It is done! amazing balls I actually kept my word!
So thanks to @rifcringes posting some videos by Thomas Sanders, who I had heard of but never, that I can remember, watched anything of so I went and checked him out and I absolutely love his stuff! :D he’s amazing! So was this created!
I ended up watching his vines compilations and found 3 which made me think of Undertale immediately, and this is one of them! based on one of the vines HERE
I have no idea what is going on with Scratch’s eye light thingie, tried to like combine the original blue and yellow of UT Sans and then add some purple, looks weird or maybe that’s just me? it reminds me of candy for some reason
Also for those people who don’t use feet and inches to measure height, Papy is 221 cm aka 2 m and 21 cm and Scratch 141 cm aka 1 m and 41 cm. went with these two because Papy is the tallest and Scratch the shortest in my head when it comes to the skellies in UT, US, UF and SF~
Edit: realised I forgot to add a little black dot in Scratch’s magic eye, fixed now~
I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE WILL'S NIPPLES and also the way you write Will's everything tbh. I feel like no one understands what a terrible tease Will is quite like you. ALSO The Game is my most favorite thing you've ever written YOU ARE FAB NEVER FORGET IT <3
THANK YOU!!! Please accept some gratuitous s1 nipple fun.
In two hours Will will be giving a lecture in front of fifty aspiring FBI agents. It was nearly nine in the morning and Will was sitting on one of his dining room chairs with his feet in a bucket of hot water, trying to make himself appear relaxed, knowing he would not be able to. Hannibal was too good at reading people and, somehow, especially Will, for Will to feign anything.
He had walked in his sleep last night. Woken by Buster nipping at his toes. He had wandered into the middle of his fields, his house a distant dot in the horizon. He had had to pull seven prickly thorns out of his legs and feet.
He had called Hannibal and Hannibal had driven here despite Will’s half-hearted protests. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be seen like this by Hannibal.
Hannibal, with his hair loose, had given him one look and knew everything and still he kissed Will. Delicately and lingering until Will trembled and was grasping at Hannibal’s jacket.
“You need to relax. To calm down.” Hannibal had said. Will had simply nodded. Anything would be good, he did not care.
Hannibal filled one of Will’s buckets with hot water from the shower. He eased Will’s feet inside and smiled when Will moaned, the ache of his heels and between his toes easing out of him.
Form the kitchen, Hannibal had brought out Will’s half used bottle of olive oil. He held it up, like an offering that Will did not quite understand.
“Will you let me touch you, Will?” Hannibal said, as if Will would say no. Refuse him now, after everything.
“Yeah.” Will said. Please.
Hannibal stood in front of Will and poured oil onto Will’s chest. It soaked into Will’s shirt completely, causing the light blue cotton to turn transparent. He began to pant. Unable to move his feet, to spread his legs wider, he could only shift in his seat.
“I feel like a pig about to be roasted whole.”
“An apt analogy, though I don’t plan on eating you as thoroughly as that.” Hannibal said. He rolled his sleeves up. His suit jacket folded neatly over a chair on the opposite side of the table. He had a professional air about him, clinical almost, if not for the slight tremble of his hands.
He pulled a chair up behind Will and sat, embracing Will from behind.
“It’s all right.” Hannibal said into Will’s ear. He kissed Will’s neck and his hands–big and blunt and precise–gripped his thighs and in one long, smooth, horribly wonderful motion, dragged up Will, over his hips, fingers glancing just shy of his thin tented boxers, over his belly that heaved with every breath, and stopping on his chest to squeeze.
The oil smoothed every motion of Hannibal’s hands. His pinches were like liquid, flowing from one harsh pinch of his nipple to soothing them easily with the cup of his palm. He kneaded Will’s chest, lighting every nerve inside of Will, knowing exactly how to work him up and up until Will was clutching at the back of Hannibal’s hands, saying without words harder harder harder.
Will tensed, his body clenching and convulsing as he came, his feet kicking out and knocking the bucket over, water splashing all over the floor.
Will held Hannibal to him, listened to how heavy Hannibal was breathing and without needing to look over his shoulder knew Hannibal was flushed and spent.
“I think I’m going to fall asleep right here.” Will said. It was true. He could fall asleep like this and worry about cleaning before he had to leave. A ten minute nap sounded amazing.
“Let me clean you up.” Hannibal moved his hands and Will’s entire body twitched. He gasped, nearly squeaked. Hannibal paused and then squeezed him again this time, rolling his nipples between his fingers, his shirt adding coarse, wet friction.
“Maybe in a minute.” Will said shakily. “Can we do that again?”
If you know a bit about autism, or have been following this blog for some time, you must be aware that one of the autistic traits which has the most consequences on our daily lives is our sensory differences. They have an impact on all spheres of our lives: on what we can and cannot do, on where we can and cannot go, on what we can eat, wear, listen to, on our ways to feel good and on what makes us feel bad.
Such a wide subject definitely warrants a masterpost. So, here we go!
First, let’s take a look at the human sensory system, to understand the different areas in which there can be differences. It’s actually more complicated than the traditional five senses! Our sensory system is divided into three parts:
Exteroception : sensing what comes from the environment outside your body.
Interoception : sensing the internal physiological condition of your body
Proprioception : sensing the position your limbs and body are in
These three main areas encompass different senses (note that this is one model and others exist):
Exteroception: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, but also thermoception (sensation of heat/cold) and nociception (sensation of pain)
Interoception: nociception (internal pain), feelings of hunger, lack of oxygen, thirst, need to pee, as well as monitoring of the respiratory rate and heart rate.
Proprioception: the kinesthetic sense (knowledge of the movement and relative positions of your body parts) and the vestibular sense (knowledge of body movement, direction and acceleration)
For all of these senses, autistic people can have them work typically, be hyposensitive (less sensitive than most people), be hypersensitive (more sensitive than most people) or have sensory processing differences which do not fall under the hypo/hyper system.
The clinical term which encompasses these differences is “Sensory Processing Disorder”. One can have SPD without being autistic, but all or almost all autistic people have SPD.
It should be noted, however, that some autistic people don’t like to think of it as a disorder and prefer simply talking about sensory processing differences.
