#i wanna make him cry /:

[justagirlobsessedwithwizards]

you can’t tell me that theodore nott wouldn’t whimper in bed. and trust me, he is LOUD.

he’s not afraid of anybody hearing him because he would take such pride in everyone knowing you make him feel that good.

and don’t even get me started on you riding him.

he’d have such a tight grip on your hips, no doubt leaving bruises for the next few days. his eyes rolled back as he lets out the loudest whimper.

“fuck baby.. you-ah-make me feel so fucking good..” “that’s it, just like that pretty girl” “come on, show me how bad you need to cum”

and if you start dirty talking back? he can’t even think straight, his mind all fuzzy as he sees stars. he LOVES being praised.

“you like this, pretty boy? like maki ng me feel good?” “that’s it, letting me use you so nicely”

his whimpers are sometimes so quiet you can barely hear them, and he burries his face into your neck, whimpering in your ear.

(i wanna make him feel good 😣)

[feasibilities]

Love & Hate | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Synopsis: Thomas' declining mental state pushes his wife over the edge.

Warnings: Alcoholism, Separation, Emotional Abuse, PTSD, Pregnancy

Author's Note: I was so obsessed with the scene of Thomas confronting the nuns that I wrote this. Enjoy!

Dear Thomas,

I don’t think this marriage will last any longer. I don’t recognize you anymore. You are never home—physically or mentally. All of your burdens fall on my shoulders and I can’t carry them anymore. I love you with my entire being and I hope that you’re able to heal.

Thomas charged into the bedroom you two shared with the letter you wrote him clenched in his gloved fist. You kept your back turned to him and hastily closed your suitcases. You were filled with a sense of dread as you were supposed to be gone before he returned.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, fury brimming under the surface. His eyes were burning holes in the back of your head. A deep exhale left him before he snapped at your disregard. 

“Look at me!” He bellowed, making you flinch. You turned to face him. His anguished eyes could’ve changed your mind but you had to stand firm in your decision. 

“I can’t deal with this anymore, Tom. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the news in-person.” You said apologetically, taking off your wedding ring. You heard the rumple of his leather gloves as he clenched his fists tighter. You placed it on the mantle of the fireplace. Gathering your belongings, you walked past him and began to walk downstairs. In an act of desperation, he followed and took one of your suitcases. He handed it to Frances and ordered her to unpack it. You wordlessly retrieved the bag and left. A roaring “Fuck!” came from the home once you shut the door. 

Thomas drank himself half to death in his office. Frances made up as many reasons as she could to enter without his permission. She eventually got him to stop drinking with false promises of your return. 

—

Christmas was near and Arrow House was beautifully decorated for the occasion. Thomas invited family and friends but the absence of his wife was still a sore spot. Thanks to Charlie Strong, he found out that you were back at your parent’s estate. Despite his criminal activities, your parents were disappointed at the separation as they had never seen you happier. He decided to give you a call. Fortunately, he still knew the number by heart. 

“Hello?” You answered in a singsong tone. A sense of relief washed over him at the sound of your voice. 

“It’s Thomas.” He clarified. 

“Oh, hi. It’s nice to hear from you.” You said softly. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to invite you to Christmas dinner. I know we’ve separated but a seat at the table is always open for you.” He confessed, clearing his throat to prevent any tremors in his voice. The line was silent for a moment that felt like an eternity to him.

“What time should I arrive?” You asked. 

“6 in the evening would be nice.” He replied. A rare smile crept across his face. 

“Great, see you then, Tom. Goodnight.” You said, ending the call. He sat on the couch and toyed with your wedding ring. 

On Christmas morning, Frances was surprised to see Thomas in a particularly gleeful mood. She suspected that he got in contact with you but kept her opinions to herself. She grew annoyed by his insistence on perfection as he was never this obsessive since the wedding. The clock struck 6 o’clock and Thomas paced around the dining room until the doorbell rang. He opened the door to see his beloved. He hurriedly invited you in and sat your presents under the tree. 

“There’s no one here, Tom. Did I miss dinner?” You asked after seeing the empty dining table. 

