#contours of the heart

[emmieedwards]

Resenha: Easy, de Tammara Webber

Livro: Easy Série: #1 - Contornos do Coração Autora: Tammara Webber Gênero: Romance Contemporâneo, Drama Ano de Publicação: 2013 Editora: Verus Páginas: 305 Classificação: +16

Há livros e »livros«. Com certeza, Easy, não é um »livro« no quesito enredo, em 2012 as coisas eram muito mais…básicas, vamos dizer assim, mas isso não tira o mérito de Tammara Webber de ter um estilo de escrita completamente viciante.

Em "Easy" conhecemos Jacqueline, uma garota que foi para uma faculdade específica para ficar perto do seu namorado de ensino médio e que se vê perdida quando o relacionamento acaba.

E as coisas não poderiam ficar piores: em uma das primeiras festas depois do término, Jacqueline é atacada por uma pessoa próxima que tenta abusá-la sex ualmente.

Desesperada, ela é salva por um misterioso rapaz que estava no lugar certo na hora certa e que parece saber muito mais sobre ela do que o contrário.

Enquanto tenta não dar enfoque no seu trauma recente, Jaqueline começa a perceber que toda a sua vida e carreira foram moldadas em torno de seu ex: a faculdade, seus planos, sua inscrição na matéria de economia, e até mesmo a maioria dos seus amigos eram os amigos de seu ex que depois da separação quase nem olham na cara dela.

De brinde, enquanto se recuperava do pé na bunda, ela se viu incapaz de comparecer na prova do meio do semestre e está prestes a tomar bomba em Economia.

Se esforçando para reparar os estragos, Jacqueline começa a ser mais perceptiva à presença de Lucas, seu salvador misterioso, ao seu redor e começa a contemplar a ideia de colocar a história com seu ex finalmente no passado. O problema é que a conquista com Lucas pode ser um pouco difícil e talvez ela esteja gostando muito mais de trocar alguns e-mails com seu monitor de economia.

"Easy" é um combo de coisas que aparentemente envelheceram mal, mas que surpreendentemente tem um conteúdo cativante. A capa não ajuda nem um pouco, a sinopse é um tanto suspeita e o blurb comparando-o com "Belo Desastre" também não é um bom indicativo.

Mas, contra todas as probabilidades, eu me diverti muito lendo e praticamente não consegui largar a leitura até terminar. O tema sobre o abuso, apesar de não ser extremamente aprofundado foi tratado de uma forma bastante "ok" e lúcida, sem ter aquele tom machista que coloca a culpa nas mulheres. O nosso mocinho emo aparentemente bad boy não é um rebelde sem causa que está pouco se importando para o mundo e ousaria dizer que ele é um dos personagens mais sensatos de todo o livro. A mocinha também não é insuportável e o desenvolvimento de personagem dela não gira apenas em torno do relacionamento.

Além disso, o casal é bem interessante juntos, dialogam bem e tem uma química muito bacana.

Claro, "Easy" não é um livro que vai mudar vidas, nem vai te fazer "cult", mas passa mensagens importantes e, o melhor, vai ser aquele entretenimento que muitos leitores estão procurando.

Recomendo a leitura para aqueles que vão de coração aberto.

Alguém por aí já leu? O que acharam?

NOTA: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 - 4/5

*Apesar de fazer parte de uma série, a maior parte dos livros são de leituras independentes"

Alerta de gatilhos: tentativa e menção de abuso se xu al (não tem descrição explícita), descredibilização da vítima, as sé dio, agressão física, assas si na to, menção de sui cí dio.

#emmieedwards #emmieverso #resenha #review #book review #book recommendations #recomendações literárias #easy #contornos do coração #contours of the heart #series #tammara webber #tammarawebber #contours of the heart series #literatura estrangeira #romance #romance contemporâneo #book tumblr #bookstan #livros #books #bookaddict #leitura #drama #indicação #book reviews #books and reading #reading #bookworm #booktblr

