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azrielhours · 2 months

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Captured

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2018

Synopsis: The camera has been invented and Azriel takes up a hobby of capturing reader, proving how pretty she can be.

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“What is it?”

“An obscura camera, I think we called it.” You turned the device around for him to see the little hole to look through, let him hold it. “It means ‘dark room.’ Light travels in through here,” you pointed to the lens, “and an image is captured using refraction and shadows.”

Azriel frowned in disbelief, making you laugh.

“Watch,” you said, gently taking the Obscura from his hands.

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing,” you smiled, positioning it before your face. “Smile for me.”

He gave a small, tentative smile. The distrust in his eyes had you laughing again, which made Azriel chuckle genuinely.

You clicked something. A shutter sounded, light flashed, and Azriel’s eyes widened. You pulled the obscura away as it rattled, producing a thin strip of rectangular film. Azriel’s frown returned. “It’s black.”

“It has to develop,” you plucked it away and placed it facedown. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

“This is what you’d been working on with Nuan?” he asked, referring to the alchemist who’d been in town for a few weeks.

You nodded. “It’s an early prototype, but it mimics the way light enters the eye.” A mixture of her trinketry, your crafty impulses, and some magic. “All this work so we can finally capture your pretty face,” you teased, enjoying the pink dusting his cheeks. You turned the piece of film to him, relishing Azriel’s shock upon peering down at the photograph.

That sincere smile you’d managed to capture was how you often caught him looking at you. A sweet, receptive earnestness lighting his normally cold face. Eyes that beheld you like he missed you even when you hadn’t gone anywhere. Now etched permanently into a photograph for you to cherish.

It was your turn to blush. Playful words aside, this truly did catch his beauty.

He met your gaze. “Teach me how to use it.” You demonstrated, pointing to shoot the nearby bookshelf, but Azriel shook his head. “I want one like that,” he nodded to his headshot.

Your nose crinkled. “I don’t photograph well, Az.”

He scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you?” He positioned the obscura over his eyes like you had.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding. “I don’t like the posing.”

“Come on,” he cooed, laughing. He reached to move your hair where it fell forward as you ducked your head, then gently held your wrists beneath your chin, broad hand easily cradling them between a thumb and two fingers. He tilted your face up with his hold. You peered at him through your fingers, rosy cheeks peeking through digits. Still holding your wrists, he took the photo effortlessly.

You uncovered your face, still blushing. He wondered how you didn’t see what a perfect subject you’d be. How you could invent the obscura and deprive him of its most obvious benefit.

Azriel studied you, and you saw the gears turn in his head. “Can I borrow it for a while?"

You laughed. “Okay, Az.”

It started off rather clumsy, and it took a few tries for Azriel to figure out that lighting mattered. That snapping photos with light in the immediate background ruined the film. He tested his hypothesis by capturing a bewildered Cassian, the confusion frozen making Azriel chuckle. He understood why you’d been laughing at him before. Next, he found that distance was important; that he could shift the angle of his photography. A practice shot of Feyre losing herself in a painting, so focused that she didn’t turn to wonder about the shuttering sound. Rhys landing on a balcony after training. Nesta reading ferociously by the fire.

He got the hang of it and was ready to really begin.

I don’t like the posing, you’d told him. He had no issues with that whatsoever.

The first one happened in the kitchen. The early morning hours were typically shared by the both of you on the grounds of a close friendship. You’d been sipping on coffee like it was medicinal, the light of the sun softening everything. Eyes closed, hair still slightly undone from sleep. He loved seeing you in your fancy dresses, your fighting leathers, but something about seeing you in soft, utterly personal nightwear—linen pants, knit cardigans, slippers—it spread warmth through his chest brighter than your revered sunrise. Today he'd even caught you in his t-shirt you must’ve swiped. Carefully positioning the Obscura over his face where he stood at the doorway, he snapped his photo before inconspicuously joining you, inquiring about the theft he quietly adored. Adoring your answering smile even more.

The next shot was on the rooftop. He’d caught Cassian bandaging you up after sparring. You were sat on the bench, smiling bloody and beautiful. Laughing as Cassian cracked jokes, allowing him to tend to you. He was kneeling on the ground before you, cleaning the cuts on your brow, wrapping your bruised knuckles. The sheer glee in your laugh, the way you sat so comfortably with his brother had Azriel reaching into the pocket realm for the Obscura, capturing the sight of his favourite people bantering fresh out of the ring.

One night after Rita’s, Rhys had offered to fly you home after winning a drinking game against Azriel. He’d winked at the bested Shadowsinger, taking you into his arms and shooting to the sky. Azriel grumbled at first until he’d realized the opportunity he had mid-flight with Rhys ahead. You reached to the skies above, stretching like you could grab the very moon, safe in the High Lord’s arms. He wished the Obscura had the power to capture the sound of your laughter as well, but he’d gladly settle for your silhouette marked by the Night Court stars, their beauty dimmed in the face of your exquisite joy.

The next photo was stolen after a Hewn City mission. You’d been in a billowing dark gown, face so ethereal, so striking and utterly beautiful that he’d struggled to look at you face-on. Everyone had taken to sprawling on the couches after coming home, still in formal attire, helping themselves to drinks as they winded down. You’d fallen asleep at some point, stretched comfortably across the sofa with your head nearly hanging off, hair cascading around you like a halo and down the sofa to the ground. Feyre mentioned wishing she could paint the sight of you, sleeping like some spite or nymph, some woodland creature of beauty, your dress ballooning around you like a nightshade flower. Azriel silently pulled out the Obscura, taking his time levelling the device so the light of the hearth illuminated your face.

“What is that thing you keep doing?” Cassian asked lowly.

Azriel focused, capturing the shot. Taking another one just for good measure. “Nothing.”

His favourite photo was of you and Nyx. You’d been playing with the boy on the balcony, blowing bubbles as he tried dutifully to pop them. They’d land and settle in his hair, making you laugh boisterously, head tipping back as Nyx laughed with you unwittingly. It was like the sun loved you, how it always shone upon you, doing the work for Azriel. He took the photo, falling into the easy routine. Once that photo developed, his heart skipped a beat at its sight. At the promise it captured that he wished was his.

He was a lucky bastard to have this gift—a device that finally allowed him to freeze the light that you were in his life, to etch the sights he so sincerely loved. God, you were special. Azriel had to walk away from the balcony, still staring at the little strip of film, more invaluable than precious jewel. How lucky he was to witness you. Luckier still to capture you in still frames, while you unknowingly captured his heart.

Azriel found you in your room, sitting at your vanity. He handed the obscura to you. “There’s no more film.”

You laughed. “Wow. How many photos did you take?”

He shrugged, smiling roguishly. “A handful.”

“Can I see?”

He handed a few.

You rifled through them, gasping at the quality. “These are amazing.” He’d captured Feyre descending the stairs in her regalia, beautiful like a divinity of legend. Nesta pouting playfully, glaring right at the camera. Mor putting earrings in before an outing. “Their mates would love these,” you murmured.

“They would,” he agreed.

You shook your head, stunned. “God, they’re beautiful.” Azriel didn’t know if you meant the photos or who he captured in them. “I wish I photographed this good.”

He would’ve laughed at the absurdity if he could resist his scoff of disbelief. “You do.”

You just shook your head, sneaking a quick glance at yourself in the mirror before eyeing the photos again.

Azriel’s heart stuttered. “You do,” he repeated. “I—” he reached into the pocket realm. “I took some of you as well.” Handing over a few photos, he watched closely as your eyes widened. You took your time studying each photo, brows pinched. He didn’t know if it was in dislike, or—

“Wow,” you breathed. You met his gaze. The fragility in them told him it was awe. “Azriel,” you breathed again, assessing the shots. “Wow. You make me look…”

You faded to silence. “What,” he gently nudged you.

“Pretty.”

He tried to speak. A breath puffed out of him. “Y/n,” he couldn’t stop the reverence in his tone. “You’re beautiful. What do you mean?” He didn’t care how it came off, how saying it warmed his cheeks.

He’d only pulled out a few of the tamer photos. The ones of you with his family or in mundane solitude. He immediately pulled out the rest, laying them before you. The pinch deepened between your brows, looking at the one of you after Hewn City. “Oh my god,” you breathed. You had no idea you could look so… “beautiful.”

“Yes,” Azriel nodded. “Beautiful.” He pointed to the one of you in the kitchen, freshly woken up. “Here as well.” Always.

You took your time studying them, unable to find it in you to care about how stupidly vulnerable this struck you. Too busy grappling with the comfort of feeling this seen. You finally met his gaze, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that look in his eyes was…

If you were well and truly self-indulgent, you may have called it how you felt inside.

Azriel wished he had just one more piece of film to capture the look on your face. The depth of fondness in your eyes, like he was worth seeing. His heart stuttered again, holding that stare like he could pour his affection directly from his eyes to yours.

“Will you be keeping these?” you asked about the photos.

Azriel chuckled. “Yes. Try taking even one away.”

Oh.

You blushed, breaking his stare. A fine line to toe with your friend indeed.

But Azriel enjoyed that conviction on your face when you saw yourself as he did. “Okay,” he let up, exhaling in mock annoyance. “You can have a few.” He took most of the photos back, making sure to leave you with a copy of the Hewn City one. “I mean, I can always take more.”

You laughed, standing to retrieve your satchel, pulling out spare film. You showed Azriel how to load it in, but before handing the Obscura back, you eyed the first photo he’d taken, with his hands holding your wrists. “I want one like that,” you said, reaching for his face.

He laughed but didn’t bat your hand away, to your pleasant surprise. Only standing firm, albeit leaving his face uncovered. You cradled his face gently by the chin in one hand, resting your fingers on his cheeks, barely pressing. He smiled warmly at you, looking right through the camera at you. You captured him.

“There,” you handed back the obscura. “Now I got you,” you held up his matching photo.

He liked the sound of that. “I have you too,” he raised his collection of your photos in his hand in reminder. “And I’ll be keeping you with me.”

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eveningepiphany · 11 months

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tease | H.S oneshot

summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing

a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!

———

Some days at work are harder than others for you.

Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.

And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.

But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.

It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.

“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.

Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.

You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.

“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”

Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.

“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.

“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.

You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.

“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”

“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”

And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.

He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.

As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.

Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…

His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.

Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.

You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”

Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”

You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.

You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.

“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.

“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.

“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.

She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.

You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.

“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”

She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”

You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”

You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.

“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.

In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.

You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.

Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.

He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.

You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.

Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.

You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.

Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.

You smile at yourself and at your work.

And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.

Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.

And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.

You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.

He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.

He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…

Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.

Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.

You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.

You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.

Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.

Just not aware you’re one of them…

Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.

After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.

Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.

The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.

It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?

Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.

You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.

Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.

You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?

He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.

“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.

He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.

“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.

So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.

“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.

Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.

You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”

You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.

He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.

You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.

You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?

“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.

“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.

“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.

Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.

You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.

“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.

He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.

“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”

“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.

“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.

“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.

You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.

You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”

“Very…?”

“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.

“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.

“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.

You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.

“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.

“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.

“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.

“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.

“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.

You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.

“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.

“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.

“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.

I didn’t work.

“So everyone including you?” He asked.

“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.

“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.

“Had you a little worked up, did I?”

“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.

“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.

“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.

Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.

“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”

He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.

“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.

“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.

“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”

Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.

“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”

“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”

He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.

“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”

“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.

He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”

“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.

“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.

Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.

You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.

“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.

He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.

He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.

“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.

His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.

“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.

He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.

He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”

You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.

“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.

You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”

He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.

“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”

You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.

He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”

“Too long.” You whimper.

His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.

You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.

“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”

“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.

You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole

He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.

Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.

“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.

“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”

“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.

Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.

“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.

“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.

He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.

The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.

Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.

“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.

He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.

He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”

It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.

He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.

It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.

He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.

Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.

You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”

“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.

“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.

It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.

You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.

You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.

All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.

That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.

His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.

“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”

You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.

And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.

His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.

“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.

“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”

“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.

“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”

You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.

“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.

“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.

And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.

———

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles barcelona #he is so fucking hot I cant #that clip 🧎‍♀️#smut

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lis-likes-fics · 6 months

Text

It's Gonna Be a Scream!

Pairings: Stu Macher x Reader Word Count: 3.7 words Kink: Erotic Photos Warnings: NSFW, smut, erotic photography, swearing, fingering, oral (f and m! receiving), multilple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, sadistic and masochistic tendencies, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation kink... A/N: This is a day late but I got it done! I hope you enjoy and thank you so much! Feel free to add yourself onto the taglist for message me to be added! Link posted below.

You shake your head as another click fills the room. You ignore him and readjust your position in bed, laying on your belly with your papers splayed before you. Your boyfriend looks at you through his brand new camera, which you'd gotten him for Christmas. He's been prancing around you all day, taking all the pictures of you while he giggles and tells you to “smile all pretty for me”.

“Stu, baby,” you sigh when he lies down on his back in front of you, laying on top of your homework and effectively halting your studies. “I'm trying to focus.” You can't help the chuckle he pulls out of you when he flashes you an adorable grin.

He reaches underneath him and pulls out all of your work, glancing at it before tossing it into the air and letting it fall to the floor. You ignore it. “Well, you shouldn't be. It's Christmas, and you're sitting here doing homework. You're boring.” He says this as he gently pokes his finger into your shoulder, moving to hook his finger around the dainty golden chain of your new necklace. It was his gift to you, it had both your initials on a tiny little heart. It sat along your collarbone, cold and pleasant against your skin.

“Stu,” you try to complain. “Let me finish this last bit, and we can watch a movie or something. Whatever you want.”

He points his finger at your face, not moving when you lean forward and bite the tip of it gently. “Don't say that,” he laughs, “Or you'll be watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

You scoff, “Again? You'd think you would get tired of it by now.”

He flashes a wide smile, “Never, baby.”

You make a sound of disgust, shoving him out of your face so he rolls over onto the floor. He lets go of the camera to keep it on the bed as he lands with a thud.

“Ow,” he complains, sitting up on his knees and looking up at you from the floor. He leans forward, his lips pressing to yours as you smile and suck on his bottom lip. You giggle against his mouth when your teeth take his lip between them. He just kisses you back, a little rougher as he growls playfully against you—he's just being weird.

You hear the click again and pull back to see him taking a picture of you kissing. “You're insufferable.”

“Shh-t-t-t,” he smiles, kissing you again as he takes your face in his hands. You melt against his lips, your lips parted as his tongue slips between them. His hands press to your shoulders and he rolls you onto your back.

Shifting up, he stands above you as he continues to hold your face, his lips mashing with yours. He pulls away, grabbing his camera again. He aims the lens at you, and you roll your eyes, chuckling lightly.

“Smile for me, baby,” he grins, lining his shot.

With a sigh, you look at the camera and smile softly. He licks his lip, clicking the shutter button. “Make it sexier,” he says.

You scoff, parting your lips and letting your lashes flutter, your eyes hooded. He shakes his head in disbelief of you and your beauty, taking more pictures and requesting “sexier, sexier, sexier” each time.

“I don't know what you want me to do, Stu,” you say, removing one hand from the dip of your thigh and the other from your partially exposed collarbone.

“Well, you're doing perfectly,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, grabbing at his body until he ends over and kisses you again. His lips slide off yours and up to your neck, his teeth nibbling at the skin as his fingers play with your shirt. After a moment, he bares his teeth around your throat and bites down, just out the pure impulse to do so. You moan at the feeling tangling your fingers in his hair. He continues kissing you, laving his tongue hungrily over your flesh as he slowly pulls at your shirt. When he's got it off, he admires your covered breasts with his hands and your breath shudders at the feeling of it.

He doesn't bother trying to undo it from the back. He wraps his fingers around the bottom and pulls it over your head. His tongue traces down the valley of your chest and licks up to one of your nipples, taking it between his lips and flicking it.

“Stu,” you breathe, inhaling the scent of his cologne as he body leans over you.

He seems to be enjoying himself by the way he hums around your nipples, playing with one as he savors the other. You feel slick gathering between your thighs as you lay there, your fingertips brushing over his body.

His hand wanders from your breast and smooths down your tummy, down to the waistband of your tiny shorts, that he simply slips underneath as he presses his hand to your mound. Your hips pump forward slightly, a slight moan getting caught in your throat as he smiles around your nipple.

He separates from your breasts to get a good look at you, untying the strings around your waist and peeling the shorts off your body. Biting his lip at your lacey red panties, he shudders at the sight of them. After a brief pause, you hear his camera sound.

“Stu!” you exclaim, your words breathy with a laugh. You smack his sides, pinching them for more effectiveness.

He squirms, laughing, “Ow—Hey! I can't help it if you're so cute!”

“Ugh!”

He giggles like a child as he pulls down your panties to show your smooth little pussy. “Well, Merry Christmas to me.” He bites his lip. “Is this all for me?”Another camera shutter, you shudder. “God, you're fucking beautiful, baby.”

Your hips jerk when his fingers rub along the seam of you, collecting the arousal that had gathered there. You stifle a moan when you hear his lips smack softly after his fingers leave you. “You taste so good,” he hums, tracing your entrance again before pushing in. You hum as his fingers part your lips, starting out with two long slender fingers that already stretch you out real nice.

