#||Happy anniversary its time for p a i n||

[coupsiedaisee]

pulse | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader

genre: smut, just smut alksjfdkgjhh

warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, kissing, drinking, like two mentions of weed lol sex?, i've never done warnings before ahh, fingering, voyeurism (sort of? not really?), kissing (is this a warning?), there's no p in v omg, so how do i tag this 😭, this is really short omg, i think fingering covers it, ohi! some drinking? neither of them are inibriated though. imo, would that make this dubcon? feel implicit to me. god sorry, im posting this when im drunk, v will wake up tmrw and tell me if this is dumb or not omg.

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: happy friend anniversary to the second love of my life 🥺v!!!! @hannieween, i love u so much so here's the first smut thing i've fully finished writing and also the first time i've published smut omg. i love you and i love cheol and i really hope this makes u both horny and happy and would love nothing more than if u feel anger (horny anger) after reading this, yay!! target demographic met! to everyone else reading this, pease let me know what u think! even if u hated it omg 🥺i want to know both what u liked and didn't like so my writing can become better. uwu ily all <3 also, again, im drunk, so if there's any grammar mistakes, ima fix it tmrw alksjdhkflhgbksdfgkjd. okay byeeee, enjoy!!!!

"Baby, are you done yet? She just texted that they parked," Seungcheol shouts from the living room.

"Coming!" You yell back, swiping the last bit of lipstick on and giving yourself a once over in the mirror.

Seungcheol's standing by the front door, looking up from his phone when you walk in. He rakes his eyes over you, the clear skin of your neck, down your collar bones, to the cleavage disappearing into your shirt. The sliver of skin between your tight shirt and mini skirt. The bare skin of your plush thighs.

You fidget under his gaze, "Is there something wrong? Do I need to go change?"

"God, no baby. You look—" he swallows hard, running a hand through his blond hair, "—you look hot."

A fierce blush blooms across your cheeks and you tuck you hair behind your ear. "Oh. I—thanks?" You clear your throat, "Y-you do too babe."

And he did. A tight black polo stretched across his pecs, its short sleeves snug around his biceps. Light wash jeans barely holding his thick thighs in.

You want to drop down to your knees, right then and there.

Seungcheol reaches his hand out and you take it. He pulls you in for a kiss, letting his free hand roam down your body, pushing your skirt up to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze.

You pull away first, smacking him lightly on the chest, "Seungcheol!"

He's got no shame though, as he pulls you out the door, laughing.

The two of your were not going far tonight. Just two floors down, to the apartment of a Joshua Hong. Long time friend of Seungcheol's, Joshua was having some friends over to look at the new vaccum he bought.

"It's got even better suction than the last one and the battery life lasts forever," says Joshua, showing off the lime green vaccum in the middle of his living room. Seungcheol's standing next to him with their other friend, Jeonghan. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his eyebrows furrowed as Joshua talks. Momo, Josh's next door neighbor, is crouched by the vaccum, eyeing its different attachments.

"How is it with pet hair?" She asks, and you feel that this is your cue to go grab another drink.

In the kitchen, Jeonghan's girlfriend is mixing some sort of concoction in a big punch bowl. She whips around at the sound of your footsteps, "There you are! Where have you been? I texted Seungcheol when we parked."

You send her a sheepish smile, "Got caught up on the new technology."

She rolls her eyes, "You lot are so boring."

"Trust me, you'll be the same once you're in the work force like us boring adults." You go to grab a cider from the fridge.

She scoffs waving her ladle in your direction, "Oi, pipe down Grandma. We're nearly the same age! You'll be sorry when I'm a professor. Don't make me give you detention."

You laugh, "Alright, alright. Don't fail me professor, clearly I was wrong. " You duck just as she swings the ladle at your head.

It doesn't take long until nearly everyone at the apartment is either drunk or baked. You don't know what she put in that bowl, but after seeing Momo passed out on the pool table, you were glad you stuck to your ciders.

You head back into the living room after cleaning up a spill in the hallway (whoever gave Jeonghan jaegerbombs, why?). Dino and Mingyu, Seungcheol's friends from school, are sprawled on the ground in front of the TV, Mario Kart forgotten, passing a lit joint between each other.

Seungcheol's sat back on the sofa, manspreading, and showing off his deliciously thick thighs, taking periodic sips of a Corona. He spots you across the room and you send him a shy smile.

Seungcheol motions at something with his eyes and you tilt your head at him, confused. He snaps his chin in a quick motion but you still don't understand and he lets out an exasperated breath. Settling further into the sofa, he pats his thigh. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking around the room, but no one's paying you all any attention.

Slowly you make you way to him and, once at his feet, he swiftly gets rid of the cider in your hand, pulling you into his lap with a low, "Come here, baby girl."

Your body heats up as his hands sit on your hips, fingertips grazing the sliver of skin between your shirt and skirt. Your skirt.

When you chose your outfit for today, you had felt good, confident even. You made a choice, to wear a new lingerie set you'd bought the other day. The thought was that, maybe, you and and your boyfriend would get up to some fun when you got back home.

But now, you'd never regretted something more. As Seungcheol adjusts you over his thighs, slotting one in between your legs, the fabric of his jeans rub against your delicate lace panties.

Your pussy pulsates and you've never been more embarassed. You will it to stop, but Seungcheol chooses that moment to dig his fingers into your hips, tensing his thigh, and your pussy throbs.

Little campfires breakout across your cheeks and you find yourself sinking back into Seungcheol's chest in shame. His breath fans across your ear, "Baby, why didn't you tell me you missed me." You can hear the smirk he's probably wearing, but even worse, you're sure he can feel the dampness pooling between your legs.

You should get up. But you know you can't. You know your wetness has seeped onto his jeans, leaving a dark spot, evidence of your need. Everyone would know.

His hands feel like they're burning into your hips, and he leans to press a sweet kiss to your exposed shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel Seungcheol move, and then a blanket is draped over your lap, covering your entire bottom half from any onlookers. Though one look across the room told you not a single person was paying you two any mind.

Seungcheol rubs his hand back and forth over your tummy, the touch feeling like hot coals dragging across your skin. Back. Forth. Back. Forth

Then, his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt.

You don't say anything as you feel his fingers skate across your clothed mound. When he finds your lips, he pushes down with two fingers. You suck in a breath and hold, mind going completely blank.

You should push his hand away. Scold him with a serious, Seungcheol!

But you don't.

Arousal flows out of you, staining his jeans. Evidence of your want, no, your need for your boyfriend.

Seungcheol, the devil he is, starts rubbing the slowest, most languid, circles, smirking into your neck when you start squirming in his lap.

"If you don't like it, you can just get up and leave baby," he whispers, nipping at your ear lobe.

You subtly shake your head no, worried that if you open your mouth, the most obscene sound would come out.

Seungcheol uses his other hand to pull at your thigh, spreading your legs further apart. He pushes your barely there panty aside and plunges a finger in. Your breath hitches at the sensation and your eyes flit around the room, but no one is paying you two any attention.

Seungcheol starts to pump his finger at a torturous pace and you try to keep your breathing even. He ghosts his lips up your neck, whispering, "Can you handle one more baby?" You shake your head with a quick no, biting down on your bottom lip.

Seungcheol's finger freezes and a low whine escapes your lips.

You move your hips just a little bit, chasing what little friction you could find, but Seungcheol tightens the hold on your thigh. "Seungcheol," You mean it to come out stern, but your voice is breathy and light.

"One more baby," Seungcheol nudges your neck with his nose and lets his teeth graze your skin. A shudder rolls through you as your pussy clenches around his single, slender finger.

You already know you've lost. You need Seungcheol to make you feel as full as possible. You nod shyly.

"Hmm?" Seungcheol says quietly, "I need to hear you baby." You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes," You breathe out, looking around again to see not a single person paying attention. Seungcheol pushes his second finger in and you bite your lip again to stop the moan that nearly comes out.

Your breathing gets heavier as he curls his fingers just how you like it and your thighs start to tremble as you near your peak. "Are you close baby?" You nod as your fingers grab at the blanket in your lap. He continues to curl his fingers, a little faster now.

Your breathing turns into little whimpers that you try to keep down, but to no avail.

Seungcheol whispers one last, sweet, "Let go for me love," and you're cumming, releasing all over his fingers as he lets you ride them through your high before pulling out.

You hear the pop! of him sucking the taste of you off his fingers and you feel your juices leaking out, soaking into his jeans. You lean your head back onto him, eyes squeezed shut, out of embarrassment or pleasure you don't know.

"Good girl," Seungcheol whispers, rubbing a warm hand over your tummy, and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby."

a/n: omg okay. this whole this was started because my lovely lovely v asked me do you think he'd be the type to sit you down on his lap to feel your pulse through your pussy? so this is really ur fault love sldjfsldfgldkzfgjdzfgkjdzfklhgb. let me know ur thoughts lovies!!!!!!!!!

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[dollfacefantasy]

LIGHT OF THE FULL MOON ♡

pairing: werewolf!chris redfield x fem!reader

summary: your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission. you struggle to understand the cause, not wanting to believe the worst. on the night of a full moon, tensions peak and you're determined to find out the truth.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, knotting, monsterfucking, predator/prey, breeding kink, size kink, dacryphilia, PTSD mention

wc: 6.5k

a/n: long awaited but i hope you guys like! happy almost halloween <33 reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated :)

kinktober slot: day 30 - monsterfucking

Your husband had been acting strange lately.

Not the typical mid-life crisis kind of strange. There was no new Ferrari parked in the garage, nor had Chris begun to dedicate his time to a niche hobby like roller skating. His behavior was much more... off-putting than those things would be. That was the only way you could think to describe it.

It all began at the beginning of this last Summer when he came home from a short mission.  The trip spanned two weeks and took him up to a sparse, expansive piece of the Canadian wilderness. You weren't especially worried about him while he was gone. You were more upset about the fact that he was going to miss your wedding anniversary than anything else.

Your lack of concern didn't come from a place of callousness. Rather the opposite. You'd been an agent too. It was how you and Chris met. Before a stray bullet to your thigh knocked you out of commission, you had field assignments of your own. You knew that they were only made more stressful when you had someone at home you know worries about you.

So you never did. You trusted that he'd come back to you in one piece like he always does.

This time he did come back in one piece. Walked through the front door like usual with his bag slung across his back and his arms ready for you. You crossed the foyer and sprung yourself against his chest, your smaller arms wrapped around his bulky abdomen.

"I missed you, baby," he murmured, pecking your temple and engulfing you with his thick arms, "My beautiful wife of... how many years is it now?"

You rolled your eyes at the joke and tapped his arm. It was when you followed him back to your bedroom to put his stuff down that your eyes widened and caught on his forearm.

"Jesus! What happened to you?" you asked and took the limb in your hands.

Just below his elbow was a sizable bite. You could tell the type of injury from the crescent pattern of the cuts. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably came from a dog, but you'd never seen a canine with a jaw so large. The wounds were deep red, scabbed over by this point. The nearby skin glowed with the color of injury. You could tell whatever had got him, sunk its teeth in deep.

He looked down at the afflicted area and then back at you before shrugging. "It's nothing. You know how it goes. Those things can be rabid, but I'll heal up in a few days."

Your pupils continued to scan his flesh uncertainly. "I guess..." you conceded.

His statement was true. That wasn't your problem. Of course, you'd seen him with bites before. You'd even been bitten yourself on the job. But it never looked like this. So... gruesome. Upon looking closer, you could see tiny sprawls of plum-tinted veins accompanied by dark patches of discolored skin.

"They treated you, right? You're sure it's not infected?" you checked again.

"Honey, it's fine. C'mon, I know you missed me, but you don't gotta freak out about this," he dismissed in kind.

Despite his claims, he let you fuss over him. You were hesitant to even touch the markings, afraid of causing him pain or irritating the skin further.

He didn't seem to be hurting though. In his recovery, he never complained of aches or stings or throbs. Never held it closer to his body than normal or relied on his left arm to perform tasks. It did eventually heal. He was left with little white patches of scar tissue, but the other array of colors faded.

The only reason you had to believe that this incident triggered his change in behavior was that he began to act differently a few weeks later. 

It started with his sleeping habits.

The Chris you knew slept the whole night through. Rested against your back, spooning you. His body heat radiated from him like a space heater for a solid eight hours every night. He'd wake up with his face nestled in the crook of your neck and plant a few kisses there before pulling away to get up and go about his morning routine.

But now he didn't even come to bed before you'd fallen asleep. His side of the mattress would be vacant when you woke up as well. At first it left you to question whether he'd been there at all. Now though, you're certain he's doing something else during the nocturnal hours. The only thing you couldn't figure out was what that other thing could be.

The next piece of this puzzle came in the way he started eating.

Since that mission, he seemed to have a craving for meat. Red meat. Burgers, steaks, whatever you had in the house. He wanted it all and in large portions. Not only that, but the way you cooked it didn't suit his tastes anymore. You sat across from him at the dinner table with wide eyes as he ate the food you'd prepared to his request. A steak so rare it looked like blood leaked from the raw slab out onto the plate.

Anytime you'd ask about any of this, he'd brush you off with a new excuse. He was just sleeping less now. He'd stayed up later playing a video game. He was waking up earlier to try a new running regime. The food thing was just something his friend told him about and he wanted to try. Supposed to build protein and lower your bmi or some bullshit.

That stuff you could have overlooked, but then he started to look different.

You wanted to blame his new diet for the sudden thickness with which his body hair grew. And perhaps his new workout schedule effected him as planned and could explain the way he was bulking up and nearly popping out of his shirts with gained muscle mass. You weren't so sure though.

If anything, you tried to pin this on your own mind. You were being paranoid. Life wasn't some horror movie. Monsters did exist, but you'd seen them already. They didn't look like this. Right?

And in his defense, not all the changes you'd noticed were bad. Your life in the bedroom had grown much more interesting since his return.

That day he came back, you figured it was his way of making up for your missed anniversary. He'd pounded into you for hours. Rutted into your poor little cunt till it was sore and puffy, struggling to take his thick shaft. What you would've believed to be an impossible amount of arousal coated your inner thighs and soaked the bed sheets beneath you by the time you were done. You knew he had stamina, but for those hours, Chris seemed like another animal entirely.

Every time since then had been similar. They didn't last as long as your reuniting session, but they were just as passionate. He was so much rougher than he'd ever been before. Typically, your husband was overly-cautious with you. Every move he made had his size and strength in mind when deciding the amount of force he'd use to manhandle your legs or snap his hips against your ass.

Now he fucked without a care in the world. His teeth scraped against your neck hard enough to mark. His fingertips left bruises accompanied by the scratches from his nails.

He also came inside you now every time without fail. Since you started taking the pill not long after the two of you started dating, that had always been his favorite place to release. But how he would do it lately... you didn't know any other word for it but primal. When he came, he buried himself inside you. Every inch of his cock filled the snug space between your walls. He growled as it shot out of him, rope after rope. He stuck to you like he wanted to make sure not a drop leaked out or went to waste.

So on that end of things, you didn't mind his shift in personality. It only became a problem when he started going out so often.

He told you a myriad of different places he went to or groups he hung out with, but you didn't believe him. You doubted Jill wanted to see him at ten p.m. on a Wednesday, and you struggled to accept Leon needed some form of help that took him eight hours of the night.

It was always dark out when he was gone, and then there would be certain days of the month that he didn't come back until well into the next morning. That was what drove you crazy. You'd never felt such distrust in your husband before. You always believed him to be faithful. You didn't worry about other women or being replaced or a number of other things your friends complained about with their spouses. You and Chris were a team.

But that vision shattered when you decided to test out the validity of his alibis one night. It hadn't been planned. You always thought loyalty tests were for insecure people, but you hoped that's all you were now. This was just a bout of insecurity, not anything to be truly worried about.

You saw Chris left his phone on the kitchen counter one night, and the idea just sprung into your head. As if the devil himself whispered the words into your ear, you typed out a message to Leon, the man he was supposedly hanging out with.

"Hey, Chris left his phone here. Will you let him know I'll just swing by to drop it off if he's gonna be with you for a while? If he'll be back soon, I can just wait. Thanks :)"

With a shaky thumb, you clicked the send button. You paced around your kitchen while waiting for the response. It didn't arrive instantly. Leon took around ten minutes to get back to you.

"Hey. Chris isn't with me tonight. I'm sorry."

Your legs came to a stop. You clutched both phones so tight that they were in danger of shattering. The ten minutes wasn't spent talking with your husband or doing whatever you thought they did together. It was probably Leon trying to decide if he should cover for him or be honest with you. At least he chose the latter.

You didn't send anything back to the D.S.O. agent. Instead, you went to bed, leaving Chris's phone on his bedside table. You curled up under your blankets. The emptiness of half the mattress caused you physical pain that night. Your eyes shut over the building gloss of tears.

That was a week ago.

Chris had still been going out every night and rotating in one of his friends' names as his unknowing accomplices.

Tonight, you decide that this is it. You're not going to be the sad little wife who's just happy she gets to keep the house while her husband goes out and plays with the other woman. You're done being fed lies and pretending you believe them. You're done being treated as disposable in your own marriage.

When he tells you he's leaving tonight, you say no. He's already been acting weird today, skittish and jumpy, constantly watching the clock. You aren't just going to sweep it under the rug this time. This conversation will get to the bottom of it.

You glare at him from where you're sitting on the couch, watching as confusion overtakes his features. Rarely are you ever firm with Chris. You know how to stand up for yourself, but he rarely gives you a reason to act any kind of strict.

"You're not leaving yet," you repeat.

His expression doesn't change. He stands at the beginning of the hallway to the front door, waiting for you to explain your sudden attitude. It's already getting late. The sky outside is pitch black except for the light of the full moon.

"Tell me where you're going," you demand.

"Out with Leon."

Your expression darkens. "Why are you lying to me?" you ask next.

He's got a phenomenal poker face because not a hint of doubt shows anywhere on his exterior. He doesn't look away, doesn't fidget. All he does is step closer to you, reentering the living room.

"Why would you think that?" he asks, voice calm.

"Because Leon told me you haven't been with him at all," you fire back and stand up. You bolster your proof with exaggeration, but you're confident enough that you're right.

Now a reaction does show on Chris. You can see his jaw clench and his gaze sharpen. This wasn't going to be as easy to talk his way out of as he thought.

"I really don't have time for this tonight," he says.

Your anger is getting ready to boil over into fury at his dismissal.

"Really? Because all I have anymore is time! You leave me here alone every single night! I feel like I barely see you anymore," you say, "I'm supposed to be your wife, but I feel like I'm the side piece at this point."

"You think I'm cheating on you?" he scoffs, disgusted by the suggestion alone.

"What else am I supposed to think?" you explode, raising your voice now, "You don't tell me anything! You just leave to who-fucking-knows where every single night and expect me to be fine with that? I'm not."

"Calm down," he says. His own voice grows firm. He glances down at the time on his watch. His pupils move quickly, looking almost antsy.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than this conversation?" you ask incredulously.

"I told you I don't have time for this. We can talk tomorrow," he says. His words come out with more bite which just stokes the flames of your temper.

"No. You can just tell me now," you say and cross your arms, "If you leave without telling me anything, then maybe consider telling your girlfriend to prepare for you to move in with her soon!"

