#this is kinda spicy

[wolfertinger666]

fuck queer sanitization!!!

(ft @wis-art Łucja) 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

[togekk0]

[gabumk]

🦊🐱

I wanted to draw them older, since I imagine that only after a few years together would Andrew let Neil touch him like that. But I ended up drawing them in the Palmetto uniform because I wanted you to recognize them even without seeing their faces. hope u like it even It’s just a Wip tho🙌

[zevrra]

when jayce had asked you to help him out at the forge you had something else in mind; like actually working in the forge with him. and it was kinda like that in the very beginning so you’re not sure what you said or what you did that riled him up so but…whatever it was, it worked very well.

away from the main heat of the forge, jayce had you bent over his sketching desk. one large hand of his cupping your hip while the other held tight onto your shoulder. he’s slotted him and his cock right between the plump of you thighs. most likely wanting to tease you as you had been doing to him; giving you what you both wanted while only giving him the true satisfaction.

“keep your thighs together. tighter.” jayce orders, as he moves ever so slightly in between your skin.

you can’t help but tense and shiver at his demanding tone. you rarely got to see this side of jayce, only when he was truly frustrated and you couldn’t lie even if you wanted to; it was really fucking hot. so hot, it made your head spin as you did what you were told for once. pressing your thighs tighter together, listening to the way jayce groans from the added pressure. his hands are tight enough to leave bruises along your skin as his hips begin to move. the head of his cock slides along your panties and the curve of your cunt, bumping into your clit with every harsh thrust of his hips.

“fuck,” jayce grunts, his hips moving faster. causing you to grip the edge of the desk for any kind of support as he actively fucks against you. “i can feel how wet you are through your underwear. it feels so good.” he groans, hot and heavy while another grunt slips past his lips when your thighs tense at his words.

“jayce!” you bark out, moaning at a particularly well placed thrust against your cunt. and you swear you can almost hear jayce laughing at your desperate mewling but it doesn’t slow him down; not in the slightest. he fucks faster and harder against your soaking cunt. attempting to reach his end quicker than usual; which wouldn’t be a problem for him at all. what with the added adrenaline of being in public and the risk of being caught creeping up his spine, he had to finish quickly.

jayce groans at his rising orgasm. grips your skin a little harder while he plants his teeth against the back of your neck, leaving a beautiful hickey to blossom by tomorrow morning. “feels so good…gonna cum already…” jayce huffs against your skin, placing a kiss against the bite mark he had left. your thighs tighten once again at his filthy words. your entire body trembles and jolts with his brutal, eager pace he’s set. the slap of skin on skin somehow is louder inside your ears than the roar of the fire inside the forge.

jayce turns chaotic then. chasing after his high with each thrust between your thighs. his breath catches in his throat, hiccuping, while your name spills from his lips as his orgasm rushes over his entire body. but at the last second, before his orgasm can truly take hold of him, jayce is smoothing his hands down your ass and gripping the seam of your underwear. where he yanks the fabric aside and presses the head of his cock right against your glistening cunt. he wildly fucks between the inside of your panties, right between your lips, slipping himself in and out in quick succession to finally tip over the edge. he grunts, biting his bottom lip as he paints across your pussy and your underwear, riding his orgasm out.

you moan helplessly, fingernails gripping into the desk for dear life as you feel jayce finally give you a single ounce of satisfaction. electricity tingles up your spine as jayce finally touches your cunt but it doesn’t last as long as you would have liked; for as soon as jayce finishes his orgasm, he’s readjusting your underwear back into place. his fingers run along the curve of your now soiled panties, planting a kiss against your shoulder.

“i have work to do,” jayce whispers, his fingers curling against your desperate cunt, forcing another moan out of your mouth. “behave now and i’ll give you what you really want soon, pretty girl.”

[alesshi]

[jothemouse]

And WOW! Another commission!!??!?!?! And this one very specifically for the Harvey lovers❤️‍🔥 ;)

Thank you to @peachygoliath-blog for commissioning me!!!

And a close up just for fun ;333

And if you, dear viewers, would like a commission of your own, they are still open!! Or if you'd like to just offer your support I have ko-fi and, as always, the best way to support me is just by reblogging!!!

[skipar00]

whoda thought itd be hetalia that would get me out of my depression slump

[lgbtlunaverse]

I feel like too often people frame Nie Mingjue's issues as ignorance borne from safety. Like, they think that because of his privilege as a sect leader he doesn't know what it's like to be in danger and forced to make hard choices to survive. And I disagree. Strongly.

First of all, Nie Mingjue is very familiar with death not only from war but from. You know. Actively dying since the age of fourteen. Let us not forget Nie Mingjue is dead! Super dead! And maybe he didn't die the exact way he expected to but he did, absolutely, know he was going to die. To act like Nie Mingjue is unfamiliar with the scenario of "do something you find morally reprehensible or die" is to ignore that he has been living that exact scenario and chose death.

