#seduction Chicago

[chicagostrippers]

What You Need To Do Organize Adult Entertainment Parties

If you are looking for a way to explore the beauty of life, then you need to know how to celebrate. You can celebrate in many different ways but as a bachelor, you should always go for adult entertainment.

That brings the need for getting the best Chicago party strippers who can make your parties beautiful. If you are not sure about where and to who should go for adult entertainment, here is what you need to know.

Who and where should go for adult entertainment:

If you are getting a promotion, then you might want to enjoy a good dance night with a stripper. People planning for wedding might want to arrange a stripper party. A lot of people think that they would rather go to a strip club but the reality is different.

  When you are hiring strippers, it is a good way to explore the beauty intimately, which you might not be able to do in the club. In a strip club, you are likely to spend more money on buying drinks. There are other costs that you are going to pay if you visit a club. For these reasons, it is a great thing to hire strippers.

You need to find stunning strippers:

The fact of the matter is that there are many stripper providers on the market, and every stripper service is not as good as you would like them to be. You might need a certain type of stripper with certain skills and bodily features.

That brings the need to find stripper providers that have more options and those who can get you, strippers, according to what you would like and your preferences. There are many more things that you should be looking for when you are hiring strippers, let's take a look at those points.

Key points to pay attention to:

• It is vital that you find out what they have to offer you, with good services, you would find beautiful strippers and different shows. For example, you would get a toy show, nude model dupe, three-girl show, and more, you need to consider these factors while hiring strippers for entertainment

  • The next thing that you have to look at would be the cost of the strippers that you hire, you might want to get strippers within a certain budget, and the best providers would get you that. You need to talk to them and let them what you need, this would have your party planning better

• You must also find out the show time because you have to follow the time and the protocols that are defined by the providers. One thing is for sure if you want to enjoy a good party, then you should behave in the right way with the strippers as they would comply better

Go for adult entertainment:

It is a smart thing to go for adult entertainment, you must be looking for the best seduction Chicago services. With the help of these insightful ideas, you can get the best stripper services, so, hire beautiful strippers today.

[torijr5]

[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[marksbear]

Can you write a lip Gallagher fic where reader takes his anal virginity for the first time and lip is nervous but then ends up cock dumb

I love lip so muchhhh! ❤️ I’ll be glad to write this! This will take place when Lips still in school so like S1 and 2.

Warnings! SMUT, Virgin Lip, first time, soft to rough, makeout, detailed kisses, grinding and humping.

LIP GALLAGHER X TOP MALE READER

Y/n and Lip walked around in the sidewalks of south side Chicago. They were walking around from school. The two young reckless boyfriends were doing illegal shit while on their walk. Like smashing windows and smoking.

“We should grab something eat yeah?” Y/n suggests while taking Lips wrist dragging him to follow. Lip loved that about Y/n. How he acted so dominant and controlling but reality he’s just a gentle man.

“Sure whatever.” Lip answers walking with his boyfriend.

“Is your family home?” Y/n asks looking ever his shoulder as he asks. “Nah. There at some stupid place with Sheila.” Lip answers not thinking much of it.

“Cool…Do you know when they’re gonna be back?” Y/n asks while looking for a place that looks good for the both of them can eat at.

“Not until like the middle of the night. But Ian’s staying at Mandy’s for something I think while Carl is at a sleepover.” Lip responds.

“Good. So you’ll have your own room today?”

“Yes babe! Why do you keep asking these stupid questions!?” Lip blurts out.

Y/n stops suddenly looking at Lip with a smirk. “Well because I plan on fucking you today. If your okay with that?” Y/n says nonchalantly as Lip almost choked in surprise. “Wa-wait huh?!?”

“I mean even you said that we should take our relationship to the next level. We already done all the bases now we just have to go home base.” Y/n says with a smile.

“The is that supposed to mean!” Lip knew what it meant but he just had to hear it.

“We’re gonna have sex. And I’ll be the one who’s doing the fucking.” Y/n answers with a quick kiss one the head. “I’ve never done it before.” Lip breathes out as he mentally panics.

“That’s okay. That just means I’m taking your virginity. Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” Y/n says before continuing walking.

As Lip follows Y/n quickly wonder his mind begins to wonder. Y/n was right Lip did say those exact words. And it’s true they have done every sexual act between them not sex though. Lip couldn’t believe it. Lip was nervous and a little terrified thinking about what’s going to happen.

“What if I’m bad at this. What if it’s to big to fit it…” Lip thinks to himself as he think and think.

“We should eat here. Then after we’re done we can go to your house.” Y/n says opening the restaurant door for Lip gesturing him inside.

TIMESKIP

As the couple walks to the Gallagher house Lip heart pounds against his chest feeling more and more nervous.

Lip could see his house in the distance as he swallowed the breath he didn't even know that he was holding. As the two held hands they walked to the house with Y/n opening the door for him.

"For once this place is empty." Y/n says playfully as he takes off his own jacket throwing it onto the couch with Lip doing the same. "You've been very on edge y'know." Y/n says cupping Lip's jaw with his hand.

"Don't worry doll, i'll take care of you." Y/n whispers seductively before pulling Lip forward into a kiss. Lip quickly melts into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders. Y/n places his hands onto both sides of Lip's hips holding him tight.

Their tongues move against each other exploring the others mouth with such fierce passion. Lip lets out quiet moans into Y/n's mouth.

For the need of air Lip pulls away looking up at Y/n in a trance. Lip didn't even realize that his body was grinding against Y/n's. As both boys collect their breath they move around the dark living room moving into the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Are we really gonna fuck in a bunk bed?" Lip says hiding the full on nervousness in his voice. Y/n only lets out a chuckle before walking inside the room.

"This is our first time together. It has to be somewhat comfortable." Y/n teases back playfully before turning back around to Lip. Lip closes the distance between them kissing Y/n deeply once more. Y/n moves his hands down on Lip's hips lifting him up from the ground. Y/n presses Lip against the nearby wall and pulls onto Lip's clothes signalling him to take them off. Lip pulls away from the makeout as he fumbles around with his shirt taking it off alongside his pants and boxers.

Lip was naked leaning against the wall as Y/n and him makeout.

"Climb up on the bed..." Y/n mumbles against his lips signalling him to get on the bunk bed. Lip pulls his body away before quickly getting on top of the bunk with Y/n following behind him.

While Y/n takes off his own clothes Lip watches him with his heart beating against his chest.

After Y/n was done Y/n crawled closer to Lip giving him one quick gentle kiss before towering over him. Lip was under Y/n as they shared kiss back and forth.

As Lip was distracted Y/n used one of his free hands to run up Lip's thighs going further and further until he finds Lip's virgin hole.

A breath hitches in Lip's throat feeling something pierce inside him.

"F-fuck! O--ohhh god!~" Lip gasps out as his hands grab onto Y/n's shoulders in surprise. Y/n's finger moves deeper inside Lip causing hi to breath out cuss words and complaints.

Y/n moves his finger side to side stretching him out. Lip buries his head to the crook of Y/n's neck as soft moans escape. Y/n begins to finger Lip faster, but still gentle. Y/n's finger curled and grazed into his prostate causing Lip to scream and moan out in pleasure. "I'm going to add another finger alright doll?" Y/n warns before slipping another finger inside.

This time Y/n curled both his fingers inside him reaching inside him deeper.

After a while when Y/n decided Lip was ready he slowly pulled his fingers out gently. Lip let out a quiet whine feeling the emptiness.

Y/n laid Lip down on his back before crawling in between his legs. Lip had his legs spread open wide as he felt the tip of Y/n's cock grind against his hole.

"It's gonna hurt for a while, but then it will go away alright." Y/n says giving Lip a kiss to distract him. With grinding his cock against Lip's hole for a little longer he slowly moves inside him. Lip groans inside Y/n's mouth from discomfort.

Y/n held onto the bed as he slowly entered inside Lip's tight hole.

"Fu-fuck!~ yo- your~ Gah!~" Lip moans out pathetically couldn't even finish his sentence properly. Only inside half way inside Y/n gave Lip a minute to relax and breath. Lip eyes began to water as his body relaxed into Y/n's cock. Once Lip was less tense and uncomfortable Y/n went back to moving slowly thrusting his cock back and forth.

Y/n only fucked Lip with half his cock pulling out until the tip was inside then to thrust forward back to halfway. Y/n rocked his hips back and forth in rhythm. Lip's walls tightened around Y/n's cock as loud moans fell from his lips.