"Give me a fucking break! I am not cheating on you!" he snaps, letting his voice boom, "There is no girlfriend. There's no one else I'm going to!"

He looks more upset now. Some definite anxiety mixed in with his irritation. He looks like he just wants to get out. You wonder if it's the panic of you closing in on the truth or something else that's bothering him. It makes you soften your approach the smallest bit. You sigh.

"Just give me something then. Something that will give me some peace of mind," you reason. You'll accept a half answer at this point. All you want is some semblance of explanation as to why he's going out every night.

But all he does is stare at you. It brings your temper back up, the uncomfortable feeling rising between your lungs.

"Just one thing, Chris! One fucking thing."

"I can't." His voice is strained as if he's trying to keep calm.

"Why?" you ask, flinging your arms up in frustration.

"I just can't. We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says.

With that, he turns to leave. You stand there stunned. But the shock only lasts a moment.

"You're leaving because I'm right and you can't think of a lie so quick!" you shout at him.

He doesn't even look back at you. His steps thud down the hall to the exit of your home. You can't stand it. How could he do this to you? This isn't the man you married. That guy never would have treated you like this.

Before you can even think about it, you're dashing after him. As mad as you are, you can't just let him leave. You love him. Nothing in the world will hurt more than him leaving.

He's moving fast, determined to get out as swiftly as he can, but you're quick too. You'd spent years of your life chasing mutated creatures that could sprint on all fours. Catching up to your husband was nothing.

You reach out for his arm and grab him at his elbow. Your eyes widen at the intensity with which he reacts. He jerks away as if the touch burns.

"Stay away from me," he says. The words don't even sound like his voice. They come out so deep. Almost like a snarl.

Accusations of infidelity are forgotten at this point because all you can feel now is concern.

"Chris... are you alright?" you ask in a much softer voice than you'd been speaking with before.

You reach for him again, barely laying a hand on his shoulder. It's like the touch knocks him back. He nearly trips over his own feet, crashing against your front door but failing to get it open. His shoulders heave, muscles in his back convulsing. A light sheen of sweat breaks out across his forehead.

This time you figure it's best if you stay back. All you did was touch him, but he seems as if he's going to be ill. You stand a few feet away, watching him nervously. His arms come up to cover his face, which blocks your view and prevents you from guessing what's wrong.

"Honey?" you try again gently.

"Get away from me," he rasps, "Leave. Go far away before you can't."

You're back to being lost. You try to think of what this could be. Maybe PTSD? Was he having some sort of flashback? You had accidentally touched the bite.

"I'm not going to leave. You know you can trust me. I'm always here for you. I just want to understand," you coax.

"It's not you I don't trust," he says. He breaks down into a coughing fit and his back arches. It looks like he's trying to restrain himself.

"Just tell me what you need," you say quickly, determined to help him through this, "Anything. Do you need water? Do you need me to call someone?"

Truly, you're lost on possible solutions. This doesn't look like any common sickness you'd seen. It looks more like an infection someone would get in the field. And upon realizing that, panic strikes your heart.

You don't get the chance to voice any fear though because he speaks first.

"Just get out of here," he growls, "Everything you do makes it worse."

Your heart pounds in your ears. What could this be? Did he have some kind of virus and didn't tell you? Maybe his unit was treated with faulty drugs. What if he had lied about getting that bite looked at? Your mind swirls with all these thoughts, and your breathing speeds up to match their pace.

You step back a little, but you're still hesitant to go. Never leave a man behind. That'd been drilled into you since the day you enlisted. You couldn't just leave him to suffer or maybe die. Especially not this man, your man.

You're about to say something else. You take a deep breath and conjure some words of reassurance.

But it's too late.

By the time you look back at him, you see the hair on his arms coming in thicker. It sprouts out another inhumane inch. His nails rise a little bit. The panic inside you courses through your veins with more intensity.

"What's happening to you?" you choke out.

"I told you to go. I wanted to leave. But you told me to stay," he grunts, still trying to conceal his face.

You're stunned into silence, trying desperately to think of what to say. All that comes out are the same words, repeated with a deeper sense of urgency. "What's happening to you?"

He tries to respond, but a strained groan erupts from him.

His body spasms. The seams of his shirt split as his shoulders broaden and muscles puff out. You watch in horror as your husband seems to transform. And then he finally turns his face and looks into your eyes. 

It's the stare of an animal looking at you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle a cry you let out. For years, you thought you escaped your time as an agent mentally unscathed. Besides the occasional nightmare, you never dealt with flashbacks or survivor's guilt. Your damage was purely physical. The bullet to your leg had been it for you. But now, everything was rushing back. Every set of sharp, gnashing teeth. Every creature that lunged at you with its insides on the outside. Every person that should be dead stumbling towards you and trying to bite. All of them, running laps around your frayed mind.

The only thought you could conjure while looking at him was that one of those things was in your house.

You stumble backwards in terror, watching as he rises to his feet. He stands taller than normal. His tattered shirt falls away, his pants holding on by a thread. He's more hairy. His eyes look more intense.

"What are you?" you cry, hot tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

His now-golden eyes continue to stare at you. The black slits his pupils had morphed into makes you nauseous. His chest is still heaving. It looks like he's resisting the urge to pounce on you.

"What's the matter? I thought you said we're in this together?" he growls.

"Chris!" you sob, "What is this? What did they do to you?"

"You know how it goes, baby," he manages to answer, "I got infected, and they don't know how to treat it yet."

"Why- why didn't you just tell me that?" you whimper, trembling violently.

"You think I wanted to see you looking at me like this? LIke I'm a goddamn monster."

"I'm sorry-" you say instantly, but he cuts you off. He's not interested in hearing that at the moment.

"I wouldn't cheat on you. I never would. I've been going out every night cause there's only two things that make this shit go away," he says, his words becoming more labored as he fights the urge to give into the infection.

"What are they?" you sniffle and wipe at your eyes.

"I go out every night to feed," he starts.

Another cry escapes you at the mere picture it puts in your head. There's no way in hell you're going to ask what - or rather who - he feeds on.

"But tonight, I can't because you didn't want me going out. So I guess we'll have to try the other thing," he rasps.

Your lip quivers violently. Why did he say we this time? You wait with baited breath to learn of your fate.

"You're gonna let me breed you," he says, eyes nearly burning two little holes into you with the heat in his gaze.

You feel like fainting at the idea. Your arms fall to your sides limply. Fear prickles up your spine and into your lungs. It feels like chains are wrapping around your torso, threatening to break your ribs. You could barely look at him like this. How were you supposed to...

"I- I don't know, Chris," you stammer out through tears.

"Well I do. We're gonna do this, or things are gonna get really ugly here," he says. It's a warning, not a threat, which makes it so much more real to you.

You're frozen again, unsure of what to do.

"I'll give you a head start. I need the chase," he says.

You stutter at first, unsure if you should take the opportunity to escape or try to reason with him some more. Though in the few seconds it takes you to contemplate this, it really looks like he's losing control, so you decide to take your chances running.

Whipping around, you bolt down the hall towards the back door. You'd have to leave that way since he was blocking the other point of exit. You plan your route in your head just like you used to during missions. 

There's also always the alternate possibility of darting up the stairs and getting the gun from the bedroom, but you aren't sure if bullets work on him, let alone if you could bring yourself to use it. Even in this new form, you still love him. You don't want to lose him.

So instead you practically rip the backdoor off its hinges before prancing across the porch and into the yard. The air outside is cooler, bringing a chill over you as your feet pad through the soft grass below.

You're in the process of hopping over the fence when you hear the door crash open again. He's after you now.

Breaths leave you in harsh puffs. Your limbs go taut with the instinct to survive. Despite the laser focus of your mind, you still feel shrouded in fear. Where are you running to? What are you going to do when you get there?

You couldn't just run to a neighbor's house. Chris might tear through them like this, and you don't want anyone getting hurt. But there's nothing else. You don't live close enough to any place that could help. Whatever mutation he had would probably aid him in tracking you, so you doubted hiding was an option. He looks more than strong enough to scale a tree.

It doesn't seem like there's any way to escape, but you keep sprinting, hoping for a miracle.

You're fast, but you can still hear your husband barreling towards you from behind. You leap over a log in your way and twist around rocks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the big chunk of wood go flying seconds later. Then you hear a whoosh in what you assume is him leaping the boulder.

A small whimper leaves you, but you still keep going. You run in a straight line to keep your speed up. Your eyes stay locked straight ahead. He hasn't caught you yet. You can do this.

But interrupting your internal pep talk, the muscles in your thigh seize up, and you shriek. You go toppling to the ground, hitting it with a hard thud. It knocks the wind out of you. Your fingers claw at the dirt as you gasp for air.

This is why you were taken out of the field after your injury. If this happened out there, you'd be seconds away from death.

Right now though, you don't die. In lieu of the force of mortality, your husband crashes on top of you. You scream when he knocks into you. His large arms wrap around your body as the two of you roll across the grass. The struggle ends with him on top, grinning down at you with sharp canines in view. His chest puffs with the exertion it took to get here.

When you catch sight of his face, you wail louder. His features are somehow more pronounced, and a pair of pointed ears have sprouted atop his head. This is worse than any nightmare you've had before. You thrash beneath him, smacking your fists against his chest and jabbing your knees into his sides.

None of your fighting affects him. He wrestles your arms into place with ease and gets your legs to stop with his own, handling you as if you're merely throwing a silly tantrum.

"My sweet little wife," he rasps as he brings his face down to nose at your neck. He groans, his hips bucking as he takes in a breath of your scent. "You tried so hard, but you knew you wouldn't win."

His hand snakes down to massage the cramping muscles in your thigh. He knows just how to soothe them. Even with the rougher quality of his skin and longer nails, his digits move like they did just after you got surgery. Must be muscle memory.

He coos at your tears, nuzzling them away. "Shh, shh, shh, little one," he hushes, "You're gonna be fine. There's no safer place for you than with me."

You keep turning your head away, not wanting to look at him like this.

"Keeping those pretty eyes closed won't save you," he says.

You whimper, now trying to squirm away from him. Like before, he simply wrangles you back into place. He holds you down with one forearm across your collarbone, making you feel doubly pathetic. You push at the limb, but it's of no use. It may as well have weighed 1000 pounds the way you're simply unable to move it.

His free hand comes down to your belly. His warm palm spreads out over it. He holds it there for a moment, feeling how your stomach moves with each breath you take. Then his fingers slice upwards. His nails tear through your thin shirt like scissors through wrapping paper.

You shiver as he yanks it free, leaving your upper-half nude to the night air. Instantly, his hands paw at your breasts. He gropes them, fingers digging into the plump flesh and squeezing them together. His mouth stays at your neck. He kisses the skin, but his movements are sloppy. He laps at your pulse point, heavy breaths fanning over the wet area.

Despite your fear, the touches still stir feelings of desire within your body. You moan softly as his canines scrape along your throat. He chuckles lowly at the sound.

"You smell even better when you're a little scared," he says.

Your pants are next to go. He shreds them into pieces, letting them fall off your figure onto the grass. You squeak at the sound of the denim tearing.

He grinds down on you harder. His hips roll with such force it feels like he's trying to meld you with the ground. The movements draw a longer whine out of you, which in turn sends a rush of arousal through him.

You feel his bulge filling out against your center. It seems larger than ever before. After all these years of marriage, you know what his cock feels like. You've committed every detail to memory, and right now isn't matching up. You wrap your arms tighter around his abdomen out of the instinct to seek comfort from him. He does the same with to you, keeping you flush against his large frame for a few moments.

But then he lets you go. He pulls back and pushes down the remnants of his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the sight of the engorged shaft. It's longer for sure, but it's so much fucking thicker. His balls look heavier too, hanging proudly beneath.

You don't get much time to examine it because he's back on you in an instant.

"You're gonna take it so well, baby," he mutters against your lips before capturing them in a kiss.

You mewl, overwhelmed by his body all over you and his tongue intruding into your mouth. Kissing back reluctantly, you feel his middle finger slot between your folds and press down. His sharp nail cuts a perfect slit in the damp fabric over your pussy. You shudder as now you can feel the air hitting your slick.

His cock soon interrupts that sensation as he slides it against your wetness. He rocks it up and down through your arousal. You're so hot there, between your thighs. He angles his hips downward and slides his length into you.

You gasp before gritting your teeth. Your fingers clump fistfuls of grass against your palms. He's so much bigger. It's always a stretch, but this feels like the first time all over again. You can't even squirm because his large hands keep a firm hold on your hips.

The new size also affects him. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. Inch by inch he fills you up completely. It's nearly unbearable by the time he bottoms out. Your lip wobbles and more tears stream down your cheeks freely. They blur your vision, but it doesn't matter much as your eyes flutter anyways.

He can feel the shake of you crying, smell the salt of your tears. Neither make him slow down or stop. He digs his fingers into the dough of your hips harder, keeping you steady as he ruts into you.

"My fuckin' mate. Could never want anyone else," he grunts. He fucks into you a few more times before nipping at your neck and then continuing. "You're ok, baby. You were made for this. Made to take me."

You shriek as a particular snap of his hips shoves the head of his cock right up against your cervix. Cries accompany your tears now. Loud sobs pour from your mouth in a deluge.

He lets you be noisy. The large grassy field behind your house provides the room for you to scream as loud as you need. No one would be bothering you out here. Even if they did, it's not like they could do anything to stop Chris.

Your walls spasm around the veiny shaft that pulls in and out of your drippy hole, desperate to acquiesce to the large intrusion. His rhythm is already so quick. He pistons into you like he's in a rush; like if you're not bred here and now, he won't survive, which isn't far off from the truth.

You feel hot breaths against your throat. They come out quicker than the knocks of his pelvis against your ass. Noises akin to growling scratch at the back of his throat but never fully erupt.

"It's too much!" you finally wail, hoping for some sort of reprieve.

None is granted to you though. More broken sobs explode into the night air, but his face stays planted against your neck just as his cock stays nestled in your cunt.

"It's not too much," he finally mutters after a few seconds, "You're gonna take it all, and then you're gonna take my seed. Gonna take my pups, and you're gonna look perfect doing it."

Your body involuntarily squirms at the notion. You and Chris had both come to the decision that kids weren't for you. With his work and the mileage on your body from your own, the two of you decided to forgo that part of the white-picket-fence fantasy.

Now he's breeding you with dedication you've never seen him give to another task. Sure he isn't himself, but you'd still be yourself if he knocked you up. With all your stresses lately about your marriage potentially falling apart, slip ups with your pills have been happening more often.

It's hard to think any of this though from the way he batters your insides and molds them to his will. Your thoughts fade away in favor of an empty haze where everything is about him. Everything feels soft and dreamy when you let go. You wonder if his mind feels like another version of this.

"That's it. Atta girl. You know you're meant to be a mama, huh?" he rasps as your body melts down into a puddle.

"Chris!" you gasp. Your legs try to wrap around his large waist, but they can't get a good hold with how fast he's moving.

"Keep crying for me, little one," he says.

And that you do. Your fingernails drag down the rippling muscles in his back as you whine and cry. The sensation doesn't affect him at all. There's no hint of pain on his face, not an inkling of discomfort. Arousal floods out of you and around his length as he just keeps going.

"Gonna get you so full. No way it won't take."

Your knees bat at his side, but not out of resistance this time. You just can't control the tremors that take over you. They make your legs seize up and flail.

"So cute..." he grunts, "Your little body working so hard to take it all. Just like it'll work hard at carrying my pups."

Finally, you lose control. You think you cum, but it's hard to tell because you don't come down afterward. Trapped in this never-ending high, your eyes roll back and your body goes limp. White fills your vision just as hot pleasure covers every inch of your skin. He yanks you closer now, humping into your pussy like you're nothing more than a toy for him to play with.

"Good girl. Let it all go. Nothing's better than this. Just doing what you're supposed to. My perfect breeding pet," he growls.

Despite the rest of your body flopping around in his arms, your pussy stays nice and tight. It helps get him there. Each stroke into your heat drags him closer to the edge. He can't stop until he reaches the peak.

When he finally does, he throws his head back and releases with a roar. His muscles tense, his hips moving with the natural desire to breed. He doesn't have to think about anything. His cum spills out of him and into you.

It keeps going for a long time. You're not sure if it's because you're so out of it, but it's the longest orgasm you've seen anyone have. You can feel globs of his seed spilling trying to spill out of you even though he hasn't pulled out.

One last burst shoots against your walls, but then something finally pulls you back to reality. The intense stretch of his knot swelling up. You cry out, eyes widening in panic. Your hands push at his chest haphazardly.

Like every time tonight though, he won't let you go. He holds you on the swollen base of his cock. At least now though, when he's not trapped in the fervor of primal lust, he has the decency to kiss away your tears and stroke your cheeks.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Not much longer. You did so good for me," he whispers before kissing your nose, "Sweet little baby. You took so much didn't you?"

You nod lazily, watery eyes looking to him for reassurance.

"Yes, you did," he coos, "You just have to let it take now, and then you'll be all done."

His body stays true to his word. You don't have the exact time, but it's not too much longer before his knot begins to deflate.

You're relieved when the burn of the stretch begins to recede and fade away. It allows for a hazy sleepiness to take over instead.

Everything fades away. Your eyes droop, turning your vision to black. Vaguely, you feel Chris picking you up and the faint bobbing of steps. You hear the door creak and shut. Then soon, you feel the softness of your mattress beneath you and your blankets draped above you.

The last thing you feel before you shut your eyes is the weight of his bulky arm curling around your body and the heat of his chest against your back.

[ilovenatasharomanoff2-0]

Starstudded

Warnings: handjob (n receiving) car sex, riding, kind of public sex, p in v, unprotected sex

Pairings: intersex virgin Natasha x Fem reader

highschool au

Word count: 2.6k

This relates to this post I made: Here

Natasha was taking you out on a date for your 6-month anniversary. She had devised the idea to take you out on a picnic date during the sunset. When you agreed to do this with her, a warm smile coated her face. It was something you loved to see and made you happy.

Once you had helped Natasha load the truck the two of you started to drive down to the park. Natasha immediately started to ramble on about the new Tv she started watching with her mom.

"Y/n, you won't believe me on how cool the CGI looked in this episode until you actually watch it with me. Please watch it with me." She says to you, turning her head to the side to see you looking at her. Her lips curled upwards before she turned her head back to the road.

"Mhm, I will Tash, but you gotta tell me when they air baby. You have a habit of watching the episodes and not telling me when you're watching them."

"Oh, yeah-I'll tell you next time, 'swear. I'm sorry!" She tells you, her hand running through her hair and returning right back to the wheel.

"No need to be sorry Nat, I know it wasn't on purpose so I'm not mad." You tell her, before looking out the window on your side. You stare at all of the tall buildings and people walking on sidewalks. It was one of the best things about living in the city.

The car was soon quiet with a comfortable silence. The only things you could hear were the soft music of the radio and cars driving past Natasha's.

you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, and you notice Natasha's hand slowly making its way to your knee, her touch feels warm and reassuring to you. She was too shy to move her hand up closer to your thigh even though the two of you have been dating for 6 months.

Her hand moved up on down slowly, she was hoping you wouldn't say anything about it. Natasha's head occasionally looked at you when you weren't looking. She loved you so much and never wanted to end it.

