#Sidewalk Meals of Tumblr

[ffeatherisffeather]

[somewheredownthesidewalk]

December 31, 2023

Albuquerque, New Mexico

[ellecdc]

Heyyy! I’m usually a silent tumblr warrior but omg I keep coming up with so many different Au’s in my head. 🙈 Also I love your writing it’s godsent. 😏

Tonight I was thinking of Model!Reader x photographer!Remus 😖💔. Who are like totally obsessed with each other and are always supporting their careers. Remmy getting sooo many candid photos of reader and using them in his portfolio. Along with them both going to each others viewings/ runway shows. I just can’t omg so many possibilities ..🥲

~🪼

this is so. stinking. cute. the second I received this I had to send it to @maladaptiveescapism (my muggle AU queen who gifted us all the beautiful, beautiful man that is chef!sirius) and she came up with the SWEETEST meet cute. thank you for sharing this prompt, lovie!! I hope I did it justice <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who ends up being Remus' big break [2.6k words]

CW: fluff, swearing, reader has a dog and he's adorable, meet cute, fame

Remus needn’t look in a mirror (or one of the windows of the shops on the street) to know that his nose was pink; he had always been very sensitive to the cold, and it was only exacerbated by his love for it.

It was his favourite time of year; waking up in the morning when the ground was still covered in shimmery frost before turning into a misty fog as the sun poked its way through trees and buildings. The trees and grass were still grasping desperately at the shades of greens that it usually wore, but the leaves - determined in their journey - insisted on turning various shades of oranges, yellows, reds, and browns.

Remus loved them. 

He also found that people were perhaps their most beautiful when cold - he hardly ever left for his morning walks without his camera, which also meant he left for his morning walks without a pair of mittens or gloves which might impede his ability to control the lens and shutter - and there was something about the cool air that brought out the most beautiful colours in not only the trees, but also of the people. 

And Remus yearned to capture it.

He’d found a beautiful elderly man enjoying a mocha outside a small coffee shop who he chatted with for a while before he asked him if he’d be okay to take some pictures. Every crinkle near the corners of his eyes was evidence of laughter and joy, every wrinkle between his brow a testament to years of consideration and thought, every divot around his mouth was a story he shared, a kiss he gave, a meal he enjoyed. 

Every deep line on the man’s face - Albus had been his name - told a story, and Remus was lucky enough to have captured even a fraction of it with his camera. 

Remus’ fingers were struggling to thaw out in his pockets as he took the long way home - traversing through the quiet park in the centre of the city which was slowly becoming more lively as the morning wore on and the sun rose higher, though it was still quiet enough for Remus to enjoy. 

Some days he had more luck than others, not because there was a lack of beautiful people - because there was surely no shortage of that - but rather nothing that inspired Remus to create. 

Some days it frustrated him, and some days he was able to remind himself he was really doing this for fun and not being paid for his portraits save what small income he made through creator perks on various social media platforms. 

How nice it would be to get paid for his portraits, though. 

Remus had paused in his walk to bend over and pick up a disposable coffee cup from the sidewalk to put it in a rubbish bin when he spotted the perfect picture. 

There was a wrought-iron and wooden slat park bench a few paces away from the footpath in the park sitting in a lone ray of sun that managed to force its way through the treetops as if some deity had placed a spotlight on it to ensure Remus would notice it.

The patch of grass that the sun was kissing was melting into its usual green whilst the grass surrounding it was still its unique combination of dark sage, green, and silver courtesy of the autumn twilight.

A senior looking dog - a border collie, if Remus guessed correctly - attached to a simple red lead seemed to have found himself a good stick for chewing as he basked in the sun, the lead looped gently around the wrist of his person who sat on the bench with a ratty looking paperback in their hand. 

You were ethereal. 

You had one hand shoved into a knitted mitten whilst the other held your book, though a second mitten sat ready should you no doubt decide your free hand was too cold and needed to switch. You had multiple layers on and a comfy pair of shoes. Clearly out for a walk yet knowing that your dog did less walking now-a-days and spent more time in sunny spots with a nice stick, you came prepared with a novel to enjoy the transitionary season much the same way Remus did. 

And you were stunning.

You looked like a sip of warm apple cider, like the trees had parted their branches just to give the sun somewhere to direct its warmth and light, like the sun came out only for the chance of seeing you.

Remus actually took a look around him to see if anyone else was seeing what he was - nothing short of a masterpiece - but the masses appeared wholly unaware that they were in the presence of something hallowed. 

He lost his nerve more times than he could count as he tried to convince his boots to take him in your direction, to start up the conversation the same way he always did with every other stranger he stopped on the street to take their picture. But this felt different, you were different, you-

…were looking over at him; your dog ceasing to chew on his stick in favour of staring intently at Remus alerting you to the fact that you had an admirer (at best, or a stalker at worst).

To avoid looking like the latter, Remus forced his feet to bring him to you, smiling at you as you marked your place in your book and closed it before offering him a wary smile of your own. 

“Pardon me, I’m terribly sorry to intrude, but, erm, well-” sodding son of a bitch, stick to the script, “my name is Remus and I’m a street photographer, I uhm, I take portraits of people I pass on the street and post them to my socials.” He offered awkwardly as he pulled out his phone - numb fingers nearly dropping it as he raced to try to prove to you he wasn’t some creep with a long-distance lens on his camera hanging around public parks - wincing as the end of his sentence lilted up in the form of a question. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you and your dog, here,” he pushed on, said dog still watching him carefully and tilting his head at the end of every one of his sentences, “and you look beautiful- or, rather, it makes a beautiful picture! I, well, I guess I was wondering if you’d mind if…I took your picture?”

And by some absolute twist of fate, you had the good graces to simply smile at him like he wasn’t some awkward bumbling fool which only served to make you even more beautiful as you handed him his phone back.

“That’s really cool, Remus,” you offered, sounding as though you were testing how his name felt forming from your lips as you made eye contact with him, “thank you. I’d be happy to be your model.”

“Brilliant.” Remus let out with a breath of relief. “Now are you and…” he paused as he gestured toward your companion. 

“Ziggy.”

“...Ziggy a package deal or should I ask him his rates?” 

You let out a bubbly laugh which encouraged Ziggy to sit up - albeit slowly due to his age - and cock his head at you. 

“What do you say, Ziggs?” You asked the canine who cocked its head the other way. “Do you want to model too?” 

As if the dog knew you were waiting for a response, he let out a polite bark before laying back down. 

“Well there you have it, Remus; we’re all yours.” 

The picture returned to its previous perfection; between you returning to your novel sans one mitten and Ziggy’s focus back to his treasure, Remus was able to capture you exactly how he wanted. You were wearing a soft smile which only grew when Remus nearly bumped into a jogger in an attempt to get a different angle. 

You held your book to your mouth to hide your laughing as he called a hasty apology to the girl who barely slowed down on his account, and he shot a cute picture of you like that, too; your eyes full of mirth and crinkling at the corners in a quiet laugh at his expense. 

Remus was infatuated. 

It felt blasphemous in some way, but Remus had to admit he was very chuffed to have an excuse to join you on your alter bench, pretending as though you leaning into him - for warmth or for a better view of his camera screen, he wasn’t sure - didn’t make him feel like his heart was trying to exit out of his throat as you sung your praises for the pictures. 

“Remus.” You hissed as if you really couldn’t believe your eyes. “These are really good! Oh my god…”

Remus chuckled awkwardly as you brought the camera closer to you, ultimately forcing Remus to breathe your air as the camera strap pulled his body closer to yours. 

“You’re very talented.” You added earnestly  before looking up at him with something akin to awe. “Do you have a portfolio?”

“Erm, well,” he mumbled, suddenly very aware that he was nearly on top of a relative stranger in this public park at about 8:30 in the morning, “I…sort of? I mean, I have my socials.”

You nodded at him and looked back down at his camera before passing it back to him. “Are you going to post these?” 

“I’d very much like to, if you’re okay with that?” 

“Please do.” You agreed readily. “Do you tag people in your portraits?”

Remus nearly snickered as he thought of Albus this morning who seemed completely perplexed by the phone in Remus’ hand let alone by the concept of social media. “Sometimes; not everyone I photograph is online. Would you like to be tagged?”

“Yes please.” You beamed at him; Remus’ fingers itched to lift his camera back up to capture you like this, too. Fuck, you were beautiful. “My mum’s always saying she doesn’t have nearly enough pictures of me.”

“Well we can’t have that.” Remus chuckled as he pulled out his phone and opened the notes app so you could add your Instagram handle. 

“It was very nice meeting you, Remus.” You offered, and Remus felt something close to shock at how truly sincere you sounded. “You should be charging people for that.” You added, gesturing to the camera hanging from his neck. 

“I could always start now.” He offered in jest, and he was rewarded again by your bubbling laugh; Remus felt nearly torn at having to leave, every shift of your face and expression begging to be photographed, and every muscle in his body begging to do the photographing. 

But when he offered you a smile and a slightly awkward wave as he walked away  - the sound of your laugh still  echoing in his mind - he wondered if maybe, in some universe out there, there was a version of him that got to commit every expression that crossed your face - to memory or film, either would suffice. 

𓆱𓇢𓆸𓆱𓇣𓆱𓇢𓆸𓆱𓇣𓆱

The following day, Remus couldn’t escape the office meeting quick enough; his phone buzzing incessantly the last twenty five minutes of the forty five minute planning session - that he was supposed to be taking dutiful notes throughout - burning a hole through his trouser pocket and into the muscle of his thigh. 

35 missed calls from Sirius.

12 missed calls from James

Sirius: answer the fucking phone, you sod!!

Sirius: when the fuck did you take these!?!? (4 attachments)

Sirius: Lupin I STG

James: Lily is freaking out!!! Did you get an autograph??

James: who am I kidding. You had no idea, did you?

“What the fuck…” Remus murmured under his breath as he scrolled through the notifications on his lock screen, blushing something fierce when a coworker brushed past him reminding him he was supposed to be being professional which generally meant not swearing. 

The second Remus stepped onto the pavement outside of his building, his phone started ringing again. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He answered instead of saying ‘hello, Sirius; alright?’. 

“What the fuck is going on!?” Sirius barked back. “How about you tell me when the fuck you met Y/N L/N!?” 

Remus felt his eyebrows cinch as he pulled his phone from his face when another text came in. 

Lily: I’m so fucking jealous right now!

Lily: also, I should probably say congrats; I’m sure this is going to be great for your career!

“Remus!”

“Christ, Sirius, I’m here.” Remus muttered as he brought the phone back to his ear. “But I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Sirius muttered on the other end of the line. “The pictures you posted yesterday!”

“Of the man? Or-”

“The bird! Remus! Y/N L/N!”

Remus suddenly realised why the name sounded familiar; it had been your instagram handle.

“Oh! Do you know her?”

“Do I know her? Mate, she’s fucking famous.”

“What?”

“She’s a sodding model! She’s been in Sports Illustrated, walked in New York Fashion Week and Paris Fashion Week, she was in a music video recently; fuck who was the artist…”

“Wha- what the fuck? How did I not know this?” Remus asked dumbly. 

“God, you’re thick. Did you not notice the fucking blue checkmark next to her name on instagram when you tagged her?” 

Remus was so glad Sirius couldn’t see him right now; he always felt properly chastised when it was Sirius handing his ass to him, but this felt bigger somehow. 

“Well… I don’t know, I’m verified too but that doesn’t mean anyone knows me!” He argued half-heartedly; he really hadn’t noticed…

Sirius snorted. “Yeah well, everyone’s gonna know you now, mate.”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked sternly.

“I mean” Sirius started theatrically “that she’s shared your original post to her story and posted your pictures to her page and tagged you as the photographer. She only posted it two hours ago and it already has almost 70,000 likes. Have you not looked at instagram?”

“Sirius, I work in a fucking corporate office, I can’t be on my phone all of the time.” He spat rather petulantly. 

“Bully for you.” Sirius muttered in response. “Check now then.”

Remus stole himself as he closed the call screen that simply consisted of a terrible picture of Sirius before opening up instagram. 

The notification tab simply read 100+, but when he moved to view his profile he realised he had gained nearly 10,000 followers just since leaving for work this morning. 

“Jesus…” Remus breathed out slowly. 

“You might want to put a portfolio together, mate.” Sirius offered, tone still slightly teasing, though the edges were softer and Sirius’ pride was nearly palpable even through the phone. “This might finally be your big break.”

All because Remus had noticed you - a beautiful girl - in the park with a book and a dog sitting in a lone ray of sun that managed to force its way through the treetops… as if some deity placed a spotlight on it to ensure Remus would notice. 

And of course he noticed you; how could he not?

I'd be happy to be your model. Do you have a portfolio? You should be charging people for that.

This might finally be your big break. 

Little did either of you know that you would end up being Remus’ big break.

[urlittlevenicebitchh]

𝟏𝟓𝟎 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

go for a walk

take a nap

go to a pet store

play just dance

look at grosspo

find a new aesthetic

design your dream wardrobe

read

make a list of movies/tv shows/books you want to watch/read

color

write a short story

make a vision board

journal

make spotify playlists

write a letter to your future self

go to the gym

draw your dream body

have a photoshoot

explore somewhere new

join discord/insta/tumblr groups

writeaprisoner.com

learn a language on duolingo

make a new social media account

find new makeup + hairstyles to practice

watch a childhood movie

declutter your phone

online quizes

at-home spa day

make a time capsule

play roblox or minecraft

make a photo wall

start a manifestation journal

test old pens and markers

rearrange furniture in your room

unsubscribe from emails

make a birthday/holiday wishlist

upcycle old clothes

make a bucket list

clean your car or room

declutter bags

find a new podcast to listen to

update your resume

apply to jobs

paint or draw

practice gratitude

yoga

start a bullet journal

create a 5 year plan

start a free course

discover new music

work on your insta feed

sell clothes online

start a blog

organize a drawer

clean your makeup brushes

learn a new skill

start a youtube channel or podcast

call a family member

build a puzzle

plan your week

paint your nails

learn a new dance

laundry

write a letter to a friend

find a pen pal

write 3 short-term goals

work on current goals

plan your next vacation

explore your neighborhood

do a face mask

organize your closet

find new blogs to follow

do a hair mask

do mirror work

take a shower or bath

pinterest crafts

watch youtube

tan

dust your room

tye dye clothes

facetime friends

make a comfy fort

invite a friend over

go to the mall

amusement park

homework!!

binge a movie/tv series

make slime

scrapbook

sidewalk chalk

have a tea party

make friendship bracelets

thrift

plant a flower

go through old magazines + make collages

hand massage

make your own face scrub

create a skincare routine

research something you've been meaning to learn more about

make popsicles

create a budget

drink water!!!

meal plan

sign up for volunteer work

watch a random documentary

follow new tags on tumblr/insta

hug your pet

organize stationary

watch a ted talk

clean mirrors in your house

reply to old texts

write your own list of things to do

make lists

visit a museum

go to the beach

sign up for a workout class

meditate

tidy your desk

make a warm drink

practice hand lettering

vaccum

5 minute doodles

follow a disney animation lesson (youtube)

watch animal videos

online crossword puzzles

origami

find live shows in your area

play board games

go for a drive

go through junk drawer

pick flowers

start a nature journal

do therapy worksheets from pinterest

make weekend plans

research your family tree

create your own game

make a fruit salad

print coloring worksheets

poetry

ride a bike

play a childhood game (mine's animal jam :) )

search for your spirit animal

paint rocks

random act of kindness

make a busy box

plan a yard sale

start/join a book club (can be virtual :) )

shop ikea online

make room decor

closet fashion show

[moonlit-escape]

. ☠︎︎.˖⚝๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢♱ Gene Mystreet headcanons !!

my third and final favourite mystreet character. he's so silly i need to beat his ass

5'7.4 (171.2cm)

hispanic

bisexual (it runs in the family. their mom is bi too)

the eyebags aren't just bc he's has a god awful sleep schedule, they're actually hereditary (dante covers his with cucumbers and a skincare routine)

only speaks in spanish when he's losing his shit (arguing, panicking, tripped and scraped his knee on the sidewalk)

god can that boy dance

honestly just really loves cats

he went through a rough patch in uni and it sort of gave him a major wake up call as to just how he was doing and what kind of person he was and wanted to be

he, zenix, and sasha went their separate ways during uni, but tried to keep mostly in touch until eventually coming back together as roomies

god he would have just. the Worst depression meals. bro eats macaroni cheese dust in a glass with milk like it's a fucking nesquik packet. takes apart oreos and eats all the cream off, then puts pieces of ham in between them like theyre goddamn lunchable crackers. makes mayonnaise and jello sandwiches. takis and sweet relish. sasha and zenix have to make sure they come home on time and cook something before he puts whatever fucking concoction he makes into his body.

but he's actually a pretty damn good cook (when he's Not in a depressive episode)

learned to read fairly quickly, so he would always read dante to sleep

HARD gifted kid burnout like my man crashed and burned at 16

but now he's just a silly little nerd

favourite ninja turtle is donatello (mainly bc his fav color is purple)

he likes anime a lot, honestly. especially from 1990 to 2000s

plays mihoyo games. his mains are, respectively; cyno (genshin), jing yuan (hsr), and anton (zenless). This is a meta joke.

piercings,,, pirericngs,,,,, yesssss ,.

typa guy to use kaomoji and cat emoticons and send you cat videos off of youtube

the only social media he has is tumblr and reddit his punkass doesnt fw any other

he'd probably get a tattoo. maybe for his sweet girl, Apple, the poor thing

wants another cat, but he wants to give sasha and zenix no other choice but to let him take one in, so he's up Praying a stray will find him and follow him home

*opens his wallet and an entire roll of dante's baby pictures fall out* "UHM- UH- FWUH- I WAS HOLDING THESE FOR MY MOM-" dante, travis, and aph tear up on the spot

carries an epipen on his person at all times in case of emergencies. it was something he did growing up with dante, just in case the kid had something with peanuts, and it just kinda followed him into adulthood

was never that mean to travis, since he was dante's best friend, but he was never careful around him either, so

him and garroth actually end up being great friends who just spend most of their conversations gushing about mutual interests (their baby brothers, cats, video games) or sassing each other off

no wait bc why would his taste in men absolutely be himbos. (or at least just very sweet, kind-hearted people)

he calls people by specific little terms of endearment, depending on the type of response. that doesnt make sense. let me elaborate.

uses "babe" or "honey" when someone is in distress or upset ("oh, honey,,")

uses "bucko" or "buddy" when someone mouths off at him ("oookay there, buddy." "alright then, bucko.")

you get it now

the type of friend that is Always ready to back you up on your bullshit. absolutely no hesitation

he really didn't have a crush on aph, he was just a Grade A Asshole who thought it was fun to fuck with people

because he was viciously jealous of people who were capable of being happy and having good lives

not that he had a particularly awful, hard life. sure, his family had their struggles, but they were getting by. yes, he has felt like there was something deeply wrong with him that has been present within himself since even before he was born that made most people avoid him like he was on a secret list. but it was fine

he just knew that he had a sick feeling in him, and the only way he'd feel anything else was if he was a mean little asshole

some nights, it did scare him. it frightened him how bitter his tongue always tasted

and all of the time, constantly, buried beneath the feelings of hate, he felt guilt. he felt so, so much guilt. but, his only coping mechanism for when he's feeling bad is to do more bad things, and pretend he's always in the right

and, eventually, he broke. he broke down hard. now, since he's seen that his first plan to get rid of this feeling of skin-deep sin has failed, he's decided to try the other way. to atone

[melodic-haze]

(🎀) HELLO. HI. THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT ASK. i come bearing The List™ since i’m still [very] determined to take rayne - the og simp anon - down, and their ask was definitely a cute try - adorable even, but i’ve come here to win your heart, haze. not to play simple children’s games, so, here are 50 concrete reasons as to why i should be your sole & only wife <3

(+ apparently there are ppl following along on this … very strange love saga? hope u guys consider rooting for my side - i’m very committed to my dear haze <3.)