Suddenly catching Lip way off guard Y/n thrust his cock fully inside Lip. Y/n's cock stretched Lip's virgin hole in half. Lip let out a gasp for air from the sudden length inside him. Lip's own cock ached and twitched with precum leaking from the silt.

Y/n began to thrust back and forth cock going deeper and deeper inside him.

Y/n's hips rocked in and out slowly as his thrust began to pick up the pace. Lip held onto the sheets under him as Y/n moved faster.

Eyes rolling back to his head slowly Lip's mouth hung open as long strained moans rolled out. The Gallagher legs quivered and trembled. Y/n's cock drilled deep inside Lip as Lip was completely dazed.

Y/n pulled out suddenly causing Lip to come back to reality.

"Wh--wha?~ Why'd you pull out?! Please get back inside!~" Lip moans out in confusion as he wiggles his ass to Y/n. Y/n only let out a chuckle before moving back inside Lip. Once the tip was back inside Y/n thrusted his entire length inside Lip. Lip let out a loud moan as Y/n fucked him like he hated him.

Y/n's thrust was no longer sweet and gentle and Lip loved it more than anything.

Lip through his head back into his pillow as Y/n drilled his cock deep inside him. Y/n's cock abused and stretched his hole. Loud wet skin slapping against each other filled the room.

At that point Lip moved his hips down and up matching the speed of Y/n's thrust.

Y/n thrust was deep and hard as he felt his cock twitch inside Lip's hole. Y/n's thrust became sloppier and faster feeling his orgasm nearing. The same thing with Lip he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Y/n moved his hands on Lip's waist hoisting up him in his lap.

Lip began to ride Y/n bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow. Lip held onto Y/n's shoulders to stabilize himself as he moved up and down onto Y/n's cock.

With a few more thrust Y/n came deep inside Lip coating his walls white with his hot load. From the sudden feeling inside him Lip shot his load right after his cock shooting his cum landing on Y/n's chest and some landing on himself. Lip bounced on Y/n's cock riding out his orgasm.

Once they both were out of their highs they held onto each other tightly. Both of their bodies relaxed into each others own.

"Hey babe..." Lip breathes out raising his head up from Y/n's shoulder. Y/n let out a hum signalling him that he's listening.

"I want you to fuck me again. And this time don't fucking stop." Lip says with a smirk as he moves back up on Y/n’s cock.

THE END

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I was 19, wearing the only flattering dress I had. It was all black, a rough but not scratchy fabric, flared at the waist. The bust looked pretty good on me. I bought it from a used clothes store about two months after I started publicly crossdressing when I was 16. At 17, I wore it to my grandfather’s funeral, and seven months later to my friend Liam’s funeral. That night was a different sort of occasion.

Around 11:30 I parked my car at a Comfort Inn just off the highway, about 25 minutes from my suburban apartment and sat for a few moments, finishing my cigarette, putting it out on the side of my car. I always took a moment after parking to sit with myself before going to meet someone. I was nervous, not fearful, though maybe a smarter person would have been, just as a measure of caution.

It wasn’t my first time werking, but I was still pretty green, I had only been in the real-deal-pay-to-play game for a couple months, mostly doing blow and gos before that. Full service felt like hot girl shit, it was different from the eyes-closed blowjobs I had been giving since I was 15. I was still a sexual commodity, but a sexual commodity they were willing to get a motel room for and drop more than $20 on, so I actually bothered to play dress up--and shower--for it.

I walked into the building, passed the reception desk, not paying them any mind, knowing they’d see me leave in about an hour and know exactly what I was there to do. After a trek through a few dimly lit hallways, I found the room he told me he was in and I knocked. The knocking on the door is always the scariest moment of a smooth and safe job. I always envision some vacationing mother coming to the door, distraught at having to see a fat tgirl dressed up like a whore and telling me “No, we didn’t order a prostitute, you should try 1106, this is 1160.”

Luckily, for both me and this imagined middle aged woman, I got the right room. The john opened up the door and let me in. I saw the money already laid out onto the table, quickly counted it, and put it into my purse, which I set down. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around me. He was a head and a half taller than I was and wasted no time in getting physical. After only a couple of minutes, I was laying on my back on the bed, the john kissing my legs, up to my crotch. This was a “I want to do whatever makes you feel good” john, which are actually much harder to work for than the “shut up and suck my dick, faggot” johns. I can suck a dick, but I can’t really act, though I ended up seeing this man a couple more times over the next year, so either I can act well enough or I just have a monopoly on fat non-passing tranny prostitutes in the west suburbs of Chicago.

There’s a certain way this kind of john carries himself while having sex: he moves as if trying to be seductive and sexy, as if to pretend he won me with wit and attractiveness rather than the promise of a small wad of twenties. This sort of john’s ultimate fantasy is to have sexually pleased someone–anyone!--else, a thing they are so unable to do that they have to pay a teenager to pretend that they give great head. This john did these soft, light touches, that I had to fight very hard against bursting into laughter from. The only way I can describe the head he gave is that noise that Anthony Hopkins makes in Silence of the Lambs. after he says “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fththththth.

About fifteen minutes into his lease on my body, he pulled away from me and said, “Hey baby, would you mind if I did a line off you?”

I sincerely thought about it for a moment, as it was clear he was genuinely asking. I wanted the anecdote and said yes.

He walked over to his jacket and grabbed a smallish baggie of coke and came back over to the bed, He grabbed a pinch, deposited it in a line on my left breast, and made another attempt at that seductive movement, his head bobbing and swaying for a few moments before he swooped down like a plane finally landing after circling the runway, opening his mouth as he did, and licking the line up with his tongue.

Had I not been being paid for my composure, I would have burst into laughter, the man might as well have just rubbed lidocaine on his gums. Yet again, a straight face was kept, and we got back to business.

Ten to fifteen minutes after his first line, I was laying on my stomach and he was kissing my ass and legs. Again, he asked me if he could do another line, and again, I said yes.

It is my genuinely held belief that should I, in the state of health I find myself in, ever do cocaine my heart will explode and my eyeballs will pop out of my head and dangle as in cartoons. However, simply through being a rational, reasonable human being, if I were to make the decision to both do coke, and do it off of someone’s ass, I would have a clear path on how I would accomplish that task–snort a horizontally placed line off of a cheek. My very own Mr. Lecter, however, is an outside the box thinker.

I felt a hand spread my asscheeks apart. He let out an excited sigh. His tongue landed between my cheeks, a full inch behind my asshole. It drew a line up, passed my tailbone, and into the Fat Bitch Mini Crack. After the briefest layover, his tongue took flight once more, seats now filled with coke and ass lint.

[chicagostrippers]

Chicago Bachelor Party Strippers: The Perfect Way To End The Night

Bachelor party night in Chicago is a big deal. It's a night to make your friends, family, and significant other proud, and it's also a way for you to show off to the world that you've got the perfect lady who will spend the rest of your life.

Of course, there’s no better way to show off than by throwing a bachelor party in Chicago, but it's not always the easiest. After all, you're going to be in Chicago, which is a city full of crowds, traffic, and people everywhere. To make things easier on you, here are some of the best ways you could use to end a Chicago bachelor party strippers.

? What to expect from a bachelor party stripper?

When it comes to Chicago bachelor parties, strippers are always a popular choice for entertainment. But what exactly can you expect from a stripper at your bachelor party?

  • You can expect them to be hot. Like, hot. They need to be physically attractive to their audience to make money, so you can rest assured that the stripper you hire will be easy on the eyes.

• You can expect them to be skilled at what they do. Strippers are professionals and know how to work their bodies and please their clients. They will give you and your buddies an unforgettable show that will get everyone excited and wanting more.

• You can expect them to be fun. Strippers are there to entertain and they will do whatever it takes to make sure that everyone is having a good time.

? The benefits of hiring a stripper for your bachelor party:

Hiring a stripper for your bachelor party is the perfect way to end the night. Here are some of the benefits:

1. It will be a night you'll never forget

2. You and your friends will have a blast

3. The stripper will add an extra bit of excitement to the party

4. You can get as wild as you want without worrying about embarrassing yourself in front of everyone you know

? How to choose the right stripper for your party?

When planning a bachelor party, it is important to choose the right stripper to make the night unforgettable. Important things are:

  -The type of party you are throwing: If you want a more tame party, go for a girl who will do a slow, sensual dance. If you are looking for a wilder time, pick a girl who is known for her raunchy routine.

-Your budget: Strippers range in price, so be sure to find one that fits your budget.

-The location of the party: If you are having the party at a private residence, you can get away with hiring a more risque stripper.

