#at restaurant job I can just show up without eating first if I need to and just get some mozzarella sticks to eat when I get a free moment

[asinglesock]

I slept so much today AND we're falling back tomorrow so I get even more time to sleep AND I'm only working at caregiving job this month so my work is going to be contained to regular business hours <3 <3 <3

[simpjaes]

FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 

៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::​​​

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 

You shrug. 

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys. 

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.” 

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 

Offense taken. 

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[haunted-headset-alt]

romantic hcs with s/o lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

summary: the title lol

warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: ik this wasn't requested, but I'm upset w/ myself due to the lack of Lucifer content on my blog!

tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on or off of the taglist!) @o-kye @zuuriell @strangleetomz @xxtalulahlovesyouxx@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @average-vibe @back-totheoldhouse

dates w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

dates with this man are THE BESTTTT

you think of somewhere, he'll take you. the aquarium? done. clothes shopping? of course. fanciest restaurant in town? you don't need to ask, he's already booked a reservation for 6:30.

he's OBSESSED with spoiling you in general, and this gets bumped up x10 on dates

you ask for wine or champagne at dinner? he's ordering the finest, most expensive bottle for his love. don't like what they have? he's bringing his own just for you.

^^ "No, no, sweetheart, I insist. My darling deserves to indulge in the finest!"

he doesn't mind you asking for more simple dates without all of the spoiling, though. he'd plead for a bit to spoil you juuuust a little though!

he's bought LOADS of fancy clothes for you to wear on dates, and sometimes he'll match with you! he wants everyone to know that the king of Hell's partner is living in luxury.

domestic life w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

he's big on cuddles. cuddles when you wake up, cuddles when you eat or cook, cuddles while watching something, cuddles while getting ready for bed, cuddles while sleeping, etc.

my personal headcanon is that Lucifer knows how to bake super well (he can make the best sweet treats and pastries), but he's terrible at cooking actual meals (COOKING AND BAKING ARE TWO SEPARATE THINGS AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL), so you usually end up doing most of the cooking for the two of you. still, he'll help as much as he can!

going back to the baking thing, he loves baking dates with you! wrapping his arms around your waist while you try to figure out his recipe for mini apple pies with ducks on them (he'll step in to help you), teasingly throwing flour at you (which turns into a flour fight), letting you lick the batter off of the spoon, etc.

he really likes learning about and watching the films and shows you like from your era. since he's been in Hell all of his life, he doesn't know everything about the human realm, so you talking about your favorite things from the era you were alive in is a joy for him!

you living with him motivates him to do his chores around the house. talking about your days while doing the laundry, humming along to music while washing dishes, laughing with each other while cleaning. he lives for it.

how you two started dating ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

you heard about Charlie Morningstar's plan through a friend who was talking about how odd it sounded, and you thought you'd pay a visit. you didn't think it was odd at all! if your help wasn't needed/wanted, it might be nice to stay.

turns out, Charlie loved having you help out, and so did everyone else! you pointed out how there wasn't a receptionist or front desk person and offered to take up the job, which Charlie happily let you do.

when Lucifer came to visit for the first time, it truly was love at first sight. something just...clicked.

he kept asking Charlie about who you were, what your name was, etc., until Charlie told him to just go talk to you!

the first 'hello's were a bit awkward, but you two quickly became friends! it went from him not being brave enough to even look you in the eye to him following you around the hotel, laughing while listening to the stories you told him about the hotel.

he started visiting a lot after that, which led to him asking you to be his one and only on Valentine's Day!

he was a little insecure and nervous about dating because of Lilith, and it bothered you for a while that he still wasn't able to take his ring off, but after some arguments and long talking sessions, you two worked everything out :)

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[acidxinxwonderland]

you're bound to get burnt

18 plus smut shot! Minors DNI!!!

Pairing: Glamrock Freddy x F!Reader

Summary: On an outing to meet your friends for dinner with Freddy, you find yourself getting a bit frisky underneath the table. This inevitably leads you to a punishment from your lovely boyfriend.

Word Count: 6.8K

Tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Robot/Human Relationships, Public Play (sorta), Female Reader, Top Freddy, bottom reader, Orgasm Denial, Light Bondage, Discipline, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Bratty Reader, Established Relationship, Blow Jobs, Vibrators, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Butt Plugs, you made feddy angy, Dom/sub, No Beta We Die Like Afton, Praise Kink, Large Cock A/N: Long time no see! I have brought you a meal right off the stove, it's a big one too!

This poor one shot has been sitting on the back burner for far too long, finally got the motivation to finish it.

It's not completely polished, I'm quite sicky and my head feels funny. I hope you enjoy nonetheless! <3

AO3 link if that's more of your style: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52475623

Tonight was the night to celebrate one of your friends, Emily, graduating from college. It was just a small get together, you, Freddy and a handful of others were heading to a nice restaurant to share some drinks and talk over good food. 

There was no denying you’re elated, a bounce in your step as the two of you walk hand in hand to the main entrance. Every time you frantically looked up at Freddy you could see his eyes laden with both adoration and amusement, he couldn’t blame you; it was only a few months ago Freddy’s sentience was proven and he gained rights. Since it was all so fresh, the two of you haven’t been out together very often, it was basically like dating a celebrity. 

Yet this was the night for you to dress up and spend time with your boyfriend, who can’t eat, but at least gains gratification for you enjoying a simple pleasure of life such as this one. You had a feeling this was going to be perfect.

The two of you walk into the restaurant and not to your surprise, heads turn. Freddy immediately stops in place once he notices all the eyes on the both of you, leaning down to talk quietly near your ear.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright with…” His glowing optics dart around the room. “All these eyes?” 

You look around yourself, a heavy feeling settles on your chest at the people who were blatantly staring at the two of you or trying their best to avoid the sight. You almost regretted everything, wearing your prettiest dress and doing your makeup, helping Freddy pick out a nice button up and pants to wear. Although you feel a squeeze on your hand from the bear and all those strong feelings are pushed down as you look up to see kind optics. 

“We can turn around if need be.” He was confident in his words, showing that he was willing to do anything to keep you comfortable. 

You feel that familiar flutter in your heart, the kind that reminds you why you fell in love with Freddy in the first place.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You finally say, looking forward only to be brought right back to him with the squeeze of your hand that was clearly a warning. 

“Language, superstar.” His tone was mixed with both sternness and admiration, you give him an apologetic smile. “Although I am very proud of you for pushing through this. We got this.” 

You nod your head firmly. “Yeah we do. Let’s get in there and kill it!” 

“Yes! Although without killing anything, preferably.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes as the two of you finally make your way to the server. You couldn’t tell if he was doing a really good job at keeping it all together or if he truly just didn’t care less about Freddy’s presence. 

Once you give him your friend's name he leads you to the table. It was a bit secluded in the corner, your friends already sitting around the large, round table and looking down at their menus. 

“There you guys are!” Emily says with a big smile, rising from her seat to give you a warm embrace.

“Hey! Congratulations.” You reply, taking a step back to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, couldn't have done it without your emotional support.” The ginger glances at Freddy, smiling warmly. “And you too big guy - get over here.” 

“We are always happy to help.” Freddy envelopes Emily into a hearty hug, leaving a big smile on your face from the heart warming sight.

After exchanging greetings with your three other friends, Freddy graciously pulls out a chair for you. As you take your seat he settles down beside you. 

There is a big smile on your face, you probably looked ridiculous despite the loving look the animatronic bear had on his features that told you otherwise. Part of you wishes it was just the two of you but you know this won’t be the last time you dine out with him. 

Drawing your chair closer to him, a pang of sympathy hits you—wishing he could partake in something as simple as enjoying a meal. He always insists he's content just watching you savor each bite, but you can't shake off the lingering thought in the back of your mind.

“What should I have?” You hum out, enjoying the way your arms brushed together. “All of this doesn’t seem very… Appetizing.”

“Of course it doesn’t, because it isn’t my cooking.” He says in this playful tone. “Hm… Why not the cheeseburger? You always seem to enjoy that!” 

“Mm, yeah, but only when you make it. You really did ruin other people making food for me.” 

He lets out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer towards his metal frame. “You’ll be alright.” 

You enjoy the closeness, his perfect mechanized laugh and the coolness of his metal that invigorates you. It was safe to say you’re utterly in love, with other relationships the honeymoon stage has never lasted this long. 

A waiter comes by to take your orders, he was close to asking what Freddy wanted but evidently stopped himself. It wasn’t long until your food came to the table, your cheese burger looked decent enough. Your friends immediately called you out for ordering something so simple but like always, Freddy went right on their cases, speaking in a matter of fact tone why you chose what you wanted. 

Conversation around the table flows seamlessly and you find yourself having a wonderful time, relishing in the company of others but especially Freddy’s. He was just so close to you, sometimes it made you frustrated how hard your heart still pounds whenever you’re near.

Irrevocably in love is what you are, nothing could hold a flame towards how you feel about him; of all of the people in the world you chose him to be your life partner. You appreciate him and everything he does, and now more than ever you have the desire to show him just how much you worshiped him.

An idea sparks in your mind, a very daring one. A plan that might catch Freddy off guard, yet welcome it all at the same time. With a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you prepare to turn this thought into action.

Your hand starts off by just laying on his large thigh, it was clear he thought nothing of it, but once you trailed up a little more his head snapped over to you. You look up at him to give him a soft smile only to be greeted with a look of warning in glowing blue eyes. A gaze you know all too well. 

There was something that always bubbled up whenever he looked at you like this, a feeling of pure defiance. You turn your attention back to your friends, acting as if you were doing nothing wrong as your hand nudged upwards just a little further. 

You’re getting close to what you desire to touch, feeling your thighs push together at the mere thought of his heavy cock. You are having a hard time keeping focus, your pinkie just about to brush against him until you hear a deep, gravelly voice whisper against your ear, “You know very well you’re playing with fire superstar. Are you looking to get burnt?” 

There is a hard shiver that runs up your spine, the dominance clear in his words. It was tantalizing, fueling your insatiable need to continue.

You give him an innocent look, not only to look inconspicuous for your friends but also to drag out that low growl that rumbled through Freddy’s metallic chest. You drag your hand up, biting back the gasp once you feel how hard he already was through his pants.   

He gives you a glare as your lips tug up into a smug smile. You give his growing bulge a small squeeze and his eyes widen, it was clear he wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.

Freddy’s giant metal paw wraps around your wrist tightly, instead of pushing it off he pushes your hand down. You bite down on your lower lip at the feeling of the outline of his cock, it took everything in your power to not leave right then and there so he can have his way with you.

The plan you had in mind keeps you in your seat, Freddy was easily sexually frustrated, it was understandable due to experiencing pleasure recently. Despite it being a bit fresh to him, he was practically a god in bed. It wasn’t easy for either of you when it came to keeping your hands off of each other. 

So you continue this process of teasing him throughout the entire dinner, you do good in acting as if nothing was happening. You talk to the others with ease, feeling a sense of confidence from your ministrations, it was one of the few times you had power over him. He couldn’t do anything, just sit there suppressing low groans that barely reach your eyes. 

You know you’re in for it later but right now it feels very much worth it. You teeter on the dangerous side, giving him firm squeezes when he converses with your friends, sometimes his words come out strangled, having to apologize and blaming it on a voice box error. 

You keep up this sweet torture till the very end of your dinner, you can feel Freddy’s frustration with you as he gives a short goodbye to the others. You give Emily one last hug before taking his hand to guide him out of the restaurant. His grip around yours was tight, not enough to hurt but enough to tell you that you should be a bit worried about what will happen later on in the night. 

Once you are outside with the clear starry sky above your head you go towards the large van with Freddy. While you pull the keys out from your purse and go to open the door you feel his large hand placed firmly on your shoulder. Just as you look back at him you are spun around and pushed up against the side of the van.

You look up to see blue optics staring harshly down at you, a disgruntled look on Freddy’s features. 

“I should have known you were going to misbehave.” A low growl leaves him after, causing the hairs on your arms to stand up.

You feel giddy from his reaction, clearly your mission was a success but you weren’t done just yet. “What ever do you mean? I’d say I have been nothing but perfect.” You bat your lashes, wanting to fuel his frustrations.  

He pushes you harder up against the van, leaning in with a dangerous look in his eyes that was ever so enticing. 

“You know exactly what I mean. You do realize what’s going to happen right?” One of the hands on your shoulders trails up your neck tenderly before thick fingers enclosed around your throat. He gives a soft squeeze as his voice comes out in a low, dangerous tone. “You are going to be ruined once I’m done with you.” 

He uses enough pressure to restrict your airway, the feeling brings a sense of pleasure to wash over you. Your face grows red, your smile only widening as you reveled in his predatory stare. “Is that a p-promise?”  

“You know it is.” He lets go of your neck and you take in a small breath of air. “Get in, now. I do not want a word out of you until we are home.” 

Freddy’s dominant energy was always overpowering, it was easy for you to fall into obedience when he used a certain tone with you that brought you to your knees. You turn around, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you get in the van and fasten your seatbelt. 

He gets in and grabs the keys from your hand, silently fuming as he starts the ignition and smoothly drives out of the parking lot. 

You begin to play with the end of your dress as a million scenarios go through your head. What was he going to do to you? It had to be good. You capture your bottom lip with your teeth as your eyes fall onto the large bulge in his pants, he was still just as hard as before. You yearned to touch it once again, to feel its outline and hear Freddy to let out the hottest noises. 

“Eyes forward.” His harsh tone pulls you out of your trance, you can’t help but give him a slight glare before looking straight ahead. He then lets out a hum of approval, taking one of his hands off the wheel to place it on your knee. The bear rubs circles into your skin, you know it was his way of telling you that he actually wasn’t mad at you, you already are very well aware he liked playing these types of games with you. 

So what was the harm in continuing it? Despite how good the silent praise you just got for obeying felt, you still had this need to keep pushing it. You keep your eyes trained on the windshield ahead of you, placing your hand on his. You start to guide him slowly up your thigh, he doesn’t move away despite knowing what you are doing. 

Out of the corner of your vision you see him glancing over at you as you inch his hand closer and closer to your aching cunt. 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” His tone was gruff, giving your thigh a tight squeeze that makes a small gasp escape your lips. “You’ve been such a bad girl… I’m trying my absolute best to not pull over and take you right now.” 

The mere thought of him deep inside of you made your thigh tense underneath his touch. You know even though he was speaking to you, it did not mean you were allowed to talk back, yet right now you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“What’s stopping you then?” As soon as you ask he squeezes your thigh again, harder this time, eliciting the smallest trace of pain.. 

“Superstar.” Freddy says dangerously. “Quiet. I am not telling you again, stop making this worse for yourself.” 

