#Latest Worship Songs

[gospelhotspot]

[DOWNLOAD] Àánú Re (Your Mercy) - Tee Worship

Prolific gospel minister and worship leader Tee Worship blesses us with a new, uplifting worship anthem titled “ÀÁNÚ Re,” which beautifully translates to “Your Mercy” in English language. Captured live during an electrifying worship experience in Abuja, “ÀÁNÚ Re” showcases the remarkable sound of seasoned worshiper Tee Worship. This heavenly melody creates a divine connection between the earthly…

[wordsmilt]

https://youtu.be/aFuxasb8_kI DY PRODUCTIONS (+2348169333952) TRENDING GOSPEL ARTIST IN NIGERIA LATEST 2023 GOSPEL SONGS PRAISE AND WORSHIP ❤️❤️❤️ #DY #PRODUCTIONS (+2348169333952) #TRENDING #GOSPEL #ARTIST IN #NIGERIA #LATEST #2023 #GOSPEL #SONGS #PRAISE AND #WORSHIP #MUSIC (HIGH PRAISE)❤️❤️❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CmY8DVpDxDm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jkmministries]

Please, check out one of our latest songs "L ap fèl" by the Psalmist Dukens ROMELUS. — JKM

[ellieslovr]

mad love (e.williams)

a day in the life of you and your girlfriend, notorious killer, ellie williams.

-A/N:This is an excerpt for a longer series i’m working on, which takes place in that same universe. I hope you all like it, if so I’ll post the first chapter! important note at the end too :)

-CW:extreme blood kink,possessive ellie, choking, breeding kink, degradation, strap on sex, spit kink, finger sucking, oral fixation, body worship, praise kink, domesticity kink? (is that a thing?)

-i do NOT condone any of these things irl as a disclaimer, this is a work of fiction.

˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

It all happened in a blur. Ellie came home from her latest kill, still giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and she was practically bouncing off the walls.

She swings the door to the penthouse open and kicks off her steel toed boots, the same she had used to stomp her victim’s face into the ground.

She knew you’d scold her for getting blood on the hardwood you just cleaned, but she was too excited to care. She looks around for any sign of you, but all she sees is an empty room.

She checks the bedroom. Nope, not there. All of a sudden, she hears running water. She silently makes her way towards the bathroom, careful to not alert you. The door is unlocked, so she pushes it open quietly.

You’re humming contentedly to yourself in the shower, some pop song you’d heard on the radio.

With a devilish grin on her face, Ellie jerked the shower curtain to the side. Not expecting it, you scream bloody murder.

Ellie just stands there, beaming at you. Her eyes drop down to your naked body, and she wolf whistles. “Looking good babe.”

You roll your eyes. “You scared me half to death, you dick.” You reply. She smiles, reaching out to touch your cheek. You jerk away from her, and she frowns.

“Come on, gimme a kiss.” You shake your head and point to her clothes. “Take those off and get in here.” You tell her. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh? Are you trying to get dirty again?” She asks, laughing.

You whack her lightly on the arm as she strips off her clothes. “No, I just don’t want to use up all the hot water and leave you with none.” You reply.

She coos. “That’s sweet of you, babe.” She steps in the shower with you, letting the water run down her body. You take note of a few scrapes and cuts, ones that weren’t there earlier when she left.

“I take it they fought back?” You asked, a finger tracing one of the most prominent ones. She sighs. “Yeah, but I got him in the end.” She replied. You run your fingers through her wet hair, washing out some of the dirt.

“Who was it this time?” You ask. She turns around to face you. “Some rich dude who was involved with Joel’s crew back in the day. He fucked them over, didn’t pay back his debts. If it were me I would’ve killed him right there.” She groans in pain as you run your fingers over a bruise on her chest.

“Sorry.” You murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She continues. “I took care of it though, you know me, I hold grudges.” You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re still mad at me for beating you in Mario Kart.” She sticks her tongue out.

“Whatever, you cheated.” “I did not!” You exclaim, splashing her with water. She laughs, moving out of the way. You turn back around and start to lather yourself up with soap, when you feel Ellie’s hands start to wander.

“Babe?” You call her. “Hm, what’s up?” She replies, hands going lower. “What’re you doing back there?” You ask.

You know for a fact she’s smirking as she remains silent, moving her hand down to slap your ass.

“Ellie!” You scold, turning around. “What? Come on, you knew it was coming!” You shake your head with a grin.

“Hurry up and get washed up, I’ll start dinner soon.” You tell her. She nods and continues her routine. You step out of the shower a few minutes later, with her in tow. You’re able to dry off and avoid her wandering hands. “They have a mind of their own, babe!” She’d told you once.

Once you’re dressed, you step out into the kitchen and grab one of the cookbooks from the shelf. “Els, what do you feel like tonight?” You ask. She doesn’t reply. You turn around, looking for her. “Ellie?” You call.

She appears behind you suddenly, wrapping her arms around your waist. She buries her face into your neck and inhales, groaning softly. “Shit, Ellie..” You mutter, pulling her closer. “You smell so good, fuck. I missed you so much.” You grin, leaning into her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Her tongue darts out to run across your neck, making you shiver. She slowly kisses her way up, until she reaches your lips. At this point you’re desperate, so you pull her into a hungry kiss.

She moans into it, her hands wandering down to squeeze your ass. Her tongue slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. When she pulls away, you’re both panting. “Take me to bed.” You tell her, looping your arms around her waist.

She grins and lifts you into her arms, carrying you to the bedroom. You loved how strong she was, how effortlessly she could pick you up and carry you around.

You also loved the little things she’d do for you, like lifting heavy things even if you were perfectly capable. Her love language was acts of service, and it definitely showed in her daily life with you.

While your thoughts were wandering, Ellie placed you down gently onto the bed. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled up at her. “I take it you’re still on an adrenaline high?” You ask.

She nods, grinning like a maniac. “Mhm, you’re right. You gonna let me use you?” Her words cause you to blush. “Yes daddy.” You reply in a sultry tone.

Ellie’s pupils dilate. “Fuck. Let me take these off, baby.” She tells you as she begins to tug at your shirt.

You let her undress you, and she pauses for a moment, smirking up at you. “You didn’t put any panties on?” She asked. You blush. “They’re all in the laundry.” Ellie raises an eyebrow. “I just did the laundry.”

You groan, covering your face. “Shut up, you know why I didn’t put any on.” She laughs. “I know, sweetheart. Wanted me to have easy access, huh? Such a slut.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto the mattress at this point, and Ellie decides to take mercy on you. She slowly circles your entrance with two fingers, while using her thumb to massage your clit. “Ellie..” You moan softly, and she shushes you.

“Just relax baby, I’ve got you.” Her fingers move slowly in and out of you, making a shiver go up your spine.

“That’s my girl, so fucking wet.” She crooned into your ear. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers fucking you echoed off the bedroom walls, and Ellie grinned. “Aw, did this pussy miss me that much?” She asked, lips grazing your jawline.

Ellie’s thumb strokes slowly up and down your swollen clit, while holding you down to the mattress with her other hand. “Poor thing, she didn’t even touch you while I was gone? You must be so pent up.” The realization that she’s not talking to you, but to your pussy, makes your face grow hot.

It was degrading and demeaning, like you were nothing more than a toy, and you loved it. When a soft whimper leaves your lips, Ellie decides to take pity on you in her own special way.

You hadn’t noticed that she’d put the strap on, so you gasped when she pressed against you. You shut your eyes in anticipation and Ellie tuts in response, pushing into you.

She starts thrusting slowly, a low groan coming from the back of her throat. “You’re fucking dripping, baby. Yeah, this pussy knows who it belongs to, doesn’t it?” She asks, grabbing your face with one hand.

You nod, and she glares at you. “Say it.” When you take too long to respond, she slips two fingers into your mouth. “If you can’t speak properly, put your mouth to better use.” You do as she says, not wanting to push her any further.

She keeps a steady movement, her hips slamming into yours while your tongue swirls around her fingers. She pulls them out of your mouth suddenly, and spreads them apart in front of your face.

A thin string of saliva connects them, and she brings those same fingers to her mouth and wraps her lips around them. You moan at this, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts.

Ellie grunts and leans over you, green eyes piercing into yours. “Open.” She orders.

You let your jaw hang slack, and stare up at her. She opens her mouth, letting your mixed saliva trail down to her tongue.

She spits into your open mouth, and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her flannel. “Swallow.” She orders, eyes never leaving yours. You do so, and she hums in approval.

She starts to fuck you faster, her pace brutal and unforgiving. When you look away for too long, Ellie grips your throat.

“Fucking look at her baby, look at the way she swallows my fucking cock. No no, don’t you dare look away.” She grunts.

You moan loudly, nails digging crescents into her back. You feel a bit bad, since her back was pretty scratched up from her victim earlier. She didn’t seem to mind though, as she was currently groaning into your ear.

“God, you’re makin’ such a mess. You’re a dirty fucking whore, you know that?” She asks, reaching up to roll your nipple between her fingers. “Just for you.” You breathe, back arching in response to her touch.

She lets go of your nipple and squishes your cheeks between her free hand once more, forcing you to open your mouth.

She leaned in to kiss you, letting her tongue slide against yours. She bit down, causing you to yelp. You kept kissing her nonetheless, as the taste of blood invaded your mouth.

You moan louder at this, and Ellie kisses you harder. When she pulls away, she gives you a lazy smile, her eyes half lidded. “I should come home all bloody one of these days, yeah?” She asked. “Fuck you while I’m covered in it, you’d look so pretty.” She groans at the image inside her head, pounding into you faster.

She has a tight grip on your hips, and you’re absolutely certain you’ll have bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. Ellie speaks up. “Oh fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. You like that idea baby? You want me to come home straight from a kill and fuck you, let the blood stain your skin?”

You rake your nails down her back, hard enough to draw blood. She hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and continues to thrust into you.

“You’re a depraved fucking whore, nothing but a nasty slut. How long have you been waiting for my cock for, huh?” Ellie asked.

You whine in response, fucking yourself on her strap. “I’ll fucking give it to you baby, don’t worry. Anything you want princess, just say the word. I’d, fuck-” A particularly hard thrust. “I’d do anything for you.”

The weight behind her words and the emotion in her voice almost tipped you over the edge. You decide to ask her a question that’s been on your mind since the first time you found out who she really was. “Would you kill for me?” You ask her.

Ellie could’ve cum from just that question.

“Course I would baby, my girl gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.” She reaches down to pinch your clit between her fingers.

You moan as a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. “You spoil me too much.” You tell her. It’s half teasing, half sincere. She just coos down at you, speeding up. “Just take it baby.” She tells you.

You’re not sure whether she’s talking about her strap or her lavish treatment of you, but you decide not to question it.

“I meant what I said doll, anything for you. Cars, clothes, those expensive perfumes you like..” Ellie trails off, getting lost in the way you writhe and moan underneath her.

She takes in your soft skin, your pretty face and..how good you’d look carrying her baby. God, the thought alone could make her cum right then and there.

She’d considered it before, settling down, starting a family with you. She knew she’d have to change her ways for that, but she didn’t mind.

She meant it when she said she’d do anything for you. While the two of you did have a breeding kink, you’d never really explored past that initial conversation.