? Art of seduction:

Seduction is a group of like-minded individuals who enjoy the art of seduction. Seduction is an art form that should be practiced and perfected. It strives to provide its members with the best possible resources and advice to help them hone their skills.

It offers classes, events, and workshops on a variety of topics related to seduction, including but not limited to: flirting, body language, dirty talk, and role-playing. Whether you're looking to improve your dating life, get out of your comfort zone, or simply learn more about the art of seduction, seduction chicago is the place for you!

[novamariestark]

A Dangerous Game - H.V

Summary: You get brought into interrogation as a potential suspect in a murder. You get a little... playful, when your lover is one of the ones questioning you.

Warnings: age gap, smut, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), public sex (i guess), pet names, handcuffs, oral (f receiving), proofread (but i always find a mistake that a ghost wrote after I post 🤣)

Word count: 2437

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x reader

[A/N] as promised 😁 Happy Smut Saturday everyone

At first, you took it seriously. I mean, why on earth would you want to be arrested for a murder you didn’t commit? But as soon as he walked in the room, looking as deliciously fuckable as he did this morning, you just couldn’t think of anything else but fucking him in this very room, on this very table.

"I don't know what to tell you, man," you said, your fingers dancing on the table. Two men were sat opposite you. One of them you didn't know and the other was your man, your lover. Maybe you could finally live out one of your fantasies. All you needed was the other guy to leave the room. And you had an idea on how to do that, "I was getting a good dicking at the time of the murder," you giggled.

The stranger's eyes widened, and he coughed, obviously not expecting such bluntness. But Hank Voight, the man you were referring to, remained stoic. He obviously knew exactly what you meant. He had been the one giving you that 'good dicking'. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. God you loved those arms. of course, the only thing that would make it better was no shirt, when those very arms are wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him whilst he’s pounding into you relentlessly.

You think back to that morning, before work, riding him on the couch, you just couldn’t help it. He was a drug, and you were addicted to it. Your thighs clamp shut as you remember how good he’d made you feel, how good he always makes you feel. Your bottom lip subconsciously sucked in between your teeth as you looked at him. His eyes never left yours, challenging you to keep it up. And you took that challenge. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "It was... so good,"

The room was silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. The other detective, clearly uncomfortable, shifted in his seat. He had been trying to ignore the tension from the moment Hank walked into the room, the way your eyes lit up when you looked his way, the way Hank's jaw clenched every time you spoke. It was more than just a suspect's usual taunting; it was a game to you.

"Alright, Miss...," the stranger began, flipping through his notes, "Miss (y/l/n). Could you be a bit more...specific?"

"You sure you can handle that?" you asked, moving to rest your arms on the table, a sweet smile on your face. When you didn't get a reply, you continued, "Okay, well it started with me on my knees for him, he loves that. Just as much as I love being on my knees," you whispered, your eyes locked on Hank's, "Anyway, he then wanted to taste me so, I lay down on the couch..."

The detective's cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat, flipping his notebook shut. "I'm going to get some coffee," he mumbled, standing up and practically sprinting out of the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Hank stood, his palms flat on the table, hovering over you, "What do you think you're playing at?"

"You know I'm innocent," you smiled, looking up at him with doe eyes, you then bit your lip again, "Well, innocent of murder," you whispered, your voice a tantalizing purr.

Hank's expression didn't change. "I know you are," he replied, his voice a low rumble.

"Is anyone behind the glass?" you asked, your gaze flicking towards the one-way mirror behind him.

"(y/v), how did you know King?" Hank asked, his tone firm, ignoring your question.

"This table seems very sturdy," you said, your eyes never leaving Hank's as you leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. You could feel the heat of his stare on you, his anger simmering just below the surface. You knew you were pushing his buttons, but you enjoyed every second.

"(y/n)," he growled, his voice a sound of warning. "Don't play games with me."

"I thought you loved playing with me, Daddy?" your smile widened, voice dripping with innocence.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, leaning closer.

"What you gonna do about it, Sergeant?" you asked, moving into a position where he had a better line of sight to your breasts.

His head dropped, his line of sight to the table, his eyes shut tight as he tries not to let you get to him, any more than you already had, "You're a suspect in a murder investigation,"

"What do you do to the ones who don't talk?" you asked, moving your finger to rest on your bottom lip as you looked up at him, the same look you give him when you’ve got him deep in your mouth. Hank's jaw clenched even tighter, "You get a little rough?"

The tension was palpable in the air, thick and heavy like the fog before a storm. Hank leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, "(y/n), you're pushing it," he warned, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Am I?" you teased, reaching out your hand to run it down his chest, "I thought you liked it when I'm...difficult."

Hank's grip on the table tightened, his knuckles turning white. "You know I do," he murmured, his voice low and gruff, "But not here,"

"You don't want to punish me for being a bad girl?" you whispered, your voice the sexy bratty tone that he loved, "You don't want to handcuff me to the table and fuck the brat out of me?"

Hank took a step back, his eyes darkening with every word that you spoke. You smirked because you couldn't help the way his body responded to your words, "You're not making this easy on yourself," he said through gritted teeth.

Your smile never wavered, "Since when have I ever wanted easy?" you challenged.

Hank's eyes narrowed.

Suddenly, Hank's hand shot out, yanking you out of the chair and pressed you against the table, your breasts flattening against the steel, you heart racing as his handcuffs clamped around one wrist, around a leg of the table and snapped around the other wrist. He was quick, efficient, and surprisingly gentle despite the force behind his actions. He knew you liked it rough, but he would never be too rough with you. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his mouth hovering above your ear, "This what you wanted, baby girl?"

Your body responded immediately to the command in his voice. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his thighs pressing into you. "Yes, Daddy, please" you breathed, your voice stuttered whisper.

Hank's grip on your neck tightened, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just behind your ear. "You know I'd never leave you needy, sweetheart," he murmured. He pulled you closer, his free hand sliding around your waist to the small of your back, pressing you against his body. You could feel his erection, straining against his pants, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You started to move your hips, your ass rubbing against him, the friction sending a delicious ache straight to your core.

"But, Daddy," you panted, "I've been a very, very bad girl."

With a smirk, he released your neck and sat down in the chair you had been occupying moments before, pulling you closer until your ass was in his face. Without a second thought, he yanked down your pants and panties, exposing your glistening pussy to the cool air of the interrogation room, "Then I guess you need to be taught a lesson," he said, his voice deeper than usual, gruff with need. He pushed your legs apart, his hand on your waist keeping you in place.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm breath against you, his rough hands spreading you open. You had dreamed of this moment so many times, of being at his mercy while you were handcuffed and vulnerable. Your body responded immediately, your legs quivering as he began to feast on you, his tongue delving into your folds, tasting your sweetness. You couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as he devoured you, his teeth nipping at your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and his muffled growls of pleasure as he ate you out, his tongue swirling and lapping, his nose pressed against your ass as he held you in place. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your stomach, your toes curling. Hank knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you scream.

Your handcuffed wrists were starting to ache, but the pain only heightened your pleasure. You pushed back harder, your body begging for more, your moans growing louder. Hank's grip on your waist tightened, his other hand reaching up under your shirt to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The dual sensation of pleasure and pain pushing you closer to the edge.

As you reached the peak, your legs began to shake, your moans turning into screams that were muffled by the tabletop. Hank didn't let up, his tongue flicking and probing, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh until you came, your body convulsing against the table. He still didn't stop, though, not until you were a trembling mess, panting and gasping for air.

Slowly, he stood up, his eyes as dark as the night. The sound of his belt being unbuckled behind you was the only sound in the room. The wait was driving you wild, your body trembling with need. He was deliberately making you wait but pretty soon he couldn’t take his own torture.

With one swift movement, Hank yanked your hips back and slammed into you, filling you completely and making you cry out. The force of his thrusts was intense, pushing your body against the table, the metal handcuffs biting into your wrist. But you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this.

He smacked your ass, the sound off the walls of the small room, leaving a sting that only added to the pleasure. You pushed back against him, urging him to go harder, faster, deeper. Your moans grew louder, mixing with his grunts of effort and enjoyment. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back to meet each thrust. You could feel the muscles in his arms bulging, his entire body taut with tension.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Hank reached one hand down to your head, fisting your hair and yanking your head back, arching your back and pulling you up off the table, "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could focus on was the sensations he was giving you.

He yanked your hair again, "Yes what?"