Nie Mingjue knows death is a risk for someone like Jin guangyao, in fact he explicitly acknowledges it even in his worst moments like the stairs in chapter 49. Had his issue been ignorance, then he would've responded to Jin Guangyao saying that he's in danger and has to sacrifice others for his own safety with "No you aren't you'll be fine." But he doesn't. He accepts the fact that jgy is in danger with no qualms and says: then you should die.

That's not him betraying his values, those are his values. He is, essentially, pro-suicide. Jgy is like hey I have a moral dilemma what should I do and nmj straight up goes "Kill yourself" and earlier that same chapter when he was faced with a moral dilemma he went "I'm gonna kill myself." He believes the solution to moral dilemmas is suicide! He is extremely consistent about this! When it's pointed out to him that it would have been dangerous for Wen Qing to oppose Wen Ruohan it doesn't phase him because he thinks putting yourself at risk to do the right thing is the only moral choice. The idea that he can only hold this belief because he is himself somehow not in danger, again, requires you to ignore that he is dying the whole time. And it doesn't deter him. He is the idea of self-sacrifice as a moral good taken to its absolute logical extreme. Someone who is ready to die and demands the same from everyone else.

It makes him a very fun case study for fandom, because a lot of fandom spaces also tend to revere self-sacrifice as the ultimate good, and yet we get very uncomfortable when someone starts demanding it of characters we love. Like woah, hold on, that's a bit too far isn't it? Only we the audience get to do that!

[shuravf]

I’m not used to drawing these kind of intimate scenes but I want to learn and I’m kinda obsessed with them right now.

[wolfertinger666]

Salem fashion

(HE/HIM) 🐇🏳️‍⚧️💜

[grimalkinscribbles]

Sweaty disco twink

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Worship

Summary: Geta confronts his spouse after a situation and the tables are turned in the way that he wasn't expecting.

Pairing: Geta x Gender - neutral reader

A/N: Yes the summary sucks and I'm not sure if I like how this turned out, but please let me know if this was decent. I don't tend to write shorts or scenes that lead to more that often. I tried to make this gender neutral, hopefully I did okay 😅.

“Worship me!” 

Emperor Geta approached his spouse with a beast like hunger, his hand moved to grab their chin roughly. His dark brown eyes darkened as he forced their head to face him, searching their face for any sign of reluctance. Their eyes narrowed in indignation at the tone that their husband chose to speak to them, perhaps Geta was upset or a council meeting had not gone his way, but they refused to let him take out his frustration out on them and not think to speak about it. 

With a lack of response from his spouse, Geta repeated himself, “Are you deaf? You know I don’t like to repeat myself, I said worship me.”

"I heard you" they said. "But I don't care much for your tone and refuse to let you treat me this way.” 

Geta’s sharp gaze narrowed further still at their words, his temper flaring up in a matter of seconds. His fingers clamped down harder, the pads of his fingers tightening.

“Did I give you the impression I was asking for your consideration, beloved? No. I don’t care how the hell you like me to speak, you’re going to listen to what I say and do it without question.” 

They scowled and ripped away from him, "Keep speaking to me this way and acting as you are and I won't hesitate to cut off your cock.”

A snarl formed on the man’s face at their threat, it was uncommon for his spouse to be so blatant in their refusal. They were usually so docile in his presence and his requests. 

He clearly wasn’t happy.

“Is that a threat I hear?” He growled out, his fingers balling into a tight fist at his side. “You would dare make threats against your husband’s manhood?” 

"It seems like you are lacking it without my help,” they scoff. "You can't speak to me curtly with no explanation and expect me to treat you with respect you aren't giving me.”

That snapped the man’s self control and the look in his eyes turned feral in an instant, his hand shooting out to wrap around their throat as he took the last few steps towards them. He pinned them against the nearest wall, his body pressing forward to trap them between him and the cold surface.

“You insolent little -.” He hissed, his grip on their neck constricting. “How many times do I have to warn you not to speak that way to me? I am your husband.”

They smirk and pressed closer, "Go ahead, do your worst, husband.”

A dangerous look flashed through the man’s eyes as he leaned in closer, his body practically flush against them. The anger, the lust, the need. It was all swirling around inside him, his self control slipping away with each passing second. He’d always thought their spouse was cute when they fought back.

“You’re just begging for it, aren’t you? I should teach you a lesson, beloved.”

Their hand reached out and tugged at the belt of his robe, "Do you think I deserve to be punished?"

A shiver ran up his spine as he felt them tugging on the belt of his robe. His self control was a mere thread at this point, the sound of his heavy breath filling the air between them.

