#much less cutting or bleaching his hair back there

[fischiee]

ok i know ive already made a post abt carwash sibs hair before but like.. the idea of carolina shaving all her hair off after her fall to make her blend in more and wash being forcibly shaved in prison and both meeting each other again with this choppy, undyed hair and reclaiming their identities and personalities outside of their trauma by finding that connection with their appearance again…

the parallel of them dying each others hair for the first time when they were kids and now helping each other do it again as a symbol that they are finally trusting each other again

[megumishotgf]

more and more (jjk mainly) fic recs (pt. iii)♡

hello and welcome to more of my fic recs!! credit to all these talented writers, pls check out their other works too!! featuring: (jjk) megumi, yuuji, satoru, suguru, toji (mha) katuski (lmao just for the one post because it NEEDED to be shared) masterlist recs pt. i pt. ii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

megumi thinks about how whipped (he is while impatiently waiting for you to text back)

fucking megumi in his baseball uniform (lengthier fic with dom! megumi... omg)

sharing a bed and cuddling (so soft i'm crying. i'm unsure if i've linked this before)

racer a.u. w/ bf megumi (in physical agony because i need this)

megumi is obsessed with yuuji's bimbo gf (i love LOVE love bimbo reader fics AHH)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

your kid shows you an ugly drawing (similar to the katsuki scenario i linked last time, so funny!!)

satoru comforts you after you have a nightmare (so fluffy and sweet... i'm bawling)

age gap w/ satoru, he teaches you to fuck (younger reader. god i love this)

satoru proposes to you :(( (i'm crying)

satoru fucking his chubby gf (help my pussy's gone crazy)

more satoru w/ chubby gf (so so much praise)

: ̗̀➛ geto suguru x reader

arguing with then fucking your ex suguru who is now a cult leader (omfg)

suguru fingers you during movie night w/ satoru and shoko (wow this fic definitely hit the spot. one of my favourites on this list)

'no one's made me cum before' (now this is relatable)

you're babysitting nanako + mimiko and are about to fuck their dad (ahhhhhh)

y/n is insecure and can't tell suguru ('it's not what he's made for' some heavy angst for the sick fucks that enjoy it)

step brother! suguru teaches you how to kiss (this damn fandom makes me read so much stepcest. disgusting! *saved immediately*)

suguru wonders if he should cut his hair (fluffy!! but the last line made me want to burst into tears!!)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

smutty fic w/ crybaby reader (it's me i'm the crybaby. this author has SO many good toji fics, i linked one of their prison bf fics last time!!)

toji is so so big but he makes it fit (major size kink!!)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

finally fucking roommate! yuuji (i am shocked this doesn't have more likes it was such an incredible read)

virgin! yuuji headcanons (he's just so whiney and such a good boy. omg i love fics where y/n is the more experienced one)

giggly sex drabble (the best type of sex i need more fics like this)

yuuji can't jack off to jennifer lawrence anymore because of YOU! (i think this initiated a yuuji phase for me...)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugou x reader

gq couples quiz w/ katsuki (i am shocked this doesn't have ten thousand likes. it's perfect the characterisation is perfect. pls check out the creator's masterlist here everything is so so good)

multiple characters (jjk drabbles)

using your safe word (satoru + suguru)

boyfriend texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge + choso)

riding, missionary or doggy? (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso. btw the right answer is doggy)

bf texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso, megumi, toge + yuuji)

unholy drabbles!! (toji, satoru + kento)

cute texts during your period!! (satoru, choso, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge)

: ̗̀➛ also multiple characters (drabbles w/ unspecified names then characters listed at the end? i don't know how to describe this sorry lol)

eating you out sloppily omg (aot + jjk + genshin + demon slayer)

tits, ass or thighs? (bleach + jjk + jjba + one piece + csm)

men that are obsessed with thick women (jjk + kny + aot + tokyo revengers)

general fucking headcanons (jjk + aot + haikyuu + tokyo revengers + genshin + sk8 + csm)

quick question!! should i still link the really successful fics / blogs (like 4k+ notes, some have up to 15k!!), as i'm sure you will have already encountered them in their respective tags? in other words, should i focus on linking fics that are less interacted with? pls let me know <3

[uravitypng]

Shameless smut for atsumu with a chubby reader?👉🏼👈🏼

you ask and i deliver <333 (because i can't help myself when it comes to writing about tsumu asdfghjk.) there may be some mistakes in this, it's only something short i wrote so hopefully you like this short shameless smut everyone !! i love atsumu with a chubby reader, here's a full fic i did with atsumu and a chubby reader (x)

"tsumu we're going to be late! our reservations are at half seven, we're meeting all the others in less than an hour." you're meant to be celebrating a msby win with the team and their partners but instead you're laying in your shared bed with your fiancee with your dress bunched up.

"don't blame me. it's yer fault for looking so hot. you can't blame me when my wife looks so good."

"wife? not yet." you try and pull your dress back down but atsumu isn't having it and swats your hand away, not letting you.

"shut yer trap, ya know what i mean." while keeping your dress bunched up he runs his large hands over your thick thighs, enjoying your soft skin underneath his hands.

you giggle at his response but your laugh is cut off as he places a kiss over your clothed clit making you gasp. " 's not my fault when you look so hot in that dress, clinging to all your curves like that. you're making me go crazy." he pulls down your underwear and throws them somewhere behind them not taking any notice to where, "we can be a little late."

"a little?" you snort as you stare of in the direction of your discarded clothes. he smirks and kisses your hip, pulling down your dress too at the top so that your tits are on display and your dress is only covering the middle part of your body. atsumu pulls down your bra and gropes your breasts.

"this is stupid," he says suddenly before he starts pulling up your dress to take it off completely and moves up to face you so he can look at how pretty you are.

"i thought you said it looked hot?" you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him.

"you do! ya just look better with it off," he smirks and allows you to pull him down. kissing messily, all tongue and teeth, clashing , right in the moment, he just can't help himself when it comes down to you and you're not one to complain just as swept up around atsumu as he is with you.

his clothes come off just as rushed as yours did, hastily pulling down his jeans and boxers all at once. he quickly threw them behind him too, getting the same treatment as your clothes did.

atsumu lifted your thigh up, resting his palm at the bottom, where he's slung your thigh over his shoulder and he's folding your body as he plunges his fat cock into you. your wet heat envelops him and he groans, "jesus baby, i love you s'much."

he ruts into you hard and fast, causing your plush body to jiggle with each thrust and atsumu doesn't know where to look, you look like a goddess in his eyes and every inch of you is perfect he just doesn't know where to look. your tummy rolls that are squished together, your breasts that freely bounce without any bra, your cute face and chubby cheeks, your pretty pussy that keeps sucking him back in with every thrust, not wanting him to go, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock with every thrust. he can't decide where to look- you're perfect.

you admire how handsome your fiancee is above you, bleached dyed hair that's became messy after him jumping on you, a light sheen of sweat covers his forehead and his lips plump, looking slightly swollen from how much you've been kissing. you reach a hand up and tug his hair, pulling him down so he's close enough for you to kiss again and you do kiss.

one hand is still holding onto your thigh occasionally squeezing the softness making him harder. his other hand is holding onto one of your hands, fingers intertwined. "love you too 'tsumu!" you moan and you're gripping onto his hand even tighter.

you turn up to dinner late, very late.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Johan Seong for the first time: J-High

G/N. Soft because he deserves it. Can be platonic or romantic. Canon compliant. Post 517. Masterlists

The new guy in your class seems kinda important.

Half the school appeared to be waiting for him on his first day of enrollment, cooing over how sweet he looks in his new uniform as if there was already extensive history there.

You paid him no mind until he was introduced as the new student in your class.

Zack Lee is particularly distressed that he didn't join the Fashion department. He's started hanging outside your classroom most mornings trying to convince him to change vocation before eventually being dragged away by Mira Kim with promises to catch up at lunch.

Daniel Park is less pushy, just greeting him constantly with a smile. He's a sweet kid anyway, greeting everyone and yourself kindly, but he seems especially excited to see the new addition.

As does Vasco and the rest of Burn Knuckles. It's a little unnerving to find the Architecture guys hovering around all morning and see Vasco clap him on the back and tell him he's glad he's not a bad guy anymore.

The girls in your department have taken him under their wing like some kind of stray. Eli Jang too, although the less said about that the better because his haircuts really are atrocious and you shudder to think about his bad habits being passed on to anyone.

Yours, however, aren't.

You're the top of the class and the one assigned to actually show Johan Seong the ropes.

It takes a few days for you to coax him out of his shell, finally winning him over when you show him pictures of your dogs.

You find he's a little bad tempered at first and bratty before he eventually mellows out and knows there's no malice in your words or actions. Realises you're helping him without prejudice and you screeching when he accidentally shaved the training head half bald wasn't a personal attack.

(How he managed that feat with scissors in a split second will forever remain a mystery to you.)

You show him how to hold the shears properly, resting your pinky on them for balance and control. Stress that he should take off too little rather than too much. Teach him to section hair and to angle his snips to soften the lines.

That good coverage is required for colour but you warn not to over promise and applying so much bleach that the hair turns straw-like and brittle should be avoided at all costs.

When you talk, he listens and watches silently then repeats your exact movement in a perfect imitation once you hand the tools back over to him.

You tell him he's a natural at this, after all, and he blushes.

You tell him you want to have your own hair salon one day and cheekily add that he can come work for you.

He hesitates, biting his lip and looking deep in thought, before he tells you that his mom has a hair salon too. That she is the only person who has ever cut his hair.

With a shy smile, he invites you to visit with him one day and you happily agree.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik admires John.

cw: possessive Nikolai; sexual content at the end.

Nik didn't much like festive parties. He wasn't a fan of Christmas anyway; a wanton celebration of capitalist greed, he had mumbled at John as they had shaved shoulder to shoulder in the hotel bathroom. John had chuckled in that low, gravelly way he did, blue eyes crinkling, and Nik had decided he would make love to him when they got back. Dressed like penguins - John's words - they had headed out into the cold night, hailing a black cab to take them to the more auspicious centre of London to an entirely different hotel. Nik had offered to purchase a suite there for the night but John had balked at the cost.

The dinner had been uneventful, with small talk and a few side glances in Nik's direction, and now they mingled around a marquee erected on the back of the hotel's gardens. A small oasis in the center of a city once choked with black smoke and industry. Nik might have admired the beautiful orangery or spent some time looking at the various art pieces in the reception hall, but he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from John.

He was, truly, magnificent.

