#in this setting I imagine him like slouching off the couch

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Toby: [Skips all the way through a movie]

Y/N: Toby, you can’t just skip to the happy ending.

Toby: I don’t have time for their problems.

[taelophone]

Fresh Linen૮ ․ ․ ྀིა₊⊹

Joost Klein x Reader! TWs: RPF, the softest romance ever!! I made Joost after lucky blue lol W/C: 3,604! A/N: Reader is implied to be something other than white, but its not major. + Some music I found that really matches the vibe methinks!! <3

When Joost first garnered fame, he could never imagine slowing down anytime soon. He was like a rolling boulder ; starting off slow and inexperienced with his rough, jagged edges. But now he’s been rolling for years, refining himself into a smooth stone down the hill.

He said all his life that he had a pretty good idea of things he liked and didn’t like. Kids, cats, feet, all of those icky things.

But here he was, slouched in an ivory arm chair as he brushed his daughter, Adessa’s hair. His life had managed to compress itself down into a tiny, squirming little baby and rest itself on his knees.

You smiled to yourself, lying down on the couch opposite of Joost as you watched him experience pure unbridled adoration. “You’re gonna look sooooooo pretty, Dessie!” He cooed, gently working the bristles of the brush through the long, chocolate brown curls.

He took his time, gently working his fingers through the soft hair before using two blue rubber bands to tie it into two sleek twin pigtails. He fluffed her hair out a little, smiling eagerly as Adessa giggled, clearly excited to see how her hair turned out. 

You loved seeing Joost dote on your baby girl. When you first started dating, he was very firm about not wanting any type of children. But Adessa managed to have him wrapped around her little finger.

“Daddy, why do I have to brush my hair?” Adessa asked, squirming around slightly as Joost struggled to tie the little lace bows around each pigtail.

“So it won’t get all tangled and messy.” He hummed, gently tying the last bow.

You smiled, watching as Adessa began to ramble Joost’s ears off with her little voice. Joost seemed to cling to every single word, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on his knees as he nodded. “Ja, natuurlijk.”

“I’m gonna make some bread, do you two wanna help?” You offered, standing up from the couch. “We haveeee...4 hours before we head to the park, so that’s enough time to make a loaf and lunch.” You smiled.

“Yes, I can help!” Joost smiled, standing up slowly from the arm chair as to not knock Adessa off of his knees. “Des, wil je brood maken?” Joost asked, scooping Adessa up from under her shoulders and tossing her up in the air.

Adessa shrieked and giggled, eagerly lifting her arms up as she nodded. “Ja! I wanna help mommy!” She beamed.

You smiled, making your way into the cozy little kitchen, Joost following behind you with Adessa in his arms. You got everything you’d need to make your bread and laid it out on the counter in front of the window.

Joost sat Adessa down on the kitchen counter, leaning against it as well as he watched you set everything up to make sure it would take as little time as possible. 

“I’m…not a good cook.” He chuckled, grabbing the measuring cups and spoons for you in a heartbeat.

“I know, Joost. That’s why I said help.” You giggled, setting the large bowl next to Adessa, who kicked her little legs back and forth off the counter.

“Alright, Dessa! I’m gonna let you pour the dry ingredients in the bowl and mix, okay?” You murmured, filling each measuring cup with its corresponding dry ingredients, and handing them to Adessa one by one.

You supervised her carefully, admiring her with a soft smile as she carefully added the flour, sugar, salt, and dry yeast to the bowl.

“Do I mix now?” She asked, staring up at you with her electric blue eyes. She was such a cute girl, with those beautiful pools of blue she had inherited from her dad. But of course, you could see yourself in her face as well.

“Yep! Daddy’s gonna help me add the water, and then we can all knead the dough together!” You explained, handing Joost the one cup, and half cup measuring cups.

“Could you fill these with warm water, my love?” You smiled, turning your head to face him.

He nodded, taking the cups from your hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby.” He hummed, filling the cups with warm water and adding them to the bowl of dry ingredients.

“Alright, you two,” you began, stepping in front of Joost as you picked up the silicone scraping spatula, scraping the dry ingredients off the sides of the bowl. 

“There’s a certain way to mix bread. You don’t just go in an aggressive circle,” you showed, aggressively mixing the flour and water together. “Nah. You kind of like…fold it in. Stay from the bottom, and bring in to the top til’ it’s all combined.” You nodded.

“I wanna try!” Adessa gasped, immediately grinning ear to ear as she clasped her hands together in wonder.

“Of course you can!” You smiled, sliding the bowl over to her and handing her the spatula.

She did her best to mix, trying to copy the motions you showed her earlier as her brows furrowed in concentration.

You smiled, placing your hand over Joost’s as he leaned down, leaning his head on your shoulder and placed his hands on your hips.

“I love you.” He murmured, pecking the side of your head.

You smiled, leaning your head against his lovingly. “I love you too.” You hummed, holding his hand gently.

You chattered away with Joost and Adessa, finishing up with mixing the dough before dusting the counter with flour and tranferring the slightly sticky dough onto the powdered, sleek, and wooden surface.

“Alright, cover your hands in flour, and then you kinda just…knead it. Don’t be too hard, but don’t be scared of it.” You explained, kneading the dough gently.

You let Adessa try, letting her smack and poke the dough while she snickered and chuckled.

“Joost, roll up your sleeves and knead this for me please.” You requested, watching as Adessa hopped off the counter to go play her iPad. 

He nodded, reluctantly pulling himself away from you and rolling up the sleeves on his white collared shirt. “How do I do it again…” he snickered. “Show me.”

You sighed, smiling softly as you pushed him aside gently with your hip. “Like this,” you instructed, kneading the dough again.

He nodded, shifting behind you again and placing his hands over yours, kneading the dough with you as he hummed quietly to himself.

You kept going until the dough was smooth and matte, grabbing the little baking tin and slotting it into the pan and scoring a little heart into the surface.

“All done!” You smiled, holding up the pan to get a better look.

“You want any herbs on the top, baby?” You asked, craning your head upwards so you could look at him.

He brushed his hands off with the kitchen towel before placing them on the counter on either side of you. “Maybe some sage and rosemary.” He smiled, nodding subtly.

You nodded, slowly pulling away from him to find the sage and rosemary, plucking them from the fridge. You gently sprinkled the herbs on top of the bread before drizzling a little bit of olive oil on top and sprinkling a bit of black pepper as well.

“Put this in the oven for me?” You smiled, handing him the pan. 

He smiled, taking the pan from your hands and walking over to the already preheated oven. He swung open the oven door, wincing slightly at the gust of heat before gently sliding it onto the bottom of the rack.

“There you go, babe.” He smiled, his cheeks going a rosy pink from simply gazing in your direction. “I’ll go get Dessa dressed, and you can do whatever you want.” He smiled, whisking his way over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek and making his way to Adessa in the living room.

You smiled, feeling your sensitive little heart clench and vibrate at how he loved you so gently. Ever since you met Joost, he treated you like the most precious of gems. He wanted to make things easy for you; to dote on and pamper you like you were his most prized possession.

In Joost’s eyes, you and Adessa were his heart walking around outside of his body. When humans first thought of the word love, they described it as an attempt feeling of deep affection. But when Joost thought of love, he thought of laying down with you and Dess, listening to your soft snores as time passed you by second after second.

It was those painfully slow days that reminded him that love has no time limit. Even when he was long gone and miles underneath the earths crust, his spirit would make sure the sun kept shining and the earth kept spinning for his baby girl.

You used the time Joost gave you to prep a small breakfast and pack a little snack bag for Adessa, knowing she would ultimately be hungry after playing in the park. After you finished that task, you tugged your sleeves down on your sweater, fixing your  jeans and leaning against the counter to have a sparkling water.

Joost and Adessa emerged mere minutes later, with your daughter now in a blue and white gingham dress and frilly white socks and cute little Mary Jane’s.

“Mommy, look!” She beamed, running up to you eagerly to show off her outfit. She did a fast little spin, grinning from ear to ear as she gazed up at you for approval.

You gasped, making sure to set down your can before kneeling down to be eye level with her. “You look so pretty, Dessa!” You cooed, giving her a big hug and peppering her face with kisses.

She giggled uncontrollably, trying to push your face away and squirming away from your love attack. 

You sat her back down, giving her one last kiss before patting her head gently. “Daddy did a great job.” You nodded, looking over at Joost and smiling.

He nodded back at you, giving you a thumbs up and blowing you a brief kiss.

What a cute nerd.

You stood up, standing in the kitchen and watching as Joost walked over towards you.

“I made you guys a little charcuterie board.” You smiled, gently wrapping your arms around Joost’s neck as he held your waist and gazed into your eyes.

“Oh thank you, mijn liefste!” He smiled, turning his head briefly to munch on some blueberries. “You’re so sweet, I don’t deserve you.” He mumbled, resting his head on yours.

“Not true!” You fake-gasped. “You’re the best, too.”

“…we the best music..” he whispered, immediately giggling after. 

“Bye.” You giggled, moving to walk away from him, only for him to pull you back gently.

“No, dance with me.” He pouted, swaying with you slowly in the kitchen.

“You’re so corny!” You giggled, swaying with him as well.

“People are afraid to be corny, but I was born on the cob.” He recited, chuckling in your ear. You could really see where Adessa got her laugh from whenever Joost giggled. You recognized that ‘hehehe’ anywhere.

“Daddy?” A little voice asked, Adessa staring up at you with her big round eyes.

“Yes, little one?” He hummed, still swaying with you as he glanced at Adessa.

“Are you and mommy in loooove?” She asked, leaning forward and smiling at the two of you.

“Of course! I’d move planets for your mama.” He nodded.

You snickered, smiling just a little harder at his shameless admission.

“And I would for you, too.” Joost smiled.

Adessa nodded, clinging onto Joost’s leg as she giggled. She couldn’t understand slow dancing, but she wanted to be included in anything her parents did. So she danced along with the two of you, eagerly twirling around beside you.

You smiled, watching her with nothing but love. 

“Jojo?” You hummed, resting your hands on either side of his neck gently.

“Ja?” He smiled.

“You wanna watch a movie after we take Dess to the park?” You muttered, pecking his neck gently.

He smiled, stopping in the middle of the kitchen floor before walking you back into the counter and setting you down on top of the smooth wood. 

“Of course.” He smiled, resting his head on your shoulder.

You stayed together in the kitchen for an hour or two, chatting away with each other happily about anything and everything until the oven dinged, prompting Joost to remove the fresh loaf with your pink little oven mitts.

“The bread is finished!” He smiled, placing it on the table.

“Great! Thanks.” You cheered, hopping off the counter to stare at the loaf. You fought off both Adessa and Joost, desperately trying to explain that the bread needs to cool before you cut or eat it.

“Mommy it’s ok, the bread won’t know!” Adessa grinned, standing on her tip toes in an attempt to see above the counter. Joost scooped her up, setting her down on the counter beside him as he admired the fresh baked loaf as well.

“It looks very good! Good job.” He praised, giving Adessa an approving high five. She nodded firmly, crossing her arms at her job well done before suddenly gasping.

“Mommy helped, too! Say good job to mommy!” She squeaked, pointing a finger at you.

He giggled, turning over to you and smiling.

“Thank youuu, amazing beautiful great gorgeous fiancée!” He beamed. 

“You’re welcome!” You chirped, kissing his cheek. “Alright, we can head to the park while that cools.” You nodded, heading into the living room to slide on your shoes and grab your keys.

Adessa followed behind, smiling happily as she toddled behind you, grabbing onto your fingers as she followed you out the door.

“Kom op, papa!” She called, turning her head around to pout at Joost, who was tying his shoes.

“Yeah, hurry up grandpa!” You teased, putting your hand on your hip. “You’d really make a child wait to go play at the park?” You snickered, watching as Adessa mirrored your pose.

Joost looked up, raising an eyebrow at the two of you as the picture finally panned out. He saw just how alike you and Adessa were, and suddenly all the noise in his head stopped. He was happy where he was, and couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Hold on, I’m done I’m done!” He giggled, stumbling out the door behind the both of you and closing the door.

“You got some flour on your nose.” You chuckled. “Coke allegations pending.” You whispered, motioning to the upper bridge of his nose.

He laughed, quickly clearing the flour away from his face.

“I’m not Charli.” He giggled, following behind you and Adessa closely.

“Are you sure? You seem to be bumpin’ that…” you joked.

“Nee, nee nee nee! I’m not.” He giggled.

You walked in the warm sunlight towards the park, taking steady breaths of fresh air as you admired the beautiful scenery.

The Netherlands was a bit of a change from the atmosphere you grew up with, but more grass was definitely a plus.

When you made it to the park, Adessa had set off to go play with the other kids in the grass.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around Joost’s arm and walking with him through the grass. Since Friesland was really small in retrospect, you had no doubt people recognized him, but you were grateful nobody made the move to bother or approach you with your child.

“I never thought I’d be getting married soon…” Joost suddenly blurted, holding your hand gently.

“I know, this all feels so unreal to me.” You smiled.

“I used to just say I was ok with my bloodline stopping at me…and now look, I’m engaged with a daughter.” He giggled.

“Nobody knows where they’ll end up, and that’s ok.” You shrugged, allowing Joost to pull you down and sitting in the grass with him, just far enough to supervise Adessa.

He nodded, smiling softly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 

You stayed at the park for a good hour, running around with Adessa in the grass as she chased you with a magical leaf that would make you go “boom!”

“Alright, Dessa, let’s go home and have some lunch, okay?” You smiled, scooping her up and spinning her around. 

She nodded, wrapping her arms around your neck as she waved bye to her park friends.

The walk back was relatively quiet, and you could tell that Adessa had fallen asleep. You chuckled, gently shaking her awake so she could stay up long enough to eat, have a quick little bath and then go to sleep later.

“Here, I got her.” Joost murmured, gently taking her from your arms. You smiled, thanking him wordlessly as you reached the front door and pushed it open.

You sat your bag and keys down on the side table, slipping your shoes off by the door and heading into the kitchen. You made a quick little sandwich for Adessa with some smoked turkey, Swiss cheese, pickles, lettuce, tomato, and red onion. What a non-picky baby.

You headed into the living room, handing the sandwich to a very sleepy looking Adessa whose head kept drooping onto her dad’s shoulder. Joost chuckled, watching as she perked up momentarily to eat her food.

“I like your bread, mommy.” She murmured, finishing up her sandwich with a little smile.

