#Medium length press ons

[skottandbehr]

i have an obsession with press on nails at the moment i think i need to quit target so i can wear them all the time

#very hard to open cardboard boxes in medium length press ons i’ll tell you that one for free

[mommyghostface28]

 I’ve been craving eating pussy lately. It’s my favorite thing to do with my mouth. I love the process, the warm up. Pressing kisses to your inner thighs first, listening to you breathe out slowly when I’m so close to your pussy yet not close enough. My arms come to wrap around your thighs to lock you in place. I drag my tongue slowly up the outer length of your pussy, not yet letting it dip between your soft petals. 

You shift, growing needy from the slight teasing, trying to coax me closer. I’ll do this in between kisses, mixing sensations from soft lips to a silky smooth tongue. I press a kiss to your clit before the tip of my tongue lightly runs across it. I feel you squirm slightly. I start with gentle flicks, feeling your pink pearl harden with each one. 

I flatten my tongue against it, dragging it upwards with medium pressure. Now your hips are rolling into me, while I fan my tongue out, moving it up and back down in one motion, never letting you go without the feeling. I change direction. After licks I pull your perfect folds into my mouth to suck before releasing them with a sloppy “pop” you love the way my mouth sounds when I’m playing with your pussy. You love how I moan and slurp. 

 Now your fingers are in my hair, my hands grab at the back of your knees to push your legs towards your chest. your hips are off the bed slightly, your wet hole exposed to me more. Now I go deeper. Now I’m greedy. I tongue fuck you, I sink it into you, you squeal from how deep I can go. I’m a bit rougher, licking upwards with harder pressure, sucking and pulling at your swollen, puffy folds on the way back down. I drag my tongue from your hole all the way back up to your clit before I release it with a flick. 

You’re wiggling, but I have you pinned under my grip with your legs in the air, at the mercy of my tongue worship. My face is coated in your sticky honey, your sweet sugar water. I have you all over my nose and chin. I don’t stop. I won’t until you’re gripping my hair so tightly, until you’re shaking. I keep consistent pressure on your clit. Keeping my tongue flat while run it up and down. My head bobbing slightly. 

 I just want to feel you come undone, all over my tongue. 

+This post is about sapphic sex+

#wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #nsft wlw #lesbian nsft #sapphic nsft #nsft lesbian #bd/sm mommy #wlw domme #lesbian #sapphic ns/ft #nsft sapphic #sapphic ns/fw #bi ns/fw #bi nsft #pan nsft #queer ns/fw #queer nsft #nb ns/fw #nblnb nsft #nblw nsft #wlw bd/sm #bd/sm community #Mommy’s thoughts 💭

[marycorcaroli]

first sex with zoro or sanji?

headcanons ; 18+.

rules ; masterlist.

i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

sanji.

— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.

— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.

— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.

— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.

— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.

— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.

— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.

— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.

— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.

— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.

— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !

— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.

— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.

— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????

— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.

— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.

— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.

zoro.

— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !

— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.

— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.

— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.

— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).

— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.

— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !

— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.

— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.

— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.

— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.

— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !

— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".

— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.

— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.

— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.

— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).

— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.

#one piece live action #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro roronoa #zoro x reader #zoro smut #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji #zoro #taz skylar x reader #taz skylar #mackenyu #mary ♡

[themostat]

Woe, S1 jmart be upon ye

(ID under the cut)

[ID:

The first image is a digital drawing of Martin Blackwood from the magnus archives. He is visibly flustered, and smiling awkwardly. He is holding two mugs, one in each hand. He is trying to push up his glasses with the mug in his right hand. He is holding the mug in his left hand neutrally. The mug in his left hand has the tag of a teabag hanging out of it, and barely visible text that reads "#1 Archivist". His hair is auburn and wavy/loosely curly, and cut to a medium-short length. He is wearing large round glasses. He has a light skin tone, and visible freckles on his face, neck and hands. He is wearing a white button-up fastened all the way, and a beige cardigan.

The second image is a digital drawing of Jonathan Sims from the magnus archives. He is holding a tape recorder in his left hand, and with his right index finger, is pressing the "record" button. He looks like he's concentrating, or maybe slightly annoyed. His hair is very dark brown with visible grey strands, and is slightly curlier than martin's. His hair is quite short, with a bit of a longer fringe. He has a medium-dark skin tone, and visible facial hair also speckled with grey. He is wearing glasses with oval-shaped frames and glasses chains. He is also wearing a white button-up, with a navy blue tie and a mossy green sweater. His sleeves are cuffed to the elbows.

End ID]

#themostat’s art #the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart

[jenosbigtoe]

currently thinking about drunk!reader barging into stepbrother!jeno’s room in the middle of the night and pulling his pants down to feel his hot cock on her face ❤️

pairing: step brother!lee jeno x drunk!reader

warnings: dubcon, somnophilia, fellatio, jeno is kinda mean

@jenomov 😵😵

you’ve always been a horny drunk. and going out with your girlfriends while being a dry spell without bringing home a one night stand was making it so much worse.

you got home in the early hours of the morning, feeling just so horny and so needy. you knew jeno was asleep during this time… it wouldn’t hurt to just take a peek into his room and admire his pretty face?

it was his fault for you being in this dry spell in the first place. how could you fuck some random medium ugly guy when you lived with sex on legs? and for weeks you tried getting his attention. wearing tight booty shorts that showed off your ass. prancing around the house with no bra to peek your perky tits. bending over purposefully in front of him to show your puffy pussy press against your shorts. you fantasized about your step brother finally just taking you hard and fast in every way, position, location possible. doggy style, missionary, cowgirl, on the wall, in his bed, in your bed, in the shower, on the countertop, in the backyard, on the washing machine, you name it and you’ve thought about jeno pounding his fat cock into your needy pussy there.

he just looked so peaceful sleeping in his bed… you weren’t thinking straight. you thought about every fantasy you ever had with him. your pussy was tingling and started dripping with need. you rubbed your thighs together for relief but it wasn’t enough.

he wouldn’t remember this. he wouldn’t even wake up. i’ll just be really careful. your irrational mind reasoned.

you walked over to the side of his bed and carefully crawled on top of his sleeping body so as to not stir him awake.

just one taste and i’ll be satisfied.

you crawled down until you were face to face with his clothed cock. you carefully shimmied his pants down to his thighs, feeling your stomach twist with excitement and pussy leak with arousal. you paused, making sure he was still sound asleep. his eyes were still shut and breathing rate the same. you grinned.

then you removed his boxers. god, you were salivating at the sight, still making sure he was still sound asleep as you exposed his cock. even soft, his cock was so fucking fat and veiny. heavy balls, thick shaft, and slightly curved to the point you knew it would hit all the right places inside. you put your nose directly up against his cock, inhaling deeply. your pussy was clenching and dripping so much, needing to be filled by the fat cock right in front of your face. he smelled so intoxicating. deep, musky, masculine. you were begging for a taste.

while pumping his shaft up and down, you gave his cock licks from base to tip, savoring the deep, heavy taste on your tongue. you sucked on his heavy balls lightly before licking at every vein and every ridge on his shaft. you moaned, losing yourself in his smell, his taste, his cock. his erection was growing with every ministration, cock just getting impossibly bigger. and then you gave the tip a sweet kiss before stuffing his cock as far down your throat as you could handle. you choked and gagged around his length but you didn’t care. you bobbed your head up and down, bottoming out as much as you could with drool running down your chin and tears filling your eyes.

you didn’t even notice jeno groggily open his eyes at the weird sensation between his legs, only to see you bobbing your head up and down his hardening cock. was this a fucking dream?

he suddenly sat upright and grabbed your hair to pull you off his cock. you gasped at the sudden movement, flailing around and wincing at his grip on your hair. his cock was glistening and bobbing around from your spit, red and angry with arousal.

“well, what do we fucking have here?” he leaned down to mere inches away from your face, never faltering his deathgrip on your head.

you whimpered. “fuck, wait jeno, i can explain. just let me go…”

he tutted. “here i was, sleeping so peacefully when i wake up to my slutty step sister so desperate for cock she needs to suck off her sleeping step brother. looks like she needs to be taught a serious fucking lesson.”

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #jeno smut #jeno #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #jeno x reader

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied kidnapping, possessive behavior, slight stalking, delusional thoughts.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

Like most tailors, Chiori often finds herself preoccupied with the concept of preservation.

It’s as inevitable as it is unreasonable, for those who work through mediums as impermanent as fabric and textile. To make a piece of clothing is to make something that, by its very definition, cannot last. No matter how fine the silk, no matter how strong the thread, no matter how sturdy her design – colors will fade and stitches will run and eventually, the only thing left of her masterpiece will be a pile of scraps left to rot underneath a bed or among the cobwebs in a forgotten attic corner. Fashion is an even more unforgiving mistress. What does it mean to try and capture the beauty of a single moment in a world that stood for a thousand years before she ever thought to pick up a needle and will stand for a thousand more, when she’s no longer able to? What does it mean that she keeps trying, regardless?

Inevitably, when Chriori thinks about herself and her craft, she thinks about preservation. And, when she thinks about preservation, she thinks about you.

You, in the most generous of sentiments, are the enemy of permanence. Her designs may eventually fall apart, but you seem to tear and shatter all that you touch, to rend the very fabric of reality without ever dropping that achingly oblivious smile. Your first visit to her shop ended with a shattered teacup, your second with a chip to the blade of her favorite pair of sheers, your tenth with a pot of her darkest, blackest dye splattered across an otherwise untouched skein of dove-white silk. Calling you clumsy would be an understatement – you’re a vehicle of pure destruction, an entity of the type of chaos that so often reduces her finest creations to rags. If it wasn’t for the way you apologize so wholeheartedly after each and every offense, the bright optimism written across your expression each time you step through the door of her boutique, she might mistake your drastic lack of coordination for a deliberate act of sabotage. At least, if that were the case, she may be able to find the strength to banish you entirely from her domain.

Her frequent gifts to you – unpaid orders, she assures, items that would just go to waste if left to gather dust on her shelves – are demolished with a similar haste. That, you can blame on the needs of your trade, claim that the clothes of the noble class don’t mix with the work of laborers, but as often as she tries, she fails to see what’s so dangerous about hauling spools of ribbon and crates of lace from one boutique to another. You do your best to mend torn sleeves, to find replacements for missing buttons, but she almost wishes you wouldn’t – that you’d let her claims to you die a swift death rather than defacing them so humiliatingly. In her weakest moments, she considers that being more blatant with her intentions, speaking to you in something other than cutting innuendo and being more transparent in her attempts to carve her name into you, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Your nature, so quick and brash and thoughtless, is contradictory to hers. No number of signatures stitched into the hems of undercollars and lipstick stains pressed into the lining between layers of material can change that.

Certainly, none of it can change the trait Chiori finds most troubling in you – your willing inability to preserve even the most precious of things, yourself. Fontaine is a much more gentle land than Inazuma, but no part of Teyvat is completely free from risk. You brag worryingly often about your run-ins with local monsters, go on at length about having to guard the embroideries she had commissioned from the finest thread-painters in Liyue from fabric-eating slimes and especially fashionable thieves, but all your levity can’t seem to draw your attention from the bruises blossoming upward from your shirt collar, the bandages so often wrapped around knuckles and plastered over your cheeks. Mortality is a concept you seemed to have considered briefly and ultimately discarded, leaving Chiori to try to make something redeemable out of the scraps. It’d be enough to drive anyone mad. It’d be enough to drive any good tailor to extremes.