His tailored suit fit him perfectly despite his earlier derision, from the flare of his broad shoulders to his narrow waist, the fall of his trousers hanging in well-cut, straight lines to a pair of Oxfords, buffed and polished to within an inch of their lives. Nik would expect nothing less.

John wore his dinner suit with an understated class. Not like the vacuum tight monstrosities some of the other officers were walking around in; pinched jackets around athletic waists, slim fit shirts, trousers like drainpipes, stretched so tightly that the crease down the front was invisible. They showed off a distasteful amount around the crotch, calf and thigh, in Nik's opinion; the material snagging and pulling in all the wrong places.

Why spend thousands on a suit just to look cheap? Coiffed hair, too-white teeth, synthetic, clingy fabrics; the earmarks of superficiality. Perhaps he was biased, but not a single one of those bleach-toothed smiles held a candle to the crinkled blue eyes and charmingly crooked grin of his captain.

Nik stayed at the edges of the party, propping up the bar for the most part. He watched John drift from group to group, ticking off the list of people he wanted to talk to as well as the list of people he knew he should talk to. John hated politics, but he was good at it when he had to be; attentive, diplomatic, guarded and dangerous. Nik could see it in the way he moved across the room, his shoulders squared, his head up, his chest out; a predator plucked from the wild and placed among domesticated dogs.

John's hand nursed his whiskey glass, his little finger tucked beneath it, forefinger tap-tapping in the lull of conversation like it did against the side of his M4 when he was thinking. The same John, different hostile environment.

Because they were in an outside marquee, John could smoke to keep his hands occupied, and he placed his glass aside to light up the cigar he plucked from his dinner jacket. One of the Cohibas Nik had gifted him with as an early present. He was flexing. A subtle flex, but a flex none of the less. Nik shifted his thighs apart and sat his elbows back against the bar, quietly preening. He provided for what was his. John never went without.

He watched John's lips against the cap, the soft pink slightly chapped, and tried not to get lost in the memory of what they felt like against his. The anticipation of what they would taste like as they surrendered to him later. John exhaled grey smoke to the side, a few stray whisps curling from his mouth, like a dragon with embers in its chest. He settled it through the slant of his fingers beside his whiskey glass and took another sip, those kissable lips glistening, tongue gliding over the lower in search of the last drops and Nik had to adjust in his stool.

Nik couldn't help but love it when that mouth smiled, talked, laughed, and think about kissing it, sliding his fingers behind John's neck and cupping his strong jaw in the cradle of his palm. The way John would melt against him, so pliant when touched by a man who knows how to handle him, how to pluck his strings and tease out the sweetest notes.

Because John needed a firm hand, didn't he? No matter how cleverly he disguised his rough edges with smart suits and a comb. Tonight, John was perfectly groomed, so tidy. His beard trimmed, his hair cut and brushed into place, but there was one thing John couldn't buff, polish, trim or press out of himself.

The eyes.

Nik could see their light, their fire; he watched them darken with concentration, brighten with laughter, the lines at the corners distinct, distinguished. They glittered with that same intelligence that let him slip behind his current facade, but also with cunning, and a barely suppressed wildness simmering below the surface; fierce, uncontrollable. While John might think his judgments were discreet from others, Nik could see him weighing some of the men before him and finding them wanting. It was clear in the tilt of his shoulders, the press of his lips.

They were wanting. Both in what they lacked compared to their better standing before them, and in their desire to have him. Nik wasn't the only man in the room whose gaze had lingered, admired. Coveted. Nik wanted to gouge their eyes out every time he spotted one. How arrogant they were to think they were even worthy. Their hunger was palpable. There was one watching John now. Blond hair slicked back, his hand buried deep in his pocket as his hips tilted in John's direction.

As the lounge singer they had hired for the evening picked up his microphone for his first song, Nik watched the Blond try his hand. John greeted him affably, bouncing on his toes and toasting his drink. Nik watched as the Blond introduced himself and was pleased to see no recognition on John's face. They began to discuss a recent operation; the Blond started boasting. John was unimpressed, one eyebrow cocked, and Nik smirked.

They talked for a little longer, the singer lapsing from one song into another, and the Blond touched John's elbow. Nik watched a subtle tension roll across John's shoulders, his core tightening, his fingers turning whiter around his glass, and then, with practised self control, John forced himself to back down from high alert. For the first time, those blue eyes slid across to Nik, tracing down his body to the spread of his legs, heels of his shoes hooked on the bar stool. They lingered, clearly admiring, and Nik spread himself for appraisal.

Nik saw the moment John decided to play with him. A twitch at the corner of his lips, a flash of those cunning blue eyes before they turned back to the Blond. A dangerous game. The Blond that had now become John's prey. His body language changed subtly, shoulders and chest opening up from where they had been guarded, and then John returned the touch; a brush of the fingers across the elbow. Luring him in for the kill. The Blond leaned close to talk a little quieter and John tilted his head, watching through his eyebrows, listening with a faint smile.

The lounge singer changed songs; a slow, sultry version of 'You Put A Spell On Me'. Perfect, Nik thought wryly. Because John had cast a spell on every man in the room that was inclined towards another man in their bed. Nik watched The Blond touch John again, on the hip this time, and vaguely considered how easy it would be to bundle the arrogant shit into the back of a van and cut that hand off with a machete.

Nik finished his drink and slid from the bar stool. He made his way over slowly, adjusting his cufflinks as he approached his target from behind, looming large at his back. "Ah, Nik, this is Major Dustin Houghton, Royal Anglian," John said, and Houghton startled as he looked around to see Nik standing over him, six inches taller and several miles broader. "Major, this is Nikolai, my husband."

"Your...?" Houghton started, eyes dropping to Nik's left hand, where his silver wedding ring wrapped his finger.

"Da," Nik said flatly, watching as Houghton's offending hand retreated into his pocket. "And I have come to collect my husband for a dance."

"Urf, Nik, really? The Major and I were just discussin'--actually, what were yer proposin', Major? Somethin' ya wanted to show me in yer room..."

"Oh, uh, nothing. Absolutely nothing of import. You two, uhm, ahh, I think that's... Yes, that's Frank from the Mercian, you two have a lovely evening."

"Yeah, 'course." John watched him leave over the rim of his whiskey glass, content in his victory. Or so he believed.

Nik took John by the elbow to steer him towards the small floor before the singer. A few other couples were swaying together amongst the jumble of bodies, and Nik took John's glass and placed it on a nearby table, setting his cigar over the top before encircling him, hands finding his narrow hips and drawing them close.

John placed a hand on Nik's chest and the other on his arm, smirking, ready to gloat. "Did I make ya jealous?"

Nik cocked a brow and leaned in to John's neck. The kisses he placed beneath John's ear, slow, lingering, teased a soft noise from John's chest, his hips bumping forward to Nik's. "Nyet, John. Jealousy is for boys and weak men who do not know their own worth. He could not take you from me. He is not worthy of you."

Nik felt John coil with pleasure against him. He could imagine how his toes were curling in his shoes, the hairs on his arms standing on end, as Nik's voice passed over his skin like a caress.

"Naw, ya don't think so?"

"I do not need to think. I know."

"Olrigh', not jealousy, then what? Why the Russian 'itman act?"

"I am possessive," Nik murmured. "But you know this, which is why you sought to... antagonise me by misbehaving."

"Yeah?"

Nik felt John's smile against the side of his face and nuzzled a kiss into his neatly trimmed beard.

"I am tempted to reclaim you in front of them all."

"Right here, eh? Give 'em all somethin' to gossip about."

"Da. I would spread your legs right here, and make you scream my name, leave you fucked full of me, so they all know to who the great Captain John Price belongs to."

"Fuckin' filthy," John purred, his voice thick, fingers kneading in Nik's shirt as their bodies swayed together, the deep, sultry voice of the lounge singer a pleasant hum in the background. Nik's thumbs circled on John's hips, his nose tracing over the frantic, desperate pulse in the side of John's neck. Their touches were discreet, Nik's voice low, but the illicit nature only made their blood run hotter.

"You would like them to watch you take my cock, see how beautiful you are, knowing that they can never have you as I do."

"Bloody 'ell," John rasped, and Nik knew he had won their game. He simply needed to deliver the final blow and claim his prize.

"They would see how easily you surrender yourself to me," Nik whispered, running his open mouth over the line of John's beard to hover over his lips. "Just as you are now."

"Nik..." John whispered before Nik took his chin and kissed him, sweeping his other hand to the small of his back. Nik held John close as his tongue swept between his lips and claimed what was rightfully his. Tasted the cheeky tongue, the soft lips soaked in whiskey, taking possession of everything he had admired from afar.

Nik drank down the soft moan of pleasure, his own body warming as John gripped at him, trying to pull as close as possible. They moved together, so deeply tuned in to each shift of muscle, the slide of expensive wool and cotton beneath their hands, the heat of their bodies burning through as their hearts fluttered.

John liked being hunted, but he liked being possessed even more. To know that Nik would pursue him through whatever storm or trial until he was back where he belonged: in Nik's arms. And once there, to have Nik demonstrate exactly to whom he belonged. Nik needed it as much as he did it. The thrill of possessing the one thing in the world that no one else could ever. That no amount of money could ever buy; the most beautiful man to walk it.

Nik could feel the hum of want thrumming through the strong body in his arms, primed and eager, and he knew he would be purchasing that expensive hotel room after all. He drew back, sucking gently on John's lower lip, and admired those hazy blue eyes. The song has drawn to an end and faded into another. John was thoroughly at his mercy.

"Come, I am bored of this party."

John swallowed and managed a nod, his lips were red, kiss swollen and glistening and Nik needed them stretched around his prick.

Nik took his hand and pulled him from the hall to reception, where a quick flash of plastic bought them the expensive studio room with a sprawling king-sized bed and champagne in the fridge. Nik kissed John in the lift, sliding a hand beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin and made him stutter out tight gasps with sucking kisses on his neck, beneath his ear. The door to the room had barely clicked shut before their clothes were thrown off, and they tumbled into the bedroom.

John swallowed Nik down greedily once it had sprung free from his boxers, lips stretched impossibly wide around its girth, and Nik mussed that too neat hair until he found the untamed man that stalked battlegrounds at his side, thrusting slowly into John's spasming throat as he squirmed on the mattress.

When Nik turned him onto his back and spread his thighs, John arched, offering himself desperately, pleading in a low, husky rasp, cock drunk and needy. He fisted the sheets as Nik claimed him, Nik's name punching out of his chest in a low, gravelly moan that curled like molten heat in Nik's gut. Those same eyes that he had watched hunt the party now misty and soft, tamed a little by pleasure, but no less bright.

