#god bless stretch marks appreciation

[shubbzebubs]

Getting pretty self-indulgent abt Jack now oh my god

🥧

Bit of censored nsfw!!

[reveluving]

cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader

summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? ‘Cause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him ✋🏼😔 Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;

Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!

Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?

Absolute miracle.

There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.

The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.

“Omar, look.” You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.

That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.

“Would you like that one?” He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“Omar, we already have so much.” You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.

“Well, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?” He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, “We're buying it.”

Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.

That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.

But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.

He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.

Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.

You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling either—falling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.

Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.

“Omar…” You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege of—of your body and soul, “Move, please…”

He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.

So long your lips, your mind, your you—could do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:

I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.

» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider ♡

[l0v3tast3]

I LOVED THE PERVY NEIGHBOR!TOJI HEADCANON OMG 🥵 Thoughts on him bringing his good friend Nanami Kento over to “meet” reader? 🤔

oh my god. oh my god this literally made my thoughts stop working for several seconds your brain is a blessing (; ω ; ) also thank u sm ily anon uwu

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, pervy neighbor!toji x female reader x pervy friend!nanami, dubious consent, age gap (reader is college age, toji is late-30's, nanami is early 30's), pet names, spitroasting, toji's a little meaner in this one, size kink

✎ word count: 2.2k (not proofread oopsies)

masterlist | requests

♡ toji fushiguro is a territorial man at heart. he doesn't have much to his name, but what he does have he holds onto with a tight grip. you included. but when his "good friend" nanami kento asked what had caused toji to be in such a good mood lately, he couldn't help but start bragging about his new girl.

♡ nanami liked to act like he was better than him and all the rest, but toji saw how he shifted in his seat, he saw his pants tighten. it inspired a wonderful idea in the black-haired man.

♡ he brings it up while he's fucking you from behind, slow and deep with a hand around your throat to hold you tight against his chest. "got a friend i want ya to meet, baby. wanna show him how much of a good girl you are for me, what d'ya think? no, wouldn't let him fuck you, princess. maybe your mouth. this pussy's mine though, don't fuckin' forget." of course you could never forget, not with how he was pulling out until just his tip was left inside you and then slamming back in.

♡ needless to say, you end up agreeing to it. how could you not when he whispers such nice things? "just wanna show ya off, you're so good for me. my friend just wants to see how pretty you are, princess, just wants to appreciate you like i do." you're right on the edge, so close to cumming, but he slows down his thrusts instead, the arm wrapped around your waist tightening to stop you from squirming.

♡ "won't let him touch ya if you don't want him to. you'll let me fuck you in front of him though, right baby?" you give him a meek "m'kay, toji," finally, and his smile stretches so wide as he starts fucking you faster again. you trust him, you know in your sweet little heart that he wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, much less touch you. toji fucks you for hours after that, rewarding you with his cum over and over as he tells you how much of a good girl you are for him.

♡ you almost forget about the whole thing after that, thinking it was just another one of toji's lewd fantasies that he confesses when he fucks you (there are quite a lot, he just keeps coming up with more). until the next time your mom goes on a work trip.

♡ there's a knock at the door later into the evening while he's pressing your back into an arch on the living room couch, fucking into you harshly and leaving red handprints on your ass (he had seemed hellbent on marking you the last few days; more hickies and bruises shaped like his fingers and bitemarks than any amount of concealer could ever cover). you don't even hear it but he's pulling away from you, petting your hair and saying he'll be right back while he pulls on his sweatpants. even though you're confused, your fuzzy brain just takes the opportunity to breathe evenly for a few moments.

♡ "-got started without ya, couldn't help it. see? she's just so cute," toji says as he walks back in. behind him is a handsome blonde man in a suit, younger than toji but still plenty older than you. he looks at you with what looks like indifference, staring down at you through his glasses.

♡ toji notices your apprehension and comes back to the couch, sitting beside you and picking you up to set you on his lap, your back pressed to his chest so you faced the man still watching you. calloused hands work over your body to relax you, one finding it's way to start circling your clit. "you remember when i told you about my friend, right princess? this is nanami, my friend. told him all about how sweet my baby is and he wanted to see for himself. gonna help me show him, okay? yeah? aww, that's my girl."

♡ he tells nanami to take a seat and he does, sitting down in one of the chairs across the room. toji's already pushing his sweatpants down again, lining you up to sink you back onto his still-wet cock. you're whimpering and gasping quietly, trying to cover your breasts in embarrassment; you could hardly handle toji's teasing, and now there was a very quiet man watching toji use you like a toy.

♡ "don't do that now, c'mon, you're missin' the whole point! is my dick dumbing ya down again? show him how good ya look riding me, you can do it pretty girl." he holds your hands together against your stomach, helping your hips move up and down with his other hand. you can't help but let out your moans as he fills you up again and again. you can't see it, but he stares at nanami over your shoulder with hooded eyes and a grin that speaks loud enough for his arrogance. he can see the blonde man shifting in his seat again, he can see the bulge growing in his pants and how his hands grip the armrests of his chair. nanami wants you, wants to have you like toji is having you. but he can't, and toji thinks it really doesn't get better than this.

♡ "isn't she gorgeous, nanami?" the man responds with a nod and toji scoffs. "then say it, jackass," he spits, suddenly glaring at the younger man until he spoke. "she is beautiful," nanami says. his voice is deep and he talks slowly, carefully. toji laughs and sighs out a moan when he feels your cunt tighten around him even more. "she fuckin' liked that!"

♡ you start melting back into him, grabbing hold of his arm instead of weakly trying to break out of his grasp. he smiled into your shoulder, continuing to make nanami compliment you. "yeah, she's so sweet once i get my dick inside her. isn't she a sweetheart, nanami? heh, it's a damn miracle i can even fit my cock in this tiny pussy. and don't get me fuckin' started on her mouth. she's got the prettiest little mouth, doesn't she? see, even my fingers look huge in her mouth- no, keep fuckin' riding me, c'mon, you can do it yourself. you like her mouth, nanami? ya wanna fuck it? what'd'ya think, baby, you gonna suck his dick?"

♡ you were a complete mess on toji's lap. any brainpower you had left was going into shakily riding him and sucking on the two fingers he'd shoved in your mouth. you could barely even process toji talking about you like you weren't even there, but the question he urged in your ear didn't go unnoticed. part of you says you shouldn't, that he's not toji, but the other part needed to keep hearing toji call you a good girl. and nanami had been "nice", so far.

♡ so you squeak a little "mhm" around toji's fingers and he laughs, squeezing his arm a little tighter around you and giving you a quick bite on your neck in one of the few spots left unmarked, hushing you when you whine. before you can register it, he moves you forward onto your hands and knees on the couch, pulling your head back by your hair.

♡ "ya wanna fuck her mouth, right, nanami? she wants you to. c'mon princess, help me convince him. show him how nice ya beg." you take a second too long to start talking and he brings his hand down on your ass again, fucking into you harshly. "i said beg him."

♡ "ah-a! ple- please nanami, can i suck your dick? please- nngh!" toji spanks you again and chastises you, saying he's heard you do better than that, but nanami is already walking over and unbuckling his belt. he kneels with one leg on the couch so that his bulge is right in front of you, and you reach out to grab onto his pants for support as toji continues to fuck you.

♡ nanami's hand replaces toji's in your hair and the man behind you uses the new freedom to dig his hands into your hips. the man in front of you tells you to open your mouth, and when you do he slides his thumb in and presses down on your tongue, letting out a deep breath when you suck on it. he trades his thumb with his dick, his hand going down to wrap around you throat. nanami wasn't as big as toji, nearly as long but not as thick. you could still tell it would be difficult as he pressed his tip against your swollen lips.

♡ toji stops pistoning in and out of you for a few moments while you start suckling on the head of nanami's cock, the man's slender hands urging you down further slowly. "don't ya remember all that training we've been doin' on your throat, baby? yeah ya do, good girl."

♡ he picks back up suddenly, fucking you even harder now, enough to push your body forward and nanami's cock further into your mouth. he's curling over you, his grip on your throat and hair tightening a little when he feels you moaning around him. you're trying your best not to gag while toji continues to push you more and more, eyes rolling back because you're just so full and they're everywhere and it's all you can feel and see.

♡ "shit-" nanami swears under his breath, as if he's still trying not to lose his formality. toji laughs, both at him and you. he's relishing in how tight you get whenever you choke on nanami's cock, and finally getting to see the blonde man lose his composure. the power trip was like no other; toji didn't even mind sharing you if it meant he got to witness this.

♡ "tell her how good she's doin' nanami, don't be fuckin' rude now." nanami shoots a glare at toji before focusing back on you, the hand in your hair starting to run it's fingers through the strands comfortingly.

♡ "you're doing so- fuck, so good, little girl. hah, your mouth is so soft around me, you're taking us both so well- fuck!" he throws his head back when you moan against him again and start sucking harder, drooling as nanami's voice pushed you so close to cumming.

♡ toji was hammering into you now, pressing his hand down on your back again, forcing it into as much of an arch he could so he could batter your walls at a better angle. "aw, are you gonna cum, princess? be good and make nanami cum first, he's our guest, right?" with that, toji started slowing down, bringing his hand down again on your cherry-red ass when you whine and mewl in protest.

♡ you take nanami's dick until tears prick your ears, so desperate to make him cum so that toji would finally fuck you again. it was all you could think about, just pleasing toji and his friend. besides, nanami was being so sweet, petting your hair and helping you bob your head up and down by your neck. he never pressed hard enough to hurt you (he was afraid toji would hurt him), and his words were all so nice.

♡ "i'm gonna- fuck!" was all the warning you got before his cum was pouring down your throat, your grip on his pants tightening as you swallowed it all, just like toji had taught you. he stayed hunched over you, struggling not to tighten the grip of his hands too much as he came, his hips twitching the longer he remained with you like that. once he started relaxing, toji practically tore you off of him and pushed the younger man away.

♡ while nanami was still reeling, toji muttered a quick "now get the fuck out," before he turned his attention entirely back to you, sitting upright with your back against his chest once again. he kept you still as you tried to catch your breath, his cock bottomed out in you while he smoothed his rough hands over your body and praised you.

♡ "how did i find such a good girl like you, hm? ya did so good, looked so pretty chokin' on his cock. not nearly as much as when ya do on mine, though. you still like my dick better, right baby? yeah, heh, of course ya do, cause you were made for me, pretty girl. now, you want me to make ya cum still, don't ya?"

♡ he spares a quick glance at the door as it shuts behind nanami, smiling wide as he basks in the newfound power he holds over the man. he let him have a taste of you, but only that, and now he'll get to see that jealousy in the younger man's eyes every time he mentions you.

♡ meanwhile, you're grinding down on toji, all thoughts zeroing back in on the giant trapping you against him. you didn't care that he had just used you basically to make a point to his "friend", you didn't even really realize it yet, not with all the honeyed words that toji filled your head with. all you care about is how good the pressure of his dick pressed against your cervix felt. all you care about is being good so he'll make you cum again.

♡ "alright, sweet girl, don't worry, i'll make ya cum lots tonight," he whispers when you start whining his name. "make ya forget ya ever even met him. make sure ya remember that you're mine still."

[ebonyslasher]

Sorry if this is to specific

But can you do a thick user with demon slayer men? And when I say thick i mean like a pear body shape wide lower body parts and stretch marks I just don’t see a lot of writers do this body type

It's not too specific at all! Honestly, you could even give more detail than that and it'd still be okay. I chose the guys, since you didn't include which specific men you wanted.

Pear-Shaped Thick!Reader with Demon Slayer men:

Tengen Uzui

"What a flashy figure...!"

Tengen is enchanted by your looks. Your hair, skin, and fashion were so distinctive from the area. He was bored with the Meiji era standard of beauty. How were you going to be flashy if you looked standard?! He finally found another person that would understand his plight.

As expected, he's quite vocal with his appreciation. How could he NOT be? You were cool and extra fine; someone worthy to be apart of his harem.

"Y/N, you're just as stylish as ever!"

"Whoa! Be careful throwing that flashy figure around, you might just make people faint!"

The people he's referring to is his wives. They are also avid fans of you. What? You thought he would faint? And miss looking at that awesome body of yours?

He certainly did not want to miss seeing your smooth skin, enriched with lovingly patterned strikes that covered your cute hanging stomach, ass, and thighs. He bit his lips at the thought of touching your soft body. Cuddling with you would be heaven on earth. You were beautiful and beginning to be a wonderful possible addition to his marriage.

Giyuu Tomioka

Characteristically, your shape is not the first attribute Giyuu noticed. He paid more attention to your face and how you acted during your introduction. Once his attraction to you becomes more apparent over time, that's when he pays attention to your body.

He's overwhelmed. How could he handle all that? He isn't a confident man. The only time his confidence shows is in his fighting and training, slightly. Not in romance, much less sexual interactions. He employs a secret style training...calls it Sex Breathing. It targets his arms, hips, and legs in order to handle your bottom heavy size.

One time, he accidentally watched you when you were changing. It was a small moment before he forcefully turned his head away. But Tomioka did not miss that you had stretch marks adorning your thick thighs. Giyuu became addicted to the memory, wishing he could have had the audacity to watch you fully undress.

Your figure could not be hidden by your clothing, much to his combined glee and chagrin. He loved that he could see it, but hated that others could enjoy your lovely figure too.

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei, respectable and pious as he is, privately succumbs to his dirty thoughts after you both start dating. He'd felt your bottom heavy figure against his body after the first hug. The feeling of that soft stomach and thick thighs stuck in his memory. The hulking young man begins to pray.