“You’re damn right,” he responded gruffly, his hands moving to loosen the tie of his robe just enough for the sash to fall open. The fabric of his robe hung open, exposing a strip of the bare skin of his chest. “On your knees, now.” 

They hum in thought, "I don't think so, husband.” They stepped away from Geta and moved to sit comfortably on the edge of their shared bed. "I think it's you that needs to do some groveling.”

His expression darkened the moment they stepped away, his eyes narrowing once again. He’d been so close to them, so damn close to having them under him where he wanted. But they just had to be difficult.

“Me on my knees?” He repeated incredulously, taking a couple of steps in their direction. “You expect me, a god, the Great Emperor himself, to grovel? You must be delusional.”

They crook a finger and teasingly requests him closer, "But aren't I your spouse and therefore a god in need of worshipping?"

He paused and growled in frustration as they beckoned him closer with that teasing crook of their finger. 

But they were right.

They were the spouse of the Emperor, another god in the flesh. He let out a sigh before slowly approaching them, his hands moving to rest on their thighs as he stood in front of them.

“Damn you. You know I can never resist when you say things like that.”

They wrap their arms around his neck and give him a sultry smile, "But you love me for it, don't you?"

A shiver ran down his spine again as their arms wrapped around his neck, their smile was just as powerful as their words against him. A slow smirk formed on his face as his hands skimmed up the length of their thighs, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of their own robe.

“Yes,” he purred out, his gaze flickering between their face and the cleavage of the robe. “I love you, but you know just how to drive me insane.”

"Well?" they say. "How do you intend on worshipping your god? Or will I have to find myself another.”

A dark look flashed through his eyes at the mention of his spouse finding another to worship them in the way only he should. Geta would sooner cut his way through an army of men before he let that happen. They were his, no one else’s. His hands gripped their thighs tighter, fingers digging into the plump flesh as he lowered himself to his knees before them.

“You’re not going to find another,” he growled out, his hands moving underneath the fabric of their robe as he looked up at them. “I’m the only one worthy enough to worship a god like you.”

They cup his face and smirk, "Then worship.”

[gabumk]

Paint over of a scene from “Mary & George”

I haven't watched the series yet (I'm dying to watch it, btw) but I saw a gif on Twitter and my automatically thought LAMEN. So I did it🫶

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price is left melancholy after his soon to be ex-wife makes him feel worthless. Nik is there to make him see some home truths.

cw: Price is married but separated with divorce papers on his kitchen table; dirty talk, kissing, groping, handjob in the disabled cause they're bloody classy lads. Potentially Part 1 of 2 because the set up is good for Price's first gay romp.

Price watched the foam pop against the rim of his pint glass, thumb smearing up and down the condensation. He had selected a table in the far corner, closed in by the tall backs of the benches, so when Nik arrived he didn't immediately spot him. Price happened to glance up just as he started drifting with vodka glass in hand, and he lifted an arm to wave him over.

“Nik!”

The big Russian grinned and Price felt something in his chest pop loose. The anxious tension that had built in his shoulders eased away. Nik always had that effect, had for years.

“John, it is good to see you, comrade,” Nik said, stooping down to wrap an arm around Price's shoulders. Outside the formal setting of an operation, Nik abandoned the handshakes and claps on the back. Price found himself taking a deep breath as his nose pressed into Nik's shoulder, and his own relaxed. 

“‘Ow ya been?” Price asked as Nik flopped onto the bench opposite.

“Busy. There is something bubbling in China that may be of interest.”

“Oh yeah? Spill.”

Nik chuckled, took a sip of vodka, and proceeded to update John on the machinations of the Asian gangs he was working with, reminding Price that his best friend was pretty much a damn warlord and he was bloody lucky to be on his good side. 

As the story spun off into other stories, they knocked back their drinks, ordered a few more rounds, and John shared what he could of some recent missions. Unfortunately, the original question had to come back up eventually. “And you? How are things at home?”

Price swallowed, lips tugging down in a frown. Despite the warm glow of the alcohol, he felt a tight knot of icy tension in his gut. “The, uh… the missus ain't too happy wiv me at the moment. Glad you were free to meet, to be honest.”

Nik frowned. “Has something happened?”

This was the difficult part. It was embarrassing. Downright unmanly. But Nik was his longest serving friend, his closest, besides bloody Laswell and this wasn't something he could talk to her about. “She… uh, ya know she asked fer a baby.”

“Da,” Nik said, smiling gently. “And I said you would be an excellent father.”

Price managed a faint smile in return, but it faded as the weight of his situation pressed down on him. “‘m… uh, ‘m…” he scratched the back of his hand and rubbed at his beard. “‘m strugglin’ to give her one. So, she's uh… she's stayin’ wiv her parents ‘til I get my head sorted.”