"Who do you belong to, John?" Nik whispered, dragging his thick cock in and out in slow, deep thrusts.

"You, Nik, fuck... you, please."

"Da... Me." Nik thrust in hard and licked the cry of ecstasy from John's mouth.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍

SUMMARY: five times you almost say i love you and the one time you do

PAIRING: callum turner x gn!american!reader

TAGS: FLUFF, inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo, established relationship, song references (some obvious, some less obvious), fluff!!

A/N: started this when i was in my callum turner era and had this song on repeat so here we are… it’s vaguely set in socal bc i was feeling a tad bit homesick at the time… anyways, i’m not going to be writing out the lyrics to olivia’s song but the scenarios are heavily inspired by them. knowing the lyrics is ofc not a requirement to read this, you can 100% go into this without that knowledge and enjoy some cute fluff! i hope yall enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

masterlist || request box <3

The first time you almost said “I love you” was when he took you on a date to the beach.

Your feet were up on the dashboard as he drove, head against the seat and hand lazily weaving through the breeze out the open window.  It was beautiful out—the sun blazing high in the sky with no clouds in sight and the temperature just right. When the starting beats to Cruel Summer roared through the car’s speakers, the brightest smile grew on your face. When the chorus hit, you turned to face Callum and sing, eyes widening when he starting singing along with you.

“You know this song?”

He chuckled. Gosh, his smile. “Of course, I know this song.”

As the bridge of the song played, you both shouted along. 

And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Almost as if the universe timed it perfectly, the song came to an end as Callum parked. As you giggled in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but admire him for a moment. The way his eyes matched the sky. The way his curls fell on his head from the wind. The way his cheeks grew as red the larger he smiled. “S’rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“I-“ Before you could finish your sentence, you cut yourself off.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t help it,” you played off. “You’re just so pretty.”

The second time you almost said it was while he was dying his hair in preparation for The Boys in the Boat.

“How’s it lookin’, love?” Callum asked as you rinsed the bleach out of his hair.

You leaned back to get a better look at him. “It looks very… yellow,” you giggle.

He quickly stands and goes to look in the mirror, a hand stretching his hair to see for himself. “Is it supposed to look like this?”

You grinned in amusement as he cringed at the color of his hair. “S’a good thing we got purple shampoo.” As he sat down on the edge of the tub, you rummaged in the plastic bag you had bought the hair supplies in. Replacing the gloves you had on, you stood in front of him and poured a little bit in your hands, carefully spreading it through his hair. Even as you focused on getting his hair done, you didn’t fail to notice the way he stared at you as you worked.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to stare, Cal?” His face flushed.

“S’not my fault you’re so pretty,” he whispered, his hands going to rest on your waist. Your chest clenched at his words, your own cheeks reddening. Looking down into his icy blue eyes, it almost slipped out of your mouth, but you caught yourself.

“Such a charmer, Mr. Turner.”

“Only for you, love.”

The third time you almost said it was when he took you to the Masters of the Air premiere in LA.

Thankfully enough, despite now having been together almost two years now, you’ve both successfully been able to have kept your relationship away from the public eye. Having seen the work he put into this project, you wanted to celebrate with him and suggested you walk with him on the carpet. 

He stepped out of the car first, buttoning his jacket before turning back and offering his hand to help you out of the car, a bright smile on his face. At the sight of just your hand, the flashes from the paparazzi cameras mere feet away flashed even quicker, and their roars got louder. “I got you, love,” he whispered, his hand never leaving you as you walked the carpet. 

Eventually, the both of you caught up to Austin and Barry, whose faces lit up at the sight of you. “Well, well, well,” Austin greeted, the southern drawl from his time playing Elvis peeking through. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he teased with a smile as if he hadn’t seen the pair of you a few days ago.

Barry ran over to Callum to give him a quick hug before turning to you with an even bigger smile. “S’lovely to see ya. Let’s take some pictures, aye? ”

You, Callum, Barry, and Austin stopped to pose together for a bit before they left the two of you to do some interviews further down the carpet. 

To your left!

This way, Callum!

To your right!

Give us a kiss!

He was quick to notice the fatigue growing on your face the longer you stayed in front of the sea of paparazzi. As you sat in your seats in the theater, he gave your hand a quick squeeze. When you glanced over to him, the look on his face made your heart swell. His blue eyes were soft and so filled with admiration. Just as you opened your mouth to say those three words, Barry barreled past you two into his seat next to Callum.

The fourth time you almost said it was on a random Tuesday in the weird period between spring and summer.

“It’s raining again,” you commented, both a little sad and happy with the weather. You and Callum had planned to go to the farmer’s market today but with the weather on top of the mood you had woken up in, it didn’t look like those plans were going through anymore.

Callum hummed as he turned on his side to look out the window. “Fucking June bloom,” you groaned, dropping your head back on your pillow. He turned back to face you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in closer. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you relaxed in his hold. 

“That kinda morning?” he gently asked to which you nodded. “I don’t mind a night in, love,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. “As long as I’m with you.”

Your heart warmed at his words. “Thank you,” you mumbled against his chest. 

The fifth time you almost said it was on your birthday.

“What’s this?”

“Open it,” he encouraged, his eyes soft as he watched you. You narrowed your eyes before doing as he said. As you carefully unraveled the cute purple bow he wrapped around the tiny box, Callum watched with bated breath.

Lifting the lid revealed a small locket in the shape of a heart and when you opened it, one side with both of your initials carved into the metal and the other a picture of the two of you. You remembered when this was taken. It was from when you took him to Disneyland for the first time. It was a bit blurry but that didn’t matter.

“Callum…” you whispered, tears slowly filling your eyes at the sentiment. You quickly surged forward to pull him into a hug. 

“Do ya like it?”

“I- I love it. I love it,” you smile, placing a kiss to his lips which he gladly reciprocated. You could feel him smile as he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Happy birthday, love.”

When you do finally say it, he had just finished doing an interview for Deadline magazine.

Callum did the interview on the phone and sat across the room, so you were within earshot of it all. “Your new film, Eternity, is said to explore who you’d want to spend an eternity with and where, so I have to ask: who and where might that be for you?” the interviewer asked. You tried your best not to eavesdrop, but the question intrigued you. What would his answer be?

The deepness of his voice brought you out of his thoughts as he answered. “If I had to spend an eternity with anyone, it would definitely be my partner. Where specifically is a little tough to say if I’m being completely honest. Anywhere they go, I’ll follow.”

Your heart melted. Did he really mean that? Soon enough the interview ended and you padded over to where he sat. “You’re such a sap, Cal.”

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”

“Just a tiny bit,” you grinned. The way he looked at you sent your heart racing—a look filled with so much love. “I think I love you,” you blurted out. His eyes widened for a second before softening again.

“I think love you too,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. 

A/N: btw the deadline magazine refers to an actual interview he did but skewed to fit the purposes of this fic <3

[floyds-favorite-shrimp]

If Looks Could Kill

Deuce Spade x Fem!Yuu

Word Count: 1503

A lil spicy. Jealous/Rough Deuce!

More under cut!

“Shrimpy!” Floyd yelled, his sharp teeth on full display as he grinned. He threw his arm over Yuu’s shoulder, pulling her to him. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t try to pull away. Yuu had been on her way to Deuce and Ace, who were sitting together on the other side of the courtyard. Floyd intercepted her on her way. 

“Hello Floyd.” Yuu said, a small smile played on her lips as she politely engaged Floyd in conversation. His teal hair fell into his face as he stared down at her. “What’s up?”

“Skipping out on work, of course!” He exclaimed happily. “Hey, keep me entertained?” He hooked his fingers under her chin, forcing her attention onto him. 

“I think most people ask ‘keep me company?’” Yuu said, raising her eyebrow at him. His grin widened. 

“Ok, keep me company?” He asked her. She sighed.

Meanwhile, Deuce sat with Ace on a red, wooden bench. His hands were curled into fists, his nails digging into his palm as he looked on at Floyd and Yuu. His fingers were under her chin, and she wasn’t pulling away. Why wasn’t she pulling away?

“-uce?”

What could they be talking about?

“-euce?”

What could he possibly want with her? Deuce had watched their entire interaction. Yuu had started on her way towards them, only to be stopped by Floyd’s arm around her shoulder. Deuce wasn’t sure if he had ever gone from elated to upset so quickly before. Didn’t Floyd know that she was dating Deuce? Didn’t he know that Deuce wouldn’t give her up for anything? Not even to some tall, handsome, bad-boy like Floyd. And why was it suddenly bothering Deuce that he was an eel? Surely that should make him less attractive to Yuu?

“Deuce!” 

Deuce was finally brought back to  reality when Ace smacked him upside the head. He unclenched his fists, not realizing how tense he had been.

“Yeah- huh-wha?” Deuce sputtered out, turning his bright eyes to his ginger friend. 

“Bro, if looks could kill…” Ace trailed off, looking between Deuce and the pair across the yard. “Tell me you’re jealous without telling me you’re jealous.”

“I- I’m not jealous!” Deuce said, knowing it was quite possibly the biggest lie he had ever told. “Why would I be jealous?” He asked, slumping back against the bench and crossing his arms over his chest. He refused to look at Ace, but the frown on his face told Ace everything he needed to know. Ace smirked to himself, an idea popping into his mind so genius he was surprised a lightbulb didn’t form in midair above him. 

Yuu would have to thank him later.

“I don’t know if I could watch that, if I were her boyfriend.” Ace said, nodding his head in the general direction of the other two. “I mean, even I think he’s pretty hot. And I’m not really attracted to dudes.” 

“Wait-wha- I-I’m h-hot!” Deuce stuttered out, his eyes wide as he stared at Ace in disbelief. Ace had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I mean sure.” Ace said, keeping his face so straight he momentarily considered a career in acting. “But you’re, what, like six-seven- inches shorter than him? And not nearly as chaotic.”

“Chaotic?” Deuce questioned, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“Well, yeah.” Ace continued. “That’s kind of the hot new thing, isn’t it? Girls are always attracted to the chaotic red-flags.” 

“Red flags?” Deuce asked again, his gaze distant as he looked onward, but focused on nothing.

“And you’re pretty much a walking green flag. Which is great, but not really as, uh, alluring.” Ace continued, his scarlet eyes screaming in amusement.

There was a moment of silence as Deuce’s brain slowly caught up to everything Ace had said. Chaotic? Red flag? Alluring? Deuce could do that. Deuce has done that. Where was his hair bleach!

He sprung up off of the bench, his bright eyes focused on one thing. On one person. 