Ellie decides to test the waters. “Fuck, m’ gonna make you such a pretty little housewife. Gonna come home from work and fuck you on top of the same table we eat from, we’re gonna do such nasty shit-“ You sob, thrusting your hips to meet hers. “Yes.” You choke out.

Bingo. She’s got the green light, feels like she’s won the damn lottery.

She continues on. “Yeah, you like that baby? Wanna be my wife? You gonna let me fuck a baby into this pretty pussy? Gonna let me make you a mama?” You cry out, you’re so close, and she laughs condescendingly. “So fucking cute.” A kiss to your lips. “You want me to breed you that badly, baby? Stuff you full of my cum? The sneer in her tone was undeniable.

“Yes Ellie,keep me stuck here with you, bind me to you forever, please daddy-“

Your cries are cut off by Ellie, who lets out a loud guttural moan. She cums onto the strap, soaking your chest and stomach.

You follow soon after, a mixture of soft moans and pleas leaving your throat.

After a few moments of silence broken by occasional heavy panting, Ellie manages to catch her breath. “That was- fucking incredible.” She murmured against your chest.

You laugh. “It was.” You’re absentmindedly stroking her sweaty hair, trying to find the energy to get up and go to the bathroom.

When you finally stand up on wobbly legs, Ellie’s right behind you. However, her legs are shaky too, so she’s not much better off. The two of you hobble to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support.

Once you finally reach it, Ellie turns on the water to start a bath. She dumps some soap in, and turns back to face you. “C’mon, I’ll help you in.”

You lean against her once you’re both in the tub, and sigh contentedly. “You planning on actually getting clean this time?” You ask her.

She presses her face into your neck to hide her smirk. “Maybe.” She replies. You laugh and she lifts her head up, grinning at you.

You take a moment to take it all in. How despite everything you and Ellie had been through, you were still here. She was still here. You bump your forehead against hers.

“Hey.” You murmur. She gives you a toothy grin and brushes your noses together. “Hey.” You reach up and caress her cheek, and she closes her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I love you.” You tell her.

You’ve told her this tons of times, it shouldn’t be anything new. However, she stills get choked up every time you say it.

“I love you too.” She replies, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew she’d be there by your side.

_________________

Thanks for reading this far if you have! I wanted to drop where i got my inspiration for this from. It’s from a book by Eden Emory, in the club petale series. Inspiration for Ellie’s personality comes from Avery, a character in the third book. I implore you all to read that book series, it’s genuinely one of my favorites. Please heed the tws though!

[gospelwavesng]

Pentatonix – Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone) Mp3 Download + Lyrics

Pentatonix – Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone) Mp3 Download + Lyrics

Pentatonix – Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone) Mp3 Download + Lyrics Can Be Found On This Website gospelwavesng Do you want to download Amazing Grace(My Chains Are Gone) By Pentatonix for free? Then, you are going to find the download link here. Seasons greetings people from all around the world, We wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, stay blessed and always remember that Jesus…

[hotluncheddie]

Wherever you go, that’s where I am.

lovely @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx mentioned writing some more mid 20s, slightly softer body steve <3 so here is: Five times Eddie loves Steve’s body and one time Steve loves Eddie’s 

wc: 3.5k | cw: none | rated: M | tags: established relationship, body worship, feral pining goblin eddie munson, chubby steve harrington, fluff, they're in love (so so so in love)

ao3

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

1.

Eddie leaps back into the bed, mattress bouncing. He’s been hit with the post coital zoomies, which unfortunately go against Steve’s post nut ritual of passing the fuck out. 

But Eddie doesn’t mind. Not when Steve looks so soft, all curled up, laying on his side. 

Eddie cleans up, Steve teeters on the verge of sleep until Eddie’s finished and spoons him. It’s foolproof. 

He nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder, kissing over the skin and down his back. He traces over the scars at Steve’s hip, just like his own. It still makes Eddie shiver when he thinks about it sometimes, him and his boyfriend, connected like that. 

Eddie nuzzled in more and Steve lets out a sleepy groan. He’s so cute when he gets fucked boneless. Eddie would know, he’s the one that gets to do the fucking. 

Letting his hands roam further Eddie sneaks around to Steve’s stomach, stroking the soft hairs of his happy trail and letting his fingers press into the slight pudge that sits there now. It feels nice, like his Steve, relaxed and happy and safe. 

‘I like this’ Eddie says, giving the soft skin a squeeze. 

Steve grunts. ‘Wha?’ Eddie thinks he says, Steve’s face is smushed into the pillow. 

Eddie smiles, kisses his shoulder. ‘This.’ Eddie squeezes again, splaying his whole hand over it, pressing his fingers into the warm skin slightly. 

Steve just grunts again, turns his head to lay on the pillow properly. ‘I’ll go for a run tomorrow.’ He says, voice still rough with impending sleep. 

‘What?’ Eddie asks, because, huh? ‘Steve, I just said I like it.’ and Eddie scoots closer, tries to get a look at Steve’s face over his shoulder. 

He seems to be puzzling something out in his head, eyebrows slightly furrowed over his closed eyelids. ‘Oh.’ He says softly. ‘Kay.’ And he shimmies back into Eddie more, face smoothing out. 

Eddie squeezes him, tucking him up into his chest. ‘Yeah oh.’ He murmurs, kissing between Steve’s shoulder blades. ‘Silly.’ He adds fondly. Silly guy, how could he think Eddie sees him as anything other than the breathtaking, heavenly angel that he is? 

Steve just grunts again, resting his hand over Eddie’s on his stomach and falling dead asleep. His soft snores filling the room. 

Eddie resists the urge to bite his shoulder. Instead curling around him more and holding him as close as possible. Maybe they should talk about this at some point, why his mind went where it did. 

Not right now though. right now Eddie just lets himself drift off, lulled by the steady breathing of his most favourite person. 

2.

Eddie is going to erect an alter. And build a shrine. And kneel before it to give thanks. 

And it will all be dedicated to one, Bruce Springsteen. 

Eddie will never ever, cross his heart, ever complain about Steve playing ‘Born in the USA’ multiple times in a row. He’ll even put it at the top of his all time album lists. He’ll do it. He will. 

Because that album cover, that guy, those songs, inspired his Steve to look like that. 

And Eddie has never been a winner. But he hit the fucking jackpot today. Every day. All the days Steve will still let Eddie have him. 

The band had taken a trip into Chicago for some very exiting meetings. With Steve, angel that he is, offering to chauffeur so none of them would be too tired, and so they only had to spring for a hotel for one night instead of two. 

During said meeting Steve had been entertaining himself. The latest that Eddie got out of had been the longest and most exiting, so he’s happy. 

He’s maybe even happier though that Steve found such a productive way to entertain himself. 

Because Eddie too, is entertained. 

He’s waiting at Steve’s car, leaning against the front bumbler. And Steve, blessed, beautiful, jock that he is, had found the batting cages. 

Eddie’s going to write a song about blue jeans. He’s going to send Brucy a letter of thanks for causing Steve to cut the sleeves off his old grey crew neck. He’s going to need to get his mouth on Steve’s dick ASAP if he intends on walking over with his baseball bat over his shoulder the way it is, hips swaying, smug little smirk on his face. Maybe Eddie just needs a lobotomy, it’s all a little too much. 

Steve walks right past him, tapping him under the chin as he goes.

Eddie’s mouth was open, respectfully. 

Then he hears the boot click open, and Eddie quickly scampers around to the back of the car. 

Just in time to watch Steve bend over, putting the bat back, ass round and thick and filling up his jeans oh, so nicely. 

Eddie might have to write a whole album about blue jeans actually. Especially these new ones, a size or so bigger since high school, more room to let the full force of Steve show to the world. 

It’s just, there’s a certain level more bounce to it all now, and it makes Eddie kind of insane. 

And, oh, yep, Steve’s arching his back, okay. He wants Eddie to die, yep, like, actually die, for real. 

He’s not even really keeping up the rouse of pretending to be doing something. He’s just bent over with his back arched and his ass sticking out, shirt lifted just enough for Eddie to see the base of his spine. 

He’s doing it knowing Eddie’s looking. Knowing they’re in public. Knowing Eddie’s looking but they’re in public so Eddie can’t do anything. 

Menace. Brat. Evil. Evil. Evil. 

‘Boys are at the diner down the street. Said we’d meet them there.’ Eddie says, monotone, rough and with herculean effort. They need to go. He can’t do any of the many things he wants to to Steve right now. So they should go, for Eddie’s heart and soul and sanity’s sake. 

Eddie sighs, he really could look at this scene all day, but that would waste time, valuable, Steve and Eddie alone in the privacy of a room time. Which is sacred. 

‘We’ll be home by tonight you know?’ Steve says, leaning on the now closed boot. He’s taking pity on Eddie but he still looks a little smug, which is annoyingly, all, also hot. ‘C’mon, I’ll keep my hand on your thigh on the drive to the diner, the way you like.’ Steve murmurs, coming up behind Eddie and pushing him lightly, steering him towards the car. 

‘Home by tonight.’ Eddie parrots, his life line. He’ll be home by tonight, with Steve. Alone with just Steve, and he can do some of the many many things, whatever Steve will let him, whatever Steve wants.

3.

‘You come here often?’ Steve asks, grin loose and sloppy, eyes lidded. One arm resting on the doorframe next to Eddie’s head. Steve’s staring at his lips. 

Eddie smiles at him, tucks a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear. Cradling his cheek Eddie shakes Steves head slightly. ‘I do baby. I live here.’ And Steve giggles, tucks his head into Eddie’s neck, like this is the best news in the world. 

They’ve just got in from the bar, Steve crowding into Eddie’s space as soon as he got the door locked. Robin found a girl, away for the night. Steve had a couple more than normal to drink. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh along with him, kissing the side of his head and resting his hands on his hips to start walking them backwards towards their room. ‘C’mon big boy.’ He says, just to make Steve giggle more. 

Steve lifts his head back up, smile still big and loose, eyes still lidded. ‘Dance with me?’ He asks, like Eddie can’t tell he’s twenty minutes away for being passed out in bed, his fruity drinks always making him crash eventually. 

But Eddie can’t really say no to Steve, especially not when he’s like this, care free and blinding. When he’s beautifully alive. 

Eddie takes a step back, takes Steve’s hand and twirls him. Steve stumbles slightly, laughing again. 

With his arm up Eddie can see some of his soft hip and belly as his t-shirt lifts, can see that his jeans are unbuttoned. Which is not surprising since they’re practically painted on. Steve explained that he likes feeling Eddie up against him when they dance, likes the way Eddie’s eyes sharpen if someone looks a little too long. And oh, people look, it’s not just Eddie who notices how those jeans fit, how wonderful Steve always looks. 

But Eddie’s the only one who gets to see Steve like this. Home at the end of the night. When Steve needs that extra room, when he lets his soft parts breathe a little better. When he relaxes fully. 

That’s just for Eddie. And it’s the best part. 

Eddie twirls Steve again and lets him fall back into his chest. Giggles dying out slowly and breath coming deeper and slower. Steve hums, squeezing Eddie’s middle and breathing in the skin behind his ear. Steve leaves kisses down Eddie’s neck, a little wet, making Eddie shiver. Steve hums and does it again. ‘Love you.’ He whispers, holding Eddie close. 

Eddie squeezes back, his heart bursting. ‘Love you too baby.’ He says into Steve’s hair, into his bones, into all his soft wonderful edges. ‘Let me take my love to bed now, hm?’ He asks, dipping his hands into Steve’s back pockets, squeezing just to feel Steve tense and then relax against him. 

