#let him eat his honey combs

[ryan-waddell11]

I miss him (and the fact that he is always a mood)

[angelplummie]

getting baby trapped by 30s art……… i m unwell. after a messy divorce with tashi he found you, his kinder, softer, altogether more human younger girlfriend, and he can’t get enough. part of him craves tashis authority, but the other part of him relishes in being more than someone, older and stronger and wiser. he loves the way you make him feel, loves the way you dote on him and listen to him and take him in his entirety. loves the way you don’t play fucking tennis, you talk about other things, care about other things, fuck about other things. loves the way you lay down on your back for him and do as he says, even when he commands you in his soft, kind way. loves the way your eyes bead with tears as he pounds your tight young cunt and stares into your blistering face. he loves to stretch you open on his long cock and use you, use you for his pleasure until you cream and whimper, eat his seed from your sore, spasming cunt. he could fuck you however he wanted, and you adored him for it. in all his years he had never had so much sexual freedom, never been as totally and utterly fufilled. he loves how you thank him, for everything. with the newest dior hanging from your arm, you thank him. with his cum still on your tongue and bleary eyes, you thank him. he loves so much about you he’s starting to think he loves you. he loves you. you’re everything he needs after all that transpired with tashi, he needs someone loving and open. he wants you forever. but you’re so young. you could change, it could all go away so quickly. he needs a way to keep you, to make sure you always look at him with stars in your eyes, make sure you need him as much as he needs you. so slowly, he begins hiding your birth control. not very well, if you really wanted to find it you would have. but you didn’t. and you won’t.

“art,” you sigh as your wonderful boyfriend kisses your neck. you lay on his white sofa together, legs interlocked, pressing into every part of each other.

“art,” you sigh again, his hands palming your breast over your thin cami,”art, i forgot to take my pill. i couldn’t find my pill.”

“hmm,” he moans into your neck, grinding his hips into your thigh.

“art we can’t.”

“i want you.”

you giggle, and let him push away your top, and take your soft nipple into his mouth until it hardened, and deep in your core you felt a furling, peeling pleasure.

“i’m ovulating,” you breathe,”im gonna get pregnant.”

he groans, rock hard dick straining against his shorts, against your supple thigh. his hands roam over your torso and with kitten licks he flicks your nipple. you expel a soft breath, fingers carding through the blonde, tousled hair you suggested he grew out. you were making him young again.

“i want you. i’ll get a condom in a second.”

he’s lying. hes a liar and a bad bad man and he knows it. but he can’t care. you mewl once more about ovulating, but your fingers comb through his hair, and your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut as he sucks and licks and paws at your tits, humping your thigh with his achingly hard cock.

“i’m… art… pregnant…” you whine half heartedly, but it only makes him sigh deeper, and he imagines the day that you’ll tell him that in complete sentences. would you be teary eyed? would you need convincing? or would you give yourself to him like he felt you would? only time would tell.

“shhhh.”

you twitched, spine arching and pushing yourself further into his mouth.

“i’m gonna grab a condom any second,” he murmured, “i want you now.”

“you have me now.”

he moves up your body and presses his lips to yours, large hand ghosting your jaw. you close your lips against each others, and open again to touch lip to tongue and tongue to tooth, to taste and to breathe each other. he tastes like sweet nothing, like air and cleanliness and summer. you taste like honey to him. your fingers tuck his hair behind his peach fuzzed ear delicately, and you breathe against each others upper lip. his nose mushes against yours and he flicks his tongue at your gums and lips. it deepens, and he toes the line between lavishing you in affection and trying to eat you lips first. it’s hungry and wet, and you forget where his mouth begins and yours ends, all becoming blurred in the spit and the heat of it.

he pulls away, with a spit string connecting your two puffy lips. his eyes twinkle in the dim light that can reach them in your tight embrace.

“why don’t you take off your panties?”

and he leant away, the warmth of his body leaving you burning in its absence. he sat, perched, watching you from above. he looked down his nose at you with a smile, so genuine and yet so condescending. so soft and nurturing, like you needed to be guided and taken care of. that him seeing you naked and feeling your insides and making you stupid and small was what you needed, was how he had to take care of you. it was times like this that you thought about the age difference, when he made you so aware that he could make you want to do anything, anything if it was just to please him. a special ability only he had over you, and if he has his way you would feel it forever. you scramble to be more upright, to rest on your elbows and lift your hips far enough that your reaching fingers could pull down your cotton panties. you writhed beneath him to reveal yourself, nipples peaking from your cami as he watched you fully clothed, in his white shirt and loose pyjama shorts. his hair was ruffled, this way and that, and he looked more collected than he ever had.

shed of your tiny covering, the orange glow of the living room light reflecting off the wetness that was smeared to your inner thigh. from under your lashes u stare up at him, the way his shirt clings involuntarily to the tightness of his core and to his broad shoulders, the way his blonde eyelashes flutter at the sight of your thighs, your hips, your tits, all the parts of you that spill over with softness. your lips part slightly, and in silence you forget what he wants you to forget and beg him to have his way with you.

he was pulled to you once more like a magnet, and you instinctively bent your knees up and spread your legs to receive his torso and hips. he took the bends of your knees in each hand and folded you up so that your ankles hung by his shoulders, bouncing in the air as the sofa gave way for his weight. he knelt above you for just a moment, just a tortuous moment before bending down, sliding his body back so his face could remain above your hot pussy.

with an untroubled drop of the wrist, your legs fell to his shoulders, sprawled on his back. the innermost part of your thighs pressed lightly to his ear, and your heels rested lightly on his back.

with his head situated mere inches from your hot throbbing hole, he took the opportunity to take his time. while he had you in the palm of his hand he made you suffer for it, kissing the tender flesh that shined with the mess he had made for you.

every touch was torture, and he knew what he was doing. his eyes never left your face, the ghost of a smile across his lips whenever they were not eclipsed by the fat of your thighs. your eyes never left his face either, and you watched him breathlessly. he licks a stripe of skin against the grain of your leg hair, and you make a sound like you’re crying.

“oh,” you whisper, “please.”

he hums, laughing. the air from his nose hits your folds and you twitch.

“ok,” he’s soft, controlled, serene.

lips parted, he leans forward into your core, not for one second breaking eye contact with you as he takes your clit into his wet mouth. his pink tongue lathes it, up and down and up and down.

his fingers make sharp indents in your thigh to stop your wriggling, and he forces your ass into his chest. he cranes his neck to eat you deeper, and you cry out, tears beading in your eyes. sucking brutally, he moans into your hole.

“fuck,” you fist the cushion beside you, gathering the fabric and ungathering it,”fuck.”

he eats your pussy like it’s your mouth, makes out with it, makes love to it. he seems to take you in your entirety into his mouth, making you all wet with him, covered and soaked. he reaches up slowly, taking your hand in his, and squeezes it softly. your fingers are tight, paralysed in his hold. the pressure his hand provides gets rid of your compulsive need to squeeze, pacifies you, makes you dumb and limp. you lie back, no longer watching his eyes trained on you, your mouth hanging open and your eyes fluttering closed. you moan involuntarily, unaware at all that you’re alive, that you haven’t died and gone to heaven.

his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand in time with his mouthing, the swirl of his tongue and the rhythmic closing of his mouth. you taste like honey here too, like nectar and sugar and love. your ankles lock together and unlock on his back, and the mere feeling of that sends chills down his whole body.

suddenly he stops. he lays a final fat kiss on your clit, watching as you mewl and your tight, ready hole gushes. he pulls away with your puppy fat legs still hugging side burns and jaw. gently he rises and slips out of your leggy grasp, fingers still interlocked with yours. he wants to kiss you. you are so pathetic when he has his way with you, so passive and pliable. he wants to hurt you because you would let him, but infinitely more and for the exact same reason he wants only to look after you. to make you happy and full and rewarded for your eternal beauty, inside and out.

he wanted to kiss you, and so he did. he leaned over, still completely dressed, and draped his slender, finely chiselled body over yours. it even made him light headed to think about being close to you, to your body, not hardened by the dedication that destroyed him, left soft and unscarred, left without taint. his underbelly of tenderness was your everywhere. you were the rounding to his shoulders, the layer of fat that kept him in warm in winter.

you collided without friction, his wet lips gliding over yours in a dance of want. your legs were still under his control, and as such you were spread beneath him. your knees dangled by his sides, leaving your pussy wide open to leave sloppy kisses on his shorts. you kissed back with the same ferocity. despite your implicit submission, you wanted to consume him as much as he wanted to consume you, if not more. you gave him what he wanted because you wanted to give it to him. wanted to give him everything he would receive.

you gave him your tongue, which he accepted with a grin.

you gave him coiling fingers that grasped the fabric on his back desperately, which he took for momentum. he rolled forward on top of you, deepening the hold his mouth had on yours.

you gave him moans, whimpers from a wavering throat which he took for courage.

“im so hard for you,” you felt the reverberation of his voice in your very core, and you died a sweet death,”i’m gonna put it in.”

“uh huh.”

success. you had forgotten. he laughed, mischievously, and a smile settled into the curves of his face.

all you heard was the snap of elastic, the rustle of fabric and the dulled slap of arts heavy cock against his t-shirt.

all you saw was his pupils grow until his eyes appeared black, like an animal’s, looking at you so directly you felt he saw you deeper than skin, deeper than meat or bone. you felt utterly seen, and utterly loved. you met his gaze pleadingly, eyebrows quirking up in the centre and lips pouting. please, it told him, please my love.

“you want it?” he breathed. pre cum smeared the fat tip, his balls hung low out of his shorts that gathered at his middle thigh. it was so big. long and fat and filling. so big and so pretty, so big and pretty it was all you could do not to cry.

“i want it art,” you replied, voice clipped and cheeks burning,”i want you.”

“yeah?”

he touched your face, from your jaw to the temple. he didn’t even try to kiss you. he just held your face. he was gentle, gentle, gentle as ever. his every action was kind. you love him. you’re in love with him.

“i want you art. i love you.”

and that was that. he was getting you pregnant tonight. someone would have to pry him off of you, because so help him god he would drain himself dry in your hot wet cunt if it was the last thing he ever did.

you squealed as he pushed the entirety of his cock in, bulbous head stretching your cunt wider than any cock had stretched it before. but it slipped in so easily with the outpour of your sticky love. it made a thick squelch, and he groaned so loud, squeezed his eyes shut so hard, you might’ve thought he was being tortured.

“fuck!”

the force of his thrust had caused the thick juices of you arousal to spread around his thick cock where he stretched you out, the pain minimal, familiar and intoxicating.

you throbbed in unison, blood coursing through where you connected. you were so tight and hot, so fucking wet. art struggled, arms bracing either side of your shoulders, to force the rest of himself into you. he also struggled to think, to be a human and not a ploughing, panting, thoughtless dog.

a moan rose through your throat, broke from you involuntarily, came out like the sound of murder. your taut pussy suckled his fat dick with every pulse and quiver. you felt him so deep inside you, and he fought to push deeper. fingers still locked, his crushed your knuckles and your palm.

“oh my fucking god.”

it could’ve been either one of you, because you both meant to say it. this moment of stillness and feeling waited one more second, before art became beast, and drew back his hips so that only his pink tip stayed gripped inside. you felt so soul crushingly empty, until he drove himself back in, and you were brought back to life.

“god,” he pounded any thoughts away, any and all of them, until all you could do was breath and blaspheme, “fucking- christ.”

the buttery, fevered roll of his hips was one he was in no control of. he felt as though he was being moved by some godly force to cram your tight cunt full of him. his jaw hung open, and the hand that didn’t hold yours instead held your shoulder, dwarfing in it in his wide palm. holding onto you for sanity, his eyes opened to take in what he had done to you.

“you’re so tight. perfect. perfect. perfect.”

“i love you.”

