#the three loves of my life made me art today

[crepesuzette2023]

So whats like the general consensus about Stu and John? Do we think they ever messed around or not?

Ooooh, I won't burn and scar my typing fingers on anything like "general consensus," and my cop-out answer is: depends on who you ask. I mean, if you're living in a world where 'a man being with a woman' = straight, or 'a man who never came out unequivocally as queer' = straight, then John and Stu very much never messed around, and, more importantly, didn't feel the desire to.

But I think if you look at it with an open mind, without being afraid of the possibility, you'll see it's more likely they did than that they didn't.

First, you have John, with his life-long romantic idea of being in love with your creative partner (see: his comments on Yoko and Paul)—an idea that fits Stu seamlessly, and perhaps even started with him. In the Hunter Davies bio, John (in '67) calls Stu Paul's predecessor in the 'my trusted partner in art' role.

There is also this conversation with Stu's girlfriend, Astrid Kircherr, as related by Backbeat director Iain Softley:

Paying tribute to Astrid this week, film director Iain Softley revealed her moving words from his interviews with her when he made 1994 movie Backbeat about her and Stuart’s romance.

They hint at a complex relationship between her, Stuart and John. She said it was only after Stuart died that she and John “took a load of pills” and talked for 12 hours about “all the things on our minds about Stuart”. “‘He was jealous when Klaus and I fancied Stuart more, and took him home and left John out,” she told Iain.

“He told me he really loved Stuart, but was afraid of the feeling.”

Iain adds: “I think she thought he meant as a friend, I don’t think there was any suggestion they were in a relationship. But Stuart had always been John’s best friend, they shared a flat in Liverpool. John would write to Stuart as ‘Jesus Christ to John the Baptist’, in the sense Stuart was showing him the way. He looked up to him.

“There was a sense John didn’t want Stuart taken away from him, he didn’t want Stuart to stay in Hamburg.

“At the same time he was very fond of Astrid, but I think there was a conflict there.”

If John was afraid of the feeling, then I'm thinking he felt something that, at the time, and probably still today, was a scary thing to feel. I'll leave it at that.

Also, they were, what? 18, 19, 20 years old? At that age, odds are you do fool around, even if you regret it afterwards. Nothing wrong with that.

Look at this picture of Stu (r.) with Astrid and Astrid's ex, Klaus Voormann. Klaus, who later said he and Astrid didn't work as a couple because she wanted him to be exactly like her image of him, and whose marriage (to a woman) was a platonic marriage of convenience, according to himself. We have now reached the beautiful stage of come onnn! "Straight" was at the party, but so were many others. These relationships were messy! That's awesome!

And how do we feel about John feeling up Gene Vincent, while Paul and George look on knowingly, and Pete Best blanks out? We feel joyous and unsurprised.

A word about Paul vs. Stu, since we're (sort of) at it.

It's possible (what an understatement) to think of their rivalry as sexual rivalry. This is, once more, hinted at in Backbeat, where Stu is more or less giving away John to Paul.

And yet. I think it was more than that. I think everyone, back then, was fighting for more than a bed-partner. They were fighting for their future, for a life unlike their parents'. Paul was fighting for the band, Stu was fighting for John to join him on his artist's way (even giving 'rock'n'roll' a try), and John..

John was, on the one hand, the person either of the others felt he needed in order to realize his dream. But on the other hand, he was the least decided of the three. He may have perceived that, within the trio, he had the fewest fall-back options: Stu had his obvious, much-mentored artistic talent. Paul had a possible academic future bwxt to his musical talent, plus a clear determination to make it in music. John had talent in spades, but perhaps less of a clear-cut idea of where and how to apply it. So he tried keeping both of them close...?

With fun scenes like these as a result:

John sure is feeling campy/cuddly, while Paul is incandescent with rage. A hot look for both of them.

In the end, we don't know if they ever did fool around. My usual reply in those cases is: I hope they did, if they both wanted it. I hope it was good.

I need to check out this book:

John and Paul look happy.

#asks #Stuart Sutcliffe #John Lennon #Astrid Kircherr #Paul McCartney #Backbeat #Iain Softley #mclennon #lenncliffe #it's just handy to fuck your best friend #until it isn't

[yououghtaknow]

ben platt was so right when he said (to paraphrase) your heart can break so much that it breaks open and lets love in. that's 2023 to me baby.

#experienced Real grief and heartbreak for the first time in my life #lived alone for most of the year and really Grew Up because of it #lost the three people i was closest with and lost the person i became for them to love me (which is a good thing) #learned a lot about art and life and myself and what it means to Be Alive. #was this year objectively bad for me??? look at all my personal posts honey. #but i feel like i've Grown so much and i'm really proud of myself not Despite everything that happened but because of it #i'm not ashamed to have loved and made choices and to have been wrong about So Many Things!!! i am so young and always learning!!! #i feel like Myself for the first time in Years. and for the first time since i can remember i genuinely feel Fine. #a lot of things are bad and i have bad days (today was one of them) but!!! i am hopeful and i am Determined to survive and be happy. #i do not have to be great!!! i do not have to be good!!! i simply have to be and that is enough!!! #one thing i said this year that haunts me is when the person i was in love with told me i was being silly for having a panic attack #and i responded with 'why should i feel silly for experiencing true emotion?'. and that's just really guided me since i said it. #ANYWAYS. insane year for me. this time last year i was madly in love and denying So Much and this year i am Accepting and loving what i have #this has been the return of isaac's insane personal posts. which are happening So Much Less due to the healing but hey!! we ball!! #i love you friends who live in my phone <3 if you're still reading happy new year and may you find whatever you're searching for <3

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

Art Comic Credits : defudefu

#comic #chubby #Moonlit Longing #🎁💗! #Jumin #Han Jumin #Jumin x MC #Mystic Messenger #I LOVE THIS COMIC! JUST SAW IT TODAY FOR THE FIRST TIME AND! #IT MADE ME HAPPY AS A SOMEWHAT CHUBBY GIRL #AND I LOVE JUJUBEAR SO MUCH! HIS BLUEBIRD TWEET MADE ME FEEL HIS SINCERITY AND CARE TVT #AND HIS WORDS IN THE COMIC ARE SO COMFORTING AND SWEET I MIGHT MELT AAAA I LOVE JUJUBEAR MY HANNIBUNNY! #IT MAY HAVE STARTED AS AN INFATUATION BUT OUR HONEYMOON PHASE LASTED FOR THREE YEARS AND NOW COMING BACK TO HIM FOR NOSTALGIA !! #MAKES ME FEEL LIKE THIS IS HOW IT’S MEANT TO BE #WITH ME WARM SOFT AND IN LOVE WITH LIFE #I’LL NEVER FORGET THESE HEARTWARMING AND EXCITINGLY SWEET TIMES WITH MY JUJUBEAR #defudefu if this bothers you that I used your art please tell me and I’ll delete this post ! #but just know that your art comforts so many of us and I adore what you created !

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

#smut #fanfic #severus snape #harry potter #severus #severus smut #draco fanfic #lucius malfoy #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #mattheo riddle #riddlesmut #theoriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #tomriddle smut #riddle smut #theo riddle #theodore smut #tomriddlesmut #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #theodore nott smut #theo nott smut #theodore nott #draco smut

[chrollohearttags]

french tips • sanji x black!fem reader

your new nail tech suddenly becomes your favorite after an appointment you’ll never forget!

nail tech!sanji, modern au, him being a gentleman ofc (he’s not a perv in this, hadn't watched the live action but from clips, taz seems a lot more charming so that’s who i'm going with! 😭) massage, handjob, foot and nipple play, service dom, fingering, squirting, calls reader miss + my dear, praise kink, says good girl a couple times, sanji has a tongue ring

word count: 2.5K

whoever sent this idea, thank you for your contribution. I don’t know if you are being serious or facetious but either way, you have awoken something in me. sanji fuckers, come get y’all’s juice!!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

you were a little hesitant…downright apprehensive even. You’d been coming to this shaking for years and each time, you sat in the same chair, got nearly the same services and entrusted your beauty needs to the same hands. “I’m sorry, (y/n). She’s on vacation right now and won’t be back for at least three weeks.” “I understand but I wish she would’ve told me before I booked the appointment..” you were flustered and rather frustrated to boot..you had an important event coming up and the last thing you needed was your routine disrupted. It was already enough chaos in your hectic life! But nail tech!sanji was willing to swoop in and make things easier.