Steve nods, still in Eddie’s neck. One last kiss and he’s moving. Pulling Eddie by the hand through to their room. Kicking off his shoes and falling onto the bed with Eddie on top of him. Steve’s eyes already closed, breath already slowing and deepening. Like he knows Eddie will take care of the rest of their clothes, knows Eddie will tuck the blanket up around him, will hold Steve close all night. Knows Eddie will take care of him 

Because Eddie will. Always. 

4.

‘Looking good Munson.’ Steve says, jogging past Eddie, panting slightly, smacking Eddie on the ass. Making Eddie jolt and almost spill his coffee. 

He was leaning against the car door, face hidden in his arms because he’s just had to watch his very hot boyfriend complete his weekly work out at the park. Running, push-ups, the whole horrible lot. 

And its ass o’clock in the morning because Eddies vans broke and he needs a ride to work, but he wants his love to have hobbies and be happy and Steve can only get him there if Eddie came along to watch. So, really, Eddie can deal with the early morning but, he’s not sure if his dick can. 

Because ass. 

Ass, was right. 

And hip. And thigh. And bicep. And back. 

Steve is chugging his water, sweaty. His shirt is cropped, his shorts are short and he’s wearing a backwards baseball cap to keep his hair out of his face. 

He’s even got tube socks pulled up over his hairy calf’s. 

He looks like a spread from the magazine Eddie used to keep under his mattress. It was dog eared and kind of, maybe, a little bit.. Sticky. 

And Steve knows about the magazine. 

Steve knows what he’s doing to Eddie right now. 

Eddie glares at him over his largest they own coffee cup. It’s so early and the shirts a little see through. The shorts dig in to the softness at his hips, cut so high Eddie can see the smooth skin of his inner thighs. He watches the muscle and slight chub move when Steve shifts on his feet. 

Eddie walks up to him. Knocking his head between Steve’s beautiful, wonderful, hairy, sweaty pecs. Thud thud thud. 

Eddie groans. 

Why does his boyfriend have to be so stupidly, annoyingly hot right before work? 

Eddie wordlessly follows Steve’s lead and gets back in the car. He glares at the amused smile on Steves face, but then Steve checks all around to make sure the park is still blessedly empty and kisses Eddie sweetly on the temple. Eddie sighs, mollified, he can get over it. 

But then Steve puts his arm around the back of Eddie’s seat, swivelling to look out the back as he reverses. Eddie’s hit with his body heat and smell, all detergent and cologne mixed with sweat and musk and Steve. 

His broad chest right by Eddie’s head, a peak of pink nipple through white cotton, the chain Eddie got him for Christmas dangling into his chest hair. He’s so capable and in control, practical and smart and…

Eddie back at square one. He can’t get over it actually. It’s early and Steve is being a brat dressing like that. Being so hot on purpose. It’s so mean. 

‘You wanna stop for breakfast?’ Steve asks, voice light. 

‘Yeh.’ Eddie grunts, voice small, hands shoved in his jacket. 

‘What d’you want?’ and Eddie can hear the amused smile on Steves face again, his voice a little patronising. 

But Eddie doesn’t care. ‘You.’ He whines, resisting the urge to straddle Steve’s thighs and wrap his arms around his middle and squeeze him. He’d be so warm, and sweaty and soft and strong and perfect. 

They could just make out! Eddie could probably survive all day if he got a bit of tongue down his throat. 

‘Well, I’m getting a breakfast sandwich.’ Steve says, switching to drive and Eddie just whines again, burying his head in his hands. 

5.   

It’s a routine, Eddie doing this for Steve, to make sure his scars heal properly. They won’t ever fade fully but the ointment helps, the doctor said it would, and Eddie likes doing it. Sitting on the edge of the bed and having Steve stand between his thighs, shirt off before him. Eddie likes taking care of Steve like this. Likes that Steve lets him. 

‘You’ve got a new one.’ Eddie says, running the cream over Steve’s skin. 

Steve tenses, looks down at himself. ‘What?’ He asks, confused, a little stressed. 

Eddie hushes him, leans forward and kisses the skin below his bellybutton lightly, before smearing the cream there too. ‘Shh. Here.’ He prods the stretch mark that travels over the softness that now covers Steve’s hip bone, his fingers pressing into the give. 

Steve cranes his neck to look at it, squeezing the skin to inspect it. But he grips so hard, Eddie smacks his hand away gently. ‘Careful.’ He says. Petting over the redness Steve left. ‘That’s my sweetheart you're man handling there, show some respect.’ And he leans back to look up at Steves face. 

His cheeks are red and he looks annoyed, brows furrowed and lips pursed in a pout. ‘What is it love?’ Eddie asks, resting his hands on Steve’s sides. 

‘S’ugly’ Steve mumbles, moving his arms like he wants to cross them but Eddie shifts a little closer and Steve re routs to place them on Eddie’s shoulders with a sigh. 

Eddie kisses his stomach again. Kisses the stretch mark, the scars that travel over his waist. Does the same to the other side. ‘Nah.’ Eddie disagrees softly. ‘You’re beautiful Steve, all your marks are.’ And Eddie kisses his favourite mole, the one that sits below his left pec. ‘But this one’s my new favourite part.’ And he rubs his thumb over the red lightning bold, looks at Steve again. His eyes wide and glassy, his mouth relaxed into the pretties little ‘o’. 

‘Shows how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve healed. It’s all yours baby.’ And he watches Steve swallow, nod his head. 

Eddie goes back to spreading the ointment over Steve’s skin, taking his time, and when he’s finished he lays Steve down, pushing him into the mattress, breathing him in. Promising over and over that he’s so beautiful, so strong and amazing. That Eddie loves him, always has and always will. Until Steve believes him. Until every inch of skin is covered in kisses and praise. Until he’s writhing and panting in the sheets. Eddie kissing his tears away, their lips meeting, salty and slick. 

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other. Eddie almost fully drifted off but not before he feels a final, butterfly light peck on his throat. A little ‘thank you’ whispered into the skin. It’s so quiet he almost misses it. He pulls Steve closer, holds him tighter, and let's sleep take him. 

+1

On Sundays Steve makes breakfast. Or brunch, really, because they always sleep in. But breakfast food, late every Sunday morning. 

He always wakes up first anyway. So he starts cooking while Eddie gets another hour or so of rest. It’s like he stacks them up, needs them to get him through the week. The extra on Sunday allowing him a hour or two leeway for late night Eddie Time after his shifts. Steve doesn’t mind, lets him sleep. 

This week it’s french toast and scrabbled eggs, a little fruit, and, like every morning, coffee. 

Steve hears the telltale thud of Eddie stumbling out of bed. Hears his footsteps travel from the bedroom to the bathroom, and finally into their little kitchen. Where he feels sleep warm arms wrap around his middle. 

Steve smiles into the pan of eggs, Eddie resting his head between Steve’s shoulder blades and sighing. He always takes a long time to wake up, and he’s cute the whole time doing it. 

When he’s had his fill of squeezing Steve, sleepy hands wandering around his torso, head nuzzling against the soft cotton of Steve’s t-shirt, Eddie goes to pore himself coffee. Fills it with milk and sugar before shuffling over the the kitchen table. 

He sits in their creaky wooden chairs, huddled around his steaming mug, eyes bleary and hair a messy halo around his head. Eddie blinks his big brown cow eyes so slowly, staring at nothing. 

Steve turns off the burners and watches the soft spring light fall over eddies shoulders, leaving patches of yellow over his bare skin. Warming the mottled pinks and reds. A patch of light over his thigh, a golden window on the flannel of his low slung pyjama pants. 

his scars have healed well, even with all the grafting and scarring, the doctors managed to do enough to let him survive, let his body become what it is now. he’s stronger, looks healthier than he used to, all the physical therapy and three square meals a day gave him some more definition, more colour in his cheeks. but he’s still wiry, still pale and a little gangly, able to curl up into a ball or spread out and command a whole room. 

He has new tattoos too, stretching over scar and skin. Painting him on the outside with all the wonder and creativity he has swirling in his head. They’re so a part of him, such a perfect addition. The pale tones of pink contrasted with patches of inky black. 

Steve can’t believe it sometimes. That guy he saw in the lunch halls, the one he met in the upside down. Those awful months of Eddie in the hospital. To get to see him now, have him now, this Eddie Munson. His Eddie. 

Steve just. 

Steve can’t take it. 

He steps over, cradling Eddie’s cheeks between his hands. looks down and his loves face. Awed that he gets to see Eddie like this, before all that energy hits him, before his fingers start tapping and his feet need to move, to run, to jump. Gets to see him soft, and quiet and slow. Gets to see his eyes bright and glassy and teary and tired. Gets to see the hunch of his shoulders around his coffee mug, and the curl of his toes against the linoleum. Gets him at his rockstar and his sniffles, at his post work rant and his pre weekend buzz. 

He gets to see all of him. Hard and soft. Dark and light. 

It’s magical. 

‘I love you.’ Steve says, for the hundredth, thousandth time. Kissing Eddie on the lips for the millionth, trying to infuse him with everything Steve has, all the love, all the awe. Tries to put it all there in the kiss. 

When he pulls away Eddie’s sleepy eyes look that little bit brighter, his cheekbones dusted pink. The way they do sometimes when Eddie says Steve gives him “too much attention”. Like Eddie forgets, forgets how much space he fills up in Steve’s brain, his memories, his daydreams. How he can’t look at the sky day or night without being reminded in some way of Eddie. ‘So pretty.’ Steve traces his thumbs over the flush, the tips of Eddie’s ears, fingers trailing over his jaw and scarred neck. 

He kisses Eddie’s forehead and goes to plate the eggs, goes to finish their breakfast. Goes just so he can come back, hold Eddie’s hand, watch him wake up. 

He hopes to every morning. 

For as long as Eddie with let him. 

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

tagging list: @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

also just bc i think you might enjoy: @babydollbaron @spectrum-spectre

title from the Maggie Rodger’s song ‘That’s where I am’ (it’s rly good u should listen to it)

[yns-world]

Idol Worship

Pairings: Cyberpunk 2077 Men x Fem!Idol!Reader

Context: You’re a hyper feminine idol with a cutesy, girlie concept. As a Night City celebrity, these are some headcanons of your life with the men. 

A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name

Jackie Welles: You and Jackie had been dating for a year before your rise to fame, and have been going strong ever since. He supported your music dreams from the start, and you’ll always see him as your first fan, as well as your biggest fan (both literally and figuratively). When you started booking bigger venues and had appearances on TV shows, Jackie became worried that you’d leave him for some Hollywood slick, since that’s what everyone always did when they become famous, but you reassured him that’d you’d never leave him since he was the only one for you. 

At the beginning of your stardom, you had decided to keep your romantic life personal as to keep Jackie away from all of the fame but that proved to be difficult when you had a known stalker on your tail. This stalker followed you everywhere and caused you countless restless nights. The situation had gotten so bad that he broke into your hotel one night, but thankfully you had stayed out that night and weren’t inside when he broke in. After that incident, Jackie didn’t feel safe to have you out on tours by yourself. 

That’s when you both decided that it would be best to publicize your relationship-- one, to keep weirdos at bay, and two, so that Jackie could be with you all of the time unapologetically. 

