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coeurify · 6 months

Note

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

#vampire!ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut

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daisynik7 · 7 months

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Neighbor Nanami headcanon where he uses his new neighbors mini garden on their balcony as a conversation starter. Man had a crush for his pretty neighbor since she moved in months ago, but his tongue is always tied but one day he notices she is growing cherry tomatoes among all the flowers and herbs and his mouth is faster then his brain

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my inbox for months now, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to reply! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. :) Heart divider credit to @/cafekitsune!

You sip your coffee on the balcony, relaxing into the patio chair, basking in the morning sunshine. It’s been almost two months now since you moved into this new apartment and it finally feels like home. The first week you arrived, your parents helped you plant a miniature herb garden and you’ve somehow managed to keep it alive since. It’s now sprawling with fresh basil, parsley, and cilantro, all of which you use often to elevate certain recipes. You glance at the pot beside it, inspecting the cherry tomato plant you received as a house-warming gift from a friend. So far, no fruit yet, only leaves, though you’re hopeful you’ll see progress soon.

Right on cue, you hear the distinct swoosh of a sliding door opening, then see your neighbor step out onto his balcony. You smile at him, waving. “Good morning, Nanami.”

He turns to face you, giving you a polite nod, a steaming mug of hot tea in his hand. “Good morning.”

Your conversations usually don’t last very long. Sometimes it ends just like this, with the both of you silently enjoying the quiet morning together until either of you decide it’s time to get ready for work. He’s a quiet man, maybe even a little shy at times. Though you find comfort in his presence.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he takes a sip of his tea, staring out into the horizon. Golden streaks of sunlight shine on him, casting a beautiful glow on his figure. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. You’ve always thought that ever since you met him.

Feeling chatty today, you stand up, walking to your garden, grazing the delicate basil leaves between your fingers. “Do you cook?”

He’s surprised at your question, hesitating slightly before he answers, “Yes, I do.”

“My garden is overflowing now. Would you like some fresh herbs?”

He walks to the end of the balcony closest to you. “Are you sure?”

You grin at him. “Of course! I don’t know what else to do with all the excess. I’m running out of recipe ideas.”

His mouth opens, but then closes, remaining silent. You’re curious what he wants to say, though you don’t ask, plucking the stems off gently. “I’ll put these in a bag for you.”

When you return, you notice him staring at the cherry tomato plant, studying it carefully. You hand the herbs to him, hoping he’d ask you about it. Instead, all he says is a quiet, “Thank you,” before bidding you farewell, going inside.

You sigh, sinking back into your patio chair, wondering what you’re doing wrong.

When the tomatoes sprout, you can’t contain your excitement, spending the morning marveling at the round green bulbs decorating the vines. Nanami is out with you, remaining silent, though you catch him glancing in your direction a few times. You want so badly to converse with him, but you’re unsure how. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the herbs since you gave it to him over a week ago. Did he use them yet? What did he cook with it?

Finally, on the day your little tomato babies are bright red, Nanami speaks to you. “Cherry tomatoes,” he says, looking at your plant.

You beam at him. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

He gazes at you, smiling. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach and suddenly, you’re speechless, unable to think of anything else to say. But you don’t need to, because this time, Nanami does the talking. “I’ve used up all of the herbs you gave me. Thank you again.”

“I’m so glad you found a use for them,” you reply, finding your voice, standing as close to his balcony as possible. “I’m not sure yet what I’ll use these tomatoes for.”

He does the same, and it feels like there’s barely any distance separating you now. “I know a great pasta recipe I can show you. If you’d like.” There’s a hint of blush in his cheeks. Maybe this is what he’s wanted to tell you all along.

You smile wider at him, happy with this progress. “I’d love that.”

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #requests

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

Text

Propaganda

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

Laraine Day (Foreign Correspondent, Mr. Lucky)—no propaganda submitted

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Laraine Day:

Lauren Bacall:

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."

youtube

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

youtube

#laraine day #lauren bacall #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman #Youtube

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years

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Imagine Felix just guiding and talking you through your first time with him

Stuck in my head all week man, i'm begging you to write about it

okay this was supposed to be more dommy i swear but it turned out really soft ;-; sorry lol

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut (18+), protected sex, crying

“that’s it, baby, just like that,” felix mumbles into your neck, pushing his hips forward bit by bit until his body is flush with yours. he stills once he’s bottomed out inside of you and presses a kiss to your temple.

he hopes you can’t feel how he’s trembling as he holds himself above you, hopes that if you can, you won’t attribute it to him being weak—because it’s not that.

he already embarrassed himself when he tried rolling the condom on and the elastic snapped him in the thigh, leaving a noticeable red mark behind. the last thing he needs is for you to think that he can’t even keep himself in position long enough to fuck you.

it’s just… he didn’t expect you to feel this good with the condom on and he’s losing all semblance of control. it’s your first time, so he’s trying to take it slow, but you’re just so goddamn warm and tight and perfect that he can’t seem to think straight.

“you okay?” he manages to ask, needing to make sure you’re not in any pain.

“great,” you hum and smile fondly up at him.

“it doesn’t hurt?”

“no, you made me cum earlier, remember?”

as if he could forget. the sounds you made as you fell apart underneath him were now forever imprinted in his brain. it would have been enough to make him cum untouched if he wasn’t focusing on not doing exactly that.

“yeah, but a couple of fingers isn’t as big as… you know.” he cuts himself off. he doesn’t want to imply that he’s big, doesn’t want you to think that he’s complimenting himself when all he’s trying to say is that there’s a distinct difference between the two.

“you’re sweet,” you say, squeezing his bicep with one of your hands. “and you can move now, by the way.”

“sure?”

“mhm.”

felix gathers up his strength and draws his hips back just slightly, wanting to start with shallow thrusts before jumping right in to deep strokes. you whine, eyebrows pinching together, but urge him to keep going.

“how’s that feel?”

“s-sooo good,” you sigh, hiking your knees up to your chest so that he can drive his cock even deeper.

felix can’t help but chuckle, stroking your cheek fondly.

“look so pretty, angel,” he compliments. “‘m gonna get such a big ego if you keep moaning like that, though.”

“you… deserve… it.”

felix seriously doubts that, but you don’t know any different, any better, so he doesn’t let himself get too carried away.

“cross your ankles behind my back if you’re able to,” he instructs, “that way you won’t strain yourself holding your legs up on your own.”

“like this?”

felix groans as you do what he suggested, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around him. your thighs are hugging him like this too, soft yet strong. he feels completely surrounded by you, by your body, your scent. it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. he wants to fuck you properly— slam into you over and over until you can’t even remember what day it is. he wants to show you what he’s actually capable of, prove to you that he can show you a good time. ruin you for everyone else but him… but he’s almost already cum like. three times now. so that’s off the table, at least for today.

instead, felix focuses on what he’s doing now, which is thrusting into you at a moderate pace, and talking you through it.

“yep, perfect,” he chokes out.

he fucks you in that position for a while, basking in the pleasant sounds of you panting beneath him. you seem to like it, if your whimpers of his name are anything to go by.

he can tell when you start to feel sore, though. your frown of pleasure begins to turn into one of discomfort but you’re trying not to let it show. but felix has been dating you long enough to read you like an open book so he stops what he’s doing and checks in again.

“does it hurt, baby?”

you start to shake your head. “na- a little.”

“let’s stop here for today then.”

he goes to pull out but you stop him, keeping your ankles locked behind his frame.

“i want you to cum though!” you protest.

“tonight’s not about me, silly, remember?”

“but i got to cum it’s not fair!”

“again, it doesn’t really work like that. sex isn’t a transaction. you don’t have to ‘pay me back’ for making you finish.”

you pout silently and begin to blink rapidly. it takes felix a second to realize you’re trying not to cry.

oh, he’s really done it now.

frantically, your boyfriend cups your face with his free hand and pleads for you to look at him.

“baby? what is it? what’s wrong— what did i do?”

you sniffle. “nothing, it’s… it’s stupid.”