“That seems a little drastic.”

“I, uh… she said some cruel fings, Nik, and I… uh, I said some fings back. Downright nasty, really. Lost my temper a bit. Not proud of it.”

The words ‘trial separation’ had been used because clearly Price didn't want what she did, and perhaps he needed to decide what he did want. It had felt overly dramatic, considering he'd only raised his voice and not a fist - he was a dickhead, not a thug - and Price had watched her drive away feeling deflated and lost. 

When the marriage had been arranged by his old man shortly before he died; daughter of another nco, needed a sturdy bloke with good breeding. They had hit it off fairly well; she was pretty, he was funny. Price had agreed because he was unlikely to ever meet someone with his work, and none of his previous relationships had blossomed into anything more than the odd shag. It had been difficult, but not entirely miserable, and she had been happy. Happy until it became clear he couldn't give her what she wanted. Two days later, the fuckin’ divorce papers had arrived with an ultimatum attached.

Price needed to fix this. And Nik was the best damn fixer in the business, right? The thought had been amusing at the time. Truth was, Price had reached out to one of the only sources of comfort he had. 

Nik leaned back and looked thoughtful. Price hadn't expected that reaction. Not the pause that followed, like Nik was mulling something over, nor the way Nik’s hand twitched on the table as if he wanted to reach out. “Have you been to a doctor?” he asked finally.

Price's cheeks reddened. “Yeah. Uh, ‘m fertile and ev'ryfin', healthy he said. I, uh… he reckons the issue’s in my head. I mean, I… ‘ve never really… but, she's always had a good time, right? I make sure of that, and…” Price couldn't look up from the table, which is why he saw and felt Nik's hand finally close around his, big fingers pushing into his palm to ease his fist loose. It was an odd gesture. No one ever really comforted Price in that way, or at all, really. And he found himself squeezing back a little, grateful for the anchor.

“It is okay, John. You do not have to be embarrassed with me,” Nik said, his voice soft. “Do you stay hard?”

Price swallowed, his ears burning. He looked up from the table because looking at their hands joined together, how… good they looked, was too much for some reason. “Yeah. For a decent amount of time. Rest of me gets tired first, an’ by then she's usually on her second or third, so… s’never been a problem.”

“Then it is the… end?”

“Yeah, it's… I don't, y’know, finish.”

“Have you tried foreplay?”

“O’ course, I always get her off first, you know, mouth, hands, an’ then–”

“Nyet, John,” Nik said, and Price could swear there was fond amusement in his voice. “Does she prepare you enough?”

Price sat there in silence for a moment, his damn face pulsing with heat. Nik's thumb was circling over the back of his hand and it felt bloody nice. Tender, like. “We kiss, an’ she gropes me a bit, wears cheeky lacy things sometimes, it gets things moving…”

“I see.” Nik didn't look impressed and Price felt like his sex life had just achieved a poor grade, despite his best efforts. He sat in silence for a moment, the rest of the world fading out as he watched Nik's hand. The rest of him felt… warm. A different kind of warmth to the burning embarrassment of his confession. More a low, gentle ebb at his core, a magnetism that made him want to sit closer to Nik's side. Nik hummed. “And you have never thought this was an issue before?”

“Well, there's sperm in pre, an’ I jus’... y’know, I sort myself out after while 'm in the shower and she's a’kip.”

“And she has never noticed?”

“She never really… well, she…” 

Price had nothing. She had commented on it once, giggling that he had the stamina of a Greek god, and he had taken it as a compliment. By the time he was finished, she was always wet and panting, her entire soft body flushed, shaking. He was good in bed. Had never disappointed any of the girls he'd been with. But the finishing thing had always been a… frustration. He’d just always assumed it was the job, the tiredness, the stress. Maybe an old wound. The doctor had put that last one to bed after a particularly in-depth physical.

“In the shower, what do you think of?” Nik asked.

“Nik, I… c’mon…”

“It is nothing to be ashamed of, John.”

“Her. Obviously. Ev’ryfin’ I just did.” 

“You are lying.”

Price was lying. Nik knew his tells even if no one else on the planet besides Laswell did. “It's not other women or porn,” Price said quickly. As if the truth was somehow better. The truth was… well, it was bloody worse.

“What do you think about? It is ok. No judgement.”

“I… uh…” John shifted in his seat, pulled his hand out of Nik's to grab his damn pint glass because the contact had suddenly become overwhelming. He took a slurp of beer, wiping the foam off his moustache with the back of his hands. “I… think of how good it would be to have a hand that… uh, that looked like mine tuggin’ me off.”