1. i was ur first ever ask, but before that i kept on lurking on ur account since i was too shy to say anything but every time i opened tumblr i checked ur account first, because i genuinely thought your writing was just lovely but i couldn’t find the words to say it </3 i thought of you as beautiful before i had even come to understand you

2. i’d make homemade meals made just for you + i’d satisfy any and all of your cravings

3. i’m mixed filipino, japanese, AND italian, so that’s how yk the food i can cook is good 🤗

4. i’d buy you flowers whenever, just because <3

5. on every birthday & date anniversary i’d spoil you with any and all the gifts (both handmade and bought) you’d ever want just to make your day extra special

6. i’d bake sweet treats for you every week, along w/ cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner tailored to your likings. bc only the best for you, love 😓😓

7. i’ll write love poems dedicated to you so you’ll know what it is like to be loved by another writer who can see your the beauty of your own language the same way you show your love

8. i’ll take out on beach dates…bookstore dates…photobooth dates…movie dates….anywhere you’d want to go i’ll take you there

9. i’ll write a single love letter to you for each day we’re together and happily married and gift them all to you so you’ll never forget just how much deep my love is for you

10. i’d marry you with paper rings!!

11. my focus in writing / literature in general is poetry and i could write a thousand poems on the beauty of you, your soul, and how gorgeous of a person you already are <3

12. plus i’m the same age as u so…no worrying cases there HAHSHSSJ 😭😭

13. i play the harp + the violin - arguably 2 of the most romantic instruments out there

14. you’d never need to worry about losing a 50/50 again since i’ll fund ALL your gacha game pulls - any character you want you'll have

15. i’d accept that i’d always be #2 to robin, bc. let’s face it. it’s robin, it’s universally impossible to /not/ love her 🫶

16. not only would i be a built-in wife, since i’m [also] a writer, i can be your built-in beta for proofreading and editing advice too

17. i’d drive you anywhere you wanted - passenger princess ofc :) <3

18. you are my eternity, haze. all i’ve been thinking about for the weeks upon end was you. my universe. my other half. the soul of my life, in every way possible, i’d want to love you so intimately; tenderly, slowly, the type of love that feels like the feather-tip press of a kiss to your temple. i’d worship the ground you walked upon if it only meant that the life i would have with you wouldn’t just be a dream. you make this world brighter; something worth living in. i forgave the cruelty the world let run rampant, the day i cast my gaze on you

19. i’d make playlists for every moment we shared together

20. forehead kisses…<3

21. even through death, i would still love you. endlessly. until the end of this universe. the beauty of love will forever transcend the passage of time

22. i’d serenade you with a bridgerton-esque rendition on the violin of lover by taylor swift. or any love song in general, i’d play whatever you wanted as long as it meant i got to fall in love with your soul all over again

23. rain kisses!!! i’d take you out to the sidewalk and pull you into dancing with me under the sheen of the rain <3

24. i’d grow a garden full of your favorite flowers just for you, and on every anniversary i’d hand-pick a bouquet myself because you deserve to be loved the same way it is, to be known

25. i’d take you to late night drives on the beach and i’d just be content watching you in the glow of the sunset, as the waves lap all around us, and for a moment; it’d feel like time itself had stopped in the presence of your beauty.

26. i’d write hand-written notes to leave at your nightstand each morning with tiny gifts (chocolates, handmade jewelry etc)

27. i’d dedicate every love song to ever exist to you <3

28. i’d constantly give out ‘i love you’s’ & reassurance

29. i once believed that my love would forever be burning red, but now that i’ve met you, it’s golden. like the first searing hues of daylight 🙏

30. if you are what you love, then i would spend all of my life writing literature on you. you deserve to be loved gently. even if the divine frowned down on us for our love i’d gladly look back from hell if that meant i could see your face one last time

31. on each birthday of yours, i would write the same amount of poems the age you would be turning, and all of them would be about how i’ve loved you through the years

32. i hope to be able to love you one day and realize that my heart is filled with the idea of you that i’d want nothing more than to be able to call you mine

33. i’d carve our initials on the sand on the beach just so the soil of the earth and the beginnings of all the life that stood before us knew what exactly it meant, when you loved somebody to the point of creation

34. if you wanted to go anywhere in the world - especially abroad - i’d take you. you deserve nothing more than what your heart desires and i’d always make sure to see that your wishes will be fulfilled so you will never have to wonder what it is like to be kept waiting

35. we’d go on aquarium dates!!! 🫶🫶

36. i’d make sure to hold your hand in every life and in every universe

37. we’d spend lazy days in our house just cuddling & watching sitcoms for as long as we’d want!!

38. haze…it’s no use haze. haze, we've got to have it out. i have loved you ever since i have known you haze. i couldn't help it. and - and i tried to show you and you wouldn't let me which is fine but i must make you hear now. give me an answer because i cannot go on like this any longer. i’ve worked hard to please you, and I gave up billiards and everything you didn’t like, and waited and never complained for i hoped you’d love me, though I’m not half good enough — i can’t love anyone else! …if you loved me haze, i would be a perfect saint.

39. kisses all over your face!!! i’d want the entire world to know how much ily and i’d never be afraid to hide it

40. i’d learn everything you have ever loved or enjoyed; whatever it is that makes your heart burst with joy, and memorize it to utmost perfection just so you could have somebody else to understand how it is that you want to be loved

41. i’d build a house for you, brick by brick. any way you wanted or any way you wanted to build a life together, i’d make sure to see fit to it

42. daily coffee dates!!!

43. i’d want nothing more than to just /be/ with you. to exist just knowing you are here and that i am full of the love i hope to give, would be enough for me already.

44. haze….I LOVE YOU!!!! i will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. from the moment i first saw your writing appear on the sub arlecchino tag, i have loved you desperately. i cannot breathe when you are not near. i love you, haze. my heart calls your name. i burn for you.

45. we could match everything!! matching bracelets <3 matching rings <3 matching jewelry in general <33 and trust, it would all either be hand-crafted or the most expensive things you could ever want bc i only want the best for you darling

46. i’d always have the idea of you on my mind. i don’t think anything - not even the divine forces could keep me away from knowing how much i adore you

47. baking with you!! i’d teach you all of my favorite recipes and we could bake together :) we’d make heart shaped cookies and red velvet muffins

48. WE COULD ADOPT PETS TOGETHER!!! cat moms!!! or dogs!! or any animal in general!! i’d want nothing more in life than to just spend it with you <3

49. my first novel would be about you. i’d write countless - thousands - of poems for you, haze. i’d write a collection of all the love i harbor for you in any way conceivable. you are perfection personified - a living muse - it is you i want, haze. it is only you who i would always want.

50. lastly, i’d ALSO suck on your tits any time u wanted :)

so? what do you think? how’d i do, sweetheart? :) if you ever have an answer for me, i’ll be waiting for as long as you’ll have me <3

(btw just for…clarification pls do /not/ take this way too seriously 😭😭. i am just a very over the top (hopefully will be) eng lit major who js wants to win over ur heart <3.)

FIFTY FUCKING REASONS WHAT THR FUCK YOU ACTUALLY WROTE IT OUT I saw this a lot earlier than just now but I had to coordinate backing vox lines for my band's next gig

Anyway the way I genuinely JUMPED when I saw this LIKE FUCKING HELLO......IF ANYTHING THIS IS WHAT DEDICATION LOOKS LIKE GUYS TAKE NOTES oh babe I could KISS YOU

AND THE TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCES❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️I'M SORRY RAYNE.........

I find the lit and performance majors tend to be the ones who do this and take the entire mile which makes a lot of sense actually

In summary I am FLOORED I fear. And absolutely swooning oh my goodness 😩 AND THE AGE POINT HAHAHAHA THE MOST IMPORTANT THING OF THEM ALL 😭😭😭😭😭 IT TOOK ME OUT like how I'd let you take me out for dinner ;)))

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part twenty-seven: "The Grocery Run"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt offers to make you dinner. The pair of you take a trip to a grocery store to get what you need for the meal.

Or

Matt struggles with sensory overload. You also get the feeling there's more behind what he asks you, but you can’t quite seem to figure out what…

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: A little Matt hurt/comfort installment here! And also, later in this series there is a hurt/no comfort arc known as Big Angst (my AO3 readers got paragraphs of end notes of my ramblings about, but just a head's up, you begin to slowly see tension arise between Matt and Reader about a particular topic... As always, you can find the entire list of installments available on tumblr here. Enjoy!

“So, are you free tonight?” Matt asked, slipping his hand into yours as the door to the coffee shop closed behind the pair of you.

Burying your chin into your scarf, the cold November wind chilling you, you fell in step beside Matt on the sidewalk. His cane was tapping rhythmically in front of the pair of you as you helped him navigate the busy afternoon foot traffic of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Yes, I’m free tonight,” you told him, smiling a little into the knitted fabric of your scarf. You’d already spent most of this late Saturday morning and early afternoon together and you felt giddy at the thought of him still not getting enough of you yet. “Something you had in mind?”

His hand squeezed yours, the little gesture drawing a wider smile to your mouth. You lightly bumped your shoulder into his in return.

“I was considering cooking you dinner, if you’d like?” he suggested.

Your left hand flew up to your chest, just over your heart, as you gasped dramatically. Matt’s head turned towards you, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards under his dark lenses.

“Matthew Murdock,” you teased lightly, “are you trying to wine and dine me?”

“You caught me,” he joked back.

Laughing lightly, your gaze dropped back to the sidewalk before the pair of you. The smile was still on your lips as you leaned a little into his side, feeling a bit of his warmth radiate along your side through his winter jacket. You loved living in the city, but you’d begun to love it even more simply for the fact that you often walked everywhere and had an excuse to hold Matt’s hand when he was with you.

“I’d love that,” you told him. “But the issue is, you never have food in your apartment. Did you actually go grocery shopping for this?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “Honestly I just decided on it while we were having coffee so I still need to go pick up something to make.”

“Or…we could go now?” you offered, glancing at him beside you with a raised brow. “I can come with, if you’d like?”

His head tilted to the side, the smile slipping off of his face as he thought for a moment. As you approached the street corner, you turned the pair of you down another street, Matt following your lead as you took the pair of you closer to a grocery store that you knew was nearby. 

“I guess,” he answered slowly. “If you don’t mind? It’s just that…I tend to have a hard time at grocery stores. I hate them, really,” he admitted, a faint frown on his mouth. "If I don't have groceries delivered I usually go with Foggy."

“Is that why your fridge is always so bare?” you asked, half-joking.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, not exactly. You know I’m usually not at home,” he replied. "Either I order takeout or I don't eat."

"Or I force feed you when you stop by at night," you teased.

"Yes," he agreed, shooting you a grin that had your stomach flipping. "You do that quite often. You know,” he began, tone turning playful, “you might actually be the sole reason I haven't starved yet.”

Leaning over, you placed a gentle kiss to his jacket-clad shoulder. Your eyes caught the little upward curve of his lips in response to the gesture. When you turned your attention ahead of you, you saw the grocery store just halfway down the block.

“So why don’t you like grocery stores?” you asked him curiously. “Besides the fact that most of them around here lack braille signage.”

He glanced downward towards his feet as if he was embarrassed or uncomfortable before he spoke. “Too much noise and stimulation,” he muttered. “Lots of people. Lots of scents. It’s just…it’s all overwhelming. And you’re right, there’s nothing labeled in braille. It’s just not an enjoyable experience.”

You frowned, lowering your head to rest along his shoulder as the pair of you walked. "I figured about the braille but I guess I never really thought about how assaulted your senses must feel in a place filled with people and food," you mused. 

"Yeah, I'm not a fan," he murmured.

"We don't have to make dinner," you said. "Or I can grab everything myself so you don't have to go?"

He leaned over, kissing the top of your head. You smiled contentedly, eyes briefly closing as his warm lips lingered against you. Fuck, you loved this man.

"I'll be okay," he whispered into your hair. "I've got you with me."

You laughed lightly, head still resting along his shoulder as you both neared the store. "You say that like I have some sort of super power," you joked. "Pretty sure that's just you, Matty."

"Actually," Matt quickly countered enthusiastically, "you do. It's right here."

You watched as he paused mid-step, raising the hand holding his cane and tapping a finger lightly over your winter coat, just over your heart. Immediately one of your brows rose curiously onto your forehead as you glanced down at his finger.

"I'm not following," you admitted. 

He laughed, returning his cane to the sidewalk as you both approached the grocery store. "Your heartbeat," Matt explained. "It's calming, in its own way. Oftentimes it's racing or a little uneven, but I like how it sounds. It's unique, more than most heartbeats, so it's easy to zero in on." 

He cleared his throat and your head shifted along his shoulder, glancing up at him. Your eyes narrowed as you swore you saw pink tinge his cheeks. 

"I uh, I usually focus on it whenever I get overwhelmed," he admitted softly. "Even before Marci and Foggy's wedding."

Your heart gave a little stuttering beat at that admission. Beside you, Matt chuckled, his hand squeezing yours.

"Like I said," he began, "oftentimes it's racing or a little uneven, especially when it comes to me."

Feeling a faint blush creep along your face at the new knowledge that Matt had been paying that close of attention to your heart for far longer than you’d realized, you drew the pair of you to a stop in front of the store. Removing your head from his shoulder, you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and bit your lip.

“You still have a way of making me nervous,” you muttered under your breath. “But uh, we’re here.”

Reaching a hand out, you held the door to the store open for Matt. Your eyes quickly noticed the way his entire body seemed to tense, completely going rigid. A slight frown slipped onto your mouth at the sight as you watched him step into the store. You desperately wished there was something you could do to make this less of a difficult experience for him. 

“Cart or basket?” you asked, trying to keep your voice low as you stepped in beside him.

“Basket is fine,” he answered, posture rigid. “Don’t particularly plan to be here long enough to fill a cart.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you grabbed a basket from the stack near you. As your focus returned to Matt, you saw him folding up his cane. One of your brows rose curiously as you watched him.

“You mind if I just hold onto your arm?” he asked.

Shaking your head, you answered, “Not at all. You want me to put your cane in the basket?”

He shot you a strained smile, nodding quickly. “If you could, thanks,” he replied.

You grabbed the cane from him, quickly depositing it into the basket that you’d looped the handles of over the crook of your arm. Afterwards, you placed one of Matt’s hands along your bicep. He gripped it fairly tight, tighter than he usually did when you helped guide him.

“So what are we grabbing?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you led him to the open produce section before the pair of you. You noticed it was fairly busy today, judging by the handful of people milling about the fresh produce. “You have something in mind?”

He cleared his throat, head tilting to the side. “How do you feel about lamb chops?” he asked curiously.

Your brows furrowed, not expecting him to suggest that. “It sounds fancier than what I cook,” you answered. “Honestly, I've never had it before.”

“Are you open to it?” he asked, raising a brow behind his lenses.

“Matt,” you began lightly, “you should know by now that I’m usually always open to trying things with you.”

He leaned down towards you, a sly grin on his face as he whispered into your ear. “Yes, but that’s generally in the bedroom,” he whispered. “I’m talking about eating something that’s actually food right now.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his words and you swallowed hard, glancing away. His hand abruptly tightened its grip on your arm as a woman pushing a cart with an irritatingly squeaky wheel passed the pair of you. Faintly you registered her perfume on top of that before you realized that had probably been a vastly more intense experience for Matt to endure than it was for you, judging by the death grip he had on your bicep.

“So, we’re currently in the produce section,” you began, trying to focus the pair of you so you could get Matt out of here quicker. “Do we need some vegetables?”

“What are your thoughts on roasted brussel sprouts?” he asked, seeming slightly distracted.

“I enjoy them,” you answered with a grin. “Is that what you want?”

Matt nodded silently beside you, his attention briefly darting off to the side as the corner of his lips turned down. Taking a moment to scan around you for where the brussel sprouts were located, you wondered what he was currently focused in on. Eyes catching sight of the little green vegetables, you gently tugged your arm against Matt’s hold. His head quickly snapped back towards you as you carefully guided him through the produce section, maneuvering the pair of you around other people and the displays of produce until you both reached the brussel sprouts. 

“Do you want–” you began, but were quickly cut off when Matt’s free hand darted out.