The last 5 minutes passed in the car. Natasha parked in a parking spot and got out of the car. You followed out and left the car as well, heading over to the trunk to get to blanket Natasha had bought just for this date. You smiled at it and looked at Natasha once more who was carrying the basket that had the food you two had bought, and her telescope.

"You really love that thing huh?" You ask her eyeing the telescope she had in her left hand, laughing a little.

"What? My telescope?" She responded back, closing the trunk and looking at you.

"Mhm, love it more than me?" You said back to her a fake pout coating over your face.

"No! I love you more than this telescope y/n! Sure, it was 3,000 dollars and I did have to do lots of begging for it, but I love you way more." Natasha pleaded with you, almost dropping the two things in her hand

"I was just joking Nat, of course, I know that you love me, my love. Now let's go find a good spot to set up this stuff Kay?"

She nodded her head slightly, trying not to make her glasses fall off of her face. Natasha locked the car and started walking over to the grassy area. You followed right behind her, catching up to her and walking beside her.

After strolling for a few minutes, the perfect spot to lay down your belongings finally revealed itself. It offered a beautiful vantage point to take in the stunning cityscape. Without delay, you began to unfurl the blanket, smoothing out the creases and placing it gently on the soft grass. Meanwhile, Natasha diligently assembled her trusty telescope, ensuring that it was properly aligned. so the both of you could see the stars and hopefully a planet.

Natasha let out a happy sigh, being satisfied with her work, and walked over to you. Seeing you already sat down on the blanket, she laid down right next to you. Her eyes gazed upon your face. She had the softest look on her face, you swear you could see a sparkle in her eyes when you looked down at her.

"You're so pretty y/n/n. I could stare at you forever, just like the stars." Natasha tells you before sitting up. A smile comes up on your face and you give her a kiss, her cheeks heating up with red.

"You're too cute Tasha." You tell her bringing her into a hug. Natasha let out a laugh and hugged you back.

"Can we eat y/n? I'm soooo hungry." She tells you, immediately switching topics but still hugging you.

"Of course Nat, you don't have to ask me you know." You tell her and pull away from the hug, reaching over to the basket and grabbing the food that Natasha packed for herself and giving it to her.

"Thank you, y/n/n," she said to you before she started savoring her food. She managed to get the workers at a popular sandwich place to cut her bread into two stars. It was the cutest thing ever, seeing her open up the plastic and eat her star-shaped sandwiches, You reciprocated her smile and reached for your own meal from the basket, enjoying it alongside her.

▹ 𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱𖹭⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤

Natasha and you had finished your meal. You two had talked about life in general. Natasha brought up how she was gonna bring her guitar out here but Melina said no because she already brought her telescope and she knew Natasha would drop one and break it.

"You don't understand y/n! I had this amazing song written for you, planned just for tonight and she goes and tells me I can't bring my guitar? It's so stupid!" She told you, her face frowning up.

"Hey, it's okay Natasha. I bet Melina would let me come over tomorrow after school, play it for me then okay?"

"M'kay, but it won't be the same..." She whispers the last part and lays down on the blanket, right next to where you were laying.

"Natasha it's gonna sound beautiful either way I know it." You reassure her and move over to your side so you can see her. You see her looking up at the sky trying to see any stars, her hands laying on her stomach. It was a comforting view.

After a while, Natasha shifted onto her side and fixed her gaze upon you. As your eyes met, a profound sense of connection seemed to pass between you both, enveloping you in a shared moment of contemplation and understanding.

Natasha moved closer to you and put her hands on your face. "I-is this okay?" She asks you, always wanting your reassurance whenever she touched you.

"Mhm." You whisper out to her. Her lips met yours, your hands wrapping around her back as you kissed her passionately. The only thing you two could hear was the sound of cars driving past the park and the wind moving the tree branches around.

By now most people had left the park, the only people that passed were peopled that walked and ran late at night. Natasha pulled away from the kiss and looked at you.

"Could we um-do this in the car?" She whispered out to you, even though no one was around. Her face getting red as she looked down at her pants.

"Sure baby, but do you have a reason why?" You tried to act like you didn't know why she wanted to go into the car, but you obviously knew, feeling the hard-on Natasha had.

"I-I don't know." She replies back to you, looking in every direction except your face. you let out a chuckle and look away.

You sat yourself up and started to put all the trash away in the basket you had brought out. Natasha quickly stood herself up and covered her hands where her hard-on was, turning her back towards you quickly so she could put her telescope she didn't use away.

You quickly folded the blanket that was placed on the grass and grabbed the two items. You waited for Natasha to finish folding her telescope before you went down to the car.

"You don't have to wait y/n. Just take the keys I'll be down there in a second. She tells you, giving you the car keys. You walked down to the car and loaded the trunk once more. You got back into the passenger seat and waited on Natasha to get in the car.

A couple minutes later she entered the car. Her hands still covering her hard-on, and her face was looking out the window, still not trying to look at you.

"Do you need help with that baby?" You ask her, moving her hand away from her cock and palming her through her sweatpants. A low groan left her mouth as she threw her head back against the seats.

"Please." She whined out to you, her hips already moving up from your movements.

"Already so hard for me Nat? Didn't even do anything and you're hard huh baby?" You tell her before slipping down her sweatpants, leaving her in only a hoodie and boxers.

Her cock standing up in its confinements only made Nat needier for you, a small wet stain was now prominent at the top of her boxers. She let out loud and shaky breaths and she waited for you to do something.

You slowly pull down Natasha's boxers, her cock springing out and hitting her stomach, a moan leaves her mouth when you circle her tip with your thumb, slowly bringing one of your hands down to jerk her off. Her hips move up at their own pace to fuck your hand.

"F-fuck, y/n if you keep doing that I'll cum too fast s-slow down please" She moaned out to you, her hands gripping the side of the seats while you jerked her off.

Loud moans kept on falling from her mouth as you moved your hand up and down faster around her, using your hand and squeezing it just a bit so it could stimulate Natasha's pleasure.

"Look so cute right now Tash, your cock is always so needy for me hm?" She looks at you again, her eyes hazy and her mouth opened, moan after moan leaving her mouth.

"Oh fuck y/n i'-"

With an attempt at a warning, Natasha cums all over her her hoodie and your hand. Her hips bucked into your hand slightly as you slowed down your movements.

"Good job Nat." You tell her before giving her a kiss on the lips. You pull away after a few seconds and see that her face is flushed with red, her mid-length hair sticking to her face as she looked up at you.

"Y/n-i'm still hard." She tells you while looking down at her cock, her glasses had some fog on them so she took them off and sat them on the dashboard.

"Go sit down in the back Nat, let me ride you." You tell her, Natasha doesn't need to hear another word before she's climbing over the storage compartment and into the backseat. She quickly takes off her hoodie, leaving her in only a wifebeater. She lets out a groan while she waits for you.

You quickly slip down your sundress leaving you in only a bra and panties, you make your way to the backseat where Natasha was waiting and sit on her lap.

"Are we gonna do this here y/n, I mean, what if we get caught?" She asks you coming a little scared of having sex in the back of her car.

"Do you not want to do it anymore? If you don't want to that's find, but I just jerked you off Nat." You tell her looking straight into her face.

"No-no I still want to do it, just please hurry it's starting to hurt. And my mom is gonna wonder why I'm out so late so we have to make this quick y/n/n" Natasha tells you before kissing your neck, her hands making their way to your back and unclasping your bra.

You quickly move your panties to the side while Natasha is occupied kissing your neck. You slowly sink yourself down onto Natasha's cock. You needed a couple minutes to adjust to her because she was so big.

Natasha stopped kissing your neck and let out another loud moan into the car.

"Feel so good in me Nat." You moan out to her and wrap your arms around her, sinking down onto her cock once more, you slowly get down to the base of her cock.

"So full baby, you fill mommy up so good my love." You tell Natasha, her head resting in the crook of your neck as you started moving your hips up and down.

The both of you let out loud moans as you rode her. Her hands make their wait onto your waist and move you up and down. Natasha's eyebrows are scrunched as she focuses on your pussy squeezing her cock. You two have had sex a couple of times, but she's so hooked on your pussy.

"S-so good y/n." She moans into your ear, her hips thrusting up at the same time as you. The windows were all fogged up now, the car being humid and hot. Your hand reached out to the window, leaving your handprint on the glass.

Natasha moved one of her hands away from your waist and onto your clit, making you moan out into the air. Her fingers fastened their pace when she saw the look on your face.

"Does that feel good y/n?" She asks you in between shaky breaths.

"Mhm, keep doing that baby." You tell her and lean your forehead against hers. Your hips getting faster as you got closer to your orgasm, you could tell Natasha was already close by the way her eyes started to close.

"Shit, cum with me y/n please." She begs out to you, the one hand she had on your waist tightening.

After a few more seconds you finally came around her cock, squeezing around her tightly so she can finish.

"Oh my god y/n," Natasha whispers into your ear before letting go inside of you, her hot cum painting the inside of your walls. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you catch your breath.

"That was good, thank you y/n," Natasha tells you before she helps you get off of her cock.

"Of course baby, but I do think we should get back home, it's already 11:30 and you said you were gonna be home by 10." You tell her before putting your sundress back on and giving Natasha her boxers and pants.

"Already?! Uhhhh, fuck my hoodie. Um, can you take it home with you y/n, I already know I'm gonna get questioned by my parents about why I'm out so late and these stains aren't gonna make it better?" She tells you handing the hoodie over shyly.

"Of course Nat, I'm gonna keep it for a few weeks because it will remind me of you when you're not next to me," you tell Natasha and smile before getting back up to the front seat.

Natasha follows closely behind you, coming up to sit in the driver's seat, she grabs her glasses and cleans them with her shirt and puts the back on her face

"I had a fun time tonight y/n."

"Me too Tash, don't forget I'm coming over tomorrow to listen to your song so you better be ready okay?"

"Okay, I promise I'll be up before 12," She tells you and you both laugh at her promise.

"Yeah, you better, or else I'm telling Melina to take away all of your comics."

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny y/n," Natasha tells you before she starts driving out of the park and driving you back to your house.

[reshinless]

If it's alright, may I ask for ZZZ Anton, Von Lycaon, and Billy Kid with a rather renowned g/n patissier s/o? Someone is known for having creative dessert concepts, and enjoys presenting it to them to try (Even though Billy cannot Eat.) Thank you very much! :]]

──── wakering steps

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. tasty treats, and its all for him! what? what do you mean you have a business to run?!

𝜗𝜚 pairings. anton, billy kid, & lycaon x gn!reader (seperately)

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. firm believer that these three + wise have sweet teeth (or tooths idk) ALSO SORRY FOR LATE REPLY WHEN I RECEIVED THIS REQ I GOT WRITER'S BLOCKKK

anton who wants to be your taste tester, bad and good treats because anything from you is a gift (even when he's throwing up at the toilet)

jokes aside, but anton definitely would love anything you gave him, especially with all the silly little candy on top of the cake, or the tasty frosting you let him try as he watched you from behind while you decorated a cake for a rich couple's anniversary

anton is very enthusiastic about trying your decorations. oh? they're plastic? *choking*

he's a real sweetheart for everything you make. please give him a slice or two after work is over, he'd really like that. or even just a simple treat.

whenever people come over to the shop while he's there, he's definitely flexing about how your his s/o. get him a shirt with those exact words while he's at it.

anton appreciates you so much. keep feeding him till you're both old and wrinkly :p

billy who loves your cooking. he compliments it, even when you know he can't try them

but i know that billy is someone who loves acts of service & physical touch. you know he can't feel them but you do it anyway. that's sweeter than any cake you've made.

billy falls in love all over again each time you give him hugs from behind, even when he jumps in surprise. you know what will fix it? a cupcake! come on come on! give it here!

he treasures everything you give him, ranging from small treats you let him model for (for advertisement), or the huge cakes he wishes he could taste. billy loves them either way

even if billy can't feel your touch, or experience the chance to eat your delicious pastries.. he really appreciates the thought you put into it, even on his birthdays, you bake him silly little pastries and cakes.

billy will praise your work a lot, he knows how much time, and passion you put into each piece, and knows it'll make whoever eats it happy. that's enough for him to ponder on what it could taste like.

lycaon is willing to help you advertise, he knows everyone will love a tasty pastry with a side of fluff

definitely very good at recommending you to others (him n his connections through victoria housekeeping >_o).

lycaon who loves every flavor you let him try, always asking him if its good or not, even when you know he'll say it's the best.. because it comes from you

lycaon who'll eat even your burnt, or ruined pastries (as long as edible) to make you feel better. stands his ground on him willing to taste anything you make, because nothing else can match the passion you put into your pastries

looks at you so lovingly from behind while you work hard to come up with something unique for next week's special. lycaon will help you come up with names for them if you'd really like, he knows a thing or two that would catch people's eye.

lycaon knows you overwork yourself sometimes, finding you asleep, face beside your newest treat. carries you bridal style to your room- the one you share with him. planting a peck on your forehead.

lycaon praises you for your passion, but is concerned you'll put it over your health one day. a day where he isn't there. very adamant on not letting you work past 5 hours on weekends

lycaon who's really caring for you, n loves you so much !!!!

THIS WAS SO CUTE I SHOULDVE DONE IT EARLIER11!!!

[skinnywalker]

Xenk Yendar swf and nsfw alphabet please?

Xenk Yendar SFW and NSFW headcanons

SFW

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Whatever he can think of to show his adoration. Gifts, physical affection, poems or songs of love, acts of service. Literally anything you want or could want.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He meets you in his travel and at once likes you. He's a good friend when you have needs or want to do something daring with. He does have some problems when it comes to jokes or small talk though.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Of course he does! All he wants to do is to hold you if you're ok with that.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He already has a home and is used to domestic living so he is more than happy and ready for you to join him in that life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He couldn't break it off with you. Only if it saved you from danger he knew he couldn't beat and even then its unlikely he fully break it off.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He really wants to live out the rest of his life with you so he is more than happy to get married.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

A human dove. Just the most kind and caring person alive and treats you the gentlest.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Like I said always wants to be near you. If you like hugs he's always all over you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

So fast. Like second day of knowing you but he'll understand if you don't say it back or are uncomfortable.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is a Saint in patience and holds no malicious feelings towards anything with any good in it so he couldn't hate anyone who flirts or hits on you. He simply can't distrust you to that point.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long warm smooches that feeling like hot tea fanning your face.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He loves kids! Not amazing with them due to his issues with speaking but he adores all kids. He'd really love to have his own child with you some day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He is up quickly and makes you and him breakfast. If you'll still in bed he'll bring you your food and feed it to you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He cuddles you against his chest kissing your head as you stare up at the stars together slowly falling asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He is open to you from day one. His trauma is something he is very honest about you learn more about it because he is closer with you than most.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Of a saint. Literally noting can anger him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. Xenk is so good at remembering things and he takes special note of the little thing you like.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He loves the time you save him from a horad of raiders by using his sword and bridal style carrying him after freeing him from their trap.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

You have the strongest, most capable paladin fighting for you. You're safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

All his effort. He only wants to make you as happy as possible in even date.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Confusion. He often doesn't know what is going on in the world so you have to explain a LOT.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not ever much. He very humble in nature.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

You've become the thing he fights for. He'd feel lifeless without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves history and he collects all types of books and scrolls.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He can't stand someone greedy or someone who mocks others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a regular schedule and can sleep anywhere.

NSFW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So sweet. Any type of comfort he can provide he'll give kindly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his chest. He loves how his armor shows off his pecs and stomach. And how you grip it during the act. His favorite part of you is your hips. He squeezes and grips you hips and love handles just for fun all the time. Hadores how his finger pushs against you skin down there.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He wants more than anything to finish inside you but only will with your permission.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves the smell of your clothes and likes stealing them when you're not around. Most of the time it's just to fill your missing presence but other time he just needs a little push when he's alone and in the mood.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has had a few partners but no real experience in a long-term relationship.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He wants to experience what it's like to be the ridden rather than the rider.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious like he always is but that doesn't mean he can't smile or laugh during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed. Cut and shaved close and comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

God if he could become one with you during sex he would. Even though he cannot he really seems like he is trying to.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely does but sometimes it's just been a little to long since he has seen you and he needs to release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding (regardless of gender) praise (both giving and receiving), oral (both giving and receiving) and sometimes being tied up.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Mostly just beds or tables but it's really up to you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you. Doesn't matter what context he just finds you so attractive. You could be dusty, dirty and musty and he is still down.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No hurting you at all and no degrading.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He really likes receiving but you'll never get him to say it because he doesn't want you to feel unsatisfied.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Whatever you want. If you beg him to go faster he'll go and if you just want lazy sex he'll obey.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really cause he likes taking time with you and he gets scared about performance during quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only if you want to and only small risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As many as you can. He has a lot of strength and he can take as much as you can dish out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No it's always just you and him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a drop of unfairness in his soul.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not super loud but when he knows no one can over hear you he likes to praise you vocally.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a slight oral fixation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8 inches uncut and thick. He's got a dark tip and is very sensitive.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high but he won't act on it if you don't want to. He is very patient and he can wait for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not for a while. He likes to stay awake and watch you rest.

[kerizaret]

I had a silly future wansho short story idea once where they're all working in various places n all over the world or smth but it just so happens that one of them, probably rui or nene, message on their groupchat that they'll be going back to shibuya for a longer while for some show or smth in a few weeks, and the rest are like :0!! i will be in japan around that time too!!

(Cut bc long post 😭)

And they find out that they'll be there in a similar time and there's actually some time to meet up or something. Emu is normally in PXL and I imagined nn comes first, rui second, and tks is the one who would arrive the latest bc he's supposed to be in the other further part of japan and can only make a trip to shibuya sometime later

But they all decide that they should meet up all 4 of them once tks can come too and everyone's p excited about it

But since tks comes latest and the rest can come earlier they start plotting that maybe they should surprise him somehow. And what better way than make a show together??

So they secretly start preparing a show and emu specially makes a reservation for the Wonder Stage to be free at the date they know tks will arrive and all

And then when the time is near (thdyrr already tigether n practice it) they tell tks to come meet them at pxl but come disguised (bc he's already recognisable and they "don't want their star to accidentally be stolen by some fans before they can even meet up" or some other excuse) and tks is like ok??? you're robbing the park of my amazing glory and presence but for u I can make an exception bc I also don't want to waste the time we'll have 😌

And so the day is there and he arrives at the park but he can't find anyone so he's like?? Is he too early?? Until probably a drone or smth flies around him and he instantly knows what this is so he follows the drone all the way to the Wonder Stage where he already finds a pretty big and excited crowd and he's like oh is there gonna be a show?? Do they want me to see it with them?? But he doesn't see wxs anywhere even tho he's scanning the crowd

And the drone leads him to the front seats where it turns out there's a special place reserved for him there and not taken and he still csnt see wxs anywhere but he sits down there since that's what rui seems to try to tell him. And then the drone quickly flies off and he's like hey!!! What am I supposed to do now!!! Bc the other seats beside are taken and not reserved, he realises, so where is wxs???