[mienar]

remnants of where we have been

instagram | shop | commission info

#artists on tumblr #animated illustration #animated gif #digital art #2d animation #environment art #environment illustration #backgrounds #background illustration #art backgrounds #night sky #constellation #cozy #myillust #hellooo! just wanted to drop by and share this piece with you! #there were a combination of ideas here: i wanted to do a glowing cityscape of its city lights and have it softly blur into the night sky #the title is also a big description for this i guess - 'remnants of where we have been' is like how the city lights were where humans were #the clutter around the character shows the remnants or the past of what they did #the map-like contours of the skies are like where the stars have travelled #idk i guess it's something that i think about often and it makes my heart ache sometimes;; #anyways! i really hope you'll like this! thank you so much for reading through this if you have and for your support as always c':

[suaimhneas-gairid]

feeling the jere thirst a lot today

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #buddy he better ton my paida real quick #rie on my huja #i was pretty tame recently #maybe it's pent up #he just looks so beautiful #every pic every gif every artwork #he shines brighter today idk #maybe it's the heavy bronzer from the finances webinar #really contoured his way into my heart #spoiler #it's absolutely not that #that makeup did not do it for me #anyway #hoo boy #i have no odea where i got half these pics so if there are people i need to credit lmk and I'll edit the post

[beastboyisbestboy]

Too many comic artists draw old Beast Boy as a ripped hunk, like dehydrated Hugh Jackman. It always ends up looking goofy as fuck and ugly to boot. Old Beast Boy should look like a hot-as-hell Big Guy with a huge tummy and a furry body to boot. Because you know that motherfucker would love making stupid puns abt being A Literal Bear.

#cmon guys #I know that we’re uncomfortable with plus size people in fandom #but you know #deep in your heart #this is biblically accurate Garfield #also abs look so weird contoured in green #stop trying to make sexy grinch happen #it’s not gonna happen #beast boy #garfield logan #teen titans #dc comics

[yoursjaeyun]

cheekbone be on fleek

#tried on a new contour 😭 #anyways #baby goats. #i love them sm #they have my heart

[beatrice1010]

Better things are coming. ✿

#beatrice heart #beatrice ෆ #cute #makeup #edit #girl #model #eye makeup #winged eyeliner #selfie #eye glitter #glitter eyeshadow #eye contacts #pale #lipstick #glossy lips #face contour #foundation #glasses #hair style #filter #hair ideas #pretty #random tags #Better things are coming

[mejomonster]

I am looking up cyber fashion right now

And I think I finally realize what my nieces mean maybe when they say I do mejo style but not like a particular named style

I just literally cannot stick to a specific style rules unless I'm in costume

#rant #xjdhd like. if im Specifically going to a lolita meetup? yeah ill wear all/mostly lolita #if im just wearing lolita pieces out? ill usually combo with victorian or 1960s style pieces i have or combo with modern stuff #if i wear goth? i will combo with some lighter more like byujaku makeup #but INTENSE like e girl level bright pigment #i tried a fucking Dorian Electra Makeup look and. i just #DO NOT wear foundation unless im getting in xostume or for a photoshoot #so i tried to do drag king contouring and added SO MUCH contour eyeshadow to my face withiut the #foundation underneath making my skin tone level. so i just looked like regular skin but Very Haggard #also i dont know how to contour or do blush for shit. i just #keep making my face look wider #i dress rn kind of 'goth' maybe but also sporty cause i love comfy sweat pants and tshirts #and im gonna be real im moving away from clothes sold to womeb #anything tight or requiring a bra? i dont wear anymore #so im like. GOOGLE now shows me mens harajuku and cyber fashion #when i search stuff. cause it knows thats all im fucking buyjng unless its a cute kawaii rainbow cardigan with hearts #i like the 90s renassaince of clotjes but ppl doing y2k now and 90s grunge now?? #do a hyper perfect version with more makeup and sharp lines and well done hair #whereas in 90s the edges were meant to be fuzzy and hair was meant to look #like you slept in it then woke up grunge #so like. im doing OG grunge my sister did in the 90s. im not doing new Version Instagram mode #and the y2k i emulate isnt the paris hilton tight clothes. no. its the awful clashing. i LOVE IT #give me see thru sandal platforms and shiny silver pants and fun texyures #i love how on purpose awkward some y2k fashion looked back in the day. think britney spears and disney stars like ashley tisdale at awards #think blue eyeshadow and no eyebrows and fried hair with the crimped pieces and braids #the neon colors. THATS what i emulate and miss #and i. do it all fucking at once #im researching fashion styles now but. i already know. i just do not consistently #do 1 thing. or even the thing correctly. unless im specifically being strict for a photoshoot or event