Thankfully, the fans took to Jackie pretty well-- with the exception of your pervy fans, but you weren’t too concerned with them anymore since Jackie became an unofficial official bodyguard. There wasn’t a single picture of you where Jackie wasn’t also in it, either intentionally or unintentionally. 

Concerts, TV showings, photoshoots, Jackie was always there next to you. You were able to convince your manager to hire Jackie as full-time secretary since he was able to prove himself much more useful than the lumberjacks that couldn’t stop a fly.

Johnny Silverhand: You had already made a name for yourself when you met Johnny, and your first meeting was at an elite club that’s only known to a select few. In the dark night club, Johnny’s body was pressed flush against yours and all you both could do was stare into each other’s eyes and sway to the pounding bass of the music. The chemistry was wild, and Johnny was hooked, but you left before the night was over, leaving him high and dry.

The next time he would see you would be on electric boards in the city, performing your latest song. That’s when he recognized you-- those eyes, those god forsaken eyes that reeled him in.

With a call to his manager and a few pulling of strings, Johnny was able to bring you into his home-studio on the pretenses of having you songwrite a song he’s been working on. Needless to say, that would be one of many “studio sessions”.

Within a month, Johnny found himself asking you to be his girlfriend, and you agreed. Johnny being Johnny, immediately wanted to publicize the relationship. To say the public was shocked was an understatement. A crazy metalhead dating the cutesy pop star? Do we need to alert the feds?

But when the paparazzi photos of the two of you spending quality time together were leaked, everything was finally clicking into place. 

At first, you didn’t want your relationship to overshadow your career so you would regularly decline any commentary or showings that had anything to do with Johnny, but after a few deep, honest sit downs with him, you both agreed that you would be able to make this business-pleasure relationship work.

After a few months of dating, not only were you able to show up to public functions together but you both featured on songs together. Your bird-like voice and his scruffy voice complimented each other remarkably well, not to mention the mixing of such polar genres. The two of you would release some of your most popular music together.

A few examples would be “Strawberry Kisses - Johnny Silverhand feat. Y/S/N”, and “Make Daddy Proud - Y/S/N feat. Johnny Silverhand”.

Johnny’s influence would definitely inspire you to expand in both your concept and your music. You would be his muse, and he would be yours.

Viktor Vektor: As part of the industry, it’s common for idols to get cyberware and plastic surgery done to conform to societal beauty standards-- as the motto goes, “in Night City, looks are everything.”

In the beginning of your career, your manager needed you to get some cyberware done but knew you couldn’t pay for the high prices that legitimate surgeons required, so he introduced you to a man with less-than-honest credentials.

That’s where you met him. Viktor Vektor. A miracle worker based out of a dingy basement and faulty fluorescent lights. 

He treated you like a princess and you were in love right then and there. His gentle touches on your face and most intimate parts made you swoon. 

Your manager had sent Viktor a list of procedures he wanted, but Viktor only consulted with you on what you wanted, no more and no less. 

After the first consultation, you were hooked, and the feeling was mutual. You would check in at least monthly, and would find any reason to give him a call just to hear his voice. 

By the time he had finally asked you out, you both were so used to sneaking around that it was silently agreed upon to not publicize this relationship. Maybe it was taboo, with the age gap and career choice, but it was love. And to you both, that was all that mattered.

And thanks to Viktor’s connections in the industry, you were quick to become the face of high fashion and runways. Always equipped with the latest cyberware, your tech upgrades were trendsetters, with influencers and celebrities alike flocking to imitate your work. But your tech was always one-of-a-kind, that’s what Viktor vowed to do from the moment he met you. Every creation he creates for you is only for you. It’s custom-made for your body and mind, no one else’s.

Your looks had become so famous that there was a genre of cyberware named after you: Roseware, an homage to your pink and aesthetic gadgets.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3 i’m open to requests again (specifically for cyberpunk), please read my the posts on my pinned before requesting :) lmk if y’all have any ideas for more content like this cause this was fun to write :D

[ch0wen]

thigh riding w tangerine 😩 pls he's super focused while reading over the briefings and paperwork and you're bored. you try to get his attention: rubbing his shoulders, stripping in front of him, kissing his neck, and eventually he just sits you down onto his leg and is like "i'm busy, do it yourself." PRETENDING HE'S NOT FIGHTING EVERYTHING INSIDE HIM TO JUST STOP HIS WORK AND KISS YOU ALL OVER AND WORSHIP YOU UGH 🥴

Helping Hand | Tangerine x Fem!Reader

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), thigh riding, blink and there’s a mention of sex, & cursing

"Taaan,” you sing-song as you approach his study, “I was thinking since you have off for the next few days that we could try out that new posit-...What?"

The hand ghosting the sliding motion of your shirt away from your shoulder pauses, after catching your boyfriend hiding a scowl behind his latest novel.

What is that about? Is that story bad? Did something go wrong today at work? Has he forgotten to get a briefing completed on time? Could you have forgotten to remind him of a chore he wanted to get done? Where was this about to be coming from? You hesitate at the door trying to gauge what or who he's about to direct his anger at.

You watch him. Wanting to get an idea of what mood he's in today or if he could just be mentally, and or physically exhausted. The silence fills your ears, making them tingle, as you fight against the loud self-depreciation to see if you can hear him say anything. Listening for an audible sign that he wants you to come near.

As he abruptly clears his throat, your foot twitches the spasm of forward motion. He then lowers his book shield to do the 'eyes piercing daggers into you' clique. You decide to hold yourself still in this spot while leaning against the doorframe.

“You're the one who gets to decide when we can have chats then, is it, yea? Now that you feel up to it. Interesting." His accent was thick. "God, you really chose to be a proper snarky bitch before." Your smile drops as he eyes you a minute longer before turning back to his reading.

You inch towards the ottoman. Pouting and carefully lowering his book from his face. You sling your leg over his splayed one. You're half-sat down but partially straddling him. His left hand involuntarily goes to squeeze the fleshy skin of your thigh, while the right unwaveringly holds up the book.

"I said I was sorry. I'm not a morning person. Cut it out, baby, I want you,” you whimper into his collar. His warm hand stops clutching you, so he can turn a page.

You cup his bulge and rub him slowly through the front of his pants. Kissing your way up along his jaw. He lets you press a soft peck against his lips before he's cunningly dodging the next. A beat passes with you begging softly in his ear, while your hand continues the ministrations. The second you thought you felt his erection begin to swell, Tangerine jerks your wrist away from the hardening of his clothed cock.

"Please, Tan?"

Your hand slowly moves back over to rub along his inner thigh. The grip he had on you has lessened. Seemingly he was becoming unfocused. But then he stills your stroking fingers,

"I'm busy. How about you show me how much you want me by getting off on my thigh, hm?” His challenging eyebrows flick up to look at you before quickly averting eye contact. “If you do, then maybe I’ll consider it an apology for your attitude today.”

You whine and press yourself down against him, so you’re properly straddling his left thigh.

You rock your hips. Leaning forward and slicking up his pants as you kiss his neck. He tilts his head to allow you more access. A low rumble in his throat causes you to breathe praises into his skin.

You feel his jaw clench with every other whimper that escapes past your lips. He keeps flipping through the distraction he’s holding. He is normally so handsy. You don’t think he has even spared you a single glance since you started using him to get off.

His attention seems to be focused on the novel. Straining, a bit, but it's like he just wants to be a dramatic jack-ass and refuse to give in to your seduction. Even though you both know how horny he normally gets from you simply running your fingers through his hair.

You can admit that you were a bit moody waking up to say goodbye before his mission today. But it was like four in the morning! Now it's 6 PM, you're out of your office job, and you've had a coffee today. So now that you’re fully awake and he’s not occupied with work, you're just wanting to mess around with your sexy boyfriend.

What's the problem here?

You're almost at the point of huffing out an annoyed sob while apologizing for spoiling his quiet time and clambering off of him. Until his fingers slide forward to rub at your clit. Your hand flying to his shoulder to steady yourself.

Thank God! He's now assisting you by using himself to get you off.

"Fuck. Just like that, Tan."

Your hips rock down to rub against his digits. Tangerine suddenly pulls his hand away to turn the page. Not missing a beat to lick his fingers before sliding the papers together. This time you let out an audible scoff.

You're convinced and frustrated that he’s actually getting his reading done and paying no attention to you. Slowing down your hips a bit, you keep a watchful eye on him. Trying to find a single notion that he really is uninterested and that you should leave him be. You cannot get a read on him. His face is stoic. But that hand of his is again moving away from the book to press his thumb against your clit. Rubbing it to silently coax you to speed up your movements.

Little to your knowledge, this interaction is truly sending him into a spiral. He is fighting off every urge to jump you, pin you to this ottoman, take control, and fuck into you. He has been sneaking glances over at your flushed face, tilting his chin down to watch your hips rock against him, or dipping his finger into you to slick you up further and himself with your arousal.

Clearly, you haven’t picked up on his fake irritation because you haven’t called him out on it yet. You must really think he’s upset that you complained that you had to wake up early just to kiss him goodbye before he left for work. The funny thing is he’s not. He got a kiss and went on with his day. To your defense, he knows he kept you up late the night prior. Tangerine’s just thankful the mission was a short one for he and Lemon. And he gets to spend more time with you at home.

Although, he's very interested to see how desperate he can get you for his cock. He's loving this attention and doesn't plan on letting up the act now.

[doodle-pops]

Modern AU: Sugar Daddy | My Sugar Daddy Loves Me

Headcanon: Maglor, Finrod, Ecthelion, Thingol, Elrond

Request: Hi Mina I hope you doing well could you please write a part 2 of your sugar daddy au? With Ecthelion, Maglor, Finrod, Elrond and Maeglin - Anon

A/N: Not gonna lie, I had a hard time envisioning Finrod as a sugar daddy since I link those who are Daddy/DILF material as a sugar daddy. He seemed so aloof as a sugar daddy and more like Friends with Benefits lol.

Warnings: a female-focused reader, smut, breeding/creampies

➽ Part 1 | Part 2

➽ Modern AU Series

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maglor

➽ He’s a world-renowned pop star who is beloved by everyone, and you are his lovely darling he met during a backstage meet and greet when he slipped his number into your back pocket and whispered, ‘Call me.’

➽ Of course you called him because that’s how you receive gifts on your doorstep after every performance he has, world tours, or when his albums go platinum. You are the mysterious lover that his fans talk about because of paparazzi.

➽ For the most of your dynamic shared with him, you are kept a secret because, to him, it makes everything more thrilling. All those posts of him on vacation or tours with snips of your hands, legs or back, or the albums being written about you, make everything invigorating.

➽ On the days when he does return from touring, you are showered in affection abundantly. Necklaces and anklets with your name or his name, dozens of roses, lingerie, the latest fashion wear, a lump sum of money floating into your account and some days between the sheets.

➽ Plus, that pretty black credit card in your back pocket feels incredibly heavy with all the financial opportunities it’s allowing you to make. It doesn’t bother him with you swipe his card to make your purchases because he has lots of trust in you (please don’t rob him).

➽ The dynamic between you both differs from the others who would reward you for excelling at your job or studies. With Maglor, he’ll reward you for being silent as he takes you in the recording booth during breaks, support him during his concerts, and when he wins awards.

➽ Apart from dropping all the materialistic gifts on you, Maglor takes him time to worship you from head to toe. You are, after all, the inspiration behind his best-selling albums, and he has inserted your moans as background vocals on some of his songs.