“i love you. i love you. please god.”

what was he asking for? was he asking you or god? you would do it for him, regardless. you would do it.

your hand reached into his hair, and tugged hard. a whorish moan left his lips, the rolling of his lower half stuttering as his neck arched up. his knees were spread wide, digging deeply into his sofa. his pelvis moved on its own, smoothly, as if he had reverted to his baser instincts and let years of evolution take its course, nature guiding him to your inevitable impregnation.

you were as he liked you, completely dumb. he was too gone to enjoy it, but on another planet of pleasure entirely. he couldn’t relish in the feeling of control, but he could in the feeling of you, of having you, being loved by and loving you. the suckling heat of you was more than a man could take, and the picture beneath him was no more comprehensible.

your angel lips spread to a glistening tongue, your eyes glassy and dilated, your brow creased, hair mussed. he had to have that too, and so he kissed you once more. the hand on his hair tightened, and he moaned into your mouth.

he pumped your pussy so deep, pre cum was dashed from his oozing tip inside you, heavy balls slapping at your skin. you were so wet you didn’t notice, only felt the heat and the mind numbing ecstasy. the feeling of being pounded like a piece of meat till your tight girl pussy remembered every vein his grown man dick, but kissed like a lover and held like a princess pushed you that much closer, sent you that little bit more over the edge. you needed it. you needed him to cum. to please your daddy.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum inside you.”

“fucking do it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. get me fucking pregnant art.”

that was all he needed. he breathed into your lips and cried out, long steady body shuddering like a leaf. he held you close, pressing his weight on top of your till he could feel the fat of your breasts move around his chest. cum, thick and milky white, shot deep into your cunt, which even now gripped him tighter than ever. so much of it too. his meaty balls tweaked as their contents leaked into where they were always supposed to go.

your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, parting your lips in a silent scream.

his cock had not moved an inch from where it rested fully buried in your pussy. it was wet. it would spill out once he removed himself. it needed to stay inside.

he pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion and contentedness. you didn’t even think about what art had just done. you didn’t even realise he had done anything. he was just doing what you needed him to do.

you needed him. forever.

[distantdarlings]

OUT OF IT // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus

(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)

- - -

The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.

You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.

After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.

You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.

A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.

Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.

You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.

A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.

“How was your day, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.

“It was good. What about yours?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.

You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.

“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.

You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.

“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.

“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.

It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.

“Hello, friends!”

The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.

“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.

“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.

Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.

You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.

***

That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.

Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.

You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.

***

The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.

And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.

You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.

“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.

“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.

Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.

“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.

His touch against you was almost too much to bear.

You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.

These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.

You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.

You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.

Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.

Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.

Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.

You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.

You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.

A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.

Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.

Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.

“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.

“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”

His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.

He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.

“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.

His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.

“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.

Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.

“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.

What a stupid thing to ask.

“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.

“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”

Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.

He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.

His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.

Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.

“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.

At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.

His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.

After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.

“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.

With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.

With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.

His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.

His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.

With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.

A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.

His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.

As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.

“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.

“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.

The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.

He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.

His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.

Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.

His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.

He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.

“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.

The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.

Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.

With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.

He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.

Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.

If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.

He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.

He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.

Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.

There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.

When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.

The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.

Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.

When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.

He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.

One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.

It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.

The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.

With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.

And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.

Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.

As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.

He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.

“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”

He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.

He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.

“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.

“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.

“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.

“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.

“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.

“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.

“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”

“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”

He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.

One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout , @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33 , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @abaker74, @ilovehotmenandwoman, @kissesbyarabella, @synicaljah (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a DM! Thanks!)

[nathaslosthershit]

Audacity of Man (CL16)

Summary: Charles was never anything but a compassionate and wonderfully loving boyfriend. You always used to brag about how attentive he was... I guess this is karma? Warnings: suggestive, I call Frédéric Vasseur a cockblock sorry. Part 2: Stupidly Charming

You had flour in your hair and on your clothes. You had even gotten some in your eye, that was fun, so your eyes were red and puffy from trying to aggressively wash it out. There was dried batter everywhere, and you sweat so much you probably stunk. 

Oh the things one does for love. 

It still had been worth it. A beautiful breakfast was laid out on a serving tray, ready to be brought to the beautiful monegasque in your bed.

It was a miracle that Charles hadn’t woken up with all the noise you had made in the kitchen. As you crept into the dark room, you could hear his soft snores as he slept on his stomach, giving you a full view of his back, full of scratches from previous activities. 

With the meal set down on the nightstand, you genty combed through his messy hair, trying to wake him up as nicely as possible.

“Charlie? Baby, I made you something.” He didn’t wake up. “Honey?” your voice started to get slightly louder. “Charles.” You shook him now, but he was still sleeping soundly. “Leclerc!” you yelled, clapping your hands right next to his ear. 

This did the trick. He immediately sat up in bed, reaching for the baseball bat next to his side of the bed he swears he needs in case of an intruder. Luckily, you had thought ahead to move it before you startled him into waking up. 

“Ahhh my love, why would you do that to me?” He asked once he realized what, or rather who, had woken him up.

“Charlie, I tried multiple times to wake you up nicely, you slept like the dead. And I spent all this time making you breakfast, I wasn’t going to let it get cold by waiting until you decided to wake up.” You teased. How could you be mad when even after being scared half to death, evidence of last night still marking his skin, and with the worst case of bed head, he was unfairly beautiful. 

His eyes softened when he saw the meal you had made, and darkened when he saw the messy tank top and underwear you threw on to make him said meal.

It was you who got startled this time when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto the bed, not so gracefully flipping you over so he was on top. 

He kissed you then, softly, despite the look in his eyes, and evidence below his waist, that told you what he wanted to do was not as soft as he was being. 

“You are too good to me,” He mumbled into your neck, instantly finding the sweet spot he knew all too well, “What have I done to deserve such a thing?” you giggled at that, then moaned as he attached his lips to the pulse point on your neck. 

“Charles, what had you expected? Me to not wake you up like this? I would have thought youd have gotten used to it by now.” it was a tradition, every anniversary you would wake him up with breakfast in bed, he would leave the meal untouched as he did other things to you, then when you had tired yourselves out, he’d insist you share the cold breakfast together. As he usually had to wake up before you for work or training, he'd be the one making or buying you breakfast, so it was nice when you got the chance to give him the same treatment. 

Just when he was about to make good on that tradition, his phone rang, successfully cockblocking him for the moment. 

He groaned when he saw the caller ID, “c’est Frédéric,” he reasoned as he picked up the call. He couldn’t really ghost his team principal so he could get laid. As he sat up, speaking quickly to the man, he reached over to grab a strawberry, holding it out for you to eat. Too busy admiring the sight, you hadn’t listened to the conversation, not that you could have really understood much of the inhumanly fast french he spoke with Vasseur. You did catch it when he groaned again as he hung up.

“He asked if I could come in to test something on the sim.” He said. You could tell it was more than a request, as someone else on the team would have called if he had an actual choice. Ferrari was too good, they knew Charles couldn’t say no to his team principal, even though he wanted to so badly. 

“When do you have to leave?”

“I should head out in about an hour… I’m sorry, Bijou.”

“It is alright, but we still have time to continue…” You said, a little bashful at the implication. He just smiled and started where you two had left off. 

Walking Charles to the door, you softly kissed him goodbye as you tried to tame his still damp hair from your shared shower. 

“I will be back a bit before dinner, think about what you want and I can order it.” This confused you. As tradition went, you’d cook a meal together and open a far too expensive bottle of wine you would finish far too fast, then exchange far too expensive gifts after you both agreed not to get each other anything. 

“I thought we were cooking tonight?”

He stilled, but I couldn’t see his face as he grabbed his bag. “I didn’t know you wanted to, my love. I will probably be too tired once I get home, can’t we just get take out and cook another night if you want to?” 

He didn’t remember. It suddenly hit you then. That's why he asked what he did to deserve breakfast in bed, he wasn’t being cute, he was genuinely asking. He also hadn’t said anything about your anniversary. Not this morning, not in the past few days. You had talked about it, or you thought you had, but he was weird during those conversations too. You remembered a conversation from two days ago, one where you had said him having off today was an amazing coincidence. He had asked why, and you had written it off, you both had work on your anniversary plenty of times in the past, you couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had the full day off. You had answered ‘so we could have more time to make it a special day’ and he had dropped the topic. 

There was a growing knot in your stomach as he kissed you on the cheek before he left. You didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, so you just let him go.

Part 2

[fatkish]

Hashira boys & Muzan reacting to their s/o asking to pamper them for a day

You had planned a full day of pampering for your man. This day included a full facial, a relaxing bath, a full body massage, a pedicure and manicure for your man. You planned to pamper and care for them the entire day. So you asked them and after some convincing, your man relented and let you do as you please. You started off the day with serving him breakfast. After that you had him sit back and relax as you had him soak his feet in hot water. While he soaked his feet, you started on his face by tying his hair back out of his face. You began to clean his face with a cleanser and gently wiped it clean with a hot towel. After you cleaned it you applied a toner.

After that you applied a moisturizing sheet mask. While you waited for the sheet mask, you began to work on his feet. Using an exfoliator, you removed the calluses and dead skin. You then trimmed and shaped his toenails. To finish up with his feet you massaged a lotion into his feet. Despite his previous reluctance, you could hear him groaning in satisfaction. Once the face mask was done you removed it and applied a moisturizer to his face. You massaged the moisturizer into his skin.

After that you brought him to the bathroom and ran a hot bath for him. Once the water was ready, he got in and you gently began to wash his hair. You raked your finger through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you applied shampoo. You gently raked and combed it through his hair. You had him lean forward as you rinsed it. After that you applied a conditioning hair mask. While the hair mask sat, you gently began to clip and shape his finger nails. You applied a soft exfoliate to his hands and massaged them. Once his hands were done you rinsed his hair. After drying his hair you brought him to the living room.

You then laid down a soft towel and a pillow and had him remove his clothes and lay face down on the towel. You sat on his butt and applied some moisturizing lotion and began to massage his back and shoulders. You rubbed deep into each knot in his muscles and forced them to release their tension. He moaned while you did this. As you moved along his back you massaged his shoulders, neck and arms. After that you massaged his lower back and legs. He groaned and felt completely relaxed. After the massage, you brought him food and told him to just relax.

Muzan:

Originally he was against the idea since he thought it was too feminine but after much begging he finally agreed. He was surprised to have enjoyed it. His favorite part was the full body massage as well as when you washed his hair. He plans to make you pamper him more often and make it a regular thing.

Tengen:

When you asked to pamper him he immediately said yes. He loves every bit of it. He has to admit that his favorite part was the whole body massage. It did get him pretty excited which he didn’t try to hide. He asked if you would pamper his cock too. Since you pampered him he plans to return the favor by making you see stars

Kyojuro:

He didn’t really know what you meant when you asked to pamper him. You explained it throughly and he said that if it makes you happy then he’ll gladly do it. He questioned everything you did and why you did it. He very much enjoyed having you wash his hair. When you told him some of the products where honey based like the honey sheet mask and the honey enriched conditioning hair mask, he asked if he could eat it. He was eager and curious the whole time and afterwards demanded that you now let him pamper you

Gyomei:

Was stunned when you asked him to let you pamper him. He told you you didn’t have to do it but you insisted that you wanted to pamper him, so he let you. The entire time you pampered him he kept telling you that it wasn’t necessary to which you just smiled and giggled telling him that you just want to spoil him since you love him so much and you want to express how much you love him. He was moved to tears and after a bit of consoling him, you were able to continue. His favorite part was the foot massage and back massage. He plans to pay you back and pamper you

Sanemi:

Boy was like the f-ck? He though it was too girly and straight up refused. He gave in when you started crying. He grumbled and huffed at everything but eventually relaxed. He won’t admit it but he loves having his hair washed and he loved having his hands and feet massaged. He fell asleep during the full body massage. When he woke up he mumbled a thanks. He plans to make it up to you.

[bringmeanangel]

Struggling

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner and Reader

Tags/warning: gentle Dom Aaron Hotchner, spanking. Crying. Hugging. Use of good girl. Non-sexual submission. Caring Aaron Hotchner. Mildly proofread

Synopsis: you struggle to take care of yourself from time to time and Aaron steps in and reminds you.

You got up and tried to write, but your brain felt foggy. You wrote some things, but then you got up and turned to watching tv. You didn't eat all day, you had coffee, but that was it.