“What are you-” Ace started to say, but he was cut off as Deuce took off. His long legs carried him quickly across the grass to Yuu. Ace watched him, shaking his head slightly.

“He’s too easy.”

“Excuse me.” Came a deep voice in Yuu’s ear. She jumped slightly, immediately recognizing it without having to look. She felt his hand grip her wrist, and Floyd dropped his finger from her chin. Yuu glanced back, surprised to see his eyes dark with anger.

She had never seen him angry like this.

“Uh, Deuce?” She asked, but instead of answering her he pulled on her arm and she stumbled towards him. His cyan eyes were locked with Floyd’s heterochromatic gaze. She could sense some kind of unspoken argument between them, and finally Floyd relented.

“This is no good.” He hugged. Alright, Shrimpy.” He said, his smile having turned into a frown. “I’ll see ya later.” He turned on his heel before walking off. Yuu watched him leave for just a moment before turning her questioning stare to Deuce. He glanced at her from the corner of  his eye, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he began to walk, pulling her by her wrist. The gesture was both rough, and exceedingly gentle. Yuu knew he would never hurt her, but that didn’t stop her from being exceptionally confused. 

They marched on in silence, Yuu always a step behind Deuce as he led her away from campus, and toward Ramshackle dorm. Yuu’s confusion only grew as he pulled her up the front steps and into the entryway.

“Grim?” Was all Deuce asked, not looking back at her as he asked. She stared at his broad shoulders as she answered nervously.

“Uh, getting food.” 

There was no way Deuce, her Deuce, would ever so much as raise his voice at her. So why was she so afraid that he was mad? She didn’t feel the need to swat Floyd away simply because she knew that Floyd didn’t have the emotional ability to get a crush. Did Deuce see things differently? Was he really that upset?

Deuce finally turned around to look at her. Their gazes met for a moment, but it felt like an eternity. His eyes were dark, but his signature gentleness remained. Yuu opened her mouth to speak, but before any words came out, Deuce had his hands wrapped around her upper arms, and her back pressed against the door. A small grunt of surprise left her, but that’s the only noise that could escape before her lips were captured in a rough kiss. 

Her thoughts scattered. Deuce moved his soft lips against hers even though it took her a moment to respond. This was definitely not what she was expecting. His grip moved from her arms to her hips, pulling her against him. Her arms looped his neck as Deuce nibbled on her bottom lip, causing her to gasp slightly, but it was just enough for him to slip his warm tongue between her lips. He massaged her tongue with his, and she felt her knees start to shake. She held onto him even tighter. 

He pulled away from her, but only to move his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Yuu tangled her fingers in his hair, tilting her head back to give him better access. She felt a sharp pain as he lightly bit down on her sensitive skin. His hands found their way under the hem of her shirt, his warm fingers gripping her hips. Her knees buckled as he continued to nip and suck on her neck. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, using the wall at her back to help lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist.

His lips moved to her collarbone, and across the top of her chest. When did he unbutton her shirt? How did she not notice?

“Deuce-what-” But he cut her off by slamming his lips back onto hers. She did not have the mental fortitude to make him stop. He had never touched her quite like this before. And as much as she loved his genuine kindness, she had to admit that she didn’t mind this side of him either. Maybe she could enjoy it, just for now…

The next day, Yuu had to wear a scarf with her school uniform. Her and Deuce were walking to class, hand-in-hand. Yuu was still dazed from the previous night (and the morning). She knew she would have to ask him about his shift in personality at some point, but the way he walked with his head high and her hand gripped tightly in his was enough to cause her to put it off for a little bit longer.

And then she caught a glimpse of Ace, with a wide smirk on his face as Deuce led her to their first class. She held his gaze, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

Ace, what the fuck did you do?

[lilypadlys]

Haircuts make Dew uncomfortable.

A product of his element transition was that his hair got badly singed and most of the length had to be cut off. Dew loved his platinum blonde, practically white hair. Took immaculate care of it. Adored its body and how it rippled like water. And suddenly it was burnt and matted and gone. Then to add insult to injury, even after it grew back it became a harvest gold.

Dew hates it at first. No matter how much Aether and Mountain insist that his hair is prettier than ever, that it suits him so well, he hates it. At first, he wears it back and under hats and beanies, refusing to deal with it. Eventually it gets so bad though that he tries to bleach it. Unfortunately the bleach further trashes his already damaged hair and he has to get it cut short all over again.

His packmates know he needs help but they aren’t sure what to do. Compliments and affirmations are all well and good but they don't really help. Doesn’t fix it. He knows his packmates mean well but he can’t really take their words to heart.

Then one day, Cumulus asks Dew for his help with doing her hair. Says she’s trimming it to avoid split ends and could he help her with the back sections? He agrees and helps her out. He helps her straighten her hair so she can trim it, then helps her work in product afterwards to help it regain its curl. Then she asks if he would like her to do his.

He refuses immediately. His hair has just gotten back to a couple inches below shoulder length, still too short for his liking, and even an end trim seems like too much. She doesn’t take offense though, just nods and changes the subject; has him pick what scent of hair mask she should use next.

And then next time she does her hair, she has him help her decide how to style it; braids or in space buns. And the time after that if she should cut it all short for summer. He immediately gasps at the thought, and waxes poetic about how pretty her hair is until they’re both giggling. And then he regards his own tangled mane in the mirror.

He asks in a quiet voice if he can borrow her hair scissors. She agrees, handing them over and watching him carefully. He brings the scissors up to the ends of his hair, but he stops. Freezes. He can’t do it.

“Would you like me to help?” She asks gently.

He hesitates and then nods, passing the scissors back over. She gestures for him to sit on the edge of the tub and stands behind him.

“I’m just going to get the ends, alright? Just to help your hair be a bit less tangled. Is that okay?”

He nods, not trusting his voice.

She brushes through his hair gently, mindful of the tangles. Asks one more time if he’s okay with this. When he nods again she wraps a towel around him. She works as quickly as she can while still being careful to make sure everything is even. When she’s done, she sets the scissors aside and uses her air magic to sweep the cut ends of his hair away into the trashcan and out of sight. Then she brushes through his hair again and grabs the curling iron.

“Okay if I style it a little?”

“Sure.” Dew shrugs noncommittally.

An ironic perk of Dew’s hair now is that it’s a lot more fire resistant. Still Cumulus is careful not to turn the iron on too hot and risk burning herself. She uses it to add a slight wave to Dew’s hair before finally letting him look.

Dew gets up and shyly glances at himself in the mirror, eyes going wide once he does. Even though it’s not perfect, there’s still damaged ends left from lack of regular care, Dew has to admit that it looks a lot better. Cumulus had to take about three inches off but as he runs a hand through it and doesn’t get caught on a rats nest of tangled ends he sighs in relief. The slight wave has the corner of his mouth quirking up even as he begins to blink rapidly.

“Feel a little bit better?” Cumulus asks.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

They both ignore how Dew’s voice cracks a little. Cumulus definitely doesn’t notice that dampness around Dew’s eyes. She busies herself cleaning up while Dew turns away and rubs his eyes.

“If you’re up for it, I know what might really help. A nice deep shampooing and conditioning will go a long way towards helping maintain your hair. You can use my stuff and I’ll even help you wash if you want.”

Dew knows how protective over her hair products Cumulus is. The fact that she’s offering makes him smile. He nods.

“Thank you.”

Cumulus gets the both of them ensconced in the tub, Dew using his magic to keep the water steamy while Cumulus massages shampoo through his hair. The way her claws gently card over his scalp has him purring in no time despite the stress he’d been feeling. By the time she’s rinsing the conditioner, she practically has to hold him up so he doesn’t fall asleep right there in the bath. After, she helps him stand and wraps him in her fluffiest towel before wrapping a smaller towel around his head to dry his hair.

“Why don’t you get some comfy clothes and I’ll get a nest ready. Sounds good?”

“Uh huh.” Dew’s too worn out and sleepy to fuss about being taken care of.

He dutifully pads off to his room to change and Cumulus makes good on her promise and sets up a blanket and pillow nest. She’s just fluffing the last pillow when Dew returns in an oversized tee and sleep shorts, and mostly dry hair. Without complaint, he hops up on the bed and sinks into the blankets with a happy chirp. Cumulus finishes drying her own hair, changes into pajamas and joins him.

“Okay if I braid your hair? It’ll help with tangles and it’ll be wavy in the morning.”

“Kay.” He murmurs, already drifting off. She giggles and retrieves her brush from her nightstand. Dew is fast asleep before she even ties the braid off with a silk scrunchie.

[seonghwaddict]

tell me — kim hongjoong PART TWO OF LILO'S 600 FOLLOWER EVENT

requested by @tayisgrt. “I saw this picture [ middle pic in the header ] of Hongjoong and it just got me thinking abt a short smut story abt fem!reader going to a frat party or something and seeing him and finding out that he’s a playboy/fuckboy or the host of the party and they go back to his place and end up having a one night stand or just end up hooking up in the bathroom at the party. Either one works 🤷🏽‍♀️” lilo’s notes. this request is such gold, thank you so my for this tay 🫶 at first i kinda struggled to write but um… yeah i got carried away and the word count turned out to be a lot higher than i. also i am completely aware that the past tense of grind is ground but grinder sounds better to me so deal with my chosen bad grammar (i already uploaded this earlier but i’m pretty sure tumblr flagged it)

prompts. “i’m crazy for you” ; “tell me what you want me to do” ; “i can’t wait to feel you inside me” pairing. kim hongjoong x fem!reader

warnings. smut under the cut, minors please dni, dirty talk, thigh riding, cocky hongjoong, swearing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), fingering, slight bimbofication, nicknames (baby, baby girl, pretty girl, slut), praise, slight degradation, i missed anything please notify me. wc. 2.7k

as you danced in in the middle of the overly filled living room with your friends, not a single worry crossed your mind. it had been a while since you’d gone out, wrapped up with school and your part time job, so you were grateful when wooyoung dragged you out of your dorm to go party.

throughout the night, you’d been licking eyes and catching glimpses of a familiar man. and though you couldn’t quite place your finger on why he seemed familiar, his short, bleached hair, alluring smile and sharp eyes hidden behind sunglasses despite how dark the room was had you feeling some type of way.

he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed over him so desperately, practically begging him to take you. and you certainly didn’t miss the bite of his lip as he leaned against a wall, watching you with a smirk while he sipped from his red solo cup.

as you danced, a pair of hands landed on your waist and slowly slipped down to your hips. you didn’t really care who it was and without much thinking, you backed up against them and swayed your hips to the beat of the song as one hand slid up their chest and around the back of their neck. the person behind you wasn’t too much taller than you, making minimal effort to lean down and ghost his lips over the skin of your neck.

as they bent their face over your neck, tufts of short, bleached hair fanned over your face and you realised who it was, suppressing a shudder of blatant excitement. his lips brushed up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“i’m crazy for you.” he whispered against your ear and you actually shuddered this time, his fingers caressing your hips gently before dipping two centimetres under the waistband of your sparkly skirt and then slipping out again.

you wanted him just as bad but that was embarrassing to admit, so you rolled your hips against him, your ass right against his crotch, as he kissed his way from your ear to your neck. feeling his erection press against your ass moments later, you couldn’t wait much longer. you turned around and pulled his face close enough to whisper against his mouth without your lips touching.

