#bakerstreethound

[roguelov]

Hmmm orgasm denial with Ryland. Maybe make him sob a little and lick up his tears

You are sitting between his legs stroking him off. Ryland naked unlike you. His chest heaving as he stares down watching your hands move up and down in slow strokes.

“You’re doing so good for me, Ryland,” you purr, your pace now faster.

Ryland gasps then begs unabashedly, “Please, please- I’m so close- I-“

You stop. Hands completely off.

He whimpers. His hands curls into his tights and shakily raises them up, then furls them. He quickly tangles his fingers into his hair, tugging on his choppy blonde strands. As if the pain from yanking on his hair could lighten the deep ache in his cock.

It didn’t.

It may have had the opposite effect, but he wasn’t ready to admit it or acknowledge it at this moment.

“Please … please … I -,” he huffs in frustration, his tongue heavy in his mouth and his mind in a lust fog that made it impossible to string words together. How many times had he been edged? Damn it, he couldn’t remember.

Tears start to well up and stream down his cheeks. He reaches up to wipe them away, cheeks now flush with embarrassment and the physical strain on his body. Yet, you catch his wrist.

He blinks at you, curious and confused.

You lean over, the fabric of your jeans brushing over his leaking cock. He moans lowly, trying not to buck his hips. Your lips then press into his cheek, right on the apple - red like one too. Ryland thought you would pull away, perhaps give him was grace and let him come. And you do pull away, however, only enough to then stick out your tongue and lick up his cheek. The salty tears explode on your tongue.

Ryland groans. His hips moving on their own now. His cock rubbing shamelessly into the front of your jeans, smearing precum all over you.

And you don’t stop him.

“Keep going,” you whisper, encouraging him.

He whines. “Hands.”

“Hands?”

“Want your hands … or- or your mouth, please.”

“Of course.” You kiss his tear stained cheek once more. “And you asked so nicely, how can I resist?”

Ryland fails to catch the evil twinkle in your eyes. He did ask for your hands and mouth, but he didn’t ask to come.

Maybe just one more edging, just to see those pretty tears.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Ooo hiii! I see this knight type seems to be quite the protector aweeee

Oh, honey, he's that and so much more. Humble and incredibly pure of heart. Brave (which means doing the necessary things that frighten him the most, despite the Fear) and willing to sacrifice limb & life to protect the innocent and those who can't protect themselves from injustice & danger. Loyal to his promises, the Knight that trained him, his true brothers-in-arms, and his justly acting liegelord.

On top of that, he wears his huge, kind heart on his sleeve, and despite his spectacular size & strength, is the gentlest fellow you can imagine. Both with animals and all those in need of gentleness. His best friend is his horse, Sweetfoot, who he loves so much that he eventually chooses to release her to an easier life as an apple farm horse rather than keep her in the dangerous, itinerant life as a Knight's steed. He professes to wield a stern hand with his sometimes unruly squire, but he'd never really lay a hand on the boy in discipline or in anger.

And seriously? I said to a Beloved Mutual the other day that Dunk (Ser Duncan the Tall) is hugely popular (and the television series did so magnificently) because with current events and the state of our Western Culture, people are STARVED for a character of such genuine goodness (hey, kind of like with Steve Rogers). He's better than a knight-in-shining-armour, because he's far from perfect, but he gives his all every damn day to do the right thing.

As you may have guessed, he's the first non-Benedict Cumberbatch character that has inspired me to write EVER--ending my pretty solid 4 1/2 year drought! So, as I told her, you should check Ser Duncan and A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms out. You don't even have to be familiar with the Game of Thrones Universe to enjoy it.

[practically-an-x-man]

hey friend! so my first impression of you, I believe was something along "oh cool! this person has interesting OCs and we were both following a fellow mutual of some sort, so I thought you were cool either way" I was still intimidated talking to you, even though I wanted to have a conversation.

Now, I still think you are very cool. You are very talented (from the SFX things I have heard you talk about), and I am in awe of all the OCs you are able to create, and I like having you as a writer friend and hearing what you are up to! I think it is cool we both like Sleep Token as well, that is something more recent I think I have learned about you, haha! I feel less intimidated dropping by your inbox now, just to ask random OC questions or see how you are doing (:

Aww thank you!! I'm really glad you find it less intimidating to drop in and say hi now, I love talking to you and chatting about our various interests and projects so please stop by any time!!