You moan his name, slipping your hands under his shirt, which drapes over your face as you feel his body leaning over your own. You lean forward just enough to kiss his lower belly, clenching around his fingers as they massage that part inside of you he knows drives you crazy.

He takes another picture, and you suck his fingers in with your insecurity. His thumb presses to your clit. You grip his waist a little tighter, pulling body down just enough to kiss his belly again.

After a moment, he breaks from you, standing back up to tower over you. You take his belt, keeping him closer as you start unbuckling it, effectively sidetracking him as you start pulling them down his legs.

He stares at you as he pulls the camera up to you. As his cock springs free and you press your lips to his pelvis, his warm length against your cheek. “Just like that, baby,” he smiles, a red light glowing from the camera as he records you. “Just like that.”

You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping him a few times as he sighs, a bead of precum leaking from the slit as you bring his tip to your lips to lick it off. You lave your tongue against the head, sucking him into your mouth with a little hum.

He presses his hips forward slowly, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of your tongue and taunting your gag reflex. His hand squeezes your breast, smacking it lightly as you suckle around him.

He smooths his hand up your chest until it settles it around your throat, slowly pulling out to the tip before pushing back into your mouth until his balls press against your nose. You gag lightly as he slots into your throat, a huff leaving his chest as he feels himself bulging in your throat under his palm.

“Suck on it, sweetheart. There ya go,” he encourages, pulling out and pumping back in again. He builds a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of your throat as he slowly quickens his speed. But he doesn't do too much, saving himself as he enjoys the view of you taking his cock down your throat, the camera capturing every moment for him to relive the moment whenever he likes.

Your hand is settled between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit. You gag sometimes when he does a little too deep, but you're so used to him by now that it's not a problem as you moan when you have breath to.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hard and hot at the feeling of your tight throat. “Good girl.”

When you suck around him, his hips jerk slightly before he's lingering somewhere in the back of your throat and pulling out. You take in a deep breath, placing a hand on his hip to keep him back.

“Beautiful, babe,” he praises, taking his cock in his hand and pumping it a few times before he squeezes the base with a groan.

You scoot yourself more onto the bed as you lay there, catching your breath as he pans the camera closer to your face. His smile is wider now, a sinister undertone to his as he captures your wet lips covered with precum and saliva, your lust blown eyes blinking away the tears on the sides of your face. “Absolutely beautiful.”

He ends the recording, leaning down to kiss your sloppy face before he rounds the bed to join you. He sits across from you, taking your hips in his hands, bending down to kiss your chest. His lips slide against your skin until he's reached your belly, his tongue licking at your slit before he wraps his mouth around you and starts licking into your pussy.

You grip the sheets, clenching your thighs lightly around his head. You lay your head back, your lashes fluttering as you breathe. His tongue plunges between your folds, licking into you as making you squirm.

You roll your head back, grinding your hips into his face. As you spit his camera on the bed, you take in between your hands and examine the equipment. “How do I do it?” you ask between breaths.

He looks up at you and smiles. “That button to record, that one to take a picture.”

Tentatively, you press the record button as you look at the feed it shows you. He smiles and digs back in, his tongue flicking and suckling at your clit. You moan as he does it. He's too good with his tongue.

After a moment, he thrusts two fingers into you and looks at you, your face blocked by the camera. “You like that?”

You nod, “Yeah.” His fingers brush deeply inside of you, and you whimper a little at the feeling.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he laughs. “Nasty slut.” He sticks his tongue out to his chin to lick a long stripe up your cunt, closing his mouth around you at the end of it. Your hips jerk as he hums his laugh against you.

He seems to thrive under the shot of the camera, his drama increasing to over-exaggerate the process, but you don't mind. You watch him, lust-stricken as you hold the camera up with shaky hands. His fingers pump into you, his tongue licks at you, his lips suck on your clit. Your back arches and your stifled moans become a little looser as your need to cum slowly builds within you, his mouth bringing it closer as he gives you a perfect view.

You reach one hand down to his hair, combing your fingers through it before you grip lightly at a particular pump of his fingers. Your lips part as your breath becomes unsteady. “Baby, fuck—I'm gonna cum.”

He hums, sing-songy as he keeps sucking on your clit, pressing his fingers deeper and curling them just right. "Please, I’m gonna cum, Stu."

He coaxes you closer and closer, playing you like an expert. A knot builds in the pit of your stomach and you tense as the impending release hangs over your head. When the coil snaps and you're overcome with the bliss it brings, you moan breathily and shudder. Stu smiles at the way you suck his fingers in. He continues fingering and licking at your pussy as you gush around him, easing you through your orgasm. You chant his name under your breath, riding out your high against his face with an insistence he adores.

“Good girl,” he eases you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your and admiring the result of his work. He stares directly into the lens as he places his fingers on his tongue and sucks.

You catch your breath as you come down from your high, lazily ending the video. He takes the camera from you, snapping pictures of your disheveled face as he pulls you by your hips onto his lap as you lay back.

His hands stroke the length of your sides, and you grab his wrists to stroke them. He smiles at you, standing on his knees and planting his fists into the bed next to your head. He kisses your lips softly and flips you onto your stomach. He grasps your hips roughly, pulling you up to your knees and pressing you back against him to feel his erection against your cheeks. You moan lightly, pressing your back and grinding your ass against him.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsks, smacking your ass harshly and moaning at the sharp sound of his hand on your skin. “Be good for me, sweetheart.”

Stu pumps his cock in one hand, picking up his camera again as he pans the lens up and down the length of your back, the dip of your spine caressed by his fingers as he traces it. You shudder, holding yourself up carefully as you do.

He takes his cock, pressing his tip between your folds and pushing his hips into you, inch by inch as he fills you slowly to the brim with him. Your eyes flutter and you moan deeply as his thick, hot length thrusts inside.

Stu groans, grinding his own hips into you once he's fully seated inside, making sure he got every second of it on film. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Fucking perfect for me”

You let your head fall onto your crossed arms. Stu presses his hands to your back, holding you down as he pulls out to the tip, only to split you open once more on his cock. You let out a breathy moan, letting the pleasure blossom within you. You clench around him, sucking him in as he takes you from behind.

You whimper his name. He doesn't bother going slow on you. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back up so he can fuck you nice and deep. He holds the camera as steady as he can as his hair travels to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat so he can move your hips to meet each thrust.

His rhythm is rough and fast. He snaps into you, your body bouncing with each in and out of his cock. Your clit throbs between your legs, and your arousal is dripping down your thighs with each thrust. “S-Stu,” you moan breathlessly. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, giving you a rougher thrust just to pull another moan out of you. “You like when I fuck you like this?” He laughs, tightening his hand around your throat. “Of course you do. You're a good little whore, aren't you?”

You just nod, appreciating his hand around your throat. It's tight and your breath is thinner going through to your lungs, but your clit throbs and your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest at the sensation.

Stu pans the camera down to your ass, where his cock disappears and reappears with each thrust. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You're fucking suckin’ me into you.”

He ruts into you, splitting you apart on his cock as he drives it in and out of your dripping cunt. He fills you with a mind-numbing pleasure that throws you in a daze as you take it all. You squeeze his cock as your legs tremble, sucking him in each deeper as the slap of his hips becomes louder with your slick building up.

All too quickly he pulls out. He pushes you onto your back with little regard to gentleness. You haven't caught up yet by the time he's pulling your hips closer and shoving his cock back inside.

You stare at the camera as he directs it at your face, fucked out as you moan so nicely for him. It captures your bouncing tits, the pumping of his cock into your tight pussy. Every nerve ending burns with pleasure. Every movement licks at you like the flickers of a fire. You clench around him as he presses himself deeply within you, moaning his name at the feeling of his hips fucking into yours.

Stu’s lips part as he watches you, his head falling back as he moans before looking back at you again, hungry at the sight of your body. He loves your body. Your skin is soft and malleable. He bets that if he pressed a silver blade to your flesh, it would slice so nicely. He'd watch the red slip from the wound and decorate your pretty skin.

He wouldn't hurt you too bad. No, against his better judgment, he loved you too much. And, besides, he's got you wrapped around his finger just as much as you've got him around yours.

By now you'd invite the pain. If he took a belt to your back, you would cum when he beat welts into your skin. If he put a knife to your throat, you'd bare your neck to him and tell him to do it. Even now, as his hands slots around your throat once more and squeezes, you huff a moan and squeeze around his cock.

“Look at the camera, baby,” he breathes, moving his thumb from your neck to give you air to speak. He doesn't stop, still fucking into you just as roughly. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.” You whimper. “Go on, tell him. Who's the only person who can make you feel this nice, babygirl?”

You reach a hand to his waist as he leans in to get a better view of your face. Stringing words together to create a coherent sentence, you speak, “Y-you. Fuck, only you, Stu.”

“Say it again, baby.”

His finger presses to your clit and you lose breath when it does, moaning a little louder as he massages it to coax you to a release. “F-Fuck. Only you can…make me f-feel so good, Stu.”

He smiles wide, rubbing your clit a little faster as a reward. “Good girl,” he praises. “You wanna cum for me?”

You nod desperately. “Yes! Fuck, yes.”

His grin widens, his thrusts getting sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his release. He curses under his breath, “Come on, babygirl. Cum for me.”

The coil snaps as you do, throwing your head back as you're blinded by the pleasure. “Stu!” you exclaim, moaning loudly as you cum, sucking him in with each flutter of your pussy.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he rambles, joining you as he's pushed over the edge of ecstasy. He cums with a loud groan, shoving his cock inside of you as he paints your walls white. You milk him, taking everything he gives to you as the pleasure builds inside of you like a heavy crescendo.

You trembled and moaned as he spills inside of you with a rough thrust deep inside you, tiny little ones following after to fuck his cum a little deeper. Stu leans forward and smacks his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he moans deeply. You wrap your heavy arms around his neck to keep him there, lazily kissing him with just as much passion, both of you forgetting the camera laying forgotten on the bed, the lens still pointed at your sloppy kiss.

You bite his bottom lip, taking it between your teeth and digging them inside until you draw blood. He swears he could've cum again as you keep kissing him, sucking on his lip as you do.

He grinds lazily inside of you as the last few sparks of pleasure dot your skin. Stu smiles against your lips, pulling back as he giggles. “I love you, sweetheart.”

You smile, his joy contagious as you join his little giggle. “I love you, too.” You kiss him again, addicted to the taste of him.

Pulling back again, he stares at your face and nods to himself. “I'm keeping you forever.”

And he will. Because ever since he fell in love with you, he's been shaping you to be like him. And, by the time September rolls around next year, you'll be just as fucked up as him that Billy will have to let him keep you. You'll be his forever, and you'll be perfectly happy with that because you love him just as much.

He pulls out of you with a sigh, and you whine at the empty feeling that sprouts in your belly. He picks up the camera again and makes sure to capture every inch of you: the light sheen of sweat on your skin, the mess of your hair, the wetness of your swollen lips, the hickeys he had worked into your skin, the swell of your breasts, the cum stuffed in your dripping pussy, his claim marked in you forever. He briefly wonders if he should carve his initials into your skin.

He smiles wide, pointing the camera at your face again. “We're gonna make so many movies together,” he prides, bending down to kiss you once more. With his excitement simmering in his chest, he chuckles quietly. “It's gonna be a scream, baby!”

Stu Macher taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

#stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher x reader smut #ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanficiton #10 days of smutmas

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silovsmenot · 20 days

Text

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs

SUMMARY: A first meeting with a certain Latvian goalie, a surprise that leaves him thinking of you ... And an unexpected reunion thanks to injury. WARNINGS: So much fluff, poor Latvian language - if you're a Latvian native, please excuse me, I'm still learning. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: This was the very first idea that I had, and it's been a brainrot ever since. This could very easily be a multi-part, because the brainrot is real. Okay so little Latvian lesson: 'sveiki' is an informal form of hello and 'piedodiet' is sorry. WORD COUNT: 2147 FIND PART TWO HERE

New job, new city — you were beyond excited to get started with your new life in Vancouver. It was a dream come true, a sports photographer for the Vancouver Sun. You’d be covering everything from soccer to basketball, and your personal favourite, ice hockey. It couldn’t have been better.

It had only been a few weeks and you were still pretty starstruck by the whole situation. The smile had rarely left your lips for everything felt so right. As you drove to the Abbotsford Centre, your music turned to loud as you sang along to your favourite song — life was good. And today promised to be another good day. You were helping to cover a story of the Vancouver prospects in Abbotsford and how they were developing within the AHL affiliate, while your partner would be interviewing players at the rink side and in changing rooms, you’d be snapping the shots of the training session.

It promised to be a lot easier than your usual days, training sessions were a lot more relaxed than game photography. Even with their game against playoff rivals looming, you knew it would be a calmer atmosphere than the alternative.

With the heavy camera bag upon your shoulders, digits scraped back your hair as you walked, tied back as you always did while working. Nodding across to your partner who stood waiting at the large rink doors, he held out a coffee to you, which you gratefully accepted with a quiet ‘thank you’. You two were close, like siblings — natural partners and you always delivered high tier work together.

“The boss wants some focus on the goalies, see what you can do, y/n.” He muttered as you walked, both sipping quietly at the hot liquid. From where you were, you could already hear the shouts of training, the crash of the puck against glass and the slapping of sticks upon the ice. It was a sound you knew and loved.

And as your partner pushed open the door, the bright lights of the rink lit everything up. You both moved quickly with a light tapping of both coffee cups in luck, your partner immediately gravitating to the head coach who lingered beside the boards, while you would weave onto the bench and begin your setup. Lens mounted onto the camera body, fixing your settings to this particular arena until you were happy with your picture. It was simply second nature now.

You stood beside the boards, camera switching from player to player with smooth motions as the camera clicked. Turning to each goalie, your camera would linger with the rhythmic clicking — you didn’t need to know all of the story, but a focus on the goalies was always a popular one. Players being called up to the NHL happened so regularly, it was hardly a story, but goalies? Now that got people ticking.

As the session progressed, you watched your partner question each player who came to the bench for water before they’d even had a chance to breathe. You would simply smile at each person, almost sympathetically, and do your job with the clicking of the camera.

Even as the young goalie skated over, angling toward the bench where you stood with a hand outstretched for a bottle, your lips presented a small smile as you waited for your partner to pounce. But as he was too wrapped up with Tolopilo, this goalie was left in silence … for a moment at least. You knew a little about him, of course. A young guy from Latvia, drafted a few years ago now, with a bit of a rocky start to the season. His eyes met yours as the blue and green mask was raised from his face, lips curled into a smile at the first glance.

You spoke without a second thought. It had been some years now since you ended things with your ex, but you’d spent a few years learning Latvian for them — it had been years since you had any reason to use it.

“Sveiki…”

Artūrs blinked. The smile on his lips disappeared as confusion was etched in its place. He’d been in Canada for a while now, with only the occasional passing player conversation to give him that little piece of home. He’d never expected this woman to come out with that.

“Sveiki.” The goalie quietly replied, leaning his weight forward upon the boards beside you. “You’re Latvian?”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping through your lips as the camera lowered, your body turning to almost mirror his as you leaned upon the boards.

“I’m not Latvian, but my ex was. I learned some from when we were together.”

As you spoke, he watched you closely as the smile returned to his face. A smile that you couldn’t help but find contagious. He nodded slowly, thinking silently to himself before his blocker hand began to shake. The glove removed, his hand wiping upon his jersey before it was offered across to you with a grin.

“I’m Artūrs,” He spoke with a little more confidence, capturing your gaze beneath his dark eyes. They were easy to get lost in as you looked at him. “But this lot mostly call me Arty.”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, Arty.” You hummed as your hand came to meet his, a slight look of amusing disgust at the sweaty hand of the goaltender. Needless to say it was enough to make the young goalie laugh.

Releasing his hand with a playful swat, you too would wipe your hand upon your jumper as he laughed. You couldn’t blame him, and you too found it funny, but a sweaty hand was not what you wanted.

“Piedodiet.” He spoke through the laughter, head cocking as he watched you. Your eyes narrowed playful in response to his apology.

“I’m not sure that I believe that you’re sorry.” You found yourself teasing in response, the camera growing heavy in your hands as it sat idle. If your partner looked over, it would look as though you were helping him with his job — but far from it. You were enjoying yourself, more than you realised at the time.

He gave no response, just the rising and falling of his brows. A cheeky grin at his lips as the hand returned the blocker, the bottle returned to it’s place on the boards.

“Will I see you around here more?” Arty called out as he took a few strides away from where you stood. He hoped, silently, that you’d say yes. That you’d be back to photograph and chat more. For whatever reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet, he wanted to see more of you.

It was your turn to stay silent, shrugging with shoulders and hands. You had no idea if your job would bring you back to the Abbotsford Centre, but you hoped that it would.

And as the training session came to end, your partner returned to you with a notepad full of notes and a voice recorder full to burst, you gave a lingering glance back to the goalie as he took his first steps from the ice, and met your eyes with a smile.