Something very important to understand is that hypersensitivity and hyposensitivity CAN coexist in any one person’s sensory system. For example, they might be hypersensitive to smell and hyposensitive to touch. They can also be hyper/hypo sensitive to only one aspect of one sense (for instance, pressure or texture or bright lights or sweet tastes). They can also be sometimes hyposensitive to something, and sometimes hypersensitive to it.
Being hypersensitive to a stimulus and being exposed to it can cause what is called “sensory overload”, which usually translates to pain, discomfort, and impaired cognitive functions (in other words, trouble thinking properly). If pushed further (very intense stimuli or very long exposition), it can lead to a shutdown or meltdown.
Being hyposensitive to something and lacking stimulation can translate to restlessness, discomfort, and even pain, as well as an intense craving for the stimuli.
Here are some examples of what hypersensitivity to different senses can translate to, on a behavioral and subjective level:
Sight: The person wears sunglasses, maybe even indoors. They avoid places with fluorescent lightning, blinking lightning or too bright lightning. They dislike looking at brightly colored surfaces. They may have trouble with visually cluttered spaces, such as crowds and supermarkets. They may find any kind of flickering or movement around them painful to see.
Hearing: They may hear sounds no one else can hear (and some have been tested to hear outside the normal human range). They may have to wear headphones/ear defenders in noisy places. They may avoid crowds and events with lots of people/loud music/shouting. They may have difficulty with the noise of the vacuum, of the construction work on the other side of the street, of the clock ticking in the next room. They may develop tinnitus eventually.
Smell: They’ll probably dislike places with strong smells such as perfume shops, farms, or crowded public transportation. They may need to wash themselves, their clothes and their sheet very often to keep body odors to a minimum. They may not tolerate scented soap, shampoo or deodorant (and it’s sometimes difficult to find an unscented one!). They may struggle with the smell of food in general, or with particular smells.
Taste: They may be very picky eaters, only tolerating a couple of very bland-tasting food such as mashed potatoes or pasta. They may have difficulty having diverse enough diets with all the nutrients they need. They may always eat the exact same thing.
Touch: They may have trouble finding clothing with a texture that they can tolerate. They may need to cut all the tags off their clothing. They may absolutely hate anyone touching them. They may be ok with firm touch, but find light brushy touches painful. They may have trouble wearing specific items of clothing, such as socks/shoes, headphones or hats. They may hate people touching their hair, or find brushing their hair very difficult. They may find brushing their teeth nearly impossible because of the scratching sensation. They may have trouble with the texture of many foods, and be a picky eater because of that.
Thermoception: They may be very sensitive to cold, and always wearing loads of clothing and turning the heating up even when other people don’t think it’s that cold. They may be very sensitive to heat, finding summer very hard to cope with, especially if they don’t have access to AC. They may be hyper-aware of tiny changes in temperature, feeling cold when it is dropping and hot when it is rising regardless of the actual temperature.
Nociception: They may be more sensitive to pain than most people, and find very painful what most people would shrug off. (They’re not being a drama queen! They really do feel more pain!)
Vestibular sense: They may get motion sickness very easily.
And here are some examples for hyposensitivity:
Sight: The person may have trouble finding things in visually crowded environments. They may enjoy looking at bright colored lights or at objects in motion (spinning top/twirling fingers…)
Hearing: They may not notice being called or being talked to, especially when focused. They may enjoy listening to very loud music, singing, or making lots of noises.
Smell: They may not notice smells which other people do. They may enjoy strong smells such as perfume, essential oils or body odor. They may enjoy sniffing a favorite blanket, a significant other, a pet, or anything they like.
Taste: They may be able to ingest an impressive amount of spicy food, and may crave strong tasting food (pepper, lemon, salt, sugar…).
Touch: They may love rubbing/touching favorite textures, rubbing their hands together… They may love and crave deep pressure, such as having heavy weights on top of them.
Thermoception: They may be outside in winter with just a T-shirt, or not be bothered by the heat in summer and even wear a sweater. They may enjoy touching very hot things such as radiators or very hot water, or very cold things like ice cubes or snow.
Nociception: They may be less sensitive to pain than most people and not notice it when they’ve been hurt.
Vestibular sense: They may love roller coasters, boat rides when there’s a lot of waves… They may never get motion sickness of any sort. They may spend time rocking or like to chill upside down.
Kinesthetic sense: They may be very clumsy since they have a poor sense of the position of their body in space. They may stumble a lot and be generally bad at sports. They may have trouble with fine motor skills such as handwriting or sewing. They may enjoy doing repetitive motions such as hand flapping.
Interoception: They may have trouble noticing when they are hungry, thirsty, tired, or when they need to go to the bathroom. They may need to set alarms or to have self-care at set times as part of their routine.
These are of course only examples and hyper or hyposensitivity can express themselves in as many ways are there are people who experience them.
Here are some examples of other sensory differences autistic people can experience:
Synesthesia seems more frequent among autistic people than in the general population. It is defined as a transfer from one sensory modality to another: for example, seeing sounds or hearing tastes. It can also mean associating colors or personalities to numbers/letters. In autistic people specifically, it can be a very positive thing (you can now stim with two senses at the same time!) or something painful (these bright lights are awful, well now they’re harsh noises too).
We often struggle with processing sensory information, especially speech, which can mean we can have a lot of trouble understanding what people say, might take a lot of time to process speech (which results in conversations such as” “Hey, will you get me this thing please?” “What?” “I said, will-” “Oh yeah, sure”), and might need subtitles to be able to understand movies. Processing information from two different senses at a time can also be difficult, which often translates as “I can either look at the images or understand what’s being said”. This is one of the causes of our struggle with eye contact.
That’s all for today. We hope this helped. We are currently preparing a masterpost on stimming which will be quite related to this one. Happy writing!
He loves to call you this ever since you first said “I love you”. He remembers the way you were so shocked when he finally said it to you. He remembers the way your eyes lit up so wide and the biggest smile grew on your face. Scott loves to make you blush and smile by calling you love. His favourite thing is when he just randomly calls you it, and you shiver every time because it makes you so happy. Just the word coming out of his mouth can make your day.
Stiles, being the sarcastic human that he is, only really uses pet names in two circumstances; if he’s making a stupid comment or really looking after you. For example, if you’re both in class and you get something wrong, he will say something snarky like “Seriously babe? You didn’t get that?” Stiles does it purposely because he knows you blush and cringe at his words. But then you can also get sensitive Stiles, the one who really loves you and will do anything to care for you. If you’re upset or worried about something, he will gently rub your back and place a kiss on the top of your head, whispering soft words like “You can do this baby” and “I love you, baby” just because he can, and just because he loves you.