"Yes Daddy," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush of pleasure as Hank's hand smacked down on your ass again. He didn't hold back, giving you the rough treatment you had been craving, his cock pounding into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

With each thrust, the table scraped against the floor, the room filled with the symphony of your moans and the slap of flesh against flesh. Hank's other hand was tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could see your face in the glass, the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You met his gaze in the one-way glass, and whispered, "More."

Hank didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled your hips closer, his cock slamming into you with an intensity that had you screaming his name. The pain mixed with the pleasure, creating an intoxicating cocktail that had you begging for more, that had your body writhing under his.

He leant down, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to his teeth. He bit down gently, his teeth scraping your skin as he fucked you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You could feel the edge fast approaching, your muscles tightening around him, your pussy clenching. His grip on your hair tightened, his teeth digging in deeper, and you knew he was close too.

With a final, powerful thrust, Hank came inside you, filling you with his seed. He groaned, his body shuddering as he held you in place, his cock still pulsing. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, making your entire body spasm. Your legs gave out, but the handcuffs kept you on the table, your ass in the air with Hank's cock still deep inside you.

As you both caught your breath, Hank leaned over you, his hand still in your hair, "You ready to answer my question yet?"

You looked over your shoulder at him. As if you could remember anything right now, "What question was that?" you panted.

"How do you know King?" Hank repeated.

“He was my boyfriend in college. We had a fling, nothing serious."

Hank released your hair, letting it fall down your back in a cascade of (y/h/c) waves. He leaned back, his cock slipping out of your, and you couldn't help the slight wince as the loss of his warmth left you feeling empty. He leaned over you and unfastened the handcuffs, freeing you from the cold embrace of the table. He pulled your pants up, smoothing the fabric over your reddened skin. You slid down from the table, legs wobbly, and he caught you, pulling you into his lap as he sat back down in the chair.

"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked, his head resting on the top of yours as you snuggled into him.

"9-10 years ago, last I heard, he moved to New York. I don't know why he was here,"

He asks you a few more questions about King, before the two of you leave the room to find all the detectives looking your way. It was obvious they heard the moans and the screams, but none of them dare to say anything. Well, none except one.

"So, I guess you are her alibi, Sarge," Adam asked and all heads snap towards him, looking at him as though he had a death wish or something…

[shesmyboot]

No Matter What

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Matthew Casey x reader

Summary: From Anonymous: Hellooooo ‘Stay behind me no matter what.’ Matt Casey :) ~~ Matt Casey + Reader + Fire Call = Hookups in his Quarters (I don’t make the rules)

Words: 682

Warnings: Intimate moment, canon typical events

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: Sorry it’s so short, but I hope you like it Anon!

Join my taglist here

Tags: @mrspeacem1nusone @kiddbegins @pensfan5871

__

“Need any help with the inventory?” Sylvie asked.

“I think I’m finished up,” you laughed, "you bored or something Brett?"

"I know I've only been in Chicago for a few months, but this is the first shift I've had with no-"

"I'm gonna cut you off right there before you jinx us. Those who say the 'Q' word or even think about the lack of runs is a jinx to the whole house."

"How do you know this?"

"Candidiate a few years back-"

Battalion 25, Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, building fire, 723 North Wabash

"Looks like you are the new jinx, Sylvie Brett," you laughed, hopping into the passenger seat of 61, "and the jinx gets to drive."

Sylvie started the short drive to the scene, "how's it going with you and Casey?"

"Good, yeah, we're in a good place. It's weird to date someone you work with though. I'd never done that before Matt."

"Helps that your crazy schedules are synced."

"True that," you giggled, pulling up to the fire.

You hopped out of the rig and grabbed the jump bag before heading over to Boden.

"Where do you need us, Chief?" you asked.

"Two still inside, owner needs to be checked out."

As you and Sylvie tended to your victim, you could hear the commotion between truck and squad.

'Chief, I need a medic inside if you have one to spare' your radio buzzed. 

"You good here?" You asked Sylvie.

"Yup, go."

You threw your bunker coat on and grabbed the jump bag.

"Medic coming in now, Casey. Where am I going?" you said, hustling towards the fire.

"I'll come get you, we're turned around in here."

You stopped and waited at the door. 

"Fire is pretty much out," he announced, "follow behind me."

You followed Casey into the building and up the stairs. 

"Baby, I need you to stay behind me no matter what," Matt admitted, "I don't know what hapened in here and I don't want anything to happen to you."

You nodded and followed him up the stairs to the second floor of the building.

"Victim is over here. Burns and possibly a neck injury as far as we can tell.”

“Thanks. Conscious?”

“In and out.”

You leaned down beside your victim.

“I’m a paramedic, I’m here to help you,” you introduced yourself as you undressed the victim of his jacket. 

“Matt, you’re right. I’m worried about a neck injury. Grab the collar.”

Your boyfriend, now assistant, handed you your supplies.

“Help me get him out of here. It’s getting hotter in here.”

He nodded, picking up the jump bag beside him and handing it to you. 

“Got him?” You asked.

He nodded and brought your victim outside.

After finding Sylvie, you loaded up the victim while Sylvie got the oxygen ready for the ride to the hospital.

——

Returning to the house after your run, you looked in the ambo’s mirror.

“Brett, did you seriously let me ride around with soot on my face?” You laughed, trying to rub it away.

You walked into the now full common room with your partner.

“So are we finally gonna convince you to take the firefighter’s test?” Herrmann asked.

“Haha, very funny Herrmann. 61’s my home, always will be.”

“I’m sure we’ll get you over here at some point,” he chuckled.

You ducked out of the common room and into the bunk room, where you peeked into Matt’s office. 

“Got a minute?” You asked.

“For you? Always.”

You locked the door behind you.

“You know,” you laid down, semi-seductively, on his bed, “they way you said ‘stay behind me no matter what’ on that last call was-“

He leapt up from his chair and drew the blinds. 

“Was what?” He smiled.

“I was kinda sexy,” you grinned.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in for a kiss.

“Yeah.”

“You know what else is sexy?” He broke the kiss for a moment, “you with all that soot on your face.”

“I guess we should do something about these feelings then, huh Matt Casey?”

“I think you might be right.”

[24kmagiic]

Klonnie Week | Day 4 - Exhibitionism Chicago, 1926

A Night With 'The Vixen'...

The feeling of being adored by a sea of men, packed like sardines while drooling at the sight of you was as thrilling as it was terrifying. The thought of a crazed killer being amongst one of those men sent shivers down her spine. The thought never kept her from stepping out on stage but it followed her with each step as she walked home each night. She always waited until the club manager threatened to kick her out before slipping under the cloak of darkness, hoping to not run into anyone who wished to harm her or carry out any of the twisted fantasies she played into while on stage. Velvet Vixen was a powerful siren on stage while Bonnie Bennett was a mouse.

On stage, she performed in front of men who paid a high dollar to abandon their families for A Night with The Vixen while at home, she performed for one man in particular. She wasn’t sure when he’d begun watching her but she noticed one night while preparing for a shower. Rather than drawing the blinds, Bonnie allowed The Vixen to take control and she found herself putting on a little show for her admirer. 

The mystery man watched as she dipped below the water and made a show of shaving her legs, slowly and meticulously. It felt empowering to command such attention and though she was used to doing it night after night, having one person in the audience was much more seductive than the sea of faces she was used to blocking out. 

Night after night, her secret admirer watched as her shows became increasingly more risqué. This show felt different from the hundreds of shows she’d performed in the past. This show left her more exposed and yet, she felt more in control than she’d ever had. She felt less like Velvet Vixen and more like Bonnie Bennett. So much so that, at times, she had trouble telling the two women apart. After each of her private shows, she pleasured herself alone in her bed; writhing against silk sheets as she called out for a man whose name she did not know while wondering if he pleasured himself the same way.

The thought of him gripping himself at the thought of her made her moist.

As sinful as it was, Bonnie never gained the courage to approach him and thankfully had never run into him. She wondered if he was kind enough to spare her the embarrassment. He kept his distance and that made her feel safe in a way. He didn’t seem like a creep. Honestly, if anyone was the creep in this situation, it would dreadfully be her.

Tonight, she decided to spice up the show. Rather than turning her back to him before dropping her robe, she kept ‘eye contact’, or as much eye contact as possible from the distance. Slowly, she allowed her robe to slip from her shoulders, revealing her pert nipples in all of their toffee-brown glory. She imagined his cheeks reddening at the sight but she didn’t stop there. With more boldness than she’d ever afforded herself, she slid two fingers into her painted red lips and coated them with her saliva before lowering her fingers to her center, pressing them against her fleshy core. 