[thecrochetcrowd]

We Want Regular Yarn Contoured Crochet Headband

We Want Regular Yarn Contoured Crochet Headband

DOWNLOAD FREE HEADBAND PATTERN Contoured Medium Weight Headband Crocheters requested a contoured headband that can go over a ball cap or use as normal, featuring 4-ply medium-weight yarn. Mikey took on the challenge, which took about 8 hours to design. This is the Contoured Medium Weight Crochet Headband.  Made for adults with adjusting options, as discussed in the tutorial. Some people prefer…

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#Contoured Headband #crochet headband #Easy Crochet Headband #Headband #Mikey&039;s Design #Red Heart #Roll With It Melange

[mytrasheden]

Totally lost the full YT video to my dismay, but here's the cut

#no #david bowie #isolar ii #backstage #berlin era #that contour #all considered his stage lights were BRIGHT #that went straight to my heart #not shy

[an-asuryampasya]

ah yes, the joys of being too tired to stay up but too worked up to fall asleep

#and my ceiling doesn't even have any fun bumps for me to stare at and map out #so i can't act out my usual joke of learning the contours of my ceiling by heart :( #(that's my go to response when someone asks what I've been up to because it's nicer than admitting i... do nothing of note) #(or at least nothing I'd like to tell them) #anyway i digress #is it essential to go back onto the previous topic after saying i digress? #like does that phrase mean 'anyway i went offtopic welp' #or 'i lost the thread but on circling back..' #because i did go off on a tangent but also didn't really have anything to add to the initial tooic #*topic #okay actually follow up question: if i lose track of the topic and get diverted #say i digress #and then end up switching to a THIRD topic like i accidentally did just now #then am i using the phrase 'i digress' wrong? #mhmmm okay maybe i shoukd just y'know #google it instead of whatever navel gazing this is #on that note I'm not sure i like the phrase 'navel gazing' very much #it's very dismissive and i am very self-important ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #OKAY STOPPING NOW #giving sleep another go wish me luck #placeholder tag

[adiraargent]

In a world full of boys, he's a gentleman <3

Synopsis: the Slytherin boys and the 'gentleman' things they do Warnings: None :) Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Tom Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Jasper Rowle

This is Part 1 :)

Mattheo Riddle: opening doors for you

"Hey there, my love," Mattheo greeted, flashing a grin as he held the door open for you. You rolled your eyes playfully at the endearment, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend.

"Always the gentleman, huh?" you teased, stepping through the door of the Slytherin common room as he held open with a light chuckle.

"Hey, gotta treat my girl right," he replied, trailing behind and falling into step beside you. He nudged you gently with his elbow, his laid-back demeanor effortlessly charming.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. His lips lingered for a moment, and you couldn't help but blush at the tenderness of the gesture. "You're my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

Whether they were heading to class, grabbing a bite to eat, or just strolling through the castle halls, Mattheo made it a point to hold doors open for you. It wasn't a grand gesture, just a simple act of courtesy, but it spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness.

"You spoil me too much, you know that?" you remarked with a grin, as Mattheo held the door of his dorm for you.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can't help it. You deserve the world," he shrugged, following you inside. He wrapped his arms around your waist, playfully throwing you on the bed before snuggling up next to you, holding you tightly against his chest.

Their laughter filled the air as they chatted about anything and everything, discussing everything from stupid things their friends had done recently to their favourite movies. Mattheo listened intently, his eyes lighting up as they shared their stories.

Theodore Nott: Holds your face with both hands when kissing you

"Hey," Theodore greeted softly, his fingers trailing gently along your jawline before cupping your face tenderly, drawing you into a sweet kiss. His touch was always gentle, his palms cradling your cheeks as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

"Hi," you whispered against his lips, smiling as he leaned in to press another soft kiss, his touch grounding and comforting.

"Did you have a good day?" Theodore asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he held your face in his hands.