You are not a delicate fabric. Satin can be properly hemmed and handled with gloves, embroidery glazed over with perfumes and resins, lace held to a candle and burnt into a more sustainable form, but you are not so easily changed. Gowns have no regard for safety or the lack thereof, but you – frustrating, impossible you – seem to actively detest the very idea of it.

You are the enemy of permeance. It’s a thought Chiori often considers, lingers on, obsess over, as she would the safe keeping of any of her proudest works.

But, she finds herself thinking, as she feels the reassuring chill of iron chains again her palm and weighs it against two matching twin cuffs, there’s a chance she may just be pairing you with the wrong materials.

#woman loving wednesday #yandere x reader #yandere x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere chiori #chiori x reader #yandere imagines #yandere

[vanessagillings]

I love your art so much!!! I've also been starting to paint with gouache, and I'd love to know a little more about your process! What kind of paints do you use, do you sketch first or start with paint, do you paint in layers over several day or all at once?

Hi and thank you! I hope you don't mind me answering this publicly and apologies for length, but:

MY ART PROCESS!

Supplies: I use winsor and newton gouache and arches cold press paper blocks, usually 140 lbs (the lime green ones) and sometimes 300 lbs (the teal green ones). Even though this paper comes pre-stretched in blocks, I actually take the sheets off and stretch them myself because I've found arches' glue isn't as strong as it used to be. This is how you get watercolor paper to lay flat! I recommend youtubing some videos on how to do it -- there's a lot of great tutorials out there. Also, I use princeton brushes, and kraft paper tape and these boards to stretch my paper. (these aren't affiliate links, I just shop at blick)

A word about art supplies: these are the exact tools I use but everyone uses supplies differently and two people with the exact same supplies might get different results! A lot of it is about what works for you and what you like, so I always suggest that gouache/watercolor beginners just buy a few tubes from a couple of different paint companies and some small pieces of paper from different manufacturers to see what you like. Just changing one ingredient in the above has created massively different results for me, but maybe that'll end up being something you'd like! The first step in learning a new medium imo is to play. Just have fun!

ALSO: gouache isn't super light permanent, check your tubes for which ones hold up to sunlight. Here is winsor and newton's color chart explaining which ones will fade when exposed to sunlight -- all manufacturers will give you this. I only use the colors rated A and AA, and I still frame my pieces with UV glass just to be safe. Not all gouache is re-wettable, but winsor and newton is. I just put it in my palettes and refill my palettes if it runs low. AND SOME PAINT IS TOXIC. A lot of paints have cadmium and cobalt in them. I don't use any of the toxic colors, but if you do, make sure you don't eat while working and wash your hands thoroughly afterwards. This information is also usually available on manufacturer's websites. As more people are rejecting cadmium paint, you'll see more tubes labeled things like cadmium-free yellow. This is why. More artists should be aware that their tools can be dangerous. You don't need that many tubes of paint to begin, just a warm and cool red, warm and cool yellow, warm and cool blue, white and black. I have around 50 colors and use 20 regularly. I always mix all my colors myself, and never use straight tube paint. Most of my colors have about 5-6 different tube colors mixed together. If you use re-wettable paint a tube of paint will last you years; even as a professional I only buy new paints every 5 years or so.

Process: I ALWAYS start with a sketch first. Not everyone has to, but because I do illustration work -- where sometimes a client gets input on a drawing -- I always do a lot of preliminary work before I even begin to paint. At this point, even my personal work usually involves the exact same process:

I start with a 3" or so thumbnail that I scan (left; I traced it quickly digtally for clarity to myself here) and then either clean up digitally or print out and clean up traditionally with tracing paper (right):

Then I scan the cleaned sketch in and color rough it digitally (left, this was for a gallery show, so no one had to approve my color roughs, so it's messy!) then I transfer my sketch to my paper (with either carbon transfer paper or a light table), stretch my paper, and paint (right):

I obviously changed my mind about the color of the ribbon in the trees, ha, and made everything a lot more vibrant. The benefit again of gallery work is no pre-approval!

You are correct, I paint in a series of washes, going from lightest to darkest, where I apply the same color beneath all shapes that are the same warmth (cools under all upcoming cools, warms under all upcoming warms). I paint a piece usually in one or two days, depending on complexity. I didn't take pictures of the above painting, but here's a different painting to show you a little bit what I mean:

I painted the peach color under everything (and twice for skin tones), and the gray color of the sky under everything that would be grayish (the rocks, trees, her pants, her skirt, and coat). I do this to stop me from getting darker lines where two different colors butt up against each other, and also for color harmony. I have step by step photos of this in my process stories highlight on my instagram; also check my FAQ and tip highlights for more info on all this stuff. Most pieces take around 25-30 washes before I start adding in the details (sometimes I add in face details early though because if I mess those up it's not worth finishing the rest of the painting! 😅)

All this might seem like a lot of work (...it is) but I do it so that I can show clients previews of the final piece and so I don't have to repaint the finals. I also used to pre-test all of my washes on scrap paper like this:

I still recommend doing this if you're just beginning! But at this point I only do it when testing techniques because I know my paints really well. (the above was my test for the pine boughs in this piece)

Painting by far is the longest part of the process, so I do more work up front to not have to do it twice. Every piece takes about 6-24 hrs of actual work time to produce. Stretching watercolor paper takes about 24 hrs to dry, and because I sell most of my originals in galleries, they need to be flawless, so planning ahead is useful and in the end saves me time.

And to conclude this novel of an explanation, don't be overwhelmed by all the information I've given you! I put it here so that people at various stages of their artistic journey can maybe find something useful in it. But seriously, the first step to learning how to paint whether it's traditionally or digitally is just to have fun. Try it out, see what's working and what isn't, and then try to solve specific issues that you're struggling with. I've been doing this for a loooooong time at this point, but here's my first watercolor piece from when I was re-teaching myself how to paint traditionally nine years ago:

Obviously, I was destined for greatness. Ha, yeah, no. If you scroll back through my tumblr archive, you can see me learning how to use these paints in real time. And keep in mind that I'd been working digitally for years before then, and years before that where I didn't post my work online at all.

So for anyone who needs to hear it: there's no such thing as talent, just hard work, patience, and trying again and again and again...and sometimes again. What I do is a skill and anyone can learn it. Sometimes, progress is slow. I'm 38. I only really feel like my art was half-way decent starting a few years ago, but I've been making art my entire life, and I went to art school at 18. 20 years later I'm kind of figuring it out.

The best advice I can give, whether it's about art or not, is find the thing you love so much that you'll keep at it even when you suck at it, because most skills you'll suck at to begin with -- and perhaps for a long time. I sucked at art for yeeeaaaaarrrrs. On top of the usual learning curve, I struggled with fine motor control and dexterity. But I loved it so much I kept trying every time I failed. If I can do it, so can all of you, no matter what stage of art you're at now, and no matter how old you are.

Anyway, thank you to those still reading this deep in. I wish you all the best on your artistic journey. Art can kick your butt sometimes, but it's also pretty dang rewarding 💛

#art tips #process #art tutorial #asks

[mysacredmuse]

I have a teeny request.... Perhaps aventurine x fem!reader smut w/ 69....? 👉🏻👈🏻

it would be my pleasure ! :D I hope that you will enjoy it, if there's anything else you'd like or something you want differently - let me know! :)

reader: female anatomy, no specific descriptors or pronouns used

cw/tw: nsfw - mdni!, 69, oral (evidently), ejaculation in the mouth, slight gagging, slight overstimulation for the reader

word count: 1.2k

I hope you enjoy! :)

dividers by @/horangipilled :)

• Aventurine • 69 •

One of his favorite poses.

Aventurine adores 69 because it gives both of you an opportunity to enjoy each other. However, he also enjoys the way you struggle to suck his cock as he eats you out, filling him up with a lot of pride while it makes him much harder.

You position yourself, slowly resting your pussy on top of Aventurine's tongue. You give his cock a few lazy pumps, gently teasing the tip of his leaking cock with your thumb as you draw small circles with it. He lets out a soft moan into your pussy, hands resting on your ass to hold you up as your tummies grind against each other. He is the first one to make a move, teasingly licking your inner lips with the tip of his tongue and sliding it lower to your clit for just a moment.

You gasp, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock afterwards, earning a mellow chuckle of his in return. He slowly picks up the pace, sliding his tongue over your wet cunt in a circular zig-zag motion, reaching all of your sensitive spots, but not keeping full and steady attention on a single one. You let out a soft whimper as you wrap your lips around his tip, slowly circling your tongue around it at a gentle pace. He whimpers into your pussy, his warm breath making your hips twitch in enjoyment.

You begin moving your mouth down his length, letting your tongue slide over it in the process as he teases your inner lips, slightly spreading them with his tongue. He carefully spreads your ass cheeks just a little bit, enjoying how your pussy opens up more when he does so.

As you reach the base of his cock, your throat reacts with a soft gag before you pick up the medium pace, bobbing your head up and down as your tongue slides over it in a mixed pace of circular and up and down motions.

He gasps, his tongue swiftly getting to work as he slides it past your inviting entrance, collecting the sweet precum with his tongue. You let out a muffled moan around his cock as his tongue reaches your sweet spot, slightly twisting to press into it more.

He quickly picks up a steady pace, sliding his tongue in and out of your pussy, each time using a slightly more pressure on your g-spot. You pause for a few moments, letting his cock sit in your mouth before you continue, this time adding more pressure around it as you begin to suck on it. His tongue slides out of your pussy, a loud moan of his getting muffled by it as you continue to create a slightly harsher vacuum sensation with your mouth.

You slowly move up, focusing your attention mostly on his tip as the tip of your tongue softly teases his meatus, letting the precum melt on your tongue. His grip on your ass tightens as he slides his tongue to your clit, matching the movement of your own tongue while doing so. You let out a shaky gasp around his cock and he uses the opportunity to change up a pace, quickly sliding his tongue over your clit in a motion that he knows gets you weak. A few louder moans squeeze out of your throat as he does so, thighs becoming a bit shaky as the warmth in your lower tummy becomes stronger.

"Don't slack off now.." he whispers in a sly tone before he returns his attention to your clit, keeping up the previous pace. You shakily put his cock in your mouth, trying to supress your own moans as you move your head up and down, creating firmer suction. He switches from licking to sucking on your clit, once again matching your own pace.

You let out an unsteady and muffled moan around his cock, pussy leaking more precum as the warmth in your lower tummy slowly turns into burning heat. You pause your movement for just a second, only to be met with a sudden upward thrust of his hips, making you slightly gag around his cock as it reaches your throat. You quickly return to your previous pace which unfortunately becomes more sloppy and messy as his swift sucking on your clit becomes more demanding.

Your hips twitch above him, tummy pressing more into his as you speed up your movement on his cock, head mindlessly moving up and down as his geedy hips meet your movement.