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. You finally do as you're told, not saying a thing as he continues to drive the two of you back home. You become more fidgety once he pulls into the driveway, taking off your seatbelt and immediately getting out of the van. You walk inside of the house with him trailing behind you, feeling exhilarated once you look back to see the fiery look on his face. 

“Bedroom.” He demands and you nod your head, turning around and going straight to the room the two of you share. 

As soon as the two of you enter, Freddys large hand wraps around the back of your neck, you shiver from the metal on your skin as he brings you to the bed. He pushes you down harshly, kicking your feet apart while growling out as he pulls your dress up. “I want your hands behind your back, and I want you to keep them there.” 

As soon as you move your hands in position you feel his hand coming down onto your ass. You let out a loud gasp from the impact, your body being pushed forward as you are left with a stinging sensation on your skin. 

“What were you thinking?” He asks, swatting your other cheek. “The few times we are out in public you decide to pull a stunt like this?” Another swat. 

“I-I just couldn’t help myself!” Freddy spanks you again after you speak, causing you to hiss out from the way it burned. 

“Oh? Is that your excuse?” He runs his hand over your now red skin. “That you have no self control?” 

“Y-yes!” You choke out, craning your neck to look back at him. “You just… Looked so nice tonight.” 

He gives you a stern look and you return it with a sheepish smile. He places your hand on your head, shoving your face back down onto the mattress, groping at your burning flesh. 

“Compliments are not going to get you anywhere. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to not ravage you as soon as I saw you in this pretty, tight dress? Yet I was still able to show some restraint, to not risk getting in trouble at a restaurant.” Freddy spanks you again, making you yelp out. “Hold still.” 

You then hear the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you. You feel a sense of nervousness, not knowing what he was going to do with it until he began to wrap it around your wrist. He pulls tight, the leather biting into your skin and causing you to let out a grunt. 

“There we go…” His hand goes up and down your back soothingly, he never fails to give you loving gestures even in his ‘scary’ moments. “I do not want you moving an inch, you understand me?” 

“Y-yes.” You murmur out, feeling your face become unbearably warm as you shove it into the mattress below you. You don’t dare to look back as you hear him walking away for only a short moment, the sound of a cap opening and something squirting out hits your ears. 

Your eyes widen as he pulls your panties down to your knees, letting out a guttural groan just from the mere sight of you. 

“You’re going to take what’s given to you. Not a single complaint out of your pretty little mouth.” 

You nod your head, a small gasp emits from you once you feel something cold and wet push in between your ass. You only realized it was a butt plug once he began pushing it past your ring of muscles. You groan out against the sheets as it goes inside of you.

“There we go, that’s a good girl.” Freddy lets out a small hum, rubbing his hands along your ass before giving it another hard spank. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you, superstar. To think we are just getting started.” 

He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding you to stand up and spinning you around. His other hand grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Maybe you should be a little more scared but you can’t help but think he is unbelievably handsome with the way his optics bore into you. 

“Initially I was going to make your pretty bottom bright red until you were begging for mercy but I realize I need something to tide me over.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip before dragging it downward. “So I’m going to put your bratty mouth to use.” With that he pushes you down to your knees, grabbing your hair again and shoving your face against the front of his pants. 

“This is what you were wanting, right? Wanted the big scary bear to come out and show you your place?” He hums out in a chilling tone, rubbing his bulge against you. “Take it off.” Your brows knit together, with your hands bound there was not much you could do. “With your teeth.” 

You look up, having to stop yourself from giving him a glare before nodding your head. Your face was a bright red, feeling a bit embarrassed as you used your mouth to get to his zipper. You bring the piece of metal in between your teeth, pulling it down to the bottom. Pulling your head back you stare at the red boxers, not knowing where to go from here.

You hear him chuckle above you. “How cute…” He murmurs, running a hand through your hair. “Is this part too hard for you? Need some of my help?” 

You timidly nod your head, breath hitching in your throat as you watch him unbutton his pants and slowly pull it down. His heavy cock springs out, a simulated sigh of relief escaping from him.

You giggle, knowing he was so relieved because of how long you’ve been teasing him. Freddy’s optics then zone in on you, his soft touch turning rough once again as he jerks your face towards him. He grabs the base, rubbing the head against your lips. 

“Open wide, tongue out.” 

You obey his orders, keeping your eyes on his as you lull your tongue out. He guides your head onto his cock, the textured underside sliding against your tongue as he pushes his length inch by inch. He was so big, the girth stretching your lips as he made you take as much as you can. 

His head hit the back of your throat, causing your gag reflex to be triggered. A low groan escapes him from the feeling, keeping you there for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on for eternity. 

“Mm… Your mouth feels so good around me, my precious star, the thought of destroying your throat until you could barely speak sounds like pure ecstasy.” His words cause your already wet cunt to pulsate, yearning to please him in any way possible. 

Just as you begin to feel light headed Freddy pulls and pushes you on his cock with the grip on your hair. He goes slowly, seemingly wanting to watch the way you take him.

Soft groans left his muzzle, although it was clear his patience was running thin as he gradually picked up the pace. 

“There we go, look at you, taking me so well.” The grip on your hair tightens, his hips beginning to rock back and forth. You sputter and gag around him, tears welling up in your eyes while he lets out a dark chuckle. “It’s not too much for you, is it? Mm… I thought this is what you were wanting?” 

He shoves himself as far as he can down your throat, your eyes widening as you feel yourself getting more dizzy by the second. Just as it was about to get too much he begins the motions of thrusting deep and hard, making you bop your head back and forth to meet him every single time. 

All you can do is sit there and take it as he grunts and growls, gripping harder at your hair till it is teetered on the edge of pain. He begins to become louder, one of the many signs that he was getting close. You feel a deep sense of excitement, desperately wanting him to spill his seed down your throat but before you get the chance he tugs you off his cock with a wet pop. 

You gasp out once you are able to properly breath, panting harshly as tears spill from your eyes and down your cheeks. 

His eyes darken at the sight of you, leaning down and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “Look at you ruining your makeup.” He lets out a deep chuckle. “I can’t wait to see how you look once I’m through with you.” 

“T-there’s more?” You rasp, your chest rising and falling.  

“Oh superstar… We are far from over.” His loving caress on your cheek turns into a rough hand around your throat, squeezing at the sides as he leads you to your feet. 

Once again you are pushed down on the bed, Freddy wastes not even a fraction of a second as he pushes up your legs until your knees are bent, keeping you nice and spread for him. There was a glint in his eyes as he looked down at the sight before him, looking at you as if you were a meal. 

“You’re soaking wet.” He lets out a low groan as his finger traces your slick folds, purposefully not going any further. “You poor thing… All of this torture without any form of stimulation, you must be so restless.” Your body squirms as his metal finger brushes against your slit, letting out a long whine from the teasing. You try to push your hips forward but just like clockwork Freddy’s free hand grabs your waist and pushes you back down onto the bed with a strong force. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone becomes harsh, squeezing at your skin. “You know better.” 

“S-sorry.” You murmur timidly, feeling your cheeks heat up as he continues to play with your outer folds. “Just… Just need you so bad.” 

“Well you should have thought of that, hm?” He uses two fingers to spread your lips apart, getting a good view of your dripping wet hole. “God… You’re twitching.” He seems memorized by the sight below him, one of his fingers brushing against your engorged clit. 

A gasp falls from your lips at the small stimulation, the anticipation being too much to bear as he gives your aching clit feather light touches. 

“Such a pretty little thing… Do you know what I’m going to do with this sweet pussy of yours?” His finger finally presses down firmly, not moving an inch as you shake your head in response. “I’m going to bring you to the edge, over and over. Even when you’re crying and begging for release I won’t give in.” Freddy does the smallest of movements against your nub, sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Hopefully this will put you back in your place…” He leans forward, his eyes darkening. “Below me.” 

He withdraws his hands, a long whine of pure frustration leaving your lips from the sense of loss. You are getting more and more pent up by the second, watching him with needy eyes as he grabs the bottle of lube and a wand vibrator sitting beside you. 

“T-the vibrator?!” You frown, feeling a bit worried. “That's so strong…” 

Freddy lets out a chuckle of amusement as he opens the lube and pours it on his fingers. “Oh I know superstar, I know exactly how you’ll react to it.” 

He brings one of his thick metal fingers to your entrance, tracing the edges before prodding the tip against you. You bite down on your bottom lip, spreading your thighs further to encourage him. 

Finally he begins to push in inch by inch, making you let out a pleasurable sigh of relief. He keeps it still, wiggling it back and forth before beginning to push in and out at a slow pace. 

“The urge to skip the preparations and shove right into you is stronger than ever with the way you clench around me like this.” He adds a second finger in as he speaks, giving you a thorough stretch. 

“Mm.. P-please, I need your cock so bad.” You let out small whimpers, feeling yourself unravel from the thick fingers pumping into you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You are insane if you think you have any sort of say in this.” 

You give him a small, cheeky smile. “Mm… I don’t think that’s true, you can give in pretty easily with the right amount of pressure.” 

Freddy’s fingers still inside of you, his gaze turning into a stern glare that made your blood run cold. 

“Of course, even now you have to push my buttons.” He presses his fingers into you hard, a small grunt emits from you. “I wasn’t going to go too hard on you but now…” He uses his free hand, grabbing the vibrator and turning it as high as it goes. “Now you’re in for it.” 

You feel your heart skip a beat as he begins to thrust his fingers once again, yet this time at a brutal pace. Your mouth falls open each time his fingers brushed up against your g-spot and once the vibrator was pressed up against your clit it was game over for you. 

Your back arches up against the mattress below you, an electric jolt cascading throughout your being while he firmly keeps the vibrator down onto you. Your limbs twitch uncontrollably, looking down at him with widened eyes. 

“Don’t have much to say now, do you?” His teasing tone made you want to bite back but the knot forming in your stomach was making you lose all train of thought. 

Your orchestra of moans only grows, feeling the muscles in your thighs grow taut. Just as you were about to be pushed over the edge Freddy stops his ministrations immediately, pulling off the vibrator and halting his fingers. 

He always knew when you were about to cum, he knew every single sign.

Your walls flutter around the intrusion, a groan of unadulterated frustration pushing past your lips. 

“Freddy!” You whine out, trying to sit up despite your binded hands. 

“You stay still.” His command makes you freeze, letting out a huff as you glare up at the ceiling. “You know very well you can take it.” Once he feels as though you’ve cooled down enough he begins to move inside of you again. “Don’t you want to be my good girl? To reap the rewards of obedience?” 

An unabashed moan is ripped from your throat as he brings the vibrator back down, your walls clench down instinctively around his thick digits, the feeling of an orgasm climbing once again. As soon as he recognizes you getting close he stops, leaving you feeling incredibly hot underneath your skin. 

You look at him with glazed eyes, a pout on your lips. “Please Freddy, I’m sorry- ah!” Your words were cut off once he placed the toy back on your engorged clit.

“You’re too late for that. If you wanted a sweet release you should have behaved during dinner.” He growls out in that low tone that drives you insane with desire. 

It was all getting so overwhelming, especially when he took it off once again, only giving you a few seconds to calm down before pressing it right back down. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, unable to keep yourself quiet and still. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this, you wanted to beg for more but you knew it would only make things worse. 

Just as you were about to reach your climax for the fourth time Freddy stops completely, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet pop.

You look up at him with watery eyes and a pout on your lips, shifting in place to feel your arms have fallen asleep behind you from being bound together by the belt. It was uncomfortable, becoming almost painful. 

“F-Freddy… I’m sorry but my arms…” You trail off, looking to the side. 

“Are they hurting?” You nod your head. “Alright, sit up.” 

No matter what Freddy always wanted to make sure you are comfortable, one of the many things you love about him. 

You struggle to sit upright, shuffling on the bed awkwardly to adjust your position to grant him better access. His actions are swift, nimble fingers unwrapping the belt. The moment your hands are released a sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you instinctively reach to massage your tender skin. However, he brings your wrists into his grip, encircling them once more with the binding belt.

A pout forms on your lips from your freedom being taken away, looking up at him to whine. Yet all words on your tongue became a forgotten memory as he pinned you back down with your arms above your head. 

“Did you truly think I would allow you such freedom?” Freddy purrs in a low tone, a deep chuckle admitting from him. “You really do think I’m soft, don’t you?” 

If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve been edged so many times and your brain was complete mush you would have said yes, but now the only thing you could think of was his cock filling you up and making you scream. 

You shake your head. “N-no! I don’t, I-I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Just, please…” You whimper out, giving him a pleading look. 

Freddy brushes his muzzle against your lips, a simulated sigh of satisfaction leaving his voice box. “There we go, that’s my good girl.” He leans back, using his free hand to grab the lube and slick up his heavy cock. “Looks like I finally broke you down, hm?” 

He removes his hand from your own, yet you knew that did not give you permission to move them. You stay still, not willing to risk the chances of getting it all taken away from you as he lines himself up with your entrance. His large hand encloses firmly around one of your hips, dragging the tip up and down your folds. 

“Are you ready superstar?” He rubs a circle into your skin with his thumb.

You give an eager nod of your head, never have you needed something so bad. You keep your glazed over eyes trained on him as his thick head pushed into your entrance, a sharp moan escapes your lips as he sinks inch by inch in. The stretch was just what you needed as his heavy cock pressed into you. Your body stretches and accommodates for his size, walls clenching possessively around him.

“Please.” You manage to beg through clenched teeth, caught in the storm of pleasure taking over your body. Freddy lets out a grunt in response, snapping his hips forward until he is balls deep. You let out a loud moan from the sensation, eyes widening from the feeling of his tip brushing against your cervix. 

“You’re so tight. So perfect.” He groans, pulling his hips back half way before shoving himself in again, keeping himself still. “Just look at you, such a needy, desperate little thing. Finally giving you what you’ve been begging for yet all you want is more.” 

You let out a whimper, a pout on your lips that makes Freddy chuckle with adoration. “You are just too precious. I’ll give you what you want, my little star, but on my terms, you’re going to let me use this perfect hole for how I see fit.” “Y-yes,” There was no more fighting from you, the blistering flames of submission and arousal were too high by now. “Please, use me as much as you need. I-I’m yours.” Freddy seems nothing but satisfied, as a reward he began to rock his hips back and forth. “Beg for it then, tell me how much you need this, how you are here to pleasure me and me alone.” 

“I need it so bad F-Freddy, your dick is all I think about. It’s all I n-need. I want you to use me like I’m your whore.” You were so caught up in it all, so desperate that you didn’t even realize the colorful language you used. To your luck it seemed like something snapped inside of Freddy once you called yourself such a name. 