Tilting your own head to the side, you watched in curious silence as Matt’s hand scanned along a few different bags filled with brussel sprouts before you. You’d been about to offer to pick one out, planning to find one that looked the freshest, but apparently Matt had his own way of doing things. After a moment he carefully placed one of the bags into the basket hanging off of your arm and your brows rose onto your forehead as you took in the sight of some really fresh brussel sprouts.

“How did you do that?” you asked him in awe.

His attention shifted towards you, a little grin forming on his mouth. “I have heightened senses, remember?” he whispered. “I can focus on which one smells the freshest.”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He chuckled lightly beside you, though his grip was still tight on your arm.

“Does that work with all food items?” you asked him curiously.

He shrugged beside you. “I suppose so, yeah. Why?”

“Ugh,” you groaned out playfully, turning the pair of you around. “It’s such a shame grocery stores are so awful for you to endure because I would kill to have you pick out fruit. I am terrible at it. I'd never have a bad watermelon again.”

“Good to know I should never trust you with buying the fruit in the future,” he teased, amused.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously as your attention returned to him. “What do you mean?” you asked. 

He shot you a tight lipped smile, as if he’d said something he hadn’t meant to before he quickly shook his head. “Let’s grab a few potatoes for tonight,” he diverted, his attention shifting away from you.

As you led him towards the potatoes, you kept side-eyeing him suspiciously. What had he meant by that? It was almost like he implied there’d be a reason you’d be buying the groceries for the pair of you in the future…

“We need a few red potatoes,” he said, his voice cutting through your train of thought. “I can pick them out if you guide me to where they are.”

You reached out, grabbing his wrist and drawing his hand to the section of red potatoes in the display. Immediately Matt began searching for the best ones, his hand briefly feeling around the potatoes.

“I take it all potatoes smell the same?” you asked him.

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at you with an amused grin. “Yes, sweetheart,” he teased, “all potatoes smell pretty much the same.”

“You’re the one with the fancy Devil senses,” you mumbled as he returned to his task. “How am I supposed to know how potatoes smell to you?”

He chuckled, turning and dropping a few of them into the basket. “I suppose that’s a fair point,” he conceded. “Now, we should probably get the lamb. Then maybe a good red wine?”

Your eyes narrowed immediately at the mention of ‘good red wine.’ “Is there a reason you’re making a fancy meal that includes a good red wine, Murdock?” you asked him suspiciously.

He shot you a little grin, shaking his head. “I just want to make my girl a nice dinner. Is that so wrong?” he questioned.

You snorted out a laugh, Matt’s grin only widening at the sound. Leading the pair of you towards the area labeled ‘Meat’, careful to avoid Matt bumping into everyone else who was not remotely paying attention to anything outside of themselves, your eyes began scanning for lamb chops.

“Your girl, huh?” you teased, eyes roving the various packages.

“Mhmm,” he hummed back.

Chewing your lip, your eyes continued to scan the refrigerated shelves. Eventually you spotted the packages, pointing them out to Matt. Wordlessly you saw him reach out, touching a couple packages briefly before grabbing one. As he turned to set it in the basket, you saw him flinch at the exact same time a baby began crying somewhere in the store. Rigid once again, he placed the package of meat into the basket, his hand gripping hard to your bicep. 

“We can leave,” you instantly told him. “If this is too much, we don’t have to stay.” 

He shook his head, lips thinned out into a straight line. There was a pained look on his face even with his glasses on and you found yourself frowning at the sight.

“Are you still wanting to grab that wine before we check out?” you asked him hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice tight.

Nodding slowly, you turned, leading the pair of you towards the long row of aisles past the produce and meat. As you began leading the pair of you past row after row, your eyes were focused on scanning the various signs above them looking for the section with the alcohol. You had been so focused that you didn’t realize Matt had come to a stop behind you until his firm grip on your arm jolted you to a sharp stop. You paused, turning to look over your shoulder at Matt.

Immediately you felt your heart sink. You could see the tight crease between his dark brows that were drawn together low behind his lenses. The muscle in his cheek was twitching visibly, as if he was grinding his teeth together. Behind his glasses you could make out the pinched look on his face.

You stepped back towards him, facing him fully as his hand only wrapped tighter around your arm. “Matty?” you asked nervously. “You okay? Do we need to go?”

The muscles in his cheek continued to jump and twitch, but he made no move to answer. Chewing the inside of your own cheek, you carefully tried to draw him in towards you. He accepted your embrace easily; his face immediately lowered into the skin of your neck that was exposed just above your scarf. You carefully wrapped your one arm around his back, aware of the basket still hanging off of it. Your other hand slid up between the pair of you, coming to gently rest along the back of his head, your fingers gently carding through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him whisper into your neck.

“What?” you asked in shock, ignoring the looks being shot your way from other customers. Normally, you’d have been self-conscious drawing attention to you in any store, but right now you didn’t remotely care. Matt was having a hard time and that was all that mattered to you. 

“I’m sorry I can’t handle a simple grocery trip,” he explained.

“Matt, stop,” you said firmly. “If I could be aware of half of the things you always are, I’d probably always be crying on the floor. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” You lowered your forehead, resting it against his temple. “Do you want to go?” you asked softly. “Or is there something I can do to help?”

He nuzzled his face further into your neck, his hand on your lower back holding you tight to him. “This is helping,” he whispered. “Just…let me focus on you for a minute?”

“Take all the time you need,” you assured him, your hand still gently carding through his hair.

The two of you had stayed like that for a few minutes, just standing in your strange, silent embrace in front of the loaves of bread. A handful of people gave you both strange looks as they pushed their carts past but you ignored them. Eventually Matt pulled away, a sheepish smile on his face as your arms released him.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly. 

"Of course, Matt," you said, placing his arm back onto your bicep. "It's not like you haven't always been there to help me whenever I need it. Is there anything that would help you though?"

He smiled a little less uncomfortably now, stepping back beside you and nudging your arm, encouraging you to continue walking. You resumed your search for the wine section, once again guiding the pair of you past the various aisles filled with different items. 

"Your voice," he answered. "Your voice helps."

A blush rose to your cheeks as you spotted the alcohol section a few aisles down, just past the coffee and tea aisle. Leading the pair of you that way, you said, "Now I feel put on the spot to blurt something entertaining."

He chuckled softly beside you. "How about you tell me about that story you've been digging into?” he suggested. “You have been oddly silent about it the past week and a half."

You pulled him down aisle eight, leading you both to the vast section of red wines. "I found some leads," you told him, eyes roving the many bottles of wine before you. "Enough to dig into it and have Ellison extend my deadline. I've been working on it on the side of my other stories, but I think this Wayland Corporation is a part of something bigger. I just can’t figure out what yet."

"You said there was a possible connection to Figueroa?" Matt pressed.

"Oh there's definitely a connection," you assured him. "He was an investor–like big time investor–in Wayland. Pretty sure Figueroa still has a company that is actively investing a hefty amount of money while he's in prison."

"Maybe you shouldn't be looking into this," Matt said, a dark edge to his tone.

You shifted, turning to look at him beside you. A serious, concerned expression had taken residence on his face as he gazed back at you. Those dark red lenses looked almost intimidating. 

"Matt, this is literally what I do," you stated firmly. "I'm an investigative journalist. I investigate things. And I am not letting this go."

"If there's someone bigger than Figueroa behind whatever is going on, you're going to put yourself in danger, sweetheart," Matt pushed. 

You shook your head, eyes landing back on the red wines. "I'll be fine, Matt. No one's going to kill me. And if things start looking like they’ll be dangerous, I'll let you know, okay?" Shooting him a quick look, you saw his jaw was set firm. "You want to help pick out a wine or…?" you asked awkwardly. 

"Any cabernet should do," he answered in a clipped tone.

You frowned, turning to face him fully beside you. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" you asked him carefully. 

"I just don't want to see you getting hurt," he replied stiffly. 

Reaching a hand up nervously, your fingertips gently brushed along the length of his jaw. It was always one of your favorite things to do, touching him like this. His expression softened a little and you smiled, a bit of the tension you’d felt easing. 

"I'll be careful," you promised softly. "But now picking out a red wine to pair with lamb on the other hand," you began, spinning back towards the shelves of options as your hand lowered, "is something I do not feel capable of handling."

Matt chuckled beside you, stepping forward and grabbing a bottle off the shelf just to your right. You watched as he set the bottle in the basket, mouth slightly agape. How in the hell did he keep doing that?

"Oh, yeah," you joked, "that was definitely the bottle I was eyeing."

He grinned at you, tugging your arm a little. "Sure, sweetie. You made a great choice. Now let's get the hell out of here before more people start arguing at the same time a child is breaking a jar of pickles on top of the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, this terrible flashback to the nineties music playing on the speakers, the seven different plastic bags currently rustling, and–"

"Oh my God ," you said, guiding the pair of you out of the aisle quickly. "Let's get you out of here before your head explodes, because now I'm starting to worry. No one should be able to experience that many different sensations all at once."

"I agree," he said, removing his hand from your arm to wrap himself around your waist, lowering his chin to your shoulder as the pair of you walked. "But all of that is nice in one particular situation."

You rolled your eyes, trying to control your body’s reaction to his implication. "You would still find a way to think about that," you mumbled. 

"I'm always thinking about that with you," he countered, voice low.

A thought struck you as you neared the front of the store. "So that's��why you're making me dinner!" you blurted.

"What? No!" he quickly responded.

"Oh it totally is," you teased him. "You are trying to wine and dine me."

"Sweetheart, I just wanted to make you a nice dinner," he assured you. 

Your head turned, glancing curiously at him beside you as your pace slowed a bit. He was chewing his bottom lip, the movement catching your eye. Why did he seem nervous?

 "...and to have an excuse to ask you to stay the night again,” he quickly added.

A smile spread over your lips, shaking your head as you pulled the pair of you into a line to check out. "Matt, you don't need to make dinner or come up with an excuse for me to stay, just ask," you told him.

"But,” he began slowly, his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, his voice filled with something you couldn’t quite make out, “what if I want you to stay the night more often?" 

You placed the grocery basket onto the conveyor belt, brows furrowing together as you pulled his cane from it. "We already stay at each other's places multiple times a week," you said. "You want me over…more?"

Turning and looking up at him, you took in the hard to read expression on his face. Once again he almost looked nervous. Why?

"Yes," he said softly.

"I mean…I guess I can stay over more…" you said, brows still furrowed as you studied him beside you. "I just have to figure out how to get to work faster in the mornings when I do. I can’t keep pissing Ellison off and bribing him with coffees."

"You can always leave some of your clothes and things at my place," he offered quickly. “Toothbrush. Shampoo and conditioner. Whatever you need.”

Your brows shot up onto your forehead. He wanted you to leave some of your stuff at his place? Were you hearing him right?

 "Oh, uh, yeah…I uh, I guess that would–would help…" you stammered nervously. “So I could get ready there in the mornings when I stay over, I suppose.”

As Matt silently smiled back at you, you began to wonder why it felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t have long to wonder as the cashier greeted the pair of you and began ringing up your items.

[happypedrohours]

Choose 1, or 2 or 3 (or all of them) from the following lists and send them to fellow Happy Pedro Hours partakers to get to know them better and to have a good laugh!! (We kindly remind you of the Tumblr etiquette back in the day which is that if you receive an ask, it's customary to send one back to the person so they get to answer one (or two or three) themselves)

Don't forget to tag all your replies #happypedrohours !!

June 22nd updates: added questions to Would you rather and Get to know me lists, new Either Or list at the bottom of the post

Would you rather list

Have mint ice cream or chocolate gelato

Have blackberry sherbet or lemon popsicle

Drink Coca Cola or Pepsi

Eat a pizza with mushroom or pineapple on it

Spend one day in a spaceship or one day on an icebreaker

Visit Mars or Saturn?

Live in a little cottage surrounded by frog pond or fields of horses?

Road trip through the US or Australia?

Spend a day wearing no make up or wearing too small shoes?

Learn how to make sushi or noodles?

Eat a hamburger dipped in chocolate or fries dipped in fluff?

Hike an active volcano or a rainforest during a storm?

Cuddle a bear cub or a litter of baby squirrels?

Go on the Orient Express or trek to Victoria Falls?

Sleep under the stars by a swamp or in a hammock hanging from a cliff?

Have universal respect or unlimited power?

Swim in a pool full of Nutella or a pool full of maple syrup?

Spend a week in the forest or a night in a real haunted house?

*updated list*

Always have to tell the truth or always have to lie?

Run your tongue down a NYC sidewalk or press your tongue into a stranger's nostril?

Be in the real-life version of "The Walking Dead" or "American Horror Story"?

Have the hiccups for the rest of your life or always feel like you're about to sneeze but can't?

Use sandpaper as toilet paper or hot sauce as eye drops?

Be sticky for the rest of your life or be itchy for the rest of your life?

Pedro Boys edition

Would would win in a hand-to-hand fight? Dave York or Din Djarin?

Who's the better parents? Din Djarin or Mrs Flores?

Who would win the race? Frankie Morales or Din Djarin (Razor Crest edition, no space jump allowed)

Who would win in a fight? Oberyn Martell or Marcus Moreno?

Who the better cuddler during wintertime? Javi G or Marcus P?

Who's the grumpiest when they show up at their surprise birthday party? Joel or Javi P?

Who has more fashion sense? Javi G or Oberyn Martell?

Who has the best aim with a gun? Joel or Dave York?

Who has the scariest intimidating scowl? Javi P or Joel?

Who is better at reading bedtime stories? Din or Marcus Moreno?

Who’s the best movie night buddy? Dieter or Javi G?

Who’s the best at barbecuing? Frankie or Joel?

Who would win in a eating contest? Marcus P or Max Philips?

Get to know you list

If you could go back to any time period, where would you like to go and why?

What's your favorite color and the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of it?

If you could be transported in any fictional universe, where would you go?

What's a song that reminds you of your favorite season?

Do you read books and if yes, what's your favorite genre?

Do you cook and what's your favorite dish to make?

What's the one place in the world you have always dreamed of visiting?

What is the first concert you attended to?

What did you want to be when you were small?

What’s your favorite swear word (in any language) and why?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

What was/is your favorite subject in school?

If you could only wear one color for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?

Who was your first celebrity crush?

What’s a weird smell that you really enjoy?

Do you have a favorite kind of flower?

Which meal is your favorite: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Do you collect anything?

*updated list*

What color is your toothbrush?

What's your favorite summer activity?

What's the strangest thing you've ever eaten?

What's the sexiest animal?

What is the worst job you could have?

If you could paint anything, what would you paint?

Who is your favorite cartoon character?

Who's your favorite superhero and why?

*New category*

Either or

Museum or carnival?

Horror movie or romcom?

Tea or coffee?

Friends or How I Met Your Mother?

Cat or dog?

Left side or right side of the bed?

Bath or shower?

Paintings or sculptures?

Summertime or wintertime?

Hugs or kisses?

Apple juice or orange juice?

Unicorn or mermaid?

Apple or Android?

Netflix or Disney+?

Instagram or TikTok?

Cereal or toast?

Burger or tacos?

Dinosaurs or dragons?

Greek mythology or Egyption mythology?

New York City or Los Angeles?

Crossword puzzles or jigsaw puzzle?

[powerful-niya]

— (вσn αppètít.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 + 𝙼����𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 (𝙽𝙷𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link to Oneshot below ↴

Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Naruto arrives home from a long day at work to a nice five-star meal, juicy and succulent, all for him. 

And no, his main course had nothing to do with food in the slightest.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ahegao Kink • Anal Play • Anilingus • Body Worship • Butt Fetish • Butt Flap Pajamas • Business AU • Creampie • Cock Worship • Cunnilingus • Dirty Talk • Dom/Sub • Domesticity •  Double Penetration • Dressing-up • Erotic  • Explicit Pajamas • Fall • Fall Theme • Freaky • Free Use Kink • Husband/Wife • Intimacy • Kinky • Kitchen Sex • Marriage • Messy • Modern AU • Multiple Orgasms • Naughty Dinner • Naughty Surprise • NHmonth • Nhmonth23 • No Panties • NSFW • Onesie • Oral Sex • Overstimulation • Praise Kink • Rimming • Roleplay • Spanking • Squirting • Surprise • Table Sex • Twerking • Unprotected Sex • Vaginal Sex • 2023 

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚11.8k.

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚6.5k.

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Transitioning from the vibrant greens of summer to the warm, earthy tones of reds and yellows in autumn provided a vibrant setting for his journey. As he walked, a weariness from the day's events and a building sense of eager anticipation converged within him.

Wearily, Naruto strolled along the leaf-strewn sidewalk as the autumn sun began its gradual descent, casting a gentle, golden hue over the vibrant foliage that adorned Tokyo's streets.

His destination? 

Home, where he knew a special someone was eagerly awaiting his return. 

His beautiful wife, Hinata Uzumaki. 

All day long, Hinata has dominated his thoughts, offering him the strength to endure the demands of his job. 

And now, with determination, he was taking steps toward reuniting with her, once again. 

Naruto let out a tiresome sigh. 

But he couldn't deny how fucking exhausted he was. 

His broad shoulders sagged, breath labored, and his mind cloudy, still ensnared by the remnants of his hectic workday.

His blonde, tousled locks swayed to and fro with each step, brushing against his sweat-drenched forehead. His grip on his briefcase handle was firm, causing it to sway in tandem with his stride.

Another weary sigh escaped the lips of the blonde man, which was merely carried away by the gentle afternoon breeze.

Days like this felt like a maelstrom to Naruto, an unending cyclone of chaos and stress, constantly churning him in its turbulent grasp.

From the first blink of dawn, Naruto's day unfurls like a tightly wound coil, each moment springing forth with urgency and pressure. It's as if he's thrust onto a speeding train, hurtling through a terrain of tasks and deadlines.

His days are always the same, continuously following a consistent pattern.

His schedule was just like this: 

Naruto experiences, every morning, the dissatisfaction of being woken up by the morning light piercing through his curtains, casting long, probing shadows in his bedroom.

Furthermore, he's jolted twice, next by the jarring ring of his alarm clock breaking the silence, signaling the onset of a new day. It's always a rude awakening for him to be so violently pulled from his peaceful sleep, wrapped in the warm sheets of his bed, and cocooned in the loving embrace of his wife, Hinata.