Derek loves to spoil you and treat you like royalty. Like his princess. You love the way he will compliment you randomly, whether it be on something small like he likes the way your hair looks, or something big, such as he loves the way your eyes light up when he walks in the room. Derek knows that you have a really long day with school and then work straight after, so when you get time to go to his loft, he makes a big deal for you. He will relax you by giving you massages and telling his princess how much he loves her and playing with your hair to make you melt into his arms. It’s in those special moments that Derek realises he will never get so lucky in life then when he managed to get you to be his princess.
You hate this nickname so much, but at the same time you love it with all your heart. It started off when you were teasing Liam over text and you tried to call him “a silly little pup” but it autocorrected as “bub”. He then turned the teasing on you and now calls you this nickname to annoy the hell out of you. But you don’t mind really, because it comes from Liam. If it was anyone, you would snap their arm off at the elbow, but because it was YOUR Liam that did the messing around, you didn’t care. You loved it. But he was never to find out ;)
Isaac loves to make you feel good…yes like that but also by simply calling you nicknames that make you smile. If he knows that you’re feeling down, he will make an extra effort to make you feel special. He will do simple things like kiss you for a long time, buy you flowers or hug you tightly, or it could be massive gestures like taking you out for dinner. He knew you dealt with body image issues and constantly doubted yourself, but he told you not to. He makes you feel like a princess and would do anything to make sure you knew it. Isaac loves you with his whole heart and won’t ever let you forget it.
Prompt: ‘I always want to come home to you’ or alternatively, ‘part one of giving Harry a blowjob in front of his friends.’
I’ve taken this request from the drabble list from ages ago and made it into part one of this concept. I understand that this concept is not everyone’s cup of tea, you don’t have to read this by any means, just skip over it if it’s not for you. 😂 Thank you all for being so patient and I hope you like it. P.S. I don’t know yet when part two will be posted.
 ‘Bout showing you off. [MATURE.]
Obviously she hadn’t just ended up sliding her lips up and down his cock for his friends to watch, without deciding beforehand she was going to slide her lips up and down his cock for his friends to watch.
Anyway, with that said, it’s late and she’s got to be up early tomorrow. And that would have been rough anyway but they’re only now stumbling through their front door. Harry’s head nearly spinning and she’s just shrieked thinking their coat hanger was a person.
‘You’re fuckin pissed.’ He laughs closing the door behind them.
‘Thought it was a person,’ she groans. ‘A very tall person.’
To be fair, sober isn’t what Harry is either.
She stumbles her way into the kitchen with the heels that are no longer helping anyone. She knows that if she drinks a bedtime tea now, tomorrow wont be so cruel. So she chucks her shoes off, each one flying off somewhere else as she climbs on top of their kitchen counter in search for chamomile.
‘Get the fuck down from there,’ he groans. ‘M’too sloshed to help you if you fall.’
‘If you hadn’t gone and put the bloody mugs on the highest fuckin shelf wouldn’t have to climb like a fuckin koala in my own home.’ She whines.
‘Get down from there.’ He grins. ‘M’being serious, know I don’t look like m’being serious because m’a bit drunk but m’serious. Come down from there.’
‘M’already regretting living with you.’ She knocks down several tea boxes as she finds the right one. ‘And we only just signed the papers!’ She slowly finds her way down from the countertop.
‘Coz of the mugs?’
‘Coz of the mugs.’ She agrees. She remembers the water, how she needs to boil water for tea. She was just thinking hard down at her mug trying to figure out why she couldn’t drink it yet and what could be missing.
‘Fuck!’ Harry yells from the foyer.
‘Ouch!’ She steps over her pointy heels getting to the kettle.
‘Thought you was a person!’ Harry groans loudly at their coat hanger.
‘I told you so!’ She calls to him as she flicks the kettle on
‘No, you’re not boiling water right now!’ Harry calls from where he is.
‘M’gonna be sick on the plane! M’gonna be the drunk lady that vomited on the plane. Tequila, scallops and prawns and god knows what else I ate tonight.’
‘Them chocolate strawberries.’ He pulls her away from the kitchen counter, switching off the kettle. She’s in no state of mind to handle hot water right now. But he opens the fridge to take out a much needed water bottle.
‘You let me eat those?’ She whines. She’s trying to lay off the sugar for the next week and a half. She knows nothing will come out of it, chocolate is a food group of hers but she’s interested in the experiment.
‘Three of those cookie sandwich type things too. The ones with the ice cream?’
‘Three!’ She groans.
‘Three.’ He answers.
‘And you didn’t want to remind me about—’
‘Have you seen yourself after three shots of—’
‘The worst,’ she huffs. ‘You’re the absolute worst. First the mugs and now the ice cream sandwiches with the chocolate strawberries.’ She groans. ‘And now m’gonna be sick on the plane.’
He just nods, agreeing but they really need to get upstairs to sleep. His feet are heavy, can barely carry himself let alone his girlfriend who’s stumbling just the same.
‘C’mon now, one at a time.’
‘Need my shoes.’ She wiggles out of his grasp. She doesn’t, she needs to sleep but she’s already managed out of his hold.
‘No you don’t, can’t have you breaking a foot in those when you can’t even walk without them.’
Harry doesn’t finish his sentence because he’s exchanged words for loud laughs as she slips on her heels, each on the wrong foot. ‘Stop laughing at me,’ she glares as he hunches over, his tummy aching from the laughs she’s causing him.
‘Leave ‘em, you’re gonna fall and break something.’ He pulls her up from the floor, holding her up by her arm. They manage the steps, a few at a time until they get to the end of the landing to their bedroom.
‘Drink.’ He hands her the uncapped water bottle. She takes large gulps before handing it back to him and demanding he do the same.
She gets her dress off after pulling down the straps. She turns to the long mirror to help her locate the clasp of her bra, there’s no way she’s finding it on her own in this state. This is her pajama every night anyway, just her underwear. She finds it silly not to take advantage of the weather when she’s here and not in London where she’s slept with two pairs of socks on more than once.
‘Meant what I said.’ He calls to her over the running water as she washes her face.