The mystery man sat up at that and leaned in as Bonnie began to pleasure herself; timidly at first and then with more confidence. As she grew wetter, her moans increased and echoed against her bathroom walls as she sat at the edge of the clawfoot tub and spread her legs, giving him a naughtier view of what she was doing to herself. Just before she reached her climax, she pulled her hand away and sucked on her fingers again. The mystery man bit his lips and stood to reveal his engorged cock with his hands wrapped tightly around it. Bonnie watched as he pleasured himself and released into his hands. Her twat lept with excitement as he licked his lips and rested his head against the glass, obviously spent from his own orgasm.

It was the first time he’d ever revealed himself to her and she felt her chest swell with pride and possessiveness. She’d done that to him and she hadn’t placed a finger on him. Her eyes glowed with passion as she mouthed the words and beckoned in her heart, ‘Find Me.’ 

That night she slept peacefully and went on about her day with no signs of Mr. Sinful. Two weeks had passed since that night and she didn’t see him in his window any of those nights. She’d wondered briefly if he moved away in disgust. It wasn’t until she was backstage preparing for her show that she received a bouquet of three dozen red roses and an unsigned note that simply said, ‘Thanks for the show. See you tonight.’ Her heart raced as she shot to her feet and raced to the curtain. Discreetly, she scanned the audience but saw no signs of the face she’d grown acquainted with from her bathroom window. A bit disappointed, Bonnie returned to her dressing room and finished getting ready.

An hour later, she was in position and ready to start the show, waiting on the music and the curtains to draw before she began. As the curtains lifted, Bonnie’s heart raced when she found the entire club empty except for one, very familiar, face. Her cheeks flushed hot as she quickly scanned the area to see if this was some sort of joke. Her manager, just off stage, signaled for her to continue and Bonnie watched as Mr. Sinful took his seat, front row, center. Her heart thrashed in her chest wildly before Bonnie the Vixen became one and she began her usual performance for the only man in the crowd.

Their eyes remained glued to one another as Bonnie ended her routine and Mr. Sinful stood and gave her a standing ovation. He slowly made his way onto the stage until he was standing in front of him. He was taller than she realized; much taller, and his presence was overwhelming. His smell was nothing she’d ever known and she immediately engraved it into her mind as ‘his’ scent. Her heart raced as she thought of a billion things to say. He was finally here in the flesh and she hadn’t a clue of what to say to him.

“You found me,” she whispered. Mr. Sinful closed his eyes as if committing her voice to memory, before a smirk appeared, instantly soaking her negligee. He was handsome, much more so in person and it was all she could do to stop the dirty thoughts that plagued her mind.

“You summoned me,” he grinned. His voice made the urge to undress him on stage more pressing.

“I suppose so,” she grinned. “I suppose this was your doing?” She waved her hands around the club in reference to its emptiness. He nodded.

“Ah yes, I wanted your last performance to go out with a bang,” he said with a devilish grin and a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“My last,” Bonnie asked with a raised brow.

“Allow me to rephrase. Your last public performance,” he challenged. The two of them stared at one another for some time and Bonnie found, to her surprise, that she was not at all offended by his boldness.

“You don’t even know my name,” she counter-challenged.

“Niklaus,” he introduced with an extended hand.

“Bonnie,” she offered, both her name and her hand. Niklaus pulled her hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on it, never breaking eye contact.

“Bonnie,” he said with a soft smile, revealing his dimples. Bonnie felt her core flip with excitement. “Pairs well with Mikaelson, doesn’t it?” 

Bonnie bit her lip and smirked. 

“I think I like you, Mr. Mikaelson.”

[louisupdates]

FULL ARTICLE ON EUPHORIAZINE

By Saskia Postema 26.4.2024

Mere days after winning “Artist of the Year” at the inaugural Northern Music Awards, Louis Tomlinson is celebrating the only way he knows how – by giving back. Tomlinson just dropped a surprise album, which includes a curated list of live performances over the past years. It’s a risky move, as live albums are notoriously difficult to make worthwhile. But there’s no doubt about it: Tomlinson is deserving of that award, and the recordings on Louis Tomlinson: LIVE deserve to live forever.

After an initial stop-start to his solo career, Tomlinson has certainly flourished since finally getting to hit the stage. He’s been touring extensively over the past few years, performing a mix of tracks from his first two albums. Both were solid records that heavily referenced anthemic, rich sonic soundscapes. In fact, Tomlinson previously admitted that he wrote certain tracks with a live show in mind. Indeed, songs like “Face The Music,” “Out Of My System” and “The Greatest,” from his No. 1 selling album Faith in the Future, absolutely benefit from the live instrumentals compared to their studio versions.

It isn’t often that live performances consistently seem to not only live up to but objectively improve the perfectly engineered studio recordings. Perhaps it’s the love that the album so clearly captures for live music that does it. The singer-songwriter is an avid fan of his own fans and gets to share a collective experience of joy with them. Just listen to the crowds serenading Tomlinson in return during “Chicago,” recorded live in – you guessed it, Chicago. From Tomlinson’s perspective, audiences across the world have always been part of breathing life into these live recordings. Now, people get to live that same experience with him by listening to this record that is woven together with impeccably mixed joyful screaming in the background.

Tomlinson’s storytelling isn’t hindered by the crowd’s reaction. Rather, it is bolstered by it. In both power ballads like “Common People” as well as raucous tracks like “Silver Tongues.” The live setting seems to function almost akin to a prism – each song shining brighter, richer, fuller. Perhaps the only track that is tighter in the original version, is the seductive “Written All Over Your Face.” Nonetheless, the instrumental break and palpable, wild excitement make for an enjoyable listen.

Similarly, right in the middle of the highly addictive “All This Time/We Are Beauty” mash-up, a fan can be heard screaming “I love you” if you listen closely. The sheer adulation of the crowd is decidedly earned. Tomlinson has worked hard to prove himself, despite never having lacked the talent. Perhaps merely the confidence that he could do it, would do it, has done it. Nevertheless, he’s been open about the tension between his own love for music, and his at times debilitating need for perfection. As he’s settled into his career, a quiet undertone of determination and grit, of relief and fulfillment – of gratitude remains in every single show.

On “Saturdays,” you can actually hear Tomlinson mumble that the view’s never been better from where he’s stood on stage. It’s a high-maintenance track with all the right ingredients for a Tomlinson classic. There’s confessional lyricism, emotive delivery, and a gradual yet powerful crescendo in musical arrangement. It needs to be sung with conviction, and it’s clear that Tomlinson pulls power from the audience to deliver.

Notably, none of the covers that Tomlinson frequently incorporates in his concerts made it onto this live album. With that in mind, perhaps this release signals that Tomlinson has finally embraced his own artistry. Because if anything, Louis Tomlinson: LIVE is a reckless celebration record. An ode to joy, the synergy between artist and audience, and the impact of well-timed, flawlessly executed live guitar solos.

[iamalasagnagirl]

PART 2 OF WLW BOOKS PLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, let's see, I'll start with two of my new fav books ever, both written by Debra Flores:

1. One Day You'll Leave Me

Karen is an ordinary woman living an ordinary life in the year 2010. Until the day she hears an unfamiliar song that moves her in a way she cannot understand or explain.

Judy Paige was also an ordinary young woman, who lived an ordinary life, up until the day she sang one of her songs at a show in the year 1964.

When Karen's curiosity about the song turns into an obsession about the woman who sang it, she's drawn to the town in which Judy Paige was born and raised.

It's there that Karen is approached by a man who asks Karen a simple question. "Would you like to meet her?" The question is simple, but the answer is not.

2. The Library by the River

It was an ordinary day in March of 1985, the day Beth walked in to a library and met Sarah, the woman that would change her life forever.

At a time when the AIDS epidemic was well underway, when society still labeled homosexuality as an illness, something to be hidden away, whispered about, but not talked about aloud, there were certainly obstacles in their way.

Even so, obstacles or not, Beth is twenty and Sarah is twenty-eight, they're young, and in love, they can handle whatever comes their way. Or so they think. The one thing they may not be able to overcome is Kim. Beth's jealous best friend. She doesn't see Sarah the way Beth does, far from it, she sees her as nothing more than a problem that needs to be taken care of. An impediment to the relationship she knows she and Beth are meant to have. Volatile and hot-headed, yes, but is Kim actually capable of tearing them apart? And at what cost?

Kiss of Seduction by Rawnie Sabor

Evie is trapped. Held captive by the vampiric Court of Night, she has experienced nothing but pain and terror for over a year.