Truth was Price thought about other men. Not directly. He allowed his mind to glimpse flash images of them; not whole men, not with faces or names. Like opening a box and peeking inside for a split second, and then snapping it closed before the homosexual urges could escape. He focused on abstract things; a certain point on a muscular back, a hairy thigh, the shape and feel of his own hand as if it was someone else’s, the edge of a firm jawline. He had convinced himself that if he didn't ‘look directly at it’, then it wasn't… it wasn't anything.

“You think of men,” Nik said plainly. There was no judgement there. Why would there be? Nik liked men. He slept with them regularly. And there weren't nothing wrong with being gay; Laswell was gay too. That was all fine. Price loved them both, he… it was just…

“I don't fink of their cock and balls or nuffin’, you know, I… it's just their… just…”

Nik was watching him with a ponderous look. Price felt warm under his jacket, the fog of the alcohol making his mind a little loose. His gaze dropped down to Nik's hand again, the way it was so big, dwarfing the beer mat sat next to it. And then Nik was shifting, rolling to his feet and shuffling around the table. “Move over,” he murmured. And Price did, scooching over his bench to make room.

Nik slumped down, turned and tilted Price’s chin back up, because Price's gaze had dropped straight to the full chest now very close. He could smell Nik's cologne too and feel the warmth of his thigh against his. “I think you know what the problem is.”

Price’s whiskers twitched. “Lack of foreplay?”

“Nyet. You want to be touched by a man.” 

“Nik, ‘m not… ‘ve never been…” 

“You have struggled to ejaculate because you are not properly satisfied or aroused.”

“Oi, I get ‘ard, I said…”

Nik sighed, resting his elbow on the table by their empty pint glasses so he could tilt his head to his knuckles. “If you had an orgasm with a man, would you accept that I am right?”

“Had an orga–you jus’... Come out with that shit like…”

“Answer the question. You are a man of action, practical, you believe in proof, and–”

“Yeah, olrigh’!” Price said, a little too bloody loudly. He cleared his throat and dropped his voice. “Olrigh’... Yeah, I'd… if I did, and it… happened, ‘d ‘ave t’ accept that I was… that women aren't… that I might be a bit… fruity.”

Nik nodded and reached for his phone. “Then we will find you a man tonight.”

“Whot? Nik, are ya touched in the–I can't sleep with a rentboy,” Price hissed. He could imagine the headline: ‘best of the worst: sas captain arrested for solicitation’.

“I meant we could use Grindr to find you a partner. No payment needed.”

Price blinked. “That's a… that's a real thing?” Bloody Tindr required three dates, a home visit, several hundred quids worth of gifts and then you'd be lucky to get a peck on the lips. 

“Da. And you are handsome, in excellent physical shape, you would have no problem finding an offer.”

Price flushed, squirming a little in his seat. He actually started bloody well considering it, only to grunt and shake his head. “Naw, Nik, I… I can't. Wouldn' know what t’ do, what t’... put where. It'd… ‘d embarrass meself, wouldn' be able to trust him, I...”

Nik tucked his phone away and watched Price for a long moment with lidded eyes. Price could smell him, feel the heat of him, and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he just needed to feel close to someone, but he wanted to fold into Nik's arms. “Do you trust me?” Nik asked softly.

“Wiv me life, you know that. Don't ask stupid bloody questions.”

“With your body.”

Price looked up quickly from where his gaze had drifted down to Nik's hand again, big eyes blinking rapidly. “Ya mean, you… that is… you'd wanna… wiv me?”

“Da,” Nik sighed, dropping his hand to cover John's again, fingers sliding over the veins and grooves in the back to circle his wrist. “I must be honest. I would do anything for you, John. But this… this would be as much for me as it was for you.”

“Nik…” God, fuck, Nik was so close. Price adjusted in his seat, his thigh brushing closer to Nik's as he inhaled another deep lungful of his scent. Later, he could blame the alcohol, but the truth was he wasn't even that drunk; his inhibitions were lowered, his body relaxed thanks to Nik's proximity, and he was absolutely, achingly starved of affection. “I didn'... I never knew.”

“I love you as a close friend. I was not willing to sacrifice that for a foolish hope, but… I am a simple man, a weak man, and if there is even a chance of kissing you, then I–”

Price didn't let Nik finish. He closed that miniscule amount of distance between their lips and bloody kissed him. It sent a thrill down his spine, the chapped softness of Nik's mouth, the feel of his stubble so different to the smooth face he was used to. The warmth that had been coiling in his chest now ignited, building to a bonfire that made his skin light up, a tightness built in his groin that pressed against the fly of his jeans. 

When Nik kissed back, his tongue teasing past Price's teeth to caress over his, Price gasped. He reached out, hands scrambling blindly, and found purchase in Nik's shirt, knuckles against the firm wall of his chest as Nik pressed forward. 

