#balloon boyfriend material

[imaginal-ai]

"Up, Up, and Away!" (0002)

(More of The Lovely Fantasies Series)

[maratjuana]

WIP piece of my Billsona - The outline is finally finished!!!

[moonstruckme]

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to. 

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment. 

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?” 

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas. 

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.” 

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—” 

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.” 

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks. 

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse. 

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?” 

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.” 

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful. 

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?” 

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.” 

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.” 

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo. 

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?” 

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in. 

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you. 

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact. 

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice. 

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur. 

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises. 

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons. 

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed. 

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

[forlix]

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫・h.h.

— an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.

words・2.5k pairing・ex-boyfriend!hyunjin x gn!reader genres・angst, mutual pining, hurt w/no resolution, established (former) relationship, Airport Scene™ warnings・implied toxicity, strong language, Not a Happy Read

a/n・dear anon who asked where this went after i posted and deleted it a few months ago & dear other anon who requested mentioned hyune angst: this is for u, my loves

“I’m outside,” was how you were greeted over the phone earlier, in a tone so callous and cold that you barely recognized the speaker. Barely.

“Sorry, you’re what?”

“You have a flight today, right? I said I’d take you to the airport.”

One second, you were at a complete loss; the next, you thought you were going to erupt with how much you felt and how much you wanted to say, the weight of the situation hitting you with full force. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, had just materialized outside your home with no warning at the ass crack of dawn and suggested you get into a car alone with him for an hour.

As if that wasn’t the very last thing you wanted to do.

Briefly, you reflected on how you parted ways; you wouldn’t say the breakup was malicious, but it certainly wasn’t amicable, either. The longer your relationship went on, the more questions you raised—important and unavoidable considerations of your future together, none of which Hyunjin could give you substantial answers to. Whether it was because he couldn’t or because he simply didn’t care to try, you didn’t know. But the fact that you had to ask yourself that at all was enough for you to take a step back.

Distance morphed into passive aggression. That, in turn, precipitated constant conflict. The starlight that you saw in Hyunjin fizzled further with every biting word and slammed door. The resulting supernova was far from the beautiful spectacle you’d been promised in your astronomy textbooks.

Standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment was your fallen star in the flesh.

“Let me do this, Y/N."

You’d gone silent for what felt like whole minutes before Hyunjin spoke again.

"Please," he added. You perceived how the word weakened towards the end, some of the frost in his voice displaced by quiet exasperation.

It was these observations, plus the time displayed on the clock hanging above your bathroom door, that prompted you to take your luggage in hand and leave your apartment. You were going to miss your flight if you stood there, glowering silently, for any longer.

When you emerged into the frigid morning, you spotted Hyunjin’s silhouette immediately, and something inside you came undone, as though a knot had been doing itself over and over since you and him parted ways. Your eyes locked together, your gaze contemplative, his a little surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect you to accept his offer.

The first word that came to your mind was exhausted. You could tell that the shadows on his face weren’t just products of the lone streetlight above his head; he had his back curved in a slouch that made him look a few inches shorter than he was. You were reminded of a balloon with an indiscernible opening somewhere on its surface, gradually and inevitably deflating.

Much to your irritation, the second word to surface in your mind was beautiful. Hyunjin’s normally sharp features, from what you could see beneath his hood, were bare and smooth from fatigue; thick strands of dark hair, longer than you remembered, fell effortlessly over his forehead and his cheekbones; his figure somehow looked even broader, leaner when fitted in the loose material of a hoodie and sweatpants.

He was the spitting image of a man you used to know, who looked just like this whenever he wandered into your bedroom at the end of the day, whenever he wrapped you into his arms and littered kisses over your skin until sleep overcame the both of you like a warm, clear tide, whenever he greeted you with a smile that shone like the tropical sun the next morning.

You were standing in front of a ghost.

You broke eye contact first, averting your eyes to your luggage instead. Just in time to see and feel his hand brush against yours when he took your suitcases from you and loaded them into the trunk, all without saying a word.

Now, twenty minutes have passed since Hyunjin started driving, and forty remain before you reach the airport. The vehicle is deathly silent save for the drone of wheels against pavement and wind whistling against dusty windows. You haven’t looked at Hyunjin since you met him outside your place. Instead, your eyes are fixated on the lights of Seoul and the way they flicker out of sight one by one as you drive further away.

And you remember.

The different memories you have of this car blow through your mind like you’re skimming a flipbook. That time you burst into tears mid-drive and Hyunjin pulled over on the side of the highway, giving you his undivided attention as you ranted about the terrible day you’d had. That time you noticed a paparazzi van stationed around the corner and the two of you sank so low in your seats that you had to later unfold yourselves from beneath the glove compartments. The assorted dog-shaped air fresheners you bought for him, a new one hanging from the rear-view every month (except the one that resembled Kkami, which stuck around for almost a year). The caffeine-flavored kisses shared over the cupholders between the seats, one person tipping over the drinks precariously, the other moving to catch them with a soft huff of laughter. The extra hoodie he kept in his backseat for if you ever accidentally underdressed when you went out together. The playlist you curated together, always playing quietly in the background.

You never gave this car a second thought when you and Hyunjin were together, but it is only now that you realize the place felt a little like an extension of home, of him.

The silence becomes fucking excruciating.

You are not sure if Hyunjin is interested in speaking to you. You’re less sure if you even have anything to say to him. But you open your mouth anyway.

“Thank you,” you say, hardly audible. “For doing this.”

A pregnant pause follows. Hyunjin probably wasn’t expecting you to start a conversation—neither were you, to be fair.

Little do you know that he has been trying and failing to string together a sentence since the moment he started the engine, and hearing your voice feels like clouds parting on a foggy day, a singular ray of sunshine settling on his cheek.

“It’s no trouble,” he returns. He’s quiet for a while after this, and you’re beginning to think the conversation is already over when he clears his throat.

“How are you feeling? About the trip, I mean.”

“Good. I think it’ll be nice to get away from Seoul for some time.”

Your choice of answer is intentional, and you can tell by Hyunjin’s lack of immediate response that he picks up on this.

“And you?” You return. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, thanks. The members and I went to the states a few days ago, finished up album promotions there.”

“Oh, right.” He’d told you about this; they’d been in Japan prior, if you remember correctly. “And everything went well?”

“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”

“When did you get back?”

You don’t expect him to hesitate at such a simple question, but he does.

“Few hours ago,” he mumbles.

This takes you a few seconds to process. And then, so surprised at his answer that you can no longer help yourself, you finally lift your gaze to the side of Hyunjin’s face.

Your eyes comb over the fluorescent lights of the highway illuminating the slope of his nose; the weariness clouding his irises; his teeth latched gently around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying another word.

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you, too, only for a few seconds and more out of anxiety than anything. But you have long mastered the art of reading the fine print of his facial expressions, and that brief interval is enough for you to catch what hadn’t been there the last time you’d looked him in the eye: the true reason why he’d hardly set his bags down on the dormitory floor before he was leaving again, piling into a car and going to you; the same entity that you know is etched all over your face, too.

Yearning.

He is the one who looks away first this time, with a soft snap of his head like he has to force himself to do it—but the damage has already been done.

“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath, and you mean it in every sense of the word.

And it’s so unexpected (and so damn true) that it wrests a laugh from Hyunjin’s lips, the sound every bit as light as it is dark. The bittersweet smile that it leaves behind on his face mirrors helplessly onto your own.

You don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the drive.

The sun has risen by the time Hyunjin pulls up to the curb of the international terminal, but there’s hardly anybody around at this time of day, so he doesn’t mask up before stepping out of the car. He places your suitcases in front of you, then holds up a finger as a silent gesture of wait right there—and he dashes up the curb, beelines towards the line of trolleys, and pulls one over. 

You feel a helpless warmth in your fingertips as you haul your suitcases onto the metal platform together. Even now, he’s taking care of you, as thoughtlessly and naturally as respiring.

“Is that everything?”

“I think so.”

And the two of you find yourselves two feet apart and facing each other, examining your counterparts as if the answer of what the fuck to say now lies in the curves of their cheeks, in the purse of their lips.

But all you obtain from looking at Hyunjin is a glimpse of that wicked entity again, yearning, now in the form of eyes softened by the sunrise and lips parted by forbidden words, sitting readily on the tip of his tongue.

You feel a deep, hollow sadness within you, derived from knowing and hating that no amount of yearning will change the reality that he’s not yours anymore.

“Have a great trip,” Hyunjin says at last. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will,” you answer. “Thank you again. Get some rest today.”

Your arms move to push your trolley, but not before they nearly twitch in his direction with how much you want to hug him goodbye. The last thing you see before turning around is his hand in the air, and then you enter the airport, wondering vaguely if you will ever see him again.

You're in a bit of a numb state as you check in your bags and step into the line for security. The last hour has left you feeling like your heart and mind have filled with static—the kind that shows up when there are too many television signals in the air, all of them unintelligible and amorphous.

But then there is a shout of your name behind you, so urgent that the familiar voice cracks over the last syllable, like bone breaking upon boulder. You turn around.

The white noise clears.

The soles of Hyunjin’s sneakers echo as he runs across the mostly-empty airport; his hood has been knocked down and his long hair set free, combed backward by the wind; there are other eyes on him, but he is only looking at you, something else burning in his gaze now, something certain and familiar. 

You move your suitcases aside and extend your arms, your pulse racing with anticipation—just in time for him to positively crash into you. He very well could have hurt you with how quickly he’s moved toward you, but the very instant his skin meets yours, he’s gathering you so tightly and securely in his arms that he cushions his own fall, costing you only of the breath in your lungs.

And the two of you fuse together like a cosmic collision, imperfect but quintessential. The moon’s craters themselves.

He knots one hand in your hair and cradles the back of your neck with the other; you form fists around the fabric of his hoodie, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. And you feel the tears come at last: tears of relief, of regret, of remembrance.

There are a billion things Hyunjin wants to say to you then. He wants to thank you for loving him. He wants to blame you for loving him. He wants to tell you that it was all worth it for him, so long as he was once the reason that you smiled. He wants to convince you—and himself—that nothing was meant to last forever, that the two of you were destined to burn out, the same way even the biggest and brightest of heavenly bodies have shelf lives too.

But there is one train of thought that overshadows the rest. It rings louder and truer than anything he has ever known and emerges straight from the chambers of his heart.

“I—” He sounds shattered when he speaks, his voice muffled where his lips touch your skin, his words a rasp that is only audible to you. “I still—”

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing your watering eyes. “Me too.”

And you think the shaky “fuck” that leaves his lips is an apt summary of the absolute mess that the two of you have found yourselves in: entirely and obtusely enamored with the person who has proven themselves to be incompatible with your love, time and time again.

You are only willing to pull away far enough from Hyunjin so that you can look at him, his cheeks now damp with saltwater and flushed with emotion, his dreary eyes swimming with adoration and sorrow. You cradle his face with both hands, and he drops his arms to circle around your waist. His fingers lace together against the small of your back.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you murmur. You wipe at his tears with your thumbs, touch your forehead to his. “We’re gonna be okay, Hyun.”

His reply is so sad and so small that your heart feels like it’s being carved out of your chest with a blunt pocket knife. “When?”

You don’t know the answer.

You don’t know the answer when you finally go through security, the final boarding call for your flight booming through the intercom, Hyunjin’s face buried in his shaking sleeves.

You don’t know the answer when you return to Seoul a few months later, and Hyunjin is not there to give you a lift this time.

You don’t know the answer when your birthday passes and you still receive texts from Hyunjin’s parents, wishing you well, reminding you to take care of yourself. Nor do you know the answer on the birthday after that, or the birthday after that, which is when the texts stop coming.