You feel your cunt twitch and pulsate as the heat inside your tummy becomes unbearable - his sucking more overwhelming with each passing second. The room fills up with pathetic, yet muffled whines and moans, both of you chasing your own release. You wrap your hand around his length, giving it fast strokes as your messy mouth wraps around the tip of his cock, sucking on it in a rougher manner.

His hips become more quivery just like yours as his tongue slides over your needy clit in-between the sucks. You feel your body trembling with warmth, becoming more weak as the first wave of orgasm slowly unravels inside of your lower tummy.

He messily thrusts his hips into your hand and mouth as your suction becomes more overwhelming, squeezing out more precum out of his tip. He lets out a shaky moan into your clit, sending soft vibrations through your body and edging you closer to your release.

You don't stop, mindlessly pleasuring him as his cock twitches in your palm, the tip pulsating underneath your tongue. He grips your ass harshly as your hips become more unsteady, a strained moan getting muffled by his cock as your orgasm quickly unravels, making your body hot and weak. He lets out another sharp moan into your clit, not changing the pace as your release reaches its peak, body trembling above him.

His cock becomes twitchier as he watches your pussy leak down, slight quivers of your body almost separating him from your clit. But he doesn't stop, relentlessly sucking on it as his own release approaches, eyes rolling back slightly as your mouth and hand pleasure him in the most divine way.

His hips messily thrust upwards and downwards, greedy for the orgasm as he slides his tongue to your sensitive inner lips, collecting all the cum. You let out a shaky moan as the pressure of your mouth around his tip becomes rougher, sending him over the edge alongside your sweet taste on his tongue.

He lets out deep and guttural moans as his thighs tense up between the shaky fits, a whip of cum melting on your tongue immediately after. You let out a dim whimper into his cock, quickly swallowing his sweet release as he sucks on your inner lips in a messy manner, overwhelmed by his own orgasm as he shakes beneath you.

Your pussy becomes sensitive with the aftermwath of your orgasm, hips desperately trying to lift away from his face as your hand grows unsteady around his length after squeezing everything out. He pulls your hips down, greedy moans escaping his throat as he isn't done with you just yet.

#aventurine x reader smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x yn #aventurine x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #hsr imagines #hsr x reader smut #hsr x y/n #hsr x reader #female reader #muse's writings

[beansprean]

Perfect likenesses.

My Familiar’s Ghost Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Ghost Guillermo floats up to the taxidermy rabbit version of him sitting on a table, reaching out a finger as if to try to boop its nose. Guillermo smiles and says "So this is what you've been doing with your time? Making little taxidermied of me and Nandor? That's kinda sweet..." 1b. Reverse shot of Nadja, looking proud with one hand on her hip and the other pressed to her chest. She replies, "I made all of us!" 1c. Shot of a taxidermy scene mounted on a wooden base, showing two pigeons flying in midair. The top pigeon has a medium length brown wig and white cravat and has its legs spread open. The bottom pigeon has a long black wig and blue neck bow, laying back with its legs spread, their feathery pigeon crotches pressed together. Nadja says from offscreen, "Here is Laszlo and I as two beautiful majestic pigeons making love mid-flight." 1d. Shot of a taxidermy rat standing on all fours on a wooden base. The rat is hairless, has bright teal eyes, and is wearing a small beige tie. Nadja says, "And here is Colin Robinson as this rat I shaved." 1e. Wide shot of Guillermo and Dolly as he looks down at her and asks, "And what about Doll-Nadja?" Dolly looks up at him and replies, "I'm me." The only response Guillermo can give is "Oh." /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #ghost guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #nadja of antipaxos #nadja doll #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

[mockerycrow]

11. With Price!

SMUT PROMPTS: Price Drabble; “Tying Them Down As Punishment” (Male!Reader) - NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Price huffed as he tested the silk ropes that held his wrists to the headboard of the bed, finding that they’re tied firmly—realistically, he could get out of them if he truly wanted to, but he knows he needs to follow your rules. You hold a bullet vibrator in your hand and you him as you turn it onto a medium setting. “Oh, c’mon, honey..” John complained, his pupils dilating as he eyes the vibrator in your hand.

You grinned as you pressed the vibrator against the length of his cock, earning a sharp gasp from Price. “Jesus—!” He curses, his hips immediately jumping—either away or towards the sensation, he doesn’t know. “All this because you wanted to jerk me off under a table..” You making a tsking noise, John’s desperate gasps nearly overpowering your voice. “fUck, love—I’m, I’m sorry, mMh, I’m sorry!” John pleads. It’s too much, it’s not enough, he needs more-

You sigh and watch the way he moans and twitches, his wrists aching to get out of his restraints. “Are you, though? Even after I came all over your hand, you kept going. Was one load not enough for your greedy mouth?” You growl, focusing the vibrator on his tip. John can’t help but cum, a broken moan leaving his lips as his cock spurts out cut across his stomach and chest-you loved “punishing” John for being uncharacteristically greedy.

#call of duty #price x reader #john price x reader #price x male reader #price x m!reader #captain john price x male!reader #male!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x you #cod john price #captain john price x you #crow’s prompts 1 #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #cod #modern warfare ii #cod price #captain price x reader #mw2 fanfic #mwii #modern warfare 2 #mw2 x reader

[celestiaras]

ft. ver vermillion, kotoka torahime, hex haywire, meloco kyoran, doppio dropscythe (seperate) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ xsoleil & their hands┊0.4k words

contains: smut!! dom ver, koto, hex, melo, doppi & sub reader┊descriptions of hands, fingering, bunch of short thirsts i put together

➤ author's note: for the person who asked about ver's hands but i deleted the ask by accident, have all of xsoleil because uhhhh

ver’s hands… ivory-colored and slightly rosy at the joints. his knuckles are decorated with tattoos of small black diamonds, one for each finger and his middle is wrapped with a golden band. his nails are trimmed perfectly short to efficiently work on his studies, not ever painted because he has a bit of picking on the polish when nervous. he has a gentle but firm touch that makes you feel safe and secure, and he’s so skilled with them for so many things from spinning pencils to unraveling you in less than five minutes.

kotoka’s hands… slightly tanned compared to the others and with some golden rings. as a fashionable gyaru, she also has medium-length square acrylic nails that have blush pink french tips with lots of glittery sparkles and yellow decals to compliment her hair colors (her middle and ring are cut short, of course, a small price to pay to have fun with you). i also see her being double-jointed which allows her to be incredibly flexible while fingering you, able to effectively multitask by finding your sweet spot and rubbing your clit like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

hex’s hands… pretty bulky and veiny while decked out with silver rings of all sizes and designs, slighty worn around the edges but still look like they’ve been carved from marble. he sometimes paints his nails, but only on occasions when he wants to clean his look up. he’s slow and languid for the main purpose of being intimate, but it just really teases you and he gets a good chuckle from your whines before flat-out overstimulating you afterwards.

meloco’s hands… pale and elegant, the definition of the aesthetic pictures that pop on on pinterest with noticeable veins that line her skin and long, slender fingers. her nails are natural and shorter than kotoka’s because of her job as an exorcist, almond shaped and painted a dark purple that’s also kinda transparent. she thinks that her hands look prettiest thrusting into your cunt though, your arousel dripping from them before she presses them into her own mouth to taste you.

doppio’s hands… often hidden by his fingerless gloves but are rough and calloused from years of using them to throw punches and doing other hard labor like heavy lifting. his digits are a bit stubby compared to the others and his nails are always painted black to stop himself from biting on them and to help hide the fact that he does. he’s pretty clumsy, but what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in pure passion— experimenting with touching you while you show him what feels best until he becomes just as proficient as he needs to be.

#📜. her works #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #ver vermillion #ver vermillion x reader #ver vermillion smut #kotoka torahime #kotoka torahime x reader #kotoka torahime smut #hex haywire #hex haywire x reader #hex haywire smut #meloco kyoran #meloco kyoran x reader #meloco kyoran smut #doppio dropscythe #doppio dropscythe x reader #doppio dropscythe smut #xsoleil #xsoleil x reader #xsoleil smut

[satorutini]

"caution! this could get ugly" - eren yeager

Pairing: eren x reader

Summary: It's hard to get into the Christmas spirit when you work through winter break. But when you attend your coworker's annual ugly sweater party in an attempt to get into the holiday spirit, a certain green-eyed line cook is determined to make that a challenge.

Or;

The Chili's!AU Christmas party one-shot no one asked for

wc: 6.6k

Tags: enemies to lovers, coworkers!au

Content warnings: smut, oral ( f receiving), spit play, drug references, eren has big ass hands, minors dni

 my first fic in an anime fandom, pls be gentle! you can't tell me eren doesn't give off headass-but-secretly-softie line cook vibes... you can't tell me he doesn't look like that one guy you wanted to smash that one time at work!

um...happy holidays, y'all!

read on ao3 | masterlist | twt

The lady at table six doesn’t deserve about half of the attitude that she’s getting from you tonight. Besides, it’s not her fault all of the sides to each meal she ordered were wrong. It’s not her fault her appetizer had to be recalled two times because there were onions in the guacamole on both instances when her chips and dip platter arrived at the table. She’s not the one who cooked her husband’s steak well-done instead of medium-rare. Of course not, because as she oh-so considerably informs you over the distressed screams of her high-chair-bound toddler, she would never cook a New York strip steak like that.

But between the chaos of the dinner rush and the mishaps of a particular line cook who seems hell-bent on making your night as difficult as possible, table six and her husband are lucky that you are even able to flash them a drawn smile before stalking off.

The double doors to the kitchen – so lovingly called the heart of the house - are a thin veil between utter mayhem and the generally calm atmosphere of the dining area, never staying for longer than a second as waiters rush to tend to their tables. Stepping into the chaos, several obstacles stand between you and the culprit of your terrible night. Fellow employees swarm the narrow walking space, and you slip by with practiced ease and the occasional apology. You’re almost a little envious as you take note of them – no one else looks as half as pressed as you do tonight. As they should be, it’s only a Tuesday night. Not even the weekend yet. And yet, as you shimmy your way through the back of the house, you can’t help but feel a similar fatigue and exasperation that typically follows a Friday night shift. This only serves to further solidify your resolve as you duck past a team of waiters off to serve a business party.  A long, stainless-steel counter runs the length of the kitchen space, with shelves that reach the ceiling, effectively separating the servers from the cooking staff. Waiters and line cooks take turns sliding completed and returned orders beneath the shelving, and heat lamps attached to the bottom of the last shelf to preserve the food. It is within this space that you all but shove your head beneath the heat lamps to give Eren Jaeger a piece of your mind.

“Do you have a problem?”

“Yeah, actually.” Eren, standing idly over the stove top adjacent to you whips around at the sound of your voice. He makes a wry face at the sight of you, hunched over the countertop and under the warm hutch, forced to cram your neck in a certain direction to give Eren the full force of your scowl. For all his nonchalance, there’s a glint in his eyes. “You haven’t come to talk to me since you started your shift.”