Natalya is the second-in-command of the Chicago-based Court of Chains. She is among a succubus. A being of pure Sin, whose touch is agony and whose kiss is a death sentence.

This book is an emotionally charged, sapphic love story of healing through trauma, reclaiming yourself after tragedy, and trusting another to catch you when you fall.

Meet me in Berlin by Samantha L. Valentine

"If we lose each other, then we’ll come back to this spot, on this day, at this time, every year until we find each other."

But how do you find someone from the other side of the world when you only know their first name, and the only plan you made to reunite was to meet in a Berlin park in late August at 6 pm, eleven years ago?

The Ride of Her Life by Jennifer Dugan

Molly dreams of starting her own wedding planning company when she inherits a run-down, struggling horse barn, courtesy of her late aunt.

But maybe — if she can sell the land, the profits could be the small-business seed money miracle she’s been waiting for.

The real snag in her plan is Shani. Judgmental, grouchy Shani, who thinks she’s so morally superior because she hasn’t given up on the crumbling barn while Molly wants to “destroy” everything her aunt built; who’s really good with the horses, and always comes whenever Molly calls her in a panic; and is actually kind of thoughtful, and obnoxiously hot, and has Shani become an entirely different kind of problem? One Molly can’t possibly solve, no matter how much her heart wants to?

For Love or Scandal by J.J. Arias

Laney Menendez, a once-celebrated Hollywood director, has a chance at a comeback. The catch? She must first marry her brother’s soap-star boyfriend to stop him from being outed by a tabloid.

For Laney, the lavish fake wedding is meant to be all business, until she meets the wedding planner, Jennifer Acosta.

Their attraction is instant and undeniable. As Laney and Jennifer work closely planning the wedding, stolen moments stoke the flames of a passion too powerful to resist.

Immerse yourself in this steamy tale where fantasy and reality entwine. Love makes its own rules, and for Laney and Jennifer, the fake wedding of the year may just be the start of something real.

Before You Were Mine by Heidi Lowe

After the intercity bus she's traveling on crashes into a bridge, Abigail wakes up in a hospital in Utah with no memory of who she is.

Unsure of when, or even if, her memory will return, she settles into her new life in Oakwood, where she meets Tiffany, a nurse she befriends while hospitalized. Abby knows it would be unwise to get involved with someone while her past is still a blur, so she tries to ignore her growing feelings for the beautiful woman. But as the two grow closer, and things get serious between them, Abby is finally ready to put her unknown past to bed... Which might be a problem for James, her husband of two years.

Graceless by Ruby Landers (book Two of the Grace Notes Trilogy)

Savannah Grace is on top of the world when her younger sister Cassidy shows up on her doorstep with one plan and one plan only: for her sister to turn her into a star.

Savannah’s nanny Lane has grown all the way up, from a cute punk kid to a classic handsome heartbreaker, a long trail of short flings in their wake. They don’t have a second to waste on Cassidy, after all she’s rude, ignorant, hot-tempered and kind of a brat. It’s just… does their boss’s little sister have to be so hot? Of course things could always get worse.

Of course, Sarah Waters' books:

1. Fingersmith

Sue Trinder is an orphan, left as an infant in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, a "baby farmer," who raised her with unusual tenderness, as if Sue were her own.

Mrs. Sucksby’s household, with its fussy babies calmed with doses of gin, also hosts a transient family of petty thieves—fingersmiths—for whom this house in the heart of a mean London slum is home.

One day, the most beloved thief of all arrives—Gentleman carries with him an enticing proposition for Sue: If she wins a position as the maid to Maud Lilly, a naïve gentlewoman, and aids Gentleman in her seduction, then they will all share in Maud’s vast inheritance. Once the inheritance is secured, Maud will be disposed of—passed off as mad, and made to live out the rest of her days in a lunatic asylum.

With dreams of paying back the kindness of her adopted family, Sue agrees to the plan. Once in, however, Sue begins to pity her helpless mark and care for Maud Lilly in unexpected ways...But no one and nothing is as it seems in this Dickensian novel of thrills and reversals.

2. The paying guests

It is 1922 and in South London, in a genteel Camberwell villa—a large, silent house now bereft of brothers, husband, and even servants—life is about to be transformed, as impoverished widow Mrs. Wray and her spinster daughter, Frances, are obliged to take in lodgers.

With the arrival of Lilian and Leonard Barber, a modern young couple of the “clerk class,” the routines of the house will be shaken up in unexpected ways. Little do the Wrays know just how profoundly their new tenants will alter the course of Frances’s life—or, as passions mount and frustration gathers, how far-reaching, and how devastating, the disturbances will be

3. Affinity

An upper-class woman recovering from a suicide attempt, Margaret Prior has begun visiting the women’s ward of Millbank prison as part of her rehabilitative charity work. Amongst Millbank’s murderers and common thieves, Margaret finds herself increasingly fascinated by an apparently innocent inmate, the enigmatic spiritualist Selina Dawes. Selina was imprisoned after a séance she was conducting went horribly awry, leaving an elderly matron dead and a young woman deeply disturbed.

Margaret is soon drawn into a twilight world of ghosts and shadows, unruly spirits and unseemly passions, until she is at last driven to concoct a desperate plot to secure Selina’s freedom, and her own.

4. Tipping the velvet

Nan King is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act.

At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins.

Turbulence by E. J. Noyes

Stockbroker Isabelle Rhodes has a lot of money, a lot of trust issues, and a whole lot of reasons to believe her ex-girlfriend was right when she said that Isabelle sucked at relationships. With that accusation stuck in her head, Isabelle throws caution to the wind and dives into her first one-night stand. Checking that off her bucket list should be something to celebrate—except it turns out that the woman she just spent an earth-shattering night with is actually her newly hired company pilot, Audrey Graham.

Concerned about the stigma of workplace dalliances, Isabelle vows it can’t go further than the one night. Good plan—if not for an insistent libido and an even more persistent Audrey who conspires to break Isabelle’s resolve. Soon their no strings arrangement starts to feel a lot like dating, and Isabelle finds herself wanting more than just casual nights together

Fear Of Falling by Georgia Beers

Since she was fourteen, singer Sophie James has been an international superstar. With her career (and life) directed by her manager, Ray, she hasn’t had to worry about a thing for more than a decade. But when Ray has a heart attack, Sophie is left without the only real father figure she’s ever known and questioning everything she believes about what’s important to her.

Enter Dana Landon, the new manager sent by Sophie’s record company. Dana is gorgeous, sophisticated, and ready to do her job keeping Sophie’s career on track and making the record company money. Dana captures Sophie’s attention in ways Sophie never expected--and isn't ready for, but after so many years of being told what to do, Sophie’s ready to shake things up with some ideas of her own.

[sidekick-hero]

to the rhythm of eternity

(steddie | explicit | 16.8k | tags: Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Smut, Christmas Fluff)

This was written for the STuad server gift exchange as a gift for @scarcrossdlvrs 💜 I hope I did your 'Long Distance' prompt justice, Bee!

December 2023

"I can't wait for you to get here, Stevie."

Eddie's voice sounds muffled through the headset, almost too quiet with all the noise around him. The video quality is shitty too, because while it's not even noon for Steve in Chicago, the sun has already set in London and Eddie is walking to the Phoenix Theater to start setting up the sound for the evening show. Steve can see the streetlights in the background casting shadows across Eddie's face. It's a busy street Eddie's walking down and people keep bumping into him, the chatter around him mixing with the sound of passing cars. From the looks of it, it must be Piccadilly, which means Eddie is almost at his current place of employment.

"Me too. God, I miss seeing your stupidly pretty face outside of a tiny screen with a shitty solution." Steve's sigh is tinged with longing instead of annoyance. It's not Eddie's fault that he had to cut back on the bandwidth for their video calls when he was out. The six-hour time difference only made it more difficult for them to both be home with decent broadband to talk. Or do other things.

Eddie grinned down at the screen, and even with the poor solution and bad lighting, Steve could see the pleased expression on his boyfriend's face. "Aww, you think I'm pretty? Stevie, I had no idea." Eddie coos, making it sound like a joke. Steve knows it's not, not really. Which is stupid, because Eddie is one of the most attractive guys Steve has ever seen, with his big brown doe eyes and full lips and interesting nose, tattoos littering the skin of his lithe body. If Steve were there right now, he would grab Eddie and kiss him silly, showing him exactly how pretty Steve thought he was.