“Thank you!” You smiled, patting her head softly. “Im glad you like it. I made it with lots of love, just for you!” You explained, booping her little nose. 

She smiled, leaving the crusts on her plate and placing it down on the coffee table. “All done.” She murmured, rubbing her eyes as she leaned on Joost’s shoulder again.

Joost sat up slowly, ensuring she wouldn’t fall over on the couch before picking her up. “Bed time!” He beamed, dancing and twirling up the stairs with Adessa.

“I got her, just go get comfy!” He smiled, turning back to you briefly before disappearing upstairs. 

You cheered quietly, quickly setting up downstairs for movie night. You laid out the blankets, snacks, and drinks before shuffling upstairs to your shared room to change into some pajamas.

You decided on a matching pair of pink fuzzy shorts and a pink fuzzy hoodie. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing out the hoodie delicately and making sure you looked ok, even thought you knew Joost wouldn’t care even if you didn’t, because in his words “it’s okay to not be okay.”

You smiled, giggling at yourself briefly before making your way to the bathroom to check on the two of them, only to see a tub overflowing with bubbles and an Adessa with a soapy Mohawk.

“What the actual hell, Joost.” You murmured, eyes widening at the height the bubbles had managed to somehow reach. Adessa was lost in the midst of it, blue eyes just barely visible through the forest of bubbles.

Joost smiled, instantly freezing in place before slowly turning to you.

“Hello!!” He waved, slowly putting down the bubble bath solution.

“How much of that did you use!” You half-chuckled, half-scoffed, watching as the blue coloring practically spilled over the floor.

“Mommy it’s okay, I’m the bubble princess!” Adessa giggled, raising her arms up through the hoard of suds.

You sighed, but smiled softly. The cleanup would eat you the fuck alive, sure, but at least she was happy.

“Of course, sweetie.” You giggled, heading back out the bathroom slowly. You retreated downstairs to the couch, taking in the warm, orange-y yellow lighting that consumed the room. It reminded you of fall, with the sweet spices and crisp days that brought you so much joy.

You waited for no more than 5 minutes on the couch before the little pitter patter of feet came down the stairs. 

“Mommy!” The little voice whispered from the top of the stairs. “You gotta come say goodnight to me!”

You chuckled, standing up from the couch and jogging over to her. “Of course I do! C’mon!” You whispered, heading upstairs to her all pink princess themed bedroom.

Even though she had sworn her allegiance to nothing but pink time and time again, she still had the cover art for her dad’s beloved albums up on the wall next to her bed, courtesy of her father.

She scurried into bed, giggling as Joost pecked her little forehead gently. He had to completely sit down to be close to her bed, which was almost comical to see, but you didn’t wanna laugh at how massive he was just yet.

“Alright, goodnight sweetie.” You whispered, gently tying a little scarf around her head so her hair wouldn’t look crazy in the morning. “I love you!” You cooed, peppering her face with kisses.

She giggled, leaning up to kiss your nose before laying back down and rubbing her eyes. “I love you too…” she murmured, trying her best to keep her eyes open as she watched you and Joost turn off the lights and slowly leave.

You closed the door behind you two, smiling at Joost before giggling and scurrying down the steps like eager children. You crashed onto the couch together, cuddling up as Joost snatched the remote off the armrest and turned on the TV.

“This parenting shit is easy. W’s in the chat.” He giggled, pulling you as close as he could.

“I don’t know about easy, but you’re definitely a great dad!” You smiled, resting your hand on his chest.

He rolled his eyes, snickering quietly as he kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

©Taelophone<33

[storiesforallfandoms]

sleepy head ~ harry styles

word count: 1467

request?: yes!

“Hey! I request for the first time so I don't really know how much descriptive I have to be so yeah sorry if something's wrong,could I maybe request a Harry styles X reader where the reader has a bad habit of sleeping almost the whole day and when Harry wakes her up late in the afternoon she realizes that she missed yet another day with him and he comforts her beacuse she feels sad and guilty?(I hope this is understandable bc it's kind a problem of mine) thank you ♥️”

description: in which she struggles with staying awake and it makes her feel bad because she misses so much time with her boyfriend

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: rpf, more like a blurb than an imagine but...y’know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You had no idea what it was that made you so sleepy all the time. You had gone to the doctor and had your thyroid levels and your iron checked, both of which came back fine. You had taken melatonin to try and sleep through an entire night. You even tried drinking coffee and energy drinks to get you through the day. So far, nothing really worked. You were still perpetually tired.

If you had work or any plans that meant you had to leave the house, you were usually awake enough to partake. But the minute you were home, your bed would be beckoning for you, and it was nearly impossible for you to resist.

It was something you already had a lot of issues with, and you were trying to work on it, but it especially became a problem when you started dating Harry.

Harry would never say it bothered him. He was adamant whenever it was brought up that he wasn’t bothered by how often you slept. You, however, were very bothered and felt incredibly bad whenever you slept in late, or when slept your entire day away. You had such little time with him since he was always so busy, and you didn’t want to lose that time by sleeping all day.

On one of the last days before Harry had to leave for tour, the two of you had planned to spend the whole day together. You set an alarm for early that morning so you could get up and fight off the sleep you were sure would try and convince you to stay in bed.

The second the alarm went off, you got out of bed and got ready. You got dressed, made a cup of coffee, washed your face with cold water to wake yourself up more, and made breakfast. You texted Harry to say good morning and to ask when he wanted to start your day together. You were almost finished eating when you got his response: “good morning, love. i’m not long awake, so it’ll probably be an hour or two before i’m ready if that’s okay.”

“of course! see you then ❤️”

Now you just had to stay awake for maybe two hours.

You washed the dishes, even dried them and put them away. You finished your first cup of coffee and put on the kettle for another. While the water was boiling, you went to brush your teeth and splashed your face with cold water again. You paced the kitchen as you waited for your coffee to cool down enough to drink. You couldn’t let yourself sit down. You knew the moment you did, you would risk being hit my fatigue and falling asleep.

You looked at the time on your clock and realized only 30 minutes had passed since Harry had texted you. He hadn’t sent another message yet to say he was ready. You groaned as you pocketed your phone again.

“I’ve had two cups of coffee,” you said to yourself. “That should be good enough to keep me awake.”

So, you moved to the living room and sat down on the couch. You sat as straight as possible, not even allowing yourself to lean on the arm rest or to slouch. You opened TikTok on your phone and started the mindless scrolling. You figured that would be the best way to pass the time. It was easy to fall down a TikTok rabbit hole and lose an hour or more.

Eventually, your back started to hurt from the unnatural way you were sitting. You allowed yourself to lean against the arm rest. But then the leaning turned into laying down. You were on your side with your phone in your hand, TikTok still open. Your eyes were growing heavy, but you fought against them. It wouldn’t be much longer till Harry was ready. You had to stay awake.