You blink once, twice, before all but slamming your head into the shelf above you in an attempt to swipe at Eren across the counter. “Are you – are you fucking joking right now? Are you actually fucking messing with my table’s orders because I didn’t say ‘hi’ when I walked in?” Eren sucks his teeth, pretending to rearrange some condiments in front of him. “You’ve been here for two hours already. It’s polite to greet your seniors. Seems you’ve lost all your manners while you were away at college.”

Right eye twitching at the condescending note in his tone, you rear back, ready to straight up drag him into the walk-in and show him just how polite your fists could be. That thought is quickly sidetracked as a broom handle to the back of the knees sends you stumbling back from the countertop. Your manager stands behind you, arms akimbo, broom in one hand. He pointedly offers you a serving tray.

“Your steak is getting cold.” Stern, curt, and orderly, your night manager is infamous for running a tight ship. But even he, for all his methodology and patience, gets run ragged by the customer service industry. If you thought you were over tonight, Levi looks just about ready to turn in his two weeks.

“What about-,”

“I’ll handle him. Now get back to your other tables before I make you clean the bathrooms.” The night shift manager threatens to strike you with the broom handle again before passing off the tray and pushing you in the right direction.

You spare an accusatory glare at Eren, who watches on in bemusement. Rude bitch, he mouths, wiggling his fingers in a girlish wave.

The rest of the night goes on fairly smoothly. The dinner rush subsides just as quickly as it came. No one asks you to sing the Happy Birthday song. The incident at table six lands you a meager tip, but you grin and bear it. Better than nothing at all. Or worse, change. This seems to be the case for Sasha, a regular dinner shift waitress. She marches through the double doors with a fist full of nickels and dimes courteous of her last table of the night – a group of college students. Cursing under her breath, it’s obvious your coworker is ready to call it a night hide in the back with a basket of rolls until close.

There’s an obvious shift in mood as your team transitions to its closing routine. As Levi thanks the last customers for the night and locks the door behind them, the tension from the day seems to almost melt away instantaneously. Connie, a back-of-the-house member who ends up stuck by the dishwasher most nights, takes the opportunity to hijack the restaurant’s stereo system to blast trap music you only know the chorus to.

Closing, believe it or not, is your favorite part of the job. You take pride in how dutifully you restock, fold cutlery, wipe tables, and somehow always manage to avoid being assigned the task of sweeping the dining areas. You’d rather be caught dead before you struggle with that insolent, brittle plastic broom against an entire night’s worth of grime and dropped food. Instead, when Levi wordlessly hands it off to you this time, you make your way to the back of the house, prepared to bestow this lovely gift to the main antagonist of your shift.

You discover Eren lounging outside the storage shed behind the restaurant, the tell-tale sign of the flicker of a lighter giving him away. And the smell. The heady burn of a Backwood climbs its way up your nostrils as you approach him, languidly smoking half a blunt on the clock.

“Y’know the longer you sit out here, the longer it’s gonna take for us to get the fuck out, right?” Eren greets your matter-of-fact tone with a cloud of smoke, thick and distinct in the crisp winter night air.  You shoot Eren a disapproving look as you approach plastic broom in hand, fully prepared to guilt trip your coworker into taking on your least favorite closing duty. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight, aren’t you? You’re so lucky it’s too cold for Levi to come out here and bust your ass himself.”

This isn’t the first time the heart-of-the-house worker had snuck off to light up before joining the clean-up routine. Connie and Eren regularly covered for each other’s smoke breaks, so often that even Levi began to turn a blind eye as long as everyone clocked out on time. The line cooks' routine typically didn’t affect much on your end unless it was a night like this – a night when everyone had plans afterward.

Tonight, there was a holiday party at stake.

“Levi’s got a soft spot for me, you know,” Eren scoffs, taking another drag from the half-smoked blunt. He still has yet to fully face you, perched on a stack of discarded crates and angled away from the kitchen’s back entrance. Tucked away in the shadow of the storage shed, Eren ashes off the corner of the small building. “Besides, even he can’t resist my charm.”

Rolling your eyes, you wave the plastic broom in front of him, threatening to poke him in the ribs when he begins to protest. “Charm won’t save you from sweeping duty tonight. After what your petty ass put me through tonight – here, take it.”

Eren raises an eyebrow, throwing his hands up in protest when you move to toss the broom handle at him carelessly. He gripes, “I’ve got better things to do than clean up after you.” The blunt in his hand smolders near his fingertips. You pluck it from his hands with little resistance and take a hit, brow crinkling at the taste. Your lungs ache and warm at the sensation.

“Yeah? Yeah, like this?” You wheeze and hope he attributes the water gathering at the corners of your eyes to the cold. “Just get it done, and let’s finish this so we can all get to the party on time.” Eren watches in dismay as you stomp out the remains of his roach.

“Someone’s in a hurry…A Grinch like you, it can’t possibly be the Christmas spirit?” Eren narrowly avoids being jabbed in the ribs again, jumping from his hiding spot when you lunge. He eyes your tense shoulders, nearly hiked up to your ears, and the impatience in your stance. In the years you’ve worked together, your general disdainful demeanor towards him is nothing new, but there’s something else. Something else that leads Eren to believe that the dark flush of your cheeks has little to do with the winter air. He swipes the broom from your grasp, approaching you with a wolfish grin. You instinctively take a step back, a little less confident now with the broom no longer as your barrier. Confronting Eren over kitchen counters, between restaurant booths, and across busy back-of-the-house spaces in the presence of your other coworkers was one thing. But as the young man towers over you, gaze shadowed in the dim glow of the moon and the weak holiday lights haphazardly strewn about the awning around the restaurant, you can’t help but shrink a little under his direct attention.

After a tense moment of silence, Eren relents. “Alright, alright. I’ll get it done. But you owe me a dance later at the party.”

Your stupor was broken, you sputter and gawk up at him, at his audacity. “I- Me? Dance for you? Dream on, slacker. Now, move it. I’ve got tables to wipe down, and I’m not waiting for you to finish sweeping.”

Working at Pepper’s had only meant to be a summertime gig, at first. Looking for a quick way to make some cash before the start of your first year in college, the local Tex-Mex chain restaurant was your least enthusiastic option. A popular location in your small town, it was one of a few dining options that didn’t require you to drive out into the city to enjoy. The idea of running into one of your former high school classmates while donning the company apron and signature red visor, toting a serving tray - or worse, working with one of them - mortified you. But chain restaurants were always hiring, and you needed money fast. Eventually, working the evening shift as a waitress during breaks from school became the norm - until now. Now, as the start of the final spring semester of your undergraduate program approaches, you're left to consider what the next summer will really look like for you once you graduate. Besides, it wasn’t like this was going to be your career, right?

Right?

In your years on staff, Sasha’s ugly sweater party had become an unofficial team bonding event of sorts. No matter how new someone was to the staff or how frequently they were on shift, everyone came to Sasha’s. And everyone came dressed accordingly, or you were turned away at the door. A night of ugly sweaters, spiked eggnog, and best of all, Secret Santa.  Since your freshman year of college, Sasha’s holiday party was always something you could look forward to.

You anxiously eye a little red gift bag from across your coworker’s living room, trying to hide your grimace behind your second glass of wine.

“You look like you’re waiting for a bomb to go off.” The hostess of the night is pretty quick to clock your demeanor. Sasha slides onto the couch next to you, her sweater an egregious display of flashing multicolored lights, silver tinsel, and a giant patch of Rudolph the red nose reindeer sledding down a mountain in sunglasses stitched to her chest.

You force a smile, attempting to play off your nerves. “No bomb, just…Secret Santa jitters, you know?”

“Ah, the classic Secret Santa anxiety.” Your companion watches as your nervous gaze flickers from the gift table to a certain couple in matching argyle sweaters with tiny Christmas trees sewn in between the jacquard diamonds, huddled in the doorway into the kitchen. Sasha’s eyes widen in understanding. “Can I take a wild guess at who you got?”

You realize you’re not-so-subtly glaring at Jean, who’s laughing with his uninvited guest across the room. Jean, your coworker, and former daytime shift waiter. Jean, your friend whom you’ve admired from afar for his kindness and tenacity. Jean, who got promoted to manager at some point while you were away finishing your last fall semester at college and didn’t tell you. Jean, whom you have the worst, most horrendous crush on. You take another sip from your drink to avoid the pitiful look you know is on Sasha’s face. “I just hope he likes what I got him. I mean, we’re not exactly best buddies or anything...”

If Sasha catches the sour note in your voice, she says nothing to acknowledge it. “I’m sure you know him better than you think.”

You can’t help but huff in exasperation. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it? Ever since I switched from dayshift in the fall, ever since I went back to campus, he’s been so distant. I could’ve sworn we were getting somewhere over the summer, but now…” You tip your glass listlessly in the direction of the object of your ire, whose arm is wrapped around none other than Mikasa, a waitress who quit last year but still hangs around some of your coworkers. Apparently.

Everyone comes to Sasha’s Christmas party.

It goes without saying that Jean is with Mikasa now, but your eyes can’t help but linger in his direction anyway. After all, the last time you saw him…

The pool party. That pool house. The surprise that colored his eyes and flushed his cheeks when you kissed him.

You shake off the memory, scowl deepening. The hostess herself leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, spill. What’d you get him?”

You glance around for any eavesdroppers before revealing, “A leather-bound journal. He’s always jotting things down, and I thought it might come in handy.”

Sasha squeezes the hand on your lap not balancing a drink and offers you an encouraging smile. “Not bad! Thoughtful and practical. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

You nod, a bit more reassured. “I hope so. It’s just…I really wanted to get him something he’d like, you know?” You watch as Jean presses a doting kiss to Mikasa’s forehead, smiling into her hairline. He has yet to look your way once, except for at your arrival.

Sasha pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. It’s the thought that counts.”

The thought. You scoff. You think you might need a third glass of wine.

As Sasha wanders off to mingle with the other guests, a mix of cashiers and kitchen staff amused with seeing one another outside of shift schedules, your attention is drawn to Eren, who seats himself in the spot that Sasha once occupied with all the languor of someone who didn’t show up to the party sober. It doesn’t take much for him to reveal that he heard most of your previous exchange.

“Secret Santa jitters, huh?” he teases, propping himself up against one arm of the sofa. The line cook wears a dark blue cable knit sweater, with what you think is some horrific reimagining of Bob Ross knitted across his chest. Tiny, tinkling silver bells adorn the hem, glittering as he shifts in his seat. His hair, typically tied up and away from his face during shifts, spills loosely over his shoulders and shags over his eyes. You recall the way he looked at you earlier in the night behind the storage shed and remember his insistence that you dance with him at this party. In the warm lighting from the barrage of Christmas lights that line Sasha’s living room ceiling, he almost looks pretty like this.

You shoot him a look. “What’s it to you, Eren?”

“Just wondering if I made the nice list,” he quips, winking playfully. You make note of the lack of red rimming his eyes. Maybe he is sober then?

“Cute,” you scoff, trying to dismiss the way heat rises to your cheeks at the comment. Maybe you’re the one that needs to sober up. “Now go sweep something or whatever is it you do when you’re not getting high and crashing parties.”

Eren smirks but doesn’t leave. Instead, he nods in the direction of the gift table, of the little red disaster bag that haunts the corner of your eye. “So, who’s the lucky recipient of your generosity?”