His bed, combined with the soft, welcoming embrace of his wife's arms, always exerts an irresistible pull, tempting him to stay just a bit longer. 

With reluctance, however, Naruto always faces the difficult decision, a big boy decision to tear himself away, knowing that his responsibilities await as he begins another workday. But even so, the warmth of his wife's presence, the affectionate cuddles, kisses, and intimate moments they share during their precious nights always linger, serving as a bittersweet reminder of the comfort he must leave behind.

Day after day, the blonde forces himself out of bed, showers, dresses in his typical formal attire, collects his paperwork to stow in his briefcase, all while trying not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife. In those moments, she appears serenely beautiful in her most natural state, exhausted from maintaining the house while he's away. 

Unable to resist, Naruto finds himself compelled in the routine of leaning in and placing tender kisses on her forehead, whispering, "I'll be back, hime" or "have a good day, my love" before quietly departing.

But, there were times when his days were…

fortunate. 

During those times, his wife naturally wakes, catching him in the midst of his bustling mornings, gracing him with her presence. 

Whenever she wakes up from her slumber just as he's getting ready for work, Naruto always gets a strong feeling that it's going to be a great day for him.

Hinata was undeniably the sunshine of his morning, and honestly, his entire day.

Typically, on these fortunate days, as Hinata is awake, she offers him a drowsy but much-needed greeting, prepares a small yet delectable breakfast for him to kickstart his day. 

She even at times shares a cup of coffee with him, and lastly grants him a swift yet tender moment as he savors the indulgence of kissing her farewell—a promise of their reunion at day's end.

Afterward, he's off.

Unfortunately, though, the daily commute to his workplace frequently saps the small semblance of morning joy he might have felt, given that it (more often than not) turns into a consistently chaotic river of congestion. 

Ah, of course! 

There's nothing quite like navigating the bustling streets of densely populated Tokyo in the mornings. Good kami, that was one of the city's downsides. 

The traffic. 

The fucking traffic was a nightmare. 

Naruto shuddered upon the recollection. 

Nothing but horns blare, and engines roar—a dissonant symphony that truly works Naruto's nerves. It's a constant struggle to navigate through the traffic, aiming to reach work on time without succumbing to road rage.

But arriving at his workplace isn't even better. Not in the least. 

Once settled in the privacy of his office, behind his desk, the immediate demands of his job loom large. It's a realm of tasks and impatient adults that can at times make him want to pull his hair out. 

The routine of paperwork, the ceaseless hum of computers, and the unending flood of emails threaten to overwhelm him. 

The words of the digital realm and the physical one blend together, a swirling storm of information and requests. It's an uphill battle to keep pace, to remain afloat amid the torrent of rapid communication. 

Hours rush by in a whirlwind, meetings and memos blurring together like gusts of wind threatening to throw Naruto off balance. It's an unyielding onslaught, which always leaves him feeling weathered and drained.

The minutes slip away like sand through his fingers, each one a missed chance for respite.

Anticipation for his lunch breaks is a constant for him. 

It's during these cherished moments that he rediscovers happiness, unwrapping the perfectly packed bento boxes prepared with love by his wife. Each box is a treasure trove of deliciousness, neatly arranged in plastic rectangular containers that never fail to elicit envy from his coworkers by just a whiff.

Typically, Hinata dedicates her evenings to preparing these culinary delights for him, meticulously packaging them in the refrigerator for his quick morning grab-and-go's. His lunches often feature an array of delights, from bento boxes to poke bowls, housing an assortment of delightful medley of flavors.

In Hinata's customary arrangement, she would usually assemble a composition of protein over a bed of carbohydrates, encircled by an array of vegetables, creating a delectable mound of sustenance for him. 

Typically, she'd whip up a selection of his preferred dishes: miso ramen or udon noodles, onigiri, yakitori, tamagoyaki, gyozas, nikujaga, sushi, tempura, and an assortment of other delectable creations born from his wife's imaginative culinary mind.

His lunches were always a harmonious burst of colors, arranged with such precision that Naruto occasionally finds himself compelled to pause and simply marvel at the painstakingly crafted meal in all its splendor. 

His lunches always possess an exquisite beauty, as if fashioned by celestial hands, devoid of any imperfection in both appearance and, of course, taste.

Such dishes practically exclaim "Bon Appétit" by their sheer visual allure alone. 

And oh, how he relishes each and every bite.

During that time, Naruto demands that no one bothers him, no one enters his office, no one emails him, no one fucking speaks to him. 

During those moments, the only things that truly matter are his wife's cooking and the act of filling his empty stomach.

Naruto revels in those moments, devouring his lunches with gusto, regularly exclaiming "Itadakimasu" so loudly in gratitude for his beloved wife's cooking that his coworkers can hear him even behind the closed door of his office. 

He kicks his feet and playfully wiggles his toes under his desk, letting out contented sighs, and on occasion, even experiences a slight burn of the tongue from hastily devouring all of the piping hot dishes. 

Yet, none of it wipes the happy smile from his face.

These instances are precious, a time when the chaotic world fades away, and Naruto is reminded of the warmth and love he carries from home, all packed neatly within the plastic containers of his bento lunches.

However, once his lunch is devoured, and his bento box is empty, it serves as a stark reminder that it's time to return to work. 

It's such a pain…

Yet, Naruto perseveres, propelled by the knowledge that each passing hour brought him one step closer to the evening, where he could return to his loving wife, leaving the day's chaos far behind.

His thoughts are always consumed by one person and that is his beloved wife, Hinata. 

She occupies his mind every waking moment, the culprit that is responsible for his constant drive and motivation, the entirety of her presence an embodiment of joy. 

The depth of Naruto's affection for her is palpable, evoking a flutter of butterflies in his stomach with recalling any memory of her, be it her smile, her laughter, or the touch of her lips against his own.

Naruto's love for Hinata is boundless, to the extent that he often yearns to just stay home, to never depart from her in order to escape the monotonous routine of paperwork and social engagements.

However, if he were to do that, it wouldn't be very responsible of him. 

As the provider and head of his household, Naruto has a crucial obligation: to work diligently and secure the resources needed to ensure his partner's happiness and contentment. Therefore, he faces the trials of rising early each day and putting in long, tireless hours to earn necessary income.

This is precisely why he eagerly anticipates these exact moments, day after day, without fail: the end of his work shifts, and being back at home. 

Due to his excitement, Naruto's steps quickened along the sidewalk with the promise of home just down the end of it, his leather briefcase swinging rhythmically at his side, occasionally bumping against his formal slacks. 

His pace was brisk and determined, his oxfords clicking against the stone steps, his legs kicking through bundles of colorful leaves, as he advanced with a lively pep in his step. 

He even let out cheerful whistles.

There was no doubt about it–he was eagerly looking forward to reuniting with his wife.

Usually, as he steps though the threshold of his home, he's greeted with a warm welcome from Hinata, a loving hug, and a hot plate of food to fill his empty belly. 

Yesterday evening, he was surprised to be met with a tantalizing aroma wafting through the air of his home, as soon as he stepped inside. Only to later be surprised to find that Hinata had prepared a special Japanese dish for his dinner, a beautifully presented bowl of Pork Teriyaki Donburi. 

Naruto still remembers that dish, (even now), given how goddamn good it was. 

Such a dish was a masterpiece in the blonde's eyes—tender grilled pork chops, glazed with sweet teriyaki sauce, atop fluffy Japanese rice. On top of that, the dish was adorned with scallions, sesame seeds, and a medley of colorful, fresh vegetables. 

Each bite was a revelation: juicy, flavorful pork; saucy, balanced rice. The crunch of vegetables complemented the savory meat, taking him to another world. It was a symphony of flavors that captivated Naruto. 

The care and love in every bite made it an unforgettable meal for him.

Now, Naruto can't help but wonder what he'll be eating today. 

His stomach growled on cue. 

It's these indulgences that constantly make him thank kami that he has someone to return home to, particularly someone like Hinata. 

Without fail or hesitation, she tends to all of his needs, whether it's his hunger with her delectable cooking, the tension in his shoulders that she skillfully massages away, or even his manly urges, allowing him to unwind in a more intimate manner.

Indeed, he was in the mood for a nice, hot meal or perhaps something a bit spicier to conclude his evening on a high note.

A mischievous smirk graced Naruto's lips as he at last reached the entrance of his very own humble abode. Following the stone path, he was led up to a wooden porch that encircled the front of the house, cradled within the embrace of the surrounding trees. 

The sight before him was a true idyll, a snug little house that embodied serenity and peace for him.

His home was his safe haven. A sumptuous delight.

There, before Naruto, stood the two-story house he shared with his wife, its structure emanating a serene elegance that seamlessly blended with the autumnal hues of the dusky natural surroundings.

Smooth, warm-toned wood formed the walls, intricately designed. Sliding paper doors adorned the front, showcasing delicate patterns in various shades of brown, offering glimpses into the serene interior.

The roof, elegantly curved and topped with wooden shingles, gently descended to form a sheltering canopy over the structure. 

Traditional lanterns graced the exterior, suspended from the porch ceilings, their gentle illumination casting a warm radiance during the evening hours.

A meticulously tended garden framed the entrance, featuring carefully pruned bonsai trees and lively blossoming plants, all thanks to his wife's passion for gardening. Hinata's diligent care infused the surroundings with a touch of natural splendor, enhancing the overall beauty of their home.

Naruto looked up at the house with admiration, his gaze following the elegant lines of the eaves and the graceful arch of the roof. It was a truly remarkable sight, showcasing the skill and artistry of Japanese architecture. The house exuded a peaceful aura, inviting anyone who approached to enter a realm of love and serenity. 

Finally standing before it, Naruto was overcome with a wave of gratitude and contentment. 

This was their home, a sanctuary where he and his wife could forge a life filled with love and treasured moments. 

A place where they can build a family together.

Grinning, Naruto finally took the necessary steps to advance, eager to step through the threshold and immerse himself in the welcoming embrace that awaited him.

Without delay, Naruto took hold of the front sliding door, or more accurately, the fusuma door, swiftly initiating its opening to step inside his home. As he slid the front door of his home open, the burden of his responsibilities and the pressures of adulthood seemed to dissipate altogether, replaced by a growing sense of excitement.

Stepping into the welcoming warmth of his home, the familiar scent of the space enveloped him, instantly easing his mind. 

The gentle, warm illumination from the lighting fixtures bathed the area in a soothing glow, conjuring an atmosphere that felt like heaven, beckoning him to venture further inside and desert the outside world. 

"Hinata-hime, I'm home!" 

Without hesitation, Naruto called out to his beloved with a voice that bore a blend of weariness and anticipation. He yearned for Hinata to be aware of his return, to experience the joy of him being back home and in her company once more. It was a cherished routine, this moment of calling out to announce his arrival and reuniting with her.

The blonde man always found himself eagerly anticipating these very moments, where he'd step through their doorway and find himself welcomed by the presence of his wife. 

Naruto could vividly picture Hinata's smile, the soft arc of her lips that never failed to brighten his mood. 

He could almost foresee her launching herself at him, eager to wrap her arms around his terribly weary body. The thought of her waiting for him, her presence filling the space with warmth and affection, was something that never failed to fill his heart with a rush of gratefulness.

However, his smile faltered as his call was met with a haunting silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the house like an deadly chill. In an instant, his heart sank, replaced by a gnawing worry at the absence of his wife's familiar response to his usual greeting. 

Furrowing his brow, he proceeded deeper into their home, not before taking a moment to carefully shift the front door closed behind him.

Naruto turned back around, determined to explore further.

He called out to Hinata again.

"Hey, Hinata-hime! I'm back!" 

Silence. 

Yet again. 

Naruto's nose wrinkled, the scent of Hinata's favorite vanilla candles lingering in the air. 

His ears strained, eager to catch any familiar sounds within the house. He longed to hear the usual clinks of utensils in the kitchen, the soft sizzle of the stove, or the gentle rustle of fabric as Hinata moved about in her adorable socks.

But nothing.

Naruto heard nothing.

He wrinkled his brows, 'What the hell is going on-?' 

But just as he thought that, he suddenly heard a sudden shuffle within the diner area of the home, a confirmation of other life within the quiet space. 

"In here, my love!" 

Naruto's ears perked up.

And there it was, precisely what he had been seeking.

His wife's voice. 

Hinata.

Her melodious voice exuded tenderness and warmth, instantly alleviating the concerns he felt earlier. Hinata's angelic voice held a soothing rhythm as it echoed through the entire house, a harmonious familiarity that resided deep within him.

And in that instant, the world around the blonde seemed to blur, leaving only the enchanting allure of his wife's voice, guiding him toward its source.

The dining room. 

A smirk slid across his whiskered face before he took a step forward, but he didn't do so, not without kicking off his formal shoes and placing them on the shoe rack beside the entrance door.

Naruto bit his lip.

"Alright, hime, I'm coming." 

"Hurry, my love!" 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he sensed the enthusiasm in his wife's tone, a rather peculiar detail that piqued his interest. He clutched his briefcase firmly and began to venture across the hardwood floor, each step echoing as he went.

"Alright, alright, I'm hurrying." Naruto exclaimed with another chuckle, rocking his briefcase through the air, back and forth by his side.

"What's got you so excited, hm, Hinata-hime?" 

Naruto raised his voice, calling out in an attempt to reach his wife from a distance.

However, as he inched closer to the dining room, he couldn't ignore the fact that Hinata's voice gradually intensified, solidifying his suspicion that she was, in fact, situated in the area he had assumed earlier: the dining room of the house.

"Oh Naruto-kun, I've got a surprise treat just for you!"

"Oh? A surprise treat, eh?" Naruto retorted in amusement, and instantly, his thoughts veered towards food—or rather, a succulent, piping-hot meal of his utmost liking to devour.

'Mmm, it's gotta be ramen'. Naruto's thoughts were consumed by hunger, distorted by it, and on cue, his stomach let forth a growl.

"Mmm, that sounds delightful, hime," He murmured incoherently, as if in a trance brought on by none other than starvation. Gently, he gave his empty belly a rub, doing so with his free hand.

And on that note, Naruto's speed increased. 

In a matter of seconds, Naruto closed the remaining distance to the sliding entrance of the dining room with eagerness, now mere inches from where his wife was waiting.

Naruto smirked. 

He didn't wait. 

He instead, reached his free hand forth to grab the handle of the door tight, and without a second thought, he swung it open. 

"Does my surprise happen to be food, Hinata-hi-?" 

His words were almost instantly silenced, caught in his throat, as he laid eyes on his wife upon returning home for the first time. 

However, what he witnessed, what Hinata had hinted at earlier, was certainly not what he had expected.

Yes, a treat was certainly presented in front of him, but such a treat certainty didn't have anything to do with food.

No.

Not in the slightest. 

This was a different type of treat. A treat that no doubt caused his interests to pique skyhigh. 

"Well, well. Now what do we have here, hm?" Naruto's inquiry escaped his lips mischievously as he approached his wife in the dining room. The table was surprisingly bare, void of any food, but instead, Hinata herself occupied the space. 

A sight he was certainly not expecting.

She was perched on the dining table, near the far end, closest to the room's entrance, or more specifically, facing where Naruto currently stood. Hinata sat on the table as if it were a chair, her legs playfully but adorably swinging back and forth off the edge, her focus directed entirely on him.

She playfully waved, giggling, "Konbanwa, Naruto-kun."

"Konbanwa, Hinata-hime." Naruto replied with a charming smirk, watching her as she gracefully hopped off the table and landed on the floor with a soft thud. However, her movement drew notice to the cute white socks she had on, which served as soft padding with her steps.

In a hurried motion, Naruto's eyes eagerly drank in every inch of his wife, his mind swiftly spiraling into some rather naughty musings. He couldn't help but recall what Hinata had hinted at earlier, that a delightful surprise awaited him.

Naruto clicked his tongue. 'No fucking way.' He thought with a devious smirk.

'Hinata couldn't have planned what I think she has, could she?' Naruto thought once more, absorbed in his naughty thoughts as he went about further inspecting his devious wife. 

Hinata giggled at the shocked reaction of her husband, standing at the entrance door with his mind churning, his mouth gaping, and his interests piqued. 

It was just the reaction she was hoping for. 

Naruto hummed, biting his lip, "Heh, you certainly look... cozy."

There, Naruto witnessed a grand sight, a definite treat he had the luxury of witnessing. 

With delight, he traced his cerulean eyes from the crown of his wife's head to the tips of her toes, marveling at an outfit he'd never seen before, one that he hadn't imagined Hinata would ever have in her possession.

She was dressed in a onesie.

But it wasn't just any onesie.

Hinata was presently adorned in a cozy and alluring white onesie, perfect for the fall season. But it was adorned from head to toe with a delightful pattern of ripe, juicy peaches scattered across the fabric. 

The soft white background of the attire served as a canvas for the vibrant, cheerful fruit motifs. The peaches were embellished with small speckles and gradients, mirroring the authentic texture of real fruit.

The garment was not only visually appealing but also exuded a sense of comfort and relaxation, making it a perfect choice for a cozy day at home.

But from a man's perspective, from Naruto's perspective, the onesie worn by Hinata exuded a subtle yet undeniable sense of sensuality. The fabric, caressing her form with a gentle embrace, hinted at the contours of her body underneath, allowing him glimpses of her natural grace and feminine allure. 

The peaches, scattered strategically across the fabric, no, across the body of his slender, and luscious woman, drew attention with their luscious color and playful arrangement. 

The peaches, with their warm hues of orange and red, seem to dance across the onesie, inviting Naruto's eyes to trace their path, and come to grasp with their sensual design. The peaches decorating Hinata's onesie was a vivid and luscious shade of coral, each one boasting a plump and juicy appearance similar to that of a woman's buttocks. 

It was certainly a sight to behold, a sight that instantly caused Naruto to salivate, his mouth watering in response to witnessing the delectable treat in front of him.

Hinata chuckled as she noticed her husband's blue eyes immediately darkened with arousal, fixated on her—exactly as she desired.

She hummed, wiggling her hips a bit, "Mmm, you like?" 