"Mmm, it was alright. Nothing compared to this though," you replied, your voice softening as he leaned in for another kiss, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cupping your face, his eyes filled with warmth as he gazed at you. "You always make everything better."

"You too," you said, feeling a surge of affection as his touch lingered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

"Can I just kiss you forever?" he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his touch never leaving your face.

"That sounds like a plan," you chuckled, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, grounding you in the moment.

As he leaned in for another kiss, his hands framed your face once more, holding you gently but firmly, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you. Each kiss felt like a silent declaration of his love and care, his hands a constant reassurance that you were cherished.

"Promise me something," he said softly, his gaze intense as he held your face in his hands, his touch so tender it made your heart flutter.

"Anything," you replied, feeling a rush of emotion at the sincerity in his eyes.

"Promise you'll never forget how much you mean to me," he whispered, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin.

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings.

Theodore smiled, his touch becoming even more gentle, as if he was memorizing every contour of your face. "I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling a surge of emotion as his hands cradled your face.

Tom Riddle: Subtle things to make sure you don't get hurt

In the midst of a quiet classroom, Tom and you sat side by side, the ambiance filled with the hushed tones of a lecture. You were unconsciously fiddling with your quill as your tired eyes lingered on the teacher, doing your best to listen to whatever he was saying.

A small sigh slipt from your lips as your dropped your quill, the small object rolling under your desk. As you leaned down to retrieve your quill, Tom subtly shifted, his hand discreetly finding its place at the edge of the desk, ensuring you wouldn't hit your head upon rising.

"Thanks love," you whispered, meeting his eyes for a fleeting moment, noticing the faint blush that graced his cheeks as he quickly looked away.

"Wouldn't want you getting hurt," he murmured, his voice barely audible, trying to cloak his concern with an air of indifference as his eyes went back to the teacher.

"I appreciate it," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips, acknowledging his unspoken worry.

Throughout the class, the subtle ways Tom looked out for you were apparent. Whether adjusting his posture to prevent you from bumping elbows or discreetly sliding a book closer to your reach, his actions spoke louder than his reserved words.

As the lesson progressed, you dropped a parchment, and before you could react, Tom swiftly picked it up without a word, his gaze briefly meeting yours with a hint of concern before retreating into his usual stoic demeanor.

"Thanks," you said, your voice warm with gratitude, feeling the corners of his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile before he composed himself.

"Merlin you're an idiot," he mumbled under his breath, a small smile twitching on the corner of his lips. He loved you, and he did his best to show it. To some, these may just seem like small gestures, but to you, these acts meant everything.

Blaise Zabini: Looking after you while you are sick

"Blaise, I think I'm dying," you groaned, your voice muffled by the mountain of blankets you'd buried yourself under. The room echoed with your misery, and you could practically feel Blaise's amused gaze on you.

"Quite the melodrama you've got going on there," he chuckled, entering the room with a tray in hand.

You peeked out from under the blankets, giving him a weak glare. "This is not melodrama. I'm genuinely dying. I might need to write my will."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Last I checked, you're broke. And if you're going to die, at least wait until you've cleaned up the mess in the bathroom."

You shot him a scowl before returning to your cocoon of misery. "I'll have you know that this is a serious illness. I even got Pansy to get me a book from the library so I can read about my symptoms."

He set the tray on the bedside table, glancing at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "And let me guess, according to Dr. know it all, you have a rare tropical disease only found in the depths of the Amazon rainforest?"

"No, it says I have a severe case of man flu," you deadpanned, voice muffled by the blankets.

Blaise burst into laughter. "Man flu? Really?"

You shot him a glare from under the covers.

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Ok, ok. I come bearing gifts to nurse you back to health."

He lifted the tray to reveal a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea. Your eyes lit up, and you managed to sit up, sniffling pathetically.

"Ah, the healing powers of chicken soup," he declared dramatically, handing you the bowl.

You took it gratefully, inhaling the comforting aroma. "You're the best, you know that?"

"I try," he said with a wink, settling onto the bed beside you. "Now, eat up. We can't have you wasting away on my watch."

As you sipped the soup, Blaise watched you with a soft smile. "Feeling a bit better already?"