But it was a losing battle, and soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were sound asleep.

~~~~~~

You jumped awake at the feeling of someone’s hand touching your arm. You quickly sat up, the post sleep confusion still clinging to you.

“Hey, it’s okay It’s just me.”

You blinked your blurry eyes a few times until you focused on the familiar face of your boyfriend.

You smiled, sheepishly. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright. It took me a little longer to get ready than I expected.”

You stretched your arms over your head. “What time is it?”

“Um...almost 4?”

“What?!”

Your phone was on the floor, probably having fallen when you fell asleep. You picked it up to check the time to see he was right, it was almost 4pm. You also saw you had a number of texts and missed calls from Harry.

“I texted you a few times to let you know I was ready whenever you were,” he was explaining. “When you didn’t answer, I called a few times. I figured you were asleep, so I waited a while before coming over, to let you sleep.”

“How long was a while?” you asked.

When Harry didn’t respond, it was all the answer you needed.

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you buried your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe you let it happen again. You tried so hard not to fall asleep so you could spend Harry’s last day with him, and yet you still fell victim to your fatigue.

Harry gently took your hands and lowered them from your face. You refused to look up at him, keeping your eyes on the floor instead.

“Love, I’m not upset that you fell asleep,” he assured you.

“I’m upset,” you said. “I tried everything to stay awake. I knew that if I laid down I would end up falling asleep, and I still did it. I wasted our whole day.”

“Hey.” Harry cupped your face so you’d look at him. You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, so they were just running down your cheeks as you looked at him. “You can’t help that this happened.”

“I could’ve,” you said. “If I hadn’t let myself lay down I would’ve stayed awake. I should’ve found more chores to do around the place before you came, or something to keep me busy. But I shouldn’t have to do that! If there wasn’t something wrong with me, I’d be able to stay awake like a normal person.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You gave him a look. “Yes there is, Harry. You’re always so nice when this happens, but I really wish you wouldn’t be. I wish you’d just tell me how you really feel about it, because I know it annoys you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “When have I ever made it seem like I was annoyed?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right, you technically had no evidence to support your claim that he was annoyed with you. He had been nothing but kind and patient every time you had missed plans or fallen asleep while you were both together.

“You can’t help that you’re tired so much,” he continued. “You told me about it when we went out on our first date, it’s not like it’s something that is new and came out of nowhere. And you’ve tried to deal with it, but it’s just how you are. I’m not going to be mad at you for the way you are.”

You sniffled as new tears started to form in your eyes. “But...today was our last day together before you leave, and I slept through it.”

“Last I checked, it’s only 4pm. There’s still plenty of time to do things before I have to go to bed. What do you say we grab some take away and watch a movie here?”

You wiped your cheeks and nodded. “I’d like that. And you promise to wake me if I fall asleep on your lap?”

“I don’t know. You’re adorable when you sleep.”

You playfully pushed him. “I’m serious. I already lost most of my day with you. I don’t want to lose anymore time.”

He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you if you fall asleep, love.”

You smiled and kissed his lips. “I love you, and I really appreciate the fact that you put up with my sleepy-ness.”

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with anything, because I love you, too.”

He stood from the couch and pulled you with him. You followed him to his car, where the two of you went off to spend your evening together. And you made sure not to fall asleep until the both of you were tucked away in bed that night.

[n3tb0t]

Imagine relationship between Alistor and fem reader who is like Velvet!!!!

AHH TYSM FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST!!!

I'm assuming that you mean (reader) likes to make clothes and a super fasntia (idk if I spelled that right), so I hope you enjoy this!!😊 It was hard to choose the start of this mini drabble.😔 sorry if this isn't what you expected, and I'm sorry this took forever. School and me being sick didn't help, but I hope you enjoy!!!!

TW: Fluff:), alastor x fem!reader,

🎀Sow and needles🎀

Most of the residents were in the main lobby, sitting around chatting, doing whatever they were doing.

“Dammit charlie!” Y/n yelled with Keekee in her arms. Charlie raised off the couch looking at her with confusion as to why she yelled her name. “Take your cat please, far away from my room. You're cat ruined the clothes I was working on!” she sighed, setting the cat on the ground. “Sorry y/n won’t happen again!” Charlie yelled as y/n made her way back to her room, which she shared with alastor.

Y/n walks into her shared room, upset and annoyed that the clothes that she had been working on for a while now, were now destroyed with cat scratches everywhere on each piece of clothing. She sat down at her desk, looking at her blueprints of clothing designs. Her hands run over her face with stress. Yes, she was mad about how much hard work and time she put in, but she was more mad at the fact that the formal outfit, that she was planning to surprise alastor with, was also ruined.

The doors of the bedroom opened. Y/n turned around to see who it was. “Why, hello my dear.” Alastor says with a long smile, taking steps into their shared room. “What's with the long face dear?” he asks, tilting his head looking at her. “Charlies fucking cat got into our room, and ruined my clothes I was working on.” Alastor hums. He walks closer to Y/n, standing behind her. He sets both of his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging her. Y/n hummed in content. “Thanks Alastor.” she sighed. He looks at her with a kind grin. “Of course, anything for mon amour.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. Y/n phones ding’s from a notification from sinstagram. Alastor groans with annoyance. He doesn't like modern technology, or any type of technology in general. He makes an exception for Y/n since that is how she keeps up with the clothing trends, helps her with her work, and because he loves Y/n. A new clothing trend was a prom-like dress. y/n sighed once again, she was going to have to work on the commissions that people order, and work on more clothes to post with every new trend. Alastor reaches over and grabs her phone. “The fuck? Give me back my phone Al!” she twisted her body to look at him, trying to grab back her phone. Alastor puts his hand on her face to push her away. “Ah, ah, ah~ you need a break from this wretched thing!” Y/n groans with annoyance. “Al dammit! I need to look at what's-'' Alastor puts a finger on her lips “nope! You need a break!” Y/n huffs with annoyance, turning her back at him, slouching on her chair.

Alastor walks off who knows where with her phone, leaving her to think on what to do, without reference. Y/n sigh as she grabs a paper and a mechanical pencil. After a while, a couple of papers with dress designs scattered all over her desk. Her head began to pound, she couldn’t decide what dress to make, what fabric to use, what color would look the best, everything was too much right now.

Alastor walks back with a tea cup filled with some green tea with honey. “Here mon amour, you need to stay hydrated if you're putting this much pressure on yourself.” He commented, she rolled her eyes at the comment he made. “Thank you all but can I have my phone back? I need to-” “nope.” Alastor blurted, interrupting her. Y/n made an over exaggeration groan. The tall lanky man chuckled at her dramaticness. “You’ll survive my dear.” he remarked. Y/n looks at him with an pissed off face. “Okay if you give back my phone, give me your cane.” she says, with her arms crossed, making it sound like a demand. “Nope” she quickly went and tried to grab his cane. He quickly moves to the side, letting her fall to the ground with a groan. She got off the floor with an mentally tired face, Alastor seems to notice this. “Al, hon, let me have my phone please so then I can finish up my work. The more we do this, the longer I work.” Alastor sighs, spawning y/n’s phone. “You should know that your phone is putting more stress on you every time you turn it on, dear.” He comments, as she grabs her phone from him. “I know. Once I'm done with my work I hangout with you as long as we can, okay?” Y/n replies looking at Alastor with a reassuring smile. Alastor bends down a bit to kiss her forehead “okay my dear. But please remember to eat and drink!” he says, walking out of the shared bedroom.

“Al!” Y/n yells, and almost immediately he appears. “Yes my dear?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a sly smile. “Remember how one of those lone sharks that mizzy led to the hotel, and one of the sharks ripped one of your suits?” she questions with a big smile. Alastor nods his head in response. “Yes, I do remember.” Near y/n, there was a manikin that was covered in a white sheet. She pulls it off to reveal a nice red suit with a black vest over top with red stripes on it, with similar pants that he owns. “What do you think-” Alastor cuts her off by placing a gentle kiss on her lips. It was short, but it meant alot from someone who barely did any physical touching. “It's wonderful, mon amour!” He exclaims with a big genuine smile. “Thank you my dear.” Y/n was still in a somewhat shock from the kiss. “You're welcome hon, now go try it on!”

SCRAP HCS

When you first came to the hotel, he did in fact hate you. (it was your attitude and because you caring that screen of threats with you)

After a while he had grown used to your remarks and attitude. You both had a somewhat okay friendship.

At one point the hotel needed more sponsorship, and with that a ‘party’ with all the overlords were invited to the hotel to discuss it.

Charlie had asked you, beforehand to give you time, to make clothes for the party. Which you agreed upon since for 1, she's letting you live here for free, and for 2? idk.

You had made previous dress and suits designs. So this would be pretty easy for you, all you gotta do is get their size, and whatever style they want.

You have gotten everyone's size and style they want, well.. You still have to do alastors. You dred on this you may have an okay relationship with him, but you don’t know if you get your soul taken away trying to size him.

Surprisingly, he let you….. I give up

[red-airhead]

𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽 | 𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷 |

word count - 5,282

genre - smut (MINORS DNI!!!)

warnings - feminine terms, you/your pronouns, bsf! seungmin, cam girl! reader, mutual pining(?), seungmin spoils reader, swearing, sex toys, mentions of jacking off, orgasm denial, hand kink(?), dom!seungmin, sub!reader, pet names (good girl, darling, baby), pussy slapping, slight pet play, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, making out, marking, grinding, oral (m rec), face/throat fucking, dirty talk, begging, forced orgasm, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight belly bulge, lmk if I missed anything

You weren’t entirely sure when you had told Seungmin about your job. 

But considering that you had kept it a secret for so long during your friendship, you couldn’t hold it back anymore when it was getting harder and harder to hide the lingerie from him, especially when he’d stay the night at your place.

You had a pretty tame set up, nothing too dramatic, however you had a completely different room for it, and Seungmin was starting to get suspicious when you’d cancel plans with him when a fan of yours wanted a private room with you. 

He sat you down, and made you talk.

-a few months ago-

“What’s going on? You keep canceling pre-made plans and make up some dramatic lie.” He watched your posture shift into a slouch as you sigh. You really couldn’t hide in anymore, could you? He had you cornered.

“Guess I really can’t hide it from you any longer, can I?” You huffed out, clearing your throat as you began to avoid eye contact, something you never really did with him.

“Well…?” He edged on, raising a brow at you.

“I’m a cam girl– more simply put I d–”

“I know what they are…” He almost immediately cut you off before you could start explaining. You watched him relax into the couch, looking at how nervous you seemed.

“Are you uncomfortable with that? At all? I mean you’re my best friend. I don't want you to think I’m like a slut or something..” You began to explain, and that made his brows furrow.

“Why would I think of you as a slut? It’s your life, Y/N. You get to choose what you do for a living, and if making money with your body is what you like doing, then so be it. I wouldn’t think of you any less.” He had such a sweet smile on his face, it made your heart melt from it.

-two weeks before-

Now he was buying you things. He bought your lingerie sets, sex toys you really wanted for some time now, and he’d even watch over and kick out any creeps that showed up, ones that were majorly disrespectful and didn’t respect your boundaries.

..But watching over your lives made him hornier than he thought he’d be. Instead of watching over the entire thing, he’d end up jacking off and trying to line up his release with yours as best as possible. 

Orgasm denial after orgasm denial is what he’d do with you all while kicking people. You would’ve never known though, seeing as he’d be doing this all at his own place. 

At one point he’d even made a second account just to send you money to send out a request. 

You’d follow those requests so well that sometimes he’d cum a little sooner than expected, and it made him cum hard.

He couldn’t take it anymore personally, but there wasn’t exactly anything he could do, after all he was just your best friend, there was no way in hell that you’d ever consider doing something with him on a live.

It was a personal struggle for him too, knowing that he wasn’t the one getting you off and instead it would be the toys he’d bought you a few days prior, he’d even resort to buying a fleshlight, imagining it was you on nights that you didn’t go live. 

At one point, he even started his own account, the main account he’d use to monitor your lives soon became what he would use to release his own stuff. He’d stay faceless for a while, doing audios, talking about wanting to do a collab with someone soon. He’d have plenty of views to be popular, and even told you right when he started.

At one point you even watched his lives and his videos, and it turned you on even more knowing that those moans he’d produce would be so delicious to hear in person.

You’d never ask him though, that made you feel embarrassed if he knew that you were watching his stuff. 

Some nights, you’d find yourself touching yourself to the sound of his voice, melting with every word he’d say.

-one week before-

You were doing a live show. Seungmin was monitoring on his second account, cock in hand as he watched you fuck yourself with a purple dildo, one that he had bought for you three weeks ago. 

It turned him on so much knowing that you were using toys that he had bought for you. He hand wrapped around his length as he pumped it in pace with your hip movements, and soon when his fist wouldn’t be enough, he’d break out the fleshlight, matching the pace. He watched as your hips grinded down on the dildo, a loud moan escaping when you’d reached your g-spot, and it made him groan and throw his head back, just before quickly snapping it back as he watched you make eye contact with the camera.

“I bet you’d love for this to be you, huh? Me riding your cock, makin’ you feel– hnghh– so good underneath me.. f-fuck..”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you. He needed you so bad that he couldn’t help but finally make an undeniable request. He sent so much money you were sure that his second account was rich, considering you didn’t know it was him.

“Meongmeong00! Oh my god! Thank you so much for the 2,000 tokens! Oooo and it says right here you’ve made a request!” You didn’t get off the dildo, and instead you quickly opened the message, making sure you were still on screen the entire time.

You decided to not read the message out loud, not wanting to spoil it.

Meongmeong00: Your shows are always so good, but I’m looking for more. You should do a collab, have someone fuck you for a change. You should check out PuppyM, he’s a camboy but he only does audios.

“Mmmm I can’t promise you anything meongmeong, but I can most certainly try to get in contact.” While it was a bit worrying knowing that someone had suggested you do a collab with your best friend, you decided to ignore it and finish the live. 

You had some talking with Seungmin to do, and soon.

-the evening before-

“Min,, I have something to ask, and if you’re totally weirded out you can just say no.” You started off, the both of you sat on the couch, eating whatever snacks to your heart's content as you watched your show together.

Seungmin looked at you, raising an eyebrow as he hummed in response.

“So one of my biggest supporters, meongmeong00, made a request..”

He knew exactly where this was going, and on the inside he wanted to just admit his dirty tricks, but he didn’t want to spoil it, especially with the fact you looked so cute when you were nervous, “Go on..”

“They requested that PuppyM, or more so, you, should do a collab with me..” You pulled at the hem of your (his stolen) shirt, you getting all flushed from the idea of actually having sex with him.

“Did they? Wow.. who knew two worlds would collide.” He hummed out, his voice a bit raspy from being quiet almost the entire show. 

“Min I’m serious.” 

“Oh I know.”

“So what’s your answer..?”

“Sure why not. It’d rack in views for me and you, and I’d finally do a face reveal.”

You actually couldn’t believe your ears. He said yes?

“Really? Minnie you’re the best!” You squealed, hugging him, and in order to do that you had to straddle him. Within that action he grunted but hugged back nonetheless.

You hugged him for a while, thanking him over and over again. He’d only hum in response, head peeking from your shoulder as he watched the show behind you. He was thankful that you didn’t feel the semi he had.

-the day of-

You had planned everything, you had clarified boundaries, safeword, and even decided to use the light system. You just about agreed to anything that he suggested. 

Kissing, Marking, Overstimulation, Bondage, sensory play, praise, degrading, you name it. 