Months passed and you had often thought of the grinning Latvian goalie of the Abbotsford Canucks. Your job hadn’t taken you back to the little suburb of Vancouver, though you’d occasionally catch the games on TV. A little curiosity peaking as you’d remember the conversation with him — sometimes, you’d catch yourself smiling as you thought about it. You’d watch his games when you could and read the news in which he featured.

You couldn’t say that you missed him, you barely knew him, but you wanted to know him … You wanted to be able to miss him.

March rolled around, the end of the regular season was in sight and you’d taken the lead in photography coverage of the Vancouver Canucks for a while now — you’d become a regular at the Rogers Arena, and knew most of the faces of players, staff and partners. You’d even become friends with a number of the wives and girlfriends. You were a familiar face to all.

And you were one of the first on the scene, with your partner in tow, at the announcement of the press conference. Demko’s injury was the worst kept secret in the city, and you’d all been waiting for them to announce it. To know which lucky goalie was getting the call up from Abbotsford.

Journalists and photographers piled into the large room with whispers and nods of acknowledgement. Everyone waiting for Tocchet to make the announcement, and your heart skipped a little beat when he did … for the grinning goalie, Artūrs Šilovs would be taking up the role of back-up in Demko’s absence.

You wasted no time in getting down to the rink following the announcement, you knew that all the reporters would be clamouring for a word with the captain and the rookie goalie. As the flood of journalists began through the arena, the players were already leaving the ice with only the two goalies remaining with Clarkie. Many left to find the captain and coaches, while a few photographers, yourself included, would snap what shots they could of the two goaltenders.

Your stomach did a spin to see him again, the grin seemingly stuck with glue upon your lips — it had been months, surely he wouldn’t not remember you, you thought. But as his eyes glanced across to the wall of photographers, his gaze did linger upon you. Beneath his mask, he did grin. He’d spent months hoping to see you in Abbotsford, at his training or his game. It was a bitter disappointment when another photographer had been sent down in your place.

And as the nod was given for both goalies to leave the ice, little else mattered to him than making a beeline to you.

“Sveiki.” Arty immediately said as the helmet was raised, drifting on his skates just in front of you. Your smile spread instantly, quietly returning the hello with a hum. “I need to change, but please don’t run off.”

With a curious look etched upon your features, you silently nodded. It was the end of your working day anyway, you needed to sort through the photos of the day, but you could do that while you waited.

So sat upon a chair in the stands, laptop open and photos running through, you edited and submitted your best to your partner who would return to the office to write his piece. Gaze would snap up at the first sound of movement up the steps, it was strange to see him out of his goalie gear and in normal, casual clothing. A pair of jeans, a jumper, and glasses? There was something unexpected about that, but they suited him well. You liked the glasses' look.

“You didn’t come down to Abbotsford again.” He quietly said, the disappointment clear in his voice and on his face. And you felt the sting — but you also felt the twist in your stomach of excitement … he’d wanted to see you again, he’d thought about you.

“They moved me solely to these guys. I’m barely away from this rink now, Arty.” You sighed, hand closing the laptop which rested in your lap. You’d hold it there, fiddling with the corner as you thought. “I watched some of your games from home. I should’ve come down for one or two … to watch.”

“Do you want to go for a coffee, y/n?” Artūrs interjected, impatiently and abruptly. It was almost like he had to get it out before he could stop himself, and he was noticeably nervous as he waited for an answer.

You took a moment, watching him fiddle with the hem of his jumper as he waited — yet his smile never wavered. It was stuck, just as yours was.

“I’d like that.” You finally spoke, returning the laptop to your bag without breaking eye contact. The weight in his chest lifted immediately, a heavy exhale parting his lips as he nodded. You rose with a struggle, the camera bag always seeming to be heavier in that first moment, and Arty was quick to assist. His hand offered out, collecting the strap from your hand as it was slung onto his back with ease.

You walked from the arena together, both grinning wide with occasional glances at the other. A comfortable silence between you, it was simply a nice feeling to walk at each other’s side.

“Es priecājos jūs atkal redzēt.” He finally spoke, breaking the silence with words you didn’t quite know. Your Latvian limited to basic phrases that you learned to speak to your ex’s family during the holidays.

“What does that mean?” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

And your heart skipped a little beat.

#my baby goalie #arturs silovs #silovs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #arturs silovs x reader #nhl x reader #arturs silovs x y/n #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #you just know he's a wholesome bean #he'd be an amazing boyfriend #silovsmenot writes

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starrynini05 · 3 months

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like we’re moving in slow motion – painter!kim jennie x photographer!reader

summary: when you were with her, everything felt like a dream

warnings: none

tags: non!idol au ; photography student!reader ; art student!jennie : university au

genre: fluff

word count: 1k

You will always remember your first encounter with her as if it was yesterday:

In the city of Seoul, where skyscrapers kissed the sky and neon lights painted the streets in a kaleidoscope of colors, life moved at a dizzying pace. With the arrival of spring, rain cascaded from above, transforming the urban landscape into a shimmering mosaic of light and shadow. The streets, usually bustling with the hurried footsteps of pedestrians, the murmur of crowded sidewalks, the rhythmic pulse of music escaping from nearby shops, and the hum of traffic, now lay quiet under the soothing rhythm of the rainfall.

The city, for a brief moment, seemed to catch its breath, basking in the tranquility brought by the new season. Most people would find it an inconvenience, but for you, it was an inspiration. Amidst the chaos, you were enjoying yourself in the solace of a nearby park, covered by trees, the soft shutter of your camera blending into the sounds of nature. As a photography student, you had a penchant for capturing beauty in the mundane. Your world was seen through the lens of your camera, each click capturing a frozen moment in time. The final frames were a stark contrast to the vibrant city outside, often highlighting the quiet corners and overlooked details of their urban landscape.

As the rain began to pour harder you noticed people entering different shops for shelter. Preoccupied by your equipment, you decided to continue your little shoot inside an old bookstore. While capturing the reflections of the rain-soaked streets you saw a slender, cat-eyed girl enter the store, canvas, and brushes in hand. It felt like you were moving in slow motion, almost serendipitously, your eyes met across the room, a spark igniting between both gazes.

Kim Jennie was the name engraved on her pink smock tag, slightly covered with paint. She was an art student at the same university, carrying a heart as vibrant as her paintings. She was slightly older than you, being in her third year of liberal arts while you were only a freshman. Her paintings were scattered along the campus, being exhibited as examples of skill and talent. Her world was a riot of colors, each brushstroke on her canvas a testament to her passion. Unlike you, she was pretty well known around the university, having friends in different areas, and being involved in various academic activities.

With a surge of confidence, you showed her a timid smile that she reciprocated with an even bigger smile and an invitation to talk. As you approached her, she extended her paint-covered hand and presented herself softly, “Hi, my name is Jennie, I’m a third-year art student at Hanguk University” “Nice to meet you…” too lost in her orbs, you missed her going quiet so you would continue “Oh, yeah, hey, my name is Lee y/n, I’m a first-year photography student at the same university”, your cheeks turning red at the statement. As you exchanged timid smiles and hesitant words, you discovered a shared love for art and expression. She admired your ability to freeze moments in time through your lens, while you found solace in her colorful imagination that breathed life into your monochromatic world.

You both returned to campus that day with a new perspective on life, wishing to know more about each other. Thus, as time passed your connection deepened. You spent your free time together wandering the streets of Seoul, exploring hidden alleyways and abandoned rooftops, looking to capture these landscapes in both painting and pictures. As the artistic outings became more frequent, they suddenly turned into coffee dates, picnics, and even movie dates. With each passing moment, you found yourselves falling deeper into an enchanting rhythm, your hearts beating in sync like a melody.

She became your escape from reality, leaning all your weight, showing her your most vulnerable and integer form. Likewise, you were always on her mind, she kept the memories of your countless interactions as sacred treasures, like tiny blessings to her troubled heart.

It had been almost four months since that day, and now, lying on the grass under the moonlight you couldn’t help but keep on admiring her perfect profile. She had moved your head to rest on her chest, enclosing your small frame from behind. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed at the stars in perfect silence, lost in each other's embrace. You felt her take something from behind her back, and suddenly, a small bouquet of pink tulips entered your vision. With a small sigh, she slightly sat up and sat you in front of her.

“I know it may seem like soon, but I like you a lot, you were there on my lonely nights keeping me together, you gave me a new lens from which to view, and you made it so easy for me to love you” – “So, wouldn't it make sense if I was yours?” Her voice was barely audible with how nervous she was, and your eyes were almost brimming with tears. You were moved, and, as if on impulse, you threw yourself at her, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug, as the tears intensified. Worriedly, she asked you “Hey, why are you crying beautiful? Did I do something wrong?”, at her words you hastily moved your head in denial. “I just really like you too, and those words were so touching and profound, it made me emotional”, you carefully rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, “For me, you are just like the dream, one I never want to wake up from. I love you; it will be my pleasure to be yours” A soft smile drew on her face as she gingerly kissed your nose.

And so, in the quiet embrace of the night, you both found yourselves enveloped in a love that transcended time and space. For in the chaos of the world around you, you had discovered a moment of slow motion, where everything else faded away, and only your love remained, moving in slow, slow motion.

#jennie #blackpink #jennie kim #jennie x reader #blackpink x reader #jennie imagines #jennie scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #girl group scenarios #spotify

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cinematicgf · 1 year

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Breaking the Girl~ 18+ dom!joel

Summary: as a casual photographer, you find the opportunity to go with your neglectful boyfriend to his hometown for the summer thrilling. Taking photos of his neighbors and friends whilst not blowing money on a huge vacation sounds perfect, a small job with his mum, neighborhood summer get-togethers and weekend beach trips accompanied by your trusty camera, why not?! But when a certain charming Southern man, known as your boyfriend’s old boss, enters the mix, you cant take your lens off the fine older man, and he cant seem to take it off you either.

Pairings: (no-outbreak) dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

Warnings and notes: 18+, smutty smutty smut, dom!joel and sub!f!reader, piv, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling), dirty talk, drinking, swearing, oral sex (f! receiving), arguments, age gap (reader is afab! in their early 20s and Joel in in his mid-early 50s), reader in uni, bit of a praise kink ngl, boyfriend being an asshole and Joel being just as charming as ever, reader has some cunty thoughts but good for her honestly, just pure unbridled filth with a semi developed backstory<3 no use of y/n

~ 7.2k (oops)

A/N: hi all<3 I wanna thank you guys for the support of my previous Joel fic, I appreciate it so much<3 this is just a string of pure filth with limited backstory. my inbox is open for requests as usual, your feedback is always welcome and if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog<3

She was the girl Left alone Feeling the need To make me her home

I don't know what, when or why The twilight of love had arrived

Summer was approaching quick and with your exams out of the way and all the stress of the last few months, the final week of university seemed kinda pointless. Yet here you were in class, daydreaming about all the things you would get up to. Perhaps you could rent a sea-side batch and spend your warm afternoons in the ocean before settling down with a book and a bottle of wine for the evenings. Or maybe, you could blow your barista allowance and go to Florida for the sweltering months. Truth is, you didn’t have any plans for the summer, and with the days counting down much too fast to comprehend, you found yourself at a loss for what to do on your break. No matter what you did, however, you know your trusty camera would be tucked to your side, film loaded in and an extra pocket in your bag to store the developed photos. Photography had been a passion of yours for as long as you could remember. You had saved up birthday and Christmas money for years in order to afford a camera for yourself and you had never gone anywhere without it. Unfortunately, the impending doom of your hobby “having no jobs”, as your father put it, meant that you had to change your uni major. Although, you had been cheeky and added in a photography paper here and there, just to satisfy yourself and to no knowledge of your father.

The sound of a backpack being thrown down next to you made you retreat from your thoughts with a jump. Your boyfriend pushed himself into a seat next to you, “So babe”, he began; god, how many times had you told him you hated being called that. “I was thinking, for the summer, you could come back home with me?” he finished. You looked at him with a frown, the last thing you wanted to do was spend another summer cooped up in a small town like the one you grew up in, the one you visited every holidays, just to be wrapped in uncomfortably tight hugs from elders commenting on, “well well, I haven’t seen you since you were this big”, making their hand level with their knees, “look at how pretty you’ve gotten, you have your mothers eyes dear, you must be so proud of her”, they would always say, giving a warm smile to your father as he too looked at you with a grin, knowing how insane you must think these strangers were. You loved seeing your father on breaks, but c’mon, sometimes you yourself needed some time to yourself.

You contemplated his offer briefly, “Hmm I don’t kno—” “Cmon!” he insisted, unwarily cutting you off, “It’ll be great, we can stay in my parents sleep out, I’ll be working for one of my neighbors who I had a job with in high school, and I’ve already asked my mom if she can find some work for you around her office. On weekends we can walk to the beach and go to the mall and whatnot, c’mon babe, it’ll be fun”. Great, a summer working in an office and hanging out with your boyfriends’ rich parents, sounds… delightful. But truth is, you didn’t have anything else to do over the summer, and maybe this would be a way to relax without spending a boatload of your hard-earned money on a shitty trip. “Hmm... fine, you’ve convinced me”, you pretend to be annoyed about it. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the cheek which you ignore. “It’ll be great, we can go up Saturday afternoon. First day of summer, the adults in the neighborhood usually throw a barbecue at Joel’s, the guy I’m working for. Yeah, it’s a little rowdy with drunk adults and a pool thrown into the mix but I always find myself actually having fun”. At this point you felt a little excitement creep through you. You arrive and immediately there’s a party, hell yeah. Who cares about drunk middle-aged people when at least there are free drinks. “I’m sure we will have a great time”, you force a smile as he gazes at you, “as long as I’m with you”, he replies earnestly before adding repulsively, “can you bring something hot to wear, like those little shorts- I wanna impress everyone in town that you’re mine”. You cringed at the sudden ruin of the mood and his claiming you as his. It sends a nauseous feeling straight to your stomach with a hint of rage.

Six months ago, you may have laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, but truth is, you had been meaning to break things off with him for a couple of weeks now. His constant unawareness to vile comments and the fact that you were always treated as an accessory to him, as if you weren’t a person at all, had just brought you to your breaking point. Not to mention your friend Em, who dated his much kinder friend, had broken the news that him and a girl in another one of his classes had been fucking on the regular. This should’ve hurt, but truth be told, you two had been distant for months now. The only reason that you hadn’t broken it off sooner was the slamming of exam period, as you spend two weeks with your head buried in books, barely seeing anyone, including him (you had kinda forgot about him over that time, if you were honest with yourself, and, you know you weren’t supposed to say it, but it felt kinda nice, not having the responsibility of constantly thinking about a significant other). Remembering all the outliers in your relationship, you cursed yourself for saying yes to the trip and not just calling it quits to spend summer alone. Well, you guessed you wouldn’t be seeing him all that much, with both of you working and you could use the excuse you wanted to check out the town to get away for a bit. God, you felt like a major bitch, but still, it was a free trip. So, fuck it. Call it compensation for how neglectful he had been of your relationship.

The trip back to his hometown was draining. You couldn’t help but wish your boyfriend would just ease up on the constant chatter so the two of you could sit in comfortable silence with the music blaring instead. He told you all about his neighbors and his parents and you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by this Joel Miller character he was working for. Single parent, self-made wealthy contractor with a charm about him, or so your boyfriend complimented, as he told the story of how Joel had offered him a job in high school when times were tight through his parents’ divorce. “Listen okay, literally everyone in town swoons for him but I’ve never seen him with anyone, I don’t know, maybe he’s just not looking to settle down. I personally don’t see it, he’s just an old man”, he mentions offhandedly. You were a little nervous to meet him after the string of admiration by your boyfriend.

Once you had arrived and his stepfather and mother had showered you with acclimation (“My goodness Sammy, look at this gorgeous thing, how did you manage to lock her down”). Getting ready for the much-awaited barbecue, you settled for simple, as the humid evening approaching told you that anymore layers, and you would be drenched in sweat. You added some accessories, equipping yourself with your camera and extra film as you and your boyfriend headed across the road to, supposedly, Joel’s house.

Already there was a congregation of neighbors and friends, all gathered around a pool in the backyard, beers in hands, chatting enthusiastically with others they, presumably, were all familiar with. It was utterly suburban, the sight bemusing you slightly as you force away a smirk. Making your way across the lawn and through already intoxicated neighbors you find a full cooler, preparing yourself with a beer before observing the strangers. Your boyfriend had taken off to greet friendly faces, taking the opportunity, you fixate your lens to your eye to capturing the action.

A sweep of the back garden and a few shots later your lens focuses on a tall man leaning on a porch pillar. You can’t help but stare through the disguise of your camera. The cross of his tanned broad arms stretching his t shirt against his chest, making the expanse that much more noticeable. One hand jammed into his pocket, the other superlatively cradling a beer.

His patchy beard lined his structured jaw, squinting as he laughed, dimples inverting the sides of his mouth exquisitely. All these featured crafted the most handsome man you think you had ever laid eyes on. Pressing the shutter, you snap a photo of him mid-laugh as a neighbor entertained him. His admirable laugh carried across the garden, a melody to your ears, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“Babe!” you boyfriend calls from across the lawn, cringing once more at the pet name, you wander across the garden after being summoned. “This here is Joel”. Your eyes meet the older man finally greeting the stranger who has piqued your interest the past few hours. He had a southern charm about him, and the closer you get, you can see how broad he really is. His muscles sculpted through his shirt, the veins in his arm mimicking those of Michelangelo's David. What the hell was your boyfriend talking about “just an old man”, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, allure and all.