Finally you went to your friend's house. You two had dinner and made cheesecake. Then you watched two episodes of a reality show and went home.

When you got home, Aaron was there.

"Hey sweetheart" Aaron said, kissing you. "Did you have fun?" he combed his fingers through your hair and you sighed at his touch. 

"I did have fun. There's cheesecake for you" you smiled.

"Ooh" he said. He noticed that you looked a bit tired. "What's wrong, baby?" He kissed your forehead.

"Mmm, nothing. Just the dinner was the first thing I ate today." 

Aaron sighed, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. He looked at you sternly.

"Sweetheart. That's not good. You know you need to eat." 

"I did" you whispered

"Only dinner isn't healthy. Over my knee." He soothed, cupping your cheek.

"Seriously?" You said and his eyes softened. 

"Yes. We made a deal. You need to learn to properly take care of yourself or ask for help when you can't. When you're struggling to do that you will be disciplined." 

Aaron was always a gentle dom, except when you asked him to be a bit rough. He was always careful with his words.

He always said disciplined instead of punishment. He never used the word "fail" for describing something you struggle with.

He knew you tried your hardest and some days, like today, were more challenging for you.

He led you over to the couch and sat down. Aaron undid your jeans, pulling them and your underwear to your knees.

"I'm not mad, honey. I know you try. This is just to remind you to try a little harder or..."

"Or ask for help" you whispered looking down.

"Good girl" he praised.

He helped you over his knee and hooked a leg over yours to keep you in place.

He rested a hand on your lower back, Aaron's other hand went to massage your neck a few times helping you relax.

"Eleven sound fair?" You knew he wasn't really asking. "Here we go."

A sharp hard smack was brought to your right butt cheek. You gasped and braced yourself for the next one.

Each were firm and sharp. Alternating sides. He didn't give you a break. He knew not to drag this out

You yelped at the last one. It was harder than the other ones. You hadn't even noticed you were crying.

"Good girl" he praised, helping you up. 

He pulled your pants up and you knelt between his legs. 

"You need to eat. You need to take better care of yourself." 

"But-" you started and he gripped your chin.

"Do. Not. Argue with me" he said and you nodded. "Good girl. Come on baby, let's get you in comfy clothes" Aaron helped you stand up.

"M'sorry" you mumbled and he cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. 

"I worry about you, honey." He whispered, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You nodded, sniffing a bit. Aaron reached up and wiped your tears. You wrapped your arms under his and pressed yourself close to him.

Aaron rubbed a hand up and down your back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, honey." he soothed.

Aaron lifted you up and carried you to get changed.

[n-s4kayaky]

𝔹𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕪 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤! (ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 + 𝕊𝔽𝕎)

warnings: Mentions of female reader, not safe for under 18! (The Buggy that I am going to use for these headcanons can be either from LA or Anime.)

a/n:  I love making headcanons about characters I love, so here are a few ideas about Buggy!

Soooo I think we all think the same thing, which is that this man's body hair is the same color as his head hair. I think he takes good care of it, meaning he trims it and doesn't let it get too wild. I see that he has some hair on his chest, forearms, and what I like the most, the happy trail ;)

Speaking of hair, Buggy takes VERY good care of his long blue hair. I'm sure this man has a private shower full of all kinds of shampoos, conditioners, hair nutrition, etc. Besides taking care of it, he LOVES to have it combed, especially if it's by you. I can imagine him asking you to comb his hair after a hard day of work where his crew has pushed him to his limits. He'll sit on the bed with his back to you and let his hair down so you can comb it. He'll LITERALLY melt under your hands as you brush his long and silky hair, and don't even get me started if you massage his scalp.

I think that Buggy HAS to have some tattoo, such as a skull with clown details. The most likely place I see the tattoo is on his back or biceps

OH MY GOD, THIS MAN HAS A DAD BOD AND NO ONE CAN ARGUE WITH ME. He has muscular and well-worked biceps but also has a cute dad bod. Why does he have it? Easy, I explain it below

Well, Buggy surely celebrates ABSOLUTELY everything, I mean, any little thing is celebrated with food and drink. Did they rob a village? It's celebrated that same night. Did a show go well? It's celebrated that same night. He loves to eat and drink, I see it in him, especially if there's some celebration involved.

Continuing with the hair topic and the fact that he likes you to comb his hair, it adds that he loves you to do different hairstyles. Would you like to make him a ponytail? "Go ahead, darling!" A braid maybe? "All yours, sweet cheeks." How about curling his hair? "I love it, doll!"

I feel that once Buggy falls in love with you, he becomes COMPLETELY obsessed, I'm not kidding. Buggy will be with you most of the day, or rather take you anywhere so that he can be with you. Due to his insecurities about his nose, he is VERY jealous. I can perfectly see him appearing behind you in a few seconds, putting his hands on your waist and kissing your neck while looking challengingly at the other man. Buggy has arrived and is marking his territory, which is you.

Buggy is the type of partner who ADORES you, I literally think he will treat you as if you were a goddess or some kind of deity to him, and let's not talk about how he would react if you adored him just like he does to you.

Obviously, this man will make thousands and thousands of sexual jokes in any situation, no matter what is happening. He can tell you while eating, while alone in his office, or while you are helping with an essay for his show. He loves to see how nervous you get with his words

Buggy is someone who likes to give nicknames, especially to you if you have a romantic relationship with him. Even before it's officially something, he probably gave you affectionate nicknames like "Honey," "Doll," "Dear," "Sweet Cheeks," etc. I don't know if I'm correct, I just read this, but supposedly each OP character has a nationality assigned by Oda, and if I'm correct, Buggy is French. Soooo, it's possible that he will call you some affectionate nickname in French, something like "Mon chéri," "Ma chérie," "Mon coeur" (Sorry to French speakers if any of this is mistranslated). He will probably also tell you in great detail in French how he's going to fuck and destroy you, but just laugh when you see your confused face because you don't understand.

He loves cuddles, he loves being in your arms and feeling your beautiful hands give him love and cuddles on his face, hair, and body. He sleeps snuggled up next to you, and every chance he gets, he hugs you and presses you against his body to feel its warmth. He simply adores you and adores every part of you with all his soul

I am sure that he spoils you in more than one way. If you are part of the shows, you will be the first to receive words of affirmation from him. He won't stop telling you how incredible you were, how good you were, and that you are undoubtedly the star of the show (behind him, clearly). While he showers you with affection, he won't stop yelling at and scolding others who have been in the show for the slightest mistake. Apart from that, he will give you anything valuable or expensive, from jewelry, clothing, costumes for the shows, shoes, lingerie, to makeup and anything else that comes to mind or you ask for. He is a captain and you are his little and beautiful partner, obviously he has to give you everything, no matter how expensive it is, and take care of you.

I see him as VERY protective, and apart from that, thanks to jealousy, he cares a lot about you. He will be attentive at all times. If you feel a little unwell, he will quickly be shouting and grumbling for a doctor to attend to you. If you get hurt, he will pick you up and be glued to you at all times. He won't leave you alone for a second.

I think a lot about how people smell, and from my point of view, I think Buggy would smell like a mixture of ash because of his cannons, saltwater, whiskey or alcohol in general, a touch of wood, and a slight hint of his body musk.

Well, I think that Buggy loves to eat his partner, he loves the idea of your thighs pressed around his head while he has his tongue deeply buried between your wet folds. He will drink from your excitement as if it were the best drink ever created by man, he will always look for an excuse to eat you. If he could, he would simply feed on your excitement and could be eating you for a whole day. More than once he has asked you to sit on his face and you have agreed, but always with that fear of suffocating him, he always responds with "Darling, if I have to die, I would be more than honored and satisfied to die suffocated thanks to your beautiful thighs and with my tongue full of your delicious wetness." Eventually, if you are sitting on his face while he eats you, you will always keep your hips a little afloat to avoid sitting completely, to which Buggy will take your thighs and force you to sit completely.

I think we all know that this man uses his Chop Chop power with you in quite sinful ways, he will easily detach his cock from his body and choke you with it, letting you feel how it fills your throat and how his balls hit your chin while saliva drips from your mouth, staining everything. Your mouth won't be the only thing he fills, he will bury himself deeply in your wet vagina and fuck you while he watches you being fucked with his own cock just a few centimeters away from you. One day he may wake you up by fucking you and when he finishes, he will leave his cock buried in you for the whole day, using it to prevent his precious semen from dripping out of your beautiful pussy.

He releases a lot, but that LOT of cum, he will fill you with a good load and you will feel how he drips all day from inside you (Unless his cock is being used as a plug so that doesn't happen) When he cums in your throat you always have to swallow little by little to avoid choking, and believe me, When you start swallowing you think you're never going to finish

He loves to brand you, he has to proclaim you as his own, so he'll leave hickeys along your neck and collarbone, in plain sight for anyone. Apart from bites and hickeys he loves to spank you, he loves to see your cute red and burning butt, full of marks on the palm of his hand due to his spanking. Obviously, because of his love of eating you, you'll have red thighs thanks to his face paint; but Buggy won't let you clean them, what's more, he'll let you wear a short skirt that day so that everyone can see the marks of his makeup on your cute thighs

I think it's a bit Voyeur, I mean he loves shows, especially if it's about you! I can see him sneaking into the room you're in and every time he catches you masturbating he falls silent as he watches you, feeling his cock harden under his pants at the sight. He will also ask you to voluntarily masturbate in front of him more than once, standing in front of you in a chair while his eyes do not leave your body and his hands separate from him to caress your soft skin

He curses a lot during sex, while he's fucking you hard against any surface near you he'll be whispering all kinds of lustful things like "My little slut… Always pleasing me so well." "I adore this greedy little pussy you have, so tight and always sucking me so hard" "Fuck, you love to please your captain, isn't that my sweet little slut?" "Look how your pussy drips because of me, so adorable..".

During kissing I feel like he's drooling a lot, you always fill each other with saliva during a nice hot make-out session, having your lips moist as well as your chins while half of Buggy's lip makeup has smudged and smudged your whole face

If at any point while he is eating strips of his hair he goes completely wild, he will attack your pussy mercilessly and rip you out of you at least more than 4 orgasms in a row, all in order to get you to pull his hair again

He loves to overstimulate you, loves to see how you turn into a small babbling mass between his hands and how you can't think about anything other than him or his cock. Love to see your thighs trembling and filled with both fluids mixed together, your clever little mouth nothing but meowing and moaning as you spew incoherently and drool

This man has to have at least a slight kink towards the knife set. He will always ask you beforehand if you are okay with it and will put a word of security; But he'll love being able to run the cold steel of his daggers across your soft skin, past your stiff nipples until delicately fiddling with your. It will leave some scratches, not very deep, only small marks, unless you ask it to be harder, in that case it will create small cuts and if it has the opportunity it will make its initial on your soft skin with the help of its dagger

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 24.

YOU VOTED FOR A WHOLESOME FAMILY CHRISTMAS DINNER ! Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW - None! Enjoy your first Christmas together ♡ (English is not my native language)

Summary: Imagine Dean at your family Christmas dinner. (Spoiler: It's chaos and lots of adorable fluff)

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: Not me skipping prompts to post in time for Christmas. (I'll post the remaining ones over time). Also, I decided to go for a family dinner at reader's place because I've already seen so many absolutely wholesome bunker-family christmas!

24th Dec. - "Our Baby"

Dean’s genuinely nervous about this entire family dinner business. He’s not used to it and he’s secretly terrified that he’ll screw up (He plays it cool though, masking it with his usual bravado “Honey, I hunt vamps for breakfast, I think I can deal with some rug rats and a bunch of aunties and grannies.”)