“let’s get out of here?” it was less a question and more of a plea, but he nodded and took your hand to drag you out of the house and to his car.

it was a quick and silent drive, his hand kneading the plump flesh of your thighs did nothing to dissolve the tension or ease the ever-growing puddle in your panties. if anything it made your head spin even more as you body warmed up. some time between when you left the party and got to his house, you finally remembered his name.

hongjoong, member of the hottest fraternity on campus and probably also the host of the party you just escaped from. soon enough the car came to a stop and you tried to get out as calmly as possible to prevent yourself from just ripping off his clothes right then and there.

the walk from his car to his bedroom passed in a haze, both of you rushing on quick feet as he led you there. as soon as the door shut and he locked it, you were all over each other.

teeth clashing through feverish kisses, your hands were quick to undress each other down to your undergarments and grope at each other’s bodies. his hands squeezed your breasts over your bra as he backed you up against the door he just locked despite the bed being two steps away.

you moaned against his mouth as he brushed his thumbs over your nipples and slotted his thigh between your legs simultaneously, his thigh rubbing against your core with every movement. your hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer before one of them made its way down. you felt him shiver as you dragged your nails over his torso lightly and stopped on his taut stomach.

you both went still for a moment, not out of uncomfort or anything, just to catch your breaths. your breaths mixed in the sliver of space separating your lips as you got lost in his perceptive eyes. something stirred in you when a mischievous little smile appeared on his lips and for a moment you had a hard time thinking.

“tell me,” he started, a hand trailing up to twirl a lock of your hair around it, “tell me what you want me to do.”

unable to form words with the way he was looking at you, you slid your hand down a bit further to touch what you needed. but before you could get there, a chuckle escaped him and he laid his other hand over yours to stop it.

“words, baby girl.” he muttered lowly, a slight hoarseness to his voice as he tugged the strand gently. “how can i give you what you want if you don’t tell me, hm?”

“i…” you started, unsure of how to ask. nevertheless, he waited patiently. “i want you”

he let out another low chuckle. “be more specific, there’s many things i can do for you.”

you whined before giving in to what he wanted. “i want you to fuck me.”

“hm… you want my cock, huh?”

“god, yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, “want your cock so bad.”

“that’s a very possible request,” his finger slipped out of your hair to cup the front of your neck, thumb rubbing your pulse point. “but first, i’m gonna make you cum on my thigh,” he pressed said thigh against your core once again, “then my fingers,” his fingers tightened ever so slightly, not enough to complicate your breathing but enough to make you see stars for a moment, “and then i’ll fuck you so good i’ll ruin other men for you. how does that sound, pretty girl?”

you merely nodded, momentarily overwhelmed by his words and actions. but as soon as you feel his hands guiding your hips to grind along the length of his thigh, you quickly follow his guidance and move on your own with your hands braced on his shoulder. it wasn’t a hard task, the slick arousal soaking your panties helping you glide on top of him easily, a fact that he took note of with a sound half way between a laugh and a scoff.

“look at you,” he said, leaning forward to catch you in a breathy kiss as you came undone, “you’re already soaked and i haven’t even touched you properly. with all this wetness, i probably won’t even have to stretch you, baby.”

you arched your back off the door as your body flushed with heat and pleasure, a silent whimper escaping your lips. with you positioned like that, he had perfect access for his deft fingers to unclip your lace bra effortlessly. at his gentle “hands, please” you dropped your hands from his shoulder to help him slip the fabric off easier, tossing it in a random direction as you had with your clothes.

his hooded eyes roamed over your naked chest with an almost feral look as a groan slipped through his lips, his hand immediately moving to grope at them, messaging the flesh and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “look at you, so pretty and so bare, all for me.”

he tensed the muscles of his thigh and you slumped forward at the sudden firm sensation, moaning into his shoulder, the movements of your hips never once faltering as you grinded against him harder and faster. at your reaction, he gave your ass an encouraging squeeze and kissed your shoulder, tensing and relaxing that muscle in a rhythm that brought you rushing to your climax.

before you knew it, your back arched as you pressed your clothed clit against his thigh as hard as you could, crying out his name loudly as your orgasm finally hit you, mind devoid of thoughts. three months without sex seemed to have taken its toll on your sensitivity.

“there you go,” he cooed like the asshole he is, a mocking look of sympathy gracing his features. “come all over me like the desperate, needy mess you are.”

when your mind cleared just a bit after your first orgasm of the night, you quickly registered that you weren’t pressed against the door anymore. instead, he had moved you to lay on the bed, your knees bent over the edge as he kneeled between them with his hands caressing your upper thighs. your panties were also no longer on you, discarded amongst the scattered clothing on the ground.

once he noticed that the hazy look in your eyes was gone, one of his hands gently tapped its way to rest on top of your pelvis. “now, tell me, what else did i say i’d make you cum on?”

when you didn’t answer immediately and only blinked at him, he tilted his head. “come on, i know you remember it somewhere in that pretty head of yours, no? or did you fuck yourself dumb on my thigh?”

“y-your fingers…” you finally replied after clearing your throat.

“good girl.” he grinned and nodded, leaning down to peck your cheek. “do you still want to continue?”

“yes, fuck, please.” you were quick to answer in a breathy whine.

he hummed and the mischievous glint was back once again to torment you. “good.”

without wasting any time, he dipped his hand down and through your folds, groaning the the pool of wetness and nearly collapsing on top of you, but he pulled himself together quickly enough for you to not quite register it. either way, you were too busy grasping onto his shoulders and trying not to lose your mind because of how amazing his fingers feel.

as his index finger circled your engorged clit at a frustratingly slow pace, he pressed another kiss to your cheek before moving south. he kissed, sucked and nibbled his way down your jawline, neck and chest, leaving slowly bruising marks in his trails. the pressure of his fingers increased slightly and his kisses circled around your perked nipple before giving it an experimental lick, eyes flicking up to gauge your reaction.

“shit,” you cursed quietly, eyes shut tightly. “k-keep doing that.”

a shit-eating grin replaced the curious look and he did exactly that, licking it twice more before closing his mouth around it and such harshly. this elicited another cry of his name from your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders. they would probably leave marks but he didn’t mind that at all, if anything he’ll wear a tank top tomorrow to show it off.

“tell me what you’re thinking about, pretty girl.” he asked after momentarily lifting his head to look at you, only to find your unfocused eyes already on him.

“i can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

trying to hold himself back from impaling you with his cock, his head moved to give the same attention to your other nipple and he slowly pushed two fingers into your entrance. you let out a choked moan as he dropped his head in the valley of your breasts and groaned deeply.

“fuck…” he sat up to look down at you, eyes glazed over as they roamed from your slack-jawed face down to where his fingers were pushed inside your weeping pussy. “i need to be inside you right fucking now.”

“please, please, please.” at this point you were holding back tears because of how desperate you were to be dicked down but you couldn’t care less, not when he seemed just as desperate.

he looked around his room before his eyes settled on you again, biting his lip with uncertainty. “do we need a condom?”

“are you clean?”

he nodded. “tested a week ago and i haven’t slept with anyone since.”

“well then-“

“actually that’s a lie, i’ve slept with two people since then, not including you.”

you blinked at him.

“but they were both clean. and we used protection!” he was quick to reassure you.

you raised a joking eyebrow before laughing. “it’s fine, i’m clean and on the pill, just go raw.”

he froze for a moment but your words processed soon enough and he made quick work of shucking off his boxers and pumping his length a few times to spread his pre-cum. moments later he was hooking your legs around his, lining himself up with your entrance.

after pressing a quick kiss between your collarbones, he moved forward and began pushing inside you inch by inch. a string of curses left your lips, swollen from being kissed and biting them. hongjoong was a bit bigger than you had anticipated but it was welcome, with the way he was filling you so wonderfully in a way you’d never been filled before you weren’t sure you could think straight. perhaps he was right and was indeed ruining other men for you.

eventually, he bottomed out and neither of you moved for a short while, letting you get used to the stretch. you heard hongjoong groan and curse as he shifted ever so slightly and you felt his length brush against that sweet spot inside you, paired with his pelvic bone pressing against your clit, you let out a needy whine.

“move, please.”

that was all it took for him to pull out and slowly push back in again, setting a steady slow space. your mind, usually filled with so many thoughts, was silent. completely blank except for one thing. him, him, him. hongjoong.

he cooed at you with that same mocking voice from before. “hm, what a cute little slut you are. finally getting the dick your perfect little pussy was begging for. you’ve been thinking about it all night, haven’t you?”

you opened your mouth to reply but instead cut yourself off with a pitchy moan as he angled his hips at just the right angle so his cock dragged along that sweet spot with every one of his thrusts.

“you’re loving this, huh?” he leaned down to rasp into your ear after biting your earlobe gently. “i fuck you so well, don’t i? but let’s not forget how well you take me.”

his pace began picking up and you didn’t care if your moans were too loud, it was his fault for making you feel so damn good. the knot in your stomach tightening once more, an effect of the combination of his actions and his dirty words. but it wasn’t quite enough.

“more, faster, p-please.” you begged him with wide glossy eyes.

there was no reason for him to not comply, so he immediately sped things up, postponing in and out of you as fast as he could. a few more thrust later, your whole body tensed as your second climax caused the knot in your stomach to snap. your body convulsing as you open your mouth to cry out. you were shirt there were scratch marks all over his back and shoulders, but it’s what he deserved for littering your neck and chest with love bites.

hongjoong crashed his lips on yours, bith an attempt to muffle your sounds and to bring you even closer to him. he faintly noted you tasted of mint and some kind of fruit he couldn’t name. though your lipstick was already smudged, his wet kisses against your mouth and his tongue inside only served to smear it even more.

you heard him say something distantly, the intensity of your orgasm had your ears ringing but you faintly recognised the words “cum” and “in you.” it didn’t take a genius to pick up on what he meant, so your fucked-out mind had you nodding. and a second later he did exactly that and collapsed on top of you, his elbows on either side of your head supporting most of his weight.

your chests heaved against each other as he kissed you. though, “kissed” was a bit generous for the lazy, slow presses he left against the plush of your lips, murmuring praises against them. soon enough he slipped out of you and rolled the two of you over so you were laying halfway on top of him as you held each other tightly.

after a long silence he spoke up as he patted your back affectionately. “let’s get you cleaned up?”