“Ah, so this is she”, he envelopes your hand in his, his calloused palms connect more gently than you expected with your own young, soft padding. “I’m Joel”, he introduces himself, “I noticed you snapping photos over there”, his smile softens his features, you can’t help but mirror his beaming. “Speaking of”, you say, reaching into your pocket, you hand him the photo you had taken earlier; his attractive face radiating from the Polaroid, “Here”.

Taking it, he inspects it closely, you hold your breath, faintly, always nervous of reactions to your craft, no matter how friendly the gathering. A mesmerizing smile breaks out on his feature, “Probably the best photo taken of me ever. And that’s saying something”, he adds, grinning. “Its all yours”, you offer, watching him pocket the photo with pride.

Joel and you fall into conversation seamlessly. You tell of your uni and photography endeavors as Joel starts telling you about his contracting business. How he got it off the ground with the help of his brother, Tommy, who was lounging on a pool chair beside Joel’s daughter Sarah, who he mentioned with a sparkle of joy in his eye any proud father would have. “So, after Sarah’s mom left, I decided to get my shit togeth—”

“Holy shit”, your boyfriend interrupts. Joel raises his eyebrows in confusion, and you sigh in question, as you were enjoying talking to Joel, “Listen, my old high school buddies are having a boys night at theirs”, he raises up his phone, showing the brightened notification on the screen. You don’t bother to read it. “I gotta go babe, sorry. Ill see you later on tonight, okay?”, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving you standing there speechless before weaving through the crowd of people in the back garden and leaving. You’re shocked, frankly. Sure, he’s been neglectful of you, but this was a new low. Ditching you at his neighbor’s party to go hang out with other people… you are truly dumbstruck. Tears of humiliation and pure anger burn on your lashes, threatening to leak down your face. You turn your attention to Joel leaning next to you, the same stunned expression accessorizing his features, brow slightly furrowed. “Well,”, he sighs after a beat, “that was a bit fucking rude. Sorry about th—“

“Excuse me”, it was your turn to interrupt him, as you fled from his domineering presence, frankly, embarrassed by your bastard of a boyfriend. Tears lighting a fire behind your eyes as your blood boiled.

“Fuck”, you took a look at the bottom of your empty beer bottle, heading over to the cooler. “Fuck!!”, you repeated to yourself upon opening the now empty chiller. Adults really did drink a lot huh, you thought, glaring daggers at the once full bin before wandering across the garden and inside the house.

You navigated the modern, utterly suburban house plan until you found a garage. Damn middle-aged men and their garages, you swear every dad you knew decorated their garage better than their own rooms. Thank god Joel was no different, because you knew there would be a fridge there filled with the good stuff. Once alone with your new full beverage, you let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. You were here, alone now, with people only he knew, did he expect you to just stand in the corner and drink by yourself, observing the party? Did he expect you to just go home? Honestly, the mere thought of it sent a rush of anger traversing up your spine. “Asshole”, you muttered to yourself, taking a swig of your stolen beer.

“Didn’t think pretty girls were thieves”, you heard a teasing voice behind you. You whipped your head around to make out Joel in the doorway of the garage, muscular arms tucked into his sides again, one supporting his almost empty beer. Had he… followed you? He uncrossed his ankles and made his way over to where you stood by the fridge.

“The door was open, arrest me officer”, you retort sarcastically, already over this whole shindig after being ditched by your boyfriend.

He chuckled lightly before noticing your peeved demeanor. “Ah”, he whispers to himself, “boyfriend troubles huh? More so, than the whole ordeal before hm, darling”. You glance at him through your lashes and roll your eyes, “You don’t know the half of it.” Sighing, he moved closer to you, his elbow caressing yours slightly, he looks down at you with an expression you cant quite make out, “All I can say is”, he begins, his voice low and gravelly, “if I had a pretty thing like you for myself, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight”.

Was he… making a move on you? You couldn’t tell. In your drunken state, you didn’t really care either, why not pursue it. Your boyfriend hadn’t touched you in months, the least Joel could say was no; so, fuck it, right?

You inch toward him, “and what would you do if you had me, Mr. Miller”, you coo, your voice tantalizing, wavering on a whisper as you gaze at him.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to show you”, he smirks. The two of you are unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning on your face and can smell his cologne. He is inundating your senses and you can’t get enough. You take the opportunity to weave your hands around his waist. He reaches an unbearably large hand up to your face and skims your cheekbone, his sizeable thumb halting on your bottom lip. You use the opportunity to take his finger into your mouth, suckling gently before releasing it with a soft kiss on the padding of his digit. You can feel him harden against you through his jeans.

“Fuckkkken hell”, he drawls, “temptress,” a darkness scintillates in his eyes.

A loud bang of a door close by followed by a whining, “Daddddddd”, has the both of you jumping apart as Sarah appears in view of the doorway. The young girl is rubbing her eyes, messy curls adorning her cute face. Slumping, she complains again, “Dad, I’m tired, can you tuck me in, please”. Joel gives her a warm smile, “I'll be right there baby girl, go get into bed okay, gimme a second”. She notices you for the first time, “I like your hair”, she grins, you cant help but smile at the young girl, “thank you honey, I like yours too”. With that, she disappears back through the door and up the stairs as Joel’s attention turns back to you, his former dark, eager look has returned.

“Come around tomorrow.” It’s not a question. Rather a demand. One hand engulfs your upper arm, giving it a light squeeze as he plants a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you in the garage to comprehend the exciting conversation you had just had. Before he does, however, he stops in the doorway and turns back around to face you. “For the record, your boyfriend’s an asshole. Has been since high school.”, he gives you a grin but there’s a hint of concern behind his eyes. It was a shitty thing for your boyfriend to do and he understands that.

Your boyfriend had passed out on his parent’s couch when you left Joel’s house, so you made your way to the sleep out, thrilled to have some time alone to think about the events of the night. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that the entire conversation with Joel felt good. Right, even; like Joel was actually trying to talk to you as any decent human being would. And maybe the bar was on the ground for your after your shitty relationship, but you didn’t feel guilty about wanting the older man. And he wanted you too. Maybe it’ll only be for a quick fuck, but it felt nice to be wanted. You thought about the conversation again before slipping a finger down through your wet folds, rubbing quick fast circles to the nub of your clit, exhaling soft moans. You imagined your hand wasn’t your own but Joel's.

The next day you woke up early. Your nerves shot as you take a shower, taking the opportunity of seeing Joel again to dress in lacy, barely there lingerie under your clothes (why you packed it… just in case, you supposed). If nothing happened between the two of you, or he admitted that perhaps he was drunk and just fucking around, then nobody would know your effort but you. However, if he did get to undress you, the choice to dress up would be an ideal one.

The door is open when you arrive, the summer entering uninvited through the hallway of the cozy home. Entering the doorway to the living room, you knock on the door frame, Joel appearing moments later behind you on the stairs. “Hi again, doll”, he greets you with a genuine smile, walking to the kitchen. Those dimples, carved by Donatello himself, you supposed. “You want something to drink?”, you nod as he leads the way past you. Handing you a dewy beer, you make your way to the couch to sit on the edge like a nervous child and admire the man in front of you. His t shirt tightening at the sleeves, barely able to fit over his muscular, slightly tanned arms. Jeans, ungodly tight around his crotch. You blush at the realization that you’re staring at him in all his glory. Your breath hitches as you focus your gaze on the skew of family photos dotted around the living me.

“Why’d you ask me over?” you come right out and question. In your drunken state last night, you didn’t care if it looked like you were coming onto him, if he said no, your intoxication dulled your embarrassment. But now, in your sober state, you needed to know, so as not to do just that. “I wanna take care of you”, he expressed nonchalantly, his focus occupied on finding a bottle opener. “And how do you presume to do that”, you continue, bemused by his confused expression lightening once he found what he was looking for, popping the cap before coming to sit next to you on the couch. He crossed his ankle over his knee, your eyes unfortunately for you, travel straight to the bulge in his jean. Perv, you curse to yourself. “Well, it just seems like your boyfriend isn’t doing a very good job, is he sweetheart?”. An exasperated sigh emits from your throat, your eyes roll unwillingly at the mention of your partner. You lean against the back of the couch, head resting on his forearm relaxing lazily behind you, as you take a sip from your bottle.

You realize you really do want him… badly. “Maybe I do need your help, Mr. Miller”, lolling your neck to look at him through your lashes, putting on a sad face whilst the hint of seduction in your breathy tone communicates everything to Joel.

He leans in and kisses you, gently at first. You deepen it, needing more of him as you moan into his mouth, giving him easy access to slide his tongue across your teeth. Tongue and teeth collide in a hot, messy kiss. His hand glides up your waist to your throat, where he cups your jaw with two giant fingers and squeezes gently. Quickly realizing you’re in the middle of the living room, gasping pulling away. “Shit, is Sarah home?”, you pant. “Friend’s house”, Joel says shortly, reconnecting your lips to his.

“Then, make me feel good Joel”, you coo, teeth running over his bottom lip. He exhales a low animistic groan, watching his eyes darken to a lust-filled gaze. “Yes ma’am”.

Next thing you know, he is walking you backwards to the spare bedroom downstairs. Both of you are so needy, you can’t even wait to make it upstairs to his own bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, he works at your panties, lips connecting with your throat, neck, collarbone, a symphony of needy groans accompany your pleasureful sighs quickly filling the empty space of the room. Slipping a calloused hand between your thighs, he begins working to collect your arousal, coating the tips of his fingers before slipping a digit into your cunt. You exhale a gasp, he swallows into a groan, “Fuck, doll,” he breathes softly, watching his finger pumping in and out of you, “does this pussy ever get this wet for your boyfriend?” He palms himself through his jeans, relieving some of his building tension. “No Joel”, you gasp, “not like it does for you”. Mascara gathers at your lashes as you squirm on his sheets. Joel’s touch fills you with ecstasy, but you still need more.

“Joel—” you whine, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, desire and devotion flooding his features, you follow his line of vision to the sight of his digit fucking you, then to your camera lying on his bedside table. You see the gears turning in his head, barely able to comprehend what he is up to before he grabs the camera, taking it in one large hand, positioning the base on his palm as he bends his fingers to the shutter button. You turn your head away in bliss, all you can focus on are his expert fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. “C'mon baby, you don’t need to be shy around me”. The camera looks miniature in his hand, the flash blinds you, snapping your pure pleasure, freezing it as a passionate moment in time. Joel holds the strap by his teeth, yanking the filthy portrait out, throwing it on the bedside table. Fuck, that just made you even wetter, if that was even possible. “Joel—ah- Joel” you continue to whimper, unworried about the physical evidence of your filthy endeavors due to your young, committed cunt clenching unwilling around his fingers by how good it feels.

“I know, sweetheart”, he whispers understandingly, “Just gotta warm you up a little longer, okay sweet girl”, he slips another digit between your walls. Your back arches against the mattress, head thrown back as a string of moans and whimpers tumble from your lips. Joel’s eyes darken into a hungry, heavy look with every squirm and curse that falls from your lips. Your eyebrows knit together in pleasure as his filthy words and his tantalizing, skillful fingers aid the coil in your stomach to release slowly. Joel, camera in hand, snaps two more of him fucking you with his fingers, discarding them on the table again. “Fuck, my own little cam girl”, he drawls in your ear, smirking, “we got four left, gotta use them wisely now”.

Joel abruptly pulls his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air, whining, as the bliss slowly fades, your arousal still hot and heavily in need of him like the air you breathe. He drags his jeans and boxers off, tossing them carelessly onto the floor by the bed. Taking in his girth, you understand why he had to warm you up first. You damn near moan at the sheer side of it as the slick from your pussy assists his thick fingers to pump himself a couple of times. He smirks at your needy expression. Cocky bastard, he knows he’s big too. Settling between your legs, his tip of his cock teases your entrance. You can feel his pre-cum mixing with your slick, creating an exquisite cocktail. Repetition falling from his lips in an unsteady gravelly tone as he coerces you to take ever inch of him inside your cunt, with a melody of “good girl” and “you’re doing so good for me, pretty baby”.

Joel slides inside you so easily, with how wet you are for him. A soft hiss, and then his features mold into a symphony of pleasure and hunger. His capable fingers tangle in your hair he glides his length in and out, painfully slow. You finally find your voice amongst the soft gasps and ah’s. “Joel— need more, please”, your voices emerges as a breathy whisper; making his features darken with craving. “I know baby, I know”, he coos, “you’re so full right now, aren’t you. That’s it sweet girl, you’re so good, taking every inch of me into that pretty little pussy”.

Your mind is whirling 100 miles per hour as he whispers filthy phrases in your ear, the promise to fuck you hard and slow being almost unbearable to comprehend. His thick cock stretches you out, rock hard, forcing your legs wide open as your ankles cross around his waist for support. It’s too much, fuck! After a few seconds of adjusting to this size, he pulls all the way out. You whine slightly at the loss of him inside you before he slams back into your cunt, filling you all the way before repeating again and again and again. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses your g spot like no other mans has before. All the while he has one large, veiny hand around your throat providing a slight bit of pressure, his thumb caresses your lips, opening them to slide a finger inside. You take the hint as a call back to last night at the party, slipping his fingers to the back of your throat and sucking on them. He groans out a string of profanities, eyes glued to you as you feel his cock twitch inside you at the image before him. You release his fingers, a string of spit still attaching you and him, he uses his thumb to spread it around your lips before dragging your chin down to open your mouth, pressing his lips to yours delicately. You can barely keep up with his kiss as he continues to slam into you at a rapid pace. You’re moaning out his name, a chorus of Joel, Joel Joel-, he smothers your whines with his lips. Rocking his hips up into you slowly, he brings his thumb down between the two of you, his calloused finger after years of contracting, makes contact with your clit, rubbing circles to your neglected nub. You push his hand away after your body jolts from the stimulation and he lets out a low chuckle. “You about to come, sweetheart?”, his voice is restrained and needy. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, teasing you as the crescendo builds. You nod quickly. Squeezing your eyes shut, your moans begin to become rapid sighs on your tongue.

“Eyes on me, doll”, Joel demands, you open them to be met by the southern man, slamming his hips into you. Fuck he looks so good on top of you right now. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest, his hair messy, two curls decorating his forehead. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight. He lifts himself up on his knees, grabbing the camera once more, he takes a selection of photos of you taking him deep into you. He thumbs lightly at your clit for a shot, before the film runs out, a satisfyingly dirty collection of photos to remember your time together by lying next to the both of you.

Your hips move together in conjunction. His hands weave around your back, pulling you into him as his lips attached to your breasts, he anchors his tantalizingly expert fingers into your hair, the plush of your ass, circling your waist— Joel holds you as close as physically possible, his muscular arms crush you, teeth grazing the nub of your breast. There’s a starving kind of desire laced into his kiss. Involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, you slide your hands around his neck to hold yourself steady.

Then, he’s pulling away slightly, his hungry eyes watching his length pump in and out of you, as he plants a strong hand on your thigh, spreading you open to receive impossibly more of him. You are simply a toy at this point, as he dictates the sheer brutal pace of how he fucks you. “God, you look so beautiful, full of my cock, doll”. He moves his lips wetly up your throat, your head thrown back. He smiles against your mouth, you give him a shaky “mmm”, he ardently peaks your lips, releasing after each kiss to watch your cock-drunken expression, his name the only word you can attempt, like worship on the edge of your tongue. “Joel- Joel- Joel, mmm”, you stutter a praise for the captivated audience, who is relishing in the sound of your pleading gasps.

“I wanna see how appreciative you are for this cock, baby, keep your eyes on me”.

His voice is firm as his hardened hands caresses the length of your spine. You feel him flex inside you, his dominant gaze securing you as he speeds up, watching as your tits bounce with his rough strokes. “Ohmygod–Joel–”, the promise of your climax rapidly approaches, the ache undoes all the tension inside you, overtaking every inch of you, causing your thighs to squeeze him impossibly tighter.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me now, Darlin, you’re doing so good, come around me, doll”. The praise, the pet names, him inside you, all sends you over the edge. Your cunt starts to flood and shudder around him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm release. You squeeze around Joel’s cock so tight; your lungs can only gasp out a mixture whines as you come around him. Joel continues to fuck you through your orgasm, its hard and fast to the point where you can feel another coil build inside you. He can feel it too, shifting your hips up slighting in a way that makes your mind blow, you nearly scream out at how good it feels. “That’s my good girl, I need another one, baby. You can give me another. That’s it, Yes, give it to me pretty girl”, his lips attach to a soft spot behind your ear, making you moan his name, your delicate hands rake through his hair. He pulls out for a brief second, flipping you onto your side as he lies behind you, sliding back inside you again. Its almost as if he never left, you’re so drunk off him fucking you that you can barely comprehend what is happening. Just that it feels so good, his hand weaves around you to play with your nipple, squeezing it slightly as his lips pepper kisses to your neck. he gently hooks your leg over his, stretching you open impossibly wider. “I wanna feel that pussy squeezeing me again, baby”. He continues lacing a string of filthy words into your ear while retreating back to his signature move when the two of you first started, pulling all the way out and slamming into you again.