She observed her blonde husband nodding, his grip on his briefcase handle growing tighter.

"Heh, like?" He shook his head, better emphasizing his adoration for her attire choice.

"No, I love it, my darling. Opting for such a onesie is a bold move, but an excellent one. Heh," 

Naruto chuckled, "it accentuates those gorgeous curves of yours, just the way I love Hinata-hime. But I'm curious..." The blonde cocked his head, studying how the snug onesie she wore highlighted the contours of her hourglass figure so well, he couldn't help but mutter a short but sweet…

"damn."

Naruto found himself utterly captivated by the sensuality as well as the confidence radiating from his woman, intrigued by this… delightful surprise she had in store for him.

Instantly, his mind ventured into naughty territory, entertaining a few racy ideas about what might be on his wife's agenda for tonight.

However, Naruto opted to feign innocence. He wanted Hinata to reveal her plans to him in full, to share what she'd been plotting. To his utter delight. 

So, he let out a playful chuckle, "So, where's this... treat of yours, hmm?" Naruto glanced around the diner room, feigning a perplexed expression, "Where might I find it?"

Hinata bit her lip, to hold back a giggle. She knew exactly what Naruto was doing. 

That mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable as his gaze lingered over her,  a seductive grin slowly but surely unfurling across those fox-like, whiskered cheeks of his. 

He was well aware of her intentions, as well aware of the naughty endeavors that crawled around in her head, and danced around on her face. 

He knew her well anyway. 

But Naruto was so intrigued, he wanted her to reveal her plans to him step by step.

Hinata had no problem with that. 

In fact, she responded with an amused giggle, her chest rumbling, which caused strands of her midnight blue hair to escape their confines and gently graze her cheeks.

Her long hair was gathered in a messy, high bun, keeping it out of her face and revealing every bit of her delicate facial features. 

The midnight blue-haired woman hummed thoughtfully, running her free hand along her clad form, just along her right hip.

"You know, Naruto-kun, I've been giving a lot of thought to what I should prepare for you this evening." 

"Yeah?" Naruto breathed, absolutely loving where this was going.

Hinata sent a charming smile his way, her lavender orbs glistening in the light. Her left hand tapped the diner table beside her, "I wanted to offer you something different, something special for you, Naruto-kun. Something that is tailored precisely to your needs, to provide the satisfaction a hard working man such as yourself so rightly deserves."

Hinata gave a tender smile, "I've noticed your dedication, Naruto-kun. I've noticed all the challenging mornings, the rough workdays, and the constant stress you endure every single day." 

She paused her words to nibble her lip gently, her eyebrows furrowing,  "You've been pouring so much of yourself into taking care of me, making sacrifices everyday to ensure we both attain the happiness we've always yearned for."

Hinata nodded, her bun swaying with her motion, "So, I considered this for you, my love; an opportunity to completely indulge tonight, as much as you want." 

Naruto's eyes shot wide, his heart skipping several beats by Hinata's words which resonated deep within him.

Hinata giggled once more, "So, I have figured out just what you should eat tonight, Naruto-kun." 

And in that moment, Hinata turned her body, turning her body in a graceful pivot, so he could see even more of her. As she moved, the onesie moved with her, displaying a fluidity that highlighted the gracefulness of her gestures. 

But as she turned around, Naruto's mind no longer took in the way the onesie looked on his woman's body but rather the makeshift of the fabric piece itself. 

What he saw, made his mouth drop even farther, and his massive friend buried within his slacks instantly spring to life. 

There, Hinata presented once more his meal for the night, a grand meal meticulously prepared to damn near perfection. 

There, Hinata revealed her backside, where a highly surprising detail was revealed, a detail that if Hinata didn't turn around, he would still completely be oblivious too.

Her onesie possessed a butt flap. 

Naruto's eyes shot wide at the sight of the white buttons that were engraved into her seductive lounge choice, which seemed to follow an oval path right around his wife's buttocks, the fabric merely covering up the space where the crack of her pussy lips was located.

The flap was currently closed, but thanks to Naruto's patience, or moment of shock rather, he witnessed his wife reaching behind her luscious frame to pry the fabric open, to snap it loose from the buttons that held it close. 

"Mmm, that's right. You can have me for dinner, my love."

Hinata bit her lip as she went about pulling her onesie's butt flap open, to give Naruto an even closer look at the meal he will be eating tonight. 

"I figured it's the least I can give you. And besides," Hinata shrugged her shoulders, looking back at his shocked frame over her shoulder, "I just wanted to be creative tonight, maybe even a little spicer."  

And with that, a loud pop was heard from the buttons of Hinata's onesie and finally, his surprise awaited him.

A grand sight of Hinata's creamy buttocks.

Hinata wore absolutely no panties underneath her onesie. Her two asscheeks seemed to peek out at him through the opening of her onesie, a onesie, by the way, he never knew existed until now. 

Hell, a onesie he never knew that his wife knew about.

It was a onesie that forsaken the essence of comfort and innocence, but now took on a different approach, one of seduction and all right naughtiness, and it now inhabited the body of his wife, his sexy fucking wife.

Naruto growled underneath his breath, trying his best to hold back his restraints but he felt them slipping. Dangerously so. 

It was always a pleasure to observe his wife transition from her innocent, wholesome demeanor to a more confident, seductive version of herself. 

It almost felt like Naruto was witnessing a different side of his wife emerging, brought forth effortlessly and presented to him without hesitation—a method to fulfill his desires in a way she knew well.

Now, with her adorned in such a onesie, revealing the plan she had dedicated the entire day to bring to fruition, he knew that she meant business.

Even down to her voice, he knew she was just as horny as he was. Her tone had transformed into a sultry symphony, draped in velvet and laced with subtle allure. Low and smoldering, her voice revealed a seductive side she reserved for him and only him.

Each word she spoke unfolded languidly, bathed in a sensuous cadence that seemed to caress his ears, and cause his dick to rise more and more in his slacks. 

There was an intimate confidence in her delivery, a knowing inflection hinting at hidden desires. Her words lingered, leaving a tantalizing trail of anticipation, weaving a spell of temptation that invited him to lose himself completely.

Naruto felt his arousal growing exponentially, every second his manly urges rising up that peak to a place of no return, especially as he witnessed his wife begin to climb on the diner table, the very same table he always ate her home cooked meals on but now…

She was his meal for tonight.

And Naruto surely didn't protest that. 

His erection, in fact, twitched in delight in his formal slacks, brushing against the zipper, eager to be unleashed.

His stomach was no longer the recipient that will be in the spotlight today, but instead his dick was. Just as his stomach growls when it wishes for fulfillment, his dick twitched and hardened, yearning with all of its might to reach for its meal.

Naruto's blue eyes darkened even further, 'Mmm, what a turn of events.'  He thought with a lick of his lips.

It was always like Hinata, always going the extra mile to be considerate, presenting precisely what he desired, as if she could read his mind. She always knew how to brighten his day and cater to his needs with utmost expertise.

And once again, she hadn't failed to impress him, displaying her talents once more.

And Naruto was pleased. Deeply. 

He licked his lips yet again, a curse slipping past his gaping lips, "Mmm, fuck yeah, sweetheart. I got to say, you've really done something that I never thought possible." Naruto trailed off before he began to take a step forward, deeper into the diner room.

"Mmm, and what might that be, my love?" Hinata purred, her sweet voice filling the entirety of the room, imbuing it with her loveliness. 

Naruto huffed, closing the dining room door behind him with a thump before continuing his journey forward, drawn closer to his delectable meal.

He hummed, his spiky hair tousling with every step, "You've outdone yourself with my meal tonight, Hinata-hime. Out of all of them, this has gotta be the best one yet." 

Hinata couldn't suppress a giggle in response to her husband's compliment. And as a playful treat, she began to shake her ass for him, firmly placing her hands on the wooden table to maintain her position, bent over, providing Naruto with a little show.

Hinata truly relished hearing that. It boosted her confidence, reassuring her that Naruto was genuinely pleased with the meal she had conceived, prepared, and served to him tonight. 

She was certain he would be anyway. 

Hinata lowered her head a bit, as she continued the action of wiggling her ass, her visible cheeks swaying left and right, their performance presented clearly through the round hole in her onesie.

"Oh? I'm your best meal, hm?" 

"Hell yeah you are, beautiful." 

Hinata giggled once more, before she brought  one finger up, doing so to beckon him over, "Mmm, oh, my sweetheart, just wait until you get a taste of me." 

She shook her ass once more, her creamy buttocks rocking side to side in a steady but enticing motion, "Come, sit down. Your meal is all ready and prepared for you, my dear husband." 

On that note, Hinata rotated her body, ensuring her back was no longer facing Naruto but his designated chair at the table, the one he sat in every single day. 

She then turned her head back to her husband. 

She brought her tongue forth and swiped the pink appendage along her plump lips in a circular motion, enticingly slow. It was a display that gave off an irresistible effect, one that made Naruto's dick fully erect. 

"Come, enjoy your meal." Hinata squinted her lavender eyes at him, "Taste me. Eat me." 

Those enticing demands were all it took for Naruto to finally advance in an effort to enjoy the meal his wife had offered him for the night; her. 

Naruto quickly made his way over like the starving man he was, ready to enjoy the fruits of her.

His mouth was fucking salivating, watering in a desire to get a taste of the delicacy that resided right within the gape of his wife's onesie, in the gapes of her now visible asscheeks. He was ready to devour her whole, to consume all that she had to offer, and even afterward, go for seconds. No thirds. 

He rushed over to her like a dog would to a treat, electing several giggles to slip out of Hinata's mouth at the sight of her husband’s visible enthusiasm. 

With a clatter, he placed his briefcase on the diner table, just beside her bent form, removing it from his hands, and momentarily getting it and what it stood for out of his sight and mind.

His blue eyes were rooted on his meal, and only his meal at the moment, once more with his usual desire to not be bothered by other matters as he attends to it. 

Now front and center, he was able to see the significant gape in Hinata's peach onesie, where it gave sight to her own natural peach, revealing her succulent, juicy core. Her pussy lips. 

Her pretty pink pussy lips were presented in between her plump asscheeks, fat, puffed, and glazed with a symphony of nectarous juices, a sight so delightful to Naruto's eyes, he couldn't help but stand back and marvel at it.

No matter how many times he witnessed the private delicacies of his wife, Hinata was still a meal unlike any other he's ever seen or eaten before. She was akin to a treasure trove of hidden delights, a treat within a treat that should be ravished again and again. 

At first glance of her backside, it appears to hold just one prize, her delectable ass, but when he looks deeper, there lies a cascade of additional treasures waiting to be discovered. 

Each layer of her present yet another gem, creating an escalating sense to arise for him to explore all that she had to offer. 

After all, he never grows tired of doing so. 

Naruto licked his lips for the umpteenth time it seems,  "Oh, my beautiful hime, you always just know how to please me." He breathed, as he centered his body directly behind Hinata, causing her to turn her head even further over her shoulder to keep an eye on him.

Hinata watched with hooded lavender eyes as Naruto slowly reached up and deftly pulled the knot of his tie loose. The fabric relaxed, unwinding from its formal embrace in response to his yank. 

As Naruto loosened the fabric, he immediately felt a palpable sense of freedom, free from the restraints of his formal display and now transiting into a more relaxed one, a relaxed form ready to eat his meal in peace. 

The black silk slid through his fingers, cool and smooth, just as his blue eyes slid across the delicacy of his wife bent and spread for him, his heated gaze never drifting off of her as he went about removing a piece of his formal wear. 

His actions were deliberate, each movement executed with an unhurried pace, his narrowed blue eyes focused and intent. 

Now, it was his turn to provide Hinata with a spectacle, and he observed as he made her shudder. The way he smoothly worked his tie off, coupled with his intense gaze, caused more of those enticing juices of hers to slip from her opening. 

She moaned, batting her eyelashes back at him, "Oh Naruto-kun." She moaned. 

"Heh," Naruto scoffed playfully, before he gave his tie a final tug before easing, allowing it to hang more casually around his neck.

He then let out a growl, low and deep, "Mmm, I am going to enjoy this, hime." He whispered out seductively, before plopping his ass right upon his usual diner seat. He scooted his chair forward, so he could be up close and personal with his meal.

Hinata hummed before giving her ass a sensual rock, "Yes, Naruto-kun, it's all yours, my love. Eat until your heart's content." She moaned, her loose strands of midnight blue hair fluttering in the air, keeping pace with her movements.

She gave him one last wiggle of her ass, "Bon Appétit, my love." 

Naruto gave Hinata an amused look, one of furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and a playful smirk. 

Instead, he clasped his hands together, pressing his palms firmly, creating a seamless connection of skin against skin. 

Bowing his head, he expressed gratitude to Hinata for presenting him with a meal before partaking in it.

"How about…" Naruto lifted his head to smirk naughtily.

"Itadakimasu." 

Continue Reading On Wattpad Or AO3.

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[corpocyborg]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @illusivesoul. (Thank you!)

I'm going to share a bit from a future chapter of Secure Your Soul, which is my AU where Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka. I have previously posted this bit on tumblr, but it's been edited since then and it's been a while and unfortunately I don't have a lot of new content... so here it is again. 😅

--

CHAPTER TBD: FEED THE DEMON

V wasn't sure how much time had passed, but as she started to regain lucidity, she became gradually aware of Johnny's voice in her head.

"I mean, for fuck's sake, V," Johnny was saying. "I've seen your memories. The things you've done for 'Saka. You've killed. Blackmailed. Ruined lives. And for what? Corporate rep? Profit margins? How do you fuckin’ live with yourself?"

V stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. The alley she was in was abandoned. Litter lined the sidewalk, and the street lamps were barely flickering. In a dark corner nearby, a stray dog was busy devouring a rat.

For a few seconds, V just watched it. Homeless dogs were a rare sight in Night City. This one was dark gray and half its left ear was missing. It looked lean and muscular, and it tore off chunks of its prize with a ferocity that domestic dogs almost never displayed.

"You see that?" she asked Johnny.

Johnny's physical image materialized in the alley. He leaned against the wall—appeared to lean, she reminded herself—and gazed at the dog. "See everything you see," he replied.

"You're looking. You're not seeing."

"That so? And what'm I supposed to be seeing?"

"The evolutionarily synchronized relationship between predator and prey."

Johnny looked up from the dog and stared at her. She could see the anger on his face, but she could also feel him manifesting that same anger inside her body. No matter. She'd make it hers. Anger was an emotion she could work with.

"You see one dog eating one rat," V continued, allowing some of Johnny's anger to seep into her voice, directing it back at him. "In your interpretation, there's one winner and one loser. It's accurate, in a way. The dog wins. Look at him. He's a survivor. Even you should be able to recognize that."

Johnny didn't answer. His image was looking away from her, eyes locked on the warring animals. But she could still feel him fuming. Only now it was hard to tell where his anger ended and hers began. She continued speaking.

"You don't see the bigger picture. For every dog having dinner tonight, dozens starve. For every rat providing the main meal, dozens get away. They're fast enough or clever enough to escape.

"Only the best dogs feed, only the best rats live. And because of this, over generations, both species improve. In the end, the prey species benefits just as much as the predator species does. And the world gets better."

"The world." Johnny repeated the phrase slowly. She tasted his revulsion on her tongue. "This world?" he asked. He gestured at the trash-strewn alleyway. The dog had finished its meal and had settled to sleep in a blanket likely left there before by a homeless person. "This is your brave new world?"

"No, Johnny," she responded, her voice echoing the revulsion he'd forced her to feel. "These are just the rats that got caught."

---

And, now for my tags...

@merge-conflict, @gamerkitten, @luvwich, @fereldanwench and @another-corpo-rat

No pressure of course as always.

[sukimas]

theoretically, if people spent 150k on procuring food and medicine for others, would you even notice if you weren't one of those people?

if we go with OP's saying "that shit is like 10K", with the fandom kickstarter example, you could help 15 people. with the ao3 yearly (not monthly...) fundraiser example, which is about 450k or so, you could help 45 people. even if people were donating ten times as much to help others who were struggling as people donated to fandom projects, you really wouldn't even notice- tumblr has millions and millions of active users.

in a society with no social safety net, is it immoral to spend money on entertainment? considering that the average amount of money people donate to kickstarters/fundraisers/etc. is quite low. it's usually less than a full-price video game. (to quote inflation-adjusted monkey island, never pay more than 45 bucks for a computer game.) therefore, if it is immoral to donate to fandom shit, it's equally (if not more) immoral to purchase media as entertainment (since this often does not go to immediate financial needs of its creators if it is popular media.)

people should help other people survive. it's kind of necessary if you want to succeed at being a social creature. but living like a monk and donating all of your non-essential income to charity is generally not performed by even the top percentages of charity donors.

every inch of this earth is covered in bones that you're standing on- bones that were ground into dust for you to live on it. the internet itself is a great US-military-funded pile of bones. every shirt you buy, every meal you eat, every step you take on the sidewalk is founded on bones. bones that you don't even know you're standing on. not because you hate their former owners, or even don't care about them, but just because you don't know about them.

you shouldn't be punished for standing on a grave that you never knew existed. you shouldn't be punished for not dodging every grave when you're gleefully running over the grassy hills. it doesn't make it more just or unjust if the hills someone's running over are the Cringe ones! if the shallow things that bring someone joy are things that you think fucking suck and are annoying, well, honestly, that's just too bad. but people enjoying non-necessities that you personally approve of are spending just as much money on them as the people enjoying non-necessities you hate, and are therefore causing (or, if you like, not preventing) just as much harm.

[rhapsodybenny]

Things I would do if I were rich:

* Subsidize a different artist's commissions every week, on the conditions that they 1) Prioritize people who've been supportive, but always lament not being able to throw money their way, and 2) Let me know the lowest price those people commonly throw out, so I can make sure it's within their reach.

* Pay more than fair taxes, and either don't request a refund, or put my refunds to charity - whichever seems better.

* Leave a $200 tip on every meal out with a note attached saying "pay it forward!"

* Leave $50 bills under boxes of ramen/really cheap food at grocery stores.

* Commission loads of stuff, from music to games to stories to art, and pour it *all* into the public domain.