Freddy withdraws his hips then slams himself right in, if it wasn’t for the hand on your hip you would have been pushed up the bed. His thrusts were sloppy and fast, forcing loud moans and gasps out of her throat. 

“You feel incredible. So… Incredible.” He groans out between thrusts, each one making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

His free hand falls upon your clothed breast, giving it an eager squeeze as your moans mixed in with his. “Want to hear you scream for me, want the whole world to remember exactly who you belong to.” Your head spun, the way he dragged in and out of you at a breakneck speed brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, oh my god!” You gasp out, wishing your hands weren’t bound so you could grab on to anything, to have some sort of anchor amidst this storm of pleasure. “S-so… So much!” 

Freddy chuckles darkly at your words, his claws digging into your hip. “Is it too much for you superstar? This is what you were wanting, you made it very clear. There is no backing down now.” To make matters worse, he removed his paw from your breast and brought it down between your thighs. His thumb wasted no time finding your clit, expeditiously rubbing at the aching bud that made your limbs twitch. Every sensation became magnified - from the feeling of his hard cock filling your depths to the delicious friction of overstimulated nerves. 

Your back arches off the bed, sobs wracking through your body as you are consumed by the intensity of it all. You feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so quick that you couldn’t even warn him besides yelling out his name. Wave after wave hits you like a roaring sea, throwing your head back as you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. He rubs you through it, but of course, he wasn’t planning to stop there. 

“There you go, doesn’t that feel nice?” He grunts out, plunging inside of you with pure force. You writhe and whimper underneath him, staring into blue optics through blurry vision as overstimulation quickly takes over. “Freddy- ah! Freddy please!” You plead, not even knowing what you were begging for. Did you want more? Did you want him to slow down? In the end it didn’t matter what you wanted, you were only able to take what was given to you. Optics staring down at you with pure satisfaction while he quickly brought you to the brink of another orgasm. 

“Please wh-what?” His voice box glitched once he asked the question, a tell tale sign he was getting close. “Please make you cum again? Please fill you up?” He chuckles, snapping his hips into you and making you yelp. “Don’t worry babydoll, I’m going to give you my all.” He leaned in till his face was a mere inch away from yours, keeping that swift pace. “Who do you belong to?” 

His commanding tone reverberates in your ears, fueling the desire that made you yearn to obey him. “You, I-I belong to you! I’m yours, all yours.” You speak between loud cries, your own words not registering as that coil tightens in your stomach once again. “Ah!” You cum again, harsher than the last, your legs kicking in the air as your cunt convulses around him. 

“G-good- Good girl. That’s my good sta-ar.” He only manages to squeeze out his words of praise before a loud groan escapes him. He pushes himself all the way inside of you that causes you to gasp as rope after rope of his synthetic seed covers your walls. 

Your body goes lax against the bed once he stills, panting harshly as your limbs twitch and move on their own accord. It was as if time itself stopped, both of you stuck in the same position while recovering from the passionate moment.  

“Are you alright?” Freddy finally asks, pride in his tone. 

You open your eyes, not even realizing you’ve shut them as you manage to muster a weak smile. “A-amazing.” You breathe out. 

“Good, I was worried for a moment.” Large paws come up to your bound wrists, swiftly unwrapping the belt and tossing it to the side. He then takes your hands into his own, massaging the red imprints. “You did such a wonderful job taking your punishment. I am very proud of you.”

Your heart skips a beat, just like it always does when he says such sweet things. “You think so? I thought I was being pretty naughty.” He chuckles, “A bit, yes. But you caved a lot quicker than what I had calculated.” Thick arms then slide underneath you, pulling you up against his metal torso as his muzzle lightly brushed against your forehead. 

“Calculated… You calculated this?” You ask in disbelief, were you just completely out of it or did he really ‘crunch the numbers’? “Of course I did, on the way home. Although plans changed, I still knew what I had in mind.” While talking he lifted you up, swapping positions so he could sit down on the bed, his cock still embedded inside of you. “You’re unbelievable.” You laugh, leaning back to stare up at him. “I suppose, but so are you.” He places another kiss upon your forehead, running a hand through your hair. “You know I was never mad at you, right?” 

“Of course Freddy, I know this was all a part of our game.”  He always had to check in with you every time, you thought it was nothing short of sweet. “You were… Really hot.” “Yeah? Not as much as you.” He hums, pulling you even closer. “I believe you deserve a reward now, how about a nice bath and then I’ll make you some hot chocolate?” You are clearly pleased by this idea, melting into his embrace. “With a movie?” 

“Of course with a movie, my starlet.” 

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'm in the middle of a renewed obsession with cooking shows (kitchen nightmares, top chef but mostly polish editition hell's kitchen; also, watched burnt, the movie with bradley cooper, again...) and cooking for myself again (not as good...) and my top gun brainrot consensus is

I need a Celebrity Chef! Bradley AU.

An AU where he and Mav still stopped speaking when the papers pulling thing happened and Bradley left for college but when Bradley didn't have much choice but to either cook his own food (alone, without Mav's help for the first time in his life) or to starve on his college budget, he discovered some ridiculously good cooking skills there.

And you know, maybe he started a part-time job in some restaurant that went onto some equivalent of kitchen nightmares and the chef being the face of that show saw something in him and offered him mentoring and then when said chef was offered leading a new hell's kitchen/master chef show, he was there as one of the team sous chefs.

Or maybe he's one of the contestants and he either wins or he is good enough that he catches the chef's eye and gets to work and train under them. And maybe then he becomes new season's sous chef as well.

Imagine Mav turning on the TV one evening to see if he can make the new cooking show into his new guilty pleasure and seeing Bradley's face on the screen.

But I need this AU mostly because I fully believe that when they meet one way or another (either through Mav or sometime before the TGM timeline by accident) Jake has no fucking idea who Bradley is. He doesn't watch TV, he doesn't eat fancy food, and Bradley totally doesn't look like the type (hawaiian shirts, old jeans, too chill, lives in a house that looks like it hasn't had new decorations or furniture since the 80s) so when Bradley tells him 'oh I just work at a restaurant, nothing exciting' he just assumes he's a waiter or a barman or something. At that point, Bradley has his own fancy restaurant (Michelin-starred), regularly makes it onto the TV screens and is a celebrity.

So Jake would do all those ridiculous things before he finds out --- try to impress Bradley by making him burgers from supermarket ground beef, telling him his ravioli is not that good when Bradley cooks for him, taking him on a date out to a hole-in-the-wall taco place, blatantly criticizing his apple crumble because 'it has nothing on his ma's apple pie' and he might or might not have said that Pizza Hut is an okay place to go eat on a date. (And, you know, Bradley was absolutely charmed by the confidence and the dumbassery and everything in general just being so Jake, and it's not like he's a total culinary snob, he remembers how he was raised, etc).

It'd be even funnier if Jake finds out through Mav. Like, Mav asks the team to come to a dinner with his family and Bradley is holed up in the kitchen and Jake like a good southern boy asks if they need help with the food and Mav goes all, "Oh no, don't go in there, he's going to eat you alive if you even think about offering to help. My kid is some big fancy chef, he barely lets me help."

And then Bradley comes out of the kitchen with the amuse-bouche (kinda, it's not like they're in a restaurant...) and Jake has a surprise of a century because one, Bradley is Maverick's son?? and two, he's a chef??

Jake and Bradley have a little back and forth about it and then the whole squad is like, "You're dating the Bradley Bradshaw? And you, sir, your son is the Bradley Bradshaw?" because they recognize him from the TV.

And Jake finds out that not only is his boyfriend his CO's kid, he is also a world-renowned celebrity chef. And then the daggers are 0h-ing and Ah-ing at the best food they've ever eaten and Jake still goes, "I've eaten better steak."

And Mav, who has seen Bradley's rage and heard his rants about people having no taste tenses up until Bradley laughs and says, "Will do better next time, baby."

Years down the line, Bradley always repeats in the interviews that his husband is his toughest critic.

Maybe he's even asked to be the face of a new hell's kitchen-like TV show and one of the challenges for his contestant is cooking something his husband will like. Also, maybe cooking something from Mav's recipes in a way that will remind him of his childhood...

(Bonus points if Bradley is a recovering alcoholic/drug addict person non grata just like Adam from the Burnt movie... also, maybe it was Mav who kicked his butt into recovery??)

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Mitsuri Kanroji with an Exterminator reader from Hazbin Hotel

• Ok, so almost nothing changed in setting and timeline from the original.... But Mitsuri most likely met you the first time through another failed marriage interview.

• You are actually expecting a normal marriage interview and then that matchmaker sets you up with that said-to-be weird daughter of the Kanroji family you've heard rumors about. You two went out on trial dates to test your compatibility with each other.

Mitsuri: "Ah! U-um... Hello, my name is Mitsuri, Mitsuri Kanroji. It's very nice to meet you."

???! Reader: "Likewise. I've heard so much about you, Ms. Kanroji."

Mitsuri: "O-Oh! You can call me Mitsuri!"

???! Reader: "Alright then, Mitsuri-san. Would you like to stroll around with me? I'd like to get to know you better."

Mitsuri: "Sure, I'd love to!"

• During the stroll, she asked you about yourself which you replied that you're just a low-ranking swordsman. You kept your real occupation hidden from her since you don't want to scare her off. You think she's already aware of the numerous scars on your arms when if roll up your kimono sleeve, so it makes sense on why she asked you about your work. Surprisingly, Mitsuri didn't turn away in disgust at your heavily scarred arms and she thought that it was beautiful and complimented you on your mastery in handling your weapons.

• The dates so far has become memorable and the kindness she showed you made you feel a sense of normalcy. You didn't understand why everyone would call her weird. She's very sweet and beautiful. She doesn't show much indifference towards you and other people... Until...

• You began to notice how fidgety she is the more you go out on dates together and assumed that she was getting uncomfortable in your presence. Whenever you visit restaurants, she eats very little even if you're the one paying for the meals. Whenever she walks a bit closer to you, you picked up a smell coming from her hair in contrast to the aroma of the cherry blossoms around you. Whenever you try start a conversation, her eyes drift somewhere and she becomes lost in her thoughts... Almost like she's expressing... Doubt?

• On your last date, you decided to ask her if she doesn't want to be with you and that you want an honest answer. Coincidentally, she asked if you could meet her by the bridge with the river swam by koi fish, for she has something important to tell you. You agreed since it's about time you come clear with your feelings as well. By the time you get there at the agreed location, you see a girl with familiar braids of hair, although coloured. The colour of her hair faded from pink to lime-green on ends of the braids. She turned around when she heard your footsteps and with a pained smile, she greeted you.

Mitsuri(?): "...Hello, Reader-san."

???! Reader: "Oh, uh... Hello. Mitsuri-san? Is that you?"

Mitsuri: "Yes, it's me..."

???! Reader: "I like the new look. Actually, I need to talk to you about something. It's urgent."

Mitsuri: "T-thank you... Um, I need to talk about something too but why don't you go first?"

???! Reader: "Oh no, you go ahead!"

Mitsuri: "I insist! It can wait."

• The uncomfortable atmosphere gave you a chance to speak what's on your mind. You did your best to structure your words properly without offending Mitsuri-san.

???! Reader: "Okay... I want to talk about us. I noticed that you're not really comfortable around me and I feel like... You're not being honest about yourself."

Mitsuri: "......"

???! Reader: "...This has been troubling me for quite a while so please, tell me the truth, Mitsuri-san. Are you perhaps... doubtful of the outcome of our marriage interview?"

Mitsuri: "N-no, no, not at all, it's just...!"

???! Reader: "Are you experiencing insecurities?"

Mitsuri: "Y...yes."

???! Reader: "...Is it about my job--"

Mitsuri: "No! The problem is me!"

???! Reader: "What? Why would there be a problem with you?"

Mitsuri: "I-it's just that... I haven't been honest with myself. I just feel that it's wrong to... To hide your true self from the one you wish to spend your life with. To tell you the truth, I have a very large appetite and tend to eat more than other girls, I have this weird hair color that's makes me look different than the other girls, I have this monstrous strength that I pretend I do not have so I can be approachable like the other girls..."

???! Reader: "... I do not see any fault in that?"

Mitsuri: "Y-you don't?"

???! Reader: "No, of course not. I find you very attractive and you are very lovely person-"

Mitsuri, blushing: "Really?"

???! Reader: "Yes. But you're right, a relationship needs to build trust in order for it to survive. I'm glad that you are honest with me."

• You smiled at a blushing Mitsuri. The wind passing through made the petals of cherry blossoms above you fall to the ground, a beautiful sight indeed. Mitsuri felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Mitsuri, tearing up: "....sob..."

???! Reader: "E-eh?! M-Mitsuri-san! Are you okay? I haven't offended you, have i? I'm so sor-"

Mitsuri, bawling: "No..sob.. Don't apologize...sob... I'm just so thankful that you accept me!... Waaah!"

• You pulled out a handkerchief from your sleeve and gingerly pat her back. The caring gesture made Mitsuri cry even more, almost as if she's crying out all the pain of rejection of her previous failed marriage interview. You have heard of her being rejected by a candidate before meeting her, but you never really dwell on it considering you haven't met her yet. Mitsuri finally calmed down, her eyes puffy and red from the tears.

Mitsuri: "Th-thank you...sob..."

???! Reader: "There, there. It's alright. Have you calmed down?"

Mitsuri: "...sob...yessh...thank youuu..."

• You both feel like the weight on your chests has been lifted now that she expressed what she needed to. But a thought in the back of your head tells you that your relationship Mitsuri is moving a bit fast. Mitsuri just found half of herself... But where's the other half?

???! Reader: "Mitsuri-san..."

Mitsuri: "...Yes?"

???! Reader: "Don't you think that we're moving a bit too fast?"

Mitsuri: "Huh?"

???! Reader: "Are you sure you want to continue this marriage despite not finding half of yourself?"

Mitsuri: "What do you mean? W-wait, are you having second thoughts?"

???! Reader: "...Maybe. But if you want us to get married, then that concludes the interview... I'm just giving you a choice to choose whether you want to be wed immediately or to find your full potential in life first. To love yourself before you could love someone."

Mitsuri: "... I've never thought of that before."

???! Reader: "You are a good person, Mitsuri-san. The kindest person I've ever met in my life. I do want to be with you but please... Choose what you need to do."

Mitsuri: "... I... I choose..."

???! Reader: ".........."

• Mitsuri had always thought that girls like her need to be wed when they have come of age. Few have found good partners that accept them for who they are, Mitsuri dreamt of having that connection with someone. That's why she knows that she mustn't let go of you but... What if she's not ready yet?

Mitsuri: "I choose...To love myself first...I am sorry."

???! Reader: "... I understand. There's no need to apologize. I wish you happiness, Mitsuri-san."

