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nanaslutt · 6 months

Note

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.

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colleendoran · 1 year

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How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

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jeondesu · 22 days

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ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3

this is an old repost from my deleted blog !

��찬/BANG CHAN. chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.

리노/LEE KNOW. lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.

창빈/CHANGBIN. constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.

현진/HYUNJIN. treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.

한/HAN. he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.

필릭스/FELIX. the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.

승민/SEUNGMIN. thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.

아이엔/JEONGIN. very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x gn reader #bang chan fluff #lee know fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #felix fluff #seungmin fluff #jeongin fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Lilian Bond (The Old Dark House)—no propaganda submitted

Fay Wray (King Kong)— the original scream queen!! she started acting in silent comedies as a teenager and got her first big break when erich von stroheim cast her as the lead in the wedding march. her career started to take off starring in silent movies at paramount, and she survived the transition to sound smoothly - josef von sternberg’s weird proto-noir thunderbolt was one of her first sound films. she began to make horror movies in the early 1930s, such as doctor x and mystery of the wax museum, both filmed in beautiful two-strip technicolor (which looked like this if you're curious. i just think it's neat!), as well as the vampire bat, the most dangerous game, and of course the boy himself, king kong. a little on how she worked with her most famous costar: “Although Kong appeared huge, the full figure was a model covered with rabbit hair, standing only 18 inches tall, that was filmed one frame at a time by stop-motion photography artist Willis O'Brien and his crew. The 5ft 3in Wray only knew one part of the ape's body when she was grasped in an articulated 8ft long hand. Hence the title of her 1989 autobiography, On The Other Hand. ‘I would stand on the floor,’ she recalled, ‘and they would bring this arm down and cinch it around my waist, then pull me up in the air. Every time I moved, one of the fingers would loosen, so it would look like I was trying to get away. Actually, I was trying not to slip through his hand.’” (link)

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Fay Wray:

Actress prominently known for starring in horror, she was one of cinema's original "scream queens". She knocks it out of the park whenever she's with the horror genre, bringing a depth and likability to characters that would other be flat and boring characters.

An early scream queen, name me another woman who could look so beautiful while so disheveled and scared for her life

She was name-dropped not once but TWICE in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She's arguably the original Scream Queen.

#fay wray #lilian bond #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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heartofwritiing · 7 months

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We could make such a pretty picture

Paring: musicianbur x photographer!reader

Summary: you are lovejoy’s tour photographer and wilbur likes to tease you.

authors note: this is so rushed and unedited mostly just my stream of consciousness that popped into my head while i finish up the zombur fic! its almost done!!

warnings: fluff, short, flirting, a little suggestive maybe, i use a cringey (?) line idk take it as you will lmao, unedited!

“Make sure you get my good side darling.”

Before every show backstage, Wilbur would always tell you to quote: “get my good side” whatever that meant. It was impossible to get his bad side. Every angle Wilbur Soot always looked ethereal, and that had nothing to do with your photography skills.

You would gaze up at him from the pits, readily pointing your camera to capture any shot of him playing his heart out to the screaming fans behind you. Rightfully so, you couldn’t deny how good he looked up on that stage.

Skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, and the light eyeliner slightly smudged in the corners of his eyes. His lips pulled up in a smirk as he flipped his hair in a certain way when a beat dropped. It was undeniable now, that he was doing this on purpose. He was goddamn attractive and he knew it.

After the show you would always sit in one of the green room chairs, keeping to yourself and letting the excitement of the after-show buzz from the band fill the room. You were scrolling through the photos, admiring your work on a picture of Ash with the lightning just right when you felt a presence creep up behind you.

“That ones quiet good,” Wilbur’s voice made you jump out of your skin, and he laughed at your startled state.

“Thanks,” you replied, returning to scrolling through your pictures but Wilbur stayed right by your shoulder. Sounds of his bandmates laughter filled the space, he couldn’t care to jump into their conversation. Too entranced by your photography. Wilbur had never truly seen your work before. Of course there was pictures the band used for the instagram account, but those were taken by their previous photographer.

You were new, and Wilbur had briefly seen your work before. Only two shows into the tour, you didn’t have the time to sit with the lead singer and exhibit your entire portfolio to hkm. But seeing how you captured his presence on stage so well, with the white strobe light hitting him at just the right angle, caused his interest to be peaked even further. It made him want to get to know you better.

“you know, we make such a pretty picture,” you can hear the deviousness in his voice and the underlying meaning behind his own lyrics he was using towards you. It warms your cheeks and you avoid his eyes that are burning into the side of your face.

You cleared your throat and repositioned yourself in your seat. “whatever you say, its all you up there on that stage,”

The next night, standing once more in the pits, camera ready as the first chords of 'Portrait of a Blank Slate' blasted through the venue speakers, and screams exploded around you. As the color lights switch from dark blue to deep red, Wilbur saunters to the microphone and begins singing the first lyrics.

You lift your camera up to your face and look through the viewfinder to be met with an up-close Wilbur, who is pressing his lips right into the microphone. A smirk pulled the corner of his mouth when he peeked open his eye to catch you pointing your camera at him. Cheeky bastard.

As he sang the next few lyrics, his hands lift up to the top part of his shirt where it was unbuttoned. Running his index finger from from his collar down to his chest, he sang; ‘shes an artist, paints across my chest,’ while sending you a quick wink.

Your mouth parted in utter shock and felt your heart beating in your ears. How does this man do this to you? You hadn’t even known him that long, but he was making you feel dizzy with the slightest little actions. You quickly shook away any thoughts popping into your mind and took a couple more photos of him. The last one was of him leaning back while strumming the next chords, then you moved on to capture more of the other band members. You just had to force yourself away from him before you got carried away.

That same night later on the tour bus, you were going through your photos again. One in particular caught your eye, it was of Wilbur with the red lights behind him casting him in a dark glow, and his guitar lifted into the air while he threw his head back. Infamous rockstar pose, you decide to call it. You chose a couple more to post to your professional instagram account, tagging the band members each in their respective photos.

About an hour later a notification came up on your phone that a mutual had commented on your photo. You checked it and immediately felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the words on your screen.

@/WilburSoot: Told you we make such a pretty picture ;)

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @highstonedcat

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist let me know!

#fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot fanfic #ahh this is cringy ik ik 🫣#might delete later

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f1byjessie · 3 months

Text

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part four.

“Saw McLaren posted pics of the new car,” Jack says in lieu of a greeting when he sees you after the weekend. He picks up his pace and crosses the distance to meet you where you’re fumbling with the keys to your “office”, and then he takes a few of the many equipment bags you’re attempting to juggle, saying as he does so, “You take any of those or no?”

You laugh, “Ah, no. They actually hire on a whole studio crew that does that. They’ve got lights, green screens, special camera lenses, the whole lot. The post-production on those photos is mad though.” You get the door unlocked and usher him inside, “I got to sit in on it once, and it’s crazy how much work goes into getting just a couple week’s worth of promotional content.”

He sets your bags down where you direct him to and then offers you a snarky grin, “Still probably would’ve looked cooler if you took ‘em, to be fair.”

It makes you laugh again. Jack seems to be good at that, and it feels nice to get along so well with someone you work with. You’ve found a surprising friend in him. At the end of your conversation on Friday, you’d exchanged numbers and he’d made you promise to reach out if you needed him for anything. You hadn’t, but he’d still sent you an unflatteringly angled picture of Kyle Walker from after their match against Newcastle, followed quickly with━ “use this in the next media drop thx,” and the chatter had gone from there.

You set down your own bags. “Well, thank you. Pretty sure it’s not as fun as this job, though.”

And you mean it. You’ve had opportunities to switch over to studio photography, and though you respect the people who do it and the unique challenges it poses in its own right, there’s nothing like being upfront and personal with all the action, getting to see the athletes in their element and know them on a level that goes beyond an hour or two shoot. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Wait,” you pause, hands stopping just above where you’re ready to start sorting through your equipment, “since when did you keep up with Formula One?”

Jack shrugs. “I don’t. But you work for that team, yeah? So I figured I might as well see what they’re all about.”

“Well, if you need something to do during the summer, let me know and I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him, resuming your sorting. “They give me extra tickets for each race but they usually end up going to waste.”

You don’t bring up the falling out you had with your parents at eighteen when you told them you were going to pursue photography or the fact that you haven’t really talked to them in years because of it. You also don’t mention that due to the strenuous, near-constant traveling and the strict schedule of your job, your friendships are limited to the athletes you work with and the other McLaren staff that travel with you━ all of whom have passes of their own, for obvious reasons.

Jack, thankfully, doesn’t ask about it either. Whether he’s made his own assumptions or respects that it’s probably a sore subject, he leaves it alone and the two of you carry on in companionable silence.

You get your equipment unzipped from the bags and organized across the room per your system, guiding your temporary helper with pointed fingers to where it all should go.

The silence is only broken again when he asks you a question. “You got a favorite driver?”

It’s so out of the blue that you nearly jump, startled by the suddenness of it against the quietness of the room. But then you laugh and shake your head. “Officially no, but just between the two of us, me and Lando started at the same time so he’s got a special place in my heart. He’s also my best friend.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” Despite the persona he puts on, you think he secretly loves gossip. “How’d he take the news about you being with Ward, then? ‘Cause I’d have some choice things to say to any friend of mine if they got with a prick like that.”

You purse your lips, divert your gaze to avoid Jack’s eyes, and shrug, fiddling with the neck strap of your camera as you do so. “I don’t know.”

“You ‘don’t know?’”

You shrug again and feign checking over the settings as if your camera’s aperture is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “He hasn’t been picking up my calls,” you start, “or answering my texts since the paps released the pics, so.”

When you glance back up, Jack’s making a face. “So, your best friend finds out you’re dating a total bellend, and instead of asking you about it or at the very least taking the piss, he ignores you?”

When he puts it like that, you feel a bit stupid for being more sad than you are angry.

All you can do is shrug.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mancity, jackgrealish, and 241,976 others

tagged: jackgrealish

yourusername ladies and gentlemen, jack grealish (i was threatened into posting these, send help pls)

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You decide that if Lando gets to be petty, then so do you.

The thing is, you’d told Lando you wouldn’t replace him with any of the guys from Manchester City, and you’d meant it━ you still mean it, despite your frustrations and annoyances with him telling you otherwise.

But if he’s going to play games, then so are you.

Technically you hadn’t started the relationship with Garrett willingly, but Lando doesn’t know that, and even if you had that doesn’t give him the right to go about ignoring you. You’ve been supportive when he’s gotten girlfriends━ you even ate greasy pizza, drank cheap wine, and cried watching The Notebook together when he ended his long-term relationship back in 2022. He could at least pretend to be supportive, or better yet he could pick up the fucking phone.