Also, not sure I've ever asked before but what's your favorite Sleep Token song?? I'm partial to Caramel and The Summoning myself :D

[classickook]

Or imagine pumpkin carving with sherlock 😂

i’m still thinking about the other idea you sent, but here’s this one for now! i had a lot of fun writing it 🥺

you huff and puff as the monstrous pumpkin weighs heavily in your arms until you finally reach the threshold of sherlock’s flat. “you know, you could’ve helped me carry this.”

sherlock waves you off distractedly as he rummages through the cupboards and cabinets.

you heave the pumpkin onto the kitchen counter and take a breath as your boyfriend continues to search for something. you unbutton your coat and toss it on one of the armchairs before rolling up your sleeves, ready to dive into the halloween festivities. it took an insane amount of convincing before sherlock finally agreed to partake in your childish traditions.

“aha!” he exclaims as he lays out an array of knives in various shapes, sizes, and sharpness. your eyes are immediately drawn to one particularly hefty blade, more like that of a butcher’s knife, that just so happens to have a slight coating of something dark and rusty along the sharp edge.

“sherlock…”

“hmm?”

“what is that on the blade?”

he eyes the knife in question, however, his expression remains neutral as his gaze drops to the dried blood.

“it’s from a case.”

“a case? is that a murder weapon, sherlock? why do you have it in your flat? we’re not seriously going to carve a pumpkin with a piece of criminal evidence?” you shriek.

he rolls his eyes dramatically. “don’t be ridiculous. gary said i could have it to run some additional tests.”

“greg.”

“who?”

“his name is greg, sherlock. you know that.”

his brows furrow in genuine confusion. “is it? hmm.”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you never cease to amaze me, mr. holmes. in more ways than one.”

“thank you.”

a laugh bubbles up your throat at his obliviousness. “so aside from that knife,” you emphasize with a sharp glance to the murder weapon, “how about we get started?”

“i’ve never done this before… how does it work?” he admits bashfully, a rare occurrence for the famous consulting detective who was usually so confident and stubborn.

you bump his shoulder with yours as you reach for a clean knife, immediately taking over by slicing open the top of the pumpkin and removing the stem. “don’t worry, i’ll show you.”

sherlock’s eyes watch carefully as you work, curious and unflinching as you gut the pumpkin and plop a handful of seeds and gooey pulp onto the countertop.

“see? this part is simple. we just need to empty the insides so there’s room for us to make the jack-o’-lantern. want to give it a try?”

a dimple appears in his cheek as he smiles adorably at you and then quickly rolls up the sleeves of his buttoned shirt before digging in, pumpkin pulp reaching his elbows as he scoops out the insides as you instructed.

once the pumpkin is completely empty, you uncap a black marker and plan out the face. “what do you think?” you ask sherlock. “what expression should our pumpkin have?”

“what do they normally look like?”

“well, most have triangle eyes and a nose, and either a smile or frown carved in. but we could try something else, if you’d rather? do you have any ideas?”

he shook his head. “whatever you think is best.”

“okay, how about a smile? just something simple for our first jack-o’-lantern?”

“okay,” he replies softly.

you map out the face in your head and then get to work, tracing two triangles for the eyes, another for the nose, and finally, a jagged smile that looks more frightening than you were aiming for. “how does it look?” you ask as you draw back and admire your handiwork.

sherlock nods his approval, curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

“would you like to cut them out? might be fun for you…” and definitely less gruesome than the experiments he worked on in the flat, is what you didn’t say.

sherlock nods eagerly, a boyish smile lighting up his face as he digs in, cutting into the eyes first. you’ve never seen him so excited for something other than a case, and it was certainly a refreshing change to share this moment with him.

you watch him silently as he goes about the other features of the pumpkin, your heart feeling light and happy as your boyfriend heals his inner child with you.

the two of you finish up the final details, giggling and smiling wide while covered in pumpkin guts. “now we just need a candle to put inside. do you have any lying around?”

sherlock rushes out of the kitchen and returns within seconds, lit candle in hand from who-knows-where, and places it inside the opening before securing the top.