"Baby, you know how beautiful I think you are. And how sexy and sweet and funny..." Steve teases, keeping it light, while reassuring his boyfriend that for Steve, Eddie is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

"Okay, okay, big boy, I get it. I guess I just need you to show me when you get here." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and winks, looking like the biggest dork in existence with his giant headphones and his nose red from the cold and that beloved toothy grin that Steve needs to kiss, like, yesterday.

He quickly scanned the hallway outside his office to make sure no one was coming in before lowering his voice to that deep, seductive tone he usually only uses when they're both under the sheets with their cocks on their hands. "Oh baby, believe me, when I finally get my hands on you, I'm going to show you as many times as you can take it. And then some if you're good."

His words have the desired effect, as Eddie pauses for a moment to put a hand to his face before pressing his phone to his chest and turning the screen black. Steve can make out the faint "jesus h. christ" over the noise, probably because he knew how Eddie would react after two years with him.

Eddie doesn't stop for long though, pushed forward by the crowd around him. "You're a menace, Harrington. A bloody menace, I tell ya."

"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk British to me." It's said in a teasing voice, but there's some truth to it. Eddie's accent had been one of the first things that had piqued Steve's interest when they first met. It's no secret that he loves it when his boyfriend uses it to rile him up even more.

"You've got some weird kinks, Stevie."

"Only for you," Steve says and then adds with a voice that is only for Eddie's ears these days, "I can't wait to show you all the dirty things I think about when I'm alone in bed with my hard cock in my hand, wishing it was your hand or your mouth or, fuck, your ass gripping it tight." He doesn't have to play up the moan that follows, because it's been five months since they last saw each other, and Steve is almost certain he's going to come in his pants the moment Eddie gives him a hug.

"Bloody hell, I'm in public! You can't just... There are rules, Steven. Rules." Judging by the edge of desperation in Eddie's voice, he's not alone in his need.

"Guess you'll have to punish me then, huh? Show me my place."

"Oh, look, I'm at the theater. My place of employment. Guess we'll have to table this lovely discussion until you get here and we have some privacy to talk this over more thoroughly."

"Can't wait, baby. Love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Only one more day before he can hold Eddie in his arms again. Despite all the dirty talk, that's what Steve is looking forward to the most. He can almost feel the comforting weight of Eddie against him, the solid and warm body wrapped tightly in his arms, Eddie's breath on his neck and Steve's nose buried in his dark curls.

With another longing sigh, Steve looks at the clock on the wall before picking up his pen again to go over the remaining paperwork on his desk. Eight hours until his flight to London, he might as well get some last minute work done before he takes the rest of the year off to stay with Eddie.

READ THE REST ON AO3

[chloe-skywalker]

Tell Him - Kelly Severide

Kelly x fem!reader

Warnings: I think the request says it all if its even a warning

Word count: 630

Requested:can i request for kelly severide where reader is asexual, but she tries to force her self into having sex with kelly (maybe cos she hears kelly talking with the guys about her not having sex with him) and she feels awful (btw kelly doesnt know she is asexual) and then she tries to have sex with him and when he takes off her bra she has a panic attack and kelly comforts her - @alanalanalanalanalana

Authors Note: I looked into the asexuailty since I personally don’t know anyone who Identifies as that so I hope it was to your liking. Thank you for your request.

Masterlist

One Chicago Masterlist

******************************************************************

“You should just tell him.” Stella told her stressed friend.

“Yeah, Y/n. He would totally understand.” Sylvie nodded in agreement.

“No one can predict how he’ll take it.” Y/n shook her head with a solemn expression.

Stella reached over, putting a hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “Kelly’s not an ass. He won’t judge.” 

“Yeah, no way. I bet he’d be supportive.” Sylvie added, she thought Stella was right. Kelly has a heart of gold, he wouldn’t judge Y/n.

But they both understood why she was nervous, they after all had heard Kelly talking with the guys too.

Y/n decided to take their advice and talk with Kelly, but first she just wanted to try once more with him. Maybe she could get herself to just ‘do it’ and not have to tell him.

Later that night when they were home at their shared place. Y/n decided to try her last ditch effort. So she stepped out in her bathrobe wearing a new set of lingerie. As she stood in the doorway to the hallway she spoke up. “Hey, I got something that I want to show you. So can you come here?”

“The games on you woman bring it out here?” he responded not removing his eyes from the t.v.

“Well, it’s kinda a bedroom activity.” y/n answered with a seductive tone.

Which of course got his attention. “Oh, well then.”

They got pretty far. Entered the bedroom, both of them laughing. Both undressed, well mostly. Kelly layed on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and pillows. Kelly leaned forward kissing Y/n’s neck. As he reached up running his hands up her back, Y/n felt her heartrate pick up. But once he went to unclip her bra, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go through with it.

“y/n?” Kelly pulled back when he felt her breathing pick up. “Y/n, are you alright?”

Y/n tried to answer but couldn’t, she realized she was having a panic attack and she’s sure Kelly figured it out to.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized after recovering from the panic attack and calmed her breathing. Y/n buried her head in his chest out of embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry. But Y/n, we never have to do anything you don’t want to. Never. But I think I deserve and need to know what's wrong. Did I do something?” Kelly wasn’t wrong, he did need and deserve to know. Especially since he didn’t really do anything wrong like he’s thinking.

“I overheard you talking with the guys the other day and-”

“Hey, what you heard, yeah maybe I should of just come straight to you but. Y/n/n, I don’t know what's going on and I needed advice. We keep being inches from having sex and then something happens.” Kelly shook his head pushing her back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I need to know. Did I do something? Are you not ready to take that step yet? What is it?”

Y/n knew she needed to tell him now. Or there might not be a relationship now. “I’m asexual.”

There was a few minutes of silence before he answered. Which made y/n even more nervous.

“That's it?” Kelly furrowed his eyebrows before letting out a breath of relief, giving her a soft sweet smile. “Y/n, if you don’t want to have sex when I’m trying to inicate it then just tell me. If there’s something I can do to make sex more comfortable to you than, please tell me. If I’ve learned anything about relationships it’s that we always need to talk about things. Okay?”

“Okay.” Y/n nodded smiling. Stella and Slyvie were right, he didn’t judge.

Taglist: @padawancat97

[klonnieshippersclub]

Flirting in Bloodshed

I'm so happy to see everything that's been created for Klonnie Week(end). This is my entry for Day 4 (I know I'm late!) set in my favorite time period of the 1920s. It's the origin story of how they become "Enemies with Benefits." Hope you enjoy it.

Klaus slammed open his apartment door with a force that shook the building. Ten of his men were dead and who knew who to blame. Those Chicago witches were out of control. Little Bonnie Bennett had gone and created a coven for herself claiming she didn't like how he ran the city. Who was she to challenge his authority? To him, it all seemed like the Bennett witch was throwing a temper tantrum over Gloria choosing to place her loyalty with him instead of her fellow witches.

He had removed his jacket when a scent hit his nose. Honey. Someone was in his home. Bonnie was in his home. He let his senses lead him to  the darkness of his bedroom and spotted a shadowy figure by the window upon opening the door.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Bonnie said as she stepped closer to him and the moonlight from the window made her glow. 

Klaus couldn't help but be mesmerized by her and the way her blue dress clung to her body. He was so distracted by her pouty lips that he didn't hear a word she said. “Pardon?”

Bonnie's glare had him frozen in place. “Both of you planned on using me for my blood!” Gloria was supposed to be her mentor and Klaus was just supposed to be a flirtatious customer at the bar. She knew they were hiding something, but didn't think they would turn against her.

“You can trust me,” he responded with a smirk painted on his face. “I think we should be in a partnership for the good of the city instead of rivals.”

Klaus was reminded that her anger brought death to his soldiers. Bonnie was young and inexperienced, but powerful enough to be an incredible threat. It would be best to placate her and end this conflict for the survival of his vampire army.

Bonnie scoffed, “I don't enter partnerships with pathetic liars. What are you good for?”

Klaus closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her hips. “I can show you exactly what I'm good for.”

“I was foolish enough to entertain you before but never again.”

“Oh please, we both know you loved the attention.”

“Who doesn't love a little flattery?” Bonnie defended with a soft push against his chest. “Your pretty words were truly meaningless.”

“You didn't feel that way before.”

“I didn't know who you were or that Gloria was working for you back then.” It was all a deception. Gloria’s kindness was a ruse to get closer to Bonnie and get access to Bennett blood. Bonnie supposed Klaus only attempted to romance her, so he’d have another witch in his pocket. No, she would not partner with such manipulators. 

“That isn't true,” Klaus seductively whispered. “Our chemistry is very real.”