"Kami, as these straying thoughts plague my mind, i must ask that the gods keep me afloat. But, I must thank them! Only they could construct a being such as Y/N! I will not ignore this obvious blessing to my life!"

Gyomei will not make it known of his thoughts on your figure, keeping his comments to himself. He makes the effort to not make you uncomfortable, not wanting to scare you off. Once you let him know that it's okay, he is more free with his thoughts.

He strongly desires to hold you daily, his hands ache to travel down your pear-shaped figure in glee. You felt so soft. Gyomei wanted to cuddle to feel his hard muscles against your supple form. It's always a blessing when he's able to. Each time is more magical than the last.

Gyomei, selfishly, makes you describe your stretch marks to him. As poetic as possible, to paint the perfect picture in his head.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

It was rough journey getting past Sanemi's tough exterior. Many times you wanted to give up on your odd pursuit of this mean ass hashira. But, it was obvious his act protected himself and others, albeit extremely harsh. You knew something sweet lied past that facade.

And your intuition was correct. After you broke him down with your endless flirting, he started to bite back. In his own special way, of course. It starts with:

"I'm not staring!"

To

"Just cause you're shaped like that doesn't mean you can say whatever you want."

To

"Sometimes looking at you calms me down...but excites me in a different way.."

Sanemi felt drunk whenever he was with you. The sight of you makes his heart race. Your pear shaped figure was something he could not ignore. Trust and believe, he has tried many times. It was as if your body called out to him, instructing him to look. Much to his embarrassment, it did not take long for him to relent to the voice and stare. He was always in a different plane of existence when you came into the room. It annoyed him to no end.

Sanemi was speechless when he first laid eyes upon your unclothed form. His eyes gravitated up and down the electric marks that blessed your appearance. You had never seen him so affected.

[vera-king-hrfl]

Zevlor Sex Drive HC.

OK, so I've been thinking about our sexy old legend a lot recently (obviously), and I've decided to explain how I understand his needs. Just... I mean, just look at the guy.

I can't be arsed to format anything, but w/e, you get what you get.

He's really shy at first and doesn't want to burden you with his desires, but when he feels more comfortable, he will indicate his needs in subtle little ways.

He's too much of a gentleman to ask for it outright, but you see the hunger in his fiery eyes as they travel over your body. The way his sharp teeth indent that delicious lower lip, his claws digging into his palms trying to control himself.

He loves to make out. He can kiss you and touch you for as long as you can take it before you get too hot and absolutely attack him. When he learns how to turn you on there's no hope of resisting.

Maybe at first, he comes too fast, he's been starved for touch for so long, but he's able to perform multiple times in any given day. He has amazing stamina and really strong legs, so once you have released that incredible pressure he's able to go for hours.

He needs... needs sex, on the daily. It makes him feel attractive and wanted. He's damaged, and being inside you, or having you inside him, makes him feel loved.

Once he is really comfortable and knows you want him however he likes, he's not picky about the setting. He'll take you anywhere. In bed, bent over a table, up against the wall. He'll pound you into the dirt if that's what's available.

He likes everything. Blowjobs, hand jobs, dry humping. He loves when you play with his ass. Your fingers, your tongue, your cock if you have one. He whimpers so sweetly when you stretch him there. He can come from that alone.

He can also get off from going down on you. And with that long, forked tongue... (it isn't in the game but we the people have decided it and so it shall be.) He's good with you sitting on his face or grabbing his hair or horns and fucking his throat, whatever the case may be.

Zev isn't picky about gender or appearance. As long as you want him, he thinks you're beautiful.

He loves when you caress his horns or his tail. When you touch the ridges on his body, or complement his eyes. He isn't exactly ashamed of what he is, but he's been insulted so much that it makes him really happy that you appreciate his infernal attributes.

He's big. Like, long, heavy, thick, with prominent ribbing. He's been thoroughly blessed by the cock gods. I think it's pretty much universal fandom lore now. He is aware of that, and always afraid of hurting you. And he does, but you like that, don’t you? You'd never tell him that it's too much, even if it is.

He's also really strong. He's not the biggest guy in body, but he's so fit, and has been for so long that he can easily hold you down or throw you around even if you're heavier than him.

He likes to bite and be bitten. Not into pain that much, but he considers it love bites and likes leaving marks on you. He is embarrassed about it but he enjoys the taste of your blood.

He's ready at a moment's notice if the two are alone. He can get hard at a light breeze.

He's not an exhibitionist, but he's fine if nobody can see and you try to be quiet. He'll get shy about public displays of affection.

He always thanks you afterward, even if you're the one who's quivering, covered in sweat and half-wrecked from the pleasure.

He's big into aftercare. He likes to hold you and soothe you as you tremble in his arms. He'll get you a drink or a cloth to clean up with. He can also heal any damage he's done, which eventually makes him more likely to take kinky risks, if you’re enthusiastic about your desire for that.

Slight edit because I forgot...

Favorite position: I know this is vanilla, but, missionary! He likes everything as I said, but he's the Hellrider, the Paladin, the Commander, and he really loves being on top and being in control. He's fine bottoming, but he wants your legs around his waist, wants to put his weight on you, to look into your eyes. He wants to see every expression and every reaction to what he's doing to you, and you better believe he's taking mental notes. That also feels very romantic to him, and you know the guy is just hopeless. It won't be that bad. He's not very heavy. I imagine him as being about 5'8 and lean.

In conclusion, yeah, I'm down bad. I can't help it, and I'm not sorry.

Note: there's a little hint of what I'm working on now up there somewhere. Something I haven't included in any of my Zev stories yet. Be afraid.

[joelalorian]

a hero's blessing

marcus moreno x f!reader | wc: 4474 | 18+ mdni | masterlist

Thank you to the marvelous @perotovar for hosting such a fun and interesting challenge with the Offering of Frith event and for providing this beautiful moodboard! I had such fun learning about Norse mythology and the goddess Frith. This is also my first foray into writing my lovely husband Marcus Moreno. If you have not done so already, please check out all of the other amazing contributions to this challenge here!

Summary: The Norse goddess Frigg weaves the fabric of destiny for every living being. A Norwegian gift of a thousand thanks unlocks a destiny which Marcus did not see coming.

Warnings: Not much, really. Some cursing. A touch of angsty thoughts turns to fluff. Some adult themes and implied sex. My blog as a whole is 18+ mdni. A little bit of info dump. No use of y/n, ever. Two idiots with crushes stumbling through life until fate intervenes. Dividers courtesy of @saradika-graphics.

The people of Norway cheered when the Heroics delivered the final blow to the blight that menaced the women of their country for weeks. The skies cleared and birdsong once again echoed through the air as if the Norse Gods themselves expressed their heartfelt thanks.

Marcus Moreno looked up from a knelt position, still catching his breath after the hard-fought battle, to see a weathered old man standing before him with a toothless grin.

“Tusen takk,” the old man said in a raspy voice roughened by age. Placing one wrinkled hand on Marcus’ shoulder, the old man reached out with the other and it took Marcus a moment to realize the old man held something in his hand, extending it in offer.

Instinctively, Marcus stumbled to his feet, a gloved hand stretching out to meet the old man’s. He stared in wonder as the old man gently placed a metal pendant emblazoned with an intricate Norse knot into his hand. Like the old man himself, the emblem had been weathered by the passage of time, yet remaining ever sturdy, the black leather rope attached to it brand new and tied in a neat knot.

Marcus stared at it in wonder, wide brown eyes tracing the never-ending pattern of knotwork as the metal gently vibrated through his glove. His gaze dragged upwards from his hand to meet the milky eyes of the old man; eyebrows raised in question.

“A symbol of our gratitude, a thousand thanks, if you will,” the old man said in English. Arthritic fingers grasped the thin strip of knotted leather and reached upwards to place it over Marcus’ head. “Said to be blessed by the Norse goddess Frigg, wife of Odin. May it bring you love and harmony in this life and beyond.”

Too stunned to form words, Marcus nodded with a warm and grateful smile as the gift buzzed against his chest, calling to his heart.

A hundred pages deep into a thick text on Norse mythology, Marcus didn’t hear the first few gentle knocks on his office door. You waited a solid minute, unsure what to do knowing he was in there and finally pounding on the door, snapping his attention away from the book.

“Come in!” Marcus called, marking his page before he closed the book and leant back in his chair. His face split into a soft smile as you entered the room, a stack of files in hand.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Moreno,” you offered, placing the files down on his desk, the top one open to a form needing his signature. “This needs to be signed right away. As do these few.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Marcus?” He reached forward pen in hand and signed the forms you laid before him. “Mr. Moreno sounds too…”

“Formal?” you supplied helpfully. “Would you really prefer I call you Marcus?”

His breath caught in his chest hearing his name coming from your lips. He longed for you to say his name every damn day.

“Yes,” Marcus replied with a nod.

The token of appreciation given to him after completing the mission in Norway sat heavy against his chest, hidden beneath his dress shirt. Marcus felt incapable of removing it once donned in the presence of the old Norwegian man, and now, for the first time since the day the old man slipped it over his head, it buzzed against his skin suddenly.

It was also the first time he spoke to you since he returned.

Coincidence?

Or could there be something more to it?

“Well, if you insist, Marcus.” You smiled sweetly at him as you scooped up the necessary forms. With a cheeky wink, you offered one last parting shot. “You are the boss, after all.”

His eyes tracked your departing form with a crooked grin and furrowed brow, one hand rubbing at the warmth in his chest.

It took Marcus a week to determine that the pendant only buzzed with electricity when in your presence. It didn’t happen with anyone else. Not Missy, or his mom, or the pretty barista at the coffee bar down the block from Heroics HQ, or any of the moms who routinely tried to flirt with him when he picked Missy up from school. It certainly didn’t happen with any of the other men he interacted with daily.

After one too many experiments, Marcus also concluded it appeared to be unrelated to his powers. He apologized profusely to Sharon in Purchasing when he fried the new coffee machine after testing that theory while waiting for a fresh cup of coffee.

What was it about you, he wondered. The mystery irked him.

As any man would, or so Marcus thought, he blithely ignored the fact that he harbored an innocent workplace crush on you since the day you started at HQ, wide eyes twinkling in the fluorescent light as you eagerly trotted behind his mother when she gave you the penny tour. One glance at your ethereal beauty and Marcus knew he liked you in a way entirely inappropriate for the workplace.

Some might have called it love at first sight, but not pragmatic ol’ Marcus Moreno.

No, for the sake of his own sanity (and his heart), Marcus buried that crush deep, deep down beneath layers of grief for his wife’s passing and any number of other suppressed emotions, never to see the light of day again. Until now, apparently.

Marcus wished he thought to ask the weathered old man in Norway some questions about the nature of the pendant before just putting it on without thought. For all he knew, it could have been cursed to turn him into a salamander.

That would have totally sucked.

Marcus spent days with his nose buried in research trying to figure out the meaning behind the gift. He even went as far as calling the nearest museum to speak to a historian. In all, it took him three weeks and a coffee meeting with the historian to finally get some answers that, well, almost made sense.

The spitting image of Sean Connery in his portrayal of Dr. Henry Jones Sr. in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade – honestly, they could be brothers! – the historian introduced himself as Franklin Rockel, an expert in ancient European history. “So, how can I be of help to the leader of the Heroics?”

Marcus thanked Franklin for meeting with him and dove into a long-winded explanation of the Norwegian mission and the subsequent token of appreciation gifted to him. Pulling the pendant from beneath his shirt, he showed it to the man without once removing it from his around his neck. The tips of ears turned pink as he explained to the older man how it buzzed against his chest every time you were near.

Visibly fascinated with the tale, Franklin stared down at the knotwork in the metal with a broadening smile. “What do you know of the Norse gods?” Franklin spoke with a calming lilt to his voice.

“Just what I’ve been able to read up on in the past few weeks. Lots of lore, just like with Greek gods. I didn’t find much on Frigg – that’s who the old Norwegian man told me blessed this piece. Just a bit about her being Odin’s wife and the goddess of destiny, love, marriage, and the skies. A few other things, but that’s what stood out to me.”

Pulling out a small notepad, Marcus sat straight-backed, ready to absorb every word Franklin shared.

“That’s a good start. Frigg is said to have weaved the very clouds, though that could just be a metaphor for her abilities with shaping destiny. She knows the fates of every living thing and holds that information dear, not allowing herself or others to interfere with divine destiny, no matter the eventual outcome.”

Franklin pulled a battered yet clearly beloved tome from his satchel, opening it to a depiction of Frigg in all her majestic maternal glory, her gold dress enhancing the youthful glow of her skin.

He eyed Marcus as the younger man gazed at the illustration, soaking in each detail in true wonder.

“It is not immaterial that you are a widower, Marcus.” Franklin said, voice measured as Marcus’ eyes shot to the historian’s in surprise before remembering it was common knowledge that the leader of the Heroics lost his wife some time ago. “Frigg is the guardian of familial and marital bliss and harmony, seeking to comfort and guide those dealing with the complexities of these bonds. She knew of your eventual loss long before it happened and now, she offers a beacon of hope, a sign that a new love exists for you.”

Flipping through the fragile pages, Franklin pointed out a particular passage that reiterated much of what he just described. He allowed Marcus several minutes to absorb that and more about Frigg, watching as the younger man jotted down a few notes while reading. When Marcus sat upright once again, a little bewildered, Franklin smiled.