‘Bout what?’ He hears her as the water shuts off. She walks out of the bathroom with her body butter, handing it to him. ‘You say a lot of things.’ She grins. He takes it from her, patting the empty side of the bed next to him. She lays down as he hovers over her partially. She’s much too tired to do this herself and he likes doing it anyway.
‘Bout showing you off.’ He uncaps the scented body lotion that he’ll always associate with her.
It isn’t night time or bedtime if she isn’t rubbing lotion into her skin. One of Harry’s first memories was just this, the smell, the one she left on his sheets when they were still just ‘figuring it out.’ That smell, her smell eases his shoulders always.
He’s quite thorough in the way he works his hands across her body. She sighs, her eyelids heavy as he rubs the lotion over her. He works across her legs, laying each one down back on the bed gently after he’s finished. He leaves soft kisses by the inside her leg as she squirms slightly against the sheets. She squeals too as he kisses up her navel back to her chest.
She turns on her stomach so he can get the back of her too. ‘Showing me off?’ She asks herself, trying to understand it. ‘Hmm,’ She hums in understanding.
His hands travel over her back, he kisses the soft skin there before rolling his hands down over her bum. He’s got nice hands, big too, perfect for doing just this. And she likes his hands on her. And they like her body.
‘What does ‘hmm’ mean?’ He asks.
‘Nothing yet.’ She smiles. ‘Still thinking.’
He makes sure to get everywhere he can, rubs the body cream into the back of her hands and up to her fingertips too before kissing them softly.
‘There,’ he kisses her shoulder. ‘All done.’ He says screwing the cap back on and setting it back on the nightstand.
‘Spank me.’ She grins against her pillow.
‘Not tonight.’ He chuckles loudly. ‘Not when you’ve got to sit on a plane for hours tomorrow, m’not that mean.’
‘You are.’ She mutters.
‘For not spanking me when m’asking nicely for it.’
‘Can’t hate me tomorrow then.’
‘I won’t,’ she shakes her head against the plush pillow. ‘Just for the chocolate strawberries and them cookie sandwiches. And the tequila, m’gonna really hate you for that.’
She shudders slightly but smiles when he’s got his lips trailing down the line of her back.
‘Put them back on,’ she mumbles. ‘Your rings.’
‘You’re really gonna hate me tomorrow.’ He reaches back over to nightstand where he’s left them before rubbing his hands over her with lotion.
‘M’only giving you three.’ He says.
‘I know,’ she grins. ‘Because you’re mean.’
‘Stop.’ She whines. ‘We’ve already established that you’re the worst. What does a girlfriend have to do to get her boyfriend to spank her?’ She sighs.
Harry laughs as he props her up on her knees. He hooks his thumbs at the sides of her underwear, pulling them down the swell of her backside. ‘You know exactly what.’
‘Acting out.’ She replies.
‘Was too drunk to remember to act out so you’d spank me when we got home.’ She bites over her bottom lip when he cups her bum, picking his mark.
She hears it long before she feels it. She exhales sharply when the sting sets in until she lets out a moan that maddens him. Her wobbly knees and his swat across her bum jolt her forward as her back arches into a picture he thinks about a lot.
‘M’good.’ she breathes. ‘Again, do it again please.’
The silver of his rings are no longer cold against her blazing skin when they meet her backside for the second time. She’s got proper marks now, both cheeks red, some parts redder than others depending on where his rings landed.
Both of them will never get tired of this, the way her skin blossoms into a pink then into a red, the sting that aches but tingles perfectly and the sounds both of the actual spank and her moans and whimpers.
‘You’re good at this, told you that before haven’t I?’ She smirks attempting to move back slightly to get more of it. ‘Harder this time.’
‘Gonna remember you telling me this tomorrow right? When you’re whining about how it stings getting your jeans on?’
‘Won’t wear jeans then.’ She sturdies herself with her palms flat on the mattress, neck stretched back waiting.
He pulls her hair to one side, wrapping it around his hand pulling her head back slowly. ‘Remember this then, how you were asking for it.’ He whispers below her ear.
His hand comes down harder on the already red and sensitive skin. This one has her knees buckling and her moans are let out into the pillows when she falls to her stomach once her hands and knees fail her.
He lowers himself to hover slightly over her back, kissing down the line of it while rubbing his hand into the taut skin. He throws her panties to the floor knowing her skin would reject the idea of putting them back on. And he prefers this sight much more.
‘Good?’ He asks turning her to lay on her back to face him and she hums contently. ‘M’I gonna have to do this every time you ask me to rub lotion on you? Thought it was the only innocent thing we had going for us.’ He grins.
It had been. She was always too lazy to do it herself and he loved touching her. He’ll always do it before bedtime, likes he loves touching her and he likes the way the smell lingers on her and onto the sheets. That way, he’ll still get to keep some of her when she leaves.
‘Probably best we don’t mix the two then,’ she smiles turning herself onto her back. ‘Just needed something to look at until you come back home.’
He grins getting up from the bed to get himself ready for bed as well. She pulls forward the duvet on her side of the bed, tucks herself in, presses in the fluffy pillows to her liking.
‘M’about to sweat it out aren’t I?’ He unbuttons his dress shirt and however drunk or slightly tipsy he is, remembers to hang it in their closet. ‘Have to be patient and all that?’ He turns to her.
‘You’re used to it by now.’ She silences her phone after setting her alarm for tomorrow morning.
‘Hope you sleep through it.’ He grins, he really doesn’t want her to go.
He is in fact used to being patient now. He’s impatient by nature but he’s grown to become far more patient since meeting her. A lot of patience is needed in a relationship like theirs and it only works if there’s a great deal of it.
‘You’ll think about it though?’ He mumbles from the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth.
She has a been thinking, she’s thinking about it now. She’s giving it so much thought she’d forgotten to tell him that she’s thinking about it.
‘Hm?’ He reminds her hovering over her once he’s ready for sleep.
‘Told you I would.’ She presses her fingertips to his lips. ‘If you keep nagging won’t have time to think about it.’ Harry understands, nods before kissing her fingertips.
It’s late and their tummies are happily full from good food and tasty drinks. He brings her close to him, his hand drapes over her waist as he nuzzles himself into the space between her neck and her shoulder.
‘Where are you gonna put it?’ She asks. ‘Make it good, make sure it’s a place where you can start a proper collection in.’