You nodded, the warmth of the soup soothing both your throat and your mood. "Maybe I won't die today after all."

He chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "Good to know. I was planning on having a quiet night in, not attending a funeral."

You swatted him playfully, earning a smirk from Blaise. "You're lucky I'm too weak to defend myself properly."

"Consider it a mercy on my part," he teased, taking a sip of his own tea.

As the night wore on, Blaise stayed by your side, occasionally offering more soup, fetching tissues, and regaling you with stories to keep your mind off your misery.

"You're surprisingly good at this whole nurse thing," you admitted, snuggling into the blankets.

He grinned, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Well, when the patient is you, it's almost enjoyable."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I must be really sick for you to admit that."

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe you're just bringing out my softer side."

You sighed dramatically. "I never signed up for a softer Blaise Zabini."

"Too late now," he replied with a smirk, holding you a little tighter. "You're stuck with me, even if I have to nurse you back to health every now and then."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling grateful for the care and comfort he provided. "I suppose I can live with that."

And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in blankets and the warmth of Blaise's presence, you couldn't help but feel that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, especially when you had someone like him to take care of you.

(This is my favourite for sure)

Jasper Rowle: Doing your shoelaces

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow into the room as you and Jasper sat comfortably on a bench in Hogsmede just of to the side of Zonko's, enjoying a leisurely stroll that had turned into a serene moment of shared silence.

"Oops," you pouted, looking down at your untied shoelaces, a small sigh falling from your lips as you went to go and tie your laces.

"I've got it darlin'," Jasper said with a gentle smile, bending down on one knee before her.

"Jasper, you really don't have to," you protested, a faint blush gracing your cheeks at the unexpected gesture.

He shook his head with a grin, his fingers deftly working on your shoelaces. "I've got it, can't have my girl tripping on her own shoelaces, can I?"

You chuckled softly, unable to hide your affectionate smile as you watched him tie the laces with care. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

He glanced up at her with a warm smile. "'Just don't want you getting hurt."

As he finished, he ran his thumb over your knee softly a few times before standing up and placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, causing your heart to flutter. The simple act filled you with warmth and adoration.

"Thank you," you murmured, touched by his gesture.

"Anytime, my love."

Their fingers intertwined as they resumed their stroll through Hogsmede, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of baked goods, more than likely from a stall near by. The world seemed to slow down around them as they walked hand in hand, enjoying each other's company.

Hi all! This is my first post, hope you enjoyed it :) I take requests for many different fandoms and characters <3

#slytherin #slytherin prompts #slytherin boys #slytherin imagines #slytherin x reader #slytherin x yn #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #Tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fluff #Theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #Jasper rowle #jasper rowle fluff #jasper rolwe x reader #Blaise zabini #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini imagine #harry potter imagines #adiraargent #fluff

[lokis-army-77]

Cozy

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

Warning: 18 +. unprotected sex, p n v, breeding kink, kinda innocent reader, soft dom eddie, 1 whore, a bit of hair pulling.

Thank you to those of you who beta read! <3

Masterlist

You wake up in the late morning, sun shining through the blinds, warming your bare body. You can feel the heat radiating from your boyfriend as well. He's awake too. You can tell by how his hips keep pressing into you from behind, still not satisfied even after a night of rolling in the sheets 

Eddie's arm holds you close to him and you feel his lips barely caress the shell of your ear. "Morning baby." He hums. 

You smile sleepily. "Mornin'," you say as you snuggle further back into him.

He grunts. "Don't do that or you'll start something you can't finish."

"I don't know what you’re talkin' 'bout." Your giggles are soft, muffled by the comforter.

Eddie rolls his hips into the curve of your ass. "Oh, I bet you do." He bites at your ear lobe. 

"Eddie stop." You swat your hand behind you at an awkward angle. 

"Stop what?" He asked, rolling his hips again.

This time you can't help but moan. 

You can feel him grinning lazily, his unshaven scruff catching on your hair. 

He's getting harder, his cock is pressing into you and it's impossible to ignore with neither of you having clothes on. 

Eddie slowly moves his hand down your body, fingers contouring to every curve until he ends up between your legs. 

He pries your leg back and hooks it over his own. "You're so wet, baby. I've barely done anything." He says as he runs a thick finger through your folds. 