“Lemme, feel you comin’ when I fill you up, good girl.”

Your second orgasm blinds you as you moan through your bliss. Joel’s gravely groans behind you sound like a melody. His warm breath in your ear and progressive sloppiness, encasing the room in leud noises, accompanied by his broken moans signals to you that he is close too. You turn you head to capture his lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm spark through you, your thighs twitching against his. He meets them brutally, and you know you’re going to be bruised inside and out when this is over. By the time he’s pumped you full of his cum and pulled out, it’s leaking down the inside of your thighs. You attempt to catch your breath, as his cock settles between the two of you on your lower back. You cant help but smile as he rubs lazy circles to your bare hip.

“Fucken hell, that was incredible”, he whispers, more so to himself than to you. “You are something else, doll”, he breathes, still catching his breath. You turn yourself around so that you’re half on top of him, throwing your leg over his so his cock is resting between your thighs. “You’re not so bad yourself”, you retort, smirking up at him.

“You know, you look so fucking pretty on top of me like that, darlin’. Next time, ill have to get a shot of you riding me”. Your heart jumps slightly at the promise of a next time, which he notices, following up his sentiment.

“Are you staying the whole summer”, he questions, his roaming hands worshiping your waist. “Sure am”, you respond hopefully. “Well then, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon”, he gives you a genuine smile, capturing your lips against lip for a delicate kiss, his patchy,lightly groomed beard scratching softly at your cupid’s bow.

You’re still unable to form a coherent sentence, as you feel his slick cocktailed with your own leaking out of your cunt. You slide off him, propping yourself up on a trembling elbow, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips. “Until next time then”, he promises, gliding your panties up your still-weak legs, a wet patch already forming on the fabric. Aren’t you glad you decided to wear these. He hands you the photos and your camera as you attempt to dress yourself again, feeling weak and so empty without him already. Handing them to you, he slips one into his jean pocket with a cheeky comment. Walking you to the door, he kisses you deeply, his grey-flecked beard scratching your cheeks. After your goodbyes you can’t help but miss him. Hell, you’d only known the older man two days; still, you wanted his company more and more as the hours went by, so you reached for what he had given you to remember you by, “until next time”.

You stand in the sleep-out kitchen, admiring the Polaroid’s he had taken of you. You filter through them, blushing more at the sight of each one, dirtier than the last, too caught up to hear the door open. “Hey”, the familiar voice makes you jump. Your boyfriend, out of breath comes stalking through the door. You scramble to hide the photos, collecting them in a bundle, attempting to put them in your jean pocket. You force a smile at him as his eyes travel down to the photos in your hand. “From the party right, lemme take a look at those,” he says enthusiastically, closing the gap between the two of you as he reaches for them. “No”, you try to brush it off, “the lighting isn’t right, they didn’t turn out great, ya know, night shooting is a bitch”, you try to pull the photos further from his grasp, but he has a firm hold on them, yanking them slightly. You gasp as they flutter gracefully to the ground, face up, dropping to your knees to quickly pick them up but he’s already seen. “What the fuck”, he whispers, grabbing one and gazing it, a deep-rooted frown carved into his brow. It was you, mouth frozen in a pleasureful ‘ah’ as a peak of Joel entering you was seen at the bottom of the frame. “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is”, his voice was wavering on a yell.

You decided not to try to explain, “you wanna tell me about the girls you’ve been fucking these past few months, huh?”, you retort. “Everyone knows, everyone has told me to break up with you because of it, shit, you don’t even try to keep it a secret”. You voice is laced with venom, it was high time this discussion was happening, you just wished you had the courage to bring it up on your own, and not in this unwanted circumstance.

“Dont change the subject, who is he?”, he demands, his tone reaching shouting point. “Take a wild fucking guess. Do you need a hint? He stayed with me while you ditched my ass at your neighborhood party. While you humiliated me by just fucking leaving me there with strangers like the asshole you are.” You can feel rage-filled hot tears collecting at your lash line reminiscing about the event. “I know you’re going to try to break it off and think its your own doing but trust me, this”, you direct your finger between yourself and him, “this, has been over for a long time”. You push past him with force, grabbing your bag which you hadn’t even bothered to unpack, thank fuck, what a nice coincidence. You stomp toward the door.

“Fine”, he responds, “but as if he’s going to want you. He’s a middle-aged man with a kid, you were just a fuck”. It spirals you. You turn on your heels to look at him, he is frowning on the verge of tears (how many times had you been there before in his presence) and there’s a contortion of anger in his face, “At least he actually made me come”, you retorted hotly, walking out the door before you remember an extra detail. You pop your head back through the door to utter, “three times, actually”. And then you’re off. You ask his mother to drive you to the train station, explaining the split, briefly, and that you didn’t feel comfortable to stay. She insisted you did, kind lady, but didn’t pry into the details.

Once you had boarded and the train sped away from the dreaded events of the town, you felt relief course through you, no longer chained to that asshole. Sure, you know you should’ve done it sooner, and yeah, it wasn’t an ideal option what had happened, but this meant you could have some time to yourself this summer.

As you were back at square one, you daydreamed of the handful of friends who usually spent their summers on campus to call once you got back. Your phone screen lighting up with a ding, caught you off guard, the name causing your heart to skip a beat.

“It’s Joel. I heard the rundown from his mother, got your number in the process. Are you alright, doll?” he writes. You read it in his voice, subconsciously smiling at how his pet names aren't limited to face to face conversations.

You look at the bright screen in disbelief. He asked your exes mother for your number, meaning he wanted to stay in contact. Perhaps? One could only hope. You didn’t let your excitement get the better of you, however.

“Guess word travels fast. I’m fine, it should’ve happened sooner, honestly. I’m so sorry I got you involved”. You put your phone down, not expecting a reply after your apology. But the immediate ding had not only butterflies, but a whole zoo trampling around your stomach.

“If you’re going to be at your dorm over the summer, let me come visit sometime darling? Tommy offered to work more after your ex quit, so my plate is free”. He adds, much to your delight, “plus I think Sarah would love to see the campus.”

You smiled at the thought of showing the young girl around your college, she would be in awe of the library, you thought, remembering a glimpse of a large collection of books strewn across the table and shelf in the living room. You started to type a reply to Joel before another message comes through.

“and, for the record, those photos were hot, sweetheart”, he adds, a blush coloring your face, your gaze immediately drifting to the pocket of your bag where they lay, safe, sound, and where no one would be able to see, thank god.

“I suppose I could work something out, for you” you reply, a smiling creeping across your features before double texting, “you know, I have extra film in my dorm... for emergency”. Discarding your phone on the table in front of you, you watch the countryside melt into a blur, feeling the most relaxed and content you had in a while.

if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog! your feedback is always appreciated<3 thank you for reading

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #dom!joel miller #∘* ✧･ﾟ ➳ audie writes

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soobnny · 1 year

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the things we define as love — kim seungmin.

trope. strangers to lovers. college au. just fluff and a rly shy side of seungmin.

synopsis. a study of love through the lens of a tired photography student who has long given up on romance

word count. 2.4k words

warnings. none

note. i thought of this idea during one of my art classes n the stars aligned cuz when i opened pinterest .. low and behold a photo of seungmin with a camera. that’s what birthed this fic basically

What are the things most thought of when asked about love?

Is it the colors you use to paint its beauty in your head? Is it the taste of old chapstick you don’t quite remember the brand of anymore? Is it the reminder of something more painful that left you in resentment?

There are many things Kim Seungmin associates with love – oranges and strawberries freshly picked from the market, the way autumn leaves fall after having held on its tree for so long, the sunrise that greets him when he wakes up, lingering just long enough for him to finish his morning routine, and the way sand falls beneath his feet when he visits the beach.

There are other things too, like photography and its ability to capture moments that otherwise would’ve been gone forever, and like the old couple in front of him.

Seungmin feels a spark in his fingertips, aching to snap a photo of the purest, unadulterated definition of love right before his eyes. He thinks it would be a lovely addition to the project he’s working on for his major subject in photography.

Clearing his throat, he approaches the couple sitting peacefully together by the bench.

They smile up at him, and Seungmin scrunches his face at the thought that he had disturbed their time together.

“Hi. I wanted to… ask permission to take a photo of you two? It’s for a project in my class, we’re supposed to take photographs of the things we define as love, so I was… yeah, I was hoping, if that was alright?”

Seungmin brings a hand at the back of his neck, scratching shyly at his request to which the old woman just smiles fondly at.

“Of course! Honey, did you hear that? This lovely young boy says he wants to take a photo of us.”

She turns to her husband, and Seungmin bites back the urge to take a photo right now – of their excitement, of their sparkling eyes, and of the way they try to fix up the wrinkles of their shirts. The old woman sets her purse down, posture straightening as she loops an arm around her partner. He has a matching grin on his face, actions slightly delayed as they move to angle themselves better.

“Is this alright?” A smile paints their lips and Seungmin nods, sending a thumbs up before grabbing the camera hanging from his neck.

The click of the camera sounds, and Seungmin sneaks in a few shots of them eagerly waiting at a view of the photo.

When he steps forward, they’re already making space for him in between them, and he takes the seat politely. With his camera out to show the picture, he can’t help the way his heart squeezes at their sweet mumbling and the way they thank him for such a lovely photograph.

“This is for your project?” Seungmin nods abashedly at the question, growing even more shy when they ask to see the photos he had taken so far.

While Seungmin has been fairly confident in his skills, he’s suffered through quite a bit of burnout recently. He’s not quite sure he’s escaped it yet which is why he had urged himself to come out today, willed himself to work on his project. He bites down at his lower lip while skimming through the photos on his camera.

There are some of his friend’s pets, the tranquility of the ocean, the stars littering the night sky accompanied by the moon. They shower him in compliments at the sheer beauty of how the images are captured.

“No partner?” A blush sports the boy’s cheeks with the question asked, shaking his head and staring down at the camera in his hands.

In all honesty, Seungmin has long given up on the idea of romantic love for himself. He had the urge of wanting to fall in love years ago – back when he had so much love to give. This had stemmed from the stories and movies where he had caught a glimpse of the love he wished that he had. However, longing and patience can only go so far together, and with years of no one by his side, he’s bound to lose a little bit of hope.

So, he busied himself in his studies.

He finds comfort in believing that someday he’ll know of love that way, but he had long given up on it at present.

As if having read his mind, the old lady places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much. You’ll know when you meet them. It will sound like… a train whistle.”

Seungmin is a little lost, a puzzled smile on his lips as he nods his head to urge her to continue.

“There’s this old story by Haruki Murakami of a train whistle in the night. Imagine waking up completely alone in the darkness, and you can’t hear anything, and you don’t know the time. It’s like… like having sunk at the very bottom of the ocean. Have you felt this way before?”

While the old lady speaks in riddles, this is a feeling Seungmin is far too familiar with. He knows all too well the claws of loneliness and the heavy weight of aching hearts and drowning lungs. It has forced its fingers down his throat far too many times, making him believe that if he disappeared right now, no one would even notice.

“But you hear the sound of a train whistle, even if it’s far away in the distance. The clock starts ticking again, and you fall back on the ground. It brings you back to reality, makes you feel heard.”

Seungmin’s fingers pause from fiddling with the shutter, turning to look at the lady. There’s something in her expression… of understanding that he’s never quite fallen into contact with before. Like she’s so sure of it.

He looks back down at his camera, but he makes no move to take another photo.

“It’ll come.” With that, she stands from her seat, flattening down her dress. Her hand comes in contact with her husband’s almost immediately, and they turn on their step to walk back to where they came from.

With a final wave and bright smiles, they disappear into the distance. Huh, how strange.

He emerges back to reality with the sound of his ringtone, and he fishes for his phone tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

“Hey, I have that film you need to develop your photos. I’m at the Soul Cup cafe right now, maybe you can drop by to get them?”

“Ah, thanks Hyunjin. I’ll be right there!”

He gets up from the bench himself, having already forgotten of his earlier interactions as he trots back to his university. With his camera safely packed in his camera bag, Seungmin hurries his steps to catch Hyunjin before he leaves.

The sun hasn’t gone yet by the time Seungmin arrives, and he quickly walks into the cafe in search of his friend.

It isn’t difficult to find the silhouette of a man with long pink hair, especially when the coffee shop he liked to frequent wasn’t the most popular among the campus. Although, it seems that someone is with his friend, sitting at the same table with papers strewn around.

“Seungmin, my photographer, you made it!” Hyunjin gets up from his seat, greeting him with a smile and a side hug before directing his attention to you. “Ah, this is (name). (Name), this is Seungmin.”

Seungmin’s breath gets caught in his throat the moment you turn around to exchange pleasantries. His eyes travel around your face, studying your features.

Seungmin isn’t dense, never judges anyone for their looks, but he finds your beauty to be the type subjected to photographs in art galleries. It’s one someone can spend forever admiring and analyzing and never get tired of.

Really pretty, he thinks as he extends a hand to shake yours.

A certain warmth envelopes him when he meets your hand.

“Here’s your film.” A bag is shoved in his general direction, and he grabs it and hugs it by his chest. And then, he’s forced to say his goodbye’s when Hyunjin’s attention shifts back to his own project.

Kim Seungmin sees you again a few weeks after your first encounter.

You’re crouched down on the sidewalk, paint smeared on your hands and clothes. You must be in the art department with Hyunjin, and something about that makes so much sense as Seungmin looks at you. You’re just the type of person to attract art, whether it’s because you create it or because you inspire it.

A closer look at you reveals your messy hair, blown-out by the wind, and a lopsided grin on your face as you call out to the small puppy just by the distance.

He feels the familiar twitch in his fingertips to take a photo. The sight he’s subjected to is too beautiful to not capture. If he took one quick enough, maybe you wouldn’t notice at all.

Seungmin seems to underestimate the actual distance between you and the loud shutter of his camera when he takes the photo. It’s not one of his best moments, and in the moment, he wishes the ground would just swallow him up so he didn’t have to deal with the consequences of his stupid behavior.

His face is already flush with embarrassment the moment you turn around to catch whatever had made that sound.

“Seungmin?” You remember his name, you actually remember his name, and god it couldn’t have sounded any sweeter. Does honey usually drip down the tone of your voice?

When you walk towards him with confusion etched in your face, Seungmin double backs. In the moment, he seriously considers standing in the middle of the road to meet his death instead of facing the embarrassment of explaining to you that he had just taken a photo of you because he thought the moment looked too pretty not to last forever.

He is all nervous laughter when you stop to stand in front of him, head tilted as you stare down at his camera. “Did you just take a photo of me?”

His own words tumble out of his mouth as he tries to explain himself. “Yes, and I’m sorry, I know I should’ve asked for per—“

“Can I see?”

“What?”

“The photo! Can I see it?” You look up at him with a smile, hands behind your back as you sway back and forth while waiting for his response. Only now does he notice the paint on your cheek and the flutter of your eyelashes and the specs of light in your eyes.

Oh god, his stomach doesn’t feel so great, having you look at him like that.

“Uh, sure. Of course!” He fumbles with his camera, clicking on a few buttons before pushing the camera towards you so you can see better. You nod your head, studying the photo before lifting your head back to look at him curiously.

“What’s this for?”

He gulps. “A project… for my class. I’m… I’m in the Photography Department.”

Nodding your head, you flash him another lopsided smile. “You take really pretty pictures. Photography suits you.”

He sends his own boyish, shy smile directed to you at your compliment, bowing slightly in thanks. You simply giggle, shaking your head and telling him you were just telling the truth.

“Can you take another one? I wasn’t aware you were gonna take one so my hair looked a little funny.” You point out, immediately flashing him a grin and a show of a peace sign as if waiting for him to snap a photo in that moment.

He does.

And since then, he has taken multiple photographs of you.

When you would see each other around, you would jokingly strike a pose, and he would take a photo. It’s one of the moments Seungmin treasures and looks forward to.

Usually, he would simply float through the days, unable to feel the ground beneath him, unable to quite tell the time. However, while his days were usually downcast, he finds a little ray of silver lining in the way you smile at him goofily while you readily pose for the camera.

The habit remains even when you meet each other at the Soul Cafe again, Hyunjin as the common friend.

He takes multiple photos of you and Hyunjin that day, some candid and some planned – but when you laugh with your head pulled back and your eyes tearing up just a little at a stupid joke, Seungmin has his camera down.

This sight, of you laughing wholeheartedly, is something he has to see with his own two eyes. He doesn’t think any lens or any photo could do the sight justice.

Hyunjin asks him to walk you home since your dorms are closer to each other, and he happily obliges.

The walk back is short, but it’s still time together, and that was enough for Seungmin.

“Goodnight, Seungmin. Let’s meet each other again!”

Seungmin blinks, unmoving from his position with his hand still lifted in the air from waving at you prior. Your words echo in his head again and again.

Let’s meet each other again.

You want to see him again soon, intentionally this time. You genuinely enjoy his company that you would like to meet him again. Somehow, it’s something Seungmin can’t fathom.