‘A proper collection huh?’ He grins adjusting the pillow behind his head.
‘A proper collection. You’re quite the talent don’t you know…’
‘Mmm.’ He hums against her shoulder.
‘Can fell you blushing.’ She smiles.
‘Stop that.’ He whines.
She never misses an opportunity to celebrate and when they’d been out and about just this morning and he got the news she knew it was the perfect reason to go out and celebrate. (Even if it meant too much tequila and many chocolate covered strawberries.)
‘Like this color,’ she says holding up different paint samples to the light. ‘Isn’t as overwhelming as the other one. Could go well with the couch in the sitting room…’ She realizes only a minute after that she’s just been talking to herself in the middle of the store. ‘Harry? Where’s he gone now…has the attention span of a goldfish…’ She pulls out her phone just before she feels his hand at her back. ‘There you are, need your final say about this grey.’ She holds up the sample. ‘Why are you smiling that big…where did you go…your face has gone as bright as this yellow color…why—’
‘You’ve got to come back here in a few weeks, so best you be letting your job know now…February 26th…’
She thinks really hard, with all she’s got but comes up with nothing. ‘What’s on the 26th?’
‘Have I got to give you a hint?’ He grins. ‘Films…actors—’
‘The Oscars?’ She asks and he nods. ‘Wait!’ She nearly yells. She feels like quite the goldfish now. ‘Oh my god!’ She yells again.
‘I told you!’ She nearly leaps onto him. ‘I told you didn’t I! Did I not?’ She laughs wrapping her arms around his neck. She can’t keep still in his hold as he wraps her legs around him. ‘Told you that you’d be nominated,’ she shakes her head. ‘When are you gonna start listening to me?’ She kisses him sweetly.
‘Didn’t think I would actually be nom—’
‘Start listening to your girlfriend then. Only been wrong twice before, ‘bout that restaurant on the west end and the sweet Irish lady losing the bakeoff.’ She grins widely before kissing him again and again.
‘Has it really only been twice?’ He wonders. Can’t be…he knows she’s usually right about most things but—
‘I’ll be there, promise. I’ll swim if I have to. M’an ok swimmer.’
‘M’really not.’ She laughs.
But she’ll be there. She promises.
‘You’re funny.’ She sighs as he kisses below her ear. He doesn’t ever want to leave this bed. Getting out of this bed, their new bed in their new house will be terribly hard tomorrow.
‘Yeah?’ He asks sleepily.
‘Yeah, you were just nominated for a bloody oscar today and you’re blushing ‘bout being worthy of one.’
‘Suppose I am a bit funny then.’
‘Suppose you are.’
He rests his head contently at her shoulder, wrapping his arm around her waist. ‘You looked gorgeous tonight angel.’
‘At least one of us will remember tonight.’ She grins.
‘Like showing you off,’ he grins to himself but she feels it against her skin. ‘Love having you with me.’
‘Know you do, s’why you want this one thing so bad.’
‘Think you’d enjoy it love,’ he pulls her closer to him. ‘Always been a bit of a showoff.’
‘Am not.’ She pushes back against him on purpose and he groans playfully.
‘No? What about all the pictures and videos—’
‘Those were for you.’
‘This’ll be too. For my birthday.’
‘You want that to be your birthday present?’ She laughs.
‘Well I don’t want a paper weight.’
‘Who’s gonna gift you a paper weight, was gonna get you a blender.’
‘Yeah, I want a blender.’ She mutters.
‘How’s that my birthday gift then?’ He laughs.
‘You’d have a blender?’ She answers obviously.
‘Don’t need a blender.’
‘But you need me to suck you off in front of your friends?’ She grins.
‘S’more exciting than a blender.’
‘Do you know how many things you can make with a blender?’
She really does just like giving him a hard time. Because she’d be the biggest fibber if she’d said she didn’t want to be shown off once or twice before. Or that the idea, while sinful is alluring.
‘M’getting a fucking blender aren’t I?’ He mumbles against her shoulder.
‘There’s a slight difference between a blender and a blowjob in front of your friends…s’all m’saying.’
‘S’not like they’re strangers. You know all of them.’
He’s already told her that if she changes her mind that’d be perfectly fine too. And if she’ll agree to it they’ll talk about the details further. The where and how’s.
‘M’not sharing you. You won’t be sucking them off you’d be sucking me off and—’
‘Really?’ She asks sarcastically. ‘Don’t want to watch me suck them off as well?’ She scoffs. ‘Aren’t into that are you?’
‘Think you’d like the praise and being watched is all. Wouldn’t have brought it up if I thought it’d just be for my benefit only.’
He’s not wrong, she does like being praised, being told how good she’s being, how good she is. He’s just taken this all a few steps forward.
‘Just think about it yeah? If you say yes then we’ll discuss the details then and if you say no then that’ll be that.’
She’s curious. There’s plenty she doesn’t know and plenty of questions she has. Would his friends be ok with it as well? Where exactly would this take place? How would the opportunity even present itself? But she leaves those questions aside for now.
‘I’ll think about it on the plane, give you an answer by the time m’home.’ She says and he smiles against her skin.
She’s got a tight busy schedule, it might not look like his but it’s just as busy. She’s got a full time job that she takes home with her sometimes despite Harry’s rule about not taking work home with you.
But he managed to have her for the last four days to sign off on their new house and get started with the move and decorating. He can’t do it alone, won’t be their home if he would have. But they spent far less time picking out furniture and paint colors than doing other things. And just like that she’s got to go back to London tomorrow and they’re not any closer to agreeing on paint colors.
She has to leave early tomorrow and neither of them are ready. But used to the idea. She has to get back to work and so does he. He’s had her for the holidays and these few days now but it all seems minimal and awfully scattered.
‘You don’t have to leave tomorrow, right?’ He grins. ‘Can stay with me until Sunday? Or for another week…two if it isn’t much trouble.’
‘You’re almost done here.’ She assures. ‘Just two more weeks and m’all yours right?’ It’s his birthday soon and he’s made sure to take off some time for it.
‘What am I supposed to do about the paint colors then?’ He yawns.
‘Call me.’ She kisses his forehead.
‘At one in the morning your time?’
‘Remember that when you’re groaning at me for waking you up in the middle of the night to talk about paint.’