You won’t know the answer for a very long time—so much so that you spend years of your life doubting there’s an answer at all. But you find it one day when you least expect it, and it congeals in your mind like expired milk, numbs your mouth like the strongest of anesthetics. 

You have your answer then, but you don’t want it.

You never have.

🔖・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Backstage Birthday Pass ⊹ James Hetfield (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: oral sex, fingering, dressing room sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie

The nylon and polyester material of the lanyard haphazardly swinging itself around your neck, connects with the thin material of the top of your dress, as you steadily and sneakily make your way through and past the ever-growing line of your boyfriend's band's fans. Hushed whispers erupt around you as you duck and swivel around a few people who immediately begin to recognize you, but they quickly quiet down and send you a secretive smile as soon as you raise a finger to your lips and silently respond back to their excitement with a cheeky wink and a wave of your own.

A weighted, yet light feeling of relief floods through you once you make it past the familiar five men standing near a foldable table without gaining their attention, and finally see the door with the tarnished and retaped STAGE DOOR - BAND AND CREW ONLY sign Kirk had instructed you to enter into once you got there. Your heart begins to pound as five more doors come into view, with James' being the last at the end of the narrow and barely lit, makeshift hallway. An unfightable bout of fondness fills you as soon as you push his door open, the birthday balloons and already half-eaten cake you and the crew had brought in earlier, unbeknownst to James, were already tied down to and resting against the lighted up dressing room table adjacent to you. Used solo cups pile around a deserted and dented keg to the far left of you, and you laugh out loud at the picture of him that was attached to it, your joyous sound bouncing off of the walls as you place your bag and oversized jacket down on the nearest chair.

You bend down to take off your heels, before deciding against it, already fully knowing how much your boyfriend takes pleasure in undressing you himself. Flattening your fingers against the lower bridge of your spine, you make sure that the sewn in lace of what's underneath your dress is still tied together and in place, before making your way over to the turned off radio near the bathroom. You run your slightly shaking fingertips over the hard plastic covers of the disarrayed and tossed around cassette tapes, a grin showing delight on your face as you pick up the one you know Cliff and Jason left behind for you on purpose. Light beats and a slowed down tempo reverberate through your eardrums and the rest of the room after you press play, and you allow yourself to slowly pace around the room, your nerves beginning to get the best of you as time slowly passes by.

Before you can psych yourself out and walk back out into the hall, multiple pairs of heavy and recognizable, booted footsteps lazily make their way towards you, and the dressing room you're hiding in. You widen your eyes and quickly turn around to face the lighted up bulbs surrounding his mirror, tilting your head downwards to hide your face behind your hair. A small squeak from the door is the only sound that indicates someone partially walked their way inside, and you take a deep breath before lifting your head to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"Pretty sure you need a backstage pass to be in here," James drawls out, his uninterested tone halting just like his breath once his own pair meet yours. Kirk and Lars wear shit eating grins behind him, and the sound of their amused chortles settle you enough to smile back at them through the reflective glass, before twisting around to face the three of them entirely. Bright blue irises widen and dilate as he takes you in, and he only come back to once a hand is smacked onto his back, and his two bandmates and your mutual friends turn to leave. A beat of heavy silence wavers between the two of you, before you two beam at each other in unison, and hurry to meet in the middle. "Holy shit."

Strong arms and the smell of sweat and faded cologne wrap and envelop themselves around you, as you etch your own into the stretch of his collarbones and shoulders as he bends down to lift you up. You wetly smile and bury your head into his disheveled blonde curls momentarily, before leaning back to meet his eyes squinting from the largeness of his smile. "How good is a backstage birthday pass around here?" You ask cheekily, your playful question going unanswered as he uncurls an arm from around you to use his hand to guide your head towards his. The first rough brush of his facial hair against your own soft skin draws a hilted gasp out of you, which he eagerly swallows down and licks onto. You hold on tight as you're blindly walked backwards, and only half flinch when the parts of your bare back make contact with the cool wall behind you.

Frosting, the aftertaste of beer, and a whisper of your name is all you can focus on as James swipes the tip of his tongue behind your teeth, and grins against your swelling lips as you tremble out his own in a pathetic attempt of using your voice. The sound is loud and slick as he separates his mouth from yours, and inches back to the point where his chest is only brushing against yours. Thick and calloused fingertips hold your head in place as he sucks in a deep breath, his own expression looking fucked out and wild from just a simple kiss alone. "How the hell did you get here?" The tone in his voice is beatific, blissful even, as the arm and curled palm holding you upright begins to slightly tighten around you, as if they were subconsciously checking to see if you were actually there.

"The crew, and the boys and I, came up with the plan a few weeks ago," You answer halfheartedly, your lips still wet from your guys' mixed saliva, and your head feeling dazed as you look back at him in person for the first time in almost two months. "I didn't want to wait for the end of the leg of tour to see you, so I pitched the idea, and everyone was down," your left hand comes up to entangle itself in his mane, your breath hitching in your chest as you watch his eyelids flutter at the sensation of the gentle tug your matching ring gives around a few strands. "Missed you." You finish, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, your eyes beginning to dampen with the sudden onslaught of emotion building itself inside of you. James leans forward to place a kiss on your forehead and carries you towards the large chair in front of his mirror, before uncaringly shoving his cake to the side and placing you down on top of the finished wood instead.

He grins as you temporarily forget about your teary eyes and emotional confession, and laugh instead, your arms loosening enough around him for your hands to slide down and rest in the small space between his half-zipped up leather jacket and his black t-shirt. "You already know I missed you too, baby," the large palm pressing itself against the back of your head, slides itself down to trail its fingertips down the expanse of your neck, your boyfriend letting out a quiet, yet heavy sound as you instinctively turn your head to make more room for him. "Damn near lost my mind without you." Warmth settles in your midsection, and you risk tearing the slit on the side of your dress as you spread your legs further apart, so he can fully step in between them, and press his upper half flush against your own.

"Is that right?" You nearly whisper, a moan being hastily swallowed in your throat as James groans from your tone and bends down to rest his forehead against yours, before almost dazedly nodding. You pinch his jackets zipper in between your right thumb and index fingers, slowly tugging it down as you use your other to glide it down his front, only stopping once your palm makes direct contact with his belt buckle. You earlier nervousness fully dissipates as you take in and acknowledge that he's just as hungry and as yearning for you, as you are for him. "I lost my mind the first night I had to sleep without you," you admit, elongating your tongue to moisten both of your guys' lips at the same time with the motion. "Had no one to keep me warm, or keep me feeling full." He moans outright at that, the huskiness of the sound coming from his earlier three-hour performance, enough to set your nerves on fire, and for you to enclose your fingers around the tongue of his belt to tug him closer. You arch your back off the mirror and hastily pull his jacket down his broad shoulders, your legs bending and raising to wrap themselves around his waist as he follows suit after you to tug his t-shirt over his head.

You watch as his hair falls back down unevenly on his shoulders, the light barreling itself onto the both of you looking like a halo around him, as he presses himself against you in only his unfastened jeans and his weighted boots, and the chain holding his ring right against the center of his chest. You settle the sharp points of the bottom of your heels into the back loops of his belt holders, and gently tap the rough material of your shoe against his ass, his wide and shocked smile becoming blurred as he uses his arms to barricade you against the glass. Your chest heaves as he takes advantage of you leaning back, to lean down and press kisses into the deep v-line of your chest, the scuff of his facial hair making your skin deliciously alight with red. You close your eyes and gape your lips open around a silent exhalation of pleasure as his mouth travels up to your left shoulder, and as he uses his teeth to tug the thin spaghetti strap down to your bent elbow.

"Being away from me for two months made you feel bold, huh? Where's my girl who'd just take it, and let me control how I move and bend you over?" You mewl as James presses his tongue into the flesh above your breast, his appendage pausing over a foreign feeling on his tongue, too thick and too designed to be an average bra. Your boyfriend leans back and raises an eyebrow, his eyes trained on your expression and facial features as one of his hands comes up to tug your other strap down. The rest of your dress pillows down onto your lap, and your walls flutter at the strangled curse he lets out, as your pushed up breasts in your satin based one piece fully come into view. "You're trying to kill me," He breathes out in wonder, unable to stop himself from bringing his hands up to grasp onto the mounds of your tits, and sliding them down your lace laden hips. "Fucking walking and breathing dream, you are."

You use your legs around him as leverage as he taps at your sides to have you lift your bottom half from the table, and you fight back a shiver at the look on his face, and at the cool temperature of the wood underneath you now being pressed against your nearly bare ass. The back of your head makes a lightly audible connection with the mirror behind you, as James holds onto your legs and lowers his upper half to lie flank on the widening space between them. His fingertips move with finesse over the sewn in designs and lace, before he hooks his left thumb into one of the side bows and tugs it loose. "Not only are you the best present, but you're fucking wrapped like one too," he murmurs the words like he's talking to himself, the rough texture of his fingertips working the lace free from the corset sending wracking shivers down your spine. By the time he has both sides untied up to the sides of your chest, you're fully soaking through the cotton fabric protecting your pussy, and your clit has its own jackrabbiting pulse. James licks his lips as he comes face to face with it, and looks up at you hungrily, the full dilation and the drunk look on his face making another thick pearl of essence slide itself out of you. "Can't wait to get my mouth on you, and ruin this pretty thing you put on just for me."

Your second pulse point begins to become incessant and almost painful, with the press of the ruined thong's cotton feeling like too much, and also not enough at the same time. You reach down to cup his chin with a slightly trembling hand, your breathing already heavily labored, although nothing has truly happened yet. "Please," you begin to plead, the whine in your own voice turning you into an even brighter shade of pink, with the flush starting at the tops of your cheeks, and reaching down all the way to where your one piece was barely hanging on. "I'll be good, I can take it. Just please, please do something." Tears cling to your lash line as James takes his time contemplating, before giving in and tilting his head to press a kiss into your unsteady limb.

"Lay back for me, sweetheart. Don't you worry about a thing." he soothes, as he moves out of your touch to suck a mark into your hipbone, chuckling against your skin as your back immediately arches into the touch, and your clothed clit makes brief contact with the ring dangling mid-air from his chain. The teasing touch of his teeth barely even biting into your skin has you moaning, and wanting nothing else but for him to mark you up, so you can have something semi-permanent on you to remember this night by. His right hand comes down to unlatch the clasp nearest towards the middle of your groin, and you inhale a small breath of relief from the loss of that additional pressure. Before you can thank him, a thick and hot to the touch thumb, is roughly grazing itself over your clothed, swollen pair of lips. The sound you let out sounds nearly inhuman, a dried yet wet, mixture of a cry of relief and frustration. James' mouth disconnects from your now red and purpling, hickied skin, to teasingly hush you, before moving his hands from your hip and left breast, right down to your sex. You sigh in relief as the ruined material is slid down to the backs of your knees, before tumbling down past the ends of your heels and onto the carpeted ground beneath your boyfriend's feet. Before you can even form your kissed bruised lips in a shape to thank him, he's descending down onto you, and your legs are placed onto the backs of his shoulder blades.