➽ A passion lover you got as a sugar daddy with an oral fixation (best his mouth). He has to show you how talented those lips are; singing isn’t all that he can do with his tongue. Plus, he’s also a guitarist, so let the realisation sink in with those fingers.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Finrod

➽ Right off the bat, his type of sugar daddy isn’t for pleasure purposes and it’s the last reason why he was willing to care for you. He just wants someone to spoil and spend lots of time with because he’s rich and lonely in his mansion.

➽ Being spoilt is something you never have to question because he’s eager to be your sugar daddy even though he doesn’t consider himself as one. He’ll just tell you that he’s a good friend helping another friend out while handing you his unlimited credit card and a bunch of gifts.

➽ The adventurous type to call you up in the middle of the night and TELL you that he already booked you all a flight a trip to a tropical island for two weeks filled with various fun activities. The idea that you have classes or work tomorrow doesn’t sink in until you’re reminding him.

➽ It’s a frequent occurrence with him visiting/calling at early hours to check out new places in the city or for you to come over because his giant house is lonely. At some point, you are living in with him and all the maids have become familiar with you.

➽ If you’re a college student, you are funded, and yes, he does have an interest in your academics. However, he’s a lot more understanding if you fail a course because he’s the reason (making you miss classes with those trips); he might suggest dropping out and letting him permanently care for you because he can also get you a decent job without a degree.

➽ As I mentioned, pleasure isn’t something Finrod is interested in during the agreement. That’s something you would have to initiate one night as you’re relaxing in bed or returning from dinner. Take the lead and make him rethink his agreement to incorporate it often and scrap the ‘friends’ talk.

➽ He isn’t someone who becomes stressed, so if anything, you’re the one who’s getting the rough sex when you’re stressed. He is happy to help because if you’re keeping him company, he has to return the favour with an open mind. And trust me when I say, he’s good at what he does but acts casual as if he didn’t strip away your ability to walk.

➽ At least your time being his sugar baby will be fun and filled with excitement, something that outshines the finances and pleasure he blesses you with. His desire for companionship helps to make the dynamic between you two worthwhile.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Ecthelion

➽ Responsible for marketing some of the most valuable gemstones around the world; mostly invested in the diamond stock market. The first time you met him and stepped into his house, you noticed how much he was obsessed with the gemstone. You don’t complain because it’s what he gifts you whenever you perform well for him.

➽ He covers all your tuition expenses and living commodities and gives you one of his unlimited credit cards to shop for your heart's desires. In return, you must bring home good grades (he’ll tell you what’s good) and keep up your good reputation. He doesn’t want you to ever tarnish your reputation.

➽ Ecthelion is wealthy and educated, so he doesn’t mind getting involved and invested in your field of work or degree program. Depending on what it is, he’ll extend his knowledge, but if he doesn’t know, he’ll make attempts to get you good connections to boost your career.

➽ So long as you maintain your good grades and reputation, you’re in it for life. He’s taking you vacations to tropical islands, opera shows, shopping sprees, buying you the most expensive jewellery sets and clothes. You will be rocking the best designer clothes, Ecthelion isn’t standing for you wearing simple clothes.

➽ Of course, when you perform excellently for him, he will return the favour with more than just trips and money. He established in the beginning that he was seeking companionship during your deal, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, something about the red lipstick you adore wearing sucked him in.

➽ Perhaps allowing you to give him a blowjob under the table in his office during a quick visit and leaving lipstick smeared all over his cock made him change his mind about keeping things professional. He was pleased when you agreed to make the relationship more intimate than hugs and kisses.

➽ He wastes no time whenever he’s stressed to relieve himself through you (with your consent). You’re his little stress reliever, and in return, Ecthelion doesn’t mind letting you use him to beat your stress. Sex is rough and steamy between you both. You are getting bent over countertops, work desk, pressed against the wall, he’s hungry beneath his professional demeanour.

➽ While he is a formal and sophisticated gentleman, and he would not touch you inappropriately in public, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t purchase you vibrator panties and plugs. You’re sitting beside him during a conference meeting and he’s causally playing with the speed on his phone, making you cum.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Thingol

➽ This sugar daddy is drifting over to the DILF side of things and do not be fooled by his silver hair, he isn’t old, he’s simply trendy and into the latest fashion styles. Giovani, Armani, Dior, Marco Polo, Ralph Lauren and the list goes on. Thingol is an old-money type of sugar daddy, and he adores showing off his wealth to you.

➽ To be honest, Thingol really want to be your sugar daddy because he saw you and liked you. At the time, you were a broke college student or young worker struggling in the business world who used the opportunity he was providing to build your career and status.

➽ Thingol doesn’t care about all that (at first), but he does ensure all your needs and desires are met. Tuitions paid, loans cleared, no negative credit score or empty bank account. You’re the rich student on campus or your job that everyone is jealous of because he makes sure the world knows you’re spoilt by rolling up in some custom Rolls Royce or Bently.

➽ Your unlimited credit cards weigh a ton in your pocket, but who cares because you’re rich and being pampered as you deserve? Of course, nothing in life comes for free and without payment. Thingol might carry some age because he has a fully grown child, but he isn’t old.

➽ He makes it clear that he would enjoy being intimate and seeking companionship in return for the wealth spent on you. Do you decline, of course not (you can’t, or you’ll end up poor again).

➽ Thingol is the definition of old is the new young. This man has the stamina to last for a lifetime and makes sure you’re always satisfied. He can be stingy and demand that you give him more attention (he’s a receiver more than a giver). You’ll have to catch him in the right mood for him to be on the giving end.

➽ But still, you can’t complain because you’re getting good dic—. Anyway speaking of spoiling you, he adores whenever you’re completely decked out in lingerie for him, i.e. just all the jewellery he bought for you and nothing else.

➽ He does have a slight breeding kink, but it isn’t intending to want children, so you have nothing to worry about. Thingol just enjoys the sight of prettying his sugar baby.

➽ Know that he’ll gift you some necklace or ring that informs everyone that you’re his and no one else’s. If you ask him if it means he’s proposing, he’ll reply with something along the lines of, “You’re already mine princess, wedding ring or not.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Elrond

➽ DILF number three and it makes perfect sense since he’s a descendant of many DILFs (Fingolfin, Turgon, Thingol). But Elrond doesn’t mind being someone’s sugar daddy, though his intentions are more for genuine purposes. If you want more, you’re gonna have to do all the work to show him that it’s more than paying your tuition and giving you money.

➽ Nevertheless, he covers all your expenses and demands that you perform excellently in your field of study or job. Elrond would even go out of his way to personally teach you (and no, I don’t mean bending you over the desk type of teaching) to ensure success is at your fingertips.

➽ This man is the most passionate and dedicated sugar daddy who cares about your well-being to a great extent. He’s well-rounded, so he’s fulfilling all your needs and wants, health, education, finances, basic commodities and living expenses. Please don’t disappoint him by failing your classes, he’s pulling all his money into the best tutors.

➽ In return for your devotion and passion for excellence, you are getting spoiled but not like the others. Elrond doesn’t mind giving you money or taking you on shopping sprees or trips around the world, he simply doesn’t want you dependent dependent on him to always provide since he’s building you up to become your own boss and financially secure.

➽ He’ll spoil, but not to that extent. Such a philosophical man, teaching all about life and how to be independent and headstrong.

➽ Now, as I’ve previously mentioned, if you want him to take you to bed, impressions are everything. Elrond’s the type to get impressed by your sense of elegance, sophistication and linguistics. Show him how skilled your tongue is, and he’ll be wanting more. No doubt he’s rewriting the contract in his mind.

➽ He has kids and knows how to ramp in between the sheets. In his state, he probably isn’t interested in more given his desire for companionship, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be giving out creampies. The sight of it is his catalyst for wanting to give you more and keep you up all night.

➽ He’s a gentleman in the streets and will incapacitate you in the sheets. Tricks up his sleeves despite having an old fashion appeal about him. Give him a dance dressed in some pretty lingerie—nothing overly fancy, he likes elegance and simplicity—while he sips on whisky or brandy in a button-down shirt and his tie lazily discarded around his neck.

➽ Treat him well because running multiple companies is tiring, so relieve his stress while he relieves yours and you’ll be the happiest sugar baby ever.

Masterlist

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[gospelhotspot]

[Music + Video] Sing Of Your Works - Dami Paul Ft. Amara & Holyhill Worship

Nigerian Gospel singer, Dami Paul releases the soul-stirring music video for “Sing Of Your Works,” featuring the captivating vocals of Amara and the powerful harmonies of Holyhill Worship. Inspired by Psalms 105, this seasonal anthem serves as a poignant reminder of the timeless call to celebrate and magnify the works and deliverance of the Divine. Dami Paul, alongside Amara and Holyhill Worship,…

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖐𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖍

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟺 - 𝙽𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜

Words: ~1.6k

Relationship: nymph!Wanda Maximoff x goddess of spring!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (chase kink, food in a sexy scenario, analingus, body worship), sex outdoors, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

The clouds parted and the sun rose warm in the sky as your eyes at last fluttered open after your long slumber. It was finally time, your season, the awakening of the earth and the beginning of new growth. You slowly rose to your feet and breathed deep of the fresh spring air, looking out at the frozen land that was waiting to be rejuvenated by your touch.

As you began your trek down from your mountain you smiled warmly, hyacinths and irises and peonies blooming each place your feet met the earth while new green life spread across the land in front of you. Frost and ice broke away from the ponds and rivers when the sun’s rays reached them. Birds and animals chirped and sang, filling the air with the sweet sounds of rebirth as they rose from their winter hibernation and came to greet you. A lark fluttered around you with a symphony of twitters before landing on your outstretched hand, preening its feathers as it whistled before taking flight again.

By the time you reached the foot of your mountain the land was lush and green, the air filled with the verdant fragrances of spring that made you feel so alive and powerful. You took one more deep breath and spread your arms wide, beaming when the entirety of the land sprang to life at once and basking in the sunlight.

That was when you heard it. That lovely laugh that lilted like a song through the air. The murmuring splashes and soft singing of woodland nymphs as they bathed. It was her. Your love. The only thing aside from the growth of spring that you longed for during your time of sleep. As you came upon the still pool where the maidens bathed you felt your breath catch, the sunlight glittering on the surface of the water and on the flawless skin of your beloved when she rose from the depths with a beautiful sigh.

“Wanda!” You let out a delighted laugh when she turned to face you and blushed, her ginger hair flowing around her bare shoulders and her blue eyes sparkling with playful desire. “I see your thoughts, my love. If you run, I will catch you and drink my fill of your sweet pleasure.”

“My goddess…” she stretched her lithe, naked body and giggled when you let out a low sound of want, taking a few steps away from you towards the opposite end of the pond. “If I did not run, you would not love me as you do.”

That was the only warning you had before she took off at a sprint. You chuckled to yourself before beginning to pursue her, your steps fleet across the green earth and making trees and flowers spring up in your wake. Her laughter made your grin grow even wider. She was right, you did enjoy chasing her down before you lost yourself in the heady pleasures of her soft flesh.