‘Remind me.’ She grins and so does he. Her body settles against his with a relaxed sigh as he kisses her shoulder gently. ‘M’so proud of you. And m’hoping you’re proud of you too.’ She whispers.
He pulls her in tightly, ‘thank you.’ he whispers.
‘Can’t believe I know someone as special as you are.’ She kisses his neck softly. ‘Can feel you blushing again.’ She grins.
‘Stop.’ He whines sleepily.
Harry doesn’t let her get up when her alarm clock rings at eight in the morning. He smothers her, pulls her underneath him, holds her tightly to him as he falls back asleep contently. She lets him, just a few more minutes she promises.
He groans when she tries to wiggle out twenty minutes later, ‘m’gonna miss my flight—c’mon love, I know it’s hard…’
‘Tell them I was feeling poorly so you had to stay…didn’t like the idea of leaving me in the state m’in.’ He mumbles.
‘Take the next one, this evening…just give me a few hours longer.’
‘Oh my god,’ she groans. ‘I can’t believe this.’ She says aloud but it’s just meant for her. She knew this would happen, that he’d be stubborn and she’d have no willpower to leave either. Because it just keeps getting harder. She should just stop booking flights in the morning because it never goes to plan.
‘Please.’ He whispers. ‘Please, just a few more hours. I’ll get you on the next one, promise.’
‘Won’t let you get in trouble, just need a few more hours with you. Not ready yet.’
She sees it in the way he’s holding onto her. How four days only are cruel and the thought of spending nights without holding onto her makes him hold on tighter. He panics sometimes, only for a minute when either of their alarms go off on a given morning. He gets used to having her, forgets about the limited time and then he really does feel like she’s being torn away from him. He’s not any good at them, at goodbyes.
‘Ok,’ she whispers. She sets her phone back on the nightstand, shutting it off as she lets him pull the duvet back over them.
The thing about delaying their goodbyes is that it doesn’t make it any easier. Delaying them doesn’t make them disappear, just puts them off until later. He knows this by now but will still beg her to stay until she really does have to leave.
It’s eleven now, the sun is bright and warm. Harry much prefers this, waking up late without an alarm and with her as the sun streams in. He sleeps the best when it’s warm and she’s here, he catches up on sleep when she’s sleeping beside him.
The assortment of teas are scattered on the floor and the kettle is left deserted from last night. He chuckles to himself as he picks them up and heats up the water. He looks back at the clock, they still have a few hours. She could use the sleep.
He makes the tea the way they both like it. Their house is coming together slowly, still echoey from the lack of furniture that needs to be delivered. But as Harry climbs the steps back up to their room, he feels like it’s theirs.
‘I let you get away with it again.’ She groans into her pillow when he places the mug on her bedside table. ‘M’I really that weak?’ She pushes her hair off her face as he gets back into the warm bed.
He nods pulling her on top of him, she might as well be or maybe he’s just skillfully persuasive. She rolls her eyes and he’s happy to see her pretty ones even then while she’s straddling him.
She falls into his chest, resting there because she’s not thinking about the missed flight anymore. He sighs contently, this is the most settled he’s felt in a while, with her resting against him as he plays mindlessly with the ends of her hair. The stillness of the morning and the comfortable silence fills the gaps between their steady breathing that have synced up.
His hands trail down south innocently at first before he’s got a silly grin on him as he cups his hand over her bare bum.
‘S’for the best, should heal a bit first.’ He grins into her neck. ‘Still sore right?’
‘Mmm,’ she rolls her eyes again reaching for the tea mug beside her.
As the afternoon creeps up they’re sitting outside in the sun contently, eating a late breakfast together like he wanted. He wanted to go swimming too, they haven’t since they moved in and they’ve got a really nice pool too. And it’s perfectly sunny and he just has to have her against him for whatever time he has left. He grins into her neck when she mentions the cold water feeling nice on her red bum. He holds her close to him in the water, watches her swim back and forth a few times before bringing her back to him to wrap her body around his.
He’s pulling her bikini bottoms down before she’s even out of the pool. And in retaliation she’s got her hand wrapped around him and they don’t make it inside the house in time.
She admitted it all to herself then, when he’s fucking her by the pool on a perfect sunny day, that staying for these few hours were absolutely necessary. His skin is warm from the sun, small water droplets still stream down his body, between them as he thrusts roughly into her.
When he’d proposed they needed a few of these outdoor furniture pieces she’d agreed but now she’s fully thankful for them.
She wraps her legs around him tighter, needing him as close as he can get. Her sore bum rubs up against the surface beneath her, he told her to switch positions but she doesn’t mind it oddly. The sting and the tingles are always something she’s chasing after. And she’d rather him be on top of her like this now than ride him, she wants him up against her tightly, she needs him to hover over her like this and she wants to hold onto him. Because soon, these small things and remembered details will be the only things getting her through the next few weeks.
Her bikini bottoms never fully made it off with his impatient hands as they hang at her right ankle as he continues with his slick thrusts into her.
‘How am I—meant to last two weeks without this.’ He groans. ‘So good…shit you’re good love.’
She’s exhaling sharply, cracked whimpers leaving her as she comes around him. He’s fucking her through it, driving into her as she keeps tightening around him. He cups her face, making her stay with him so he can get her there again.
‘Good girl, that’s my good girl.’ He groans as she struggles to say anything back. She’s sensitive, overly stimulated as he relentlessly keeps hitting that spot deep inside of her with his name on it. She’s properly crying out now, sinking her nails into his back as her neck stretches back. ‘There it isn’t it? M’there aren’t I?’ He manages against her neck.
She’s begging him now, not only for her own release but his too. How she wants to feel him when she leaves, how badly she needs him to fill her, needs the picture of him coming hard above her.
She’s needy for his lips on hers, moaning into his lips when she gets them. She’s desperately lifting her hips up to his, matching theirs to have him closer, deeper and he nearly chokes over his own breath.
‘Please!’ She cries wrapping her legs around him tighter, pulling him even closer towards her. When he gets close, so impossibly close, her for the second time he thinks sanely for just a moment about the new piece of furniture under them.
‘This is new.’ He groans. ‘Can’t come inside of you—without making a mess of it.’
‘M’not gonna have you for the next two weeks!’ She whines tightening her walls around him purposefully and he growls in her ear. ‘Since when have you cared about making a mess—’
‘You picked these out! Thought you’d care—’ He’s shaking now, needy for it.