You sigh, giving in to the conversation. “Well, the point of Secret Santa is that it’s a secret-,”

“Jean, huh? That’s interesting.” While you sputter at his presumptuousness, Eren’s expression tightens for a moment, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

Before you can question his tone – or how the hell he had even overheard you and Sasha, for that matter – Sasha calls for attention announcing the start of the gift exchange. 

You leave Eren on the couch to grab your present, eager to get away from whatever that was. You have enough to be anxious about tonight without Eren Jeager getting into the mix. Unsure how Jean will react to your carefully chosen present, you grip the little red bag a little tighter.

In the end, you don’t even get to witness Jean’s reaction to your gift. All of that tension, all of your worries on the drive here, all of your anxiety leading up to this moment is all for naught. Eren Jeager makes sure of that.

He doesn’t even try to sound remorseful once he spills his wine down the front of your sweater just as you’re about to hand off your gift to your should-be-former crush. You had mustered up the courage to approach Jean, who had finally wrenched himself from Mikasa’s grasp for a brief moment to collect a wrapped parcel of his own. But as soon as you reach out to catch the day shift manager’s attention, your entire body is shifted off-center. Eren collides into your right side, tipping his glass into your chest with little more than a half-assed, “Whoops, my bad.”

You gasp, the force of Eren’s weight and a mix of shock and horror sending you reeling back from Jean. The surrounding partygoers come to a halt, Jean included as he turns to finally take in the sight of you for the first time tonight, mortified and doused in red wine that bleeds through the front of your white cashmere sweater like an open wound. The little red gift bag hangs limply in your hands.

Jean calls your name, voice colored with surprise and concern, but you’re already marching towards the bathroom, eyes stinging, hands shaking, dropping the gift bag somewhere on the way between pushing through little clusters of your coworkers all squeezed into Sasha’s homey apartment.

Much to your relief, the bathroom to the guest bedroom is already unlocked and unoccupied, a temporary haven for you to gather your bearings.

Or so you thought.

It’s not long before Eren finds you, gently knocking on the door with a soft call of your name. You’ve spent the past few minutes fruitlessly dabbing at the stain blossoming on your chest with paper towels and cold water, only succeeding in smearing it into a much larger mess. The snowflakes carefully stitched into the pattern of your sweater begin to take on a faint salmon color, the sight in the mirror only serving to fuel your frustration. Tears well up in your eyes as mortification over the night’s events threaten to overwhelm you, but Eren’s voice startles you into a sense of annoyance. In your panic and haste, you had forgotten to lock the door behind you.

The bathroom door swings open, and you glance up in time to see Eren duck inside, his expression softened with a hint of something you’re too bewildered to decipher. Your heart sinks when you realize Jean doesn’t file in behind him.

“Need some help?” Eren offers, an uncharacteristically sincere tone to his voice.

You shoot him a skeptical look, “Are you being serious right now?”

 Rather than back off when met with your icy demeanor, Eren closes the door behind him. And rather than tell him off when he turns you to face him, nearly bumping heads in the cramped guest bathroom, you both set to work with damp paper towels.

You work in silence, under the harsh fluorescent lighting, the sounds of the party raging on outside. Eren’s touch is gentle, and purposeful as he braces your shoulder with one hand and dabs just under your neckline with the other. A pensive look falls over his face. You wait for an apology that doesn’t come.

Distantly, you hear the Christmas music switch to something with a little more bass and know that Connie has hijacked the speaker. As you dab at the hem of your sweater, convinced that the stain would be a permanent fixture in your sweater at this point, you glance up to notice a smile playing on your intruder’s lips.

You shoot him a withering look, “You think this is funny?”

Eren breaks out into a full-on smirk, impish even, looking a bit more like the line cook you’ve known to antagonize you. He tosses his paper towel in the trash and leans against the bathroom counter, his green eyes fixed on you. For a brief moment, they simmer with spitefulness. “I think it’s a hell of a lot less depressing than watching you openly moon over horse face.”

“Horse face?” You blanch. “You mean Jean-,”

“-Besides, I did you a favor. Now you don’t have to go and be disappointed him.”

Your frustration grows, but beneath it, there’s a spark of defiance. You snap at him, “What does it even matter to you, Eren? All night you’ve been on my case; at work, at this party! Whatever I give to Jean – whatever I have or don't have going with Jean is none of your business.”

You feel the tension between you, thick and charged, but the satisfied look on Eren’s face never wavers. He’s lax, head tilted back as he observes you over the bridge of his nose with a gaze that meets yours that could almost be described as bored if not for the hungry something lurking in them. That same look from your closing shift, passing him the broom. He’s not high anymore, you determine, hasn’t been for a while if the intense look expression, and the clarity of his gaze is anything to go by, so you can’t chalk it up to insobriety. You distantly wonder how much more often he’s looked at you like that. For how long? How have you never noticed? It seems so much more apparent like this, outside of work. So much harder to ignore with no metal counters to divide you, and no uniforms to keep up to code.

In your anger, you’ve stepped closer, balling the used towel in one fist and bracing against the counter with the other, half caging in the much taller man against the sink. You don’t realize how close you are, face to face like this, drawn in by the intensity of his eyes. The bathroom feels smaller, the air heavier, and you’re acutely aware of every beat of your heart.

 You mutter, “What the hell is with you?” and he huffs a laugh through his nose, a real smile on his lips as you draw near.

“If only you fucking knew.”

Eren leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a bold move that leaves you momentarily stunned. For a moment, you forget about the chaos of the party outside. When he finally presses his lips to yours, it’s a slow kiss laced with arrogance, a statement of intent. And despite your annoyance, you can’t help the feeling of warmth that floods you. Hands seek each other out in a flurry of movement. The paper towels and spilled wine are forgotten as Eren’s hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer. Eren lets you cage him fully against the bathroom sink, if only to fit one leg between yours and slot his fingers from around your waist to the back of your neck, into your hair with the free hand not holding himself up against the counter.

The kiss is a collision of emotions – frustration, surprise, and an underlying current of something you hadn’t quite acknowledged before and aren’t entirely sure if you’re ready to either. Unhurried and messy, you can feel the groan that reverberates through Eren’s chest against your own as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. He tastes like smoke and red wine and metal. There’s no urgency behind his moments, languid with the way explores your mouth, as if a crowd of people you’ve worked with throughout some of the more formative years of your life aren’t separated from you by a singular door. As if the man you’d sworn you’d come back to try to commit to wasn’t a brisk walking distance away. He kisses you like a lover, and not like a man who has made it his mission to spend every waking moment you’ve had together grating your nerves.

Surprise shocks you at the swipe of his tongue ring against your lower lip. His thumb at your neck strokes along your chin, and your jaw with a touch that’s borderline reverent. A balmy, pleasant feeling unfurls in your chest, thrums in your veins as you allow him to tilt your head back and deepen the kiss. Eren’s lips are warm and insistent, and despite the bizarre circumstances, you feel right at home in his grasp.

The sounds of the party outside fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic thud of your heart in your ears.

You’re surprised at how gentle he is. Firm, unrelenting in his touch, sure, but with none of the simmering aggression you’d come to associate him with. Strong, sure hands, slide encircle your hips under your sweater, thumbs dragging across your hip bones at the hem of your jeans. Stoking that smoldering feeling in your chest, a simmering in your low belly. The sensation earns him a gasp, interrupted by his lips.  It takes little convincing for you to remove the sweater altogether, discarding the article of clothing along with it.

You’re rewarded with a pained groan as Eren breaks the kiss long enough to admire you like this, all flush and disheveled from the neck up. His doing. Not Jean’s. He can’t help but feel smug satisfaction, finally having quelled that ugly, nagging feeling that had built up in his chest once he had realized just why you had been so anxious to get to the party tonight. None of that matters now. Eren is too focused on chasing the press of your hips against his. Too focused on the feeling of your lips and the little gasps you make each time he moves to tuck into the crook of your neck instead, teeth finding their way to the pliable skin at the juncture of your bare neck. Too enamored by the way the lust and wine make your eyes hazy and soft on him in a way he wishes you’d look at him during the daytime.

Breaking your gaze, Eren rearranges your legs so that you’re nearly seated on his lap with the way you lean over him against the counter. Eren’s fingertips find their way beneath the hem of your bra, sliding over the seams of your ribcage to trace and then squeeze at the expanse of bare skin there. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, content to rock in his lap and suck on his tongue until the rough pads of his thumbs swipe over your nipples, rendering you just a little more desperate.

“Oh – oh. Eren, please-,” The little silver bells sewn into the collar of his sweater jingle with every rock of your hips, and you can’t help but snicker against his lips once you notice the sound.

“Let me – here, let me take this shit off.” Eren gives you just enough room to swipe the festive sweater over his head, just enough time to toss it somewhere on the floor before he’s on you again. One large hand palms your rear, the other resting against your collarbones, fingers encircling your throat to guide you back into one more heated kiss, prying your mouth open with his teeth and tongue, rolling yours over his.

Your own wandering hands tangle in his hair as it curtains your face, trace the sinewy lines of his back as you silently wonder if he’s always been this strong.

Eren doesn’t let you wonder for long, managing to scoop up you inside the broom closet-sized confines of the spare bathroom and place you on the closed lid of the toilet, skirt fluttering up to the tops of your thighs with a swift motion.

“Wait, woah-,” You’re so caught off guard by the sudden motion, that you nearly miss Eren stooping down to kneel in front of your place on the toilet, large hands bracketing each of your knees. He leans in, a secret smile gracing his features, green eyes bright with mischief under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“I figured, this is the least I can do after ruining your night, right?” As he speaks, his hands hook around the backs of your knees, helping him make room for a space between them.  He takes a second to gauge your reaction, and you belatedly put the pieces together of what he’s asking with a slight shiver. His smile ie earnest, eyes unexpectedly sincere.

You think of putting back on your sweater and going back out there to face Jean. You think of fishing your gift out of whatever unfortunate corner of the room it fell into. Of returning home having achieved little other than embarrassing yourself in front of coworkers and friends.

Your thumb traces Eren’s lower lip, and you realize you’re taking too long to answer. Eren. Line cook Eren. Eren the bane-of-every-night-shift-ever Jeager. After all you’ve said and done, after years of working together, can you come back from something like this?

Eren sits back on his heels and presses a kiss to the soft skin of the inside of your knee. Well, you sigh, stroking a hand through his dark tresses, almost lovingly. The hungry, impish grin you receive when you can only respond with a half-choked “please,” is enough to make your heart stutter in your chest. A win is a win.

Unfortunately for you, there reaches a point where you’re not even sure who’s really winning. Eren eats pussy like he was made for it.

He starts slow, tracing his nose up and down the gusset of your panties like you’re not cramped together in the guest bathroom at your mutual friend’s party. Like he’s got all the time in the world. Gentle touches across the backs of your thighs, the plane of your stomach.

When you start to wiggle with impatience, he bites into the crease between your sex and upper thigh, deep and indulgent enough to make you cry out. He doesn’t care much for your choice in panties – they’re quick to join the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor anyway.