You shift, sighing when he touches your clit. "Eddie..."

You liked him like this. Liked living in the softness of a late Saturday morning. But you can't lie, you liked it when he was rough too. 

Memories of the night before had you buzzing. Skin on skin, mouth to mouth. You loved when he dominated you but you loved when he was soft and sweet. 

"What is it, sweetheart? What'd ya need?" He asks, finger now circling languidly around your entrance. 

"Mmm, you. Need you." 

"Me? What from me?" He teases.

You just whimper, brain foggy from sleep and his touch.

"Come on, Sweetheart, tell me." His thumb swipes over your clit.

"Please," you breathe. "Need your cock." Your face is flush. He knows how much that word embarrasses you. 

"Is that right? Want me to give you my cock?" His finger dips ever so slightly into you 

"Yes!" Your hands grip the covers when he finally pushes his finger into you fully. 

Eddie takes his fingers away from you and gives your ass a quick smack. He leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Then get in that puppy pose I love so much."

Your legs squeezed shut and your heart fluttered. He could always make the most dirty things sound so innocent. 

Wasting no time you throw off the covers and get onto your knees. Eddie watches you with lust-filled eyes as you slowly put your chest to the mattress, leaving your ass bare and presented. 

With your head resting on the bed, you can only hear and feel Eddie moving behind you. You suck in a deep breath when his large hand grasps your ass cheek. 

"Such a good girl for me." He praises and you keen. You wiggle your hips and he laughs through his nose. "Gonna give you what you want." 

His hands roam over the roundness of your ass, spreading your cheeks even more apart. 

You clench around nothing, waiting as he admires you. 

"Eddie?" You ask.

He hums in response, still staring at how you are spread out for him.

"Need you really bad," you whine. You could only stand so long without him being inside you and patience was starting to wear thin. 

"Okay, okay." He pressed up into you. He's hot, you can feel the heat radiating from him as he pushes his cock through your wet folds. He passes through them a few times before he takes a breath and pushes into you completely.

The angle had him hitting deep within you. His head rubbed against your walls in a way that had you clenching your toes. 

“Fuck,” you moan into the sheets, fingers grasping for anything that could help ground you. 

“That’s it, baby.” Eddie groans. “Pussy’s just squeezin’ me.” He begins to pump in and out of you at a steady pace. “God you’re perfect.” 

You close your eyes and reach your hand behind you. Your fingers come in contact with Eddie’s hip and he slides his own hand from your ass down your back. His touch sends a shiver down your spine. 

A long whine is pulled from you when Eddie fists your hair in his hand, tugging only hard enough for you to feel a small amount of pressure on the back of your head. He moans when you start to rock back into him. “That’s right use my fuckin’ cock.”

He pulls your hair harder and you mewl. “Wanna be closer to you.”

“Okay Sweetheart.” Eddie lets go of your hair and reaches down with both hands to help you up. He pulls your back flush to his chest, it’s sticky with perspiration. He dosen’t stop his efforts, his hips still move, pucnhing into you. 

All you can do is grunt and groan as you feel him fucking into you. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your chest so that he can hold you steady but also grab at your breast. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moan into his ear. “Want- fuck I want-”

“What’s that baby? What do you want?”

You can’t answer, too embarrassed to say but when Eddie gives you a firm smack on the ass, the words come fumbeling past your lips. “Cum inside me. Want you to cum inside me, gimmie- fuck- gimmie- ah!” 

His hips press harder into you. “oh? Want me to fuck you full?” He slaps your ass again. “Hum? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

Those words had you crying, begging for more. You love when he talks like that. When he fucks into you so despretly at the thought of you having his children.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. Such a whore aren't you, Sweetheart? Need everybody to know you’re mine.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie, I’m yours.” You heave. 

Eddie lets you go and you crumble back to the bed. His pace quickens and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. His breathing gets heavier, and you can feel the pleasure building inside you. Your moans get louder and more frequent. 

“Right there!” You cry when he goes deeper. 

“Yeah, baby? Right there? That’s the spot?” 

You nod and he continues to hit just the right place. Your mouth is hanging open, drool pooling on the bed. It feels so good to have him so close. 