‘I don’t!’ She cries. ‘Please!’
‘Shit!—’ He takes her right leg, places it over his shoulder and restarts his ruthless thrusts into her.
‘Fuck what’s yours.’ She whispers to him. His sloppy, jolted thrusts serve them both as she holds tightly to his back and his fingers are pressed so tightly into the skin of her hips.
Her name in short cut off whispers mix with growled out expletives as she starts coming around him. He’s winded, bound so tight as she’s nearly squeezing it all from him. He’s spilling hot and heavy into her, with one of his hands by her hair holding tightly to it and the other holding tightly to her leg wrapped around him.
She’s panting underneath him as he attempts calming his own breaths once he’s pulled out of her and as expected, they’ve left quite a mess.
‘Already miss you.’ He whispers. He straightens out the pout of her lips as she traces the water droplets that fall down his chest.
‘Don’t tell me what time it is.’ She buries her head into his chest.
‘Won’t,’ he pulls her up to him so he’s looking right at her. ‘We’re gonna lay out for a bit.’
She nods, realizes she should soak up as much as sun as she can. There are nothing but clouds back in London. They rest their eyes for a bit, go in and out of peaceful naps. He’s content then, pulls her as close as he can. Then he realizes that this is exactly what he’d pictured when he wanted them to get a house here.
He’s holding her tightly against him in the shower too, when they need to get the day started and have to get clean before. He’s already got his lips on her before any getting clean is done.
She falls into him as he washes her hair, humming contently as he does it for her. She smiles lazily as he lathers up the bubbles across her body, he loves touching her always. She likes pushing her hands through his hair too, trailing and traveling her hands over his strong body.
She doesn’t grasp what he’s doing until he’s on his knees in front of her. With a leg of hers draped over his shoulder and his tongue at her clit.
‘God—I—’ She wants to say, that at a pace like this she’s never going to make it onto this flight either. But he’s got his mouth around her clit, sucking hungrily against her. She’s wobbly, starts shaking as he continues his long and purposeful strokes against her. ‘Shit—keep doing that.’ She moans softly over the loud stream of water as he encourages her to ride his mouth as best as she can.
He wraps one arm around her waist to steady her as he takes his other hand between her legs. He’s needy for it, just as desperate to do this for her as she wants it. He looks up at her from between her thighs as he pushes two of his fingers in as her head falls back. His warm tongue, the way he’s tasting her, the direct strokes against her whilst his fingers press against the spot inside of her, the way he’s moving them inside of her doesn’t leave her many options. She’s coming onto his mouth not long after that with his name as barely there whispers rolling over her tongue.
She doesn’t stop kissing him until they really do have to step out, get dressed and start the already short day together.
She pouts carrying her suitcase down the steps to his car outside. They have two or three hours to continue the search for more furniture pieces and agree on paint colors.
They should really be getting this stuff sorted and done but they’re out of it, not at all focused on the task at hand. He’s just holding tightly to her hand and she’s leaned into him as they browse mindlessly through the showroom.
‘This ones nice.’ She says and he nods. ‘Could be nice in the kitchen.’
‘Stay for today.’ He turns to her.
‘Damnit Harry.’ She sighs.
‘Please love.’ He whispers.
‘It isn’t gonna be easier tomorrow or the next day either.’
‘Don’t go tomorrow then either.’ He says and realized how impossible that is before he’d even said it. She shrugs defeatedly before looking back at the furniture on display because she’ll crumble if she looks at him for any longer.
Sitting across from each other when they go for lunch isn’t doable either. He doesn’t know what it is, how he’s physically incapable of being without her. So she moves her chair, sits next to him happily. She rests her head on his shoulder as they wait for their food, kissing his neck softly.
If the circumstances had been different maybe she would have stopped to marvel at the view of the ocean behind them and what a pretty and clear day it is. They’re both like this, have a hard time seeing anything good from the current situation. Because it doesn’t matter that he’s coming home to London in two weeks, or how after that she’ll be back here for his big night. They’re trying though, he tries telling himself those things, just two weeks, that’s how much longer but it’s harder than hard to think like that when she’s leaving.
And then somehow, by then it’s already nearly four and her flight is at seven. Harry doesn’t usually wish for heavy traffic, it being a pet peeve of his but this time he does. He’s holding her hand as he drives them both and suddenly it’s the time that Harry was trying to stall away from.
He walks with her into the airport until he can’t go any further. Until she’s got to go through security and board the plane home.
He grins, remembers what they had talked about last night. ‘Think about—’
‘Sucking you off in front of your mates, I know, I’ve got a good memory.’ She rolls her eyes taking her suitcase back from him when he’d offered to carry it.
‘Well when you say it like that sounds fuckin filthy.’ He mutters.
‘Isn’t it?’ She smirks. ‘S’why you want it so bad isn’t it?’ She pulls out her boarding pass and passport from her handbag to avoid holding up the line behind her.
‘Can’t do much showing off with a blender.’ He admits.
‘You could, you could make one hell of a smoothie.’ She grins.
‘I could I suppose.’ He plays along sarcastically.
‘Can’t say it’d taste as good as you do,’ she inches closer to him. ‘Or how good I do.’ She traces his jawline slowly. ‘You could try.’ She shrugs casually. She’s properly asking for it now and she’s not being fair to him one bit. Because she’s got to get on that plane and he’s gonna be left thinking about filthy things for the rest of the night.
‘Who keeps letting you talk like that?’ He covers her mouth. ‘Fucking Christ—watch your mouth.’
She can’t answer him with his hand on her mouth but for one, he likes it when she talks like that. Craves it too. He’s just plain bothered now, wants her again but this is the last flight tonight and she will yell at him if he makes her miss this one too.
She shifts her head to line her mouth with his fingertips, he catches on far too late when she wraps her lips around his index and middle. He glares at her, looks at her like she’s actually crazy. He presses his lips together tightly when he realizes that this is nearly what he’s asking from her for his birthday and the picture starts racing through his head. His stomach tightens when she begins sliding her lips across his fingers. Her lips wet, pretty pink gliding across. And he can’t do this right now, in the middle of a busy airport with people walking by them to stand in the line she has to start queuing in soon. He’ll lose it, he’s already bothered and already missing her.