You get dragged under the mistletoe at least ten times, just so he can pull you into a deep, passionate kiss

Dean and you make up a fake story about how you met, and try to sell it to your family (he’s playing the mechanic as always)

Every time your hair finally has been combed to a presentable look, Dean swoops in and ruffles it again (‘cuz annoying you is just his way of saying I love you ♡)

Dean, your dad and your uncle try to chop up the massive frozen turkey which won’t fit into the oven, while everyone else watches them swear and work through every knife and meat cleaver the kitchen has to offer (it ends up with Dean using a chainsaw - cutting through the frozen body with uncannily well practise as your dad remarks impressed (and to be honest a bit freaked))

Dean rolls back his sleeves and shoots you a discreet, knowing wink before he starts to hack the poor frozen bird into pieces

Whenever he can, he holds your hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb (to secretly calm his nerves)

He gives you a light, teasing push whenever you say something cheeky, meanwhile he likes to poke fun at your annoying cousin and enjoys how he can get them all riled up

Dean sneaks his arm under the tablecloth to place a hand on your thigh during dinner (and you almost choke on the meat one time when he teasingly cups you right between the legs)

He pulls you away from the family and into a quiet corner in the house, where he can press you up against the wall and kiss you senseless

You laugh at Dean as your little niece tries to climb onto his lap and he looks at you helpless (Once she's perched on his knee, he gives you a mock-annoyed side glance and quips, “Damn rug rats. We're never gettin' one of those.” But his proud smile betrays him)

The amount of times your stuck-up aunt yells “language!” across the table at Dean (And Dean savouring every time he manages to drive her up the wall)

You swat Dean’s hand away every time he attempts to steal food off your plate (He snaps at you offended, "C'mon! That meat's gonna grow legs by the time you touch it!" "It's been 5 minutes, Dean.")

You frantically try to keep Dean from starting a drunken fight by stuffing more turkey in his mouth (which just leads to an eating contest - which Dean wins, of course)

Dean and your grandpa suddenly disappear from the dinner table (Dean was getting roped into helping your grandpa with fixing his old car in the garage)

Dean tugs you by the hand to sneak away after dinner, dragging you into the bathroom to make out with you against the sink

He accidentally calls out your mom’s name while you’re in the middle of some frisky business (Dean goes crimson red, but thankfully you burst out laughing)

You try and succeed to get Dean to wear one of those awful Christmas sweaters your grandmother knit (You bribe him with pie. “I want an entire pie. Not a meager slice. Not cake. Pie. Nuthin’ less.” )

At the family photo session Dean feels a bit lost and awkward. He swiftly pulls you in front of him so he can rest his chin on your head and you can discreetly stroke his arms wrapped around your waist

You notice how Dean silently mouths the lyrics of Zep's 'Ramble On' next to you (Because he's not used to singing carols)

Dean and you steal wine in the middle of the night and get drunk on the terrace (You end up in an intense snowball fight and Dean tackling you off the terrace into a heap of snow)

You tipsily try to teach Dean how to dance when you're alone but he trips over his own two feet, which makes you trip over his feet, which leads to you both crashing into the Christmas tree your aunt had spent so much money on (You two spend the next 2 hours desperately trying to fix the damn tree before your family returns from church)

Once everyone opens their presents, Dean gently pulls you onto his lap and tells you to close your eyes. His hand disappears in his jackets pocket and moments later pushes a small object into your hands on your lap. “’Kay you can look now, honey.” he says, unusually nervous, his chin resting on your shoulder. You hold a small, palm-sized, wooden box in your hand, handmade by Dean. You push it open and your eyes widen, “Wait- are those?” You look from the gift up to Dean, mouth hanging open, “Baby’s keys?” “Yep.” He grins, “I figured it was time for you to take her for a spin. Y’know… ” His arms wrap tightly around your stomach as he pulls you further back against his chest to nuzzle his nose against the side of your face, his voice dropping to a half-whisper, “She’s our Baby now.”

Dean and you sneak out to take a drive, Dean taking shotgun while he watches you carefully run your hands along the steering wheel like he entrusted you with his most valuable possession. His face softens and even if he can’t put it in words, he’s come to realize that his most valuable possession will always be you.

Extras:

Your 5 year old nephew beams across the room, "Mummy, uncle Dean gave me a balloon!" You blink at Dean in surprise and confusion, "You gave Tim a balloon?" Dean leans back in his chair and frowns, "What? No? The hell would I-" his eyes widen and his hands move back to frantically pat down his jeans back-pockets, "Shit - Damn rug rat-" He's cut short by your cousin's appalled screams in the background, seconds later you both scramble for cover while a giggling Timmy runs around the living room with an inflated XL condom in his hands.

For some reason your cousin keeps shoving her baby into Dean’s arms, gushing all over him, “Isn’t he the cutest? Hold him, it’s your turn,” she chirps cheerfully. “I-” Dean is taken off guard and awkwardly accepts the kid. He takes on a look of panic as he stares down at it before he shoots you a death glance that says: “help me”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[deezxwendys]

Head cannons for Todd Anderson- SFW and NSFW

Starting off soft with SFW

Definitely MELTS when he catches you sneaking glances at him during class. Like if the teacher is drilling on about some boring homework assignment, and you happen to look at him, he will literally crumble (in a good way). It brightens his mood because here he was listening to the teacher babble on and on, and then all of a sudden, his stomach flocks with butterflies all because of you.

Loves writing you little love notes and sticking them in your locker between classes. Like he’ll write them in his classes when he’s bored and thinking about you, and then drop them off at your locker and wait for you behind a corner to see your reaction

ABSOLUTELY LOVES HAVING HIS HAIR PLAYED WITH in an innocent way but also sometimes…😏 giving it a little tug does something to him but that’s something that belongs down below. Anyway, it’s one of his favorite ways of spending time with you. He loves to lay in your lap and feel your fingers softly combing through his hair talking to him about your day. Sometimes, most of the time, he ends up falling asleep because he’s so relaxed and comfortable with you

He’s more out going around you than he is with the other boys because he knows you wouldn’t do anything to make him feel different

He gives you book and poem recommendations 😇 this man loves some Whitman

If he’s having trouble sleeping, he calls you up and asks you to sneak into his dorm because again, you just calm him down. He feels tired around you a lot because he’s relaxed around you.

Low-key hates scary movies, so if you guys are watching one, he’s always cuddled up to you, and clinging onto you during every jumps-care or slight change in music.

Will let you do his makeup if you ask really nicely

Likes being called pet names or names of affection like “baby” and “sweetheart” sometimes you let a “honey” slip by too once or twice

Like’s having his face held when you kiss him. Whether you’re kissing him on the head, lips, or cheek, he loves when you softly grab his face.

Has a secret sketching talent, and draws you when you guys hangout. If the conversation has died out, instead of awkwardly sitting there, he pulls out his sketchbook and draws you. Sometimes he adds color to these sketches and gives it to you. He absolutely melts when he walks into your dorm and sees that you have hung up his most recent sketch, or even framed it.

Definitely a cuddle bug. So please hold THE FUCK out that bitch😍. He low-key loves to be the little spoon and feels safe when you have him wrapped around your arms. In fact when you guys get up in the morning after spending the night he’ll protest “five more minutes…” He’s just that comfortable around you and feels safe in your embrace.

Reads to you. Yes, just yes

NSFW

I foreshadowed a bit in the SFW up there with the hair pulling…yeah…Need I explain more?

I guess I will ^ if you guys are heavily making out and you happen to run your hands through his hair, his mind immediately goes blank and anticipates the eventual hair tug from you. When he receives said hair tug, he becomes a mess. He’ll moan into the kiss and his legs will turn into putty so if you’re standing up, his balance will fly out of the window

Was very shy the first time you guys…you know…But once he realized that it was a safe environment with you and that you wanted it to be a memorable experience, he came out of his shell and it was magical

Very inexperienced and was only with one other person before you (Neil) (I’m kidding, or am I?😉) So he has done it, but not as good as it was with you. You kind of had to show him how to touch you and what felt good where, but he got the hang of it eventually because he’s a fast learner

Speaking of fast learning, he wanted to learn how to eat you out so he could reciprocate the pleasure you brought to him. He had never done it before, so when he was in between your legs he was so nervous that he was going to do something that hurt you instead of make you feel good. You reassured him that he was doing a good job, and to just not focus on it too much. So he took your advice and when he did…Oh Lord the things he did with his tongue. For someone who had never done that before, it was like he knew the ins and outs of you and his mouth perfectly fit on you. He kissed and sucked on your clit passionately and would look up at you occasionally for validation with those big blue puppy dog eyes of his and you would give it to him alright 😉 you ran your fingers through his hair and he moaned into your pussy as he ate you out and was simultaneously grinding his hips into the bed—he was really enjoying himself.😛

Loves when you’re on top and taking the lead

Still gets very flustered when you straddle his lap as if you guys haven’t done that a million times before, it’s adorable

I’m pleased to inform you that this angel WHIMPERS. Like I’m talking full on high pitched, almost pornographic whines. His breathing gets all heavy and he tries to bite his lip to stifle the noises but that fails every-time

Was kind of embarrassed the first time he let out a noise like that because he thought you would view him as less “manly” That was not the case however, and you wasted no time explaining to him that you found it extremely attractive and encouraged him to not be shy😏

Kissing him on his neck immediately turns him on

Has a sweet spot right about the crook of his neck and when you kiss on it he lets out the loudest whines ever

Loves getting AND giving hickeys

[janinemel]

Egon Spengler Relationship Headcanons

author’s note: i did implied nsfw for this but decided last minute not to add them bc i personally cannot see egon in such things, if that makes sense. so no nsfw hcs. (again, this is a personal opinion and decision. don’t feel discourage by this.)

Pairings: Egon Spengler x reader (ROMANTIC)

Warnings: none (?)

Not proofread

General HCs

•You met Egon through Ray, he introduced you two and you instantly had an interest in the scientist.

• After awhile, Egon began to feel more comfortable with you and this blossomed into a friendship.

• You listened to his theories and watched him work long nights. You brought him coffee, occasionally sweets when he requested.

• Time went on, you fell in love with him and it became a little hard to hide it because you two were always together. Little bumps, skin contact, light touching, you always felt your face warm up and your stomach did flips.

• Ray knew you liked Egon but you were too embarrassed to admit it. He was happy to hear this because he knew Egon had a thing for you as well.

• Eventually things fell into place with Ray’s help and Egon confessed to you during one of your long nights. This caught you by surprise and you thought he was just tired but he assured you he was being serious. You just smiled at him and gave him a date before leaving for the night.

• After that date, came along many other dates and you both became official. You loved Egon so much and it came easy when talking.

• Egon was never the one for physical touch so you always asked him if it was okay to hug him or hold his hand.

• One night where he was staying at your apartment and he had brought his work along, his hand found yours as you read a book. You felt yourself smile a bit because it felt like a natural reflex.

• Egon slowly began to move into your apartment, first came a few pairs of clothes, then his toothbrush and comb, then his books, then eventually you asked him to move in with you. He only said,”I thought I already did.”

• You often wore his shirts to bed, he didn’t mind because he found it sweet. Just as long as it wasn’t his important shirts.

• Whenever Egon came home late because of work, he would find you laid out on the couch. He hated that you would stay up just for him and he reminded himself to have a talk with you.

• Egon was a lover of sweets but you had to remind him to drink his water and eat healthy sometimes. Occasionally, you would spoil him by getting him his favourite chocolate bars but that’s pretty much it. You wanted a boyfriend for a long time, not a short time.

• He’s not the one for nicknames but he didn’t mind anyone giving him them. You often called him honey or love. He can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t like those nicknames which are meant for him only.

• Your first kiss, you both were tired but he still had work to do. When he told you it was okay if you wanted to go to bed. You just looked at him and leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t move and just let you kiss him. You told him it was time for bed, he just asked you to do it again. You gave him another kiss and he kissed back. After that, you asked him if it was now time for bed, he answered with a yes.

[leiascully]

Fic: The Altar Is My Hips (M, MSR)

1500 words; M for sexual situations; the POÄNG pals wondered what would happen if Mulder proposed while eating pussy and here is the result (ao3)

Scully’s flat on her back in her bed with Mulder’s face between her legs. It’s her new favorite pastime. She’s got her hands in his silky hair and his tongue flicks at her clit in a steady rhythm. She lets her back arch, pushing her mound against his face. He hums in pleasure and licks a few lazy circles that leave her moaning.