Mitsuri, tearing up: "...sob...You are also a good person, Reader-san.. I'm so sorry..!"

???! Reader: "Woah! Mitsuri-san, there's no need for apologies. Now, now, calm down..."

• The marriage interview ended. The two of you part ways before promising to encounter each other again one day. Mitsuri felt guilty as if she chose her own selfishness rather than choose to be with you. She knows that due to your flawed limbs and lowly rank of swordsmanship, it will be a struggle for you to find someone suitable to be your partner. She can only hope that you find someone better than her.

• Mitsuri met you a second time during one of her demon hunts and you were on one of your exterminations.

• Timeskip to the present where Mitsuri found her place in the Demon Slayer Corp as the Love Hashira. She is now happy and confident about her strength since everyone is very accepting of her... Well, most... She's still trying to find a suitable partner though. A certain heterochromatic man popped up in her head whenever she thought of the word "Partner", making her blush everytime.

• She still has not forgotten about your promise to each other. She wanted to visit you but was left shocked when the matchmaker, who was the only one that was acquainted with you, said that you moved away. He could only give her a letter sent from you stating your goodbyes and wishes for her happiness. You also stated that you had to leave urgently due to an emergency in your hometown. She clutched the letter to her chest sadly and hoped that wherever you are, you will stay safe.

• One night, she was tasked by the Master to investigate the area at a nearby countryside, rumored to have seen recent "demon" sightings. While there's not enough sources to prove that, the Corp must send a demon slayer just in case. Some families had to move out for safety reasons after hearing horrific screams at night.

• The area was dead quiet when Mitsuri got there now that the residents are gone. Mitsuri observed her surroundings... Even with the brightness of the moon's light, the area is covered by thick canopies of the trees and not a single light passed through the leaves. The road that leads here is rocky and has many sharp curves. And not a single chirp from a bird or a squeak from a rodent can be heard... Perfect for a demon's hiding place.

• The pink and lime haired woman searched every abandoned house but found nothing. She decided that she will retire for the night but a familiar stench of blood reached her nose before she could walk away. She ran towards the source, the stench becoming strong and an all too familiar awful aura of a demon is present. The aura reeked of a powerful Blood Demon Art which means that it must be a demon from the Twelve Kizuki! Her grip on her sword hilt tightens and she jumped on a tree branch and launched herself to see...

• ...A demon fighting another one? She lands on the ground and quickly approached the two demons. Mitsuri sees a large cave up ahead behind the demons...That must be their hiding place. The woman unsheathed her sword to slice them, but both dodged her attack. The first demon had a "Lower-Moon Six" engraved on its right eye. It cursed under its breath and ran inside the cave. The second "demon"... Doesn't look like a Lower or an Upper Moon but she can tell that it's very powerful. The demon seems to be wearing a black and white armor, has a pair of large wings, a pair of horns, and a creepy smile on its face. It doesn't make a move to attack nor hide.

• She swings her sword toward it but it countered the attack with a weapon of its own, which are dual spears. The left spear it was holding twists around her sword and pulled but Mitsuri pulled the handle back stronger, making the demon lose its grip on its spear. The demon then uses its wings to fly inside the cave and Mitsuri followed after. The two were ambushed by the Lower-Moon with a modified form of its Blood Demon Art. Mitsuri used her Love Breathing to slice ribbons out of the demon, cancelling the impact of the attack. After doing so, she turned to slice the "demon" next but it was faster than her. The demon flew straight at her direction and she braced for another impact but nothing came.

• Instead of the demon aiming at her, the demon flew past her and used its right spear to stab what was left of the Lower-Moon demon trying to escape. Mitsuri just stances herself defensively was ready to kill it when...

???! Demon: "...Fancy seeing you here, Mitsuri-san."

Mitsuri: "Love Breathing, Seco......Eh?"

• ...That voice... it can't be...

???! Demon(?): "You almost missed this one. Nice breathing style though..."

• No way... Reader-san?!

Mitsuri: "Eh...EEHHH?!"

???: Reader(?): "... Oh right!"

• You removed your helmet and revealed your slightly sweaty but still unchanged face. You smiled at a stuttering and babbling Mitsuri, who is obviously in disbelief. The woman lowered her sword and stared at you wide-eyed.

Mitsuri: "B-but you...! Didn't you moved away? U-uhh...! I-i mean, this isn't what it looks like...! I am... I...!"

???! Reader: "Hahaha! Don't worry, it's okay! I know that you're a demon slayer but I didn't expect you to be a Hashira! Look at you!"

Mitsuri: "W...wait a minute. Y-You're not working for the demon?"

???! Reader: "Mitsuri-san, I literally just killed him in front of you. Of course, I do not work for him!"

Mitsuri: "Th-then why are you wearing that?! I could've mistook you for a demon and killed you, you know!"

???! Reader: "Let's just say... It's a uniform."

Mitsuri: "A uniform? For what?"

Exterminator! Reader: "As an Exterminator."

• The two of you chatted like old friends as you exit the once-a-demon-hide cave and you explained along the way to a confused Mitsuri about your job. She also realized that your weapons are Nichirin blades, so that explains how you were able to kill the demon.

Mitsuri: "E-Exterminator?"

Exterminator! Reader: "Yes, it's almost like Demon Hunting but it doesn't require a job at the Corp."

Mitsuri: "EH?! You knew about the Corp?! Do you work there?! Oh my gosh! I am so sorry I haven't seen you there at all, Reader-san!"

Exterminator! Reader: "No, what I meant was it is a job that doesn't need a contract or payment FROM the Master. Which means that we just kill demons whenever we want to."

Mitsuri: "Then why are you holding a Nichirin spear if you're not employed by the Corp?"

Exterminator! Reader: "I just bought the steel from a friend and made the spears myself. Not bad, right?"

Mitsuri: "Yes, that's impressive but- the screams earlier...!"

Exterminator! Reader: "That was me, sorry about that 😅."

Mitsuri: "W-why were you screaming 😰?"

Exterminator! Reader: "I got stabbed multiple times by a demon but it's all just small flesh wounds 😁!"

Mitsuri: "Where 😱?!"

Exterminator! Reader: "I'm fine. I can't even feel it 😁!"

• You happily say that while the wounds you tried to bandage earlier bleeds through your armor due to excessive movement. Mitsuri panicked and princess-carried you all the way to the nearest Wisteria Station. The workers there weren't happy to see you but patched you up after Mitsuri's pleading. Surprisingly, during the first time Mitsuri met you during that interview, you were poised and collected. But now that your occupation has been found out, you became much more talkative and loud.

• After a while, she comes to understand of you hiding your real occupation since if somebody would marry you, they'd be worried for your life for the rest of your marriage. Mitsuri was impressed by the workmanship of your wings as it looked realistic. The bendable sword she possesses also impressed you as it can slice multiple demons at great speed. The rest of the evening is spent with you and Mitsuri chatting away about what you two missed in both of your lives.

Mitsuri: "I read your letter but I'm a bit saddened that you didn't come to say goodbye face to face. 😥"

Exterminator! Reader: "I'm sorry but it's true! I was in a hurry! I'm sorry I forgot about you... I actually thought that you would find someone better than me."

Mitsuri: "Don't say that! You are fine just the way you are!"

Exterminator! Reader: "I could say the same thing to you. You finally found the half of yourself! That choice you made has given you strength you didnt know you had, Mitsuri-san ☺️."

Mitsuri: "Th-thank you, Reader-san."

Exterminator! Reader: "Sooo... Find any suitors yet 😏?"

Mitsuri: "R-Reader-san 😖!"

Exterminator! Reader: "Seriously, I just want to know 🫢!"

Mitsuri: "Okay fine, but don't tell anyone!"

Exterminator! Reader: "My lips are sealed 🤐."

Mitsuri: "There's this guy...He's a thoughtful gentleman, but he's a fellow Hashira so I couldn't really ask him...🤫"

Exterminator! Reader: "I can already tell that he's a bad one for you, Mitsuri-san 😔..."

Mitsuri: "What? Why?"

Exterminator! Reader: "Well, for mostly part of my job, the only rule is to never cross paths with hunters from the Corp. as we made a truce that the Demon Slayers and the Demon Exterminators won't steal each other's kill. But lately, Demon Slayers have been meddling with our prey for quite an annoying while."

Mitsuri: "O-Oh? How come?"

Exterminator! Reader: "You Slayers kill demons because it's part of your job. Us Exterminators kill demons because it's fun. So to avoid conflicts, we avoid each other 😊."

Mitsuri: "Ohh... but isn't that... um... you know 😟..."

Exterminator! Reader: "Heartless? Your right. It's all part of the job description. If you can call it a job, that is. It's basically a hobby of mine. "

Mitsuri: "...I wouldn't word it that way but I guess you'll do what you do best. Just don't hurt the Slayers and bystanders. Promise?"

Exterminator! Reader: "I promise."

Mitsuri: "I swear to you! The Hashiras at the Corp are not that bad once you get to know them ☺️!"

• After your conversation ended, you watched the sun rising from the horizon. The lilac pink blending with the dark blue of the sky reminds you of the day of your last meeting at the bridge with cherry blossoms in springtime. The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a worker rushing in and telling you both that there was unidentified company.

• You got up and grabbed your spears, Mitsuri following behind. She was surprised to see a group of people who each have horns, a pair wings, holding weapons, and wearing uniforms identical to you. They looked displeased with the sight of you and Mitsuri together and called for you to return to the military base with them and relocate since there's a Slayer from the Corp coming close to the base.

• You reluctantly exchanged your goodbyes with Mitsuri, promising to encounter each other in the future once again. Mitsuri watched as you flew away with your group and after you were far enough out of sight, she packed her things to go home and report back to the Master. She didn't forget about your promise in the future and hopes that one day, you'll properly meet each other and she'll introduce Obanai to you.

• She's become very thankful for your patience and kindness in giving her a choice to change her future for the sake of finding love for herself.

[le-trash-prince]

Exploring Food as a Motif in This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

While there's probably a lot to be said about cooking within the show, what I want to explore are meals and moments where food or drink are shared (or withheld) between characters—and what this says about them and their relationships with each other. This will definitely be a series, as there's a few upcoming moments in teasers that stood out to me.

First of all, I want to establish my perspective that sharing food, or drink, or even a smoke is an act of connection between people. It shows a basic level of instinctive trust—it's a show of faith that you are not being poisoned. Food can then be used in media to show both trust and distrust, to send an insult, or to show care and love.

The opening scene of the series focuses on Plawan's meal at Oab's restaurant. Plawan is eating alone, with his camera on the entire time.

Even though Plawan clearly enjoys and appreciates the food, vocally expressing his delight, Oab is immediately displeased with him, and points out that Plawan is disrupting other guests.

At this point in time, Plawan is not successfully connecting with other people through food (though not for lack of trying, in his own would-be influencer way). He ignores the guests around him in favor of recording content for his struggling channel.

Later, he invites his agent out for coffee in order to garner favors from her, using food as a peace offering that is immediately rescinded when he asks her to help with the bill.

We can see that his agent has ordered a simple black coffee and a water, while Plawan has a more expensive, iced, sweetened drink. Presumably, Plawan has offered to share his dessert with her, but her plate is completely clean, indicating she didn't take him up on the offer. Likewise, his attempts to butter her up fail, and she storms out of the cafe without agreeing to find him another job or to help with his utility bills.

Plawan has attempted and failed to make a connection over food, but his attempt was largely self-serving. In the same way, his relationship with food is centered on his own enjoyment. He says it was difficult to get a reservation at Oab's table, but he didn't invite anyone to go with him, in spite of having a table for two.

This contrasts heavily with the perspective of a chef who makes food for other people, to the point of centering his entire restaurant around accommodating his (ex) girlfriend's food allergy.

Even when Plawan does cook for JJ, they're not sharing a meal together—Plawan is just using JJ as a taste-tester. We don't know if Plawan has even tried his own cooking, based on his insistence that a dish will be delicious, only to have it turn JJ's stomach.

This is as opposed to Nub Nueng giving one of his desserts to Oab, followed by the statement, "If you're selling your restaurant, I'm selling mine too."

The dessert is an offering from Nub Nueng, his way of caring for his friend. Oab rejects Nub Nueng's offer to sell the cafe, but he does take Nub Nueng's advice about running a contest. Likewise, he fails to take a single bite during the scene, but he still accepts the dessert, pulling it closer and picking up the spoon.

As opposed to Plawan, who hasn't learned how to connect with people through food, Oab, however, has lost the connection that inspired his restaurant, and in doing so has lost his passion for cooking.

All he is left with are his unspoken and difficult-to-meet ideals of how people should engage with food.

I plan on doing this for each episode, since PRESUMABLY the cooking show will feature people eating/drinking in every episode. I'm no chef nor an expert on Thai cuisine, so it would be more than welcome if anyone has insight into the specific dishes that people are eating and what those might say. I'm much more of a beverages person, and this was largely spurred on by my need to stare at whatever people are drinking in any given scene.