“Miss, if you don’t mind..I’d be more than happy to help you today. My next appointment isn’t for a few hours so I’ve got plenty of time to get everything taken care of.”

nail tech!sanji, who’d been an esthetician and licensed massage therapist for years, had just begun working there but his work and reputation far preceded longevity at this particular shop. The man was an absolute master at his craft and his catalog spoke for itself. He had won competitions, curated some of the most beautiful designs you’ve ever seen and worked with absolute proficiency. “Is there a specific design you’re looking for?” nail tech!sanji had also mastered the art of de-escalating tense situations. When working around women and people who did not play when it came to their appearances, he knew one wrong move could result in his head or termination so he was flawless in his final product..left with no other choice, you’d accept nail tech!sanji’s generous offer. “Fine. But if you screw up one thing on these nails, I’m done with this shop for good.” but little did you know, you’d be so glad that you did take the services from him! nail tech!sanji, who’s work area was absolutely spotless, smelled of vanilla incense and looked so out together, it shocked you. “I find vanilla helps soothe the senses…makes you feel a lot more relaxed. Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you and if at any time, I do anything wrong, you let me know. Okay, miss?” nail tech!sanji, who looked better suited for a repair shop with his tattoos, blonde wefts and tongue ring, certainly took you by surprise. He was gentle, attentive and made certain that you were comfortable. “Can I offer you some water? Or perhaps something else to drink?” As the nail salon you frequented also doubled as a bar. “No alcohol for me today, please. I drove. I’ll just take the water..” nail tech!sanji, who noticed that you were still nervous, decided to take your hand and redirect that tension.

“So tell me about this event. I’d love to hear about it if you don’t mind.” nail tech!sanji, who was not only kind but handsome and rather charming to boot. He had a great sense of humor and was very quick witted..this man who was all but a stranger thirty minutes ago, had you laughing and fanning yourself as he dabbed balls of acrylic onto your nails and sculpted your tips to perfection. nail tech!sanji, who did thorough work whilst also listening to you attentively as you divulged about your career and how you were going to be attending a gala for the company’s sponsors. “Sounds like it’s a room full of snobs.” “You don’t know the half but hey, they keep my bills paid so I can’t complain too much, I guess.” nail tech!sanji, who was absolutely smitten by you, couldn’t stop staring from across the table as he gently kneaded lotion into your hands. His touch was so soft and inviting, making you wish he’d never pull away. It didn’t help matters that he was so damn attractive! nail tech!sanji, who made your nails look the best they ever had, was pleased to see the smile on your face after he finished!

“..only the best for a valued customer and such a beauty at that. I do aim to please.” “I’d say you exceeded that. Thank you, mr. sanji..they’re gorgeous.” “Thank you for allowing me to take care of you. I’m honored.”

nail tech!sanji, who wasn’t quite ready to part ways with the gorgeous woman he’d come to be acquainted with, decided that he would take on all of your services today. Including your pedicure and massage…nail tech!sanji, who saw that you opted for the deluxe package, whisked you away to the private room with the entire setup. Something you’d always paid for. A massage bed in the corner and the pedicure chair with a tub full of milky liquid and rose petals scattered about…soft, ambient music playing from the speakers and waves displayed on a mounted television screen crashed around. It was so peaceful and just what you needed for the long week ahead and the one you’d just gone through. nail tech!sanji, who rolled up his sleeves as he sat down to work on your feet, made you chew at your bottom lip..weirdly enticed by the sight of his veins protruding from his forearms. But that wasn’t the only reason…he’d soak your heels and work on each one as the other marinated in the softening solution. nail tech!sanji, who delicately massaged up and down those calves, couldn’t help but to chuckle when he felt you slightly tremble yet again when he began to gently knead his fingers into your pressure points, causing you to melt right there! “Looks like someone enjoyed that. You’re really tense for some reason, miss..something on your mind?” Trying to feign the embarrassment of admitting that not only were slightly turned on by how gently this man handled you but the fact that beneath that skin tight sundress, you weren’t wearing any panties, as you had just come from your wax appointment before arriving here and he was seconds from getting an eyeful! “N-no, I’m fine. Just feels really good.” “Well that’s all I want to hear.” nail tech!sanji, who was quick to sense the energy shift, went to retrieve your polish of choice after rubbing your legs down in lotion and wrapping them in warm towels.

“White toes..good choice. And a personal favorite on a lady too.” “You’re a man of good taste then. I like that.” Causing the blonde to blush a bit himself..as he could tell you weren’t exactly some scared little girl. You were a grown woman..who was strong, handled her business and always got her way. Just his type! nail tech!sanji, who set up for your final service as he allowed your toes to cure under the gel lamp, began to dim the lights and lay out all his materials. Knowing that you were watching him carefully…snaking his tongue out intermittently to reveal that steel ball stuck between it. Not to mention the silver bands wrapped around his perfectly manicured fingers.

“..can I have you remove your clothes and wrap yourself in the towel, please? I can step out for a moment and you just let me know when you’re ready..” helping you from your seat as he removed that lamp and grasped your hand..this man was the epitome of a perfect gentleman and you were becoming more and more ecstatic that you had decided to come in today. But unbeknownst, the best was yet to come..nail tech!sanji, who’d stepped back in to find you lying across the table on your stomach, a single towel covering your frame and ready for him to work his magic. nail tech!sanji, who had to all but bite his fist to restrain himself as he inched closer and prepared to make you feel the best you had in ages…warming a palmful of oil as he rubbed them together. Waiting in anticipation, you’d glance back and be greeted with a smirk. When he began to knead your muscles with those strong hands, your body would immediately melt within his grasp. So carefully working out all the sores and kinks that had mounted throughout the stressful work week. Meetings, business negotiations, dinners with your bosses…it was all taking its toll. But if anyone could put you at ease, it was nail tech!sanji..

“How are we feeling, my dear?..”

“Amazing..you’re really good at this..”

and luckily for you, this wasn’t even the beginning. Because as he kept going, (y/n) began to release soft whimpers in response to those subtle touches. Chewing at your lower lip, you’d allow your mind to escape to a place that it should not have been. Abashedly, you didn’t want to admit it but it’d been quite some time since a man had touched you, less known, made you feel this damn good! It was apparent that he was no amateur..in many ways than once. “Mmmm…like that.” The words slipped out subconsciously but it didn’t even phase nail tech!sanji, he just chuckled and kept going. Everytime he moved, he questioned and asked for your permission to place his hands lower. By the time he reached your lower back, you’d let him know it was quite alright to do as he pleased. “Please…keep going. You know what to do..” you were never a promiscuous woman by any means but you were the kind to have your way..when you wanted it. And what you wanted right now…was for him to give in to his desires and take you right there!

“In that case…flip over f’r me and I’ll give you exactly what you need.” The sexual tension that had accrued between you two was undeniable and neither of you were interested in playing coy. So with the command being whispered into your ear, causing a shudder to run down your spine, you’d follow his command and turn over to lie on your back, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t help but to subtly grunt at the sheer sight of those erect, dark hues nipples and toned tummy. The only thing making it better was the glass colored liquid pooling across it and spreading as he rubbed it in. Your brown skin glistening underneath the hue of auburn lighting.. “..there we are..much better.” nail tech!sanji took his sweet time in caressing your body. Honing in on your stiff little buds and watching you squirm. Your dark eyes glaring through him with unadulterated lust. Especially when he’d wash his hands off and proceed to go lower beneath that cloth covering your upper thighs. “You sure know how to work your hands..” “I’m only getting started, my love. Just keep your eyes on me and don’t move…” his dominance was not only attractive but captivating. You needed him more than he could imagine! So much so, you’d reach over to grasp for his clothed erection that was growing from the confines of his pants. But nail tech!sanji was quick to halt you, gently clutching your wrist.

“Aht..not yet, gorgeous. It’s my turn.” Chuckling as he commanded you to lean up so you could watch his every movement. He’d part your legs as he kept an arm cradled behind your shoulders and the other between your thighs, working those nimble fingers on your sensitive spot. “Oh my gosh..” “…mmph, you’re soaking, pretty girl.” watching you writhe and whimper as those digits circulated your clit. nail tech!sanji, who latched his lips around your nipples and suckled as he moved about, working them inside of you..whispering into your ear, marking your throat with kisses and filling your head with sweet nothings as he clutched his hand around it. “Ooh..you needed this, didn’t you?…yeah, I know. Just need someone to take care of you every once in a while.” Pegging you to a tee..so independent and headstrong that sometimes, you forgot what it felt like to be spoiled. Clutching around his knuckles, you’d grasp for his arm and hold onto it as your lips met in passionate pecks. Exchanging saliva and whimpers in the process. Tasting one another as the kisses deepened. Sensing that mounting ball of pleasure forming in your core, he’d curl his index and middle digits to work that orgasm out of you. “Good girl..there you go. Keep fucking my fingers. Just like that..get yourself off..” nail tech!sanji, who was practically yearning to bury himself inside of your pussy, could no longer fight his own urges and gave you permission to stroke his cock, shuffling his waistband around to remove it. “Mmph, damn…” “..like what you see, miss?” Knowing that you were taken aback by his size and length. A glowing red tip with precum seeping out..you’d carefully take into your grasp as you stroked that shaft. You’d pleasure each other through lilted moans and stifled cries. Practically shoving your tongue down the other’s throats as you brought each other to ecstasy. “Should I speed up? I can if you need me to..” but you’d quickly decline, finding that the pace was perfect. He was equally as needy but his resolve outweighed his pleasure at the moment and he was determined to let you get yours before his own. Which wasn’t too far away..