Until soon after there's music amd the sound of the gong signalising starting a show and the crowd goes silent and the curtain goes up and tks looks back at the stage and oh... there they are

Snd i thought it was a show about the moon (rui) and the sun (emu) who talk about a star that used to be with them on the sky until one day it decided it wants to spread its light closer to the people and became a shooting star to fall to earth and walk around it to grant people light and warmth. And the sun n moon admit they kinda miss the star so they want to visit it on Earth. So they contact their friend the sea (nene) who also helped the star land safely and guided him to the people to also help a manifestation of the sun n moon (probably a sun ray n some moon dust or whatever) reach the earth too and help them search for the star

And it shows the various journeys of thr moon, sun and sea who split up to search for the star together (the sea travels through rivers its connected to to visit various places, and also irs the way they keep in contact - by sending messages through the river n nene gets them and gives them to the others bc she can travel fast)

And they cant rly find the star but all 3 do some good and help the people too and also hear about the star and how its light reached and made ppl happy too. Until finally they catch some rumour thay the anniversary of the stars arrival is approaching and it'll be coming back to the shore it landed on foe the occasion, so they all decide to head back there and meet up and search for the star together this time. And they do that and at first they don't find anything and are mayve slowly losing hope (or time? Maybe the moon n sun camt stay too long on earth too)

But then suddenly there's a flash of light amd tks realises that the spotlight is suddenly shining on him in the audience and he looks up at wxs in shock and theyre suddenly looking in his direction and their worried faces are immediately widened by huge smiles and excitement and call oit thay there it is, there is their star! And start calling out to it as if inviting to join them and tks is kind of, still processing the whole story (and also super thrilled that he can see his friends again and getting v emotional with the story and their improvement both) and doesnt rly move so wxs call out to the audience to help the star hear them and the audience starts cheering too and tks finally snaps out of it and quickly takes off some of his disguise or smth (like glasses and hat n mask or something?) and moves to stand up there wxs are, reaching out a hand to him from the stage to help him walk up and he might already be tearing up from all the emotion and they provably hug or something in celebration and they start talking to him abt their experiences (still as the characters) and tks does have to totally adlib this scene but he couldnt be happier to act with wxs again and who is he if not a star who adapts to everything thrown at him with 12,000% so he also plays along with it as the star

Maybe he is also crying tho (and so are probably the others bc they havent met up all in a while and its v wholesome) and they probably expected tks would be like thay so they prepared a little dialogue for this thays like "ah look thr star is crying!" and they do some kind of effect of a meteor shower or wahtever as if the shooting stars are the star's tears (both to kind of make use of the crying to make it more imteresting for the audience and peobably to make fun of tks like "ha bitch we knew ud cry /aff" but theyre happy abt it) or smth idk about this tho

And im not sure how theyd end it but probably something like that the sun and moon soon had to go back to the sky n sea to the water snd the star still wanyed to travel and spread the light but they all agree to meet up once in a while like that and tell their stories n what they experienced or smth

N the performance ends and ofc everyone in the audience is cheering clapping and excited also bc this is the ultimate wxs comeback and many are their fans and this is like a huge thing and all!! Meanwhile wxs behind the curtain share a litle moment where they just hug for real and get excited abt the show amd tks thanks them bc it was wonderful and theure happy hes here too and they are already making plans whay to do next

But they have to go thank their audience still so they lift the curtain again and end with their "thank you all for coming! We are Wonderlands×Showtime!" To the absolute delighted and excited cheer of the audience

And maybe shosuke n keisuke n sakurako came to watch them too so they come up to them and talk a bit but im not sure

Anywya thays just a little idea thats been on my mind for a qhile

[celestesblossoms]

𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 & 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 - 𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓢𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾

omg HI BBYS its been so long!! well I'm back (and i have new silly obsessions) currently I've been obsseeeesssed with jujutsu kaisen. and ya girl knows u little hoes love gojo (me too) so enjoy some soft gojo smut bbys <3 I'll mark where the nsfw starts so all my sfw bbys can enjoy some fluff! also im sorry i could NOT be bothered to proofread this im so tired. LOVE U BBYS

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pairing: fem! reader x gojo satoru

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warnings: (ns)fw, its l o n g, foreplay, breeding, unprotected sex, p l o t

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you've been dating your boyfriend satoru for quite some time now, and you had to admit, it was pure bliss. his childish demeanor and carefree personality made him extremely easy to be around and trust with your feelings, and you truly loved him.

However, when the two of you had started dating, you informed satoru of your views on sex, and how you wanted to wait until you had been in a relationship for a while. you believe that sex is a very intimate connection between two people, and how you hate that its so overlooked and discarded.

luckily, satoru happily complied, for he was just happy to call you his girlfriend. he never wanted to risk making you uncomfortable or upset with him. however, that didn't change the fact that he loved to fantasize about you in all sorts of ways. he wanted you so bad, he wanted to have that deep bond with you that having sex with someone creates. so, he would wait for you.

yesterday, you and your boyfriend had discussed the topic of sex, since the next day would be your 1 year anniversary. as you got into bed together, you turned toward satoru. "hey, satoru..? I wanna tell you something, its kinda important.." you said sheepishly, semi-nervous to talk about the topic. "Hm? whats wrong my love?" gojo flipped on his side, facing back at you. you started anxiously messing with the bed covers as you spoke, "i uhm... i think i might.." you stumbled through your sentences. "It's okay, doll, use your words." your boyfriend replied, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. "I'm ready to.. have sex with you, satoru." his face lit up, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips. he was so so happy, he couldn't express his joy through words, so instead he pulled you ontop of him and started kissing you all over your face and hugging you tightly. After he was done with his little love attack, he smiled and looked at you eagerly.

"sooooo does that include tonight?"

"satoru its already midnight, wait till tomorrow I'm sleepy."

He let out a childish 'awwwwwww' and placed you back in your spot on the bed. you turned of your lamp and kissed your boyfriend goodnight.

"goodnight darling." he whispered

"goodnight baby." you whispered back

Its now the next morning, and you are woken up to see satoru already awake, eagerly waiting for you to wake up. you notice a vase full of lucsious pink roses, lilies, and snapdragons on your bedside table, with a little white ribbon wrapped around the vase and a tag that says "to y/n, love your boyfriend~!" in satoru's hands, there was a small bag from the convinience store

"Happy one year, y/n! I don't know what I'd do without you, youve made me the happiest person in the world, my love." he leaned down to kiss you, as you were still laying down. you stood up out of bed and kissed your boyfriend on the forehead, having to get up on your tippy-toes to reach it. "Happy one year, satoru!" you smiled at him. you then directed your attention toward the bag from the convience store. "whats in here?" you asked, as your hand reached out to peek inside the bag. Satoru swiftly stopped you, grabbing your arm and raising it up, preventing you from opening it. "its a surprise for later honeyyyy no peaking!" he exclaimed with a childish tone. you rolled your eyes playfully and he set the bag down next to the table.

he then placed his around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his other hand on your chin. His demeanor was changed. you hadn't seen this side of your boyfriend- the lustful, passionate side that was absolutely crazy about you.

(nsfw starts here) ~<3

"you have no idea how long ive waited for this.." he muttered under his breath, shortly after pulling you into a loving kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back shyly, nervous of messing up your first sexual experience with Satoru. he continued to deepen the kiss, picking you up and then sitting down on the side of the bed, placing you in his lap. he grasped the bottom of your shirt, look up at you for a nod of approval to remove it. as soon as you gave him consent, he swiftly pulled your top off of you, staring at your body in pure awe. you were his definition of ethereal, beautiful, stunning and everything in between. he moved his hands from your waist up to your breasts, fondling and gently playing with them. your face was red, as you let out quiet moans caused by your boyfriend's touch. he proceeded to unhook your bra, exposing your chest completely. at first you covered them, still feeling nervous about messing up around gojo. he looked up at you and gave you a reassuring "its alright baby, its just me." you eased up and uncovered them, and satoru proceeded to play with them. "fuck baby... I just love your body so much, I wanna touch you all dayy.." he muttered.

he then flipped the two of you over. Now you were underneath him, and his slim figure towered over you. he proceeded to take his shirt off, exposing his abs and well-toned body. you couldn't help but to stare, and he found that quite amusing. "see something you like darling? hmm?" he teased you playfully. he slowly started moving his hand down your body, gently running hsi fingers against your bare skin, untill he got down to your panties. you didnt have any bottoms on, since you slept in your underwear and a tee shirt. Satoru then moved his fingers in soft little circled around your clothed clit, absolutely adoring all the noises you were making. You moaned softly, inhaling sharply and biting your bottom lip, trying to not wake up the people in the apartment next to you. Gojo then moved his hand into your panties, slipping one finger inside you while using his thumb to play with your clit some more. He went back in to kiss you, to try and muffle your moans. "come on now.. baby.. don't wanna. wake the.. neighborsss ..~" he teased you, muttering each word between kisses.

After using his fingers to loosen you up a bit more, satoru pulled down his sweats and boxers to reveal his throbbing, hard dick. He'd been waiting so so long for this, and it felt like what was happening wasn't real for the both of you. he moved the seat of your panties to the side, rubbing his tip against your entrance. you looked up at him with desperate eyes, "please satoru. I need you so bad right now.."

Satoru didn't know what about that statement turned him on so much, but the next thing you know his entire length is fully inside you. you inhale sharply and moan, trying to contain your noises. "fuck, baby... you feel so good. I can feel you tightening up around my dick." he smirks at you, amused. before you can respond, gojo starts thrusting in and out of you, his hips hitting yours in a deep, steady motion. you grip the sheets tightly, as the burning sensation quickly turns into a feeling of absolute bliss and pleasure. gojo's dick hits your g-spot multiple times and you can feel him slowly start to pick up his pace.

"uhg, I love your pussy so much...I could fuck you all day long baby.." satoru moaned out softly, watching the area between your legs become an absolute mess. "I'm close baby.. were do you want me to cum?"

"cum inside me, please.."

"huh?" satoru questioned your response "baby, are you sure? like your positive.."

you cut him off. "I'm on the pill already baby, I take it to help with cramps! please just cum inside me!" you begged and pleaded him

"whatever you please, princess." he sped up a lot, his stroke getting sloppier and sloppier with each time his hips hit yours. The room is filled with sounds coming from the two of you- moaning, slapping, heavy breathing, grunting. You both reach your climax at the same time, feeling his hot cum fill up your pussy. He pulled out, and proceeded to lay down next to you.

"fuck baby.... I love you so much, you know that right?" he tells you, out of breath. "of course baby, I love you a lot too." He swiftly gets up, putting his boxers on. "Let me clean you up honey. I made quite a mess of you~" he jokes. "I'll start a bath for you baby. Oh! and that bag you were so interested in earlier? Its filled with your favorite chocolates. I thought it would be nice to have during aftercare" he smiled at you, picking up the bag and handing it to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. Your eyes lit up as you looked down at the assortment of chocolate inside the bag, picking out a raspberry jam square. You smiled at your boyfriend as he went to go into the bathroom to start your bath

"hey satoru?"

"yes my love?" he turned his head around

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

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a//n: bro no joke wrote this on a whim in one night LMAOOO enjoy you guys

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader 

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical? 

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it. 

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.”  You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.  

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you. 

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there. 

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets.  “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?” 

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together. 

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?” 

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.” 

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted. 

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones. 

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so. 

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.” 

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it. 

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it. 

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on.  This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You) 

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life. 

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again;  “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words. 

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.” 

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down. 

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones. 

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit. 

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay. 

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror. 

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over. 

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating. 

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about. 

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly. 

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look. 

“I know. It’s our lucky day.” 

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up. 

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up. 

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets. 

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way. 

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything. 

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?  

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned. 

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you. 

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music. 

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents. 

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse. 

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter. 

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen. 

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat. 

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through. 

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?” 

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

 You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing? 

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay. 

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself. 

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror. 

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on. 

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed. 

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.” 

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you. 

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket. 

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns. 

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo?  As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.”  You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together. 

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout. 

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him.  You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea. 

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be. 

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it. 

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”  His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background. 

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet. 

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair. 

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor. 

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him. 

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out. 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.” 

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh. 

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously. 

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small. 

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull. 

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell. 

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp. 

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly. 

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself  as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside. 

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off. 

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you. 

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs. 

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit.  Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life. 

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s.  He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again. 

“Feel good?” 

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again. 

“Fuck,” he responds. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance. 

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist. 

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor. 

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.  

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you. 

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again. 

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars. 

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths. 

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps. 

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly. 

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy. 

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing. 

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love. 

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.” 

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein. 

[prncssie]

caution! mdni 7k wrdz, prowler!hobie, brat reader, black fem reader, afab reader, reader at a club, hobie n reader argue for a bit, alcohol consumption, car sex, public sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, plan b mentioned, oral fixation, drool/spit, spanking, pretty sure that's it

miffy's note! had plans for this and it did not go in the direction i thought it was going to go in but that's okay bc it would fit better with another character i may or may not write for in the future wink wink hope you like ; pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

the blinding white light coming from your friend’s phone screen does nothing to stop your current mission. if anything, it’s encouragement for you to lick the rim of the shot glass, nestled snugly between the breasts of your other friend, gianna. there’s a grin on your face as your teeth clamps down on the glass. you throw your head back and allow for the alcohol to burn its way down your throat. around you, people holler their praises for your behavior. adrenaline courses through your veins as you lean against gianna, wrapping your arms around her neck in tune to wrapping your lips around hers, plucking the green lime from between her teeth.

“bow, bow, bow!” addison shouts over the excitement. her fingers tap the skin of your ass, shaking in ripples from the way you shake your hips with a small smile on your face.

the club scene is one of your favorite places to be on a saturday night. it’s one of the few times you can justify wearing the tiny denim dress, skirt pleated and fanning out around your thighs. there is nothing that can keep you away from the loud music unless you wanted to, not even hobie.

hobie brown, the one person you were supposed to spend your night with. you remember the morning, the argument that ensued about your plans tonight. your anniversary has always been a big deal to you and he knows that. you just simply can’t wrap your head around why him handling what secret business he has is more important than your happiness. how hard can it be to just put it off for another tonight? what does he even do?

it wasn’t addy or gia who offered to bring you out tonight, but it was you. you’re the one who invited them out, enticing them to dress up in skimpy clothes and parade around the city for free drinks and whatever club you deemed to be worth your time.

“i have to pee!” gia loops her arm around you. she has to lean towards you to have a chance of being heard over the music. even then, there’s still a quizzical look that crosses your face. the few shots you’ve downed throughout the night have dulled your senses.

“she said she has to pee, bitch!” addison giggles in your ear. her words are more slurred than yours and she stumbles on her heels. her hand encircles both of your wrists and takes the lead to the bathroom. her sleek ponytail swings behind her, changing undertones to reflect disco lights overhead.

“where’s your man, tonight? i thought you were going to be in the house.” she yells over her shoulder, following the slow moving line towards the entrance of the multi-stalled bathroom.

you roll your eyes with pursed lips and cross your arms over your chest. “i dunno! he said he’d make it up to me tomorrow but i don’t want to do it tomorrow, i want to do it today.” the smooth song change from the dj hypes you enough to begin a small dance in front of your friends, whining your hips in tiny circles.

your words make gia cast a look at you. “that’s so . . . only you would feel like that.” you know what gia means, hinting that you’re acting irrational to a small problem but you couldn’t care less. you know what you want in when you want it.

the line grows smaller and smaller until you three are standing under the dimmed light bulbs in the bathroom. gia has left your sides to relieve her bladder while your stare at yourself in the mirror. you smile at yourself, running your fingers along the braided pigtails on your head. they cascade down to your waist, courtesy of the added hair, and with very minimal frizz. you’re pleased that you had the opportunity to take pictures before you got to the club. they’re already posted onto your page, with little care about whether or not your boyfriend sees them.

“tell me if i’m wrong, though. i don’t want to do anything tomorrow because tomorrow isn’t our anniversary; today is. i would have stayed home too, all bitter and mad, if he didn’t specifically tell me not to leave the house like . . . what? first, i can’t celebrate our anniversary and second, i can’t celebrate at all?” you turn to addison who slathers her lips in shiny, pink lipgloss. 

“no, you’re right. there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to do what you want since he’s so clearly doing that.”

“he’s doing what? who’s he?” gia wedges herself in between the two of you and turns the knob until the water is rushing out the faucet. it’s too loud, even in the bathroom, for her to hear the conversation from the privacy of the stall.

“i was asking if i’m wrong because i don’t think i am. he told me that i can’t go out tonight but i don’t give a fuck. who is he to tell me what the fuck i’m going to do?”

“baby,” you don’t like the way gia is looking at you right now, “let’s think about what hobie does for a living. i think if anyone should tell you what the fuck you’re going to do, it’s going to be him.” she shakes her hand to dry them after checking the holder to see the emptiness. she can see your pout even in the low lighting and shrugs her shoulders. “but you know, do whatever you want to do. you’re going to be all over him again anyway.”

you know she’s right but that’s not the response you wanted to hear. therefore, instead of taking it well and considering her words, you huff and turn around to strut your way out the bathroom. “whatever, i don’t want to talk about it anymore. let's just go dance or something.”

you’re filled with a fervent need to shake off the thoughts that’s blossoming at the edge of your senses. it makes you uncomfortable to think about so you consider another drink, lingering by the bar. luckily for you, your anger works faster and you roll your eyes again at the emotions tossing around in your stomach.

you kind of expected gia to give you a more reasonable answer, considering she isn’t drunk and has always been more logical. you like her like that, thinking of your two friends as the little angel and devil that rest on your shoulders and decide what moves you make. unfortunately for gia, the devil is being just a bit more persuasive tonight.

addy’s read your mind and has already ordered another round of shots for the three of you. she hovers over the bar, looking over her shoulder every now and then to both ensure you haven’t suddenly vanished into thin air and sing song lyrics back to you.

you’re not too far behind her, holding one of gia’s hands and swaying to the music. you keep your eyes trained on addison for the most part, only glancing away to look at your surroundings and occasionally curve a man who gets too close for comfort.

there’s a brief second where the beat changes and your hazed mind is too concerned with enjoying moment and having fun. you anchor yourself onto gia and bend over until your ass is hiked up into the air and thrown around in quick circles. from your position, you’re unable to see the body that walks it’s way towards you until it’s flush against your skin and the fabric of the jeans rub harshly against you.

you immediately stand up, having no interest in cheating on your boyfriend despite the fact that you’re out of house without him being aware and advising against. the first thing you see is gia’s shocked expression, looking at the person behind you. the second expression you see is an awfully familiar face glaring down at you. it takes no longer than five seconds for you to figure out just who it is that’s standing in front of you.

by the time your brain had connected the dots and signaled the big red alert, there’s already a hand clamped firmly over your mouth and the other one wrapped around you waist, dragging you with him wherever he chooses to take you.

your stomach fills to the brim with fear, eyes pleading for some form of mercy all the way through all the shuffling to the vip lounge, somewhere you’ve never been. the sudden and new change in environment doesn’t bring any ease to the situation. instead, you’re struggling to turn around and watch the small shape of your friends disappear as the crowd swallows them up.

“don’t look at them, look at me.” hobie forcefully regains your attention by redirecting your eyes with one sharp tug of your cheek. “the fuck are you doing here?”

your lip trembles but you find strength in the fact that you are not alone. there are other people scattered along the little area he’s pulled you in, lounging on the plush black couches and pouring liquor out of the glass bottles on the table.

they eye you curiously, deciding whether or not your spat would be enough drama to be worth their attention. surely hobie can’t do too much.