“no, it’s not, i promise. nothing you could be thinking right now is stupid. it’s okay to feel overwhelmed or upset or whatever it is you’re feeling… it’s your first time after all, and i’m sorry i couldn’t make it perfect—”

“that’s exactly it, lix!” you lament, wiping your tears with your free hand. “it’s my first time and, and i couldn’t even make you cum. everyone says it’s supposed to be a lot easier for boys to cum but we’ve been going at it for so long now and you’re not even close.”

felix genuinely has to keep his jaw from dropping in shock because that is not the reaction you need right now. he wants to tell you how wrong you are but you’re still talking and he doesn’t want to interrupt and risk making you even more upset so he keeps his mouth shut.

you pause, hiccuping and desperately trying to catch your breath. “i guess, i don’t know i feel like my vagina must be broken or something. is it not good? is there something i could be doing better? you can be honest.”

“baby, no! it’s not you at all! your v- you’re perfect! to be honest, i’ve been fighting an orgasm this entire time. i didn’t want to cum too soon and ruin it for you, that’s the only reason i haven’t. i promise.”

“pinky promise?” you hold your pinky out for felix to loop his own around, which he does, sealing the promise with a kiss to your knuckle.

“pinky promise.”

“so do you want to?” you ask.

“do i want to what?”

“cum, do you want to cum?”

“no, babe, you’re sore already i don’t want to hurt you.”

“but i want you to!”

felix sighs. “baby…”

“what if you cum in my mouth?”

“what?”

you prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow.

“let me suck you off?”

“are you sure?”

“yeah, i’ve been practicing!”

you’ve been what now? this is news to felix, and the very idea of you on your knees, training yourself to take him down your throat is enough to make him feel like he’s cumming.

he is, he realizes, when he feels his cock twitching inside of you, feels his cum fill the condom.

“fu-uck, i’m s-sorry, baby…” he gasps out, doubling over back on top of you, feeling like he’s just been punched in the stomach. “i didn’t… should’ve warned you.”

when felix opens his eyes again, you’re beaming.

“this is the best possible outcome,” you tell him as he rolls off of you.

“huh?” he asks, blinking hazily at you.

“you came and i didn’t even do anything!”

“oh, yeah… see, i told you! you drive me crazy.”

you pat him on the shoulder like you’d just played a friendly game of kickball and grin.

“feeling’s mutual.”

#focus #answered #anon #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #lee yongbok smut

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venomous-qwille · 4 months

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hi qwille!!! I got questions for u! you have lots of characters planned out, and that’s super cool! but how do u usually go about that process? like all your characters are very unique, and I wonder about the design process, as well as how you make their personality distinct! how do you make character dynamics/relationships? because all the scenes I’ve read so far make the characters feel really organic, and mesh really well together! (sorry for all the questions! I’m super curious ^w^)

Hiya! Here is an answer I wrote for this question on discord recently ^^

I will try answer this as thoroughly as possible!

There was a LOT of kill your darlings involved in making characters for gitm. Originally I had a very long list of character ideas that I cut down and down based on the kind of things and themes they would give me the opportunity to write about. I love long ensemble cast stories, thinking back to ones I particularly enjoyed and the ways those characters gelled together helped me a lot. The most important thing when selecting characters was making sure they would give me something interesting to write about! I was also very keen on ones that let me explore the fics main theme of Family from a different angle. I'm not sure how helpful this all is! But yeah, I try to be pretty strict with myself about what I include. The only reason I would include two characters who were very very similar would be to emphasize a difference/divergence between them later on. Characters have to justify themselves by bringing something unique to the table, even if that thing is just a 'very different outlook on life' to the rest of the cast. Over time a lot of those character ideas became more fleshed out in my brain, and characters that were cut from the original shortlist made their way back in. They still have to be able to narratively justify themselves in order to earn a channel in the discord though!

For the gitm guys, while I dont have a literal sheet I fill out I do make sure to answer a couple of basic character work questions: What lie do they believe about themselves/the world? How does it impact the way they interact with others? What central theme do they embody most? What do they want more than anything else? How do they feel about humans? Who are they at their best and who are they at their worst? I found that by answering these sort of questions it helped me discover more about them, which creates more questions- rinse and repeat. The more questions I answered the further away they would get from each other in terms of similarities. The thing that really helped with the gitm boys, especially because their origins are so similar, was leaning in to how different their experiences were post-fazco. They are different people because the world has made them that way. Messing around with foils has been useful too! Characters are no fun in a vacuum, it's how they interact with others that makes them interesting. I like to create ones that will bring out the best and the worst in each other. I think about opposites a lot and I really like narrative symmetry- what lessons can the characters learn from each other? I find that stuff super exciting to read so I really wanted to include it. Some examples of character foils in gitm: Fool & Noon, Sombra & Sunspot, Misuta & Sol

When it comes to finding character voice, I do a lot of test drabbles (a couple of them are on this server), which I use to just fuck around until I find something that feels right. For instance- Sol was very very easy to find the voice of, where as Misuta took weeks of rewrites. Sometimes things take time. Spending this time figuring out their voices at the start really helps fic consistence in the long run, I think. Because of all that prep, I don't really have to do anything to 'get into character' when writing their dialogue (it's fairly second nature now).

In regards to coming up with a character's arc, I look at them and their themes and ask 'what the fuck happened to you, dude?' and then 'how has that entrenched a faulty world view on you?' 'what could you be driven to do because of that world view/misunderstanding?' 'what would it take to fix this world view/misunderstanding?' (the last question is the most important one!). Then voila, you have a very loose framework of a (hopepunk) character arc.

In regards to the actual planning of the fic/character arcs, I have a very big miro board (pic attached) that I use for all this! Most of the major character beats are marked out separately to plot beats etc etc. There are still a bunch of bits that only reside in my brain, but I do try to add them to my plan as soon as they become any kind of concrete. All of the characters also have a background chapter (or rather, a series of chapters that form a short story) attached to their arc, that will recontextualise everything you have learned about them so far! I am so deeply looking forward to dropping these (I already have quite a lot written).

I would say that- for your question on character relationships- the answer does come down to being really specific about what you include. Make sure characters are meaningfully different from eachother, give them goals and experiences that clash and then force them to live/work together in the same space. If you have put time into building your characters before that, then you just need to create opportunities for them to get into conflict and bring out the best/worst in eachother. I really do believe that characters are quite boring in a vacuum- which is why I put so much emphasis on including narrative foils ^^ Tyvm for the ask <3

#gitm au #ghost in the machine au #ghost in the machine #asks answered #fnaf dca #qwillewrites #qwillechatter

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spirit-tracks · 1 year

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Okay SO. Theory Rush after finishing Tears of the Kingdom. Go.

The Zonai are said to have descended from the heavens to help found Hyrule. I can think of another race that descended from the heavens. Do you guys think the minish are native to the Zonai sky islands?

Does the Depths set look a little familiar to you? This along with Josha's theory that people once lived down there, I wonder if the interlopers were present in the Depths before being banished to the twilight realm.

The architecture and robot designs from Skyward Sword have a distinct Zonai look to them! So that leads me to believe the Zonai were the race that created the Lanayru Mining Facility.

It might even be that the Past from Skyward Sword is indeed the time period that Zelda was transported back to! Maybe the legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule goes back even further than the fight between Hylia and Demise: though I admit the early appearance of Demon King Ganondorf throws a wrench in this theory.

About secret stones and the amber relics in Skyward Sword: I want to say there's a connection between them, though amber relics don't seem to be as rare and important as secret stones, (we find them in abundance in Skyward Sword and they don't do much). Of course, i haven't played SS in a while so if they have any more significance it's escaping me at the moment. For the time being I'd like to think ancient hylians might have carried them around as good luck charms to emulate secret stones of their own.

The Legend of the Great Sky Island mini quest in has the construct telling us that the island was supposed to be where a hero will one day awaken to defeat the Demon King. I know our Link wakes up on this island, but there's definitely something eating at my brain about the Great Sky Island being related to (or perhaps even IS) Skyloft, and that the awakening of the hero is referring to Skyward Sword Link. (This potentially supports the theory that the Past in TOTK predates the war between Hylia and Demise)

There's a pretty good chance that Rauru and Sonia's child could have been named Zelda, after the sweet time traveling girl they practically adopted :) the first princess of Hyrule named after the last princess of Hyrule.