“No, I told you to come an hour earlier so we could chat.” He said sheepishly. You shot him a fiery glare before he led you to the study. He was too busy admiring your figure to begin any conversation. 

“What did you want to talk about?” You said firmly, tapping his leg to get his attention. 

“I was hoping you would consider moving back in. I’ve had a lot of time to think about these past few months and I realized what I lost.” He said.

“That’s wonderful, Tom, but that can’t happen unless you’ve made some substantial changes in your life. I don’t think that could happen in the little time we’ve been apart. We’ve been together for nearly 10 years now.” You countered. 

“I haven’t changed completely but I’m working on it.” He argued, looking at the floor. 

“You’ve been working on it since you came home from the war. Whatever ‘work’ you’re doing is not enough. I’m not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself. I won’t be an emotional punching bag either.” You objected, feeling your heart break all over again. Your words, as true as they were, were like bullets tearing through his body. He searched for an escape.

“Let’s go meet the other guests, eh?” He said flippantly, walking to the hall.

“Not until we finish the conversation you started.” You hissed. The harshness of your tone caught him off guard—he returned and sat in a nearby chair. 

“I will move back in under these conditions: You see a doctor on a regular basis, you stop drinking so much, and you make time for us as husband and wife. This is the last time, Thomas, and I mean it.” You attested, standing over him. He silently accepted your terms and retrieved your wedding ring from his pocket. 

“Mrs. Shelby, will you do me the great honor of moving in with me again?” He asked, sliding the band on your finger. You leaned down and gave him a lingering kiss. His hands naturally came to rest on your hips. That familiar flame was reignited until you realized you had to put them out until the party was over. 

“We can meet the guests now.” You quipped, walking out of the study. 

The worries of Thomas’ friends and family were eased when they saw you two in jubilation once more. It didn’t seem like a facade like party that occurred the night before your departure. The issues in your marriage weren’t magically fixed but your love allowed you to work on them together. 

—

The bed shook wildly as Thomas thrusted into you. You raked your nails down his back as you panted in his ear. He was so intoxicated with pleasure that his praises were completely unintelligible. Your walls spasmed around his dick as his thrusts sped up. Your soft whimpers progressed to unbridled screams of passion. A loud groan left him as he finished inside of you. The both of you kissed lovingly before he laid next to you. You traced the tattoo on his chest as he closed his eyes. 

“What if we had a baby?” You asked. His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes flickered open.

“The doctor said we couldn’t.” He replied, examining you closely. 

“I’m late, Thomas. Incredibly late.” You said blatantly, making eye contact. 

“Is that why you were drinking that awful sparkling cider?” He teased. 

“Mhm.” You hummed, putting his hand on your stomach. 

“It’ll be a boy then.” He proclaimed. 

“God, no. I can’t handle any more Shelby boys. All of you are batshit.” You joked. 

[cannedmuffins]

He’s so pretty 😩

Source

[sadhours]

🤪

[oneeyedgrimes]

Guys. If you love yourself and Norman ( who doesn’t) you’ll go and watch “Meet me in berlin” on YouTube and just LISTEN to Norman’s voice, his face is beat up and bruised ( he’s still my pretty baby) and I still can’t get over just how ATTRACTIVE his voice is, perfect amount of raspy deep goodness. You know you wanna hear it, WHO DOESNT WANNA HEAR IT?? I might be late to the party But seriously if you haven’t seen it go watch right now !!

Also, honorable mention, Norman’s dirty talk as Henry in night of the Templar, everyone deserves to fantasize about Norman calling THEM a dirty little whore. And my god his groans im on the floor shaking foaming at the mouth send help ( don’t, I love it here)

Peace yall.

[scruus]

Credit: @lalapaaaaa

Look at him and tell me there is no way he doesn’t like to be called a ‘pretty princess’ in bed. Fuck him like a whore but love him like a princess.