As pathetic as it sounds, you’d let him yell at and berate you if it just meant he’d answer your calls. Because having Jack around to gossip with and shoot the shit is nice, and he really does help you not feel so alone at Etihad Campus, but Lando’s your best friend and he has been for years now. There’s nobody that understands you as well as he does, even if he is a twat half the time, and what you need now most of all is that particular Lando brand of annoying to cheer you up.

The door opens, drawing your attention from where you’re scrolling through McLaren’s newest posts. Garrett stands in the opening.

The memory of that night still lingers like a bad taste in your mouth, bitter and unpleasant. You’ve managed to avoid him for the most part in the time since then, ignoring the looks he shoots your way out on the field or in the weight room, and lucky enough that his meetings with the physio team keep him preoccupied so that he can’t seek you out in between training sessions. You’d known it was inevitable that you’d have to face him, but that doesn’t stop the dread from pooling in your stomach when you see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as he surveys the makeshift office you’ve done up for yourself.

“They couldn’t find you an actual office?” He comments, looking disdainfully towards your desk and the large Manchester City logo emblazoned across the front.

You shrug, wishing he’d just get to the point. “I’m only here for a few months. Doesn’t matter much to me. What do you want?”

He takes a step farther into the room and closes the door behind him, taking his sweet time to cross the distance toward the seats. When he’s finally lowered down into one, he looks up to you with a nonchalance that fills you immediately with anger.

“I’m making some amendments to our agreement,” he announces.

“Like hell you are.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you seriously expect people to believe we’re a couple if we never actually do anything to give off the impression of being a couple?”

You scowl. Obviously, you hadn’t expected to just skate by on the coattails of pictures from a single night. You’d known from the very beginning that you would eventually need to make another public appearance together at the very least if you wanted to keep the paparazzi fed and encourage the idea to the media that you’re in a committed relationship with one another. You’d just been hoping you would’ve had more time until then.

“I’m not an idiot, Garrett,” you grumble, crossing your arms in your seat. You had been looking through pictures from the day’s morning practice, but now you think having to look at any more of Kevin De Bruyne’s grinning face will make you lose your mind when you feel the furthest thing from happy.

“Obviously,” Garrett scoffs. “But you’re the one who said I get one kiss and nothing more. Newsflash, love━” your scowl deepens, “━couples do more than just kiss one time.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

He pulls his phone from the pocket of his joggers and swipes across the screen for a few moments of anticipatory silence. “Well,” he finally says, “it’s the sixteenth now. We haven’t got a match until the twenty-sixth. Go on a date with me this weekend.”

You can’t say no. There’s no plausible excuse for you to get out of it, and deep down you know the only way you can get rid of Garrett is to just do what he says and hope the media make their conclusions about his change quick enough that you can ditch him before the summer break.

At least during the Formula One season, you can use traveling as a reason to get out of dates. When the Champion’s League starts back up he’ll be traveling around Europe a bit more than he is now, and there’s always a chance you could be in the same country at the same time, but the likelihood of your schedules aligning is slim and that means you’ll be safe from any ventures out into public.

But for the time being, you’re stuck.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He claps his hands, a deceptively cheerful grin on his face. If you didn’t already think of him as the worst prick you’ve ever met, you might’ve found it charming. It’s the same smile he used to flash at you in your first week when he was trying to cozy up and ease his way into your good graces. The sight of it makes you sick to your stomach, now.

“Great,” he rises from his seat. “We’ll do some shopping, get some lunch━ make a full day out of it.”

At this point, you don’t care what he has planned. You just want him to leave you alone so you can try to at least pretend like you’re gonna finish the rest of the work you need to get around to.

Garrett’s made his way to the door and has his hand reaching for the handle when he turns back around and gives you a smirk. “Might wanna work on your happy face, though, love,” he comments, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. “‘Cause if you look like that in front of the paps they definitely aren’t gonna be very convinced that you love me.”

Just to spite him, you let your scowl deepen. “I don’t need your advice. I know how to handle myself, Garrett.” You say his name like a curse━ like the very feeling of it on your tongue causes you pain.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment. His face turns thoughtful, but there’s still the smugness painted across his features that makes you so unfathomably annoyed. “You must be pretty familiar with the paps if you’re always around those drivers, yeah?” He knows the answer to his question already, so you’re not sure why he’s even asking.

He stays silent, though, like he’s genuinely expecting an answer, so you shrug your shoulders. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats back to you.

His laughter is all you hear echoing in your ears even once he’s long gone.

Until your phone starts to ring and Lando's name flashes across the screen.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght

━━ a/n: cliffhanger hehe~ also, i promise we're getting to ACTUAL formula one stuff soon

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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bbytamaki · 1 year

Text

RIDE MY FACE, I DON’T WANT NOTHING IN RETURN

content: aot’s top 5 biggest munches, modern au, bed humping, spit in mouth, nsfw link in eren’s, face sitting, squirting, toys (vibrator), creampies, cum eating, consensual photography

genre: nsfw (MDNI)

note: self indulgent oops (〃ω〃)

1. hange

hange gets off on giving you head and there’s no doubt about it. after a long and tiring day they still don’t want you to lift a finger. just give them one taste and that’s all they need to relax (but they’ll definitely ask for more).

hange has your ankles pushed up by your ears and they’re steadying you by holding their hands just below your knees. they’re the type to grind on the bed uncontrollably while eating you out, and they tend to lose control of how tight they’re gripping your thighs. what can we say, hange just doesn’t know their own strength?

2. eren

dirty, disgusting, filthy. spits on it, eats it like a man starved, then comes back up to spit it back in your mouth and give you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. he has absolutely no shame. even when you whine into the pillow that this position is embarrassing, it’s not stopping him from bending you to your limits.

if you’ve ever seen that one twt video of a couple 69ing and the guy is gripping and spreading her ass while he’s absolutely going to town, you’re looking at eren. sometimes he can be polite though. his favorite way is to wake you up with “good morning” clit kisses and take you out to breakfast <3

3. connie

he’s never been above begging. like actually on his knees groveling. but once he’s in there, he’s in there and he’s not coming up for air at all. he doesn’t care about size, if he tells you to take a seat you better sit all the way down.

if he thinks eating you out in the back of his expensive car is a good enough apology he is absolutely correct. complete with kisses all the way from the ankle to right above where you really need him. he’s desperate but he can be mean like that.

4. mikasa

“squirting contest!! let’s see who can squirt the farthest >:)” it’ll always be you. no question. she’s not satisfied until you’re tapping the bedframe twice to let her know you can’t take anymore. that “can’t do it mika” is music to her ears.

she uses every available resource at every opportunity. she’s switching between her tongue and your favorite vibe every couple seconds and evil laughing when she watches your body jolt when you make a mess on her whole upper body.

5. reiner

i had to decide who was taking the last spot and reiner’s here for good reason. as soon as he gets done stuffing you like a fucking twinkie he’s on his knees cleaning up your mess. he loves how you can just barely take all of his cum at once, and he loves tasting you and him together.

he’s bending you over the kitchen counter and holding you back against his chest when he starts slowing down to make a mess all in your insides before he lets you rest a little bit. of course he has to take a picture for your private collection before you’re on all fours on the counter, cumming over and over until he’s tired <3

#minors look away #attack on titan #aot smut #aot headcanons #aot x reader #eren smut #eren x black reader #connie smut #hange smut #mikasa smut #reiner smut #reiner x black reader #snk smut #snk headcanons #snk x reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— LINES OF YOUR HANDS

SUMMARY : dean tries being seductive in a Santa suit… and it works, surprisingly.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, on the kitchen table, Santa suit kink, nude photography, breeding kink, jerking off, cum play

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — (Santa) suit kink and nude photography. this was cute to me, idk ‘bout y’all, like yeah, the sex, but Dean’s so cute in my imagination (and in the show). had clara oswald and danny pink in mind for this one, lmao XXX

“Merry Christmas, my love!” Dean exclaimed from the doorway of the kitchen. His girlfriend turned around, distractedly biting off the arm of a gingerbread man.

“You could’ve at least picked something sexy,” she snorted, turning away from him to bite the other arm of her gingerbread man. Dean pouted and made his way to her unenthusiastically.

“Well, guess what I’m wearing underneath,” he proposed excitedly with his hands on his hips. She didn’t turn around to look at him this time.

“Uh… your Scooby-Doo boxers?” She asked, grinning at the space in front of her before taking a bite of a gingerbread cookie’s leg. She knew that would make Dean whine more. “One of the hundred of black t-shirts you own, and uh… those ‘send noods’ socks, my fave,” she continued with a dreamy laugh. Dean sputtered.

“No,” he pouted adorably. She shrugged, mouth full, drinking warm coconut milk to help the cookie go down. Defeated, Dean’s frown deepened. “Nothing,” he whined, then stomped over to her, hoping she’d look at him. “Come on, admit it’s sexy,” he smiled cheekily, sitting on the table next to the small plate with crumbs and a gingerbread man that no longer had arms and legs.

She sighed playfully and then leaned back, eyes trailing from the top of his cute head to the bottom of his hot legs. She checked him out once more, contemplating his appearance: she stared at his thighs, the tent in the red, fluffy trousers, the tightness of the suit on him, the little bit of skin showing at his neck, the floppy red and white hat on top of his head.

She tried to give him what he wanted, to see the sexiness in his costume. But… she couldn’t help it, she smiled brightly at him. He was too damn adorable.

“Oh, come on!” He whined, then hastily undid the black belt around his waist, letting the coat fall open. She held her breath as she watched him, her eyes glued to his taut, hot body, and his warm, freckled skin. He bit his lip, and pulled his pants down to release his cock, and slowly started to jerk himself off.

That did it for her. Her stomach flipped and her pussy clenched, warmth spread over her face, her stomach, her cunt. She released a shaky breath as a wave of dampness ruined her underwear almost instantly.

Squeezing her thighs, she fumbled and checked her pockets for her phone to take a picture. Maybe a lot more than one. This was so hot and definitely worth being kept in the hidden photo album of explicit photos and videos of her and Dean.

When he saw it in her hands, he stopped touching himself and reached for the phone, but she snatched it away before he could snatch it away.

“Hey!” He complained. He thought she was going to ignore him and scroll through her phone instead.

“Shut up,” she grunted, which made his mouth shut instantly, “I’m trying to eat my gingerbread man and you want to seduce me… now deal with the fact that it worked.”

“You’re torturing the little man,” he stared down at the gingerbread man with an exaggerated frown. “But, hey, I ain’t complainin’ if you wanna take a few videos of me right now,” he grinned, going right back at it. “Did ya name him?” He asked, running his thumb over the tip of his leaking cock.