“let’s take it out front, shall we?”

sherlock grabs the jack-o’-lantern and quickly crosses the room, rushing down the staircase and kicking open the door before you can make it down the last few steps. once you join him outside, you see the pumpkin already placed to the side of the door, its grinning mouth flickering in the candlelight that glows around the small space. it makes the doorstep look cozy and festive as halloween soon approaches.

you grab sherlock’s hand and squeeze lightly as he stares at the pumpkin, seemingly lost in thought. “i think this is the best jack-o’-lantern i’ve ever seen,” you say softly and press a kiss to his pale cheek.

he turns to you and flashes a small smile before bringing your hand up to his mouth and placing a tender kiss there. “thank you for sharing this with me.”

taglist: @nicoletk @selcouthangel @singhfae

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Kitchen Thoughts with Steve Harrington (headcanon)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (no pronouns)

Word Count: 0.5k (yes it’s short, but it’s new content!!)

Summary: Just some late night thoughts about how King Steve can be in the kitchen. (I’m sorry, I wish this summary was better 😣)

A/N: This is actually a collab with another Tumblr writer, who I’m now fortunate enough to call a friend, @bakerstreethound. Please, for the love of everything good, check out Ace’s work. They are amazing and I’m so glad I’m able to share my obsession with you, Ace!

he wouldn’t hesitate to wrap around you from behind and give neck kisses then slow dance in the kitchen

whispering a really low “good morning” in that groggy/sleepy voice that no one could refuse

he’d also probably hold your sides and kinda rub circles against your clothes/skin while he hummed

he'd be the one to burn eggs or something, obviously

“I don’t know how it happened, babe! One minute it was fine, the next dust!!”

imagine a bunch of take-out and delivery in your future with this man

but he would somehow be able to make sweet treats that turn out okay????

like muffins. So many muffins

he probably doesn’t know when to stop baking either.

one day you just come to see him and he’s made like…..five dozen of the things 

and he just goes, “I made too much. Want some?”

then all the kids drop by to eat them or he picks them up after school and has the trunk loaded with them

he probably sneaks some muffins into your bag too, with little notes like, “I love you,” “there’s muffin I love more than you,” and other cheesy one-liners

remember how Steve eats bananas? Well, it turns into a joke that whatever he eats, he'll definitely make it into a muffin

that leads to some hella weird concoctions

like cinnamon and mango

or kiwi lime

or zucchini banana (which wasn’t too bad)

and Dustin sighs because, "Steve you have to stop."

cause he still hasn't recovered from the peanut butter and banana sandwich Steve made him for lunch

“This is an intervention, Steve!!!!!”

and you know Dustin wouldn’t sugarcoat it when Steve makes something gross

“Gross what is this shit?”

“It’s a muffin!”

“It tastes like death. Never make this again.”

does it hurt his pride when Dustin does that? Yes.

does he stop making them? Absolutely not. 

but then the kids get so tired of the muffins, he starts sneaking them in their lunch boxes just to get rid of them all

sometimes they come to you for help

which leads to your garbage always smelling like a dead bakery

at least the neighbor’s dog loves you

and when the kids are tired of finding them in their bag, they just use them as hockey pucks or something

Lucas using them in his slingshot

Max would definitely roll her eyes about it, but she secretly finds it endearing Lucas does it cause she's sick of the muffins too

eventually Dustin has to bring all the leftover food to D&D nights and Eddie likes having the food

one day Eddie just finds out that Steve made the muffins and shows up at his house asking for more muffins or something

but he'd be kinda shy about it

“So those muffins…..” 

“yeah?” 

“You uh, you have any more?”

Eddie would def twiddle his thumbs

his head would be down, too. The curls would fall into his face and he’d look up with puppy-dog-esque eyes

have we just stereotyped Steve into the muffin man? Yes.

the kids humming “do you know the muffin man” every time they see him

he's the ice cream man, which he'd be insistent about

“Robin’s the ice cream man” 

“WOMAN” 

“right. Woman” 

“for God’s sakes, Henderson…. I WAS the ice cream man!”

Mike shaking his head at how Steve can’t hold onto a single title

“Couldn’t even hold onto my sister, dude.”

“Low blow, Wheeler. Low blow.”

—————————————

Author’s Note: First headcanon done and Dustin’d! See what I…did there? Heh. Please don’t hate me. Steve Harrington has been my latest obsession and I’ve fallen for him hard. Huge thanks to Ace for helping me continue to embrace this obsession and for all of YOU little sparks for not jumping down my throat for the numerous Steve fic reblogs. I hope to work on a full-length Steve fic in the near future, so please stay tuned.