In true honesty you were more than excited. The entire time you had been out that day, you had a burning sensation in your abdomen. The desire was strong, and it made you so eager to go forward in time and make the clock strike 7 o’clock. 

You had gone all out for this. You had bought new lingerie, in his favorite color purple, just to tease him even more than you needed to. You did some light makeup, knowing it would just be ruined in the end anyway.

You made sure everything was perfect, that the camera was angled perfectly, and that the room was set to your liking. 

Seungmin went all out too, he decided to dress nice, which wasn’t exactly necessary but he still did it anyway. He wore a black button up, dress pants matching. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, his fingers were even decorated with a few rings. He knew that he’d end up taking pictures of you, so what better way to do that then use his hands and have rings make his hands look pretty. He had his hair pushed back as well, something you absolutely loved on him. 

Neither of you were thinking of roleplay, but the way he dressed up definitely made it seem like it. He even brought a collar and leash, something new you’d never used before. 

When he showed up, your breath had stopped seeing him all dressed up.

“Well look at you, all dressed up for me?” You teased, watching him kick his shoes off at the door before walking towards you.

“I could say the same for you,, what’s underneath that nightgown of yours?” He hummed out, a finger lifting the silk fabric of the nightgown, that same finger grazing your skin, causing shivers to run up your spine.

“Hm, you’ll see..” You hummed out, walking to the room he’d never been in before.

He wasn’t expecting it to be so nicely done. The best part was the amount of options you had for him. The ties, blindfold, the toys he bought for you, even two different types of whips and a paddle. You were decked out for him.

“You said you’d want options so I broke out every toy you’ve bought along with a couple of other things you might find interesting. Did you bring anything?” You asked, pointing towards his bag.

“Oh right.. I uhm, I’m not sure you’re into it but I was thinking maybe a bit of control?” He then pulled out a collar and leash, and you clenched around nothing.

“Yeah that’s fine, like breath play?”

“I was thinking–” He paused, setting down the collar and leash and walking towards you, leaning to your ear, “Maybe some pet play?” 

Oh fuck.

“Y-Yeah we can uhm.. We can do that.” You huffed out, swallowing thickly as you watched him move back, hum, and then get ready for you to start your live.

You were sitting on the bed, watching all of your viewers come in, some you didn’t recognize in which they all, no surprise, asked where PuppyM was.

“Welcome! I’m glad all of you could make it today!” You greeted, gently waving to the screen as you shifted so your legs were crossed. You watched donations slowly pour in, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

Seungmin watching this in real life made him nervous.

“As you remember, a few weeks ago, meongmeong00 made a request, and I didn’t tell you what they requested, but as you can tell from the title.. I’ve decided on a collab!” You hummed out, leaning forward just a bit, your cleavage making itself known in the process. You could hear Seungmin shift a bit, waiting for you to signal him to come in. He had grabbed the collar and leash beforehand too.

“So, without further ado, please welcome the one and only PuppyM!” You had let a hand reach out towards Seungmin, in which he came out from hiding, humming lightly as he stayed standing, watching you move your head upwards as he walked closer. The camera was angled perfectly to wear his head cut off, but that would be pointless very very soon. 

“Thank you for inviting me to your show tonight, Y/N.” He responded, in which you hummed in response as you felt him move your hair to put the collar on you. A smile was on your face as he looked down at you.

“Of course, the more the merrier am I right?” You added, to which he nodded before sitting down and looking at the camera.

“And now they get to see my face, too.” He watched the chat go crazy with the sudden face reveal, a smirk on his face.

“I think they seem to enjoy your face, Min.” You resorted to a simple nickname that would be easy to use.

“You think so? I agree.” He replied, watching you turn your head to him. How it was so tempting to just kiss you right now.

“Well, might as well put on a show..” You hummed out, standing up and teasingly lifting your nightgown off. Oh how his heart stopped.

Purple was such a beautiful color, especially with you wearing it. He could feel his mouth water as he sat and watched you drop your nightgown on the floor. 

“Wow.. Purples a pretty color on you, darling..” He hummed out, watching you walk to the side of the bed. He moved so he could meet you by the edge of the same side. 

Your hands rested on his thighs for a moment, leaning close to him, prepared to kiss him but he stopped you.

“Uh-uh.. Sit first.” He commanded, and you could feel your knees go weak at those words. 

You quickly straddled his lap, his hands going to your hips as you looked at him from above, “Good girl.” He hummed out, and you could feel yourself get wetter.

You went back to leaning in to kiss him, his eyes fluttering shut slowly but surely. Your lips soon connected with his, your hands reaching to tangle into his hair. It was just light foreplay and you already had a small wet patch on the lace panties.

The way his lips moved on yours, the heat from his body and yours connecting and creating a great sexual tension. You could hear his shaky breaths clear as day as you kissed, sucked, and nibbled on his bottom lip. 

One hand retreated from his hair, slowly guiding down to his pants where they were greeted with a bulge in his pants. Almost instinctively you started palming, but a single word prevented you from continuing.

“Stop. Did I give you permission?” He huffed out, pulling away from the kissing as he stared at you with dark eyes. You melted under his gaze almost immediately.

“Did I need permission?” You asked, a smirk on your face, and one soon grew on him.

“Snarky, aren’t we?” He muttered out, slapping your ass, and hard. You were sure there would be a mark left as you yelped and moaned, head thrown back.

“M-Min–” You whimpered, hand retreating from his bulge.

“Hm? What’s the matter? Can’t handle it?” He teased, gently rubbing the spot he hit on your ass.

“No– I can handle it–”

“Color?”

“Green.”

He carried on with his next action, one hand retreating from your hips to greet your aching clit. A finger rubbing in a circular motion almost immediately, causing you to gasp and let out a soft moan. You almost instinctively grinded down on his hand, but knowing that the result of moving your hand to his bulge, you stopped yourself.

“Such pretty moans.. Matches a pretty face doesn’t it? Don’t you guys agree? She has such pretty moans.” He teased, his eyes never leaving you. The chat was going wild with donations and comments. 

You kept moaning when he would change the pace of his finger before stopping, it would cause you to whine but when he picked up again it was cut off and you’d go back to moaning. 

This went on for a few minutes, the continuous torture of him teasing your clit and making you want more. 

By the time he stopped, your core was aching for everything and more.

“Please Min– I need it–”

“Why don’t we be patient, darling. You’ll get what you want soon, let me have some fun and prep you yeah? You need to be able to fit all of me in you if you want the night of your life..” He teased, both hands retreating as he unhooked your lace and very mesh bra. 

Being face to face with your tits was so much better than the screen, “So beautiful.. You’re perfect..” He muttered, a hand going to one of your tits, lightly squeezing it. 

You don’t know what turned you on, the praise of all of the touching he was doing. 

“Touch me more please..” You said loud enough for everyone watching to hear, but not loud enough for the neighbors to hear you.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” And before you could even respond, his lips wrapped around your nipple, causing you to gasp and let out a shuddered moan, hands going back to his hair. 

He’d continue to play with your nipples. Sucking, swirling, nibbling, and tugging on them. He was sure that they’d be swollen and with the way you were reacting, he could get off on just that. He turned to the other one, giving the same treatment. 

He knew you wanted more, but he loved the way you were reacting even from simple foreplay. 

“I haven’t even gotten to the good bit and you’re squirming and begging for more..” He hummed out, pulling away from your nipple before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

Soon enough though, your clothed pussy met his clothed cock, and you began grinding down on him. With that action, it caused a strained moan to release from his lips as he pulled away.

“Fuck..” He muttered out, head leaning back as he relished in the feeling.

“Feel good enough for you?” You teased, thumb tugging at his bottom lip. You knew he was enjoying just from the way his body would react. 

“Feels so good, darling.” He groaned out, looking back at you. Your cheeks were flushed, lips plump from all the kissing.

His head dipped into your neck, pressing kisses as he pushed your hips down harder on his, moans releasing from the both of you. If he could just hold out a little longer. 

He began to mark your clear skin, leaving plenty of love bites and hickeys on your collarbone and neck, “Mine, your mine.. No one else's jus’ mine.” He muttered against your skin, fingers digging into your hips and his grip was so tight you were sure there would be marks by tomorrow.

“ ‘M all yours Min– Just yours baby..” The both of you stopped because you knew it was time for a change and Seungmin was super needy at this point.

You quickly got off of his lap, hands going to his belt and taking it off for him, now getting on your knees, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. His hands quickly worked on his shirt, tossing it to the side once it was off, and you pulling his pants down. 

You swallowed at the hard on you could see much more clearer. Fuck he was big.. He was girthy and he was lengthy, “Holy shit Min..” You muttered, licking your lips. You knew that it would be bigger the moment it was out. 

You stood up to move the camera closer to the two of you, so the viewers could get a better sight of you, him, and his clothed cock.

“Do you guys see this? He’s huge!” You let out a scoff afterwards, a smug smirk on his face. 

“Why don’t you get a taste then?” Seungmin replied, hand going down to caress your cheek. You hummed as your fingers went underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, now tugging them down and watching as his cock slapped against his abdomen. 

Your mouth watered, and you could feel some of it slipping from your lips.

“Careful, don’t drool all over me.” He joked, and you laughed as well, swallowing the spit and then letting some more form in your mouth. 

A long stripe is what you licked on the underside of his length, tongue flicking at his red tip. A sigh immersed from his lips as he watched you. He was more than certain you had practiced prior to this, and even looked at some tips because he definitely knew you never sucked off any of the dildos you had. 

He watched as you took him in your hands, getting him prepped to take him into your mouth. 

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue as you tasted the salty pre-cum on your tastebuds. You let spit trickle down from your mouth and down his length before you began to take him into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat before you started forcing yourself down even more. 

He let out a broken moan feeling the warmth of your mouth. He could feel himself twitch as your moved your hand, jerking what you couldn’t reach as you lifted, eyes watering as a string of saliva connected your tongue with his dick. 

“Fuck this is a sight..” He muttered, hand going to your hair and you knew exactly what he was about to do.

“You can take more, right?” He hummed out, and you nodded in response.

“Color?”

“So fucking green Min.” You whined out, just before feeling him guide your head back to his length, making you take what you could at first, just before he began to buck his hips upwards, forcing you to take more. While it made you gag at first, you soon got used to the feeling of him entering and leaving your throat.

A hand went down to touch yourself, rubbing your clit in a circular motion as you let him fuck your throat.

Desperate moans and groans passed his lips, “Fuck– Baby your throat feels so good– jus a good girl for me– shit-” 

You hummed around him, causing a loud moan to escape from him. You knew that he wouldn’t last like this, and he knew too, but he kept going.

“Taking it like such a good girl, yeah? Taking me down your throat, I bet you enjoy it…” He certainly was a dirty talker.

He quickly pulled you off of his length after he felt himself get close. He looked at your fucked out face, the way mascara started streaming down your cheeks the moment he began to fuck into your throat, and the way that your face looked so red, all the saliva dripping from your chin and onto your soft and marked up tits. 

“Fuck you’re such a dream..” He muttered, reaching for his phone and taking a picture of you, which you allowed. It would just be more material for later.

“MIn please–” 

“I know. Color?”

“Fuck Min don’t ask anymore. It’s green, and it’ll stay green.” You huffed out, wiping your chin as you crawled onto the bed. 

He quickly grabbed the camera to angle it so they could see him getting ready to go down on you. 

“We won’t need those useless toys.” He hummed out, practically ripping off the panties. It didn’t matter anyway, they wouldn’t be needed after tonight.

He began kissing down your body, spreading your legs open as he stared at all of your glory.

Your glistening pussy and the way that it was just ready for him made him so excited. 

He covered his fingers in his spit, rubbing them between your folds as he watched you squirm and moan from the feeling, “Please Min, put them in me– Make me squirt for you.” You whined.

That was new. 

He then inserted his middle finger into your hole, feeling your walls clench around the singular digit as you moaned from the stretch. He was reaching deep and he could tell just from the way you reacted. 

He fucked it into you, knowing it wouldn’t be enough but he wanted you to beg. 

“Min–”

“Beg for it. I want you to beg for me.” He teased, and it caused you to whine.

“Fuck Min– Please– I need it so bad, I want you so bad–” 

“Not good enough..”

You huffed, grinding against his palm, “Fuck your fingers into me please– Please Min– Your finger feels so good but I want more- anghh– Can I have more please?” You locked eyes with him as you said those words, and that made him give in.

As his ring finger entered you, he hummed out a “good girl” as you moaned from the stretch. Your eyes rolled as he began to curl his fingers.

Your hands went to cover your face, moaning into them as he thrusted his fingers in and out, curling them on occasion as his other hand came over to torture your clit, matching the pace of his fingers.

You were so close you could feel it, and it was unbelievable how close you were. Your best friends fingers were magic, and the way he continuously thrusted and curled his fingers, you were sure to ask him to fuck you again in the future.

“M-Min! Fuck– uugh– ‘M close Min! Min please– AH!” And that was it, your orgasm had hit so hard that your legs started shaking, but he didn’t stop there.

You felt like you were seeing stars, moaning out his name desperately as your whole body trembled, gripping the sheets like tomorrow as your eyes rolled back. 

When you came back down, you immediately got shot back up when you realized he hadn’t stopped.

“MIN! Shit– S-Sto– MMM! Ohmygod–” His fingers had been removed but he was rubbing your clit like there was no tomorrow.

“C’mon, give it to me, you can give me another baby..” He hummed out, watching you squirm underneath him as you tried stopping him, but he refused.

“Color?”

“SO FUCKING GREEN– OHMYGODMIN!” Your back arches, eyes begin to water as your hips lifted off the bed, squirting all over your thighs and on his abdomen. He grunted from the sight, licking his lips as he watched your body convulse and tremble.

He slapped your pussy once and it caused you to jolt.

“Good girl..” He hummed out, letting you take a minute to come back down your high.

You could still feel it even after the heavy orgasm, clenching around nothing as you looked up at him.

“Think you’re ready?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

That was the moment he lined himself up with you, his tip prodding at your entrance before he slowly began to push in, holding your hips. He was gentle with you during this time.

You whimpered, gripping onto his forearms. The stretch wasn’t unbearable but it was still a stretch. You clenched around him and it caused him to grunt. 

“Relax, you’re okay baby..” He muttered, pressing soft kisses to your lips.

Once he was all the way in, you could see the smallest bump in your abdomen, your hand going to it and pressing down, causing you to moan and retreat your hand, “Fuck..”

“Look at that.. I fit..” He joked, a small laugh emitting from him as he let you adjust. 

“So full.. You’re so big.. Fuck–” You squirmed, grinding your hips against him. That was his signal.

Seungmin began to thrust into you, watching the small bump disappear and then reappear with every thrust. 

You weren’t sure when you started feeling it heavily, but when you did, you couldn’t stop moaning. Every thrust released a moan from you and he found it the hottest thing imaginable. 

“F-Faster Min– FUCK– Fuck me faster please– hard–harder–” You moaned out, gripping his forearms tightly, nails digging crescent moons. 

He grunted in response, doing exactly as you said. He wasn’t sure what felt better, the way your velvet walls felt so good around him or the way you’d clench so hard that he would’ve sworn he would cum. 

“Such a good girl– my good girl– taking me so well,, so deep.” He moaned out, gripping your hips tighter as he slammed into you over and over again. 

You weren’t sure how long this would go on, but you knew it was racking in views and donations. 

You also weren’t sure if this would change anything between you and Seungmin.

That didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was the pleasure the two of you were feeling.

“Ohmygodmin– fuck I-I– ‘M SOCLOSE–” You struggled to make out words, practically babbling at this point as your trembled. 

He could feel you pushing him out, and he knew exactly what it was.

He pulled out and watched as you whined and squirted. Fuck it was so hot watching you.