“Patrick,” she laughed softly, then stood up to find the perfect angle. It didn’t matter though, he looked good from all angles. She snapped a photo, kept tapping and tapping the red button to get as many as she could. Data storage be damned.

“Want some more frosting on Patrick?” He jested, but she was actually contemplating his offer. He cursed softly and watched her with hooded eyes.

She leaned down to collect the beads of precum at his tip with her tongue which made his body tense up, a loud moan erupting from his throat. She reached over and took a bite of her cookie, mixing the sweet and tangy flavour of her two favourite things. “Yummy,” she snickered, staring straight at Dean.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips.

“Maybe when you’ve got another load, you’re cumming inside me first.” She pushed her cup and the headless cookie to the far end of the table, close to the wall. “Fuck, actually… should I take a picture of you cumming on your hand first?” She stopped in the middle of lifting her shirt up, staring at him as he slowed the pace of his movements to stop his orgasm.

“No, later,” he decided for her, “please, get up here and ride me.” He begged, then shifted on the table to lie on his back, aware of the plate and cup she pushed against the wall when he placed the Santa hat with them. She snickered and lifted the top over her head. She wore no bra this morning and the sight of her breasts made him moan softly.

“Comfortable?” She asked, kicking her slippers off and then slid her leggings and underwear down in one swift pull.

“Just get up here,” he told her impatiently, reaching down to tug at his balls instead of jerking himself off. She laughed again and did as he asked. She climbed up the chair, made her way onto the table, and then sat on his lap, taking his hard cock in her hand.

“How are you making this work?” She teased, biting her lip, slowly stroking from base to tip. He instantly grabbed her hips, his red lips parted to release quick breaths as he brought her forward over his erect cock.

He shrugged, biting his lip and smiling cutely. “Please,” he begged again, urging her to take him. She playfully, teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, and stared down at him mischievously.

“Sam’s gonna get mad that we fucked on the table.” He knew she was stalling on purpose, getting him riled up. Her intentions were clearer when she reached for her phone again, and took a couple photos of his cock in her hand.

She stopped stroking his cock to focus on taking more photos. It frustrated him and he groaned, reaching between her legs. While she treated him like a sex model, leaning back in his lap to capture him at the best angle with her phone, he separated her folds and brushed his thumb against her clit.

His cock twitched when he brought two of his fingers to her entrance and an insane amount of slick met his fingertips. “Wow, it’s really workin’,” he chuckled, smiling up at her smugly. She rolled her eyes, lips parting when he pushed two fingers into her, meeting no resistance. “Please tell me you’re done, I wanna be inside you and feel all of this… wrapped around my dick,” he mumbled, pushing a third finger into her, then spread them apart inside her.

“Oh… fuck, Dean!” She moaned in surprise. Her phone tumbled out of her hand and rattled on the floor, but it didn’t break. She slammed both hands on his chest as her thighs shook on either side of his body as his fingers curled against the front of her walls.

“It’s Santa now,” he teased, pulling his soaked fingers out of her fluttering pussy to wrap it around his cock. She barely composed herself when he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting his cock into her swiftly.

She cried out again and buried her face into his neck, making a tight fist with both hands clenching around the red and white Santa jacket he wore. She moaned softly when he rolled his hips gently, soothing the amazing stretch of her cunt around him.

“Shit.. that was way too easy, babe,” he gasped, giving her ass a gentle swat. “You okay?” He murmured, kissing her temple. She nodded, her pussy fluttering needily around his cock. “Well…” he paused for a moment, reaching up to move her hair to one side, then lifted her mouth up to his. “What do you want for Christmas, sweetheart?” He mumbled against her lips, giving her a few loving pecks.

She kissed him lewdly, licking across his sugary lips and into his minty mouth with a hum. With a smirk, she replied, “a baby.”

His grip on her hair tightened and his cock twitched inside her. He pulled her off him with a sharp tug of her hair and stared at her face, stunned and aroused. “Don’t ask for something if you’re not serious about it…” he murmured, planting his black-leather-boot clad feet on the table.

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” She asked, placing her arm beside his head and laying her palm flat over his toned stomach.

“That shit-eating grin on your fuckable face.” Before she could get out a reply, Dean began to piston his hips up into her, clasping both hands on her hips roughly to keep her from moving.

With a surprised moan she pressed her forehead into her arm and wrapped her hand around one of Dean’s wrists, above his watch.

She panted heavily into his ear, occasionally moaning encouragements that made him fuck her harder. Her clit slapped delightfully against his pelvis with each thrust and upward grind. He focused on chasing her pleasure more than his own, angling her hips so he could press his cock into the front of her pussy, brushing repeatedly over her sweet spots.

“You want a baby?” He asked breathlessly, cock throbbing inside her velvety walls. He could feel her getting as close to her orgasm as he was, and continued to grind up against her after every thrust to stimulate her clit. “I’ll give you a baby,” he growled, latching his lips to her pulse.

With a sharp thrust and a hard bite, he came inside her with a grunt of her name against her neck. Hot cum pooled inside her and triggered her own orgasm. With a shuddering moan of Dean’s name, she took Dean's face lovingly into her hands and kissed him as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Her kiss-swollen lips moved across his jaw, down his flushed neck and chest as they attempted to catch their breaths. Dean pulled her closer, his warm hands squeezing his favourite parts of her body that he could reach. Barely having caught their breaths, he mumbled, “I believe you need to let me eat your cookie now that I’ve delivered your gift. Santa’s gotta get a reward,” against her flushed cheek.

She moved away from his mouth and lifted a brow at the playful grin he gave her. “Do not call my vagina a cookie ever again,” she giggled, pushing up off his chest. Except he pulled her back down with his fingers around the back of her neck to peck her lips, once, then twice.

“Babe, please, I’m trying to be in the Christmas spirit,” he reasoned playfully with a nod, dimples on display with his puckered lips. He slid his hands down the curve of her back and stopped just shy of her ass, calloused hands caressing her soft skin.

She eyed him suspiciously and then dropped a lingering kiss on his forehead for cuteness. “Okay, I’ll let it slide… this time,” she smiled, then dropped doting kisses over his cheeks and nose.

“Right, but you have no problem with me referring to myself as Santa, hmm?” He muttered, feigning disappointment. Mischievously, she stopped her kisses before she could get to his mouth, hovering over his lips after kissing the corner of his mouth.

She pulled away as he waited for her kiss with a very subtle pucker of his lips and then, he had the audacity to pout again. “Be happy that I fucked you in this ridiculous costume at all,” she frowned, but her bright and amused eyes betrayed her serious face.

“This costume is not ridiculous, okay? You’re ridiculous…” he scoffed, moving his hands away from her hips to cross them over his chest defensively.

She bit back a smile and slid off his soft dick, which made him reach out for her to return with his lips parted to ask her to come back. Instead, she took his hands to balance herself as she climbed off the table and took her phone off the floor, his cum already starting to dribble out of her pussy.

She squeezed her legs together as she unlocked her cellphone to study the photos she took of Dean. “I’m gonna get these framed… or.. I’m making my own porn magazine with photos of you naked.. yeah, that’s a great idea,” she spoke to herself thoughtfully.

Dean blindly grabbed for the Santa hat, lifted his pants up, and slid off the table to wrap his arms around his naked girlfriend. He put the hat back on and dropped his chin on her shoulder to gaze at her phone.

“Only if you do the same for me,” he proposed bashfully, then slowly started moving his hands down between her legs. She smiled and parted her legs for him, but she didn’t expect him to send a slap over her sensitive clit.

He must have expected her reaction because he released her immediately and backed away when she jumped with a shout and turned to face him swiftly. She glared at him and walked towards him until the metal counter hit his back.

He licked his lip, trying to lean casually against the counter with his green eyes shining bright like shiny ornaments on a Christmas tree. He swallowed excitedly and smiled at her flirtatiously—that stupid smile he gave women when he tried picking them up or to get information out of them.

“I’m tying you up with the Christmas lights for that,” she threatened seductively, pressing herself up against his taut body. He bit his lip and carefully moved his hands to her ass to keep her close, then squeezed.

“Really?”

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

kinkmas2023 masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #12daysofspnkinkmas2023

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weemssapphic · 8 months

Note

Hello, friend!

Would you be so kind as to write a one-shot where r is a local boudoir photographer in Jericho and Larissa gets a shoot done(for whatever reason)? Then it becomes an often thing and r just can't stand seeing such a beautiful woman single ;) maybe some fluffy smut at the end?

A/N: HELLO FRIEND. i'm actually embarrassed looking at the date on this ask and i request your sincerest apologies. i really loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it!

All My Pictures of You

Words: ~5.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: mutual pining, boudoir photography, lingerie, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering

Larissa sat in her car in front of the small cottage, her gaze shifting nervously to her watch. 2:57 pm. Her appointment was at 3. She still had a few minutes - she still had time to turn around, to reverse out of the long, winding drive and send an apologetic cancellation email.

No, Larissa told herself firmly. She would go through with this, she wouldn’t back out now. With a deep breath, Larissa wiped her clammy palms on her skirt and stepped out of her car, striding up to the door of the cottage and knocking firmly.

You opened the door quickly, as if you’d been waiting for her, a wide smile on your face as you introduced yourself and gestured for Larissa to come in. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she gave you a once over - you’d been so kind and attentive over the phone, and your voice had been rather attractive, but she hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. Now she found herself even more nervous than before.

“Please, sit for a moment,” you said warmly, guiding Larissa into your small, homey living room. She perched herself awkwardly at the edge of your couch, her back stiff as a board. “What would you like to drink? I have water, coffee, tea, wine, champagne…”

Larissa clasped her hands in her lap, picking subconsciously at her cuticles. “Wine would be lovely, I suppose.” She was definitely going to need a glass if she was going to get through this afternoon.

“White or red? Wait - let me guess.” You tapped your finger on your lip, giving Larissa a not-so-subtle once-over that had Larissa blushing profusely. “Red?”

Larissa nodded, her heart rate picking up considerably at your adorably wide smile as you sauntered into what she could only assume was your kitchen, before returning a few moments later with a large glass of wine and a glass of water.

She accepted the wine gratefully, muttering out a nervous “thank you” as you sat down across from her and took a sip of your water.

“Before we get started, I just wanted to go over some of the notes I made during our call last week, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Larissa nodded, watching as you plucked a notebook off the coffee table and set it on your lap.

“Seeing as you said that this is your first boudoir shoot, I want it to be as comfortable as possible for you. My only ‘rule’ is that you speak up if you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, and we can go ahead and work through that or stop the session, okay?”