In and out, in and out he goes, hips clapping against your ass. Your back arches and you feel yourself coming closer. 

You let your hand fall from behind you to the bed before you bring it between your legs. Your fingers find your clit and begin circling. Another shudder courses through your body and you clench around Eddie. 

“God, fuck baby, don’t do that.” He grunts, thrusts faltering as you squeeze him again. 

“AH! Eddie, please, I'm gonna cum.” You moan. Wetness is dripping down your thighs and hand and onto the sheets. 

“Then cum, sweetheart. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” He tells you, hips snapping into you faster. 

You feel yourself tensing in pleasure before you finally let go, cumming hard. You keen and arch your back, your orgasm crashing through you. Eddie thrusts a few more times before his own orgasm overtakes him and he groans. You both collapse in a heap, breathing heavily. 

When you open an eye to peek at Eddie, he’s already watching you. A smile envelopes you and you hide back in the sheets. 

Eddie tuts, “Let me see that pretty face.” He takes his hand and tries to pull you from your hiding place. “Come on, Sweetheart, show me how beautiful you look.”

You finally peer up at him again and he just beams, cheeks round and eyes scrunched. He leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead before leaving pecks down the bridge of your nose and lastly on your lips. You hum into him. 

“I love you, y’know that?” He asks. 

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” You say sweetly before you are interrupted by a yawn. 

Eddie gives you another tender kiss on the cheek, “Go back to sleep baby, I’ll clean this mess up.” 

“Okay-” you comply, yawning again. Before Eddie can leave and come back with a warm cloth, you are already fast asleep. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader

[76l0]

i love seeing homestuck girlies on my dash its like. we could go to the homestuck meetup. in uhh my heart

#my heart is a fish out of wwater................. this is my united states of wwhatevver #is it ironic that homestuck is what made me wear makeup tho #learned about contouring... to paint my face grey #:\ #heh i have no regrets tho. not even my first vriska horns which were made out of duct tape. i did everything i could #well im not talking about cosplay quality there........... ha ha ha ha ha shoot me #FIX ME IN 45

[vipetas]

i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered. 

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious. 

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #part 2?

[chocopokkie]

Alastor x Fem! Reader Getting Caught in the Act NSFW

It was one of those rare moments when you and Alastor found yourselves alone in the bustling chaos of the Hotel. Amidst fulfilling various requests for Charlie, Vaggie, and other residents, you two managed to steal away into Alastor's room. As the door closed behind you, a hush settled over the room, filled only with the crackling of distant fires and the occasional echo of laughter from the lobby.

In the dim light filtering through the curtains, Alastor's crimson eyes gleamed with a playful spark as he moved on top of you on his bed, his presence casting a captivating aura around him. You felt the weight of his gaze as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.

"Oh, my sweet doe," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your skin. "It seems I've been neglecting you. However, can I make it up to you?" His breath danced across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned in, his hands lightly restraining yours, pinning them down on either side of your head.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze, the intensity of his stare igniting a fierce longing within you. "Alastor," you breathed, the sound barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Just being here with you is enough."

But he shook his head, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear. I intend to spoil you thoroughly," he replied, his voice low and husky with promise. "Tell me, what is it that you desire?" His lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in his gaze as he awaited your response.

"I want you..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't think I heard you!" Alastor teased, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of mischief. "I can't give you what you want unless you properly tell me." Crimson eyes dancing with amusement as he awaited your response, his hands still gently holding yours in place, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.

"Please... I want y-you!" you say, your voice now laced with more confidence, the words spilling forth from your lips with a newfound determination.

"There we go! Now, was that so hard?" Alastor chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he savored your response.

You roll your eyes at his condescending tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with defiance. But before you can retort, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch, the heat of his embrace enveloping you in a blissful haze.

His hands leave yours and roam around your body, tracing every curve and contour with a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. There's an urgency in his movements, a hunger that matches your own, as he explores every inch of your being with a reverence that leaves you breathless. His burning touch sets your body ablaze with a newfound arousal you hadn't felt in a while, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and restraint. Each caress, each whispered promise, only serves to fuel the flames of desire that rage between you.