“Frigg must feel a connection to you. You share several qualities – wisdom, a strong understanding of diplomacy and strategy, a protective nature with children.” Pointing to the metal dangling from Marcus’ neck, Franklin continued, “There is no doubt in my mind this was meant for you. The fact that it buzzes when only a certain person is near – that alone convinces me, as it should you, that you are destined to be with this woman.”

Franklin packed away the tome, finishing the last sips of his Earl Grey tea while Marcus tried to make sense of all that he just learned. Tapping gently on the table as he stood, Franklin offered one last pearl of wisdom.

“What you do with all that I told you is up to you, but Frigg’s intentions are clear.”

Marcus didn’t know what to think but nodded and thanked the man all the same.

In the week following his meeting with the renowned historian, Marcus ran into you everywhere. At HQ it was entirely expected and normal (and brightened his day every single time, whether he’d admit it or not), but then he started seeing you at places he never had before. Did he just never notice you there before or was Frigg’s influence pulling you together more and more?

He ran into you at the grocery store where he did his weekly shopping on Friday evenings, catching sight of you frowning at the selection of fresh seafood. At the mall when he took Missy clothes shopping – his baby girl was growing up so fast! – and you stopped them to say hi, smiling brightly at his little girl. And even at his favorite pizza place blocks from his house, where he popped in to pick up the best pie in the area two nights a week like clockwork. He saw you every-damn-where. And maybe he just never noticed before or fate really was drawing you both closer, making you circle each other until your orbits finally collided.

Marcus would have thought you a stalker if not for the raw look of bewildered surprise each time before your expression split into a delighted grin. It was clear you were equally, and pleasantly, confused by the sudden coincidences. A few times you hung about, chatting with him and Missy before carrying on your way, not wanting to disturb the Moreno’s precious downtime too much. He secretly treasured those moments.

Still, Marcus took no action, too busy overthinking everything, as he was wont to do. Was he even ready for romantic entanglements? He hadn’t so much as gone a date or kissed someone since his wife’s passing, too concerned with taking care of Missy and too consumed with their mutual grief for so long. By conventional standards, it was more than time he moved on, but… He still wore his wedding ring, for fuck’s sake. Despite whatever destiny and fate might say, was he really ready for taking another chance on love? Would he ever be?

He didn’t know.

“Hey Marcus,” your sweet voice snapped him from the paralysis his overthinking led him to. “I stopped at the coffee bar on the way in and got you this. Thought you might need it after that last case.”

Placing a large to-go cup on his desk when Marcus didn’t reach out to accept the offering, you stared at him as your smile fell bit by bit. He just stared at you, but you could practically see his brain working behind those too intense, dark eyes.

“Ar-Are you okay?” you questioned uncertainly.

Did you overstep somehow? He insisted that you call him Marcus instead of Mr. Moreno or Boss, so it couldn’t be the informal greeting. Was bringing him a coffee too much? You’d never done that for him before, but you often brought one back for Shelley in Accounting just like she did for you. It wasn’t that unusual, was it? It seemed like you two were growing closer each day, but did you read it entirely wrong?

Falling deeper into the pit of self-doubt, you fidgeted waiting for Marcus to do or say something, anything, before you melted into a puddle of mortification. When he merely continued staring at you wordlessly, face like a mask of the man you knew for a solid minute, you spun on your heels and fled before the sudden onslaught of embarrassed tears hit.

You barely heard the sudden, frantic call of your name from his lips as he finally snapped out of whatever daze he was in, but it was too late. Your already fragile self-esteem and overwhelming feelings for the leader of the Heroics could not handle whatever the hell just happened. Nor did you understand quite why it bothered you so much, why a piece of your being felt like it had been cut by a sharp knife, and you needed to get as far away from Marcus Moreno as you could for a hot minute.

Scratch that. You needed to be anywhere but Heroics HQ for the rest of the day. Dropping an email to your boss, feigning food poisoning, once you returned to your office, you shut down your computer and skulked home.

Marcus snapped from his self-inflicted panic moments too late, shouting your name but failing to get up and follow you.

Shit! What the hell was wrong with him?

Marcus didn’t have an answer for that. The vibrations from the pendant against his chest became overwhelming when you stood before him, strumming against his skin harder than it ever had before, and he froze. His brain must have short circuited or something. There was no other explanation.

Marcus flung himself back in his chair with a weighty sigh, one large coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He caught the shattered look on your face even through the haze and it pierced his heart. It wasn’t intentional, him being a dick. He had to make sure you knew that. But how?

Hemming and hawing for a solid half hour, he was no closer to coming up with a worthy apology. He hated hurting your feelings or making you question yourself, no matter how unintentional. You deserved so much better than that. You probably deserved better than him. No, you definitely did.

This goddess Frigg and her blessing were really messing with his head, throwing his ability to think and act out of whack. How could he possibly know what he felt when it seemed like the universe decided for him without ever asking if he was ready?

Swiping his hands down his face, scrubbing roughly at the neatly trimmed scruff on his face, Marcus heaved a sigh, feeling like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad, mijo.” His mother stood in the doorway, one hand on her cane and the other resting against the doorframe.

Her knowing smile worried him but he didn’t have the energy to trade barbs and hidden meanings with the inimitable wits of Anita Moreno right now. Not when he long suspected that she had the power of omniscience.

“Not now, mom,” Marcus groaned, fingers massaging his temples as his eyelids shuttered closed.

“Yes now, mijo,” Anita replied, stepping into his office and easing herself down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I just watched one of the administrators I hired for you rush out of the building nearly in tears. What did you do to that sweet girl?”

His eyes snapped open with another groan. As if he didn’t feel awful enough, now his mother wanted to give him shit over you, too. Leveling tired eyes at the woman who told him many times that she brought him into the world, and she could surely bring him out of it if he didn’t behave when he was younger, he sat back in his seat.

“You already know, I’m sure. Why don’t you just let me have it so I can get back to work.”

“Why would I let you have it? Are you admitting that you acted poorly?”

This back and forth was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“Must we do this? I’m exhausted and confused, and I know I messed up, but I don’t know if what I feel is my feelings or fate telling me what to feel, and I hate that.” That summed it up pretty well, actually, and now that he admitted it out loud, Marcus hoped his mom would have some helpful insight.

“Well, tell me this. Did you have feelings for her before you were given that trinket you’re wearing?” Anita watched him consider the question, a smirk stretching her lips when realization hit him.

“Point taken,” Marcus sighed.

“Good. Now get off your ass and go apologize. That girl is head over heels for you as much as you are for her,” she replied. Watching her son’s eyebrows shoot upwards, she waved him off. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You both think you hid it well. Pathetic effort, really. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain that you both had crushes on each other. Fate is finally telling you that this is meant to be, that it’s okay to move on and be happy again, mijo. Don’t spit in the universe’s face thinking you know better than it does.”

Marcus hugged his mom, finally allowing himself to accept that destiny might be on to something. “I gotta go. Can you pick Missy up from school? I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

Shooing him out of the office, Anita assured him she’d look after Missy. “If you apologize right, I imagine we won’t see you until tomorrow.”

Marcus weaved his hybrid sedan through the afternoon traffic, impatient to get to your house, to make things right. It was well past time to be honest with you, to share his feelings. He only hoped his mother was right, that you liked him as much as he liked you. Even if you didn’t, he still owed you an apology for earlier.

Pulling up to the curb out front of your quaint home, your sensible car parked in the driveway, he realized that you lived only blocks from him. How he never saw you out and about in the neighborhood until recently was beyond him. Maybe the timing was always off until now.

Taking a moment to steel his nerves, Marcus shut the car off and climbed out of the driver's seat. He swiped sweaty palms down the legs of his pants as he walked up the small front porch and knocked on your door.

God, he hoped you’d hear him out, that you wouldn’t just slam the door in his face.

A hopeful smile spread across his face when he heard the lock click and you opened the door, looking beautiful in loungewear instead of your typical business casual outfits you wore to work. The material looked soft, and Marcus felt the sudden urge to nuzzle his face into the fabric and beg your forgiveness for being an idiot hit him.

Your pouty frown, scrunching your little nose, almost to adorable to handle, Marcus blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The words left his mouth in a rush of breath before his brain could think better of it and the tips of his ears flushed as you gaped at him. “I, uh… shit, sorry! Getting a little ahead of myself. May I come in? I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

Hesitating, your eyes scanned Marcus’ handsome face, and upon seeing the sincerity in those eyes so brown they reminded you of melted chocolate, you stepped aside to invite him inside your modest home. “Forgive the mess,” you mumbled as you led him to the living room and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.

Glancing around while you hovered nervously, Marcus soaked in the details of your living space and wondered what mess you referred to. Everything had a place, just like your office at work. From the pale blue walls to the light gray couch with the fluffiest cushions to the black and white portraits on the mantle above the fireplace, he could see bits of you everywhere. It fascinated him, this peek at your life outside of Heroics HQ.

Heart pounding in his chest, Marcus motioned for you to join him on the couch. “Sit with me, please. I need to say a few things, starting with I’m sorry for behaving so oddly earlier. There is much to share with you that will hopefully help you understand why I froze.”

You nodded and sat next to him, still a bit confused on whatever the hell was going on. Marcus launched into an explanation of the gift given to him in Norway, the meaning behind it, his conversations with the historian as well as his mother. You sat there staring at him in wonder, mouth dropping further open as the pieces of the puzzle began to come together.

When his voice tapered off, dark eyes beseeching you to not reject him, you reached out to him, a soft expression in your own eyes. “May I – uh, may I see the pendant?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. But first, I want you to feel something.” Marcus grasped your hand in his and pressed it against his chest, right over where the pendant hummed against his skin beneath his shirt. “Do you feel that?”

Eyes widening, your gaze flashed back and forth between his chest and his eyes a few times before gasping out a quiet “Yeah.”

“That’s what it does whenever I’m near you. The closer you are, the stronger the vibrations,” Marcus explained. “When you brought me that coffee, it was so thoughtful and unexpected, and it caught me completely off guard. And for some reason, the pendant buzzed abnormally hard against my chest in that moment, and it all became overwhelming.”

Your fingers traced around the feel of the vibrating metal as Marcus spoke, and you knew at once how distracting it all must be for him.

“So, we’re like soul mates, then?” you questioned, bolding tugging on the leather rope to pull the pendant out from beneath his clothes.

“Of a sort. We were destined to be together according to the goddess Frigg.” Marcus gulped, watching intently as your fingertip delicately traced the knotwork pattern on the metal. “How do you, uh, feel about that?”

Your eyes, glossy and full of wonder, met his and you flashed him a sweet smile. “Well, I’ve had a debilitating crush on you since we first met, so I can’t say I’m against the idea.” Your laughter tinkled in the air and his heart soared.

“You have? I never knew,” Marcus replied in wonder, his own face split by a jaw-breaking grin. “I had one on you, too.”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the room, you said, “Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? I was trying to be professional, and I never thought you would feel the same, so I buried that crush deep in the depths of my soul.”

Stunned, Marcus spluttered before finding his words. “How could I not feel the same way? You are amazing and beautiful and smart…”

Lunging forward, you kissed him, cutting off the rest of his response. The kiss started off as hesitant exploration of lips and quickly morphed into an unleashing of pent-up desire. Teeth clashed and tongues tangled as the kisses deepened and control weakened. With swift movements, Marcus shifted until you were sprawled across his lap, hands wandering until layers of clothing were tossed aside in your combined need to feel more, more, more.

When Marcus flipped you onto your back against the plush cushions of the couch, the pendant dangled between your naked bodies as he hovered over you. It vibrated with such intensity that it visibly swayed with its own energy. You pulled him down on top of you, feeling that intense yet pleasant buzz and heavy weight from the pendant pressed against your skin as the two of you came together as one.

Afterwards, when you both lay together sated and sweaty, chests still heaving as you recovered, you ran your fingers through his thick locks. “We really owe Frigg for bringing us together.”

Marcus hummed, pressing a series of kisses along your collar bone and up the side of your neck until he reached your face. “We sure do. I’m not sure this ever would have happened without her influence. I don’t know that I ever would have found the courage to admit my feelings otherwise.”

You both gazed at each other with love in your eyes, feeling grateful for that old Norwegian man, his surprising gift, and the wonderful blessing from the goddess Frigg. You laid there for hours, talking and laughing and just genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The future before you looked much brighter and Marcus excitedly invited you over for dinner with him and Missy the following evening, hoping that you would never leave once you arrived at his house.

Later that night, while in cuddled together in your bed, Marcus confessed that he loved you. The crush he harbored in silence for so long turned to love at some point without his knowledge and now his heart practically overflowed with it. He asked if it was too soon to say something like that and you shook your head.

“Not when we were destined to be together. I love you, too, Marcus Moreno.”

The pendant buzzed heartily once more before going still as if Frigg herself was saying “Finally.”

thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated but never demanded.

[donotpush]

Big and full

CW: feeding/stuffing kink, gaining (mention of weight gain), pregnancy, slightly NSFW-ish content but most of it just fluff :). 

Hi! This is a comission I did for a dear friend of mine (hi Vera c:) and she allowed me to publish here. As you can see, it's not my usual content (actually, it's something I'm not to familiar with lol) but I hope you can enjoy it!

Alissa stared at herself in the mirror, and the woman standing in front of her was a total stranger.

Her fingers brushed over the fabric of her shirt, caressing her bump before her fingers slowly started to undo the buttons one by one. 

She knew that her body, her whole self, would change. And she was almost ready to take it in as a blessing, a moment to appreciate changing and her new body as it came.