Larissa nodded again, taking a healthy swig of her wine and feeling her cheeks glow with warmth.

“Now I know you’ve come with your hair and makeup already done, as you’d said you would, but I can do touch-ups throughout the afternoon if you’d like. You said you wanted to do the shoot in lingerie, is that still the case?”

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, feeling more than a little flustered at the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger - a very attractive stranger.

“I assume you’re wearing it right now?” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa nodded sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is, then, for you to freshen up and get ready, and then we can move into my studio space. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”

Larissa shook her head no and watched you stand, following your lead as you padded down the hall and opened a door for her. “Take all the time you need.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Larissa shut the door behind her and slumped back against it, squeezing her eyes shut.

She still didn’t know what had compelled her to book a boudoir shoot. She supposed it came down to a desire to feel young and attractive again - years of all-nighters to catch up on work, the stress of running an entire school coupled with dealing with children and constantly putting out fires left her feeling more than a bit run-down. Her age was showing, her crows feet and laugh lines becoming more prominent with each passing day, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

The photographer had gotten back to her quickly and suggested an introductory call - despite her nerves, she felt too bad to call the whole thing off and say “never mind”, so she’d gone through with the call. You’d seemed nice enough, very enthusiastic but also very considerate when she’d explained she’d never done something like this before.

And now, Larissa stood in your bathroom, slowly removing her clothing with shaking hands to reveal a red lace bodysuit. It wasn’t particularly revealing as far as lingerie went, yet Larissa blushed furiously as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t find herself beautiful - despite her reservations about her own aging, she did possess a certain confidence in her appearance. But the thin lace left little to the imagination, particularly in comparison to her usual, more conservative attire, and Larissa was about to pose in front of a total stranger with a camera - the implications were just now beginning to hit her.

It’s now or never. Larissa opened the bathroom door almost robotically, slipping out into the narrow hallway. You seemed to have heard the creak of the floorboards, because you poked your head out of a room at the end of the hallway and beamed at her - her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously.

“I’m in here,” you said brightly, waiting for Larissa to walk the length of the hallway and join you in your studio.

The studio space was a large, well-lit room at the back of your cottage. Lots of natural light filtered in through the window, spilling onto a beautiful, vintage-looking rug. An intricately framed mirror stood across from a large bed with a plush, velvet headboard that took up much of the wall.

Larissa didn’t have much time to think about how awkward she felt - from the moment she stepped into the room you were talking up a storm, walking her through the room, showing her your camera and equipment, cracking jokes. She couldn’t help but be enamored with you, and she found herself relaxing slightly as your enthusiasm began to rub off on her.

“I was thinking we could start at the window, the lighting is really great there and it doesn’t feel quite as intimate as shooting in the bed.” You directed Larissa towards the window seat - she perched at the edge of the cushions, unsure of how to pose, but you took over for her in an instant. “Can you lean back against the wall a bit? And turn your head to the right? Just like that.”

Larissa followed your instructions, hearing the shutter of your camera click, her face flushing. She was certain she looked ridiculous, but you kept instructing her to pose and encouraging her happily as if she wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl - after a few minutes, Larissa found her blush fading slightly, feeling more confident in herself.

~~~

You felt the air leave your lungs when you saw Larissa standing in your hallway in nothing but a lacy bodysuit, looking terribly yet adorably awkward. The next minutes as you started the shoot were no better - you were definitely overcompensating for your attraction to the woman with over-the-top enthusiasm, over-explaining your process and trying to bring the blonde just a bit of comfort.

Being fairly good at your job, you could tell that Larissa was beginning to relax - she wasn’t blushing as much, her posing was less tense, her smile came more naturally. It was then that you were able to admire her beauty in full - and, God, what a stunning woman she was.

She was perched on the window seat, overlooking your lush garden. Sunlight hit her face at the perfect angle, casting a soft shadow across the left side of her face and creating a subtle halo around her perfectly coiffed white hair. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, bright and clear, and her pale, freckled skin was practically glowing in contrast to the red lace.

You tried your best not to ogle her - she was your paying client, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. You normally had no trouble with this, but you’d also never been this attracted to a client before.

“You are very beautiful,” you whispered - the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and your heart skipped a beat as Larissa’s gaze met yours, those deep blue eyes widening and her lips parting slightly as your compliment registered in her brain. Then she smiled, ducking her head shyly, and it was the most breathtaking thing you’d ever seen - you quickly snapped a few photos, Larissa’s smile widening as she heard the sound of the shutter.

~~~

“I’ll upload the photos tonight and start the editing process,” you told Larissa as you led her to your front door. “I have a light workload this week so I should be able to send you the photos in 2-3 days, and then if you want physical copies of any of them, I can help you get those printed.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Larissa replied with a genuine smile - it was your turn to blush. “I’ll be awaiting your email, then.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” you teased lightly, noting how Larissa’s pupils widened slightly at your tone.

You watched Larissa walk to her car, noting how long and toned her legs looked in her heels - you should have asked her to keep those on, you thought to yourself. Closing the door, you rushed back into your studio and grabbed your camera, then settled on your couch with your laptop - you couldn’t wait to edit her photos.

It was something that kept you busy for the entire evening, and most of the following morning. One of your regulars canceled on you at the last minute, so you ended up having some extra time before your next late afternoon shoot to finish up the editing. You wanted to be done quickly for Larissa, eager for her reaction to the pictures, but it was proving to be quite difficult - your eyes would get stuck on each picture, drinking in the details and getting so lost in simply looking that the editing took ages.

You’d never been this affected by a client before. Sure, you took pictures of beautiful, scantily clad women all the time, you’d been doing it for years at this point. And some of them you did find really attractive. But they were still just clients to you - beautiful, certainly, but strictly off-limits.

But Larissa? There was something about her that captivated you, that made it nearly impossible to think straight - it was entirely inappropriate, but every time you’d caught her smiling in your direction, you’d been overcome with the urge to lunge forward and kiss her senseless. Even now, looking at the pictures you’d taken, your heart skipped a beat.

There was one in particular that you couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at. Larissa was lying on her back, her long legs bent, her arms draped over her head. You’d taken the picture from above, and you’d been cracking jokes hoping to make her laugh. And laugh she did - it was loud and unabashed, and it left her with a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear and little crinkles around her eyes. The bridge of her nose crinkled the tiniest bit, bright blue eyes scrunching up. You were grateful for your years of experience, because the sight briefly made you forget how to work your camera - your finger worked on autopilot to snap photos while your brain short-circuited.

Once you finished the editing, you uploaded the photos to your cloud and sent Larissa an email with the link - butterflies erupted in your stomach as your finger hovered over the “send” button, and you realized how fucked you truly were.

~~~

Late the following afternoon, you had another shoot - Sam, a woman you’d taken pictures of on occasion and developed an easy rapport with. After she left, you decided to make yourself some dinner before doing some editing for the evening. Just as the water for your pasta had started to boil, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.

“Hello?”

The voice at the other end of the line - smooth, sultry, British - made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Hello, this is Larissa. Weems.”

“Oh, hi! I’m assuming you’re calling about the edited photos I sent you?” You tried hard to keep your voice level, to treat her as you did every other woman you took photos of - it proved to be a challenge however, as your voice rose nervously in pitch. Oh, God, what if she was unhappy with them? What if she hated them? What if-

“Yes, I wanted to thank you again. I wasn’t expecting them to turn out so well, I- well, I’m unsure what I was expecting, but they really have turned out beautifully.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” They’re only beautiful because you’re beautiful. “If there are any that you want physical copies of, you can send me an email with the file name and we can go over exactly what you’re looking for?” You paced about your kitchen, filled with too much nervous energy to stand still.

“Oh, yes. There are a few, I suppose. Actually… I wanted to know if there is any way we could do a second shoot?”

A second shoot?

You felt your pulse skyrocket.

“A second shoot? I mean, yeah, of course - whatever you want. Do you have a day in mind already?”

Larissa hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps next Saturday, the same time as this week?”

“Sure, Larissa.” You trailed off, caught off-guard - you’d thought (at least you’d hoped) that Larissa had become more comfortable by the end of her shoot, but you hadn’t dared dream you’d ever see her again. “Is there something you were unhappy with or…?”

“I just really enjoyed myself and… I think this could be good for me.” You could practically hear the blush in her tone - it made your stomach flip.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s the goal with these photos, you know?” You paused for a moment, your next words slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Did your partner like them?”

“Oh, no it’s nothing like that… I don’t have a partner.”

You could feel your breath catch in your lungs as you processed her words, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer as you worried you’d made things awkward. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I mean I just thought- you know, you’re so beautiful, I assumed…” Way to make things even more awkward…

“It’s quite alright, my dear.” My dear. Swoon. Her voice was filled with warmth, bordering on teasing, and it made your stomach do a somersault.

“I’ll see you next week then? If you still want to, that is.”

“Yes. I would love to. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, before hanging up the phone.

~~~

This time, when Larissa walked up to the front door of your cottage, she felt a little more confident. She knew what to expect now - and honestly, the first shoot hadn’t been as awkward or humiliating as she’d thought it would be. Really, the photos had turned out so well - they’d made her feel sexy, they’d made her feel young again. And you’d been very patient with her, always making sure to direct her into poses so that she never felt helpless - there was a reason your clients spoke so highly of you in online reviews, she supposed.

But there was something else. The way you’d looked at her during that first shoot, particularly when you thought she wasn’t watching, had stirred up feelings inside of Larissa that she hadn’t felt in years. She felt desirable. Under your gaze, she felt attractive - it felt natural to pose in lingerie when you were the one watching her. And it was insane, really - she didn’t even know you, and you were simply doing your job. But Larissa couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there.

You let Larissa into your cottage and, after offering her a drink, directed her to get changed and meet you in the studio. Larissa didn’t miss the way you blushed and squirmed when she stepped into the studio in a matching set - a mesh, sage green bra and panties.

She still found herself a bit shy about her body - her stomach was on display a lot more this time around, and she crossed her arms subconsciously over her torso.

“That, uh, that color really suits you.”

It was Larissa’s turn to blush, and she smiled a shy, closed-lip smile. You directed her to the floor in front of the mirror, explaining that you would love to use the mirror for some shots. Larissa agreed and sat down, drawing her legs up to her chest to hide the stomach rolls that formed as she sat.

“None of that,” you teased, tapping her knee and instructing her to stretch out her legs. Larissa leaned back on her elbows, her body now on almost full display for you. Your eyes roamed her bare skin - just briefly - and you bit your lip. “You have a gorgeous figure, Larissa. Really, most women would kill to look like you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Larissa felt her stomach flip at your compliment. You gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, your eyes briefly flicking over her body. Part of her did feel self-conscious but another part, a part that was quickly taking over, felt alive under your gaze. She felt her body come to life as she posed for you, and she almost found herself forgetting there was even a camera present - she often looked past the lens, directly at you, admiring you in your element, basking in the soft smiles you would shoot at her when you caught her looking.

“Um, Larissa?” you asked suddenly, lowering your camera slightly and cocking your head to the side.

“Hmm?”

“Could we try… maybe we could try taking your hair down for a few photos?” You bit your lip and watched intently for Larissa’s reaction - her eyes widened at your suggestion and you immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, it looks like it was a bitch to put up so I totally get it if you’d rather not! And I mean it looks amazing, you look really beautiful, so it’s nice as is!”

Larissa did have to admit your suggestion caught her off-guard - her updo had become an integral part of her uniform, another part of her mask. She’d figured out long ago that it suited her, gave her an untouchable air of sophistication, and it became a staple for her - there were few people in her life today who’d seen her with her hair down, and so wearing her hair down had begun to feel very intimate.

But something about you, about the entire situation, felt different. She felt safe here in this little studio space. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and nodded. “I can take it down. It’ll take a few minutes though, there are quite a few pins.”

“I could help - I mean, only if you want me to, of course, sorry.”

Larissa couldn’t help but grin at your chaotic nature. “I would appreciate your help.”

You set your camera on the floor and scooted closer, settling on your knees behind Larissa and running your fingers over the intricate curls. “Wow,” you breathed, before gently beginning to pry pins out of her hair - Larissa felt her cheeks go pink, unused to so much praise.

Your fingers danced over her curls, setting them free one by one. The pressure from the pins was slowly being released, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. She felt embarrassed by the noise, but it seemed to embolden you - you began to gently massage her scalp.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

“Mmh… yes, it is.” Larissa let out another hum of pleasure and leaned into your touch.

“Why do you wear it up like that if it’s so tight?” Your voice was curious as the pads of your fingers reached the muscles at the nape of her neck.

“I just do.” Larissa shrugged, another soft moan escaping her lips - this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. “I found it suits me. And I enjoy the process, I like having my routine and my structure.”

You carded your fingers through loose, platinum curls, draping the long locks over Larissa’s shoulders and moving around to face her. Your eyes were wide as they roamed over Larissa’s face, over long lengths of hair - your cheeks turning red in real time.

“Uh, looks good. The light is kind of coming in from the side, if I go over there and you kind of pose in front of the mirror, I think that would look cool. Maybe we could do some standing shots?”

Larissa grinned, very aware of how you were trying to cover up your own embarrassment at the sudden intimacy. How endearing, she thought.

After the shoot, when she was sitting in her car, Larissa realized just how good that intimacy had felt. She craved it, and most importantly, she craved it with you. What she didn’t know was that you were sitting on your couch, your stomach flipping as you reviewed the photos you’d taken - completely smitten by her and wondering when you’d get to see her again.

~~~

You did that dance for months - every so often, Larissa would book a shoot, seeming to become more and more comfortable each time. Her lingerie became more revealing, her posing more confident - she often wore her hair down, once she even decided to forgo makeup. Both of you flirted - just a little - dancing around each other, perfectly in sync but never daring to go for more. Every so often your hand would linger just a little longer than it should when you’d direct Larissa into a pose, every so often Larissa’s gaze would travel over your own body as you snapped photo after photo.

Today’s shoot was no different. Larissa wore a white teddy, nearly see-through, with lace around the cups and a deep plunge. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, one side pinned back from her face. It had stolen the breath from your lungs when she’d entered the room and you’d busied yourself with your equipment as you tried to compose yourself.

Larissa sat down on the bed, legs crossed demurely as she waited for you, hands clasped in her lap. Little did you know that today’s shoot would be very different to the rest - Larissa would make sure of that.

“Do you want to start on the bed today then?” you asked, glancing over at Larissa as you fiddled with some settings on your camera.

“Yes, I think so,” Larissa purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You tried for a casual smile, hating the way your voice broke slightly - it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure around the woman.

Larissa shifted slightly on the bed and you stepped forward to get a closer angle. The blonde looked straight into the camera, eyes seductive and heavy-lidded, and uncrossed her legs - you snapped a few photos. Then, at an almost glacial pace, she spread her legs, a smirk playing upon her lips.

You were so focussed on her full, red lips that it took you a moment before you glanced down between her legs - the sight had your mouth going dry. Larissa’s lingerie was crotchless - there, between soft, milky thighs, was her pussy, bare and glistening with arousal.

Larissa rested her hands on her thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh there, before trailing her palms slowly inward and upward, subtly spreading her legs even farther, spreading herself open in the process.

You watched, mesmerized. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself setting down your camera and crawling up the bed towards Larissa, until you were nestled between her thighs. You could feel heat radiating off her in waves - it made desire pool in your core, like a tightening coil. Leaning in, you stopped until your face was inches away from hers, until you could feel her breath fan across your face. Your eyes were glued to her lips - red and plush - as you closed the gap, your eyelids fluttering shut as your lips connected with her own - soft and warm.

A soft sigh escaped your throat when Larissa began to kiss you back, moving her mouth against your own. Her hands landed on the curve of your hips, causing your heart to flutter madly. You pressed forward, your hand resting on Larissa’s shoulder as you guided her backwards - Larissa followed your lead until she was lying on her back and you were hovering over her, your knee inches away from her warm core. “I’m very attracted to you, Larissa,” you mumbled against her lips.

“Do you do this with all the women you take pictures of?” Larissa’s voice was deep and sultry, her eyes half-lidded, but you could tell from the way her fingers twitched against your hips, the absence of her breath against your face, that your answer mattered to her.

“It never even crossed my mind until I met you…” It was true. You’d never desired another person this much before, and you’d certainly never dreamed of pursuing a client. Except Larissa. Larissa, who was staring up at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Larissa, who in that moment wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down, her lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

It was as if Larissa was trying to devour you, her lips moving against yours in desperation. She deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours as her hands found purchase in your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.

You let out a deep groan as Larissa arched her back off the bed, pushing her body up into your own and letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck, Larissa.”

“Please.”

That one syllable was so needy, so filled with desire that your thighs clenched together of their own accord, the heat between your bodies becoming absolutely unbearable. Your hand traveled lower and lower, caressing Larissa’s waist, her hips, her thigh, your fingertips memorizing the softness of her skin - every dip and curve of her body. Your hand reached her inner thigh and Larissa let out a gasp, her legs twitching.

“Can I?” you breathed, pausing in your ministrations. You were met with a breathy ‘yes’ and an enthusiastic nod of Larissa’s head - then with a whimper as your fingers brushed against her wet folds.

Larissa tightened her grip on your hips, squirming slightly beneath you as your fingers explored her cunt, trailing up her slit to gather the juices there and smearing them over her clit.

“Mmh, right there, keep going.” Larissa’s voice was becoming breathier as she began to roll her hips. It was so incredibly hot, how you could see the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten as she ground her pelvis into your fingers.

Larissa arched her back off the bed, tilting her head back as she let out a low groan when your fingers began to tease her entrance. “P-please,” she whimpered.

You happily obliged, letting out a moan of your own when you slipped a digit inside of her hole and felt her walls clench needily around it, drawing you in.

“You feel so good.” You leaned down to press your lips to Larissa’s - the kiss was hungry and desperate and hot, the blonde’s breathing labored. Her hands slipped under your shirt and clawed at your back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake - the pain felt delicious and you dragged Larissa’s bottom lip between your teeth in response.

Your finger pumped in and out of Larissa at a steady pace and you soon added a second finger. The pads of your fingers found her sweet spot while your thumb began to flick gently across her clit, drawing a whine from her throat.

You drew back slightly from the kiss to catch a glimpse of Larissa’s face - she took your breath away. Her face and chest were flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded, mascara-coated lashes fluttering slightly, lips parted as her jaw went slack. When she noticed you watching her, the corners of her lips quirked up slightly into a seductive smile, and she squeezed your waist.

“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed.

“Then kiss me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you descended upon her again, pouring all of your passion and desire into the kiss as your fingers curled inside of her and your thumb massaged her sensitive clit. You swallowed her moans as she got closer and closer to the edge, fucking her through her first orgasm - and keeping up your pace even as her thighs trembled and her nails dug into your skin.

A second orgasm quickly followed, then a third, then Larissa was gently pushing your hand away.

“I need a moment,” she admitted between deep, labored breaths, a soft smile on her face as her eyelids fluttered shut.

You happily scooted up the bed to join her, settling next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple as she nestled into your side. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you watched Larissa come down from her high, allowing yourself to freely admire her stunning features.

“Larissa?” you whispered, resting your hand on her hip and gently stroking the soft skin.

Larissa hummed in response, burrowing her head deeper into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss to the side of your throat - it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I have a confession to make.” You bit your lip, your pulse hammering as Larissa leaned back slightly to fix you with a curious gaze, her eyes wide and blue and gleaming, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly. “I have wanted to do… this since our first shoot.” As if to emphasize your point you caressed the curve of Larissa’s hip as you watched for her reaction.

A contented smile spread across Larissa’s face and she leaned in for a kiss, her lips warm and comforting against your own. “I know,” she whispered with a smirk.

“You know? What do you mean you know?” You suddenly remembered that Larissa had mentioned during your intro call that she was the principal of Nevermore Academy and your eyes widened. “You can’t read minds, can you?”

Larissa chuckled at your perplexed expression. “No, I can’t read minds. But I’m afraid you’re not very good at hiding your attraction.” Her tone was teasing and light, and you could feel your cheeks turn scarlet.

“God, I’m so sorry if I creeped you out,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.

“I found it quite endearing actually.” Larissa’s voice was inches away from your ear, her breath washing over the side of your face before she placed a kiss to your cheek. “In case you failed to notice, I’m attracted to you as well.”

Larissa’s fingers found your chin and she tilted your head to face her. Her eyes swam with warmth as she inched towards you until her lips captured yours in a languid kiss.

“Larissa?”

“Yes, darling?”

Darling. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Would it be… I mean would you be interested in… Would you like to-”

The blonde watched you struggle, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter before she (mercifully) cut you off.

“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” She grinned at the blush on your cheeks as you nodded your head. “Yes. I would be interested in going out with you, darling.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss Larissa again, your head clouded with euphoria and your heart pounding. Her hands came to grip your waist and she flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as her lips began to mark every inch of you she could reach, her hands slowly unbuttoning your shirt.

It was something you’d been picturing over and over again since you’d first laid eyes on Larissa - but reality was definitely proving to be better than even your wildest fantasies.

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cherubshert · 3 months

Note

hihi !! i was wondering if u could make a fic about how reader has glasses and enhypen thinks its saur cute (separate members ofc)

thanks so much for reading this!

(֊⎚-⎚)

a/n: these are low-key bad and rushed lol. not edited, this is just fiction:). i hope u like :0

희승

The soft click of the camera signals the end of a session, polaroids hung around to dry, make-up and props littered around your desk. it's small, just you and heeseung, going all out for photography project you had. you pull off your glasses, resting them on the very uncomfortable surface you were sitting on. the dress you have on is simple, hand made by one of your other very close friends. you use your hand to raise it so you don't slip and fall, making your way to were heeseung was crouching.

"are they nice?" "very..." he replies distractedly his attention drawn to the picture in his hand. your head rests on his shoulder, "are you sure my glasses don't ruin the pictures?" "i wouldn't have told you to put them on if they did,you look cute." he leans back to kiss you, short but enough to have you hiding your face in his neck. he smiles before shaking you off. "come on we still have so many to take."

제이

Jay slowly pulls away from you, his face flushed , his hair slightly messy, falling into his eyes. "what happened?" you question, shifting you hands to rest on his shoulder. his smiles and tilts his head admiring your face before answering, "your glasses... kept poking at me." "sorry" you mutter your hands raising to take them of your face. his follow suit, gently brushing your fingers away, his large hand cupping your face. "don't get me wrong, m'not complaining. " his fingers follow the frame of your glasses, tracing round your ear . "it reminded me of how cute you look like this." "like how?" leaned in, rubbing your noses together. you shyly shift away, your back pressed against his desk. your hands going up to adjust your glasses. "like this." he pinches your cheek.

제이크

you let out a sigh, pushing your glasses up to rub your eyes. it's getting late now, the clock turning the second you looked at it '10:36p.m.' you turn over your shoulder, jake seating very comfortably on the couch, the tv playing so low that you were sure he couldn't hear anything. but his consideration to you made your heart flutter.

you stood to your feet, silently making your way to where he was. he jumps slightly when you sit next to him, once he calmed down his hand wrapped around your shoulder pulling you close. "you done with work?" "no but I was getting tired, needed a break." you reach forward grabbing the remote. you lean back into his arms, increasing the volume to the tv.

jake is silent the entire time, his breath so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

feeling your glasses be pulled off your face, shot you out of your trance. "these are so cute on you." he puts it on, turning to you with a smile. his change in energy is definitely alarming, but nothing you're not used to. you mirror his smile reaching forward, cupping his face, squishing his cheeks. "they're even cuter on you." laughter erupts between you two.

you both calm down very quickly, your back pressed to the couch, Jake hovering over you. he very messily puts your glasses on your face, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "you're so gorgeous, but these bring out a different type of beauty." he says drowsily, you giggle, hand raising to brush his hair out of his face. he leans into your touch, sleep easily overtaking him.

성훈

"cut!" you sigh, resting your head on the table. sunghoon silently places a bottle of water beside you, settling in the desk before you looking over his script.

your head rises up finally, leaning on your wrist. "I'm so tired." he smiles at you. "we are almost done for today. just a few more hours." you only grumble in response.

the next hour flies by fast, and soon its time to go home. you two thank the staff , filing out with your small group of managers. "we could go out for a little snack first." sunghoon suggests, you tiredly nod in agreement, following behind him to a café nearby.

its small and cozy, the smell of coffee beans and pastry sugars filling the air, you get something small, sitting by the window to look over the scenes you'd be focusing on tomorrow. your glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.

you don't notice his staring till your orders arrive, looking up to find his eyes on you before they quickly shift away, thanking the waiter.

"you don't wear your glasses very often." you look at him. "oh no, i usually have contacts. " he leans his head on his palm, smiling at you. "they look very cute."

선우

You were rather hard to miss, seated in front of him, your head often hidden behind a book. you're both on very different levels socially. sunoo always being surrounded by a crowd of friends and people he admittedly never met or even cared about. and you, there was only one person he'd ever seen you with.

you drew him in, often finding himself lost in delusional daydreams, surrounding your very unique beauty. a flower, often graced by the sun, your skin shines so magically. one of his favorite things about you was your glasses.

rather large for your face, but ever so beautifully added to your aura. the way you pushed them back when they slipped off your face, the pretty charms you often adorned them with.

so when you, turn back, your eyes meeting his through the lens, his heart flutters, immediately turning back to his note book. he stares at the empty page in distraught, not registering the shuffling of the other students moving around the room, or even the chair placed by his table.

"sunoo?" his head shoots up so fast, "we're supposed to work together on the project." you say as you placed your books down. "oh? okay" he feels a little dazed, closing his notebook and placing them away.

정원