‘Wanted this didn’t you?’ She whispers. ‘This is what you want from me…’
‘Get on the bloody plane,’ he reluctantly pulls his fingers away and she laughs before he grasps her jaw tightly. ‘Before I never let you leave.’
‘M’going m’going. Just wanted to tell you I love you first.’ She grins wrapping her arms around his neck and he wraps his arms tightly around her waist. ‘Come back to me quickly yeah?’ She buries herself into his neck. ‘Too many episodes of the bakeoff to watch alone, in a house much too big for just me.’
He nods, this bit is always hard. ‘Travel safe.’ He kisses her forehead and his lips linger there because they too, are having a hard time saying goodbye. ‘I’ll see you real soon, not much longer.’ He whispers before kissing her hard then shaking his head trying to avoid getting too sad about this. ‘I love you.’ He whispers. It’s always been like this and it’s going to keep being like this, they try not to get upset.
She finds her seat before reaching for her phone in her bag. ‘You win, like always. Happy early birthday. Don’t say I never gave you anything. Much better than a paper weight and a blender I’d say.’
Harry has already stepped into a late meeting when he gets the message. He grins widely at it, his stomach tightens again but he knows he can’t afford to think about this right now. He’s about to turn over his phone to get back to the meeting when it vibrates again. A blender is on their way to their home, should be delivered tomorrow at noon. He chuckles softly into his hand turning the phone over after sending her a message.
-M’not making you any smoothies.
You have to, m’blowing you in front of your friends. Start practicing your blending.
Naughty stuff: Top!Tae, Oral, clit teasing, stripping, lots of kisses, very vocal Tae, from behind, lowkey animalistic and some titty-love, a lot of grabbing and touching and some spanking. (ft. attempts to make this some-what more of a “realistic” smut + lube is your best friend.)
This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and
to a certain degree unrealistic. Please
have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.
Rating: Mature, sexual content
wasn’t often that he came home early, but today was one of those days. Much to
your delight since you’ve had the day off and been investing your time on doing
nothing for once.
any words were exchanged after he stepped inside before your lips and hands
were clinging to the other with no mercy.
people might think it’s weird but for you and Taehyung it kept the spark alive.
were always reserved for “love” time. Well, most days were along with some
spontaneity but Thursdays was an agreement. It was also a good excuse to try
new things or to simply dress a little extra for the occasion.
In which Archie distracts the reader in the best way possible.
Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader
Warnings: Smut, smut and more smut!
A/N: so I got a super positive response for me writing some riverdale smut and a request for some Archie x Reader so here it is. Pass me the holy water people!
You were sat at your desk desperately trying to finish your English
essay whilst listening to the red-headed jock on your bed whine and groan about
how bored he was. That boy was Archie Andrews – jock, musician and certified
fuckboy. You weren’t really sure why he was there or what you were to him. All
you knew was that despite his complete lack of judgement in sticky situations
and his gullible nature, he was a total sweetheart and he liked you a lot. You were
snapped out of your daze by the feeling of strong arms embracing you from
behind and slightly chapped lips against your neck.
“You need a break…” he murmured against your skin, the
vibrations sending shivers down your spine.
“I can’t…I have to finish this…” your voice trailed off as
his lips found your ear, nibbling on the lobe lightly and eliciting a moan from
“Please (Y/N), can’t you just do it later?”
You were tempted and his breath on your skin clouded your
judgement momentarily before you swallowed and composed yourself.
“Arch…I can’t,” you tried and failed to sound convincing and
as you turned to attempt to look him in the eyes with faux sincerity he simply
wet his lips and nodded. You turned back to your work, scanning the page trying
to recollect your thoughts. You could feel Archie behind you still and you
tried to ignore the sound of his heavy breathing and concentrate on the task at
hand. His calloused hand came to rest on your shoulder and after a few seconds
you noticed it inching further and further down. Your mouth became dry as his
fingertips trailed down over your collarbone then further still. His finger
circled around your nipple through the thin material of your tank top and your
breath hitched in your throat. His finger didn’t linger though, it continued
its path down your stomach and past your navel and heat flooded your cheeks the
further south they got. The pressure between your legs built with anticipation
and you clamped your thighs shut upon instinct. You swallowed the lump in your
throat and he coaxed your legs apart slowly. Your arm curled behind you to
grasp his neck and pull him in for a sloppy kiss, essay completely forgotten.
How was it that he knew exactly what you wanted – exactly what you needed?
His long fingers began making slow, languid strokes against
you, through your leggings and you bit your lip to stifle the moans threatening
to escape your lips. His head rested in the crook of neck, sucking and biting
on your sweet spot and leaving dark purple marks there. His hand drifted
upwards to the waistband of your leggings and expertly slipped inside. The sudden
skin-on-skin contact made you gasp and his palm flattened against you. Painfully
slowly he slipped a finger into your entrance and you couldn’t stop yourself
from moaning his name in sultry tone. This made him gasp and encouraged him to
slip in another finger, keeping them still and teasing you mercilessly.
“Please Arch I-I need…” you stammered, bucking your hips
against his fingers in a feeble attempt to gain some friction. He grinned
boyishly at the effect he had on you and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek
before pumping his fingers. You groaned, finally satisfied by the pleasure he
was providing you. Apparently, Archie wasn’t because he moved his thumb to
press on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. One of your hands clutched the
arm of your desk-chair whilst the other rested behind his neck, tangling your
fingers in his luscious red locks. He began to pick up his pace, thumb circling
your clit furiously whilst he whispered unforgivable things in your ear. With one
final curl of his fingers you came undone around him, walls clamping around his
fingers and his name falling from your lips in a guttural moan. He continued
his movements until you had ridden out your high, falling limp against the
chair, utterly spent. You gazed up at him with a captivated smile and he
returned your stare with a lopsided grin.
“Better than your essay?” he asked, biting his lip and
raising his brows in childlike anticipation for your answer. You hand came to
rest on your chin as you mocked contemplation.
“I dunno Arch, Shakespeare might have got the upper hand
with this one,” his eyes lowered to look at the ground and he mumbled a disappointed
“oh…” until you burst into a fit of giggles. “I’m kidding Archie! It was
amazing…you are amazing.”
With that you leaped up from your seat and pulled him into a
tight embrace, peppering him with quick kisses to which he laughed and returned
them in response. You had fallen for this boy, hard and every second you were
with him you seemed to fall harder.