“i’m having fun with my friends. the fuck are you doing here? i thought you were supposed to be handling business.”

you can see the way he clenches his teeth and grinds them together, eyes narrowing into slits. his hand, attached to the arm that wraps around your waist and keep you anchored in his lap, previously resting on your thigh grips it with a sudden tightness.

you’re caught in a stare down with him, partly out of fear and partly out of defiance. you sit nearly still and so pretty across one of his thighs. your hands rest in your lap, tugging subconsciously on the bottom of your dress.

“is that your girl?” it’s another voice that brings you two out of your silent argument, turning towards a woman taking a seat across from you. she gleams at you after hobie nods and leans back into the couch. “pretty little thing. should keep her away from me.”

you swear you hear hobie mumble “you can have her” faintly behind you and whip around to stare at him some more. your lips are pressed into a firm line.

hobie doesn’t meet your scrutinizing gaze. he keeps looking at the woman on the other side of the lounge instead. his thumb brushes along your thigh as a distant thought. “anyway, about our deal,” if you blink, you’d miss his eyes flicking in your direction, “i’ll consider it. y’know i don’t like following orders so if i do it, it’ll be on my own terms.”

you’re not oblivious to the glances you get. they look a bit anxious; obviously, you aren’t supposed to know what it is they’re discussing but it’s not the looks that make your stomach turn. rather, it’s because hobie is in fact doing business. you just decided to come to distribute revenge for something you’ve conjured yourself. you lick your lips and curl them into themselves.

the conversation kind of dulls to the back of your mind as you focus on other things. for one, you’ve tantrumed yourself into a corner and for two, your other friends have essentially vanished to the ether. the anxiety it brings on prickles your skin in a way that’s so uncomfortable, you’re nearly nauseous. you’re frenzied, seated in hobie’s lap and on display for everyone to see.

“ — nah, i don’t really plan on staying. we’re actually celebrating tonight so we’re going to head out.” hobie brings you out of you frazzled daze by shifted your weight on his lap until you’re up on your feet. he has to tug the back of your dress down to cover your black panties, exposed from the way your dress has risen and bunched around your hips.

you would have laughed if you weren’t nervous. “what about my friends?” you say as you trail behind him, hand in his and weaving through the crowd of people on the way to the exit.

“your friends are two grown women at a club. i think they’re capable of handling themselves.” hobie knows you can barely hear him but that doesn’t stop him from trekking forward. not once did he turn to speak to you or even pause his pace, up until you’ve both stepped outside into the cool air.

“okay but i came with them. i can’t just leave without telling them i’m leaving. they’re probably worried about me.” the whine is your voice is hobie’s breaking point.

he drops your hand and turns around, glaring down at you. your head is cradled between both of his calloused palms gently, unlike the way he holds you in his gaze. he’s tempted, right here on the sidewalk, to shove his thumb in your mouth to shut you up but he remains rational with what little sense he has left. “i asked you to do one simple thing. one thing. i said we could do something tomorrow. one thing, love.”

you reel your head back until you’re free with a miffed expression. again, your arms are crossed over your chest but this time in hopes of serving as some sort of protection. “i don’t care what you asked me to do. you should have rearranged your plans for me.”

“i should have what?” hobie’s voice gets pitchy with disbelief. “sweetheart, look at what you’re wearing and then think about who bought it for you with the money from their job.” his hand comes to run down his face, pulling on the skin with a sigh. “you’re being unbelievable, right now.”

you don’t hear him, not how he says it. what you hear is yelling, complaints, and how much he hates you. your sensitive feelings are wounded at him calling you unbelievable, especially when you make perfect sense. he is just too stubborn to hear you out. “so? you should buy me stuff. that’s the least you can do when you put work above me, work that i’m not even allowed to know about.”

again, you’re caught in a stare down with your boyfriend. both of you are steaming with frustration from the other not wanting to accept defeat. you have no interest to be caught at a standstill and certainly have no interest in being seen arguing on the sidewalk.

“whatever. you’re being a dick.” you turn on your heel and stomp away. your shoes click with each step on the sidewalk in tandem with your steps. in your hand, your phone screen shines bright as you scroll through the apps.

“where are you going? i didn’t park over there.” hobie’s voice only gets slightly fainter behind you before picking up in volume. his shadow lingers behind yours, always staying only a few paces behind.

your shoulders rise and drop in a shrug. “i don’t know. wherever the wind takes me.” you don’t mention that you’re planning on getting an uber, finally finding the black and white icon. your head lifts for a moment as you try to figure out what street you’re on.

“are you calling a ride?” it doesn’t occur to you that hobie is tall enough to just see over your shoulder, especially with the lack of a privacy screen. his hand comes in contact with your shoulder to stop you and turn you around to face him. “you’re not getting an uber, duck. i’m taking you home.”

“i’m not calling anyone and i’m not going anywhere with you, either. stay out my business.” you don’t even attempt to hide your phone from him. you let him watch you select the location and wait for the estimated prices and wait times to load.

“you’re being such a brat, do y’know that?” hobie has to physically force your phone out of your hand and into his back pocket to stop you. there has never been a moment where you’ve worked yourself up and listened to anyone but yourself. you being slightly inebriated is just the cherry on top.

“and you’re being a stupid ass bitch.” you jab his chest with the tip of your finger with so much force, you stumble forward into his arms. your words are laced with venom and you have full intention to keep walking away if he hadn’t tightened his grip and hoisted you into the air.

“okay, that’s enough.” hobie does what he can to protect your honor, hooking his hands under your knees. he sounds exhausted with this whole thing, taking it upon himself to take matters into his own hands. “you’ve officially lost of your mind”

you can squirm all you want but it’s no match for his iron grip. it still surprises you that someone as lanky as hobie is about to throw you around with such ease. he doesn’t even struggle with so much as a grunt.

“you’re being a prick. i hate you!” your forced proximity only upsets you further and is shown through your exaggerated dramatics. you’re upset, but still feel the need to wrap your arms around his neck for added stability.

“mhm,” he hums, adjusting your weight so he can gain the ability to pull his keys out of his pockets. you’re not sure what type of car he drives and truthfully, you’re not too interested in knowing.

all you know is it’s sleek, black, and the only thing hobie splurged on in your entire relationship. it must be nice if people gawk and take pictures when he speeds past on the highway.

the doors unlock with a chime and a small flash of the headlights. right after, hobie pops the door open and slots you inside and nicely as he can. he’s a bit too tall to do it comfortably, having to hunch over to get you in the car.

you huff and whine and groan behind the tinted windows, legs and arms crossed. you sit and stare out the windshield when hobie rounds the front of the car and gets in the drivers seat.

hobie doesn’t start the car right away. instead, he sighs and looks over at you. he reaches over the middle console to encompass your hand under his. “do you want to try that again or are you going to keep acting like a spoiled brat?”

“i’m not acting like anything.” you don’t bother to move your hand away or turn to look at him. you just sit there, knees turned towards your door and away from him. this is your silent announcement. you’ve made your choice and you’re standing firm in it.

“you’re right. you’re not acting because you are one. so are we going to talk about it or not?” hobie leans against the door. he’s dropped the keys into the cup holder and stares at the side of your face, trying so hard to be as flat as possible. “actually, you don’t have to say anything because i’m going to talk. you’re going to listen.”

“i’ll listen when i want to listen.” you mumble to yourself. it’s absentminded and really only meant as spite. it’s unfortunate that hobie doesn’t take it that way. or maybe he does. the lines blur together when he has your chin in the palm of his hands and looking at you with the most disapproving expression.

he doesn’t know how to get inside your brain. he can see the insistence in your brown eyes. hobie is already fed up with this conversation and it has barely began. no matter what he says to you, you deny and deny and deny any fault. all the blame belongs to him, apparently. that’s the narrative he’s forced to hear. you’re not going to listen to his words. he’s going to have to break you down using other unconventional methods.

hobie runs his thumb along the flesh of your bottom lip. it’s soft and molds around the imprint of his finger. the action does exactly what he hoped, warming you up to his touch enough for him to slide the pad of his finger onto your tongue and press it flat. “do you ever listen to the sound of anyone’s voice or just your own?”

you had nothing to say and even if you did, giving him a response would only prove his point. you just sit there with hobie’s thumb pressing and sliding around your tongue. your mouth is gaped open just enough for your teeth to rest against the hardness of his knuckle. drool begins to pool behind the bottom row of your pearly whites. you could easily pull your head back but you don’t, far more interested in where he plans on taking this.

“you’re being silly, dove. i’m talking to you because i can understand why you’re upset but all this other stuff is stupid. you can bitch and moan all you want but until you shut up and listen to me, we’re not going to get anywhere.” his thumb crawls further and further down the cavern of your mouth until your eyes are watering with what little oxygen you can get down. he holds it there until your throat is constricting around it.

afterwards, hobie smears the spit along your cheek. he pulls his hand back into his own vicinity and reaches under the seat for the chair. it slides back with the low vibrating hum until it’s at it’s furthest setting. hobie also moves the back of the seat back so there is enough space for someone to sit comfortably in his lap, that someone being you.

but not yet.

first, hobie reaches over and pulls your legs over the middle console. your skin is smooth with shea butter and sparkles with body glitter. his hands find your strappy heels, flicking the end of the strap up and out of the buckle. “what? you have nothing to say now?”

you’re still boiling with anger but don’t pull back when he slides your shoes off and tosses them onto the floor. “i thought you didn’t want me to. you can’t even make up your mind. first, you say i talk to much and then you say i don’t talk enough.”

“because every time i give you a chance, it’s just bullshit.” hobie massages the balls of your feet in a way that would have otherwise been romantic under different circumstances.

“you’re bullshit. you’re a liar, ‘bie. your business was not important enough that you had to blow me off for an entire night. you had a conversation and left.” you sneer at him from your position. your white painted toes catch the dull lighting from the streetlamp and contrast in hobie’s tanned palm.

hobie takes a sharp breath at your words. every time he thinks he’s made progress, you’re right back where you started. “you know that i get you whatever you want, do whatever you want to do. there is nothing in this world that you could want. you ask me for it and it’s done. one would think it’s reasonable to assume that if i ask you to do one thing, i have a reason. i didn’t pull that out my ass and say you should just stay home.”

“yes, you did.” you’re unrelenting in not allowing hobie to speak any sense into you. anything he says is wrong and he’s going to get the point sooner or later. it’s easier for hobie to agree, apologize, and make it up to you as soon as possible. “because you don’t love me anymore.”

it happens so fast, the way hobie has you pulled over the console into his lap. the movement is awkward and hasty and you can admit to hitting your head on the ceiling but in the end, you’re in his lap and straddling his waist, knees tucked on either side.

“what? are you going to yell at me some more, now?”

his response is not words but pulling down the tube top section of your dress down. your tits spring out and bounce with their newfound freedom. hobie squeezes them in both his hands, rolling your slowly hardening nipples between his fingers. you have to fight a gasp while your faces squeezes together.

“if i have to break you down piece by piece so that you think for more than five seconds, i will. otherwise, we can have a normal conversation and you can admit that you’re wrong.” hobie doesn’t have to wait for a response before he’s flipping up the bottom of your dress. it’s a good thing too because you don’t answer.

you’re a bit too focused on remaining adamant when hobie has his hands, searing hot, onto your hips. you chew your lip between your teeth and try not to make it obvious when you sneak glances down to your clothed cunt, right over his jeans. but of course hobie catches you; you’re right in front of him.

 “you know why i didn’t want you to come?” hobie holds your hips firm in his grasp as he rolls them back and forth on his lap.

your clit occasionally catches against the fabric covering his zipper. you swallow a mewl, hands circling around his neck once again. this time, your fingers have gone to lace together on the cushiony head rest instead of just gripping onto his shoulders. you give your head a small shake.

“because, pretty, i don’t want those people to know who you are. you’re my whole world. they find out who you are and don’t like something i do, who do you think they’ll take it out on?” he’s tempted to mock you, smiling at the whispers that fall from your lips. it’s a shame that it takes you this much to play nice.

you fight between moving away and crawling back to the passengers seat and losing yourself to him. in the end, you’re quickly growing agreeable, grinding down on him on your own so much so that hobie doesn’t need to do much but ensure you maintain a certain pace. “don’t care.”

two sonorous smacks against your ass rain out. the sound sizzles the air around you and you yelp, falling over his shoulder. you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin was already beginning to turn a very faint tint of red with how heavy-handed he decided to be.

“try that again, dolly. you’re gonna hear it whether you want to or not.” he rubs the stinging pain as an apology but keeps you held in a firm glare. he trusts that you’ll do it right this time or he’ll just have to do it again and again.

this time, you tremble and twitch. your eyes begin to spring with tears again from the pain but they dry just as quickly. “y – you.” you speak into the cotton clothing of his shirt. it nearly fills your mouth and muffles your words.

there’s two more slaps that has you reacting in a similar manner, lurching away from his hand  and hovering into the air. hobie forces you right back down, pulling your panties to the side. the denim underneath you is quickly replaced by hobie’s hand, circling a finger around your swollen clit. “again.”

“me?” it’s an answer you’re surprised about when you lift your head to look at him but it has to be true because the other answers weren’t. you have the sudden urge to pull your knees together but you’re unable to with him seated between them, drawing moans from your mouth. you think about leaning forward to kiss him but hobie must have read your mind because his hand comes to circle around the column of your throat and holds you in place.

“mhm, my entire world. the best way to get back at me is through you. i don’t like them knowing too much about you and getting you too involved. this is my shit and i like knowing you’re at home, safe, instead of out in the world when shit like that is happening.” he tilts his head as he watches you unravel, just from his fingers on your clit, swiping along the skin.

by now, you’ve gotten wet enough for his fingers to slip further towards your entrance. your arousal gathers enough to glide they’re way along your walls and push inside. he starts off with one to test the waters, getting a front row seat at your expression change.

“dirty fucking slut, all this to get you to shut up for more than five seconds.” his teeth catch the light, smirking arrogantly at you. “you ready to say you’re sorry? gonna admit you’re wrong?”

his finger is accompanied by another before he can get through the questioning. you can hear his smugness in his words but it all gets drowned up inside your head. there’s nothing that can get through to you except the sound of your voice and your whines for something more. “ ‘bie . . . please.”

“that’s not an answer,” he says, still pumping his fingers inside you. they find the little spongey spot that makes you squirm with ease. he considers you lucky that he doesn’t take repercussions for your slip up. “tell me you’re sorry for being difficult, treacle.”

hobie half expected you to nod and cry out your apologies. a part of him knew better than to expect you to turn the tide of your actions and actually feel any remorse. it just makes that part all the more upset when you confirm his suspicions and shake your head. “should have –”, your body trembles and you let out a gasp upon feeling your cunt twitch in his hand, “changed p – plans.”

“jesus fucking christ,” hobie grumbles in your ear. his fingers slip out of you in a squelch, deafening to your lust-focused ears. he doesn’t give you long to miss the feeling before he's wrapped a hand around your waist and planted a hand firmly on your cheek. with this new position, hobie is able to lift your body until you’re on your knees. with his other hand, he plunges his fingers inside you, settling on a rapid pace.

each glide of his fingers sends you into another spiral of frenzy. your legs shake to hold up your weight; you’re sure you would have fallen by now, had hobie not held you so closely to him. “oh my – fuck!” you cling onto him, hiding your head in his bundle of locs, tied messily at the top of his head. the bun slouches over from supporting your head and ends of locs poke out of the hairtie.

“i can explain it you all i want but you won’t listen, right? because you’re right and i’m wrong. should have changed my plans, huh? should have just said no, i’m going to spend time with my girl who has a more flexible schedule than anyone else this concerns. cause’ you’re a special fuckin’ princess, aren’t you?”

your nails dig into his skin, pink french tips leaving little marks. your mouth falls open in a little “o” and your toes curl beneath you. your entire body feels as though it’s going to explode. you can’t help but fuck his fingers back, pushing your hips farther and farther down as far as you can go. “mhm,” you aren’t sure what you’re agreeing to but knowing wouldn’t have changed a thing. “ ‘bie, i’m gonna –”

“i know, princess, i know.” he says, turning his head towards yours. he lips meet the very edge of your jawline, kissing what he can reach. it’s encouragement to bring you to the brink of collapse, shaking through your orgasm.

your cunt throbs, gushing your tart arousal all over his fingers. the feeling pulls a dull ache at the base of your core until you can’t take anymore, reaching back to swat his hand away. as relieving as it is to feel his hand exit the warm slickness of your cunt, you’re not quite done yet.

hobie brings his glistening fingers up to your face, after seating you back comfortably in his lap. they stick together loosely with the webs of cum stringing between them. you grab his wrist and stare at him with hungry eyes, resting his fingers into your mouth. your tongue wraps around them with ease and licks the tart dewiness of his fingers.

he digs his fingers into your mouth, exploring the wet cavern meticulously. your spit bubbles and spills out the corner of your mouth. you choke when he pushes too far but you lean into it, curling your mouth around his digits until they’re clean and shiny.

below you, hobie has begun to unbutton his jeans and pull them down with enough space to pull his dick out of his boxers. you can’t see much of it in the moonlight but you’ve become acquainted with it enough to grow horny again.

your hand flies to encompass the shaft and runs along the length. your circle the tip with your thumb, smearing the budding precum across his skin. you watch it get harder and stiffen in your hands, all while hobie forces you to drool and drool some more. it’s when he’s ready that he pulls his fingers out your mouth lifts your head with his wet hands. “i want you to sit on it, love.” he sweetens the deal by pecking your lips and getting the faintest taste of your arousal. if he had more room he would have had you bent over and suckling at your clit.

he doesn’t have to ask you again because you’re eager to raise your hips. you align his tip with your sticky entrance, still dripping from your previous orgasm. the first push of his tip in your pussy makes your face contort and twist. you pause to allow the pain to dull before continuing again, slowly inching your way down.

hobie sits, a hand resting on the door. the other comes to your cheek, swiping across in what you assume is supposed to be empathetic and soothing. he makes little grunts, the farther he gets into your folds. you’re just as tight as he remembers, but somehow even better.

you get lower and lower until he’s sheathed completely into you, cockhead nudging the deepest parts of you. your expression eases but your cunt flutters, crying out in need. you wait for hobie to do something . . . and wait and wait and wait.

hobie watches your expression become more and more confused, occasionally spurring up in need when his dick twitches or jumps. he doesn’t say anything, just showcasing a hint of a smile as your blown out eyes become more and more frustrated.

“you’re pissing me off.” you don’t wait for him to say something when you decide on moving, yourself. you rise and fall on his dick; it disappears in the space between your legs. you can hear the sound of skin slapping against each other in a melody that’s vinous, hazing your mind with a thick fog.

“it’s your dick, baby. take it yourself.” he groans. the feeling of your perfect pussy wrapped around his leaking dick makes him frantic for more but he maintains his restraint, gripping the hand grip on the door.

you’re bouncing on his cock as if you’re trying to force an orgasm out of you both. the car rocks in the street and the windows slowly begin to fog with each panted breath. it’s obvious to any onlooker or pedestrian what’s happening inside but it’s a distant thought in the back of your head.

the current position has hobie lined up right with your sweet spot but there’s just something that you aren’t doing. it’s so close, you can feel it. your body feels so good but it’s not enough. you’re partially satiated and still craving more, whining in frustration when you feel him mere inches from sending you astral projecting.

you’re growing desperate, slamming yourself down fervently. even with your mouth open and moans spilling out, you’re still frowning. your hand flattens against the ceiling as if that’ll do anything but still, you just can’t seem to get it right.