“two more minutes.” you muttered into his neck. 

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal

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[caraetdeul]

Impulsive Decisions

Kwon Soonyoung a.k.a. Hoshi x fem!reader

His love language is quality time and doing impulsive decisions together.

TW: slight swearing, stressful workload, and not proofread yet but other than that, there's nothing but fluff

A/n: I'm so sorry it took me so long to post another fic. These past few weeks had been very hectic but now that I finally got a few moments to breathe, I could finally come back to writing. That's why this one's a bit shortrr than usual but I've been dying to post something asksjskjs. Anyways, thank you for waiting for me and enjoy reading, caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

“What the hell are you doing?”

The scissors in your hand froze just as it snipped a portion of your bangs. Your eyes zoned in on the reflection of Soonyoung by the left side of the mirror, leaning on his side by the door. You rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face. It wasn’t often that he got to catch you off guard so you know that he’s already gonna try his best to milk this as best as he can.

“Cutting my hair.”

“And do pray tell, why are you cutting your hair at this time of night?”

You sighed, finally turning around to face him, “I’m too stressed and bored to do anything else.”

Soonyoung’s eyes softened. He stepped closer to you, his hands resting on your hips as his eyes finally took note of the dark bags under your eyes and hunched shoulders. Your hands circled around his neck before resting your chin on his chest, tired but loving eyes gazing upon him.

You chuckled quietly, “And besides, I’ve been meaning to cut my hair for so long now. I just needed the right motivation and what’s better motivation than the need to have a break.”

He hummed. There was a lull in the conversation as you watched him take one of his hands off your hip and bring it up to your hair. He narrowed his eyes at you, curiosity and  something else you can’t pinpoint was glinting in his eyes, “Wait a minute, you can cut your own hair?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve been cutting your hair this whole time?”

“More or less, yeah.”

“Huh.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he lit up with this information. You were taken aback when he suddenly smushed your cheeks with his hands, his whole face just beaming with excitement, “Can you do anything else with your hair? Like, I don’t know, bleach it or something?”

Now, it was your turn to get curious. You scrunched your eyebrows, scanning his face for any sign of where he was going with this question before giving up and slowly nodding your head. You didn’t think it was possible but his smile definitely got wider. And just as you opened your mouth to ask him about it, he bombarded you with kisses all over your face before walking away and out towards the direction of your apartment’s door. You could faintly hear his voice shouting a short “I’ll be back.” before you heard the door slam shut.

It took you a few more minutes of just standing in the middle of your bathroom, trying to comprehend what the hell actually happened. You then shrugged your shoulders before turning back to the mirror to continue your impulsive decision. Your boyfriend was being weird but then again, when was the last time you actually spent time with him without him getting weird all of a sudden? Don’t get it wrong though, he still had his serious moments when the situation deemed it necessary but you’ll be damned if you said that weirdness didn’t run through his veins more than blood did. Looking back at that moment earlier when that cute-as-hell smile on his face showed up that also makes his eyes disappear, all will definitely be damned if you didn’t admit how much you loved that side of his.

  Time passed and you honestly forgot much about what happened. You were done with messing with your hair and were now back to grinding for your research assignment that you’ve been fretting over for the last few hours. You were doing your best but as of now, your “best” is kind of leaning towards doing half-baked content and you just don’t have the energy to do any better. Not when your eyes were already drooping and your body was slowly inching down into a lying position on your couch. Pressing the last few buttons on your keyboard, you exhaled deeply as you let exhaustion finally overwhelm your body.

You didn’t even notice how you were already on the brink of falling asleep. You were only reminded of it when your whole body literally jumped out of the couch from the slam of the apartment door closing.

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath. You could hear someone calling out your name but with your brain still muddled from your unplanned nap, the words could only enter one ear and exit straight out of the other. It’s only when you feel someone hugging you from behind the couch did you actually come back to reality.

Blinking very slowly, your eyes did their best to focus on the head, which you now realized was your boyfriend’s, that was resting on your shoulder. He whispered a sorry into your ear once he realized that he had woken you up before kissing your cheek to solidify his apology. The smell of his perfume almost consumed your whole mind and being but the sparkle in his eyes as he waited for you to properly respond to him stopped you from getting any more distracted.

“Yes, babe?” you hummed.

“Will you please help me with something?” he whispered.

Soonyoung probably felt the way your whole demeanor immediately changed with concern over the matter of his question because he quickly backtracked to avoid any miscommunication. He immediately rounded the couch and plopped down beside you before reassuring you, “No, don’t worry. I didn’t do anything bad, I promise.”

“You also said that the last time you asked me that question and now, I can’t even buy anything from the grocery store without sales clerks eyeing me down every single time.”

He gasped dramatically, the palm of his hand splayed out over his chest as he tried to defend himself, “That was not my fault!”

You raised an eyebrow, your arms crossed against your chest. You might be tired but you’re definitely not dumb enough to believe that. And by the looks of it, Soonyoung also knew it.

He sighed dejectedly, raising his hands up in the air in surrender, “Okay, fine. Point taken. But just this once, please listen?”

Those damn puppy eyes will be the death of you one day. Not today, but someday.

“Ugh, fine. What is it?” you grumbled, rolling your eyes with affection when he pumped his fists in the air. He’s such a dork. Your dork.

“Okay, so. I probably didn’t think this through properly and maybe I should’ve actually asked you first before buying it. I mean at first, I thought about you just cutting my hair but then again, I didn’t know if your cutting skills were just catered to you and not really to other people. Or maybe you could only, like, cut hair for women and not for men because it’s a whole different style and I didn’t really want to force you to learn something else when I know how much workload you had been under for the past few da—”

“Babe,” you interrupted chuckling, closing your hands around his, “What do you need?”

But instead of answering, he removed his hands from under yours. Your lips ticked downwards at the loss of contact but before you could react properly, a paper bag was suddenly placed on your hands. You eyed the bag for a bit, unsure if you should open it or not. But you didn’t have to do anything else as Soonyoung opened the bag for you and took out a box of hair dye. He then grabbed your hands with a pout and pleading eyes and held them close between you.

“Will you please dye my hair?”

You blinked once. Twice. Thrice. You know what, it doesn’t matter. You blinked a bunch of times before actually letting the question sink in.

Soonyoung wanted you to dye his hair.

Your boyfriend wanted you to dye his hair.

Your boyfriend who is an idol wanted you to dye his hair that’s been loved not just by you but by a million other people too.

You moved closer until your faces were only inches away before murmuring, “Do you want me to die?”

“W-what?”

“Soons,” you sighed, “You’re an idol. A well-known and beloved star. I can’t dye your hair just like that.”

“Why not?” he pleaded, his whole face falling with confusion and disappointment. Your eyes softened at the pitiful sight but you still can’t find a good reason behind this.

You bit your lip before asking, “Why do you even want me to do it?”

“Well,” he paused, his eyes flitting from your face to the both of your hands that were still holding each other, “I couldn’t let you make impulsive decisions by yourself. I wanted to do it with you.”

Your heart warmed at the thought, a small smile gracing your lips. You breathed deeply, pursing your lips in thought. Maybe you were too easily read or maybe you’ve been with each other for so long now but the sudden flash of anticipation and hope that crossed your boyfriend’s face definitely told you how much he knew you. Because you didn’t even get a word of approval out of your mouth before he jumped out of the couch with a resounding yes. You laughed out loud at the little dance he made as he leaped around the living room in excitement.

“On one condition,” you declared, his body immediately stopping mid-leap before looking at you with raised eyebrows, “There will be no complaints nor regrets after this.”

He scoffed in disbelief, “Do you really think I’ll regret this?”

“Yep.”

“Baby, nothing you do will ever make me regret trusting you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. Freaking hell, how did you get so lucky?

Needless to say, you both spent most of the night dyeing his hair and mimicking the different possible reactions of his fans once he went public with his new hair. You may have slept late but the fun and quality time you spent together was totally worth it. Besides, waking up to comments and tweets from his fans about how jealous they are of your relationship and how well you dyed his hair was definitely the cherry on top.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[vanderbilt-draws]

pleaseee...draw devwinn interacting... plssss

ok sorry it took forever for me to answer i may have gone slightly overboard with the doodles but I REALLY LIKE DEVWINN AND MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE A WHOLE UNWRITTEN FIC ABOUT THEM IN HIGH SCHOOL AND LIKE 7 MILLION HCS ABOUT HOW THEY MET AND THEIR FUTURES AND UHH UHH hcs/all the stuff leading up to my unwritten fic are all below the cut if youre interested ✨✨

winn moved to dimmadelphia in the fourth grade

pretty much instantly dev "befriended" them and started being really clingy with them. he had a MASSIVE crush on them right from the start

winn wasnt actually all that big a fan of dev at first because yk he was mean to most of the other kids, but they didnt want to hurt his feelings so kind of went along with him

(side note i hc that dev has literally been wearing pretty much the same outfit since forever. hes so autism)

dev and winn only got to being real friends once hazel and dev became friends (bc yk shes got the balls to actually tell dev when hes doing something mean, so thats rlly when dev started improving as a person)

winn and dev had the same homeroom in sixth grade and ended up sitting right next to each other, which was when they really started becoming a Duo

winn broke their arm in a skating accident during the winter break of their sixth grade year, dev was the first one they got to sign the cast :] winn never stopped skating but they did do it a lot less + more carefully after that (by order of their parents)

dev started growing his hair into a mullet in the seventh grade because he "thought it looked cool" (<< started noticing his gender dysphoria and wanted longer hair in an attempt to quell it)

winn thought they were bi for all of seventh grade and most of eighth grade bc they had a crush on dev