* Buy the rights to various properties, also just to release them into the public domain.

* Buy WinRar.

* Put out huge bounties for different random ideas that occur to me - "Write this story/make this art/design this game, and I'll send you $500!"

* With permission, order printings of single copies of long stories online I like, and drop them into the "free bin" at used bookstores.

* Find books I like at independent bookstores, pay way too much for them at the counter, and either once again put them in the free bin, or tell the person working the register to offer them to someone else.

* Stuff tip jars.

* Give money to people I trust with different perspectives, and tell them to go crazy with it, as long as however they do makes the world a better place.

* Randomly order UberEats for friends (including online ones), and tip 40%.

* Give away Adobe Creative Cloud subscriptions.

* Get Patreon memberships at the highest tier from everyone I even mildly follow.

* Every year, buy tickets in the mosh pit for every concert in the tour of a different band. See if they notice the same face always being there every night. (Stolen from Tumblr; sadly can't find the post.)

* Instantly complete every single GoFundMe that I come across.

* Gift ALL the Twitch subs.

* Fund game preservation initiatives.

* Hire homeless people to do sidewalk chalk art wherever they like, of whatever they like, for $200/hour.

* Put the same cryptic message in the classifieds of every newspaper released in the country on a single day.

* Do the “Tip the worker every time the Karen starts yelling at them” thing.

* Pay to remove ads at every opportunity.

* Every day, give a random person a $20 bill.

* Preorder EVERYTHING (big help for small books and games!)

* Bail out local places that are failing.

* Offering to fund the building of small arcades (only a few games, Pizza Hut style) at random restaurants.

[worldwright]

Good evening !

Sooooo, I kinda only did 2 of my things today: buying coloring books and seeing my friend. I wasn't in a very good mood so I was better off not talking to that bitch I share classes with. Also, skipping class to go to another class where I know nothing is fun (me being in languages and my friend in musicology, it's not the same lol). The conference and the class were fun, met new people AND EVEN SOMEONE WHO WATCH JJK. SHE WAS ALSO A CHOSO ENJOYER. Not as much as both of us, but still !

And I ate two meals ! It's a bit weird, because I don't address that on tumblr -it's not the funniest thing about me- but my friends are proud of me to have eaten twice today !

Also, it's really weird for me to know which city you live in, but that's City Folks. Y'all always tell your city when you can x) Like, Parisians also love to tell you that they live in that trash of a city (same with the people in Lyon, Marseille, or even Rennes and sometimes Montpellier or Nice (too bad it doesn't have the same pronunciation of "nice")). I'm from towns and villages, like no one in Giens (one of the places I lived in, south-east France, a really nice place, good mediterranean beaches, although there's too many tourists) tells you they live in Giens. Fucking glad I don't live in a city -they're the worst imo- but that's maybe bc I lived most of my life in towns and villages, same with my parents and grandparents

Have a wonderful morning and a good time with your BFF and partner this evening !

I also am proud that you got two meals today!! food is delicious and I'm glad you enjoyed more of it than usual :3 (my bff also often has trouble eating more than one meal a day so I know how it is lol)

I think it's good for my soul to occasionally remind myself that I don't know shit about fuck 😌😌 keeps me humble. sitting in on a class that I have no context for would certainly put things in perspective lmao

and yeah about the cities -- I grew up in a nearby town, but I still said I was "from Seattle" because it's way more likely that people know where that is. I can't imagine growing up in a dense city like that........ just. how would I deal with my school being a few floors of a skyscraper?????? how would I deal with the only trees around being in sidewalks and parks?????? not driving through a wetlands on the way to the store?????? don't ever go out after dark???????? no bears going through your trash can???? (well maybe not that one-)

anyway I think it would be wonderful to live in a little village, if only for a year or two.

I've got a two hour drive tonight, and then I will be able to hug my friends!!!!!

hope you have a wonderful evening, friend!!

[cockslutpadalecki]

‘Til Death Do Us Part

Summary: Y/N heads back to the home she once shared with Steve in preparation to spend one last night together before their divorce is due to be finalised. Little does she know that her husband doesn’t intend to give her up. Ever.

Characters: Dark!Steve x Reader.

Words: 3391.

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, mentions of drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, implied forced pregnancy, slight breeding kink, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, mentally abusive relationship tw, 18+.

A/N: Written for @stargazingfangirl18​​‘s amazing 5K Soft!Dark Challenge. I chose dialogue prompt #3 (”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”) and it is highlighted in bold. Siri, I can’t tell you how much of a blast it was to write this! Thank you so much for hosting, and many congratulations on your 5K milestone - you deserve every single one of them. Beta: @sweeterthanthis​​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. I also have to thank you Lau for being the greatest support and enabler. You are truly a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Somehow you expect the family home to look different in a way— like the roof should be sporting some devil’s breath while the ground suddenly gives way to brimstone as a way of signifying its metaphorical descent into hell, but as you step from the cab straight onto the sidewalk, it looks the same as you left it four months ago.

Sure, there’s leaves blocking the gutter, the bushes leading up to the porch look a little unruly and the lawn could do with a trim, but really they’re only surface deep differences, ones you probably never would have noticed had you stayed put.

The real change you figure, would be inside, buried within the woodwork like rot, much like the person residing inside it, a malevolent kind of darkness laying claim to their soul.

The house still looks like something plucked right out of a fairytale, its entire presence cosy and inviting. You just wish you hadn’t been the one to abandon it.

Memories flood your thoughts— you could recall the day you moved in like it was yesterday, just like the moment Steve proposed to you on the front porch, and that first step across the threshold as a married couple will live with you until the day you die, no matter how hard you do your best to block it out.

Pushing open the white gate, you take a slow walk up the path, each step hesitant and tentative, unsure if coming back here was the right thing to do. You need those divorce papers, your inner voice reminds you curtly. Then you can get the hell outta here and put this all behind you.

You’d been Mrs. Rogers for the better part of five years, and to begin with, it had been the perfect marriage. Steve was a model husband and lover, but over the time the cracks started to show. He became possessive and controlling, desperate to know where you were at any given time of day when you weren’t with him. He told you what you could and couldn’t eat, controlled the intake of your calories, and eventually he dictated your meals to the last crumb.

He was a master manipulator— breaking off your friendships with your nearest and dearest from right under your nose, using your own hands to chop the strings from the “puppets” he called them. But little did you know, you were Steve’s toy all along. Moulded into his perfect little wife who wouldn’t dare put a foot out of line.

It wasn’t until you had to travel for work— a situation Steve did his best to quash, that you came to your senses when a co-worker innocently commented on the unhealthy dependency you seemingly had on your husband, after calling to apologise that you hadn’t checked in with him, despite the fact you had been caught up in meetings all day.

She became concerned for you, asking you to seek help from friends and you admitted they had all drifted away, not realising you were the one to create the wedge in the first place.

That was the first piece of the jigsaw to fall from its place, until more began to slip, giving you a glimpse into the harsh reality below it.

You eventually escaped his clutches three months later.

Six weeks passed before you served the divorce papers, citing unreasonable behaviour on his part. Steve seemingly accepted them without causing a ruckus like you expected, instead only asking of you a simple request.

It had been a long day at the office the night his text came through, a renowned sense of fear clasping at your heart the minute you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. You left it an hour before you summoned up the courage to open it, the two glasses of red wine helping to steady to your nerves. You expected something malicious, but what flashed up before you was far from it.

“Come back for one last night? I’ll take you to dinner at Romanoff’s then home for a movie? It’ll be just like old times.”

While you were initially dubious, you couldn’t help feel an odd sense of nostalgia, almost wanting to relive your old date nights. Before things turned sour.

So here you are, staring up at the house you once longed to raise your children in as the front door swings open and Steve appears, rushing down the steps as a wide grin pulls at his lips.

“Oh honey, you made it,” he greets happily, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You stiffen at his touch, desperate to push him away but you hold your nerve, instead returning his smile when he retreats. “How was the train ride?”

You’d been living in the city since the separation, eager to put as much distance between the two of you, and so far it was doing the trick.

“It was fine, thank you,” you reply politely as he reaches to take your overnight bag, turning to take two porch steps at a time. You follow nervously, unnerved by his overly kind demeanour.

“Great,” he dismisses quickly, before calling over his shoulder, “so I set up the guest bedroom for you, y’know, remember, the one across the hall from the nursery.”

He’s babbling excitedly like you’re coming home for good, and you feel like you have to interject before he’s forcing you to pick out new China patterns for the dinnerware.

“Steve—”

He glances back at you. “Hm?”

“Maybe I should stay at the hotel like we planned,” you say hesitantly, not missing the way his jaw ticks.

“Don’t you want to stay here? In our home?”

The emphasis on ‘our’ makes you wince, but you do your best to hide it. 

“It’s not that, um, I just think it might be prudent given our impending situation, that we should, maybe set some boundaries?”

Your soon-to-be-ex husband laughs, “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

Years ago, that almost overly confident scoff would’ve had you reeling with arousal, but now it simply fills you with dread.

-

“Are we not going to Romanoff’s now?” you call out, smoothing out your dress as you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of the dinner table set with two place settings.

Steve appears from the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses, and smiles when his eyes land on you.

“Wow, you look... wow,” he compliments with a deep exhale.

A creeping heat blooms in the pit of your stomach, slowly weaving its way up your spine until it settles beneath the skin in your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you fluster.

Steve moves from where he stands, gently placing the glasses and bottle down onto the table. You step from the last stair, edging slowly towards it. You have to admire the attention to detail— the vase full of tulips in an array of colours, the stack of takeout boxes from your favourite Chinese restaurant, its emblem clear on the cardboard, and of course, the gentle soundtrack of love songs playing quietly through the sound system. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he planned this out from the start, but you quickly squash down your suspicions almost intrigued to see what else he has up his sleeve.

“So, what happened to the restaurant?” you begin to question, rounding the table as Steve lays out the cartons next to your respective places.

“What about it?”

“I thought we had a reservation there.”

You watch him move a fork with the tip of his index finger about a centimetre closer to the plate, and you can tell he’s purposely avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, I couldn’t get one,” he replies flippantly.

“I could’ve sworn you said you did.”

Steve shrugs, “Nope. Fully booked.” He finally looks up at you, brow furrowed. “I thought I told you that?”

“No, you—” you stop yourself mid-sentence, and shake your head, deciding right now is really not the time to pick an argument. “Never mind, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Steve flashes you a wide smile, and pulls out a chair for you like the gentleman that he is— was. This show might easily convince someone else he’s a good man, but it just proves to you how flawlessly he can act the part when needed. 

“C’mon sit down, food’s getting cold,” you hear him say, his voice dragging you from your temporary reverie, and you slide into it without a word.

-

Hours go by, and you hate to admit that you’re enjoying Steve’s company more than you had in years. He’s charming in all the ways you remember, and it’s difficult not to fall for it.

It starts with longing looks over the rim of wine glasses while in the midst of reminiscing about the slew of disastrous dates you’ve shared over the years. Then came the accidental touches as you both reach for a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. And laughter soon comes naturally as you recall a particular trip to Atlantic City, remembering how the poorly cooked shellfish at an All You Can Eat had made you both sick. 

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Steve sighs softly. 

“Yeah, we did.”

“Some pretty great times too,” he adds, and shifts closer to you, sliding his hand across your thigh. You glance up, catching his eye and before you know it, his lips slam against yours. You lose yourself in the moment, hands snaking around his neck as Steve groans into the kiss, pulling you quickly into his lap. You grind down hard, feeling the pure muscle of his thigh push against your cunt, whimpering as it rubs over your clit just right. 

His hands rove your body through your dress, one slowly coming to rest at the nape of your neck, while the other settles around your waist, using the grasp he has to help control the roll of your hips. 

“God, Y/N,” Steve moans into the juncture of your neck, and the sound of his voice suddenly brings you back to your senses. You pull away, staring down into bright cerulean before you hurriedly begin to climb off his lap.

He looks confused as you slump back onto the couch next to him, breathless. “What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t,” you explain, “I mean, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He slowly exhales through kiss-swollen lips, nodding in agreement. “No, you’re probably right.”

As you adjust the straps of your dress Steve had hastily slid from your shoulders, you watch him stand from his seat and not-so subtly rearrange his pants before grabbing the empty wine glasses from the table.

“How about one more before we call it a night?” you hear him shout as he heads back into the kitchen.

“I should go to bed,” you say firmly. “Have to get up early to get the train back, work is pretty hectic at the moment.”

You push yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, and in the process of smoothing out your dress, you catch sight of Steve pouring you another drink anyway. You’re about to protest when he returns to the living room, handing you the glass.

You put your hands up to resist. “Really, I’m fine, Steve.”

“C’mon darling, we may never see each other again after tonight. Just give me this, please?” His tone is too mirthful, too full of glee and it unnerves you.

Darling?

You sit back down, and thanks to his persistence, you now feel a little on edge. He tries to make conversation, and you do your best to humour him, but all you can summon up are one word answers and nonchalant responses.

“I’m a little insulted you’re not drinking your wine,” he suddenly announces casually. “I even made sure to get your favourite.”

Wrong.

This was white. It had been white all evening.

Red was your favourite.

Glancing down into the glass, the wine swills gently from the motion of your hand, and your eyes are drawn to an odd film on the surface of the liquid. What is that? Perhaps the glass was dirty in some way and it reacted with the alcohol?

You squint a little as if it will miraculously make your eyesight better, but without bringing it right up to your nose and drawing attention to it, you can’t be exactly sure what it is. Instead, you decide to rest the glass in your lap and hope that Steve won’t notice you’ve yet to take a sip.

Your eyes move from the centre of the glass to the outer edge, and you notice a sprinkling of white powder dusting the rim. No, that’s not... it can’t be— he wouldn’t.

Fear grips your heart like an icy vice, and your legs suddenly go numb as a horrific realisation dawns on you.

“Is something wrong?” he enquires, watching you intently from over his glass as he sips on his own.

“No, just,” — your eyes flicker down without even realising it, before they find their way back to Steve’s, and you can tell he knows you’ve noticed something is awry— “think I’ve had my share for the night.”

Leaning forward, you slide the glass back onto the coffee table, and the moment Steve’s eyes too clock the powdery substance, his demeanour changes instantly.

“Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he comments darkly.

You cough, clearing your throat and try your best to sound convincing. “See what?” you squeak.

The silence between you is deafening as you both weigh up when the other is likely to react. Deciding now is your moment, you jump off the couch despite the lack of feeling to your legs and attempt to flee, but Steve is too fast. His fingertips graze your ankle as he reaches for it, and you fall to the floor with a loud thud.

He grabs at your shoulder, and flips you onto your back, crawling up the length of your body on his knees, effectively caging you beneath him. You lift your arms, slapping at Steve’s biceps to fight him off as he grabs at your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

“You really thought you could walk away from me?” He leans over you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “That you could divorce me?”

“Steve, you don’t have to do this,” you plead.

“Oh, but I do.”

“Nobody has to know this happened, I’ll just take the papers and leave.”

His laugh is quiet and mean. “You can try, but you’ll have to sieve the ashes out of the fireplace.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face at his words. 

“Please,” you implore, “just let me go.”

“Are you insane?” he scoffs. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Your husband shifts above you, using one knee at a time to move between your parted thighs to keep them spread while one hand keeps hold of your wrists, the other working its way down your body until it reaches the hem of your dress. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Gently, you start to sob, and for a moment you think you see a flicker of remorse in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Because we’re meant to be together, silly. Why else?” he says in a honeyed tone, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For better, for worse, ‘til death do us part, remember? Do our vows mean nothing to you?” 

“They did once,” you strain beneath him, “right up until you started controlling my life.” 

He lets out an airy chuckle, like you just told him the funniest joke in the world. “You’re confused, sweetheart. I did all of that to protect you, I only wanted what was best for you.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit. 

His features harden, eyes clouding over from stunning blue to inky navy. “Watch your language.”

Cold air kisses your flesh as Steve roughly tugs your dress up around your waist. You try to close your legs, however his knees are pressed so tightly to the insides of your thighs that it’s impossible. He takes a moment to glance down at your clothed pussy before letting out a deep laugh. 

“I dunno, you come here all dressed up like this,” — his fingers delicately skim under the string of the thong that’s snug against your hip— “and you really expect me not to take what’s mine?”

“I d-don’t...” you splutter, “belong to you.”

He chuckles, and brings your restrained hands down, and shoves your wedding ring in your face, the subtle diamond sparkling in the low light like a fucking traitor. 

“I think this says you do, honey.”

As you blink away the tears in your eyes, he moves your hands back above your head, the fingers of his free hand teasing the black lace of your panties, moving it to one side to allow him access. You try to wriggle up the floor, but he has you pinned too tight. Steve fumbles between your legs briefly, and the dull snap of his belt buckle releasing meets your ears. Quickly, you feel the head of his cock press hot and wet against your folds, and swallow deeply, ashamed by the pool of arousal slick between them.

“And because you’re my wife that means I can take this sweet, little cunt whenever the hell I damn well please.” 

He enters you in one, sharp thrust, your body betraying you as your walls hungrily allow for his girth. 

“That’s more like it,” he praises, rutting forward and you let out a strangled moan. “Always were a whore for my cock.”

Your words trap in your throat as he fucks you— slow,  deliberate strokes that make your thighs tremble either side of his. He knows what he’s doing, using his intimate knowledge of your body to drag every painstaking ounce of pleasure from you, whether you want it or not. He lets go of your wrists, and while the opportunity to lash out at him is strong, all your fight has evaporated. Steve suddenly shifts above you, leaning back on his haunches to prop your ass up onto his thighs. Your body reacts involuntarily at the change in depth, unsuccessfully swallowing down a scream, which merely serves to turn him on even more. 

Each thrust of Steve’s hips draws you closer to coming, and even though you try your hardest to concentrate your thoughts elsewhere, it’s no use. His thumb settles over your clit, swirling it in lazy circles as he continues to impale you on his cock.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Fuck, you’re not going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“Stop, Steve, please,” you beg pathetically, unable to tell if you’re begging him to leave you alone, or that you wish he’d shift his caress a millimetre to the right so that you can reach delirium.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Cum for your husband like the good, little obedient wife you are?” he taunts, every swipe of his thumb coaxing you closer. 