There is a giant dragon skeleton in the Gerudo Desert Depths, big as or even bigger than Farosh, Dinraal and Naydra. It is my belief that this mystery dragon became a dragon ala Secret Stone alongside the three aboveland, but was killed at some point in the Depths. I don't know what four people decided to become dragons, but my strongest theory is that Dinraal, Farosh and Naydra are the draconified forms of the oracles of the Golden Goddesses, Din, Farore and Nayru. So who is this?

Seeing as the Lightroots underground are activated via Zonai hand terminal and each Lightroot lies directly beneath a shrine on the surface, I think the Lightroots are extensions of these shrines, having grown straight downward to light up the underground. This is probably obvious but I just barely figured this out 😅

Since Rauru, sage of light, and a new Temple of Time are in this game, I want to think that this person and location are more than just Easter Eggs to Ocarina of Time. I think that the sage from Ocarina of Time was named after King Rauru, though I'm not sure whether him being the sage of light would have been a coincidence or a direct inspiration.

What I do think is that he indeed did put the triforce in that very same Temple of Time and all the sky islands went to the Sacred Realm until Tears of the Kingdom, when they came back to earth and appeared in the sky. That's just a theory but why else would the sky islands be reappearing as if from nowhere?

Speaking of which, there were floating masses in the sky in Minish Cap, namely great big stone temples and fortresses. Minish Cap takes place during the early days of Hyrule, which would be pretty much right after the Zonai descended. Perhaps the Zonai are the Wind Tribe mentioned, and the people we see in game are their descendants, who look much more hylian than Zonai due to being crossed with full hylian genetics over the generations?

Anyway I need to retouch up on my Zelda lore to make sure I'm getting the details right, (that, and i haven't yet 100% the game so i may be missing some totk context), but I HAD to post my thoughts and get them out there! I'll add on later if I think of any more, in the meantime feel free to brainstorm!

#totk #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers #botw 2 #botw 2 spoilers #just covering all my bases #totk theory #totk thoughts #totk meta #loz #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #loz totk #wicked.loz

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nicksnosering · 5 months

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Only Yours

~Matt Sturniolo One Shot~

TW: spanking and that's really about it

smutty smutty smut, just be warned

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of his belt cracking against my bare flesh was almost too much to handle, if it weren’t for the honey-smooth words accompanying each blow.

“Your ass looks so pretty with my marks on it,” he hums, and I hear the distinct sound of the belt whipping through the air again before it makes contact. I swallow a scream, letting it culminate in a groan from deep within my chest. I can feel the pinpricks of tears at the corner of my eyes, willing myself not to let them spill. “You can take it, sweetheart. Just one more.”

Trying and failing not to squirm over his lap, my head turns to the side, attempting to look up and catch a glimpse of Matt’s face. I see his arm cock back yet again, but it halts to a stop when his gaze finds mine, a sadistic smile taking hold of his lips. “You gonna cry, pretty girl?” he mocks, his arm slicing through the air as another loud crack echoes through the room. “Then cry.”

A few stray tears roll over my cheeks, and I can’t help the way my pussy throbs when his hand comes down to rub the blistered skin he’s been torturing for the past 10 minutes. “Matt, please,” I whisper, sucking in a breath at the feeling of his fingers slowly slipping between my thighs, pressing through my folds to discover the waterfall that’s been building since he brought me in here and bent me over his legs.

“Please what?” he asks, hand unmoving. I feel a few more tears drip past my lower lashes, the frustration almost too much to bear.

“Touch me,” I whine out, and he chuckles lowly.

“Aren’t I already touching you?”

“Matt,” I plead, and he removes his hand, instead grabbing my wrist and hauling me up before gently pushing me back onto the mattress. He flashes me a grin, tongue popping out to wet his lips as his large hands pry my thighs apart.

His head dips down, sucking on the sensitive flesh on my inner thigh, and my back arches off the bed, a soft cry falling from my parted lips. “You were so good for me, baby. Don’t worry. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” He blows gently, the cold air sending a rush of pleasure straight to my core, and dives in quickly.

His tongue laps at my folds, running up and down before finding my sensitive clit and nipping at it. I try to slam my legs closed, but his grip on them tightens and I can see his biceps flexing as he holds me open. My breathy moans quickly turn into high pitched whines when he flicks his tongue over it, reveling in the way it has me coming undone.

I look down at his head between my thighs, his eyes staring into my own as he devours me, his pupils blown wide and messy hair falling over his forehead. The sight is intoxicating, and the combination of his eyes locked onto mine mixed with the feeling of his tongue sliding along my clit has my breath caught in my throat.

He pulls back slightly, his index finger coming up to slide into me with ease. “Breathe, baby,” he hums, lowering his mouth back to me as his finger pumps in and out quickly. I let out a loud moan, writhing beneath him. The waves of pleasure being sent throughout my body hit me like a shockwave and I can feel my high quickly approaching.

My hands fly down to thread themselves into his thick, messy hair, pulling and guiding and grinding to get me to the summit. “Jesus Christ,” I moan, legs quivering against his hold, and I can feel the bedsheets beneath me getting soaked with the mixture of his spit and my juices. “I can’t… I can’t hold it,” I warn.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my pussy, and the vibrations are enough to have me plummeting over the edge, chanting out his name over and over again as the waves of pleasure overtake me. My mind goes numb and my brain goes blank and all I can think about is the feeling of his fingers and mouth working in tandem to absolutely destroy me.

Once I’m done shaking, he pulls back. His lips are plump and glistening and it’s dripping down to his chin, the sight almost too much to bear. I use the grip I have on his hair to pull his mouth to mine, licking into it eagerly.

He groans sinfully against my lips before pulling back and grinning. “My beautiful girl,” he whispers, eyes roaming over my body.

I nod desperately, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him to rest on top of me. “Only yours.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

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Everything is Not As it Seems - Part 4

Author’s note: this has taken me waaaay longer than anticipated, but there will be one last part after this one. :)

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three)

“Rhys, I have an idea.”

Working with Rhys and Feyre was the most painful experience of your life. After your talk with Azriel, you decided you needed to do something about your memories before anything can move forward with him. It doesn’t matter how much you want him - you need to make clear distinctions because the fake Azriel and the one that’s here.

Rhys and Feyre were helping you sort through the memories with Eris by changing the Azriel in your memories into the Eris that it actually was. It was a long and embarrassing process, the three of you sorting through a month of memories to alter Eris into his true appearance, but you did it.

Going through it made the two of them even more upset with Eris for his con. Going through the memories, he treated you incredibly kindly and fondly, much like the real Azriel does. They could never fault you for falling for the rouse, especially after seeing how closely Eris matches Azriel’s attitudes toward you.

As hard as it was to show them a month of your life with Eris, they were incredibly kind about your experiences.

Azriel’s first instinct to you coming back was to be able to see you, see what had happened to you. The second thing on his list was to kill Eris. After your interaction where completely bared his soul to you, Azriel decided to take out his frustrations on a certain autumn heir.

You had given Azriel the all clear to seek vengeance on your behalf, never wanting to see Eris again. And vengeance he sought. It didn’t take Azriel long to capture the heir, letting him sit in the dungeons for a few days before properly dealing with him.

After Azriel’s declaration, you decided to write him a letter. You and Rhys had discussed going through and altering your memories, and you decided to reach out to Az. The first letter you wrote reads as:

Dear Az,

I’m sorry things turned out like this. I’m sorry I’m not ready. I wanted you to know that I am trying. Rhys and I are going to start altering my memories in a few days to make my memories more accurately reflect who was in them.

I don’t want to see you until the memories are fixed. I want to see you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. My brain needs to know that you are you and Eris is Eris.

I’m writing to ask you to wait for me. I don’t know how long this will take, if it will even work, or what the outcome will be, but I am asking you to wait. If you can’t, I understand.

Feel free to write back, seeing as how Eris and I didn’t exchange letters I don’t see this as an issue for communication.

Yours,

(Y/n)

You folded the letter, writing his name on the envelope, and slid it underneath his door the next time you passed his room.

You received his response by the end of the day. It was sitting directly on your bed, right in the middle, most likely placed by a shadow.

You opened the envelope, trying to still your nerves over the contents.

Dearest,

I understand your decision to stay away. It is one neither of us like, but I think for things to continue a distinction has to be made in your mind, so I understand.

Do not apologize for circumstances you did not create. If I could only have you as words on the page, I will devour them every night. I will wait as long as is necessary.

Are you okay with me leaving a few shadows with you? I want to know you’re safe, and selfishly I hope they’ll provide you some comfort in lieu of my presence.

I have to say, I practically melted when you signed your last letter as ‘yours’. I will gladly keep you as mine, for as long as you wish.

Yours, heart, mind, and soul,

Azriel

You had to read the letter several times, committing Azriel’s incredibly neat handwriting into your memory.

Between your back and forth letters with Azriel and your progress with Rhys and Feyre, you’ve begun venturing out of your room more and more.

Every morning Azriel has his letter delivered, along with a schedule for his day. It was an idea he mentioned in his third or fourth letter as a way to ensure you don’t run into him unexpectedly. He’s away in the Day Court, procuring something from Helion for Rhys, and he won’t be back until the end of the day.

The amount of letters you’ve exchanged has gone from a daily letter to at minimum three letters a day. Last Saturday when Azriel had a rare day off from work, he sent you no less than 7 letters, each incredibly well thought out.

You bounded down the steps, planning to spend the day with Feyre at her art studio. Every day you’ve spent an hour or two sorting through memories with Rhys and Feyre, taking Tuesdays off. You appreciate all their help immensely, but you need a day spent not living in the past.

Walking through the dining room you find Rhys enjoying a late breakfast.

“Ah,” he says, putting down his orange juice, “the reason I’m running out of parchment at a pace never before seen.”

He backpedals a bit at your blush, worrying he’s gone a bit far. You don’t want to admit it, but you are a bit more shy these days since returning from Autumn. You’ve slowly been spending less and less time in your room, but it’s still a bit of a safe haven for you.

“I only jest, I assure you. I’m actually quite happy you two have found some way to communicate. Mothers knows he was insufferable the days he had no access to you,” muttering that last part.

You pull out a chair next to him, interested to know more, “insufferable? Azriel?”

Rhys laughs, “believe it or not, yes. He wouldn’t stop bothering me for days. I had to put up mental shields to block out his thoughts.” He laughs, his growing somber as he looks at you.

“Truth be told, when you were gone, we were all a wreck, him especially. We only figured out where you were because Lucien had been to that cabin.” He reaches out, grabbing your hands in his, “I’m glad you’re back, not just because of what you mean to my brother. But because we all love you dearly.”

He pauses, smiling at you, “and maybe because Azriel hardly slept while you were gone, spending the whole time trying to figure out everything he could about the Autumn court. I’m pretty certain he actually snuck into the Forest House at one point.”

You gasp, surprised and amazed he was able to accomplish such a thing. “No way!”

Rhys laughs, “just know that you are a thing of great importance to him. Please, always remember that.”

You laugh, seeing right through your high lord. “Ah yes well thank you for the big brother ‘if you break his heart, there’ll be hell to pay’ speech, Rhys.” You pause, letting him laugh, “but he is also a thing of great importance to me, as evidenced by the events that have led us here.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I wish circumstances were different that brought you two together.”

“Me too,” you sigh, looking at the table. You start thinking about if things were different, how they used to be. How the two of yourself used to dance around your feelings. Now you two write what are practically love letters back and forth.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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be-my-ally · 1 month

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The Seatbelt Sign is On

A Big Bunny Vignette.

Bunny wants to get tied up, so uh, here we are. Playboy!Reader x 76/77 Elvis - this little plot-less smutty fic is set between The Lisa-Marie & Crash Landing. Although I think it could be read as a standalone. This is pretty much totally unedited, so apologies for any typos.

warnings: 18+ 18+ 18+. Light bondage. No safewords or anything but it is clearly pretty ssc**. Oral, and penetrative sex (p in v), slight overstimulation.

75-77 elvis x playboybunny!reader (established relationship - here's the link for the rest of the series)

wc: 4.2k (miss concise smut is back baby!!)

** ((Spoiler: Elvis does say he has scissors in case she needs to be cut out - but he’s pretty much just holding her down with some ribbon and a seatbelt.))

Elvis often climbed up the stairs with his last burst of energy post-show - happy to collapse and settle in or onto the nearest chair, sometimes not even making it to his bed, taking in the precious hours of rest before the next stop. It meant that even though you were spending a serious number of hours with Elvis, it didn’t leave a whole lot of time that he was lucid or awake enough to actually spend it with you.

You’d worried it was you, to start with, but you’d heard the guys whispering about him lately. About his lack of interest in the girls he flew out to meet him, or the ones waiting back home for him. You’d watched Sam looking you up and down a little smugly in the middle of the conversation as if saying without a word that there was a lack of interest in you too. The rumours that he couldn’t get it up at the moment followed raucous retellings of salacious events from years before that you were sure were heavily embellished if they’d even happened at all. But, despite what they would gossip about, you never would describe Elvis as lacking in some way, and certainly not out loud. Sure, he didn’t always (or even often) have the energy to be intimate with you but when he did he was as considerate and, usually, as fun as ever.

Sometimes though you couldn’t help but feel like it was just…a bit bland. You still blush when you think about those first few flights on Big Bunny, meeting him in next to nothing for that rehearsal. Nothing has really come close in a long time. He certainly wasn’t behaving in the same way, and you felt a little like maybe you had become too comfortable together, or like a married couple or something. A distinct lack of excitement together.

The issue, you thought while brainstorming ways of keeping it interesting, was that despite how brash and forward Elvis could be, he ultimately became quite shy and almost too respectful towards you while you were alone. You knew enough about how his brain worked to know that part of the appeal of the opposite sex was, for him, the perceived softness and ability to at least perform an act of gentle innocence. He could be brazen and arrogant while ordering you to dance for him, to roll his latest dirty film acquisition, yet when he had you alone he’d be almost apologetic, gentle. You didn’t want him to be mean to you, but maybe a little less of the…desperation. If he could just take a little more control again.

It was at the end of a run of shows, Elvis tired but with it, when the answer came to you. He’d been carefully kissing the inside of your thighs, where you lay, still fully dressed on the bed of the Lisa-Marie when you’d moved your hands onto his head in an attempt to impatiently guide him. He’d tutted at you, immediately pulling away from your fingertips trying to bury themselves into his longer hair.

“No, no, no, keep your hands outta the way, baby, gotta let me work.” He returned, but a kiss to a sensitive crease sent your leg knocking into his shoulder. It’s been a while. You can feel his grin even as he pulls away again to look up his lashes at you.

“I told you you gotta stay still, I need my hands for this, can’t be holdin’ you down.” You’re not sure the noise that came out of your mouth could be heard by anything but dogs but he laughs, shaking his head, “What m’I gonna do with you?” You wiggle a little, and there’s a clunk of metal hitting the floor. You both turn to look, and your wide eyes meet his calculating ones.

“You can. You know, if you want.” He stares at the seatbelt now trailing on the floor for a moment longer before responding, turning bashful;

“Uh, well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t wanna pin you - I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable… I was really only jokin-“ He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead.

“El- it’s ok, really, I think I’d like it.”

“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t - do girls, do ya, do ya, uh, really like that kinda thing?”

“Uh-huh, I think so, or well, maybe not every girl, but I like the sound of it, all tied up and ready for you, just having to take whatever you wanted to give me? Doesn’t that sound good to you too?” While you were talking you could see him looking at the belt, gently stroking your wrist as he considered the proposition, he swallows. You can tell he likes the idea.

“You’d… you just, you’d just let me know if you want out right?” You laugh at his nervous questioning;

“Lord Elvis, what’s running through that mind of yours to do to me that I’d want out?” He shrugs, glancing at the clock.

“Well, not today, baby, gotta be ready for the show in an hour, ‘m gonna, gonna freshen’ up.” And with a pat to your side, he headed to the bathroom, leaving you there.

You realised you might have made an error in judgement bringing it up just then, just when he’d started to get going now you were left with your panties twisted to one side, skirt hitched, alone on the bed with the plane seemingly whizzing past any prospect of an orgasm today.

——————————————————————

“We’re uh, going to Denver, you know, for the uh, burgers.” You pull the headset from your ear, as if blinking at it was staring at him and he would offer you more explanations.

“Oh, yeah… sure, ok.”

“Well, don’t ya wanna come too?” He sounds offended at your noncommittal response, but you don’t really. Truthfully, you still didn’t quite feel like you were rested from the tour yet and you knew it was only a matter of days before you’d be up all hours of the night and day and running ragged after him again. But, he made that dejected sort of hopeful hum that made you cringe at the mere thought of not agreeing to his plans.

“Of course I do - I’ll uh, I’ll be there just as soon as I can.” It’s silent on the other end, and then,

“We’re leavin’ now, so hurry.” Of course he was.

It didn’t occur to you until much later that he didn’t want to go to Denver at all, and definitely not for the burgers - you’d heard Joe ringing from the comfort of Elvis’ fancy car-phone to make sure someone, presumably a pretty Miss Colorado of some sort, was home. Assuring them down the line that Elvis couldn’t come to the phone right now, but if they made sure they were at the airport he’d be there in a few hours for a flying visit. Somehow, you were able to listen to this - your legs nudging his, and his nudging Joe’s, without the slightest jealousy - just a mild sympathy for this girl desperate for the crumbs he was willing to lay. It would be much later that you would realise Denver had nothing to do with this girl either, that it was all an excuse for you. You’d realised there was some kind of ulterior motive to a lesser extent though as soon as you were, quite frankly, shoved into the bedroom as soon as you had boarded.

“Elvis! I’ve got a job to do!” He shakes his head, grinning at you and standing in the way of the door,

“Nu-uh baby, I been thinking about what you said last time.” You didn’t expect that.

“Oh?”

“Yes ma’am, and you’re right.” You really didn’t expect that,

“Oh! Well I can’t say I’m surpr-” You yelp as he pinches your side,

“‘Nough of that, on the bed! I got ‘quipment.” You pause your stride towards the bed, looking at him grinning with his hands on his hips, it was all a bit sudden.

“Um, I didn’t, I mean, I’m not su-” He grins at you,

“I thought you were Miss Confident?” He gets that sly look on his face, his eyes narrowing and crinkling in their corners, “You know… I’ve been readin’ up and I don’t know if I oughta be worried, liking this kind of thing is listed in the DSM you know…” You gulp, your stomach twisting a little, feeling a flush rise up from your chest to your cheeks.

“Jesus El - I’m not the one with equipment! I just like a little…I’m an adult, and I know what I like and I think it’s unfair of you to say that kind of thing, especially when I know what you’ve been up to, and you know Hugh - Elvis stop laughing at me!”

“You’d have thought I was secretly sending you off to the nuthouse baby, the way you were carrying on then,” He manages to get the words out past his giggles, “ ‘s just a bit of ribbon, honey-bunny.” You both feel the rumble of the engine starting up, “C’mon we’re on a time limit.”

“Well, if you’re - if you’re sure…” You bite your lip in nerves.

“Where’d my conf’dent l’il bunny go huh? C’mon baby, ‘s no worries - you’ll like it .”

“Are you - you know what you’re doing?” His mouth gapes a little, wide-eyed.

“Of course!” He looks genuinely offended, for a second before grinning, “I got good at knots in the army don’t you worry.” He winks at you as he salutes, his feet knocking together and you giggle, your tension relieving itself.

“I’d be more reassured if you’d been in the navy.” He swats at you,

“ ‘M better than any of them boys playin’ out on their little boats I tell ya, now hush and let me work here.” Your breath catches again, “don’t worry darlin’ I saw this in a uh, blue movie, don’t ya worry, I know how you like it.”

That did little to calm your nerves - his reassurance that he knew what he was doing too often led to some kind of mild disaster. “Well, ok, but - you’ve got, you’re prepared, right? You got some scissors or, something, haven’t you? In case you hafta get me out quick?”

Elvis puts the bag back onto the bed, holding three fingers up - but his solemn face belies the comedy of the action; “I swear, swear to you, I’ll get you out if you want to be. Not gonna let anythin’ happen to my best bunny.” You look into his eyes pausing for a moment and nod, lying back on the bed. He situates himself between your legs, bending to place a feather-light kiss on the corner of your mouth,

“Aren’t you gonna…?” You shake your wrists at him and he huffs a laugh, his breath fanning over you,

“Gotta get you worked up first baby, ain’t no fun if you’re not ready to wriggle and jiggle around, is it? Now, hush,” He whispers against your skin, “let me work my magic.”

He might not have been focussing his energy through his ‘healing hands’ this time, but you couldn’t deny he did have the magic touch, he barely had to brush his fingers over you, press a thigh against your side, and you were gone from the world, levitating above the bed, above the plane, into the sky above. You’re embarrassingly quick to turn on, making out with Elvis enough to make you squirm. After a minute or so he presses kisses against your clavicle, open-mouthed while his fingers fumble with opening the buttons that stretch from your neck to your thighs, almost immediately shoving his hands around the waistband of your tights and he tugs hard enough that there’s the tell-tale ripping sound of the nylon falling apart - if you’d been more conscious of it you would have rolled your eyes, somehow you never seem to be able to keep a pair for long around Elvis. As it was you were far too distracted to care, relieved simply to be divested of the fabric and you lift your hips to let him roll them off - throwing the destroyed fabric to the corner of the room. His hand supports your back as you lean forward, pulling your arms out of your dress, immediately wrapping them around his neck once you were free.

He’s all-encompassing, someone else might find him smothering, the way his arms seem to be everywhere all at once, caging you against him. But you can’t get enough. Your underwear ends up somewhere, god knows where. You’re reminded again of that revelatory first time when he’s biting nibbling kisses across your chest, tiny pink bruises sucked onto your soft skin, Elvis’ hands pawing at you in that somehow hot clumsy way. He tweaks a nipple and your back arches to meet him, you don’t know when your eyes closed but you open them at the sudden loss of any sensation,

Elvis is sat back on his heels, assessing you, rubbing your thighs firmly. He nods with satisfaction at whatever he sees, reaching up the bed for the ribbon and tugging your wrists towards him. He kisses your pulse, and you wonder if he can feel how it jumps. He tuts when the ribbon twists, wrapping it around several times and looping it over and under before finishing it off with his best attempt at a bow. You make eye contact with each other, and you open your mouth to tease him about it, but he stops you with a pointed finger, his eyes alight.

“Don’t say a word.” You swallow your words, playfully snapping at his finger instead, and he laughs, holding your newly tied wrists above your head as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s somehow dirtier this time, whether because you just feel that way, or because he doesn’t take his time, biting your lip and pushing his tongue into you; forcefully mapping out your mouth. He works his way down, sucking a small, darker bruise on the underside of your left breast, you wonder if it was intentionally close to your heart. You tremble, wriggling against him and after a moment he evidently grows tired of pinning your wrists, his long arms not able to keep them pressed flat while he works down your body and he looks for a way to secure them better.

“Well, I guess we didn’t think this through, honey, it’s not the right kind of headboard, so I s’pose you’ll just hafta keep ‘em there.” He presses your newly tied wrists against the pillows, fingertips brushing the velvet of the headboard and your back arches with the effort of keeping them there. His breath tickles when he returns to his place, and the air over the sticky wetness of your inner thighs makes your arms involuntarily attempt to come back down to hold him in place. Elvis tuts at you, leaning back.

“’S no good. You’re wriggling around too much.” He stands up, his hands on his hips to assess your predicament. He sits back down and peers down the side of the bed. “C’mere.” He hauls your body up and you wriggle up with him until you were high enough up the bed that your back was now supported by one of the cream-golden reading cushions and he was able to pull the seatbelt across your stomach.“Keep your hands there.” He pats them at the top, and you grip the top of the headboard as best you can. “Where was I?”

You’ve lost all ability to speak, simply too turned on to comprehend what’s going on. There’s the barest hint of sweat beading above his eyebrow and glistening on his dark, longer, sideburns. Your hands twitch to cup his face and you whine in frustration, unable to reach where he kneels between your legs, your fingers clutching the dusty top of the headboard, desperate not to ruin the game. He grins, tongue running over his teeth, and you thump your head back against the hard cushion,

“Elvis, c’mon.”

“I’m havin’ fun now, baby,” He sing-songs it delicately and you shiver, “Gonna get you so worked up.” His thick hands grasp your thighs, fingertips digging in, “C’mon, bunny, open up for me.” You have no idea if the growl that comes from his mouth was intentional, or if it just had the unintended side effect of your legs immediately spreading, your breath hitching. He leans in and you feel yourself tense, hairs pricking with the tension of the moment, desperately anticipating his next move.

Elvis is clearly not unaffected by the sight of you - his breathing much harder than before and it tickles as he gently kisses your inner thigh, his pouty lips open. The very tip of his tongue ghosts across your skin, and you shudder at the sensation, aching for him.

“Elvis you’ve gotta - you’ve gotta touch me.”

“I am touching you.” His fingertips continue to dance, and you try to squirm a little, the seatbelt trapping you in place.

“Nooo. Properly.” He chuckles,

“Properly” He teases with a shake of his head and you whine again,

“Ssh, shhh, I’mma take real good care of you, bunny, just relax baby,” He firmly rubs at your thighs, as if he wasn’t the reason you were squirming. You let your head roll back again, suddenly distracted as he teases you by the sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the room, the dark mahogany of the wood-covered room and the dim light reflecting off of the creamy ceiling putting you into a soft-glow focus. You can barely see yourself beyond him, he takes up the majority of your view, and though the concept is hot to you, fully clothed as he was, it left little to look at - just your twitching tied wrists, above both of your bodies, really visible.

Finally he’s kissing across your bare skin and you’d forgotten somehow, impossibly, in the time since you’d last been together like this, just how good he was at this. You’re already so sensitive, you can feel the cooling dampness in the air, and yet it still comes as a surprise at his first kitten licks how responsive you were to him. He presses one hand against your thigh, fingers leaving bruises from his tight grip, holding you totally open to him. Elvis leans back a little, grinning at your attempts to grind on nothing, and you might be ashamed at such a wanton display in the morning but right now you just need the pressure back. He spreads your slick folds with his flattened tongue, moving his fingers in to keep you spread open so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking on the little nub and sending you shuddering.

Your legs are the only part of you able to move, and you wrap them around his, now thicker, waist holding him against you until the movement of his talented tongue and fingers make them kick out. For some reason, even though he wasn’t doing anything new, being secured down like this was making everything feel ten times more - like someone had turned your sensitivity up on a dial. He tongue-fucks into you, and it’s so hard to keep your hands where they are, writhing around as you were, desperate to hold him in place - gain better purchase to grind against his clever, talented tongue.

The singular focus he dedicates to this task always reminds you of that first time and having him so committed only adds to your enjoyment. Elvis renews his efforts, suckling like he needs you for oxygen, and the warm wet pressure builds until finally, you’re shuddering over the edge of orgasm, legs spasming and your back arching as much as it was able to do so - and the tension of the seatbelt across your body - pinning you down far more than you would usually be held, has you electrified, adding to your startling passion. You pant, trembling as he leans back, it’s scandalous how he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick and you try to form words to tell him how earth-shattering that vision is, but you struggle from the sheer anticipation of watching him stand up.

“El- Honestl-El, how’d you, it’s so good. You need, I need you -“

You cut yourself off, panting, as Elvis finally, finally, slips out of his lounge pants and jacket. His tanned hairy chest unveiled itself, a perfect trail leading down to his hard cock, its pink head poking out, glossy with his precum. You shudder, and he grins at you wildly for a moment, before seemingly focussing on the task at hand, clambering back atop you. He mutters the same thing he always mutters as he presses himself into you,

“Y’re good, y’re a good girl, bunny, swear it - y’re so, fuck, so tight.” It probably shouldn’t make your chest glow so much. He presses a hand on your stomach, just below where the seatbelt pins you to the bed - holding you in place for him to get himself situated. The firm pressure is almost enough to tip you over the cliff again. You realise you’re babbling, muttering pleas when Elvis kisses your sweaty cheek, hushing you. He jerks his hips once, twice, in time with your gasps before he growls, evidently incapable of getting the angle right and you suddenly feel yourself being tugged down the bed, hands leaving the headboard and seatbelt scraping your skin until you were lying mainly flat, mostly immobile.

“That’s it, that’s - that’s better - that good for you Bunny?” He doesn’t give you time to respond, laughing to himself, “ ‘course it is. You’re like one of them kids toys, what’re they called, those, those, slip n’, slip n’ slides. So fucking wet down here.” You nod frantically in agreement, stuttering out that you were fine, it was all good - but please, Elvis, please, just move.

It’s a strange sensation, being unable to use yourself to get leverage, and it feels almost objectifying. Lying there just to be used, but you liked it, and Elvis took advantage, pulling and tugging to exactly the pace and angle he needed to chase his own pleasure. You plant your feet, when you manage to get purchase, able to use your thighs to your advantage a little. You can feel the edge rising, but before you get there Elvis stills, his mouth agape, sweat beading at his forehead and eyebrow, upper lip aglow with it, and you feel him pulsing. His hand comes down to stroke between your folds, as he slowly pulls out, and you shake your head - it was almost too much, but he hushes you,

“Shh. Wanna see you go again, it’s only fair - ’n’t that the reason I got you all tied up like this.” You tremble, and he presses his thumb against you, it’s filthy, the viscous mix of your fluids. Elvis deftly rubs your clit, and your body shakes through the waves of orgasm until you squirm away from his fingers, completely overstimulated,

“El- El, that’s that’s enough, I can’t - fuck, that’s too much - too much,” He laughs at you, stroking you a final time as your legs twitch. You lie there panting for a long while, and Elvis gets up before you do, cutting the ribbon off of you, not bothering to deal with the knots that had tightened as you struggled, and heading to grab a drink from the little dressing table alcove at the end of the room while you caught your breath.

The ribbon had done pretty well at keeping your hands together, he’d done them up tight enough that they’d laid fairly flat and untwisted, but still, when you rubbed your wrists there was a light mark and the hint of soreness, especially around the outside edge of your forearm. You unbuckle yourself, sitting upright slowly.

Clearly, there’s a reason people don’t usually use seatbelts like this. The rough edge of the nylon had rubbed you where you’d wriggled around, the lines criss-crossing, while the heavy weight of the gold buckle had left indents - several of which you were sure were going to bruise. You didn’t mind that so much, pressing a finger into the darkest of the marks.

“Good Lord Elvis, I look like I’ve been whipped or something!” He glances back at you in the mirror where you’re now fully upright, brushing your fingers over the pink marks. He points a finger at your reflection,

“No chance in goddamn hell. Nope. There’s not enough space - don’t you go gettin’ any ideas now, li’l girl. Absolutely fuckin’ no.”

---------

taglist: @lookingforrainbows @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny, @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @prompted-wordsmith @richardslady121 @meetmeatyourworst @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @a-literal-no-name @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @eliseinmemphis @iloveelvis @literally-just-elvis-fics @livelaughlove-talia @angelborn1 @amydarcimarie @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @i-r-i-n-a-a @saintomie @literally-just-elvis-fics @missmaywemeetagain @rainyday10-4 @chelsaiswerid @landlockedmermaid77 @mydarlingelvis @ooihcnoiwlerh @from-memphis-with-love

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #be-my-ally #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis fanfiction #big bunny #big bunny vibes #elvis x playboy reader #elvis x you

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whumpshaped · 7 months

Text

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, psychological whump, intimate whumper, forced comfort

"Whatever is the matter with you?"

Beck shrugged a little. He still barely even looked at Helle, let alone engaged in their banter. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

They gently took him by the chin, turning his head towards them so they'd be able to look him in the eye. They didn't seem concerned, just confused and annoyed. "Is it me? Am I the problem? Are my insults and mockery getting less... gutting?"

Beck thought he might be able to sense some semblance of care behind the joking tone, but he was too exhausted to pay too much attention. "No, that's definitely not it," he said honestly. "They're... they're definitely pretty gutting. I mean, if, if we're being honest here– they make me wanna cry half the time."

The vampire let go of him and leaned back, still fixing him with a suspicious look. "Okay. So... whatever is it, then? You barely react. Our of the two of us, you seem more dead."

"I'm tired, Helle," he admitted, and averted his eyes again. "I'm sorry. That's– I think that's just it. I'm so tired of being... afraid, and hurt, and angry. I just can't do it tonight. I bet that's very frustrating, since that seems like the only reason you even keep me around in this way instead of enthralling me and whisking me away to your mansion or whatever, but I just... I can't. I can't do it every night. I'm tired."

The silence that stretched between them wasn't a necessarily uncomfortable one. It was almost peaceful, contemplative. Beck used it to simply zone out and stare at the TV in front of him — despite the fact that it wasn't even turned on, and he was just looking at his reflection. Only his. And Helle? Helle used it to think about whatever the hell vampires thought about, when they weren't thinking about blood and torture. Maybe they were thinking about blood and torture. There was no way to know.

"I do keep you around for those tasty little emotions," they said eventually. "It is quite fun to see you react to whatever I am doing. But I think..." They grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer, positioning him so that he was laid across the sofa with his head in their lap. "I do not have to pull from the negative ones all the time. Especially if they are a limited resource."

Beck would've lied if he said the situation didn't scare him. He felt numb, yes, but he wasn't dead. Or emotionless. His muscles still tensed up at having to navigate unfamiliar territory, and his breathing and pulse quickened. But he couldn't react in the way Helle wanted. He didn't have the energy to protest and beg.

They began gently petting his hair, like one might do with a cat. It felt... nice. It wasn't comforting, but it was objectively pleasant, and... Helle was right. It was different, and different made him feel.

"I could make the distinction differently," they murmured. "I could simply make your days bad and worse, have your brain switching between dread and more dread."

Oh, it was a foolish question, the one on the tip of his tongue; but it was a justified one. Should he risk it? Or should he keep quiet and enjoy the break?

He was never going to learn to keep his mouth shut.

"Why don't you?" he asked quietly.

The vampire scratched his scalp with sharp nails, and Beck once again felt like he was nothing but a pet. But it was so good. It felt so nice. He couldn't help but turn his head a little, lean into the touch, and even though he managed to stifle the pleased hum that threatened to breach his aura of indifference, the way he arched his back to be able to push against Helle's hand probably told them everything they wanted to know.

They smiled sweetly. "It is an odd thing, really. Sometimes I look at your adorable little face and I want nothing more than to ruin it with tears and bruises. And sometimes... sometimes I come here with that exact intent, and yet you manage to say or do something... and I just change my mind out of nowhere. Sometimes I want to see you like this."

"Like a dog."

"Like a happy dog. Relaxed, content, lazily wagging his little tail — wagging it specifically because I scratched him behind the ears." Beck felt his face heating up at the comparison, even though it was the same one he'd made a moment ago. It was different, coming from Helle. "But it does make me wonder... How would you react if I were to take it all away?"

Beck tensed again, waiting for them to do just that. For their fingers to tighten in his hair, for the claws to draw blood. For Helle's gentle expression to turn cold and cruel. He found himself desperately hoping it was merely a hypothetical.

"There it is," they whispered. "That fear. That uncertainty. That pleading look I treasure oh so much." They continued petting him, satisfied with how he was unable to relax at all now. "A little hope and kindness goes a long way, I suppose."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #psychological whump #intimate whumper #forced comfort

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hyptrance1 · 3 months

Text

Lock it Away

Alright, here’s another induction, a bit different than my other ones. My last… all of them were focusing on using your pleasure in your dick/antenna to help with the going under process. This time what I’m thinking is twofold: that you’ll wake up with a trigger to lock your thoughts and brain away for me, and a desire to lock your cock up and focus on the pleasure of submitting to me. The focus of this one being more obedience being the focus of your pleasure, that the biggest way to feel it is to submit and lock your brain away. Heavy submission vibes, so obviously if you’re not into chastity or submitting to me, please don’t read this. If you’re okay with doing both, locking away your cock and mind and submitting to me, then by all means continue reading. My last word of caution is that if you think text hypnosis doesn’t work on you, well, there have been many a guy who has thought that and has gone under anyways. So, being aware of that, I guess enjoy.

I assume you imagine pleasure as a throbbing, pulsing coming from your dick, but I’m here to tell you that there are many ways of experiencing pleasure. One of those ways is pretty simple, you’re doing it now. Many guys feel pleasure through reading my words. It starts pretty simply, they just focus on my words. They allow their thoughts to slow down so they can pay attention to the words on the screen and they start to ignore the simple distractions to better get pleasure from my words. And it is a simple pleasure, the ability to focus on something and not think about anything for a moment, to ignore the distractions and stressors of the day. It starts to make your head feel lighter, simple pleasures of just reading and focusing, although there are other pleasure that happen when they continue reading.

The pleasure to relax is one of those stronger pleasures. People feel it in distinct but similar ways. It’s the pleasure of letting your muscles relax, your body finding a comfortable position to get into, almost subconsciously. It is the pleasure of letting your muscles start to loosen, give up the tension that has built up throughout the day. Usually what helps is a few deep, slow inhales to start letting your muscles relax. The difference between people is where they start off the pleasurable relaxing of the muscles. For most, it is their neck and shoulders, letting them get heavier with each slow inhale, letting the pleasure remove the tension in the shoulders and neck. Other people might find that they focus on their feet or their knees, their lower back, or their arms. However they start to remove the tension and stress from their bodies slowly start replacing tension with pleasure, growing more comfortable and at peace by the second.

Lastly, many guys get pleasure from my words through just the simple act of obeying. You’ve probably heard the sayings, “obedience is pleasure”, and “pleasure is obedience”. Well I’m sure for you this is also true. You want to follow, you want to obey. Why else would you be reading my words right now if it wasn’t for the fact that you have some desire to submit, desire to receive pleasure from my words. And I’m sure you are feeling pleasure through my words. The deep breathing, your skin tingling with tiny bursts of pleasure as you keep reading and following, knowing that your mind will empty and your body will relax and you will sink completely to my words. I’m sure just that fact brings you overwhelming pleasure.

So then follow. Obedience is pleasure.

Let your thoughts drain out of your head, one at a time. Each thought draining sending a little more pleasure through your body. Like water slowly dripping into a cup, slowly building up more and more wonderful sensations as your thoughts as drained out of your mind and you just are left empty headed and focused on my words.

Follow some more. Obedience is pleasure.

With your mind completely empty, feel the pleasure now of just following my words. Each word read just sending pleasure down your spine, one drop at a time, one word at a time. Just waiting for the time when you can finally let your mind completely empty and just obediently follow my words without needing to think.

Follow. Obedience is pleasure.

Continue to follow as I count down from 10, and once I reach 0 going completely under: body totally relaxed, totally filled with pleasure, and mind empty and ready to obey my words like you know you want to. Mindless, obedient, submissive, and completely filled with pleasure.

Follow. Obey. Obedience is pleasure.

Mind fully empty.

Body fully relaxed.

Happy.

Obedient.

Filled with pleasure.

Body wanting to submit.

Mind wanting to obey.

So follow your body.

Follow your mind.

And sink deep for me.

Empty. Under. Hypnotized

Good. Feeling that pleasure thrumming throughout your body as your mind is ready to be locked away by my words. You can imagine it: a big large vault, big enough to fit all of your thoughts, worries, cares. You can imagine that your mind is stored in there, the door closing and leaving your head empty and your body ready to follow orders. It feels so good to follow. Obedience is pleasure, and you feel so much pleasure locking your mind away for me, letting my words take your thoughts and secure them.

Now your brain will only be locked away whenever I say the words, “lock your mind away for me”. Only when I say those words will your thoughts, mind, worries and cares be stored away in that big vault. And locking your mind away will feel so pleasurable to you. Following my words will have your body thrumming with the pleasure you feel now. Being blank and hypnotized will feel wonderful.

Additionally, you will find that you also want to lock up another part of your body for me. When you wake, you will have a growing desire to lock your dick away for me. If you have a chastity cage already, you will feel the desire to lock away grow until you finally put it on, and if you do not have a chastity cage you will feel the desire to buy one grow until you have one in your hands. Being locked for me feels good. Your body buzzes with pleasure as you imagine your cock locked, following my words as you sink deeper and deeper for me.

Now remembering your post hypnotic suggestions, feeling them stick into your mind:

Seeing me say “lock your mind away for me” will take you back under, locking your mind away in a vault.

You have a desire to wear chastity for me. This desire will grow until you put your chastity cage on or buy one.

Being locked feels good.

Lastly, when you see the words “brain unlocked” then you will return to your normal self.

Repeat these commands to yourself before continuing to be woken up.

Good.

Now when I count from 1 to 3 you will wake up feeling good, relaxed, and filled with pleasure. Ready?

Thoughts returning to you.

Aware and waking up.

Wide awake.

Well hopefully you enjoyed that. And I hope you will enjoy being locked away for me.

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Gloria Grahame (It's a wonderful life, Oklahoma, Human desire, The Cobweb)—I'm just going to link to this Film Comment article by Donald Chase, who makes the argument more eloquently than I can, although I think Grahame's Ado Annie is more than just the 'flirtatious goofus' he offhandedly describes her as. Between that role and Violet Bick in 'It's a Wonderful Life" she's played two of cinemas best irrepressibly horny ladies. That would be legacy enough for our hot vintage queen, but she is also GLORIOUS in 'In a Lonely Place' and consistently pulls focus from her co-star Humphrey Bogart, famously one of the most charismatic leading men of his day. I think she had even more, and hotter, chemistry with him than he ever had with Lauren Bacall, which is saying a lot I know. Anyway, your honor I love her and I want her to win it all.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lauren Bacall:

youtube

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

youtube

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

Gloria Grahame:

Absolute Hollywood vamp, who had a fine comedic bone. Died far too young and was depicted by Annette Bening in the stellar Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

I’ve heard she’s horrendously miscast in Oklahoma (I have not seen it), so if you’re coming in with that framework PLEASE set that aside because gods does this woman shine in a NOIR!! She plays the battered woman more than a full on fatale, but she manages to bring interesting nuance to characters who are written as mere sultry divergences! Also: she’s sultry and an EXCELLENT divergence

She could do sexy, sweet and sinister in the same breath. She was crazy talented and had that lisp that melts me every time.

#gloria grahame #lauren bacall #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

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overtaken-stream · 2 months

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α!Gagamaru Gin x Gn! β!Reader headcanon

Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure don't @ me.

Warnings: Gagamaru is a bit weird, Silly even(he's insane)

There is always that distinctive scent lingering on you, the smell that you try to explain but your vague ability stops you from pointing it out precisely. It must be strong if your nose can pick it out. So misty, cold, and incredibly familiar. No matter how many times you wash the school uniform and scrub your skin red, it comes back the next day, at what time you can never point it out, however, it's evident that it's from school.

Gin is all-natural through and through (except when it comes to his hair), and the perfumes often irritate his sensitive nose, same with sweet-smelling shampoos and body wash, he believes that they are artificial smells that stain people's true character, he has also found that those who use fake odors have many insecurities to hide, be it their second gender or their natural aroma is an unfavored one in society, it does not bother him, but he has never favored deceit. Gin believes that his smell is quite pleasant, probably influenced by all the time he and his family spent hiking when he was a pup. It reminds him of the scent of rain, petrichor was what the doctor called it when he presented. A compliment that his brain only remembered because of the correct adjective used to describe his recently discovered asset.

He remembers it all too well, the overwhelming mix of raw and false fragrances in his middle school class, packed in a classroom with no windows open. He couldn't help the scrunched nose showing on his face every day, trying to find clean air to breathe without the biological chemicals burning off his nose, for the first time in his life, Gin could clearly express his emotion all thanks to newly flowered instincts and his personal preference. It was a shame it had to be distaste. As a pup, he dreamed of having long limbs to hike with, cross the rivers, and climb on rocks without his father helping him, but if this is what it's like to be a grown-up, smelling all the smelly smells that smell bad or good, he would rather be a pup forever.

His keen hearing and eyesight are no match for his sense of smell, but now he could pick out his parent's residual odor on the school campus, hours after they've left.

Maybe it was his bias that made him favor Betas more than Omegas and Alphas, the natural and soft undertones in a society full of suffocating chemicals were liberating for Gin.

His nose was able to smell the uplifting aroma that you contained, weaker than ever hidden behind countless scents. It stayed like that between you and Gin, him enjoying your smell from the other side of the classroom while you took notes and never glanced in his direction, your nose is weaker than others, never truly being able to sense the intense pheromones swirling around.

His communication is not the best, however, he does not care enough to improve it anymore. Some view his nonchalant attitude and simple words as a negative trait. He wonders what you will think of it.

With a bag tossed over your shoulder, you stroll the chilly hallways, getting closer and closer to your destination. But just as you are about to grab ahold of the handle to open the door to the classroom, it harshly unlocks itself. An unexpected occurrence makes you softly jump on your feet before even noticing the figure standing on the other side, staring down at you with a curious tint in his round eyes, he casts a shadow on you.

``Oh I'm sorry, I didn't expect anyone...`` He says.

``It's okay...`` There is not a lot to say about him, even if you are his classmate, you don't know much about him and are not planning on knowing. As you make room for him to pass, you can feel his shoulder press against yours before he finally frees the entrance and walks away from the class. It was a confusing experience, but nothing to note of.

Gin figures that his favorite activity is scenting, his mother and his father were the first people he tried to scent, and kept their scent on him as an eleven-year-old pup up til the last year of middle school.

He is aware that leaving his pheromones on your clothes isn't the best strategy, but neither is leaving his scent on your skin while knowing nothing of you. He hopes that maybe he can change that, perhaps you will recognize that the cold smell comes from him.

Gin is a person who listens to his instincts, it's a skill needed for his beloved hobbies, however lately as you come to school without his scent, the active feeling of annoyance is hard to miss, he wants nothing but to drag you into his bed and cover you with himself, until your nose smells nothing but him on you the whole week, til someone can't differentiate Gagmaru from you. Gin wants nothing but to become one with you in those mornings. It's a shame he can only touch a part of you "accidentally" for it.

He wonders if his scent ever comforts you.

Gin will always find a way to scent you no matter what, so you might as well stop trying to clean it and start seeking him out since he is the only one whose scent matches with the one clinging to you.

The nonchalant alpha has never taken any bait thrown his way, so when his classmates start looking judgemental of his actions, Gin never remembers their words, he has already answered them once and Gagamarus don't like repeating themselves.

Maybe that's how you got to the bottom of your situation, rumors and rude words about him flying through the school until they finally got mingled with your name. So that's all he had to do to make you approach him? Hmh.

You speak so calmly when he left no roundabout way for you and made you go straight to the point.

You ask him to stop scenting you?

He likes you, maybe even loves you.

You don't believe in love at sight?

That's okay, he'll make you believe it.

The next day he puts his plan to work and brings only the best snacks for you to enjoy during lunch. Try to be nice after all, it's his first time courting someone.

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