Part 2 here

[bigolbadblog]

uhhh i'm back on my bullshit

thinking bout. stuffing mr. the duke

okay first off. the capacity on that man? absolutely unbelievable. you can fit SO MUCH good food in that bad boy

he loves eating for pleasure. naturally. but most of the time he's eating for mouth-pleasure more than belly-pleasure, if that makes sense. the flavors, the mouthfeel, even the aromas. he also enjoys the heavy, warm, slightly achy feeling of a true stuffing; it's just that he can put away so much food without even beginning to feel it, so much so that reaching that state of feeling overfilled takes WORK. a feast that would leave you stuffed to the gills is just about enough to bring him to "comfortably full." which is really the most he has time for, on a typical day. what with travelling all over and running a small business and all, he's a pretty busy guy.

but when he does get the chance to fully and i mean fully indulge his appetites.... oh boy. Oh Man. oh boy oh boy oh boy

most of the time i imagine him more as a feeder or a self-feedee. (as a side note, yes he does find an element of vicarious pleasure as a feeder in seeing his partners / playmates get utterly stuffed on a fraction of the food it'd take for him. it's not the same as experiencing it for himself, but it's still lovely to hear them panting and burping and moaning, as well as getting to rub their poor little bellies. plus, it's kind of adorable to him. aw, that's all it takes to get you so full you can't even think straight, much less get out of your chair? how sweet.)

when he wants to get stuffed, though, he gladly welcomes assistance. like i said, it's a big job. if you're cooking for him, prep will take you days. if you're with him at a restaurant or a banquet, it's gonna be your job to make sure his plate is never bare and his glass is never empty.

he's a man of taste. he likes variety in what he eats. he's not a snob- if it's good, he has no issue with polishing off an entire roast ham or a cook-off sized cauldron of chili, repetitive though it may be- but if you truly want to win his heart, offer him multiple courses of many different foods. it's the best way to keep his interest piqued and his palate entertained.

either way, it's gonna. take. hours.

he will notice how flustered you're getting as you bring him plate after plate. and he WILL tease you about it.

you couldn't possibly keep up with him, and you're too busy to try, but there will be several points where you do need to sit down and eat with him. all your meals and all the space in between them go by while he's still eating continuously.

he's a pretty chatty guy, but while he eats, he likes to focus on eating. he's surprisingly quiet, except to praise the food (and tease you, of course).

maybe about seven or eight courses in, you start to notice he's resting his free hand (that is to say, the hand that isn't constantly ferrying more food and drink to his mouth) on the curve of his belly. but he still keeps up the pace as he eats.

because he's so big, he doesn't show the bloat of a stuffing as obviously as smaller people would. which contributes to the impression that all this food is genuinely going into a bottomless pit. but sometime after you lose count of how much food you've brought him, you look at him and notice subtle changes in his silhouette. the curve of his belly gets perkier, with more bulk higher up, and he leans slightly further back in his chair to give himself room to breathe. and still he keeps eating

he's a very civilized eater. cuts his food into dainty bites, chews thoroughly, takes delicate sips of his drink, etc. because of those habits, he doesn't get super gassy super fast. but even so, with the amount of food he's packing away, yeah, there's going to be some air that'll need to get worked out as all that begins to digest.

civilized burper, too. surprisingly quiet, yet a true baritone. at first, he favors letting out several smaller burps rather than singular long belches. he covers his mouth with his napkin each time- at least, he does until he gets so full that a belch surprises him in the middle of a sentence.

at that point, he does take a break from eating to have a cup of hot green tea and let his stomach settle. if you ask nicely, he'll let you rub it. it takes you a while to find the sweet spots amid all that bulk, but you will absolutely know when you get it right. a few more longer, louder burps, but more than that, the sighs that man lets out when you rub him right... 🥵

and then dessert, of course! he'll let you hand-feed him at this point, as it's getting difficult for him to sit forward and reach the food. but he absolutely expects you to keep to his own standards of civil dining. no mess, no rush, no oversized bites. that black forest gateau is so lovely - it would be a shame for any of it to go to waste.

when the feasting is finally concluded, his face is flushed, his breathing heavy, his already massive belly pert and swollen. like any classy gentleman, he likes to finish his meals with another cup of tea or coffee, a cigar, and conversation. (this next part is for those of y'all who like some recognizable sex activities in your feedism:) but you've been so attentive and eager, and he knows how badly you've been wanting him this whole time, so while the water is heating up for that drink (and okay, you set the heat so low that it's gonna take a while), he'll give you your dessert. you might have to get a little creative with positions, though, because...

that man is not getting up when this is done. wherever you are, he's made his seating space comfortable (or instructed you on how to do so) ahead of time. cuz he's gonna be there for a while. after you share a post-meal drink, smoke, and conversation, he drifts off into a food coma right where he is.

just. a truly delightful time to be had by all.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 11 - We aren’t them

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

There's some smut and angst (☹️) in this one as insecurities come to ahead and Bucky/reader fail to communicate properly (sooo unlike them, I know!)

“Bucky…I can’t…” you panted.

He pulled away and looked up at you, smiling wickedly and taking a moment to drink in your dishevelled appearance.

“Just one more. You can do that for me, right Doll? Just give me one more. A tiny, little one” he smirked.

You wailed as he resumed his position between your legs, diving back in and teasing your clit with his tongue and working you over with his fingers. He’d been at this for some time, you were perched on the edge of your bedroom desk with him on his knees - making you come over and over again until the sensitivity made everything feel like it was on fire. You’d slowly unravelled, your body feeling heavy as your speech became slurred and your brain melted out of your ears. He seemed to relish breaking you like this, delighting in reducing you to a quivering mess at his hands (and tongue).

Your climax arrived mercifully quickly and you yanked his head away from you as you rode through it, unable to cope with the feeling of his tongue on you any longer. He surprised you by leaping up and sinking his fangs into your neck as you came, almost passing out at the dual sensation of your orgasm and the feed euphoria. He moaned heavily as he fed from you, holding you tenderly as you jerked and spasmed and sighed against his cold cheek. As you came down from your high he carried you to the bed, gently laying you on the sheets as he pulled you to his chest. You both laid there for a few moments as your breathing settled back down.

He watched you smugly and you sighed at his arrogance, but still gave him a gentle kiss on his nose as a thank-you for his dedicated hard work.

He had been insatiable in the weeks since Steve had discovered the truth, constantly all over you and apparently unable to get enough. It was rare that you were both in a room without him touching you in some way. Now you didn’t need to sneak around, Bucky seemed to be wanting to make the most of it. He liked to incorporate feeds with your bedroom activities, knowing it enhanced the feeling for both of you. Most evenings you’d be endlessly high from the relentless endorphins, sometimes unable to sleep for hours because the adrenaline would be coursing through your veins.

You would sometimes go out in the evenings, to a late movie or to a nice bar (not that he drank, but would order a small, untouched beer to keep up appearances). Restaurants were out as you felt weird eating while he sat and watched, so you would do late night art shows or go to the theatre. Sometimes you just walked around the city, taking in the sights and sounds as he draped an arm around you and kept you close.

It all felt very easy, silences were comfortable and time seemed to slip away when you were with him. Adjusting to a slightly more nocturnal pattern was tricky at first, but fortunately your job didn’t require you to start at the crack of dawn as long as you met deadlines and got the work done throughout the day. And Bucky was very strict about you retiring to bed before it got too late so you didn’t mess with your sleep pattern too much.

You’d told your friends about him who were delighted with this development. They didn’t know who he really was of course, but were charmed by him when you’d brought him along to the bar one night and he’d bought everyone a drink, making an effort to talk to them all. Nat had given you an approving thumbs up as he passed her the martini he’d paid for. Wanda was thrilled you’d finally put Peter behind you, mouthing ‘he’s so hot’ when Bucky’s back was turned.

You were enjoying his company just as much as he yours, infatuated with him and his attention. The sex was like nothing else you’d experienced. Sometimes you could scarcely believe this gorgeous creature wanted to spend time with you, it often felt like he was widely out of your league. And it wasn’t just the physical aspect, you enjoyed spending time with him. You still had your playful back and forth and still ribbed each other. On weekends you would stay up until the early hours just talking, occasionally about his past but not always as he found it tough to re-live. You could feel yourself falling in love with him, and sometimes it felt like he might love you too.

But on other days your doubts and insecurities consumed you like a dark cloud. Was all this only happening because you were under his roof? Were you something fun for a vampire to pass the hours with (eternity was a long time, after all), a warm body to supply him with all the sustenance and sex he could ever want? You were self-aware enough to know your insecurities were probably in part due to how Peter had done a number on you, fracturing your trust and causing you to always be on the lookout for red flags so that you were never blindsided by a betrayal again.

But you had ‘the bond’ with Bucky, right? That meant you had a connection, something deeper. So maybe it wasn’t just food and sex for him, maybe he did feel what you felt? You knew it was a strange idea for a vampire and a human to be together, but your perception of ‘strange’ had shifted drastically since you’d moved in here…

Then your mind would wander to Steve and Peggy. They thought they could make it work but they couldn’t. Was that the inevitable path of all human and vampire pairings? Even if you did have strong feelings for one another, were you and Bucky destined to go down the same route? Were you just wasting time as the inevitable loomed? Maybe Bucky already knew all of this, and was just happy to have fun in the mean time?

You sometimes wondered if the only way you could really be together was if he turned you. But did he really want that? Did you really want that? Both he and Steve had made the most of what they were and how they had to live, but it was clear they would've made different choices if they had their time again. You weren't sure Bucky would oblige even if it's what you wanted. And did you want it? Sometimes you thought you did. But what about your life? Could you really give it all up for him? Would you really be happy if you never saw the sun again? If you lived forever in the shadows, never growing old, never having kids...

“What’s going on in there?” Bucky asked, derailing your train of thought. He tapped a curious finger on the side of your head and you rolled your eyes, swatting him away.

“Nothing” you sighed. “Just tired I guess”.

He rolled his eyes and prodded you in the ribs. “Oh you think I’m dumb, huh? I know you’re working something through. You always get that same look on your face when you are. C’mon, you know you can tell me anything”.

You shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m fine”.

Unconvinced, he raised an eyebrow. “Something is going on in there. You might as well tell me as I’ll figure it out eventually”.

You scowled at him, irritated by his astute perception. It was always hard to hide anything from him. “Fine! I’m just thinking about…this…us…stuff”.

He peered over at you, resting his head on the pillow. “What about it? Are you not into it?”

“No, no it’s not that” you said softly. “I’m having a great time. I suppose I’m just aware of our differences, you know, you being what you are…and me not…and-”

“That’s not important to me” he interrupted briskly, sounding almost offended. “Why, is it an issue for you?” His face tightened and you could see he was getting annoyed.

“No…no of course not” you spluttered, suddenly struggling to find the right words. “I guess I just worry that I’m, well, convenient for you – and that’s a big part of the reason you spend time with me”.

He glared at you. “What does that mean?”

You weren’t sure how this had steered into a potential fight, desperately wishing you hadn’t said anything but also knowing you couldn’t turn back now. Maybe it was a good thing to get it all out there.

“Uh well…I live here. I was your food source and now I’m your sex source, too. I dunno sometimes I just worry that it’s all I am to you…you know, like Steve said. A toy to suck and fuck…”

You regretted your words the second they left your lips. Bucky’s face twisted into a frown and he sat up.

“Wow. Well, it’s nice to know how you really see me” he grunted angrily.

“Look…I’m sorry, you kept asking me what I was thinking and I’ve been worrying about it. Was I supposed to lie…?” you asked, your tone panicked and shrill.

Bucky shook his head, shrugging his t-shirt over his head and reaching for his discarded underwear as he began to furiously dress.

“You really think so little of me, Doll? You really think I’d be doing all this if that’s how I saw you?”

He was angry. Really angry. You found yourself getting angry too. After all he was the one who pushed you to talk, who said you could tell him anything. You were hoping for reassurance, not a shouting match.

“I’m sorry but that’s how I feel sometimes! Don’t yell at me…” you shot back.

He scoffed. “Honey, trust me – this isn’t me yelling, you’d know if I was yelling”.

He scowled at you and you felt a chill run through your bones at the concentrated rage in his eyes.

“Is it because you found out about my past?” he asked, his voice now more wounded than angry. “You can’t deal and you’re trying to push me away? Because I gave you an out…”

“No! Not at all. I’m just grateful you shared it with me. None of it affects how I feel about you” you stood from the bed, his hurt expression striking your heart.

“Bucky…c’mon. Can you blame me? This is all new to me, and you’re not exactly open with your feelings. And what about Steve and Peggy? It didn’t work out for them and they're my only frame of reference, so you can see how I would-”

“We aren’t them though, are we?” he spat back at you, his anger returning. “Fuck, I knew that story spooked you, and I get it. But it doesn’t matter as clearly you think very little of me if you think I’m only here for food and sex”.

“Bucky no, I just-”

“I don’t need anything from you, Doll” he fired venomously. “If I wanted a feed or sex, or a ‘suck and fuck’ as you so eloquently expressed, I’d go out and get it. I’ve never had any problems in that department. I don’t need you for that. You’re fun and all, but never my only option”.

You glared at him, wounded by his harsh words. “I see”.

You both stood in silence for a moment glaring daggers at one another, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You thought you may have seen a brief softening in his face but it vanished too quickly for you to be sure. Your anger rose once more as the full implication of what he’d said had sunk in. How dare he speak to you like that?

“Maybe you should, then” you finally said.

He flinched briefly, his eyes widening at the aggression in your voice. But just as quickly, he found his resolve.

“Maybe I will”.

With that he left the room, slamming the door behind him. You waited until you heard his footsteps fully retreat down the stairs before you started to cry.

[reareaotaku]

AHHH OMGGGG i’m SO happy to see that you’re writing for yandere!SVU!! i would love to see sonny carisi too :) do you take requests for SVU? i can definitely think of some dark scenarios to request! thank you :)

Lol this request came in twice. I love Sonny so much <3 I'd take requests for SVU, I'm watching it rn as I'm writing this

He worries about you. He can't help it

I mean you're his partner after all. What kind of guy would he be if he didn't worry?

Especially in your line of work

He's the sweetest guy in the world to you

Practically worships the ground you walk on

You want something? All you gotta do is ask

His place is always open if you need somewhere to stay/go

He thinks it's nice to have someone near

He'll buy you breakfast

At first, he would take guesses on what you like. He'll start by bringing stuff that everyone likes, like doughnuts, bagels, waffles, etc. He'll take extra note when you say, "Oh, I don't really like those" or "Mmm... ____ would go really well with this." The other detectives/cops will tease/complain about how he only buys you food

He takes note of everything you like. Favorite foods, favorite restaurants. Times you like to eat, what you prefer to eat when in certain moods. It's obsessive

Then, after some time, he'll invite you to lunch. Say you've just got done arresting a guy or questioning witnesses, and he'll be like "Hey, do you want to get lunch? My treat"

It then progresses to dinner, but he always disguises it as him being friendly

He would never admit to liking you, because he doesn't want to risk either of your jobs, but it's so obvious to anyone with eyes

He's a jealous guy, but he's not like violent like some people

He's more passive aggressive. He'll make snarky comments about the person who was getting a little too flirty with you. You'll be taken aback by his remarks

Type of guy who wants children and marriage with you

He doesn't know how he's his life this long without knowing you

He'll use stupid pick-up lines on you, just to get a chuckle

They'll be super cheesy

He invites you to go to Special Events as his date

Wants to go dancing with you. Mostly to show you his dance moves

Total show off^

[carmwavebarebears]

(a/n: hi! i'm not new to the world of fan fiction BUT this is my first post ever and i'm excited. honestly this post does not have sustenance, it's just a headcanon i have that carmy would be avoidant as fuck throughout the beginning of your relationship. anyways if you take the time to click on this you're automatically awesome<3

all the best,

bear!)

I’m just thinking about the first time you spend the night at Carmy’s place. 

He would be working late, obviously, so he’d pick you up from your job or apartment on his way home. Or, if you worked at the restaurant with him, you would go straight home with him, because you brought a bag to work.

When you get back to his apartment, the first thing he does is apologise for the mess, even though the place is pretty tidy. He insists on making dinner for the both of you, so here you are, sitting on his counter, cross legged, watching him stirring a creamy sauce to go with the pasta you asked for. You’re yapping about your day, and he’s just listening, occasionally making a soft noise to let you know that he’s paying attention.