It was a miracle, after all; she was growing not one but two new lives inside her. It was something to be more than proud of, and of course, she had to put on some weight!

But as the months went by, and as her pregnancy went on, her wife’s cooking skills also gathered a new level of greatness. Leah became a wonderful cook.

Not only did she take care of the house, and being a stay-at-home mom-to-be, Leah found time to perfect her cooking skills.

It started with less takeout and more homemade food, and then the homemade food became elaborate fancy plates worthy of a restaurant. 

Oh, and dessert almost every night? It was almost as if Leah was doing it purposefully at this point.

That explained why the reflection she saw was completely different from the Alissa she knew six months ago. 

Her thighs had become soft and giggly, bigger than before and growing along with her stomach, not only huge because of the two lives growing inside but with an additional warm and soft thickness from eating way too much.

Her toned arms now hide under a layer of fat, strong as always but now gentle and squishy; she put weight on everywhere, she was heavy, and she learned to love that feeling of being full. 

Her breasts, now huge, engorged with milk, were full. And she loved it. Her stomach was full of life and full of delicious food. 

Being full, that's what she loved the most. 

Her hands found their way to her own back, crawling up her skin to unclasp her bra, freeing her aching chest for once. 

Her breasts hang low, heavy in front of her, just like her belly.

Sometimes it was hard to see such a different person, and it was a continuous battle of hating-loving the new Alissa. 

But the pleasure of feeling full always won. 

Her mouth started watering as she wondered what her wife was cooking. Hopefully, something sweet. The babies were craving it.

“God…” she mumbled to herself, turning to the side to examine her image in the mirror.

Her ass and belly, covered in freshly red stretch marks, had never been so huge. To Leah, it all was alluring, but Alissa was starting to doubt it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when a pair of hands gripped her hips gently, squeezing softly before they traveled further up to her breasts. Looking down, one hand started to knead her breasts, massaging the tender area softly as the other hand rubbed over the curve of her abdomen. 

She looked at the mirror again to watch as her wife worked her magic, her eyes falling shut as pleasure started spreading through her body.

"What?" Leah mumbled, staring at the half-naked reflection in the mirror "What's wrong?"

The redhead just shook her head, trying to smile and failing miserably. She took one last look at her reflection before fixing her eyes on her wife's. 

"I've put on too much weight lately, huh?" Alissa asked rhetorically. “Maybe I should quit all that stuff you make, babe. It's getting..." her hands moved to the underside of her belly, "...well…bigger."

Leah smiled shyly, nodding slightly, and her hands moved from Alissa's breasts down to her belly before cupping the bump lovingly. 

"Well, what did you expect with two healthy babies in here?"

Leah's tone told Alissa that she wasn't in for any kind of argument. 

"You know that's not what I mean," she insisted "I should start eating more healthily... that means no dessert."

Leah's hands slid off her belly, making her feel cold for a second, and she wrapped her arms around Alissa before pouting. 

"But...but... you're eating for three now!" she exclaimed, before taking a deep breath, "...and you're the hottest woman I know. Especially now. Like right now."

Alissa snorted in amusement, rolling her eyes. "You're unbelievable," she murmured, pulling her wife into a kiss, their closeness only interrupted by the redhead’s gravid belly between them. 

A small moan escaped her lips when Leah pressed her body against hers, and Alissa wasn’t sure if it was because her libido was doing unreal things lately, or because the sudden smell of black forest cake seeped inside the bedroom and invaded her nostrils.

“I’m serious, babe…” Alissa whined.

“I’m serious too! All this,” Leah interrupted, her hands softly gripping all over Alissa's body, her fingers playing with her stomach. "Is nothing but proof of how incredible you are. What a beautiful thing you've become!" The words were sweet, but the tone was full of desire. "And I love it, all of it" the last word seemed to float in space for a while. "All of it."

Alissa couldn't help but smile.

“So?” Leah mumbled, “You have no idea what a delicious dessert I made. You seriously gonna stand me up like that?”

Humming, Alissa stared at her wife through the mirror, before her eyes narrowed in thought. A small smile formed on her lips as she turned around, leaning in to press a buzzing kiss against Leah’s bare shoulder.

“I could divorce you for this” Leah breathed, enjoying the touch. “It’s a deal breaker for me, y’know?”

“Yeah?” the redhead chuckled, taking Leah’s hands in hers, moving them for her ass to rest on her belly. One of the babies kicked. “Alright, but only because your kids are demanding it.”

Leah jumped a bit in her place, pulling away from her wife with a grin. Alissa thought she could eat all the little silly cakes needed if that meant making Leah happy.

Leah rushed out of the door, and Alissa waddled towards her bed to grab the discarded shirt and pull it again, buttoning only the necessary buttons so it didn’t hang open. 

***

“M’lady," Leah pulled the chair back, allowing her wife to sit down before pressing a small kiss against her neck. “Good. Great. Glad to serve you tonight.”

The plate slid in front of her, and Alissa's mouth almost watered. 

Not only did it smell good, but it also looked amazing, and since her wife’s hands were magic, she couldn’t wait to taste it in her mouth.

She reached to grab a fork, but Leah’s hand won the race and got ahead, taking the fork first. With a questioning look, Alissa bit the tip of her tongue. 

“Allow me to…” Kneeling next to her, Leah took a piece of the cake “...here.”

“I’m not…a baby” crossing her arms over her gravid belly, Alissa raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin up and looking down at her wife. “Totally can eat it myself. Are you seriously gonna do this, hun?”

“I’m not babying you,” Leah argued softly, resting her chin against Alissa’s arm. “I just want to pamper my wife. Completely spoil you.”

Alissa hesitated for a single second before her stomach grumbled when the smell of whipped cream and chocolate started teasing her indignantly.

“Fine” the redhead nodded, her eyes following the fork full of cake in the air. “Alright.”

Leah giggled as she moved the fork in the air, taking it to Alissa's parted lips with annoying slowness for the redhead, and as soon as it touched her tongue, she let out a loud groan.

Leah’s eyebrow raised expectantly as she pulled away a bit, staring carefully at every expression that crossed her wife’s face. The redhead's eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed as she chewed, and Alissa tilted her head back slightly as she relished the food.

It was delicious.

“Li, baby,” the redhead moaned, opening her eyes to stare at Leah. “This is not great, it’s amazing. So good…!

The chocolate, the perfectly achieved texture of the cake, the whipped cream that now covered the corners of her lips, everything was a perfect combination and it tasted like heaven. This woman knew how to do these things.

Leah’s hand traveled to her belly, lifting her shirt a bit to caress the underside of it before they moved to rest on her soft thigh. With a reassuring squeeze, she leaned in to rest her ear against her wife’s huge stomach.

The twins moved inside, making the redhead groan and Leah chuckle. Alissa’s tummy grumbled, protesting for more, and Leah moved to put another piece of cake on the fork. 

Alissa took another bite, Leah’s hand rubbing softly all over her belly, sending Alissa into relaxation under the soothing touch.

Bite after bite, the huge piece of cake that Leah had set down on the pristine white plate was gone, leaving behind only a chocolate-covered mess. 

Alissa spread her legs wider, trying to accommodate her bloated belly a bit better; if it wasn’t hard enough, whenever she ate the already huge stomach that rested in front of her bloated even more. 

And she would be lying if she said that she didn’t find a certain guilty pleasure in the feeling of being so full; of her babies, of sweet, delicious food. 

That’s the part that made it so hard to put the fork down, every bite and flavor seemed to be the best she ever had, and being so full, so bloated, with a loving wife willing to give her all the belly rubs that she needed afterwards. It was hard.

Alissa tilted her head to face Leah, who was licking the rest of the cake from the fork, and raised her eyebrows as she bit her lip. “...still have a bit of room, y’know?”

“Huh? I thought you were trying to quit all this…” Smirking, Leah stood up, taking the plate with her.

The redhead watched as her wife put another piece of cake on the plate before bringing it to the table. Without another word, Leah was once again almost stuffing her face with cake. And Alissa had no complaints.

By the moment she finished the second round, Alissa’s face was flustered, messy and blushed. She felt like a kid as she licked her fingers clean, Leah’s thumb brushing over the corner of her lips to clean a whipped cream stain. 

With a sigh, Alissa looked down at her gravid belly, now resting heavy and full on her thighs between her open legs. She had to pull the chair back to get more room for her belly, but it felt so good to be so full.

When Leah’s hand started rubbing all over the tense, bloated orb, Alissa moaned and leaned her head back, her whole body relaxing as her stomach was pampered. 

She took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, pop. 

The lonely button that shamelessly tried to cover her belly popped, revealing her stomach and her engorged breasts.

“Hmh…” Alissa moaned, biting her lips as she pushed her hips forward, not caring about anything else but the feeling of her lover’s hand. 

Amazed, Leah stared in awe and lust at her wife. The babies moved under her touch, getting another moan from her mom’s lips, and Leah just could smirk thinking about her next recipe. 

“What a perfect view” Leah whispered against her skin, her hand massaging the hard belly. "And you know the best part?"

Alissa lifted her gaze, watching how her wife slowly lowered herself onto her knees and gently ran her fingers across the swollen stomach, and she knew the answer. The best part was that she had yet to get even bigger.

"We still have so much time to satisfy all your cravings" Leah hummed, her hand coming to rest on the curve of her stomach where the twins were kicking, their gazes locked together, both of them smirking at each other. "Get you big. Big and full, hun."

[kiasnocturnality]

✩ ──── 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

✩⋆ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Aphaeleon

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i was talking ab swords and i remembered how aphae's sword is a part of him and i got a lil idea hehe. this is a steamy fic of aphae saying 'fuck god but i like his aesthetic'

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, blasphemy, religious imagery, sex in a church, aphae's plan to take down god, aphae as a blasphemy warning in itself, body carving, bloodplay, god/worshipper dynamic, roleplay, character breaking at end

Light poured in from behind Aphaeleon’s tall body which loomed over you: casting you in rainbows of pinks, oranges, ambers and liquid gold. his wings were stretched out behind his back, a translucent veil dotted with golden stars over his head and face, falling to his chest where his robes opened and fell over his shoulders to reveal rich, tanned skin. he was dressed like a saint of luxury with a glimmering stole depicting heaven and the sun. You knelt bare before Him, a rosary of amber beads bearing a six-rayed sun pendant at the end wrapped around your hands which were pressed together in prayer for the holy being standing above you. 

“Rise.” His lilted voice filled you with a peace only given through an angel’s harp strings and hymns and you meekly obeyed, standing in front of him. In any other circumstance, you would be embarrassed to stand utterly naked before a figure of such imposing authority but his teachings had taught you to make a home of your mortal vessel, to cherish and care for the one body you had as opposed to hating it and hiding it away. Your body was a blessing and it was your duty to look after and appreciate it. 

The angel reached his hand out to you and you felt liquid electricity wash over you upon taking his offer, curling your hand around two of his fingers as he turned around and led you to the altar, gliding across the stone floor of the church. How blessed you were to touch the earthly vessel of such a holy being, of your next God. he turned to you and your face slackened in utter awe when his large palm cupped your cheek and the side of your neck. One of his eyes was a soft green, the other a warm brown and both filled with multiple irises so that, if not for the intensity of his gaze (and the other single-irised eyes which appeared and disappeared across his body) you would not quite be able to tell where he was looking. 

“You have been so very devoted to me.” he murmured softly as his thumb caressed the softness of your cheek, “To thank you for your faith, I would like to assure that your soul is marked as mine, that you will not be victim to the harsh and unjust judgement of he who rules heaven now.” You breathed in a shaky gasp at being presented with such an opportunity, clutching your prayer beads tighter as you nodded your head. He smiled and let out a little laugh that sounded like a choir song to your ears, amused and approving of your eager reaction. “Very well, my dawn, come, take a seat.” he swept his hand out in a gesture to the altar and as you prepared yourself to push your body up onto the surface, you were surprised by his hands taking hold of your hips and raising you himself, coaxing you to lay back against the cloth-covered stone. 

You knew why he called his most devoted followers ‘dawn’, it was because you were the ones who would help Him bring the dawn of a new era, of a world ruled over by a god who would not abandon his followers to sin and disorder. 

“There you go…” he cooed and brushed your hair away from your forehead to press his lips to your brow tenderly, fingers caressing your jaw as he pulled away and took in your wide-eyed look. “Do you trust me?”

“Blindly.” You replied, your voice merely a whisper as you were still so overwhelmed to be holding his attention like this. 

“Good…” he solemnly closed all of his eyes and reached for his exposed chest. his sun kissed skin began to glow with the same holy light of his halos and you watched his brows furrow as he reached his hands past the surface of his chest. When his fist reemerged, it was wrapped around the black hilt of a sword with a golden pommel bearing a sun with six rays. The blade itself had symmetrical, angular cutouts on either side and enochian engraved into it from the base going out. As the cut of the blade tapered together, it faded to a more golden colour and the entire thing emitted that same holy light. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight. 

“This…” he began, “Is my sword, a very part of me that I am incomplete without.” he explained, “It is an extension of my body if it pleases you to see it that way, if you think of me as the vessel I show you now.” You held your breath when he laid it over the top of your body, the tip just poking at your throat. “And it is with my body… that I shall mark you as mine.” he breathed out words in a language only minimally understood by humans before taking up the blade again and rising up to stand upon the edge of the altar, charged by one swift swoop of his wings. 