They were hidden away from the rest of the pub back here, but Price wouldn't care either way, he wanted to get lost in Nik's mouth, pulled him closer. Nik’s hand curled behind John's head, while the other slid up the denim of his thigh. Price had to break the kiss as pressure built in his chest, and Nik nosed the side of his beard to kiss his neck. Price’s mouth fell open as Nik's hand slid higher, higher, until it cupped over the firm bulge over his crotch. His palm palpated in a slow ripple and Price pressed into it, biting back the moan sat in the back of his throat. It felt so fuckin’ good. The way Nik's palm was so big, so commanding, urging Price’s body to spread itself before him.

“Blyat, I need to touch you now…”

“We’re in the middle of a damn pub, Nik.” Price’s voice was tighter than his jeans, and he knew he should push Nik away, but damn his hand felt good and his lips were kissing just beneath Price's ear. His palm had left the back of his head to slide into his jacket, nails dragging over his ribs to trace circles up and down his spine. Price arched into him, pushing his shivering body into Nik's hand and mouth.

“Da. Come with me.”

Before he could protest, Nik was dragging him from the booth and towards the back of the pub. Price hoped everyone was too busy with their pints to notice his erection as it slid down his right trouser leg. The disabled toilet was empty and clean, and it was in there that Nik shoved Price before locking the door behind them. They waited briefly, both listening for a knock to protest, but when none came Nik pulled John to him by the collar of his jacket and kissed him again.

That same heat flooded his body instantly, hips drawn to Nik's by fingers threaded through his belt loops. This kiss was hungrier, deeper, and Price staggered as he was pushed towards the sink, boots squeaking on the tiled floor. When Nik pulled away, Price’s eyes dropped to Nik's lips, kissed red and glistening, and he leaned up to take the lower one gently between his teeth. Nik smiled, kissing him one last time before tilting his head back, and twisted Price to face the mirror. 

Those big hands swept beneath his shirt to stroke the firm plain of his stomach as he nuzzled kisses against his neck, working his way down to pick open Price’s belt and fly. Oh fuck, oh fuck, it was happening… this was happening. Price felt a sudden spike of panic and grabbed Nik's wrists. 

Nik stopped immediately. “Are you ok?” he asked softly, and Price felt the question against the hammering pulse in his neck.

“Yeah, I… are you sure? Y’ain’t jus’ doin’ this cause you… cause it's me.”

Nik chuckled, actually bloody chuckled. “Of course I am doing this because it is you,” he said, testing Price's grip by moving his wrists again. Price's zipper hissed as it slid down, his buckle clattering against his thighs, and then a big, warm hand was sliding over his cotton boxers to cup his balls. The heat and firmness of the touch was truly euphoric. “John, the things I want to do to you…”

“Yeah?” Price could barely breathe. Nik caressed over the cotton to the elastic of his waistband and slowly slid inside, grasping his cock at the base to lift it free of his underwear. Price got to watch the subject of his shower fantasies manifest in real time; a large, weathered hand, stroking slowly up and down his steel-hard prick, its veins pushing through velvet soft skin a slightly darker shade than the rest of him. His toes curled in his boots, his knees shaking, and Nik's arm curled around his chest just in time to keep him upright.

“Da,” Nik whispered, pressing a kiss into Price's hair. “How does it feel?”

“Mm, Nik, so good… fuckin’ ‘ell…” Price moaned, watching his cock leak precum over the edge of Nik's broad palm. Nik used it to ease the way, squeezing on the up stroke around Price's glans, letting his foreskin slide back and forth over his ruddy crown. “Tell me… tell me what ya wanna do to me, Nik.”

Nik massaged the side of Price's chest, sucking gently on his earlobe. “I will take you back to my hotel room and unwrap you like a gift. I will take you to shower where I will wash you, fuck your thighs, perhaps,” Nik teased his thumb through Price's slit and made his hips stutter.

“Nik, ahh…”

“Then I will spread you on my bed, make you hold your legs apart, and watch me work you open on my fingers.”

Price hadn't thought about what position he would take. Fuck, he'd never thought about what position Nik might want. Price’s default wouldn't have been to be penetrated, but apparently his body was keen on the idea, because his cock throbbed in Nik's grip, another long string of precum coating Nik's knuckles. The thought of Nik's thick fingers plunging into his body made him dizzy with want. “Fuck, ahh, fuck…”

“And when you are begging for release, I will stretch your virgin hole on my cock, John. You will take all of me, with your legs on my shoulders, or perhaps I will turn you on to your knees and make you present that pretty hole to me. Tell me you want that.”