Rivers and hills passed the both of you by as you chased her, the land sloping towards the sea as you moved further and further from your mountain. Her laughter was like music that rang through the valleys and forests, birds and animals joining her song as they rose from their winter sleep. Deer and foxes ran with your beloved, their cheerful yips and cries echoing her joy and only making your desire for her grow deeper. She was the embodiment of life and happiness, of everything that belonged to your season. And though she ran and played the shy coquette, she was yours.

Wanda’s voice was teasing and bright as she called your name over her shoulder, the sway of her hips enticing you to run after her even faster as she bent to pluck a sweet smelling hyacinth and breathe in its scent. She leapt over a brook and squealed when she felt the tips of your fingers graze against her heel, changing direction quickly so you could not catch her. You could smell her. Above even the scent of the new flowers you could smell the warm and fertile wetness between her thighs that called to you.

Though Wanda was quick, she was not as quick as you. But then, she did not truly wish to be. She squealed with glee when your hand wrapped around her knee and pulled her to the ground, her eyes bright when she beamed at you over her shoulder when you pounced on top of her. The rest of her playful noises were muffled by your lips as you bent to give her the most luscious of kisses, the sweetness of her plump lips making you moan into her mouth as you pressed her into the warm earth.

Wanda laughed lightly when you turned her onto her back and nibbled on the tip of her nose, her fingers teasing along the curve of your waist. Out of thin air a honeycomb appeared in your outstretched hand, the two of you sharing a pair of warm smiles before you pressed the comb to her lips and let her taste the sweetness of spring. Her eyes fluttered as you smeared the precious golden syrup all over her full lips and let it slither over her tongue and down her throat. Your lips were quick to chase the drops that escaped from the corners of her mouth, your tongue flicking out to trace the viscous trails left along her soft, pale skin.

You dragged the comb down her chin and then the slender column of her neck. You wanted her nubile body covered in honey, to taste the luscious flavor of her sweat mixed with the sweet syrup. When your tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat to lap up the golden nectar she sighed, making you grin when the soft sound of her pleasure made a smattering of asters bloom around her.

“My dear, sweet love,” your lips met Wanda’s skin between each word. “My beloved nymph,” the honey dribbled over the gentle swells of her breasts, followed closely by your eager tongue. “How I miss you when I slumber.”

“My goddess, oh!” Her sudden gasp when your lips brushed against her stiffened nipple made Olympus yarrow join the aster that was springing up in an ever growing ring around the two of you. “I have missed you too, so much…”

“I know.” The fragrance of the flowers and the warmth of the sun bathed the two of you in a haze of passion, Wanda’s breaths turning shallow and quick as your mouth left a wake of fire along her tapered waist. “Sing your song for me, my nymph.”

Wanda groaned when you turned her so she was laying on her stomach, biting her lip when you pressed the honeycomb to the firm skin of her back until she could feel the thick, sticky sweetness creeping down the curve of her spine. Your mouth ardently pursued the path of honey as your beloved whimpered and moaned, your teeth sneaking past the cushions of your lips to nip at the small of her back. The comb kept traveling lower and so did your mouth, worshiping her perfect, alabastrine skin as she spread her legs for you and arched her back. When Wanda felt your fingers opening her up and the warm honey dribbling over the dusky folds of her anus she gasped, her voice rising in timbre as your tongue fluttered and lapped at her sensitive flesh.

Her voice was musical and dulcet as you continued to lavish her body with passionate attention, your fingers and tongue leaving her sex covered in the syrupy evidence of your love for her. The pitch of her voice let you know that her mind was fully consumed by the pleasure you were giving her, her existence narrowed to only you and the pleasure you gave her as more spring growth bloomed around the two of you. Your tongue pushed past her tight ring of muscle at the same time your fingers slipped inside her pretty pussy and when she cried out softly you grinned against her.

Already you could tell your love was close, her staccato breaths and the way her toes and fingers curled letting you know just how lost in her pleasure she was truly. Every breath and sound she made was pure and primal, out of her control as she offered herself to you as a loving sacrifice for the new birth of spring. There was nothing on the earth for her except you and your touch, the unending ecstasy only you were able to give her. Your tongue and lips kept moving reverently against the most secret part of her as her body wound tighter and tighter, her slick inner walls clenching around your fingers while your thumb gently circled her swollen clitoris until she truly was singing for you.

Wanda screamed your name as she fell apart at your touch. It was more lovely than the singing of the birds or the falling rain, everything about your beloved was the epitome of beauty. You drank up her bliss gluttonously, catching every drop on your tongue before draping your body over hers so your head was resting on her shoulder. A glade had grown around the two of you as you pleasured your nymph, poppies and anemones surrounding a sparkling pond as the shade of a fig tree kept you cool. She rolled over and let her eyes flutter as you ran your fingers through her silky hair, her own fingers trailing along your side until she was tickling your hip.

“My goddess,” Wanda purred and bit her lip as she gazed at you with adoration. “It is your season, my beloved. Let me worship at your altar so you can give the earth new life.”

[foreverdolly]

Heyyyyy Sunny baby! So listen, congratulations on hitting 2.5K! I couldn’t imagine it happening to a better person.

So I have a request for mafia boss!Elvis (preferably 70s era if that’s okay with you!)

21. “Touch her and you’re dead.”

16. “You shoot anyone that comes through the door who isn’t me.”

And I would like the forbidden love trope as well!

Something about mafia boss!elvis and the forbidden love trope sounds hot to me. I love you baby! Congratulations again!

-Daisy (@powerofelvis)

𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompts: "you shoot anyone that comes through the door who isn't me" and "touch her and you're dead." with forbidden love trope.

word count: 2.1k

song: i got a feelin' in my body - elvis presley

notes/warnings: SMUT! brief talk of violence. elvis owns you and your pussy, but he worships the ground that you walk on. you've got him majorly pussy whipped. thank you so so much, daisy! i hope you enjoy this.

You were guilty of overlooking every rotten thing that your lover had ever done- which was a lot. Your ole’ man wasn’t a very good man, but he owned you. Heart and soul, he owned you. Your existence before Elvis felt so far off- like it had been a past life. You weren’t sure how you even functioned before you had a great big man to warm your bed at night and scare away all the monsters. 

You were guilty of overlooking every rotten thing that your lover had ever done- which was a lot. Your ole’ man wasn’t a very good man, but he owned you. Heart and soul, he owned you. Your existence before Elvis felt so far off- like it had been a past life. You weren’t sure how you even functioned before you had a great big man to warm your bed at night and scare away all the monsters. 

The Sunset Strip used to be your stomping grounds. You made a name for yourself there, what with your good looks and submissive disposition. One day you were doing a private dance for a good looking stranger that was dressed to the nines, and the next day you were holed up in the penthouse of his luxurious hotel room, breeding like rabbits and kissing until both of your lips felt raw. 

Elvis loved adorning you in diamonds and blood rubies. He made sure your hair and nails were done at all times, bought you all of the latest designer collections- you were a prize, and he treated you as such. His prize. The man, regardless of his cold exterior, belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. You had him wrapped around your little finger. The power that you had over the boss was remarkable. All it took was a singular heated gaze from across a busy room, and in the blink of an eye he would be tugging you into the nearest bathroom, ripping at your chiffon skirt with eager hands. 

Your name hung from his neck on a solid gold chain, the lettering inlaid with diamonds. He had one made for you as well- ELVIS spelled out in bulky letters. He loved to joke around and say that it was your collar. He’d often tug your face closer to his by hooking one of his long fingers underneath the chain. You loved feeling the heat of his cigar and peppermint scented breath, paired with the cold metal bite of the thick chain pressing nto your neck and he pulled you up, up, up. Elvis either fucked you like he hated you or made love to you as though you were made of silk stretched thin over porcelain. 

It drove him crazy, but he loved being mean to you. Loved biting into your skin to leave claim marks deep enough to draw blood. You’d yelp and thrash, scratching at his exposed flesh, all while he’d stay deeply buried inside of you. Marking you. Claiming you. Owning you. He’d apologize afterwards with strong calloused hands stroking gently at your hips, his skilled tongue flattened against your abused pussy. 

Your ole’ man was harsh and cruel. He loved striking first and getting even. He believed that pain and death were two of the greatest motivators in life. He held strong to his convictions, maintaining that certain things weren’t deserved but earned. 

Life being one of them. 

Elvis rarely messed up. His ideas were usually reckless- the thoughts of a mad man- but everything always worked in his favor.  He was an evil genius, his mind only working in absolutes. 

You were lounging on the king sized bed, your long legs stretched out behind you, your head popped up on your elbow. You enjoyed watching Elvis work. You liked the way his long fingers rubbed against the barrel of his gun as he polished his collection. You liked the deep rumble of his voice, like lightning before a storm, when he was barking orders at someone over the phone. You liked it when his blue eyes turned glacial when something didn’t go exactly his way- the murderous aura that overcame his built stature. 

He was all powerful. He had a penchant for torture. He didn’t believe in “forgiving and forgetting”. He feared no one and nothing. 

And he was yours. 

“And what the fuck do they want?” He leaned back into the red velvet desk chair, boredly staring out the window and down at the view of the city. He owned half of it. 

You watched him with heavy lidded eyes, your limbs still shaky and unstable after an hour of incessant pounding from the tops of Elvis’s muscled thighs. Usually he stayed in bed long enough to watch his cum drip out of your spent cunt, lazily scooping the warm seed up with two fingers only to shove it back inside. 

Keep it where it belonged. 

There was something about tonight's conversation with one of his lackeys, Lamar, that felt off to you though. 

“Tell Frank that if he tries to get anywhere close to me that we’re gonna have’a problem,” A heated pause, and then Elvis was slamming his large fist down onto his oak table. “I’ll blow his fuckin’ brains out. You tell him that verbatim, got it?” He slammed the black telephone back down onto the receiver, stretching out his long legs before letting out a troubled groan. 

“Baby,” He mumbled as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, giving them a few exhausted rubs. “Imma need you to get dressed.” He braced his hands on his knees, letting out a small groan before he was up and moving, one of his shoulders popping when he stretched his long arms up and over his head. 

You dragged yourself up to a sitting position, strands of hair falling off of your shoulder, a few flyaways falling into your face. He wanted so badly to lay you back down on the bed and hold you until you fell asleep. Maybe push himself inside of you up to the hilt, just so that you could warm his cock while you slept. 

But tonight was going to be different. 

Tonight he’d have to teach a few rookies a lesson before he could turn in for the night. He was getting old, and the last time he checked the clock it was nearing midnight. He was tired, and because of that he was extra grumpy. 

He lit up a cigar before reaching into the large walk in closet for the closest shirt. He wasn’t shocked to find that it was a black button up- nearly everything he owned was black. He didn’t bother tucking the material into his trousers before he walked into the living room to slide on the pair of shoes that he had been wearing earlier in the night- before you had slyly cupped him through his pants the moment the both of you had gotten back to dinner. 

“What's wrong?” You called out to him from the bedroom, untangling your limbs from the satin bed sheets and stumbling into the closet. You put on the nearest lacey nightgown, ripping one of your robes off its hanger to pull on as well. 

“Frank and a few of his men are bein’ nice enough to pay me a visit, that’s all. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He shrugged on the leather holster vest, tightening the belts at his chest before loading them up with guns. He slipped a few magazines into his pockets, just to be safe. 

 He loved watching you dress- but almost everything you did turned him on. The bullets jingled in his pockets as he leaned against the french doors that connected the living room to his private quarters. You could spit in his face and he’d be rearing and ready to teach you a lesson. 