Bonnie sighed, “this foolishness must end. Gloria's deceit has triggered a war between our species and we are obviously on different sides.”

“You are silly enough to try to defeat me?” Klaus questioned.

With a tilt of her chin, Bonnie confidently boasted, “I know I can and so do you.”

“Not before I ravish you first.”

[hldailyupdate]

Mere days after winning “Artist of the Year” at the inaugural Northern Music Awards, Louis Tomlinson is celebrating the only way he knows how – by giving back. Tomlinson just dropped a surprise album, which includes a curated list of live performances over the past years. It’s a risky move, as live albums are notoriously difficult to make worthwhile. But there’s no doubt about it: Tomlinson is deserving of that award, and the recordings on Louis Tomlinson: LIVE deserve to live forever.

After an initial stop-start to his solo career, Tomlinson has certainly flourished since finally getting to hit the stage. He’s been touring extensively over the past few years, performing a mix of tracks from his first two albums. Both were solid records that heavily referenced anthemic, rich sonic soundscapes. In fact, Tomlinson previously admitted that he wrote certain tracks with a live show in mind. Indeed, songs like “Face The Music,” “Out Of My System” and “The Greatest,” from his No. 1 selling album Faith in the Future, absolutely benefit from the live instrumentals compared to their studio versions.

It isn’t often that live performances consistently seem to not only live up to but objectively improve the perfectly engineered studio recordings. Perhaps it’s the love that the album so clearly captures for live music that does it. The singer-songwriter is an avid fan of his own fans and gets to share a collective experience of joy with them. Just listen to the crowds serenading Tomlinson in return during “Chicago,” recorded live in – you guessed it, Chicago. From Tomlinson’s perspective, audiences across the world have always been part of breathing life into these live recordings. Now, people get to live that same experience with him by listening to this record that is woven together with impeccably mixed joyful screaming in the background.

Tomlinson’s storytelling isn’t hindered by the crowd’s reaction. Rather, it is bolstered by it. In both power ballads like “Common People” as well as raucous tracks like “Silver Tongues.” The live setting seems to function almost akin to a prism – each song shining brighter, richer, fuller. Perhaps the only track that is tighter in the original version, is the seductive “Written All Over Your Face.” Nonetheless, the instrumental break and palpable, wild excitement make for an enjoyable listen.

Similarly, right in the middle of the highly addictive “All This Time/We Are Beauty” mash-up, a fan can be heard screaming “I love you” if you listen closely. The sheer adulation of the crowd is decidedly earned. Tomlinson has worked hard to prove himself, despite never having lacked the talent. Perhaps merely the confidence that he could do it, would do it, has done it. Nevertheless, he’s been open about the tension between his own love for music, and his at times debilitating need for perfection. As he’s settled into his career, a quiet undertone of determination and grit, of relief and fulfillment – of gratitude remains in every single show.

On “Saturdays,” you can actually hear Tomlinson mumble that the view’s never been better from where he’s stood on stage. It’s a high-maintenance track with all the right ingredients for a Tomlinson classic. There’s confessional lyricism, emotive delivery, and a gradual yet powerful crescendo in musical arrangement. It needs to be sung with conviction, and it’s clear that Tomlinson pulls power from the audience to deliver.

Notably, none of the covers that Tomlinson frequently incorporates in his concerts made it onto this live album. With that in mind, perhaps this release signals that Tomlinson has finally embraced his own artistry. Because if anything, Louis Tomlinson: LIVE is a reckless celebration record. An ode to joy, the synergy between artist and audience, and the impact of well-timed, flawlessly executed live guitar solos.

[artemis1214]

MEET ESME ROSE LUCIANO!

Hello! 👋🏼

These are some headcanons for my Hazbin Hotel OC, Esme! If you would like to read more about Esme's story, you can check out my Wattpad story "A Siren's Spell".

HELLA SPOILERS AHEAD!

Human Life (1900-1932) 

As a child, Esme was very friendly and bubbly. She was everyone's best friend and the little major of Manhattan. 

Would love to pet the horses leading the carriages in front of her father’s bar. 

Esme’s mother would always try to keep her away from the family ‘business’, but little Esme always found herself listening in on the men's conversations and meetings. 

Natural flirt as a teenager, but only had one boyfriend in New York.

Natural mother figure to Anthony from their connected families.

Cool aunt vibe for Molly and Anthony. (Would buy them ice cream on the regular when their parents weren't around).

Would float in a raft in the Hudson River, smoking a cigarette in the summer. 

Very protective of her younger sister, would stand up to bullies, and get in trouble with the nuns at school. 

Raised Catholic. 

Libra.

Used by her father to lure men to his work and steal their money. 

Gets "too involved" in the business and gets sent to New Orleans to basically hide away.

Has a very seductive luxurious transatlantic accent, but alone drops to a casual crisp New York tone. 

Accent drops completely when upset or cursing.

Always smells like vanilla and strawberries.

Lots of chocolate martinis, vodka cranberries, and red wine. 

Long hair because she hates thinking about fitting into societal beauty standards (no flapper hair here!).

Heavy sweet tooth. 

Big bookworm.

Theme Songs: 

“You don’t own me” 

"My Days" - The Notebook on Broadway

"Roxie" - Chicago

"Gangsta" - Kehlani

"So, this is love?"

Always carries a silent pistol in her purse.

Very charming, seductive, playful, and secretive. 

Steals Mimzy's spot as the head girl at the speakeasy.

Singer, burlesque performer.

Also plays piano.

Alastor watches her from the back of the parlor, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

Meets Alastor immediately but senses something ‘off’ about him. 

Hella sexual tension right off the bat. 

Threatens him with her pistol when she discovers who he is. 

Not phased by many of Al’s doings as she watched her father kill men all the time. 

“You don’t scare me." 

Has a smart mouth that often gets her in trouble when men. 

Has spit in men’s faces before.

“Fuck you.” These are her two favorite words for them.

Is disgusted by men. 

“Men are dogs, I like my dogs on four legs.” 

Very possessive, protective, and jealous. 

When the two get married she becomes similar to a New York mob wife. 

“No Alasta, you’re not killin’ on a Sunday! Sunday is a holy day - plus I made meatballs!” 

Goes for the eyes when she kills people, “You really do have pretty eyes, wonder how long they’ll take to cut out.”

Will ship the remains to their parents as a “warning.” 

Going to the water when she is stressed out, usually the dock near her house.

Alastor will drive fast down empty roads so she can hang out of the car and let her hair flow.

ALWAYS has a record on the spinner and espresso brewing.

Their house smells like coffee 24/7.

Angelic, alluring voice with a natural jazzy ring to it if she so pleases when she sings.

BIG flirt and entertainer when drunk or high.

Very strong siren eyes when she is singing, performing, or talking to someone. 

HATES spicy food (Alastor’s cooking nearly kills her every time)

Will request a seafood broil every single time he cooks for her.  

If Alastor’s mother were to be alive, these two would be BEST FRIENDS! 

She’d probably make plans to hang out with just her - not Alastor (lol!). 

Date nights of just cooking their respective recipes. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T LIKE MY LASAGNA?!” 

Their song is “It’s Been a Long, Long, Time” by Kitty Kallen.

COUPLE THEME SONG: ACROSS THE STARS FROM STAR WARS.

Hella foreshadowing (Padme/Anakin vibes)

Speaks Italian when upset 

Che Cazzo?!

Che palle?!

Figlio di puttana!

Affectionate pet names for those she cares for 

“Lovey” - Her sister Margo 

“My Dove” - Her daughter, Genevieve 

“Sweetheart” - Alastor 

NEVER shows up to an event empty-handed. She’ll feed everyone there. 

Love language is def quality time and cooking.

Flirts with Alastor around his secretary to make her jealous 

Basically the second in command when she's at Alastor's office.

You better do whatever Esme asks or he will kill you (no joke).

“Let that bitch hear.” Vibes. 

Brat 

Submissive/Switch

Masochist

Big softie as a mother, complete domestic. 

Loves children and animals. 

No longer works at the speakeasy.

Becomes a housewife.

Can have hella anxiety/depression.

Doesn't cope with things properly and will shut herself out from everyone if upset.

Emotionally numb from losing so many people in her life.

At the end of her story, she realizes it's going to be him or her...

"Veronica, open the door please!" Vibes.

"Where is Padme, is she safe? Is she alright?" 

“It seems in your anger, you killed her…”

BIG THANKS TO @hoomandoescosplay FOR HELPING WITH THESE HEADCANONS! LOVE YOU GIRLYPOP! 💗