The nurse's office is not really where you wanted to end your day, your leg being bandaged, the nurse giving you advice on how to care for your injury. how did you get hurt? taking pictures of the football team for your school's yearbook, you weren't expecting to be turned into a target of a stray ball...

Jungwon rushes into the room when the nurse exists, an apologetic look on his face. your glasses are held gently in his hand, he's still in his football uniform, telling you he's been waiting since you got here. "I'm really sorry again, i should have been very careful." "it's fine, i was also being reckless." you reach out for your glasses, grabbing them a lot harsher than you wanted.

you put them on, pushing them to a comfortable position. you try to get on your feet, but the bruise on your leg, though small sends pain through you. jungwon very gently pushed to help you walk, some how convincing you to let him walk you home.

The walk to your home is silent, and once you reach your apartment complex, he pass your bag to you. "thank you." "um, by the way, you look really pretty with your glasses on." you turn back to him, your backpack half way on your shoulder. he blushes, "i mean you look pretty in general, but I, you-" "thank you." you say with a smile, pushing your glasses up. "i hope I'm not making you uncomfortable." "not at all, you're very adorable you know. " the last part is so light he barely hears it, his shyly playing with his fingers."thank , thank you." he replies bashfully, "if you still want to take more pictures of the team, i would love to help." "that would be helpful... see you tomorrow." "yes... see you tomorrow."

니키

you dust off your outfit, fixing your jacket and mic. your stylist fixes off your make-up, passing a pair of glasses to you. you put them on, thanking your staff, before rushing to where you were supposed to wait. the director gives you some directions, and telling you the basics about how things will be filmed. you don't notice niki till you turn around, you bow at him and he does the same.

you both stand around awkwardly, waiting for your cue to start. when the instrumental starts, you shift closer to him."your glasses..." he says softly, "they look cute."

#cherubshert diary.#kpop fanfic #kpop x black reader #kpop x poc reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen reactions

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bloompompom · 11 months

Text

Count to Ten

In which you gift your husband a Polaroid camera, granting him exactly ten opportunities to take whatever pictures he wants of you.

♡ content: ~4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/domestic au, established relationship, porn without plot, consenting sexy photos, oral sex (f!receiving & brief m!receiving), body worship, mentions of reader wearing a dress, mentions of spit, pet names, alcohol, eren's a punk but we love him anyway, mushy fluff? idk i think it's cute. ♡ a/n: this has been rotting my brain for weeks so i finally had to bestow this filth upon you, enjoy.

You and Eren had been together for a while now. Married for one year to the day—happy anniversary to you!—and dating much longer than that. So while, yes, today was a big day, it wasn’t as though you hadn’t celebrated countless anniversaries before.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t want to make it special. Of course you did, who wouldn’t? There was more than enough reason to celebrate. You were soul-mated, bursting to the seams, positively buzzing with love. Humming and twirling like Cinderella while doing chores as menial as folding dryer-fresh bath towels.

Cynics would say you were still wandering in the mooniness of new marriage, but you’d argue that had long worn off. Living together, seeing each other at your very worst—chilled, snotty-nosed, curled in sticky, feverish bedsheets—and peeing with the bathroom door wide open didn’t really leave much mystique there, did it?

Or, on the flip side, perhaps it was more apt to say the honeymoon phase never truly ended. The spark never died, the fun never faded, because your husband (Husband! You were still getting used to that) would rather die than let that happen.

You never had to worry about Eren forgetting your anniversary. If anything, he was always one to go over the top if you didn’t reign him in every once in a while. Which was the exact reason you told him you only wanted to go out for dinner, just the two of you, at that fancy-schmancy place—as he liked to call it—downtown.

Keeping in mind that Eren was the type to overdo it, you had a not-so-sneaking hunch he’d buy you a present, no matter how many times you insisted he didn’t need to. In preparation for just that, you planned something. Little, hidden up your sleeve, but all for him.

You were good about sealing your lips, too, despite the gift arriving at your porch days ahead of schedule. You didn’t even drop a single hint when he greeted you after work that evening, the same huge smile on his face as always—“Hi, beautiful!”—squeezing you in those big arms.

And they said marriage, especially the first year, was hard work.

Eren made the dinner reservation, just as you requested, and you managed to hold onto your secret until you returned home for the night, bellies full, with faces warmed and tingly from expensive wine.

“A Polaroid camera?” Eren questioned. He was as delicate about it as he could be—you know, for someone who had never been delicate about anything in his entire life.

A confused smile, though a smile nonetheless, twitched at the corner of his mouth. You could practically see the gears shifting in his head, like he was trying to recall a time he may have mentioned an interest in photography. He did have a habit of starting (and dropping) new hobbies on a near-monthly basis.

Traditionally, the theme for a first-anniversary gift was paper. In a roundabout way, photo paper counted. At least, that was what you told yourself when you bought it.

Paper was supposed to represent a blank slate, ready to be slathered with memories of your new life together. And that was nice and all, but you had another idea in mind for using up the film.

Eren held the camera in his hands. It was already freed from its original packaging, sitting lonely in the box you had wrapped while he was at work.

You inched closer to him on the couch while he inspected it, perching on your knees to drape your arms over his broad shoulders. You ran your hands down the front of his shirt, his toned chest beneath your fingertips. You did it slowly, like you were insinuating something, but Eren couldn’t begin to guess what. You caught the intrigued look on his face as you peered over his shoulder.

You brushed some loose hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek. Eren noted the grin in your voice as you whispered, “I’ve already loaded it with film.” You kissed the spot below his ear, felt the shudder it gave him. “I thought we could use it together.” His neck was next, where his pulse throbbed beneath your lips. “However you’d like. Whenever you’d like.” You moved his shirt’s collar out of the way, trailing your lips lower. “But don’t forget, there are only ten photos, and once you’re out, you’re out.”

It was something for him and him alone. Tucked away in his bedside drawer for those times—though few and far between—when he was left missing you. Sure, you could always text him a photo; you had done so before. But this was different. More personal. Tangible proof that he could hold between his fingers and know you were irrevocably his.

Truthfully, Eren was tempted to ask right then and there if he could keep his favorite in his wallet—whichever photo that may be, the anticipation was ruining him already—but he didn’t want to test his luck yet.

You were glad you decided to hold off exchanging gifts until after dinner. Otherwise, there was no way you would have made your reservation. You didn’t even get the chance to open your present. Not that you minded, obviously. The cute little box sat ignored on the coffee table as Eren tugged you onto his lap. You straddled him as he made out with you, your dress riding higher and higher up your thighs. His hands smoothed from the small of your back to your revealed shoulder blades. His palms, hot and already commanding, pressed you against him, and you let his tongue swipe past your lips.

It was his own Eren-esque way of thanking you for the gift. He’d undoubtedly say it a million times later; you could predict it already. It was just that he was a little occupied right now, what with you helplessly grinding against him and all.

He was already hard by the thought of what he could have you do for him—for the camera. Fuck, you could feel it too, your clothed pussy rutting against him, making a mess of the front of his dress pants as you whimpered into his mouth. It was a gift for him, but you vastly underestimated just how much it’d turn you on as well, knowing how fiercely he craved you, every part of you.

Eren wanted nothing more than to take you then. And he could have, but he’d rather have you strewn beneath him on your soft bed. He wanted to bask in you. The expanse of you, bare, and ready for him. Then, he could snap a photo, freeze time, and savor the sight of you forever.

But was it too soon to take the first photo? Already, Eren was worried about running out of film, and he hadn’t even put a finger to the button. It was a gift, but it might as well have been a curse, and he was sure that was your intention. Even so, he couldn’t take it anymore. All at once, Eren whisked you to your shared bedroom and stripped you from your dress.

It wasn’t long before Eren settled on what was worthy of his first photograph. He wished to capture the very moment he pushed inside you. The look on your face you always wore—the tiny ‘o’ your mouth made, the quirk of your brows—right when he stretched you on his cock. His absolute favorite, even years later (Really, how lucky were you that he was still this obsessed with you?) By now, he had it memorized, that heavenly expression that’d grace your features, lasting no longer than a blink of an eye but now something he could look at ceaselessly. Over and over and over again.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his sweet time with you. No, he wouldn’t let you get off that easily, knowing you were teasing him when you reminded him there were only ten photos.

Eren kissed you deeply with one hand wrapped around the back of your neck. His lips were smooth and slow, thoughtful, kissing you in a way he knew would leave you desperate. He would have you begging for it—for him—before he’d give you just a single drop. He’d wait as long as he deemed necessary, expertly timing his photo to preserve that angelic look you get—the rapturous mix of relief, pleasure, and a desire for more.

You tasted him and the bottle of red wine you shared over dinner. He was sweet on the back of your tongue. You were dizzy, your head thrown back into the feathery pillows as his lips left yours to kiss the side of your face. He dawdled there, hot breath fanning over your ear as he lightly took the lobe of it between his teeth. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as his mouth traveled to your neck next. Then the dip of your collarbone and between your breasts.

He peeled your bra off, one strap at a time, wasting no time to lift you to undo the clasp at your back. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin. The cool bedroom air stood in a woozy contrast to the gentle heat of his mouth. He ran his large hand down your side, comforting your squirming as he flicked your perked nipple with his tongue. You were always so sensitive. It was something he liked best about you.

You felt the sear of it when his lips curled into a smile against your skin. Smug already because you were practically panting, hips writhing beneath him, and he hadn’t even reached for your underwear.

Eren knew you’d gift him the loveliest face when he finally sank inside you, where only he could reach. The bliss that’d wash over you once he tamed the ache between your legs—your gorgeous fucking legs. He slipped your panties down your thighs, wondering if it would be weird if he took a photo of them.

“God, Eren,” you whispered. It was ragged, nothing more than a hobbled breath. “Please.”

A lazy smile tugged at his lips. “Please, what?”

He hovered over you, pressed his forehead to yours. He didn’t just want to hear it but feel it, taste it, when you spoke it into his mouth—when you asked him, with that satiny voice of yours, to please fuck you.

You realized what he was after when he reached for the camera, almost lost in the tangle of clothes and sheets. Eren held himself with one hand planted in the mattress, the tip of his cock laying at your entrance. He angled back to aim the camera straight at your face. Behind it was the signature smirk you knew all too well. Before you could comment, he tilted his hips, filling you in one powerful thrust.

He predicted it, down to the very shape of your mouth. And right when your eyes fluttered shut—flash—it was bright behind your lids.

One down. Nine to go.

You thought Eren would toss the camera aside, fuck you like you wanted him to, but he did the opposite. He immediately pulled out and sat back on his knees, somehow more riveted by the photo than the real you, naked and needy below him. Seriously?

You propped yourself on your elbows with a pout. “Can’t this wait?”

“I wanna see it. It’ll just be a second,” he said, waving the photo in the air.

“I don’t think that does anything.”

He ignored you, impatiently inspected the picture—still developing—then waved it around some more. He didn’t even notice when you perked higher, leaning into him, stealing his attention the only way you knew how.

Yup the camera—and the hazy photo, for that matter—were soon forgotten. Tossed aside the moment you wrapped your dainty fingers around his shaft. You pumped his cock with one hand as you swirled your tongue over his tip, taking him past your wetted lips.

A groan strained from him once your lusty eyes gazed up into his. He had no choice but to reach for the camera again, even in his clouded state with his cock down your throat. How could he not? You looked so magnificent, just like this. Hollowed cheeks, blown-out pupils, swollen lips working up and down his length.

But he’d make it up to you of course. He still needed to thank you for the gift, after all. And once you heard the click of the camera, he did just that, giving you all the attention you deserved.

The third photo, in hindsight, was one you should have seen coming from a mile away, given Eren’s boyish tendencies. If you were to guess, you thought he would have snapped a photo while you were sleeping. An unflattering picture of you with a flailing arm over your head or drool on your pillow—something along those lines.

Oh, don’t worry, he considered it. Eren was actually thisclose to going through with it, thinking it’d be funny to slide you the picture when you least expected it, but he restrained himself. He did take one with his phone, though.

Another, much better, idea popped into his head. He didn’t even need to wait that long, just until you woke up for your morning shower.

Picture it—no pun intended: The metallic slinking of the shower curtain ripping open. The humiliating sound that escaped you, living somewhere between a shriek and a choke. And the snap of that damned camera you were really regretting buying.

“Eren!”

You were surprised you stayed upright, your heart beating so fast you surely thought it had hopped into your throat. You swore it then: there was no doubt this man would be the death of you. Especially with his stupid snickering, steadfast even as you sprayed him with the showerhead.

It was more of a prank than anything. A harmless one at that, if you asked Eren. But prank or not, past the water running down your face, your expression scrunched, he couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on your chest. Nor was it his fault that he happened to catch you before you’d rinsed off, your tits barely hidden behind suds and bubbles. And, well….

“Absolutely not!” you rebuked when he tried to join you, all smooth-like, as if that didn’t just happen. And when you yanked the curtain shut, Eren retreated to the kitchen, giggling to himself while he fixed your morning coffee, exactly how you liked it, in his attempt to get back on your good side.

It was another few days before Eren reminded you of that damned camera’s existence. On a Sunday evening of all days, when you were least expecting it. Okay, maybe the shower incident claimed that title, but this was an extremely close second.

Earlier, you had told him you planned to watch the newest season of your favorite show, uninterrupted. It had just dropped, and you wanted to squeeze in as many episodes as possible before bed. He didn’t seem to think much of it—even said he’d come and join you at some point. That is, until you passed one another in the hallway.

“You can’t do this to me, babe,” Eren groaned, almost a complaint but more like a whine, as if you were purposefully doing something to spite him.