Mulder, as she had always suspected, eats pussy like it’s his calling in life. Mulder eats pussy like other people eat oysters, and with twice as much relish. Maybe it’s that full lower lip or maybe it’s his nimble tongue or maybe it’s that distinguished profile, but Scully can’t resist. His face is a saddle and she’s ready to ride. Yee-haw.

She’s had lovers before who made it feel like a chore, but it’s obvious Mulder enjoys it. He’ll eat her out for hours, given the chance, moving from her on top to him on his knees to him pinning her to the bed to various configurations of 69. He’ll strip her down or tongue her through the nicer underwear she’s started wearing. She has to fuck him between sessions just to redistribute the sensation.

Maybe it’s the seven years of blue balls, but they’ve both been insatiable since they started fucking. She can’t get enough of him. She’s fairly sure Skinner’s noticed the way she’s been staring at Mulder during meetings, partly because she keeps putting the end of her pen in her mouth. It isn’t on purpose. She’s been hungry for so long, and now she’s got a buffet spread out in front of her. Or under her. Or on top of her. She’s flexible. So to speak.

Today she’s a pillow princess and Mulder’s doing all the work. All she has to do is lie back and not think of England. She has no thoughts when Mulder spreads her thighs. Her brain is blissfully empty, filled up with sparklers and fireflies and the heat of a perfect summer evening. Mulder’s made her come so hard she forgot how to speak. She wants him so much it makes her feel stupid. When he’s inside her, she doesn’t care about anything else in the world.

He sucks her clit gently into his mouth, teasing her. Sensation prickles through her. She’s got goosebumps. The tip of his tongue swirls over her clit, and then he rubs at her clit with the flat width of his tongue until it makes her vision go blurry. He moans into her and it’s such a fucking turn-on. If she wasn’t already drenched, she’d be wet just listening to him eat her out.

She combs her fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to grab a handful. She doesn’t always resist, but this isn’t that kind of occasion. This is sweet, deliciously leisurely. He’s been taking it very slow, pausing in his ministrations to kiss his way up the ticklish inside of her thigh. She’s sure she’s got a hickey just low enough that the hem of her underwear won’t conceal it. She’s lucky she doesn’t have one just above the back of her knee. Skinner would definitely raise an eyebrow over that one.

Mulder nudges her thighs further apart, pushing her open with the breadth of his shoulders. She splays her legs wide, putting herself on display for him. He makes a happy noise and pulls a little harder at her clit. She gasps and sighs. Her blood feels like hot honey, thick and sweet and slow. Her whole body is hot and loose. Need builds in her belly, but it’s a deliberate coiling, driven by the pace of Mulder’s tongue.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been here. She doesn’t care. She only knows that her body is a pleasure garden that Mulder cultivates. She’s magic. She’s the rocking of the ocean, punctuated by glints of sharper pleasure. Her orgasm feels inevitable, even in its early stages, but she doesn’t want to rush it. She’s enjoying herself, enjoying him enjoying her.

She can feel the moment his hunger shifts. He sucks harder at her, flicks his tongue faster. He knows how to drive her to the edge. He uses the tip of his tongue to tease the exquisitely sensitive bud of nerves under her clitoral hood and she yelps. The pleasure inside her grows. It’s hungrier than before. She needs more, or different, or something.

“Your fingers,” she manages to say, and he’s pushing inside her almost before she can say it. His elegant hands were made to fuck her. She’s convinced of it, despite any evidence to the contrary. Two fingers is usually enough, but not today. She’s starving for him. She wants him everywhere inside her. If he could eat her out and fuck her at the same time, she’d do it. She’d have an orgy of Mulders, one for every orifice and one to grow on.

“More,” she says, and a third finger joins the other two, thrusting deeper into her, seeking the spot he knows will make her come undone. She loves how well he knows her, how he still studies her. His attention is intense; she’s never felt anything like it. He shifts just a little and suddenly it feels like a kiss, somehow even more intimate than before. Fuck, she loves him. She whimpers as his fingers graze the right place and he groans against her clit.

It doesn’t take long after that. Not with his fingers fucking her and his mouth insistent on her most sensitive skin and his other hand reaching up to touch her breasts. She’s tugging at his hair now. Her thighs squeeze around his ears and she isn’t trying to suffocate him, but she can’t relax. Her body is drawn tight, vibrating like a bow string. He strums his tongue across her clit and his fingers work inside her and he’s tweaking one of her nipples and she’s caressing the other and oh God, she’s coming. Her hips buck and he pins her with one arm and licks her through the waves of pleasure. She shivers over and over, as if she’s chaining one orgasm to the next to the next, until finally it’s too much and she gently pushes him away. He raises his face and rests his chin on her thigh.

“God, Mulder, that was amazing.” She can’t catch her breath.

“Marry me,” he says. His face is wet. His lips glisten. He licks at them. She can’t tell if he’s nervous or relishing the moment.

She laughs and pushes up on her elbows to look at him. “What?”

“Marry me,” he says again. There’s something in his eyes that tells her it’s not a joke, but that’s hard to believe after all his previous proposals, variously in jest or inebriated.

“Isn’t that my line, after an orgasm like that?” she asks.

He huffs and his breath tickles her thigh. “If you’re trying to let me down easy, I get it.”

“Marry you,” she says.

He nods, his chin digging into her thigh.

She looks at him for a long moment. His eyes are dark with unsatisfied desire, but he waits as patiently as if they’re at the ticket counter at the airport. She measures his face with her eyes, as if she doesn’t know it by heart. She lets her heart open, a luxury she rarely allows herself. Love suffuses her as thoroughly as pleasure did, rippling through her until she can hardly breathe. Of course it’s Mulder. It’s always been Mulder. If it could be anyone, it’s Mulder. They’ve been pledged to each other since that night in Bellefleur when she stepped into his hotel room and showed him her skin and her naked fear and he showed her his soul in return.

“Okay,” she says.

His eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. She can wear a dress, white or otherwise. She can vow in front of God and her family to have and to hold him as long as they both shall live. She can wear his ring, be his wife, honor him, obey him (under very specific circumstances). The more she thinks about the idea, the better she likes it. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will,” he says.

“Come here,” she whispers, suddenly shy, and he hauls himself up the length of her body until she can kiss him. Mulder kisses like a fairytale: true love wrapped up in the strangest mysteries. She can taste herself on his mouth and feel the rigid heat of his cock against her hip. She shifts until he’s sliding between her folds, sliding into her, rocking slowly as they kiss. They make love; there’s no other word for it. They haven’t done it like this yet, somehow, though she would have sworn they’d tried it all. He moves in her, watching her, and she feels so new and so precious. Her eyes are glossy with tears, but so are his. She kisses his eyelids and he laughs a little. Her heart flares with heat. The world has been so cruel to him. Now he’s under her protection forever.

“Marry me?” he asks again as she arches under him.

“Yes,” she says as she comes again, “yes, yes, yes,” and she knows she’ll never stop saying it.

[yxngbxkkie]

simp for me (s.c)

seeing 3racha has given me writing inspiration, and i thank them 😌 i'm super glad i finally got a good idea for changbin! i've been trying to write for him more 💓 anyway, i hope you all like this!

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

~

"What time is your soundcheck in the morning?" You ask Changbin, your boyfriend of three years.

He glances at you through the mirror in the hotel room. "It's at ten," Changbin mentions while turning to face you.

The two of you smile at each other, your heart swelling in your chest. "You're so handsome, Changbinnie," you boast, sitting up from the king-sized bed.

"And you're so pretty, baby," he smiles shyly, walking over to where you're sitting. You spread your legs so he can stand between them.

"Just pretty?" You joke with him, laying your hands against his outer thighs. Changbin rolls his eyes at you beforehand, setting his hands on your cheeks.

"Beyond pretty, baby. Ethereal," he mentions and kisses your lips quickly. Your cheeks flush at his compliment, smiling up at him. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course, honey," you giggle, leaning forward to rest your head against his stomach. "I knew you were gonna ask anyway."

Changbin combs his fingers through your hair, a giggle escaping his lips. "Oh, yeah? And, how'd you know?" He asks you, and you shift your head so you can look at him.

"Because you're a simp for me," you giggle, moving your hands to grab a hold of his.

"I hate you so much," he laughs, shaking his head. A sigh leaves his lips shortly after before making eye contact with you again. "But, you're so right."

"I love you too," you laugh as you intertwine your fingers with his.

Changbin squeezes your hand in his, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head. "Do you wanna go get dinner?" He asks you, glancing towards the clock. "It's almost seven, and neither of us has eaten yet."

"Yeah, I'm down for dinner," you nod your head. Your boyfriend steps away from you, dropping your hands to grab his shoes. "Do you want me to invite Ji and Channie?"

He sits down beside you on the bed before putting his shoes on. "Can it just be us? I'm feeling a little selfish today," Changbin mentions with pink cheeks, his eyes darting between you and his shoes.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest, and you nod without hesitation. "I'm so in love with you, Changbin," you sigh, shaking your head at how cute he is. "Of course, it can just be us. Just a normal couple in a big city."

He smiles at you, taking your hand in his. He brings it to his lips and gently places a few kisses on the back of your hand. "So, that means I can hold your hand?" Changing asks with a large grin, feeling him squeeze your conjoined hands.

"Yes, baby," you giggle, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But, can I have my hand so I can get my shoes??"

"No," he teases, tugging your hand towards him, bringing you closer to him again.

You let your body collide with his, causing the two of you to fall back on the bed. Giggles escape both of your lips as you place your free hand on his buff chest.

"How are we going to get dinner like this, hm?" You ask him with a smile, drumming your fingertips against his clothed chest.

"Can I have a kiss?" Changbin asks you with a pout.

You scoff in disbelief and lean forward to capture his lips. The kiss doesn't last very long. You pull away before he has the chance to deepen it. A small whine comes from him after you break apart.

"Don't you want to eat, bunny?" The nickname slips from your lips, and Changbin's eyes soften.

"Bunny?" He questions, squeezing your hand.

You avert your gaze, feeling embarrassed a little. "You're just so cute… like a bunny," you whisper to him, moving away from his body.

Changbin releases your hand before wrapping an arm around your waist. He keeps you close to him as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I like it when you call me bunny," he mumbles against your skin.

"Yeah?"

He hums, planting a couple of kisses on your neck. You comb your fingers through his hair, feeling yourself getting warmer. "I like how flustered it makes you too," he giggles, pulling his head back.

You playfully roll your eyes, grinning. "Of course you do," you giggle, cupping his cheek.

"Go get your shoes. I'm gonna treat you tonight," Changbin mentions while patting your hip.

"Such a romantic," you beam and move your hand to cup his chin, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before getting off of the bed.

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 24 - Sub/Dom dynamics

A/N: This one has been kicking about in my drafts for ages, ever since I realised I could see Little Elvis in the photo below.

Pairing: Sub!Elvis x Dom!Reader

Word count: 1.8K

TWs: Elvis calls reader Mama, reader calls Elvis a kinda demeaning pet name, oral (both receiving), edging/orgasm denial, teasing, praise kink, little tiny bit of degredation kink.

Kinktober masterlist

Elvis is reading fan mail, sprawled out on the sofa with a pile of envelopes next to him. Each letter is sprayed with perfume and it seems like great clouds of it come out when he tears them open. He reads the contents and then rips them into tiny pieces so no-one else gets a chance to read them. As far as he’s concerned, they’re for his eyes only.

He’s a couple of letters in when the door opens and he looks up to see you standing there.

“Oh hi, honey.”

You look over at him, lying on his side on the leather couch, black trousers and a black shirt, his hair beautifully combed, his blue eyes looking at you steadily. There’s a letter in his hand, but as you step nearer you notice something else. The outline of his dick through his pants.

“Is it good?” You ask, nodding at the letter.

He frowns a little. “It’s just a fan letter honey, nothin’ special.”

You glance down at his crotch deliberately. “Nothin’ special,” you repeat.

He follows your eyes, and he immediately realises what’s happened, sitting up and tossing the letter onto the seat next to him. He rearranges himself quickly and looks back at you.

“Nothin’ at all, Mama.”

“You won’t mind if I read it then?”