If you like what you read and want to see more short blurbs like this on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, reblog, and a like. Don’t forget to check out Ace’s blog, too! Until next time, little sparks 💙

[starks-hero]

Hmmm so I see you with brown shoulder length hair, possibly curly (kinda like your profile photo) perhaps hazel eyes or more on the darker side, perhaps your style is like comfy jeans and a sweatshirt? I can visualize you as being a very cozy homebody like Aziraphale 🤩🥰

Ace, this is freakishly accurate! You've got my style and hair to a t (just without the curls.) My eyes lean more towards green than hazel but you hit the nail on the head with aziraphale oml, if the few pieces of season 2 media have showed me anything it is that I am the embodiment of this man

[frostandflamesthoughts]

Highlight of my night: telling @bakerstreethound her favorite metalhead is actually a character in a musical set in France in the 19th century.

[purplefeathersandblackleather]

As the first night of this grueling Christmas shift comes to an end, I find that I am thankful. My bones are wary and the smell of cedar wood and spices fill my sense of smell as I step in through the door of my home. My mother welcomes me, bringing me a change of clothes that she had warmed in the dryer for me, my two canine companions, Diesel and Buddy, rush to me with wagging tails and small hops of excitement.

The sight of the presents under the tree fills my heart with both joy and ache this year, but also a sense of clarity.

In these times when we struggle, there is always someone who has it worse than we do. I think about my losses, I mourn for the ones who are no longer here, but then I remember the people I have helped on the streets recently. I worry for those with nowhere to go and pray for them instead of myself.

This morning I remember my dearest friend @sobeautifullyobsessed who just recently found herself homeless and struggling to figure out where she would go and I pray for her safety and for her to have a warm place to stay and rest for these weary days. I am thankful to all of those who have shown her the generosity she has been given in her time of need.

I think about @fanartka who lives in the Ukraine, who just recently celebrated a birthday in a country devastated by war because the human species is obsessed with power and fundamentally insane. I pray for her and Ukraine, even now when it has been helped by many amazing people, such as Benedict Cumberbatch and many others.

I think of my friend @xeiggerott who has recently lost his job and is now struggling to find a way to buy food and pay his bills. I recently gave him advice on how to clear his Chakras and sent him the most money that I could to help him in this hard time. I am thankful to finally be in a position where I can help someone I consider a friend when they're in need.

My mind wanders of course to Tony and how I wish he was still here to spend this holiday with me. To my grandmother and grandfather, who both lost their lives to disease and should still be here to see this beautiful holiday with us. But I am coming to the end of my grief and finding peace with where I am. They are gone, but never leave from my heart and I hope they found peace in whatever awaits beyond.

As I get ready to lay down and rest for another night of work in the cold temperatures, I hope all of you - my darling mutuals and friends - find some sense of peace and happiness in these days. That there is love for you, even if it's from your fictional darlings, that will fill you with warmth. Thank you, @bakerstreethound for reminding us that there's nothing wrong with still loving our chosen, even if they're not in this world with us.

And thank you, @harlekin6 for always checking in on me when I am wary and struggling. You mean so much to me, my dear. Remember that you are very important to me and I am thankful for you making me feel so important always.

For my darling @cirocity whom I love with all of my heart. I truly have found the source of my inner strength with you in my life and I cannot wait for us to finally meet in March. I love you so much, my sweet butterfly.

To my dearest @icytrickster17 who makes me feel like I am worthy of being noticed. The way my heart lightens when she likes my posts and reblogs anything of mine no matter how dumb it is, makes me feel like I truly am accepted, even if we don't talk much.

For my sweet moonflower @strangelockd who I have just developed such a strong relationship with. I thank you for being my Tony, when no one else would give me what I needed. When no one would help me, you extended your hand and pulled me up so that I could begin standing on my own. I am in your debt, truly.

And lastly, for my most complex and awe inspiring mutual, @stewardofningishzida who I have found so compelling that I consider them someone very important to me on more of an intellectual level. I have enjoyed hearing your stories and reading your writings, and I do look forward to speaking with you again very soon. May the eyes that watch leave you at peace and allow you to rest these days.

You all mean more to me than words, but this will have to do. Good night, my loves. - Steven