You can feel it, right on the edge of your periphery. A slow ascent, then suddenly the coil inside you snaps, the whole room thrown off kilter as you shatter into a million rapturous pieces. 

Steve fucks you through it with levity, every euphoric wave of pleasure magnified as he hits that same sweet spot over and over until your vision whites out, and you’re coming again without warning. 

“See? See how good I make you feel,” he says as you return from your high, body still trembling around his cock. “I know you, inside and out.”

Dragging his hand away from your clit, he strokes it lovingly over your exposed stomach, and the gentleness of his touch makes you want to retch. 

“Just wait ‘til I pump a baby into this belly,” he smiles. “Then we’ll be part of each other forever.”

Your eyes widen, believing you have him foiled in his plan thanks to the bottle of pills stashed in your overnight bag, but somehow he inexplicably knows what you’re thinking, and the next words out of his mouth make your blood run cold.

“Oh sweetheart, I swapped out your birth control for vitamins months ago.” 

***

Marvel: @adreamemporium​​ @andreasworlsboring101​​ @clemanime​​ @cake-writes​​ @chamberofsloths​​ @caringparker​​ @caspleasesavemyass​​ @caffiend-queen​​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​​ @doctor-hp-mcu​​ @deanwinchesterswitch​​ @fanngirl19​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​ @imanuglywombat​​ @joseyrw​​ @la-cey​​ @negans-wife​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​ @the-iceni-bitch​​ @threeminutesoflife​​ @stargazingfangirl18​​ @smokeandnailz​​ @superblychaoticdragon​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​

Forever: @akumune​​ @amandamdiehl​​ @buttercandy16​​ @crashdevlin​​ @castiel-has-bees​​ @daughterofthenight117​​ @donnaintx​​ @danneelsmain​​ @dandywinchesterbras​​ @dumbbitchenergy17​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​ @doozywoozy​​ @foxyjwls007​​ @hurricanerin​​ @hoewkeye​​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​ @ilovefanfic86​​ @itsjustfics​​ @itsthedoctah10​​ @imyournewfairygodmother​​ @imcastiel-youassbutt​​ @jewelswrites-ish​​ @jenmisheels-bi-kid​​ @letsby​​ @letsdisneythings​​ @multi-fandom-fanfiction​​ @maddiepants​​ @mogaruke​​ @my-fav-imagines-17​​ @nightsbite​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @pink1031​​ @princessmisery666​​ @petitgateau911​​ @randomparanoid​​ @ssworldofsw​​ @sambucky8​​ @sea040561​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @sweeterthanthis​​ @softie-socks​​ @slutformarvelmen​​ @that-one-gay-girl​​ @warriorqueen1991​​ @xoxabs88xox​​ @zpandaqueen​​

[tender-rosiey]

my love isn’t big antics like others

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.01k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: god i finally posted something; i apologize for my hiatus, life has been getting quite hectic for me and i was busy with a lot of stuff. i do hope i can start posting more once again, because i truly did miss writing and tumblr :( anyways here is my fic for the inquiry into love collab of @ufo-ikawa ☺️💕

sakusa never liked obnoxiously and unnecessarily loud people.

per example is his teammate, atsumu miya. he was too energetic, theatrical and too cinematic for his liking; he didn’t get how he felt so comfortable being like that in front of everyone.

he also didn’t like unnecessarily giant events and celebrations for something insignificant, and he didn’t see the need in sharing every single moment of his life with the world.

he believed that the things that really matter should be cherished behind closed doors to protect them from the envious gazes of others. however, he sometimes worries. what if you want to be shown off like no other? what if big antics is what you desire? is he denying you something that could make you ten times more happy than you are now?

and while those thoughts plague his mind, sakusa still tries his best to show and remind you of just how much he does love you, and that he doesn’t need exhilarating antics and actions to prove that he is worthy of you. he just hopes that you notice his subtle ways and many trials.

he hopes you notice how tidy he keeps your house, and how he tried his best in his plays to provide you with the best life and entertainment; because what’s the point of a hot husband if you can’t admire him?

it never ceases to make him chuckle, how you are at awe when he unintentionally and sometimes even intentionally flexes his muscles. it fills him with pride, because the fact that your eyes are on him and only him just sends him to cloud 9.

also he hopes you notice how your favorite breakfast is always beside the counter with a small note, and even the note is simple. it is short and to the point, much like it’s writer, perhaps except in the first part. it either contains a reminder to take care of yourself and to do that one task you couldn’t remember or a small “i love you” that screams stability and genuine feelings. because yes, once again, he does love, he does care, he hugs and he does try to make it into a flare that never fails to want you but he does it all in his way.

a way that’s just subtle and quiet.

and while some people see laundry as a burden and a hell of a chore, he sees it as a time to just relax and disconnect from the real world. “why?” they all might ask; it’s because when you do something with love and with the want to do it not with force, it’s just more accepting.

plus he couldn’t even if he tried to be bothered by it, because ,in his eyes, the look of your face when seeing that your things are clean and you don’t have to clean and fold them just ends up making his day. so it’s a win-win situation for the great sakusa kiyoomi.

it might seem rather insignificant to some or rather unnoticeable but sakusa never lets you walk beside cars. he pulls you to the sidewalk and stays on the side where cars just barely pass him, because he can’t handle seeing you get hurt. you noticed this, and tried to tell him that you care as much about him as he does for you and would prefer if he also didn’t get hurt. however, he didn’t budge and kept doing it till today.

sakusa isn’t a fan of cooking either. he can cook a few decent meals, but that’s all he can do. it got to a point in your relationship when you got back from home too exhausted to eat, even more prepare something and just went straight to bed. countless nights went on the same way till he had enough, sakusa decided to try and cook.

though not all things have sakusa as their number one man. hence why one day you were greeted by a sight you never thought you would see: your boyfriend who is famous for being serious was wearing that one pink flowery apron you got as a gift and was covered head to toe in flour for some reason.

apparently he was trying to cook a burger, and he accidentally opened the cabinet only to be kissed by a soon-to-pop bag of flour. you also noticed the burnt pans that had evident trials of trying to scrub them back to shape.

you couldn’t help but laugh your heart out, forgetting about your bad day, and go and help him; you failed to notice the soft smile he had on his face as you were wearing your own apron. love does indeed turn even the smartest ones to fools, doesn’t it?

however, sakusa doesn’t know whether he wants you to notice this one thing or not. it’s one of those things that happen in a fleeting moment, something so soft you can barely notice it.

so when you are sleeping soundly, in the comfort of your lover’s embrace, he places a small kiss to your forehead. and still wonders whether he wants you to know just how much he has done for you.

he could swear to every single human being that he isn’t whipped, that he doesn’t go beyond what everyone thought he would be like so he can see your smile even once.

sakusa’s love can’t be seen in crowded places, in places he knows every eye is watching, waiting to revile you both in their hearts. he believes that even in secret or behind your back, you are someone who doesn’t deserve the hatred they show inside. that’s why he waits.

he waits until you go back home so he can make your life even a little easier. maybe wash a few dishes, prepare you a meal, make sure your new car is well and with no scratches. it’s all for you. small or even big yet unnoticeable acts that he does that show just how deep his love runs. he just wishes you know it too.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15 @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In between the city walls of dying dreams

This if for @buckyownsmylife​​ 2k challenge. I chose the character Andy Barber and the AU ex-con.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); somnophilia, drugging, breeding, oral, fingering.

This is dark! (ex-con) Andy Barber x shy!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: One night, you’re saved by the last person you expect, but you don’t know that he’s only saving you for himself.

Note: So I woke up at like 4am and couldn’t sleep. My biggest mistake during my insomniac fits are scrolling tumblr and then I see a writing challenge and decide, hey I hate myself enough to write 6k+ words for a tatted up Andy Barber so here we are.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The streets were shiny and slick as the rain pattered across the pavement and the eaves trickled loudly. The door of the convenience store chimed as you stepped out into the drizzle with a plastic bag hanging from your elbow. It was late and you were eager to be home after a ten-hour shift, your return delayed by your visit to the shop.

A man stood beneath the beaming ‘lotto’ sign and you kept your head low as you passed him. He kept his hood up but you recognized the grey sweater. You had waited behind him as he paid before you and offered only grumbles to the cashier. You weren’t too talkative yourself although the clerk recognized you from frequent visits. You only lived a block away and it was one of the only places open after your evening shifts.

Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you passed by the alleyway you took in the daytime, keeping to the halo of the streetlights along the grimy stretch. You had no illusions about the neighbourhood and it often reminded you of its vices. If you kept quiet and faded into the background, it couldn’t eat you up. Living downtown meant that you had to learn to ignore the alarm bells in your head and just keep going. Be vigilant but don’t be bold.

As you cleared the mouth of the alley, you heard footsteps emerge behind you. You picked up your pace and gripped the strap of your purse slung across your torso. You pulled out your phone and angled it to see the shadow following you.

There was a shawarma shop on the next corner. You could hide out there until the creep got tired and left. It was your usual trick and the owner, Mo, was especially skilled at scaring away the rabble. 

The man got closer and you gulped. You would have to start running if he got any closer. You thought of swinging at him with your plastic bag, the bottle of vitamin water would give him a good knock. You walked faster and squeezed your phone as you brought up the dial pad. There was no one you could call who would get there fast enough.

You tripped and felt the hand on your arm. You were spun back against the wall and you threw your bag around to hit your accoster. It bounced to the ground as it was batted away and the plastic bag tore in half. The bottle of vitamin water rolled over the curb and your can of soup was dented on impact. The candy bar was tangled in the white plastic and you were trapped against the brick.

“Wallet.” The man’s knife slid from the handle with a threatening whisper. “Phone!”

He wrestled your cell from your grasp as the blade kept you from resisting. He cut the strap of your purse and yanked it free from your body. Shit. That can of soup would likely be your only meal for the rest of the week… if he didn’t stab you anyway.

You readied yourself for the worst but it never came. You were suddenly released as the man was shoved away from you and the blade clattered to the ground. The stranger in the grey hood kicked his ass so he sprawled across the pavement and bent to grab the blade. He retracted it and booted the mugger a second time.

“Stay down.” He warned as he knelt to pick up the can of chicken and rice and the dark chocolate. He fished the vitamin water from the gutter but the seal had broke and it was mostly gone.

The mugger groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. The other man stood and pushed down on his back with his thick sole until the attacker was on his stomach.

“I’m gonna crush your ribs if you don’t get outta here. Now.” He jabbed the mugger’s side sharply. “Go!”

The man scrambled up to his feet and wheezed. He stumbled away and the other watched him until he disappeared. Finally, he turned to you and held out your goods. You took them shakily and shook your head at the vitamin water. He bent to grab your purse and your phone and held them out in turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and took them shyly. You never said much to anyone but even if you tried, you expected your voice wouldn’t rise. You huffed at the broken strap of your bag and the scratch across the back of your phone. The screen protector was a spider web of cracks and you were thankful it wasn’t entirely fucked.

You clung to everything and warily sidestepped the man. You dropped the wet bottle in the stinking bin behind him and turned back. You looked at him and froze. He was taller and broader than the man who attacked you. He still held the knife and could do worse.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine.” He slid the knife into his pocket. “He didn’t cut you?”

You shook your head again. Even as his face was shrouded in shadows, you couldn’t look directly at the man. You never really looked anyone in the face, you often spoke to their shoes or the void above their heads.

“You live far?” He asked and again he received a negative gesture. “You want me to walk you? Or I can watch?”

Your eyes widened at the spatter of rain against the concrete.

“Miss,” he said with exasperation.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whispered as if convincing yourself too.

You slipped past him quickly and he stepped back with a surprised stammer. Your soles slapped the pavement as you rushed away from him. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t as bad as the other man. He might follow you home and try to get even further.

But he didn’t pursue you. You didn’t hear his footfalls behind you, only the steady fall of rain.

“Good night,” you heard quietly as you got to the corner. 

You didn’t look back and kept on around the bend. You sprinted all the way to your building at the end of the side street and fumbled for your keys at the door. You took a breath when you were inside at last. You were lucky but not many downtown were. That wouldn’t happen again.

🌆

After your close call, you didn’t return to the convenience store for several days and you only did so in the daylight. You had a rare day off and the spree of rain finally ceased. The sun beat down on the buildings and reflected hotly off the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to do, or much you could afford to do, so you didn’t do much in your free time.

You had to get out of your apartment, had to enjoy the nice day before you were once more trapped behind a desk. You walked up to the store and grabbed an ice cream bar from the freezer. You paid in change and claimed your treat with a tight-lipped smile.

As you approached the door, it swung outward and you retreated before you could collide with the other body. You muttered a sorry and stood aside as you waited for your path to clear.

“Hey,” the deep voice was familiar and sent a chill through you. “It’s you.”

You looked up at the man as the ice cream added to the cold flow through your veins. The same grey hoodie and broad shoulders. The man’s deep blue eyes shone beneath his tidy undercut and a thick beard trimmed his chiseled jaw. He was less sinister than the shadow you met days before.

Your eyes quickly flitted away as you remembered yourself and you looked at the door. You nodded as you cleared your throat. Speak, goddamnit.

“Thanks…again,” you croaked weakly. “S-sorry, I’m in your way.”

You tried to step around him but he was still firmly planted in front of the only exit.

“Wait,” he said gently, “Hey, I… don’t wanna seem weird but I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me,” you said quietly to his shoes.

“Yeah, but that’s a scary thing to deal with.” His voice was firm but comforting, almost warm. Your eyes clung to the tattoo between his thumb and index finger.

“But…” you swallowed, your ice cream would start to melt soon. “You helped me. I’m okay now.”

“Well, good,” he said and finally moved. “I’m happy I could help.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the door but he beat you to it. He pushed it open and held it for you, forcing you to brush against him as you left.

“Be safe.” He called after you as the door chimed and you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, barely missing another pedestrian.

You crossed the street and stepped over the low hedges between the café and the pawn shop. The small park was oddly peaceful amid the chaos of the city and you didn’t mind sitting under the shade of the fragrant leaves. You sat at an empty picnic table and unwrapped the chocolate dipped bar.

You listened to the birds and watched the squirrels as you ate. You pulled out your phone but didn’t have enough data left to do much. You put it down as you licked clean the little wooden stick and shoved it back into the wrapper.

You flinched as a shadow blotted out the sun and you blinked up at the figure as it stopped before you.

“You again.” He smiled and your eyes fell back to the grass around his boots.

You crumpled the empty wrapper nervously and let out a nervous, “heh, yeah.”

“I’m not… following you.” He said and chuckled. “I know we kinda keep running into each other but I swear, I’m not some creep.”

You nodded and watched his fingers straighten. The ink on his knuckles made you nervous.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

You looked beside you as he pointed to the bench and you shrugged. “Could I stop you?” You uttered.

He turned and sat beside you. He took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of smokes. He opened it and offered you one. You shook your head and he closed the carton, tucking it away without taking one himself.

“I won’t smoke around ya then,” he said. “I’m Andy.”

He held out his hand and you eyed it. Your lashes fluttered nervously and you squeezed the garbage. He waited patiently. You felt the heat on your neck and you reached to shake his hand. He gripped yours firmly and his strength made your wits flurry. You gave him your name and looked down at your lap as he let go of you.

“I don’t blame you not wanting to talk to strangers. Especially around here.”

You stayed quiet and twisted the wrapper around the stick. Your leg jiggled and he ran his nails over his jeans.

“Maybe you’re just shy and that’s okay too. I just thought, well, there’s a lot of shady characters around here and it’s good to have someone lookin’ out for ya.” He scratched his beard and leaned back against the table. “I just wanted to say that if you see me around and you need someone to scare off the other hounds, I’m more than happy to give them a good bite.”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and stilled your leg. You nodded.

“Alright,” he stood and the whole table shifted with his weight, “Now, I’ve said my peace. You take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” you wrung your hands around the bending popsicle stick entwined with the wrapped.

“Oh, and… I think I grabbed the right one.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and you noticed the awkward shape jammed into the pocket. He revealed the bottle and placed it on the table. “I’ll see you around.”

You stared at the label. It was the right flavour. You looked up and watched him head out along the path. He unzipped his sweater as he went on and pushed his hands into the pockets. You pinched your lip with your teeth and took the bottle of water. Maybe there were nice people in the city or maybe you were just that pathetic.

🌆

Back at your building, you were relieved to be out of the sun and the stifling humidity. It would be a rough summer and your box fan would do little to stave off the heat. 

After your run-in with your hero, you decided to take a walk and finished the entire bottle in your casual stroll around the paths and the little creek on the other side of the park. It was later than you thought when you got back and fought with the jammed key slot.

You opened up the inner door of the lobby at last and grunted with frustration. Not only did the slot threaten to bend your key but the door was heavier than you. You climbed the first short flight of stairs and grabbed the old banister to continue your trip up the winding case. 

You stopped as the platform above creaked and as another resident came down with a basket of clothes in hand. You stayed at the bottom to let them pass but as they descended, they stopped a step above you. Your name had your head up and your eyes, for the second time that day, met two stunning blue irises.

“I didn’t know you lived in this building,” Andy said as he cradled his laundry and turned to face you. “Small world.”

“I didn’t--” your words dwindled and you focused on the lip of the basket instead of his face. You didn’t talk to your neighbours, not since the old man had threatened to choke you in the lobby.

“I just moved in.” He said. “My first place since… well, the first place I’ve had to myself.”

“Oh,” you breathed and picked at your frilly shirt.

“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he angled away from the stairs. “I’ll probably see you around. Don’t hesitate to say hi.”

You nodded and gripped the railing as you continued up the stairs. As you reached the platform, you glanced back and he was still watching you. He smiled and finally turned away, heading towards the laundry room as he began to whistle. You climbed the next flight and took a breath.

Coincidences happened but you just couldn’t handle so many at once. Andy had been nothing but nice, he saved you from being robbed and he even replaced what he didn’t owe you. You just couldn’t believe it. 

People could be good, they could be kind, just not in the city.