Eren switches your position again, turning you face forward and bent over the toilet so that your hands brace the lid. You fold your arms, pressing your cheek into the bends of your elbows when he encourages you to arch your back further, palm large and warm and sliding down your spine. From where he kneels, he locks one arm around your hips, the other hand bracketing the crease at your asscheek, just at the top of your thigh. You are rendered immobile, vulnerable as he spreads you open to his gaze and laves once between your folds.

“Fuck-!” The exclamation comes out warbled, almost tearful into the crook of your arms. You wiggle your hips in search of more contact, but the touch never comes. Eren’s mouth remains frustratingly out of reach, instead tracing your folds with his thumb. Of course, he doesn’t start right away. Indulges in the way you squirm, half out of impatience, half apprehension.

Complaints earn you a sharp smack! where you’re left wet and wanting. Your knees bow, legs trembling from the shock of the sudden assault on such sensitive nerves.

“Eren,” you bite back a moan. Your antagonist shushes and coos at your anguish, only pausing in his condescension to sink his teeth into the cheek not held in his grasp. The whine that works its way out of you in response is loud enough for him to relent after a moment, playfully admonishing you.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be this fuckin’ noisy?” He mutters, lips ghosting over where you need him most. “So damn uptight and quiet at work until it’s time to chew me out, right? Now look at you.” Embarrassment colors your cheeks at his words, feeling the slick wetness between your thighs you know he must have a plain view of, and you distantly wonder how you allowed this to escalate so quickly.

From your bent position, you think you hear him swallow, mouth working over something that’s decidedly not you until you feel something liquid and warm spatter over your mound. Biting back another moan, you silence the small, nagging part of your brain that seethes at the possibility of him holding this moment over your head in the future. Taking note of the litter of bruises that mark the backs of your thighs, you know the decision you both are making will literally come back to bite you in the ass tomorrow. Tomorrow, when you have to inevitably face him at work again, along with the rest of your coworkers who are no doubt wondering where you’ve been at this point. Eren uses the pads of his thumbs to spread your lips again, brushing a gentle, teasing kiss across your clit and you decide you’ll reconcile with yourself on the matter in the morning.

“Oh fuck, oh god,” you mumble, unable to work up the energy to be irritated when you feel the way he smiles against you.

When Eren finally decides to give in, it comes with a price. His lips seal over the span of your sex, sucking on one fold, then the other before gracing you with a broad stroke across your slit, and you’re a goner.  

“Mm-oh! Oh.”

That price is your sanity and your resolve to stay as quiet as possible.

He devours you, seemingly unable to decide between one pace and another as he eagerly works his tongue into your molten core.  He’s mean. Deliberate. Worst of all, he seems to be enjoying himself. Starting slow, savoring all of your heat and taste on his tongue. Then fast and relentless, flicking devastating strokes across your clit in a motion that leaves you gripping the lid beneath you. Chest heaving in exertion as you attempt to hold back your cries.

Your legs ache and tremble, knees biting into the cool lip of the toilet lid each time Eren presses you forward in his insistence. Eren dips the tip of his tongue into your slit, nose pressed between your folds with a self-satisfied moan, causing you to jerk and keen in his grasp. Your arms squeak across the porcelain when you jostle a little too far out of grasp. The angle he has you bent at presses you up onto your toes. Eren tightens his grasp around your waist. He presses one long digit into your core and you cry out into your elbows.

“Fuck, just-just a little longer, okay? Just gimme a little more, yeah,” he mumbles, deep, raspy, fucked out, and sounding more like an assurance for himself than you.

The finger inside you and the hand at your thigh disappear momentarily, and you wonder if he’s touching himself. The position he has you in means you’d have to crane your neck backward just to catch a glimpse of his lower half. The thought fuels the searing heat in your veins, as does the slick sound of wet skin and the resounding whimper breathed against your core, confirming your suspicions.

“Eren,” you gasp, whimper, locking up at the sight of his free hand palming at the profuse bulge in his jeans, veins popping in his arms at the effort. “Fuck, wait, fuck-!”

You come hard and fast, blood roaring in your ears, fingers gripping the lid with a white-knuckle grip as you squirm in Eren’s grasp. Coming together and falling apart in an overwhelming wave of pleasure that catches you off guard. Eren is quick to catch on, both hands returning to your hips to lock you in an embrace, face pressed into your sex in earnest. You twitch and writhe in his grasp, unable to escape from his relentless assault on your senses. He talks you through it when he can bear to detach his mouth from you, murmuring praises into the heated skin of your thighs. Bliss crackles up your spine and warms you inside out from head to toe.

“Eren, god, please,” you simper, dizzy with your fading arousal, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. To stop? To keep going?

Eren decides for you, pressing one last parting kiss to your mound before getting to his feet. The moments following go about in relative silence. Despite him having been between your legs just seconds ago, you’re quick to feel awkward and aren’t exactly sure what to say. Surprisingly ever the gentleman, Eren helps you rise off the lid and redress and clean on shaky legs. You are slow to stand upright. Unable to meet his eyes as you try to reconstruct your thoughts from mush. He slides your panties back over your hips and trades your ruined sweater for his own.

Eren stops you before you can protest the offer, vehemently against him commuting home at night, in the cold shirtless. “I’ll just take Armin’s jacket,” he reassures you, adjusting the collar of the horrendous Bob Ross fabrication at your neck. The tiny silver bells jingle at his touch, sounding akin to tinkling laughter

Over his shoulder, you take in your appearance in the mirror. You had done your best to right your disheveled makeup and hair, but the bruises on your neck and the obvious wardrobe change were a lost cause. Even if you dipped out of the party now, there was no avoiding being seen. You were going to have some questions to answer in the morning.

Eren catches your contemplative expression and matches one with his own, a little guarded now. Before now, neither of you had been on the best of terms. A history of annoyance and resentment that lasted years brewed between the two of you. But now…

Now as you consider how terrible the night had gone and the embarrassment you’ll face when Jean inevitably picks up that little red bag with his name on it, now as watch Eren wipe leftover slick off the corner of his lip before sucking the offending finger clean, you figure that’s something you can sort out another day.

5 New Messages

hey! I saw what happened w Eren, u alr??

hello??

I got ur present! Txt me when you get home!

hey!!

can we talk?

#eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot #aot smut #aot fluff #jean kirstein #jean x reader #pepper's!au #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #jean kirschtein x reader #ctcgu

[swordcreature]

Could I request kissing headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor?

anon i just loved thinking about how these guys kiss. i had to keep this to a medium length because 1. i could literally go on forever and 2. there are barely any others ways to say the word kiss without sounding silly. i typed the word kiss so many times it stopped looking like a real word.

that being said i hope you like it!!!!

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Kissing

can i get through one simple request without making sexual suggestions? the answer is no. MDNI/18+

How the tiefling boys kiss you

Dammon: 

Gosh I could think of so many ways Dammon shares his love with kissing. 

Sweet kisses where he holds your face in both of his hands and just presses his lips against yours again and again and again. 

Unhurried, lusty kisses with one hand on your hip, the other lightly on your neck while his tongue enters your mouth to tease you. 

Quick, tiny pecks throughout the day just to feel his lips on yours, even if it’s just for a second. 

Tired kisses in the middle of the night when he wakes up needing to feel your lips!!! 

I feel like Dammon is totally the type of guy to always smile into a kiss. Doesn’t matter if it’s a chaste smooch or something more heated, he’s happiest when your lips are locked and he’s not afraid to show it! 

He can’t help but love the way you taste against his mouth. It’s addicting to him, and it reminds me of how other parts of you taste.  

So, no surprise here that kissing often leads to other activities, if you catch my drift. 

A little bit of me thinks it’s a part of an oral fixation; he really likes using his mouth for the purpose of pleasure.  

And boy does he have a talented tongue. 

But also, he’s a romantic at heart! And he devotes himself, heart and soul, to his partner –  wanting to show love to them however possible. Kissing is just an easy, natural way to do it.  

Of course, he’s learned how to let his emotions flow through his lips.  

Rolan: 

Okay first. Angry kisses. Rolan, frustrated with you for whatever reason, pulling you against him roughly. Holding your jaw tightly. Kissing you firmly as though it may ease some of his anger. His angry kisses are slow and methodical as he works through his more stubborn emotions.  

I imagine those kisses lead to more, a lot of the time.  

He seems like the type of person to equate any type of strong emotion with kissing though. 

Annoyed? He pins you against the wall just quickly shut you up with one long kiss, hands at your waist.  

Happy? He pulls you in with his tail around your wrist, to place little pecks all over your face until you’re both giggling.  

Sad? He clings to you for dear life. Caging you in with his arms and just holding you against his mouth with only minimal movement, only wanting to feel you, to know you’re real and there with him. 

I see him as someone that doesn’t do very salacious kisses unless it’s in the bedroom. He doesn’t care to be seen with his tongue down your throat by anyone (except maybe if you get him drunk enough, but even then, it’s a long shot), so he saves that for when you’re alone.  

But when you are? He loves to suck on your tongue. Love when you kitten lick into his mouth to get his lips open.  

Whereas Dammon is a smiley kisser, Rolan is a “brow furrowed in concentration” kisser. CHANGE MY MIND. 

Zevlor: 

Zevlor is a reserved kisser a lot of the time.  

Trying to get this man to give you any more than a quick peck when you’re out and about is near impossible.  

He’s just old fashioned, an honorable guy, and he thinks those kinds of things are best done in private – to be enjoyed only by the two involved. 

Every once in a while, he will indulge just a bit further. He’ll put his hands on your hips and let his lips linger just a little longer than normal. But this is heavily dependent upon where he is, who he’s with, etc.  

And it always ends with him flushing such a pretty shade of deep red.  

When you are alone? Listen. Zevlor can be a filthy kisser.  

He tilts your head back so he can angle you in the right way to open your lips with his tongue, massaging yours with a wet, open mouth. He kisses like he goes down on you: messy in the best of ways. 

These kisses aren’t even always saved for the bedroom either. Sometimes he wants to kiss you passionately, just because. 

Of course, he has soft, romantic kisses too. He’s the kind of man to settle your worries with a kiss.  

An anchoring kiss when he surrounds you – so that you can lose yourself in his embrace, forgetting about the outside world. 

A calming kiss when you need a distraction – so he can pull you out of thoughts for a moment to focus on his lips.  

It’s like any fear or problem you have, Zevlor can fix it with his lips. Or his tongue. 

#bg3 #bg3 dammon #bg3 zevlor #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #my writing #dammon #zevlor #rolan #requests/suggestions #dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #anon #hcs

[indieyuugure]

How do you do hair so well? (specifically Raph’s hair in your mutation situation comic)

Hair, okay. I guess I don’t really think about it much, but I think I can make a little tutorial.

Alright, here’s a sketch. I’ve got a clear picture of where the most important points are, his forehead, his ear, and the crown of his head.

For me, I don’t have to do this step because I’ve drawn hair so many times, I just know where the hairline is, but for the sake of seeing what I see, I’ve drawn the hairline in red.

Pretty rough honestly, if the character had a buzz cut, I’d probably tweak a few things, but it’s just a rough outline. Anyway, it’s important to use the important points I mentioned above to not only draw the hairline, but also for the next step.