His eyes go like saucers. “Uh…w-well I… I don’t usually let… I mean… no need for you to read it Mama.” He’s flushed and stuttering, just the way you like him.

“Let me sit down,” you instruct.

He stands up quickly and moves to the side so you can occupy the space on the sofa he was just sitting in. The serious look on your face makes him drop to his knees in front of you, obediently, and he looks up with those big puppy dog eyes.

“Mama, I didn’t mean to get excited. I jus’… it jus’ happened. Little Elvis, y’know, sometimes he jus’ does that and I don’t even know why…”

You fix him with a serious look and then slowly and deliberately slide your panties off under your skirt. He watches you like a hawk, waiting to see what your next move will be, inadvertently licking his lips. You pick up the letter he dropped and smooth it flat so you can read it, opening your legs wide and beckoning him closer.

“Why don’t you lick Mama whilst she reads this letter?”

He can’t say no so he doesn’t even try, leaning forward and eagerly setting to work licking your pussy as you start to read. The letter isn’t very inspiring. Declarations of undying love, mentions of measurements, some kind of poem at the end. You shrug and let it drop from your hand. He looks up, his face buried in your pussy.

“Mama’s going to look through the ones you’ve already read, whilst you make her cum.”

He nods and moans against you, setting to work with more determination now there is a clear goal set for him. He only read four or five and he knows you’ll want to cum before you finish them. Using his thumbs to spread your pussy, he pushes his tongue flat against you, making you cry out. You normally manage to hold yourself together but something about this situation is making you a little less inhibited than usual. Something about the way he is eating you like you’re his last meal. You don’t pay that much attention to the contents of the letters as his tongue darts in and out of you, and then thrusts in as far as it can go, the rest of his mouth latching on to you and sucking like his life depends on it. You toss the letter in your hand and grab his head with both hands, riding his face as you get closer and closer to achieving your high. He moans against you, sending shockwaves through your body as he sets off your orgasm, and you grip him tighter as you ride his face through it. 

Finally you let him go and he sits there, gasping for air. You flop back on the sofa, waiting to get your own breath back as pleasure buzzes through your veins. 

After a while you feel him against you, and look down to see his thighs around your delicate ankle, his dick outlined even more clearly in his pants now. He whimpers, and his big eyes look at you as your arousal shines on his chin. 

“Mama?” He shuffles against you, just short of humping your ankle. 

You look down at him and can’t help but be reminded of something. 

“What is it, puppy?”

His eyes get even bigger, if that’s possible, and he tries to think about what you just said. Puppy. Like a cute, pathetic, baby dog. If anything, it’s making him harder. 

“‘S really sore, Mama.”

“Oh, is it?” 

“Mmmm. P-please.”

“Please what, puppy?”

“Please can I cum?”

You stroke his cheek gently. He’s so cute it seems mean to torture him. But then again, when you walked in earlier he was reading letters from other girls and getting himself all excited. So he probably needs a little torture. 

“I don’t think so, puppy.”

You watch the hope on his face turn to frustration as he screws his eyes up and bites his lip, hard. 

“Pleeeeeeease? I’ll do anythin’.”

The three magic words: I’ll do anything. 

“Anything?” You ask, one eyebrow raised.

He nods solemnly. “Anythin’, Mama.”

“Fine. I’m tired of reading. Why don’t you get up here and read those letters out loud to me. If you like the letter more than what I’m doing to you, then you don’t get to cum. Understand, puppy?”

Elvis nods quickly and gets up on the couch next to you.

“Take it out.”

He fumbles with the buttons on his pants, desperately trying to get them undone as his hands shake. Eventually he manages to release his dick and it stands to attention, hard and shiny with precum. It’s hard for him not to touch himself, he wants to so much, but he tries to resist. You wrap your hand around him without moving it and tilt your head towards the pile of letters. 

“Go on.”

His trembling hands go through the same frustrating fumbling with one of the envelopes. Part of you wants to laugh and the other part wants to help him, so you settle for just giving his dick a bit of a squeeze instead. He groans. 

“D-dearest Elvis dear…” he begins, eyes flicking down the letter, trying to read it in his head before he reads it out loud. “H-how can one man be so gorgeous as you? You’re perfect.” He pauses, looking up at you awkwardly and then breathing out hard as you move your hand on him. One stroke, gathering the precum at the top and smearing it down the shaft.

“Keep going.”

“Each part of your beautiful face and your m-magnificent body is a s-sight to behold.” He glances down at your hand wrapped around his dick. “I-If you were not perfect you would still be King, the one only E-Elvis Presley.” Pausing again to groan as you stroke him twice and then stop. “There never has been a man as perfect as you before you and there never will be a man as perfect as you after you. L-l-love forever, Lucia L. Italy.” He looks up. “It’s finished, Mama. T-that’s the end.”

You grin and slowly pump him up and down, watching his face as you do it. You could let him cum now, but you’re having too much fun. You can’t stop at just one letter. 

“Read me another.”

He whines and whimpers, staring down at your hand again as it stops moving. He’s so close he can almost taste his orgasm. Fuck. He struggles to open another envelope and pulls out the next letter, full of rose petals and stinking of perfume. He glances at the contents. It’s long. 

“Mama,” he whines, eyes pleading. “‘S really sore. Don’t know if I can read another.”

You tilt your head to the side. “You said you’d do anything to cum.”

He nods, slowly, his bottom lip captured between his teeth. 

“Read it to me. You get to the end of it and I’ll let you.”

He screws his eyes shut for a moment, trying to gather courage. It’s only one side of paper. How hard can it be? Taking a deep breath, he decides to try and read it out as quickly as possible.

“D-dear Elvis. Do you believe in love at first sight? I hope you do because I fell in love with you the first time I saw you on television on the Ed Sullivan Show, when I was just a kid. I knew the first time I saw you that you were the only one for me. There was something about your eyes and the way you walked that sent chills d-down m-m-my s-spine.” He stutters as you slip your mouth over the end of his dick, his eyes rolling back in his head and his breath coming out in harsh pants, feeling your tongue lick the underside. He has to keep going. 

“I-I-I have seen lots of stars on television since I first saw you on the Ed Sullivan S-show,” he gulps, watching you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth. “B-but nobody had sent chills down my spine except for you. I guess that is the way it always will be because I doubt if I ever will again see anyone like the Elvis Presley I first saw on the Ed Sullivan Show. Frankly…ah… fuck…” he stops again, feeling the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat. 

You look up at him, eyes flashing a warning, and he clears his throat and continues, “I, uh… I haven’t seen you on t-television since I saw you on the Ed Sullivan Show. Have you changed? I h-hope not. I guess I have changed. I’m not a kid anymore. Love, Denis L., Brooklyn. Oh shit.”

His head falls back against the sofa and he moans loudly as you start to bob up and down on him. Fingers clawing at the leather sofa cushions, he screws his eyes shut as he feels his balls heavy with his release. 

“Oh fuck… mama… I’m gonna… ohhh.”

You hold his hips down to stop him bucking them and pushing himself too far down your throat as he cums messily in your mouth. Slowly moving off him, you look at his pretty, flushed face, eyes closed in post-orgasmic bliss, and smile. 

“You’re a good little puppy, aren’t you?” You tease, running a finger up his still semi-hard length and making him jolt. 

He stares at you through hooded eyes. “I hope so mama. I try to be.”

Pressing your lips against his, you stroke his cheek. “You’re my good little puppy,” you mumble against his lips. “Think you should read all your letters like this in future, hm?”

He squeaks, but he can feel his dick betraying him again already, starting to get hard. “Y-yes, Mama.”

“Good boy.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title: Fallen Leaves

Warning(s): None

Characters: Bruce Wayne and F!Reader

PROMPT in bold, credit to @ thatdammchickennugget

Song mentioned is by Wallows. I attached the link just in case you don’t know the song or the band. It doesn’t go with this story, nor does it have to be played while reading. (just like a movie)

Freshly fallen leaves crunched underneath your feet, as you walked through the park. A lot had been on your mind; a sociology test and cramming in late night study sessions, what you were going to order out, and Bruce Wayne.

All three of these things were important, but Bruce Wayne trumped them all. He was just another boy in your sociology class—until he wasn’t. A friendship had blossomed, and before you knew it, he was at your family’s home almost every night.

You had your own apartment, but came home for family dinner. Once your mom found out he was the well known Bruce Wayne, she had to have him over dinner. “Oh honey, don’t let that boy go home alone to eat! Invite him over, and invite his butler Alfred too. There’s plenty of food to go around.” She would say almost on a daily basis.

Bruce had quickly became a family favorite guest. He was more than a guest at this point; he was family. He fit in with your siblings, and your parents adored Bruce. At one point or another, his father and your father were good business partners.

But yours and Bruce’s paths had never crossed until the beginning of the semester. Then before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. Classmates to friends, friends to best friends, and now? You didn’t know what to call what the two of you had.

Things had gotten awkward, the slightest “accidental” touch of each other’s hands would send you both spiraling. You couldn’t speak for Bruce, but late night study sessions at Wayne Manor had changed. The thought of the two of you being alone in his study- near the fire, lying haphazardly across one another, made your heart race. Maybe it was just you. Maybe you were the only one who felt that way.

You continued to walk through the park clenching the sleeves of your sweater in your fists, trying to keep warm. Your thoughts were interrupted by Bruce jumping in front of you, “Boo!” With a swat of your hand, you smacked Bruce’s shoulder.

“I hate it when you do that!” You exclaimed and he handed you a hot, pumpkin spice latte that he had retrieved from a nearby coffee cart. You accepted the hot beverage, and wrapped your cold, shaky hands around the warmth of the cup.

“You’re so easy to scare. Always on edge, and always deep in thought. A penny for your thoughts?” He asked, and you blew into the small hole of the cup. ‘Not anything I can share with you’ you thought to yourself.

You took a small sip and sighed, “Just homework. Thanks for the coffee by the way, B.”

Bruce smiled as he held his own drink to his lips. “Why don’t we go to my place instead. I’m cold, and the fireplace in the study is calling my name.” He said, and you stopped dead in your tracks. “How could I sit with him the entire night without thinking of him as more than a friend?” Holy crap, you admitted it to yourself. Bruce was indeed more than just a friend. Feelings ran deep- deeper than you expected.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded, taking another drink of your coffee, trying to play it cool. He kept staring at your hair, “You’ve got a leaf in your hair…” Bruce said, and your hand raced to your hair, smoothing it out and trying to comb your fingers through your hair. “Here. Let me get it.” Bruce said as he sat his coffee on a nearby bench.

His hand rested on your shoulder, and he gently untangled the leaf out of the strands of your hair. Bruce’s face was inches away from yours.

You felt like a deer caught in head lights- your eyes stared at his lips and then up into his dark brown eyes. Bruce looked into your eyes, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear; his cool finger tips brushed your cheek, making you shiver.

“There, I got it.” He said quietly, breaking the silence. A shout of a nearby child made you both jump and back away from one another.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Did you, uh, want to come back to my place to study? We can order in a pizza or something? Alfred won’t be home tonight.”

You smiled and nodded, “Sure. Sounds fun.” But on the inside, you were freaking out.

——

The drive to Wayne Manor was quiet, and it had gotten even more quiet when the two of you had entered through the front door. Bruce shrugged his coat off and hung it on the coat rack, and you followed in suit.

It wasn’t long before Bruce called in the pizza, and the two of you were sitting on the couch studying. Your legs laid across his lap while he read the assigned reading to the chapter over Karl Marx.

A song by Wallows (Just Like a Movie) played quietly in the background, and you hummed to the music. The sound of Bruce’s pen scribble on a piece of paper made you turn your attention to him. Reading glasses were balanced on the bridge of his nose, and the pen gently tapped against his lips- he was cute when he was focused.

The sound of his voice startled you, and you quickly tore you gaze from him. “Do you mind checking the last page of my notes? I feel like I am missing something or I wrote something down wrong.” He pushed up his glasses and gave you a small smile.