“shit, baby, you’re doing so good.” your actions do nothing for yourself but hobie is having a great time, head throwing back against the headrest. to him, you’re repeatedly swallowing his dick inside you. you’re pushing him to the edge, forcing out moans from his mouth.

you’re convinced his oblivious; usually his words would act as encouragement but now you’re just upset. you’re upset he’s even getting a chance at cumming and you’re not. it makes you stop rather quickly, a pout across your lips.

hobie raises a brow, hands falling on to your thighs. they dance along your skin and invoke goosebumps in his wake. “what’s your problem?” his hands slip under your dress and out of it again.

“this isn’t working. i want you to fuck me. i can’t do it on my own.” your hand is still on the ceiling and the other is still on his shoulder. you’re essentially cockwarming him out of sheer exasperation, telling him to do something. not begging, not even asking, but telling.

“what do you mean, pretty? you’re a big girl, you don’t need me to do anything. you can do it yourself because you ‘hate me’, and i need to ‘stay out your business’.” he mocks you with a matching frown, hands still gliding around your skin. they move up and down your sides now, wanting to pull your dress off but not having the space to do so without it being too difficult.

your pout only grows the more he speaks to you. your words in his mouth shoot back at you like chemical warfare. if you weren’t already so desperate to cum, you would have hopped off and back into the passenger's seat. “stop acting like that.”

“you stop acting like that. you’re being a real brat and want me to do something for you but can’t even apologize. y’know you’re being one too because you wouldn’t just tell me to cancel everything unless you’re being petty.”

“ho - bie,” you whine, a small fist pounding against your chest. you attempt to see if you’re really and truly incapable of getting yourself off. it’s evident with your whine when you grind your hips down that you’re unable to do anything. it feels good but it’s not good enough and you both know it.

“say it.” he says. he tucks one of his hands behind his head while the other goes to fondle your tits. they’re squished and tugged in all sorts of directions. “like you mean it or we can just go home.”

you let the idea sit in your head as if you’re really considering it but you’ve realized you don’t have much of a choice. you could have said sorry before on the street when you knew you were wrong but you didn’t. you put up a fight because being more wrong is better than admitting to being wrong.

the longer you sit there in silence — because hobie sure as hell isn’t saying anything — the more your dilemma dawns on you. “i’m sorry, hobie. i didn’t mean . . . i’m sorry for being annoying and talking to you the way i did.”

“are you lying?” he tilts his head with a smile. there’s still that same fire in your eyes, especially after admitting defeat. he doesn’t mind it as much now that you’ve said it though, because it’s just the first step in getting you to chill the fuck out.

“no,” it’s flat when it falls out your mouth but it works and you’re rewards with hobie’s hands on your waist.

he’s got the chair adjusted enough to be able to anchor his feet onto the floor. his shoes allow him a good grip to thrust into the air at a remarkable speed. his hands serve the purpose of holding you in place as he pounds into you.

hobie is a mess underneath you, whining with heated breaths himself. he holds you hard enough to bruise, falling so far off the edge that he drops your body against him to meet his thrusts. it’s hard enough that you go crashing forward within the first few seconds, perched over hobie close enough to feel his breath fan over your face.

if you could, you would have traced your finger over his face, paying extra attention to the dimple that comes and goes. instead, your head falls into the crook of his neck and you give up what little control you held on so dearly to your heart. “i’m sorry, i’m s – so sorry. was mean and i d – didn’t mean it.”

it only takes a little bit of his attention to change your tune.

“i know, dove. i get it,” he’s not too focused on your apologies when he’s ready to burst. he’s merely holding himself back for your sake, wanting to cum with you. his entire body is on fire and his skin is dewy with sweat but he’ll hold off, only for you. “shit, gonna cum soon.”

in response, you slink a hand in between your bodies and catches it on your clit. you tremble on impact but rub little circles in a messy manner. your earlier attempt did nothing but make you sensitive and needy. having hobie’s cock actually hit where you need him most brings an entirely new wave of desire.

it only takes a few more seconds before you’re sloshing out cream, sticky and leaving the base of hobie’s cock white. each clamp of your pussy convinces hobie that you’re trying to milk him dry. you’ aware or not, are practically begging for him to cum. you’re hungry for it.

he lets out a final gasp and shudders, releasing thick spurts of cum inside you. it’s hot and fills your insides to the brim. it’s nearly uncomfortable, dripping down your folds out of any gap the liquid can find.

hobie heaves a breath, gentle with the way he shuffles about to reach into the glove compartment. he can hear your complaints about the movement, too sensitive to stand it, but he doesn’t respond, not verbally. he ever-so-kindly pulls out his dick and uses the napkins to clean what he can. it doesn’t do the best but it’s okay, for now. “are you okay?”

you look down, lifting your dress to aid in the cleanup. your hair is frizzy and no longer slicked but other than that, you’re fine. “mhm,” you hum, patting your flushed cheeks with your hands. you wish they were cooled, feeling a little hot with all the warmth trapped in such a small space. “i’m not mad at you anymore.”

“oh yeah?” he chuckles, balling up the napkins and discarding them haphazardly somewhere in the darkness. hobie helps you back into your seat, reaching out a hand to brush it lovingly over your head and down the length of your ponytail. “you really have to start trusting me. i have your best interest at heart, lovey, i promise.”

you shrug dismissively, flattening a hand over your stomach. your cunt still feels warm with cum and you’re briefly reminded by the moisture around your thighs. “you should probably get me a plan b.” under the tips of your fingers, you can feel the vibrating waves of your stomach rumbling. “and some food, i drank a shit ton and after that, i’m pretty hungry.”

the keys jingle in hobie’s hands when he picks them up. he turns the car on and cracks the windows. music immediately blasts from the speakers, shaking the interior of the car. “i thought you were on the pill?” it comes out more of a question than a statement.

“i am but it’s just in case. do you want to be safe or do you want another brat running around?”

hobie rolls his eyes but he doesn’t do much more but hand you his phone. “just put in directions to the nearest pharmacy. two of you right now would be too fuckin’ much.”

[shall-we-die]

📍Requests for this list are closed.

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{Fluff Alphabet}

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↬[Fandom(s)]•⊰ {check my character list}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {None}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ──────┈┈┈┈─╮

╭─────┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈──────╯

╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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⇒ [Love and deepspace]🍓

Sylus || Zayne

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[A]ctivities: What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

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[B]eauty: What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[C]omfort: How would they help their s/o when they feel down/ have a panic attack etc.?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[D]reams: How they picture their future with their s/o?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]🍓

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[E]qual: Are they the dominate one in the relationship, or rather passive?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[F]ight: Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[G]ratitude: How grateful are they in general?Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[H]onesty: Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[I]nspiration: Did their s/o changed them somehow, or the other way around? Like, trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[J]ealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]🍓

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[K]isses: What are they kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you ? Where do they like to be kissed?

⇒ [Obey me!: Part 1 || Part 2]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[L]ove Confession: How would they confess to their s/o?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]🍓

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[M]ornings: How are mornings spent with them?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

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[N]ights: How are nights spent with them?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

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[O]pen: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

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[P]DA: Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with they're s/o infront of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. When others are watching?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[Q]uirk: Random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[R]omance: How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

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[S]ecurity: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]🍓

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[T]ry: How much effort would they put into dates , anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

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[U]nderstanding: How good do they know their s/o? Are they empathetic?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[V]alue: How important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[W]ild card: A random fluff headcanon.

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[X]OXO: Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[Y]earning: How will they cope when they're missing their s/o?

⇒ [Obey me!]🍓

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[Z]eal: Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

⇒ [Bungou Stray Dogs]🍓

[sweetchcolate]

drunken honesty

fandom: sugar apple fairy tale word count: 839

A/N: This was inspired by

my conversation with @adribelladonna about what a drunk Shall would be like

that one meme/incorrect quote of a drunk guy hitting on a woman, said woman saying she's married, him crying in disappointment, and the woman correcting him by saying she's married to HIM (or something along those lines)

Tbh though, I don't see canon!Shall ever getting drunk in any shape or form. Don't think he'd be fan of losing control :P

——–

The first thing he came to was the smell of silver sugar.

“Shall?”

Someone was calling him. Their voice was muffled, but sweet, gentle. He wanted to follow it.

“Shall?

His eyelids felt like they were fused together, but he managed to open them. Two red spots on a beige background stared back at him.

He blinked the fuzz out. The two red spots were in fact two eyes. They reminded him of Anne’s.

“Shall?” the person standing next to him asked again.

Ah, so that’s where the sweet voice came from. A hand cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the warmth with a sigh.

Those hands were safe. How he knew, he didn’t remember, but he was sure of it.

That was about the only thing he was sure of, in fact.

What… had he been doing?

He tried to focus, but his brain struggled with even the most simple of thought. He recalled bits and pieces: the clink of glasses, the off-tune chanting, Mythril Lid Pod’s incessant bugging…

Ah, right. Mercury had invited them all to a party — “To celebrate Anne’s fifth anniversary as a silver sugar master,” he’d said. There had been alcohol, and while he hated to drink, he had accepted a glass or two if only to shut Mythril Lid Pod up.

It seemed he had taken more than a glass or two.

Or maybe he just had some really potent alcohol.

Or a low tolerance.

Whatever the case, he was aching, he had trouble thinking right, he wanted to rest, and he wanted—

“Anne,” he breathed.

The other person smiled. “Yes, that’s me.”

Huh? He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus. The person had Anne’s red-orange eyes alright. Their hair was also the right color, a pale pink straw. But most importantly, they smelled of silver sugar: specifically, Anne’s silver sugar.

“It’s really you?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s really me.” Her smile fell a bit and he mourned its loss. He wanted her happy, not depressed. “Are you okay? I think you’ve drank a bit too much.”

The knowledge that this was Anne filled him with… with… he didn’t know what it filled him with, but he felt content and at peace. He leaned to rest against Anne, head on her shoulder. She was soft and cushy.

“I’m fine now that you’re here,” he mumbled.

Anne giggled. It filled him with pride that he could make her laugh.

Her arm came around his shoulders, and he burrowed his face deeper against her. When her free hand reached for his hair, carding her fingers through the strands, he let out a content sigh, mind and senses filled with her.

He could stay there forever.

“Let’s go back, Shall.”

He hummed. If they went back, then he could rest.

Hold on… rest meant going to bed. Going to bed meant leaving her. Leaving her meant being alone.

He didn’t want to! He wanted to stay like this, wanted to stay with Anne.

Ah, but wait. Didn’t married couples sleep together? If he and Anne were married, then he could sleep in the same bed as her.

Newfound resolution in mind, he found the strength to pull back from her embrace. He held onto her elbows for balance.

“Anne. Marry me,” he told her with the most seriousness he could manage.

She snorted. “I’m already married, silly.”

Something broke inside of him. It was like the ground had opened under him and swallowed him whole. It was like when Anne had sent him away, except a million times more heartbreaking and more confusing.

He thought that he knew Anne the best. How could he have missed her getting married? Why didn’t he do anything to prevent it?

But most importantly: “To whom?”

Anne smiled, a bit unsure. “To you, who else?”

And just as quickly as news of her marriage destroyed him, the news she was married to him made him whole again. His heart was back together and fluttering in his chest like a butterfly.

“You’re my wife?”

“Have been for a few years, yes.”

“You’re my wife?”

“Unless you have another brother called Shall fen Shall who looks and acts exactly like you, then yes.”

He embraced her with all the strength he had (which wasn’t very much: his arms felt like wet sugar), tucking his face against her neck, and breathing in her scent.

She was his wife. They were married. That meant—

“We don’t have to be apart?” he asked in a small voice.

“Is that what you were worried about?” Anne hugged him in return, rubbing a hand up and down his spine. “Even if we weren’t married, there’s no way I’d ever leave you.”

“I would never leave you too,” he confessed.

They stayed like that for a while. Lulled by Anne’s sweet scent and her warmth, Shall fen Shall’s eyes grew heavy, his breathing deepening. Soon, he was asleep.

“Shall? Shall, hold on, did you fall asleep on me? How are we going to go home? Shall? Shall!”

[berryyuni]

taste of love - njm

✿ you try baking a cake for jaemin in honor of your one year anniversary after there has been a slight change of plans.

pairing - bf!jaemin x gn!reader genre - est. relationship, fluff wc - 1.2k warnings - the reader and jaemin are incredibly soft for each other, affection, pet names

tiana's note 🎀 - so uh i came up with this idea when i was watching gracie's mess it up mv :p except it's a lot more fluffier

౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)

“i don’t know what i should do, mark. i feel like everything i had planned was thrown out the window.” you groaned, throwing yourself onto your bed. 

mark, who was on the other end of the phone call, stayed silent for a moment, “maybe you can buy him something? he’s been talking about a new camera that’s caught his eye recently.” he suggested.

“he’s told me about that too but i’ve already checked, it’s out of stock in stores and it wouldn’t come in on time if i were to order it,” you sighed. “it’s in 2 days, mark. i need to think of something now.”

you were stressing. you and your boyfriend, jaemin’s 1 year anniversary was coming up and you had no idea how to fix this problem. originally, you had planned on surprising jaemin with a trip for just the two of you to a town you’ve been wanting to go to for awhile now. however, the one thing you were worried about happened. your flight got canceled and you learned that jaemin had to leave for his upcoming concert the day after your anniversary meaning that he wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip anyways. this was supposed to be your gift to him but now with everything canceled, you had nothing. 

“you can make him something,” mark said out of nowhere, you can imagine him shrugging as he suggested the idea, “that’s the easiest option.”

“what though…” you muttered under your breath. suddenly an idea popped in your head, you gasped, 

“what if i baked him a cake, do you think he’d like that?”

“he definitely would, y/n. especially if you’re the one baking it, he’d love it.” you smiled, feeling somewhat relieved that there was a solution after all, “he’d appreciate it y/n, i promise. you’re putting all the time and effort into this, there’s no way he’d hate it.”

“let’s just hope i don’t burn anything.” you laughed.

“have the fire department on speed dial… i’m serious.”

you waited til the day of the anniversary for you to start baking the cake. you wanted to make a heart shaped cake with white and pink frosting with the words “happy one year <3” on it. it was simple yet sweet. prior to this, you made sure jaemin was kept occupied while you baked the cake. the last thing you wanted was him coming over to whatever you had going on in the kitchen. luckily, mark had your back so he made sure he kept practice running longer than usual - which earned him many complaints from the other members. but hey, it works. 

as you stir the batter, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the memories you and jaemin shared the past year. they were nothing but special to you. each having its own meaning in your heart. even if it’s only been a year, it feels like you’ve known him forever. you loved this man with all your heart. there’s only many more years to come.

you smiled at the sight of the perfectly baked heart-shaped cake that sat in front of you. the sweet aroma of vanilla cake filled the entire house. the plan was going perfectly, all you had to do now was frost the cake and chill it for a while before jaemin came over. 

almost as if jaemin heard about your plan, your phone pinged indicating that he texted. the message read:

nana <3: hey beautiful, i’m stuck at practice because mark insists on perfecting the choreography for the show so i’m gonna be running an hour or two behind :( i’m sorry baby, i know it’s our one year today but i promise i’ll make it up to you. i love you so much.

your heart swelled at his message. you felt bad for having your day with him cut short but you wanted to make up for the canceled trip. even if it’s not much, you wanted to show him how much you loved him. you answered with:

my love <3: hi love, it’s okay i understand ! you have a show tomorrow of course you should focus on perfecting it. we have all the time in the world to make up for it. i’ll see you soon nana i love you so much

after sending the message, you quickly set your phone down and started frosting the cake. you had no time to waste.

after what felt like an eternity, you finished everything. with the cake placed safely in the fridge, you had a little time left to spare. you received a text from jaemin saying that he was finally on his way over. you decided to set up your kitchen island with candles and wine filled glasses to set the ambiance. when the time got closer, you took the cake out.

perfectly timed, jaemin knocks on the front door. running over to the door, you opened it revealing a tired yet relieved jaemin once he saw your gorgeous smile. “hi baby.” he greeted you by pulling you into his arms and planting a soft kiss on your lips. 

“hi love, come in.” you led him into your apartment but you stopped him from going further. he looked at you in confusion, “close your eyes, i have a surprise for you.” you giggled, grabbing his hands and placing them over his eyes.

“a surprise? what did you do?” he laughed, he kept his hands over his eyes.

“you’ll see, are they closed? you can’t peek.”

“i’m not. i can’t see a thing.” he assured.

“good,” you began to lead him towards the kitchen, “keep them closed.”

“what’s that smell? it smells really good.”

placing him in front of the island, you moved his hands from his eyes, “ta-da~”

a surprised expression took over his face as he took in the sight in front of him, “baby,” he cooed, “you got us a cake?”

“i baked us a cake,” you smiled proudly, “i thought it’d be nice to make one rather than just buy one... do you like it?” you asked, slightly nervous.

looking at you, his eyes softened, “of course i like it y/n. if it came from you of course i’ll love it,” he patted your head and pulled you in for another kiss, “thank you, really.”

“i wanted to make it as special as i can even if it seems a bit simple,” you snuggled closer to his chest, 

“we were supposed to go on a trip but that didn’t really work out in my favor so i had to think of something else.” you sighed.

“Well, I think it worked out perfectly. we still get to celebrate our anniversary and that’s what matters. no matter what the plan was, i’ll still be very happy cause i get to spend some time with you, y/n.”

you pouted, “i love you jaemin.”

“i love you more, y/n.” 

“now,” you said, pulling away from him, “let’s get into this cake and wine, shall we?”

just as you were about to cut into the cake, jaemin’s hand rests on top of yours, you look at him confused, “what? i’m practicing for our wedding.” he shrugged, pushing the knife into the cake.

“smooth.” you laughed. as you plated the slices of cake, jaemin peppers kisses all of your face, neck and shoulders. “that tickles, jaemin.” you giggle, handing him his plate. 

before you take a bite, you raise your glasses and clink them together, “happy one year!”

“happy one year, my love.”

©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost

taglist (open): @p4tyaraujo

[heartfullyferal]

Because he loves her, and it's an anniversary of one of the most traumatic experiences in their residential period of time in New York when the r a t came knawing at the woodwork baring its teeth and then crying in its Stuart Little branded c a r while a nearby CAT tore away the remaining ginger wisps of hair, Demacrex is cooking Lizzy b r u n c h.

Yes, he's arranged a dinner for the evening and the arrangement of flowers are waiting there for them, he's not hammering down the door and asking for her hand in MARRIAGE when she's taken (Kai would). He's a l s o taken responsibility for the kids breakfast, and impromptu dance ten minutes they took before it, so she could have that time to herself.

Tony, women are more than slaves to the consequence of your two hip movements and inevitable pregnancy that follows.

.. Which is exactly why Demacrex has planned a manhunt for them. The kids, Kas has nursery, because they're responsible parents, and Lyra is going on a mini adventure with The Doctor today!

What's Valentine's Day without a little blood red? This blood red is going to come from the culling, the blood shed of the Riley! Boy does Demacrex have a surprise for Lizzy when she wakes up! And it's not a cliche proposal or pressure into sex.