The first simple lick against your clit has you tensing, and by the time his tongue is tantalizingly lapping at your quivering entrance, your entire body is seizing. You fingers grip onto his strands for a desperate sense of grounding, while he takes turns in seemingly making out and harshly sucking at your clit, and fucking his tongue in and out of you. You use the slight leverage of having your head and upper shoulders still resting on the mirror behind you to try and ride his tongue, and the slight movement it makes, has you nearly screaming his name. James eats you out as if he's starving, moaning against you like he's enjoying it as much as you are, if not more. You see his eyes flicker up to yours and take in your flushed red and sweating state, and you watch as they roll back into his head in ecstasy, your mouth gaping into a silent wail as one of his hands caresses its way down your calf and up your thigh, to slowly glide an index and middle finger inside of you. The triple sensation of his appendage licking and rubbing against you, and his long and thick and rough fingers curling up expertly to rub at your spot, as well as the textured contact of his facial hair meeting with your pussy, has you nearly blacking out from the enormity of pleasure. Droplets of exertion of having to lift your hips up to ride his tongue and press your heels into the upper part of his back, drip down your chin and find dormancy near the precipice of your breasts, as your boyfriend uses his other hand to reach up and intertwine his fingers with yours.

The unyielding and intense amount of pleasure continues to grow, and you grip onto his hold around your hand like a lifeline, as you see your vision begin to blur and start to whiten, and the tethering heat in your stomach and groin reaches its breaking point. "I'm coming!" You nearly scream, the stutter of his name around an abandoned and desperate exhalation of breath sounding utterly broken as you reach your first orgasm, and you wrap your legs around the nape of his neck.

Shattered attempts of breathing fail you as James continues to lick and suck on you, and he only backs away once tears are streaming down your face, you're pleading repetitively, and your legs are dangerously hanging off the edge of the table currently carrying nearly both of your weight. You lift your head from the glass once you're able to half catch your breath and your vision clears, and gasp out loud at the sight of him. Your slick and release covers and matts itself in the facial hair surrounding his mouth, and runs down his neck in translucent globs, in a mixture of your own arousal, and his own messy spit. You reach forward before you can even second guess it, clasping a hand around the back of his neck to tug him forward, and lick into his mouth. James immediately opens, overwilling and still hungry, allowing you to massage and lap and lick at his appendage, until the taste of yourself is enveloping your own buds and making you feel lightheaded with arousal. Strings of saliva hold you two in place as you slowly break away, the thin and wet strands only breaking apart once you whisper the next few words towards your boyfriend, and he shakily breathes in and erratically nods his head.

"How about you turn me over, and make me watch through the mirror, while your fuck me against this table?" The speed in which you're turned around and pressed forward has you giggling, until James presses a large hand down on the middle of your back, and your hardening nipples are pressed down against the cold surface. You obediently place both of your hands underneath your chin, and leer at him through the mirror, as he holds and maintains your eye contact while unzipping his jeans. The sound of the heavy buckle of his belt hitting the leg of the chair behind you two nearly makes you flinch, until two fingers are gently being guided back into you, making you nearly go cross eyed at the overstimulation.

"What are you doing?" You shakily ask, non-verbally getting your answer as they're soon taken back out, and used to lubricate the thick and long girth and length of his dick. James temporarily leans down to place a kiss on the middle of your bare back, before standing back up and sheathing himself inside of you. You watch as his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, and as your eyebrows furrow and your front teeth find themselves in your plush bottom lip. The feeling of his groin and hips flush against your ass feels innately intimate, especially as he reopens his eyes and looks down at you in the reflection with adoration and earnest. Like the feeling of him being fully inside of you, feels like coming home.

You watch as he seems to shake his head in disbelief to himself, before latching and securing his hands on either side of your waist, and trailing his eyes down to where he disappears inside you. You let out a sigh of relief at the first thrust, the slight twinge of pleasured pain from finally being stretched open after so long nearly making your eyes close in bliss. The second makes your eyes widen, as he leans back until his cockhead is only halfway into your entrance, before he pivots himself fully back inside, the feeling of him hitting your cervix and the sopping sound that comes with him sliding back home, enough to make you both outright moan and clutch at each other. You reach back to grasp onto one of his wrists, while your other stays beneath your chin, so it doesn't connect with the hard surface, due to his roughening thrusts, and the way he yanks you backwards to fuck yourself back onto his length.

"God, baby, you feel so fucking good," he pants, the thick vein running along his shaft pulsating against your fluttering walls with each inch he pivots himself in and out of you. He carefully uses his free hand to stand you up enough that your still heeled feet can fully be placed on the floor, and you take that as enough incentive to force your hips back in slow and methodical circles, a euphoric feeling flooding through you as you catch James cursing to himself under his breath and reaching up to run a hand down his face. You clench around him and suck in a greedy inhalation as his cockhead roughly etches itself against your spongelike spot, and you let go of his wrist to beckon yourself even further back, until the sounds of you connecting with him sound like harsh slaps. Your vision begins to swim, and you swear you can feel saliva bed itself in a puddle near your bottom lip as a strong arm encircles itself around your waist to nearly lift you off the ground once again. "Can't ever go another two months without feeling you again." James nearly grunts, deeply grinding into you as he flushes his entire front against your back to lick and bite at your neck, and you feel his smile at the whine you let out when his incisor nips at your collarbone. Your back bows as he sneakily reaches down to rub at your clit, the first tap of his fingertip against it feeling like a flash of energy being charged into you, making you almost push against him to get away. James removes his mouth from your neck to tsk at you, before shaking his head in a way that almost seems condescending.

"C'mon, angel, you can take it," he taunts through the mirror, unlatching his arm from around you to reach up and loosely close it around your neck, the touch feeling grounding and possessive at the same time. You're propelled forward by the strength behind his next thrust, and the tug on your throat to hold you in place makes you gasp in shocked pleasure. Familiar heat quickly rebuilds as your stomach muscles contract, the thumb he has connected to your clit continuously rubbing figure 8's in a way that makes you feel like you aren't fully connected to your body. You reach up to hold onto him and plead for him to go faster, harder, the sudden need to orgasm coming from the way he buries himself in you and uses you for his own pleasure, while also giving you your own. James watches through the mirror as a stray tear makes it way down your cheek and as you nearly choke around a torn out whisper of his name, before giving in and fucking you with reckless abandon. The force in which he plunges himself and thrusts into you makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your second orgasm tears through you even stronger than when he was going down on you. "That's it, my good girl. Take what you need, milk me dry."

Your walls contract and tighten around him so vicelike, that it almost makes him unable to continue, and you watch through spotty and unreliable eyesight, as he fucks himself into you with a completely gone look on his face. Bright bulbs imprint themselves in the peripherals of your eyes, yet you're uncaring, as you find your footing once again, and circle back and grind until James roughly pulses and paints your walls and cervix with his hot seed. You shallowly exhale as he subconsciously presses himself even deeper, until he's almost making contact with your womb, the last spurt of his ejaculate reaching even farther inside of you than you two think is possible.

Silence thickens the already heated air once you two eventually gain control of your breathing, and that same silence helps you realize that the tape you had placed in the radio earlier, finished before you two did. Embarrassment and mortification fill you to the brim, as you imagine how loud you two must have been, and James laughs out loud as you repeat the same sentiment verbally. Before you can retort, he's carefully removing himself from you, and gently turning you around to face him.

Warm and steady hands are placed on each side of your jaw, and you lean into the kiss you're being guided into with ease. The earlier tongue and heat and passion is now long gone, and is instead replaced with satisfaction and satiation. The sound your lips disconnecting this time is short and sweet, and you lean back against the table to tilt your head upwards and send him an exhausted grin. "Happy birthday, baby." You murmur, the scratch in your throat making your voice sound hoarse. James smiles down at you gently, before shaking his head and spontaneously lifting you up again, his face breaking out in a wolfish grin as you throw your head back and chortle.

"I don't know about you, but I've still got four hours of my birthday left," you're still laughing as your placed down on the large chair you two bumped into earlier, only this time you're on his lap, with your hands resting on his chest, right underneath his chain and ring. Your boyfriend looks up at you as he leans back, the new position making his hardening dick extremely apparent as it rubs itself against your belly button. "And there's no way in hell that I'm done with you yet." You nod with renewed fervor and energy, the metallic clink of your own ring connected to your ankle sounding off against the leg of the chair as you shift back, and you grin against his mouth as you reach back to position and guide him toward your entrance. You glance over at the bag you abandoned earlier, as you slide down the entirety of his length. Once his birthday was over, you'll surprise him with rings that'll actually fit the both of you this time.

[buckleyx]

I just read the cute story of Buck showing the kids the firetruck. I LOVE IT

Can I request a little story of Buck and reader having fun with Chris and Eddie making a comment about them being good parents?

More fluff!

KIDS E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING ANGEL and thank you for the love for the open house fic !! I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEE BUCK WITH KIDS !!!

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Warnings: FLOFFFF

masterlist

"Wait!" You pleaded, holding your hands in the air. Chris let out a giggle as he and Buck walked closer to you. The orange water gun in their hands ready to be fired. You couldn't hold your laughter as they cornered you further into the backyard.

It was Friday night and a massive heat wave just hit Los Angeles. Buck and Eddie just finished working overtime so you promised to take care of Christopher until the end of their shift. When the tired firefighters came home they couldn't help but notice the wholesome life hacks you tried out to help Christopher cope with the warm temperatures. One of them ofcourse, water. When Buck eyed the water guns and balloons he couldn't stop his own excitement from growing. The little kid in him awoke and was ready for the water game of his life.

"What do you think Chris? Should we let y/n go?" Buck teased, resting the water gun against his shoulder while raising his brow.

"Nooooo!" Chris laughed before he and Buck started shooting the water at you. You tried your best to stop the water with your hands but the cold liquid splashed against your side. You squeeled loudly, throwing your head to the side so the water wouldn't hit your face. After you fell completely soaked, you managed to call out for a truce.

Chris smiled widly, running over to Eddie once he noticed his dad step outside on the patio. Buck carefully walked over to you, a mischievous smirk plastered on his beautiful lips. You panted slightly, whipping the water from your face as you looked over at your cocky boyfriend. His face fell once you mirrored his expression. He noticed the dangerous sparkle in your eyes, meaning you had something planned. Before he could react, you grabbed the gun Christopher dropped and started shooting at Buck. The Buckley shrieked loudly. Then proceeded to walk over to you once the gun ran out of water. You laughed loudly, trying your best to quickly run off. You didn't came far, Buck managed to catch you by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. You both couldn't contain the giggles passing your lips as you fell to the ground. You tiredly reached over to your boyfriend. One hand rested on his stomach as the other holded your waist after giving it a playful tickle. You noticed that the water slowly absorbed in the material of his shirt. The short sleeves hugging his biceps perfectly. 'God.' You thought, admiring your boyfriend. Before you could wonder further, your train of thought was quickly abrupted by Buck's lips pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

Chris and Eddie walked over, a wide smile on their lips as they helped you both get back up. "You're smart, Chris. Running off to stay dry." Buck praised. "But I have some bad news for you." Before Chris could react, Buck grabbed him in the air. Hugging him tightly so the water could absord against his skin. Christopher let out a cheerfull yell before hugging Buck back. Eddie smiled in content. A warm feeling took over your chest as you admired your boyfriend. You loved how good he was with kids, especially Christopher and Jee-Yun. The little play dates he would organize and the amount of effort he would put to make them smile. Buck was a perfect uncle and hopefully someday a perfect father.

"I saw you guys at the open house yesterday." Eddie admitted as if he could read your mind. His arms were crossed, pressed against his chest. "You'd make great parents." He looked over at Buck and the smile on his son's lips. "Just saying." He chuckled, throwing his hands up after noticing your wondered expression. You bited down on the inside of your cheeck, trying your best to stop yourself from getting red. Eddie smiled before walking back inside to prepare tonight's dinner. Buck managed to hear what Eddie said. His eyes gazed at yours. His stomach dancing with butterflies at the thought of seeing you as a parent. He couldn't hide the shit eating grin from forming on his lips. He tried playing it cool by putting Chris back on the ground and helping him inside to his father. You followed their action and still deep in thought took place in your friends couch.