“Y-yeah. I’ll compare them to my notes.” You say as you took his notebook and started skimming through the notes. On the last page, you caught what he was missing, ‘Karl Marx = conflict theory’ you said as you wrote it down on the paper. You sat the pen down on the coffee table, and handed Bruce the notebook. His eyes were on you, and he had a small smile on his face, “What? Is there something on my face?” Your hands raced to your face, and Bruce gently shook his head.

Your heart skipped a beat and his brown eyes observed you, and his fingers gently tucked the same piece of hair behind your ear. His thumb moved against your cheek, and he started inching closer to you. “Is this okay?” He whispered, his lips were ghosting over yours.

You nodded, and his bottom lip tickled yours. The tip of his nose brushed yours, and you could feel him breathe a shaky breath in. The doorbell rang, making you both jump from one another. “That must be the pizza.” Bruce said as he raced from the study. Your hands ran over you face, and you sat back on the couch trying to catch your breath. Shit. We almost kissed! Slowly, you practiced inhaling and exhaling. These were the things Bruce could do you- you forgot how to breathe when he was around.

Then panic sat in, what was going to happen when he came back in? Were the two of you going to pretend nothing happened? How awkward were things going to get? You jumped to your feet and started pacing back and forth, the thought of jumping out the window and leaving all your stuff behind did enter your mind. But before you could race over to the window, Bruce came back into the study, and before you could stop yourself, word vomit spewed from your mouth.

“Bruce there is something I have to tell you.Ihavehadfeelingsforyouforafew monthsnow and I don’t want to ignore what just almost happened.” You said quickly, and Bruce’s hands went to your face. He pulled you close to his body and pressed his lips against yours.

You sighed and relaxed against his touch; his lips felt natural against yours. Bruce’s hands went from your cheeks, down to your hips, and your hands raced up to his hair, bringing him closer to your body.

Feelings were being reciprocated, and when Bruce pulled away, all you could do was try to catch your breath. “I’ve had feelings- for you too.” He said, and all you could say was: “I’m glad I didn’t try to jump out the window.”

Bruce looked at you with a confused grin, then at the window, “You were- you were gonna jump out the window? Why?” He questioned and the two of you burst into laughter. “Because I panicked. I was scared we were going to pretend that kiss didn’t happen, and my plan was to jump out that window…” you said, and Bruce raised an eyebrow at you. “What?! It seemed like a good idea at the time!” You said and Bruce pressed another kiss to your lips.

“I’m glad you didn’t, because that window is six feet off the ground and Alfred had rose bushes planted there.” He said, and the two of you started laughing again.

By the end of the night, you were glad you didn’t jump out the window. Mainly because of the rose bush, but also because you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to kiss Bruce.

——————

I think my seasonal depression is over. I thrive in the fall months, what about you? I hope you guys enjoyed the short x reader! I am hoping to get some Halloween readers out as well!

XOXO

[kigieri]

Second Fiddle

Lando Norris × Reader

Insecurity can eat you from the inside out. Lando is experiencing pressure from all sides, communicating to his girlfriend about it, however, is another monster altogether. She will have to show him love and support and be insistent so he may talk about his problems.

A/N: This fic was written during the summer break.

This story on AO3.

He stretched and saw her in his peripheral vision. He took her in while turning his head. She stood at the door, in a breathtakingly blue dress, some glitter covering the skin that was showing, her hair nicely done. "I see I have to share you with the Sim again. Let me not turn into Kelly, will you? She may accept the Sim as her counterpart in the relationship, but I won't." Her smile was tight. She joked to cover her annoyance. "I don't think I have ever heard her complain about it seriously. She's just fine with how things are." Lando chuckled nervously. One had combing through his hair. "Yeah, Max also doesn't forget date nights." Her voice was curt. "You have enough time to get ready. We'll make it in time for the reservation." She looked pointedly at the Sim rig. "But we're talking about your work when we come back."

The door fell into its hinges behind them. Lando toed off his shoes before dumping her handbag, which he had been carrying, on the sofa and letting himself fall right on top of it. She picked up his shoes, took off her own and placed them nicely under the coat hanger. "I did not find this date that exhausting." She stepped next to the couch. His eyes raked up her legs, all the way to her face. She was smiling, as he had anticipated from her voice, and she leaned down to ruffle his hair lightly.

"It's summer break, Lando." She sat down next to his head, continuing to lightly massage his skull. "We're going on vacation in a few days and work and the Sim are still at the forefront of your mind." She turned his head upwards, so he had to look at her. He turned onto his back, manoeuvring her purse out from underneath himself and dropping it on the floor. "I know. I just want to be ready to step back into the car." She nodded. "You're second in the standings. You have won a race." She leaned down to kiss his lips. "I know you won't be satisfied until you're first, but let's enjoy the break. You can jump right back in when we are back, okay?" He nodded. "Yeah..."

He may have said he would enjoy himself but she knew his head was still in the garage. His mind racing around a circuit or analysing data even while sitting next to the pool.

The air was humid and they had enjoyed a fabulous Greek dinner, there was little better in the world for her than warm goat cheese with walnuts and honey. Now she leaned against the railing of their little balcony, overlooking the sea. Lando was inside the hotel room, sitting in front of his tablet and, even though he tried to hide it, she knew exactly what he was looking at. Time flew by while she was watching the waves. She was ripped out of her musings by arms encircling her waist.

Lando planted a kiss on her neck before laying his chin on her shoulder. "Why are you standing out here? I thought you wanted to go to bed." She nodded lightly, not looking away from the water. "Is the data different from yesterday, or the day we arrived?"

He froze for a second. "I.. ehm..." He swallowed. "They send me stuff from the factory." She hummed. "That's what I thought. Is that where your head is? While I'm trying to have a nice vacation with you?" He sighed. "I'm sorry. The second half of the season is important."

She turned around in his arms, facing him. "I know. I do not feel neglected because your focus is your work. I knew that before we started dating." She raised her hand to rake it through his hair. "I'm concerned about you because this exceeds your normal level of obsession." He could not suppress a small smile, she knew him well and that felt good. She continued after a moment. "Your head is not really there either. I know that too. You're staring off while sitting in front of the tablet, you'll get that faraway look while we're out. I want to know what that is about. I wish to help you, Lando." Her hand had come to rest on his cheek.

He had looked at her face while she spoke but now his gaze strayed to the ocean behind her. "I need to be the best I can be." She nodded. He did, however, not continue, so she spurred him on a bit. "Why Lando? To beat Max, or is there more?" Her second hand had found its place on his bicep and squeezed lightly. "I have to beat Oscar."

That was not new information to her, but she was surprised by the tone he said it in, more determined than he normally spoke about the comparison between him and his teammate. "If he is better they will favour him, no matter my standing in the championship. Webber made more than sure of that." She swallowed. "You think they're going to put him first?" His gaze returned to her eyes and, with some hesitation, he nodded.

"Oh Lando..." She let the hand from his face glide behind his head and pulled him towards herself, letting him slide into the crook of her neck. "He is a great driver and I'm sure Mark as his manager has made that contract solid as steel, but you're the face of the team, you're Zak's priority. That may not be official, but that is how it is. And yeah, Oscar may not care much for your championship, but he can't mess up his chances with the team or you if he wants your continued support."

Lando listened and stayed quiet, simply breathing her in for some time. When he stood straight again his eyes were slightly glazed. "I'm afraid I'm gonna run it into the ground. That it's not gonna be the team's fault, or Oscar's, but mine." She nodded, wiping under his eye to catch a tear. "It will be a hard fight. Max is a good driver and Oscar is too, but you have made it this far. You are the second best right now. Even if you don't win it this year, you have shown your worth and you're going to win in the future."

He nodded, not fully convinced but reassured by her words. "Let us go to bed, shall we?" She asked. Neither of them had let go of the other. Lando let his arms slide down her sides and stepped back to turn around towards their room. She turned back towards the ocean again, just to look at the waves once more, before also walking into the room. He had already started undressing when she came in. "I would like it if you talked to me about these things. We support each other." His nod was almost not noticeable. "It is hard, and I will ask again if I notice something, but I don't want you to be alone with this." This time his nod was more vigorous. "I will try." He looked at her, smiling crookedly. She nodded. "Thank you." She walked the few steps towards him and gave him a short kiss.

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[ab4eva]

‘Ain’t That Loving You Baby’

Summary: Reader is out of sorts all day - grumpy, petulant, rude and just plain bitchy. Elvis takes it upon himself to set her straight.

Warnings: NFSW 18+, spanking, non-con spanking, established relationship, time period related ideas about marriage/relationships, copious use of pet names, use of the term “daddy”, fingering, aftercare, fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note: Y’all, sometimes inspiration for a fic strikes in the most unexpected of ways, as with this one. I know this isn’t everyone’s cuppa, so if I’ve tagged you and you aren’t into it, apologies and please just keep right on scrolling. Now please enjoy one of my top Elvis fantasies that I will write in as many different ways as humanly possible until the day I die.

Word count: 3.6k

-

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it - why you were so out of sorts today. One minute you were close to tears, feeling sensitive and tender if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way or seemed the least bit careless with you. The next minute you were blowing up at some poor member of the Memphis Mafia, Vernon or even Elvis himself. You were grumpy, combative, and just generally in a very bad mood. It was as if a black cloud were hanging over your head, following your every step, raining on your own personal parade just to piss you off. The worst part was you knew you were being a brat but you were powerless to stop it. You felt itchy and irritated, on edge from the moment you stepped out the front doors of Graceland that morning to run your errands.

It didn’t help that when you returned, Elvis and the boys were lounging in the living room, making a right mess of things - beer bottles littering every surface, ash trays full to the brim with cigar ash, dirty plates covering the floor - it looked like a literal bomb had gone off. You’d just cleaned the entire house yesterday from top to bottom. Elvis had begged you to hire a housekeeper after you’d gotten married, but you were old fashioned, you saw it as the wife’s job to keep a clean house. And so you did…until all of these beastly men came and messed it up again. You surveyed the mess, a look of displeasure coloring your pretty face, your hands clenched into tight fists. Your heart pounded as you dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm and tried very hard not to scream.

“Oh hey Y/N,” Red said lazily, the first of them to notice you standing in the doorway. “These cookies are damn delicious.” Your eyes zeroed in on his hand and you saw he held one of your freshly baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, the ones you’d painstakingly made dozens of last night. They were meant for the cookie exchange your book club was having tomorrow. Your eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the men in the living room, all of them perched here and there on the furniture or the floor… and all of them with cookies in their hands. The big platter heaped with cookies you had carefully placed on top of the fridge now sat almost empty in the middle of the coffee table. Your eyes found Elvis’s as you inhaled sharply and gave him a look that could kill. He had the good grace to look abashed as he quickly dropped the cookie he was holding, standing up slowly from where he sat on the couch as he moved towards you, holding both hands in front of him in a gesture meant to placate you but it only enraged you further.

“Now baby, we didn’t mean to eat all these here cookies, but you know they’re my favorite and I-I-I couldn’t resist. And I had to share with the guys, otherwise what kind of host would I be?” His blue eyes were sparkling with something close to amusement and his voice dripped honey, soft and low, soothing. He knew the look you were giving him, knew he had to tread carefully.

“Elvis…baby,” you said in a dangerous and mocking whisper, “those cookies were for my book club.” You spat the words out through gritted teeth, barely containing your rage. The thing is, you were usually so easygoing, so even-keeled, the very definition of hospitable to guests in your home. Normally, this wouldn’t even phase you. But today? It made you so angry you could barely speak. Poor Jerry had the unfortunate thought at that moment to try and smooth the situation over by offering to clean up the mess they’d made only to have you snap at him (“Don’t bother! None of you had the bright idea to even think before turning my living room into a pigsty!”) as you stomped out of the room.

Things didn’t end there as your rampage continued for the rest of the day, cutting down anyone and anything daring to cross your path. Vernon made the mistake of asking you about a shopping bill for some new dresses you purchased last week, innocently wanting to know the total so he could add it to the monthly expense account. You almost wrung his neck - the sheer audacity of the man! The Colonel came sweeping in cheerily in the late afternoon, trying to pull one of his old carney tricks on you, thinking it would lighten your mood. It had the opposite effect and you told him off so completely that even Elvis had to chuckle at it with a bemused smile. But the final straw came that evening, as you and Elvis sat peacefully (for his part, at least) in the living room, quietly reading after a rather tense dinner. You made some snide, off the cuff remark aimed at the way your husband’s business was being run and in an instant, you knew you’d stepped over the line, pushed Elvis past the limit of what he’s willing to take.