He’d ask the occasional question, in which you’re happy to elaborate, and when dinner’s finally cooked, you both take a seat on the couch. There’s a large gap between you, not just because of the hot food, but because it’s 11:00 pm and you’re sitting in that silly little skirt you like to wear, the one with the flowers, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Plus, you both like the corner of the couch, and stubborn as you are, aren’t willing to sacrifice it.

There’s a shitty cooking show playing in the background, providing some white noise as you eat in silence. And because Carmy, your boyfriend of a week, made it, of course it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever had. He insists on washing the dishes, playing it off as being a gentleman, when in reality, he has a very special and specific system for his dishes, and no offence, but he doesn’t want you to ruin it. Maybe one day he’ll let you dry them.

The night is spent… well, I think you can guess, but he falls asleep a good few hours after you, overthinking the events that just took place, staring at you, unable to shake the feeling that this is a fucking mistake, this is a fucking mistake, carmen, please, you need to get out now, because the other shoe is going to drop and he’ll be left feeling lonelier than he did before he met you, because now his heart is full with something that it wasn’t before, and he’ll just know that the feeling of it is going to me unmissable. 

He falls asleep on the very edge of the bed, practically pressed against the wall, even when there’s so much room for him to sprawl out; you’re very small, because he doesn’t want to touch you, he doesn’t want to grow more attached and obsessed and addicted to the feeling of your skin against his when the other shoe is going to drop and he’ll be left mourning the place in his heart and his bed that you used to occupy.

And even despite all of his worries and anxiety, he sleeps better than he has in literal years, not waking up once in the middle of the night, not a nightmare, not a single dream at all. Believe me, it was still a shitty fucking sleep, but he woke up with you lying on your stomach, using your arm as a pillow, your other arm by your side, with your fingers slightly intertwined with his. You haven’t moved a muscle since you fell asleep, and his heart sinks when he realises it’s only been a week and his subconscious is already yearning for you.

And as much as the feeling terrifies him, your hand is so soft and small compared to his, and hey, this is actually kind of nice, because when he tries to remove his land from your feather light grip, you give a soft huff in your sleep, trying to cling on to fingers that are no longer there, hands that are already pulling on a shirt and closing his bedroom door slightly to let you sleep without his early morning chef interruptions.

He’s halfway to work by the time you even stir, and all you wake up to is a sticky note on his counter.

Had a great time, see you tomorrow

- C. B

[channiebelly]

Role model

warning: belly kink, weight gain kink, mutual gaining, stuffing. Wonwoo is very big, Chan is chubby.

ship: wonwoo/chan

wordcount: 2.4k

This is a sequel to a request I wrote a few days ago, which you can find here. I recommend reading that first.

Chan decided that he wanted to gain weight after accidentally picking up on some feedee habits from Wonwoo. Luckily Wonwoo is there to show him exactly what to do.

Chan and Wonwoo head to the burger place that evening. Wonwoo isn't sure if he should order the food this time and break the routine, but Chan makes the decision for him by directing him to his seat and going to the counter without any discussion.

"The trick is," Wonwoo says after Chan joins him, "to keep up a steady pace. You have to keep taking bite after bite without thinking about it. If you lose momentum, it gets harder to keep going."

"Okay," Chan says. He looks excited.

The food comes out and they get started. Chan hadn't ordered the same burger as Wonwoo, preferring to stick to his normal burger. Wonwoo understands; his order is incredibly intimidating.

The first burger is easy for Chan. He'd eaten this amount of food just a couple of days before. When he finishes he goes to order another round right away. Clearly, he's taking Wonwoo's words about not losing momentum to heart.

The second course is more difficult. Chan starts to slow only a quarter of the way in, but he doesn't stop. It's a slower momentum but it is still momentum.

Wonwoo finishes before him, and whispers quiet encouragement to Chan across the table.

Chan finishes. He's red cheeked and panting slightly, arching his back as an attempt to give his stomach more room. He looks very uncomfortable, but he has a small smile on his face. He's proud of himself.

"Good job, baby," Wonwoo says. "You've done such a good job."

Chan places a hand gently on his belly. "I've never been this full in my life. It feels so good."

Wonwoo smiles. "Now you understand how I got to this size."

Chan keeps eating massive portions throughout the week. Usually Chan only takes a granola bar for breakfast, but now Wonwoo makes him sit at the table and eat a massive bowl of cereal with him. "You need to utilise all the hours in the day to eat," Wonwoo tells him.

Chan starts takes extra leftovers to work, and eats seconds and thirds every single night at dinner. He eats dessert and snacks all the time, and starts buying himself fatty treats on the way home.

He's eating almost every hour of the day, making sure he's never hungry.

On Friday, they go back to the buffet.

"You have to try and keep up with me," Wonwoo challenges Chan. "Every time I finish a plate, you finish a plate. But tap out whenever it's getting too much for you. I have a much bigger capacity than you."

Chan looks nervous.

Wonwoo lowers his voice. "If you manage to eat five plates, you can ride me when we get home." Chan loves riding Wonwoo when he's stuffed, saying that the feeling of a massive packed tummy to grab onto and rut against while they fuck makes everything feel hotter. Chan straightens up.

"You're on."

They fill each other's plates every time they go up to another course. Wonwoo likes not being able to choose what he eats, and he thinks Chan would like it too.

The only problem with this is that Wonwoo has to stand up between each plate, which becomes harder and harder as they keep eating. Chan keeps up a steady pace, but Wonwoo can see his face get more and more red as they go.

Eventually, Chan taps out at four and a half plates. He looks at the remaining food sadly, but his face is pinched in pain.

"Better luck next time, babe," Wonwoo says.

Wonwoo makes it to 10 plates (watching Chan is incredibly encouraging). But when they go to leave, the worker tells them that there's an extra charge for the food that Chan left behind, so Wonwoo finishes that too.

They walk, or shuffle, their way out of the restaurant and Wonwoo books a ride home. "How was that?" he asks.

"You eat so quickly," Chan says, taking shallow breaths, still filled to the brim. Wonwoo puts a hand on Chan's belly to test how full he is. He's rock solid.

"You need to eat fast. There's not enough hours in the day otherwise."

"I didn't realise how much work this was."

"You did a really good job," Wonwoo says. "I'm proud of you."

Wonwoo comes home from work one day with a large chocolate cake. "We're doing a stuffing today," he announces. This will be the first time they've done a stuffing at home, and the first one that Wonwoo has explicitly called a stuffing.

Chan looks wide-eyed and excited as Wonwoo brings the chocolate cake into the living room.

It's already been cut, and Wonwoo places it in the middle of the couch and sits next to it. He passes Chan a plate.

"We're eating half each," Chan nods. There are four pieces each. "Go."

Chan starts off with his legs folded, but around the third piece has to stretch his legs out in front of him.

They both finish their four pieces quickly.

"Huh," Wonwoo says. "I'll have to buy a bigger one next time." Chan isn't stuffed enough. He needs to be slightly short of breath for Wonwoo to feel like he's actually at his limit.

Wonwoo struggles his way off the couch and goes to the kitchen. He grabs the two cartons of heavy cream they have and brings them back out.

"Drink this," he says. Chan takes it starts drinking it slowly. When he takes his first pause to breathe, Wonwoo asks him how he feels.

Chan places his hand on the curve below his belly button. "Heavy," he says. He starts drinking again. Wonwoo hands him the second carton as soon as he finishes the first.

When he finishes, he leans back against the couch and groans.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo asks.

"Yeah." He tries to take some deep breaths. "My stomach feels so heavy. And my skin is itchy."

"That's what being stuffed feels like," Wonwoo says.

"I love it," Chan says. He pulls his t-shirt up and settles his hands on his belly. Wonwoo stares at him, taking in how sexy he looks. "I need to sleep for a week."

Wonwoo wants to lean over and kiss him on the exposed skin, but the size of his belly would get in the way, making it too difficult to do that. So he gives him a pat on the knee and starts cleaning up.

Wonwoo isn't as full as he wanted to be, but he doesn't care. Watching Chan eat that much was more than enough for him to feel satisfied.

That night, Chan doesn't wear his pyjama shirt to bed, saying that his skin is too sensitive. He lets Wonwoo massage his belly as he drifts off. He's definitely stuffed, Wonwoo thinks. Wonwoo thinks about how many times Chan did this for him, he loves how the dynamics have shifted now.

Chan follows Wonwoo's guidance well. He stuffs himself a few times a week, eats massive meals, snacks constantly and tries valiantly to keep up with Wonwoo when they go out to the buffet or restaurants. He's determined to put on weight.

After two months he outgrows his clothes. On the day that Chan goes out to buy new clothes, Wonwoo mourns; he liked seeing Chan's belly peeking out the bottom of his shirts. He liked being able to see how big Chan was all the time because of how stretched his shirt was. He liked seeing just how big Chan's ass had grown.

After three months Chan's weight starts to redistribute itself. Initially, all of the weight was going right to growing his middle. He's still mainly belly, with what looks like a hefty beer gut (even though Chan is much more of a whiskey guy), but his cheeks start to chub up, his chest softens and his thighs start to spread.

After four months his belly starts to rest in his lap and after five months he has to start spreading his legs so it has somewhere to go when he sits down. Standing up gets more difficult and Wonwoo thinks it's funny to watch Chan try and work out the easiest way to haul himself off the couch. Chan is well and truly big.

He stops being able to cross his legs entirely, which Wonwoo misses. When Chan was able to cross his legs his belly would sit on his lap looking rounder and cuter than ever. A picture of Chan sitting like that was currently his phone wallpaper. But this is just one of the parts of Chan's growing stomach, and the way his gut settled heavily between his legs was almost a better visual.

This is also this point when they have to change their regular seat at the burger restaurant. Chan tries to slide into the booth side where he usually sits and finds that his belly knocks against the table.

"Do you see why I prefer the chair?" Wonwoo asks cheekily. Chan rolls his eyes.

Wonwoo loves Chan's growing body. He'd always been into bigger guys, but for a long time that energy had been focused on getting himself bigger. Watching the subtle changes in Chan's body, and admiring him made him remember why he was so into this in the first place. He also loves how much Chan is obviously enjoying his own body and weight gain. Often, he'll walk into the bedroom and see Chan admiring himself, or jiggling his belly. He gets excited about every pound gained and every shirt outgrown. Chan picks up a habit of just absent-mindedly rubbing his belly, betraying just how comfortable with his new body he is.

Wonwoo continues to grow throughout this time too, although slower than before since they've been focused more on Chan. His underbelly starts to sag even more until no t-shirt will cover it. To be decent in public he needs to keep his shirts tucked in and holding up his hang at all times.

Chan thinks it's the best thing ever. He plays with it when he's bored and relishes the way it makes it harder to suck Wonwoo off.

Having two big people in the house makes some things harder. If they try to be in the bathroom at the same time they find it hard to manoeuvre around each other. Their bellies brush and bump into things and they have to be super careful (unsurprisingly, they both find this incredibly hot so they never try to avoid it).

Kissing gets harder. If they try and kiss after stuffing, their bellies are too swollen and bloated for them to get close enough to each other. They just bounce against each other like bumper cars. The first time this happened Wonwoo got so turned on that he fucked Chan for hours. They work out a new way to kiss where they stand next to each other and turn their heads to the side, and kissing while lying down is also a lot easier.

Chan gaining all this weight is turning out amazing.

"I have a game for us," Wonwoo announces. "I'm going to order a lot of Chinese food, and we have to race to see who can eat the most." Chan's capacity has increased a lot, so Wonwoo thinks that he might have a good chance of winning.

"You're on."

Wonwoo orders an obscene amount of food, and they set it all on the dining table when it arrives.

"Ready?" Wonwoo asks

"Let's go."

They're quiet for the next hour and a bit and they eat as much and as fast as they can. Wonwoo can see Chan growing uncomfortable, spreading his legs and massaging his tummy as he eats. Watching Chan encourages Wonwoo to eat even more, and he looks at him whenever he feels himself slowing down.

Wonwoo finds himself growing full too. His stomach groans at how much is being packed into it, but Wonwoo is used to that by now. He powers through.

When the food is finished, neither Wonwoo or Chan say anything. They're too busy panting. But Wonwoo catches Chan's eye and they both grin at each other. They're uncomfortably stuffed, stomachs stretched and groaning, skin taut and painful, but they're happy. So happy.

"Who won?" Chan asks.

"I can't tell."

Chan shrugs. "That was amazing."

Ten months after starting Wonwoo and Chan take themselves on vacation to celebrate Chan gaining 100 pounds.

Their plan is to go to a hotel and order mountains of room service and stuff each other silly, aiming to leave the suite as little as possible.

They get in and start getting settled.

"Chan, come here," Wonwoo calls.

Chan walks over to the other section of the room. In front of Wonwoo is a mirror.

"We have a full-length mirror at home."

"Not one wide enough to show both of us at the same time."

Chan's mouth drops into an 'o' of understanding.

"Take your shirt off."

When they're both shirtless, they stand side by side in front of the mirror. Wonwoo lets his eyes take in their bodies slowly.

They're both big, although Wonwoo is a lot bigger, but the weight has settled onto them in different ways. Chan's belly is taut and round, solid and firm even when he hasn't eaten for a while. It stands out proudly and prominently, drawing all attention to it. Even as he has gained more and more weight, it has retained its shape, getting even more spherical. Even the sides of his belly are rounded now, pushing his arms away from his body. He has two soft moobs which almost rest on top, swollen and soft. His thighs are thick, forcing him to stand with his legs apart.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is a lot softer. His belly is more bottom heavy, his underhang fully covering his crotch and the tops of his enormous thighs. He's doughy as well, his whole body jiggles as he moves, making sure that everyone knows how big he is. His moobs are large and heavy, they're almost too big to hold in his hands, and they sit on top of his belly even when standing.

Chan is shorter and smaller than Wonwoo, and even with how much weight he's gain, Wonwoo still makes him look tiny.

"What do you think?" Wonwoo asks.

"We look so hot," Chan says. "Fuck."

"You've got a ways to go if you want to catch up to me."

"Do you think I can't do it?"

"Oh, I know you can."

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Great end of chapter if I do say so myself -Danny Words: 2,167 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Trouble' -by Imagine Dragons

II: No! Not My Irrepressible Thoughts of Death!

"She really named her place Hebe Jeebies?"

"Afraid so."

"And how did you know about this place?"

"They have great licorice ropes," Grover explains. "You can't pass by without smelling them!"

"It's a candy store, then?" Annabeth frowns.

"No, more like... Actually, it's easier to show you."

Ara groans, the first noise she's made since they got there. "Are we going to regret this?"