He pushed right back in as soon as you finished, thrusting just as fast as before. 

Your whines and moans didn’t even stop, they just kept going as he fucked into you.

Your body convulsed again, walls clenching around him. Just a little longer,, just a little longer and you knew he would cum.

“Fu–Holy shit– Y/N–” He couldn’t even get words out at this point, it all felt too good for him. He knew how close he was, yet he kept pushing and pushing. He wanted you to squirt once more before he came.

That’s when his hand came to your clit and began rubbing just as he did before.

You cried out, tears welling in your eyes before spilling. You knew you could take it, but your words kept spilling.

“I can’t– FUCKING– ohmy– ohmygodmin– SHIT I’M–” ANd he felt you push, so he pulled out and watched you squirt once more. It didn’t take him long to push back in, his thrusts now sloppy and stuttered as he huffed and moaned heavily.

“Take it– Hold it in you– Fuck–” He said into your ear, and within one, two, three thrusts, his hips stilled and he painted your walls white.

Both of you were panting heavily, looking back at each other as he both relished in post-orgasm. 

“Fuck Min,, that was so good..” You muttered out, pressing a kiss to his lips. You looked at the camera, smiling at it gently as you felt him pull out.

“Glad you enjoyed it, Y/N.” He hummed out, laying next to you and looking at the camera.

“Thank you so much for the idea meongmeong00, I’ve definitely had the time of my life.. And thank you to all those who came to enjoy it! I hope that this was good enough for you and that you’d want something like this in the future, see you guys next week!” You said before turning off the camera, Seungmin going to end the live.

“Holy shit Min..” You laughed out, sitting up as you clenched around nothing, some of his cum dripping from your cunt.

“You have fun?”

“Hell yeah.. That’s the best fuck I’ve ever had in my life!” You stood up with shaky legs, going to him and pressing a kiss on his lips.

“Yeah? How about another round?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

[sopiao]

i’ve had writers block for the longest fuckn time and i just thought if an idea that i think is cute :3 (i wrote this with the 141 + könig)

So, imagine having glasses, and losing them during a mission or breaking them in your sleep. So, now you have to go throughout the day, week, month, however long it takes to get fixed with out them.

Constantly squinting and having a permanent confused face when you can’t see the board that Price is mapping out the plan for the next mission.

“What happened to yer glasses?” Soap leans a little to the side, still trying to look like he’s still paying attention, he’s been thinking whether Price is bald or not for the past 20 minutes.

“They broke” You shrug, acting like you don’t really need it that much, but right now you could be declared legally blind with how much your vision sucks right now.

“What— How?” Facing you now, not caring whether he looks like he cares about the briefing or not.

“I.. br-mmm” You mumble, too embarrassed to tell him how it broke.

“Huh?”

“I bro-mmmm, sleep”

“Wut?”

“I broke it in my sleep” Everyone gets up now that Price’s done. Mumbling quietly so no one else hears, although now you brought more attention to yourself with how Soap can barely contain his snickering.

“I can try to fix em for you” He follows you to your barracks where you pull them out of a drawer. Literally snapped in half, one lense has a crack across it, and one of the arms is broken off. It’s all in three pieces.

Soap is literally shaking, clenching his fist as he tries not to burst out laughing. Literally his vision goes as blurry as yours as he tries not to let any of his tears slip.

“H— H—How.. did this.. happen?” He gets cut off every time by his own wheezing, having to suck in to keep himself together. Looking at how broken your glasses are, it’s like you were twisting like an alligator in your sleep.

—

“What, the fuck, are you doing?” Ghost walks into your room to see you face down in a book, at first he through you passed out asleep until he saw you move your face across the page to see the next sentence.

“I don’t have my glasses” Seeing your 3 pieces of glasses by your desk, he has to take a deep breath to compose himself and shut the door to keep himself from laughing in front of you.

—

“WHAT THE FUCK” You yell, storming into the common room for the fifth time, more pissed this time as you stomp around, looking around, under, and in everything you can.

Huffing as you finally give up and sit on the couch next to Gaz and Soao who’s slouched on a bean bag. Seeing your obvious outburst, Gaz sets down his comic book on his lap.

“You okay, buddy?” He asked, laying his arm behind you on the edge of the couch. Trying to console you like a child.

“I lost my notebook again, I wasted an hour of my free time trying to look for it” You slink in further into the couch, arms crossed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face that still ends up landing on your nose.

“Oh..” Gaz said, looking between you and the very obvious bright red notebook on the table that’s literally right in front of you.

“I- I’m sure it’ll turn up” He shrugs, not knowing whether he should point it out or just let you figure it out.

“You think it’s just gonna show up out of the blue—“ You sit up, immediately cutting yourself off.

“WHAT THE—“ (hopefully y’all got the reference)

—

Ghost and Price both perk up and look at you when you knock and poke your head through the crack of the door.

“Have you guys seen König anywhere?” They both look at you, each other, then at König who’s literally right behind you. He’s holding a finger to his lips, to tell them to not tell you. They look back at each other then shake their head at you.

“Damn.. Thanks anyway” Standing in the hallway with your hands on you hips as you bite on your bottom lip.

He’s been following you for the last 15 minutes doing this. You asked Soap about him when you were in the kitchen, König was standing beside you. Following you around the base the entire time you searched for him.

Asking newer recruits where he was, they played along as well. Too intimidating by the man behind you to deny his request to keep quiet.

—

“Here. I fixed it for you” Price hands you a cloth which had your glasses wrapped in. It made your heart warm that he took time out of his work to fix it for you.

Unwrapping the white handkerchief. Your glasses are being held together by white medical tape. Surprisingly sturdy. Putting them on your face, you feel reborn now that you can actually see.

“These actually suck. But thank you” Smiling up at him, thankful that he actually did something to help. You started doing little favors for him for a couple weeks to try and repay him :3

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 2

WARNINGS: mentions of death

You had an unexpectedly wonderful time.

You opened your birthday gifts, receiving a book from your mother, a scarf (knitted by Mrs. Weasley) from the Weasley family, and a simple though lovely pair of silver earrings mailed from your grandmother.

It seemed childish at first, but you enjoyed having "Happy Birthday" sung to you as your mother carried your cake to the table. You closed your eyes, making a wish as you blew out the candles and everyone cheered.

After being dished a slice, you brought your dessert and new book to the living room couch. You took your sweet time opening to the first page, smiling at the popping sound of the book's fresh binding and running your fingers over the clean, smooth paper.

Soft chuckling startled you away from your delight. You hadn't noticed George, who stood in the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the frame casually with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you.

"Oh, excuse me! Am I interrupting something?" he teased.

"No, no!" you laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you in a vulnerable moment. You closed your book and set it on a side table for later. "Come in."

He did. George sat down on the other end of the sofa in a slouch, sighing leisurely. "What I'd give to feel the way you looked just now," he sniggered. He meant it jokingly, but the distant look in George's eyes abruptly reminded you of his brother's passing, making his comment seem very sad.

You laughed, trying to keep the mood light. "Nothing makes me so happy as opening a brand-new book. There's something so... satisfying about it."

George nodded. "Hmm... I think I remember feeling similarly when I was younger every time I opened a chocolate frog. I used to collect—"

You gasped in excitement, cutting him off. "I remember those! My dad used to bring them home for me... every now and then..." You trailed off as you remembered vaguely your father telling you about a particular chocolate frog card featuring a famous witch.

"Ah, that's right. You're... probably not buying much wizard candy these days," said George, and you're thankful that he continued the topic of sweets instead of your father.

"Nope," you said bluntly. "Even if I tried, I don't think I could. I assume I'm not allowed."

George surprised you with a disbelieving snort. "There's no way you wouldn't be allowed. You're a... a squib..." He paused, as if expecting you to be offended, but you only waited patiently for him to go on. "Not a muggle. As far as I know, no one should reject you, especially candy shops."

"Really?"

"Really. And if they did, it'd most likely be for your own safety." He laughed. "Now that I think about it, I definitely wouldn't want you in my shop without my close supervision."

"You own a candy shop?" you asked in astonishment.

He chuckled smugly, taking pleasure in your amaze. "I do! Well, I sell more than candy. It's a joke shop really."

"Oh, I wish I could see it!" you groaned and imagined all of the fantastic things you were missing out on.

George's expression changed to something of consideration. "Now that you know you're allowed, the only reason you don't is because you have no way of getting there, correct?" he asked.

"...Pardon?"

He gave a lop-sided smile and sat up straight, leaning toward you in excitement. "How would you like to come with me? To my shop I mean. I can even show you 'round all of Diagon Alley if you'd like!"

"Really?"

George laughed. "Really!"

"I would like that very much!" you said, grinning ecstatically, but your smile began to fade away. "Although... I'll have to talk over it with my mother first. She worries about me enough already..." It was then that you started to worry. You'd always dreamed of exploring places where witches and wizards gathered, let alone the famed Diagon Alley. But, since the Weasley's made you feel so happy that night, you'd forgotten for a time about your new little fear of magic until now.

George seemed to notice your anxiety. "Well, you can tell her that you'll be in good hands," he said cheerily. "I know that spot like the back of my hand, and we'll only do what you want to."

His words comforted you only somewhat. It wasn't that you didn't trust George; he was a childhood friend. You were more concerned about the other wizarding folk you might encounter in Diagon Alley.

At that moment, your mother walked into the room carrying a full tea tray. "Hello," she said as she set the tray down on the mini table in front of you and George. "I thought this would go nicely with the cake."

"Thanks, Mrs. y/l/n!" said George, moving to pour you and himself a cup.

"Yes, thank you," you said, though it was only out of politeness. Something about the way Mum was acting seemed suspicious.

She nodded. "You're very welcome." When you expected her to leave and go back to conversing with George's parents, she didn't. "I couldn't help but overhear something about a trip to Dragon Alley," Mum said, and you could tell she was trying to mask enthusiasm.

Ah, there it is, you thought to yourself.

"It's Diagon Alley. And yeah, George offered to take me. That is, if it sits well with you," you said. You weren't yet entirely sure if you wanted to go, but Mum's opinion would solidify your decision either way.

"Oh, of course!" Mum responded, all too encouraging, and you wondered if she had been intentionally eves-dropping on your conversation with George. "You are an adult now, your own person! You don't need me to tell you what to do or not do. Just stay safe and have fun! Enjoy the tea!" And with that, Mum went back to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the dining room.

George sipped his tea noisily to catch your attention, eyeing you with raised eyebrows.

You chuckled awkwardly. "I suppose that's out of the way now..."

"My schedule is open on Thursday," he said and proceeded to drink his tea whilst staring at you.

"Hmm... Alright. Let's do it."

"I'll pick you up at 10:00?"

"That's fine."

"It's a date then!" George stated gladly, placing his empty cup back on the tray.

You weren't sure of what he meant exactly when he said "date", but all that really mattered to you at that moment was the fact that you had plans to visit Diagon Alley. The Diagon Alley: only the biggest wizarding shopping district in the UK! You could scarcely believe it.

You took a sip of your tea.

During the next forty-five minutes, you listened to George list all the things you could do on Thursday while at Diagon Alley. It made you so excited that, by the time Mr. Weasley came to tell George it was time for them to go, your face hurt from smiling so excessively.

You and Mum bid the Weasley's goodnight, and each of the three Weasley's bid you one more happy birthday before leaving.

"See you Thursday," George said as he was the last to step off your front porch, and you were taken aback when his smile disturbed the butterflies in your stomach. They had been dormant for so long, you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"I look forward to it," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from grinning stupidly, and closed the door. You turned around to come face to face with Mum, who was all but jumping up and down with eagerness.

"So? Tell me what's happening!" she demanded.

"He's gonna come get me at 10:00 on Thursday, and we'll just go from there!" you responded, and your own giddiness surprised you. You then pointed an accusatory finger at Mum. "Don't think I didn't know exactly what you were doing with that tea nonsense!" you laugh.

She giggled, shrugging shamelessly. "I've got to play my part as your mother! You might have chickened out if I hadn't."

"Wha— 'chickened out'?" you repeated.

Mum nodded. "You were this close," she said, holding her fingers together in a pinch. "Ever since you graduated highschool and your father passed away, you've really made an effort to hide away in this house. I want you to get out and... grow!"

You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but Mum interrupted.

"And you want it, too," she added. "You just don't know it yet."

"I understand where you're coming from, but I don't imagine getting a tour of the magical world is an easy start to 'getting out'," you snorted. "Aren't you a little bit... you know... afraid?"

Mum took a moment to think over your question. "Well, if I'm being honest, no," she said. "The threat that You-Know-Who... Voldemort and his followers posed is gone. Sure, there are still bad people, but that's just how the world is no matter where you are. You can't afford to be scared of reality, my dear."

You sighed. "I know. You're right."

"I always am," Mum chuckled. "I'm not sure why you were angry at me. I helped get you a date with a cute boy." She winked and nudged you in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a million," you snickered, rolling your eyes. "For the record, I'm an adult now; I don't date cute boys. I date handsome, young men."

Mum laughed. "That's more like it!" She then kissed you on the forehead, following with a hug. "Goodnight, y/n. And happy birthday."

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan @deathtonumber7 @elmolovesw33d @coffeebeans11 @dumb4person

[carpsurprise]

 ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ prompt list, "winter" + sam ... !

→ gender neutral — (they/them pronouns)

→ notes: is it almost june... yes... did i find this while cleaning my docs... yes... so sorry its out of season for us northern hemisphere Girlies

→ word count: 800-ish

The wind had sent a shiver down Sam’s spine, making him grab at his arms in hopes of keeping any warmth to himself. Even though he had fully known it was going to snow, he had still worn his beat-up old jacket and ripped jeans. He had clearly cared about looking nice over staying warm, but being nearly thirty minutes from both the farmhouse and his house had created some issues.

“Sam, I don’t think you’ll survive this,” the farmer complained, flitting their eyes over to him. They had come fully dressed for the occasion, wearing multiple layers of nearly everything to help them brace the valley’s cold. 

“No where else to go but home,” he mumbled, setting his gaze down at the snow beneath their feet. He kept his eyes locked onto his path, making sure to not trip on any hidden roots or rocks in lieu of him rolling down the snow-covered mountain. Any other time he would’ve happily dived down for some fun, but the way his fingers burned with numbness had reminded him to act his age. 

The farmer rolled their eyes at the situation at hand. Had they acted on bringing an extra set of gloves and a hat like they had thought, neither of them would be cutting their date short due to a risk of hypothermia. They had known Sam all too well, and should have acted on their first worry. Grabbing Sam’s shoulder, and feeling him flinch in response, they helped Sam navigate the uneven places of snowfall. Even with their guidance, he kept his head and voice low.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” they responded, turning their head to look at him. The tip of his nose was red, and snowflakes left to solitude littered his eyebrows and hair. Lifting their hand from his shoulder, they rested it upon his cheek for a few seconds before pulling it over the back of his head. “Good thing you woke up too late to gel your hair, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” he huffed, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. “Can’t imagine how bad that would’ve been.”

The farmer let their silence overcome them again, focusing on getting to one of their homes with as little frostbite as possible. Upon their arrival to town, the farmer had stopped just as they hit the cobblestone, waiting for Sam to turn to face them. “Hey, maybe we should go to the farmhouse. I know it’s a little bit more of a walk, but I have a fireplace you can sit by.”

Sam nodded without speaking, walking to the farmer’s side as close as possible to take any heat they radiated. He wrapped his hands robotically around their upper arm, tensing up the further he walked. Sam was frozen to silence, a true rarity in any interaction with him. The two arrived at the farmhouse promptly with no conversation. The farmer ran up the steps to open the door quickly, shutting it behind Sam the second he stepped in to stop the snow from following. 