SPOILER ALERT dev is a trans girl, she comes out in the eighth grade and her chosen name is devine. she still goes by dev but all her friends know what its short for

dev doesnt want to come out to her dad bc she doesnt know how hell react. (tbh if she did come out, her dad would be super supportive and good with prns and names and terms in public, but slip up a ton in private bc he doesnt care as much when people arent watching)

obv winn told jasmine and hazel about their crush right when it started developing, so it became kind of an inside joke between the three that winn has "transbian senses" after dev came out

just before ninth grade, winn decided to get a buzzcut, and theyve been growing it out ever since (this is mostly bc as much as i love dyed hair undercut enby/trans characters THERES TOO MANY PLEASE CHOOSE A DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLE FOR YOUR FICTIONAL TRANSES AND ENBIES SOBBING)

they bleached it blonde when it was about two inches long, and never bothered to cut off the blonde so now they just have blonde tips

winn ended up being 6'5" and joined varsity basketball in the tenth grade because they didnt wanna waste that height

dev stole their original varsity jacket because it was comfy (and because it was winns and it brings her comfort) and then paid for their replacement jacket

jasmine started learning how to sew and embroider clothes over the summer between ninth and tenth grade and so helped devine sew on her own name tag (dev just told her dad jasmine was a bad speller and tbh dale didnt care and was like ok son whatever)

dev ended up stuck at the spectacular height of a middle schooler (5'2") and winn thinks its adorable. theyre strong enough to pick her up whenever they hug her. sometimes when they get excited they spin her around

dev also started wearing her hair curly occasionally in the tenth grade bc winn told her she looked pretty with it like that. her dad doesnt like it when she doesnt slick it back and gets passive aggressive about it whenever he sees her like that

winn started getting panic attacks from all the pressure of high school after joining the basketball team, and dev usually ends up talking them through it, although jasmine and hazel are also good at helping them

they dont think their anxiety is bad enough to be a disorder so they never get a diagnosis/help (until Things Happen in my fic :]]] )

hazel and jasmine are both aroace (in this timeline at least, ive got a few other fic ideas where hazel is bi) and in a qpr. they are also fandom girlies and fic writers, so when dev finally tells them in the middle of tenth grade that she has a crush on winn (and has for a while) theyre both like OOOOOOOHHHHHH I SHIP IT and they, along with cosmo and wanda, start trying really hard to get them together

unfortunately hazmine and coswan have literally no idea how human teenage romance works irl SO. shenanigans ensue :]]]]]]]

anyways yeah thats my buildup to my fic/my personal hcs, no peri mention because hes ✨elsewhere✨ when all this is happening

[thevalleyisjolly]

As an intrinsic part of their Mortal heritage, I like to think that all the Half-Elven in Middle-earth have at one point in their lives (but most especially their youths) had a fairly unflattering haircut that they genuinely believed was the hottest shit ever:

Dior had a long feathered mullet that was a pure flex to show off how naturally full and voluminous his hair was. He only cut it once the twins were born and it became too much work to maintain while looking after two babies.

Elúred and Elúrin got their hands on an unattended bottle of hair dye when they were five and gave themselves skunk hair bangs that took months to wash out.

Elwing once experimented with teasing her curls into a big 80's hairdo because people told her how her father used to have big hair.

Eärendil had to cut his hair after a lice scare onboard one of Círdan's ships and went for a bowl cut that he thought would be quick and easy to do. Unfortunately, the bowl he used was a little too small and the high fringe made it look like he was wearing a small hat made out of hair. Idril had conniptions. Tuor managed to hold in his laughter until he could reach the privacy of an inner room. Elwing demonstrated the incredible power of love by both saying yes to his proposal and offering to neaten his fringe so that it at least looked a little less choppy.

Elrond stubbornly sported a man bun undercut for two whole years after he lost a bet with one of Maedhros' Mortal retainers and Maglor made a sighing comment about how he shouldn't worry because his hair would soon grow back out "nice again."

Elros gave himself curtained hair in solidarity with Elrond so that Maglor would get off his back, and kept it until the first time he commanded a war party and got good-naturedly ribbed to hell about looking like a 14 year old kid.

Like father like son, Elladan wore a rat tail for a few years after one of the Dunédain wagered he couldn't pull it off. He really couldn't, although he thought it looked great and was forever trying to do fancy styles with it until Elrohir staged a sibling intervention.

Elrohir maintained a buzzcut for nearly fifty years after his parents a little too amusedly said that he could do whatever he liked with his appearance now that he was of age.

Arwen went through a phase in her 200s where she dyed her hair with whatever colours she could get her hands on. The silver was very nice (Celeborn was extremely proud) and the blue highlights were interesting but still managed to work. She even made a decent ginger. However, the attempt at Arafinwëan gold just ended up a washed-out bleach blonde that is to date the only thing that has ever stunned Galadriel into utter speechlessness.

+Although not born Mortal, Lúthien spent a full Valinorean year with feathers instead of hair while trying to shape-shift into a nightingale. It actually made for quite an aesthetic when she took the time to preen them properly, but as she was far too busy running around having adventures with Daeron, the effect was more often ruffled bird's nest than sleek wings.

[undergaunts]

It’s Nice To Have A Friend

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (non-specific gender / house)

Summary: You’re eleven when you first meet Sebastian Sallow. His sister introduces him to you, after finding yourself in the same boat as them, sailing across the Black Lake towards the colossal castle ahead.

Rating: Mature (not extremely detailed smut but it’s there when the characters are aged 18+)

Word count: 2.1k

Read on AO3 or below the cut <3

You’re eleven when you first meet Sebastian Sallow. His sister introduces him to you, after finding yourself in the same boat as them, sailing across the Black Lake towards the colossal castle ahead.

He’s short, with a chubby face, freckles splattered across pale skin like stars in the night sky, mousy brown hair a windswept mess on his head. He doesn’t say much, just gives you a shy smile, and you decide you much prefer his sister, who is chatty and kind and makes you feel less nervous.

You don’t speak to him much, until a few days later in your very first Charms class, his sister introduces you to their new friend; a skinny little thing of a boy, with white-blond hair and deep bags under his unusual eyes. Somehow, from then on, the four of you fall into a comfortable friendship, and you thank whatever magical entity that is looking down on you for not letting you continue on alone.

*

You’re twelve when you decide Sebastian Sallow is your best friend. He’s laughing at something you’d said, the dim light of the Undercroft reflecting on his face, cheeks turning red from the joy you’ve brought him.

And you’re laughing too - you’d tried not to, to keep a straight face to make your comedy hit harder, but it’s impossible with him around. You’d like to sit in here with him forever, to make hilarious jokes about your teachers, to chat about Quidditch - to just enjoy each others company.

There’s a light shining in his eyes, something you don’t think you’ve seen before, and it’s that moment you decide he is your best friend in the entire world, and how lucky you are to have him.

*

You’re fourteen when you develop a crush on Sebastian Sallow.

You almost don’t recognise him after your summer break. In fact, you walk straight past him, and only realise it’s him when you recognise his voice.

The warm weather has done wonders. He’s grown a foot, lost all of the puppy fat around his cheeks. He’s tanned, hair sun-bleached and you swear his eyes are more golden, too, surrounded by long, beautiful lashes. He pulls you into a hug when he sees you, and you feel your heart skip a beat, stiffening in his hold.

You curse yourself. He’s your very best friend, so you spend the rest of the year trying desperately not to let yourself fall in love.

*

You’re sixteen when you realise you’re hopelessly in love with Sebastian Sallow, and spend the a month crying into your pillow, realising what a fool you are for letting it happen.

You’d done so well for two years - convincing yourself you only liked him, and definitely only in a platonic way - but the day when he punches another student square in the face for saying something horrific about you (so disgusting it made your stomach churn when you overheard it), and he threatens to do it again, if anything even remotely similar was said, you realise you’re in love with him.

It’s stupid, really. You can’t bear to face him for ages afterwards, but he eventually corners you after a solo study session, and apologises for what he did, thinking you hated him for it.

It’s not that, you say, and then thank him for standing up for you, because no one else does.

He hugs you, like he’d done multiple times before, but this time you don’t stay still or lose your breath. You melt into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, eyes closing and relishing the comfort of him.

You want him to hold you like this forever. You want him to kiss you, to sweep you off your feet and promise you he’ll never let go.

But after a moment he pulls back, patting the top of your head like you’re a puppy with a stupid, lopsided grin, and leaves you standing in the middle of the Library, ready to fall to your knees with heartache.

*

You’re seventeen when you finally tell Sebastian Sallow that you’re in love with him.

You hadn’t planned it. In fact, you’d planned to never tell him. You’d take this secret to your grave. You’d decided he’d marry, probably one of your fellow seventh years (afterall, he was a massive flirt, and it wouldn’t be hard for him to start dating someone, if he wanted), and have kids with whoever he chose, and die happy.

You, on the other hand, were to spend the rest of your days pining, wishing for what could’ve been, if only you were brave enough.

But it’s a cold Winters day when you see him on a date with girl from your house, in the middle of Hogsmeade, holding her hand, and right there you realise you can’t take it anymore. The thought of him with someone else, let alone him actually being with someone, turns your stomach to knots, and you feel vomit rise in your throat.

You don’t realise, but he spots you as you run past, heading up towards The Old Fool. He excuses himself from his date, and follows you, calling after you.

You don’t hear him. You let your feet carry you, straight into the graveyard, and breathless, you topple onto the wet grass.

It’s dramatic. It’s stupid.

And then Sebastian is crouching in front of you, and you might think he was a ghost in the moonlight if you hadn’t got his face memorised like the back of your hand.

You apologise, and he asks what for? For ruining his date, you say. He scoffs, and says it was rubbish anyway. But you looked like you were enjoying it, you retort, and his face reddens. It was a mistake, he shakes his head, he certainly won’t be taking her out again, what a bore.

You catch yourself, before you say something idiotic, like you never find me boring, but then he sits down in front of you on a worn down stone, cross-legged and concerned, taking a hold of your hand, squeezing it, as if he could provide any comfort, unaware he was the source of your pain.

And as you look at him - he’s painfully beautiful, and you’re painfully in love - you decide you truly don’t think you could take a lifetime of wanting over him. His heart pulls you in, and Merlin be damned, if he decides to leave you broken on the cobblestones, at least you tried.

So you tell him. You tell him you’ve loved him for years. He’s your very best friend, but you’re in love with him. And you’d hate for it to change anything, but you just had to tell him. You can’t bear seeing him with anyone else. It’s not fair, and you’re sorry, but it just isn’t.

Instead of walking away, or ridiculing you, he laughs.

You’re reminded of your times in the Undercroft, making each other giggle and playing games for hours on end.

You’re reminded of that first day you met, and the first time your year was allowed to Hogsmeade and he took you straight to Honeydukes to treat you to varying sweets.