And then you laugh, and it’s a sound that cuts through years of loneliness.

Blood rushes to the tip of his ears, heat engulfing his entire being – a warmth similar to that when he had first met you. He can’t help but stare at you, unable to do or say anything by how dumbfounded he was at such simple words.

When you smile at him one last time, Seungmin can’t help but think that, of all the things that can be associated with love in this world, he thinks none of them quite does it justice like you do.

Seungmin ponders over your words and your shared interactions for the past few weeks on his way home. A gentle smile sits on his face, all because of you and your pretty smile and the brilliance that encompasses the entirety of you.

And then he hears it – quiet, and from a distance. The sound of a train whistle in the night, one so faint he can barely hear it. The clock starts ticking again, and he feels the ground he’s walking on beneath him.

“Oh.” Realization dawns on him, the nudge in his heart visible in his face.

“I see what the old lady means now.”

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harry-styles-obsessed · 3 months

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Request: hi! Please could you write something about y/n being Harry’s photographer?

Thank you for the request. Enjoy!(:

The photographer

When you first received the offer to become the Harry styles’ photographer you were excited— nervous of course. But extremely excited. He had been your inspiration for many years, ever since you were little. His prior photographers were used in your college photography class. Studying their projects and their amazing photography of the gorgeous green eyed man. But yet here you were now camera wrapped around your neck, sat on your bed truly debating your life decisions. You should’ve known this was a bad idea… harry was charming and sweet exactly how he was on stage and in interviews. Sweet, lovely, compassionate, funny… you should’ve known he would capture your heart in more than just one way.

You silently looked through the pictures you had taken last night, admiring each one, admiring how beautiful he was in the photos you took. It was almost a fan girl moment for you as you remained sat on your bed cross legged. You had now been his photographer for six weeks and each day that passed grew more exciting. It opened your eyes to so many things… but it also alerted you to the fact that he still made your heart race. You were currently in Harry’s tour bus the chatter of the band being heard— Harry often times just stayed in a hotel close to the place he was performing at. You believed it was managements doing as they had, had a few times where stalkers had attempted to break into the tour bus to get a quick photo with Harry styles. It left the man shaken.

“Y/n!”

A sudden voice called. Mitch. “Mitch” you responded back calmly, keeping your eyes on the camera before the curtain was pulled firmly to the right Mitch lowering down to look into your bunk his eyes locking onto you still flicking through the pictures “hey.” You finally looked up smiling “hi.” He rolled his eyes playfully “Sarah and I are headed to grab some lunch, you want anything?” You paused momentarily thinking to yourself before eventually shaking your head “no thanks. Thank you for the offer though.” Mitch only smiled, closing the curtain for you again as you heard multiple footsteps leave the tour bus. You sighed softly continuing to flick through the pictures you took. About ten minutes passed before you heard movement come from the living room of the bus— you hesitantly poked your head out cautiously staring at where the sound came from but saw nothing. Weird.

You however then shook it off, instead getting up off of your bunk drawing the curtain closed quietly as you began moving towards the sound camera dangling against your stomach as you cautiously made your way towards the sound but you saw no one and nothing. You were almost certain someone was playing a trick on you until all of a sudden you heard an abrupt and loud sound followed by a few mumbled obscenities your eyes sliding towards the culprit yet as your eyes fell upon the person your mouth got dry as bone. Harry stood facing the desk in the room, the sound of the crash being a bunch of pleasing nail polishes strewn all over the place— some on the floor, and the others all around him but that wasn’t what got your attention… no. But rather his back. Shoulder blades sharp. Skin slightly tanned, tattoos littering up and down his arms taking your breath away… he was in full view. All for you to take in…

Your hands trembled slightly as you silently flicked your camera on, bringing the view finder up to your eye as you focused the lens on harry before snapping the picture your breath hitching in your throat as you stared at the image you had just captured.

He was literally perfect. His skin glowing in the dim light, your lips parting in utter admiration. He was beautiful. As you remained staring at the picture you failed to notice the sound of footsteps silently getting closer to you, until eventually you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat making your head snap up your eyes widening as you came face to face with Harry— amusement flickering in his eyes, green eyes warm and soft the amusement growing. “Oh- harry- hi…” you smiled sheepishly, Harry tilting his head slightly as he smirked down at you dimples appearing “kind of creepy sneaking around so quietly. Don’t you think? You’ve always got that camera in your hands… I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me.” Harry’s words were teasing, playful, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you couldn’t help but blush.

“That’s quite an accusation, harry.” You murmured blushing harshly watching as he stretched one hand out to grab a hold of the camera slowly lifting it from your hand, pulling the strap over your head before he clicked on the small photograph icon the picture you had snapped immediately popping up. “Hm…” you could feel the tension grow. You had always felt some sort of attraction to him which always made the tension between the both of you almost impossible to ignore. “There’s a slight wave in this picture” he spoke, eyes finding yours as he smiled slightly “usually your hands are so steady, y/n.” You felt your heart race watching as he flicked through multiple photos noticing the difference from the ones on stage to the one just now… it was clear your hands weren’t steady just a moment ago. Harry wasn’t often to mess with you or even tease you, but he couldn’t help himself…

“Do I make you nervous, y/n.”

His words made your cheeks flush red a shaky breath leaving your lips “what— no…” you spoke avoiding eye contact Harry letting out a small chuckle “look me in the eyes and tell me that.” His words were playful, yet the way he told you demanding you to look at him it awoke something within you “harry—“ “look me in the eyes and tell me…” your eyes slowly flicked up to meet his an almost cocky smirk on his beautiful face “you…. You make me nervous.” You spoke without even thinking. “Is that so?” He asked closing the space between the two of you as he gazed down at you your eyes remaining on his as he got closer and closer until there was almost no room to breathe normally. You held your breath staring into his eyes the cockiness on his face soon being wiped off as he stared at you— your eyes searching his your breath remaining to be held as his slender fingers touched lightly against your hips “do-do you want help painting your nails?” You asked quietly feeling a different tension now surround you both.

“I would… but I think you’d be trembling too much to paint them in a straight line.” He spoke a soft chuckle leaving his lips as your eyes searched his and his eyes searched yours before eventually his hand trailed up to cup your cheek thumb brushing against your cheek as you watched as he leaned in towards you— lips inches away from touching, your breath shaking- chest raising and falling quickly—

“We’re back!!” A voice shouted Harry immediately pulling away the warmth he provided you for those few moments drove you wild your eyes remaining wide as you stared at him before he casually placed the camera back back around your neck his eyes searching yours before he cracked a smile before focusing back on Sarah who handed him what was most likely fish and chips her forcing the same thing into your hands. “Sarah I told you not to” you whined the kind woman shrugging and grinning “too late.” She spoke, everyone bidding Harry goodbye Harry waving at you as he went to leave before pausing multiple nail polishes gripped in his free hand “oh and y/n..” you nodded at him to continue “can you send me that picture?” You felt your heart skip a beat and you smiled, biting down on your lower lip “you’ll have to earn it, styles” you spoke the look flashing across Harry’s face being slight confusion which was soon turned into amusement before he chuckled shaking his head “oh I’ll earn it.”

The concert was about twenty minutes away and you were walking into the stadium, ‘HS photographer’ lanyard wrapped around your neck as you snapped a few photos of fans dressed in their brightly coloured outfits before you made your way towards backstage— entering the building that was busy filled with people working, making sure the microphones were working but also checking the sound of all the instruments. You said hi to a few people continuing to take random pictures until eventually entering your dressing room only for the door you came through slam shut, forcing you to turn around on your heels your eyes finding Harry’s. He didn’t say anything, he was wearing his outfit for that night— a purple dungarees set… he looked fucking magical. He slowly walked towards you steps intimidating and dangerous as he studied your face walking towards you one time watching you take a step back every time. Exactly what he wanted until you were eventually up against the wall trapped between the wall and Harry, your lips parted in awe as the man studied your every reaction a small smirk tugging at his lips before he without even hesitating grabbed your hips tightly the fierce grip making your knees weak as he kissed you deeply, the kiss full of fire and heat as he kept a tight grip on you— your lips moulding together with his perfectly as he kissed you deeply your hands touching against him gently and hesitantly, touching from his arms, tracing his tattoos and up his skin and to his hair tugging lightly as you both messily made out for what seemed like hours… time passed far too quick for your liking… your lips slightly red and swollen from his kissing— him pulling away from you making you frown. Wanting him close again as he tightened his grip on your waist peering down at you as the crowd screamed the starting music for ‘music for a sushi restaurant’ starting up a glow forming in Harry’s eyes as he smirked at you, his hands stroking up and down your hips delicately his touch igniting a heat within you making you want to do anything and everything for him….

“Have I earned it yet?”

He questioned a smirk playing on his lips watching as you mindlessly nodded your head his smile growing “good…” he gave your hips one last squeeze before heading towards the dressing room door where he opened the door the screams growing louder, before he turned back to look at you “don’t go back to the tour bus..” he spoke your brows arching in slight confusion “come back to my hotel room.” Your brows raised slightly “w-what…?”

“You heard me… besides I’m sure you’ll take great photos tonight. I want to see them all.” He spoke with a devilish smirk a sharp breath leaving your lips and he let out a low chuckle…

“We can take more pictures tonight too…” your eyes widened slightly “harry!” “Y/n.” He smirked laughing “I’m being serious. If you aren’t in my room by the end of the night then I’ll come drag you there myself.” He spoke before exiting the room making your breath hitch… no way that just happened. Your fingers touched against your lips as you smiled like an idiot, he had truly awoken a different side of you…. You weren’t ever desperate for anyone… but Harry made you desperate. You were drunk on him already and he hadn’t even done anything… you were only the photographer but clearly you were about to become so much more.

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solitarydemise · 1 month

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Somebody's Watching Me

!StalkerEddie !FemReader

Summary:It's your second year in college and the stranger at your school is your secret stalker.

Warnings:Stalking,home invasion,smoking

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

While you were studying,your phone ringed and an unknown number was calling you. You would never answer these calls before,but you had a lot of acquaintances at school and since you were in charge of most of the activities,other students was calling you often. You answered the phone "Hello." there was nothing from the other end. Thinking there might be a line outage,you repeated "Hello?" there was no sound again. You just knew that the other person was a man. Because he was breathing with a deep voice,he was doing it intensely.You stayed silent for a few seconds and hanged up the phone and looked at the time. It was almost your bedtime and you got up from your desk and walked towards your window. There was a bus stop right in front of your house and a man was sitting at bench. You didn't care because it wouldn't be right to watch someone on the street through your window. You closed your curtains and walked towards your bed.

You almost had a nervous breakdown while getting ready for school at next morning. You couldn't find the black blouse you always wore. It was a rather small and thin piece and would often get lost among your other clothes. You would have been late for school if you kept looking for that blouse,so you grabbed another shirt and quickly walked to the bathroom.

"I was almost going to cry!" Jessica laughed at you "Don't exaggerate,it's just a blouse." You looked at her and sat down at one of the tables in the cafeteria "Yeah,but it's annoying losing my stuff especially when I'm about to be late Jess" you said. Every year there was a student passport photo shoot at your school,and today was one of those days. After the meal,you and Jessica went to the area where you would take photos and started waiting in line. Students in the photography club were taking your photos,and they also took care of the album for each graduating year. When it was your turn, you sat on the small stool and fixed your hair. There was a long-haired boy you'd never seen before,you couldn't even see his face properly because he put the camera viewfinder to his eye as you sat down.

He took your picture a few times and you blinked involuntarily when the flash went off. He moved the camera away from his eye and looked at the photo "I'm so sorry my eyes are very sensitive." you said. "It's okay" he spoke as he adjusted the lens without looking at you. You could barely hear his voice,you looked at his hands as he readjusted his camera. He had a tattoo and a chain bracelet. Afterwards he took the picture again. You stood up from the chair and when you looked at the boy again,you couldn't see his face again, his long hair was covering his face when he bowed his head. After Jessica got on the bus,you put on your headphones and started walking home. Two of you had homes in different places and you lived quite close to the school. You and Jessica had lost track of time in the library and it was already dark.

Spring was coming and the weather was very nice. When you saw the cats next to the garbage,you walked towards it and took out the cat food that was always in your bag. The cats were starting to come to you and you smiled "Mommy is here" You bent down and started feeding the cats. Your headphones were still on and after a few seconds,you quickly looked back because of the strange and scary feeling you felt behind you. There was no one around,whenever you went for a walk alone you had the feeling that someone was following or watching you. Even though a few minutes had passed,you couldn't shake that uncomfortable feeling and you decided to leave.

When you came home,you were face chatting with Jessica and cooking at the same time. You opened your window and curtains to prevent the smell of oil. A few minutes later,you paused with the flash light coming from outside. "What the fuck was that?" Jessica asked "What?" while you continued to look outside "There was a light coming from outside, could someone have taken my photo?" you said with fear. Jessica laughed “Why would anyone take your photo?” you closed your curtains "I don't know". "It must be a UFO" Jessica said. Jessica liked to joke about things like this,but you knew this situation was nothing like that. Whenever you were under such a stress like that,something came out from under. That night,you couldn't concentrate on anything because of that stress and fell asleep while watching a movie.

When you woke up,you realized you already missed class time. You got angry at yourself and got up from your bed while swearing. You were already late for school so you took a shower,got dressed and went out to enjoy your day. There was a beautiful park near your house and you exercised there every weekend. Since you slept late last night,you were only going for a run today. While you were jogging through the trees with your headphones on,you couldn't take away that feeling inside you. Your neighborhood was not that safe place and had to be cautious of everything. At the same time,you were thinking about the fact that maybe these were your ridiculous theories. Music couldn't relax you so you called your sister. You were running at a fast pace while continuing to talk with her. After a few minutes,you got tired and sat down on one of the benches and continued talking to your sister. At that time you were just talking to your sister,unaware that dozens of photos of you were being taken.

1 Week Later

This year's albums are almost ready to be released. Members of each club had their photos taken, but no one showed up for the music club you were in. Sam put down the guitar he was holding and looked at you "You should ask the photographers,they missed us" You looked at Sam "But I don't know any of them". "There's a darkroom downstairs next to the lab." Emma said. You took a deep breath, "Okay, I'll ask one of them."

After your rehearsal was over,you went to the place Emma described and found the room used by the photographer students. You walked in without letting much light in and looked around. Everywhere was red,it was a very interesting place but there was no one there. While the students were away,you started to look around more closely. You went to the corner of the room and were horrified when you looked at the photos hanging on small pegs. They were all your photos,from a few months ago or even 5 months ago. While cooking in the kitchen, feeding the cats,relaxing in the park and jogging,changing your clothes.Your head was starting to spin and your body was getting hot, you held on to the table next to you because you felt like you were going to faint,your stomach was starting to feel nauseous. Anxiety was taking over your entire body. A few seconds later,the door opened. White asnd red light mixed together. The last thing you remember was a boy approaching you,you had a panic attack and fainted.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Pt.2 is soon♡♡

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddiemunsonx #eddie munson x female reader #stalker

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olee · 5 months

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Unexpected | Angus Tully

For my bestie: @babybluebex

It was Christmas once again, and you found yourself alone. Your parents, deeply involved in “work” in Kenya, left you in your Salem Academy. The company of Mrs. Wheatley, a history teacher you disliked, was your only companionship. Despite her questionable claim of graduating from Yale, spending time with her has revealed a captivating side. On Christmas Day, exhausted from Mrs. Wheatley's insistence on avoiding outsiders, you shared a cold sandwich in the school kitchen. Unexpectedly, she mentioned the need to meet a friend in Boston, and soon, you agreed to a two-night trip, eager to escape the confines of your current surroundings.

Swiftly, you packed your belongings and hopped into Mrs. Wheatley's minivan, the sound of Led Zeppelin filling the air. Surprisingly, Mrs. Wheatley, usually in a sour mood during classes, transformed into a seemingly bohemian woman for this trip, even swapping her scarf. You couldn't help but speculate that her change in demeanor might be connected to meeting a "friend" – perhaps a crush. She shared that this friend was a history teacher at Barton Academy, a school your late brother had attended. The connection added an unexpected layer to the journey.

Upon your arrival, Mrs. Wheatley had arranged for you both to stay at a charming hotel in the heart of Cambridge. While you were still settling in, Mrs. Wheatley expressed a desire to visit a museum, a proposition that you reluctantly agreed to. Upon arriving at the museum, Mrs. Wheatley quickly conversed about the art and pottery on display while you followed her around, trying to appear engaged. As you looked around, your attention was suddenly diverted towards a young man walking down the hallway, accompanied by a man who seemed to be his father. You couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Wheatley discreetly checked her appearance and scent before making a beeline for the man.

As she hugged him tightly, you felt awkward, especially when you noticed the young man looking at you curiously, who appeared to be a student like you. However, you couldn't help but compliment Mrs. Wheatley on how nice she smelled, to which she thanked you before introducing you to her friend, Mr. Hunham, and his student, Angus, who he was in the custody of.

As Mrs. Wheatley and Mr. Humham were having a cringe-worthy and uncomfortable conversation, you looked at Angus and noticed that he recognized your expression. You both decided to leave the adults alone and went for a walk through the museum.