"Probably. But then again, you love your job," Percy grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her in. "C'mon, quest junkie..."

The place looks like the craziest family restaurant Ara's ever seen, though to be fair, she hasn't been to many. Her family prefers ordering a pizza and playing video games until their thumbs are sore, but she can sense the magic bouncing off the walls like an annoying buzzing in her ear.

"I get it now," Annabeth makes a face. "This place does give me the heebie-jeebies."

"You feel that too?" Ara mumbles.

"Feel what?" Percy asks.

"Like the Lotus casino," she responds. "Time feels wrong."

"I've been here a few times," Grover replies eerily. "I've never found the other end of the place."

"Okay," Percy steps back. "I agree with Birdy. I'm getting strong Lotus Casino vibes in here... like low-rent Lotus Casino, but still..."

"Nothing low-rent about this," Ara steps forward.

"It's not a trap," Grover tries to ease them. "At least, I've never had any trouble leaving. These families... they come and go. They don't seem to be stuck in time."

"Then... what's the catch?" Annabeth frowns. "There's always a catch."

"I don't know," Grover says awkwardly. "I usually just get licorice and leave. I keep a low profile."

"Hebe runs this place, right?" Ara shrugs. "Perhaps she eats little kids."

"Shut up," Percy groans. "Are we even sure she's here?"

"No, but..." Grover shrugs. "You know that feeling you get when there's a god around and you can't see them, but you kind of feel like there's a swarm of dung beetles on the back of your neck?"

"Not exactly..." Percy mumbles.

"I feel it almost every day," Ara's had enough encounters with gods to differentiate a normal state of anxiety from actual power breathing down her neck. "It itches."

"Dung beetles is oddly specific, though," Annabeth points out.

"I've got that feeling now," Grover insists. "We could ask the staff if Hebe's around. If we can find someone."

"Oh, my gods," Annabeth perks up. "Stackers. I haven't played that since..."

Ara points at another game. "It's the same we have in camp! Leo..." Her smile falters, losing her train of thought for a moment. "Uh... rigged it so we could mess with the characters—he called it idiot mode."

"It's a nostalgia trap," Percy says cleverly. "The place is selling people their own childhoods."

Annabeth hums. "That makes sense, but a lot of places sell nostalgia. It's not necessarily a bad thing..."

"Nostalgia's addictive," Ara responds promptly. "Maybe Hebe doesn't need magic to keep people here, miserable folk love wasting their lives in this sort of crap." She lets out a dry chuckle. "I know what I'll be doing after school..."

Percy places a hand on her shoulder. "Keep walking."

"Excuse me, miss?" Annabeth stops an employee.

"What?" The girl—can't be older than ten—pauses and calms down. "Sorry. The token machine is broken again, and I gotta get these tickets to... Anyway, how can I help?"

"We're looking for Hebe?" Percy says.

"If this is about a refund for a defective game—" 

"It's not."

"Or the pizza being moldy—"

"It's not. Also, yuck."

"Depends on the mold," Grover mumbles.

"We just need to speak to the goddess in charge," Annabeth explains. "It's kind of urgent."

The young girl eyes them with a frown but shrugs. "Past the diving cliff; left at the henhouse."

"Diving cliff?"

"Henhouse?"

"She'll be in the karaoke bar," Sparky—that's the name in her tag—makes a face. "Don't worry. You'll hear it."

When the girl leaves, Percy turns to his friends. "Are we really going to search out a karaoke bar... like, on purpose?"

"I love karaoke," Ara frowns. "It's fun!"

"You can duet with me on 'Shallow,'" Annabeth teases the boy.

"You don't want that," he grins.

"Oh, I don't know." Annabeth gives him a playful pinch. "Might be romantic."

Their soul lights glow and Ara gawks playfully. Grover nudges her arm. "We're just going to keep walking," he says, pulling her along.

"Hey, water," Ara points out. "If there's an emergency we can use that, Nemo."

"Gross, but yeah," he looks at the greenish water with repugnance. "Let's hope we don't have to."

"Aaand that's the henhouse," Ara scowls. "This can't be sanitary."

"Why?" Percy asks, but not in response to her comment, more like, Why would anyone put this here?

"Hebe's sacred animal," Annabeth explains to them. "Maybe we should move along."

"Those are not friendly pollos," Ara mutters, noticing the way the animals are ogling at them with dead stares. 

Hebe is easy to identify, she's the only person in there dressed like a 60's go-go girl. Everything that could go wrong goes wrong within the next thirty minutes of sitting there talking to her. She rambles about how Percy was stupid for rejecting immortality and eternal youth, scans Ara up and down, making the girl self-conscious, and when Ganymede gets mentioned, that only worsens things.

"Heroes accusing me of theft! The only thing I've ever stolen is time from the Fates so mortals could enjoy longer lives! I care nothing for that... that usurper's cup! Do you think I would want my old job back, waiting tables on Mount Olympus, when I have my own establishment right here with all the pizza, karaoke, and bumper cars I could ever desire?"

"You're right," Percy says promptly. "Of course that's silly. But maybe you know someone else who could've stolen it? Or if you'd let us look around so we can report back that it definitely isn't here—"

"ENOUGH!" Hebe starts glowing. "What did you say earlier, Percy Jackson? Getting older is part of life? Well, perhaps you should start that process over again. Maybe you'll do it right this time and learn some manners!"

It can get chaotic real fast when a goddess decides to turn everyone in your friend group into eight-year-olds. 

There's lots of clumsiness and tons of emotional immaturity. Ara starts weeping the moment she's stripped of her power. She's an anxious, weak child—and impatient as well. She's tugging Percy's hand screaming about this being all his fault, demanding to be taken back to her mommy and daddy, and it only gets worse when Sparky releases the killer chickens. 

Fifteen-year-old Ara is hard to intimidate, but baby Ara? The moment those beasts show up, she lets out a high-pitched scream and tries to scramble out of there. Annabeth and Percy have to drag her through every obstacle, and at the back of her mind she knows she should help, but Hebe took her to a time when she had no training, no blessings, and no control over her ADHD.

Ara overhears her friends talking about kidnapping chicks, but the only time they pay any attention to her is when they lock themselves inside the karaoke and Percy shoves a mic into her small hand. He squeaks out in his little boy's voice. "You're the singer—Sing!"

Ara hiccups through the song, but she manages to stay calm now that Grover and Annabeth are keeping the cabin sealed shut. The music helps her ease her nerves and soon enough Percy and Annabeth join her. "You're terrible singers," she says in a stuffy voice.

Percy and Annabeth trap her in a hug as they sway and sing louder. Ara lets out a giggle that makes her friends smile more, they hadn't heard that girlish noise in ages. It's hard to notice when someone's voice changes if you spend every day listening to them, just like it's crazy how they're all the same height and age right now. 

Ara always wondered if their relationships would've been any different had she been the same age as them, if they would've trusted her, and perhaps even supported her wish to become a daughter of Olympus. Now that they are, she realizes that no, they would've still tried to stop her, because it was never about the age. Ara was simply too much of a coward.

"Stop it! Stop it, already!" Hebe shows up again, stomping her feet to silence them.

"Oh great and extremely young Hebe!" Percy starts. "We are so sorry—"

"Especially Percy," Annabeth adds.

"I am ninety percent of the sorry!" He concedes. "Please forgive us!"

"If that song was supposed to be an apology, you should direct it to John Lennon."

"He was a jerk," Ara blurts out, then Annabeth elbows her. "But you seem to like the 60s, and we want nothing more than to appeal to you!"

"Please, grant us sanctuary from your wrathful hens!" Grover presses.

"And please return us to our proper ages!" Annabeth adds.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hebe makes a time-out sign. "First you desecrate my karaoke machine, then you barrage me with requests? Why should I return you to your former ages?"

"Because... Because you are generous and good, and also super young," Percy tries clumsily.

"We are petitioners at your altar," Annabeth replies.

"Your holiest of holy karaoke stages! Most sacred of disco boogie venues!" Silence. "Too much?" Grover sighs. "All we want is to leave here in peace, at our normal ages—so we can spread the word about the wonders and terrors of Hebe Jeebies!"

"And with a little information about the chalice of the gods, please," Percy says sweetly.

Hebe scowls at him. "There it is again. That insolence. That slander. Perhaps I did not send you far enough back into your childhood."

"Forgive him!" Annabeth squeaks. "We would never try to run out the clock on you!"

"It's true!" Percy pipes in. "Clocks are bad!"

"I don't know how to read a clock," Ara pipes in.

"You are spouting nonsense," the goddess frowns.

"Exactly, they do that a lot!" Annabeth says. "That's why you must forgive them!"

"What did I do?" Ara pouts. "I didn't get us in this trouble!"

"You matured too fast," Hebe glares at her. "What is a youthful body to a soul that can't enjoy it?"

"That's true, you're growing too fast," Percy nods in agreement.

And whose fault is that? Ara scowls. She doesn't think she's a troublemaker nowadays, the only reason she's stuck as a child is precisely because she's doing exactly what the gods ask of her. "Shut up."

"You shut up!"

Hebe stomps her tiny feet to silence them, she seems to be getting younger. "You are all so—so yucky!" She's getting even smaller than Ara. "What is happening? I don't like it!"

Ara and Percy share a confused look, then he looks at the booth behind them. "Lil' Killer!" He says. 

"A chick?" Ara crawls under the booth.

"Don't look at me like that!" Hebe squeals at the way Annabeth stares at her as if waiting for something. "You're a big dummy!"

Ara holds the chick in her small hands, squirming a little because the animal keeps trying to bite her fingers. They wait until Hebe turns into a full newborn. "What just happened?" Grover mutters.

Annabeth picks up the baby and coos. "Li'l Killer pulled juniority on Hebe. But you are so adorable!" Hebe threatens to hit Annabeth, but it's not strong enough. "Now hold on, I know you're fussy, but I'm sure you're not making an age-based complaint, are you? The chickens wouldn't like that."

Baby Hebe shuts up instantly. Ara giggles and pats the chick she's holding with her index finger.

"Great," Annabeth hums. "Then here's what I suggest. We agree that some young ages are just too young. Then we remove Li'l Killer from the room so you can age yourself back up to at least elementary school. Then you accept our apology, put us back to our normal ages, tell us whatever you know about the chalice of the gods, and we all go our separate ways. Gurgle once for yes. Poop yourself for no."

Hebe gurgles.

"Grover," the girl turns to her friend, "would you ask Li'l Killer to return to her pen, please?" Grover talks to the chick in Ara's hands and the little animal squeaks in response. Ara kisses its tiny head and then pushes it gently through the door. 

Hebe wastes no time turning back into a teenager. "You four..." she growls.

"We apologize, Great Hebe," Annabeth repeats. "And ask for sanctuary."

"And information," Percy reminds her. Annabeth nudges his side. "Please."

"You're lucky I like John Lennon," Hebe snaps her fingers and turns them back to normal. "Sit, and I will tell you what I know. But you aren't going to like it."

Ara sits and stares at her hands: supple, slim, and slightly shaky. In comparison to a few seconds ago, she feels how different she truly is from who she used to be when she was a little girl. Everything in her body is stronger and well-tuned... but what is a perfect body to a polluted soul? At the very core, Ara is still small and insecure, nothing will ever satiate the void in her chest. Nothing will change.

"You okay?" Grover nudges her shoulder. "Did Lil's killer poop on you?"

Ara looks at him, trying to brush off her thoughts. "Just checking for wrinkles."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[scifrey]

Hold Tight (2/6)

Status: Complete. Unbeta’d, we die like Hob doesn’t.

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death. Also includes some erotic content. Please curate your internet experience accordingly.

Relationships:  Morpheus | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Past Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past), Hector Hall/Lyta Hall (past)

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Desire of the Endless, Lyta Trevor-Hall, Daniel Hall, Rose Walker, Jed Walker 

Summary:

Hob is tasked with his first quest as Vassal of the Endless, Morpheus is bad at using his words, Destiny thinks he’s so clever, Desire makes a confession, Rose Walker meets her Uncle’s boyfriend, and Lyta Hall punches Dream of the Endless in the nose. Or, the one where Hob Gadling turns into everyone’s therapist, and honestly, he ain’t mad about it.

Set at the end of Cling Fast - after the premiere of “Elizabethan Manor”, but before the Epilogue.

READ ON AO3 or below:

Chapter Two

Easter is coming up, and Hob still doesn’t teach on Tuesdays. So after some back-and-forthing via text, and a few video chats to prove that he’s not catfishing the Walkers, Hob’s got a flight booked from Heathrow to Newark Liberty for the Friday morning of the holidays. He picks a hotel at random from the half a dozen near the Walker’s apartment building, and splurges on a pair of tickets to see the big ‘It Show’ on Broadway that season. It’s been a lifetime since he saw live theatre in New York, quite literally, and Morpheus is fond of stories in all their forms.

He reserves a swanky pan-Mediterranean restaurant with a Michelin-starred chef for the same night, but doesn't bother with a second plane ticket for his lover. Morpheus is still Dream enough to travel without needing to be crammed into an airtight metal tube for nine hours, and Hob’s not wasting the money (or, frankly, the patience.)

While he’s not hurting for cash, Hob is desperately aware of how fast everything can go to hell, and his wages and savings are soon enough going to have to stretch to cover the needs and wants of two immortal humans. While it is more or less true that two can live as cheaply as one, as the old maxim goes, there are renovations he wants to make to the living quarters of the Inn so he and Morpheus aren't tripping over one another. And Morpheus is going to have to eat (whether he likes it or not), which means an increase in the grocery bill, if nothing else.

Hob assumes that eventually Morpheus will get a job, but before that he’s going to have to get used to the pleasures and frustrations of occupying just one body on the mortal plane. Though, what kind of job will be suited to a former Onieromancer, Hob can't even begin to guess. His mind baulks every time he tries to imagine Morpheus in a barista's pinny.

Hob has vague ideas of not telling Morpheus about the New York trip. Of just heading to the airport and falling asleep in New York, and shouting “surprise!” when his lover pops into existence in his hotel room. But about a week before he’s due to travel, Hob finds himself in utter brain-dead exhaustion and tipping into slumber draped over a pile of marking. He opens his eyes in the interior of an airplane.

It’s a weird amalgamation of all the earliest flights he’d ever taken, painted with an ever-shifting palette of generous legroom, outlandishly luxurious curtains and carpets, over-the-top Golden Age of Airtravel cocktails, and sexy little airhostesses (what? Hob is only human, and the outfits were designed to turn the girls wearing them into works of art. Hob's allowed to admire art.)