“Oh god, fuck… yeah, mmph, yeah, Nik…” Nik's fist was pumping faster, his grip perfect, the smell of his cologne as intoxicating as the deep, husky growl making filthy promises in Price's ear and the filthy schlick of his palm up and down Price's cock. He wanted it. He wanted it all. The thought of Nik’s powerful body between his legs, his strong hands pressing him into the bed, or gripping his hips as Nik blanketed his back. Price's balls pulled tight and he latched onto Nik's jeans

“You will sob with pleasure, beg me to fuck you harder.”

“Nik, Nik!”

“And I will cum inside you, John. Leave you full of me after you have spent the night submitting your body to mine.”

It was enough. The imagery of Nik pressed balls deep inside him, thick body pressing Price to the mattress as he pumps him full, was enough. The orgasm licked up Price’s spine, locking his limbs as his cock pulsed in Nik's grip. Nik angled it down into the sink, Price's load painting the otherwise pristine porcelain in thick ropes. 

Nik milked him in slow, firm strokes until his cock stopped twitching, and then tilted his chin so that they could share a deep, possessive kiss that cradled Price perfectly in the afterglow. Nik’s hand vanished from Price’s sensitive flesh and Price heard the squeak of the tap, followed by the slosh of water. Several moments past, their kiss petered out to gentle, breathless pecks on sensitive lips, and then Price felt Nik return with a hand doused with warm water.

“Bloody ‘ell, full silver service,” Price whispered, glancing down to watch Nik tenderly rinse his cock and then the sink before turning the tap off. All while keeping Price pressed against his chest.

“There is a good shower at my hotel. If you will allow me, I will show you the real silver service.” 

“Ya mean ev’ryfin’ ya said… all of it.”

“I would take you against this wall, but I would want your first time to be less… casual.” 

Price swallowed. He tucked his cock away with fumbling hands and managed to do up his fly, and then he lifted both hands to Nik's forearm. This had escalated quickly and his name wasn't on the bloody divorce papers yet. But separated meant separated. She had even said she'd go and find a man who could do the job he couldn't. It might have been bravado and intended to hurt, but it had certainly done the job. He felt - had felt - completely worthless.

Nik made him feel… whole. Like he mattered. Like his pleasure, his body and his damn feelings mattered. Price had never experienced that in any intimate relationship. He craved more.

 “Yeah… yeah, ‘d… I want t’... I want it t’ be you, Nik.”

Nik's dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “I will call us a taxi.”

They left the toilet and returned to the bar. Price managed to sneak in a quick half before the taxi arrived to take them back to Nik’s hotel. Some posh, exorbitantly expensive place on the other side of town. Nik's hand stayed on in Price's throughout the journey, his thumb circling gently across the back. Price knew he should feel nervous, but it was excited butterflies fluttering away in his gut, not anxious ones. His future was uncertain, but for one thing; Nik. He knew he wanted Nik more than anything else in the world.

[froggerland]

(taps mic) women. lesbians, even.

Charlotte Des Voeux, Theresa Hartnell, Henriette Le Vesconte, Cornelia Hickey and “Betsy” Gibson and my favorite throuple Jane Clark Ross, Jane Fitzjames and Frances Crozier (she gets to keep the name (almost))

[love-toxin]

THANK U. gush i absolutely will! and ill probably have to rewatch it now. but oh my god. the way eric would probably not want to have sex for the longest time even after u eventually get together (which would take a LONG TIME TOO!) patience is fr key. like probably out of guilt and SHAME but also cause he’s a gentleman. blushes cutely……. like i hadn’t even thought about that because hes an actual Good person who knows that love/relationships is about more than fucking but….. 🫣🫣 damn. need him fr

oh he'd be SO conflicted about it mrrrrrrghhh!!!! im going OFF-

love the thought of it eating him up inside. it takes so long for him to even speak to you, longer to get to know you, and when you fall for him like he has for you it suddenly feels like he's getting in too deep. it's not that he realized he doesn't love you because he does, he's got it bad for you, but he feels so guilty about even thinking of you in that light. you have an innocence about you that he's long lost and to imagine ripping that away from you, regardless of whether you're virginal or not, just makes him sick to his stomach. and he doesn't want to push you. god, that's the last thing he would ever want to do.

truthfully, he figured that since his body is immortal now, he wouldn't get those urges that he'd get as a mortal. he doesn't need to eat, or drink, or sleep, so it stands to reason that he wouldn't feel the need for sex either. it almost guts him when he realizes he does. when you brush against him or purse your lips or just say something a little off-colour, and he feels a tightening in his groin and a flush up his neck. he practically speeds out of your house in a panic the first time he feels it because he doesn't know what to do about it--how he's supposed to act around you when you don't have that kind of relationship yet. acknowledge it, ignore it, repress it, there's plenty of options but no real solutions.

what if he hurts you? what if you feel guilted into doing things with him, just because of his circumstances? just because you care for him so much? or what if he hurts you physically, because he still doesn't have the perfect grasp on his own, inhuman strength?

but then, when the time comes where you bring it up, Eric sinks down to his knees to look up at you. those brown eyes just radiate warmth, love, and he gently ghosts his palms over your hips with the most adoring "I love you" you've ever heard off his lips. if you want it, he wants you to direct it--you don't have to take control, but you get to decide each and every movement he makes. when he touches you, even for a fleeting moment, you have all the power.