The soft smile you greeted him with drooped.

“Do what?” you asked, plopping onto the couch and snuggling between its cushions.

Eren shot you a look, his head cocked to the side—‘Come on already’—like you couldn’t possibly be serious.

But it was an honest question. The only thing you had done in the last thirty seconds was walk by him on your merry way back from the kitchen, oversized snack bowl in hand and filled to the brim, clad in one of his old tees and a pair of underwear—

Oh.

Eren turned to leave the room, and you just got this feeling.

You set the bowl on the end table and called for him in a drone of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you’re getting the Polaroid.”

He shouted back, “You know it,” and by the sound of it, he was already halfway to the bedroom where he kept it.

He returned just as hastily as he disappeared, camera in hand. Surprise, surprise.

You bit back your amused smile as you watched him sink to his knees on the floor before you. He traced a hand up the length of your thigh, toying with the band of your underwear with his fingertips.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he said in that low voice you loved—the one you always felt in your chest, like the thrum of a bass.

“Right now?” you questioned, despite raising your hips once he hooked your panties around his fingers. You shimmied, helping Eren slither them down your legs until they hung at your ankle before flopping to the floor.

“You said whenever I wanted, didn’t you?” he teasingly reminded. You made a face, and it pulled a chuckle from under his breath. “And I still have seven photos left.”

You couldn’t fight off your grin. It was coquettish and bashful as he beamed up at you, eyes darkened and dreamy, like his entire world was between your thighs.

Eren had you lay back into the corner of the couch. He closed a hand around your ankles, one by one, bending your legs at the knee to place your feet onto the cushions—spreading you for him. The only decency left between you was his baggy shirt.

“Hold it out of the way for me, baby. I wanna see you.”

You lifted the hem of it to expose your bare pussy to him.

Fucking perfect. “Yeah, like that.” He got this cheesy look on his face, pointing the camera to capture all of you, fully on display. “Now, smile.”

Part of you wanted to kick the smirk right off his face. But you’d never do that; you were so weak to him, a flouncy giggle leaving you as your husband tickled at your side. You couldn’t help that it was entirely endearing, not to mention flattering, that he found you, even like this, deeply irresistible.

“Gotcha,” he boasted with the snap of the shutter.

Unlike the first time, he abandoned the camera immediately. Wholly unable to contain himself—captivated by you splayed before him, at face-level, like that—he looped his arms around your thighs. He pulled you closer, your legs slipping from the couch and comfortably onto his shoulders.

“God, I fucking love you,” he breathed, intended for you but spoken right between your legs, his eyes fixed there. He licked you once with no warning, no teasing, only his tongue swiping through you. “You gonna let me return the favor since you were so good for the camera?”

A sharp gasp escaped you, like a hiss, and your head lolled back between your shoulders. You bobbed your head in an eager yes, and he lapped at you a few more times. Slow and wet strokes of his tongue before he focused on your clit. Kissing it, flicking a pointed tongue against it, kindling the fire in the low part of your stomach. Your breathing quickened.

The more you wiggled, the firmer his grip on you, the blunt of his nails burrowing into your thighs. You noticed the sting of it when he released your right thigh.

Eren took your hand into his and laid it on the camera at your side. His mouth only left you to say, “I want you to take a picture. One of your face. Can you do that for me?”

He kissed the crease of your inner thigh, his breath hot on your skin, but you felt it glow at the base of your spine.

“Take it right when I make you come, okay?”

The plea in his voice, the honeyed coo of it—it softened you. No, it absolutely melted you. It wasn’t demanding in the slightest but a needful, urgent request.

Eren knew how much you loved when he went down on you; you always made that very clear with those sweet, tiny moans of yours. He was always ready, willing, and more than happy to oblige, but he could admit he hated missing out on your face when you came on his tongue. He wanted to learn it for himself, see how you looked with your head thrown back in ripples of pleasure. And he wanted to have it forever, for safekeeping.

He only continued where he left off once you agreed and took the camera between your hands. Eren worked his way back to the pace you liked, steadily at first, kissing and making out with your pussy until he sucked at your clit with plush lips. And when he added the tip of his tongue, your stomach started to coil.

Selfishly, you thought he looked like he was meant to be there. Handsome as ever, his dazy, green eyes bright against the flushed hue of his cheeks. You lifted a hand to his head, brushing the curtain of hair from his face.

“I’m going to take one of you,” you giggled airly. You angled the camera toward Eren, the lewd sight of him worshipping between your legs.

As if you had yanked a fire alarm, he immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Don’t,” he exclaimed. He turned the camera away from him. “It was my gift, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but conceded only because you really wanted him to continue. He wasn’t above toying with you, if that wasn’t obvious enough already.

Eren closed his mouth over your pussy. He was sloppy about it, spitting and spreading it over you with the flat of his tongue.

You let the camera fall beside you, hands twitching and tensing like you needed to grab ahold of something—him, the Polaroid, your last smidgen of sanity—you didn’t know what. That iron-hot coil in your stomach wound and clenched. Closer and closer to coming undone, you rolled over his tongue, him encouraging you as he moved your hips with you.

“Come for me, baby.” It was a slurry of words, a wet mumble against you. Every syllable was another vibration through you, bringing you to the very edge.

You picked up the camera with shaky arms.

“Make it real pretty for me,” he told you.

You didn’t want to imagine what sort of contorted face you would make, and you wouldn’t dare peek at the photo later, but you aimed the lens at your face anyway. It was his anniversary gift, after all—one you thought of, at that. No going back now, so you might as well make sure he got the most out of it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes screwed shut.

“It’s a photo, not a video,” he taunted as your whimpers grew louder.

“Fuck off, Eren,” you whined into your breathy moan of an exhale. You laced a hand in his pretty brown hair and pushed his loud mouth back between your legs.

You came then, hard, cursing and crying out your husband’s name. It was a miracle you could even snap the photo. But you did, and you chucked the camera aside, unconcerned as to where it might land.

The feeling was overwhelming—nearly too much. As you twisted away from his mouth, Eren knew it was his cue to bring you closer, to pull you down onto his tongue the way you wanted him to. His grasp on you was firm, but his thumb drew soothing circles against your skin, right where the fat of your thighs met your hips.

Once you were a mere puddle of yourself, limply lying across the couch, Eren licked his lips clean to reveal his flashy smile. He didn’t look for the photograph this time—a lesson in patience—but crawled onto the couch to pull you into his arms.

Eren tucked your head beneath his chin, his nose pushed into the crown of your head, breathing you in. He smoothed a loving hand up and down your back, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“Five left. Think you can handle it?”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren smut

1K notes · View notes

virginsexgod69 · 1 month

Text

❝ Video Star — ✩❞

pairing (Season 7) Negan Smith x f!Reader

cw smut, unprotected p in v, slight humiliation, pussy slapping, bow jobs, name calling/ pet names, sex tapes, porn photography?

summary You and Negan have some fun with a digital camera you found on a run.

note ahh this is my first time writing for negan, so i hope it's okay... jdm is just tooo fine. i have wild thoughts whenever he's on screen 🫦

1.5k words

...

"Smile!" you said before snapping the photo, taking Dwight off guard. The picture was blurry and unfocused and due to the flash, he was squinting and not even looking at the camera.

"The hell?" he questioned looking at you crazy. "It's a camera, duh. Found it on a run," you explained. He walked off in an annoyed huff leaving you wondering what crawled up his ass and died. You continued walking about the sanctuary taking pictures of unsuspecting people.

"Laura! Say cheese," you prompted the blonde woman as she approached you. She rolled her eyes and held her hand up to the camera, affectively ruining the picture.

"Negan wants to see you," she said. You turned off the camera and looped the strap around your wrist before heading toward his room. What is was he wanted, you had no clue. Your relationship with the man in charge was an odd one. Toeing the line between wife and solider, you had no clue where you stood. Sometimes he sent you on runs, other times he spoiled you with little treats so you wouldn't have to spend any of your points. Once, when he called you in to have a glass of 30 year old scotch with him, the two of you ended up fucking in a drunken haze which lead to regular hookups. You knocked on the door once you arrived and waited patiently for him to let you in, wondering what he wanted and hoping it was to hook up.

He opened the door, revealing him leaning against the door frame in his white t-shirt with Lucille in hand. You stood there nervously, not knowing what to say or what mood to expect from him.

"You just gonna stand there lookin' stupid or you gonna come in?" He asked. He had such a way with words. You stepped into the large room and let him lead you to the couch by the small of your back. You sat in the chair facing the couch he took a seat in.

"Got a little somethin' for ya," he said with a wolfish grin on his face. You relaxed a little as he seemed fairly happy.

"What is it?" you asked, excitement lacing your voice. He reached behind his back and tossed a ball of white fabric at you. You held it up and revealed it was a sheer, lace babydoll dress. Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized that he expected you to put it on.

"Um...could you look away while I change," you asked shyly.

"I've seen you naked, been inside you, but you don't want me to see you change?" he mocked.

"Neeegaan," you whined. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, but covered his eyes with his hand nonetheless. You made quick work of stripping off your clothes, including you underwear, and put on the sheer number. It was a bit small. It struggled to contain your breasts and stopped at your mid-upper thigh, but to Negan, it added to your sex appeal.

"Goddamn, baby. You look fuckin' hot!" He said as he admired you. It was so sheer it barely left anything to the imagination and the lacy parts made you look angelic.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you teased with newfound confidence brought on by Negan's words. Then you remembered your digital camera. "Here." You tossed the camera to him. He caught it and smirked when he realized what it was. A lustful look washed over his eyes as he turned the device on.

"On your knees," he ordered using his leader voice. You quickly and eagerly obeyed him, which only made his dick harden in his pants. He walked over to you and grabbed you jaw in a large hand, tilting it up to look at him before snapping a picture.

"Just look at you. My pretty little doll." And that's exactly what you felt like. His pretty little doll. His to dress and pose and fuck however he wants. It made you wet, giving him full control over you like this.

"Take those panties off." Your body was hot with lust and shame as you slid the moistening garment off your body.

"Get on all fours." You did so and he manually readjusted you to how he wanted. Your ass in the air and back arched with your chin rested on your arms crossed beneath you. The skirt of the dress slid up your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. Negan snapped a few pictures of your face before moving behind you. You squeaked in shock when you felt his finger slide up and down your slit.

"Damn. So wet and I barely touched you." The humiliation of him taking pictures of your bare pussy only made you wetter. You got on your knees again and turned to face Negan.

"Let's make a sex tape," you suggested as you fiddled with his belt. His signature grin blossomed on his face and he looked down at you with lust filled, hazel eyes.

"Fuck yeah!" He started recording once you got his belt off and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. It sprang up, hitting his abdomen and revealing veins you could only see when he was erect. You took him in your hands, licking the precum off his sensitive tip before taking it in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it while slowly stroking the rest with your hands.

"Quit your goddamn teasing and suck my dick," he impatiently demanded. You looked up into the camera with mischief laden eyes as you took the rest of him into your warm mouth, earning a guttural moan from the man. Your pussy fluttered at the sound. Eager to hear it again, you stopped teasing and picked up the pace. But it must not have been enough since Negan grabbed into your hair and began fucking your face at his own rapid pace, ignoring the way you gagged around his large member and the tears streaming down your pretty face.

"That's it. Takin' me so good doll." Your cunt throbbed at the praise. He was getting close, you could tell by the way he twitched inside your mouth. He groaned as he emptied his white hot load down your throat.

"You did so good baby," he praised as he wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. He helped you up off the floor before pushing you onto his bed.

"Show me that pretty little cunt of yours." He spread open your legs and zoomed the camera in on your soaked pussy. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, as well. He delivered a rough slap to your pussy, forcing a moan out of you.

"You like it when I hit you, huh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he did it again.

"Please Negan! Need you so bad," you begged from beneath him. He ignored your pleas and directed the camera to your breasts, which were barely contained by the babydoll. He pulled them out with little effort. He gave you the camera to hold while he focused his attention to them.

"Such pretty tits," he complimented before nipping your nipple. You squealed in shock and pleasure. He had never done that before, but you liked it. With a flattened tongue, he licked the nipple he bit, soothing it before taking it into his mouth. The scratch of his beard felt so good on your sensitive, bare breasts. He rolled the nipple that wasn't in his mouth between his thumb and pointer finger, causing you to squirm.

"Need you inside," you slurred. Negan pulled away from you r breast with a pop and took the camera back from you.He zoomed in on his own hard-again dick as he lined it up with your sopping hole. You were so wet he slid in effortlessly. You moaned in ecstasy as he finally put out that fire that was burning in you. He didn't hesitate as he started thrusting into you at a merciless pace. The leader couldn't decide if he wanted to focus the camera on the way your cunt swallowed him hole, the outline of his dick protruding through your stomach, your tits as they bounced in unison with his rapid thrusts, or your eyes rolling back in the head of your fucked out face. He zoomed out, capturing the beauty of it all.

"Such a good little fucktoy for me," he admonished. His words brought you closer to the edge as your walls clamped down on his cock.

"Negan 'm gnna," your own moan cut off your nonsensical, fucked babbles.

"So drunk on my cock," he grunted as he filled you with his seed, not waiting for you to reach your own peak. But he didn't have to since you came right after, arching off the bed. He pulled out and zoomed the camera in on your abused cunt. His cum slowly leaked out of your hole and onto the dark bed spread. That was the perfect place to end the video, he decided.

"Hot damn. Were you a porn star before the world went to shit?"

...

not proofread, sorry! thanks for reading! <3

i uploaded this from my phone, so sorry if it's a bit of a mess.

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