Now that I know where his hair is going to be, I can draw it. Raph would have bangs like his brothers, but his headband presses them up into spikes. I usually just make the spikes in a general randomized size, though a pattern I tend to follow starting at the origin point on the side of the character’s head is:

little, big, big, little, medium, little, little

Idk why, I guess I just gravitate towards that pattern.

Something important to keep in mind when drawing hair is the direction in which it will naturally want to flow. I think at first this is tricky to understand and predict, kinda like a water splat, but the more you draw hair, the more you start to see the patterns.

Some basic rules about the flow of hair are that everyone has one or two “origin points.” My mom calls them swirlies. These are the little spots on the back/side of your head that is where the hair spikes out. Girls probably never knew about these or had to deal with them unless you’ve had really short hair before. For boys, this is the spot where they get the most annoying cowlicks. Keep in mind that hair spirals out from this point. However where this point is changes on every person, some people (like my brother) have two.

Another rule is that if someone has what’s called a “widow’s peak” then their hair will always part in the center and have puff a bit, I know because I have this 😭. People with a widow’s peak in their hair can’t have bangs that don’t part down the middle, naturally anyway. Their hair flows out from the center point as well as from the back. Not everyone has this, but it’s something to keep in mind :]

Knowing these points of flow, I can now refine the rough drawing into something pretty. The lines I put in show the origins of the hair an the direction of flow.

I hope this was helpful! I don’t really think about this kind of thing a lot since for me, I’ve had almost every length of hair, so drawing this is more intuitive. I tried to explain the best I could what goes through my mind, so hopefully this helps you with your drawings!

Good question! :]

#tmnt #q&a #the mutation situation #art #art stuff #art tips #drawing stuff #drawing tips #hair #drawing hair #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012

[the-man-in-the-suit-official]

Strange Mercy.

Summary: After hooking up with Harry occasionally, you fall pregnant. The real problem starts when he begins touring, and no matter what, you can never seem to make it past fans - or even the guards in order to tell him.

A/N: (D/N) = Daughter’s Name

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Length: Medium

TW: Cheating, Single Pregnancy, Violence While Pregnant (Slight), Hookup, Angst (Fluff at the end)

Celebrities: Harry E. Styles

Song(s) To Listen To: Strange Mercy - St. Vincent

You met him at a party. You had been a groupie of some lowly band, really just because you liked their music, but since then, their guitarist had taken a liking to you. You had hoped this meant you were his girlfriend, and yeah, he’d sleep with you and take you on ‘dates,’ but he’d do this with other women, too.

Truthfully, Harry wasn’t even supposed to be there. The party was in New York, close to the building that happened to be throwing an after party for an awards ceremony. So when he saw you smoking a cigarette outside the building, watching the dirty guitarist flirt with a few girls to the left of you, he approached you.

“Erm,” He began, shifting your attention.

He was dressed rather lavishly, but casual for the party. He wore a floral Gucci button up shirt and dress pants with Gucci shoes. The Apple Watch against his wrist read, “You’ve Arrived!”

“Is this The Louvat? It doesn’t really look like it…” His accent was thick, rolling off his tongue slowly.

Taking another drag, you chuckled a bit, “No, this is Lamar, the bar a bunch of shitty bands play at? You must have mistyped it.”

You looked back at your ‘boyfriend,’ watching as he slid a hand up one of the girls’ waist. You settled into your fluffy coat a bit more.

“Here,” You took his phone and typed in the right thing, “So you don’t miss it.”

Harry blinked. It was odd not to be noticed, but he wasn’t complaining, and eased into it, “Thank you.”

“The Louvat, how’d you miss that?” Another chuckle escaped your lips, “Hasn’t it got paparazzi littering the place?”

Furrowing your brows, squinting and pressing your lips into a thin line, you asked, “Are you famous?”

This time, it was his turn to chuckle nervously, “Eh,” He shrugged.

You softened your face a bit, glancing at Luke, the guitarist, who now was caught up wrestling tongues with a different girl. You looked down, “Well, you should probably get going, huh?”

You flicked your cigarette to the side, and he noticed the man you were looking at.

Dipping his eyebrows in worry, something came over him, “Would you like to come with me? Completely free. You just, I don’t think you really belong here, is all.”

A pink dusted your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but blame it on the cold Fall air.

“I…” You looked toward Luke, but the stranger stepped closer, gently turning your head toward him by the chin.

“Think of yourself, alright?”

Those sea green eyes could have controlled you. Suddenly, it wasn’t chilly. It was warm, stemming from your heart.

“Aright,” You responded softly, “I’d love to go.”

To be honest, he could have been a kidnapper or a killer, but could one have such sweet eyes? And to be fair, you’d rather be anywhere but here.

He smiled at you softly, “Well, I’m quite early since I had a feeling I’d get lost. Let’s get you something to wear, yeah?”

You’d been dressed the opposite of him - wearing a sleazy coat lined with faux fur zipped right as low as it could be without showing too much cleavage, Daisy Dukes, and a pair of tennis shoes. All to impress some boy that didn’t seem to want you anyway.

You’d felt hot earlier, but in the presence of this stranger and his enchanting eyes, you melted with embarrassment.

“That would be great,” You sighed with a smile, “Someone told me to wear this here, and now he’s off flirting with someone else.”

“I see,” Harry began, “Then you need to choose what you like…” He trailed off.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N),” You took a hand out of your pocket and held it out, but he kissed it instead.

“Harry Styles. Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Luke caught a glimpse of you leaving with your handsome stranger, angrily shouting after you, but you flipped him off and laughed as the car strolled on, turning back to Harry soon after.

Harry had found himself enchanted by your laugh. You were gorgeous in the face of revenge.

And that’s where it began. You’d become good friends since then, and when you made your ‘debut’ accompanying him, you’d been dressed in lavish branded clothes, from your dress to your heels to your accessories.

You owed him a lot, really, but working as a waitress really sucked. You didn’t get paid much, unless some guy had taken a liking to you and you flirted back a bit.

But now, every attractive guy seemed less and less so, even when your coworker, Emma, seemed to gleam the handsome men. Harry, though, seemed more beautiful by the minute.

“I still can’t believe your friends with him,” Emma sighed, obviously envious, “And that you didn’t know who he was!”

She had begged you so many times to get him to meet her, and you refused, knowing her and her…tendencies. Not that you disapproved, you just wanted to keep Harry safe. Safe. What a weird way to put it.

Your shift had just ended and Emma was on break, though you weren’t even listening as you fixed your makeup and waited for your ride.

He came strolling in soon after, curls gorgeously bouncing with his steps, smiling from ear to ear when he caught a look at you.

“(Y/N)!”

The diner was nearly empty now, so he noted he could make a quick entrance and exit.

“H!” You smiled and ran toward him, hugging the taller man, “You all packed up?”

He nodded, hugging you back, “Yeah, but you call me if that Luke is giving you anymore trouble, alright?”

You nodded, starry-eyed and so obviously enamored, “Thank you.”

It was Harry’s yacht party when it happened. The both of you were as sober as can be. You had admitted (hesitantly, of course) that you were afraid of the water, and Harry, without the bat of an eye, decided that he would watch over you and drink nothing for the night.

Ultimately, you felt bad, but noted that he seemed to be having as much fun at his going-away party as he would under the influence.

“(Y/N),” He started, once he managed to come away from the crowd of celebrities you still couldn’t process were actually there, “I rented the yacht out for the night. After the party, you wanna take it around?”

Your heart leaped at the opportunity to have Harry alone, and you nodded, “That sounds great!”

And when the time finally came and the last person left, he turned to you with a huge smile.

Who would have thought that you’d be here, with the most handsome man you’d ever seen? He had a goofy smile and eyes that glittered, the ocean reflecting on them.

He was perfect.

“There are some pretty things out here,” He had spoken, excitement bleeding into his voice, “I wanted to show you.”

You were quite surprised that he even knew how to drive a boat, but you felt safe with him either way as he steered it through the night.

And there you sat together, staring at the stars that seemed so much clearer out in the open. His hand found the small of your back quickly but softly, and he smiled into the night sky.

“All of those guys forget that we’re just humans. We’re nothing compared to the stars,” He spoke, not even turning to you.

You hummed happily, not even noticing when he did face you, “Except you, (Y/N).”

You met his eyes in confusion, raising a brow before he continued, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

You smiled bashfully, looking down, “Ah…I’m not that special, H.”

“But you are,” He scooted closer, “I…I knew from the moment we met that there was something different about you.”

Your eyes glimmered when they met with his again, your heart skipping a beat as the salty ocean air nipped your cheeks, “That means the world to me.”

Cupping your face in his hands, he inched your faces closer, “(Y/N)…would you let me love you this once? Before the tour starts again.”

Your face flushed red. And suddenly it made sense. Harry had felt something for you since you met, only he decided not to pursue anything after your breakup, and when you explained to him just how much relationships scared you since Luke. He figured that if dating a minor celebrity hurt you that much, then dating him would only be worse.

But he’d be leaving soon. And you’d miss him so, so much.

You nodded softly, lips parted before his met yours.

The butterflies began to fight their way out of your stomach, even as the kiss grew in intensity, and when he hoisted your legs around his waist, carrying you to the bed downstairs.

There wasn’t much thought for either of you, as he looked down at you, straddling you, “And you’re sure…you want to do this?”

“Yes,” You replied quicker than you meant to, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He was going to say something, but was only surprised when you pulled him by his collar and kissed him deeply.

-

The gentle beams of bright ocean light woke you, and you found yourself covered from your chest down to your thighs in a thick white comforter that felt like the softest thing in the world.

When you turned, you were met with an empty bed, making your heart sink. You’d trusted Harry dearly, would he just leave like Luke would?

You felt your mood begin to sour, that was, until you heard soft singing from above, and smelt blueberry pancakes, your favorite from the diner.

It was Harry, you would come to recognize, and your frown morphed into a wide smile. Once you were able to find the complimentary robe, you slipped it on, noticing it said, ‘Mrs.’

You giggled, figuring Harry had the matching one.

“Good morning, my sweet creature,” He set a plate down on the bar table for you, and another for himself, “How’d you sleep?”

You sat down and began to eat, thanking him before doing so, “Quite lovely, prince of pop.”

He exhaled a laugh, tying the robe around him once more, seeing as it was coming loose.

Part of you hurt, because you knew that you still weren’t quite ready - Like had messed you up terribly, and though Harry made you feel safe, there was still a block.

“Hey,” Harry’s hand met yours as you chewed your food, “I promise this doesn’t change anything. We can remain friends until you’re ready to decide, alright?”

You smiled sentimentally, overwhelmed with his understanding of you, “Thank you, H.”

He kissed your hand gently, and the two of you finished breakfast in peace.

He left less than a week later, taking your source of light with him. You wouldn’t be able to have him back at your house for almost a year, and though you could still visit, it would be hard.

It started with small things. About a month after he left, you began to wake up in the middle of the night more often, restless. Your chest became sore, no matter what, scaring you since your mind jumped straight to the idea of cancer.

It wasn’t until you sat on the toilet after spilling up last night’s dinner that you realized.

You were late.

And the theory became fact as you held onto the two pregnancy tests later that day, hand shaking in fear.