As you and Angus walked through the art gallery, you both suddenly stopped in front of an unusual Greek painting. The artwork depicted a naked man, and you couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as you gazed at it. You both stood there in silence for a moment, examining the painting's intricate details. The awkwardness of the situation was palpable, but then Angus broke the silence with a blunt remark, "Shit of painting." You couldn't help but chuckle at his comment and responded with a witty quip, "Classic. Maybe that should be the title." You exchanged a knowing look before moving on to the next painting in the gallery:

Angus: (smirking) “Well, it pushed something, that's for sure. (pauses) Hey, let's ditch Mrs. Wheatley and Mr. Hunham and grab some food. I'm starving.”

You: “Good idea. I'm hungry, too. How about pizza?”

Angus: “Pizza sounds perfect. Lead the way!”

After leaving the museum, you and Angus found a cozy pizzeria nearby. The warm aroma of freshly baked pizza greeted you as you entered, providing a comforting contrast to the cold December air outside. The two of you settled into a booth, the atmosphere lightening as you chatted about everything from school to favorite bands.

As you savored each bite of pizza, Angus shared stories about his life at Barton Academy. He mentioned his passion for photography and his desire to capture the essence of different cultures through his lens. Intrigued, you opened up about your interests, discovering unexpected similarities and shared experiences.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, hours had passed. The initial awkwardness from the museum encounter now seemed like a distant memory. Angus's genuine laughter and easygoing nature had a way of putting you at ease.

After finishing the pizza, you both decided to walk through the nearby park. The city lights illuminated the night sky, creating a magical ambiance that enchanted the ordinary park. The crunch of snow beneath your feet added a serene soundtrack to your impromptu adventure.

As you walked and talked, you couldn't help but appreciate the unexpected joy this unplanned Christmas trip had brought. The loneliness you had felt at the boarding school was now replaced with the warmth of newfound friendship. Angus, too, seemed grateful for the escape from his routine, and you both relished in the moment's spontaneity.

Eventually, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, gazing at the stars overhead. The night's stillness allowed for a peaceful reflection on the twists and turns of fate that had brought you and Angus together.

As the night drew close, you and Angus decided to head back to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, you bid goodnight to Angus, grateful for the unexpected friendship that had blossomed. Mrs. Wheatley engrossed in her conversation with Mr. Hunham, smiled knowingly as you returned.

#angus tully #dominic sessa #the holdovers #fanfic

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memoriesndew · 2 months

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hobbies that you can start this new year ft hobby tracker notion template pink

As we dive into the year, now is the ideal moment to discover new interests that bring us joy, creativity, and personal growth. Whether you want to relax, go on an adventure, or simply broaden your horizons, there is a pastime for you. Here are ten intriguing hobbies to consider for the new year:

Photography: Using a camera lens, capture the beauty of your surroundings. Whether you enjoy landscape, portrait, or macro photography, there are limitless opportunities for creativity and investigation.

Pilates: is an adaptable and efficient fitness regimen that provides a rewarding pastime option that fits into every schedule. Pilates classes, which emphasize strength, flexibility, and mindfulness, can be brief but effective, relieving stress and boosting overall well-being. In my opinion, pilates truly focuses the body in a soothing but powerful way. Overall, I like it.

Writing: allows you to express yourself creatively. Whether you're into journaling, fiction, poetry, or nonfiction. Writing is something I really enjoy doing. I've written poetry and begun a novel, but I constantly get sidetracked and fall off course, which is why I built the hobby tracker to help me focus on writing, which is one of my goals for the second quarter of the new year. Writing might be as simple as making cute notes, but it is quite fun and relaxing

DIY crafts: allow you to exhibit your creativity while also decorating your space. From knitting and crocheting to woodworking and painting, crafting is such a productive way to spend your time, and I really enjoy the sense of completing a craft; it feels very satisfying.

Learning a Musical Instrument: To channel your inner rockstar, learn to play a musical instrument. Mastering a musical instrument, whether it's the guitar, piano, or ukulele, can be both tough and incredibly rewarding, and the music itself is simply lovely.

Cooking or Baking: A lot of people see cooking as a chore but it's so relaxing, in the quiet of your kitchen or better yet with your friends just imagine baking, cleaning up, and eating with the people you love; it all sounds so relaxing and it can really help in the future in the instance you get really good and might even pursue it as a career.

Nature Walks: Walking not only provides wellness but also allows you to explore amazing landscapes and reconnect with nature. Walking is one of the most therapeutic forms of exercise because it allows you to think and connect with yourself, and it is really peaceful.

Vlogging: For me, vlogging is more of a nostalgic activity because I enjoy going back and seeing my development and what I've been up to, but your vlogs can also be shared with the world via YouTube, TikTok, or any other site. It is a very good approach to capture memories.

Collecting: collecting merch or just anything you find interesting can be considered a hobby. For example, I want to collect Archie comics because I see a lot of people collecting manga and how it fills their shelves is so cool, I want mine to be Archie comics because I just like them and it connects with my childhood self. You can collect anything really, from toys to albums; it just has to be something you love.

Ice skating: is a thrilling and graceful hobby that offers both physical and mental benefits. Whether you're gliding gracefully across the ice or perfecting your spins and jumps, ice skating provides a fun and rewarding way to stay active and express yourself. i think it is fun

A lot of times we lose track of our hobbies and sometimes they seem too much and overwhelming so here is a futional hobby tracker to keep track of your hobbies and also add anyone you might want to dive into in the future.

You can find it through the link below.

Hobby Tracker - the notion nest 's Ko-fi Shop

that’s all for today bye my dew drops..

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merylstreepsworld · 9 months

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Exploring Desires

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem!reader

Word count: 1,361

Summary: Miranda Priestly finds herself irresistibly drawn to you. So she finds ways to cope and explore herself.

Warning: Self pleasure

You never expected to find yourself in the world of high fashion photography, yet here you were, standing on a bustling studio set, camera in hand, working on a shoot for none other than Miranda Priestly's Runway magazine. It was a surreal experience, to say the least, and one that had brought its own set of challenges and pressures. From the moment you had been assigned to this shoot, you couldn't help but notice the enigmatic figure that was Miranda Priestly. Her presence was magnetic, her every word and gesture commanding the attention of everyone around her. She was as formidable as she was legendary, a true force in the fashion industry.

As a photographer, your focus had always been on capturing the essence of the models and the designs they wore. However, with Miranda on set, your lens seemed to gravitate toward her more often than not. There was something about her that drew your attention, an inexplicable allure that you couldn't ignore.

You watched as she moved with effortless grace, her sharp eyes surveying every detail of the shoot. She had an uncanny ability to detect the slightest imperfection and demand perfection with a single glance. It was both intimidating and awe-inspiring.

Days turned into weeks, the first shoot ended and another began with the precision and dedication that was expected of a Runway production. You found yourself working closely with Miranda, discussing shots and angles, striving to capture her vision. The more time you spent in her presence, the more you felt an unspoken connection between you two. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for Miranda, though it left you feeling conflicted. She was your boss, a legendary figure in the fashion world, and you were just a photographer trying to make a name for yourself. The idea of anything beyond a professional relationship seemed impossible and unwise.

Miranda, too, was grappling with unfamiliar emotions. She had built her career on control and precision, and yet, something about you had disrupted her carefully constructed world. She couldn't understand why she found herself seeking your company, why she was drawn to your presence on set.

As the days of the fashion shoot progressed, Miranda found herself inexplicably drawn to you, the photographer assigned to capture her vision. It began as a mere curiosity, an acknowledgment of your talent behind the lens. But soon, something deeper stirred within her, something she couldn't quite fathom.

However, as time passed, the attraction grew, gnawing at her from the inside. She would catch herself stealing more than just glances, her eyes lingering on you for longer moments than deemed necessary. It was unsettling, this uncontrollable desire that seemed to have taken root in her heart. Miranda had always been in control of her emotions, her desires, her entire existence. But this... this was different. This was consuming her every waking thought, turning her into a person she didn't recognize. She found herself daydreaming about you, about the moments you shared on set, about the warmth of your smile and the sound of your laughter.

Miranda's days were consumed by the demands of her high-powered career, her responsibilities at Runway magazine, and the enigma of her growing attraction to you, the photographer who had become an irresistible presence in her life. Yet, it wasn't just her waking hours that were plagued by thoughts of you.

Nights became a battleground where her desire for you waged war with her carefully cultivated control. Alone in her opulent bedroom, she would lie in the darkness, her thoughts invariably drifting toward you. The memory of your laughter, your smile, and the way your eyes met hers across the studio would haunt her.

Her hands wandered further, fingertips dipping beneath the edge of her silk robe to explore the contours of her chest. Miranda's breath hitched as she imagined your hands taking their place, your fingers gently teasing and tantalizing her, igniting a fervor she could no longer deny.

With the grace of a seasoned seductress, she began to trace a path of arousal upon her own skin, her fingertips caressing the sensitive spots that ignited her most profound desires. The gentlest of touches would send ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, as if your phantom hands were guiding her. Her breath grew labored and uneven as she continued to surrender to the vivid images in her mind. Miranda's lips, once so cool and poised, now trembled with the ghostly sensation of your kisses. She longed for the sensation of your mouth upon hers, the taste of your passion igniting her senses.

As her desire surged, her hands ventured lower still, slipping beneath the soft fabric of her lingerie. The delicate lace yielded to her touch, granting her access to the secret world of her desire. She let out a shuddering breath as her fingers explored the heated intimacy she so craved. In the throes of her self-discovery, Miranda's hands became a reflection of the passion that burned within her. She imagined your presence beside her, your shared desire merging with her own, and the thought of your touch only fueled the intensity of her pursuit.

It was in these stolen moments of vulnerability that Miranda began to acknowledge the depth of her attraction to you, a realization that left her both exhilarated and bewildered. And as her fantasies melded with reality, she couldn't help but wonder if one day she would dare to bridge the chasm that separated them, to seek the fulfillment of her desires in your arms.

And yet, even in the midst of this internal struggle, she couldn't stay away. Miranda found herself seeking your company, craving your presence on set, yearning for those stolen moments when you were alone together. It was as if an invisible force had taken control, pushing her to the brink of her carefully constructed life. It was a tumultuous journey for Miranda, one she couldn't share with anyone. She was a woman who had always been in command of her world, but now she was navigating uncharted territory, and it both fascinated and terrified her. She questioned herself, her actions, her motives.

One evening, as the shoot wrapped up for the day, you found yourself alone with Miranda in the studio. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken tension, a palpable connection that neither of you could ignore. She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for answers, for clarity.

"I can't explain it," she admitted, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "There's something about you that... intrigues me."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of emotions that mirrored her own. "I feel it too," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. Miranda took a step closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. Her lips met yours in a passionate kiss, a fusion of desire and uncertainty. In that moment, the barriers that had separated you both came crashing down, and you surrendered to the magnetic pull of your attraction.

As the days turned into weeks and your affair with Miranda continued in secret, you both found solace and passion in each other's arms. It was a love affair that defied reason and defied expectations, a whirlwind of desire and longing that neither of you had anticipated.

But with each stolen moment together, you both knew that something had changed. Miranda, the epitome of control, had found herself consumed by a love that was anything but predictable. And you, the photographer thrust into the world of high fashion, had found a love that was both exhilarating and tumultuous.

Together, you navigated the complexities of your hidden romance, finding moments of happiness and intimacy amidst the chaos of the fashion world. It was a love affair that would forever alter the course of your lives, leaving an indelible mark on your hearts and souls.

In the end, you couldn't explain the attraction that had brought you together, but you both knew that it was a force too powerful to resist. And as you looked into each other's eyes, you realized that love, in all its unpredictable and inexplicable forms, was a force that could not be denied.

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly x reader

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lallelol · 4 months

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So i recently found out that people could make colored pictures back in the days where you only had black and white photography at your disposal, using a process called

Trichromatic Photography

https://shootitwithfilm.com/trichromatic-photography/

You basically put red, green, and blue filters in front of the camera lens, snap 3 different b/w pics with each filter, and if you were using a projector you could project the red-coded b/w image through another red filter, same for green, same for blue, allign the projections, and boom. Color.

Which sounds a lot like the Screen / Addition effect on digital programs

So i tried it myself, and instead of using a b/w camera with a color filter over it and then tinting the image with that color (as you could do with Multiply? Probably), i just used LEDs

and i know this isn’t uncharted territory, but boi

Original:

Trichromatic Addition:

Using Screen effect on the red, green, and blue images, and switching the combinations of visible/invisible layers:

The pics do suck and they are very poorly aligned, but this makes for such a cool chromatic aberration

I think I’ll keep using it for pics, honestly it’s just fun stuff to make

Before you wonder, the colors aren’t very well balanced, but my wall is in fact pink

#tutorials #art tutorial #photography #trichromatic photography #photography editing #editing #chromatic aberration #chromatic #trigun #vash trigun #wolfwood #trigun wolfwood #trigun vash #vash and wolfwood #vashwood #tutorial

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lealdern · 7 months

Note

VAMPIRE TIM NSFW!

Thank you for the ask, here is some Vampire!Tim with fem reader with vagina.

Flash

vampire!TimDrake / fem!reader / sexual photography / nsfw 18+

You hear the click, as though it’s distant and far off but you know the source of it is right next to your head as Tim bows over you, fangs caressing your throat as you bare yourself to him.

The flash sends white across your closed eyelids and you whine as Tim pulls back from your neck, “Open your eyes darling, let me see those beautiful eyes… That’s it.” You open your eyes and he’s above you, red eyes darkly intent on your face, as his thumb rubs across your bottom lip. “Look at the camera,” he turns your head with the press of his hand and you look to the tripod set up at the end of the bed. He times you perfectly, thrusting deeply at the same time as he sinks his fangs into your neck, and the click and flash of the camera and light punctuate your gasp. He knows when he pulls up the pictures on his computer later you will look perfect, mouth open and eyes glazed, looking beyond the lens.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your throat after drinking deep enough that you feel a little light headed, vaguely aware of the wet sounds your cunt is making as he pushes deeper with each thrust; the angle of your raised knee opening you deeper now as he pushes at your thigh.

“Tim,” you breathe, and he hushes you with a kiss, bloody lips smearing across yours. His hand slips between you both to rub across your clit and you buck, eyes rolling at the sensitive press of it. You can’t come again, it’s not possible, but Tim wants it and he’ll take it, just as he pulled the others from you. He does it so easily, so familiar with your body, each orgasm punctuated by the sound of a camera and the flash of a bulb.

He can’t wait to see the pictures he’s taken, your body in extasy, as though held and fucked by an invisible lover.

Like everything else in his un-life, Tim is thorough.

“A few more, darling,” he rolls your nipple between his fingers as his thrusting picks up and you shudder, “just a few more.”

#Tim Drake x reader #Tim Drake/reader #Tim Drake reader #Red Robin x reader #Red Robin/reader #Red Robin reader #halloween drabble #my writing #vampire!tim x reader

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bloodylullaby · 8 days

Text

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Morrigan's ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of Bad Omens, stumbles upon her quaint little shop adorned with her captivating photography. Intrigued by her talent and drawn to her genuine spirit, Noah invites Morrigan to capture the essence of his band's concert through her lens. Their initial friendship blossoms into a deep and meaningful connection as they spend time together, fueled by their shared love for art and music. Despite their challenges as their worlds collide, Morrigan and Noah navigate the complexities of fame and intimacy, ultimately finding solace and strength in each other's arms. Through their journey from strangers to lovers, they discover that amidst life's chaos, true beauty lies in the simple moments shared between two souls destined to be together.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OC

Word Count: 4379

Content Warning: Drinking, Smut!!!!, Dom/Sub, Spitting, Oral (male and female)

Tag List: @thescarletvvitch @malerieee @lookwhatitcost @herbhuntress @thatgirlforever5 @xxkittenkissesxx @lma1986 @blackgirlmagicforever

Chapter Eleven

I woke up at nine this morning, feeling a surge of energy and excitement coursing through me. After the whirlwind of events over the last couple of days, my feelings for Noah grew, and the anticipation of seeing him again was unmatched. As I eagerly got dressed, I couldn't help but channel my excitement into my outfit choice. Opting for a small black dress paired with fishnet stockings and platform boots, I felt a sense of empowerment and readiness for whatever the day had in store for us.

With each step, my anticipation grew, fueled by the promise of new adventures and shared moments with Noah. Today would be special, and I was determined to make the most of every second spent in his company. My phone vibrated, and I looked down, seeing I had received a text from Jolly.

Jolly: Hey, we are meeting in the lobby in two minutes

Me: Okay, sounds good! I’ll be down there in less than one!

Jolly: How did your night with Noah go last night? ;)

Me: We just watched a movie and ate some food goof, nothing more.

Jolly: That’s not what he’s saying ;)

My cheeks grew hot as I read and re-read the text. Despite my attempt to brush off Jolly's teasing, his words lingered in my mind as I went down to the lobby, where the boys were already gathered. Our first stop of the day was a local restaurant for brunch, and the atmosphere was lively and cheerful. With two rounds of bottomless mimosas already making their way around the table, I couldn't help but feel content in the company of my friends. Today was shaping up to be another great day, and I never wanted it to end.