“You wanna come, beautiful? It’s okay, you can tell me.” “Y-yes! Please, Sanji..” and with that, he commanded your release with a sharp tug upward and a quickened flick of his wrist..you’d finally cave and release. Letting out loud whimpers, along with a stream of juices, that soaked the table and your quivering thighs. nail tech!sanji, who enjoyed the sight of watching you writhe from his volition, was quick to get a sample of the mess he contributed to. Moving down your torso with the swipe of his tongue piercing, grazing your skin; lapping up those sweet juices from your center down to your thighs..leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he reached your calves and feet. nail tech!sanji, who’d place those freshly done toes into his mouth, sucking them momentarily as he concluded your massage.

“So..did I do a good job, my love? Satisfied with your service today?” Receiving by far the best compliment he’s ever gotten when you snatched him down and made out with him once more. Showing your gratitude. “I’ll take that as a yes..” giggling with him as the two of you came down from your climatic bliss.

y/n, who was apprehensive before coming in here, was now leaving happier than ever. And nail tech!sanji, who had never picked favorites among his clients, was now looking forward to your next appointment!

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tagging: @lotus-flower-writes @spaceforher @highpri3stess @themagnificentgoat @ichigosluvrr @ladymomo

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #one piece #one piece headcanons #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece x reader #black fem reader #black reader #black reader smut #one piece au #one piece modern au #op x reader #op modern au #op headcanons #sanji drabble #sanji headcanons #sanji vinsmoke #op sanji #sanji fanfic #sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece live action #one piece fic #one piece hcs #one piece drabble

[writingmeraki]

here and now.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married )

genre : angsty with fluff :)

warnings : reader is pretty miserable, cussing, cheol is mean but annoying mean, petnames, kissing, unhealthy routines.

author's note : ohhh i can't let go of these two, i rlly jst like this au a lot lol, i wonder if you would want more set in this same au, lmk hehe :) hope you like this !! but also the fact that i have other wips but i can't get this specific couple out of my head ???? very self indulgent bcoz tell me why i want this mingyu with me rn. also third work this month...let's hope we keep balling like that!!!

set in the SAME universe as this !

word count : 1.6k

The world was miserable.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and just lay in your bed, sleeping until you could no longer differentiate between reality and dreamland.

But alas, you couldn’t. As an agent, sleep to you was like a reward. One would think a need should never be something you get once in a while but, your job was practically making all your essentials feel like rewards. 

Mayhaps not the healthiest, but you were already used to it and your body as well, so you were not truly affected when you couldn’t get any of your essentials. 

Though, you were sure the world felt more miserable because you hadn’t seen him in so long.

Kim Mingyu, the man you married. Your husband.Your other half, your other puzzle piece, your other- you get the point. Six months, twelve days, and ten hours since you last saw him. 

He was gone on a mission that was supposed to take no less than a month, but who were you kidding? Who was your boss kidding? Top priority missions always took up time. 

The thing that still pisses you off is why you weren’t allowed to go with him. 

Apparently, you were needed back in Seoul and not there was the bullshit reason. You spent enough time being annoyed and angry at that, now you just felt terribly upset. Upset without him in your life physically, sure virtually he was one message away, but being on the complete opposite side of the globe also meant time zones were a pain in the ass.

Sighing, you made your way into the tall building disguised as one of the offices but it was where your agency was. You held a cup of coffee, that was just as bitter as your mood, in fact you didn’t even like coffee, but today you felt no point in trying to uplift your mood because the only thing that would was a certain person who you were not even sure when you’d meet. 

It was not you who felt this way, in fact Mingyu was probably feeling worse. Having been someone whose love language was physical affection, it did not feel the same through a fucking screen. He was ready to quit actually, three months into it because he terribly wanted to see you, but you convinced him he’d be back sooner if he finished it. 

You knew you were lying to him and yourself, but you had no choice. This was your duty right? 

The boss’ office was still as peculiar as he was, never failing to amuse you whenever you’d enter and always finding new collections or items decorating it. Today, you saw an art piece that was of the sun and the moon. 

Everything reminded you of him. He was your sun, even your moon too. 

You frowned more at the thought, wondering how the heck were you not able to not think of him for a few minutes. Then again, perhaps being together for more than a decade would do the trick. You’re practically bound permanently by that point. 

Sitting down on the cushion chair in front of Seungcheol, you didn’t even bother greeting him, still in thoughts until you heard a chuckle from in front of you. 

“What’s funny?”

“You look extra miserable today.” 

You glared at the man, annoyance changing into anger with retorts about how he’d feel if he was kept away from his partner for this long, considering he was someone who was pretty boastful about his partner. 

“But- I did not call you for that. I have a special mission for you. And no, I don’t have any updates on Mingyu.”

You groaned at his words, considering what he said was just getting worse and worse as he spoke. 

“For this though, you’ll have someone with you. You’ll be needing another person to complete this task. They should be arriving in a few minutes.” 

“Please don’t be a rookie, I don’t have the patience to deal with one, not right now.” You figured you couldn’t not do it. It was your job after all. But perhaps he’d be a little considerate. 

“Oh don’t worry, I think they are pretty experienced, maybe even more than you.” He grinned but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what he meant. His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t tell. 

“Just say you hate me, Cheol. It’s easier.” You bitterly spat out, taking a sip of the now cold coffee and frowning in distaste. It seemed it was up to par with your state. 

You leaned back, looking at the watch on your wrist, seeing it’s been a few minutes already and wondering just how long this person would take. 

You tried to pinpoint who it possibly was, but you were never good with names of people you might have seen in passing. That was more of Mingyu’s thing, he always remembered the forgettable things. 

The sound of the door opening was what made you perk up. You sat a little straighter, feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t make it outwardly obvious to the entire population how you were truly feeling. 

Seeing the chair pull, you didn’t bother looking besides you, feeling that seeing them from the corner of your eye was enough. They were a little further from you, but you could tell they were quite…large? They were wearing a cap and a mask, practically their entire body was covered with a black coat. It was suspicious and you just wondered if this was just an excuse for Seungcheol to have you murdered in a discreet way. 

Seokmin…? No, he's almost my height, probably Chan? 

You didn’t even realise the person had taken your coffee, pulled off their mask,took a sip of it and almost spat it out. 

“Baby this is actually so disgusting, since when did you drink this?” 

Wait.

You recognised that voice. 

He kept the cup back down on the table in front of you, wearing that very very familiar ring on his left ring finger. 

You think your brain short circuited at that very moment. 

Now you knew why Seungcheol had a sly grin. 

The fucker planned this. 

In all his glory, Kim Mingyu sat beside you, now seeing no point in wearing the cap, he tossed it off and threw it on the table. He shuffled his hair, which was now longer than you last saw it.

“Missed me?” He had the audacity to say that with his stupid canines peaking out, wearing that stupid grin that made you feel giddy all over and the stupid glint in his eyes that shone as he took you in.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Mingyu for making you feel like throwing up in all mixes of emotions. 

So in the mix of it, you just remained frozen. Eyes blank, nothing on your face physically to indicate any emotion. 

“I’ll leave you two…just don’t do…stuff.” Seungcheol retorted and your hands itched to strangle him. 

Before you could even comprehend you were now alone, you felt your chair being pulled to face him. Your mind still in disbelief and conflict.

“Hi.” He spoke gently, his hands now reaching towards yours and grasping them. It had been way too long since he smelt your signature perfume, held your hands in his with the same intensity, felt your touch. He thinks he might just die in peace now. 

“I’m just trying to figure out if I’m dreaming.” You murmured as you blinked slowly at him, still unmoving even though he now was bent down and closer to you.

The grin on his face widened as he leaned in, and next thing you know, you felt his lips on yours. 

Familiar…just like…home. 

He pulled back, still smiling as he softly laughed, “Real enough, darling?”

Mingyu wasn’t someone who was caught off-guard easily but he was the moment you launched forward and wrapped your arms around him. He yelped as he held you, surprisingly not toppling over.

You didn’t even grasp you were full on sobbing at that point, your entire body shaking and held you even more tightly. He stood up, one arm around your waist and the other gently rubbing your back. 

“I’m here now, I’m here.” He whispered softly as his hand caressed your hair, you moved your arms to wrap them over his shoulder as you placed your head in the crook of his neck. 

“i-i really-” missed you. I felt incomplete without you. I just…I really missed you. I really fucking love you.

You wanted to say as cheesy as it may have sounded, but cheesiness be darned you couldn’t hold back, not when the time apart made you realise that it didn’t matter if it was just another way of showing your love for him. You also realised Kim Mingyu deserved all possible ways of showing your love for him.