It's called murder sweetie, and Manhattan isn't r e a d y. Freedom, liberty and justice for all from those that are Tony.

Once Upon A Valentines Day, Tony Riley went to the house of a woman who had repeatedly divulged that she was romantically o c c u p i e d.

And Happily So.

He knocked on the door with flowers in his grubby claw-like hand, and choked out selfishly in the most PATHETIC way, a request for her to be his Valentine.

While according to Tony, upon rejection he sat in his car outside and cried until the cops came, in the same way that Tony insists on controlling the lives of women- we control the life of Tony.

Tony got the shit kicked out of him that day.

And I don't mean he got beat up o n c e. His face hit the curb so many times that Lizzy lost count at the number of times she cheered. his neck snapped so many times it ran out of places to say CRUNCH.

His face was messed up by DEFAULT but by the time Dem was done with him, there was NOTHING.

Two years later?

Lizzy gets to wake up in the same family home. With the same fiance, with the same l o v e. They have two k i d s now. Can you believe that? Raised so safely, so gently, and so consistently while Tony makes children he forgets about and ignores.

Demacrex c o o k s for his family. He provides for them. He's built a career, he's built ALL the furniture in the nurseries, he has done everything for his children and will continue to do so for the rest of t i m e.

Because he l o v e s them.

Who do you love, Tony? That's right! Not even yourself. At least you got t h a t shit right.

A lie-in will solve every problem. It's a fact. And Demacrex knows it well, which is why he's blessed with the happiest smile when Lizzy comes into the kitchen fully rested. "H i baby!" Tony's wives have NEVER held such enthusiasm for him, because he could never be the light of ANYONE'S life.

"Happy romantic m u r d e r day," A kiss on the cheek interrupts his masterful chef work. "I love you, you have a present coming this a f t e r n o o n." She's got her Chaos Husband a flamethrower. Y e s it's got his name on it. Maybe he can use it tonight!

[battletowered]

Anniversary

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “ more severe darkest day au ” verse which I’m reposting and bringing forward to this blog from the archive for the anniversary.

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

     Leon shifts, rolling over in bed and throwing his arm over his eyes, the first rays of the sun already coming in through his window and shining on his face. There’s a thump and a pattering sound.

      One.... Two…. Three… Four… Fi--

     There’s a trill, and the feeling of a body colliding with his own, forcing the air out of his lungs for a moment. Leon feels a muzzle nosing at the arm over his face, trying to wriggle under the weight of his arm for snuggles.

     “‘M not awake yet.” he whines, though it seems to have very little effect on the excited pokemon squirming on top of him. He sighs affectionately, giving up on the idea of getting any more sleep this morning, instead prying his eyes open and looking down at the clingy flygon that has come to perch on his chest. Leon doesn’t mind it as much as he probably should. Instead he rubs Flygon’s head while he builds up the energy to get up and be productive this morning.

      He’s got a lot on his plate today, after all, it would be naive of him to think that trying to go back to sleep would make that go away. Besides, if Flygon was awake already, that meant that the rest of his pokemon were soon to be up as well. Even Margo peers at him from where she normally slept on the edge of his bed, as if confirming that point. Flygon seemed to punctuate that point by nuzzling at his face more persistently, and Leon laughed drowsily.

     “Alright, alright, I’m up!”

-_-_-_-

     “No, Goodra, I just finished showering.” Leon ducks a slimy kiss as he works on preparing breakfast for his pokemon. He doesn’t have to cook anything (thank god), but Raihan’s pokemon all had a specialized diet and he couldn’t bring himself to change that for them when they came to live with him.

    Goodra bloops at him playfully, and Leon huffs. It was a game they played every morning, where Leon would shower and try to get ready for the day and she’d try to ruin his dress shirt by snuggling him. He ducks through her wet grasp again as he steps around her, and she follows after him, finally taking notice of her breakfast in his hand.

     Once he’s managed to get everyone fed, he opens the rear door to his home and takes a seat at his patio with a cup of tea to wake himself up. He’s been living here for a while now-- it had been maybe six or seven months since he’d signed the mortgage for this place-- but he didn’t think he’d ever quite get over how pretty the property was. It may not have been quite Postwick, but it felt like home-- several acres of land that were open until they met the forested tree line or the corral fencing he’d spent his first weekend here putting up.

     It wasn’t quite Postwick, but it was close, at least. Plus, he was just outside of Wedgehurst, he really was closer to home than he’d ever been. It might have meant commuting to get to work, but it was worth it if for nothing else than the sense of peace it gave him.

     Well. Most days. Today he can’t quite shake the little pit of dread that’s sitting in his stomach.

     There’s a sleepy bleat, and he turns his head in time to see Lanolin. She bleats again, drowsily, and then bumps her head against his, giving him an expectant look. She seems to know that something’s bothering him, and tries to nip at his hair repeatedly until Leon laughs at her insistence. She seems pleased to have gotten whatever result she wanted, and then went bounding off into the yard to graze.

      One thing is for certain, he’s never lonely here. Not the way he had been in Wyndon. His home is always full-- with pokemon and friends and family. It had been entirely overwhelming at first, but overwhelming in the best way possible. A reminder of how loved he was, and he was grateful.

     At this time normally, he’d already be at the Battle Tower, leaving at the crack of dawn to be on time, but on Amelia’s request, he’d taken the day off. The importance of the date hadn’t been lost on her, he’d noted, but she didn’t force him to talk about it, and he appreciated it.

     Things were starting to feel a little more okay, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. He was adjusting, he guessed. Or, at least he was adjusting better than he had been before, because his chest didn’t clench painfully every time that he thought about it, now. It was hard to avoid dealing with those feelings when every morning Raihan’s pokemon lived and worked alongside him.

      Leon is too lost in thought to react fast enough when a pair of wet limbs encircle his shoulders, and he shudders as he feels a wet plop against the crown of his head and a contented blurble.

     Goodra wins.

-_-_-_-

     A fresh change of clothes later, and Leon is finally ready to leave the house. He glances out over the yard again, where most of his extended family of Pokemon have gathered and are now sunbathing or playing. He watches Duraludon and Aegislash play-fight for a moment until Margo nudges him and chuffs.

     He pats her cheek, but stares resolutely out the window. Now that it’s come to actually leaving… he’s dragging his feet. Margo seems to be able to tell, and she nudges him and chuffs again, harder this time. He sighs, but nods, finally.

     “Alright, come on girl. It’s going to be a long ride. You ready?” She watches him for a moment, like she’s trying to figure something out, and then shakes out her shoulders and spreads her wings so that he can climb on her back. Leon has no idea what that was about.

-_-_-_-

      It’s surprising how quiet it is. He guesses it’s because, despite showing up later than he did the year before, he’s still pretty early in the morning. There’s already bouquets and balloons, but no people that he can see, and he kind of appreciates it. The gravestone has been cleaned recently, and the two cypress trees which stand next to it have gotten taller-- they’re already taller than he is.

     He tries not to think too hard about that. It reminds him it’s been two years.

     Instead, he sits, and stays for a while. Margo didn’t want to go into her ball, but since she’s not bothering anyone, he doesn’t mind. He lays against her side, tucked under her wing. The sound of pidove cooing and the distant hubbub of Hammerlocke city are almost soothing, and it fills the silence that Leon isn’t sure how to fill himself. At least this year he has enough of a handle on himself that he can bear to actually spend some time at his best friend’s grave.

     He spends an hour and a half. Some people drop by, though most are Raihan’s family coming to pay respects of their own. He trades condolences with some and shares fond memories with others. It’s nice.

     Before he leaves, Leon remembers that he’s brought something of his own as a gift. He pulls a photograph out of his coat’s pocket, protected by a waterproof acrylic frame. Leon pushes the peg down into the ground next to the stone, and then steps back to appraise the photo. He hopes Raihan would be happy to see it. It’s just a photograph of Leon in his yard, the day that Raihan’s pokemon came to live with him permanently. They look happy. Leon has a lot more that he would have liked to have brought, but he figures the grave keepers wouldn’t appreciate having to step around two dozen acrylic photograph holders when they did their rounds. It’s a shame, the picture of Goodra hugging him hard enough to lift him off the ground that Hop too was really cute. Maybe he can bring that one another time.

     Margo pulls him close to her body as they turn to the exit of the graveyard, tucking him underneath a wing in a way that she hasn’t done since he was young. Leon lets her fuss, because he knows she’s only doing it because she’s worried.

     Leon doesn’t feel as bad as he expected to. Maybe because every time he comes here it reminds him how loved Raihan was, and still is, loved. He likes to think that wherever Raihan is now that he knows that.

-_-_-_-

     It isn’t until the flight home that the grief hits him, and when it does, it hits him so hard that he’s suddenly choking around the thickness in the throat and struggling to see as tears cloud his vision.

     Margo senses his distress and brings the both of them down to rest on the ground. They’re halfway home-- she lands in the first clearing she can find and sends several bug pokemon scrambling for the brush in panic when she does. She bellows over her shoulder in concern. Leon’s grip fails him as she shifts to stand a little taller, and he falls into a heap onto the ground, shaking because he feels like he’s not able to get enough air into his lungs.

     He doesn’t know what’s set it off, but he’s so suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that he was gone and Leon had never made the time to make sure he knew how much he mattered to him. He wishes he could still tell him, but now all he can do is leave gifts as a grave and hope that somehow his message reaches him. He feels sick, his head is pounding like it’s too full and he feels like his ribs are squeezing in on him.

     Margo has to drag him up off the ground, and she wraps her wings around him the way she might for one of her clutches of charmanders and rumbles deep in her chest.

-_-_-_-

     Leon doesn’t make it home until nearly 6pm. After spending 45 minutes crying, Margo had dragged him to one of his favorite bakeries in Wyndon, apparently having realized herself that whenever Leon was feeling down he buried his feelings with sugar. He’s exhausted, and the first thing he did when he arrived home was slump down on his couch.

     He’s awake for all of five minutes before he falls asleep right there, on his own couch.

     When he reawakens, it’s nearly 9 pm and he finds himself surrounded by pokemon. Margo has her snout nuzzled against his hand which has slumped off the edge of the couch, and Flygon has perched on his stomach, curled up like a sleeping purrloin.

     Maybe he’s not okay as he should be, but he’s starting to get there.

[therealromewrites]

Have your Cake

Fandom: Squid Game (Netflix)

Relationship: Hwang Jun-ho x Female Reader (Y/N)

Age: 18+ Explicit (Under 18s go away!)

Warnings: Smut, fluff and intimacy, vaginal fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, slight body image anxiety, food play, nipple play, P in V penetration, riding, eating off each other, praise kink, slight soft dom reader and sub Jun-ho (Slight tease).

Word Count Total: 5564

Note: This came to me whilst I was eating cupcakes and was desperate for a fic like this. Jun-ho was perfect and it took a different turn than what I was honestly expecting. It turned out to be more fluffier and intimate which works just as well. Next I will try to write out some of the requests. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! I can tag you in other fics as well and check my masterlist for more!

Tagged: @squidgamesmut​ @leia-origami​

Main Masterlist

Summary: Jun-ho has had a bad day and it was his birthday as well. He comes home to find an unpredictable present which turns his night and life around.

Have you ever felt like you could pull your hair out at the amount of shit people give you? Jun-ho was feeling more than just that, he was close to pulling his gun out on someone. Every hustling and bustling sound in the police station was the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. He flinched with every squeak as he marked up the police reports.

It was a slow day at the station as everyone seemed engrossed in completing paperwork. Even the police chief seemed dead asleep at his desk as Jun-ho huffed an exasperated breath, running a hand through his thick hair and reclining back on his chair. His eyes darted around the bright office before landing on a photo frame of you, his girlfriend.

An oakwood engraved frame with you laying on grass on a summer day. You looked stunning with a light blue striped dress and straw hat, you were laying down with glee on your face. It was your six month anniversary that day and Jun-ho had a picnic planned for the two of you. He made your favourite kimbaps along with soju which made you fall in love deeper with one another.

His thumb pressed up on the picture as the memories of that day flowed through him before his smile dropped at the thought of what happened this morning. He woke up in a cold bed with a message from you, saying you had to leave for work early and this spiralled into a troublesome morning. He had car trouble before being called up to a neighbourhood to deal with rowdy teenagers.

After those terrible events, he came to the police station with a mountain of paperwork to be processed because the main archivist was off work, hence every detective and officer needed to complete their own paperwork and process it. The time was ticking slowly as the sunlight flickered in the office. He needed coffee as he stood up and swung his jacket over his shoulders.

Jun-ho slipped out of his office to go towards the break room. The walls were a dull grey and the carpeted floor looks like it's seen better days in its prime as the young detective entered the room. It was sad looking with a tall metallic fridge next to a small countertop. A dripping faucet and an ancient looking coffee machine. The cup dispenser had been replenished as Jun-ho stepped forward to turn the machine on.

The machine gurgled as it began to boil water before it then shot out spurts of coffee into a glass jug. A small sound vibrated in his pocket as he took his phone out to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Happy birthday Jun-ho!" A smile came to his face as his mother's delighted voice echoed from the phone.

"Thank you, Mom."

"How's your day been so far, my angel?"

"Normal."

He can sense a frown from his mother's tone, following the next set of words.

"Did you not do anything exciting today? Where's Y/N?"

His heart panged a little at the mention of his girlfriend. His mom liked you a lot and cared for you like a daughter. Jun-ho tried not to let his disappointment show in his voice.

"Not yet. Besides, she had to work today."

"Regardless, she should have cancelled her work to spend time with you today. It's your birthday and she should have been there for you."

"Leave it, Mom! Besides I think she mentioned she had an important work deadline coming up so it's not right for me to tell her to leave work just for me."

"Still. She seemed like a sweet girl. The least she could have done was make you dinner."

Jun-ho rolled his eyes at his mother's admonishing tone. She meant well and besides he and you hadn't been dating for long so total commitment wasn't on the table just yet. Although he was ready to commit to a long term relationship with you, any way possible. The young detective poured his coffee into his cup and was heading towards his office, exchanging pleasantries with his mother.

Being engrossed in his phone call, he hadn't noticed the Captain was approaching his direction, the older man was looking disgruntled as Jun-ho bumped straight into his boss. The coffee tipped backwards and spilt over his plain white t-shirt. It stained and steamed immediately as Jun-ho panted heavily and fanned his shirt to cool away the steam. His phone clattered to the floor along with his paper cup.

The Captain let out an annoyed curse as the papers he had dropped to the floor, stained with brown murky stains. Immediately the older man's eyes flared and his face huffed red in anger.

"Detective Hwang! Why do you not look where you're going?"

Jun-ho could have burst at his Captain the way he was accusing him for not paying attention. He had no coffee and his shirt was ruined as the young detective gritted his teeth.

"Sorry Captain. Was in the middle of an urgent call."

"But still you had eyes to see where you're going right? Go home, Hwang. Take the rest of the day off so you don't bother me again."

The young detective clenched his jaw with refrain as he gave a brisk nod to the Captain's order. Which was total bullshit but at least he could go home and calm down about the shitty day he's having so far. He watched the way his boss picked up the documents off the floor, huffing and puffing whilst returning back to office, no doubt grumbling about his incompetence.

Jun-ho crouched down to return to the call with his mother but the screen was black and faded out. He couldn't believe his phone was dead as he angrily huffed to himself, wishing for the day not to get worse as he stomped out of the police precinct and into his car.

The music in the car was doing nothing to relax him, as Jun-ho stared mindlessly out his windshield. The traffic was now another problem to his mind as he waited for the roads to clear. Lunchtime rush was almost a never ending endeavor as he glanced at the time on his watch. His girlfriend wouldn't be home for another several hours which had his mood sour even more.

Today was not his day as he pinched at his forehead to send away the building headache. After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally allowed to move his car out of the junction. Not long later, he was pulling up into the car park of his apartment complex. Willing himself to be relaxed, he got out of the car and was heading towards the elevator.

It seemed his stroke of bad luck wouldn't stop as his eyes glared at the out of order sign. His apartment was on the ninth floor, Jun-ho pursed his eyes closed to once again control his temper. He shoved the stairs doors open and took broad steps up the stairs, rushing to get to the apartment before anything worse happened.

He could feel a slight sweat perspire in his back as he reached the top of the stairs, exhaling deeply before entering the corridor. The hallway had six doors to separate apartments, his one was at the end of the hallway. Walking up, he was about to get his keys out of his pocket when he heard the low hum of music rumble from behind the door.

No one else was supposed to be home and he didn't leave the stereo on as Jun-ho's senses alleviated to a high alert. His deft hand reached into the left shoulder strap, unclipping to get his police issue gun out. With a steady grip on his weapon, the detective carefully brought his key to unlock the door.

Once the clicks unlocked, he pushed the handle down and had his gun raised in front of him before putting a foot past the door. He took another step and brought his whole body swiftly inside, his gaze steely as he took in the darkened living room.

Deliberating between stealth or an open encounter, the latter was proving to be a better option as he exclaimed out in the unknown.

"Whoever you are, you are trespassing! Show yourself and I'll ensure you'll get a lesser criminal sentence."

"Surely as your girlfriend, I'm allowed to trespass whenever I want?"

Jun-ho's face furrowed with confusion at the soft teasing voice. It sounded a lot like his girlfriend but it wasn't possible. You were meant to be at work till late evening. Needing more answers, his fingers blindly went towards the wall, finding the switch and flicking it down so the lights faded on.

The sight that beheld him almost had him faint as he saw you on the floor. There was a see through plastic tarp underneath you and your form was laying flat on the floor surrounded by cushions. His eyes trailed up your body as you were completely bare, save for your torso and privates.

There was some sort of concoction which covered your beautiful curvaceous parts. It looked like cake, judging by the way it crumbled and was only held together by a light blue coloured frosting. Jun-ho stepped closer and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his sockets as he saw 'Happy birthday Jun-ho' written on your stomach, sitting atop the cake mixture which seemed to be smeared on your body.

You were quite literally caked in cake as he tried to get his brain to catch up with the confusion. This was something he was not expecting and it certainly worked in your favour as he took in your smug expression.

"Surprise!"

"Y/N? What are you -? Aren't you supposed to be at work right now?"

You knew you had taken him by surprise as you rolled his eyes at his confused words.

"You don't like your surprise?"

"No! This is a wonderful and welcome surprise? I just … had the impression you were busy tonight."

Your eyes softened at the tone of insecurity laced in his voice. It was tricky for this plan to have worked as you watched the way he dropped to his knees beside you, his eyes constantly darting to the cake on your body.

"Busy on your birthday? No way in hell! That would be very cruel of me and it's an important day."

Your words had gotten to him as you watched the way his cheeks flushed red before his hand rested on top of your knee.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. Happy birthday, baby!"

Jun-ho happily grinned as he bent down slightly to peck at your lips before letting his eyes linger at your body. You could tell he was eager to explore what you had presented to him as he lowly whispered.

"So, is this my birthday cake?"

You bit at your lower lip and shook your head in agreement, your heart swelled at the way his smile grew bigger. You knew he would be particularly excited by this gift as his finger was about to go towards your cake covered torso.

"Mind if I have a taste?"

"No, Jun-ho! First we have to blow out the candles and sing happy birthday!"