He found the loveseat by the fireplace within seconds, slouching with his head in his hands as the farmer quickly stoked the fire. They stood up after finishing, lingering on Sam’s pitiful state for a moment before turning to the kitchen. Pulling out a mug from the cupboard, they prepared a hot cup of coffee for him, glancing back at him every few minutes to ensure he was still alive. Sam hadn’t moved from his position when he entered, still staying completely silent.

They returned to his side, setting down the coffee and pulling a blanket off the couch to drape over him. “Here, you could’ve taken this when you sat down, Sam.” He shook his head slowly, mumbling under his breath as he slowly raised his head. “Coffee,” they stated simply, watching as he slowly stretched his arm out. They held their hand beneath it, fully expecting him to drop it from his numbed hands. 

Mumbling out an affirmation, he successfully held the mug in his hand with a relieved sigh. After a few moments he turned his head to the farmer with a sad grin. “Sorry for ruining our date like that.”

“It’s fine,” they responded, shaking their head and setting their hand against the back of his neck. He still felt chilly, but not nearly as bad as before. Sam sighed once more, relaxing his body into theirs, and resting his head on their shoulder. 

“I’ll make it up to you, and next time I’ll look at the weather before I leave this house.”

The farmer laughed, pulling themselves away from him. “Yeah, you better. I can’t deal with this every time we go out.”

He shrugged, lazily turning his head to look at them. “Gonna have to get used to it, especially now that you’re stuck with me.” 

[64yrsold]

ACHES 12. innocent

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (11)

It was becoming habitual, our relationship. I’d sit in my living room, eyeing the window, waiting to see a dark figure slouch up to my doorstep. I almost felt like a housewife, trying to prepare dinner for him after his nine-to-five, having a bottle of wine ready for the event that was his return home. Getting groceries and folding his clothes. He never asked me to take care of him, but it was an easy way to show him how much I loved him. I love you so much, take this, eat this, live here, forever. It can be like this forever. 

He was writing everyday, which wasn’t unusual, but he seemed to be struggling to write everything down. Sometimes, we would be in the middle of dinner, or a movie, or out on a walk, and he’d pull out a black Moleskine, scribble furiously, then tuck it back into his pocket or bag, apologize, and kiss my cheek. If I ever tried to grab it from his hands teasingly, he’d snatch it from me, or throw it across the room. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he’d tell me. Then distract me, drawing thick inky hearts on the inside of my wrists. Writing his name there. Drawing flowers and smiles and tracing Love You Love You Love You. I’d forget all about his notebook, discarded in the corner.

If he ever forgot that little notebook at my place, I knew I would read the entirety of it without remorse. I was obsessed with what he was writing, the secrecy of it. And I prayed that he would write about me, that I was the only woman he could think about, that I was the last woman he would ever write about. And I pleaded, at the same time, that he did not write a word regarding our relationship. I knew he would be honest.

“You’re back,” I grinned, offering him a glass of wine as he hung his coat on the rack. 

“Hi, darling,” he chuckled, kissing my cheek and squeezing my hip, letting me place the glass in his palm. “All dressed up just for me?”

I nodded, twirling for him. My dress fluttered at my thighs, and I curtsied like a clumsy child. I felt silly, and pretty. I felt like his girl.

He grinned, “So gorgeous.” He took a sip of wine, watching me through his half-lidded eyes. I imagined that he was tired, his ears ringing from listening to the same few seconds of a song for hours. 

“You have a nice day at work?” I turned, setting out his dinner plate. 

“Looks nice,” he nodded at the food, sitting at the table. I sat next to him, wanting to be within his reach. I wanted his hands pressed into my hips, his thumbs digging into me, his teeth in my skin. I wanted to be caressed, held carefully, carried from the couch to the bed. I wanted to be covered and drowned. 

He reached under my chair, grabbing the leg of it, pulling me closer to him, “I had a good day at work.” 

“You write something for me?” I blinked prettily, all sweet and girlish. He put a hand on my thigh.

“Maybe.”

“Come on, tell me one line,” I poked at his shoulder. 

“It’s not as exciting as you make it sound,” he rolled his eyes, chewing. I took a sip of wine from his glass.

“I’m not making it sound like anything,” I pouted, playing innocent. He took his glass from my hand, smiling quietly into the rim of it, watching me huff and sigh. I liked how his eyes darkened.

“Take off that dress, I’ll tell you one of my lyrics,” he taunted. He set his glass on the table, turning it slowly. His hand was still gripping my thigh. “I’ll read it straight from the notebook.”

“If it’s about me, I shouldn’t have to work for it,” I set my jaw. He swallowed, then leaned in.

“I like watching you work,” his hand slid higher up my leg, my dress gathering at his wrist. His smallest finger brushed against the lace of my underwear. “I like you all exhausted. Panting over me.”

My cool demeanor slipped momentarily, a sigh edging from between my glossed lips. He was staring, mouth wet and shoulders stiff.

I breathed in through my nose, raising my chin, “I’m owed it.”

“Is that what you think?” He squeezed my thigh, kneading to keep himself busy. He was obsessed, watching my lips part, silky breaths falling from them. 

“Unless you didn’t write anything today,” I said into his ear. “Were you too busy thinking of me?”

“I was thinking of you,” he groaned, moving his hand under my dress to feel my hip. “That’s always true.”

“Nice things?” I gasped, his fingers hooking into the fabric at my hips. 

“Not really,” he muttered, nearly inaudible. I grinned at this, cheeks hot and blood rushing up my neck. He pulled at my underwear, but I pushed his hands away.

“I want to hear a lyric.”

He sighed, “Really?”

I nodded. I stood, grabbing his notebook from his coat. I handed it to him. He shook his head slowly, laughing. 

“Let me see you, then,” he tilted up his chin, leaning back in his chair. He wet his bottom lip as he watched me unzip my dress. I let it slip off my shoulders, falling to the floor. I stepped out of it, and onto his lap. 

“Your turn,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, indulging in the way his eyes flicked over me. He opened the notebook, flipping through it. He frowned, muttering, turning to a different page. 

“Now that I’m reading it, I don’t like any of them,” he closed the notebook. 

I closed my eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

“You’ve got to give me more time, darling,” he raised his arm, and threw the notebook into the living room. He grinned at me, kissing over my cheeks and the tip of my nose.

“I’m very upset,” I crossed my arms, leaning back. “You promised.”

“I didn’t exactly say when I would read you the lyrics, did I?” He slapped a hand into my hip playfully, tilting his head to the side. “I’m too distracted to read, anyways.”

“You’re a complete ass,” I mumbled, biting my cheek. 

“Yeah,” he moved a hand to the side of my neck, “And all yours, too.”

“You’ll make it up to me?” I smirked, laying my forearms on his shoulders.

He pulled my hips higher on his lap, “Don’t I always?”

-> next (13)

[bakerstreethound]

Give Me One More Chance

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x reader

Warnings: angst NO comfort

Summary: How many chances is enough? For you, you’ve reached your breaking point and break the news to Sherlock after feeling neglected in an on again off again relationship with him, if that’s even what you can call it. 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Well, I hope you’re buckled up and ready for an angst adventure. I sort of imagined this having potential as an older teen (18/19) Sherlock and reader or them possibly both in their early twenties (21/22) so take that as you will. Thank you for the request @zombiesnips-blog​ I hope you and everyone else enjoys! As always comments and reblogs are most appreciated! This wasn’t beta read so I apologize in advance for any errors. Graphic is by @firefly-graphics​

The phone in your hands shook, you inhaled deeply, annoyed at the person on the end of the phone who undoubtedly forgot to pick you up from the library where you studied for hours upon end, where you were supposed to study with him. You didn’t want to be disappointed but it crept inside you still, lying upon you like a fever, your heart pulsing in kind. How many times were you supposed to forgive him? All the excuses you tried to conjure up did nothing, and you fall further into your well, filled by too many tears you shed. 

You set your mobile down, fiddling wth your hair before settling on the couch, flipping through a dozen channels or so before settling on one of your favorite movies that happened to be on. You try to let your mind numb that is until your apartment door slammed, the footfalls of a familiar gait pounding up the landing. Your heart lurched. It couldn’t possibly be him. 

At least he had the courtesy to knock but you still don’t want to get up, not in the state you’re in buried anger threatening to rise over the surface spilling venom in its wake. However, your body seemed to have other plans and you found yourself walking over and turning the knob, your gaze transfixed on brilliant, intelligent sapphire eyes. 

“Sherlock?” 

He pushed open the door further, shutting it without a word, brushing his hand against yours before pressing his lips against it, the tenderness causing your heart to ache. "Apologies, traffic took longer than expected it's rush hour and I-"

"And you what, just so happened to forget to call?" Bitterness fell from your tongue, try as you may to quell it and oh how you hated it when Sherlock’s cheek twitched, eyes blinking in bewilderment. 

"I tried-" 

“I don’t want to hear anymore excuses Sherlock. I’m tired of this, the constant back and forth, you disappearing for days on end, making me think you’re dead and you barely answer my texts! I understand your work, internship, whatever the bloody hell has you galivanting through London is important, but don’t I matter? How can I possibly compete with your work?”

His stare only added fuel to the fire, showing barely a hint of remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. He swallowed, his lips shaping into words that never took flight, illuminating his internal struggle. You didn’t ever want it to come to this, but sometimes you had to take matters into your own hands. 

“How am I supposed to ask for your forgiveness? Do you want me to crawl on my hands and knees begging you to stay?” He inquired, beginning to circle around you like a vulture, unsure what to make of the situation. You tried not to meet his gaze again, for you knew you’d be doomed, falling further in an instant, loosing your heart all over again. 

Who were you kidding, you’d lost it months ago. 

You scoffed, “I clearly don’t see the point since you’ve made it obvious you don’t care anymore. Perhaps I stopped caring months ago, but I gradually gained clarity. Is there something you’re not telling me?” He took a step closer, piercing gaze meeting yours, and your throat went dry. You could smell him, the intoxicating warmth of him, his very essence, leaving you gasping, wanting him and only him, yet you somehow find it in the rapidly diminishing space between you to continue, “Were you never ready to be with me? I was terrified too, Sherlock but I thought we had- hell I don’t know what we are anymore. I can’t take this-” 

Soft familiar lips collided with yours, muffling your protests, his body absorbing you, molding you together as one despite your mind’s reeling protests. Oh, how easy it was to fall back into him, such a familiar pattern, his fingers teasing along your lower back, your hands tangled in is beautiful mass of curly hair. It’s electrifying, how you want to fall back but you can’t that was the way it happened last time when you vowed to yourself it was his last chance. 

When you pulled away a fraction, foreheads still touching, hands tangled in his hair, you tugged on them gently, earning a groan from his plump parted lips. 

“John told me you’d break my heart,” he all but whispered, leaning in to your touch, your familiarity, allowing himself denial of his reality for once. If only he could turn back time, but he knew fate was never so kind. It did not bode well to mingle in its affairs. If only he could take away the words you spoke, a silent thread unwinding, shriveling fast, finally cut with your words, sealing both his fate and yours. 

“Funny because my friends told me you’d break mine. It was only a matter of time, but sometimes you made me question if I had one at all. Sometimes I wonder if you ever had one to give me, my boy.” 

Wounded resignation lite up in his eyes, but he swallowed, taking a step away and yet, and yet, you reach out again, grasping the lapels of his beautiful coat, regret and sorrow streaming from your eyes. How could you have made this any easier? It was always going to be a heard break, but you knew you deserved better, he wasn’t good for you and you couldn’t keep waiting around, tired of the waiting, wondering, and wishing. It still didn’t make the growing sorrow in your body from weighing you down, threatening to drag you down into the deepest depths of the ocean. 

“You know we weren’t good for each other and you still have other ventures ahead of you. I’m sure you’ll find something more worth your while.” You pushed back the tears through it all, regret heavy in your hands as you released him from your embrace, but his hands remained on your waist, lip quivering, eyes wide a haunted look sprouting from within as if a ghost had now infiltrated his body. When he parted, it took all your resolve not to pull him back but the invisible thread was broken, all warmth ceasing to exist when he parts, shutting the door, turning around one last time to face you. 

“You always had a beautiful smile,” he said quietly and that was it. You fell to the floor on your knees, grasping at your chest, heaving gasping out the tears. Out your window you still could see him walking down past your door, into the streets beyond. 

It’s bittersweet, cruel of you to do it to yourself, memorizing his silhouette for the last time, the way it morphed into the shadows, making you selfishly wish the possibility of seeing it for one more time, relishing the rush of adrenaline that followed, the racing of your heart when he stood near to you, kissing you o so softly as if you are the only thing in his universe. Perhaps you were, but certainly not in this one, for fate was cureler rather than kind. You regret not being able to hold his hand, taste those adoring lips of his…now you can but only in your dreams

******

[thatstrangegiiirrlll]

If you’re sick, I’m sick

Chishiya ✨IMAGINE✨

Hola everyone! I’m coming back to Tumblr with a bang <3 This is a little fluffy, cutesy, sweet imagine I wrote that I just find so adorable and a breath of fresh air. Because as much as I love me some smut and erotic imagines, I love the fluffy and light ones just as much. Variety, ya know?

⭐️SUMMARY: Shuntaro Chishiya is sick with a common cold and has no one to look after him…except you, that is. After practically telling you he doesn’t want you coming over in worry you’ll also contract the cold, you remain stubborn — ignoring his order and coming over anyway.

“Alright. Fine.” Chishiya sighs deeply over the phone, finally caving into your persistent begging. “But if you get sick that’s on you.”

It takes everything in you to not reveal the excitement in your voice when he says this. He’s currently not feeling well with a cold, insisting you stay put at home today. As hardheaded as you are, you can’t even fathom why he thought that would work.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

You approach his front doorstep, the cold medicine and okayu you made for him in hand. Right as you’re about to ring the doorbell, the door opens, revealing a small framed, baby-faced man. He’s wearing a dark purple long sleeve shirt and light grey sweatpants. Whilst analyzing his outfit, you look down to see he’s sporting some fuzzy socks. Cute.

Walking inside, you hand Chishiya the okayu and cold medicine before taking your shoes off at the door and putting them into the glass organizer that he has there.

He sets the bag down onto his dining room table and walks back over to the sofa, slouching down lazily into it. You could almost laugh at how small he looks in comparison to the sofa. Almost everything he does is cute to you. He really doesn’t even have to try.

You walk into the dining room, removing the okayu from the bag, taking it to the kitchen to heat up.

“You dyed your hair back black?” You ask him, only just now taking notice of the change. You honestly prefer him in his naturally black hair — it favors his features better.

He nods, now laid all the way down flat onto the couch, arms crossed and tucked comfortably. “Yeah. Got a little sick of the platinum.”

Smiling, you blush at his voice, something about the tired, raspiness of it giving you butterflies. A couple minutes pass and the okayu is nice and hot by the time you take it out the warmer. You grab him a spoon and head towards the sofa.

“Scooch over so I can sit down, Chishiya,” you say, slightly annoyed that he’s taken up all room on the sofa. Where will you sit with him hogging up the whole space?

He looks from the television to you and shrugs suggestively. “Just sit down, y/n.”

Squinting in confusion, your eyes widen and you blush when you comprehend what he means.

“Okay…” You crawl on top of his relaxed and laid out body, your legs on either side of his pelvis. The warmth feels nice as you situate your body into the intimate position. You get shy realizing you’re practically sitting on his dick through your clothes, but try to ignore it as you get the okayu ready to feed to him.

“Here,” you tell him, bringing the spoon up to his mouth as you cup his chin.

Quirking up an eyebrow but asking no questions, he opens his mouth obediently and takes the porridge in. You watch, a bit too excited as he chews it with no fuss.

“Thanks,” he says, smirking as you wipe some remaining porridge from his lips with your thumb. You nod, blowing on another spoon full and feeding it to him like a caring nurse. You and Chishiya are very close friends — no labels yet. No boyfriend this or girlfriend that. But the two of you definitely have chemistry: a peck on the cheek here, hugging and maybe even a little cuddling sometimes. Although he’s rarely overly touchy with anyone.