🌆

Your run-ins with Andy continued. You passed him in the hall several times before you realised he lived on the same floor. Your suspicions were confirmed as you grabbed your take-out and saw him unlocking the door only a couple away from your own. You even managed to drop your fliers on his boots when you were grabbing your mails.

Each time, he was friendly and each time, you barely said a word. He was a curious man. His tattoos labelled him as dangerous but his demeanour was welcoming and compassionate. He was entirely off putting and you lived in the city long enough to be wary. And you were shy enough to be evasive.

You were tired after another late shift. The bus ride had you yawning by the time you reached your stop and your short walk to the building was less than enjoyable as the usual weirdos were out with the full moon. You shoved your key into the slot and swore under your breath as it refused to turn.

Finally, it pivoted and you yanked on the handle as the door behind you swished open and closed. A hand grabbed the side of the door and helped pull it back all the way. You peeked over your shoulder as Andy held it and you thanked him with a squeak before heading through.

He followed you a few steps back as you started up the stairs.

“You work late a lot.” He said from behind you.

“Yeah…” you said as you turned up the next flight.

“You work far?”

“Not very,” you replied as you turned again.

“Yeah, I used to be on nights and that was hell.” He humoured as you pressed on.

Your toe caught on the lip of the top step and you went hurtling forward. You tried to catch yourself and cried out as you landed on your wrist and felt an agonizing twinge. You hissed and turned over, holding your arm as it throbbed.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked as he stooped to look you over. 

Your purse had landed in the corner of the platform and your flat had slipped off in your descent. Embarrassed, you lowered your arm and nodded. “I’m fine. Just… hopeless.”

“Here,” he took your shoe from the step and slid it onto your foot. “Hey, it happens. I almost did the same thing the other day.” 

He paused and you felt him staring. You looked him in the face nervously but his eyes weren’t on yours. You felt a tickle as he pulled your skirt back to your knee. You hadn’t realised how far up it had flown.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as you rested it on your leg.

“No, it’s fine, I--” You waved him away with your good arm and but he took your other gently and bent to look closer.

He tutted as he touched the flesh and you winced. 

“It’s swelling,” he felt firmly along your wrist, “I don’t feel a break but a sprain is a serious thing.”

“How do you--” you stopped yourself. “I’ll be okay.”

“You need to wrap it.” He let go of your arm and stood. 

He grabbed your other elbow and helped you to your feet. He stepped up onto the platform and scooped up your purse.

“You have something to wrap it? You’ll need the proper support.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. You landed on it with all your weight. I’m surprised you didn’t break something.” He insisted. “I have something, I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Really, I can…” you voice fizzled as you tried to steady yourself. “I can do it myself.”

“But will you?” He kept his hand on your arm and guided you up the last steps to your floor. “Please, for my own peace of mind, let me help.”

You stared at the stained carpet as you stopped beside him. “Why?”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He asked.

“I’m not-- I…” You frowned. “I just don’t know you. I-I-I’m just quiet.”

“I’ve tried to know you so why don’t you let me?”

You drew away from him and watched his hand drop. You stared at the tattoos and he curled his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, well, I guess I can start by being honest.” He sighed, “Yes, I’ve been to prison. I’ve been out for a year now, I’m finally off parole, I have a job, and I’m working to live a clean life. Is that it? You think I’m some goon?”

“No, I…” you looked at the floor again. “I don’t care about that. I’m just… I don’t know what to say to people so I don’t say very much.” You swayed nervously on your feet. “And no one ever really tried to hear me anyway.”

“Well, I can do the talking or we can both just say nothing, but please, you’re wrist, an untreated sprain can do a lot more damage.”

You tilted your head back and forth and another stab of pain went through your wrist. You nodded and looked to the wall. “O-Okay.”

“Alright,” he exhaled and nudged you lightly as he urged you down the hall. 

He stopped at his door and you waited for him to unlock it. You stared inside as he pushed it open. You didn’t really know him and what you did know wasn’t reassuring. He was a convict and you were about to be completely alone with him.

“Or I can grab the bandage and meet you at yours?” He offered.

“No, no, I’m… tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

You entered and he followed. He put your purse on the small square table beside the shoe rack and you stepped out of your flats. He bent to untie his boots and left them beside your shoes. He urged you on and you looked around at the surprisingly cozy apartment. It was tidier than yours and smelled like fresh linen.

“I’ll be right back,” he gestured you to the living room and went down the short hall to closet at the very end.

You ventured past the couch as you looked around. There was a degree hung on the wall and you went closer to read it. You heard him searching the closet as you raised your brows at the framed certificate.

“Got it,” he entered and you turned away. “Ah, yeah, they disbarred me when I was charged but ah, well, it’s something to work towards. The old me.”

You bit your cheek as you stepped away from the wall and he beckoned you to him. He had you sit on the couch with your arm up as he pulled a chair close. He unwounded the beige bandage and placed the end against your wrist. He began to wind it around your arm and hooked it between your thumb and index. You watched him work and it calmed you. He pinned the loose end and placed your hand atop the cushioned arm of the couch.

“There.” He said as he sat back. “How’s it feel now?”

“A little better,” you pulled your hand into your lap. “Thank you.”

You stood awkwardly and played with the pleat of your skirt. “I should probably go.”

“If you want to or… I have some wine. It might help with the pain.”

“Oh?” You weren’t much of a drinker but you didn’t want to be rude.

“It was a gift from my parole officer since I can legally drink now. He said it better last me the next year but I haven’t even opened it. Don’t really have a reason to but… so you want a glass or should we say good night?”

You scrunched your lips and thought. You felt as if you owed him; for the night he chased away the mugger and then the park and now this.

“Uh, sure, but just a little. I don’t drink much.”

“No problem,” he stood and you sat back down.

He went to the kitchen and you listened to the clink of dishes and click of the cabinets. You looked down at your wrist and moved your fingers. Your wrist hurt a lot but the bandage alleviated some of it.

“I realised I don’t have any wine glasses,” he said as he approached, “So, I hope you don’t mind wine in a mug.”

He handed you a cup and sat down with his own. Yours had flowers around the rim and his read ‘Best Dad Ever.’

“Got ‘em from the Good Will,” he chuckled, “I’ve been meaning to replace them but you know, work.”

“Yeah,” you raised the cup and tasted the bitter red. You wrinkled your nose and he gave a low snort.

“Yeah, I never really liked cabernet but it was a gift,” he said and took a drink himself. “So what kinda work do you do?”

“I’m just a temp.” You tried another mouthful and nearly choked.

“Like office work?”

“Yeah, a floating secretary. Nothing special.”

“Mmm, yeah, I got a job down at the factory. Another favour from my parole officer but it’s not bad work.”

Your lips slanted as you thought. You didn’t say much but your face was good at filling the silence.

“What? Go on, ask it.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees as he took another gulp.

You mirrored him and swallowed the sour wine. You wiped your lips with your sleeve and crossed your legs. “You said you were a lawyer before, isn’t it kinda… I dunno.”

“It’s different but it’s better than prison.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You looked down as silence laced the air and you didn’t know what else to do but finish the wine. You could leave then. You drained the cup and set it on the round table next to the arm of the couch. You blinked as you felt the buzz of the alcohol already.

“It might just be me, but that was strong,” you said.

“No, it is,” he put his mug down too, “like thirteen percent or something. I think maybe he was trying to sabotage me.”

You tried to laugh but it came out an awkward sniffle. You tapped your foot as you tried to think of what to do or say. 

“Well, thank you but I think I should--” You stood so fast you got dizzy and nearly fell back as you held yourself up against the couch arm. “Whoo, okay, I’m going.”

“Yeah, alright,” he stood too. “It is late, I guess.”

“Mhmm,” you focused on your footsteps as you passed him and he followed you to the entryway. You took your purse and faced him. “Thank you.” You held up your wrist. “I owe you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it myself but… you can repay me with one little thing.”

“Oh?” You pushed the strap of your purse up your shoulder as you slid your feet into your flats and swayed just a little.

“Finish the wine with me. I’m free on Saturday, we could order dinner and maybe watch a movie.”

You pouted in surprise and your eyebrows shot up. “Well, I…”

“Friends.” He said quickly, “That’s all. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the cabernet.”

You sucked in your lip and thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you. He had done more than he should have for you. And you were being stupid. He was older than you, certainly. The short greys poking out at his temples betrayed at least forty years and he was just another person trying to get by. 

“Okay, I can do Saturday. I work till five, just a half-shift.” You explained. “Should I meet you here or?”

“Yeah, we can do it here.” He touched your shoulder and his hand slowly slipped down your arm. He reached past you and turned the knob and pulled open the door. You moved closer to avoid it hitting you and smelled his woodsy cologne. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you backed through the door clumsily, “thanks.”

“Saturday.” He pointed at you and then his temple, “Don’t forget.”

“I’ll… try.”

You left him and felt him watching you until you reached your door. You didn’t look back as you let yourself in and locked it behind you. You heard his own shut and let out a breath. What were you doing?

🌆

You couldn’t forget your promise to Andy. You never made plans. You were content to be alone and watch old reality tv shows and forget about your responsibilities. You hoped instead that he might forget and spare you another awkward encounter. You were never a social butterfly and conversation was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t long for companionship, it was that it was so impossibly difficult.

But he was waiting for you. As you passed his door at 5:46, he opened it and nearly had you jumping off your feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He said, “Just a friendly reminder.”

“Yeah, I just need to get changed,” you fidgeted, “fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Take your time,” he smiled, “any thoughts on a movie yet?”

“No,” you cringed, “sorry.”

“Go on. I’ll be waiting. You can let yourself in.” He closed the door and you went onward to your own.

You pulled out your most comfortable jeans and a shirt that wasn’t too formal or casual. You changed and fixed your hair a little and switched your socks for less sweaty ones. You slid on some shoes and reluctantly left your apartment. You went to his and knocked before you dared to enter.

“So, uh, I know I said take out,” he called from the kitchen as you inhaled the scent of garlic, “but I got a bit carried away.” “Andy,” you kicked your shoes onto the rack and crept down the hall. “You didn’t have to--”

“I haven’t cooked like this in ages. Oh, and,” he turned as you peered in from the doorway and turned back with two wine glasses poured to the brim, “I got real glasses.”

“Wow, uh…” You took the stem and carefully held it so as not to spill.

“So how was work?”

“Slow.” You answered honestly.

“Saturday’s usually are,” he turned back and stirred the frying pan. “I’m almost done so why don’t you go look for something to watch and I’ll be out with dinner.”

“Okay…” you voice trailed away nervously. He wore a tee that exposed the rest of the tats that stretched up his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but stare at the skull that seemed to look back at you.

You went to the couch and sat in the corner. You sipped the wine and it still burned your nostrils and tongue. You set the glass down carefully and turned on the television with the remote. 

You curled your legs up under you habitually and flipped through the titles. No rom coms, that’s awkward, and no horror movies or he’d pull that old high school trick. Maybe a war movie? Oh wait, that one’s about lawyers, that would be good. Or it might make him sad. Hmmm.

You settled on a superhero movie and waited with the intro paused. He appeared shortly with two plates and set them down on the coffee table as he sat beside you on the couch and pulled it closer.

“Nothing too special. I made my own spaghetti sauce though, so much better than the jarred stuff.” He combed his hair back as he set out your cutler with a napkin. “What are watching?”

“I’ve never seen this one,” you said as you hit play and the title flashed up, “Have you?”

“Oh, I don’t really watch that stuff but hey, never too old to start.” He picked up his fork and leaned forward. “Hope you enjoy. I might be a bit rusty. My-- People tell me I put too much garlic in everything.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and sat forward. You took your cutlery and carefully spun the noodles.

You were thankful for the loud crashes of the movie’s opening scene as it meant you could eat and not have to talk. The spaghetti was good and compared to your usual quick and easy meals in a box or can, it was gourmet. When you finished, you wiped your mouth and took a long gulp of the wine without thinking.

You sat back as you grew engrossed with the superheroes origin story and nearly forgot about Andy until he got up to clear the dishes. You offered to pause and he bid you to keep on. He was back in a moment and leaned back beside you. You squirmed and reached for your wine again. The taste was less stringent with each sip.

As the hero readied to face the villain, you emptied the glass and hugged yourself as a warmth glowed in your veins. You felt a hand on your leg as your eyelids drooped and you slumped into the couch. You could still feel the fingers as your fly was unzipped and you groaned as your limbs would not obey you.

The noise of the final battle faded and a heavy weight settled between your legs as tickles lined your neck and jaw, a final hungry kiss on your lips sealing your consciousness.

🌆

Andy’s POV

The wine was potent but Andy was sure to add a little extra kick. Her nerves kept her drinking the dark cabernet and she couldn’t taste the crushed pills through the acidity. He could taste the fermented grapes on her lips though and she moaned beneath him as he rolled her shirt up her torso.

He sat back to make sure she really was out. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and tapped her cheek. She mumbled but only lolled her head. He was done being patient with her. She was so shy it was enraging. He did everything he was supposed to do and she still wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, but she would feel him.

He ran his hands along her figure and basked in the warmth of her skin. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman beneath him? He didn’t like to think like that; didn’t like to remember the past and all he’d lost. He was trying to rebuild and this was the first step.

His hands settled on her stomach. It wasn’t flat and it was bit squishy, he liked that. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would grow. He would be a father again, and a husband. He would be the man he once was.

He shuddered and opened his eyes. He stripped her shirt off completely and bent to catch her nipple in his mouth as it spilled from her bra. He reached around her to unhook the bra entirely and yanked it from under her. She twitched but could not wake as he sucked at her tit and then the other.

He recalled that night on the street when he chased off that other man. It wasn’t the first time he saw her, in fact he had followed her to the store. She didn’t notice him slip in behind her or that he paid for a magazine he wouldn’t read. He remembered how he resisted that night. How he wanted to put her against that wall and finish it then and there.

Her pants slid down her legs easily as he backed off the couch. Her panties tasted like her as he pressed his mouth between her legs. He slung her knees over his shoulders and nuzzled her through the cotton until she soaked them entirely. He pulled them aside and continued to coax her. She came as a ripple flowed through her body and he drank up her unconscious excitement.

He tore her panties down her legs and looked down at her with heavy, hungry breaths. He read that women were more likely to conceive if they were aroused. He swiped his shirt over his head and undid his jeans impatiently. He was incredibly hard and he needed her around him.

He bent her legs, one leaned against the back of the couch as the other hung over the side. He dragged his fingers along her cunt and growled. He shoved his fingers into her and spread them. She was so tight it made him throb.

He pulled out and grabbed his dick. He pressed his tip against her clit and rubbed circles around it. She muttered again and turned her head but he wasn’t afraid of her waking. Even if she did, she couldn’t stop him.

He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed his tip just inside. He gasped and bit his tongue. He could’ve cum at that. He snapped his hips against her and her whole body jerked as he reached his limit. She gurgled and he thrust again.

She clenched around him, her walls hungry for him. He rocked his hips into her and watched her squirm, her eyes flitting back and forth behind her eyelids. He bent over her and pulled her arms above her, holding her hands together against the arm of the couch. He fucked her hard as the entire couch jolted beneath their bodies.

“You like that?” He whispered in her ear. “Huh, this is what you wanted. What you were so afraid of.”

He grunted and bucked even faster. Her body reacted to his and as she came, her juices added to the noise of his intrusion. His flesh slapped against hers loudly as the movie’s effect faded into the background. He grabbed her chin and watched her sleeping face as he pounded into her.

“You want it. You want me. You want me to fill you up.” He snarled. “You want my baby inside of you. You want to grow for me.” He sucked on his tongue as his body began to tense. “I’m going to fuck my baby into you, you bitch.”

He buried his head against her neck and bit into her flesh as he came. He shook on top of her as he emptied inside of her and slowed. He whimpered as he stopped his hip and lingered inside of her. He sighed and panted as he fell limp over her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done.” He promised her deafened ears.

🌆

You were sore and stiff. You were trapped and suffocating. As you rose back to the surface, you felt the weight over you and began to panic. Your thighs were raw but numbed and your core felt hollow. You tried to remember more than the taste of wine but it was all a fog.

You opened your eyes and felt along the shoulder against your chin. The tattooed skin smelled of sweat and you could barely move beneath Andy. As you tried, you felt him inside of you and squeaked. Then the real panic began and you couldn’t breathe at all.

You beat on his shoulders and he grumbled. You felt him growing inside of you and you flailed against him.

“Please, please, get off.”

He shook his head and raised it slowly. He sat up but brought you with him as he kept you around his hardening dick. He held you in his lap and watched you struggle with his tired eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked languidly.

“What did you--What are you doing?” You shoved against him and yelped as he tilted into you from below.

“What did I do? Oh, you don’t remember?”

“Don’t remember? Let me go! Please.” You whined. 

“Come on, don’t be like this. You asked for it, honey.”

“Wha--”

“Oh, you really are a lightweight,” he whistled, “you said you wanted me. You practically begged me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t-- I--”

“Well, what do you remember?” He purred as he subtly rocked into you. “Huh?”

“I don’t--I can’t remember.”

“You really going to do this to me? Act like you never wanted it? Like I didn’t try to resist you, honey, but you wanted it so bad.”

“No, I…” you stared at the tattoo across his chest.

“Look at me,” he gripped your jaw and your eyes flicked up to his. He thrust into you as far as he could and you yelped, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He bit his lip as he continued to fuck you. Your thighs clenched around his but you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“You look at me when I fuck you, huh? Yeah, look at me.”

You covered your face and he pulled your hands away. He twisted your arms behind your back and sped up as he bound you against him.

“It’s alright, honey, I already filled you up nice and good,” he cooed, “This. Is. Just. For. Good. Measure.”

He spoke between shallow breaths and your own heartbeat picked up. Your eyes welled as you couldn’t resist the waves and you came with a pathetic mewl. He pulled you close and turned his face up to kiss you. He nibbled your lip and growled as he came inside of you. 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to stop. When he did, he wouldn’t let you go. You fell forward and hung your head beside his as a sob lodged in your throat.

“It’s alright. It’s what I want.” He caressed your lower back, “You’ll want it too. You just need time.”