"Of course we must," He grinned as he tried to shake out of his jacket, his fingers curling around the hem of his coffee stained shirt. Almost teasing you by the way his head tilted to the right. "How would you like me to get ready?"

"I mean, it's no birthday without a birthday suit…"

With a firm nod, his torso puffed out slightly as he dragged the cloth over his firm muscular body. You could never tire from seeing him shirtless as he stood before you like a lion ready to devour you. You lucked out on Jun-ho as he quickly tossed his shoes and socks to the side. Before then slowly unbuttoning his jeans, tantalisingly pushing them over his thick thighs and sculpted calves.

You held a breath as you took in his semi-nude lean form, restraining yourself from leaping onto his body, as you willed yourself to let him take what he wanted from you. Today was Jun-ho's day, even though the present was more for the two of you to enjoy, you shook your head to brush your hair away from your collarbone, presenting yourself as a gift to your boyfriend.

"So where's the candles?"

You leaned back to gesture at the coffee table beside you, a few blue coloured single candles and a box of matches were on top as your boyfriend swiped at them and put the candles in the place of their holders which were already on the cake on your body. A quick light and ten candles were lit as yours and Jun-ho's eyes softly connected.

There was no doubt that Jun-ho was mesmerized by your tender loving gestures, he was almost thanking you with his eyes as you took to singing 'happy birthday!' in a soft voice. He's never had a birthday like this before and after this moment, he certainly doesn't want to let you go ever. It was clear to him that you meant a great deal as you finished off.

"Happy birthday to you! Come on Baby, blow your candles out."

How could he refuse you anything ever? Going by the soft unconditional expression in your eyes and lips, he tried to forge this facial expression in his mind forever. He parted your legs slightly so he could lean in between them to blow at the candles on your body, no doubt enticing you with a good time. The candles went out from the gentle blow of his breath and now came the fun 

Discarding the candle and it's holders, your boyfriend took his time to thoroughly examine your body. Making a step by step plan on which parts of your body he wanted to feast on but you were in charge of this surprise, thus he didn't want to throw off your plans.

"Now can we have some cake?"

Who were you to refuse his sweet request as you nibbled at your bottom lip, a small nod and with a soft purr.

"Of course, Baby!"

You inhaled deeply as you watched the way his brown eyes flashed black with lust, his tongue peeked out from his lips as he rested his hands on your knees. This birthday present was going to unleash a feral side to your boyfriend which you were more than willing to pay the price for. You loved him deeply but you saw the truth to him in the intimate lights. He was vulnerable and trusting that you couldn't hold back a smile for him.

Jun-ho leaned down and bit into a small chunk of cake, catching a little bit of the frosting which was melting from your body heat. It was light and fluffy with the creamiest vanilla buttercream. The cake itself had strawberry essence infused inside and his eyes rolled back at the explosion of the marriage of flavours. Of course you would make his favourite cake flavour, as he audibly groaned and let his head roll back, over dramatically emphasising his appreciation.

The cake was made really well and paired with the faint taste of you, it was a perfect slice of heaven. He knew that the way he would react would rile you up, uncontrollably. As he swallowed, his head straightened back to watch the way your face melted into a lax lusty spell. He had you in his clutches now as he hummed at the flavour of the cake.

"That is a really good cake. Do you want some, my Darling?"

You gave another nod but Jun-ho had a tease of a smirk on his face. His fingers went down to scoop a bit of cake into his mouth, chewing and swallowing the sweet concoction. A tone of mischief was laced in his voice as he requested you.

"I want to hear you, my Darling."

"Please, birthday boy … feed me some cake?"

His cock twitched at the way you gave him a new nickname, his eyes glimmered as he leant down to where your breast would be. Your eyes locking intensely with his, he opened his jaw and lifted some cake into his mouth, prowling over you with his mouth full of cake.

It's an unusual way to eat cake but you wouldn't refuse such a gentle offer as you poked your tongue into his mouth to take the cake in and chew it. You did an amazing job with baking the cake as a pleasant buzz left your lips, your taste buds vibrated against the succulent dessert as your eyes dropped to another tasty delicacy. His lips.

They were plump and pink with the slightest bit of blue buttercream hanging on the corner of his lip, seducing you to come closer. You couldn't let Jun-ho be messy on his birthday, you swallowed your cake piece and brought your head close to where your breath hit his cheekbone. The flat of your tongue curled and licked at the blue buttercream, letting it melt against the roof of your mouth. The two of you were playing with fire as the warmth of your breaths lingered and danced together.

You wanted to prolong the teasing as you brought your fingers to pinch at some cake, bringing it up to his bottom lip as a way for him to eat some more cake. His long fingers enclosed over your wrist as his teeth grazed the length of your fingers to consume the sweet dessert you were offering. His eyes were staring dead straight into yours as warm saliva started to coat the pad of your digit, licking at the residual crumbs stuck on.

Jun-ho was going above and beyond to see you break and have his way with him, or the other way around. Soft grunts left his lips as he suckled at your fingers, his eyes fluttered closed and his fringe drooped in front of his eyes. You couldn’t hold it anymore as you snatched your index and middle away to squeeze at his jaw, lifting his head to your face as a flame danced around your eyes. This took your boyfriend by surprise and his cock twitched at the power you were trying to hold over him.

Your voice dropped to a slightly low octave as you raised yourself to your knees. “You’re meant to be enjoying your cake, Birthday boy! I worked so hard to bake this for you.”

He was in for a wild night as a gentle whine left from deep in his esophagus. “I’m sorry Baby … I wanted a taste of you as well.”

The way you cooed at him, had goosebumps erupting on his arms. “Aw! Birthday boy wanted a taste of me? You should have asked. Lay down.”

Your loving boyfriend over eagerly obeyed your command, a wide grin plastered on his face as he watched you wipe off the cake onto the plastic sheet underneath you. Streaks of blue buttercream and crumbs of cake were stuck smeared on your body and it was looking reminiscent of a highly provocative image in Jun-ho’s mind. Your supple thick thighs straddled his stomach, sliding up to hover at his chest.

Once again, you were being tentative about your weight as he felt your thighs tense and unclench with nerves, a ghost of a frown lingered on your lips. Jun-ho rubbed his hand across the top of your thighs to help you relax, ready to stop your love making to comfort you and you knew that any signs of hesitation would mean an end to your gift to him. You brought your palm to cup Jun-ho’s cheek, you croak a nervous whisper to him.

 “Are you sure you want me to …” You make a gesture at his face which is enough implication for him to understand. He gives a firm nod with determination in his facial expression.

“More than anything. I want to taste everything on you.”

Your cheeks flushed hot with warmth as you brought your core to hover over his mouth, it was one of his favourite sights to explore and map. Your labia was spongey and dripping with arousal whereas your clitoris was engorged, ready to be devoured, your vagina clenched and pushed out a bit of cum from your slit. His hot breath tingled at the bottom of your lips as he murmured with mesmiration.

“God, you’re beautiful! And mine.”

His hands anchored themselves to your love handles, tugging at you to press your weight onto his face as his lips connected to your lower lips, a soft peck before his tongue swiped up and down to slurp at the wetness in between your thighs. A faint taste of the cake he had earlier mingled with the mild taste of you and he groaned rather loudly at the marriage of flavours. Your jaw was agape at the way Jun-ho was lapping at your vulva.

Your thighs tensed around his head as you gave Jun-ho full control over your body, your sticky hand stroked across your boyfriend’s scalp before clutching his dark short cut hair, the other hand rested on the floor as a way to hold yourself. The way your body arched in the dim yellow light, a faint sight of sweat glistened near your neck as your nipples were erect from the cool air. It made Jun-ho’s cock strain against his tight black boxers as he pressed to praise you.

“You might have my favourite flavour of cake but my favourite flavour will always be the sweetness dripping in between your legs.”

His tongue circled and flicked at your clitoris, a trigger that made you thrust and grind your core against his face. He continued to entice you as he brought a finger round to pinch at the erogenous nub. You jutted your hips harder against his face as you drowsily mumbled.

“Birthday boy! Please?”

“Please what?”

“I … want to come.”

“Go ahead Darling, I’m not stopping you. You’re my good girl.”

With his permission, you let out a silent shudder and shiver as your vagina clenched at the ministrations being done. He wasn’t done yet and you knew you were in for another ride, Jun-ho could die a happy man with his face between your thighs. ‘His favourite flavour’ as the two of you shared a tender connection. He moved his mouth away slightly to coo sweet words.

“You’ve done so well for me. My good girl. Can you do one more?”

You give a firm rigorous nod which permitted your boyfriend to once again attack your sopping genitals. His sandpapery tongue glided across your labia before circling around your slit, The way he grunted and moaned sent vibrations up your spine as he relentlessly tried to engulf himself into your cunt. He pursed his lips around your clitoris and gave a firm suck which had you roll your hips harder onto his face.

Jun-ho could spend the entire night licking and guzzling you but he knew you would want something else, thus he dragged his tongue to push through the tight walls of your opening. A quick flinch and sharp inhale left your lips as you watched the way his eyes were lulling at your essence. His nose grazed and pushed at your clitoris as his tongue began to slowly penetrate your vagina.

“You taste so good, my Darling. Drown me in your sweetness.”

Deep moans and whines were trickling out of your lips as you began to roll your vagina to meet with your boyfriend’s tongue thrusts. You desperately wanted him to sink his cock into you as you warned him about your impending orgasm.

“Jun-ho, I’m gonna - Jun-ho!”

Your body froze and stuttered as your vagina began to leak more onto your boyfriend’s jaw, your head rolled back as you cried out in unexpected pleasure. Jun-ho felt a numbing pain in his lower jaw but he ignored it to smile at your slightly debauched appearance. His lips were puffy and plump from your vagina and he decided now would be the time to say what should have been said a long time ago.

“You’re so beautiful. It’s why I love you.”

He could tell that you hadn’t fully registered his confession, too drunk off the pleasure he was giving you as a sweet gentle glow took hold of his face. You could feel Jun-ho shift your body down so you could finally be eye level with him, he sat up with you on his lap and your legs went around his waist. His large palms rested atop your upper back to stop you from falling back, although there were pillows around you and he could lay you down.

Jun-ho wanted to express his love in this intimate light, he wanted to show you his vulnerability and intimacy as one hand cupped your chin to let your lips hover next to each other. He spoke louder this time to help you hear his words better.

“I love everything about you and it’s an infinite list. You take such good care of me, listening and helping me to be a better person. I love the way you smell, taste and sound. When you’re like this or talking and chatting to me about your day. I love you, (Y/N).”

You gave it a moment, letting his words sink deep into your skin as your vision zeroed on his form. You knew deeply that he was the only one worth spending life with and the fact that he echoed your sentiments made your love grow exponentially deeper. Jun-ho simply admired the way your lax face hummed and curled with love. Your lips brushed along to Jun-ho’s ear as you hoarsely responded.

“I love you too Jun-ho. You’re the only one worth living for.”

At this moment in time, the two of you could feel your heartbeats synchronising into one synonymous rhythm, your breaths tickled as the two of you gazed deeply into each other's eyes. The raw confession heating the temperature between your bodies as the buttercream was slowly being melted by the closeness of your chests. Without wanting to wait any longer, Jun-ho fervently pressed his lips onto yours, your groans reverberating as your eyes fluttered closed.

There’s the old cliche of fireworks being exploded when a kiss happens, but this kiss was unlike any other kiss you’ve experienced with Jun-ho. This was full of love, trust and unconditionality that your bodies were slowly melting as one. His face was in your sights; you could only feel his skin; hear his gentle grunts and moans; smell his muted musk and taste cake and yourself from his mouth.

Yours and Jun-ho’s lips molded like clay as his tongue began to mingle and fight with your own. His broad hands dragged down to your waist to force your core to shift onto his clothed erection. A soft gasp left your lips as his hardness pressed against your sensitive vagina, he began to guide you into smooth movements as your hips began to grind on each other. You were starting to soak his boxers as the two of you continued to make out.

One of yours wrapped around the nape of his neck, whilst your blunt nails dug into the side of his neck. Your other hand dropped down to grab a handful of cake to smear at the inner crook of his neck, instantly knowing where he was most sensitive. You reluctantly pulled your lips away to press a trail of kisses across his jaw, Adam's apple and then to the base of his jugular where your lips enclosed over the cake.

You sucked and nipped at his neck as his head rolled back and hips bucked harder. The mood heated up further as the slow music in the background was overshadowed by your uncontrollable sexual sounds of pleasure. Jun-ho blindly reached for the cake, swiping it all over your chest before bending down to clean at your chest. His tongue ingested the painted streaks of buttercream before his teeth pinched at your nipple.

A rather loud mixture of a whine and a moan erupted from your lips as you cupped Jun-ho’s chin to look directly into your eyes, the tone was hoarse and scratchy.

“Please birthday boy! I need you.”

Jun-ho agreed to your demand and raised you up slightly to tug his boxers down his waist, tugging it off as it pooled by his ankles. His erection was close to a bright red with a small drip of precum going down the length of his dick. You licked at your cakey hand, bringing it down to angle his dick at the entrance of your slit. You slowly slid down to let him be accommodated into your tight walls.

His eyes watered slightly as his thumb rested on your bottom lip, an innocent gesture as he whispered. “I love you so much!”

“I love you too, Jun-ho.”

The two of you bounced as his fingers clawed into your waist, his mouth spewing praises all around.

“I love you! You’re so tight and gorgeous! I’m glad you’re all mine.”

The only thing you could do was agree to his words as you thrusted your hips against his, the angle was pressing against your g-spot and you could feel your orgasm approaching quicker than normal. You tightened your core around his dick, he stuttered and choked, increasing the depth of his thrusts until you felt a gush of his ejaculate swell inside you. His thumb went down to circle at your clitoris to trigger your orgasm.

“Come on, Darling! I need you to cum now. Cum!”

“Fuck! Yes!”

A few quick strokes at your clitoris caused a rumbling moan to leave your lips as you screeched your boyfriend’s name. No doubt, letting your neighbours around you know who you belong to. The pitch of your voice was a mixture of highs and lows as your thrusts slowed to a stop. A mixture of sweat mixed with the buttercream on your bodies, Jun-ho’s forehead rested against your shoulder as your nose pressed into his sweaty sticky hair.

The birthday cake was a mush around your heaving bodies, as you could feel his cum drip down the curve of your butt. It was a light atmosphere as Jun-ho lifted his head to gaze lazily into your eyes. It felt like a weight of confusion lifted off both of your shoulders as you felt satiated with tonight’s events, Jun-ho celebrated his birthday whilst also reaffirming his feelings and stance of the relationship with you.

Your hands rested against his cheeks, you leant down for a brief peck before once again repeating your new favourite confession. “I love you, birthday boy.”

“I can never tire from saying and hearing it. I love you too. And thank you, for my birthday surprise.”

Jun-ho tried to lift the two of you up so you could clean up in the bathroom but found that his legs were numb and shaky from your intense love making. A huffed breath left his lips as he grinned at you. “You … literally made my legs numb.”

A twinkling laugh left your lips that made your boyfriend’s heart swell with pride. “I’m glad my birthday present could do that. We can just lay here and wait for our legs to recover.”

You arched forward to bring a pillow closer so your boyfriend could lay down and pull you on top of him. You hadn’t realised it but there was now a niggling ache around your knees and Jun-ho’s butt as you brought your hands to massage at your knee. It wasn’t the best idea to have sex on the hard floor of your living room. You had a lot to fix for next time. He still couldn’t understand how you orchestrated this entire thing, his hands drawing random shapes at the back of your shoulder as he glanced down to inquire.

“How did you even manage to pull this off?”

“Well I had some help for today. I had to wait for you to leave before me and my friends set to work to bake the cakes. They helped put the cake on my body. Don’t worry they were all girls. I also asked your mom to distract you and your Captain to send you home by lunchtime.”

Everyone was in on it as his facial expressions scrunched up into a slightly unamused face. If his mother and captain were in on the surprise then that meant, they knew - an uncomfortable shudder went down his spine as you laughed at his calculating thoughts.

“Don’t worry, birthday boy! Your mother and the captain don’t know what we did. They think we had a birthday lunch, that's all.”

“More like a birthday dessert.”

You rolled your eyes as you had another bite at the cake you made. Appreciating the way it was made as the two of you relaxed in a blissful silence. Jun-ho listed this as his best birthday ever and he had a long way to go to exceed the expectations with your birthday coming. Cleaning up would come later after you rested in each other’s arms, basking in the after glow of your intimate sex.

[nymphastoriasblog]

DATING MODERN!MICHAEL CORLEONE 🎞✨

perfect. my first crush. perfect. childhood crush. perfect.

warnings: a little bit of smut and my english.

nymphastoria’s masterlist

buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️

first of all, he’s old fashioned

you’d probably met him at college and he would be really shy and quiet at first

but after a while he’d open up to you and would ask you to a dinner

he’s the type of guy who brings roses to the first date

he is a true gentleman

opening doors to you, pushing the chair, bringing your hands to his arms while walking

he’s so smart 🤧

you guys would stay up all night having random conversations

DARK ACADEMIA ENERGY ALWAYS

why is he always wearing suit? we dont know, but we dont complain neither

sometimes he will just pass by a bookstore and buy you a book that he thinks you’d like

on special dates, like your dating anniversary or your birthday, he would plan a whole day to you

would plan a dinner on the fanciest restaraunt ever

buys you a bouquet of peonies or roses

and a chocolate box (if it’s valentines day)

would also buy you a nice dress for the night (and a lingerie)

and during the dinner will give you a expensive jewelry to make you happy

but he knows that jewelry and such arent the only thing you like

so after the dinner he would randomly take you to the cinema or if you’re too tired, take you to a park for a little walk before going home to just have fun

he’s also the type of guy to buy you new shoes if yours are hurting your feet

he treats you like a princess

so modern!michael would be on gen z, thats obvious

i think he’s not really into social medias

his only photo on instagram is a family picture of connie’s wedding

he doesnt update his facebook since 2012

he is always typing correctly, putting “.” and “,” in everything and doesnt use emojis

he always answer you as he can, but always leave sonny on seen 💀

sometimes connie calls him randomly when she’s having an argument with her husband and for this reason he blocked her for two days

michael’s roll camera are full of your pictures, family pictures and his trip to Corleone

i think that michael would love to watch The Deads Poet Society for no reason, i just think so

sometimes you will just call him to have a nice time together and he will show up with a bottle of wine and two glasses

if you work while on college, he will randomly show up at your work to see you

and he always brings you a little treat, such as a chocolate bar or a cigarette, if you smoke

it would take him about three months of dating to have sex with you

theres nothing wrong with you, its because he is old fashioned and at first he wanted to wait until get married to you

but the boy couldnt resist to you and you changed his mind

he still wants to get married to you

100% breeding kink

he moans in italian because he knows you like it

he calls you “amore”

he’s touch starving and you cant convice me otherwise

he loves to cuddle you at night after a long day

and loves the back massage you give him after his classes

HIS FAMILY ADORES YOU

sunday lunch with his family is your favorite hobby

always gossiping with his sister and his mother

sometimes gossiping with michael

michael is really in touch with fashion

and his favorite humour tv show is the office

michael wants to have a small family with you and live in a nice house with a huge backyard to your children play around

what turns him on is you wearing a tight silk dress, it almost kills him

✨P I C N I C S D A T E S✨

he’s my husband dream