He worshiped you. 

Which is exactly why he had to keep you protected. 

He crossed his strong arms over his chest after he folded up the sleeves to his forearms, the tattoo of his family crest now on full display. “You’re gonna hate me for this,” He started, licking his plush lips before continuing. “But imma need you to get in the closet and close the door, honey. Whatever ya hear out here. . . don’t come out until ya hear me tell you to.” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you stared at him from across the room, your heart already thundering in your ears. “I-I can’t just stay with-” 

“No!” He barked, causing you to jump in shock. He never raised his voice at you. “This is gonna be bad. "Brains smeared on the walls” sorta bad, lil one.” 

You sucked in a breath, your joints locking up in panic. He could tell that you were starting to spiral, and so he took a few long strides to get to you, pressing a few quick pecks against your already kiss-swollen lips. 

“There’s a couple’a guns in the closet. They’re all loaded. I want ya to shoot anyone that comes through these doors that ain’t me.” 

You nodded your head, shakily turning around to face the closet door. 

“Use your big girl words. I want to hear that you understand.” 

“I understand, Elvis.” 

The dyed brunette heard the closet door shut, and he was quick to close the french doors, only shapes and blurry colors visible behind the frosted glass windows. Almost on cue the door to the suite slammed open, the doorknob going straight through the drywall of the entryway. The man’s eye twitched, one of his guns already in his hand. He felt the cool metal- the weight of the weapon.

It was all familiar, just like going back to Memphis. 

Happiness can be found in a warm gun. When his finger is on the trigger, no one can do him any harm. Elvis could shoot a hole straight through a quarter from half a mile away. 

He was God with a revolver. 

“What the fuck has you bargin’ into my home at midnight, Frank? Did your wife leave ya? Maybe you want to park your sorry ass on my couch.” Elvis used his free hand to push back a few strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. 

Frank growled, flashing his clenched teeth at the younger male that stood across from him. 

“I know you took it. Don’t play dumb, you hick.” 

Elvis took a deep breath in through his nose to cool down the heat that was building in his chest. He acted too quickly on his anger- it was something that he was working on. 

“Frankie, I ain’t got the time’a be arguin’ like this. Either tell me why you’re here or get the hell out.” He could have been balls deep in your pussy again by now if it wasn’t for the rude interruption. 

“Someone stole a hundred pounds of product from one of our warehouses last night, and I know it was you.” 

Elvis stood there stoically, his face completely void of any emotion as he let the other male’s words sink in. After a few seconds the corner of his lip turned up into a small smirk. Then it evolved into a grin. 

Before Frank could understand what was going on, Elvis was clutching at his stomach, throwing his head back with loud laughter that echoed around the room. 

“F-Frankie Boy, I had no clue you were such’a comedian.” He wiped at one of his eyes with the back of his hand, as if to rid himself of a tear. “You think that I, Elvis fuckin’ Presley, would steal a measly one hundred pounds. . . from you? I could own you and your entire family four times over. You’re nothin’ to me. Nothin’ but’a speck on a whole map’a pricks.” 

Frank and the two sons at his side bristled with anger. Elvis didn’t flinch when he heard the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off. He didn’t even bat an eye in their direction. 

“Then who the fuck took it?” Frank asked through clenched teeth, the veins in his forehead bulging. 

Elvis thought that the old man’s fat head might explode, especially if he kept tensing up like that. 

“Maybe ya should check out the nearby gas stations. I’m sure some junkie had a field day., is all” 

And Elvis was right. He hadn’t been the one to steal the product. . . but he did check out one of Frank’s warehouses. He preferred to keep an eye on his competition. 

Elvis didn’t invite the homeless man into the building. . . but he hadn’t exactly locked the door back behind himself when he left. 

“If you don’t start talking, Presley. . . I’ll carve that pretty littl-” 

Elvis might have been an older man, but he was still far faster and stronger than most men that were fifteen years his junior. He’d been in this game a very long time. Before Frank could even finish the sentence, Elvis had one arm wrapped around his throat, his other hand holding a smoking gun. 

The three men had been too shocked to have even heard the gunshot ring out in the penthouse. All they could do was blink dumbly at each other. 

That was before the pain kicked in, anyway. 

The shortest of Frank’s sons dropped to the floor, screaming out and clutching his shattered knee. The gun was already pointed at Frank’s other son before they could even recover from the surprise. 

Elvis pressed his lips against Frank’s ear and spoke through clenched teeth, tightening his hold around his throat. The room plummeted into silence, the only sound behind the boy’s whimpers of pain and the deep sound of the mob boss’s voice. 

The sound of your man’s voice. 

“Touch her and you’re dead.”

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

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[adoristsposts]

Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat | Quinn Hughes

author's note; another song fuelled fic for quinny boy. based on ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap because i fell in love with it as quickly as i did with the oldest hughes brother summary; a casual hookup is enough for quinn. until he realises it isn't. word count; 0.9k warnings; slight nsfw, mention of drinking if u squint enough characters; Reader x Quinn Hughes

I do not want to fight this anymore I just want to lay back And watch you pin me to the bed

Quinn had never felt better than when he finally gave in. The two of you had taken the boat out before anyone else could ask to tag along. And now, as the sun hit your bare skin and turned you into a glowing deity, he only wanted to worship you. "Why are you staring at me like that?" You laughed. He turned red and shook his head like the dirty thoughts would fall out of it. "You checking me out, Hughes?" "Yeah." He admitted. You turned pink, "Do something about it, then."

I used to call you my best friend Way back before you were my everything Now I'm sucking your neck

They're just a friend, he had said so many times. Just a friend. A friend that he was totally obsessed with. Every thought he had was about you. It was far from fair. How was he supposed to tell people you were just a friend when you meant everything to him? He didn't voice this. Instead, he laid in bed with you. The only trace of him he could leave behind were hickeys. And he marked you with as many of them as he could. Mine. He wanted to tell the world. Mine, mine, mine. And the hickeys were the way to show it. Because you were his. Almost.

And you wrote my favorite song Now I'm fucked up and carrying on I do not know the words to it yet, oh

He was yours, too. He couldn't escape you no matter where he went. He was at the bar with his teammates. Fucked up beyond comprehension. And the song you had shown him yesterday when he had driven you home and you had asked him to come in came on. The lyrics were so familiar, but he didn't know them. You would know them. He should tell you to come here. To hear your new favourite song, to see him. He should call you. "Hi." A girl in front of him giggled. He tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Hey."

And you're not my protector I hope you know it wasn't her That kept me off your side of the bed, oh

"Brock told me you met someone the other night." You said as you handed Quinn his plate. "Oh." He replied like an idiot. He couldn't think of anything better. "I called you that night." You stated. "Oh." He said again. He wanted to cry. He hadn't even touched her that night. Hadn't wanted to tarnish his body with the feeling of her when all it ever wanted to feel was you. "So was she pretty?" "Who?" "The girl, Quinn." You laughed. Like it was so casual. Like the two of you were still friends, and you were wondering about his latest date. Prying for details so you could make sure she was the one for him. "She was fine, I guess." He told you.

You're in his living room And it may not mean much you But your plates are in his sink And your sweater's on his bed Won't you text me when you're home? My baby, spare me all the rest

Quinn wanted to throw up. He stared at the text. Over at a guy's house. He's washing the dishes. Scary! He couldn't think straight. Your dishes should be in his sink. Your shirt was still on his bedroom floor where you had left it the other day. Text me when you get home safe. He sent back.

Please just tell me That nobody else touches you like I do Oh tell me that nobody else touches you like me

You two were together again. Bodies becoming one tangled mess of limbs and love. "Tell me" He mumbled against your lips, "Tell me no one touches you like I do. Come on, baby." He coaxed. "Quinn," You moaned breathlessly, "No one. Only you."

And it hits me I don't want anybody else touching you Like I do Like I do Like me

When you were done you curled up on his chest. Wearing his Canucks shirt and a pair of his old shorts. He couldn't shake the thought that you had slept with that other guy. Couldn't stop himself from hating the idea of it. He wanted to be the only person that touched you. That got to love you. It felt unnatural that anyone else could do it if they wanted to. If you wanted them to.

Is it okay? That I don't want Anybody else touching you like I do Like I do Like me

"Be with me," Quinn whispered into your hair. You looked up at him. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and he realised that maybe his declaration of love should have been more poetic. "What?" You asked. "Be with me. Like, officially." Because he couldn't come up with anything poetic. All he could do was breathe in your scent and hope you'd agree and he'd get to hold you forever. "Quinn." You said softly. For a moment he thought you'd say no. But then a smile uncurled on your lips and you kissed him. "Yes. God, yes."

[gospelwavesng]

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[astarions-bride]

Stepping away from my normal asks, but do you have any headcannons on how our good neil newbon men would eat pussy? Asking for a friend 👀

-⭐

Oh I like this question 😈

Nikolai

Playful. Teases you and makes you beg, nibbles on your thighs, and will hold you open so he has clear access to whatever he wants. Edges you until you cry. Gets pussydrunk surprisingly quick. Will try his best to nap between your thighs because of the warmth. Will eat you out the second the urge strikes him regardless of where you're at or who you're with. Absolutely teases you with his fangs and purrs against your clit.

Rob

Dedicated. He will not let up until you are nearly screaming. Prides himself on being able to take you apart and will get cocky and sometimes even playful. Definitely likes for you to ride his face. Wants to leave you boneless and your voice gone when he's done with you. Dirty talk that leaves you blushing for days.

Ernst Robinson

Explorative. Wants to discover every single sound you make or every movement of your body. Will talk to you about his latest book while his face is buried in your cunt. Finds overstimulating you entertaining. Is a quick learner and can get easily pussydrunk.

Charlie

Sloppy. He doesn't care how messy he (or you) gets and will absolutely hold you down while overstimulating you because he's not done with you yet. Eats you out like his life depends on it. Will get fully engrossed in the act and might dabble in pussy spanking if he's particularly worked up.

Father Anthony Bridge

Gentle. Wants to savor every moment and take his time methodically taking you apart. Will spend hours if you let him worshipping you. Will happily go down on you at a moments notice and stay there until you forcefully pull him away. Frequently accidentally overstimulates you.

Richard

Desperate. He wants to taste and touch every part of you and constantly overstimulates you because he just can't get enough. Easily gets pussydrunk and will refuse to budge from his spot until you are a boneless heap.

Captain Hook

Mean. Teases you mercilessly and will absolutely make you beg. Very skillful and loves to draw out your pleasure until you cry. Into pussy spanking. Very vocal and demands you be as well. Won't stop until you are screaming and even then he'll probably continue.

Mark Griffin

Languid. Loves to take his time and ease you into your orgasm(s). Kisses your lower abdomen and massages your legs in between rounds, staying firmly between your thighs, will hum songs against your clit and make you guess them. Eats you out whenever he stressed because it makes him feel better.

[h0bg0blin-meat]

Hey Meat! Currently combing through Matt Clayton’s Hindu Mythology: A Captivating Guide to Hindu Myths, Hindu Gods, and Hindu Goddesses and I was wondering if you could give like a little introduction to the main concepts/gods/goddesses? I’m seeing many terms like “the Veedas” and “the Shastras” as I go through it and I’m picking up context clues and I could probably google them but I’d like to hear from actual people and especially those who know and care deeply about these Myths (like you <3). So… can you help me? /gen

Heyyy Neptune! First of all I apologize it took me so long to answer you dfnsfjfdjg forgive meeee

I love how ardently you're researching Hinduism. I haven't really read his book, but I'll help you with giving you an overview of it, so to speak.