Eric starts off slow. baby steps. first it's a few touches to your neck, kisses that feel hungry as he mouths at the delicate skin, but only faintly graze his teeth over a thin barrier. he squeezes your thigh one day as you're driving and retracts his hand almost instantly, he thinks he grabbed too hard--but you slowly pull his fingers back to rest there and his worries are soothed at once, though his heart jumps up into his throat. although progress is steady he still has flashbacks and night terrors sometimes, and they're almost always so vivid he wakes up in a cold sweat or has to stop in his tracks and just breathe. the people who hurt Shelly are dead. he's here to protect you now. you're safe. nothing bad is going to happen to you. he has to repeat that mantra to himself to calm himself down, and sometimes you have to come and remind him as you hold his hand and hug his head to your chest.

it isn't until one night, when you've been nosing his cheek and kissing him more than usual, that Eric starts touching you back. normally he would lay back and enjoy your attention because it's a sort of ritual for you before bed, but this time he just feels it. it's time. he can do it. as he climbs over you you reassure him that if anything happens--if you change your mind, or if he realizes he's not actually ready--you can stop, no questions asked, and just cuddle. but he can sense in the tightness of his body that it really is time, and he really is ready for this. he's neglected you for too long but he's recovering from the guilt of that, now it's just the thrum of excitement humming through his body as he strips yours down for the first time.

as strange as it is, he's happy that he doesn't see Shelly when he looks at you anymore. he used to see her face in flashes when he was close to you, and the shame had burned him alive for so long. she was his love and his everything, his bride that never was, and despite his growing feelings for you he'd struggled not to see her in everything you did. it wasn't fair to you and it was part of the reason he stayed in the shadows for so long, keeping an eye on you but not getting close. it's why he planned to never speak to you in person and simply watch over you like a shadow, from the shadows, where he belonged. it was only once he'd seen your personality shine through over the months that his view of you started to separate, and now after long conversations and your endless patience he can fully put his heart into you without constantly thinking of Shelly in the back of his mind. he recalls when you brought him to her grave with flowers, your smile so wide and sweet when you asked him questions about her, wanting to keep her memory alive for him--and it drives him down between your legs, those pent-up feelings lashing out with his tongue as he finally brings himself to indulge.

you're just so beautiful, so good to him, so....alive. your kindness may be a weakness but it fills him with strength, it makes him crave you in a way that has your hips rising off the bed and your thighs squeezing his ears, muffling out all sound except your moans and the wet shlick of his tongue inside you. your fingers threading through his hair drives him wild. if his mouth wasn't full he'd plead with you to pull it. but you don't have to have everything lined up right now, it's just about exploring--although he'll have a lot more of your body mapped out than you will of his, because he can't help it, you just taste so good. he may not need to be satiated in body anymore, but something in your arousal feeds him as if it's the fount of his power itself. like he was drinking from the fountain of youth, hidden all this time between your angelic legs.

he won't even get into penetration tonight; you'll be too exhausted once he's finished the banquet between your hips, and he'll barely know his own name aside from you screaming it. neither of you are really concerned with it though, because this is your love, and nobody else's. he's almost too sensitive to touch when he crawls up beside you and you reach down, fingertips lightly grazing his stomach until you brush against him and he hisses through his teeth. his instinct is to draw your hand away but he hides his face in your neck when you grip him, clutching on to you for dear life to keep from squirming away from the attention. he wants it. he just can't look you in the eyes while he takes it, because he knows it's been so long and you smell so good that he'll bust before he even knows it's happening.

but it's easy to tell where he's at by the twitches in your palm, the little jets of clear liquid that startle you as they splash on your hand. he seems to breathe with every pulse of his cock as it spasms for dear life, aching for your fingers that stroke him with such effortless adoration. his hold on you grows harder and firmer the more you give him that attention, and with an especially slick twist he's buckling, humping your grip with soft gasps, mumbling nonsense into your neck until he finally hits his stride and shoots his load all over your pretty belly.

it takes him awhile--a long, great while--to eventually work up the strength to lift his head and look. his work is messy and unprofessional, emblematic of a man barely held together by threads, and yet you look back at him with such sweetness he can't help feeling more fragile in your arms.

"I love you." you whisper into his ear, brushing a strand of hair from his sweaty forehead and tucking it behind. and for the first time, the first time in a very, very long time, Eric finally believes it.