at the touch and he chuckles. 

‘Ya tryna get me back?” You ask, squinting through the one eye you can manage to open. 

“What?”

“For fuckin’ ya in the ass?”

His eyes go wide, first at the words and then at the implication. “No, Princess. I was tryna thank ya. Give ya half the pleasure y’just gave me.”

You manage to pry the other eye open. “That’s real admirable, Daddy. But it was… a bit much. Could ya stop at three next time?”

He smirks for a bit and then starts to giggle. “Alright. Sorry. Maybe I was tryna make sure ya didn’t think ya were in control of everything…”

You giggle too and wrap yourself around him, looking deeply into his eyes.

“I don’t think I’m in control of anything… you’re still my Daddy and I’m still your Princess. Whatever we do.”

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