Maybe Eddie was right. You thought. Maybe you're ready.

A few moments later Buck wandered in, taking place next to you in the couch. "Christopher is helping Eddie with dinner." He said. "But I think we should check every 5 minutes, because Eddie and cooking." He joked, secretly knowing it was true. You snickered, sinking further into the couch.

"So," Buck started, stretching his arm so you could curl closer in his side. "I heard what Eddie said." Your head perked up, gazing at your boyfriend's beautiful eyes. "What do you think?" You asked.

"I think we should think about it." Buck admitted, caressing your face with his thumb. "Maybe do some research for what works best for us. Doesn't mean we have to do it now. Just... so we can think about it and look things over."

You smiled, you couldn't expect a better answer. Starting with kids can be scary, so you praised your boyfriend for also wanting to take it slow and get informed first without jumping into things. "I'm really happy you say that." You admitted, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"A little Buckley." Buck dreamed. "I can get used to that idea."

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[thetxtdevil]

Ok hear me out, festival yeonjun taking his significant other and being so dang horny cause she dressed cute & couldn't wait for it to be over so they have a quickie in one of the tents he rented 🥴 I'm in deep with this man.

I hear you, and it sounds like summertime is in the air~

---

Bright color tents matching the brightness of the sun. Bells chiming as a sign of winners, sounds of laughter and joyful screaming. You were with your boyfriend, Yeonjun, when someone bombarded you to play their tent game. Reluctant at first, you observe the game and saw the possible prize, the cutest plush fox. You nod at the game host, given darts you throw them at the balloons. Yeonjun watches you throw horribly at the balloons he laughed, but couldn't help but to check you out. He focuses on you biting your lip in concentration, then down to your tight pink crop-tank, down to your flared jean skirt.

You pout at your loss, winning a tiny monkey keychain. Yeonjun laughs again and gives the host another dollar to play. This time he presses his body against yours, letting you pick up the dart, he leads your arm to aim at a balloon. Your hot body felt nice against his, and once you won your fox plushie, Yeonjun had one thing in his mind.

Continuing your journey through the festival, you get a whiff of funnel cake. Looking for the source, you see the booth automatically running and dragging your boyfriend with you. Yeonjun says he's going to find a table, while you wait for your plate. Once a plate full of fried dough and whipped cream is ready, Yeonjun leads you to a tent with one table.

"Oh,,, this is very nice" you smirk as you sit down, "now open wide."

You dig into the dessert shoving it into his face, then you do it again this time leading it into your mouth. The bite was too big, whipped cream was sticking out of your mouth. You were giggling innocently until Yeonjun licks it off your lips. Widening your eyes, you weren't in the mood until you saw his lustful gaze. Realizing the environment, the tent was quiet and dark, looking back at the man you forget the fork and cup his face to your lips.

Yeonjun's hands immediately on your waist deepening the kiss. However, the sitting position was getting uncomfortable, Yeonjun disconnects from you "Get on the table, baby." Pushing the dessert to the side, you slide your bottom on the surface. The man slots himself in between your legs, back to making out, licking up the remnants of the fried dessert. Both of you grinding into each other like horny teenagers, it wasn't long until you felt the man's hard dick brush against you.

Thankful that you chose to wear a skirt for the occasion, Yeonjun simply flips the flared material up. Palming your delicate center before discarding your panties with the discarded dessert. Yeonjun was ramming so hard into you, the table started to move. Biting your lip trying to keep quiet, but it didn't matter. The festival was at peak hours too loud to notice what type of activity that was happening in the tent.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[gustavsbrainneuron]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Common day.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎2015 Bill Kaulitz × female reader

Warnings: fluff & lemon(?.....idk...), this is definitely a "drabble", super hyper mega CHEESY and TACKY(?) etc etc, Bill celebrating an "ordinary day" with reader who hates her own birthday.

Author's note: THIS IS ACTUALLY MADE FOR MY POOKIE BEAR @httpkaulitz !!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYSM sou sua fa numero um jess ^_^ english isn't my first language and blablabla sorry for any mistakes.

Since you were a child, you have always hated your birthday. It wasn't because of getting older itself, but because of the obligation of fake smiles, unwanted attention and worst of all, that "Happy Birthday" that left you embarrassed. Anyway, it was more like an annual reminder of shameful situations, an uncomfortable reminder of how you still hadn't managed to do what you planned and how time passed quickly.

Bill, your boyfriend, knew this. He was surprised when you talked about it after all, who doesn't like their own birthday? With all the sweets and celebration? - was what he asked before you gently slapped his arm. You had heard this question so many times that it was boring to answer it, you just wanted your birthday to be a normal day, maybe a little sweet treat and that's it. Even though you hated this date, Bill thought about how to respect your wish of not celebrating your birthday and at the same time celebrate it in a discreet way, so that it doesn't bother you so much. Thinking about it, he decided he needed to do something, even if it was small but without mentioning your birthday, without balloons, without parties and the unnecessary attention that he knew you hated.

During the morning, Bill woke up earlier than usual and went to the kitchen, trying to prepare something for breakfast for his beloved girlfriend. Bill was happy inside, that date might have been hated by you, but it was the date you were born and imagine if you weren't born? he wouldn't even have the chance to meet someone so special. He decided to opt for something simple but that you liked, a sweet cheese pie, some fresh fruits and a black coffee that he knew you loved. He prepared everything and placed it on a plate, decorating the plate with the fruits.

As it arrived at 11:00 in the morning, Bill decided he would wake you up, even though he knew how much you hated being woken up "early". Mentally he made a deal - not to mention your birthday at all, just act like it was a normal day, right? It's not like he prepared any gifts for you. (yes, he did)

Bill approached the bed with slow steps, not wanting to make too much noise and opened the door to the room shared by the two of you. He made his way to the bedside table, placing the pie and cup of coffee there, at least for now. As soon as he placed your breakfast there, his eyes searched your petite form, seeing you curled up in a ball, covered in several blankets. Not wanting to delay too much, he lowered himself onto the bed, gently climbing onto the bed, making the material jiggle a little as he moved closer to you. "Hey sleepyhead." He whispered lightly, gently taking his hand to your hair, stroking your strands. His voice sounding like velvet and chocolate mixed together, calm and sweet. His eyes watched you as you flinched in response, letting out a long "Mmh..", your hands grabbing the blankets, pulling the fabric to cover your face.

"Come on." He murmured, his two large hands making their way to the blankets, pulling them down, seeing your sleepy expression, which made him chuckle lowly, bringing his face closer to yours to place a tender kiss on your temple. "I made you breakfast in bed." He said, the smell of warm, fresh coffee, along with the comforting and delicious smell of sweet cheese pie, filling the air and entering your nostrils, making your mouth water for a few seconds. "Open those pretty eyes for me, sweetheart. I wanna see your beautiful face first thing today." His voice was low and slightly husky, full of admiration for you.

Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at the boy in front of you, unable to contain a smile that almost instinctively appeared genuinely on your lips. "Breakfast in bed, hm?" You responded to him, taking his hand to pull him closer, covering him with the blankets that were on top of you, creating an extremely comfortable "cocoon". He opened a smile when he heard your sleepy voice, his eyes almost becoming a straight line because of his smile. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him - if that was possible, nuzzling against the warm skin of your neck, taking in your scent. "Yep, I figured we could have a nice, quiet morning together before anything else happens today. Just you and me." He suggested, his voice vibrating against the curve of your neck, his lips brushing against the soft skin. His beard, even though it was almost non-existent, tickled you, making you laugh slightly and move away briefly. "I love you so much, Y/n." He breathed out, pressing an affectionate kiss against your pulse point. In response you just closed your eyes, your smile getting bigger, he was so caring and it melted your heart. "I love you too, Bill." Your answer made Bill's heart swell with happiness, making him move closer to you, gently pressing himself against your body. "That's all I need to hear." He whispered one last time before capturing your lips in a kiss that started out quite sweet and calm and gradually grew more passionate as he explored your mouth. "Mmm..love this mouth." He growled against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and throat, leaving behind a trail of steaming heat. You whined at the contact of his lips on your neck, tilting your head back, letting him have easier access to kiss and mark that area as much as he wanted.

"You almost made me forget that you have to eat your breakfast." He said, more to himself than to you, moving away from your throat, looking at your expression which was now extremely red because of this small but teasing action. "Ugh. Don't tease me!" I protested embarrassedly, gently slapping him on the shoulder, eliciting a fake "ouch" from his lips, followed by a low laugh that dared to escape his throat. "I'll give you that kind of attention later. Now let's focus on eating breakfast before it gets cold!" He gently adjusted his posture, getting out from under the covers, momentarily turning his back to you, turning to face you to show you the pie he had made. You adjusted your posture, sitting on the bed, placing your back against the headboard. You brought your hands to the plate, only for Bill to push the plate away from your hands, not letting you take the plate. "Nuh-uh, I want to feed you!" "No way! I'm not a kid anymore, you know." "Please, the pie is delicious I promise. :(" he begged, pouting, looking at you with those brown eyes. Sighing, you just nodded, earning an immediate happy smile from Bill.

"Open up for me, princess." He teased gently, using his fork to gently poke your lips, making you sigh once again and open your mouth, letting him feed you the pie he had made. The flavor seemed to explode in your mouth, it was sweet and savory at the same time. Even though you hated the mix of sweet and savory, the pie provided a contrast of flavors, a strangely good contrast. "That's really good!" You said as you chewed the pie, speaking clumsily with your mouth open as you looked at Bill, who looked back at you and let out a low laugh. "See? I told you." He beamed at what you said, his face showing a little surprise due to your very positive reaction to the taste of the pie. His thumb went to your face, caressing your cheek gently as he fed you another small piece of the pie, watching your reactions against the flavors of the pie, his gaze passing briefly over your figure before returning to look at your face again.

After you tasted the pie, Bill tasted it too, wanting to see if it was really good, so the two of you were eating and laughing at the comments you made to each other. You were happy that he didn't throw a party to celebrate your birthday but something very simple, respecting your wishes.

Seeing your relaxed expression, knowing how happy you were without the stress of your birthday, Bill decided that now was the perfect time for one more surprise. "Well. Now, I have a little something for you, Y/n." He said, humming with happiness, slipping out of bed quickly and darting towards his closet. A few seconds later, he returned carrying a small box with a shining star on top, handing the small box into your hand, looking at your face curiously, studying your reaction. "For me? You didn't need to, silly." You said, taking the box, opening it and seeing a small necklace with a four-leaf clover pendant. "It's supposed to bring you luck, you know? On common days." Bill smiled, climbing onto the bed, gently taking the necklace from your hand, settling in behind you and gently brushing your hair aside to place the necklace around your neck. The way he spoke and was putting on the necklace made you smile almost automatically, he was just the most perfect boyfriend in the world.

[theostrophywife]

the christmas special | the slytherin boys.

author's note: a cute collection of christmas activities that each of the boys would do with you. consider this as my gift to all of you. merry christmas pookies ✨

BLAISE

during first year, you and blaise established a tradition of pranking your friends with elf on a shelf.

some of your most notable accomplishments were: placing your little elf friend on all of the cigarette butts that theo had a horrible habit of littering with and placing it on his desk while the elf smoked one of his fancy expensive italian cigs that he saves for special occasions.

for mattheo, blaise took an action figure and smeared it in red food dye to commemorate all of the fights he seemed to get himself into.

for draco, you slipped a tiny amount of purple dye in his shampoo which turned his hair lavender for an entire week.

for enzo, blaise ransacked his honeydukes stash and left a mountain of wrappers on his bed.

for regulus, you replaced his sleakeasy potion with plain old water, which made his pretty curls frizz up like he'd been electrocuted.

neither one of you were stupid enough to prank tom. that was a one way ticket to an avada.

this year, though, blaise flipped the game on you.

you woke up in your dorm surrounded by flowers and balloons with the elf sitting at the edge of your bed, holding a note that said: call me a christmas, because i'm already wrapped up in you — b.

you chuckled as you read the note. your door swung open, revealing a grinning blaise.

"i thought you might like that one. i have plenty of others, though."

"is that so, zabini? well, let's hear them then."

"are you a christmas tree? because I’m really pining fir you."

"wanna feel my ugly christmas sweater? it's made out of boyfriend material."

you burst into a fit of laughter, making blaise grin. "and my personal favorite, the star may be on top of the tree but you can be the star on top of me."

"blaize zabini, you are ridiculously adorable."

"yeah? did my efforts work then? wanna grab some hot cocoa with your favorite person?"

"oh? is draco free?" you chuckled at the sight of blaise's frown. "i'm kidding, blaise. now come on, i need a sweet treat. besides you, of course."

DRACO

draco was ridiculously competitive, which was a trait that you usually found endearing in your boyfriend, but he was definitely taking this gingerbread house competition to another level.

you had never seen draco so concentrated, measuring each piece with his wand and spreading the icing with such careful precision.

"we're going to win this year, I just know it." he said, his pink tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he secured the roof over your gingerbread house.

"it's not about winning, babe. it's about having fun!"

"fun?" draco asked incredelously. "no, darling, this is about crushing riddle underneath my boot, which I suppose is my own version of fun."

"oi! I heard that malfoy," mattheo complained.

"sorry matty, dray's gone full psycho." you teased, pinching your boyfriend's cheek. "I think it's rather cute though."

"you'd be the only one," theo said with an eye roll.

"don't hate, nott. where's your house anyways?"

theo shrugged while mattheo snorted. "notty boy here got too high and ate the entire thing."

you chuckled. "well, that's less competition for you and I, dray."

"good," draco said with a pleased smile. "now come on, darling. I want you to put on the finishing touch."

you nodded, taking the gumdrops from your boyfriend's hands and sticking them around the perimeter of the house. draco surveyed your hard work, really the only work he let you do since he was so adamant on building the entire thing from scratch.

"it's perfect, love."

"blimey," enzo said, cocking his head at the house. "you two really went all out this year."

tom scoffed. "it's architecturally inaccurate."

you rolled your eyes at the older riddle. "well, we couldn't exactly replicate everything, but i'd say dray did a fantastic job on his house."

"our house, darling," draco corrected. "or at least it will be soon enough."

"is that malfoy manor?" regulus asked.

"precisely," draco confirmed with a proud smile. he looped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss against your cheek. "and i've got the future lady of the manor right by my side."

you giggled, leaning into your boyfriend's touch. "lady of the manor? hmm, I like the sound of that, dray."

ENZO

every year, enzo looked forward to ice skating on the frozen banks of the black lake.

he was terrible at it, but it only made it that much more endearing.

you remembered the first time he dragged you out into the cold during first year, talking your ear off about how excited he was for this time of year.

along with you and enzo, the rest of your friends joined in on the fun. mattheo and theo were absolute menaces on ice, while regulus and draco made a whole competition out of it. pansy and blaise were content to watch in the safety of their enchanted tent, sipping hot chocolate in peace.

over the years, enzo had gotten a little bit better, but he was still a little shaky on the ice. he never minded though since you were always there to hold his hand while you patiently skated around the rink with him at a glacial pace.

you weren't that great at skating either. or so he thought.

until the two of you were chatting, keeping to the makeshift wooden rails at the edge of the lake, when mattheo and theo came barreling past.

"watch out, y/n!"

you clocked the two menaces skating past you at full speed and made a rather complicated maneuver that enzo couldn't have even dreamed of landing.

"oh my god," enzo exclaimed. "are you alright? and what was that? that little twirl and land combo? I thought you couldn't skate, honey."

you smiled sheepishly, cheeks warming at enzo's nickname for you. "it's called an axel jump. I may have told a little fib when I said I couldn't skate..."

"I can see that, love," enzo said with a chuckle. "why would you pretend that you couldn't skate?"

"I didn't want you to feel left out," you admitted shyly. "the boys are always showing off and I don't know, it was kind of nice just to take it slow with you."

"you did that for me?" enzo asked as a grin spread across his face. "i like taking it slow with you too, y/n. I look forward to it every year."

"and here I thought you just really liked the ice and snow."

"are you kidding? I hate the cold," enzo replied, shivering. "but I like when you old my hand and lead me around the rink. and I also like it when you make us hot cocoa with extra marshmallows after. I just like you, honey."

you beamed. "I like you too, enz."

enzo smiled in return, kissing the tip of your frost kissed nose. "now come on, love. show me that move again. it was hot."

MATTHEO

"babe, we're supposed to decorate the cookies not eat them all," you teased, snatching a snow shaped cookie out of your boyfriend's hands.

"but they taste so good," mattheo said with a pout. he flashed his big, brown eyes at you, fishing for sympathy. "you know I can't resist sweet things. why do you think i'm dating you?"

you chuckled at his cheekiness. "nice try, matty. but we have to decorate the cookies first and then you can have a bite."

"oh, i'll have a bite alright," you squealed as he tugged you flush against him, pulling you in for a not so innocent kiss. "there. that should hold me over for a few minutes. at least, long enough to decorate."

you shook your head and handed him the cookies and icing. mattheo hummed, bumping against your hip every so often as the two of you began decorating.

despite his complaints, mattheo's cookies turned out way better than yours.

"how are you doing that?" you asked, staring at the perfect piping on his snowflake.

"it's easy, princess. here, let me show you." mattheo slotted himself behind you, his big hands enveloping yours as he attempted to guide you in replicating his design.

"real smooth, matty. this is just an excuse to wrap your arms around me, isn't it?"

"hmm, no i'm genuinely trying to help."

you raised a brow, backing against his crotch. matty released a low groan. "is that a candy cane or are you just happy to see me, baby?"

"all i'm saying is that i'm more than happy to give you a white christmas, princess."

with a giggle, you turned around and pulled him down to you by the front of his cheesy christmas sweater. his lips met yours in an eager kiss, sighing softly into your mouth. as the sweet taste of icing coated your tongue, you chuckled.

"really, baby? you didn't even last a half hour before sneaking a taste."

"you're lucky I haven't bent you over this table yet, mi amor." his low, husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

"on second thought, i'm not opposed to having that sweet treat a little early."

mattheo smirked. those big, brown eyes were nearly black as he lifted you onto the counter, big hands roaming underneath your sweater as his lips attached themselves to your neck.

"I was hoping you'd say that, my little snowflake." you squealed as he pulled you towards him, smirking as he knelt before you. “let’s put you on the naughty list tonight, y/n.”

“I don’t mind, matty. I know you’ll make me feel real nice.”

“damn right, baby.”

REGULUS

you and regulus had not planned on getting this drunk.

the game plan was to tackle decorating the common room with ample snacks, spiked eggnog, and a classic christmas playlist.

you hadn't accounted for reggie's heavy hand when it came to making drinks.

"how much rum did you put in this thing, reg?" you asked between giggles, wrapping tinsel around yourself like a makeshift scarf. "i'm really feeling it now and we're only halfway done."

"hmm, dunno, I kind of just eyeballed it." regulus responded, dangling two emerald ornaments through his ears. "I also may have nicked the bottle from malfoy. he's going to throw an absolute fit when he finds out."

"my father will hear about this!" you exclaimed, repeating draco's iconic line. "how dare you put your peasant lips on my vintage rum?"

regulus snickered, clutching his sides. "don't make me laugh, love. i'm already smashed enough as it is."

"honestly, that's what they get for making us decorate all by ourselves."

"hmm, I don't mind. at least I got to spend more time with you."

you chuckled. "we're already attached at the hip as it is."

regulus raised a brow, pulling you in by your wrist. he stood to his full height and spun you around in a circle before catching you in his arms. "are you trying to say you're tired of me, ma chérie?"

"never. you know you're my favorite person, reggie."

"you're my favorite, too." regulus murmured, his green eyes softening as he swayed. music played softly in the background as he pulled you closer. "dance with me?"

you giggled. "we're smashed, reggie. what if I trudge on your toes?"

"you do that sober anyways," regulus teased. "just humor me, please, y/n?"

you nodded, smiling softly as regulus led you into a waltz. despite his drunkenness, reggie was still the elegant dancer that he always was. it was in that aristocratic black blood, you supposed.

as you swayed in his arms, regulus pressed his forehead against yours, his pretty curls tickling your nose as he smiled. "tu es l'amour de ma vie."

"what does that mean, reg?"

"it means that there's no one else i'd rather get drunk and decorate with besides you. merry christmas, y/n."

you beamed, rising to your tiptoes and kissing his nose. "merry christmas, reggie."

THEO

playing white elephant with your friends was chaotic, to say the least. the annual tradition almost always ended in tears and sometimes even blood.

this time around, you were the one most likely to draw blood.

"that's not fair!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms and glaring at draco. "you only want the heated blanket because I want it. you probably have a thousand fur throws, malfoy!"

draco smirked as he wrapped the white, fluffy blanket around his shoulders. "yes, but I stole this one. from you. that makes it special."

the shit-eating grin he flashed at you was enough to push you over the edge. "i'm going to skin you, you little ferret. give me back my blanket—"

"oh no you don't, dolcezza." a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and held you back from lunging at draco. theo hauled you over his shoulder and set you down on the sofa.

"don't manhandle me, teddy!"

theo bit back a grin as you huffed in indignation. he knelt before you, tapping your nose. "you're being bad, little missy. i'm putting you in time out."

"i'm not a child!" you responded, frowning at your best friend. "besides, draco started it. he stole my bloody blanket!"

"yes, but that's no excuse for violence, is it bella?"

"theodore, you literally bit enzo for taking your gift last year."

"I never claimed to be perfect."

you rolled your eyes, which only made theo chuckle. "tell you what. if you promise not to maim malfoy, i'll buy you as many heated blankets as you want." you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with the offer. "i'll even throw in some hot chocolate and cuddles. the complete teddy package. sound good?"

"okay," you said with a sigh. "but only cause you asked nicely."

theo smiled and kissed your forehead. "good girl. now come on, pans made spiked eggnog."

thirty minutes later, you were curled up on the sofa with theo. you yawned, blinking slowly at whatever mattheo was supposed to be enacting for christmas charade. he was either doing something very vulgar or riding a sleigh. you could never really tell with matty.

"getting sleepy, bella?" theo asked, poking his nose against yours.

"mhm," you murmured, burrowing yourself into theo's neck. he smelled like cigarettes and pine. "will you carry me to bed, teddy?"

"course," theo replied as he kissed your temple. "don't you want to bring your blanket, though?"

you blinked in confusion, but smiled when theo presented you with the fluffy, white heated blanket. "you got it back for me?"

"draco and I made a deal," theo confirmed as he wrapped the blanket around your shoulders.

"threatening to throw me off of the astronomy tower if I don't give you the blanket does not constitute as a deal, theodore," malfoy said with a frown.

theo waved him off as he scooped you into his arms. "the important thing is, you've got your blanket back."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "you're the best, teddy."

"anything for you, tesoro." theo murmured softly as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms.

"wait!" mattheo exclaimed. "you're under the mistletoe." he pointed to the small sprig hanging atop the alcove you were currently under. "that means you two have to kiss."

theo flushed, his gaze dropping to your lips as he shifted nervously. "we don't have to, bella—" the words died in his throat as you tugged at the front of his sweater, dragging his lips down to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet and you melted into theo like the missing piece of a puzzle finally slotting into place after years and years of pining and yearning.

you smiled as theo blinked slowly, those pretty eyes brimming with love and adoration. "you—I—wow," he breathed.

"c'mon, teddy. you promised me cuddles." you chuckled, brushing your thumb over his lips. "and kisses too?"

theo grinned. "kisses too, amorina."

TOM

tom had never really been a big fan of the holidays.

he certainly had no interest in taking part in something as childish as secret santa.

yet the second he heard that you were participating, tom was suddenly the first one to toss his name in the ring.

by luck of the draw (he threatened enzo who was the one to actually pick your name to switch), tom got you this year and even he had to admit that he was excited to exchange gifts.

the annual slytherin christmas party was the usual sensory nighmare of tom's dreams, but he soldiered through the incessant chattering, itchy wool jumper, and heavy handed spiked hot chocolate. all because of you.

"are you having fun, pumpkin?"

tom's brow quirked at the nickname, but made no protest as you sidled up next to him. on anyone else, the red velvet dress with white fur trim, ornament earrings, and christmas lights necklace would've looked tacky, but for some reason, tom found it quite endearing on you.

"it's not horrible," tom conceded.

"not horrible? why, thomas, that's almost a compliment."

"don't push your luck, doll."

you chuckled as you looped your arm through his. "wouldn't dream of it," you responded cheekily. "now come tommy, it's time for secret santa."

tom watched as the rest of the group exchanged gifts. more accurately, he watched you clap and cheer at every gift that youy friends opened. the look of genuine joy on your face was almost cracked a smile out of him.

he supposed it wasn't such a terrible thing to endure.

"your turn, y/n," pansy said.

all eyes were on you as you took your gift from the pile, carefully unwrapping the pretty green and silver paper. tom fought the urge to grin as you took the black silk ribbon off of the box and tied your hair back with it.

you pulled out the first gift, which was a set of fresh coloured inkpots from france that you religiously used to write your notes with.

"oh my god, these are my favorite! and I just ran out too," you exclaimed excitedly.

the next gift were a pair of the high heeled boots tom had caught you staring at in hogsmeade. you were convinced that your feet would get too cold in them and that they'd hurt your feet, so tom charmed them to be comfortable and warm, which you discovered with delight when you pulled them on.

"i love them! i'm going to wear them all the time."

you peered into the box, which contained one last gift. a pretty pink leather bound journal that had your initials scrawled in gold ink on the cover. your eyes immediately snapped up to tom's.

"how fancy," pansy said. "any guesses on who your secret santa is, y/n?"

"tommy!" you said with a grin. "i've only complained to him a thousand times about running out of my coloured ink and he was with me when I was eyeing these shoes in the village." you hugged the journal to your chest, smiling shyly at him. "and I told him how much I liked his fancy journal."

"now we can match, doll."

"thank you, thank you, thank you," you said excitedly, enveloping tom in a tight hug. the rest of the group looked on curiously, smirking amongst themselves at the fact that tom allowed the gesture. if it were anyone else, tom probably would've hexed them within an inch of their life.

"does that mean you like it, y/n?"

"no," you said, still maintaining a death grip around his neck. "i love it, tom. it's perfect. you're perfect, pumpkin."

tom blinked as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. your cherry lip gloss branded his skin, but he didn't mind one bit. he would wear the mark proudly.

"do my eyes deceive me?" mattheo crooned. "are you blushing, brother?"

"aw, how cute. pumpkin’s got a little crush," theo added.

tom glared at both boys. "you have two seconds to run."

mattheo and theo both looked at each other before taking off in the opposite direction.

"really, tommy?" you teased, giggling.

"they're being twats."

"such a grumpy little grinch," you exclaimed, tapping his nose. "at least let me give you your gift before you maim the boys."

"can I have a hint?"

"let's just say you and nagini will be warm and cozy this christmas," you said with a devious smile. "I made the two of you matching jumpers!"

"you better be joking, doll."

"oh, i'm as serious as a heart attack, tommy.” tom scowled as you slipped your fingers through his. "but don't worry, you get more than one gift tonight."

"you're lucky you're cute, y/n."

you chuckled, standing on your tiptoes to press a matching kiss on his other cheek. "yeah, but not nearly as cute as you, pumpkin."

[6rookie-writer0110]

Fallen Night

John Constantine x Rich Reader (Gender-Neutral)

Request - John Constantine x rich reader who spoils him

John came back a mess from a mission, he was gone for days. His trench coat is ripped and he smells bad, but you couldn't help to kiss him.

“I missed you, but I need a shower,” John said.

“Yeah, you smell so bad,” You said.

John starts to take off his clothes and gets in the shower. You throw away his clothes and he is happy to be home. You and John have been dating for a while and he asked you to move in with him. He knows you are not used to living in a small house since you grew up in a rich family. But you told him you don't care about the size of the house.

He comes out of the shower and puts on clean clothes. Then you start to make something to eat.

“Finally some real food,” John said.

“The food is bad in hell?” You asked.

“It’s rubbish, love,” John said.

You and John start to eat together. He starts to tell you how he got annoyed by the legends.

“Oh, I got something for you!” You smiled.

“What is it?” John asked.

You rushed to get the gift from the closet, then you come back. You give the big box and you can't stop smiling.

“Open it” You smiled.

“Okay, keep your knickers on, I'm going to open it” John smirked.

He starts to open the box and it's a very expensive trench coat. He touched the material and it‘s much better than the one he wears.

“This trench coat feels better than my old coat,” John said.

“Try it on” You smiled.

John puts on the trench coat and he likes it.

“This actually feels good. Love, you didn't have to buy it for me” John said.

“I wanted to. You look very handsome in it” You said.

John kissed you on the lips and you smiled again. At the beginning of the relationship, John wasn't used to being spoiled with gifts and lots of attention. But later on, he got used to it but he isn't the type ask for gifts or anything in general. John is a simple man, but he does appreciate what you do for him.

✬ ✬ ✯ ✯

You bought expensive chocolate and you share it with your boyfriend.

“Please tell me, you didn't spend over a hundred pounds on chocolate,” John said.

“First of all, it wasn't hundred dollars,” You said.

“How much was it?” John asked.

“Five hundred dollars...” You said shyly.

“What!?” John yelled.

He almost choked on the chocolate, you start to pat his back.

“Five hundred pounds! Are you insane, love!?” John said.

“First of all, this was made by the best chocolate maker ever. Do you have any idea how long I had to wait and get them!? And you like it, because you keep eating it” You said.

“You are making my hair grey faster,” John said.

You rolled your eyes at him. But you and John kept eating the chocolate together. Later, you and John had to go on a double date with Ava and Sarah.

----

It's John’s birthday and he doesn't want a party at all. John couldn't help to smile when you surprised him with cake, some balloons, and gifts.

“Happy birthday, John!” You said.

You hugged him then he kissed you on the lips.

“Thank you, love,” John said.

You kissed him again and he smacked your ass. You lit the candles and you took a picture of him, you don't share the picture with anyone. You just save the picture on your phone. He blows out the candle then you cut a piece of cake for him. You and John start to eat the cake

“Here is your gift,” You said.

“Good cake. Let's see what you got for me” John said.

He had some frosting on his lip, you wipe the frosting off his lip with your thumb.

“Do you like it?” You asked.

You got him a costume made lighter and his name is craved on the bottom. And there are two rare diamonds in the middle.

“Wow, Y/n I'm speechless but I love it,” John said.

“I’m glad, you like it” You smiled.

He gave a peck on the lips. He starts to open the other gifts then you and John ate more cake. John did like all the gifts that you bought for him.

“You know, I don't like celebrating my birthday but with you is better,” John said.

You gently hold his hand.

“You mean so much to me,” You said.

“You better not tell anyone about this,” John said.

“I won't tell anyone,” You said.

John kissed you on the lips. Then he lit the cigarette with the new lighter and he couldn't help to smirk.

[popcornforone]

Spoilt

A Mr Ben Fic

Day 31 of Pedrototber (SAG Awards Prompt)

Masterlist

31 days

31 Fics

Over 32000 words

I started writing these on September the 20th when I was feeling unwell on holiday & now here we are. The last one.

Honestly I’m gonna feel a little bit lost. This has been such a project & im incredibly proud of everything I’ve written & of all the love I’ve received. So this one is written entirely for me. I am my main audience & today is my Birthday (Seriously it is) so I thought I would give myself the gift of Mr Ben!

Synopsis:- It’s your birthday & your boyfriend Ben gives you the perfect start to your evening.

Word count:- 1500

Warnings over & above:- piv sex, lots of passion & swearing & promises, basically whatever you want Ben to do for your that sweet & spicy to start your birthday off he does.

Thank you all so so much for reading all of these. I’m incredibly proud of what everyone has done art, edits & writing wise.

A huge shout out to @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for setting this all up. Maybe I’ll be back next year for it.

October 31st, Halloween. Yep it’s that day again. The day when you are kind of forgotten in the larger scheme of it all. Everyone wants to go do a fright night, or pick pumpkins, or trick or treat. But no you don’t. The world might celebrate Halloween, but you don’t. You celebrate your birthday.

Unless it’s the weekend you can’t even ever really have your birthday off. You work as a Payroll advisor, so the last day of the month people are always asking where their payslip is or why it’s different to last month. Work did remember this year. A balloon was put on your desk, & you all went out for lunch. A dodgy burger place, they actually do make a wonderful cheese burger, you wouldn’t think it but they do. When you’d done your last set of payslips they said you could leave early. So you’ve got home & face timed your family. You’re seeing them all tomorrow. You & your mum share a birthday week so always do a big joint thing every year. Your sister who’s having a baby in the spring has even volunteered to pick you up so both you & your partner can drink.

You’ve opened the cards that arrived & have made a cup of tea & are sat on the sofa wondering what to do before your other half arrives at 5ish depending on the traffic. He has less lessons on Thursday so you know he will be in then, he’s usually home before you on a Thursday anyhow. So you sit there flicking through your iPad when up it pops on your feed.

PEDRO PASCAL IS PEOPLE MAGAZINES SEXIEST PERSON ALIVE!!!

You almost drop your drink. You sit there & scroll through the article & admire his new photo shoot. He always looks so soft & sweet like he is boyfriend material, but you know deep down he’s probably a menace. This sends you down a rabbit hole & it’s not long before you have the SAG award speech he gave, up on the main TV on Netflix. Admiring those curls & that whole outfit & how adorable & humble he was. You rewind it each time after he does the interview afterwards to go back & watch his moments again. It’s your comfort as you sit there sipping your tea, sighing.

“Pedro again” you leap around like you’ve been caught masturbating. You hadn’t heard your partner come in. He’s already taken his coat off & is holding a big bunch of purple tulips for you. You pause the TV. A genuine smile forms on your lips because the one he has for you is contagious.

“What you weren’t here Ben, I needed my fix of a hot man somehow” you joke.

“I know I know” he says as he walks towards you & you lean over the top of the sofa & he kissed your lips tenderly. “But is Pedro here, did he get you flowers & did he just have to fight an old lady off at the shop to get the wine you like for dinner tonight?” You kiss him back. Short little bursts of kisses making you both giddy. Like your teenagers that Ben usually teaches.

“No he’s not” you sigh”you’ll have to do & as you have Tulips & wine I’m not gonna complain.”

“I hope not” says Ben “happy birthday beautiful” He gives you another big kiss before he backs off. “I’m gonna go put these in some water then I’ll come back”

“Okay baby”

It’s only after about 5minutes that your realise Ben hasn’t come back yet. You decide to turn off the SAG awards rerun & put on a Pedro film for background noise, one you both know inside out & can quote, Triple Frontier. You always feel sorry for Pedro character Frankie that he almost dies when that donkey falls from the cliff. You’re about 10mins in when you hear a noise behind you.

“Tadah”

You turn around & your jaw drops before you uncontrollably laugh.

“What” Ben says.

“Seriously”

“Yes”

Ben has gone to the effort to try & curl part of his hair, he’s put on his geeky im marking don’t disturb me glasses, his extra tight trousers which he’s worn once & moaned so much about chafing, & then has all but 2 buttons on a white shirt undone.

“Ben are you seriously trying to cosplay as Pedro Pascal for Halloween?”

He nod & then coughs & then put on the voice which isn’t too much different to his own.

“This is wrong for so many reasons” he says quoting the awards show you watch for comfort “& this is a state of mind you know what I’m saying” you sit there laughing & blushing & extremely aroused.

“Well baby” you flurry your hand to wave him to come join you. “If your Mr Pascal, who would you like me to be to add to your fantasy” Ben then turns bright red & pushes his glasses down his nose, he knows that will get you sodden in seconds.

“Well since you’ve asked so politely, i want you to be the happiest sexiest girl who was ever born on Halloween” he says & he sits down on the sofa & pulls you into his lap. “Forget a celebrity crush, your my girl, & just your smile turns me on” you straddle him & your caress his beard.

“Aww baby” you say before he cups your face & the intense make out begins. Your body already moving knowing pleasure will be coming.”I do appreciate this Ben, but I don’t need Pedro, I just need you, your the man I love, the man I live with, the man who in 6 months time I’m going to share a name with” you then start to nibble on his ear lobe & he moans, he’s got one hand on your arse & the other desperate to find his fly.

“Yea it’s my name you will have baby”

“Im yours, you claimed me long ago”

“Oooh don’t I know it” the noise of the zip fills the room it makes you moan.

“On this sofa after a Christmas party”

“Yea what a night”

“Yea so fucking good”

“Still think it’s good baby”

“No its… oooh fuck” you are wearing a dress but he’s pushed your underwear to the side & slipped inside your cunt so easily as you were aroused & ready to take him, you slowly sink down taking all of him & it’s a earthy deep moan you let out “no Ben… it’s fucking phenomenal” you start to rock around him as he thrusts up into you.

“Fuck baby, god your extra tight tonight Jesus”

“You got me In the mood, oooh yesss baby” your mouths mould together. A swift hand slaps your arse as you grind around his penis. Each thrust even more exquisite as the last. Your walls clamping hard.

“Yes beautiful Ooooh fuck”

“Fuck Ben more more oooh fuck”

“Gonna fill you up, your mine, all mine”

“Yours fucking yours”

“Yes baby fuck yessss” Ben puts both his hands on your neck & makes intense eyes contact with you as you bounce hard around him, overwhelmed & overstimulated. It won’t be long before you cum. You feel seen. You feel loved. But the man you are looking at is not Pedro Pascal or someone dressed up trying to be him. It’s you other half your Ben. He’s the one you adore, would do anything for & the fact he’s gone to so much effort for your birthday just makes you love him even more. You bite your bottom lip, your rhythm uneven, the climax approaches. Ben sees it in your eyes & leans in & whispers into your ear that line that’s always unspoken.

“I’m Your Daddy” was he quoting Pedro? Was he saying it for real? You didn’t give a fuck. You cum, so hard the world is filled with stars, all the magic in the world is at your fingertips as your orgasm rips through you. The lap below you trembles as you almost finish your rocking. You hear a deep moan as Ben fills you up, coating you with his seed. He’s panting heavily as you rest your head on his shoulder & whisper back to him.

“So daddy,” you giggle as you say it”are you gonna have a panic attack & leave now you’ve claimed your prize?” He soothes your back as he regains his motor skills.

“Me leave you? Never” he smirks as he kisses the side of your head. “Your gonna have to do more than that to make me leave”

“Good, cos I ain’t going anywhere”

“Neither am I baby” he says lifting your head & you both chuckle as you move the curl he tried to do out of his face. “& id never leave you on your birthday”

[imaginal-ai]

"Up, Up, and Away!" (0001)

(The Lovely Fantasies Series)

[inflatingnblue]

Okay friends, here is the first part of my fanfic. I'm writing in first person present as Violet. If you notice a spelling or grammar error please let me know!

Also, should I write what happens before this point?

I appreciate feedback! Feel free to share your thoughts and comments.

And don't worry the story will be continued... 😊😈🫐

Feeling Blue in the Inventing Room

I feel a strange sensation in my stomach. It's like a swirling or bubbling. Little by little I can feel more pressure build as the swirling intensifies. I almost feel ill, like nauseated, but there's also something that feels good about it. Maybe if I wasn't wearing my belt I wouldn't feel so weird. I'm distracted by the sensations that I miss the talk of my skin turning blue.

Because my stomach still feels strange I rub it with my hand and that's when I saw the blue color spreading.

"Why is my skin blue?!"

"I told you I didn't have it quite right yet..." says Mr. Wonka calmly.

Just then the pressure and swirling sensation turns up a notch and I can feel my stomach growing.

"Violet, what are you doing now?" cries my boyfriend, Charlie.

I can feel my body growing, puffing up as if I'm having a major allergic reaction. The swelling in my limbs experience the same type of pressure and swirling sensations. 

My blue maxi dress and leggings are stretchy, although I can feel my body grow within its confines.

My middle looks ridiculous as the swelling has grown proportionately bigger and is being contained by my belt. I can't believe this is happening.

"I feel funny!" I cry out loud.

My belt starts getting tighter around my waist and the material digging into my skin is painful. I hear the belt groan and creak. I feel like I can't breathe as the swelling carries on throughout my body, especially in my abdomen.

My arms and legs continue to grow, and I’m thankful my long sleeves and leggings have been able to contain my limbs thus far. I can't move or bend my arms to take the belt off.

In desperation, I decide to create more pressure against the belt and push my stomach out to make it break.

"ARGH!" I yell as the belt makes a big explosive sound, popping off my body finally.

I feel relieved to breathe again, however it feels like a tsunami crashing within my stomach. My midsection is massive. With the belt breaking I'm caught off balance and I almost fall over due to my sheer size and weight.

"What's happening to me?!"

"You're blowing up like a balloon!" exclaims Charlie.

"Like a blueberry," Wonka says quietly and calmly. Someone may see his demeanor as bored and apathetic.

A blueberry! I'm blowing up like a blueberry! The pressure and swirling continue and I realize this must be blueberry juice.

"Someone call an ambulance," cries one lady.

"Stick her with a pin," says one snarky girl and she throws her head back with a laugh.

"No, that'll make her pop!" says an older gentleman.

"Mr. Wonka, please! Please deflate her!" Charlie begs.

"She doesn't need deflating." Wonka says poignantly. Charlie looks over at me with confusion. I feel helpless as my form continues to morph and fill out more. I am so heavy. I feel a strange sensation of the swelling increasing so much that my arms and legs are becoming a part of my spherical shape. I hear some stitching pop here and there as I continue growing. Somehow I’m lucky enough that I’m still covered. My maxi dress keeps getting shorter and shorter though.

"Blowing up like a blueberry." Charlie says more to himself than anyone else. Then his face lights up.

"Mr. Wonka! If she's blowing up like a blueberry... she needs to be... I feel crazy saying it, but juiced or something!"

"My boy, I knew you were catching on!" Wonka says excitedly.

"HELP! HELP!" I scream. I'm not taking in any of the words between Wonka and Charlie. The pressure is getting to be too much. It feels like this is never going to end. The guests on the tour are just staring at me agape. The older gentleman is shaking his head, disapproving of me not listening to Wonka. The snarky girl's face reveals shock and also a smugness. A teenage boy slowly walks up and reaches out his hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask nervously. I can't run away from him and I'm not sure what he's trying to do. His hand makes contact with my midsection. Well, what used to be my midsection. He rubs his hand against me with a look of surprise on his face. My maxi dress is closer to becoming a shirt if I don’t stop inflating.

"Don't do that!" I feel embarrassed and violated in a way. The teen ignores me, makes a fist, and pumps it against my body. It feels strange and I can feel the juice sloshing inside with the movement.

"Stop!" I yell. His mother steps forward and pulls him back to the main group. She's scolding him quietly. I think I hear her say "stay away from that thing!" THING?! I don't know how much more I can take.

Charlie is still talking to Wonka. I can't hear them anymore. What are they saying?

I start to cry because there's nothing left I can do. I close my eyes to shut out all the staring eyes and hope this is all a nightmare.

"Violet!" Charlie says. I open my eyes after what seems like a couple minutes. He's standing in front of me. "They're going to roll you to the juicing room. It's just you're not... ready yet." He says carefully.

"What do you mean? Please, please make it stop. I feel like I'm going to... going to..." I can't say the word.

"Explode, my dear?" Mr. Wonka says behind Charlie. "I told you not to."

Tears are flooding from my eyes. I'm going to explode because I didn't listen.

"Violet, that's what we're trying to tell you," says Charlie calmly. "We aren't going to let you explode. Mr. Wonka was telling me about the juicing process." Charlie looks over at Mr. Wonka.

"Yes, it's a rather simple operation. We have to wait for the right time to juice you." Mr. Wonka reaches out his hand and pushes gently against my side. "Which will be soon." By this point my arms and legs are all but gone, leaving my hands and feet sticking out of my humongous body.

Before I can respond, Wonka takes out a small flute and plays a very short tune. What is that for?

"Please, everyone, back up and lend some space." Wonka uses his cane to push the group back, including Charlie.

"Space for what?!" I still don't understand what's going on and now I'm so puffed up I can feel my body pressing up against my chin.

"Violet, it's going to be okay. I promise!" Charlie replies. His eyes are showing worry though. I wish he wasn’t so far away.

A group of oompa loompas step forward and are quietly chatting amongst themselves. I can't hear what they're saying although I swear I hear a giggle here and there. I can't see all of them since my body is so large and in my line of sight. I start hearing chatter around me instead of just in front of me. I try to look around to figure out what they’re doing.

A couple of them are standing right in front of me where I can see them. They're gesturing and it seems they're judging my size. Suddenly the oompas are walking slowly around me. This makes me more uneasy and I try to take a couple steps to gauge what's happening. I hear one oompa laugh outright after I fail to move very far. They’re taking in more of my shape based on the gesturing I see and the small pushes I feel against my huge body. I feel violated again. They are pushing in so many places. Their hands press into me for a moment and I can feel my skin indent. When they let go my skin bounces. The oompas in front of me are also pushing into me. I can't quite see them since they're standing directly underneath what would be considered my stomach. I start feeling overwhelmed with all the touching and a small whimper leaves my lips. One of the oompas steps back in response and he looks me in the eyes. I feel like I'm going to start crying again. The oompa nods and says something to his companion. Then he gives a command and I sense the message being sent around me.

All of a sudden I feel lots of hands on my back and sides. The two oompas standing in front of me are directing the others. To do what, I'm not sure until I can feel myself moving, as if the goal is to tilt me on my back.

"Please don't!" I yell out. I start flapping my hands in distress. Charlie's words about rolling me have escaped my memory. I feel so helpless as the oompas tilt me back without issue even though I'm flapping about. Once my feet leave the ground I start kicking. I know it is futile to do, but it's a natural instinct to keep fighting. My leggings have overall stayed intact, which is surprising and I’m very grateful.

I hear Charlie call my name. I'm on my back now and I can't see anyone. It's very disorienting since I'm spherical. Only a bit of my back is on the actual ground and I feel even bigger now than when I was standing. I start hyperventilating.

"Charlie! Mr. Wonka!" I yell out, and then I give another yell as the oompa loompas start pushing me about. I can’t quite see where I am in the Inventing Room at any given moment and at times I don’t see any people around as I roll across the floor. Eventually I make it back to the area where we started and the oompas turn me one more time. For one second I can see Charlie and then I’m rolling through a set of large doors.

"They know what they're doing, Violet. They're going to help you!" I can hear Charlie's voice.

"Don't worry, my dear. I take good care of my guests," adds Wonka. He doesn't sound as indifferent as before. Or maybe I'm delusional.

[starrylevi]

Hi! Love your writing sm ❤️! Can a request an established relationship Levi x reader fic where the reader and Levi grew up together in the underground and the reader tells his squad (the new one) embarrassing stories from when Levi was a kid? He overhears and gets rlly embarrassed and pissed 💀 and the squad can’t stop laughing at him. Tysmmmm!!

Hi!! You’re so sweet, thank you! I tried my best with this. I don’t have much imagination so I basically repurposed the clown scene in Marley 😅 I hope it’s not completely terrible.

🌲

“Can you tell us another one? Please please please.” Connie begs on his knees in front of you, hands clasped together in a prayer.

You let out a small chuckle before looking back over your shoulder in search for any sign of the Captain. “Hm…I don’t know, he’ll be getting back soon.” You say as you look back at the cadets sitting around the campfire with you.

“Aw come on, we have at least five more minutes before he gets back.” Jean pipes up.

“Guys, don’t pressure her! We don’t want the captain to get angry.” Armin tries to reason with them, his face flushed with concern.

Your eyes scan over all the cadet’s faces, most of them wearing a pleading expression. You stare at them, straight faced for a few seconds before you relent with a small smile. “Okay, just one more.”

In a moment of excitement, Jean and Eren high five each other.

“Okay, so we were around 10 years old when this happened. The adults were nice enough to hold a small event for the kids in the underground. I was really excited. Captain Levi, of course wasn’t too bothered to go but I forced him.” You let out a small chuckle before you continue.

“When we got there, there was a man surrounded by a big group of kids, all around 5 or 6 years old, asking for their choice of balloon animal.”

This is it?” Levi commented with a scoff as his eyes landed on the man. “This looks creepy as hell.”

“I just want to see what kind of animals he’s making and then we can go.” You tugged on his arm and Levi reluctantly followed you with a roll of his eyes.

As you two got closer, you heard the man looking for volunteers, his eyes scanning over the crowd of children.

“Stop, don’t tell me he picked on Captain Levi.” Sasha mumbles around a slim jim, disbelief in her voice.

The man indeed spotted Levi and approached him with a smile. “Well, aren’t you a cute little fella. Would you like a balloon animal?” The man asked with a gleeful grin.

Levi narrowed his eyes, pouting. The action made him seem more endearing to the man. “Look at those cheeks!”

The man goes to pinch the rounded skin when Levi flinches away from him. “Get away, asshole!”

“Oh, looks like someone has a potty mouth.”The man frowned.

“No way, he really thought the captain was a six year old?” Eren asked you.

“Of course they did, have you seen him?” Jean remarked before everyone busted out laughing though the joy quickly dies down.

“y/n, a word please?” You hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice and see all the cadets briefly frozen in fear.

“Oops.” You whisper to yourself before slowly getting up and walking over to Levi, meeting his steely stare with a guilty look on your face.

“Why in the hell you tell them that?” He whispers harshly, pint tinting his cheeks as you take your place in front of him.

“They wanted to know a little more about our history in the underground. I…thought it would be funny to tell them a couple of stories?” You explain, lightly bitting down on your lower lip.

“Funny, huh?” His eyes narrow at you as he crosses his arms.

“Captain, come on, it’s all in good fun!” Connie cuts in. The others chime in, agreeing with laughter.

“Oi, if you know what’s good for you you’ll shut it!” He barks at the cadets and they all recoil in terror, quieting down but you can still hear some snickering.

You place a hand on one of his crossed arms to comfort him, your thumb stroking the material of his uniform.

“I can’t believe you would tell them that.” He mumbles grumpily.

“I’m sorry, my love.” You say, genuine remorse in your tone.

He stays silent for a second, arms still crossed before he lets out a sigh. “Next time find something more interesting to talk about that isn’t me.”

“Yes, sir.”

[fartenthusiastwriter]

Merry Christmas, Billy Boy! A TSOBB Holiday Special (1/2)

‘Twas the night before Christmas tucked away in bed, Will slept soundly as naughty dreams filled his head. Set between Part 6 and Part 7. Where you can find all parts of TSOBB. Minors DNI

- - - - -

I stirred from my sleep, slowly removing myself as little spoon so I didn’t wake up Clay. Noise from the living room had woken me up. I successfully removed myself, leaving Clay to snore away.

I slowly opened the bedroom door, inspecting the living room in the dim light of the Christmas tree. My eyes landed on a large, dark figure. I swang the door open and flicked the light on. I couldn’t believe who the intruder was.

In front of me was a Giant Santa Claus bent over looking through a large bag of gifts. Santa was larger than I ever could’ve imagined; his frame was several feet wide with a large balloon belly. He had to have been at least 8’ tall, barely fitting in our apartment. Even with his legs straight as he bent over, I was face level with his ass.

And what an ass it was. Encased in red cotton pants, his globe cheeks jutted out over his back, around his hips, and on top of his legs. My eyes were glued to the biggest ass I’d ever seen stretching his pants to the brim. The outline of a jockstrap shown through the strained material. The pants wedged between the watermelons, spread out to show the outline of his hole.

MRRRRERRRRRREY

A joyful noise erupted as I took in the feast that was Santa’s ass. “Ohoho, excuse me!” Santa blurted, leaning up and almost hitting his head on the light. “Milk and cookies always have a way of sneaking out.” He chuckled as he turned to me. “Merry Christmas! As I’m sure you’ve put together, I’m ol’ Saint Nick.” He gave his belly a pat and followed it with a deep “Ho Ho Ho”

If it wasn’t for the size of this man, I wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve never seen a man so large. Given the front door is still locked, I had no choice but to at least go along, “uh Merry Christmas, Santa. I’m Will.”

“I know, Will. I know who everyone is.” Santa bellied another chuckle. “But what I can’t seem to recall is whether you’re on the Nice List or the Naughty List”

Santa snapped his fingers and a large book appeared floating in front of him. He started strumming through pages, running his finger down each. Santa finished looking through the book and closed it. “Well you’re not on the Naughty List so that’s a good sign.”

The book disappeared and a much smaller book took its place. Santa continued the same process. He got to the end once again and made a puzzled face.

“That’s odd,” Santa commented, rubbing his fluffy beard. “You don’t appear to be on the Nice List, either.”

I felt beads of sweat start running down the back of my neck. What could that mean?

“Let me take a look at your file.” Santa snapped his fingers again, replacing the book with a grimy folder. An awful smell filled the room, as Santa opened the folder and flies flew out. “Now this should be an interesting read.”

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Lingered in bathroom stalls to hear other guys relieve themselves, pretended to tie your shoe behind a runner on the train. You’ve spent over 20 hours in your boyfriend’s ass, almost half of that he was unaware?” Santa tutted his tongue and shook his head. “You’ve even stopped doing your work, spending your day sniffing up your intern’s farts and making him do it?? I see what this is.” The look on Santa’s face sent a shiver down my spine and pleasure through my cock.

“That was no average indigestion earlier.” Santa warned, rubbing his belly. “You weren’t on a list because I haven’t had the pleasure of someone like you in a long time. God I’m looking forward to this, it’s been far too long.”

Santa snapped his fingers again and his clothes changed immediately. He went from the classic Santa outfit to only suspenders over a wifebeater, strapped to a pair of tighty whities. Only long black socks covered his massive feet.

Looking down, I realized my attire changed as well. I was now butt naked with a cage on my cock. I tried to reach and touch it to find my arms tied behind my back. I looked over my torso to see it covered in all kinds of demeaning humiliating names. The most prominent word was “NASTY.”

“I got rid of it after people stopped ending up on it; where you belong is the Nasty List.” Santa explained while he slowly approached you. “Rather than gifts or coal, you get a night with Santa you’ll never forget.”

- - - - -

Find Part 2 here!

[browneyedjoe]

so, a cheeky and honestly filthy (for me) joe blurb. very much inspired by @lovejosephquinn recent blurb re their horny christmas eve morning thoughts. but okay, seriously, let’s imagine -:

p.s. also inspired by the 5 mimosas i've had in the last hour and my thought process after seeing this video.

p.p.s. this is officially the first smut i've written and i'm stressed because i'm very particular about the smut i read so any feedback is appreciated.

merry crisis, ya'll

it’s very early morning, the sun not yet risen but the sky a light shade of midnight blue. you’re peacefully asleep, duvet wrapped around your partially naked body and your hair, splayed on your pillow as if you were a mermaid underwater. you feel a shift, physically, a gentle yet repetitive knock that undulates your body back and forth. your sleep, lightly disturbed, but you decide to ignore it, subconsciously acknowledging it was too early to be awake. it happens again; something, or albeit, someone rocking softly side to side. your eyes scrunch - alright, you’re definitely awake now. with your back facing joe, you assume he’s gotten up to get a glass of water or to use the loo. but now, with your mind wide awake, you hear it - the melodic rhythm of quiet moans that escape the full lips of your boyfriend. you couldn’t believe your luck. slowly, you turn around as if you’re rousing from a dream and not perturbed by the fact that joe is ‘discreetly’ rubbing his erection with a lazy hand, under some dreamy impression that you don’t have any idea what he’s doing. “fucking h-“ joe exhales, accompanied with a sound of slick; you picture his hand, the palm of it covered in a mix of spit and precum, jutting up and down his hard cock. you think of the shine of rubies, synonymous with the colour of the head of his dick and the red of his lips, the bottom of which is being bitten, trapping shut any harsh breaths and filthy words so desperately trying to escape. smirking with your eyes close, you wrap an arm around the lower part of his hip, pelvis thrusting, you feel the rise and fall of his gut. the air is trapped there and fucking hell, joe is really trying his hardest now to not make it obvious that he’s seconds away from coming. “thinking of that cunt, fuck-please” and you feel your own slick start to pool between your legs. could you get away with squeezing your thighs together to get some relief? maybe? god, know knows…you’ve been here before, half asleep until joe is walking next to you without a second thought that it’s 3am. he’s shaking now, breathing uneven and stilted. this is when he starts gripping the swollen head of his cock, his other hand quickly grabbing at his balls and then reaching out to touch the softness of your body. “jesus, gonna c-cum”. your hand, which was still precariously laid atop his hip, starts to squeeze the bone there, and he knows - fuck, he knows you’re awake and within an instant, he gets up onto his knees, tossing the duvet off to expose your chest and with a few more jerks, he’s spilling his load all over your breasts. his release is loud and finite, like the pop of a balloon at a birthday party. joe is squeezing your left breast, pinching at the nipple when he finishes milking his cock. you hear him chuckle, “i know your were awake as soon as you turned over”. joe flops his body back down on the bed, neck to you and lowers his hand to your covered cunt, pulling the material to the side to push his index into the wet, “did you enjoy yourself, you little creep?”. you feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you hastily. he knows you love hearing him with himself; the voyeurist in you completely satisfied with what has transpired. joe’s cum still adorns your skin, letting it settle there whilst he dip a finger into you, then two, then three, and then he kisses you again - so fucking hard - “let’s take care of this, shall we?”.