Our next stop was the zoo, and as we entered through the gates, I felt a surge of excitement. The vibrant colors, the sounds of exotic animals, and children's laughter filled the air, creating an atmosphere of wonder and curiosity. We spent hours wandering through the different exhibits, marveling at the diversity of wildlife from around the world. From majestic lions to playful monkeys swinging from tree to tree, each animal seemed to hold its own unique charm. As we explored, Noah's hand found mine, and we walked side by side, sharing smiles and whispered conversations.

I was the most excited when we reached the petting zoo area. Interaction with the animals up close filled me with childlike delight. I eagerly grabbed Bryan's camera, insisting he take pictures of me with the deer and capybaras, not wanting to let these precious memories slip away. With each camera click, I posed with broad smiles and outstretched hands, reveling in the joy of connecting with these gentle creatures.

Behind Bryan, I noticed Noah standing a few steps away, his gaze fixed on me with an equally broad smile. Our eyes met, and it was as if he could see straight into my soul, sharing the joy and excitement written across my face. I couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sight of his genuine expression. After our long but exhilarating day at the zoo, we decided to keep the fun going and headed to Dave & Buster's. The lively atmosphere of the arcade greeted us as we stepped inside, filled with the sounds of games and laughter.

We wasted no time diving into the array of arcade games, competing against each other in rounds of air hockey, racing simulations, and classic arcade games. The competitive spirit was contagious, and soon, we were all fully immersed in the excitement of the games, cheering each other on and celebrating every victory and close call. As the cheers for the games filled the air, so did the clinking of glasses and the laughter of friends. We indulged in rounds of drinks, each sip adding to the festive atmosphere of the evening.

As more rounds of drinks made their way to our table, I couldn't help but notice the hunger in Noah's gaze as his eyes lingered on me. With each sip of alcohol, I felt my inhibitions slipping away, replaced by a sense of playfulness. The more relaxed I became, the more I found myself teasing Noah, playfully egging him on with a mischievous glint in my eye. His reactions only fueled my teasing further, creating a playful dynamic between us that was both exhilarating and intoxicating.

As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow, our banter evolved into something more flirtatious, charged with an undeniable tension that seemed to linger in the air around us. With every playful exchange, a magnetic pull drew me closer to Noah, igniting a spark of desire that simmered beneath the surface. As I joined Jolly for a game of pool, I couldn't resist the urge to tease Noah. I made sure to lean over the table with calculated precision. I deliberately adjusted my position, ensuring my dress rode up just enough to offer him a tantalizing glimpse.

In those stolen moments, our eyes met, and I could see the flicker of desire mirrored in his gaze. It was a silent dance of seduction, a playful game of cat and mouse that only added to the growing tension between us. The group and I eventually returned to the hotel, laughter, and chatter filling the air as we rode the elevator to our floor. There was never a dull moment or a single second of silence as we recounted the day's highlights. As we made our way toward our respective rooms, I felt a sudden tug on my wrist, pulling me off course and into a nearby room.

Noah shuts the door behind him and locks it, turning around to lean his back against it. He looks at me with a mixture of amusement and something more intense. Suddenly, I feel small, heat rising not only to my cheeks but also to my core. "You know... you weren't as quiet as you thought you were on the phone the other night," he said, his eyes growing darker. My heart skips a beat at his words. His gaze is unwavering, making me feel both vulnerable and thrilled. He takes a step closer, the air between us charged with an unspoken tension.

“I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to act clueless. Noah tsked softly, stepping closer, causing me to take a step back instinctively. The room suddenly felt smaller as he closed the distance between us.

"Oh, I think you do," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His eyes never left mine, and I could feel my pulse quicken. Every step he took made my heart race faster, the anticipation building. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he continued, a sly smile on his lips. I took another step back, and the back of my legs hit the bed, causing me to fall backward onto it. As I quickly sat up, Noah leaned down so he was at eye level with me. His face was inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. The intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe, and I could feel the heat radiating off him as he whispered, "There's no need to pretend, you know."

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. Noah's proximity was overwhelming, his presence intoxicating. "What do you want from me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. His eyes softened momentarily as he gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"I want you to be honest with me," he said softly, his fingers lingering on my cheek. "No more hiding, no more pretending." His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the unspoken promise of something more profound.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "Alright," I said, my voice steadying. "No more pretending." The admission shifted something between us, the tension giving way to a sense of understanding and connection. Noah's smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine in a tender kiss. It was gentle at first, then more insistent, as if he was trying to convey all the emotions we had both kept hidden. I kissed him back, losing myself in the sensation, feeling his touch's warmth and his lips' softness.

We pulled apart, breathing heavily while staring into each other's eyes, silently confirming that we were ready to take things further. The moment's intensity hung between us, filled with unspoken promises and shared desires. Noah's hand cupped my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

"Before we go any further," he started to say with warmth in his voice, "I’m into some nasty shit, and I want you to know so we can go over some boundaries." Shock and excitement flooded into my system, my heart racing even faster.

"Okay," I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. "Let's talk about it."

Noah smiled, relieved by my response. "I want us to enjoy this and feel safe. So, let's take a moment to discuss what we're both comfortable with and set some clear boundaries." I nodded, feeling a little dizzy from the rush of emotions. I had a basic understanding of what I liked, but talking about it openly was intimidating. My mind raced with thoughts of what might come next, but I knew this conversation was necessary.

"I... I haven't talked about this much before," I admitted, my voice shaky but sincere.

"That's okay," Noah reassured me, his eyes gentle and understanding. "We can take it slow. Just tell me what you're comfortable with and curious about."

Taking a deep breath, I began to share my thoughts and feelings. “I—” I stopped mid-sentence, blushing hard. I diverted my gaze anywhere but where he was. He gently placed his thumb on my chin and redirected my gaze.

“There’s no need to be shy, sweetheart. I promise, whatever you’re about to say, I’m into it as well,” he said reassuringly.

Reassured by his words, I felt a surge of confidence. "Okay," I said, my voice a little steadier. “I may or may not like to be dominated and thrown around.”

A slow smile spread across Noah's face, his eyes darkening with interest. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice taking on a deeper, more seductive tone. "I'm more than okay with that."

His reaction sent a thrill through me, both nervous and excited. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed, moving closer. "What else, cutie?"

"Well, with that comes the whole dom and sub situation, so I like everything that comes along with that—spanking, praise, humiliation, to name a few," I stated, looking into his eyes. “I am also open to what you like. I'm willing to try different things."

He hummed in appreciation, his eyes sweeping over me thoughtfully. "I appreciate your honesty," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I enjoy being dominant, and I love seeing my partner's reactions to different sensations and experiences. We'll take it step by step, and if anything feels too much, just tell me."

I nodded, feeling more at ease with each passing moment. "Okay, I will."

`Noah's smile widened, and he leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue." Straightening my back, I did as he said eagerly. He put his hand on my cheek and then spit into my mouth. "Swallow," he lightly commanded.

I obeyed, feeling a thrill run through me at his words. The act sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes watched me closely, gauging my reaction and finding approval in my compliance.

"Good girl. You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice full of warmth and satisfaction. "Remember, you're safe with me. If you need to stop anytime, just let me know."

. "Okay," I said with a nod.

“Okay, what?” he asked

“Okay, Sir,” I replied with a red face.

"Good," he said, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. "Let's explore this together." He leaned in to kiss me again, this time deeper and more fervent, his hands roaming over my body, igniting a fire within me.

He pulled me up off the bed and began to discard my clothing, each piece dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Once I was fully naked, he slowly guided me back down onto the bed. As I sat, he knelt before me, his gaze intense and focused.

"Lay back," he commanded. I did as he said, feeling a rush of anticipation coursing through me. He lifted my legs over his shoulders, positioning himself between them. My breath caught as he ran his hands up my torso, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was both gentle and possessive, igniting a fire within me. He locked eyes and whispered, "This is my favorite part."

With that, he lowered his head between my thighs, his warm breath sending waves of pleasure through me. He lightly kissed my thighs while occasionally nipping at them, followed by a quick lick at those spots. As he slowly made his way to my core, my anticipation built, aching for his touch. I arched my back, gasping at the sensation as he began to explore me with his tongue, each touch sending me closer to the edge of ecstasy. His movements were deliberate and skilled, each flick of his tongue driving me wild with desire. I moaned, lost in the pleasure of his touch, my hands gripping the sheets beneath me while my thighs closed around his head, urging him closer.

He lifted his head as he inserted two fingers into me, eliciting a deep moan from my lips. “Not only do you taste incredible, but you're taking my fingers so well, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He then used his thumb to circle my clit, causing me to whimper in pleasure. He chuckled softly at my reaction, sending shivers down my spine. The combination of his fingers inside me and his thumb and tongue on my most sensitive spot sent waves of pleasure radiating through my body, each touch bringing me closer to the edge of bliss. I arched my back, pressing myself into his touch, craving more of the exquisite sensation he was providing. With each stroke of his thumb, I felt myself teetering on the brink of release, my breath hitching with anticipation of the ecstasy to come.

As his thumb continued its relentless stimulation, I felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening deep within me. My breaths came in shallow gasps, my body trembling with anticipation. Noah's touch was driving me to the brink of ecstasy, each stroke sending me closer to the edge. Sensing my impending release, Noah increased the pressure of his fingers, his movements becoming more urgent. I could feel the heat building within me, a wildfire of sensation threatening to consume me entirely. With one final, tantalizing stroke, I shattered into a million pieces, my climax crashing over me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name, my voice a symphony of pleasure, as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me.

"You did so well for me, baby," he cooed, his voice filled with admiration and affection. He gently pulled me up after peppering me with soft, slow kisses, steadying me with his strong embrace. "Get on your knees," he commanded softly, his tone both authoritative and tender. Feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation, I obeyed without hesitation, sinking to my knees before him. My heart raced with desire as I looked up at him through my eyelashes, my gaze filled with longing and anticipation.

He slowly undid his pants and took them off, along with his shirt, leaving him in only his boxers. While maintaining eye contact with me, he finally removed his boxers, his cock springing out free. One hand snaked into my hair, grabbing a handful of it, while the other gently stroked his cock. As precum oozed out of the tip, he brought it closer to my face, rubbing it on my lips, teasing me with the intoxicating sensation, and then slapping me with it.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured as he gently tapped my face with his cock. "Open up, baby. I want to see how well you can take me in with your mouth." I parted my lips with a shaky breath, eagerly anticipating his taste on my tongue. As I leaned forward, he guided himself into my mouth, his grip tightening in my hair as he let out a low groan of pleasure. The feeling of him filling my mouth sent a thrill through me, igniting a hunger I never knew I had.

I parted my lips with a shaky breath, eagerly anticipating his taste on my tongue. As I leaned forward, he guided himself into my mouth, his grip tightening in my hair as he let out a low groan of pleasure. The feeling of him filling my mouth sent a thrill through me, igniting a hunger I never knew I had. I took him in slowly, savoring every inch of his hardness as I slid my lips down his shaft. His cock throbbed against my tongue, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from deep within his throat. With each movement, I felt myself surrendering to the rhythm of our passion, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his heat against my lips.

I swirled my tongue around him, tracing the contours of his cock as I explored every inch of his length. His breath hitched in his chest, his fingers tightening in my hair as I teased him with gentle flicks and swirls. Each movement brought him closer to the edge, his arousal building with every passing moment.

Encouraged by his response, I increased the pressure of my suction, engulfing him with a hunger that matched his own. I took him deeper into my mouth, reveling in the feeling of him stretching me as I eagerly accepted all he had to give.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. You take this cock so well," he moans. His hips began to rock gently, matching the rhythm of my movements. I could feel the tension building within him, the urge to release coursing through his veins. His hand tangled in my hair, urging me to take him deeper. "Just like that," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "God, you look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth."

With each thrust, I could feel him getting closer, his muscles tensing, his breathing becoming more ragged. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder, swirling my tongue around the tip, drawing out a series of desperate moans from him. His hips bucked involuntarily, and he began to lose control.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. With one final, desperate thrust, he erupted, his body shuddering with the force of his release. I swallowed eagerly, savoring his taste, feeling the warm, salty essence coat my tongue. I continued to gently suck and lick, milking every last drop from him. Finally, I pulled back slowly, a satisfied smile on my lips, savoring his taste and the look of pure ecstasy on his face.

After he caught his breath, he pulled me up and effortlessly threw me over his shoulders. I squealed with surprise as he carried me to the bed and playfully tossed me onto the soft mattress, eliciting giggles. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he climbed on top of me, his hands resting on either side of my head. I looked up at him, my heart pounding with anticipation as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you're going to pray that you can walk afterward," he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw desire. His words sent a shiver of excitement coursing through me, anticipation building with each passing moment. I met his gaze, my eyes darkening with lust as I eagerly awaited his next move.

As our lips melded in an emotional embrace, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of his touch. His kisses were urgent and demanding, igniting a hunger deep within me. I responded with equal enthusiasm, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, craving more of him. With a low growl of desire, he pressed his body against mine, the hardness of his arousal evident against my skin. His hands roamed possessively over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explored every curve and contour.

I moaned into his mouth, my desire matching his, as I surrendered myself entirely to the overwhelming intensity of the moment. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me with each caress. With practiced skill, he began to explore my body, his lips trailing a path of kisses and gentle bites down the curve of my neck and along the swell of my breasts. I arched into his touch, my breath coming in ragged gasps as he teased and tormented me with his mouth.

Finally, Noah lifted my right leg and placed it over his shoulder, positioning himself between my thighs. With a deep, longing gaze, he lined himself up with my entrance, his hardness pressing against me. Slowly, he began to enter me, inch by inch, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of us. The sensation of him filling me wholly sent waves of ecstasy coursing through my body, each movement drawing us closer together. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with desperate hunger, craving more of him with every passing moment.

"Fuck baby, your pussy is taking this dick like a champ," he breathes. With each thrust, our desire's intensity fuels our passion's flames. We moved together in perfect harmony, lost in the rhythm of our bodies as we surrendered ourselves entirely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. The faster Noah went, the more intense the whimpering became, escaping from my lips in a chorus of pleasure that echoed throughout the room. The overwhelming sensation of his thrusts drove me to new heights of ecstasy, rendering me so loud that I had to cover my mouth to muffle the sounds of my pleasure.

"Does it feel good, hmm?" Noah's voice was a seductive whisper in my ear, sending shivers down my spine even as his movements continued to drive me wild with desire. "I love hearing how good this dick makes you feel, babydoll," he murmured, his words fueling the fire of our passion even further. His dirty talk only served to heighten my arousal, sending me spiraling even closer to the edge of oblivion. With each word, each thrust, I felt myself unraveling, lost in a haze of pleasure that consumed me entirely.

"Noah," I moaned, unable to contain my desire any longer. "Yes, yes, it feels so fucking good," I gasped, my words punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusting. Encouraged by my response, Noah's movements became more urgent and desperate as he chased his release.

His hands roamed over my trembling body, tracing every curve and igniting a fiery response from deep within. As they explored, eliciting desperate cries of pleasure, they paused at my neck, his grip tightening, sending a surge of exhilaration through me. I arched my back, seeking closer contact, yearning for the intensity of his touch. Each caress sparked a wildfire of sensation, consuming me entirely as I surrendered to the rapture of our connection. Lost in the dizzying whirlwind of our passion, I writhed beneath him, my senses ablaze with the intoxicating ecstasy of his embrace.

With each thrust, he drove me relentlessly toward the precipice of pleasure, his fervent encouragement echoing in my ears like a symphony of desire. The intensity of his words propelled me to greater heights of ecstasy, each sensation building upon the last until I felt like I was teetering on the edge of oblivion. And then, with a final, agonizingly slow thrust, we both reached the pinnacle of ecstasy. Our bodies collided in a tumultuous explosion of passion, waves of pleasure crashing over us in a crescendo that left us both gasping for air.

We clung to each other in the aftermath, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of our shared climax. Noah's breath was hot against my skin as he pressed gentle kisses to my neck, his hands tracing soothing patterns over my sweat-slicked skin. I sighed contentedly, feeling completely and utterly satisfied in his arms. It was moments like these when the world seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the two of us together, that I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Noah eased himself out of me, his touch gentle and tender as he caressed my skin. With a soft smile, he leaned down to press a series of soft kisses along my neck and collarbone, his lips warm against my skin. As he held me close, his arms wrapped protectively around me, I felt a profound sense of peace. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves.

"You did so incredibly well, baby," Noah murmured, his voice soft with affection, his eyes filled with tenderness as he looked deep into mine. His words, a gentle melody, wrapped around me like a warm embrace, soothing any lingering doubts or insecurities. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, spreading slowly across my face as I basked in the warmth of his praise.

The love and admiration in Noah's gaze filled me with a sense of peace and contentment, like the soothing embrace of a gentle tide. With a soft sigh, I nestled closer to him, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. I rested my head against his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. At that moment, enveloped in his arms, I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging, as if I had finally found my place in the world.

#bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian smut #bad omens cult

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