“I know, ‘s okay baby, I know.” You only sobbed harder as you pulled back, not caring how you looked, probably a whole mess with red eyes and tears all over, his arms were still around you as you held his face with both hands. 

He was there. You thought as you caressed his cheeks. He was there. You thought as he looked at you like he’d finally found his treasure,eyes twinkling, smiling at you.

And he was there, right there, with you as you tilted your head up, closing your eyes and placing your lips on his. 

Because no matter what or how long, Kim Mingyu would always find his way back to you, his other forever half. 

And oh, you’d make sure he was never apart from you from then on. Not even for a day. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

#[ pri works ] #mingyu x reader #svt #svt fic #svt mingyu #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt reactions #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #mingyu x y/n #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

[chronicallycouchbound]

Let People On Food Stamps Eat Hot Meals

Particularly on cold, rainy days (like today), while unhoused, sometimes all I want is a hot meal but it’s so difficult (if not impossible) to cook outside in the rain.

On top of this, I’m physically disabled and chronically ill. Medically, I’m supposed to have assistance with making meals as part of in home care. But I can’t get in home care without a home.

I just finished making dinner for my partner and I, it took 2 hours (3 if you include clean up). My knees are burning, my back is aching in it’s core, I feel like I’m about to faint, and all my joints are screaming. But it’s the only way we could have a hot meal today and get some protein, which is vital for our health conditions.

People judge us for using what little funds we have on McDonald’s some days. Because sometimes, it’s the only hot meal we’ve had in days. And sometimes I’m physically unable to stand, move, and do all the actions needed to cook. Or I faint while cooking. Or the rain doesn’t let up. Or we don’t have access to a kitchen for the day. Or the fire danger outside is too high. The list goes on.

Without my own kitchen to use, I don’t get to sit down while I cook (right now, everything is wet from the rain), I can’t meal prep, I can’t stock up on freezer meals, I can’t use an oven or a microwave to reheat leftovers, I can’t just reach across the kitchen for a fridge item (we have a small amount of fridge space friends let us use), everything about cooking is exponentially harder.

And even if I had 24/7 access to an accessible, full kitchen, it’s not even physically safe to cook my own meals. Even then, having a pre-made, hot, ready-to-eat meal could keep me safe and give me independance.

And all the safety needs for hot meals aside, emotionally, hot meals are also life saving and comfort. Meals are a part of community, culture, love and art.

So many gatherings we have as communities center around food. Most people in the United States would think of ones that often hold great value to Western culture. Mother’s Day breakfast. Spaghetti fundraisers. Wedding cakes. Birthday dinners. Bake sales. Carnival treats. BBQs on weekends. Holiday roasts. Lunches with friends. Casseroles brought to grieving neighbors.

Our world revolves around food.

I firmly believe that no poor person could ever “take advantage” of a system designed to feed us by using food stamps on hot food. This restrictive rule serves no purpose but to punish the most vulnerable of poor people— unhoused, disabled, and those of us living in unsafe conditions.

It also serves to restrict our access to joy and comfort. The joy can sometimes come from the food itself, but also the joy from having shared experiences solidified by the sounds of laughter and forks clinking on plates. The comfort can sometimes also be from the food itself, but also the experience of being loved and cared for while your close friend brings you pizza from your favorite restaurant because you lost your drive to eat three weeks ago and they worry about you. They know you. Those slices of pizza bring color back into your world.

Poor people deserve to be able to have the comfort, joy, and care that goes into a hot meal. We deserve the autonomy to choose foods that are best for us ourselves. We deserve to be able to eat in ways that are accessible to us.

Above all, we deserve access to hot meals.

Originally posted to my blog on 6.3.22

#disability #chronically couchbound #disabled #cripple punk #cripplepunk #disabled pride #disability pride #unhoused #homelessness #poverty #homeless #housing crisis #houselessness #houseless #ebt #ebt food stamps #foodstamps #food stamps #food stamps ebt #poor #food pantries #food banks #food bank #homeless youth #disabled homeless #food sovereignty #poor rights #unhoused rights #homeless rights #chronic homelessness

[hellenhighwater]

I am utterly fascinated by how much cool stuff you do and am incredibly curious at how you have time to do it all. Did you just get really lucky with whatever job you have that allows you the free time and energy outside of it to do all you do? Do you simply have a mastery over this aspect of adulthood? Is it witchcraft?

I went to law school to be an artist. Which is to say--I specifically picked a field of work that I found interesting, and engaging, and which paid decently (and I say decently because by lawyer standards my salary is a joke, but it comes with a pretty excellent work-life balance and work that I truly do like) and which uses basically zero creativity. I don't tap into Art Brain for my job at all. I do my 8-5 every day and I have art stewing in the back of my head the whole time, and when I clock out I tap into a whole different aspect of self to work on projects.

I don't have an exceptional amount of free time--I do work full time--but I also don't sleep a lot? so maybe I get a couple extra hours a week that way. And I have ADHD, so when the hyperfocus hits I am going, regardless of whether or not I should actually be doing something else.

Part of it is just the fact that I'm only going to do what I want to. With the exception of the three commissioned paintings I'm working on, and a couple holiday gifts, I'm doing all of this because I just really want to do it. I don't have to force myself to do this because my bills depend on it. If it's not something I'm genuinely excited about, it's probably not going to get made. And sometimes I'm just tired out, and I do nothing. I got in a couple hours of painting after work today, but that was it; I made dinner and I've been vegging since then. It's fine.

But mostly this stuff is passion projects. I do it because I love to do it and it's easy to chose to do what makes me happy.

Maybe it's a little witchcraft.

#also it def has phases #i'll go through less productive seasons #and thats fine

[rowretro]

𝒟𝒶𝒹𝒹𝓎 𝐼𝓈𝓈𝓊𝑒𝓈

✧warnings: mentions of abuse, blood, daddy issues ofc but nothing sexual. Mentions of jealousy-ish

♡synopsis: Riki is your sweet boyfriend, the 2 of you have been dating for 3 years now, you've all had your days, but it seems to him you have the shittiest day everyday. Despite having moved in with him, the way you always go back to your parents home, running about doing errands for a man who always hurts you. The first man in every girl's life that should be a challenge to top off by a boyfriend or husband, was Riki's sworn enemy now.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

"Sweetheart where are you off to?" Riki asked, knowing the answer full well. "I got a certificate for my final piece in art Riki... I'm just gonna show my dad-" she said with a smile as Riki sighed he hated it. How you still believe abuse is just a part of life. How you blame it all on the alcohol instead of the man himself.

All that hate doesn't just come from a bottle, he just lets out the shit he buried deep in his heart. Why won't you get that. He knew you won't listen so he just kissed your forehead "Call me if you need help ok? I'll be as lowkey as I could" Riki assured sternly as y/n nodded. She was nervous. Like a certificate is going to change anything. Art is just another useless thing about her useless existence. She wanted to go home for a different reason.

She wanted to clear out her room in that house. She wanted everything of hers to be out of that building. She wanted to be free from their grip. The abuse, the slut shaming, the hurtful words that made her cry waterfalls though she promised herself she'll never cry. Not even her mother can stand up for her, even if she wanted to.

"You think you're going to last with such a rich handsome man?!... He'll realize sooner or later, he's wasting his life on something so useless. You're a clear anomaly in our family, of course he'll leave you one day. Not even we want you... you slutty thing." Her father scoffed, as he watched her ignorantly pack her things.

"Are you even fucking listening you whore?! this is why I love you sister more." The man mumbled as you froze. SHE was the one who actually helped the family at their worst. SHE was the one who patiently put up with their crap. What did her sister do? go to a better school than you and get higher grades despite being a disrespectful spoiled rat that's what.

What's the big deal anyway? she's leaving "Fine you keep trusting that angel of yours while I go lead a successful life and get rich." she said leaving the room, the man pulling her back by her hair. Was she going to give him the reaction? no. She just silently pulled away. She looked and acted unbothered, and fuck the man was pissed off.

"you're home late- babe you ok? clearly not-" Riki helped her in, blinking as he saw a suitcase behind her "what's this about?..." he asked, feeling a little scared. was she going to leave him? "The last of my belongings... I have no reason to go ho- to my parents house." she simply said as she dragged the suitcase upstairs.

Only three weeks had passed since then, Riki wanted to believe y/n felt free and happy, but he caught her crying on multiple occasions like today. But unlike other days, where he let you get a breather, he wanted to be there for her. So he was. Her crying in his arms, wanting nothing more than him.

"So what if your daddy doesn't like you?.... You have me y/n, my love is way bigger than any man's love and you know it." He said as he kissed her forehead. It's true, all this time she's been moping over daddy hating her. When actually she has Nishimura Riki pouring his love for her unconditionally. Why waste her tears on a piece of shit when she has Riki.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

This is shit bro why tf did I think I cld write fluff?....