“I would not be opposed to wearing such an outfit if it would please you, Hob,” Morpheus rumbles in his ear, deep as night and sweet as sin. His timbre here in the Dreaming remains what Hob thinks of as his Dream Voice, laced with magic and the deepness of night. Sometimes, when he makes the effort to draw the cloak of his Endless nature about him, he can still access it in the Waking. But it's becoming less and less common. “Though I do not think my legs would be as comely.”

“They would in those heels, babe,” Hob laughs, and turns toward the window seat to catch Morpehus’ mouth quick and dirty with his own. “But that’s not why I’m dreaming about air travel.”

Morpheus bites his lower lip playfully. “Are you planning a trip, erasti?”

“Betrayed by my own subconscious,” Hob huffs, and pulls back. “It was sorta supposed to be a surprise.” Concentrating on his lucid dreaming, Hob produces replicas of the Broadway tickets.

Morpheus takes one and studies it, eyebrows lowering in confusion. “You would cross the ocean simply for a play?”

“A good play,” Hob hedges, wondering if he is really going to get away with the subterfuge.

Does he tell Morpheus it’s just for the performance, and then spring the Walkers on him?

Or would that do the opposite of what Destiny had asked, make Morpheus resent both Hob and this mortal niece and nephew? And what would it mean for this mysterious friend Lyta that Hob’s supposed to reconnect Morpheus with?

Hob hasn’t looked into her too deeply, for fear of coming off creepy or weird. However, according to both the internet and Hob’s chats with Rose, Lyta is an architect, and the sole partner in a firm that used to include her late husband. She lives in the same building as the Walkers. They share a tight bond, as Rose had been there for her husband’s death, and then Lyta returned the compassion while Rose slowly lost her mother.

Lyta’s also recently had a baby. The dates around the death of her husband don’t align with when she might have conceived, so Hob assumes there’s a new boyfriend in her life, or a rebound that had gone wrong (or right,) or the late husband had frozen his sperm, and Lyta had done IVF. All possibilities, and all none of Hob’s goddamned business.

He wants to form his own relationship with her as honestly and organically as he can, before shoving her at his lover and telling them to make up. (Hob still has no idea why she hates Morpheus.)

“Well, it’s not Shakespeare,” Morpheus allows offhandedly, manifesting a single puffball-perfect, light purple scabius blossom.

Hob laughs. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. My taste isn’t that bad!”

He takes the flower, presses it to his lips, and is about to suggest he and Morpheus join the mile high club when the blossom wavers and reblooms as a darkly purple, star-shaped nightshade.

Morpheus looks from the plant to his lover, and smirks. “Are you lying to me, Hob Gadling?”

Hob puffs out a sigh and runs his free hand through his hair. “No! No, not… not lying. Just… not telling the whole truth.” He twirls the stem of the tattle-tale flower in between his fingers, releasing the sweet scent of the flower into the cabin. Then he sets it down and takes Morpheus’s hands between his own, resting them on the narrow arm rest separating them. “I’m going to New York to perform a boon-–no don’t ask me which sibling, or what the task itself is, I won’t tell you. But I’m going to New York, and I want you to come with me.”

“To a play,” Morpheus repeats, clearly unconvinced. "For a task, as Vassal of the Endless."

“The play is a reward for your good behaviour, O Prince of Stories, and a treat for me.”

Morpheus wraps his fingers around Hob’s, tight and demanding. “And pray tell me, what does this visit entail for me, that you feel the need to pre-book a reward for my lack of a tantrum?”

Hob licks his lips. Morpheus’s starlit eyes drop to them immediately, so Hob does it again.

“You are stalling, innamorato,” Morpheus growls, but doesn’t lift his gaze away from Hob’s mouth.

“I… I’ve been in communication with Rose Walker,” Hob confesses in a rush, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Morpheus rears back, eyebrows bouncing high, lips pursed in a pissy frown. “Who gave you permission? She is my niece–”

“You’re not her only uncle, you know,” Hob says, taking his turn to squeeze his lover’s fingers and keep him rooted to the dream seat, preventing him from whispering away in a sandy strop. “And like you said, I am Vassal of the Endless. All of the Endless, not just the siblings you get along with.”

Morpheus swallows the rest of his indignant protest with an audible click. He chews on the truth of what Hob’s saying, the look on his face suggesting that it’s awfully sour.

“Look, I know you don’t like it, but I need to see them. I need to talk to them. And I want you to come with me.”

“Why?” Morpheus grinds out, the single syllable grating against his teeth.

Hob gawps at him. “Because they’re your family, duckie. You're going to be human soon—don't tell me you don't want the family connection. Rose and Jed, they won't live forever, but they may have kids, and don't you want to be part of their lives? Don't you want that… that anchor? That privilege? I know I would give anything to know what happened to the descendants of my sisters’s living children.”

Morpheus seems to muse on this, and while Hob can't tell from his expression on what side of the fence his lover lands, he does catch the little eyelid flicker which means Morpheus has decided to acquiesce to his pleas in order to keep Hob happy. "Do you require me to intervene on your behalf with them?"

"No. I just… I want you to spend time with them, that's all," Hob says gently.

"And what does this have to do with the task laid before you by one of my siblings?"

Hob tugs on his ear, once again debating the probability of complete honesty working in his favour, or blowing up in his face. The nightshade hanging in the air between them fades away into dream sand and reforms as a spray of freesia.

Morpheus frowns at it, a fetching little furrow appearing between his eyebrows. It's the one which Hob always wants to smooth away with his thumb, and this time he lets himself reach up and do so. Morpheus transfers his gaze to Hob's face, eyes sliding back down to Hob's mouth.

He takes Hob's upraised hand gently, and presses a slow, open-mouthed and lingering kiss against Hob's wrist, testing his pulse with his night-cool tongue. Hob shudders, feeling the dream of the airplane wisp away around them.

"Very well," Morpheus rumbles. "I will do as you entreat and trust you."

"You'll meet me there?" Hob asks, even as the freesia changes again, this time into a headily perfumed white-and-yellow jonquil.

"I will. Name the day."

"Okay. I promise, Morpheus—"

"Hob," the King of Dreams and Nightmares says, and pushes Hob back onto his bed. Hob doesn’t wonder how they got to Morpheus’ private chambers in his castle. He only arches his spine and spreads his limbs wide in invitation, which his lover accepts, as he knew Morpheus would. "I have said I will attend."

Even Hob rarely sees Morpheus' bed chambers in the dreaming, for more often they make love in the Waking, or in a fantasy replica of Hob's apartment or other analogous location. The walls around them are an ever-shifting marble of purple and deep blue, the colours of the sky in the gloaming. The pillows are made up of piles of scarlet-pink-orange-peach sunset clouds, fluffy and sweet-smelling, and the bedclothes the star-pricked heavens of twilight.

If there is other furniture in the room besides the massive, body-cradling bed, Hob has no idea. He's always had much better things to pay attention to when he's in this room than the decor.

"Thank you, duckie," Hob says, as Morpheus fists his long, slim fingers in Hob's hair and tugs just enough for it to be exciting. Hob gasps, high and sweet, as Morpheus scrapes his teeth—pointed and thrillingly nightmarish—along his clavicle.

"Enough talk, Hob Gadling," Morpheus intones, his words an edict. "Put your mouth to better use."

And who is Hob to ever deny a direct order from his King?

See, one of the nice things about sex in the Dreaming is that first, Morpheus can present with any arrangement of genitals that he's feeling fit his current mood he wants. And, secondly, there does not need to be any elaborate hygiene ritual to ensure that one's body is prepared to receive a tongue.

This convenience is balanced out by the extreme inconvenience of mornings where Hob is more often than not ridiculously stuck to his PJs. A wet dream or two (or three, or four) will do that to a man. Hob could, of course, choose not to wear anything at night, but that would just mean he'd have to change the sheets every time Morpheus felt frisky, and that is more work than it's worth. Hob's seriously thinking about looking into period panties as nightwear, solely due to their absorbent properties. Hob's also begun waxing his pubic hair simply because it makes his morning showers faster.

He's not saying that the faster Morpheus the God of Sleep becomes Morph the Immortal Human full-time, the better. Of course not. Morpheus' transition should happen at his own pace and comfort level. But Hob is definitely looking forward to not having to peel himself out of his pajamas in the shower before he can start the day.

"Hob!" Morpheus says with another imperious tug of his hair. "Cease daydreaming and—"

Using the element of surprise, Hob wraps a thick thigh around Morpheus' hip, shoves his shoulder, and gets the skinny little nightmare under him.

"What are you—oh!" Morpheus gasps, as Hob folds his fingers over Morpheus' stomach, rocks back on his own heels, and hauls his lover's pelvis up to his mouth to see what he's working with.

A beautifully camelia-pink pussy pouts up at him. It is already swelling open, moist and delicious, with the cutest little clit winking at Hob from under its soft hood.

"My, my," Hob tuts, rubbing his cheek on the soft moon-pale flesh of his lover's inner thigh, leaving a deliberate ruby-red beard rash behind. "If you wanted my cock so badly, all you had to do was ask, duckie."

Morpheus gets his black-laquered nails into Hobs shoulders and digs in. "This is asking."

"Right, of course," Hob murmurs, smearing the words against Morpheus' glistening labia. "Why use words when you can just sit on my fa—mmph!"

Now it is Hob's turn to be surprised, as Morpheus surges up and, using his superior eldritch power to force Hob's shoulders back onto the springy bed to do just that. Morpheus grinds down against Hob's chin, and Hob opens his mouth, points his tongue, and puts it to the demanded use obligingly.

Even when he desires to be topped, Morpheus is bossy.

Hob wouldn't have him any other way, honestly.

From the moment Hob had craned his head back to look up at the long, lithe line of Morpheus' body in 1389, he'd known that he would be happy to be on his knees, chin tipped up and throat exposed, for the rest of his life. Acts of Service and Gifts are his love language, and like ridiculously expensive Greek wine, whole Inns, venison pasties, and appearing on a TV show to make his lover happy, Hob delights at giving orgasms, too.

Morpheus is his God, Hob is Head Priest and Supplicant, and Hob is filled with zinging joy to be made to lay back on the altar of Morpheus' regard, and worship.

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[skiasurveys]

What are some tropes/settings/concepts that you like in horror movies/books? psychological

Are there any objects that you own because of what they are rather than what you use them for? (For example, having a piano to have a piano rather than to play it or having an Eames chair because it is an Eames chair, etc.) no i’m poor

Who do you tend to compare yourself to most often? Is it someone in your life, someone online, or some composite idea of a person? people my age or younger

Stripes or polka dots? neither

Do you care if people touch you when they’re talking to you? i guess? it depends on who.

What is your gender? Do you think that people think it's obvious? Im a female. Im sure its obvious

How long did your first date last? which one? 😭

Highlight of your day? getting a blizzard

Is everything working in your house? I guess so

Does pop give you energy? Caffeine i guess

TV show you love with a passion? The last of us currently.

Do you think you learned anything from the worst night of your life? Yeah. even if I dont think so at the time, I always learn

Is it safe to say you own over 20 pairs of shoes? Nope. Maybe like 7?

Last time you went to 7-eleven? oh i dont even remember, I used to go all the time when I lived right behind one, but now I hardly go.

A fast food restaurant that you hate with a passion? I dont think I hate any with a passion, but i dont like arbys or five guys

Does everyone in your family have a job? Pretty much, yeah

Going anywhere this weekend? nope

What does it mean when you're being quiet? it can be different..sometimes im quiet bc im depressed, sad and tired and sometimes its because im busy

Last person you had a face-to-face conversation with? My mom.

How late did you stay up last night? I think 2 am

How many times have you been in love? never

How many years older than you would you date someone? It depends, maybe 10?

What was the last thing you pinky swore on? Idk

Are there a lot of mirrors in your house? Like 8

About how old was the last person that hit on you? I i think 25-28?

What color are your headphones? white

Is the fan on? Nope

Any special reason why you’re taking this survey? nope. I used to do these all the time, then stopped and just began to do them again lol

Your friend needs you to run to the store to get a pregnancy test. Do you? Yes of course, then I need the story lmao

Do you like the opposite sex to be dominant or you the one in control? dominant..hehe

If I asked you to point to Ohio on a map of the US do you think you could? Yep. i think

[TW: EATING DISORDER] Do you eat a lot of food? Not really? Like sometimes I have days where I eat more than I should, but on average nah.

Have your parents ever tried to control your relationship? not rly.

Have you ever had to give someone directions before? yes and hated it.

Have you ever babysat a newborn baby before? Not a new born

When was the last time you held someone’s hand? a few weeks ago but ot was platonic

What is your favorite Disney movie of all time? The Lion King. <- me too!! or Encanto

Which room of your house/apartment do you spend the most time in? my office or bedroom

Which insect do you find the most beautiful? Bumble Bees

Is there a substance you avoid at all costs? If so, what is it and why? Not rly

Is there a place that you might call your second home? Nope

Is there a piece of jewelry that you feel naked without? No

What’s the sweetest thing someone’s done for you? My friend bought me flowers on Valentines day. she doesnt even live in the same country.

Which wild animals are a common sight in your area? Birds, squirrels, coyotes, bunnies, wild cats sometimes

Do you recognize friends’/family’s vehicles by sound? no lol

What was the last thing that stressed you out or upset you? dental work

Do you wish people would forgive you for your past so you could move on? Yeah but I feel like I need to forgive myself and others more

Who was your first roommate? my ex boyfriend

Do you have a sibling who looks like you? my sister looks nothing like me but sometimes we have certain qualities

[TW: CHILD/PREGNANCY LOSS] Name three women you know who have lost a child. Sasha, Micha, and my Grandma

Which nationalities have you been told you look like? (i.e., Asian, Irish) I get told I look Hispanic but I dont see it 😭

What book are you currently reading? nothing i need to read again

Have you ever received any scary, threatening messages on social media? Yes.

Who was your first kiss? brandon

Who are three of your favorite YouTubers to watch? Game Grumps, kurtis conner, safiya nygaard

What do you miss about high school? seeing friends every day

What color was your first car? white

What color was the house you grew up in? it’s this teal blue colour

Growing up, what floor was your bedroom on? top floor until i was 12 then basement

Does your bedroom have carpet? Yeah.

What are the top three travel destinations on your bucket list? Iceland, new york, italy

Do you get heartburn? I occasionally get it

What are three things you are known for on social media? graphic design , stan acc and traumacore

What is your Instagram account name?

Have you ever used Snapchat? yes but only for pics

Did you want to be famous when you were younger? yes

First celebrity you were obsessed with? joe jonas lol.

First celebrity crush? joe jonas ☹️

What was something unique about you as a kid?

nothing !!

Were you ever goth/emo? yes but not fully bc my parents wouldn’t let me lol

Do you want any more piercings? yus