And the year you stayed with him and his sister for Christmas. And staying up late to watch the New Years firework, watching rainbows reflect in his eyes. All versions of him collide in that moment. All of Sebastian Sallow, is sitting there in front of you. Laughing.

The laughing makes you nervous, embarrassed, regretful, but there’s no time to worry. He leans forward, and presses his lips against yours. Gentle, wanting, love. All you’d ever wanted. Entirely him.

It’s short, but only because he pulls back, to tell you how long he’s waited for you to say that. How he’s loved you since that very first boat ride. How he could never imagine you loving him, of all people. Terrible, awful him.

This time it’s your turn to laugh - terrible and awful certainly not words that come to mind when thinking of him - and you feel stupid for not telling him sooner.

So this time, you lean in to kiss him, and you decide you’ll never love anyone else.

*

You’re eighteen when you have sex with Sebastian Sallow for the first time.

You’d spent weeks, months, being patient. Hours spent kissing, exploring, teasing, tasting…

But each time it got to the point of no return, Sebastian had, well, returned.

Nights dreaming of him, even days dreaming of him. Many a magic history class spent imagining all the things he might do to you. All the things you’d do to him

He was yours (and proudly so - you couldn’t get him off of you, always holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you in front of your fellow students), but not entirely. Not yet.

So you finally ask him. He’s taken aback, sitting on the grass just outside the walls of Hogwarts on a fine Spring day, squinting as the sun almost blinds him. He’s god-like; shirt sleeves rolled up around his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, brows furrowed and hand pushing his hair off of his damp forehead.

Are you sure, he questions, and you nod. He asks again, and you still nod.

Then he pauses, with a long breath, and then admits he’s worried.

What about? you ask, sitting forward, closer to him.

That I’m going to hurt you, he says, with such honesty you feel like you’re being thrown against a wall.

You reach for his hand. You promise him he won’t, there’s no way he ever could, you’d tell him if he was, you love him, you want this, more than anything.

The fear melts off his face, and he smiles.

So later, you meet at outside the Slytherin common room, and head to the Undercroft, ensuring no one else is there, or able to get in. Entirely yours.

It’s awkward, as most first times are. He’s all long limbs and shaky hands and you’re fumbling at his shirt buttons, eyes glazing as he touches you in the way you’d always dreamed. As his confidence grows he finds a better rhythm, biting your neck, slipping hands under waistbands and tugging clothes away from skin.

He mutters a transfiguration spell under his breath, and a large crate becomes a bed. You don’t realise it, until much later, too focused on him to even care.

Touching him is something else entirely. The moans you can elicit from his lips are utter filth, and you think you might burst at the seams just from that.

But then, once you’re both ready, and he double, triple checks you’re still absolutely certain, he makes love to you, holding you tightly, gripping at skin so tight he might leave bruises, but you don’t care, you don’t care, not one bit.

He makes you come undone, once, twice, unravelling like a loose piece of thread on an old scarf, and he follows you not long after. All those years you’d spent at Hogwarts, and this was the truest magic of it all.

So you lay there (finally realising the bed beneath you, with a slight giggle), with his arms wrapped around you, leaving kisses along your skin, basking in the afterglow of the most wonderful thing you’d ever done, and ever hope to do again.

And he whispers that he loves you into your neck, as sleep lulls you, warm and inviting, your back tucked against true love, personified.

*

You’re twenty when you marry Sebastian Sallow.

He’d proposed on the shore of the Black Lake, where you’d both first met, stuttering over his words and almost in tears, nervous to his very bones. But of course you’d accepted, eagerly.

It’s a small, intimate, wedding, with only your closest friends in attendance, at the Sallow family home in Feldcroft. You swear to care for him, to stay by his side. You swear to love him, for the rest of your days, and Merlin, do you mean it.

You celebrate into the evening, until the stars shine in the sky. You thank everyone for coming as they leave, and then finally, you and Sebastian are alone. Married.

He smiles at you, the moonlight dancing across your faces, then takes you in his arms and pulls you close. You melt into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, eyes closing and relishing the comfort of him.

You want him to hold you like this forever. You want him to kiss you, to sweep you off your feet and promise you he’ll never let go. Just like you had wanted all those years ago.

Only this time, you’re absolutely certain he will.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

.

.

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

.

.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

.

.

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

.

.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

.

.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

[ingravinoveritas]

Did you see this picture yet? The first thing I realized was Michael's hand on David's back and their lovely smiles.

Hello! Yes, I did certainly see this group picture that was posted this morning, after every other picture had been posted. This is from Georgia's Insta, so for those who haven't seen the original post, here is a screenshot, along with a close-up of Michael and David, so we can see a little better:

It seems that Georgia's hashtag has been causing some confusion due to her use of an idiomatic expression, so for non-native speakers, the word "tits" has multiple meanings--colloquially, it's another word for breasts, but in British slang, a "tit" also refers to someone who is a fool or an idiot. So Georgia is saying here that she has tits, Anna has tits, and Michael and David are a pair of "tits" (idiots), which gives us the number three.

I did notice and enjoy that there is a "beading" theme to this picture, between David's suit and Anna's dress. I actually very much like her dress and how flattering it is, and it's something I would wear myself, although probably in a different color than white. I also love the way David's jacket sparkles, and there is something about him wearing it while standing next to Michael (who looks one box of bleach away from Aziraphale) that makes it have even more of a "the angel and the Starmaker" vibe to it. Because it's them. You know?

That was a large part of the impression I had of this picture, as it were. Of there being two distinct couples here, but perhaps not the couples you'd assume. It actually reminds me a lot of the picture that the four of them took in Lapland last year, which also looked like two gay couples rather than two straight ones. They all seem to look very comfortable in this arrangement as well, in a way that I felt was somewhat absent from a few of the pictures that were posted yesterday.

To your point, though, I did notice Michael's hand on David, and the warmth that radiated out just from that single touch. His hand is also noticeably low on David's waist, which echoes how we've seen Michael with his arm around David in the past, and is a lovely complement to David's hand being near Michael's neck. Michael's hair is also a bit disheveled compared to the red carpet photos, and I love the idea of it being messed up from a snogging session he and David were having in a coat closet before the girls pulled them out for a pic. Actually possible? Maybe, maybe not. But it's still a delicious thought.

Another thing I noticed is that there is something to the way Michael and David draw the eye in this picture. Georgia and AL are posing/smiling in the same exact way they do in every group picture...although unlike the others, this one wasn't a selfie, and so I wonder if that could be why they seem to be giving off a sense of discomfort to the camera. With Michael and David, the feeling is more one of hesitation. The warmth and crackliness and connection is still there, of course, but it's also almost as if they're holding back, somehow. Which doesn't seem very much like them, at least from what we've all see over the years.

It is a nice picture overall, though, which makes it unfortunate that Georgia's caption sort of takes away from the moment a bit. And given that she's been in the habit of adding these types of cutting comments/tags to a lot of her recent posts, it feels less like "British humor" and more like knowingly taking a dig at Michael and David. She could have just as easily posted the group pic without the hashtag, so at least for me, that's what makes her using it feel so deliberate.

So those are my thoughts on the Oliviers group picture. I am glad that we actually did get one of Michael and David, and to know that they did have the chance to interact at the event. I'd love to hear what other folks think as well, so feel free to add your perspective in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

[crazylittlejester]

HI HI HI

You should yell about the blorbo. I'd love to hear about some warriors HC's you have.

I also have a HC and I'd love to hear what you think about it.

I've always HC'ed Warriors as having an adoptive son/daughter. And I low-key see him as a princess dad. The man is totally dressing up for his daughter's tea parties in the castle with her best friend the queen.

Please yell about your blorbo, I want to hear about him. :DDDD

HI HI HI IVE BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO YELL AND YAP I SHALL!!!!

First of all: Yes absolutely. I headcanon Wars as on the ace spectrum, I don’t think that man is having biological children. I kinda see him as someone who would decide to NOT have children, because he doesn’t think it’d be fair of him to raise a child because he thinks he’s too mentally messed up for that (despite the fact that Time and Wind both turned out FINE), but one day he just ✨Acquires✨ a child and that’s just the end of it he’s a father now.

The specific headcanon I have for him regarding having kids is after the war, he does his best to help the areas of Hyrule that were just DESTROYED, and so many civilians lost their lives and orphanages were just overflowing, and he does his best to put money into those places to help out and he visits and tells the kids stories and makes sure they’re actually being treated well and helps them get families, and one day he just comes across this little girl who’s not counted for at any of the orphanages and her parents are gone, and he tries to get her set up in one but she’s just too attached to him and he’s got such a soft spot for kids he just adopts her because she was just so miserable there and kept begging the people at the orphanage to make him come back. And that’s his little girl now, she’s his princess he’d fight the entire war again in a heartbeat just for her. He absolutely dresses up for tea parties with her, he lets her do his hair and makeup, he’ll walk down the halls holding her hand while she skips and Zelda has never in her LIFE seen him so genuinely happy. He’s an absolutely WONDERFUL father, despite his own doubts in himself, and that little girl grows up with “Aunt Zel” and “Aunt Impa” teaching her how to kick ASS (plus Aunt Linkle, who’s her actual aunt being Link’s brother and all, and Linkle helps her befriend the cuckoos)

Other Wars headcanons I have!!:

- He has a significant amount of gray hair but you can’t see it because he bleaches and dyes his hair (I HC it’s naturally a very dark brown and also curly, but he straightens it)

- Writes his journals in his first language because it’s not a common one in Castle Town and it makes him feel better to know that if anyone DID get their hands on it, they’d at least be slowed down because they’d have to translate it

- His left hand shakes sometimes because of old injuries and overuse, and it’s not as strong as his right. Sometimes it’s hard for him to use his sword and shield because of it, so he’ll either use his sword with two hands for support or just use his fire rod

- He has quite a few scars on his face but he can either cover them COMPLETELY with makeup or make them look light enough to not be super jarring (depending on how deep the scars are)

- I HC he doesn’t like things up against his neck, so he’ll wear only tunics/shirts that are very low cut in the front and his scarf is pinned so securely in place that it is IMPOSSIBLE for him to be strangled with it unless the end was grabbed and THEN wrapped around his neck

- Not the world’s best cook. He can make comfort dishes from home his mom used to make for him, but not a whole lot of other things. He has memorized recipes and hasn’t tried too much with experimenting and making new ones

- High spice tolerance, but mentally he can’t handle it because it makes his tongue buzz and he’ll freak out and panic because he can’t tell if it’s spice or poison

- Autistic with lower support needs. He masks incredibly well but that doesn’t make him any less autistic and that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t struggle