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #heeseung x reader #jongseong x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon au #enhypen #riki x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #heeseung fluff #sunoo fluff #riki fluff #jongseong fluff #jake fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #kflixnet #niki imagines #kpop fic #kpop #kpop imagines #niki fluff #enhypen niki #niki

[alonetimelover]

Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.

masterlist taglist

famous!reader 1 2

——————————���———————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others

pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.

Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.

Find your pleasing.

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles All smiles ♥️

yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹

harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???

ynupdates some cute babies

hArrysbtch oh my gooood

harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours

user49 babies for ads?

user84 im conflicted now

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others

yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit

view all 99 302 comments

harrystyles My two favourite girls

⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?

⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good

harryupdates weren't they just born?

⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks

hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry

⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth

⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists

⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others

harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!

view all 920 comments

hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???

⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?

⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh

ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting

stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?

⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there

ynsmybestie taking care of business

——————————————————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others

pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.

'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.

Find Your Pleasing.

view all 83 302 comments

harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand

⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective

yourinstagram My two artists!!!

annetwist ❤️

hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them

harryupdates This. Is. Art.

ynupdates well hello you

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others

harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'

view all 103 302 comments

yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details

⤷ harrystyles Perfect.

hArrysbtch that's the same picture!

ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room

⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'

⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh

ynsmymama melting

harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD

⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out

⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others

yourinstagram here's to the best father i know

(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.

⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there

⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1

⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy

hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces

⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD

⤷ ynsmybestie i love her

harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad

harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?

⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fluff #dadrry #famous!reader

[luna-andra]

StepDad!König Headcanons (SFW & Wholesome) ✨

Image @cozyhuii (@miss_bozo on Twitter)

Headcanons I thought up of König being a step daddy to reader's kid

A/N: Y'all got my very first König headcanon list to 600+ notes earlier today and I had to pump this one out. I had been in a writing rut for a while (still kind of am? But I'm finding my way back) and this is my way of showing my gratitude. StepDad!König originally was something I did for me (König being step daddy to my kid? YES PLEASE) but I made this gender neutral (& gn kid) like the other ones 🖤

Domesticated!König Series: Part 1 Part 2

I write other stuff too! Masterlist here 🖤

👑 His reaction was the better outcome you had thought up when König found out you had a kid from a previous relationship. Why would that deter him from continuing to date you? He was a man that didn’t view single parents as “spoiled goods”, and would quite frankly curb stomp someone if they heard them refer to you as such.

👑 He was aware of the possibility of you postponing and rescheduling dates, and unfortunately they did happen. “Sitter canceled? No problem.” “Mom/Dad bailed on their weekend? I get it.” You were so relieved by his patience and empathy for the times plans would fall through.

👑 It was clear to König that you were going to hold off on introducing him to your child. He had great respect for that rule, it meant you were very keen on not having a revolving door of people coming in and out of that kid’s life.

👑 As time went on, he would always show an active interest in your child by asking how they are doing in school? Did they still like [insert movie/TV show here]? He hoped they liked the treats he had bought at the PX on base.

👑 But the one time you seemed extremely defeated and bummed out about another postponed date, he took his chance and threw out the idea of hanging out - the three of you - at your house. You hesitated, but it had been nearly long enough for you to be okay with it. The guilt weighed on you considering it had been a hot minute since the two of you had any time for each other. König was such a sweetheart, reassuring you that this is how he wanted to spend his time, with you and your kiddo.

👑 Almost every date after that became an outing with the three of you. He was referred to as Onkel König by your child, a title that warmed his gigantic heart.

👑 Came to every sports game/martial arts competition/band or orchestra event/etc. Became as active as the bio mom/dad (if they were still around) in their extra-curricular activities. He didn’t want to miss a single thing.

👑 Speaking of bio mom/dad/ex-spouse, he made the conscious effort to be acquainted with them if they were still present in Kiddo’s life. As long as they were cordial, so was König.

👑 Spoiled the hell out of Kiddo for Christmas and birthdays. They wanted for nothing and sometimes you hated it but were also thankful that he has come to love a child that originally wasn’t his.

👑 We all know König is of older age given his rank of Colonel. It’s so funny when he has to ask you about lingo the younger kids use. “What is bussies and why do they want to go there so much?” That was fun explaining it to König as his face grew intensely pink at his ignorance. It’s best if he comes to you every time he hears something new fly out of that kid’s mouth.

👑 He always used German terms of endearment for the both of you, and Kiddo picked up German the more time they spent with König. It forced you to learn too (you were already learning but you were putting in extra hours after bedtime to stay ahead of them).

👑 100% a prankster. And oh god… did it get out of hand quickly. You had to sit both of them down to scold them about putting soy sauce in your coffee when you weren’t looking; that was the final straw. No one messes with the morning coffee. 

👑 Came home with a puppy from the animal shelter because Kiddo got an A on their test (failed to mention to König that it was a test they had already got rewarded for).

👑 The only time you ever saw this man cry was at Kiddo’s graduation. They said to their friends “Can you take a picture of me with my Dad? He showed up in uniform for this.” He held it together for the event, but let the tear loose on the way home.

Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others. Might do some for Ghost in the future ✨

#konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig x y/n #gn y/n #gn reader #konig x you #konig headcanons #headcanon #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod #cod mwii #mw2 #call of duty fanfic #task force 141 x reader #stepdad!konig

[thetriumphantpanda]

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

#Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fic #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike au #pedro characters #pedrostories

[scaredpigeons]

“Let me look at you.”

kaveh x fem!reader

Nsfw 18+ MDNI. Smut. Pussy inspection, teasing, light oral (fem receiving) Kaveh’s a bit mean, but not really and we like it. Established relationship, childhood friends to lovers, yes you both live in Alhaitham’s house still cuz I’ll never separate my otp

———————

You hear the rattle of a doorknob, unable to open. 

Then a thud, as if something hit the door. 

“Darling?” Kaveh’s frustration leaked into his voice. “Are you in there? I forgot my keys again.” 

You smiled, and rose from the sofa to open the door. Your sweet Kaveh stood in the doorway, shoulders slumped and white knuckling his mechanical toolbox, looking at you miserably through his brows. 

“Welcome home,” you stepped aside, allowing him to trudge into the entrance. “ I would ask how your day was…” 

“You would not believe the day I’ve had. I don’t even want to repeat some of the atrocities I had to witness today, let alone the absolute crimes against art as a whole— and I had to just sit there and let him drone on and on!— AND regardless of my experience and clear expertise on the subject, this—this monster absolutely refused to budge on— seriously my love, who in their right mind requests five inch thick mullions on stunning lancet arched windows?! The man's wife wanted them to be Sumerian rose stained glass— which I already ordered the exact amount for, at double the usual rate so they could have it installed in time for their daughter's birthday— and suddenly the man wants mullions?!” 

Your romantic relationship with Kaveh might have been fresh, but being friends with him since childhood gave you plenty of experience with these kinds of moods. You knew this spiral would only ruin his evening, and if left to fester it would consume his entire month. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked timidly, not wanting to send him into another rant, but not wanting your silence to convince him you don’t care. 

Kaveh huffed, and turned towards you. “Unless you can tell this imbecile of a client that—“ He paused, actually looking at you for the first time since he walked into the house. 

Since moving in with him and Alhaitham, you’d certainly made yourself comfortable in the space. 

The house had little pieces of you scattered here and there; a lavender throw pillow on your favorite couch, new mugs in the cupboard, a framed photo of the three of you from your last trip to the desert—smiling and laughing in the sun while camped at an oasis, but nothing showed how comfortable you were there more than how you dressed around the house. 

When the two of you became adults, you rarely ever saw each other outside of the akadeymia and Lambads tavern, so respectable formal wear was what you wore often. When you started coming over and rekindling your bond with Kaveh, you wanted to impress him, to be attractive to him, so you always dressed your best, always done up. But now…

He gazed longingly at your thighs peeking out from beneath one of his oversized shirts, buttons only done up halfway so that the majority of your chest was visible, placed to just cover your nipples in case someone came home during the day. Your hair was pinned back away from your face using a multitude of his own hair pins, and your face glowed as if it was recently washed. 

You were the pinnacle of beauty to Kaveh. So comfortable in his life— like you were meant to be there all along. He sighed, releasing his tight grip on mehrak to let him hover in place just beside him. 

“Actually, yes.” He sighed again, releasing the tension in his shoulders as he gestured for you with his arms. “Come here, let me hold you for a moment.”

You smiled sweetly and curled up into his embrace, humming happily as he rested himself at the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply and groaning a little beneath his breath. 

“You’re perfect, you know that?” He said wistfully. 

You giggled, dropping your head to his shoulder to hide your intense blush. “Stop that! I’m supposed to be making you feel better, dummy.”

“Just having you here like this makes me feel a bit better, love.” He pulled back a bit. “Come now, let me look at you, there’s no need to hide.”

Despite your flustered state, you unwrapped yourself from him, cheeks warming even more at the way his eyes raked across your body.