But seeing him like this — sick with a cold, dark circles, black hair, and extremely kissable pink lips and his husky, raspy voice — all of it is making you feel things inside. Not to mention, sitting on top of him like this isn’t helping in soothing that feeling.

Almost as though he’s reading your mind, he takes the bowl of porridge from your hands and places it on the table by the sofa. You look at him in wonderment and roll your eyes. He brings his hands to your cheeks and squishes them as he looks at you in amusement. You blink slowly, feeling as though your stomach is going to burst from all the tingling.

Without thinking too much about it, you tell him in a hushed tone that you want to kiss him and what he responds with takes you by surprise.

“You don’t need my permission for that.” With that, he brings your face toward him gently and pecks you on the lips first, a light and friendly kiss. Not even a second after that, he deepens the kiss, his mouth and tongue warm and soft. You bite his lower lip tenderly and arch your back when his hands come down to rub your sides and back affectionately.

Some minutes pass by, then an hour of passionate and loving making out. A random thought pops into your mind:

“I’m definitely gonna get sick now,” you tell him, chuckling. But you don’t care. This is way too worth it. “If you’re sick, I’m sick I guess.”

He heaves out a laugh, his arms snuggled securely around your waist. “I mean, hey… that’s the chance you took, huh? Spending your Saturday afternoon with a sick dude.”

You extend your body out on top of him, wrapping your arm around his small frame. “What can I say? I like taking care of you in this vulnerable state. The making out is just a bonus.”

Omg. This is too cute guys. I don’t know what it is about taking care of a cute, sick guy that sounds so ideal but it just does. And honestly I picture Chishiya being just like this, ya know? No against it at all. Kind of a passive acceptance of someone wanting to baby him and take care of him. 🤍 (ALSO LOOKIE AT THE PICTURE OF HIM ABOVE!!!! HES SO FUCKING CUTE YALL I CANT)

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Luck of the drink - SasuHina Month Day 4

The original prompt was something along the lines of 'You don't know my order, but damn you made it correctly' and this happened.

Day 4 | Día 4

“Knowing their favorite drink” | “Conocer su bebida     favorita”

“First touch” | “Primer roce”

 “Come on!”

Hinata struggled to keep up with Ino’s quick steps, trying to figure out how she could move so quick in heels.

“Ino-chan, I don’t even like coffee.”

“Yeah, because you’re so insanely picky about the flavour.”

She wasn’t wrong. Hinata preferred sweet coffees, but half the time it meant the syrups overpowered any coffee taste at all and just tasted like concentrate. Half the time she stuck to teas but with long days at her family’s company, the one in charge of fundraising and the such, coffee was what she needed to get through the day. Ino was supposed to be helping her finalize floral centre pieces for their company donor dinner and now she was being dragged in the opposite direction.

“This guy, is like a god. Knows just what you like and makes it just how you’d imagine. Doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as hell.”

“I’m sure Sai would love to hear that.” she replied sarcastically.

“Well, they’ve both got pale skin and dark hair, so clearly I have a type.”

Hinata rolled her eyes, giving in. She supposed as long as she got coffee at the end, she shouldn’t complain. 

The coffee shop was called Cat’s Flame. It was a darker than most chain coffee shops but it was cosy with all the faded couches, shelves of books to borrow or buy when reading and little nooks of tables for studying. Behind the register was a guy about their age. He seemed familiar, though she couldn’t tell with his long hair half covered by a slouch beanie. He had snake bites and was more focused on his phone screen than Ino approaching him.

“Sasuke!” Dark eyes looked up, cheek smooshed against his hand and unmoving as Ino skipped over. “My regular please. And this is Hinata! My best friend since middle school. I’m working with her family for their doner dinner. Could you make a cup for her?”

Sasuke dropped his phone on the counter, slouching up much like a cat, though a snake felt more accurate.

“I didn’t tell him what I want.” Hinata whispered, watching him move around the machines, grinding beans and setting milk to be foamed.

“Relax, he knows what he’s doing.” Ino reassured. “Ok, so remind me of colours for the event. Please tell me it’s not the same boring black and white.”

Distracted with event details, she forgot about Sasuke making his mystery drinks, at least until he slid over two to go cups, Ino’s name on one.

“700 yen.” he announced, picking his phone up again and shoving the card reader closer as he slouched down again.

“But what if I don’t like it?” Hinata asked, still not touching her cup, while Ino scooped hers up, taking the top off the blow it cool.

“You gonna drink it before you judge?” Sasuke said, fixing his hand to hold up his head while still fixed on his phone.

Huffing, she took the cup, doing the same as Ino to cool it before taking a small sip. It was sweet, the slight bitterness of the coffee mixing perfectly. For some reason, it reminded her of breakfast.

“Not so bad now huh? 700 yen.”

“I got it. If you start with him, you’ll never stop.” Ino said, tapping her phone on the card reader. “Thanks Sasuke!”

He didn’t reply as Ino dragged them out, still focused on his phone.

“He’s so rude!” Hinata couldn’t help but blurt out once they were a distance away. She looked at Ino like she was crazy when she burst into laughter.

“That’s how he is. I knew him in college and I crushed so hard. He turned me down and called me annoying all in one sentence. He just doesn’t do well with people. He reacts with rudeness rather than just stay silent. But it’s good right?”

As annoyed as she was by his behaviour, Ino was right. It was good.

“Come on. If we take any longer, all the fresh flowers for mock ups will be gone.”

                                _________________

With a week before the dinner, donors throwing their demands at her, not to mention needing to chase her father down to get answers from him, Hinata felt herself crashing. Hanabi was helping, no doubt because of this being their bigger dinner of the year and took her break by ordering coffee for them.

“I think you’ll like it.” she promised, going over to where Hinata stood attempting to fix the seating chart thanks to another petty argument that happened to spark a rivalry between two donors. “Konohamaru suggested the place. Said his cousin goes there all the time.”

“What did you get me?”

“You’ll see. The barista won’t mess up.”

Hearing that reminded her of Sasuke. The coffee had been good, just the right amount of espresso to help her through the day so by the time the crash happened, she was home. She’d be tempted to go back had it not been for his behaviour. He seemed so unenthused to be there, if they fact he was staring more at his phone than anything else was the best proof to go by. He had a comment or a reply for anything, it was insane. It was also insane how much it bothered her. She delt with petty and quick to anger people all the time, not to mention those who looked like doing their job drained them of every ounce of happiness they had. So why did the way he act bother her?

Coffee finally arrived by the time she and Hanabi had figured out how to seat everyone without casualties. She knew her father wouldn’t be happy about some of the groupings, but if he didn’t want a bloodbath on his hands, he’d have to deal with it. A knock on the door had Hanabi sprint for it, no doubt dying for her drink after the amount of thinking they had to do.

“Delivery from Cat’s Flame.” a very familiar bored voice announced.

Sasuke stood at the door, small traveling case in hand. He held it as he unzipped it, handing Hanabi one cup and walked in to hand Hinata the other. He also handed her a mildly heavy paper bag, smelling of pastries. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she was until she smelled the sugar wafting off of it.

“Yum. what is this? It’s amazing.” Hanabi asked, stealing the bag and heading over to the couch in Hinata’s office

“Cortado with vanilla syrup.” Sasuke sounded just as bored as the last time she’d seen him. He wasn’t wearing a beanie this time, his long hair pulled back into a messy half bun. It exposed the earrings that lined his ears.

Hinata took a sip of her coffee, expecting it to be the same sweet drink, which she later realised had been maple syrup. But it was the familiar taste of a London Fog, which while technically coffee, was made with tea. But this had something extra.

“Did you put an extra shot in this?” she felt impressed when Sasuke nodded, focused of pulling something from his pocket. The coffee and tea taste weren’t a weird mix. It was pleasant with the right amount of sweetness. He’d done it again.

“Receipt. Have a nice day.” the minute she took the paper, he turned, pulling his phone out and left without a care.

Seriously, did this guy have any care for anything?

“He was cute.” Hanabi was halfway through a Bear claw.

“He’s so rude. Ino took me to the cafe before. He was focused on his phone pretty much the whole time. And he was so sarcastic and rude.” she still gratefully drank the coffee. The extra shot of espresso was going to be exactly what she needed to get through the day.

“Still cute. Be honest, you’d love to be that uncaring about things.” 

Working for her family would have been fine had it not been for their strictness over everything. The Hyuuga family was perfect to everyone, except those in it. She wasn’t about to admit her sister was right. She wanted to rebel just as much as the younger generation of their family. That didn’t mean she’d want to be like Sasuke. There was a difference between letting go and toeing the line of being let go.

                                           ____________________

The donor dinner, so far, was a success. She’d managed to get ahead of 3 fights, 2 tantrums from full grown adults and a nitpicky guest. She deserved a drink, even more so after seeing the Otsutsuki family arrive. They’d been trying to get her father to marry her to their only son, Toneri, since the families started working together. She dodged a rather tall guest and headed to the bar when she was stopped.

“Hinata-san! It’s so good to see you.” Uchiha Mikoto, wife to the head of the family kindly greeted her. “You did an amazing job as usual. The flowers look spectacular. Was it the Yamanaka family again?”

“It was. Can I get you another drink?” Hinata asked, noticing her near empty glass.

“Oh, that’s alright. My son is grabbing me one. In fact, I don’t know if you’ve met him.”

“Itachi? He came to the last silent auction we had.” she didn’t forget the kind and quiet heir to the Uchiha family. He and Neji had been running circles around each other talking about whatever had gotten them talking.

“No, no. Not Itachi. My youngest son. Oh, there he is now, Sasuke!”

Turning, Hinata felt her face flush red in embarrassment and shock when Sasuke, the same barista who’d been serving her the exact drink she needed, eased his way through the crowd to them. His hair was styled out of his face, though all his piercings were sitting in place. He handed one of the glasses to his mom, taking her other one and sipping from that. The other glass in his hand was untouched until he handed it to her. Hinata decided to sip it and sure enough, whatever skill he had with coffee translated into alcohol as well. Soda water, grapefruit and some mix of other syrups and gin. Her usual mix of drinks; strong enough to give her a buzz, but diluted enough to help her get through the rest of the party without issue. How was he this good?

“Sasuke works with his older cousin Shisui at his coffee shop. The family business never kept his attention, so between his fencing competitions, he works there. He represents Japan in the Olympics on the team.” she gushed.

“Oh?”

“Though at least we know when he retires, he’ll have a good job. His accuracy in guessing a person’s preferred drink is amazing.”

Sasuke gave Hinata this smug smile, that caused her to pout. He was teasing her, she knew it.

“Maybe you’d be interested in seeing me prove myself on Friday, at the cafe before opening?”

Was…he asking her out? She should have asked what was going on, why he was so suddenly interested but she found herself agreeing. The moment, she had a chance, she found Ino, hoping she’d get sense talked into her to cancel.

“Ooh, he finally asked?” Ino interrupted once she told her that Sasuke was here.

“Finally asked what?”

“Asked you out? He called after I took you to the cafe and was asking quite a number of questions about you. He sounded like Sai.”

Ino’s boyfriend was completely in love with her, even with his lack of understanding emotions. If Sasuke was like him…well, guess she’d have to find out on Friday, before the shop opened.

[coldhndss]

──★ ˙ ̟ !! Blue Lock Matchup No.2 Anon whose MBTI is INTP

Hello!

Reading your request, I actually had a somewhat hard time matching you to a person who suits the things you outlined.

However, after a ton of deciding, I ended up matching you to Eita Otoya!

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “..my hobbies are reading, playing video games and watching yt vids like asmrs, mukbangs, Danny Gonzales.”

Otoya comes off as a generally chill kind of person, usually making underhanded jokes or side comments from time to time. I know this probably sounds kind of silly, but the way you type sort of gave me that type of vibe in a way. I can definitely see you and Otoya playing some video games together. Probably something like Mario Kart where your insistence that “You’ll beat him” fires him up, but he still ends up losing somehow.

Calmer things like casual YouTube viewing would be suitable for you both, but I can’t really imagine Otoya watching ASMR. Instead, I have a feeling that he would agree to watch some things with you. You decide to watch ASMR to wind down, so you put it on the TV, slouching on the couch with a blanket over you. He comes and sits next to you, and scrolls on his phone for a bit, before putting it down when he notices you’ve fallen asleep. After about an hour, you wake up to him nonchalantly watching UFC compilations with phonk music playing behind the video. 

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “ I’m also introverted but I still chat and joke with others just with no deep connection whatsoever and I’m usually alone and I’m content with such….”

I cut off the last part where you spoke briefly about how you feel about this, since I’m not sure if you’d like it out there :3

Though, I think this sort of distanced way of not letting your connections travel deep is sort of similar with (this is completely my opinion) Otoya’s way of making friends and so, the two of you would feel better talking to each other instead of other people. I’d imagine him as the type to have friends, but also have that one person that’s closer to them than a friend is, with that person being you. In a school setting, I can’t help imagine that the two of you would be super close friends, and when one of your classmates asks if you have a crush on him, you brush it off – but it lingers at the back of your mind for the rest of the day. You end up telling him about it, and he just stares at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, saying:

“You mean to tell me you don’t have a crush on me?”  

Years later and he still picks on you for it.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I have a more of a casual style, not too feminine nor masc.”

This probably doesn’t sound like anything important to you, but I feel like a casual-esque dressing style matches nicely with the sort of street-ish style that Otoya wears. The two of you may even go shopping sometimes, and he’d pick out something for you to wear for fun. Despite it not being your style, much to his surprise, you end up wearing it a lot. 

I’m also not sure why, but I feel like he’d take aesthetically pleasing photos with you (or make you take them for him so he can post them Instagram with a corny caption).  But when you ask him to take a photo for you of yourself, he’ll point the back camera at you, flip the front camera to face him, and take photos of his face while you pose. He’d also definitely take photos of you during your least flattering moments, e.g., when you wake up, while you’re eating, catching you off guard at multiple instances just so he can take a photo that he claims is “super cute” (he’d set it as his lock screen). Despite this, he’ll like all your photos on Instagram and comment something under every single post. He also has some of your prettiest photos taken by himself, saved on his camera roll in a specific folder named ‘👌🏻’.

[urdinosaurs]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 ࿐ྂ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

⇢ PROMPT: i saw your comment @hoesindifferentshows talking about "Oh my god imagine sucking his dick and he lays his head back and takes a drag from his blunt 🥹"

⇢ WARNINGS: blowjob, no p in v, cum eating, throat fucking, hobie is just really high while getting his dick sucked,

you know what? you're right. you're so right it's almost unbelievable. from this post here

hobie doesn't smoke fags often. it just isn't his thing. he's a weed person, gets it from his bandmates, who regularly buy. it's usually after shows that he and his band smoke a couple of joints, talk about the show, or throw around ideas for the next. it's a good way to end off the night, and usually, he goes home with a small baggy and some rolling paper he bought off them.

tonight's one of those nights he decides to indulge himself after a long day and rolls a blunt. it's a process he's perfected after so long of doing, and soon enough, he's bringing the lighter to his lips, taking a slow drag, savoring it, and falling back into the cushions with his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

the lighter falls back on the table, and languidly he stares up at the ceiling, pushing the smoke past his lips in a thin stream before letting it fan out above him. the hand with the blunt between his fingers rests on the back of the sofa, the other reaching down to gently stroke the top of your head. he caresses the side of your face in reassurance and encouragement, the cold metal of his many stacked rings cooling your flushed skin.

his hips buck into your mouth with a satisfied grunt at a particularly sensational twist of your soft hand around his dick, and he can feel your smile at his reaction when you press a feather-light kiss to the tip. a groan reverberates from the back of his throat at the sensation.