He knelt so that his knees were on either side of yours and it felt wrong to have such a mighty and holy being like Him to kneel in your presence, even if it was above you. With his left hand, he ran his fingers down the blade and held it higher as though inspecting it, caressing the gleaming metal as though it were a lover. 

“I shall be as gentle as I can, be not afraid, my dawn.” he spoke and his voice filled your ears like honey-soaked silk, leaving you unable to do little more than nod as though in a trance. Perhaps you were in a trance but, if so, you were happy to stay there knowing that you had never felt more at peace. 

He made the first cut into your skin and you turned your eyes to the stained glass instead. You were to look straight at him if it hurt too much. He was depicted there too in whites, ambers and golds, seated at the very top of heaven. The window was to be a reminder of why you all came here, of what you were here to help him achieve for the greater good of the world and realms beyond it. Your head tilted even further back to gaze at a window of mostly reds and darkly-tinted glass, contrasted with the yellows and golds of the angel-god who was carving into you with his sword, with his body. he was fighting off hordes of demons as he had done before realising that God had intended for a higher path, for Him to dethrone him and be a better ruler in his place. You did your best not to wince as you felt various cuts grace your sternum, just below the centrepoint of your breasts. 

“There you go…” The sword was laid across your body once more and you let out a squeak when his lips graced the bloodied wounds, painting his lips red which he then pressed to your forehead. You were trembling beneath Him at being lavished with such attention and he only looked down at you with the softest eyes as his thumb smeared your blood into a small circle bearing six outward lines. His sun. He was still leaning down over you, his blonde curls tickling the sides of your face with how he had flipped his veil back. “here…” he carefully took your hands and wrapped them around his sword, laying you down like some ancient warrior’s burial. 

“The flesh may be dirty to some,” he began as his fingers trailed over the blade, heading downwards, “but to myself… it is to be cherished. Do you wish to feel cherished, y/n?” Your body quivering, you nodded your head and he flashed you a smile as gentle as Spring sunshine. “Then submit yourself to me… mind, body, soul.” 

“They’re all already yours.” You interjected, not wanting Him to doubt your unwavering faith for a moment. He let out a contented hum and the tinted light from the window mingled with the glow from the sword as your thighs were pushed apart. 

“You just hold on to that now…” he spoke as his fingertips danced up your inner thighs, skimming over your dampening folds and coaxing you to hold the sword to the side a little in order to better reach you. “There you go…” There was a slight edge to his voice as you squeezed the hilt of the sword, a keening tone lacing his words. You bit back a moan when his fingers dipped into your slit to find the slight wetness there and he dragged it up to your clit, smearing your arousal over the sensitive nub before you watched in a mix of disbelief and awe as his tongue unfurled from behind his plush lips and he lapped at his fingers. He could taste you and he covered his skin in generous amounts of saliva at the same time his fingertips prodded at your entrance again, slipping in just barely before exiting again. You let out a whimper and your knuckles paled around the sword, hearing a soft moan leave the angel’s lips as he dove his fingers deeper into your warm and plush walls. “Doing so well…” He praised, letting out a ragged breath as his thumb pressed to your clit once more, drawing deliberate circles. 

He slowly, slowly, waited until you were squirming upon the altar beneath him, drawing out your pleasure before upping his ante. His fingers curled up in search of your sweet spot and he finally began to drag them in and out at a steady pace. A shudder ran through his wings when you twisted your hands around the hilt of the blade and his feathers ruffled up, the smaller wings behind his ears retreating into the voluminous curls of his hair. It seemed to stir a neediness in him that had his fingers tear away from their steady pace, instead they plunged into you as they chased for your release. 

Your fingers trembled in their tight hold and hisses and moans were drawn from the angel’s lips as he glanced over your body, marked by his blade, by his body, with the symbol of his new sun. 

“Come for me.” He implored and it turned your world upside down to have him beg you for something, “Come for me right now, my dawn.” You couldn’t resist the siren’s-call of his words and obeyed immediately, gripping onto the sword as though it were a lifeline as your back arched up off the cloth beneath it, walls clamping down and creaming around where his fingers remained buried in you. He slowed down to help you ride out your high and you watched as he trembled, unaware of the cum now staining his pants from where you had not realised your effect of touching his body in such a moment. 

Panting, he took the sword from your hands and returned it to his chest, shrugging off his outer robe – a dull white and embroidered all over with gold – to wrap around your shoulders as he pulled you to sit up and lean against his body, dipping his head down to kiss the sun marked upon your forehead. 

“I didn’t know the sword could make you feel such a way~” You teased with contentment thick in your voice, still coming down from your high as you broke character. He laughed a little and buried his face in your hair. 

“Don’t think I’ll be getting it out again any time soon now that you know.” He replied playfully before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for indulging this fantasy of mine.” 

“It was fun and… better after mass than before it, we certainly wouldn’t have finished in time.” You laughed. 

“Would that have been so bad?” He drawled out and you hit his shoulder. 

“Yes!” You replied, “Especially for your image.” 

“I’m God, they won’t question my image.” 

“You’re to be God and there are still many people out there who don’t follow you and who will question your image.” You reminded him and he hummed as he brushed back some of your hair. 

“You’re right. This is why you’re my prime little saint.” He quipped with a peck to your cheek. 

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[beloved-31-proverbs-women]

How can your wife be as romantic as your side chick when you have impregnated her 5 times, sent her to labour 5 times, antenatal, postnatal and breastfeeding for many years, childcare and upbringing till each baby turns 20, school runs every morning and evening, kitchen to cook for you and your 5 kids, in the hospital for many days just to look after your kids when they fall ill, house chores and groceries are still to be taken care of by her.

You the husband has caused her many cuts down her "V", cuts as a result of CS, what about sagged breast and stomach stretch marks you caused her, pimples and big nose you caused her during pregnancy, what about vomiting and loss of appetite, you have totally withdrawn your wife from the society because of the African culture and yet you don't want to value and respect her, yet the only thing you remember is that she is not romantic but your side chick is.

Put that your side chick to this life threatening adventure and see if she can cope. Please dear men, learn to appreciate your wife, life is not all about sex and romance, remember how she was before you married her and remember that you are the cause of her woes.

God bless every hardworking mother and wifey. 💞💞

[ghabbb]

I Left My Heart in Grotto

As I embarked on a spiritual journey, I found myself drawn to the serene beauty of Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto in Bulacan, Philippines. Nestled amidst the tranquil surroundings of San Jose del Monte, this sacred pilgrimage site offered a profound experience of faith, tranquility, and natural beauty.

Upon arriving at the grotto, I was captivated by the grand staircase that led me towards the sanctuary. With each step, I could feel a sense of anticipation building within me, as if I was embarking on a pilgrimage of the soul. The 305 steps symbolized the number of times the Virgin Mary appeared to Saint Bernadette in Lourdes, France, infusing the journey with a profound spiritual significance.

Reaching the top, I was greeted by the awe-inspiring statue of Our Lady of Lourdes. Her serene presence radiated a sense of peace and comfort, inviting me to pause and offer my prayers and intentions. Lighting a candle, I felt a deep connection to the countless pilgrims who had sought solace and healing in this sacred space.

Stepping into the grotto, I was enveloped by a sense of serenity. The natural rock formation, adorned with vibrant flowers and lush greenery, created a tranquil sanctuary. The gentle trickle of water from a nearby spring added to the soothing ambiance, as if nature itself was whispering messages of hope and renewal.

As I explored the grotto, I encountered stations depicting the mysteries of the Rosary. Each station invited me to reflect on the life and teachings of Jesus, as well as the unwavering devotion of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was a profound opportunity to deepen my faith and find solace in the power of prayer.

Beyond its spiritual significance, Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto offered breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside. From the elevated vantage point, I marveled at the picturesque landscape, with rolling hills and verdant fields stretching as far as the eye could see. It was a reminder of the beauty of God's creation and a moment to appreciate the harmony between nature and spirituality.

Leaving the grotto, I carried with me a renewed sense of peace and a strengthened connection to my faith. Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto in Bulacan had provided me with a sanctuary for reflection, prayer, and spiritual rejuvenation. It was a place where the sacred and the natural intertwined, offering a profound experience of beauty, tranquility, and divine grace.

A visit to Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto in Bulacan is a transformative journey for the soul. It is a place where one can find solace, seek spiritual guidance, and immerse themselves in the awe-inspiring beauty of faith and nature. Whether you are a devout Catholic or a seeker of tranquility, this sacred pilgrimage site offers a profound experience that will leave an indelible mark on your heart and spirit.

[mrskurono]

title: Fat Girl a/n: I really appreciate when writers write chubby!readers but honestly I need more than thicc thighs and a cute tummy. This is self indulgent as shit bc I have an “apple” body type and chubby!reader doesn’t fit my body type per say + might turn this into a series idk + I’m a fat chick so don’t get your panties in a bundle  word count: 1k tags: the usage of the word “fat” often, smut, vaginal penetration, soft but horny Suna, breeding kink ish, creampie, dirty talk, established relationship, chubby chaser Suna character(s): Rintaro Suna (hq)

Rintaro was a glutton. Head to toe. He was just that. A glutton.

Calloused and strong middle blocker hands made to stop volleyballs looked the best when they were grabbing fistfuls of your love handles. This he would tell you until the day he died. His body was for you first. Volleyball second.

Those same giant hands were holding onto your handles like his life depended on it. Long fingers pressed into the soft fat of your sides and sweat dripping down his nose as he stared down at you. Stalling his hips just for his sake and nothing more. If he moved anymore he was certain he’d loose himself. And he didn’t want it to end just yet.

“Shit-” His chest heaved with a shaky breath. Rintaro’s love drunk gaze turned down to you and only you under him, “Look at you-” 

Handsy as ever. Rintaro couldn’t figure out where to look or what to grab first. Every stretch mark over your stomach and chest was a map to another wonderful area of your body he craved. He could mold his hands into your supple stomach. Squish your breasts together and lick along the stretch marks. Or he could slip his cock out of you and slide his length along your fat cunt lips. He wanted to do it all. Plain and simple. Rintaro was a glutton for you.

“Shut up.” You roll your head back with a groan leaving your slightly parted lips. Hips bucking up to meet his with some kind of friction after he stopped, “...You’re just saying that.”

Rintaro shook his head. Leaning himself down to catch your lips on his. Not about to resume a quick pace like he had been. Instead the middle blockers hips flexed with short snaps of his cock into you. Burying himself down to the hilt each time. Leaving you to do nothing short of moan on his lips and grip his forearms when he hovered above you.

Another thing he savored. All that extra warm skin and you could enveloped his long cock. Rintao never felt like this about someone before. He was stupidly drunk on the idea of loving you more and more each day. 

“You’re so fucking hot-” He moaned against your lips, biting needy at your bottom one when your breath hitches and breaks the kiss, “Everything. I want it.”

Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. Rintaro leaned back up. Hooking his hands in your hips and smiling as all your extra tummy covered his hands when he yanked you down fully on his cock. Nestled so perfectly inside you. He swore you were made for him in more ways than one. Only thinking in fleeting thoughts about how good you could look with more than just his cock inside you.

Thoughts aside, the man swallowed the lump in his throat watching your stomach jiggle with his little forceful thrust. He wanted to put his mouth on it. Suck, bite, worship. Every single inch. To do so he’d have to pull out and he wasn’t willing to do that yet.

“Rin,” his name leaving your lips like a plea, he knows what it does to you when he fixates down on you like this. Sending shivers through your entire body as he gorges on the sight of you naked under him, “Fuck me already. God please-”

No need for an invitation to a feast of such caliber. Rintaro bottomed out in your fat cunt in one snap of his hips. The squelch of your juices around his cock and the way your supple walls milked him. Desperate not to cum he didn’t want anything for himself until he got the pleasure of seeing you writhe in pleasure on his cock.

Quickly his fingers went to your folds to find your clit. In desperation for himself as much as it was for you. Long, strong fingers working over your sensitive bud when he found the sweet spot that made you tighten around him and moan like a whore for him. With laser focus Rintaro wouldn’t move his fingers from the quick little circles paired with his cock fucking your deepest parts. He watched entranced by the way your body reacted.

Folds, creases and stretch marks all over your soft stomach. Leaving Rintaro wishing he had more hands to grab and grope at your fat. He wanted to. No, needed to.

“S-Shit- Rin!” Your cry broke him from his trance. Followed suit by the real way you tightened around him.

Rintaro grunted, eyes set on you like a predator. He wanted your orgasm and he wanted it now. With an extra flick of his finger over your clit and the way his stomach flexed when he thrusted into you harder than before. Was simply the undoing you needed to cum on your boyfriend. 

And you came hard, Rintaro wasn’t ready to let you just ride out an orgasm. He pulled you down on him when you squirmed and shuddered. Keeping you on his entire length with the violent shaking of your hips. His name leaving your lips like a curse and a blessing wrapped into one. It was too much.

“I can’t-” His eyes shut with one last stroke. Forcing his cock inside until he bottomed out in you. All of it too much. Your plush walls twitching around him and your fat cunt lips against the base of his cock that left him soaked in your juices. Rintaro didn’t hide it. Grip on your love handles to pull you closer to him as he came hard. Each gush of cum leaving him moaning incoherently and drooling outside your cunt.

Recovered from your orgasm sooner than his. Rintaro gave up as he laid on top of you with deep breathes trying to regain his composure or fall asleep. He wasn’t sure which one was going to come first. Your arms coming around and holding him close to you as he relaxed on top of you. Fingers combing through his hair that earned a sweet hum from him. 

Realizing his hands were free. Rintaro snaked his hands to your sides. Now that he could, he grabbed you tight. Feeling the squish of your plush body in his hands. 

It was clear to you that he wanted to squeeze your fat from the moment you two started making out earlier, “You’re so weird.” 

He buried his face in your neck. Squishing you like that was enough of an answer. But then he took a moment and kissed your neck softly without lifting his head, “My hands are better for grabbing you than playing volleyball. So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Rintaro was a shameless glutton for a fat girl. 

[ticiaaddams]

Sinclair brothers with their s/o who have stretch marks

Warnings: agnst, slight NSFW, female reader, less self esteem, fluffy.

Bo Sinclair

There was a day when Bo came home late at night and saw you laying on the couch, but he suspected that there was something wrong when your face was hidden by your hands. When he sat by your side, you try to stand up to lock yourself in the bedroom, if it weren't for your arm being grabbed by Bo;

"What's the matter, baby?" Bo ask a little worried when he saw traces of recent crying, which means cheeks and nose reds, besides the low sound of crying. Fact! You were worried about how the Sinclair see your body after watch some models in bikinis on TV;

"Be sincere, you don't like my body, 'cause of these damn stretch marks..." You said with an upset tone, holding on to not cry in front of your man. This made Bo perplex due to your self-depreciation comment;

"Are you kidding me, baby? I think they're pretty hot" Bo said with a natural tone. He learned to like scars or marks, because of you! In the beginning, the Sinclair had admitted that he didn't like the scars in his wrists, although you made him see with other eyes. Actually, they’re the reason why Bo receives many affectionate kisses in the bruised area. He’ll not admit it, but he doesn't want you to stop. Like: never!;

"..." That praise surprises you in such a way… Oh God! Your cheeks got a intense red hue, as long as you try not to establish eye contact with Bo's ocean orbs "You're lying- Woah!" Before you could finish your sentence, the mechanic took you in bride style "B-Bo, what the hell are you doing?"

"Simple: I'm gonna show you how this marks make me feel about ya, baby~"

Bo will demonstrate his feelings about the marks with a lot of kisses and bites in all locals where they are. Yeah, Sinclair's not that great with words, however he'll show his affection through physical contact. It's sure he'll not let you go until both of you’re satisfied;

Poor Vincent and Lester, they couldn't sleep that night-

Vincent Sinclair

He will be upset about it, 'cause you're perfect to him! Otherwise, he understands in parts, because of his low self esteem, but damn! He loves you the way you are, no matter what;

Someday, you were analysing a portrait that Vincent made for you. Well, I don't need to describe how wonderful the painting was, ‘cause Vinny promised to himself that he would make a masterpiece, due to the fact you're his muse, so much so that you were retraided like an Ancient Greek muse. Literally; 

However, the artist realizes a tenuous uncomfortable expression on you, when you perceive a slight representation of your stretch marks, specifically in the bottom, which was covered in parts of white tissue. That made Vincent scared. He wondered what he did to make you feel bad, even if you tried to hide your insecurities. “What’s wrong, my love?...”

“It’s just… Why do you drew my stretches? Don’t you think they made me… defective? A painting is not supposed to be perfect, Vinny?...” You were not supposed to be rude. Never, furthermore we're talking about Vincent, who's a sweetheart. The question was made more 'cause you pretended to know Sinclair's point of view. Besides, you weren't blame him, owning to you've never talk about it;

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t know the marks would make you feel bad" Vincent says a little guilty about the details. Cause sadness or sorrow will never be his intention. "They’re painted, actually, 'cause I love all parts of you. Well, I tried to be as faithful as possible to portray the perfection you are, my love" He was acting so shy and adorable, while the fingers were playing with one of his hair strands, that you hugged quickly.

"Jesus, God blessed me when you enter in my life, Vinny. My perfect husband~♡" Once you'd declared your appreciation, one affectionate kiss was deposited on Vincent's lips and it was really delightful to see him blushing so hard. To contribute, he gave you more kisses in your face.

"If you're not comfortable with it, I can try to make another painting"

"No, don't you dare! You're not allowed to touch that perfection, 'cause I feel like a goddess in this portrait!"

"Heh~ So, I reach my goal"

Lester Sinclair

Both of you've decided to walk with Jonesy through Ambrose's surroundings. Due to the sunny day, Lester's suggested to go to the river, then you accepted; 

It was so damn hot, so your boyfriend and the dog entered in the creek. You stayed under a shadow's tree, just to appreciate the playful atmosphere. Yeah, Lester was acting like a child, while playing with his lovely dog. Getting more and more wet. It's possible to say his funny personality is what made you fall in love with him;

"Darling! Come and play with us!" When Sinclair said it, all euphoric, from the river, you don't feel the same. Because of your insecurity about stretch marks, you've always tried to avoid situations where clothes needed to be taken off. In response, you just shake your head negatively "The water is nice, baby! You'll like it!" He said with a great smile, but it wasn't enough to convince you…

Lester wanted you to stay by his side to have a great couple moment, however your expressions didn't indicate happiness. He just sat by your side to listen to what you have to say. He could be animated, but knows the time to be serious too.

"Lester, do my stretch marks bother you?" You asked a little worried what was going to be said;

"Uh… I don't see any reason to be bothered 'cause of them. Why should they have to be a problem?" Lester surely was flustered with your question. It seems having stretch marks were not a problem for him. This subject is really more simple for your man than you thought about yourself;

"There are other girls… Without marks… With perfect bodies..." You were about to cry, except for Lester, who dried your tears with his thumbs. That was a heartbreaking scene for Sinclair;

"Darling, you don't need to be like these girls to be perfect. You're perfect to me and some marks will not change my mind" Your embarrassment was so powerful that you steal Lester's cap to hide your face "Also, we have seen each other's body. If I kissed all of you, it's a signal that I want you" His whispers in your ear provoke shivers on your spine. You just wanted to know if there is or not implicit content;

"Thank you, sweetie" You deposited a kiss on his lips, however Jonesy was barking for attention, so both decided to give what she wanted. Maybe you could join Lester to swim in the river, but your conscience was lighter knowing your man loves you sincerely. 

Bonus: all of them will slay (or transform in wax dolls) people who said nasty comments about you!

I love Sinclair brothers and that's it! ❤

[buckyismybicycle]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Rating: Explicit  Tags/Warnings: Lingerie, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, 1940s, Jealousy, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Frottage, First Time, Mutual Pining Summary: Bucky likes pretty girls in pretty lingerie and Steve wants Bucky to look at him like that, too. That's it, that's the whole fic.

For @buckybarnesbingo​ -  U3: "Jealousy"

Steve stares at the clock, his pencil tapping lightly on the desk and his mind drawing a blank. Tonight, the sketch doesn’t flow freely from his brain to his fingertips, because the subject of most of his sketches is out, dancing with...whatever her name is, and her friend. Friends.

He gets it, really, he does. Especially as an artist, he can appreciate the gentle curves and soft skin of women, topped with delicate features and draped in silky smooth fabrics. He understands the appeal of their alluring ruby lipstick, especially when Bucky wears their marks on his neck like badges, and the way their dresses flutter around them with every twist and turn. God knows he’s been in enough dance halls, watching.

Once, he’d accidentally spotted Bucky with his dame of the night on the couch, and thankfully she’d had her back turned to Steve’s door. He was going to close the door as quickly and quietly as possible but then he’d caught sight of Bucky’s face, of that lopsided grin, as he licked his lips.

Bucky’s hands had been up her dress, Steve could only just see them move under the fabric, working up her back. And when she leaned in for a kiss, his eyes fluttered closed and Steve… Well, nobody could see that he was looking, so what would an extra second or so hurt?

Without looking, Bucky’s hand came out from underneath and expertly undid the little zipper at the back.

“Eager, are we?” She mumbled against his lips, breaking the kiss.

“Ah ‘course I am, doll. Have ya seen how ya look?” Steve shrinks back a bit, lets the familiar charm of Bucky’s drawl make its way down his whole body, straight into his cock.

The next time Steve had peeked, her clothes had dropped to the floor and Bucky’s finger had started tracing her garments. White. Silky. Laced edges. For a moment, the artist inside Steve admired how delicate and beautiful they were, intricate patterns that Bucky must feel under his fingertips as he explored them. Steve swallows a lump of jealousy at how careful Bucky is, how attentive he is to the feel of them.

“Beautiful, doll. So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice soft and lustful, pressed to the skin of her shoulder.

“Oh, Bucky,” she says breathlessly when he buries his face in her chest. Her hands come up to rake through his hair, wrecking what Steve knew had taken Bucky a careful amount of pomade and time to do.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Steve doesn’t want to watch after that.

He first has to get over the guilt of spending the money on something he knows is unnecessary. Foolish, even. But oh, what he’d give to have Bucky’s eyes on him. After that realization, it’s a piece of cake.

It’s entirely too easy for Steve to lie and say yes when they ask if it’s for his special girl. It’s entirely too easy for Steve to pick out exactly what he wants and have it fit like a dream.

The way the lightweight panties sit on his hips accentuates his slight frame, but Steve likes the little black bow on them. It sits above where his cock is nestled in the breathable material, and every time Steve moves, the cool air tickles him, his dick twitching inside every now and then.

His size has always been something that bothers him, something that holds him back. But today —

Today it is a blessing.

He’s thankful for the way he can slip his slim legs into the sheer white stockings, pale and milky, almost blending into his skin. Even likes the way they look as he stretches his limbs. He clips them into the matching garter belt he has around his waist. In front of the mirror, he turns around slowly, wondering if he would ever be brave enough to show Bucky. If Bucky would laugh at him or trace his body the way he does with his gals.

Steve feels… pretty. Even if it means he has to draw the curtains closed and clip them together, even if it makes him what they say he is. A fairy. But he admires himself, for once, wrapped up in silks and bows like a present.

He’s so lost in himself that he doesn’t hear the door open or the telltale signs of Bucky kicking off his shoes by the door.

“Steve?”

He nearly brains himself off the bed with how quickly he turns around.

“Bucky?!”

There’s a heavy silence as they face off – both with their mouths agape for very different reasons. Steve can feel himself flush, from the high set of his cheeks all the way down to his chest.

“Don’t –”

“Holy –”

Steve finally comes to his senses, and yanks the blanket off the bed, covering himself. What he doesn’t expect is for Bucky to frown like he’s been put out.

“Oh,” is all Bucky manages. Steve catches a glimpse of Bucky’s face before he turns, pink-cheeked and… crushed?

“Fuck, sorry, Stevie, I – I’ll –” Bucky turns and exits the room hastily, slamming the door a little harder than intended, making the photos on the wall shake. Steve, with the blanket still gripped and tucked beneath his chin, is left shaken to the core, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

It takes him a solid minute to get his breathing under control, for his hands to stop trembling enough to slip a sweater over his head, and think about something other than smothering himself with a pillow.

He has no idea how he’s going to face Bucky. Ever. His cheeks are burning so hotly it almost feels like a fever and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. He curses himself for ever even thinking about this stupid idea. Having no idea how much time has passed, he jumps at the timid knock that comes and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin again.

“Steve? Uh, the food’s gettin’ cold and…”

Steve hears some uneasy shuffling on the other side, before Bucky continues, his voice sounding unsure for the first time in years. “If you want me to head out for a bit or somethin’, I can…”

Steve bites his lip, because this is the exact opposite of what he wanted! He wasn’t trying to chase Bucky away, hates that Bucky would even think that, so he collects himself and swallows his pride. Swinging the door open, he sees Bucky on the sofa, book open in his hands that he’s resting on a cushion in his lap. He closes the book with a near comical snap, not bothering to mark his place, which Steve knows he hates.

“I can –” Bucky gestures awkwardly, between himself and the door, his eyes on Steve as if waiting for his choice.

“No,” Steve says calmly. “You don’t have to do that.”

God, Steve hates this, the stifling air between them, so he turns into the kitchen, where he’d prepared dinner before trying on his stupid outfit, lines of which are still digging into his skin, a reminder of his rash decisions. Bucky normally comes in to help with serving, to which Steve always refuses because he’s not the one at work all day, but today, it’s just Steve and his burning shame.

When he returns with their plates, Bucky is still sitting on the couch, hands on the cushion, picking at his fingernails, and Steve can’t stand it. He plops the plates down and tells himself to own up to it – he’s the one that made it this way.

“Bucky.” Admittedly, he hadn't really thought past that part, all he knew was that he needed Bucky to talk to him, to look at him. “How’s this gonna work, huh? You can’t even look at me.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes snap to Steve’s, his brows furrowing the slightest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Real smart, jerk,” Steve spits, a little angry that Bucky won’t just deal with the issue head on. I mean, was it really that big of a deal? Bucky was supposed to be his best friend. They’ve been through more than a few embarrassing spats by now, how was it that this was what was going to break their friendship?

“Whaddya want me to say, Stevie?” Bucky asks in turn, but it doesn’t sound defiant like it normally does, it sounds more resigned. He’s moved onto picking at the loose threads of the cushion – pluck, pluck, pluck – and Steve gets fed up with it. He wants Bucky to look at him, goddammit! So he does the sensible thing and rips the cushion right off Bucky’s lap, whipping it across the room.

Bucky’s eyes widen, his body tensing, and for a second, Steve thinks that maybe he’s crossed some sort of line that he hadn’t even known existed. But then Bucky closes his legs, starts to flush and Steve’s eyes, more because he can’t help it, drift down at land firmly on Bucky’s crotch,

Where a not-so-insignificant bulge has formed and Bucky had apparently been trying to hide.

“What,” Steve blurts out unintelligibly. Bucky looks about as mortified as Steve had felt, before he gets up, but Steve doesn’t budge, has the audacity to even push Bucky back down on the cushion, a move neither of them had expected.

“It’s nothing!” Bucky defends. “Stop making it weird, it doesn’t have to be, I just wasn’t exactly expecting to come home to you all dolled up for someone, jeez.”

For someone.

“I just…. Don’t know why you didn’t tell me,” Bucky adds, his voice a little hurt. “That you had someone. Real special, too, if you went all out like this.”

Steve has to pause for a second, because this wasn’t how he thought the conversation would go.

“So… You don’t think it’s….” Steve trails off, because he’s being an idiot. Of course Bucky wouldn’t ever use those words, wouldn’t ever call Steve those things.

Bucky swallows, and Steve watches that beautiful jawline work as he grinds his teeth. “They’ll like it, Stevie. Just trust me.”

“Did you?”

“Did I… what?”

“Like it.”

“Steve, what are you playin’ at?” Bucky narrows his eyes up at him before he looks away, and he rearranges himself, grumpily. “Think the answer was clear.”

“It’s you,” Steve says shakily. It wasn’t like he could undo the past few minutes, anyhow. “It was… meant to be for you. Once I’d gathered the courage to —”

“For me?”

 Steve bites his lip; it’s all or nothing, he supposes. “Wanted you… to look at me the way you looked at all those girls.”

“Christ,” Bucky growls before he pulls Steve towards him, wide, cerulean eyes looking up at Steve as his pupils begin to dilate. “Stevie, you have no idea…”

Steve had pictured kissing Bucky a thousand times, but nothing prepared him for this, for the way Bucky’s warmth would envelop him completely as he sits in Bucky’s lap, for the way Bucky’s lips would slot perfectly against his. He’s never kissed anyone like this before, so he lets Bucky take the lead and parts his lips for Bucky’s gentle tongue.

He winds his arms around Bucky’s neck, and shivers while Bucky’s hands trail down his back, making their way up his sweater.

“Are you — you’re still wearing it?” Steve would feel embarrassed, except Bucky’s voice is filled with awe in a way that fills Steve with some form of borrowed courage.

“Maybe.”

Bucky’s hands continue their exploration, rucking the sweater up, and Steve flushes as Bucky’s fingers trace the lines of lace, just as he’d watched Bucky do all those nights ago.

“Can I see?” Bucky’s voice is so earnest when he asks, Steve doesn’t even have the capacity to be embarrassed. He helps Bucky take the sweater off, and he watches Bucky’s eyes glimmer with appreciation.

“So beautiful,” Bucky whispers, immediately hooking his fingers under the delicate fabric, not quite pulling, just tugging enough for Steve to feel it. His hands trace over every thread, his mouth following. Steve gasps when Bucky plants kisses along his collarbone and down the strap of his silky slip. It’s a soft kiss to ribs, then to the centre of his chest before he ends at the hollow of Steve’s throat.

Steve is aching with want, his fingers twitching at the base of Bucky’s skull. Bucky leans back, eyes roaming appreciatively as he holds Steve an arm’s length away to study him.

“God, Stevie, lookit you,” Bucky murmurs softly. “Pretty as a dream.” His hands smooth over Steve’s thighs, right up the stockings and over the clips, all the way up to his garter, where he uses it to tug Steve closer. Steve’s cock is leaking through the sheer fabric, but Bucky continues his slow appraisal, mumbling words into Steve’s skin. Steve could have probably come just from Bucky’s worship, it’s all he’d ever dreamed of, and yet it somehow gets better.

Steve trembles in Bucky’s hold, shudders as Bucky mouths at the fabric, his breath hot and searing into Steve’s skin.

“Buck,” Steve sighs happily. He lets his fingers wind through Bucky’s luscious hair, lets himself mess it up as he curls his fingers. When Bucky lets out a breathy moan, Steve does it again because he can — he wrecks Bucky’s perfectly styled hair and Bucky lets him, Bucky wants him to. Bucky’s hands are everywhere and it makes Steve leak constantly, the damp patch growing and coming off on Bucky’s shirt. Bucky doesn’t care, entirely consumed by his need to explore Steve. He gets brave enough to tug Bucky’s shirt off, to look, to stare, to place his cold, delicate hands on Bucky’s shoulders and have the heat travel up his palms to meet the burning flush of his chest. Bucky’s not shy about his body in front of Steve. It’s not like Steve hasn’t seen Bucky shirtless countless times, but it’s the first time he’s been able to openly appreciate it – to trace the freckles across his chest like a map to his heart.

“Steve, can I please…” Bucky’s voice trails off, the question on the tips of fingertips, hooked in Steve’s underwear.

“Yes, yeah, Buck, ‘course,” Steve rushes, canting his hips just so, letting Bucky slip them down, freeing his cock at last. Steve gasps a little when it immediately comes into contact with Bucky’s abdomen, can’t help but press in closer, a needy little noise making its way to Bucky’s ears.

Somehow, Steve feels even more unsure like this. The lace and silk had captured Bucky’s eye, might’ve even let Bucky pretend that Steve was just another dame, he was slender enough for it. But now? After Bucky’s picked him apart and unwrapped him slowly like a precious gift, with his cock pressing into Bucky’s abs? Now, there was no hiding.

“Gorgeous,” Bucky sighs happily, mouthing at Steve’s neck, his stubble scratching lightly at Steve’s already-reddened skin.

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing, can’t believe that Bucky’s looking at him just the same — possibly even hungrier. He’s dizzy from the attention, or hell, maybe all the blood’s just rushed south because when he looks at Bucky, all that tousled air and darkened eyes, he can’t help but want.

“Bucky, please, I — you,” Steve begs against his temple, the brunette still nibbling away at Steve’s collarbones.

“Yeah?” Oh, the look in Bucky’s eyes, the adoration, could it really all be for Steve?

“Yeah,” Steve insists, wriggling in Bucky’s lap, his voice getting more frantic as he paws Bucky’s pants open at last. “Wanted you – want you. Always you.”

“God, Stevie.” Bucky’s voice sounds ruined, and he gasps softly when Steve finally takes Bucky in his hand. Bucky tugs Steve closer still, thrusts upward just to rub their cocks together and Steve gets full body shivers from it. Bucky’s got his fingers entwined in the delicate threadwork while digging into Steve’s hips, encouraging Steve to rock back and forth.

Steve feels like he’s floating, even though his back is already sore, and his hips won’t last too long either.

Bucky knows, though. Bucky always knows. He smooths a hand up Steve’s curved back, brings Steve’s head to rest on his shoulder as he plants his feet firmly on the ground.

“Shh, I got you, darlin’,” he croons in Steve’s ear. He licks his palm and brings a hand around them both, making Steve jolt. He never knew what a strong effect having Bucky’s big, warm, calloused hand around him would have.

“Wait – no, I’m,” Steve stammers. “It’ll be too fast.” Steve doesn’t know what to expect next. If it were anyone else, they’d probably laugh in his face and walk away, but Bucky just looks at Steve with the same tender expression.

“Okay,” he agrees easily, moving his hands under Steve’s thighs. He supports Steve’s weight like this, thrusting against Steve as he guides the body he’s been dying to hold. “This better, sweetheart?”

“Y- yeah,” Steve pants, his fingers clutching Bucky’s shoulders, the muscles rolling beneath his fingertips. “Oh.”

It feels nothing like touching himself. In fact, it doesn't feel like anything he could describe. Bucky’s holding him like he’s something treasured, moving slowly, purposely, making it so sweet for Steve that he could cry. The feel of their cocks sliding together, spit and precome mixing, has Steve dizzy within seconds, and he has to bite his tongue to stop babbling.

“Bucky,” he whispers with a shaky breath, his body mere seconds from coming undone.

“S’okay, you can let go,” Bucky drawls in his ear, pressing Steve closer to him still. He brushes his nose against Steve’s collarbone and places his lips right over Steve’s heart. “I love you, Stevie.”

Steve’s body has never been kind to him. He’s ached and hurt, experienced a thousand different pains but today it grants him reprieve in the sweetest form. The feeling, coiled in the pit of his stomach, flares out through every vein, every nerve ending, to light his body up like the carnival. He trembles against Bucky, his breath stuttering as he comes. His cock twitches with each spurt as he gasps into Bucky’s neck, looking down in awe as it pools, dripping into the ridges of Bucky’s soft abs and spoiling the lace that’d been pulled aside.

“I love you, Bucky, I’ve always loved you.” His body valiantly goes on until he slumps against Bucky, panting. One of Bucky’s hands moves tentatively to grip his own cock, now covered in Steve’s dribble, taking them softly in hand. He waits a beat, as if seeking permission from Steve.

“Please,” Steve implores. “Wanna see you…”

Bucky tilts his head to swallow the rest of Steve’s sentence in a kiss as he starts to slide up and down their shafts, Steve nearly choking from the overwhelming stimulation. At the sound, Bucky pauses, worried, but Steve can’t have that. He reaches down, wraps his hand around the outside of Bucky’s, enveloping them further; and makes Bucky pick up speed again.

It’s hot and sticky, filthy in ways that make Steve’s cheeks burn, and it’s better than every fantasy Steve has ever had, especially when he watches Bucky come. When he hears and feels Bucky come beneath him, moaning against Steve’s lips, straining under Steve’s body.

He rises with each of Bucky’s laboured breaths, his body pleasantly tingling in the afterglow. It feels almost like a dream, it’s got to be, with him being able to melt into Bucky like an overgrown cat, Bucky’s arms still wrapped around him. He’s almost drifted off when he feels Bucky’s hands skimming along his sides again.

“Liked it, huh?” Steve manages, muffled against Buck’s neck.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Bucky answers with a smile, tipping Steve’s chin and leaning back to look him in the eye. “S’real pretty an’ all but I like the person wearin’ it a lot more.”

When Steve responds with a kiss, it starts to feel less like a dream and more like home.

  💕 Overall Masterpost |  AO3

[angryschnauzer]

Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

-

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

-

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.

[cuddlesslut]

Beginnings

Chapter Ten of Home

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Summary: a glance back

Warnings: some NSFW elements in this chapter

AN / so it looks like the chapters are going to be shorter than before but that’s just because I can only keep my energy up for so long. I really do enjoy writing but it’s easier for me to write smaller chapters rather than like before. Also I know Suna hasn’t been as present I promise we will be getting more of him soon! UNEDITED SORRY

Part Nine: Closure

You collapsed onto your bed immediately after getting home from lunch with Atsumu and you haven’t moved for at least half an hour. Emotionally you were exhausted. Seeing him and thinking about him still caused a pang in your chest but that reunion was needed. You needed to start moving past him, that much you decided. He was your first love and he wounded you in a way that may never fully heal but now there’s two amazing guys trying to help you move forward.

You let a long grown rubbing your hands over your face. This were complicated enough when you were still coming to terms with your felling with Hinata. God he must be wondering what the hell is going with you leaving with his teammate. Maybe Bokuto and Sakusa have already started filling in the blanks for him. You could see those idiots snickering to themselves when you had encountered the group earlier. A soft smile graced your lips thinking of those two. You missed those two, and their constant bickering. You had become close to the the team over the years. Having hosted several victory parties at your and Atsumu’s shared home.

A small tear slipped down your cheek running down your face as you lay staring at the ceiling. Just another thing you had lost because of the setter. You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Shaking that thought from your mind it did no good to dwell on those things now. Thinking back to your favorite orange haired man you felt slightly nervous about having to explain everything to him. Sho is nowhere near as dumb as most think ,yes he tends to get a little over excited missing some details but he’s really quite clever, so he’s probably figured out most things. It’s not like he wasn’t aware of your past you had spilled that too him a lot quicker than you had planned. You can remember that moment clearly. It was the moment your feelings for Hinata had first started becoming deeper than you had intended, even though you denied them for a lot longer.

You stretched sitting up the soft cotton sheets falling your lap as you yawned searching searching the room for the familiar sight of Shoyo’s bright orange hair. You rose your brow at the lack of his presence. The small apartment was silent. Which made you draw the conclusion that he was not here, he’s to rambunctious to be home and not make any noise not that you minded. You had a clue where he could probably be and your suspicions were confirmed as you heard him enter through the front door. It surprised you the first morning it had happened but by now you are used to Hinata going for morning runs.

He stood in the door smile spreading across his face upon seeing you awake in this bed wearing only one of his old game shirts from Brazil. Your hair still a mess and the purple marks he left last night peaking out from the collar of the crew neck. It was certainly an amazing sight for him to come back to. He leaned against the door frame lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat from his face. Now it was your turn to appreciate the view. His abs and delicious v coming into sight. Grazing your eyes down to his workout shorts that fit nice and snug against his defined thighs. God his thighs were a blessing in and of themselves. After your quick glance you look back up to the eyes of the man in front of you.

“You know I’ll never understand how you can have the energy to go running in the morning after the nights we have,” you chuckle.

A wide grin sneaks his way to his face “ sorry I’m not the one who can barely walk in the morning,” he winks.

Your jaw drops at his cheeky comment. “ oh yeah we’ll have to change that,” you state smug unsure where all of this confidence came from. Although you weren’t expecting his response.

His eyebrow quirked at your insinuation, before smirking “ alright that can be arranged sometime soon!” He chuckled enthusiastically.

Your eyes widened the scenario playing in your mind quickly.

Hinata loved the shocked but curious expression painting your features. The next thing you new Sho had bolted from his spot jumping into the bed knocking you onto your back as he hovered over you. His hot breath tickled your neck his lips grazing your pulse before giving a nip. One hand had sneaked under the shirt you wore grasping onto your hip while the other kneaded your breast. Your breath grew shaky. He lowered his head to the valley between your breast before looking up to you. Peering at you through his orange waves that dangled in his face.

“You know I still have plenty of energy to take care of you,” he teased his voice dropping an octave. “ so baby tell where do you want me.”

“I want you,” you bite your lip looking at the sinful man in front of you. Your hand grips his chin pulling him up to you face to face, your eyes drop to his lips before returning to his darkened eyes. “In the shower, now get your sweaty ass off of me!” You push his Lunky body of off you before standing.

He groans looking over at you “tease!” He yells.

You turn back sticking your tongue out at him, “ go shower loser im going to make some coffee and breakfast,” you yelled over your shoulder as you headed to the kitchen. Hinata enjoyed the view of you walking away before sighing in defeat, he was really grimy from his run, plus he could use a cold shower right now.

———

You moved around his small kitchen with an air of familiarity. It was about a little over a month since your agreement of friends with benefits began. After fixing a small breakfast and some coffee Shoyo finally emerged fully dressed and cleaned. Taking a sip from his mug and surveying the food you had made. He smiled.

“Damn Y/N this looks amazing!” He smile his signature smile. “You know it surprise me how a girl like you is single!” He doesn’t sense the mistake he had made immediately. You had never talked about why you didn’t want to date before. Not feeling your tragic history with love was appropriate pillow talk. You froze at this statement. Unwanted thoughts and memories swirling in your mind. All of your insecurities starting to surface. Hinata noticed the shift in the air immediately. It was hard not to as your hands grabbed at the counter for some stability. Your eyes trained on the surface, voice caught in your throat. How do you respond to that.

If there’s one thing about Hinata that is certain it’s that’s he’s incredibly caring. He moved around the corner of the counter standing next to your side placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N are you okay! Was it something I said? I’m real sorry ya know!” You turn to him tears brimming in your eyes. He doesn’t speak again or ask you to just pulling you into him as you bury your face into his chest as you sob. He places a reassuring hand your back rubbing soothing circles onto your back hoping to help calm you.

It feels nice and it helps a lot more than you expected. Although guilt starts to build as you realize your crying in front of a man you only know through sex. God this is embarrassing. Before you can try to retreat. Sho navigates you to his sofa. After relaxing into the cushions you look up at him. While he’s trying to look calm and reassuring you can sense the worry in him.

He takes this moment to speak. “ you know you can talk to me Y/N I’ll listen to you about whatever you have going on, no judgment.” You sigh looking up at him. Looking up into his eyes you don’t know why you aren’t more hesitant but it honestly feels like you can tell him anything. And so you do. You tell him almost everything. Leaving out names and some of the more gory details. You tell him all about your heartache. And he sits and listens to you intently. Although he didn’t show it he was furious with how you had been treated. But he didn’t want to interrupt your venting. It felt really nice to actually talk to someone about everything and how you feel and Sho was amazingly supportive throughout the whole ordeal.

Wiping the mostly dried tears from your cheeks you gave Hinata a soft smile. “ thank you Shoyo I’m sorry I dropped all of this on you, it probably not what you signed up for.” You gave a nervous chuckle.

He returned your smile, looking at you earnestly, he gripped your shoulder gently making you look up at him. “Hey none of that non sense! You can always talk to me no matter what!” He smiled.

Your eyes shinned up at him with a forgotten emotion. “Really?” You questioned

His smile grew even bigger “Yeah! Absolutely! What are friends for!” He beamed!

Friends.... why did that word give you a pang in your chest.

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[spicynamericano]

Perception. - mk lee

sypnosis: you meet a stranger in the park, who helps you prepare for your interview with renowned author, mark lee.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, strangers to friends!au, author!mark x reporter!reader

a/n: i impulsively wrote this in the wee hours of the morning because i can't stop thinking about mark lee and his poems! btw, this is my first time posting an au on this platform, but i do have ongoing twitter fics (written in eng/fil)!

I had just finished my late night shift at the office and was on my way home from work. Being a field reporter is not an easy job. I have to work my butt off to always stay up to date on the latest news and make sure to grab even the rarest exclusives.

I have to travel to basically anywhere, just to gather the most accurate information for the daily primetime news. And even if work is done for the day, I would usually go overtime to make sure no single detail is left out for tomorrow’s reports.

My workplace isn’t that far from home, or what I call home now. Moving into my elder sister’s old apartment was not a hassle. It was actually quite a blessing since I always used to stay over whenever we visited the city. I really thank the heavens that her place was near my workplace. Imagine the struggle of moving in and out from scratch. Actually, I wouldn’t even dare to imagine.

I would usually ride my bike to and from the office, but since I was running a bit late earlier in the morning, I decided to take the bus. Convenience at its finest. But it’s late now. A fifteen minute walk back home won’t hurt, right? Besides, I needed a breather. A walk in the nearby park would suffice.

It’s midnight and of course, the park is empty. Although Seoul is alive 24/7, I really like how some areas still have that laid-back vibe. I walk to the swings and place my bag on the ground. I do wish someone would push me right now. I just wanna be free from all the hectic stuff I’ve been doing lately.

But no, the quick rest I thought of didn’t stop me from going over tomorrow’s duties. I scan my little, brown notepad and check the work I have yet to accomplish. I mostly finished them before I got off work, but there is one more that I needed to do for tomorrow: interview Mr. Mark Lee, the author of the best-selling Late Night Scribbles.

It’s a collection of poems and prose he’s written over the course of five years during his travels to different cities as a renowned travel writer. His travel reviews and recommendations were something I always looked forward to reading. Maybe someday I could go on a stress-free holiday trip thanks to his advice.

I have read his book. For someone who’s trained into more technical writing like me, I could still clearly resonate with most of the poems he’s written. Not too shallow, not too deep. Though you do need to have a sense of literature in order to understand more of his deeper works. He isn’t famous for nothing.

What appalled me though is that he never showed his face to anyone, not even once. Some say he’s actually the main rapper of the world-renowned boy group NCT, since they bear the same name. I think otherwise. Well, it could be, though. Rappers do make their own lines and tell their own stories.

But I don’t think that Mark Lee would be the same person I’d be interviewing tomorrow. It’s weird because I won’t be actually meeting him face to face. He said he’d rather converse through email. Works for me since I don’t have to travel tomorrow. Thank God.

Well, let me tell you a secret. The reason I don’t think author Mark Lee is singer Mark Lee is because singer Mark Lee is actually my childhood best friend. Crazy, huh? I used to live in Vancouver when I was young until my family and I moved back to Korea during my teen years.

I don’t think he remembers me, though. But I do remember him. Our moms were practically best friends. I couldn’t say the same to us, only if he still actually remembers me.

I stretch my arms up high and bend it side to side. God, I need a massage asap. I was about to pick up my bag when a basketball rolled over and hit the tip of my loafers. A man dressed in black waves from the court, signaling to toss the ball to his direction.

I would toss it if I could but I walk over instead. Blame my poor strength and reflexes. And I obviously do not want to embarrass myself. A rough day’s a rough day. I don’t want an addition.

“Uhm, are you looking for this?” I ask the guy, tossing the ball mid-air.

“Yes, thank you…” he pauses. “uh…”

“Oh, it’s (y/n).” I introduced myself, “And you are?”

“Minhyung.”

“Well, you’re welcome, Minhyung. Good luck with your basketball practice!” I gave him a nod before finally turning back to go home.

“Wait!” he calls out. “Do you maybe wanna have a cup of coffee? There’s a nearby convenience store still open. I figured you might need it.”

Was it that obvious? I can’t imagine how stressed I look right now! He has probably seen the dark circles under my eyes. Gross.

I finally turn around and give him a smile, “You know, maybe I do need it. Let’s go?”

This man and I walk to the nearby convenience store just a few meters away from the court. It’s midnight and not many people are here. Well, just exactly like how I want it. The park can actually become full, even until 10 pm. But I guess these people also need some shut-eye. I’m actually surprised this man right here still has some energy left.

I wait outside and sit at the nearest gazebo while he buys instant coffee for the both of us. He arrives with three in hand. Does he like coffee that much?

“You’re really gonna drink two?” I ask him curiously.

“It’s actually for you,” he says as he hands me one of the cups. “I feel like you’re going to be staying up late tonight.”

Well, he’s right. I am gonna be staying up late. I still need to prepare questions for tomorrow’s, or later, rather, interview. I really won’t be getting some sleep tonight. I also need to do research on him too.

“Well, I do have an interview for tomorrow. I still need to prepare as it’s a very important one.”

“With whom, may I ask?”

“Mark Lee, the author. Not the singer.”

“Oh,” he lets out a soft sigh that can be heard, even through his mask. Is he offended that I don’t think author Mark Lee and singer Mark Lee are the same?

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

“Uh, nothing. I just remembered the book he recently released. Have you read it?”

“Late Night Scribbles?”

“Yes, that!” he answered enthusiastically. Wow, I guess I found a fan right here. He might actually help me with my interview later. I need to grab this chance.

“Do you mind helping me? I’m actually going to interview him about it tomorrow.” I gave him the widest smile, hoping he’d say yes. I normally wouldn’t do this to strangers, especially at night. But I really just need to get this over with.

“Well, as someone who’s a fan of his works. I’d like to give it a try and interpret it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just imagine I’m Mark Lee. Shoot your questions.”

“Hmm, I can’t be answering personal questions since you’re not Mark Lee.” I scratch my head. Damn, I can’t think of anything. My brain is not working right now! “But if you were Mark Lee, what would you want to be asked?”

“If I were Mark Lee? Well, rather than asking what my inspiration was behind the works I’ve made, I’d rather be asked on how I tried to convey my thoughts and feelings to this piece of work,” he explained, staring at the night sky.

I followed the direction of his gaze, and he’s looking at Orion, one of the brightest constellations out there. I gaze at it too while waiting for him to continue explaining.

“But isn’t it basically the same as drawing inspiration from something?” I ask profoundly.

“Not really. You can draw inspiration from anything. And you can come up with different outputs based on one inspiration. What’s important is how you’re able to connect the context of what you’re writing to the feelings you want to draw out,” he continues.

“With a single inspiration, I can come up with two completely different works based on how it’s written. The idea may be the same but the context is not.”

“Hmm, care to explain a little further?” I ask politely.

“We can use Black Socks as an example.”

Black socks are underrated

The way they connect the bottom sleeves of

my black sweatpants to my black sneakers

is just perfect

Pleasure from perfect alignment

That also goes for the ability to be parallel

with my thoughts and actions

I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep

it consistent even when forgotten like a

working habit

A moment to think twice about what

seemed unimportant

Black socks have been making my day

these days and I knew I had to return the

favor by acknowledging them

I throw you in the bin only so that you can

be renewed again

“Black socks, literally an ordinary object that is tossed to the bin right after use. But what caught my eye is his appreciation for this mundane thing.”

“Through his words, you can tell black socks gave him comfort. He used a simple subject to convey his inner thoughts of how every little thing we don’t really recognize can actually be part of our routine, our life,” he said, looking me in the eye seriously.

“He found comfort in the most ordinary things no ordinary person would take notice of.”

Minhyung stands up and stretches his arms. He then continues, “It’s actually cool he shared this piece with us. If I were him, I’d go on and ramble how black socks could ruin my laundry.”

We both chuckle at the thought. It’s true. I hate how some of my black socks actually ruin my laundry. I dread the thought.

“It’s only a matter of perception, (y/n). Sometimes, you have to open your eyes and see, not look. Listen, not hear. Savor, not taste. Feel, not touch.”

“You know, you could actually be Mark Lee himself,” I tease him, “You do know your literature.”

I know he smiled at my remark. I can see his cheekbones rise from the edges of his mask.

“Sometimes, you just have to ask the right questions in order to get the answers you want,” he said teasingly. “You can’t get what you want if you don’t know what you want.”

For a stranger, he’s indeed a good talker. I actually learned so much from our talk tonight.

“Thanks for tonight, Minhyung. I really learned a lot.” I thank him before gulping down the last cup of coffee he bought me. “And thanks for the coffee, by the way! I now have energy to prepare for my interview later.”

“No problem. I’m just glad that I was able to help.”

I stood up from my seat and we both started walking away from the park.

“It’s 1 am. How are you gonna get home, (y/n)?” Minhyung asks worriedly. Yeah, it is pretty late. It’s a good thing I just live near.

“My apartment’s just two blocks away. I can manage,” I say with a smile, a genuine one at that. “How about you?”

“I’ll just grab a cab. Do you mind if I walk you home?” I don’t know why but I felt flustered for a moment. Surprisingly though, I just nodded my head, giving him permission to accompany me home.

We both arrive at the entrance of my apartment building and we say our last goodbyes.

“For a stranger, you really do know how to make people comfy,” I say, crossing my arms and giving him a stare, brows furrowed to tease him.

“Well, that’s just how I am,” he says while giving me a wink. Okay, now he’s flirting. Someone stop him, please. Just kidding.

“By the way, you haven’t taken your mask off the entire time except when drinking coffee. I couldn’t get a good glimpse at you since it was dark,” I explain. It’s true. Add the fact that I’m barely keeping myself awake the whole time. “I might’ve actually thought you’re an idol of some sort. Perhaps, maybe you are Mark Lee.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled and clearly taken aback. “Why’d you think so?”

“Because you share the same name with him.”