Firstly lemme tell you about the Vedic knowledge system, which consists of:

Vedas

Vedangas

Upavedas

Vedas: These are the oldest known scriptures of Hinduism. The religion has four Vedas, namely the:

Rig Veda (RV): book of hymns to the deities.

Yajur Veda (YV): book of mantras and worship rituals

Sama Veda (SV): book of chanting songs

Atharva Veda (AV): book of procedures of everyday life

Each of them have four subdivisions:

Samhitas (mantras, hymns, prayers and benedictions)

Brahmanas (explanations and instructions on performing Vedic rituals)

Aranyakas (texts on the meaning and symbolisms of rituals and ceremonies basically). They were mainly composed by sages who meditated in the wilderness, hence the name of the texts (aranya means forest in Sanskrit).

Upanishads (texts on meditation, philosophy and spiritual knowledge)

Upasanas (additional). These are texts on worship.

Vedangas: These are the six auxiliary disciplines of Hinduism, and are heavily linked to the Vedas. They are:

Shiksha: Study of phonetics

Vyakarana: Study of grammar

Chhandas: Study of poetic metres and rhythm

Niruktas: Study of etymology

Jyotishya: Study of astrology and astronomy

Kalpa: Study of rituals and guide to ritual instructions

Upavedas: These are texts regarding certain fields of work like:

Ayur Veda: Study of medicine and life sciences

Gandharva Veda: Study of music, art and dance

Dhanur Veda: Study of archery and warfare

Arthashastra: Study of business and administration

Speaking of Shastras, they are kinda similar to Upavedas, and deal with certain fields of knowledge, like we saw in the case of Arthashastra. There are many shastras:

Bhautikashastra - Study of physics

Rasashastra - Study of chemistry

Jivashastra - Study of biology

Vastushastra - Study of architectural science

Shilpashastra - Study of mechanical arts and sculpture

Nitishastra - Corpus on ethics and policies

Alamkarashastra - Study of rhetorics

Kavyashastra - Study of poetics

Sangitashastra - Study of music

Natyashastra - Study of theatre and dance

Yogashastra - contains instructions and teachings on yoga

Mokshashastra - contains instructions and teachings on moksha

Nyayashastra - contains instructions and teachings on justice, laws and judgement

Dharmashastra - contains instructions and teachings on dharma

Kamashastra - contains instructions and teachings on love, desire and pleasure.

And so on.

Then we have the Puranas, which are texts on various topics, usually legends and lores. A few examples are:

Brahma Purana

Vishnu Purana

Matsya Purana

Kalika Purana

Vamana Purana

Shiva Purana

Agni Purana

Bhagavata Purana

And so on. The latest Purana ever written was the Kalki Purana, which was around 400-600 years ago. It is believed that Ved Vyasa (the author* of the epic Mahabharata) composed all these Puranas as well. But many disagree.

*some believe Ved Vyas got Ganesh (the God of wisdom, success and remover of obstacles, and the son of Shiva) to write the Mahabharata for him. While some believe Ved Vyas wrote it himself.

Then we have the Sutras which are aphoristic (concise expression of a general truth/principle) texts. Some examples are:

Brahma Sutras

Yoga Sutras

Nyaya Sutras

Kama Sutra

and so on.

Then comes Itihasa (historical texts), which include the two major epics of Hinduism, namely:

Ramayana (composed by Valmiki)

Mahabharata (composed my Vyasa/Ganesh)

Read the epics I'll not spoil it for ya heehee

Now, for the Gods. Oh man there are so many, but not 33 crore (1 crore = 10 million), contrary to popular belief, but rather 33 types.

In the very beginning of the pantheon, the main Gods were:

Indra (god of thunder and rain and the King of Gods)

Agni (god of fire)

Mitra (god of friendship, sun, daylight)

Varuna (god of waters, oceans, night time)

Vayu (wind god)

Soma (wind god, also sometimes called the moon god)

Ushas (goddess of dawn)

Ashwins (twin solar gods of medicine and sons of Surya)

Surya (Sun god)

Rudra (another wind/storm god who later became another form of Shiva)

Vishnu (bro doesn't have any specific assigned field tbh)

And a few others like Brihaspati (Jupiter god), Pushan (solar god of meetings, marriages, roads and cattle), Savitr (god of speed and cosmos) and many others.

Now there was this supreme vague deity in the Vedas. It's not Brahman yet. They (for the lack of a better set of pronouns) appear later. But it is some kind of supernatural force that let to the creation of this universe, and was initially mostly referred to as Prajapati (sometimes it wasn't one being though, rather a group), from what I can infer. Some may even called em Purusha. In the link you'll also get the First Creation Myth of Hinduism.

There is also an agnostic section in the Rig Veda, known as the Nasadiya Sukta. In this specific section we know there's some form of a supreme deity, but it's very vague as to what it is.

Moving on, in around mid-Vedic period, Vishnu became heavily popular, and two new deities came into being, namely Brahma (who soon got the title of Prajapati) and Shiva (from Rudra because previously Rudra had an alternative name called Siva. So Ig that's where 'Shiva' stemmed from. But again not sure).

Vishnu and Shiva became extremely popular, to the point that they got an entire sect of people dedicated to each of em, hence Vaishnavism and Shaivism (respectively) were born. Vaishnavs heralded Vishnu to be the Supreme God, while Shaivites heralded Shiva to be the Supreme God. (Soon Harihar or Vishnu-Shiva sect also emerged where both the Gods were considered the same, and hence both were the Supreme Gods, or Supreme God, if we consider them one entity) But in the future we can see Vaishnavism took over the spotlight, and finally during the age of the epics, Sanatan Dharma was born, which eventually became synonymous with Hinduism, and now almost everyone considers Vishnu is the Supreme Lord (while many others consider it to be the Brahman, who Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma are a part of).

Vishnu actually gained the most popularity from the two epics that I've mentioned, and the first one is almost entirely surrounded around his avatar, Ram (yes he has avatars now). His most popular avatars include Ram and Krishna, and the latter has an entire organization dedicated to him (ISKON or International Society for Krishna Consciousness), and this org considers THIS avatar as the Supreme Lord, and actually considers Vishnu as his avatar, not the other way around. Krishna also appears in the famous Bhagavad Gita, which is the prime philosophy book of guidelines for the Hindus today.

Buckle up, it's about to get more confusing cuz now Vishnu is our main character for a while (bro has HEAVILY influenced this religion atp there's no turning back for him now). His evolution is so interesting cuz who'd have thought in the Rig Vedic times that he'd grow up to be THIS popular TOT. Not Indra for sure xD.

Anyhoo so about Vishnu's avatars. He has ten main avatars that appear through the cycle of Hindu Yugas (eras):

Matsya: Big fishiee. Some paintings portray him as a merman tho.

Kurma: Giant tortoise go brrr.

Varaha: A boar-man :D. Pumba's gunna vibe with him fs.

Narasimha: Very angy lion-man. Will be besties with Sekhmet in a heartbeat i just know it.

Vamana: Cute "lil" dwarf (covered the universe in three steps)

Parshurama: Appears in the Mahabharata

Rama: Main character of Ramayana (hence the name), and is the younger brother of Balarama.

Krishna: One of the main characters of the Mahabharata

Balarama/Buddha (sources vary)

Kalki (future avatar)

Now Mohini is the female form of Vishnu. Whether or not she counts as an avatar is debated. She's the goddess of beauty and a seductress that lures bad guys (mostly Asuras) and then kills them, or atleast teaches them a lesson (but she also attracts the devas sometimes. Shiva for example). So yeah.

His wife is Lakshmi, who's the goddess of wealth, fortune, power, beauty, fertility and prosperity. She also has avatars btw.

Now the Second Creation Myth is pretty messy. Different sects have different takes on it. Usually it is considered that:

Brahma created the universe (or universes in case of the multiverse version).

Vishnu preserves the universe

Shiva destroys the universe

This process is considered cyclic and after the destruction Brahma creates a new universe, and it keeps repeating.

The origin of these three gods are also debated. Some say Brahma created Vishnu and Shiva, some say Vishnu created Brahma and Shiva, some say Lakshmi created Brahma, some say Shiva created Brahma and Vishnu. Some say Vishnu and Shiva are two of the Adityas (comprising of Indra, Agni, Mitra, Varuna, Surya etc.), and hence the children of Kashyap and Aditi.

Quick desc of Shiva is that he's the god of destruction, rebirth, time, benevolence etc. He also has avatars, plus a female form, called Shivani. His wife is Parvati, who ALSO has avatars, primarily Kali, Durya, Gauri etc. Sometimes Parvati and Lakshmi's avatars overlap. Sometimes, Vishnu and Parvati's avatars overlap (like Krishna-Kali).

He and his wife have two sons- Ganesha (god of wisdom, beginnings, remover of obstacles etc.), and Kartikeya/Murugun/Skanda (god of war). Who's the elder one is debated but usually Kartikeya is considered older.

Also Brahma's wife is Saraswati (goddess of wisdom, knowledge, music, flowing water, abundance etc.), who was born from him. Bro has faced some issues with falling for ppl (women) he has created actually lol, which is why he was cursed by Shiva and even lost one of his heads, hence ending up with four heads, when he initially had five. Check this site out as to why he was cancelled by Mahadev (another name of Shiva).

Now we have two Holy Trinities:

Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva (However, Vishnu and Shiva are way closer to Indra, while Brahma's kinda like the dad of the group, yk)

Saraswati, Lakshmi, Parvati

Then we have the Devas and the Asuras, who can be compared to the Aesir and Vanir, in a way. The Devas are usually the benevolent one, who attained the amrit (elixir), while the Asuras are usually the antagonists. But tbh, in my opinion, both of these groups are morally grey as fock.

Parents of Devas (Rishi/sage Kashyapa and Aditi)

Parents of Asuras (Rishi/sage Kashyapa and Diti)

Diti and Aditi and daughters of king Daksha (one of the Prajapatis). The reason the Asuras turned out the way they did was cuz Diti approached Kashyap at an unholy hour, to put it shortly. Sources say she was also jealous of how Aditi's kids turned out, which might be another factor to how her kids turned out in turn (lot of 'turn's we're getting ahah)

They are described well in the Samudra Manthan, from the Vishnu Purana. Have a look.

Now see, this stark contrast between the Devas and the Asuras didn't quite exist back in the earliest Rig-Vedic period. In fact, some of the most prominent Devas were referred to as Asuras in the Rig Veda, most famously Varuna, who was actually referred to as the leader of the Asuras/Asuryas. Other Devas who got referred to as Asuras include Indra, Agni, Mitra, and a few others. So I have a feeling the concept of the modern-day Asuras didn't quite exist back then.

Now for the concepts of Hinduism, like Moksha, Dharma etc., I think I'll refer to actual practising Hindus to explain it to you, since they'd be able to explain them in a much better way. They can also add to my explanations of things, or correct me if I explained anything wrong. So I'mma tag em.

@kaal-naagin @zeherili-ankhein @inc0rrectmyths @randomx123 @ssj2hindudude @blue-lotus333 (idk if you're a Hindu but you still know a lot so) and anyone else who wanna join.