[firemenenthusiast]

suddenly remembered that farleigh was literally crying in saltburn. i think we as a society dont appreciate that enough

[cum4brains]

Brain CDump 3 | puppy boy

cw: petplay, over simulation, degradation

having a puppy lick and suck my cock for as long as i want him too. feeling him rut against my leg trying to ease the pain between his legs as i make him keep his hands in place. you’re not allowed to cum until i do <3

but it’s a shame, my poor puppy is so cock drunk that even when i do cum he keeps going. forcing another orgasm out of me as i pull at his hair completely overstimulated. it’s all too much as i face fuck him, watching him play with his cock as i do. Such a good puppy he is, always. knowing what i need to relax <3

[blasvemous]

I want you to worship me

[mayalaen]

can't sleep

in the mood for Cas seeing how much he can hurt Dean before Dean actually cries

like real tears even though he's trying so hard not to

and Cas smirks as he climbs onto Dean's legs and grinds his cock over Dean's thigh

licking the tears from his face and coming on Dean's balls as Dean whimpers and finally begs Cas to stop through clenched teeth

[peppermintquartz]

Playroom!verse, Joestafa, angst

Parental death mentioned

G

*

Mustafa returns from work and is surprised to see that the bar is closed. He has to enter through the back door. Joe's office is locked, too.

He heads up to their living space. Silence. No one in the kitchen, no one in the home office, no one in the bedroom. But Joe's phone was on his nightstand, so he was definitely home, which meant he had to be on the fourth floor.

"Joe?"

"I'm here."

Mustafa frowns. Joe sounds different. He takes off his shoes and sets them outside on the top step before going quietly into the dojo, which is Joe's sacred space.

Joe's not in workout clothes. In fact, he is dressed in a dark gray coat, black jeans and a white polo shirt, standing in the center of the room and staring out of the windows. As Mustafa draws closer, he is stunned to see tear tracks on his lover's face.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He has never seen Joe upset.

Joe mutely extends his right hand. Still unsure, Mustafa takes it. He is tugged close to Joe who then kisses his cheek and sighs.

"I have to go to Thailand," he murmurs. "Flight is in five hours."

Confused, Mustafa asks again, "Joe, what's wrong? Why are you leaving?"

"My mom." Joe's voice shudders and his stoic demeanor cracks just a fraction. "She's, um. She's in a bad way. I'm going to see her." His grip on Mustafa tightens. "For the last time. To tell her... tell her I'm well. That... that I stayed away, so she could be safe. She knows what I did, what I had to do. Avenged Dad and Rasi and Nauri. But she doesn't know how much. How much I. And not about you. She needs to know about you. But I'm not even sure I'll... Not sure if I'll be there in time."

And that somehow breaks Joe. He shuts his eyes and burrows his face into Mustafa's neck, and he's trembling. Hoarse, gasping sobs are ripped from Joe's throat. Mustafa embraces him fiercely, horrified by Joe's impending loss.

They've never really talked about Joe's family. Finn has mentioned something to Mustafa once, that Joe had to grow up too soon because his family was torn from him too cruelly. Joe himself had once brought up that his mother is alive but they are estranged from each other.

Pulling away slightly, Mustafa kisses Joe and drinks in the older man's grief as best as he can. He whispers, "Let me come with you. Please."

Let me help you bear this burden. Let me be there for you, with you.

Joe is silent, save for the occasional harsh inhalation. Only when his breathing is more steady does he nod. "Thank you, baby."

"I'll go pack now." Mustafa kisses Joe again, a slow, gentle press of their mouths together, and then heads downstairs.

[squishsourcee]

I want to devour this man alive and leave not a single trace behind.

[erosology]

i haven’t played a COD game since black ops but könig has my cooter in a death grip

[dirtytransmasc]

Have you too fallen into the Spiderverse hyperfixation pit? 👀

yes I have, the brain worms have dug their way into my skull and are relentlessly gnawing on what remains of my brain, their numbers are growing as we speak.

[cherubchemurgist]

Me watching Batman Begins for the first time: ...

*sees Babygirl TM Jonathan Crane*

Me, suddenly feral: I'm gonna snap that twink boy like a glowstick.

[theogonies]

naoya is a misogynist and would definitely call me slurs but 😳

lmao YEAH. like. im a feminist i think he's nasty but he's so. hnng

yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning