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your-nanas-house · 3 months

Text

Work, work... just work

◇ Pairing: "Sub"!Tommy Shelby X wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, humping, needy Tommy, nudity, work, tiredness and bit of angst, Tommy in " heat ", bit of degradation.

◇ Summary: Y/n finds her husband still in his office and wants to help him finish.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Also the writing lately.

It was late, Y/n could tell by the darkness that swallowed Arrow House, a soft cold brize enveloped the corridors of the house due to the lack of fireplaces.

She was wearing just her nightgown and one of Tommy's shirts, which rested on her bare shoulders... her feet were bare and cold now that she was out of bed because of the same identical reason as almost every day.

Her husband was missing.... and she preferred getting out of bed into the cold a hundred times more than staying alone in a cold bed— their bed.

Even though she was still half asleep and was welcoming the slaps of cold air in the hope of fully waking up... her feet were carrying her on their own towards the destination that they... and she knew all too well.

That place where the young woman could already hear the tapping of the typewriter, the strong smell of smoke and the burning one of whiskey... mixed with the unique scent of her husband.

She knew, she knew where her missing husband was... exactly where he had been for the past weeks— no, months. But she felt empty at that moment, he emptied her from all the irritation, anger and sadness she used to feel. Letting place to pure neutrality and tiredness, because she was simply so exhausted.

The door was open so she just needed to give it a soft push before leaning against it, her head trying to find a support as her eyes remained fixed on his stressed sitting form.

"You shouldn't be awake, love" his low grumbled tone made space, dominating the noises that had now become part of the background "Just... like I should" he added after not receiving any reply from her.

His fingers were still moving and his light eyes were still following the words he was writing, till he came to the end of the sentence... just then Thomas allowed his gaze to travel up and stop on his wife.

As soon as he took her whole in his body relaxed a bit, moving automatically backwards to rest against the back of his chair... his legs slowly parting as he rested his calloused hands on the chair chops. Never looking away from her.

It was quite dark there, there was just a dim light that illuminated the room almost softly... sensually. Letting the man appreciate the curves of his woman and the way her silky nightgown was resting on her soft skin, dangerously holding itself, as best as it could, onto her hard nipples... while his shirt was now hanging lose on her forearms, exposing to him completely her upper body in a teasing but delicious way.

Her hair was down and her expression empty, a soft pout was adorning her lips but there was no glimpse in her eyes.

"I'm almost done, love" Tommy informed her as he fought his inner urges to focus his mind back on his work... even if his body was getting the better of his tired mind. Reacting at every single things she did, like the slow steps that she took to get closer or the intense gaze she was giving him— even the mere movements of her fingers was making his pants tighter enough to make it uncomfortable for his crotch.

His eyes met hers as he took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out on the ashtray before exhaling the smoke in a slow, deliberate motion.

Then his body tensed softly as anticipation started to build inside of him, his tongue dared out to wet his bottom lip as Y/n moved in between his muscular legs.

Tommy could tell that she was tired as well, her body language was slower than usual but still alluring to him. He couldn't just stop thinking about the way the nightgown was teasing him in such an evil way... allowing him to peek but not look directly at the glory under it.

The fabric was soft under his abused skin as his hands remained busy massagging her hips, and his head rested tenderly against her lower stomach... placing light kisses slowly up to her cleavage.

A sweet silence surrounded them till Y/n moved her bare leg on his lap, making her husband inhale sharpy at the view and sudden feeling.

His grip tightened, and the young woman could feel every single muscle flex under her as his body leaned in even closer. His left hand traveled up her back to her neck. Causing her a feeling of goosebump all over before she pushed against him slightly, her hands moving inside his open shirt.

Her smaller body leaned down to brush tenderly her nose against his, her heart beating faster at the so craved closeness.

That's when Y/n noticed the way her husband's body was reacting at her, almost... animalisticly. The way he tilted his head to chase her lips, the heavy breathing and soft growls.

She sure could tell he’d been wanting this all day, and he had reached his breaking point.

His piercing light blue eyes kept sending shivers down her spine as the familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach became more intense during the little game of soft caresses of their lips.

Her hands, which were formerly massaging the back of Thomas' neck and his right shoulder, were now moving teasingly down his torso, slowly unbuttoning the rest of the buttons as they reached his firm thighs.

A soft loud peck and her grip became tighter, her nails digging in the soft freckled skin so that she could easily spread them open and turn around to sit between his legs.

"Fookin' hell, woman" the older man growled out at the feeling of her smaller body pressed against his front.

He knew that his wife was trying to do and it was working pretty well since he couldn't even stop her... continuing to just breath heavily as his hand gripped her wrist more for support rather than anything else.

Her ass was swaying softly, creating a loving friction against his rock-hard boner, making his heart beat in his throat as he loosed his ability to speak.

"Come on, honey. Just take what you want, hump your wife like the horny dog you've been lately" Y/n mocked, pressing harder even if she knew oh too well the kind of game she was playing at.

A dangerous... and difficult game that made her pussy soaked and her breath hitch in her throat.

It took a lot of focus to the young woman to make her hand stop tremble enough so she could start tapping on the typewriter, her eyes focused only on the work ahead instead of the hot feeling of her husband's breath on the back of her neck... which caused goosebump to form all over her body.

His rough hands were already busy, one still holding her forearm tightly as the other slithered around... resting flat and open on her lower stomach to come back up, taking a hold of the silky fabric with such need that it made her nightgown fall off her shoulders revealing her breasts at the cold air.

His boner was pressing against her lower back, grinding and rubbing against her like an animal as grunts and harsh breaths kept interrupting the silence.

"Yeah.. just like that, honey" Y/n cooed at Tommy, holding back a yelp as he pressed her back forward so that he could place his already free cock wherever he wanted. His lenght finding now friction against her bare back as his hips snapped upwards shamelessly.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he dropped his head back in such a sinful way, his action now leaded by his pure animal instinct and dark lust.

There wasn't an exchange of words, no dirty talk or promises like when they made love... no it was just pure animalistic sex. Which remained just a harsh humping since in the throes of the heat Tommy came shortly after his hands brushed her erect nipples... painting her back with his seed.

New taglist (let me know if I made any mistakes):

@hanawrites404 , @sleepycreativewriter, @r1errr, @ll4n4, @calmingmelody96, @neonpurplestars89-blog , @emilyrosier

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queenshelby · 14 days

Text

The Orphan (Part Two)

Pairing: Dark! Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Sub-Con, Pure Filth, Slow Burn Smut

The following night, around midnight again, Thomas Shelby came to your room once more and you were rather surprised to see him in the confides of your room again so soon.

"Mr Shelby," you said softly. You were on the bed, wrapped in a thin cotton sheet to try and hide your half naked body from his gaze. "I thought you were going to spend some time with one of the maids tonight. We only, -" you began to say, but Thomas cut you off.

"Sshh, Y/M. It's alright," he whispered gently, shutting the door behind him. His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, a strange mix of fear and uncomfortable nervousness. "It's okay to be nervous, Love," he told you, coming closer to the bed and sitting down next to you. "But I do require you to reach your full potential, and that will only happen with thorough training now, won't it?" Thomas' voice was soft yet firm, the glint in his eyes indicating that he was serious.

"Training?" you asked, feeling stupid for not understanding what he meant. "What do you mean by that, sir?" you wanted to know.

"Well, you clearly still have much to learn," Thomas explained, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "And, I'm going to teach you. I am going to help you develop your skills," he determined, causing you to shake your head nervously.

"But what is if I am not ready to do what you want me to do?" you asked, looking away from Thomas' intense gaze.

"You will be ready soon, don't worry," Thomas murmured, his hand tracing gently down your arm before standing up and unbuckling his belt. "I am a patient man Y/N, but I do have needs and you and the other girls are required to satisfy them," he said.

"But Mr Shelby, I-" you began to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced you.

"Ssh, Sweetheart," he said soothingly. "It's okay. I promise I'll be gentle," he promised as he pushed down his trousers, revealing his hardening length.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from him. You were still a virgin in every sense, and the thought of what was about to happen made you feel both scared and sick.

"Now come and sit on the edge of the bed, Love," Thomas instructed, his voice still gentle but commanding.

You hesitated for a moment but did as he asked, scooting to the edge of the bed, now being on eye level with his length as he stroked it.

The soft, dim lighting illuminated the dark, almost black hair of his pubic area. It was neatly trimmed and contrasted starkly with the pale skin all around it. You couldn't help but feel intimidated by the sheer size of it and diverted your gaze.

"No, look at me, Love ," Thomas said sternly as he lifted your chin with his other hand, his gaze flickered down to your mouth before looking into your eyes.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip. "Now open your mouth, and stick your tongue out just a little," he instructed.

"No please, Mr Shelby. I'm scared," you whispered, shaking your head as you felt a tear trickling down your cheek.

"It's alright, Love. There is no need to be scared, eh," Thomas replied, maintaining his soothing voice as he pushed his erect member against your lips, inviting you to open up and take him in.

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip the tip of his member in a little only.

You couldn't help but feel humiliated, but you knew better than to protest. You gagged slightly as you tasted the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. He groaned softly, his grip on your chin tightening as he tried to push himself deeper inside your mouth.

"Relax, Love. Let me in," he whispered, his voice strained with pleasure.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the gag reflex that was building up within you.

The taste of his arousal was becoming more prominent, and you felt the roughness of his shaft brushing against the inside of your cheeks.

"Good girl," Thomas whispered, his voice filled with pleasure as he continued to slowly slide his member in and out of your mouth. He was taking it slow, likely to not overwhelm you. "Keep your mouth open for me. That's it," Thomas instructed, his fingers running through your hair as you struggled to please him. You felt a mix of emotions - such as fear and embarrassment.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, scrutinizing every move you made. His piercing blue eyes were enough to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

" There you go, Love," Thomas murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "Take it deeper".

You took a deep breath and allowed him to sink deeper into your mouth. You could feel the slight sting as your lips stretched to accommodate him. The room was now filled with the sound of shallow breaths and hushed moans.

"That's it", Thomas groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pushed in deep, causing you to gag. "You are such a good girl , Y/N", he whispered, pulling back for a moment before pushing in again.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the smell of him so overwhelming, a mix of musk and sweat. You tried to relax your throat as he started to thrust faster, deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

Saliva started to dribble out of your mouth, streaming down your chin, dripping down on your chest.

Thomas released a low growl, gripping your head with both hands as he began to thrust more vigorously, his movements becoming more erratic.

You did your best to hold still, fearing what might happen if you were to protest.

Your eyes watered as you tried your best to accommodate him, the room spinning around you as you struggled to breathe. Thomas didn't seem to notice, focused solely on the pleasure he was receiving.

The feeling of his member hitting the back of your throat was almost unbearable, and you could feel your eyes watering up as you tried your best to hold still. Your jaw began to ache, and you hoped that this would be over soon.

Just when you thought that he had reached his peak, Thomas suddenly pulled out, leaving you gasping for air.

You coughed and spluttered, your throat feeling raw. A string of saliva still connected your lips to his member before breaking, making you blush uncontrollably.

Thomas looked at you with half-lidded eyes, a satisfied smirk on his face as he gently stroked his shaft, watching the strand of saliva drip down to his fingers.

His gaze softened at the sight of your watery eyes and flushed cheeks. He leaned down to give you a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"Open your mouth nice and wide now so that I can finish off, eh ," Thomas demanded, his voice gentle but filled with urgency.

Obediently, you did as you were told and opened your mouth, tilting your head back so that he could see you.

He pushed back in, thrusting a few times before tensing up, a low growl escaping from his throat as he came, spurting hot semen onto your tongue, making you gag.

You choked, wanting to spit out the sticky substance, but he grabbed your chin and made you tilt your head back.

"No, Love," he said, his voice strained as he looked down at you. "Swallow."

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes widening in disgust at the taste of his semen. But Thomas's gaze was stern, and you dared not disobey him.

You closed your eyes and swallowed, feeling the wetness trickle down your throat.

"Good girl," he murmured, before pulling away and standing up straight. He tucked himself back into his trousers, before turning to leave the room.

"Oh, and Y/N?" he said while your mouth was still agape, and the aftertaste of Thomas's release lingered on your tongue. "Tomorrow night, I will show you how to go all the fucking way, eh?" Thomas grinned, winking at you before exiting the room. The door creaked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the dim chamber, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

ags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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heizouz · 10 months

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you write sub! genshin men so well…

no one ever gives any love to thoma and i feel like i need it ☹️

nsfw sub!thoma + gn!reader, puppy sub thoma

hihi!!! tysm omg aww <33 im glad u like my writing :'')) 💔 this didn't turn out exactly as i wanted but ah well! i ADORE sub thoma it's so sad he doesn't get enough love.... :'( n e way i hope this is ok!! <3

thoma is an obedient sub.

he puts your needs first, making sure you're served properly, taking his time to pleasure you just how he knows you like it.

he's a housekeeper, it's his job to be obedient.

so that's why, when you shove him into a random closet in the kamisato estate, one hand covering his mouth and your other working along his cock, he just takes it.

thoma's whimpers are quiet and soft behind your hand, but a loud whine bleeds past your fingers and you force back a quiet giggle. thoma's eyebrows scrunch as you run your thumb over the head of his cock, your hand pressing harder over his mouth.

"quiet, darling." you hush, tilting your head a little when thoma's eyes sparkle with need, a silent beg.

his blonde hair is messy, framing his eyes—lidded and gleaming—and sweat beads at his forehead from your close proximity due to the small space you were occupying. thoma's hands hesitate in the air, debating whether to touch you or not and you nod, giving him permission.

his shaky hand drops to hold your wrist, attempting to slow your movements on his cock because it's "too much" he whines, muffled by your hand. although his attempt, his hold is weak and he lets his head fall back against the wall, eyes shutting when you gently squeeze him.

you smirk. "'s too much for you?" thoma can hear the mocking lilt in the tone of your voice and he whimpers, shaking his head 'yes'.

"oh," you coo, pouting at his writhing body, his cock dripping onto your fingers, "but you can take it like a good boy, can't you?"

the mention of being good makes his heart leap and his eyes snap open—determined. he nods pliantly.

a choked moan slips past his lips at the way you tease his slit gently with your thumb, legs almost buckling and eyes practically rolling back. thoma presses himself hard against the wall behind him to keep himself up and your breath hitches because he's so pretty.

you could have him like this all day; whining, shaking but oh so obedient under just your hands.

thoma cries out, fucking his cock into your tight fist when you squeeze him again. you can feel how wet he is; can hear it, and the noises leave thoma somewhat embarrassed as even in the low light of the room you can see the red flush chasing up his neck.

still, you click your tongue a little at how loud he's being.

you don't even have to say anything when you remove your hand from his mouth, as his lips part obediently and you slip two of your fingers past them to shut him up.

"that's it." you part your lips in a small gasp at the way thoma stares at you so innocently, lips closed around your fingers and hips bucking into your hand.

"being such a good boy for me, aren't you thoma?" the blonde nods, eyes wide and glittery at the praise. his thighs shake, chest heaving and you can feel his quick pants as he breathes quickly through his nose.

he's close.

thoma just takes it when you press further into his mouth, ripping a small choke from him when you slowly fuck his mouth with your fingers. he's almost drooling—whimpering and whining stupidly around the digits as thrust your fingers past his lips at the same time as you stroke his cock.

after a few seconds, the blonde arches slightly off the wall, gasping sharply. you just watch, hand stilling on his cock and he makes a mess between the two of you. pretty baby has tears in his half lidded eyes — eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, thrusting into your fist as he finishes.

thoma doesn't complain when you pull your fingers from his mouth, only to replace them with your dirtied ones. his mind is too dazed from his orgasm and how good you're being to him. he stares at you — teasing, but searching for praise — as he licks his cum off your fingers, taking them into his mouth like a good boy. you breathe out shakily, eyes not moving from his face and he practically lathers in the dark look in your eyes.

thoma moans around your fingers when you shift your body closer to him, pressing his sensitive cock between the two of you and your thigh spreads his legs open a little.

"dumb puppy." you whisper, eyeing the way his mouth drops open wider when you usher your fingers a little further against his tongue. his eyes glaze over at the words, head nodding submissively as if agreeing with you and you smile, cat-like.

humming, you press your lips to his ear, "think you can still keep quiet, puppy?" and your hand slips between your bodies to grasp thoma's still leaking cock again.

#count how many times i write abt hndjobs #sub thoma is my life #little dumb blonde puppy >:((#dom reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin #sub thoma #thoma #thoma x reader #thoma smut #requests #send asks #asks

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4reanaz · 1 year

Text

NSFW GENSHIN HEADCANONS

paring: ayato, thoma, zhongli, childe, diluc and kaeya x female reader genre: smut warnings: edgeing (ayato,childe) breeding (thoma,diluc) , being tied up (thoma) temperature play (kaeya), degradation ( kaeya, ayato, childe) blowjobs (ayato) that's all i think tell me if i missed anything

ayato:

this man is a big tease

definitely a dom and probably a sadist

also a brat tamer

he would apologize in the most unapologetic voice

i feel like he would mostly be a dom but sometimes when he has hard days he just wants you to take care of him

he loves edging you till you beg him to let you cum

after that he would make you cum over and cover on his cock <3

he mixes degradation and praise together

he would say something like "you're so eager to be ruined by me such a good girl for me"

he loves it when you give him blowjobs

if he’s frustrated he can just grab your hair and fuck your mouth until all his frustration is released

you all would mostly have a threesome with thoma

he likes to make you cry and then lick your tears thoma:

okay hear me out but I feel like he's a switch

he loves to pamper you but also loves to be under you

can either be a super whiny sub, or a gentle soft dom

he loves it when you overstim him, edge him then tell him how much of a good boy he is for you <3

he loves it so much when you praise him

it's like he could cum right on the spot

he’s very sensitive around his neck and where his ponytail is

he loves worshipping you with kisses, word, touches or anything tbh

his sex drive can be pretty unstable

One day he can be busy af and the other day he begging to fuck you somewhere

probably has a breeding kink

the Image of you full of his cum makes him hard sometimes he just can’t control himself and ends up stuffing you with his cum

he is very vocal, he tries his best to suppress his moan but fails at the end

he probably likes it when you tie him up his wrists and than just play with him

super skilled with his hands and tongue zhongli:

i feel like sex with him is usually gentle and vanilla because he doesn’t wanna hurt you

although if it’s him being needy then expect to have a long rough night ahead

okay but like imagine half!dragon zhongli

he would definitely breed you

dumping his seed into you over & over & over till ur too dumb enough to speak

he wouldn’t be able to control himself especially if he’s on heat

he’ll make you cry, scream, and probably beg for more cuz of how good he makes you feel

he mostly gets off by pleasuring you

this man so gets turned on when you call him by his archon name

zhongli so has a long ass dragon tongue

he can probably fuck you with that thing alone

he will let you go out with him with sex plugs or toys, and then observe your expression childe:

childe tends to dom because of his dominant and aggressive tendencies when he battles

but i can also see him being a switch

when he's a sub he would be into being edge or getting pegged

he would be into toys as he likes to experiment

even if they are expensive he can pay for them

If you're the dom in the relationship then he's a brat

childe loves to test his limits all the time and has a pretty good stamina

he wants you to break him and make him beg to cum

he's stubborn at first but just edging him can help him to be a sub

how if he's dom than

he calls you a lot of pet names (ex: love, sweetheart ect) but also degrading ones (ex: slut, whore ect)

He likes to let you cockwarm him when dealing paperwork

childe loves choking you

would fuck you over his desk and is probably down for semi-public fucks

childe adores teasing and being teased diluc:

this man is such a gentleman

always for consent before anything

he loves foreplay and takes his time taking care of you

he tries to be as gentle as he can with you but just heading ur moans make him so crazy

very vocal and praises you often

he probably has a breeding kink, he’ll say he doesn’t

diluc would never do it without your permission but if you do him permission

but boy if you give him permission then

he'll fill you up with his cum till your dumb

he also likes it when you tug/pull his hair

he loves it when you scream his name and beg

It justs turns him on more

leaves hickies everywhere ur neck, thigh chest etc kaeya:

he likes to tease you and mock you

probably would fuck you infornt of a mirror while whispering dirty things in ur ears

he definitely into doggy style too and will leave hickeys in places were it's hard to hide

loves overstimulation

it arouses him that seeing you in pain from the fact you simply can’t take what he’s giving

he wants to overwhelm you with pleasure to the point you can’t think of anybody but him

most definitely the king of dirty talk

if ur into it he might try to get you off with just his words

okay a hot take but he's a switch

he was no preference, if your dom then he wants you to punish him in some way

i can see him having a mommy/daddy/master kink

would be probably into pain, humiliation and degradation

definitely into temperature play

loves putting ice cubes in unexpected places just to see your reaction

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writersblockiskillingme · 7 months

Note

Can you please do a Damiano fell in love with his long time friend/band mate (reader) who is the backup singer (bc their voices complement each others perfectly) and writes a song about her and sings it to her on stage, confessing his love. (the other band mates know abt it).

I’m in my delusional era

Only Angel | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader (Måneskin bandmate)

Summary: You were in love with him for a very long time, but you didn't know that he loved you back. Until he decided to do something about it.

Warning/s: pet name (angel), just a little bit of good all angst, smut +18, degradation, teasing, prising, dom/sub, few curse words, mentions of alcohol and weed, cigarettes, mentions of one night stands, grammar and spelling mistakes, Google translated Italian (sorry, please tell me in the comments if I made any mistakes so I can fix them)

Author's note: This one's been a long time coming, but enjoy!

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

Damiano could still remember the first time he met her.

She was the first singer that Måneskin (Back then just Victoria and Thomas) recruited for the band. He could remember it as if it was yesterday.

His hands were sweating as hell as he walked through the hallway of a "made up", improved studio that belongs to the future, back-then-still-in-making, rock band Måneskin. He remembered how nervous he was, but that nervousness compared to the one he experienced as he walked into the studio was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a big deal at all.

As he reached his stop, he looked up and saw a guy with blonde hair messing with his guitar, and he saw a blonde haired girl standing next to him, watching him. They didn't notice him just yet.

Damiano turned his head away from them and decided to focus his gaze on a girl sitting in a chair with a pen and journal in her hands, ashtray sitting on the armrest of the chair. She was lightly gripping the pen as she wrote and crossed and scrambled the words on a piece of paper in the journal. Her (h/l) (h/c) covered her eyes slightly. He could clearly see her red lips moving, even tho she had a half finished cigarette in her mouth. She was probably mumbling the word of the, what was probably, a song she was writing.

She was mumbling so quietly, but somehow he could still hear her voice. It was beautiful, he felt like he was falling into a trans. He felt himself freezing like a deer in headlights when he saw her look up at him.

Her face steached into a smile, cigarette no longer lingering on her lips as she reached out and placed it on an ashtray. Her (e/c) shining like the sun, her hair no longer covering them from him. She stood up and started to walk up to him. That's the moment when Vic and Thomas noticed him, too.

He noticed the grace she was carrying herself with. It was as if she was floating. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"Ciao! Tu devi essere Damiano David." [Hi! You must be Damiano David.] She said and he felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs when he heard her angelic voice speak to him.

"SÌ. Quello... sono io." [Yes. That's me.] He stuttered for a bit and that shocked him to his core. He never stuttered before, it felt weird. He didn't like that.

"Sorprendente. Io sono (Y/N) e loro sono Thomas e Victoria." [Amazing. I'm (Y/N) and this is Thomas and Victoria.] She introduced herself, Thomas and Vic.

And so, after a few quick hellos were exchanged, they pulled him in front of the mic and they preformed one song with him and one where he had to sing alone. It turned out that (Y/N) and he sing together perfectly. Their voices simply sound so good together. However, since that day something followed Damiano. Something that he couldn't quite place for a little bit.

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Over the years Damiano and (Y/N) started to get closer and closer to each other.

At first it was innocent, truly. The two of them would talk with each other more than they would with Vic, Thomas or Ethan. Everyone soon noticed how close they were. They started to become very good friends. They had a lot of thing in common. They liked the same music, the same artists, everything! They somehow never ran out of topics to have a conversation about. It was amazing, really.

They would go out to get coffee, pizza, they went to bars and local parties together. They would come to each other's houses and just watch TV and get drunk or, sometimes even, high. They would drink some shitty wine that they would find in some shitty liquor store and would fall asleep on top of each other on the couch.

They would write and sing songs with each other. They liked each other's voices, but most of all, they liked how they sounded together. A match made in heaven, indeed.

However, over the years something changed. As they grew, the band did, too and so did their feelings for one another. Damiano watched everything she did whenever she was in his presence. He practically adored the ground she was walking on. It was amazing to experience. And to watch, too.

Vic was the first one to notice, of course. She would easily notice the longing glances that they would send each other while they thought that nobody was looking. She tried to talk to them about it. They would just brush it off.

"She is just my best friend, come on, Vic!"

"He's just a friend to me. Nothing more!"

Of course, Vic wasn't stupid, and neither were Thomas and Ethan. They soon figured what was up, too. The three musicians really tried everything in their power to get them to know what the other was feeling, but it felt like it was impossible to do that.

The problem was that Damiano and (Y/N) thought that the other didn't like them like that. And so from one problem, another one was born.

One night stands.

They both thought that if they see other people they could push their feelings away. However, when did that work out?

Damiano could still remember it. He walked down the hallway of the hotel that they were staying in because of their performance in New York. He watched her and some random guy practically eat each other's faces as she started to push him into her hotel room.

The last thing that he saw were the stains of red lipstick before he started doing it two.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it

Damiano had officially had enough. Watching her bringing guy after guy in her hotel room, him bringing girl after girl. It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't just stand aside as he watched and heard everything those guys did when it should be him doing it to his angel.

So one night he gathered his courage and knocked on her door so hard he almost got splinters in his knuckles from the wooden door. The moment she opened the door he spilled his feelings to her and so this is how they ended up there.

Damiano was quick to notice a bruise in the corner of her neck. Her pathetic attempt to cover it with her hair was not doing it. He felt anger fill his body to the brim. He knew that he had no reason to be angry, she wasn't his. Perhaps that was what angered him.

"You seem angry." (Y/N) was quick to point it out, her face forming a concerned look. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad." Damiano spat out, proving her point. "I just think that you can choose better people to share spit with, angel. That's all."

"Excuse me?!" (Y/N) couldn't help but to yell in his face in the middle of the hallway. "What the hell is wrong with you, Damiano?"

"Was it worth it?" He asked her, his voice dangerously low. It send shivers down her spine.

"Is you hating me right now your new personality trait?"

She knew that that wasn't justified. She knew how bold of her that was. She knew that he didn't actually hate her, at least she hoped that he didn't. The truth was that she grew nervous under his gaze. His gaze, his tone, sudden realization of what he was talking about... it made her nervous as hell. She didn't know what to do.

"Was it worth it?" He kept his voice low and she knew that she couldn't avoid the topic any longer as much as she wanted to.

"I don't know what to say, Damiano."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, (Y/N)!" Damiano's voice rang in the hallway of the huge hotel in the middle of New York. He didn't give a flying fuck that it was night. That her "neighbors" were probably asleep. He didn't care about anything but his angel.

"Watcing you with so many guys who can't give you what I can... it draw me crazy." He finally confessed as he watched her in science of the hallway, frozen, confused. "You still don't get it, do you? It's because I love you."

"Now I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same way." Damiano told her as he pinned her against the door of her bedroom. Her breath getting stuck in her throat as she listened to his rough voice speak. "Just then I will leave you alone."

"I can't." She whispered, feeling so small compared to him right now.

"And why is that, angel."

"Because... I'm not even gonna lie, I'm just so fucking obsessed with you, you have no idea."

That's all he needed.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me

That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see

When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets

And there's nothing she can do about it

Hey, hey

His lips felt so familiar yet so unknown to her. His breathing had become more strained.

"Damn it all to hell, if I don't get to have you tonight then I'm never going to be able to have you."

"Who says it has to be that way." (Y/N) said as she gasped in pleasure as he started to suck the skin on her neck.

His muscles tensed with every thrust. She finally allowed herself to sink into the mattress, into her pillow. She finally allowed herself to have him and for him to have her. She felt his hands flattering against her spine as he drew her closer to him as if that was physically possible.

"Arch your back for me, angel."

She felt herself gasping in pleasure as she did what he asked her to do. It was hard for him to contain his own sounds, too, as he pumped his thick throbbing cock into her at a constant pace.

"Please..." she was getting overwhelmed with him continuously hitting the right spot deep inside of her.

He grabbed her ankles and lifted her ankles to place them around his waist. She was practically screaming as he continued to split her wet pussy at rapid speed. She continued to shudder as he sped up his pace.

"Bet you they don't make you sound like that, do they, angel?"

"Ah- I-"

"Do they!?"

"NOO!" She barely gasped. "They don't... only you can do- ahh- this to mee!"

She openly moaned, screaming as Damiano's cock started swelling and stretching her tight pussy even more then before. And as her orgasm hit, she began to cry. He didn't care, he continued to thrust repeatedly, no signs of stopping or at least slowing down.

"I want you to remember everything fucking seconds of this."

She was overstimulated, but the tears of pleasure continued to flow.

He suddenly pulled out, erotic sound of cum mixed together filled the deafening silence in her room. He's fiery kisses started to trail down to her soaked pussy. Soon he started to suck her clit, but he moved away when he felt your hands on his head. He removed his tongue as he repositioned himself near your ass.

"Mhh!" (Y/N) tried to gain her voice back so she could speak again. "Don't! Too much!"

"Shhh... my beautiful angel." He cooed to her. "I'm sure that you've got one more in you. Will you be a good little angel and take what I have to give you?" His words were mocking and teasing at the same time as she nodded her head as much as she could before she pushed herself further into her pillow.

"Good girl."

He slowly began to enter her again, he was lubricated by her dripping juices. The thrusts began to increase again as she screamed his name, shaking. However, soon she found herself moving to meet his rough, pleasurable thrusts, which synchronized.

She was drowning in pleasure, she couldn't comprehend what was happening anymore. However she knew one thing, every time that fat cock hit her cervix, she got closer and closer to her much needed release.

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

The stadium was big. The light were truly blinging (Y/N). The adrenaline was pumping through your veins. She was so happy, so full of euphoria even tho her throat felt so sore from all the singing and her muscles were hurting her.

On the other hand Damiano felt like he was going to faint. Yes, he was euphoric and happy, too. He was so happy and excited for the even bigger future of Måneskin, but he felt nervous.

For years he was in love with this girl. He always gave his best to express it as best as he possibly could. But nothing felt good enough. His angel deserved the world, even more so. He loved her so much the fraze "to the moon and back" simply couldn't cut it.

So he decided to express his love for her in a way that he did best. He wrote her a song. And so with a deep breath, and Victoria's pep talk before he went on the stage, he stepped forward.

"How are we feeling tonight, LA!?" Damiano shouted and his shout was followed by screaming and clapping of the fans.

"So tonight you are going to hear a song you have never heard before!! You excited!!??"

Damiano had to cover his ears a little because the screaming of the fans became a little bit too much. Still he found himself laughing with excitement. Like he always did. He looked a little to the side where (Y/N) was standing so he could take a little peak at her face. Confused was not a good enough word to explain the look on her face when she heard what Damiano had said and Vic, Thomas nor Ethan didn't say anything. He wrote a song? Without me? (Y/N) though to herself.

"This song I will sing alone." Damiano said and (Y/N) got even more confused.

"You see, I met this girl a long time ago and I felt like I loved her the moment I saw her. I wanted to express my love to her and to the entire world so I wrote this song for her." Damiano continued.

The crowd was already loosing their minds as Damiano stepped took the microphone form it's stand, but when Damiano said the next words and started singing all hell broke loose.

"This song is for you, (Y/N). My only angel."

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My-my-my only angel

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

#imagine #fic #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david imagine #damiano david #damiano maneskin #damiano david x fem!reader #maneskin smut #smut #harry styles #only angel #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio

309 notes · View notes

red-write-hand · 6 months

Text

Worship Him

pairing -> thomas shelby x f!oc (tony bentini)

warning -> mutual masterbation, mutual pining, smut that slowly morphs into fluff, mutual love/hate, dom/sub themes??, dirty talk, wet dreams

word count -> 4,530 (only took me two months-)

notes -> omg why did this take me two months?? also did NOT mean for the ending to be fluffy, the original ending was really weird and would have taken me much MUCH to actual write so enjoy fluff tommy

reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! this writer *points to the writer, curled up in a pile of blankets while watching the 2013 Gatsby* is a lil tired, be nice to them :]

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This shouldn’t be happening. She shouldn’t have these feelings. She shouldn’t be spending nights, still awake in her spacious plush bed, thinking about him. None of this should be happening. She should not be thinking of him when her fingers were trying to satiate her ever growing need for him. She was sitting at her desk but she couldn’t get work done. She was lying in bed but not sleeping. She was at Bentini charity galas but no one ever could keep her attention.

Her lip was bruised and tender from her teeth sinking into them while her fingers tried to emulate the euphoria she so desperately needed. She was ashamed of herself. She was embarrassed by what she had to do. How she had to take care of herself. She didn’t want to be thinking about his pale blue eyes that seemed to know every one of her little secrets. She didn’t want to be thinking about his jaw and the way he would fix it in one place if he got antagonized. She didn’t want to be fantasizing about the way he gently played with his cigarettes. The way that he would care for the cigarette. It took all of her willpower to not swipe it out of his pale lips and take a drag herself. She wished she could study him, just keep him in one position to examine every inch of his gorgeous body. Or at least, what she thought was a gorgeous body. She really couldn’t tell half the time, he wore so many layers. She clutched at the sheets thinking about lovingly tugging off his layers, one by one. Ever so lovingly, ever so teasingly. She wanted to worship him, she wanted him to worship her. Her indecisiveness was killing her slowly from the inside out.

She felt her head loll back onto the soft pillow while she felt her slender digits go deeper. She thought about his arms, the way he would roll up his sleeves when he needed to work. She thought about that stare that he gave her, the one that made her want to apologize for something she hadn’t even done. Not even apologize, more like drop to her knees and confess her sins. She knew her thoughts were running away but then again, she could feel that pool of heat in her stomach when she thought about that. Worshiping him. Praising him. She imagined how he would hold her face and tell her how well she was loving him. She imagined that her fingers, now starting to pump faster and faster, were his fingers. She imagined that his voice was telling how pretty she looked with her flushed face and legs obediently open. Just for him. Only for him. She felt herself come closer to that glorious feeling she needed, that release she knew she would get by thinking about him, that final thought that would send her over the edge to the warm nothingness of ecstasy. She gingerly added another finger, seeing if she could get there faster. She was imagining him chiding her. She could hear his voice in her head.

“Where did all that attitude go, eh? So you want to be a good girl now that you know that there will be consequences? Let’s see how long you can last, princess.” She arched her back slightly to feel her fingers go even deeper. She needed him so badly. She felt a string of sweet noises fall from her plump lips. She wished he was here, with a hand on her hip, holding her in place while she thrashed against his fingers. She could only imagine him relentlessly going deeper and deeper, drawing the exact noises that he would expect from all those women who came to the Garrison and chatted up his brothers. Those women who wore tight dresses with low cut bodices. Those women that always had a smile on their face even when being hit on by drunk Peaky Blinders.

She was definitely not one of those women. She was a dark queen who ran an empire. A empress who had people’s lives in the palm of her hand. She would not be the type of woman to be in her bed thinking about a man that she publicly hated. She would not be the type to fall to her knees and worship him like the god that he thought he was. She would never— then again— the way he walked into the room, practically demanding authority. She would only ever keep this to herself but she would give anything to be the woman who he pulled into his lap and played with for hours upon hours until he saw fit to let her rest. She would give anything to just be in his lap, with him deep enough in her that she could feel it if she shifted ever so slightly, keeping him sane while he sold his mind off to the world. What she wouldn’t give to be the one that he held in his arms in the earliest hour of the morning until he would have to leave her again.

She wished she was his, that he was hers. She felt the pool of heat grow even more in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him, she needed him. She needed everything that he was. His figure, his mind, his soul. She hated him. She hated everything that he was but she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. She hated his cornflower blue eyes that picked apart her soul, piece by piece. She hated how gently he treated his cigarettes, she wanted him to gently graze his fingers down her body. She wanted him to rip her apart and kiss her back together. She wanted to be his plaything, his doll, his pretty wife who stayed home and cooked. She wanted to be equal, for him to praise her, to hold his face and make him beg for her. She was so close, so incredibly close, she wished he was truly there. That he would use his condescendingly sweet tone he used on her when they had fought over a contract. That tone that drove her up the wall and made her inner thighs wet. That tone that slapped you in the face and kissed your bruise away. She imagined being this close to the edge of the cliff and hearing his biting tone.

“Aww, is my pretty slut close to her release, eh? Maybe I should pull my fingers out and make you suck on them until they’re completely clean?” She needed him so badly. She needed that idea of him. She let out a sharp breath as her fingers were pulled out. Her eyes fluttered shut as she fantasized about him holding her jaw and hovering his fingers in front of her lips. She parted her lips slightly and her fingers entered her mouth. She imagined that her fingers were his. She swirled her tongue around her three fingers, trying to clean all of her slick off of them. She envisioned that he was stroking her hair with his free hand, with a knee between her thighs, with her hips trying to buck against him. She could imagine him holding her down as he thrust his fingers farther into her throat. She pushed her fingers like she imagined he would, with the same rhythm he would.

Once she was done, she knew she would feel ashamed. Not right now. Feeling embarrassed or ashamed was for later. That was for a later Tony with a more sound mind. She would pour over her feelings for him like a binding contract that didn’t make sense. She dreamed that he would drive into her hard if she kept squirming. If he was really here, thrusting hard into her, she would have a constant stream of noises coming out of her, only ceasing when a searing kiss came to her lips. She could only imagine a smirk playing at his lips while he played with her, bringing her to the edge over and over until she was dumb with pleasure and drunk on his love.

She imagined that while she rode out her ecstasy, he would tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She came back to reality just for a second to feel her fingers thrust faster and faster inside her. She knew it was slightly disgusting, she had gone into her own mind again and the hand that had been firmly clutching at the bedsheets for so long had gone autopilot. Now she had switched hands, her non-dominant hand was now inside her and her right hand was now gripping the duvet as hard as she could as she tried to relieve herself of the need for a man she was supposed to hate. Her back arched even more and her eyes squeezed shut. She wanted it to end. She wanted him to be hers. She wanted him. She needed him. She craved what he could give her. She knew that he may never give her an opportunity to be his. She wanted to worship him. She wanted to show him how much she loved him. She wanted to be his personal doll. His own plaything. Only his. Only—

She shot up from her sleeping position. She shuddered. How could she dream about that?! How could she dream about pleasuring herself to the thought of him? Why him?! She hated Thomas Shelby. She did hate him, right? She couldn’t stand the thought of him at all. She hated his eyes that were the color of the endless sky, the ones that she could imagine holding her own on the day of their wedding—No! She despised him! She did despise him, right? She smoothed down her hair and slid out of bed. She crumpled onto the ground and fixed her matching set of peach nightwear. It consisted of a pair of peach colored, satin short shorts and a peach bikini top.

She pulled herself into her tiled bathroom and splashed some lukewarm water at her face. She stared at her reflection in the wall length mirror. Her reflection stared back but there was something in her eyes, a want. A need. For something. For someone. Someone she knew all too well. She splashed more water on her face, some of it dribbled onto her chest. It almost felt like— No. She was not going to think about him. She was not going to think about the possibility of his hungry kisses dipping down into her sensitive chest. Her eyelids started to flutter closed which meant she was going to dream again. Dream again about a man she hated. Fantasize again about a man who she would never have. Fantasize again about the man who hated her as much as she hated him. Then again, in the back of her mind…

If this is how she felt about him, does he feel the same?

Thomas Shelby’s biggest problem right now was the tightness of the crotch of his work pants. He was filling out contracts for Shelby Company LMT which was usually just very boring and monotonous, but now? Thinking about her? He couldn’t stay still. He needed to do something about this. About her. About her taking up so much space in his head. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was everywhere now. He kept seeing that shade of red, that dark hair, those gray eyes, that baggy suit. He kept feeling her tantalizingly feather light hands on his shoulders, her breath late at night, her eyes boring into the back of his head. He could hear her teasing laugh, her mocking comments, the Gaelic obscenities she muttered under her breath. He hated everything about her. He hated how much he thought about her. He hated the way her body was just so infuriatingly perfect.

In those vulnerable moments, those moments where he just needed that release, he thought about her. Her perfect body in that tight, immaculately cut red dress. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out of him. She was the most powerful woman in all of Ireland, she always looked so sullen when she had to do deals with him. Like she hated him. Then again, last time he checked, he hated her too. He hated everything about her. He hated the way her suits hung off her just enough to keep her power but also to keep her body a mystery. He hated the way her gray eyes practically ran laps around him every time they had to talk with their eyes. He hated the way she smoked, all daintily, like she was afraid that her slender fingers would snap the cigarette clean in half. He hated the way she handled weapons, the way she flipped bats, the way she shot guns, the way she broke alcohol bottles. He hated that she gripped weapons like she knew what she was doing, but when it came to him, her touches were lighter than air. He wanted her to touch him like she did her bat. The way her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the bat so familiarly, like she had done it a million times. He was not about to go to the extremes that he wanted her to do that to him, but he did have those nights. Those dark nights of shame where he would relieve himself for hours simply thinking about her. Those covered nights where he could pace around Arrow House thinking about what to do about her. It was always her. Time and time again, it was always her. She just would not budge from his mind.

He slid his chair back and checked for anyone looking into his office. He cautiously unbuttoned his pants and slithered a hand while he thought about all the reasons he hated her. His head lolled backwards. He really did hate her.

He hated how a smirk would always be playing at her lips after she had riled him up. He hated the way her voice caught and hitched if she was caught off guard. He hated the way she could command an entire room by just sending a cold stare around the room. His hand got quicker, despite the very confined space that were his pants, his hand was doing him a lot of good. He tilted his head back and let out a soft groan. He needed his release soon. He needed her too much. He needed his rough hands on her curves, or at least what curves she would let him touch. His pants were slowly shifting off him from the friction. His groans morphed into a string of rushed Romani. All the things he would say to her if she was his.

As time passed and the more their eyes connected, the worse it got. The more times that Tony would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to sleep but meeting an immovable wall that could only be fixed with the man that she tells herself every day that she hates. It can only be fixed after being completely fucked through. Fucked dumb enough to do whatever he wanted. She felt her thighs squish together at the thought of that happening. The thought that one day she, the queen of the Irish drug world, would be being split apart, thrust after thrust, dirty Romani phrase after phrase. She hated that she did it but it was like her body worked on autopilot. She could only watch as her slender fingers lazily danced down to her slowly dampening core. With a soft sigh, one of her fingers started to work over her warm insides, trying to emulate a feeling she had never felt before. His fingers. The way he moved his fingers. Then, her mind moved from fingers to words to a mouth. The fantasy played in her of the man, the Shelby no less, above her, while she was obediently on her knees, gripping her hand with one broad hand. It was almost like she could hear him say, “You’ve acted like a fuckin’ brat for almost three months. Now let’s see you use those pretty lips wrapped ‘round my cock, then we’ll see if you’re really being a good girl.”

Her fingers started to go faster and faster. The idea of his hoarse Birmingham accent barking out orders for her to follow to the letter. The idea that she would be his good girl, his sweet obedient girl, nothing like she was in her work life. She imagined the nights she would spend with him, his arms wrapped around her, caging her from the outside world, for him and only him to touch, for only him to play with, for him to love. Love was a strong word to use about Thomas Shelby but it was what she had realized she wanted from him. It was his love. His love and his body and his mind, but most importantly his soul. His ever living gorgeous soul. She felt her body’s pent up energy and started to thrash against her own fingers, imaging they were his. She needed him. She needed him more than ever now.

The Shelby in question was now in his office in his sprawling manor. He had locked the doors after telling the maids to not call upon him unless it was an emergency. He found himself thinking of her, the dark angel that would love nothing more than to put a bullet between his eyes, under this very desk, big gray eyes pleading for him. He wished that he could just reach out and stroke her pale cheek. He wished that he could see her eyes well up with tears as she gagged herself on him. His head, almost on his own, lolled back, imagining how well she would take him. He thought about all the small sounds only he could pick up on, the hitches in her breath, the whimpers she made, the broken cries that came from her as he took her in the most animalistic sense. It was like a drug to him, thinking about her. Thinking about all the ways he would make her feel good. All the different sounds he could coax out of her. She was dismissive of him in their business lives but oh how he fantasized about throwing her onto his plush bed and bringing her ego down, seeing what she was like stripped down both physically and emotionally. He always did like to do business with people who had nothing to hide. His hand, without his mind even realizing it, had been slowly getting himself off. He knew tomorrow he would be disgusted with himself. She hated him and he hated her.

Then again, it wasn’t tomorrow and men like him did a lot of things during the deep hours of the nights that they were not proud of, why shouldn’t he do the same? His hand continued, faster this time. His eyelids fluttered close as the pleasure started to get too much. His pants had been so uncomfortable after she left. After he had gotten a nice view of the top of her cleavage. They were not too big or too small, just perfect enough for him. He had been catching glimpses of how her thighs stretched her pants even though she had specifically tailored her outfit to be two sizes too big. Still her thighs stretched the material when she sat in front of him. Thomas Shelby did not seem the type to want to pleasure a woman endlessly but oh when he saw her thick thighs, all he wanted to do is have her thighs squeeze the sides of his head while he used his silver tongue to bring her to the brink of pure bliss, his silver tongue that he honed to get money from anyone or get out any deadly situation, his silver tongue that had brought him success in politics, his silver tongue that could talk anyone out of doing anything. He would use it to make the girl that he now realized that he loved.

A battle was being waged in the Shelby man’s heart. On one hand, he only wanted her for physical gratification. To use her body and then use the experience against her. Then again, on the other hand, he wanted to wake up next to her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her middle and kiss down her neck just to hear the giggle he knew would bubble out of her mouth. Wanted to run his fingers through her hair after he had a nightmare to ground himself in reality, that she was right there. Wanted to see her run into his arms because she associated him with safety and love. He wondered offhandedly if she felt this way for him. Maybe they could build a life together.

Yes. Yes, in fact she did feel the same. It was early the next morning and Tony hadn’t slept at all that night. Couldn’t stop thinking about the man she now had accepted that she was infatuated with. As she got ready, the more she thought about the conversations she would have with him while they would be getting ready for their respective days. She imagined it would be a lot of fending off his traveling hands. Hands that she wished would hold her face as she kissed him. Hands that held cigarettes the way she wished would hold locks of her hair. She wished she could slot herself into his strong arms late at night. Wished that she could curl up in his lap as he worked, letting him kiss the top of her head and letting him love her. Wished that she could see his smile when he saw her.

On two different sides of town, two people found themselves infatuated with each other. Infatuated with the idea of pleasure, bliss, and love. They needed each other to the extent that it was almost like their hearts beat as one. She needed his words and he needed her touch. Their fire burned of love and hatred. White hot passion and infatuation alongside scorn, spite, and animosity. They would kiss while they stabbed each other in the back. They would make wedding vows while the world burned due to matches they held. There was no line between hatred and passion for either of them. It was one feeling. That burning need for action. For something to happen.

Tension. That is the word they were searching for. As Tony tried to dress herself the next morning, all she thought was him. Everything he had ever done in front of her. She wanted more, she needed more. She needed more of him. It was unraveling her by the second. She needed him to toss her around, to use her, to do anything. She would be his doll if that meant that he would touch her the way she needed. The way that every girl in Birmingham wanted him to touch her. She wanted to be tied to his bed posts, she wanted to be bent over his desk, she wanted him to order her around. That itch in the back of her mind that just kept telling her to do something about it but she knew that he hated her right back. Her vanity was big and she stared back at a girl who just wanted the man who could make her feel something. Her breath became even as she retreated into her thoughts.

This time, they were not dirty. They weren’t her need to be his good girl, she imagined his hands on her face, ever so gently. His thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Her thoughts were soft and sweet. It was a flash of lights and colors and sounds. A car starting. Laughter. Flowers. A full field of them. Tommy in a field of flowers. Tommy in a field of flowers with her. Tommy in a field of flowers with her on his chest. Dialogue. He was talking so sweetly to her. His hand was on her face, just the way she liked it. She was wearing a shirt that did not look like hers and a skirt that she definitely did not own. It was so…perfect. Serene and nothing like what her life was like. It was her ideal world. A world where he loved her back.

Her body felt weightless, like she had finally realized something. In fact, at that moment she had. It wasn't just tension she felt, it was love. It was idiotic love. It was silly, stupid love. It was the love that only she could hold for him, the kind of love that keeps candles alive. The kind of love that keeps adding wood to a well kept up crackling fire in a fireplace. It was love.

Nothing about Thomas was right. He hadn’t slept, only thinking about Tony. How well she would take his cock. How adorable she would look under him. What kinds of sweet sounds he could pull from her bruised lips. As he pulled on her vest his thoughts flitted over to the fleeting wish for her to be the one buttoning her vest. Oh how he wanted to see her eyes, tired from the early morning, helping him get ready while still wearing his shirt that he had given her to sleep in the night before. Oh how he wished to hear her chiding him for getting blood on his vest yesterday because she would not be the one to wash it this time, you idiotic man.

He smiled against his better judgment, he smiled because behind his eyes, in his dreams, she was there. She was there in a white satin dress with a golden veil standing at the altar in front of him. She was there, in an orange sundress, by the sea with his arm wrapped around her, kissing her temple. She was there, with her slender arms wrapped around his neck, telling him that he has been working far too long and if he did not come to bed this instant she would drag his ass by his lapels into bed and no, he wouldn’t be touching her. She would be there, leaning on the counter on a lazy Sunday morning, ready for him to set her on the counter and lean his head against her chest. He now realized what he was feeling. He had been under the impression that it was blind hate and nothing else but there was something under the surface. It was calm and content. It was what he was before the war. She somehow brought out the boy that he was before the war. The boy that wanted romance and someone to settle down with. He felt something in his chest. He chuckled. He smiled. Maybe she had started to have an effect on him. Then he realized what it was. It was pure and perfect love.

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

wow. that took awhile. i'll post ANOTHER fic today/tommorrow too :]

taglist: @birminghamshelbyboys @goosita @cillianthinker @hllywdwhre @hanawrites404 @no-1peakyfan @forgottenpeakywriter @nick-carried-away @cilldistilled @atomicradiogirl @aphroditeslover11 @thatwitchybitch420 @shelbybabysblog @no-fooking-fighting

#thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #oc: tony bentini #thomas shelby x f!oc #tommy shelby x f!oc

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sleepingdeath-bboys · 6 months

Text

praise kink hcs ; thomas thorne

requested by ; hannigross

pairing ; thomas thorne x gender neutral!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

note ; this is part one of a nine part request, and the rest of the baynton boys that i write for will get posts like this in the future

summary ; descriptions of what thomas would be like if he had a praise kink (somewhat short as i could only elaborate so much on the prompt given — sorry!)

Thomas Thorne is, if nothing else, a complete slut for praise — especially if it comes from you — and he’s willing to do pretty much anything and everything he can in order to earn it (be that something expected of him like composing some poetry in your honour, or spending hours buried between your thighs in order to make you see stars whilst your hands are buried in his hair)

Whenever you call him your ‘good boy’ (or even anything vaguely complimentary like ‘poetic’, ‘pretty’, ‘handsome’ and the like) his cheeks turn a lively shade of pink and he practically stumbles over himself as he makes sure that he’s heard you correctly

(‘you think so?’, ‘truly?’, ‘do you mean that?’)

The best way to leave him completely speechless is to gently brush his hair out of his eyes, caress the sides of his face, kiss his nose and call him your ‘good boy’ and then walk away as if nothing just happened — of course he’ll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, but for those first few minutes he’ll be left flustered, blushing and frozen in place as his mind struggles to catch up with what exactly just happened

Within the confines of the bedroom, there is always room to take advantage of your beloved’s praise kink to get him to do whatever you want him to do — but for the sake of brevity I’ll only list a few such examples

When you’re riding his cock, gently tug his hair until his throat is completely exposed to you and then start to kiss and nip at it — whispering about how he’s such a ‘good boy’, how ‘amazing’ he feels inside of you, and how much you ‘love’ his ‘pretty noises’ against the skin of his neck between kisses (and if you suckle on his pulse point, even after his death, you’ll be able to hear the softest little whimper spill from his lips)

When he’s laying between your legs pleasuring you with his mouth, stroking your thighs as they fall over his shoulders, brush his hair away from his face and call him ‘beautiful’ and ‘handsome’ as he licks/sucks you, and tell him exactly where to kiss, and lick, and suck — encouraging him by fluffing his hair and saying things like ‘good boy’, ‘keep going’, ‘just like that’, and so on (bonus points if you’re quite vocal and make plenty of noise for him because that only encourages Thomas to go further and make a complete mess of you — and, consequently, of him but he’s not one to care about getting some dust/cum on his face if it means that he’s made his love feel good)

When you have his length filling your mouth and his hands trembling as he tries his best not to squeeze your shoulders too hard, make sure to scratch at his thighs and lower stomach with your nails and keep looking up at him through your eyelashes — occasionally pull away to press a kiss to his hand or length and whisper about how much you love him (how he sounds, all he does for you, how he looks, and, of course, his dick) and tell him how good he’s being for you, and by the end of it he’ll be half-whimpering, half-sobbing your name over and over again like some sort of prayer until he gets dust/cum all over your face and chest

In short, combining small amounts of pain with praising Thomas for his actions and appearance are going to be the most effective way to get him into sub space in the bedroom — especially if you use the words ‘good boy’ often during your praise because he’s always yearning for your specific approval and that title, however foreign to the time period he grew up in, is something he almost seems to wear as a badge of honour when you’re together

He lives to please you, after all (even in death, however ironic the notion might be at that point), so being acknowledged for his efforts isn’t going to hurt

#sleepingdeath #18+ account #minors dni #not sfw death #minors don’t touch #thomas thorne smut #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts smut #bbc ghosts x reader #gender neutral reader #smut #smut hcs

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 4 months

Note

Daisy & Mavis?

Or maybe Sir Handel & Peter Sam?

Ooooh, Sir Handel and Peter Sam have a fascinating dynamic. However, I don't really have much to say that others haven't already said, and probably said better. To the degree that I'm tempted to talk about their Trauma Responses, I have another ask about Sir Handel & Skarloey, so I think I'll fold these thoughts into that post.

So, Daisy and Mavis — love 'em — only wish they got more screen time!

("Screen" time. Do they ever have a significant interaction in the television series? I really want to be told if they do.)

Actually they only have one page in RWS where they exchange a word. But it's such a good page. Posting it here for the uninitiated:

Look at this mess. Look at this absolutely perfect bitchfest. There are a total of zero brain cells in this conversation. Venting to your work bestie and and letting loose your inner mean girl. A classic RWS dynamic! It's just the diesel (& the female) version of the Thomas and Percy relationship: They make each other worse.

But, they need each other.

But, they make each other worse...!

Despite their lack of screentime following this, you cannot convince me that these two don't remain peas in a pod, just like 1 and 6 after 6 is transferred to the branch line.

I do think it's rather sad that Mavis is holed up in the quarry. :( There's a real bummer of a line when she appears in a later Christopher story...

"Besides, she sometimes finds it dull up at the Quarry with no one to talk to but trucks." I know it's realistic, but I want better for her. LET 👏 HER 👏 OUT 👏

Once smartphones became a thing, I like to imagine that they videocalled from the quarry to the carriage shed every night. (Annie, Clarabel, and Henrietta are very understanding about this when the call lasts half an hour. If ever the workers try to indulge Daisy and Mavis with a longer call, however, the coaches start murmuring...)

One great thing about this convo is that it's the first time I feel like I'm really, genuinely looking at lasting steam/diesel coexistence on Sodor's 'big railway.' Coz this is a target Awdry has been trying to hit for at least a dozen books now, yeah? Due mostly to his publishers' pressures, he's been trying to have beloved diesel characters while keeping his 1920-cosplay steam railway too, and this is where I think he finally hits the target. Daisy's first appearance was hamstrung because the turning point where she changes her haughty new-engine attitude and where the others accept her despite all the shit she's already pulled is off-screen, we're just told "they're friends now" and have to be all "right. sure." Probably because he got negative feedback on his Daisy hash, Awdry played it suuuuper safe with BoCo and Bear — less so Bear, but that's another post; for now I will just say that in contrast to Daisy they are presented as very clean-as-a-whistle, and their acceptance by the railway is made so much of that it doesn't feel natural, they both feel like one-offs. But then, ahhh. Now we've got Mavis, and Awdry has the bright idea to let her talk to Daisy, and BANG. Now we're here. This doesn't feel Informed, or starch-and-stiff, or tokenistic. You read this and you're like oh, yeah. Even the sleepiest branch line on this railway is now part dieselised. They're acting like characters! Everybody is acting like squabbling coworkers! It's like sinking at last into a warm relaxing soak. Ahhhhh. Here's the good stuff.

Because they don't need to be Representatives of dieselkind? They can just kinda suck for a moment, without being villains? When TVS subs out Daisy for Diesel, it automatically gives this conversation a sinister air. He's the devil on Mavis's shoulder. But in the original, there's nothing sinister here; it's homey. They're just venting to each other. Their behavior is kinda crappy, but also very normal and recognisable. New work besties fr. They are both three drinks in.

Daisy: He said what to you? Omg babe. I cannot believe that old garden shed said that to youuu.

Mavis: Right?????

Daisy: raising a glass Anything steam engines do, we diesels can do BETTER!

Mavis: hauling herself a bit unsteadily to her feet so that her gesticulation can be its most dramatic and sweeping You are RIGHT and you should SAY IT!

(Narrator: mildly ... Daisy was not right and, being probably the most specialised and least versatile engine then on her railway, she definitely should not have been saying it.)

(Above: The quintessential moment. Mavis & Daisy are commiserating/carping, and Annie & Clarabel are trying so hard to not hear their shit.)

Now, I've always had a question here...

Did Toby really say that only steam engines can shunt trucks?

The text indicates only that he was annoyed that she kept re-arranging things, they had a tiff, she rejected his input and left.

Then again, the text doesn't reveal that Percy calls Mavis's shunting "a ---- ------ ------ mess!", so, y'know. We get the minimum detail necessary in these stories. ;)

We never see Toby express any such sentiment about diesel engines. I'm inclined to think he never said this — and I suspect we're not supposed to believe he said this, only that Mavis is in stroppy teen mode and exaggerating and embellishing her grievances to the point where she's straight-up making shit up.

Still, I'm not sure. Usually in the RWS if a character is lying they are slyly or explicitly called out for it in the nearby text and this time the claim is just... sitting here.

Ultimately, I don't think he ever said that to her, but (considering how salty everyone on the Ffarquhar line can get: some have quicker fuses than others but they're all so provoke-able) I don't think Mavis just made this up completely. If she were making up stories from whole cloth, that would be... well, that would be 'Devious' Diesel behavior! I suspect, however, that Toby and Percy (comparing notes on her shunting) are at least thinking it, or have said it to each other, and Mavis has picked up on these vibes. All of which would be incredibly realistic.

Anyway, I bring this up because the answer does color my read of this conversation a little. If Mavis is completely making up attitudes that Toby never dreamed of having, and Daisy just eats it up and eggs her on, that makes this conversation somehow even 10x messier (and somehow I'm still rooting for their friendship). If this is a sentiment that is real or implied when Mavis or Daisy annoy the other Ffarquhar engines (and they can both be annoying, no question) then the bond between these two characters, with their very different personalities, just becomes even more 'understandable.'

Anyway, about those differences. Mainly, Daisy is ultimately very conventional. (This reminds me I have a nearly-finished essay about Daisy lying around somewhere. For now...) Mavis is the original, creative one, the mover-and-shaker. All Daisy's initial behaviors, as Hazel observed recently, are things we've seen from proud new engines before! She wants lots of attention, she boasts, she tries her damnedest to get out of work that she thinks is beneath her. What Mavis wants is to improve things, to have more responsibility, to get to stretch her wheels. Furthermore, Daisy by nature is keen to avoid work that's too heavy (she's a railcar with limited pulling power, so, you know, understandable); Mavis doesn't mind work — she just doesn't like being told how to do it, and she doesn't like being bored!

A point where they can be contrasted is in how they accept Toby's help and friendship at the end of their initial... "arcs." (All right, Daisy's "arc" is ended so clumsily that you can barely call it that, but you get me.) I'm not saying Mavis is devious or calculating, but for her Toby's offer of friendship is just as important as a pathway to her getting out of the quarry sometimes as it is for his forgiveness. It is her ticket out. For Daisy, Toby's offer of friendship was important because she wants friends, now she's making a friend yay!! — and I think that was pretty much it. Daisy just wants positive attention; that's what all her 'modern and right-up-to-date' stuff was about, but that failed to get her the positive attention she wanted and it turned out that being a team player did, so she had little trouble re-orienting herself. She resisted the pressure of everyone on the platform for her first train because she clung to the memory of her friend the fitter, but I don't think she's one to resist peer pressure in general, and as time passed and the Ffarquhar line residents became her peers, it was completely inevitable that she start to conform to their ways.

So (although, again, annoyingly — we aren't shown) I reckon that Daisy panicked after Percy's accident when she realized that she would be in trouble too (all right, someone probably had to point it out to her). And so for the first time she pitches in and does some hard work. Toby can't help but own "you did well to get all your half cleared, Daisy" and Daisy's entire system lights up because compliment, baby!!! That's all she ever wanted. She's Toby's man now (so to speak).

I can also easily imagine that, in trying to get adjusted to Mavis, Toby remembered how thing went last time. He must have tried from the first to tell himself, through slightly gritted teeth, "Just find something to compliment the new engine on, just anything. Helps build trust." But he was stymied twice over. 1) She keeps re-arranging the trucks in some crazy-ass unapproved way and he can't find ANYTHING nice to say! 2) It wouldn't have worked, anyway. Mavis wouldn't have been satisfied with just some friendly attention. Mavis wants to do. shit.

Mavis is bright — possibly has little common sense, but she's bright. I do wonder sometimes if her shunting arrangements are actually bad, or if they're just different and Toby and Percy can't adjust. (The text does own that due to the siding arrangements it's inefficient to put the trucks where Toby expects them. She probably does optimize things — from her point of view, anyhow.) Either way, though, here is an active and creative mind at work. Plus, her ploy to slo-o-owly expand her pathway down the line in "Toby's Tightrope" shows long-term planning, which is hardly something we've ever seen any vehicle do! So yeah, she's well above-average bright for an engine.

Hilariously, in Their Own Scene she is easily impressed by Daisy's lofty confidence (another classic RWS dynamic — it's giving Duncan staring amazed at James's boasting), but she's also super young, hasn't been Toby-fied yet, and in short I expect that as the years go by Mavis is likely to see Daisy as less of a role model and more of a crony/partner-in-crime. Daisy might instigate things sometimes — but she needs Mavis and Mavis's bright ideas before she really makes much headway! And I expect Mavis is often the instigator anyway. In her literary-device role of Second Coming of Thomas (Dieselised Flavour), she probably continues to want all sorts of things that engines aren't supposed to pine for (silly stick-in-the-muds!) Daisy is quite content to grumble but put up. Mavis will find a way to make stuff happen.

(Which is the only explanation we're going to get for how Mavis is at large on every quarry and some not-remotely-a-quarry sets on the island, come TVS!)

That was a light rap on the TVS there, but not a very hard knock; at least TVS insisted (in spite of all logic) on using her character for stuff. Christopher lets me down, personally, by finding so little for Mavis to do — and never having her and Daisy interact! I want more of this shit so badly.

However, in the Author's Note of Thomas Comes Home, Daisy apparently has a bee in her bonnet about fans who think the series has no female engines and is like 'me and Mavis tho!!!!!!' Which... I like seeing Daisy mention Mavis. That's all. It assures me that they’re still a duo (although I prefer Wilbert's interpretation that they bond over being The Two Diesels On This Line vs. Christopher's implication that their bond is being The Two Girls On This Line).

#i want them to have more adventures in making things 'better' (worse)#like the lucy and ethel of the ffarquhar maybe?#(i haven't actually seen i love lucy... this is just osmosis)#i would also be all right seeing them kiss #highly acceptable #just give me more daisy & mavis content. please.#d1+fqc #great ask!#thank you #chatter #ttte daisy #ttte mavis #ttte toby #wilbert awdry really said 'someone on the ffarquhar needs to civilize these headstrong young half-feral engines'#' ... and it ain't gonna be thomas lmfao'#i think he's WRONG to discount thomas and percy but i think it's very funny that his attitude is just 'they're toby's problem coz no one #else is qualified'#'thomas and percy are out there causing wrecks and playing dress up and being chaos gremlins themselves'#ttte analysis #ttte headcanon #also 'no one to talk to but the trucks' IS big 'i was desolate. all alone in the empty manor. me and a staff of eighteen servants.' energy #the SOLITUDE mwahaha #... but yeah i get it #get 👏 her 👏 out 👏

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wri0thesley · 2 years

Text

right before your eyes - ayato x reader x thoma (3k)

you are willing to pay any price for your lord’s . . . unusual tastes. thoma’s price, though, feels a little steeper.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. power imbalance (reader and thoma both work for ayato). sub reader and sub thoma, condescending mean dom ayato. thoma is getting cucked hard. fingering, masturbation, bondage, a little dirty talk, grinding against one’s shoe. coming in underwear (thoma). reader is referred to as ‘darling’, ‘songbird’, ‘birdie’, thoma is called ‘good boy’. reader is afab but no pronouns or gendered terms are used.

Thoma strains against his bonds, a soft noise escaping from his parted lips, his eyes going dark and wide and hungry - as Ayato steps away and leaves his handiwork fully visible. Your Master smiles at you both and takes an elegant seat on the bed beside you, his fingers curling over your leg and pulling it further onto his lap, hooking it over his own thigh, to ensure that Thoma has only the best view possible.

Thoma’s view, coincidentally, currently consists of your body, utterly bare. Your legs spread wide to reveal the slick space between them; wet, glistening, and entirely untouched by anyone. So far.

“My, Thoma,” Ayato almost purrs, his eyes narrowing as they flitter from you to his loyal retainer, lips curving into that wicked smile which always spells trouble. “You’re practically salivating.”

Ayato’s hand brushes over his own crotch; his cock is tenting the fabric already, the fine material pulled taut as he hums low in the back of his throat and lets his eyes go half-lidded. Thoma’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he watches.

Ayato’s other hand comes to land on the soft skin of your thigh; gloved fingers brushing over where you’re already sweat slicked and warm, torturously close to your dripping centre but not yet wishing to dirty the silken fabric.

“Darling,” Ayato says to you. The pet name drips with affection, but it’s the affection that one gives to a loyal dog and not to their lover - nevertheless, your body responds yet again. Your heart thumps against your chest. Your breath grows short. The world seems to knit itself hot and tight around your head, leaving you in a fuzzy, confused headspace. “Touch yourself for us.”

Thoma lets out another whine. His green eyes are hungry and desperate; heat seems to coalesce all around him as if he’s in a swirl of his own hot haze, almost visible. That gaze does not move from where you and Ayato sit for a moment, and you hear the tell-tale sound of him straining against the rope that keeps his hands bound behind the back of the chair.

“Thoma,” Ayato warns, but it is fond despite the warning. “Come now. Our sweet little darling’s going to put on a show for us, aren’t you, pretty bird? Have a little patience.”

It is perhaps remiss of Ayato to refer to you as ‘theirs’; inferring on some level that Ayato is willing to share you. Ayato is only willing to share in so much as letting Thoma watch; letting him occasionally brush fingers over bare skin or fasten mouth to your thighs or sometimes use nothing but his tongue to trace the veins of Ayato’s cock. Thoma never gets to come.

Thoma gets to watch. Gets to enjoy. Gets to have himself pushed to the desperate needy entreating of your shared Master to please, please, if neither of you are going to touch him please at least let him touch himself--

The last time Ayato had deigned to let Thoma use his mouth on you, the fair-haired, gentle-souled retainer had lapped and sucked and licked at you like a man starved, hips grinding helplessly into the sheets of his own bed until he’d made a soft noise of surprise and Ayato’s musical voice had cut through your fog of pleasure to exclaim in delight;

“Thoma! How shameful. Did you just make a mess of yourself?”

There will be no such repeat of that today; instead, Thoma has been tied to a chair with wrists behind him. He’s been stripped of his jacket and his trousers; the width of his chest and the corded muscle in his biceps from handling loads of washing and heavy buckets straining as he tries to be a good boy for the young Master. The underwear that he wears pulled tense; his cock leaking precome through the fabric. There is nothing so soft as Thoma’s own immaculately laundered sheets for him to make a mess of right now - just the air above him, shimmering with heat, as Thoma struggles and flushes and sweats and gasps.

“Darling?”

You realise that you have paused. So distracted by Thoma; the big green eyes and the swollen lips and the puffs of breath that escape him, the way his fair hair falls over his face in sweat-soaked strands. Ayato pinches your thigh with the barest hint of impatience.

“S-sorry, My Lord,” you say, and Ayato rewards you with a smile - angles his head to yours to brush his lips over the crown of your head.

“Quite alright, little songbird,” he says. “Now . . . let us hear that pretty song of yours, won’t you?”

You bite your lip as you manoeuvre your fingers between your legs - let your fingertips skim the outer lips of your sex, as you squirm at the sensation. Thoma’s green eyes are transfixed on the space there; the sight of you spread wide open like a blossoming flower, as wet pools on the sheet beneath you.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Ayato hums, gloved fingers brushing your thigh higher and higher. One arm goes around your waist to drag you closer to him, to curve up higher and squeeze the weight of your breast. A sigh of pleasure dies in your throat. “Thoma. Tell them.”

“You’re beautiful,” Thoma rasps out, his gaze heart-wrenchingly wanting.

“Mm,” Ayato chuckles. The hand slipping up your thigh comes to hold onto your own instead; as he guides your fingertips to circle your fluttering hole. “I think you want something inside of you.”

“Yes, My Lord,” you agree, looking at him through pleasure and heat clouded eyes. He’s terribly handsome when he’s concentrating; the elegant lines of his face, his cheekbones, his mouth always turned up at only the very corners. “I-- may I?”

“You may,” Ayato tells you, and he even urges you to press two inside of you; to curl them just so, so that your fingertips brush against the spongy spot inside of you and your muscles twitch in pleasure. A gasp catches in your throat. “Ah. Let’s not forget about the rest of you, hm?”

He pulls his hand away from yours now that he’s assisted you in slipping fingers inside of you, but the silken fingertip brushes your clit as he goes, sending a frisson of electricity right down your spine.

“Use your other hand,” he tells you - so you do. There’s a mountain of pillows behind you, so you do not quite fall, but you have to readjust your position a little - all it serves to do, though, is give Thoma a better view of the two fingers stuffed into your cunt and how your body has stretched to allow them.

You brush them over your clit, not yet giving it full attention - Ayato hums in pleasure once more, as if this is merely a garden party and he is being entertained by some four-piece band or other. Thoma’s presence fades in and out of your consciousness as you increase your speed and pressure and the world narrows to only the heat and pleasure that your fingers are providing; the part of your body where electricity sparkles and flares and makes the complicated knots inside of you unravel.

For a time, that’s all there is - but Thoma’s breath becomes hard to ignore.

He’s panting, desperate and wanting. He hasn’t been so much as touched, and yet he’s ruffled like someone who has been despoiled; hair out of place and lip bitten-swollen and cheeks all ruddy and pink.

You’re close. It’s not fair.

Ayato sighs.

“Don’t come,” Ayato warns you, as he stretches out one leg and hooks the tip of his shoe beneath Thoma’s chair, urging the retainer to use his unrestrained legs to shimmy it forward. “I’ll be very unhappy with you if you do.”

You make yourself slow down on the hand playing with your clit, despite the fact that your body is screaming for you to go faster and harder and let yourself tip over the delicious precipice of your orgasm. Ayato’s needs and wants and desires come first. Ayato gives you a warm smile before he turns his attention back to Thoma - who has indeed taken the hint and is much closer to Ayato than before.

This close, it’s clear to you how much of a mess this whole ordeal has left the housekeeper.

“Good boy,” Ayato praises, and Thoma visibly shudders. You feel yourself clench at the expression on Thoma’s handsome face, around the two fingers still inside of you - and Ayato laughs again.

“My poor little predictable staff members,” he says, leaning down to capture you in a kiss that is more a bite of your lower lip than anything else. You are too messy and far gone to do anything other than slackly attempt to kiss him back, and strings of shimmering gossamer drool stretch than break as he pulls away. “You both simply love being told you’re doing a good job.”

“A-anything for you, My Lord,” Thoma says, breathlessly - and Ayato smiles at him, delighted. You watch as one of Ayato’s expensive shoes edges up Thoma’s ankle - brushes his calf, to the inseam of his thigh, and then--

Thoma’s eyelashes flutter as Ayato presses the sole of his shoe against where his cock is straining in his underclothes. He makes a wet gurgle of pleasure that is nearly a sob.

He’s gone so, so long without stimulation - watched Ayato help you touch yourself, heard Ayato and you discuss how he would treat you if he were given permission . . . that even Ayato’s shoe is almost more pressure than he can handle.

“Shh,” Ayato says, with delight in his eyes. “Ah. You wanted to be touched, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Thoma says, and his hips blindly grind towards Ayato’s shoe despite the inherent humiliation of it all. “B-but--”

“Carry on touching yourself,” Ayato says to you. “Thoma. Watch them.”

The bite in Ayato’s voice is clear to hear - but so is the arousal that saturates every word, making them hang heavy in the air. Ayato is no longer rubbing at himself, but from the corner of your eye you can tell he’s just as hard as Thoma. He’s just . . . better at controlling himself.

Your thumb brushes your clit again and it almost pushes you over the edge. You breathe through the desire to come - Ayato has not said you may, and you know better than to do it without permission. The slick noises of your fingers sliding in and out of you are obscene, but no more obscene than Thoma’s low moans and pants as Ayato carries on exactly what he’s doing.

“Tell him how much you wish it were his cock,” Ayato says, as his shoe rhythmically rubs against the bulge in Thoma’s underwear. Before you can speak, though, Thoma breaks in - too desperate to carry on being polite and well-mannered.

“M-my Lord,” Thoma says, voice broken, tears beading in his eyes. “Please-- if you carry on-- I don’t know if I can--”

“You’re getting off on it.” Ayato says with amused derision seeping from every syllable. “Oh, Thoma. You’re really a pervert, aren’t you? All of this time looking at me and our little songbird, imagining them . . . How many times have you jerked off thinking about us sucking your cock, hm?”

“My Lord--”

“Th-Thoma,” your voice makes him start, reedy and needy as it is; a trembling, snappable string. “I wish . . . I wish it were y-you touching me. Your fingers.” Thoma’s fingers are warm where Ayato’s are so often cool; calloused, where Ayato’s are immaculately maintained. Your cheeks heat. “Your . . . cock inside of me--”

(You have seen Thoma’s cock, though you have not taken it the same way you have taken Ayato’s. Ayato’s is longer; slender, pretty and pale, with a slight upward curve that makes you cry out into the ceiling - but Thoma’s is thicker. He flushes more deeply, leaks more slick precome over the girth of his shaft. You desperately want to know what it would feel like if Thoma were permitted to sheath it inside of you).

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Ayato says, all saccharine sweet, but you can sense the way that his leg tenses; his foot grinding more sure and certain against Thoma’s cock. Thoma whimpers. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Thoma admits. “Archons, yes--”

“I’ll make sure you get a good view when I fuck them,” Ayato says, like he’s bestowing some grand honour upon Thoma. “Ah. . . perhaps I’ll make them cry out your name instead. Would you like that?”

Whimpers and groans and needy noises. Thoma is losing control of himself, that much is clear - you can hear a sizzling that you think might be his Vision flaring to life, threatening to singe at the ropes.

You’re close yourself. Your lips feel swollen from biting, your fingers all covered in your own slick as they slip and slide inside of you. You grind your thumb against the nub of your clit, feeling yourself hovering on the precipice.

And Ayato’s voice cuts through the almost-peak, soft and soothing and lilting as ever.

“Let me help, darling.”

A gloved hand over your own - a finger slipping inside of you, silken glove going sticky wet with your slick as it comes to rest between the two fingers that are still buried within your walls and you squirm in heated need. It’s almost too much; the stretch is unusual, almost painful - but his thumb pushes your own away and he uses his own hand to grind on your clit at the same time as he works his foot over Thoma’s crotch.

You come first.

It’s hardly a surprise; there have been fingers inside of you and on you for what seems like hours now, your body on full display, Ayato’s honey-soft words and Thoma’s hungry glances and desperate panting all serving to make you needier than anyone in the room - but still Ayato coos at you as you soak slick all over his fingers.

“Oh, songbird,” he’s saying, as you vocalise soft moans and whimpers into the frenzied air. “I said I would help you, not that you could come yet--”

Whatever he was going to say, though, is broken off by Thoma’s whining.

The pressure of Ayato’s shoe and the lack of sensation has finally gotten to him, too; his hips helplessly rutting up into the sole of Ayato’s expensive footwear, his thighs trembling, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he pants and whimpers. A wet patch spreads over his underwear as feral delight takes over Ayato’s gaze and he loses interest in you for a moment.

“Thoma,” Ayato says. “Oh, Thoma . . . how filthy of you. Look what a mess you’ve made of yourself -- ahh, is that some on my shoe, too? Soaking through?” Thoma is trembling as Ayato eases his pressure only a touch; still almost petting at Thoma’s poor overstimulated cock through the fabric of his underwear as the retainer whimpers and shifts and huffs. “Oh, dear. I ought to make you lick it off.”

“My Lord--” Thoma whimpers. “A-apologies . . . I didn’t mean--”

“Neither of you can listen to instructions,” Ayato sighs, shaking his head, though a smirk is playing around his lips. “Oh dearie me.”

“I-I’m sorry, My Lord,” you respond to his sigh of faux frustration. “I-- please let me make it up to you . . .”

“Darling thing,” Ayato pulls his fingers out of you - smiles at you with endearment written clear on his face. “Of course you will.”

He turns to Thoma; leans forward, elbows on knees, and places the gloved hand that was formerly buried inside of you against Thoma’s lips.

“Be a good boy and make it up to me,” Ayato says. “Before I fuck our pretty songbird, take these off with your teeth, and perhaps when I’m done with them . . . we’ll see about letting you come again.”

It is not a promise; with Ayato, it very rarely is. You doubt that it will come to more fruition than Ayato perhaps letting Thoma spill his second load over your face or your chest; his come splattering on your bare skin. But Thoma’s eyes are still hazy as he wraps his mouth around Ayato’s fingers, as he sucks on the wet fabric a few times and drinks in the lingering taste of your sex before he makes any attempt to take them off with his teeth as Ayato asked.

Because the truth is stark, clear and real.

Both of you would do anything - absolutely anything - for your young Master. And if Thoma’s humiliation and your obedience is the price to pay for his pleasure, it is a price that you are both willing to see through.

Ayato smiles at Thoma. Rubs his thumb across the other man’s cheek - and stands, bestowing a soft kiss upon Thoma’s heated brow.

“Good boy,” Ayato says. “Let me give you a reward. Let me see. Ah, I know.” His smile doesn’t dissipate. “I’ll let you choose; which position would you like to see me fuck our dear little birdie in?”

#writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #thoma x reader #thoma smut #ayato x reader x thoma #poly ship tag #genshin impact posting #cucking for ts #power imbalance

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jbaileyfansite · 6 months

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Interview with Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer from GQ Hype

Filled with cozy, Hemingwayesque signifiers of midcentury masculinity (think: taxidermy and artfully-tattered boxing gloves), the restaurant seemed perfect for a breezy, late-autumn hang in the West Village.

But there’s one problem: Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey have burgers on their minds. And while this place boasts a surplus of dead animals nailed to the wall, it somehow only serves snacks and salads in the afternoon. And as Bomer points out, Corner Bistro—a pub that, in his opinion, serves some of the best burgers in town—is just a six-minute walk away.

The British-born Bailey—who, in his black sweater, floppy beanie and overstuffed backpack, looks more like a backpacker who just rolled out of his hostel rather than one of the streaming era’s top heartthrobs—waxes rhapsodic about In-N-Out, the California burger institution, which he recently tried for the first time.

He asks the suave, Old Hollywood-handsome Bomer, who spends most of his time in L.A. with his husband and three teenage sons, where In-N-Out falls on his personal burger index. “Our boys are really good judges of burgers,” Bomer says, and for them, In-N-Out is up there—but so is the burger at Corner Bistro. And how can we send Bailey—the Viscount of Bridgerton himself—back to London without tasting New York’s best?

Our location, midway between Stonewall Inn and Julius, two of New York’s most historic gay bars, is apt. The project we’re here to talk about—the epic new Showtime series Fellow Travelers, in which the pair star—tips its hat to the legendary 1969 riots that happened in Stonewall, but goes even further, telling the story of gay liberation in the second half of the twentieth century.

Part epic love story, part political thriller, Fellow Travelers begins in 1950s Washington, D.C., with an illicit affair between the strapping Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Bomer), a State Department official savvy to the ways of power, and the earnest, energetic Timothy “Tim” Laughlin (Bailey), the kind of wide-eyed idealist who goes to D.C. wanting to change the world. When they first meet, Tim is a conservative Catholic boy; his passionate, intensely erotic affair with Hawk both liberates him and throws him off his path.

Through the decades-spanning run of their relationship, the series takes us from the Lavender Scare of the 1950s—when a McCarthy-era policy that institutionalized homophobia expelled many “sexual deviants” from government, resulting at one point in a suicide a day—to the AIDS crisis of the 1980s.

The series is based on the Thomas Mallon novel of the same name. But where Mallon’s book generally focuses on the 1950s and the explosive romance between Hawk and Tim, the series expands the Fellow Travelers universe to reach through the decades and cover the Vietnam War protests of the '60s and the White Night riots of 1979.

“It's been taught that LGBTQIA+ history begins at Stonewall,” says Jelani Alladin, the actor who plays queer Black journalist Marcus Hooks in the series. “It’s a kind of false narrative. Queer people have been around taking a stand for themselves since the beginning of time.”

It feels like a disservice to call a series so sexy and so compelling as educational. But Fellow Travelers does serve as an important history lesson for younger generations who may not fully understand the battles fought before their time. “It was a really dark period in American history that obviously we're not taught in school,” says executive producer Robbie Rogers, who prior to his work in film and TV was the soccer player who became the first openly gay man to compete in a North American professional sports league. “We're not taught LGBT history.”

When the first episode of the series came out in late October, a viral clip showcasing Bailey and Bomer in a particularly kinky sex scene had Gay Twitter shuddering with excitement. In the scene, Bailey’s Tim uses his power as a sub to persuade Bomer’s Hawk to take him to an important D.C. party. “I’m your boy, right?” he tells Hawk. “Your boy wants to go to the party.” In surely one of this year’s hottest scenes on film or TV, we see Bailey hungrily suck on Bomer’s toes and gamely attempt to put his foot in his mouth. Earlier in the series, Hawk gives Tim the name “Skippy” after thoroughly dominating him in bed, a gesture of affection as much as of ownership.

Sex is a powerful, world-shifting force in Fellow Travelers, but it’s also a Trojan horse. While the early episodes bristle with erotic energy, every exchange between Bomer and Bailey is about power as much as it is about sex. And the further you go into Travelers, the more you realize what’s really at stake when these two hit the sack.

“Even in the ‘50s, they had joy,” Travelers creator and writer Ron Nyswaner, the Oscar-nominated screenwriter of Philadelphia, says. “You might be struggling, but that doesn't mean every moment of your life you're a victim of oppression. Behind closed doors they had a life—it's just that at any moment, the police could come through those doors and ruin that life.”

That unapologetic approach to queer desire is still pretty revolutionary in a big-budget prestige series on a major network. Gone are the days when gay characters were allowed to exist onscreen as long as they adhered to respectability politics. In Fellow Travelers, the queer characters are allowed passionate, unapologetically freaky pleasures.

“There's no shame attached to that,” Bailey says. “And I do think Matt's character detonates something in Tim. It's a gift to meet someone [who does the] radical act of helping you feel less shame and understand that intimacy that can be explored in so many different ways.”

Religion is a big theme in Fellow Travelers. Hawk is bound by covenant to his wife; Tim struggles with Catholic guilt. And like many queer people, Bomer and Bailey themselves have both had to negotiate religion within their queer identities.

“It took me a long time to dismantle it and to question what I was being told,” Bailey says. “Religion is interesting because it’s the voice of the shame but also [a source of] relief. There was this person that I could speak to—and I definitely did have that full conversation with a higher power. But the contradiction is brutal. To really lean into that as a gay kid who's not born into a gay family, you see both sides of what religion can provide, which is scathing judgment—as I felt it looking back—but also a real space for catharsis and nourishment.”

Bomer says he has an individualized approach to religion: “It's something that I've found for myself over years and years of exploration. It's just highly personal that way.” Bomer is proud to have raised his kids in a truly intersectional environment. “They go to an Episcopal school, but they're in school with Muslim kids, with Jewish kids,” he says. “We gave them that experience and then let them find their own way from there.”

On the way to Corner Bistro, Bomer gives Bailey a capsule tour of gay West Village. “That’s an iconic lesbian bar,” he says, pointing out Cubbyhole on West 12th street. Later, he asks if we’ve ever been to Fire Island. “You can have any experience you want there,” Bomer tells me, when I confess my anxiety around Speedos. “It's not just one thing.”

These streets bring up certain memories for Bomer. He tells us about coming up as an actor in New York in the early 2000s, at one point living in “a renovated crackhouse in Brooklyn.” Later, he worked two jobs to afford a one-bedroom apartment he split with a fellow aspiring actor—none other than Lee Pace, the famous, and famously tall (6′ 5″, if you don’t know), actor and Internet Boyfriend who Bomer has known since high school. “I’ll tell you how long I've known Lee Pace,” he says. “I’ve known him since he was shorter than me, when he was 14 and I was 15.”

As gay men are wont to do, trust that the group veered off-topic to talk about vocally-prodigious divas. Bomer has just seen the Broadway production of David Byrne’s Here Lies Love, which tells the story of the rise and fall of Imelda Marcos, the wife of the Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. And when he finds out that I grew up in the Philippines, he tells me how much he loves Lea Salonga, the Tony-winning Filipino Broadway star who appears in the production.

We ask Bailey if he’s familiar with her. “Do I know Lea Salonga?” he asks. “She was Fantine!” he retorts, referring to her role in Les Misérables in Concert: The 25th Anniversary.

From there, we fall into a Filipino diva rabbit hole, talking about former Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger (currently appearing in a well-received West End production of Sunset Boulevard that Bomer tells Bailey they must catch together), Mutya Buena of the Sugababes (an iconic U.K. girl group that Bailey and I separately saw live recently), and Darren Criss (who Bomer directed on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story—technically a straight male, but one who earns diva status for his formidable vocals and the dance he did in a red speedo on Versace).

As we near the pub, a thirty-something woman walking hand in hand with her man does a hilariously convincing impression of the Distracted Boyfriend meme at the sight of Neal Caffrey and Anthony Bridgerton casually strolling through West 4th Street.

“Her neck!” Bailey says, audibly concerned.

In Corner Bistro, with sandwiches and coffees in hand (Bailey decides on a classic burger and a grilled chicken sandwich), we settle down in a cozy booth and talk about the points in their careers where Fellow Travelers found the actors, the hard-won representation Hollywood’s queer community has been fighting for for decades, and the LGBTQ+ talents of color they’d like to support on their own projects.

Bomer, of course, has been famous since the early 2010s, when he became a star on the series White Collar, and along with Neil Patrick Harris, proved that openly gay actors could become leading men. Since then, he’s conquered Broadway (The Boys in the Band), won a slew of awards (Golden Globe and Critic's Choice trophies for The Normal Heart) and become a producer and director.

In the past, Bomer has discussed the way doors closed on him even as he was being celebrated for being an out gay actor. When asked about that now, he says, “I choose just to never look back in anger about anything. Ultimately, my career is a lot richer because I decided to be open with who I am.”

“It’s a wave of progress that Matt's been surfing and is at the front of,” says Bailey. “And it's been a real honor to be able to get on my boogie board next to him.”

Before he became a global star mid-pandemic playing the grumpy, furry-chested Anthony Bridgerton on the Netflix juggernaut Bridgerton, Bailey was an award-winning actor in both the West End and British television. Huge fame didn’t find Bailey until his early 30s, so when it did, he had a clear idea of what he wanted to accomplish with his platform.

“I feel the responsibility immeasurably,” Bailey says. “I get it when people are saying you create a chair and bring people [to the table].” He talks about the connection between the civil rights movement and the queer liberation. “The Black queens are the ones who really started to fight,” he says. “It's amazing to feel politically activated. And if there's any project to do that, it's going to be Fellow Travelers. It will change the way I see myself in and the world I live in.”

The intersectionality makes the story Travelers is trying to tell even richer—most of all in Alladin’s scene-stealing portrayal of the conflicted Marcus Hooks, a pioneering Black journalist who pushes against segregation as he grapples with his own sexuality. “When I look at older men today, I'm like, You guys have endured so much,” Aladdin says. “From the Second World War all the way through to the AIDS crisis, it was nonstop life crisis after life crisis. To have been able to survive through all that, there needs to be a real, solid weight on the feet of [these characters].”

Part of the pleasure of watching Fellow Travelers is picking up on the cinematic references hidden in each scene. Hawk and Tim’s first interactions evoke the forbidden affair in David Lean’s 1945 classic Brief Encounter. When Hawk’s family settles in suburbia, the show evokes the Technicolor repression of the great Douglas Sirk melodramas. When Hawk and Tim run through the beaches of Fire Island in the ‘70s, that iconic image of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing on the beach in From Here to Eternity may flicker in your mind. And in some ways, the series plays like a gayer, hornier The Way We Were—an epic love story tossed on the tides of political change. (In this version, of course, the Barbra Streisand character is an eager foot-licking sub and Redford’s Hubbell Gardiner is a daddy with a pit fetish.) Fellow Travelers allows us to imagine an alternate timeline where queer love has always gotten as much screen time as cinema’s great heterosexual romances, giving other kinds of stories the chance at celluloid immortality too.

In the book, Hawk is described as being more handsome than Gregory Peck. But seeing Bomer in period-appropriate clothing, the Old Hollywood leading man I thought of was Montgomery Clift, the talented and ultimately tragic gay actor who starred in classics like Red River and A Place in the Sun. For a time in the mid 2010s, Bomer was attached to star in a Montgomery Clift biopic for HBO, to be directed by the great gay director Ira Sachs. “Ira is a genius,” Bomer says. “[But] I think that ship may have sailed.”

Still, when I press him about doing it in the future, he lights up. “You know, I’m [now] the same age Monty was when he passed away,” Bomer says. “I always thought it'd be really interesting to do a play about the last night of his life, when he's watching one of his old movies on TV. And he had this man who lived with him and took care of him for the last chapter of his life.There's an interesting play in there somewhere…. Maybe Liz Taylor swings by.”

What’s changed since the mid 2010s is that a lot of Hollywood’s current gatekeepers are queer people who were fighting from the bottom a decade ago. “It's the people, the gatekeepers who are now going, ‘We are going to make this [queer] story,’” Bailey says. “This narrative that gay people have to be closeted in order [for a project] to be commercial and in order for things to be interesting to people—it's been dismantled. But it's slow because it's not just straight people who think that—I think everyone believed that in the system of Hollywood.”

Nyswaner, who has been working in Hollywood since the early ‘80s, has seen that shift up close. “When I grew up in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, I never heard the word ‘homosexual’ spoken aloud,” he says. “There was no conversation that I ever had with anybody about homosexuality. It was not just bad, it was the unspeakable thing—that's how terrified people were of us.”

And while he agrees that, in some ways, it feels like the LGBTQ+ community is once again losing ground on some rights, Nyswaner refuses to accept that there hasn’t been change. “Sometimes I hear people say, ‘Well, we haven't gotten anywhere.’ And I'm here to say, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’ Because actually you can turn on the television and find gay characters.”

Fellow Travelers is the culmination of a dream for a number of the men involved in the series.

“When I met Ron, he was talking about how he thinks about this as his lifelong legacy project,” Bailey says. “And I just said to him, ‘Whoever ends up going on this journey with you, I think it'll be the same [for them] probably.’”

“In some ways, Fellow Travelers is a span of my life,” Ron Nyswaner says. “I was an infant in the McCarthy era. And then I came out of the closet in 1978 and just danced and did cocaine and had multiple sexual partners—we didn't know what was coming, which was the AIDS crisis.” Nyswaner was nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Oscar in 1993 for Philadelphia, the landmark drama about an AIDS patient who sues his employers for AIDS discrimination. In a way, the historical span of Fellow Travelers gives the battles fought in Philadelphia their context.

Rogers remembers being a closeted soccer player in the late 2000s, watching Tom Ford’s A Single Man and hoping one day to be able to find love and take control of his own narrative. And Bailey recalls, post-Bridgerton, realizing that he could suddenly write his own destiny and vowing to seek out “a sweeping gay love story.”

Bomer, meanwhile, says—laughing, but seemingly dead serious—that it’s his goal to play a queer character from every decade of the 20th century. “A queer Decalogue,” he says, referencing the Krzysztof Kieślowski classic.

Bomer’s next project might just help him do that. He’s currently producing a Steven Soderbergh film on Lawrence v. Texas, the case that overturned the sodomy laws in Texas in 2003 but started in the 90s.

There are many more stories to tell. And as our interview winds down, Bomer and Bailey start spitballing dream projects.

We talk about All of Us Strangers director Andrew Haigh, who’s revered for his portraits of gay intimacy. “Andrew Haigh has been a special filmmaker for years,” Bailey says. “I think [his film] Weekend informed actually how I approached the sex scenes in [Fellow Travelers].”

“I’d love to play Jessica Fletcher's queer grandson who moves back to Cabot Cove,” Bomer says, referencing Angela Lansbury’s iconic role in Murder, She Wrote. “He's inherited her house and he finds an old journal in her library, and it's a case she never saw and he takes up her mantle.”

And moments before the restaurant speakers suddenly start blaring George Michael’s “Freedom ’90,” Bailey comes in with a killer pitch: “I’m obsessed with the Sacred Band of Thebes, an army of 300 gay lovers in [ancient] Greece. They partnered in pairs, this gay army, and they overthrew a Spartan army… I want to do that as a comedy.”

“Oh hell yes!” Bomer says.

“Just get all the queer actors together,” Bailey says, laughing.

“Lee Pace, everyone,” Bomer says.

“Where would we film it?” Bailey asks.

“Mykonos?” Bomer suggests.

“Flaming Saddles, down the road,” Bailey counters with a chuckle, referring to a gay bar in midtown.

“Oil us up and let’s go!” Bomer says.

Source

#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #jelani alladin #ron nyswaner #interviews #interviews:2023 #GQ hype interview 2023 #NEW!

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miroslavcloset · 7 months

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Ok, hear me out

Joshua red card

Manu saving as if he didn't miss almost A YEAR of games

2 Darmstadt red cards

A whole lot of yellow cards

Tuchel getting a yellow

A nullified goal

Darmstadt goalie saving with his crotch

After possibly a half-time scolding by Tuchel we start scoring like madmen

Harry goal from the door of his house

Thomas sub in and instant goal

Neuller headpats <3

HAROLD HAT TRICK

8 GOALS

#this match is really something else #fc bayern #bayern lb

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honiidew · 2 years

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Lewd Imaginings

♡ Thoma wakes up horny and has to deal with his ever increasing sinful thoughts of you until he can’t take it ♡

CW. Solo masturbation [Thoma], Orgasm Denial, Reader is gender neutral [Thoma likes chests no matter what], Both sub and dub Thoma and Reader [Briefly mentioned], No description of Readers genitals, Mentioned oral [Thoma giving], Implied Exhibition

A/N: First smut and it’s also Thoma ToT I didn’t do that on purpose LOL This is more of a character centered drabble with the Reader just spurring Thoma on indirectly

Thoma is the very best at being a good boy and keeping his gaze respectful around you but. There are just some days he wakes up a little hot under the collar; gaze straying to a patch of skin being uncovered by a sudden movement you do. Emerald eyes on your face that suddenly drop to your chest so quickly you think you imagined it. Zoning out as he stares at your crotch, not realizing where he's staring until you move and he's flushing.

And Thoma can’t help it if he starts to imagine taking you right where you are, peeling off your underwear and having a taste of you that he didn’t even know he was craving. It has him at a half chub as he subtly readjusts himself, trying to calm himself down from the lewd images of you that keep invading his mind, almost like intrusive thoughts but ah. When he finds a sliver of time to himself, Thoma is sneakily hiding himself in a corner of the Estate.

He hurriedly pulls himself out of his pants and welcomes those thoughts that were nothing but pesky a second ago. And oh, when his hand grips his aching cock, it’s the fucking best, letting his thoughts run wild and carnal. Thoma imagines dozens of scenarios, having you on your back as he has his way with you, letting you ride him hard and fast, having you fuck him silly until you’re both spent but oh so satiated.

It all has him groaning and shuddering, hand pumping his length as he thumbs his tip, hurriedly spreading his precum to ease his fast pace. Just as he feels his orgasm approaching, he grips the base of his cock, shoving his other hand into his mouth as whine tears out of him. And as his orgasm dissipates, Thoma leans back against the wall, hand resuming a slow pace as he continues to savor his lewd imaginings.

#genshin smut #thoma smut #thoma x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #honii smut genshin #honii smut thoma

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queenshelby · 1 year

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The Trainee (Part Two)

Pairing: Dom!Thomas Shelby x Sub!Reader

Warning: Pure Filth, Smut, Explicit Content, Prostitution, Rough

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

After you had settled in to Arrow House and were shown around, that same evening before dinner was served, Thomas Shelby took you again, in all of his favourite positions.

With you on your knees, he roughly fucked you from behind and then you were on top half an hour later, getting your fill. He used you like a toy, in any way you liked and whilst you felt used, you knew that it was part of your job.

He was insatiable and could not get enough of being buried inside of you, to the hilt. You were completely at his mercy and it was like music to his ears when you would gasp and groan as he used his hands to make you cum as well.

He had a habit of pushing so painfully deeply inside you with every thrust, hitting your deepest spot and, by the time he was done with you, you were well and truly sore.

The fact that you were sore from taking his cock and having been stretched so much by his grith seemed to satisfy the primal part of him that just wanted to use you and make you take his cum and, every time he came inside of you, he wanted to watch as your you clenched your swollen pussy to expel his seed.

It was a sight Tommy loved seeing and, even after dinner, he could not get his hands off you when, after his maids had cleared the dining room table, he caressed your skin gently from behind.

His hands ran over your bare arms as he approached you from behind and, when he leaned closer against your small frame, you could feel his hardness press against your clothes buttocks.

While kissing your neck and eliciting a moan from you, Tommy guided you towards the dining room table and whispered ‘bend over’, with which request you did not want to comply at first.

‘Mr Shelby. No. The maids could come in’ you argued and the truth was, that you did not care about being seen but, rather, you were unsure about how you could take him again after being so sore from the last time he fucked you.

‘They may and, if they do, they can watch, eh’ Tommy groaned which is when you knew that he was determined to fuck you again and so you complied with his request and bent over.

The table, however, was just slightly too high for you to bend over against without going up on your tiptoes, so you were balancing on them in order to get yourself high enough.

When you finally got into a comfortable position, Tommy lifted up your satin dress and pulled down your panties, allowing you to step out of them swiftly.

‘Now spread your legs for me Love’ he then said before he lifted you up a bit further to get his cock into your tight pussy as you were a little shorter than him, which meant that your feet left the floor and you were completely under his control as he ploughed into you.

He quickly pushed his glistening cock into your pussy, ignoring your discomfort as his cock stretched you open again.

‘You are still nice and tight for me Love’ Tommy observed as he had been delighted to find out that, even after fucking you for hours that very same day, you were still a snug fit.

Now that he was back inside you, he set a languid pace of deliberate forceful thrusts, for which he would lift you up slightly every time he pulled out and then let you fall back onto his cock, getting himself impossibly deep inside you. He continued like this for a while, revelling in the feeling of being buried balls deep in your warm confides until, eventually, he slipped out slightly.

But then, Tommy rocketed into you again barely noticing your wince of pleasure as you moaned against his palm which, by now, had come up to your mouth to stifle your moans.

‘Fuck, your cunt feels good Love’ he then breathed, loving the feel of your clenched walls around him and, when you were filled to the hilt, he let out a roar of pleasure as you cried out just as his hand had trailed away from your face.

Pausing only a moment to enjoy the pure bliss of the way that it felt, he leaned over you and clamped his fingers over your mouth again as he roughly began to fuck you from behind.

You moaned into the palm of his hand as his cock slammed into you over and over again as his breathing grew laboured. You were sore, but pleasure had now taken over so you no longer cared about how red and swollen you would be after Tommy was done with you

Burying his face against the back of your neck, he slid his other hand to your front to grip one of your breasts in his hand, and massaged the soft skin before pinching your nipple. The action made your muffled cries of pleasure grow louder. The sounds were only an enhancement for him, and he moaned against your ear as he plowed into you.

‘Do you like having my cock inside of you like this?’ he asked in a pant.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you moaned as he began to ram into you hard. Then he paused, then swirled his hips in a small circle.

‘Good’ he groaned as a shudder rocked through him and he began to viciously pound between your legs once more, causing you to almost scream against his palm.

His lips parted against your neck as his body moved on top of you. He emphasized each thrust that he made with his hips by grunting softly while uttering words of encouragement into your ear.

‘Good Girl’ he panted. ‘Spread your legs wide and take all of my cock in to your sweet little cunt’ he groaned as he looked down between you.

When he saw his cock pushing between your folds, forcing its way in, he let out another low-pitched groan, and stilled with only the tip inside of you. Gazing down at it hypnotically, he slid in fast, then slowly pulled out until only the head was buried. Pushing forward slowly this time, he felt your hotly clutching around him, grasping at his shaft.

‘Oh my god…’ you moaned as he continued to thrust into you and you knew that you were close.

Lifting his head, and straightening his back he plunged into you hard, and looked down at you. Your back was arched slightly and you continued to moan loudly into his palm until, suddenly, you began to shiver.

‘That’s it, cum all around my cock Love’ Tommy groaned as you came hard and fast and he began twisting his hips as he went in and out of you.

After you came, he released your mouth and gripped onto the sides of your waist. Losing himself, he began thrusting into you relentlessly until, finally, he came as well with a loud groan.

Hot spurts of cum jetted from his body into yours, and as it flowed out of him, he stiffened and pressed himself as deep as he could get. His entire body shuddered.

When it ended, he was still. His fingers eased away from your hips and he pulled out, making some of his cum leak out of you almost immediately

‘You did well Love’ Tommy said as he pulled his cock out of you, the friction irritating your abused pussy as it was still overly sensitive from your orgasm.

‘And next time, I might fuck that sweet little ass of yours, eh’ he then said as his strong hand on your back stopped you from getting back on your feet.

‘You will fuck my ass?’ you queried with concern as Tommy started fondling your soft breasts with his other hand. He alternated between tweaking your nipples and cupping and squeezing your breasts, then using both hands to play with your beautiful chest which made you whimper as he stimulated your sensitive nubs.

‘Yes Love. I will put my cock in your ass for pleasure. This is something good whores allow their customers to do and I will show you how it is done to get you used to it, eh’ he then said before taking a final look at your well used pussy.

‘Doesn’t that hurt?’ you wondered before pulling up your panties, right over your cum soaked pussy.

‘Yes, it will hurt at first but, the more we do it, the easier it will get for you’ Tommy then said before sending you off to bed.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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sammy-lawrence-child · 1 year

Text

BATIM/BATDR ship headcannons????

-i am not doing every single god damn ship so i'm only doing ones that i actually like. Also the BATDR ones are purely what everyone else theorizes or what I think personally about what happens after-

Sammy x Norman:

- Sammy's defiantly a bottom ong

-Norman does most of the cleaning up after se-

-Their first kiss was purely accident, Sammy was facing a different way while Norman was coming over to ask him something. Sammy turned and BLAM they kissed

-Norman towers over Sammy.

-Whenever Sammy tries to tease Norman, he teases him back, making Sammy flustered.

-At first glance Sammy looks like the dom/teasing one and Norman the Sub/easily flustered one. In reality its the complete opposite.

-Neither of them actually confessed. Norman invited Sammy to lunch one day, they had a good time, went for a walk around NY, went to Normans house, kissed, fucked, then boom dating.

-(in machine) Sammy tried to convince Norman to pray to bendy once...it ending in a hour long chase, a little fucking, then Sammy getting killed

-(After BATDR) Norman didnt get his body back cause..idk...so Sammy just carries him on his shoulder or holds him since he can't walk anymore *o^o poor Norman*

Susie x Sammy:

-Susie hinted for the longest time about her liking him, Sammy just thought she was weird

-Their first date was in the recording booth while working after time, their first REAL date was at a nice little dinner.

-Susie once made Sammy a chocolate cake..just for Wally to eat it *not referencing to the game at all*

-Sammy's first kiss with Susie was the day after getting hammered..and still being a little drunk the next day...

-Susie normally wears flats, but when she wears heals she's taller than Sammy by half an inch

-(in machine) Susie once caught Sammy in her domain, so she went out of her way to hunt him down, flirt with him, get things all loving, then stabbed him in the chest, took his mask off, then left. *we love sammy abuse >v<*

-(After BATDR) After Susie got her memories back the first thing she did was kiss Sammy, stab him in the shoulder than go apologize to everyone (Henry, Buddy, 'Allison', ext.)

Henry x Linda:

-Highschool sweethearts ong

-Their first kiss was at night with the NY lights all around them..or underneath a tree getting ready for the fall weather.

-They waited till after marriage to have kids

-Henry proposed to her while on vacation to somewhere that wasnt at JDS or NY

-They had two kids, a boy and a girl *....no i am NOT getting that from a really good comic that you guys should defiantly go read...*

-(in machine) Henry would fiddle with his wedding ring whenever he was sad, nervous or thought about Linda

-(After BATDR) Audrey made an ink version of Linda so that Henry would have his love with him forever

Allison x Thomas:

-They first met after Allison almost face planted into the floor cause she slipped on ink

-Wally set up their first work date. Which was just moving table and chairs to the side then playing music on a record player. Not so romantic but Allison enjoyed it.

-Thomas is actually really quiet, unless it's just him and Allison

-They got married after they got fired from JDS

(Ink clones)

-Alison doesn't mind that Tom can't talk, they actually made up a system for them to talk to each other

(After BATDR)

-Allison and Tom had gotten the memory's of Alison Pedal and Thomas Connor after Audrey took control. So they decided to have their own mini wedding. Which Henry was the priest, Sammy composed music, Alice(Susie)the bridesmaid and Buddy the best man, and Dappers the ring barrier.

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l1tw1ck · 2 years

Text

Sweet Bod

Bottom!FTM!Thoma x Top!DILF! Reader

[Series: DILF] [Part Two] | [No AFAB language ver (AO3)]

Contains: Age Gap (19-Unspecified), 69 Position, Voice Kink, Oral Fixation, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Dom/Sub, Daddy Kink

Words: 1,402

──────────────────

Your new house was amazing, it was everything you wanted it to be and more. Your kid loved it too. The only problem was your unreasonably hot neighbor.

You felt bad for being attracted to such a young looking guy.

And it got even worse when you saw him in the backyard while on a walk. In a bikini. A sexy red bikini.

You damn near lost your mind in the middle of the street. He was just too fucking sexy. The cliché would be even better if he had a popsicle in his mouth.

"Oh, Mr. (Surname)!" Thoma waves. "You should come swim with me, Ayato and Ayaka are out!"

"Is that okay with them? Me being over?"

"Yeah, they said I can invite a friend!" He nods.

And he chose you of all people.

"Okay, I'll be back."

It's not like you were going to do anything to him, you're out in public for Archons sake. You just wanted to keep him company...

And admire his hot body in a two piece.

"Do you swim often?" You ask, relaxing into the lawn chair.

"Just whenever I feel like it and have a break." He sits down next to you.

"You must be busy all the time, you're a college student right?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be a sophomore." He nods. "I'm 19."

"Oh, you're much younger than I am."

"Really? How old are you?"

"Too old." You shake your head.

"You don't seem all that old but your age doesn't bother me."

"If you say so." You laugh. "I'm wondering, why did you invite me of all people? Don't you have a partner or something?"

"No, I've never been in a relationship before. I just think you're...interesting." Thoma shakes his head, clearly trying to show his availability and attraction to you.

"Really? You're so pretty I'm surprised your classmates aren't fighting to be in a relationship with you."

Thoma flushes red then turns away. "It's just, I kind of have a specific type."

"Yeah? What's your type?"

Thoma builds up the courage to speak. "Older men."

"Oh." You smirk. "So like me?"

He turns back to you, face just as red as before. "Ye- yeah.."

"I wasn't expecting that. Y'know, I've been feeling bad about being attracted to you...It's nice to know it's okay."

Thoma's eyes widen. Before he can speak, you get a notification from your phone.

"Sorry, I have to pick up my kid. They're at a friend's house." You stand up. "No time to change, guess they'll have to deal with my big ol dad bod."

Thoma laughs. "I like it..."

"Glad to know someone does. See you around baby." You ruffle his hair and go to pick your kid up. Leaving a flustered and horny Thoma all by himself.

──────────────────

For a while, you and Thoma hung out normally without doing anything sexual, although there was lot of flirting on your end. You noticed that he liked to listen to you more than he liked to speak, always looking at you with hooded eyes and failing to hide his lust for you.

You wanted to take your relationship slow, especially after finding out Thoma's a virgin. Thoma was always trying to jump you and you had to end it before it went too far. It'd leave you jerking off on your own later but for Thoma's sake, you should hold yourself back.

"When...when can we go all the way?" Thoma asks softly, snuggling against your chest while watching TV.

"I'm not sure. I want to make sure you're really ready and your readiness isn't only because of how horny you are."

Thoma sighs. "I know I can handle it.."

"I know you'll be able to, but not yet." You run your hand down his back and to his plump ass, groping it. "We can go a step further though."

"Please.." He nods.

You pick him up and turn him around, his lower half facing you. "Pull my pants off, you'll see why I'm so hesitant."

Thoma does as he's told. He looks at your length in surprise, and you're only half hard. He takes it in his hand and slowly jerks you off. Thoma watches wide eyed as it springs to life, standing proudly in all its glory.

"That...that won't fit.." Thoma says quietly. "I want it to.."

"I know you do, try and suck it." You rub Thoma's ass. "Don't try to take all of it, go slow."

Thoma wraps his lips around the head, doing his best not to scrape you with his teeth. He listens intently with red ears as you guide him on how to suck your dick.

When he gains a good rhythm, you pull his shorts down. You look at the dampness of his underwear in amusement. "Can I eat you out?"

Thoma reluctantly pulls away from your dick to nod before quickly going back to sucking it.

You pull his boxers down and shove your face inside his dripping cunt. Thoma moans as you devour him with clear expertise, it's almost too much pleasure for him to keep sucking you off. Almost.

Thoma starts to feel needy, needy for something bigger and thicker than your tongue inside him. As if you heard him, you push your fingers into his hole. They mimicked the thickness of your cock well, although not in length, but it was enough to satiate the need.

His mind turns fuzzy from being finger and tongue fucked by you, his movements halted from the pleasure. Neither of you mind, Thoma loves just having your dick inside his mouth and pleasing Thoma is enough for you.

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he turns into a moaning mess. Thoma pushes his hips further into your face as he gets close.

Your low growly moan is the last straw for Thoma and he squirts over your face and fingers. You suck up his fluids before pulling away, not wanting to overstimulate him.

Thoma takes a moment to recover and goes back to sucking you off, and since you're already close from just having his moans vibrate along your shaft it doesn't take long for you to release into Thoma's awaiting mouth.

He swallows everything he can, lightly sucking on your tip for more.

———

You didn't realize it at the time but you awakened something in Thoma that day.

When you two are lying down and watching a movie or you're sitting down and doing work, he'll ask to cockwarm you.

He'd keep your dick in his mouth and rest while you finish your work/the movie.

Other times he'd ask you to read something for him while he warms your dick, you never connected the dots but he loves hearing your voice.

When you were away for work or something else, you'd call Thoma and help each other get off.

The first time you called each other set off a domino effect. He ended up losing his virginity a day later.

"I miss you.." Thoma says, putting his headphones in so he can hear your voice properly. "So much, daddy."

"I feel the same way, pup. It's been tough not being able to see you, I'm glad you called." You sink into your hotel bed. "Thoma, how about you touch yourself for daddy right now, hm?"

Thoma's breath hitches. He responds with a soft yes.

You use your free hand to fish your dick out of your bath robe. "Go ahead, I'm doing it with you."

Thoma moves his fingers to his sensitive clit, rubbing it just like how you do it. He doesn't try hiding his moans since the siblings aren't home.

"Good boy..." You mumble, basking in his sounds. "Gods, I wish I was there."

He slips 3 fingers inside one by one and roughly fingering himself in an attempt to imitate how you do it. "Fuck- need yo- your fingers inside me daddy~"

"I wanna be inside you too, in both ways. I wanna fuck you so damn bad."

Thoma's cheeks burn a deep shade of red. "Oh gods, please~" Thoma's voice comes out as whispery. "I can't wait, please please- ah~" The thought of you finally being inside him sets him off and he orgasms, his body shaking as squirt gushes out of him.

"As soon as I come back, I'm coming to visit you."

#top male reader #male reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #thoma x male reader #thoma genshin #thoma smut #thoma x reader #wicks🕯works #genshin impact #bottom thoma #genshin thoma #🕯️thoma #🕯️Genshin

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