“You like when I look at how beautiful you are, don't you?” He said, holding your hand in his with a gentle squeeze. Though his tone was still gentle, there was something burning beneath his gaze that had warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach. 

He grinned then, suddenly a bit mischievous in nature. “You know what would really help me de-stress, love?” 

If you hadn’t seen where this was headed before, you certainly knew now— though that didn’t make you any less flustered. Even after so many months, physical intimacy with Kaveh still worked you up just as badly as it had the first time. 

“I’ll do anything for you, Kaveh. You know that.” You murmured, cupping your own cheek in embarrassment.

You feel a light pressure around your limbs and waist, and suddenly you are hoisted into the air, hands together above your head and legs spread. 

“Wait—what?!” You tried to struggle, but the grip that he had mehrak put you in was unshakable. You’d seen Kaveh use this function with mehrak countless times; to swing his claymore, to move building materials, but never once had you seen it used on anyone else. “K-Kaveh! What are y-you doing?!”

His head appeared between your legs, though he was still standing, and you could see now why he had hoisted you so high into the air. 

“Just stay still for me, yeah? I want to look at you.” 

“B-but—“

You were silenced by his long, cool fingers pushing his shirt from where it covered you, and your legs spread even wider, exposing you in your entirety to him. He smiled as he hooked his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your thighs and onto the floor at his feet. 

You continued to squirm as your face bloomed with heat, trying to look away but entranced to watch him as he spread you apart, looking at your center with intense eyes. 

He wiggles your labia around a bit, spreading you open and watching as the strands of your slick glisten between them.

He’s torturing you. Eyes never leaving your cunt as he gently thumbs at your clit, watching it twitch and relishing the moans you can’t bite back. 

The teasing makes you ache, it makes pressure form behind your glossy eyes and deep inside you somewhere shameful. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing as he toys with you, poking and rubbing here and there as if to make sure his eyes don’t miss a single part of you. 

He sees you struggling, and a laugh emerges— light and airy from his chest. 

“Please… you’re teasing too much this time, Kaveh.” You manage to whimper. 

“Oh?” He says, eyes still unwavering from your leaking hole. “What is it you want, my love?” 

You keened, so frustrated with his not-enough-touches and the fact that he’s making you say it. You tried wiggling from the hold on you once more, but it only served to satisfy him more. 

“Please!” You begged. “Please make me cum!” Your blush burned. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him, to feel him. 

He hummed contently at your cries, finally looking up at you. His gaze burned with a lust so intense you don’t think you’ve seen it since the first time you ever shared your bodies with one another. It was an all consuming flame, and unlike the first time— this one didn’t startle you. 

Kavehs passion was one of his best qualities, and seeing it take on this form, this desire for you— to have you, to make you his— was something you came to crave. 

“Not yet.” He said. Tone leaning towards condescending. “I’m busy looking. You’ll let me keep looking, right?” 

His gaze trailed back down your body to your aching core, where he continued to run his fingers along your folds, eyes heavy with lust at the slick he touched there.

“After all,” he said. “You're so very pretty, and you know how stressed I get. And playing with this pretty pussy of my very own helps sooo much, you know that dont you?”

His words were dripping in sex—in demeaning condescension, and you were about to explode because of it. You squirmed and struggled more, moaning and crying out at the weight of his heavy gaze, and the lightness of his thumb across your clit. It throbbed, sending waves of need up your limbs and making your hips buck against his touch.

“I really enjoy playing with you like this,” He said darkly. Times like these were the only moments Kaveh ever spoke down to you. He was typically very doting, loving, and non confrontational when it came to your relationship. But when you hear his voice sink like this, hear him speak as if he owns you, it sends your brain into overdrive. 

Finally, finally he brings his tongue up your center, taking a nice firm lick from your clenching hole to your aching clit. He seems to add just the tiniest bit more pressure as his tongue rakes over your clit, and you squeal. 

A low, shuddering orgasm overtakes you, and you crumple into it, trying to milk it for all its worth. You’re shocked that he keeps his tongue gently moving over your clit when he realizes what’s happening though he never moves to make it more intense. He works you through it gently, drinking up your cries of pleasure. Your clit throbs dully with each wave of your orgasm, and right before it becomes something closer to painful, he stops. 

His large hands grip your thighs, and he watches as you continue to twitch with the aftershocks. He watches your orgasm subside, and laughs when you start to squirm needingly so soon after. 

“Awe, poor sweet thing. Not enough?” 

Your fucked out expression was nearly enough to break him. Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks, your eyelids drooped and heavy from the aftermath, but still sparkling with lust from the need for more. 

Truly, Kaveh never felt more blessed than when in these moments with you, and he truly couldn’t even remember the specifics of what exactly had made him so unhappy in the first place. 

He was sure he’d remember eventually, and go back to having more work to do, but for now, he’d rather just enjoy the fire you’ve brought from within him. 

“Alright, alright.” He smiled. “I wasn’t done with you yet anyways.” 

#genshin impact smut #smut #genshin smut #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader smut #kaveh

[jjkeverlast]

keep in step | knj (m)

-> pairing professor!namjoon x professor!f.reader

-> genre/au's smut, enemies to lovers, dinner party au!

-> summary after namjoon has got you worked up for nothing, you find a way to reclaim your power, and what better way than to do it at the annual dinner party?

-> word count 2.6k

-> warnings sexual tension | reader teases joon with cake lol | taehyung and jungkook are mentioned | namjoon's thighs (trust me it's a warning) | namjoon is wearing the outfit | oral (m. receiving)

-> author's note i cannot believe that a request from my milestone celebration AND joon feeding us so much content today had me writing pt2 so quickly... but here we aaaare :)))) i highly suggest reading the first part, which you can find here ! to my lovely readers and moots who have been waiting for a second part, i hope this meets your expectations <3 also big thanks for the banner made by my lovely mari ( @archivedkookie ) i love you babe, it's absolutely beautiful omg.

i should note that play the game was a request by my darling jess @btsgotjams27 for my milestone last year and therefore there will not be a taglist to this! thank you :)

Three months. Three painful months of doing absolutely nothing after your little mishap with Namjoon. It was torture, to be quite honest. Somehow you weren’t certain about him, about his intentions with you and certainly not how to revenge yourself in the perfect way. 

Namjoon proved towards you that his little scheme in the copy room was part of some fucked up game. A game to prove you don’t hate him. Currently, it’s one to zero, but you’re going to prove to not only him but yourself as well, that he isn’t here for the game, but you. 

Another reason for you to have yet to revenge yourself was because Namjoon was barely in the same capacity as you. The universe loves to suddenly turn your world upside down and make sure that you and Namjoon now have separate auditoriums for your classes. Therefore, you haven’t exactly been annoyed with him as you were before when he overtook your classes time. 

It wasn’t until the annual teacher’s dinner party that Namjoon was at your expense. 

The dinner party was a tradition, paid by the university to give thanks for the teacher’s hard work throughout the year. The venue that was picked out was spacious, various tables decorating it and big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. 

As soon as you stepped in, Namjoon was the first to catch your eye. He was wearing an all black outfit, his hair dark in a nice cut. It’s the first time you’re seeing him without his glasses and the sight is refreshing. There’s something about how his eyes are more captive from a mile away for you, and how exposed his defined face is. 

Namjoon’s eyes move towards you, gliding down to your feet in a slow movement. He smirks, his dimple prominent by the action and you’re trying to hold your breath. He’s not going to win tonight. You’ll make sure of it. 

A few presentations are presented by various teachers and counselors. All of them honoring the hard work. You’re sitting next to Kim Taehyung, an art history professor who’s been nothing but kind to you. His boxy smile and lame jokes keep you in a good mood and keeps you away from thinking about a certain someone. 

You don’t know what it is about Namjoon. Ever since he went down on you in the copy room, giving you a mindblowing orgasm he has managed to engrave himself in your head and infiltrate your love life. Yes, you had clearly tried to find a solution, a partner who actually wants you but whenever you managed to get a date, Namjoon’s dimple filled smile and his tongue skills would cloud your mind and leave you in irritation. 

Every part of you wants to look and glance at Namjoon. He’s sitting two tables away from you, his laugh flowing through the venue directly to you and you grab tightly onto your bag to restrain yourself. 

Just stick to the plan. 

‘’Wow, can’t believe we’re already halfway through the year.’’ Taehyung comments, earning your attention. 

‘’Yeah, time really does fly.’’ He nods along, swirling his thumb against his wine glass as if he’s contemplating taking another sip. He mutters under his breath, grabbing onto the glass and taking a light sip. The cringing expression on his face connects to his pondering face from before. Taehyung isn’t a wine person, but in most cases alcohol is still in the end, alcohol. 

The first course gets served and everyone on the table is pleased. Minor conversations are exchanged, mostly university related and you join in once in a while. Somehow your mind continues to play Namjoon’s words before he took the courage and kissed you. 