As soon as the words fly out of your mouth you wish you could pull them back in, gather the broken pieces of them and keep them inside. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying to his face, realizing your mistake too late, realizing your bad mood has landed you here, in uncharted territory. Only once before had you taken things too far - two weeks after your wedding - Elvis had stormed out of the house in a barely suppressed rage only to return the next morning, acting as if nothing had even happened. You see his body still and his blue eyes widen in surprise before they darken, anger and annoyance flashing across his face before being replaced with a look of willful determination. You know that look, it’s the one he gets when he has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, won’t let go until he gets what he wants. Your heart speeds up in your chest, pounding almost painfully, you feel a little lightheaded and your mouth goes dry. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth to apologize, to take back the words you’ve already said, anything at all to stop this train from hurtling off the cliff. “Elvis, I-,” the words start to tumble from your mouth in a rush before he cuts you off angrily.

“That’s enough!” he yells, his voice booming loud and firm, your ears ringing with the force of it. “Now listen here, girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but that’s. Enough.” His voice is now dangerously low as he punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in your direction, his gold rings glittering wildly in the soft light of the room. He stands abruptly and strides towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you there. You struggle against him, beating his solid chest with your closed fists like a child, not wanting to be held.

“Lemme go…let me go!” you practically scream in his face. Something inside you refuses to be comforted in this moment, you feel as if he’s suffocating you. You don’t want him to touch you, don’t want him near you. And yet, it’s all you want, to be here, in his arms. His deliciously musky scent fills your nostrils as he presses your head into his shirt in an attempt to calm you. His chest is heaving with restrained emotion and his wiry chest hairs tickle your nose through his unbuttoned collar. Confusion swirls in your brain, you’re too upset to sort through the emotions that have been tormenting you all day as you thrash against him. His lip curls up in an annoyed smirk as he grabs your flailing fists, pinning them to your side as his jaw clenches, his strong arms vise-like as he clutches you tightly to his chest.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me why ya got a bee in your britches, darlin. Why ya been a goddamn brat all goddamn day… or I’m gonna make ya tell me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. His eyes search yours and his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to keep you in check as you still struggle against him. You can see the vein in his neck, the one that drives you wild, popping out - which means he’s excited or angry - or both.

“I’d like to see you try,” you spit at him scornfully, your bright eyes challenging him, your lip turning up into a slight sneer as you wriggle some more.

“Don’t test me, little one. I think someone needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the one to give it to ya.” He squeezes you tighter in his arms as you squirm, still trying to break free, and suddenly you’re having a little trouble breathing. You stop moving for a moment and his grip loosens just a little as you gulp in a breath of air. “As your husband, it’s my job to set you right when you’re misbehaving. So I’m gonna ask ya again, darlin - why are ya so outta sorts today?”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s just a bad day. You remember waking up and feeling fine, maybe a little tired. Elvis was already gone, his side of the bed cold and empty. He’d been distracted with contract negotiations when you found him in the kitchen, already eating breakfast. Without you. You had wanted to tell him a story about something that happened yesterday that made you think of him. But just as you were about to he was up and out for a meeting, without ever kissing you good morning. Or goodbye. All of these little things, you suddenly realize, subconsciously added up to you feeling neglected and uncared for by him. They had curled inside your belly without you knowing, sending sad thoughts to your brain all day long. You bite your lip as it all comes rushing in and you feel yourself close to tears.

You can’t tell him these things. They’re all too silly, too small, too insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. You just stare at him, your chest heaving, your eyes silently pleading with him to understand as a tear slips down your cheek unbidden. He softens for a moment, a dozen different thoughts flashing across his readable face. He gently wipes your tear with his thumb and presses a kiss to your cheek where it fell. Then he nods once, as if making up his mind about something. He releases you, grabbing your wrist again, practically dragging you over to the big, comfy chair at the edge of the living room. You go rather willingly, unsure of what his plan is. His other hand settles on the back of your neck, gently, as he starts to push you down over the back of the chair. You suddenly understand that something you have no control over is about to happen and you start to fight him again. But he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist as he keeps pushing your head down until you are bent almost in two over the back of the chair. If his iron grip on you didn’t entirely prevent you from moving, his strong, lean body standing behind you and pressing you into the chair does.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you down.” His voice in your ear is breathy, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Don’t think I won’t, honey. You’ve been ornery all day and you don’t get a say in what happens now, ya hear me? Just remember, this is for your own good. And I love you.” You stop moving, knowing he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to see this through. He releases his grip on you and steps to the side, his left arm settling heavily across your back to hold you down as he rucks your short dress up around your hips. You feel him run a hand across your round ass, cupping it and squeezing softly. You hear what can only be described as a delighted breath escaping his lips behind you, the soft huff of a chuckle, his ribcage expanding against your arm as he breathes deeply. The pressure as he grips your ass gets harder and harder before he suddenly stops and his cool fingers toy with the edge of your panties around your waist before he unceremoniously yanks them down to your ankles.

“Last chance, baby,” he says through gritted teeth, his tone stern as he pins you to the chair. You start to squirm again, panic rising in your chest. He’s about to spank you. He…he’s never done that before. Not even for fun. Your body starts to tremble and you shake your head, refusing to speak. You feel him raise his right hand and a ghost of a breeze whispers across your bare bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, your heart banging painfully in your chest, preparing as best you know how. You haven’t been spanked since you were a little girl and there’s something wrong, and slightly exciting, about it.

He delivers the first slap to your bottom with a firm, open palm, the impact of it echoing throughout the living room, the only other noise that can be heard is the ticking of a clock, your gasp and Elvis’s heavy breathing. You inhale sharply at the sting of it, but it isn’t as terrible as you were expecting and it dissipates quickly. You let out the breath you’d been holding, if this is all it is you can handle it. All is quiet and still behind you, and you wonder if that’s it…until you feel him lean down to speak in your ear again.

“That was just a warm up, little girl, ain’t gonna go that easy on ya for the rest of ‘em,” he murmurs, and you hear the love in his stern voice as you try and process what he’s saying. The rest of them? That was going easy? You start to wiggle, trying to break free once again and realize the whimpering noise filling the room is coming from your mouth. Before you can get too worked up he swats you again, twice in quick succession, a little harder than before.

“Ow!” you yell, incensed by your situation, kicking your feet a little. “That hurt!” You spit out through gritted teeth, angry now. “Elvis Aaron Presley, you let me go this instant!” Your demands are met with an amused laugh, and you let out a frustrated growl, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp.

“I see I haven’t sorted you out yet, honey. Still got some of that brattiness left in ya that needs to be broken. Your choice, little girl.” Elvis lets a small laugh slip, his eyes on your body as he slowly and deliberately brings his hand down on your ass again. It’s strong and forceful, but not cruel. It leaves you breathless, speechless. Finally the stinging has permeated your skin and refuses to leave. It’s starting to be uncomfortable and you can tell that if he doesn’t quit soon you’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.

“You’ve been petulant, rude, acting like a damn child all day. And that’s not the woman I know and love, the woman I married. No wife of mine is gonna act that like that and get away with it - not to my friends, not to my father, and especially not to me. Do you understand?” His hand gently cups you as he lectures, rubbing softly over what must be your quickly reddening ass. You hiss and grip the the pillow in front of you. “Answer me, girl. Do you understand?”

You’re not done pouting…if he thinks he can break you, sort you out, punish you - let him try. You stay willfully silent, refusing to speak. You hear him sigh as he removes his hand from you and you brace yourself for another round.

“Have it your way, darlin’…I’m gonna give you six more and if you’re still in a state, then we’re gonna have to have a serious talk, you and me," Elvis says, suddenly quiet and solemn and your heart drops in your chest. Maybe this isn’t some game he’s playing? You didn’t realize it was as important as he’s now letting on. You know you were a total bitch today and you do regret your words and actions… You cry out as he spanks you again without warning, his palm landing with more force than he’s given you so far. He continues and the spanking is relentless, but there's also something almost hypnotic about it. It feels like his hand is on your skin forever, but before you know it, it's almost over. And unexpectedly you realize the last couple of swats have sent lightening straight to your core, your nipples are tight buds rubbing deliciously against the coarse fabric of the chair through your thin dress and you’re surprised to feel slickness gathering on your thighs. You don’t know when your cries turned to breathy moans but he stops abruptly as he hears you, still two spankings left to give.

You’re breathing heavily, still clutching the decorative pillow adorning the chair as you clench around nothing, surprising yourself and Elvis as an obscene squelching noise echoes across the now quiet living room. You let out a breathless laugh, flushing a deep red, thankful he can’t see the embarrassment written across your face. You feel Elvis laughing silently as well, quiet little snorts as he tries and fails to keep from giggling.

“Well now, this is a development I wasn’t expecting,” he murmurs in your ear, leaning over you, his warm breath floating across your cheek. You turn your face towards his, your glassy eyes trying to focus on him as you blink slowly. “Now that it seems I’ve sorted you out, what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t also take care of my baby?” His right hand squeezes your bottom lightly as his left arm finally releases you and his hand slips underneath your hips, his long, cool fingers gently sliding up your soaking folds. Your breath hitches at his touch, letting out a whimper as he reaches your aching clit, circling it deftly with calloused fingers, once, twice, before dipping two of them into your wet heat.

“Goddamn, mama, so needy for me? Maybe I oughta spank ya more often,” he says breathlessly, his voice taut with desire. You know your husband well - it’s the way he sounds when his cock is hard and straining against his pants, aching to be set free. He’s probably already starting to leak, you think dimly, and the thought has you fluttering around him.

“Oh…” you manage to breathe out as he starts to pump his fingers into you agonizingly slow, his thumb finding your clit and applying light pressure. You rock your hips, already so close to the edge you can almost taste it. His right hand smacks your ass hard and you jolt forward, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his punishing hand on your backside has you starting to whine, unable to stop. He speeds up the movement of his hand, curling his digits just so into that sensitive and spongy part of you just as he delivers the final slap to your ass that has you clenching tightly around his fingers nestled inside you, coming harder than you have in a while, your high-pitched whine turning silent as you stop breathing for a moment. He groans above you and you feel him shaking slightly as he bends over your body - you know it’s taking everything in him to hold it together. After a few moments, he slowly releases you, helping you stand and your legs immediately buckle underneath you. Elvis grabs you under your arms to try and keep you from falling but you’re both so weak with spent energy and desire - yours fulfilled, his aching - that you both tumble to the ground in a heap.

"There. All sorted out, sweetheart?" Elvis smiles down at you as your head rests against his shoulder, his arm encircling your waist. His voice is rough but tender as he smoothes the hair back from your face. "How did daddy do?" he asks, a smirk pulling his lush lips up into a lopsided grin. You blink dazedly, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Daddy?” you finally say, rolling the unfamiliar word around on your tongue. “Hmm, I could get used to that, I think.” You smile softly as your hand reaches up to cup his face, your thumb brushing the scratchy stubble across his jaw as your eyes turn serious. “I am sorry, Elvis. For all of it,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“Shh, little one, I know,” he says, kissing your forehead softly and pulling you closer into himself, cradling you on his chest as your hand nestles in his chest hair, right above his heart that beats only for you.

And at book club the next day, when you’re settled on a mountain of pillows, no one even bats an eye.

-

Tags - I don’t have a general tag list so I’m just tagging some lovies who have enjoyed my previous fics: @jelliedonut @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @butlersxbirdy @missmaywemeetagain @headfullofpresley @powerofelvis @notstefaniepresley @amydarcimarie @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @sillybookmarks @melancholicbutterflies @thatbanditqueen @eliseinmemphis @godlypresley @ccab @richardslady121 @rjmartin11 @claire-elvisgirl @literally-just-elvis-fics