hobie takes another drag, his eyes twisting shut in pleasure as your jaw starts to move, head bobbing up and down his pulsating shaft. the feeling of your lips wrapped around him is intensified by the smoke, his cock much more sensitive to your ministrations than usual, which is why it jumps when your tongue slides across the underside, whimpers tearing from his throat.

"ya', just like that, luv, too good wit' it." hobie's head falls back, sighing as his lips wrap around the stick, fingers pinching it before leaning forward, tapping the ashes into the tray. he slumps back, relaxing further into the wet heat of your mouth, the weed unwinding his body until he's a mess of loose limbs. hobie breathes more of the joint, slouching further into the couch, his legs spreading with his airy headspace.

"atta girl. takin' it so good, usin' your mouth like it's 'posed to be used." his tongue flicks out of his jaws to wet his lips, the appendage flashing with his silver piercing in the moonlight.

his head lolls back, lips parted as he blows a ring, savoring the feeling of your throat constricting around him. he takes another hit, flicking it into the ashtray as he decides he's done with the slow tempo you've set, and takes his thick fingers to grab the back of your head and push you further down on his cock.

your throat convulses momentarily as you adjust to the rhythm change, and his hips jerk off the couch, the grip tightening around your hair as he moans. the tight heat of your esophagus constricting has his pace stuttering, more precum spilling down it.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he curses before his hand relaxes, his hips sloppily thrust up into your throat, chasing his high the only way he could with his clouded mind. he's getting himself more worked up, drawing more noises out of you, only for them to be muffled by his dick down your throat. drool leaks from the corners of your mouth, unable to be held in with the force of his thrusts. hobie builds a fast, messy, and sloppy pace, his focus drifting but still high enough to enhance and quicken his release.

"that's it, 'bout to cum. shit- you're a fuckin' dream. 'm gonna make a mess of your throat," slurred words spew out of his mouth just as his cum spills down your throat. his back arches, and a low moan escapes him as pure euphoria surges through his veins like a continuous pulse of electricity. slipping back into the cushions, you prolong his orgasm with clever flicks and strokes of your tongue, riding his release in a way he never has before, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

he lets go of your head, his tilted back while he catches his breath. he feels you gently leave him, and his spent cock bobs against his stomach. his neck rolls around to look down at you. his brown eyes are rimmed with a light shade of red, unfocused and hazy with arousal.

"'i'd reckon that's 'bout the best orgasm i've ever 'ad, luv." he lazily grins, hands moving from your hair to travel down your skin layered in a thin sheen of sweat, cupping your face in appreciation. his thumb rubs tenderly down your features, admiring you before tapping his lap.

his thighs spread, making room as you climb on top of him, resting a hand on his chest to steady yourself. he's already hard again when you brush up against him. his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, pulling another blunt from where it sat next to the ashtray.

ahh, i hope you guys saw that the title was inspired by the k.flay song! i promise i'm not a fake fan by using her most popular song :(

"ready for round two?"

[captainstevenjohnstonme]

Olivetti's Revenge

World renowned crime and suspense author who has 29 New York Times bestsellers to his name and eight of his novels have been adapted to the silver screen with the latest 'Death Before Awakening' winning an Oscar for best screenplay.

But that was four years ago.

Today Victor is sitting behind his desk at his private hideaway outside of Springfield Virginia, the perfect place to get away to and get some writing done but now after spending six weeks at his retreat Victor hasn't written a single word.

The 59 year old thrice married author has a bad case of writers block and now he is at his wits end and has turned to bourbon and pills in an attempt to gain some inspiration but so far all he has achieved is diddly squat.

Victor who is tall and lean with jet black hair and in the past has been mistaken for the B actor George Hamilton is desperate for a cure for his writers block so he sits back down opens his laptop and there he sits for two hours but still no words will come.

Standing Victor pours himself a triple shot of bourbon than takes the bottle in the living room where he slouches on a couch a broken man.

After checking his cell phone he discovers that his publisher has sent a dozen texts reminding him that his new novel is long overdue.

Victor throws the phone across the room, grabs the bottle of booze and goes into his bedroom to start yet another bender.

When he wakes the next morning Victor enters the bathroom he takes a few pills that his doctor said would take the edge off and after he brushes his teeth to freshen up he sees his reflection in the mirror and he doesn't recognize the person who stares back at him.

He rubs his hands over his face muttering 'Where have all the words gone?'

Around lunchtime Victor decides to drive into town to buy some supplies to escape the confines of the cabin plus some fresh air might just kickstart his imagination.

As he drives his BMW towards Springfield he turns on the radio and for a while he worries drift away as he listens to Tom Petty on the radio but his mind soon drifts back to yesterday when he read the last text from his publisher 'Dear Victor this is your final warning, if we don't receive a transcript of your new book within seven days you will be in breach of contract therefore we will begin legal proceedings to recover the five million dollars that we gave you in advance.'

As he continues to drive now realizes that he made a grave mistake when he fired his agent a month ago 'I will give David a call and tell him to get back to work ASAP.'

When he reaches his destination Victor walks into the general store where he is greeted by the owner Albert Finnegan who wouldn't look out of place in an old black & white cowboy movie.

'Good afternoon Mister Bradstreet, how is your new book coming along?'

Victor is in no mood for chit chat and so after giving Albert a curt nod he grabs a trolley and fills it with bread milk butter eggs and of course three bottles of bourbon.

After throwing some bacon canned beans and mac and cheese he spots an interesting item.

Sitting on a rickety old table is an ancient Olivetti typewriter.

Victor strokes the machine like a teenager boy in lust, he must have this typewriter 'Albert how much for the Olivetti and do you have any paper for it?

Sure do Mister Bradstreet for you the machine will set you back five green backs plus I will throw in four reams of paper if you take that thing out of here.'

Something in Alberts voice troubles Victor but the old man behind the counter seems unconcerned but for a second there Albert sounded like he was afraid of the old Olivetti.

Back at the cabin Victor packs away his grocery items then go back outside to get the typewriter but when he opens the rear door the Olivetti isn't there, now it sits proudly on the front passenger seat 'I could have sworn that I put it on the back seat so how does a typewriter change seats.?'

Also no longer is the Olivetti an old beat up typewriter covered in dust but to Victor's astonishment the Olivetti looks fresh off the production line, light green in color with shiny chrome edging.

With some trepidation Victor carries the typewriter inside and places it on the kitchen table than he feeds a few sheets of paper into the machine and types a title that has been haunting him for months 'Graves of the Beloved' and settles back to begin writing his new novel but after fifteen Victor hasn't typed a single word, he throws his head back and howls at the moon than the frustrated author starts to cry.

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

Victor is taken by surprise by the sound of the typewriter's keys typing of its own accord at about 100 words a minute.

He feeds in sheet after sheet of paper into the Olivetti for over three hours until the keys grow silent.

Victor the final page and reads the words THE END, the end of what Victor muses as he adds the final page to the neat pile on the table and than he begins to read.

After an hour Victor stops reading and screams out in jubilation

'Holy fucking shit this is good, I haven't written this well for years.'

He gathers up the manuscript and quickly drives into town and posts the manuscript to his agent in Los Angeles than he walks across the road to the general store to buy some more paper for the hungry Olivetti.

He places ten reams of paper on the counter and tells Albert to order a truck load of more paper because 'I'm on a roll and I don't know when I'm gonna stop.'

Albert once again gives Victor a few nervous glances and starts to say something but stops himself 'It's alright you obviously have something on your mind so what is it?'

'Well Mister Bradstreet sorry but this will sound strange but I swear that when I went to clean the typewriter just after I received and again this is true, that motherfucking Olivetti lunged forward and tried to bite me.'

Victor is a little unnerved because he saw with his own eyes the machine typing of its own accord but he waves the concerns away 'A bestseller is still a bestseller, it doesn't really matter where it came from.'

The next few days are uneventful, Victor in a happy mood cleans up the cabin and even goes outside to give the garden some attention.

Every now and then he would walk into the kitchen and look at the typewriter but it remained silent.

On Thursday afternoon he received an email from his agent David Sachs 'Congratulations Victor 'Graves of the Beloved' is sure to hit the best seller list when it comes out.'

'I will send it to Crondon Press who will be very pleased I am sure.'

'Great work Victor, keep up the good work.'

Victor beams with pride and looks at the typewriter.

The typewriter looks back.

When it is released in the fall 'Graves of the Beloved is an instant bestseller worldwide and Victor does the talk show circuit where he soaks up all the praise and applause.

Four months later Victor is growing tired of all the parties and dealing with the leeches who hang around trying to get a piece of the action so he loads up his BMW and drives back to his cabin in rural Virginia.

When walks into the cabin the first thing he does is feed in a sheet of paper into the Olivetti expecting it to start typing away but all he hears is dead silence.

After unloading the car and taking a quick shower Victor walks into the kitchen where he sees a blank page.

Mighty pissed off at this stage Victor types 'Come on you fucker, write me another bestseller or I will throw you in the trash can.'

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

Why you ungrateful piece of shit, I have saved your ass and put you back on the bestseller list and do I get a simple thank you? No all you do is abuse and threaten my existence so i am telling you now that unless you treat me kindly and feed me on a regular basis only one of us will survive the night and buddy boy it won't be you so feed me NOW.

Victor types 'Feed you what?'

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

BLOOD I crave your blood, so grab a knife from a drawer slice open a wrist and feed me BLOOD.

Vicor reads what the Olivetti typed and recoils in horror but after a few minutes he regains his composure, so he opens the top drawer grabs a knife pricks the top of a finger and squeezes a few drops of blood in the mechanism.

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

What in the fuck? I don't want an entree I want the main course so feed me well or face the consequences.

Victor takes a deep breath rolls up his sleeve and opens up his left wrist,

His blood flows deep into the Olivetti who swallowed it down in satisfaction.

Victor can feel his legs buckle as he listens to the typewriter digest his blood.

He quickly applies a pressure bandage to the wound and takes a seat before he falls down a mere two feet from the typewriter.

When he notices a few drops of his blood on the page within the machine he comes to a quick decision, it is great to be a popular novelist but he is damned if he will kill himself just to satisfy the blood of a chunk of metal so he sneaks up behind the typewriter, picks it up and takes it out to the back yard.

Finding a bottle of lighter fluid in the shed he squirts the liquid all over the typewriter and sets it alight.

'Burn Olivetti Burn.'

Back inside Victor is happy that he is now free from the blood sucking machine so to celebrate he pours himself a generous shot of bourbon than takes a seat on his favorite couch and picks up a pen and a writing pad confident that the words will soon start to flow.

But after an hour Victor realizes that his nasty case of writers block might be here to stay so he grabs the bottle of bourbon and walks out to the back door and looks at the Olivetti still on fire and a part of him wants to race out and pull the typewriter from the flames but instead he locks the back door goes upstairs and after brushing his teeth a strangely calm Victor Bradstreet climbs into bed to sleep.

But an hour later

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

Victor wakes so suddenly he almost falls out of his bed.

Was that really the sound of the typewriter that woke me up?

Putting on his dressing gown he walks down the stairs in dreed.

Instantly the smell of burnt metal hits his nostrils.

Victor takes a peek around the kitchen door frame and his eyes open wide in fright because sitting on the table is a twisted burnt Olivetti typewriter.

One look is all that Victor needs, he runs into the living room grabs the car keys and is only a few feet from freedom when his left ankle is snagged by a typewriter ribbon that quickly pulls him back into the kitchen.

kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack kerclack

I warned you Victor but you chose to disobey me so now you have left me no chose Goodby Victor.

Before he can react another ribbon shoots out from the Olivetti and wraps itself around Victors throat and squeeze tight and the terrified writer is pulled towards the typewriter head first.

For the next few days The Olivetti feasts on Victors remains leaving not a shred of evidence behind.

Even the blood soaked sheet of paper is swallowed leaving a pristine kitchen and a shiny new Olivetti typewriter sitting on the table waiting patiently for the police to arrive.

THE END

Part Two coming soon.

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer, ch 16 posted, 6-17-23)

Theodred's adventures as he travels with Freahelm, trying to find a direction for his life.  (Adventure, Drama, Angst, Romance, Family, Humor) (19 chapter story)

 Chapter 16  -  (begins July, 45 IV)

Theodred flung himself onto the couch and slouched sullenly down, saying, “I hope your daughter was sorely punished for her misbehavior at supper last night!”

“Oh, you do, do you!” Morwen snorted.

Theodred eyed her with a scowl.  “Of course. She was quite rude to Esgalmir with her comments.  Surely you agree she should be punished, Morwen.”

Morwen cast a disapproving eye at him over her knitting, and replied reprovingly, “So now you do not find it amusing.  When she embarrasses me, and Caranhir roars with laughter, you think it is the most delightful thing in the world and so very charming.  You encourage her and praise her and, between the two of you, you do everything to teach her ill manners.  Now that it has caused you some discomfort and ill ease, you wish her reprimanded. How convenient.”

For several long moments, Theodred stared at his sister in disbelief.  Then, glaring at his brother-in-law, he exclaimed, “What have you done to my sweet, genteel sister?  She was never like this before you married her!  And she would never have turned a blind eye to such ill-mannered behavior before, even if I did deserve it!”

Caranhir chuckled and shrugged, then observed, “Children are very honest, Theodred.  Mirlas was not trying to be rude.  My behavior was more unacceptable than hers because I knew better. We have chastized her, and tried to help her understand why she should not ask such things, but other than not allowing her to eat with us, there is no way to entirely avoid such questions until she is old enough to better comprehend what should not be said. Surely Esgalmir can appreciate that and not take offense.  If she cannot, you should be grateful Mirlas frightened her away for you!”

Morwen set aside her knitting and fixed her gaze on her brother.  “More to the point, Theodred, Mirlas did not just pull that question out of the air.  Do you imagine she thinks you might marry any woman who dines in our home when you happen to also be there?  Give her more credit than that!  She sensed something between you, just as the rest of us do.  Esgalmir is special to you, whether you have acknowledged it to yourself or not.  I knew it before I ever came here.  It is in every line of your letters when you mention her.  Do you truly believe my first day in Minas Tirith I was so desperately in need of writing paper that I hurried off to a stationery store?  Or was I perhaps desperately curious to meet this woman whom my brother could not write a letter without mentioning with great fondness?”

Theodred shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unnerved by his sister’s observations, and the fact that Caranhir clearly shared her views.  Defensively, he explained, “She has been a good friend to me.  What is wrong with that?  It does not mean that I intend to marry the woman.”

Morwen raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and it was evident that his argument fell short of the mark in convincing her.  Irritatedly, he rose and glowered at the both of them.  “I am not looking for a wife just now, thank you!  Perhaps when I do, I will consider Esgalmir, but I will not be pushed into it.  After the mess I made of things with Kata, I am not anxious to–”  He cut himself off; then, fighting for control, turned on his heel and hurried out of the house.

Tears filled Morwen’s eyes. “He has my stubbornness.  Let us hope he does not hurt himself as much as I did before he allows himself to be happy.” 

Silently Caranhir moved over behind his wife, leaning down to press a kiss to her head.  “He will come around.  Give him time.  The pain is still fresh in his mind, and he does not want to repeat his mistakes, that is all.  But, eventually, his heart will not let him deny the truth.”

 continue reading on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/46771651/chapters/120883060