‘’You hate me, yet you stare at me as if you want me.’’ 

Brain, kindly shut the fuck up. You don’t notice yourself poking more aggressively at the food in front of you but it’s the only way for you to scold yourself. 

Namjoon doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s— 

You almost drop your fork, glancing upwards to find Namjoon watching you with delicate eyes. His fingers trail beneath his chin, nodding along to the person babbling away next to him. But his gaze, his gaze remains on you. You squirm in your seat, clearing your throat as you avert your attention elsewhere. 

Fuck, that’s another point for him. 

You’d love to blame yourself for this, but in reality it’s his fault. His fault for showing up with an outfit showcasing every part of his body that is to drool for. You’re thankful that you aren’t sitting with him, or else you’d constantly throw glances downwards to his prominent thick thighs. You may or may have not once dreamt about riding them. But that’s for him to wonder and for you to know. 

The desert rolls around, a creamy cake and Taehyung’s eyes light up at the delicacy being placed in front of him. Maybe you’ve had enough, or maybe you’d love to finally revenge yourself seeing Namjoon is already giving you the perfect attention for it. 

Slowly, you take a bite, locking eyes with Namjoon from across the room. The cream manages to fill out the corners of your lips. Instead of taking a napkin, you drag your thumb over the corners before licking the excess. To your success, it works. Namjoon’s lips slightly part by your action, his adam’s apple bobbing proving he’s lost his breath due to it. 

Taehyung accidentally drops a piece of cake on his pants, groaning loudly which snaps you back from your lustful trance with Namjoon. You help Taehyung, handing him your unused napkin and he thanks you with a sincere smile. 

With hope, you return your gaze to Namjoon, but he’s gone. You look around, noticing how multiple have left the table and are now mingling amongst each other in playful chatter. This is your chance. 

‘’Hey, I’ll be right back. I just need to use the restroom.’’ You excuse yourself to Taehyung and he thankfully doesn’t seem to mind, leaving the table himself to talk with Jeon Jungkook, a biology professor. 

You set yourself on a mission to find Namjoon, walking away from the crowd, stumbling past some empty rooms that seem to be reserved for future meetings. When you reach the exit, someone pulls at your arm, pushing you inside a cramped closet. 

The minute you’re about to scream, you notice it’s Namjoon and your brows frown. Even though you were looking for him, you’re annoyed with every part of him and how he manages to affect you without having to lay a single finger on you. 

‘’Missed me?’’ He raises a brow in tact with the question. 

You roll your eyes at his comment, yet your body shivers. 

‘’I still hate you. Nothing has changed.’’ You step closer, the material of his jacket brushing against your exposed skin. 

Slowly, a smile grows on Namjoon’s face and a laugh manages to slip out. 

‘’Nothing has changed. Right, and you definitely haven’t been thinking about my tongue.’’ The words roll off perfectly, going straight to your core. 

‘’Not exactly.’’ 

With confidence, you bring your hands on him, trailing on his white shirt beneath the black jacket. Namjoon hisses by the sudden action, mouth agape as he watches you carefully explore his upper body. 

‘’Oh yeah? Then tell me.’’ You look up, moving your face closer to his until his nose brushes against yours. 

‘’Been thinking about sucking you off.’’ 

Namjoon closes his eyes before muttering, ‘’Fuck.’’ 

He moves closer, his lips hovering above yours but instead of completing his action you drop down to your knees. You give yourself support by holding firmly onto Namjoon’s thighs. They tense once in a while under your palm and it makes it hard for you not to imagine what it’d be like riding them. How the prominent lines of his muscles would flex under you, encouraging to continue as you hold tightly onto him. 

Maybe, if you still badly want him after this, you’ll take that fantasy into consideration. 

For now, you want nothing more than to return the gesture you would’ve given Namjoon since he left you half naked in the printer room. 

The material of his pants cling nicely to his thighs, showcasing a bit of what’s underneath and excitement bubbles at the pit of your stomach. Namjoon has completely lost his use of words, only breathing heavily as he observes your every move. 

Your palms start to move slowly over the material, feeling the soft sensation it carries. You squeeze down once or twice, dragging closer to his bulge that has started to strain beneath the slacks. You’re tempted to open the single button that keeps his pants up, but this is Namjoon. The Kim Namjoon who’s been on your nerves for the longest time. The Kim Namjoon who you thought you hated, but now? You aren’t exactly certain what you feel towards him. 

‘’I know what you’re doing.’’ Namjoon says. 

‘’And what am I doing?’’ You ask but don’t stop the motions of your hands. 

‘’You’re being slow on purpose, to torture me for all those months.’’ Wow. Kim Namjoon may carry a brain after all. 

It was your plan, to show him how painful slow can be and to poke him for being a slow professor in general. He’s taken you by surprise by cracking the code so quickly. 

You hum in approval. ‘’You got me.’’ Before you continue, Namjoon’s hooded eyes catch your attention. 

‘’I’m gonna show you how slow I can be.’’ It’s the last thing Namjoon hears from you, before you’ll tease him till he’ll plead for you to give in. 

Your mouth hovers above his bulge, lips trailing on the closed off zipper. The movements of your hands never stop admiring his firm thighs, how big they are under your burning skin. 

‘’You’re a fucking menace.’’ Namjoon manages to choke out, mind blurred from your breath so close yet so far from where he wants you. 

Ignoring his comment to your pace, you take a step further, removing his pants and dragging them down to his feet. His naked golden skin catches you off guard. The light partakes in making it look extraordinary, showing you the minor details of his definite muscles. 

‘’Shit.’’ You mutter under your breath and even though you aren’t looking at Namjoon, you can paint out the cocky smile he’s carrying. 

Straightening your back, you move closer, toying with the waistband that clings nicely on his hips. You haven’t even removed his boxers yet, but the outline of his cock tells you exactly what you’ve been wondering. Kim Namjoon is big. 

It’s a challenge you’re willing to take — in your mouth to be exact. 

Lifting the white shirt, you trail a few wet kisses on his abdomen and v-line. Namjoon grunts in response, grabbing onto your cheek out of instinct. The touch of his hand feels warm, careful and delicate and you urge yourself to not lean into his touch. 

Curiosity gets the worse out of you and with no warning, you pull down the briefs abruptly. Namjoon’s breath gets caught in his throat, a clogged moan slipping past his lips. You’re trying not to drool once his cock is fully exposed in front of you. Anger manages to seep through as well, remembering him keeping it a secret from you when you both got a taste of one another for the first time. 

He’s painfully hard, pre-cum leaking off his tip and you mentally praise yourself. You’ve managed to work him up a lot quicker than you had imagined. He’s never truly shown how much he wants you, even though his tongue has been on you. Namjoon never once admitted how much he wants you. 

Your lips trail on his thighs, inching closer to his cock that’s begging for attention but you aren’t so easy. The bridge of your nose brushes against the base of his cock and Namjoon’s grip on your cheek tightens. 

‘’You’re fucking killing me.’’ He’s laughing softly, although it’s painted with irritation. 

A small peck is received by your end. ‘’Tell me how badly you want me, and maybe I’ll give in.’’ 

Namjoon knows you’re playing the game, the game he started back then when he wanted you to admit how badly you wanted him before he dropped down to his knees, trailing his tongue on every part of you. You bat your eyes, waiting for him to give in and Namjoon clenches his jaw — contemplation overtaking his expression. 

With a deep breath, Namjoon closes his eyes. ‘’Please. Need your mouth so fucking badly.’’ 

One to one, to you. Let’s make that two. 

You comply, letting your tongue trail freely from the base to the tip, coating him in your saliva. The sounds from Namjoon are unexplainable, his moans sending you through the roof. 

The tip settles heavy on the end of your tongue, and you look up, catching a sight of Namjoon straining his neck, veins decorating it. 

Swirling your tongue on his tip, you manage to taste him. You open wider, inviting more of him inside your warm mouth, lips closing around his cock. With the help of your hand, you stroke what your mouth can’t cover and you start off at a slow pace. 

‘’Fuck—’’ Namjoon curses under his breath. His hand never leaves your cheek, secretly loving how he’s able to feel his cock inside your mouth. 

The slow pace is still a threat to him, but your soft lips on the outline of cock eases down the hatred he has for your plan. 

Internally you hope no one catches the both of you. Inside a closet, at an annual dinner party doing anything but friendly chatter which the other professors are too busy maintaining. It’s kind of thrilling somehow, your secret sneaking around with Namjoon — a professor you were bound to hate — yet here you are stuffing your mouth with his cock. 

The thrill starts building up when muttered chatter can be heard from where you are, and with that you completely blow off your plan, quickening the pace out of the blue. 

Namjoon knows you’re both at risk and he’d wish he would be able to enjoy this without having an uncomfortable thought of being caught. He bites his bottom lip, refraining himself from being too loud and giving you both away. 

Quickening your pace makes it easier for Namjoon to reach his limit. His thighs tense, along with his hand on your cheek and you’re prepared for him to come in your mouth. The last thing you want is for people to find cum stains in the closet while picking out their jacket to go home. 

‘’Shit baby— Yes. Fuck!’’ One choked out moan and Namjoon’s orgasm seeps through, the cum spilling itself in the base of your throat. The nickname catches you off guard, but you’re too busy making sure you don’t leave a mess behind. Thankfully, you succeed and quickly pull yourself up to your feet. 

‘’Holy shit.’’ Namjoon blurts out, panting with a smile. 

‘’We need to leave, before anyone catches us.’’ You inform, grabbing his wrist towards the exit while he fumbles with getting his pants back on. 

The air is a bit cooler once you’ve stepped out, Namjoon behind your trail. The dinner party is still going on, music starting to play over speakers and the teachers forming an awkward dance circle. 

‘’Hey, do you wanna get out of here?’’ The question throws you off guard. 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Yeah, I mean my place isn’t far from here and I’d love to finally fuck you.’’ 

You chuckle, crossing your arms. ‘’You’re gonna have to earn that.’’ 

Before Namjoon responds, you turn your back, returning to Kim Taehyung and the rest of the crowd. 

Two to one, Kim Namjoon. 

© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works]

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x female reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fanfic #namjoon drabble #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon bts #bts rm #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Skilled Hands (Obey Me!) fic

content: Solomon X reader. NSFW. Established relationship, romance, fluff, mature subject of sexual intimacy and making love.

Solomon was doing this on purpose. He had to be doing this on purpose. Using those sculpted hands to gesture and trace over what the two of you were working on. Solomon had insisted that both of you should focus on your magic studies today. Which you did want to work on as his apprentice. Yet you found everything he was doing completely distracting. Watching as he spoke of tending to magic tools or writing spell scrolls or such. Wanting him to be using those lips to kiss you instead of ramble. Wanting those hands against your skin instead of tinkering with various equipment. Wishing to scent his musk instead of potion ingredients and old paper.

After three hours of this slow and aggravating torture, you broke. Solomon ended up turning after setting his tools down to find you right in front of him. Tears in the corner of your eyes for him to frown in concern. So you took both his hands and leaned in for a kiss. One that was demanding and hungry. Which had Solomon chuckle into for you to part for air. His smirk one of coy amusement. "My my. It would seem you were quite distracted. Yet you held out for this long? What a considerate apprentice you are. But a very naughty student." Solomon leaned close to whisper in your ear. "Should I make you beg of me to worship you in all the ways I know? Or might I let you ravage me senseless to be left stripped and vulnerable to my beloved soul? Either way, the choice is yours."

You gave a full shudder to grip Solomon's hands tight. Those tears falling as you admitted you couldn't make up your mind out of pure overload. It hurt to have so much want and need that you gave a sniffle of noise. So Solomon gave you gentle kisses and soft touches to your face to coax you all the closer. His fingers did their work with effortless and tender care. Stripping you of your coverings as magic soaked the room. Locking doors and windows to alight the room with small colorful flames that hung in the air. Solomon whispered in Greek against your lips to soon have both of you naked. Those hands soon resting against your heart for him to purr in sheer delight. "Such thunder. Such molten heat. Honor me with your love and make us one."

Solomon spent the entire time the two of you made love smiling. His words and touches tickling your skin as you did much the same. Tasting and teasing to deepen the dance of this blissful union. The passing thought of how long Solomon has had to master this art of love soon tumbling away as he washed joy and pleasure over you and through you. Kissing away what tears fell when you got overstimulated to switch things to ensure your delight. The both of you open in all vulnerability in the age old song of loving and making love. Until the both of you lay in his bed to be covered in sweat. Solomon letting you use him for a snuggle pillow to be trying to catch his breath. Your head to his heart to savor how that drumming was full of strength and life. The pace racing and heated as Solomon started to laugh. His hands soon reaching up to cradle you close to that thunder in his caged ribs for him to keep laughing. "Ah. So this is what father meant when he wrote of love for my mother. Yes. Something I will savor for eons to come. My beloved apprentice. You leave me spellbound."

The former king soon lifts you up to place a few kisses to your face. His joy having him trill a happy sound before he speaks. "Methinks we might use a specific spell to craft a heated tub of water and some other things to get cleaned up in here. Wouldn't want the angels to smite us for having such revelry."

#obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me! one master to rule them all #obey me! fanfiction #obey me! fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All #Obey Me: One Master To Rule Them All #Obey Me! Shall We Date? #Obey Me: Shall We Date? #Obey Me! Nightbringer #Obey Me: Nightbringer #obey me! nightbringer #obey me nightbringer #Obey Me Solomon #obey me solomon #Solomon X Reader #obmswd #solomon x reader #obey me x reader

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Today is your first day pursuing your Master of Arts in History, and the first day you meet your advisor, Dr. Egan, Professor of History.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none

author’s note: peep the somewhat grey hair edit of bucky I made lol, this is such s elf indulgent au because I am a history major looking to go into my master's and also I want to be a history professor so yeah ((: I will either write this as an actual fic but idk yet!! enjoy (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

✦ It’s your first day on your path toward your Master of Arts in History. You’re meeting with your advisor today, who will help you on that very path and hopefully guide you to its end with success.

✦ Apparently, your advisor is prevalent around campus despite you never having a class of his. Your university is quite large, so even though your focus is American History, and so is his, it’s not unheard of to never have met him.

✦ He wasn’t too into social events held by the history department, which is understandable. You loved attending them in your later years of being an underclassmen. But they can be overwhelming at times. 

✦ You wrap your knuckles against the wooden door before you, and before you can finish knocking, a tall, salt-and-pepper man swings the door open with a dazzling smile.

✦ “Welcome, I’m Dr. Egan. I’ll be your advisor for the rest of your time here on campus.” He offers a hand for you to shake, which you happily take. His grip is firm, but so is yours. You were taught to look someone right in the eye while shaking their hand firmly- but not too firmly. Dr. Egan picks up on this.

✦ You’re one of three female history majors in the entire department going toward a Master’s and one of about twenty altogether in the major. So, of course, you’re going to need a firm handshake and steady eye contact to get ahead in your field.

✦ “Quite a handshake you have there,” Dr. Egan says, taking a seat behind his desk. He waves a hand for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. “Thank you,” you say, “My grandfather taught me always to have a perfect grip.” “Your grandfather was right,” Dr. Egan nods, “because in this major, being an equal with the males will take you far.”

✦ Your grandfather and father were history buffs and even lived through major historical moments, like the World Wars. So your goal in life is to teach others about what they loved so dearly and went through so harshly.

✦ Your mother had you just a few years before your father was shipped off to England, so you spent the beginning of your school years without him. Your grandfather filled in the gaps you missed from your father, thankfully. Sadly, your grandfather passed just last year, but you aim to carry his legacy and intelligence.

✦ “I’m aware, unfortunately,” you grimace at the thought of the male-dominating discipline, “But I’ve made it this far, and I’m not backing down.” “Great, I’m glad to hear that. Especially since you’re the first student I’ve ever advised for a Masters.” “Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “Then we’ll do this together.”

✦ Dr. Egan winks at that and dives into what research will be required for your first paper. The topic is based on the thesis statement of your final project, a little warm-up, as Dr. Egan called it- to the real deal at the end of your two years of studying. You go on to tell him that you want your thesis to be about the pilots of World War II, but you don’t elaborate on why. 

✦ Dr. Egan tilts his head at you when you don’t explain why you chose that exact topic but let it go. He’s had to learn that everyone has skeletons in their closet, as well as personal things, and not just him.

✦ You can’t help but take in his appearance. His outfit consists of a brown tweed blazer and a white button-up with black slacks. His hair is curly and graying on the sides, and he has a faint stubble with a notable mustache on his upper lip. Dr. Egan held himself carefully but confidently, like he’d been hurt by something but still had an ego of sorts. It reminds you of your father and grandfather. You weren’t sure why.  But you’re going to figure it out.

✦ Dr. Egan is in his 40s now and picked up college again after leaving the military due to PTSD. He eventually got his Ph.D. in History and is now a professor, and has been for a few years now. He enjoys his job. Dr. Egan (or Bucky, as we know him) loves that he can focus on American History without living through it, so he teaches it. Bucky tries to avoid WWII as a topic because he doesn’t want students and staff to know he served. He thinks it will hinder their outlook on him. 

✦ Bucky has only known you through letters and now an hour of talking, but he already expects a lot from you. He knows you are skilled and passionate about history. When you look at him, though, he feels you can see right through him. Bucky doesn’t know how to gauge that quite yet.

✦ You bid farewell to Dr. Egan after about two hours of getting to know each other's basic info as well as what’s expected of your MA in History. You leave, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you walked out of the office. You’re still nervous, but not about your Master’s anymore- it’s about how you’re going to manage the next two years with a man like Dr. Egan.

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