You were happy, of course, but you were anything but ready. Neither of you were.

The rest of the night, you were pacing, trying hard not to freak out in your small, bummy apartment, to no avail.

That night was more restless than the ones before it, and at 4:36 in the morning, you finally decided to tell Harry.

ME: We need to talk. Call me.

And just as quickly as it was sent, there was a reply.

HARRY: Due to insufficient funds, your service has been shut off until further notice. If you think that this is a mistake, or you would like to make a payment, please click the link below.

What awful timing.

It had come between either the phone bill or the rent this month, and you’d decided that you quite enjoyed shelter, but now you regretted it.

There was your friends you could meet in the morning, but Harry would never answer a message from an unknown number, especially one claiming such shocking things.

And who could you even talk to about this? Your family hardly spoke to you, ever since they found out you’d dated Luke, and this would only drive them away further, using their religion as a scapegoat for their pushing you away.

So you’d have to track him down. How hard could it be?

You saved for about three months, finally getting enough money for a plane ticket to meet Harry again, and though you couldn’t afford the concert ticket, you did your best efforts to come up with a plan.

As you idly watched the clock tick by, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Fan girls. Guards. Flashing lights. Nauseating smells.

And then you packed your bag and were on your way. Sneaking in was pretty easy, actually, especially when you recognized one of the guards as the one who drove the two of you to the party that fateful night.

The hard part was getting backstage during his intermission.

You had made it through, but now here was this giant man hassling you. He was buff, standing at at least 6’4”, and looking down at you through his sunglasses. You couldn’t have been farther apart.

“Hey, miss. You’re not allowed back here,” He raised a brow, stepping in front of you again, “I won’t say it again.”

You shook your head, “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a friend of Harry’s, and I really, really need to tell him something important!”

You pushed forward, trying to reach the bright vanity, but the man pushed back with his hands. Instinctively, you grabbed your belly as you fell, landing on your side, a forearm holding you up.

“Hey! I’m fucking pregnant! What the hell?!”

He didn’t seem to care, hoisting you up by the arm on your belly, to your feet. The grip hurt, and you closed your eyes tightly, “I don’t care. I’m doing my job. It’s your fault if the baby dies because of you, you sick whore.”

He had obviously been frustrated, you’d noticed, and maybe he was right. Who were you to sleep around with Harry? Or with Luke? With anyone? What good did it do you but bring you here?

Tears started to sting your eyes, but all you could mutter was, “You’re stupid.”

He tossed you on the ground again, and you landed like before, not even meeting his eyes.

“Very bold of you to s-“ He began, but suddenly froze cold at a voice.

“(Y/N)? Bryan? What the hell are you doing?!” It was the fastest you’d ever heard him speak.

Bryan, you guessed, turned, his mouth agape, “A trespasser.”

“That’s my friend, you idiot! And any man who treats anyone like that shouldn’t be here in the first place!” Harry was now in his face, not even noticing your bump, “You’re fired!”

He looked over to you and his eyes widened in a second, “Oh my god. (Y/N)…you’re pregnant.”

“Really?” You chuckled sarcastically, a bit annoyed at the man as Harry helped you up, “I almost wasn’t when he kept rag-dolling me everywhere.

“Fucking leave,” He turned to the man, venom seething through his words, and when he did so, escorted by other guards, Harry turned back to you.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’ll make sure he’ll never be near us again,” He looked down at the bump, a bittersweet smile on his face, “Was it Luke?”

You felt safe with him, like usual, and you felt butterflies begin to swarm your insides.

“God, no,” You paused, looking down before meeting his eyes, “It’s yours.”

He froze completely, and you panicked, “But…I don’t mind raising it on my own, Harry. You’re a pop star and I knew what I was getting into, plus you’ll be busy. We can keep it a secret a-“

“No,” He spoke sternly yet softly, his hands holding yours as he smiled down at you, “No.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d want to have my kid,” He chuckled, “I would tell you you have pregnancy glow, but you always look that good.”

He was practically beaming, “God, I’m going to be a father! I can’t believe it! Thank you, thank you,” He hugged you tightly before pulling away, looking as if he realized something grim, “But, erm…if you want to raise it separately and as friends, that’s okay.”

You smiled solemnly, admiring just how stupid this boy was, quickly pulling him by his collar and smashing your lips on his.

When you pulled away, he blinked for a few seconds, “Did I get my point across?”

He nodded, smiling like an idiot.

“Then go out there and focus on your fans, okay? I’ll be in the private booths.”

The night, you thought, couldn’t have ended more wonderfully, but that’s when you were proven wrong. He stood on stage, finishing the previous song, Grapejuice, when he abruptly paused the show.

“Before I continue, I want everyone to know something,” Your heart skipped a beat, “I would like to dedicate this next song, Matilda, to everyone.”

The sentence brought your anxieties back down, “But most of all, (Y/N).”

And the tears began to fall for you, a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“She’s a wonderful girl, a long-time friend of mine who was never treated how she deserved to be treated. The kindest person I know, and the strongest,” He continued on, “And I’m honored to be the father of our baby.”

The crowd erupted into screams and cheers, and tears began to fall from him as well. Shifting his weight on his other leg, he gave his signature air kisses before the music began to play.

“You were riding your bike to the sound of ‘It’s No Big Deal.’”

-

When she, (D/N), finally arrived, it was the best thing to ever happen to either of you. Harry would have sworn by it, despite his very fortunate life, and even as she grew to a toddler, she looked just like him.

It made you smile as you held onto your husband of two years, “God, she looks just like you. From her eyes to her nose to her jaw.”

She was playing with the Golden Retriever puppy you’d gotten to grow up with her. She giggled even as she fell onto her bottom and was covered in kisses.

“She reminds me of you, most of all, love,” He looked at her lovingly, “I’m just worried she’ll be lonely growing up. I can’t imagine not having Gemma with me. I know we rushed into it a bit for her sake, but it’s the best thing we’ve ever done. Well, aside from (D/N).”

You bit your lip slyly, “Don’t worry, H. She won’t have that problem in about seven months.”

His heart stopped, and he practically leaped up in joy, pulling you in by the waist and spinning you.

“You could have destroyed me and refused to be with me. You could have never told me she was mine or worse. When I met you, I knew you were going to be in my life forever. Thank you for taking mercy in the stupid pop star who knocked you up,” Harry met your eyes, speaking softly, “You’re my blessing, my strange mercy.”

#Spotify #angst fic #breakup #angst fanfic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #one direction #songfic #x reader #harry styles blurb #st vincent #pregnant #pregnancy #pregnant reader #dad harry styles #dadrry #x pregnant reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #friends with kids #friends with secrets

[sillystargirll]

Melting

König melts into your touch~

Now König would be lying if he said his attention wasn't drawn to the same girl every day. you were a thing of wonders. you were the fastest and boldest in the unit, Always going head to head with Ghost And you would always spent her day sparring with the men of 141.

 her hair shortened from long to medium length with curly waves your personality was elegant, sophisticated, though sometimes cold and capable of sharp anger. you looked like every guys wet dream. But you were nice and caring despite how you were the only woman in the task force. you were just a mixture of everything amazing.

Here were you both doing paper work in your room.

That being said when you asked him a question and he didn't answer you got frustrated. "Were supposed to be doing paperwork not daydreaming." you spoke. Despite your sentence, you were genuine and caring. your tone was nice. "Uh sorry."

You weren't stupid. you knew he was staring at you but you didn't know how to approach it. Sure you had your fair share of dating men and had sex a couple times but you weren't never the one to initiate it.

König got frustrated as he couldn't concentrate at all anymore. All he wanted to do was just grab and kiss your face. So the masked male did exactly that. He grabbed your face gently and gave her a small kiss. You were quick to kiss back as soon as he broke away. Soon enough your back was pressed to the floor and König was on top of you trailing kisses on your neck.

Despite how amazing König's lips felt you were never a bottom. You couldn't pay him to be a bottom. That being said you quickly flipped it around to where you were on top.

your legs straddled his waist as he looked up at you. "As much as I'd love to continue I need to set a rule." She leaned closed to his ear already causing him to shudder. "I'm always top."

König was a little shocked but it made sense. It didn't matter to him if you topped. He'd get a full view of you. "Okay. Can I request things then?" "Whatever the you want" you leaned down to kiss at his pale skin begging to be marked.

you left small little hickeys around the collar bones but soon got irritated with the shirt. "Shirt off. Pants too." you commanded. König shuddered in delight. Something about you on top was hot.

He was quick to sit up and take his shirt and pants off. you quickly pushed him back down and kissed down his chest.

you sat up for a moment and pulled your PT-shirt off and tossed it with König's clothes. you were eager to just sink onto him but you also wanted to tease him. Letting your desires take control you slipped off your shirt and moved your mouth to his neck.

You left light kisses before pulling him into a heated kiss. König moaned lightly at the dominance. He hated and loved that he was getting turned on at this. Your hands began to trail one his toned out chest. "Usually I would love foreplay but something about you makes me impatient." She groans when König gains a little more confidence and rubs his knee against your clothed heat.

"I thought I made it clear I'm on top and you're on the bottom. you pinned his wrist together to the floor which you slowly let go of. You attached your mouth to his neck, your sharp teeth grazed his neck and he shuddered. In a quick movement, your teeth sunk into his neck which caused quite a loud moan from the male. His hands went to grip around her waist as she kissed around the mark she left.

"Do that again." He spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. you looked down at him. "You want me to bite you again?" you laughed a little. "So the man that so many people fear loves pain. Interesting."

you switched to the other side of his neck and gave it the same treatment, bite included. This came the moment where you stood up and slipped off your pants. König was just staring at you. This was actually happening.

"Bed." König was quick to get onto the bed. You followed after. you sat across from him and slipped off your panties. you hadn't seen König's length yet but since it's been a while so you thinks its best to prep yourself and give him a show. König knew exactly where this was going once you plunged a finger into your dripping heat.

you let out an airy moan when you added a second finger. König wanted so bad to just touch you, taste you, anything. You could see was the lust and want. "Ah go ahead." you pulled her fingers out and König practically tackled you. This teasing was getting out of hand for him. His mouth immediately attached to your heat and he was plunging his tongue in collecting everything he could.

"König." you let out a moan that spurred König on but he was pushed back before he could make you cum. you were on top of him again and pulling off his boxers and adding them to the clothes pile. He was painfully hard which you loved. She lined herself up and lowered onto him.

He filled you up perfectly. you almost let him have control. Keyword almost. you moved slowly as König's eyes focused on your every movement. "Please go faster. This is actually painful." He whined and god did that turn you on. König the most feared man in the battle field whining. you picked up the pace and angle yourself differently just slightly for him to hit that right spot. That caused a loud squeak which made König buck his hips back into the spot.

It wasn't long before König to cum into you. "So close." You muttered. König decided if he couldn't top he'd help just a little. He rubbed your clit just a little causing you to reach your orgasm. That was it. You released a long string of moans, all of König name as she came. It took them a minute to calm down before you got off König and laid next to him for a while.

After you sat up and got off the bed. "Where are you going?" He asked. "To hit the showers, Luckily Its late." you thought for a moment. "Care to join me ?"

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