Alastor wastes no time in removing your clothes, his movements swift, as if he had been longing for this moment as much as you. "Oh, little fawn, you're so perfect," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of appreciation as he admires your naked form, his intense gaze tracing every curve and contour with a hunger that sets your skin ablaze. You feel exposed beneath his penetrating stare, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

His hands reach lower to your nether regions, his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin as he slides a finger over your folds, already sopping wet with anticipation. "My, my dear, already this wet for me?" he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal as he revels in the sight before him.

"Shut-shut up," you retort breathlessly, your words barely coherent as desire clouds your mind and steals your breath away. But any further protest is lost as he dips a finger inside of you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. With agonizing slowness, he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, each movement deliberate and measured, drawing out the exquisite torture of anticipation.

"How rude you are, maybe I should stop?" he threatens darkly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his smile widens, teasing you with the prospect of withholding his touch.

"NO! Okay, I'm sorry!" you say loudly, desperation lacing your voice as you realize the gravity of your words. Panic floods your senses as he removes his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you achingly empty, the absence of his touch a cruel reminder of the pleasure denied.

"Alright then, let me hear you then," he says absentmindedly, his fingers deftly unzipping his pants before pulling out his hard cock, the sight leaving you breathless with anticipation.

"Huh? Hear what?" you reply, a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of your stomach as you pray that he wouldn't say what you think he's going to say.

"Beg for it, my dear," he states firmly, his voice laced with expectation as he gazes down at you, waiting for your response. "I need to hear you beg before I give you anything." The challenge in his eyes sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingled with a sense of vulnerability as you contemplate what he's asking of you.

"P-please.." you mumble quietly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you struggle to voice your desires.

"Please what?" he quips back in a teasing tone, his gaze lingering on you expectantly. "Say it properly or you get nothing."

"Please, Alastor, I need you to fuck me," you finally manage to articulate, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.

Finally hearing what he wanted, Alastor lets out a low chuckle, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "That's my good girl~" he purrs, his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Before you can fully comprehend his words, he moves driving himself into you with a sharp thrust that steals the breath from your lungs, plunging you into a whirlwind of ecstasy and desire.

"That's it, that's my good girl taking me so well~," he mutters, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he continues to thrust in and out of you with a delicious pace, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

With each powerful thrust, he delves deeper, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic dance of desire that threatens to consume you both. You cling to him desperately, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning, and in strides Vaggie, "Alastor, Charlie needs your help with- OH WHAT THE FUCK," she exclaims, her voice trailing off as her eyes widen in disbelief at the sight before her.

"I-I, we uh," you stammer, desperately trying to find the right words to explain yourselves, but before you can utter another syllable, Alastor beats you to it. "Don't you know it's rude to enter without permission?" he growls menacingly, his crimson eyes flashing with irritation as an ominous red "X" appears on his forehead.

As quick as Vaggie had interrupted, she was gone, swallowed up by black tendrils that wrapped around her, pulling her out of the room with a forceful yank and slamming the door shut with a resounding bang, the lock clicking into place.

"Now, where were we~" Alastor purrs, his gaze shifting back to you with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins, the interruption only serving to heighten the intensity of the moment.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #fanfic #short story #smut #hazbin hotel smut #lemon #alastor smut

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

”why are you so good at that?”

his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin. 

suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away. 

and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh. 

”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”

he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh. senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood.

and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.

he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does — so weak to you, always, your voice a key to his locked-up heart.

”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing his facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.” 

a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless. 

”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”

it’s not the first you’ve heard of him. suguru’s mentioned this best friend before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do, though; because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer. 

that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good. it is practiced — he’s used to soothing other people’s headaches. should you feel jealous?

well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.

before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.

”you must have loved him a lot.”

…

silence.

for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt their movement. just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room — even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen. 

it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.

a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.

you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid. 

stupid, stupid, stupid.

(why can’t you ever just read the room?)

blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.

— but then suguru breaks it.

”yeah.”

when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.

”i suppose i did.”

…

you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.

just longing.

suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.

and then he’s looking at you. 

”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”

before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.

”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”

all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.

the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.

somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.

”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”

he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.

”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”

the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.

he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk fluff #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader