#yeah i already have a pretty basic outfit

[snicklesnek]

Silly Game Time: We're going to a Renaissance Faire! And I, with my infinite powers and infinite benevolence (so long as I'm kept amused), am supplying you with anything and everything you need to assemble your perfect costume for the event. The only restriction is that it must be vaguely "medieval Europe" (whether history-based or fantasy-based).

What are you dressing as?

Myself, I think I'll go as a Satyr who has disguised himself as a Benedictine monk (despite only having a vague notion of what Christianity is) in order to infiltrate a monastery for shenanigans, capers, antics, and maybe even some mischief.

Would it count for me to say that I want a full suit of combat ready armor, complete with great hounskull bascinet and employment with the Knights of Gore so I can participate in armored combat? I want to stab people. I have been training to stab people. Please let me stab people.

If not that's... fine... I guess I'll just take some things to touch up my pre-existing fit, like a nicer belt, belt pouch, a nice, hand crafted seax, etc. Or just money so I can scower the faire and find all of those things myself.

[yieldtotemptation]

ANIMALS ft. Natty

natty x male reader smut

10k words

“All I’m saying is,” Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don’t do much to fix it."

“And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation.”

“I don’t know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?” Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.

You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. “Noted.”

“Or, you know, if it’ll stop you from being such a little bitch,” and now she’s laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."

—

Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty’s incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you’re back on the phone with her.

Only this time, there's video.

So, yay.

"Help me, please."

It’s a Friday and Natty's begging, again.

Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you’ve long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty’s on-call ‘fixer’. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.

And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.

“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”

God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it’s your kryptonite.

"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty’s petulant requests usually go this one’s a walk in the park. “But don’t you have people for this sort of thing? People who don’t, and I quote, ‘have a dogshit taste in style?’”

“It is dogshit!” Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream—'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"

Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt—oh no, that's a leather skirt—in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she’s filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.

She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point—again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.

“You’re a man, and I need a man’s opinion because I’m hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know—help a girl out?”

“As always, you have quite a way with words.”

Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she’s built an entire career around doing just this.

“It’s my third language, asshole.”

The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you’re a little too distracted to take it. It’s entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.

Maybe she should consider going out just like this?

Yeah, that’d definitely get her fucked.

But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes—basically any time she’s not standing perfectly still. And even then.)

Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.

See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that’s been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:

You’ve watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.

While she’s been forced to witness every time you’ve met ‘the one’, only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you’re burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.

All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.

In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.

(Fucking liar.)

“Here, how about this.” Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that’s somehow made of even less material than the bra she’s already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"

You deadpan. “Does it come in adult sizes too?”

Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. “So just right, then.”

And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty’s bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you’re hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.

Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.

She slips on her chosen top for the evening—a tiny, strappy number—and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you’re looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.

You think.

“You know,” Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. “You should just come tonight.”

You’re saying, “Fuck no,” before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘Coming tonight’ means ‘clubbing’, and ‘clubbing’ means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.

So, yeah.

If ‘fuck no’s’ were bricks, you’d be building the Great Wall of ‘Fuck No’, big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant ‘Fuck No’.

And that’s your polite way of turning her down.

Yet somehow, Natty’s hardly deterred.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you’d be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"

You already have your second ‘fuck no’ queued up, but Natty just won’t stop fucking talking.

“Don’t you want to get laid? Don’t you think you need to have fun after what’s-her-name?” Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.

And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way—jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they’re about to pop out. It’s like she’s got a fucking manual.  

“Don’t tell me you’d rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?”

“You mean having to clean up after all your ‘hot friends’ and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?” You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.

“Said hot friends that you’re too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you,” Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you look at Julie."

You can feel your cheeks reddening. You’re not a teenager. You shouldn’t blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty’s words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.

Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she’s on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.

“Come, you pussy—”

“Natty—”

“Do it pussy—”

“Natty, if you think that’s going to work—”

“Pussy, pussy, pussy—”

You’re yelling down the phone: “Fuck, fine!”

Natty’s victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.  

You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you’ve never really been able to deny her:

Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you’re keeping count, is every single time).

She’s just so frustratingly adorable.

Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt—no, that’s another skirt—this one even tinier than the first.

“Oh, this is perfect,” she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?”

You swallow. “Like you’re going to get fucked tonight.”

The glint in Natty’s eyes. Like you’ve just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.

Natty winks. “Here’s to hoping.”

—

Guess what?

Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.

Only, you’re the sole person here that seems to think that.

Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you’re at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty’s little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.

You can’t blame him, really. It’s built in how she moves.

Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she’s not alone, she has friends—beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty’s the sun here, the star that everything orbits.

(You included).

You see it play out—the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.

But she’s a black hole, a dark star. Can’t get too close.

One by one, they’re swallowed up by the void of Natty’s disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.

And the whole time she’s doing this, she’s got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you’re okay with all this.

You inhale. Deeply.

Her outfit looks even tinier in person.

You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.

This fucking night.

But, when you look back, Natty’s no longer on the dancefloor.

She’s standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.

“Natty—”

But she’s not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—that you can’t see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty’s face? That’s not her usual I’m-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That’s something else entirely. That’s fear.

“Shut up, I need a favour,” she’s in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that’s rattling your ribcage.

You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you’re worried. You’ve never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.

You’ve also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her—

Fuck, you should be asking her what’s wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.

She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.

Natty’s nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. “Just pretend we’re together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just—just keep playing along, yeah?”

You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might’ve misheard. “What?”

“Be my boyfriend,” she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. “I need you. There’s some creep and I need you. Now, please?”

You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can—"

"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. “Focus on me.”

“Wait, why do I have to—”

“Oh, shit there he is—”

And then she’s kissing you.

Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she’s grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she’s really, really kissing you.

It’s a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you’re already forgetting what you’re doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty’s putting on the performance of a lifetime and you’re having trouble keeping up.

Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she’s pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her—sweet like candy and sharp like vodka—filling you all the way up.

Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she’s even convincing you—as if she’s the one that’s always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you’re the non-believer.

And it’s a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn’t what friends do—definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don’t dare to fuck it all up.

So you kiss her back, because that’s what you do for Natty.

You always do what she needs.

You’re about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you’re hers and she’s yours. But Natty’s already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, “Keep going,” the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you’re diving back into the kiss without a second thought.

And then you hear it.

A flash of a camera.

A cheer.

A whistle.

Julie, Haneul, Belle—Natty’s friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.

You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.

She giggles.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

"There is no creep, is there?"

Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks—what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?

"There could’ve been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck.  Oh sure, like she’s ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.

She’s far too smug for that.

You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that’s ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty’s the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."

“Maybe.” There’s a long pause. She’s staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. “But I had to do something.”

It takes a second. What?

What does that mean?

You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.

“Ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself for months now,” she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.

You know what she’s going to say—what she’s going to ask before she’s even opened her mouth. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing too.

So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty’s friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty’s hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?”

The blood’s rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.

Fucking embarrassing.

But Natty doesn’t crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.

“Because, Natty, we’re friends.” You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she’ll buy it.

But she shakes her head. “Oh, please. Like that’s ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?”

You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.

Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it’s resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you’re straining.

You gasp. She smirks.

“See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock’s practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone.”

She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can’t do anything but stay frozen still.

You’re letting her hand linger. You’re letting her touch you like she’s got every right in the world. You’re letting her because there’s a part of you—the part that’s growing by the second—that wants to see just how far she’ll take this.

“So, what is the real reason, ba-by?”

Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and you can’t just have casual sex with someone you’re in love with because it will ruin you.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you just tell her: “Timing.”

That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you’re coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.

Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.

“Well,” she says, and she’s pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

—

You’ve been here before.

Many, many times before.

You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you’re now unlocking with the digits that you coded.

But somehow, it feels like a first.

First time you’ve kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you’ve pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.

First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you’ve even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she’s won, again, and you can’t even bother to argue because you’ve lost to her so many times now that this shouldn’t be so surprising.

What is surprising though is how you’re naked first.

"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. “We’ll have to fix that.”

And then she’s moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You’re so obviously hard—you’ve barely made any effort to hide it from her—fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.

"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You’re really not messing around, are you? I was expecting—"

"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."

But Natty’s not laughing now.

She’s just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."

You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she’s going to say that, you’re going to kiss her, again and again, and there’s a strong possibility you're never going to stop.

She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time—not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it’s something sacred.

You’re not a saint. You can’t ignore that.

Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.

It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.

“This is going to ruin me, isn't it?” she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she’s stealing the air from your lungs. “Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it’s going to stretch me.”

You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.

Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.

“I can’t wait to ride this,” Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. “I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it’ll look like between my tits?”

And that makes your cock throb.

Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she’s all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.

You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.

Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her—not hard, but firmly—against the nearest wall.

You’re not gentle about it, because Natty doesn’t want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.

She’s told you as much.

"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"

So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don’t care much for her top anymore, it’s served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that’s kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.

“Better?” Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display—and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.

You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you’re going to. You’re going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You’re going to mark her like she’s already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you’re going to make them yours.

But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.

You laugh. Natty does too.

"Much better."

And with that, you’re back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don’t even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It’s a good place. It’s always a good place with Natty.

Her hand doesn��t stop moving, can’t, won’t. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.

A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple—she’s already so sensitive, just a flick and she’s gasping. You’re not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.

It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent—cinnamon and sweat and something else that’s just her.

“See this is why fucking me is such a great idea,” she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.

You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It’s a miracle you can still stand upright.

“Isn’t this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?” She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.

Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you’re digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She’s soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.

“We can just be fucking honest with each other,” Natty’s explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. “You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do.” And she smiles, wicked. “Never had the tits to give you.”

Christ.

“And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock,” Natty finishes. "We’re a perfect fucking match."

It’s at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.

You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.

So, take your time, drink her in—because the way she’s standing there, the way she’s touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, ‘Look all you want, but don’t you dare look away’.

Look at the arch of her neck, the red you’ve left there, that trail you’ve burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.

You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she’s going to finally let you.

Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.

That’s the plan, anyway.

But Natty’s got plans of her own.

“Didn’t you say,” Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you’re dying to recreate. She licks her lips. “That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?

"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. “And weren’t you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?”

Natty’s eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You’ve always been such a good listener."

—

Natty's plotting to ruin you.

It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now—on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.

You’d imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn’t have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty’s tits, every time.

You knew they were big.

You’ve felt them, on accident (though they don’t seem like accidents anymore).

But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you’ve ever wanted—it’s surreal.

You’re dying to paint them white.

“Looks like you’re already about to fall apart, baby,” she teases, and it’s even worse now that she’s calling you these sweet names, saying them like she’s always wanted to, like she’s finally letting herself. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“Fuck, Natty—” you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that’s all you can manage to do when Natty’s in control. Like she’s always been.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you’re watching, making sure you see the exact moment her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. “You must have been dreaming about this, huh?”

You don’t bother lying. She already knows the answer. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

Natty’s smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. “Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I’d have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?”

She moves; and the sight of it alone—Natty’s tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples—up and down, up and down. It’s merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.

"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."

The sounds she’s tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she’s barely even started.

“But we can do better, can’t we?”

Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She’s pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she’s pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.

“So big," she’s panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."

Everything’s going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she’s drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can’t take it, but Natty just keeps going.

"Fuck,” Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. “Let me just try and—”

She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.

Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you’re fucking her face.

She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she’s got you. You’re in her mouth and she’s loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you’re pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.

Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment—to Natty’s tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.

"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck—"

But Natty's just smiling, you’re fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she’s taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."

It’s utterly obscene—the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”

You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.

But she keeps talking.

Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, “None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?”

Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, “You’ve been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven’t you?”

Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, “I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice.”

She won't stop fucking talking.

You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"

But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."

Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.

But you don’t—instead, you fill it with your kiss.

It's deep, it’s bruising, it’s saying ‘fuck you’ in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a ‘fuck you’ right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin—not yet—but the promise is there.

Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don’t even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again—another sound that’s going to be your undoing—before you’re both stumbling back onto her bed.

The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.

She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide—seeing her pant like this, it’s not even fair. She’s just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you’re afraid to touch because you might smudge it.

You tell her as much.

She blinks. Blushes.

Grins.

“You,” Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, “are so fucking in love with me.”

You don’t argue because she’s right.

Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she’s got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.

Taking her sweet time, melting herself into you. Pressing her tits into your chest, making you feel her heart race against yours.

She whispers. Low, reverent. “God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.

“I’ve dreamt about this so much,” she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. “Your cock, fuck, it’s just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it’s all mine.”

And then she does it—she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty’s tight heat surrounds you. Like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure there’s been others but something about Natty’s cunt is so intense it’s almost painful.

“So tight,” you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they’re made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.

It’s a dance, a rhythm that’s been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She’s rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you’re going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.

“I knew you’d feel this good,” Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. “Fuck, I knew it—why did you keep this from me?”

You can’t answer, not really.

You’re too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she’s moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she’s so warm, so alive, that you can’t think of anything but how Natty’s finally letting you in. How she’s letting you make her whole.

But it’s too much. Natty’s cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it’s a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she’s whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, “Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me,” with every stroke.

She’s doing it on purpose, you’re sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."

Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn’t intentional. Like she doesn’t have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."

So, you do.

It takes more effort than you’ll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.

The squeal from her. It’s music.

How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.

“Yes!” She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she’s been waiting for this—for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. “Yes, yes, yes—”

You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"

Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.

“You want it rough, baby?”

“Yeah,” Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. “If you can.”

Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.

You grab her hair, yank it back so she’s staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.

You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.

She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you’re too strong, too desperate.

You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You’re fucking her like you’re trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her—how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.

But Natty won’t give you an answer, she just takes it all—every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that’s not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.

And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty’s licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, “You can do better.”

You don’t know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.

But first, there’s the problem of her ass.

“Let’s see about that,” you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It’s a masterpiece, a work of art, and you’ve always had a bit of an artist’s soul.

You do what comes naturally.

A spank against Natty’s ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.

Again—another slap, another yelp, louder, better.

You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it’s still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.

“Fuck yes,” Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. “I always knew you had it in you.”

You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It’s so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty’s apartment—each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.

But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.

“God, don’t fucking stop,” Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You’re using me so good.”

You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.

"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."

And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."

But you’re beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty’s cunt, Natty’s ass, Natty’s moans, and Natty’s grin that you’re aching to wipe off her face.

"Fucking hate me if you want," she’s saying, and she can’t seem to stop, "just don’t stop fucking—ah!”

You nearly stop when you realise you’ve finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really—the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.

It doesn’t stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty’s got some kind of death grip pussy, and she’s using it to fucking kill you.

You whisper in her ear, “You like that?”

Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.

And again.

Her cunt tightens. She’s close, so close. You can feel it.

“You like it when I use you, Natty?”

She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.

“Say it,” you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. “Say it.”

And Natty does, because she’s a good little whore, because she’s yours now. “Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it’s only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure—”

God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.

You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it’s a competition of what’s going to break first—the frame or her.

“This cunt. Your cunt. I’m going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want.”

But Natty catches you off guard, because that’s what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: “Whenever I want. You’re going to fucking move in with me.”

You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?

"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."

"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she’s the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.

"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it’s already been decided, like moments ago you didn’t have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."

This is real, you know that for sure. It’s not just something she’s saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she’s deadly serious and suddenly your mind’s racing.

"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"

She’s not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.

"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she’s already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night.”

You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.

And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate—"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."

It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.

You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it—the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty’s unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.

There’s nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you’re going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.

And she’s crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn’t you, isn’t your cock, isn’t the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.

“Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to—"

And then it happens.

Fucking destroys her.

It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you’re performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it’s only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.

"Oh my fucking god you—"

Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she’s squirting. Oh god, she’s squirting all over the fucking place.

Natty’s body goes rigid, her back arching so much it’s like she’s trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense—until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.

Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she’s saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.

It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says—"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."

And it’s your turn to be hit—like a fucking freight train.

You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you’re flooding Natty’s cunt.

It’s biological, in every cell of your body—like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.

Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.

She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it’s enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.

"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."

Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty’s just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.

"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, “So, so, perfect.”

You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She’s got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she’s won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.

For a second, you’re both just that—spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you’ve just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.

Then Natty’s got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she’s just been fucking you. And that’s it, the moment your body decides it’s had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.

You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she’s been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.

It feels fucking right.

"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.

You blink. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty’s deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."

You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.

But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen—it doesn’t feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.

"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.

Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."

"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.

And then she says it again.

"You’re so fucking in love with me."

Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you’re going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn’t sound like the worst thought in the world.

Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.

"Fuck you, Natty."

"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."

[luvsupa]

‘SHE’S BUSY.’

tags: roommate! choso x fem!reader, choso has a tongue piercing, smut, ōral (f. receiving), choso is needy at the end, mdni.

a/n: the way this was supposed to be a short hc… w.c: 1.2k

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated 💜

roommate!choso who is madly in love with you but never wants to tell you because he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you have.

roommate!choso who goes absolutely feral when he sees you dressing up to go on a… date?

“oh,” choso says, defeated, as you mention you’re going on a date with some guy you met through a mutual friend.

“do you think this is fine, cho’?” you ask, giving him a twirl of the dress that nicely hugs your figure. choso gulps at how stunning you look, feeling his heart beat faster.

“yeah, you look really good,” he says, continuing to eye you. oh, how he would treat you much better than that guy.

“i’ll show you the other dress- i can’t decide,” you say, returning to your room and shutting the door to switch between dresses.

roommate!choso who sits patiently in the living room, waiting to see your other outfit. should he make you show up late to the date or—

ding!

choso’s attention shifts to your phone that lit up twice. he wants to look so badly at the text but doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but—

ding!

choso looks around his surroundings as he picks up your phone to see the texts. he feels even more upset when he sees you saved the guy’s contact name as ‘j♡.’

‘ima call u’

just as choso finishes reading the message, you get an incoming call from him, and choso nearly panics. but he starts thinking about how badly he wants you to himself. he answers.

“hey beautiful, i—”

“sorry bro, she’s busy.” choso calmly says as he ends the call.

roommate!choso who knocks at your door as you’re still getting dressed to break the news to you, telling you that your date was spam calling to the point choso had to answer and said, “he canceled last minute.” you didn’t question choso because you knew you could trust him. little did you know…

roommate!choso who comforts you as you feel sad that he flaked on you. choso prepares a mini movie night, getting your favorite snacks and drinks while playing your all-time favorite movie. he makes sure you’re comfortable as he holds you tight in his arms on the couch as you lay on his chest.

“cho,” you say as he continues to rub your head, almost making you sleepy. he hums, “did you lie about him canceling?” you ask, feeling his heart beat quicken.

“yeah…” he says, not having any excuses as you giggle at his honesty.

“do you have feelings for me—”

“so fuckin’ bad,” he quickly answers as you both rise from your position, looking into his pretty brown eyes. at this point, the movie is just background noise as you two forget about it.

“do you want me?” you purr, and he nods rapidly, already getting up from the couch as he drops to his knees, parting your legs to make room for his broad figure.

you stare down at him as he pulls down your pajama shorts and panties, lifting your hips as he quickly throws them behind him. your legs are spread wide, resting on his shoulders, giving him full access.

choso moans as he sees your pretty cunt, giving your folds soft kisses. he’s about to lose his mind as his filthy dreams finally become reality.

you’re growing impatient as he’s basically teasing you, taking his time when you need him now. you tug at his silky hair, pulling it up to make him look at you. “cho—i need you,” you desperately say, and he feels himself grow hard at your neediness.

he doesn’t waste any more time as he dives into your cunt. your whole body jerks forward when you not only feel his tongue enter you but also the metal piercing on his tongue. the cold ball unexpectedly adds more stimulation, making you squirm as he snakes his arms around your thighs to keep you in place, growling into your cunt.

he brings one of his hands to your achy clit, rubbing tiny circles as you arch your back from the couch, moaning loudly from the double stimulation. it’s so fucking messy as choso loudly slurps your arousal, drool mixed with your juices coating his mouth and chin.

“f-fuck, cho, ’s too much,” you shakily say as he pulls away, arousal dripping from his chin as he looks up at you, his expression drunk on you. you unconsciously buck your hips closer to his face, wanting more as he chuckles darkly at your desperation.

he stares at your wet heat and slaps your cunt. your body jolts at the feeling as he repeatedly does it, hypnotized by the way your hole clenches at nothing. choso is starting to lose all sanity as your juices splatter all over his face and the couch. oh, how filthy this was.

“so fuckin’ good, baby, y-you’re so good,” he whines as he lays his tongue flat on your clit, your mind buzzing at the cold metallic ball. choso sucks hard on your clit, the piercing making you cry out in pleasure as it drives you to ecstasy. he slips two fingers deep into your pussy, knuckles deep as he curls them, thrusting in and out, loud squelches of your sloppy cunt echoing in your ears.

you’re already dumb from the intense simulation—the metal ball, his long fingers, his tongue. oh, how he loves your facial expression.

your legs begins to shake uncontrollably, feeling intense waves of your orgasm approaching rapidly as you shudder at the foreign feeling.

“‘m so c-close, cho,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as choso sucks harder at your clit. at this point, he doesn’t hear anything you say—he’s so caught up in his own head, only wanting to pleasure you, forgetting about his raging hard-on pulsating within his briefs.

your orgasm comes intensely as you feel yourself gushing arousal all over his face and the couch. your legs shake rapidly as you continuously spray his face. your vision is blurred as tears flood your eyes, crying out as your climax takes over you.

choso, on the other hand, kneels there, face covered in your cum, everything messy and lewd as his face and your cunt glisten in your arousal. fuckkkk, he thinks as he loses his mind.

“f-fuck, you’re a squirter,” choso moans as he watches your cum dribble down, leaving a pool of your mess soaking into the couch. “mmh, my pretty boy,” you manage to say as you bring a hand to pet his damp messy hair. but choso cannot seem to take his eyes off your sloppy cunt.

after a short tug, he finally looks up at you, quickly rising and smashing his lips onto yours, twirling his tongue around yours as you wrap your legs around his body, grinding his bulge against your bare cunt. you moan into his mouth at the friction, messily making out, tasting yourself on his tongue, your arousal from his face smothering onto yours.

“mhm, i-i’m your pretty boy,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you, his face hazy from eating you out. “c-call me your pretty boy again,” he whines, blushing at the thought of being yours.

“my pretty boy—”

you’re interrupted as you hear your phone loudly ring and vibrate beside you. you both groan at the caller id: ‘j♡.’

roommate!choso who sends ‘j♡’ a selfie of both your fucked-out expressions, followed by text,

‘i told u she was busy.’

[moonstruckme]

Pookie! I need you to write me something pretty please :)

Can you write Remus comforting a reader with an anxiety disorder when someone told them "there's nothing to be anxious about. You just want attention" ??? Pretty please?? Love you pookieeeeeee

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mean girl stuff, social anxiety

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 929 words

“Shh.” Remus holds you close to his chest, his hand moving up and down your arm now that your crying has slowed. “It’s okay. It’s just us, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you echo, croakily. You’re glad you can’t see your boyfriend’s face, for fear you’d die of embarrassment otherwise. The looming insecurity of your day stands over you like a grim reaper. 

You arrived home from a friend’s birthday dinner to find Remus sitting on the couch, already marking the page of his book as he turned to you with a soft smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart. How was it?” 

You replied, through a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through, “Not great.” 

The dinner had been an event of foreboding for you since your invite. You’d been determined to be a good friend by not bailing, but actually going had confirmed your worst fears; it was loud, crowded, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t fit with. Your outfit wasn’t right, the menu was daunting, and conversation swirled all around you about things you weren’t a part of. The fallout was basically inevitable. 

You perhaps waited too long to excuse yourself. You were sweating buckets and breathing around a lump by the time you did, whispering an explanation to your friend before locking yourself into a bathroom stall to talk yourself down. You’re sure she didn’t mean anything by telling the people sitting closest to her why you were gone—you don’t think she’d do it to gossip, and she’s never talked down to you about that sort of thing, at least not to your face—but by the time you returned one of her friends—a stranger to you, who’s name you can’t even remember—had formulated a fairly decisive opinion and dubbed you an attention seeker. 

You stayed only a little longer after that. Just long enough to avoid attracting more attention. And you worked yourself up well enough on the way home that all it took was one innocent question from Remus to send you crumpling into his arms. 

You’ve tried to steel yourself more than once, but any attempts at stoicism have been foiled by your boyfriend’s tender looks and whispered placations, which only make you cry harder. If you’re an attention seeker, Remus is your holy grail. Self loathing sits lodged in your throat like a stone. 

“Whose friend was it, again?” Remus asks, stroking your arm gently. 

You take a breath, trying to steady your voice. “Does it matter?” 

“I don’t mean it’s your friend’s fault, sweetheart,” Remus says. He’s all softness and patience, better than you could ever deserve. “I just thought you might talk to her, if you want to. She ought to know her friend is going around saying cruel things.” 

“She was there.” Your throat tightens at the memory. 

“Oh. Then I don’t suppose you need to say anything; I’m sure she’s already very upset for you.” 

You try to laugh, frustrated with yourself when it only seems to spur another wave of tears. “Rem. You’re biased.” 

“What?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised. “You don’t think she’s angry with that other girl?”

“She’s her friend.” 

“So are you.” His arms tighten around you protectively, chin bumping your head. “I may be biased, but the other girl was clearly in the wrong. There’s no excuse for the way she acted.” 

A dozen rebuttals fly about your head, but you keep your mouth shut. You don’t have the energy to argue. Unfortunately, Remus hears your argument in the silence anyway. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “no one puts themselves through what you do for attention. You don’t choose to feel that way.”

You hunch your back, tucking your head underneath his chin. “I do get attention for it, though.” 

“That doesn’t mean you want it.” 

“But I—”

“Do you want it?” You can’t see Remus, but you hear the hardened edge to his tone. “Did you like it, when that girl called attention to you in the middle of the dinner?” 

Your voice smalls. “No.” 

“Right.” The gentleness returns. Remus puts his lips to your head. “I know you didn’t, dovey. So don’t torment yourself, please. She doesn’t know anything about you.” 

You push your lips together. He lets you chew on your next words for a while, his thumb swiping softly back and forth over your upper arm, the sleeve of your top shifting slightly with the motion. 

“What if…” You gnaw the inside of your cheek. Remus waits. “What if everyone thinks that?” 

“Mm. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think most people would. Surely not anyone who knows you, or anyone worth being around.” He takes a breath, thinking. “You can’t always control what people think. I know you say I’m biased, but anyone who thinks something like that really isn’t worth thinking about at all. You’ve got enough going through that head of yours, yeah?” He kisses your hair fondly. 

“I guess so,” you admit. 

“Yeah,” Remus decides. He pulls away to see your face, pushing hair away from your tacky cheeks. “I’d say so.” 

You wonder if you look as horrendously in love as you feel. You think you must, because your boyfriend’s expression softens impossibly further as he turns his head to give you a proper kiss. You feel raw but comforted, and suddenly, totally exhausted. 

“Let the bullies worry about themselves.” Remus gives you a tender look. “I’ll worry about you.” 

You let a small smile tilt your lips. “And what am I left to worry about?” 

“Nothing,” he says solemnly. “Think you can manage that?” 

“Nope.” 

“Mm. Well, try.” 

[darqx]

If you didnt come to party [get the hell out of this club]

In which there's some links to old art - I've been getting a number of asks that are already technically answered so that's just what I'm gonna be doing if i can even remember what RAD they originally came from lol.

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

UNFORGIVEN.

Yes he can speak at least two demon languages (commons and a more specialised one).

Not really cos the ichor will eventually disappear if it's not in contact with Rire for a while lol. You ever wonder how someone could mysteriously drown whilst not being around anything they could have drowned in? Yeah.

I have drawn several such instances a long time ago. But it's not really Rire flirting with Ren it's more him being like...subtly condescending to Ren since Ren's submissive level is not very interesting to him |D

I...think you may have possibly mistaken me saying Rire might cry if he was in severe pain to mean that's the only time he could cry XD; To answer your q, yes Rire can cry from emotions - the point is he would choose not to (esp in public) as that would be a weakness.

🤔 You could probably get away with the same dress design but in black, tbh (if it was Lady Rire). Since the outfit design is 1930s/1940s based Rire's equivalent would be like...a 3 piece suit with a long overcoat/trench coat.

Got you covered bro [from a suit meme I did before]

Rire has a very long life span, but he's not immortal XD;

Tbh I don't really have thoughts about any of other peoples headcanons. Like I'm generally quite neutral towards headcanons because I primarily deal with the canon; the extent of my thoughts would be like "hm i wonder how they came up with that" lol.

This is actually in my FAQ :d but good of you to check for permission! If it's your own artwork then yes it is ok to make fanmerch of Rire. Similarly Gato allows fanmerch of her BTD and TPOF characs as long as it's your own art you are selling (and not like, our art/someone else's fanart that they didn't give permission to turn into merch).

It would be in Cain's best interest not to.

Cain is literally saying Olé Olé because i happened to be listening to this song at the time.

I can barely keep up with my ask box as myself let alone do it while pretending to be a charac lol, so no 😅 You can find a bunch of the most common qs in the FAQ pages though.

No and not really - though he is a bit more sensitive to light compared to a human as he has much better night vision than a human. He may also be able to see more colours than humans 🤔

There is technically no "stereotypical" demon in my 'verse, there's a bunch of different species each with their own looks/powers, so if he was another species then he'd have their physical characteristics. Rire's species is considered "plain" because outwardly they can pass more easily as a human than say; Izm's species (who have a really noticeable Glasgow smile-esque mouth as one of their physical features).

Yes he was born a demon...to his demon parents...|D;

He's the king of his sector and his sector is pretty well-to-do, I think you can draw your own conclusions from that lol.

Maybe, depends on what the human in question does with that.

Your second q has two answers depending on what context I answer them in, so I'll reply in the BTD context keeping in mind a charac like EP's Cain :d Basically yes Rire would be able to sense them like he does other demons. It's not a specific sense of "THIS CHARAC IS AN ANGEL" but more like "this charac is not human" and depending on what else he gets from it a "in your best interests to not engage".

Something big with long black fur and yellow eyes, maybe like a Norwegian Forest Cat or a Maine Coon.

[agaypanic]

Regina's Barbie (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You’re Regina George’s latest project, but her reasoning for fixing you up is completely different than what you think.

A/N: a little drabble based on this ask that i answered a couple days ago bc it keeps getting interaction and lowkey i cant stop thinking about the concept ugh

***

“Hold still.” Regina scolded for what felt like the hundredth time, hand holding your jaw firmly to keep you in place while she put blush on your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You whispered, looking at the wall behind her so you didn’t have to face her intense gaze.

When Regina approached you one day, twirling her perfect blonde hair around her finger as she asked you if you wanted to hang out, you thought it was a prank. It had to have been, because there was no other reason why Regina George would even consider getting close to a ‘nobody’ like you. But when you stuttered out a response, her grin seemed genuine when telling you to meet you at her car after school. Sure enough, she was sitting in her car with the rest of the Plastics, beckoning you to come over and sit in the seat behind her.

Gretchen and Karen seemed to be a bit confused by your presence but didn’t question Regina. They welcomed you, but didn’t go out of their way to make conversation with you while Regina drove to the mall.

When she parked, Regina basically pulled you into shops by the arm, her friends rushing behind you. She thrusted some sweater into your hands, telling you that you just had to try it on. And when you tried telling her you couldn’t afford it, she rolled her eyes, took a credit card out of her purse, and dragged you to a fitting room.

And now you were here, perched on Regina’s bed while she did your makeup. She had insisted that the way you did it was all wrong and that you needed to know the proper way to do it. Gretchen and Karen weren’t here, which surprised you a bit. But you knew better than to question Regina.

“Okay, now you need lipgloss,” Regina said, looking through some of the glosses she had bought you. She opened one and looked at you. “Pucker up.”

You gulped at the demand, but did as she said. Regina grabbed your jaw again, a bit more gently this time, as she swiped the wand over your lips. She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at your mouth.

“Perfect.” She muttered, capping the gloss and taking you to one of her many mirrors.

You hardly recognized yourself, but Regina definitely didn’t do a bad job. She smiled at you through the mirror.

“What do you think?” She asked, leaning her head against yours a bit.

“I look…” It was hard to find an end to your sentence with the way Regina looked at you, like you were a piece of meat. “Pretty.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” She fiddled with your hair, trying to put it in a style she thought would be more suitable. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We’re going to a party later, so we gotta find something for you to wear.”

“What?” You were a bit taken aback, not expecting to go to a party tonight. Especially with Regina. “Couldn’t I just wear this?”

Regina laughed, and it didn’t seem like that fake, almost mocking laugh she’d do when people tried to be funny with her. It sounded genuine, like she was actually amused by your question.

“No way, Y/n! Wait here, I think I have something you can wear.” She sped into her closet, leaving you to stand awkwardly in her room. Luckily, she came back quickly with a two-piece outfit. Regina went behind you, hands holding the clothes up to your body. “You’d look so good in this. Besides, it’s better than, like, anything you own.”

She kissed your cheek before sending you off to the bathroom to change. It was so quick that you barely registered what had happened until you were already switching your clothes for hers. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing a faint lip print on your cheekbone. You decided to leave it, not wanting Regina to get mad at you for messing up the makeup she spent practically forever putting on you.

When you left the bathroom, Regina was fixing up her lipstick in the mirror. She turned to you and smiled a bit, straightening up a bit.

“See, I told you you’d look good.” She took your clothes, throwing them on the bed, before noticing the mark she left on you. Regina stepped closer to see it better, soon looking at you with the same hungry look from before. “Keep that, it’s hot.” Then she walked away to change her shoes.

You took a deep breath. This was gonna be a long night.

***

Part 2

[redsugarx]

Hanfu in Components: General Garment Terms (pt1)

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Attempting to sort of reboot the hanfu in components thing I wrote for Newhanfu a while back in a better organized way, so I guess this is a series? Purpose is to provide a more systematic way for people to learn about hanfu terminology, which is extremely complicated and constantly changing, but has mostly settled into some agreed upon definitions among the hanfu community.

Note: This is probably going to make the most sense for people who have already been interested in hanfu for a little while but don't know the technical terms for what they're seeing in the pretty pictures. If you're just starting out this might be a little overwhelming, especially since hanfu vernacular has variations based on what time period you're talking about and stuff like that! But of course feel free to look at it anyway :>

Here are terms that you'll see a lot when referring to a general type of garment. These are the equivalents to 'shirt,' 'skirt,' 'pants' etc. in English, where it's telling you broadly what kind of a garment it is, but not really any details about its style or what it might look like. I will structure my definition headers as (traditional character)/(simplified character)/(pinyin)(tone) going forward. Also using images from Cloud9 as much as I can bc I don't wanna deal with citing image sources lol, shoutout to our models

WORDS ACTUALLY JUST MEANING "CLOTHING"

衣/衣/yi1 - General term for clothing. More often than not refers to a top/shirt or a robe, but can refer to clothing in general as well, especially in modern usage. The yi radical looks like this: "衤" Basically if a character has that symbol on the left, it’s probably related to clothing in some way.

服/服/fu2 - Also a general term for clothing. Slightly more formal/technical in tone imo. Usually combined with 衣 for 衣服 (more casual everyday way of saying clothing) or with 裝 for 服裝 (more formal way of saying clothing). Think the difference in tone between ‘clothes’ vs. ‘attire.’

TOPS (the clothing kind) & ROBES

衫/衫/shan1 - Shirt, unlined. Refers to a shirt/blouse in modern usage. Within hanfu, refers to a top (usually short, but sometimes long) that is unlined.

襖/袄/ao3 - Jacket/lined top. Refers to a parka-style jacket in modern usage (棉襖）. Within hanfu, refers to a top that is lined, typically on the thicker side. Can be long or short. More often than not it is worn as an outer layer.

袍/袍/pao2 - Robe. Refers to a top whose length extends past the knee. Usually robes are lined, but that’s not a requirement to be considered a robe. There is overlap with 衫/襖; aka a garment can be both a 袍 and a 衫 (long unlined robe) or a 袍 and an 襖 (lined robe), but not an 襖 and a 衫 (somehow lined and unlined at the same time, disobeys the laws of physics and logic, possibly quantum entity). 

深衣/深衣/shen1 yi1 - Literally ’deep clothing,’ also can be translated as robe, but more specific in that shenyi will typically be made up of a ‘top part’ and a ‘skirt part’ that are sewn together at the waist, rather than just being a really long top.

褙子/褙子/bei4 zi0 - Outer layer. Harder to define because it can refer to very different things depending on what dynasty you’re looking at. General rule though, it’s almost always an outer layer on a woman’s outfit.

BOTTOMS (the clothing kind)

裙/裙/qun2 - Skirt. Generally any garment that wraps around a person’s torso and covers the legs. 

褲/裤/ku4 - Pants/trousers. Similar to skirt except there are dedicated channels for each leg, aka there’s some separation happening at the crotch. Can be open or closed crotch, almost always worn under a skirt or robe.

Obviously there's a lot of other terms too but I'll get to them with time! Still a full time student, still learning about hanfu, blah blah blah. But yeah especially the more specific terms I will probably cover in a later post. Hope this is interesting enough for now :>

navigation: hanfu in components 1 2 3.1 3.2 4 5 ...

[heck-theo]

Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hiiii, can you please write something where both the hero and villain are extremely touch starved and they are in some forced proximity situation where they are close together and they both just cling to each other! I love your writing!

“…well?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” the villain mumbled, looking from left to right in the tiny supply closet, their back pressed against the shelf.

There was no room for movement, especially with someone like the hero right in front of them. They supposed there were downsides to being as fit as their nemesis.

“I didn’t expect us to get locked in…” The hero didn’t meet the villain’s eyes and the villain averted their eyes just as quickly. The villain didn’t want to think about it.

They didn’t want to think about the fact that they were chest to chest with their nemesis. That they basically couldn’t move in the slightest; not to the right, nor to the left. They couldn’t turn, they couldn’t switch positions - nothing.

The villain wasn’t claustrophobic and they didn’t think the hero was either. It wasn’t about the space per se, the villain assumed. It was about that one person, that one annoying person being this close. The villain took in a deep breath which pressed them even closer against the hero.

“Is this a prank?”

“Yeah, I guess. Someone must’ve seen us. Sidekicks can be a little mean. I just wanted to talk in private, I didn’t know it would be this…difficult in here.” The hero moved slightly - putting their hand on the shelf behind the villain - and the villain wanted to curse. “The door is definitely locked, I guess we’ll have to wait for now.”

They paused.

“So…uh…what exactly are you doing here?”

“I was asked to come here for negotiations,” the villain said. Their cheeks were burning. If the hero moved again like that, they’d both face a few problems within the next seconds.

“Oh, that explains the nice outfit,” the hero said. They could feel the hero’s warm breath on their neck. Christ.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” the villain asked suddenly. They couldn’t look at the hero and the hero wasn’t looking at them either.

At least they had undeniable awkwardness in common. How charming.

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the villain said. “We haven’t fought in a while.”

“Uh…We can start arguing if you want to..?” The hero moved again and the villain’s head started reeling when they realised how good the hero smelled. Had they ever been this close before? Close enough that the villain could notice that?

With the villain’s thigh basically between the hero’s thighs because of the space?

God, their hearts weren’t that much apart now, were they? What an awful thought.

“I’d like to avoid that, I just mean that I haven’t seen you around much. You’re not plotting my downfall, are you?”

“Unfortunately not, I’ve been busy in the office. Pretty tiring.” Yeah, right. As if someone as important and useful as the hero was being chained to a desk. A secret mission, maybe? “But negotiations, huh? You’re switching sides now?”

“Just some formal stuff,” the villain lied.

“Ah, cool.”

Both of them knew they were being lied to. And both were fully aware that the other was aware of it too. No escape. The villain feared they could only pray.

“I’m not avoiding you,” the hero said, whispered almost.

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know if it came across properly.” Came across properly? The villain took in a tiny breath. It would have been very easy to lean against the hero and start melting.

“It came across, don’t worry.” It would have been very easy to lean against the hero’s neck. To touch their waist. “For how long do sidekicks imprison other people?”

“Uh…like 30 minutes.”

“Dear God.”

They were freed 20 minutes later, but the villain was pretty sure they’d been closer to hell than heaven.

For the next few weeks neither the hero nor the villain could look each other in the eyes when they were supposed to be fighting.

[sterredem]

Big steps

Lando Norris x Royal!Reader

Face claim: girls on Pinterest + Taylor swift (for outfits)

Summary: meeting the royal family a big step for Lando, especially when they are your girlfriends familie… and the media is there too

Word count: 1987

Warning: hate?, not proofread

A/N: this is the fic for the results of the poll! I hope you like it. I chose England as the country because I thought it would be interesting with the whole akte Middleton thing. I do not know a lot about the real royal family but this is how i imagine it.

Also reader will be the oldest daughter of Princess Kate and prince William she will be 22 years old. I know this will not be logical with the time line of them being married and stuff but we will just ignore that.

Y/n knew that her life was different, she was the princess nonetheless. But she didn’t expect this.

She had always loved motor sports and when she got the chance to attend a race in her country she always did.

But still she didn’t see this coming. It all happened so fast. First them meeting, him not knowing who she was so making a fool out of himself. Then Agee that him figuring it out and still liking her for her. Not het status or fame, no just her. Then them continuing to talk for a while. And then a few months after him asking the big questions, her saying yes and the now.

Het introduceren het boyfriend Lando Norris to her family. And of course he had met them already. They where the royal family of England his home land after all. But still, this was different.

Because now he will be introduced as her boyfriend. And that was pretty big thing for him, he will first be meeting her parents and with the recent controversy surrounding princess Kate that will be a bit nerve wracking for him. But after that it will be a bit more relaxing and he will meet her siblings.

But he knew this would come eventually, he was dating the princess so he should meet the royal family eventually. And now that it had been a few months since him asking her it was about time for him to meet them.

So when Lando arrived at the gates of Adelaide Cottage and saw y/n standing there in her full beauty with her gorgeous yellow flower dress he knew he was in for a rollercoaster.

So after taking a deep breath he walked forward to his girlfriend to meet her family.

“Het Lan. You ready?” She asked with her charming smile and her kind voice.

“Yeah. Just a bit nervous.” He said with a small laugh trying to not make it awkward.

“Hey it’s going to be alright. They are going to love you and you are going to see that the royal family is not just a bunch of rich people that rule the country.” She said teasing him a bit with his Nieves but still keeping it light.

“Okay. I’m ready love.” He said now being a bit more relaxed with what the princess said.

“Okay. Come on I will show you around first and then you can meet my parents.” She said while grabbing his hand and gently tugging him towards the garden. “We should go around the garden first and then I will show you the inside, but there might be a chance we will run into my family so that’s why I will first show you the outside.”

“Okay that’s good” Lando said while walking after her. “Hey y/n…?” Lando asked now nervous again with what he wanted to ask.

“Yeah? What is going on love?” She asked wanting to know what her boyfriend was nervous about.

“Umm… have you’re family said anything about me?” He asked now a bit embarrassed about asking. But he wanted to know because they were her family after all. So if they already thought something about him then he wanted to know so that he knew how to make a good first impression.

“Well they asked about you yeah. And they asked the basic things and did a background check. But they think you are all good. They only know the basic facts and a few of the things I have told you.” She said smiling a bit while talking. Thinking it was cute with how he was so worried with how they will think about her.

But the princess knew that they would like the driver. They did to the search because you wouldn’t want the princess to date a serial killer. But they did it and he was all good. And with a few things she told them about. They seem to be excited about meeting him. But it is maybe not the best time with princess Kate recently being diagnosed with cancer and with the loads of controversy around the family. But now that it was all revealed it was about time for them to meet her boyfriend of 9 months.

She also knew that it was almost a year in there relationship and that he I shuts know meeting her family. But with them both being busy they just hadn’t hat the time.

“Okay that’s good.” The driver said now being relaxed again. But still having doubts in his mind.

After that they walked around the garden and talked a bit more.

When they were done outside they got to the entrance and she showed him the inside.

When she showed his most of the house, he only had a few more rooms to see. But she knew that her family would be in those rooms. So she stood still for a second to talk to him.

“Okay Lando. On that room will be my parents. Are you ready?” She asked a bit nervous for him. She knew that they would like- no even love him.

“I think I am. Just mentally prepared myself” he laughed a bit while saying the last bit. He was less nervous than when he arrived but it still isn’t fully gone.

“Hey it’s going to be fine. My parents are probably the most nerve wracking but when we meet my siblings it will be a lot better.

Lando thought about it and prepared a bit more. He took a few deep breaths and then looked up at his princess again. “Okay I’m ready”

“Okay, come on in.” She said with a smile squeezing his hand softly and leading him in to the room. She opens the door slowly after looking at him one last time.

“Hey, we are here” y/n said tugging Lando in the room with her and then closing the door. Her parents sat at the table at the room and when they saw them they stood up and walked to them.

“Hello Lando, it’s good to finally meet you.” Prince William said to Lando while shaking his head.

“Hello Lando it’s nice to finally meet you. We have heard a lot about you.” Princess Kate said with a smile on her face while shaking her head after her husband was done.

“Hello it is an honour to meet you.” he said with a shy smile after shaking the royal pair’s hands.

The youngest princess in the room smiled at her boyfriend and her parents. She was happy that they finally met.

After a bit of ice breaking with small talk they were all a lot more comfortable with each other.

After what seemed really short but was actually an hour Lando and y/n decided that they should meet her siblings. So they said goodbye to her parents and made a promise to meet again and then walked a bit further into the house to the next room with her siblings.

Lando was a lot less nervous to meet them. He met her parents and that was good so meeting Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis would also be alright.

Once they came to the room his girlfriend turned to him. “Okay this will be more relaxing. They know you and will probably first be a bit protective but then they will be more teasing. So nothing to worry about.” She said while smiling.

“Okay. I’m ready love” Lando said feeling relaxed with his girlfriend.

She opened the door and they walked in. Her siblings turned to her and immediately stood up. They walked towards the pair and inspected Lando immediately.

“So you are Lando? Y/n’a boyfriend?” Princess Charlotte asked.

George begin talking immediately after. “Wait are you the racing driver?” He asked getting a bit excited with that he and his sister both like Formula 1.

Lando didn’t even get to speak because Prine Louis began talking “so you are the man she can’t stop talking about” he said with a teasing smile.

Y/n was already beginning to get tired with them so interrupted them before they were going to overwhelm Lando with questions. “Okay guys stop with all that. Yes this is my boyfriend, Lando. Lando this is George, Charlotte and Louis. Guys this is Lando. And yes George he is the racing driver. And Louis don’t say that.”

“Hello everyone” Lando said already going in to his being with kids mode a bit.

After the first bit of the awkward conversation it all became better and y/n was right. They were now a lot more teasing instead of protective. But it was still fun.

And they asked a lot of questions. Like ‘what was it like with Lewis Hamilton?’ ‘Have you really not won a race?’ ‘What is it like being a F1 driver?’ And Lando was able to answer every one of them. And he enjoyed it a lot. He enjoyed hanging out with his girlfriend and her siblings. And enjoyed there questions and there small arguments and teasing bond.

After what again felt quite short but what was actually 2 hours they decided that it was a long enough day and said goodbye to her siblings. They again promised to meet again and now walked outside to the car.

“So what did you think?” y/n asked with a small smile thinking back with how good he was with her family.

“It was great. They are all very kind and it was better than expected.” Lando said while looking at his girlfriend. While talking they walked to the car (with of course a private driver).

Once they came to the car he opens the door for her and they stepped in. “That’s great!”

While talking they didn’t notice people taking pictures. And that was a bit of a problem, because while they are dating for quite a while. They have not yet announced it. They will eventually but they wanted to wait a bit and see where it was going. Even a lot of the drivers didn’t know that they were dating. The only people on the grid that knew was the McLaren team, his teammate and Carlos. All because McLaren needed to know so they could keep it private, Oscar knew because she was in the garage a few times (in secret) and so he had questions and then Lando explained. And Carlos knew because Lando and him are great friends so he just told him.

So if it came out that it was them then that would be problematic.

But because they didn’t know they didn’t really care. So they drove to her house and they spent the rest of the day together.

|—————————————————————————|

|—————————————————————————|

After the tweets Lando and y/n (together with their PR teams) decided that it was time for them to go public. So they took pictures, made a caption and posted it

|—————————————————————————|

Instagram

Lando Norris and the royal family

Liked by: GeorgeRussel, maxverstappen and 20.000.000 others

We are proud to announce that Princess Y/n and Mr.Norris are happily in a relationship and they are happy to finally show it to the world.

Comments are limited

Maxverstappen: Why do I only hear about this now?

GeorgeRussel: Lando Some explaining please?

CarlosSainz: I am happy to say that in knew all along!

Oscarpiastri: finally announcing it? Happy for you both! (I also already knew!)

McLaren: Happy for the (kind of) new couple! (Admin also already know!)

After finally announcing that they were dating Lando got a lot of messages from confused drivers. And the couple had a fun time laughing about it.

Lando explained it to them and when Y/n made her first paddock appearance at his home race as his girlfriend. Let’s just say it was a wild day.

But they knew they could live trough it. And with Lando now having met her family and her eventually having met his and the drivers they where very happy and knew that they where many to be.

|—————————————————————————|

Bonus:

A/N: This is a longer fix than the last. But I deeply like it! I hope you also like it! I really tried to make it as long as possible but still make it fun. I also personally really like the twitter ‘beef’ between user6 and user7. Let me know what you think! And please Like comment or reblog! I would love feedback

I am not really happy with how it turned out but I hope you enjoy it! Please tell me if I made an error or something!

[420days]

HALL OF FAME | JEY USO

Summary: An extremely shy Brianna accompanies her husband to Hall of Fame for the first time

Warnings: none

“Mommy looks so pretty!” Brianna’s youngest son, Jeyden gasped into the phone once the FaceTime call connected.

“Wow, she does! I like your new hair mommy.” His twin brother, Jeylen nodded his head in agreement.

“Thank you my sweet babies. Are you guys being good?” She asked and before they could respond her oldest child intervened.

“No they’re not! They’re here acting a fool. You wanna show mom and dad what you learned?” Jeyla nudged her five year old brother.

Jey peeked his head into the camera letting this kids know he was still very much in the room and present. His kids knew they had a little lead-way with Brianna but he wasn’t having it at all.

Jeylen giggled before shaking his head and and moving away from the camera.

“What’s he doing Yaya?” He called his oldest by her nickname.

“Sticking up his middle finger.” She spoke and Brianna’s mouth went agape.

“Oh yeah? Ima deal with him when I get home cause he knows better than that shit.”

“Mmhhh anyway, mommy let me see what you’re wearing because the makeup is eating.” Jeyla clapped her hands.

Standing up from the phone she stepped back just enough to show her daughter her full outfit. Her cherry red dress with a tail in the back that hugged hourglass figure. The pointed gold heels her daughter helped her pick out went perfectly with her dress and gave her a height boost showing off her toned legs.

“Period mommy! Look at the body! My mom is such a baddie!” Jeyla gassed up her mom as she took FaceTime photos. Jey listened to his daughter and couldn’t help but to laugh because she sounded just like him.

Although she was sixteen she knew her mom was shy but she couldn’t understand why. Her mom was beautiful inside and out and that was exactly why her and her father reminded her every chance they could.

“Thank you love. You and your dad want to make me cry tonight.” She glanced up at her husband who was already smiling down at her.

“I hear you gassing mom but where’s dad? Cause I know he got it on.” Brianna heard her son’s voice after a door closed.

“Dad looks handsome. I told him that.” Jeyla sucked her teeth as her brother took the phone from her.

“Son, ou know I do!” Jey said as Jeycon took the phone from his twin sister and began gassing his father.

Brianna laughed at the two of them before telling the kids they had to head out or else they would be late.

“Okay, I love you guys! Take a lot of pictures and send them to me.”

“We will, love you too!” The couple smiled at their kids before hanging up.

-

“Oooouuu sis! You finally came out the house! You look so beautiful.” Trin smiled as she walked over to her sister and brother in law.

“Thank you.” Brianna smiled shyly as she held onto her husbands hand. It was Hall of Fame night and Jey was able to convince her to come with him.

He knew his wife was extremely shy and didn’t like the media’s attention so she refrained from coming to a lot of the events.

However, his parents agreed to keep the kids so he basically begged his wife to come and spend the next couple days with him.

“She look good don’t she? I told her that earlier.” He tucked his lips and looked over his wife’s hourglass figure in her red dress. He was ready to say fuck the show and take her back to their hotel room.

“She really does. It’s giving very much slim thick and the boobies are sitting just right.” Trin smiled.

“Naturally at that.” Jey added making Brianna push his arm lightly.

“Babe stop.” She smiled as her butterscotch face turned cherry red. After all the years they’ve been together this man could still make her feel shy and have her blushing.

“Ima leave you alone.” He smiled knowing he was lowkey embarrassing her by he didn’t care. He loved showing his wife off and that’s what he planned to do tonight.

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

[huntfordaybreak]

love languages with skz 💕

part 1 - quality time

hyung line - maknae line

warnings: none! tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: the art markets in Montmartre and Hamdeok Beach are real places you can, in fact, go to. these entries end up bleeding into some of the other four languages as well of course, but such is the nature of love (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

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bang chan

The balmy summer air was not making it any easier to stop yourself from peering stealthily at Chan in the driver’s seat of your rental convertible, wearing a casual outfit of a half-buttoned linen shirt and swimming trunks. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the music playing from the speakers as the car slowly moved up to the north side of Jeju Island.

You had made plans a long time ago to spend a weekend away together, and given Chan’s love for the ocean, you had agreed to go for a beach trip. So you found yourself parking right by Hamdeok Beach, which was proving to meet your (high) expectations – clear water, blue skies, small waves brushing up against the shore. It was stunning.

Before you had taken it all in properly, Chan had already set up a parasol and was currently fighting to put down a large beach towel against the wind. You rushed over to help him with the towel and looked for your phone to take some pictures.

After a few obligatory landscape photos, Chan came up behind you and offered to take some of you (“to send to your mom, she kept saying the other week you aren’t getting enough sun”). He was grinning behind the phone camera as you posed in a flowy sundress, squinting slightly in the bright light.

“Looking great, angel,” he called, and you walked back to him, your flip flops digging up the fine sand with each step.

“Don’t you want to take some with your phone as well?,” you asked, smiling at the photos Chan had taken. He was a pretty gifted photographer, but the scenery was definitely adding to the pictures.

“I’m alright, I don’t have my phone on me, actually,” he said, already digging for sunscreen in your bag.

You frowned, surprised. Chan was usually the first to admit he was a workaholic and it was pretty rare for him to be anywhere without his phone, if not an entire travel-friendly recording setup. “Really? You left it at home? What if there’s an --”

“I’ve left Changbin and the staff with very clear instructions that I won’t be reachable for any reason this weekend,” he interrupted you lightly, sunscreen now in hand. “They can handle it.”

You joined him underneath the parasol, feeling rather touched. “And you’re fine with that?” you asked softly. “I mean, I really appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel restless or uncomfortable or something while we’re here.”

He seated himself a little closer to you, shaking his head, though there was no heat behind it. “Please, (Y/N), I’m more than fine with it. I’m very thankful to have this time with you and want to enjoy it as much as I can before we go back on Sunday,” he said, gently pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Now, let’s get some sun protection on that cute face of yours before we both burn to a crisp.”

lee know

“Yes, by end of day, please. Yeah. Yes, thank you.”

You sighed, hanging up the call.

Today was not your day.

You had gotten a run in your tights on your way to work basically as soon as you stepped out of the subway, spent all morning in back-to-back meetings that should have been emails, and had been forced to skip your lunch break to rectify a mistake a coworker had made in a report you were signing off on. And now, you had found out right before you were about to head home that you were missing signatures on an important budget proposal.

Normally you wouldn’t really mind too much, but you wanted to leave early today since you were supposed to meet up with Minho right after work. You anxiously eyed the clock as you waited for the necessary emails to come in.

By the time you wrapped up for the day, you had already sent an apologetic running-late-text to Minho and scored another run in your tights as you speed-walked through the subway station.

As soon as you walked into the hallway of your apartment building, you heard music playing faintly – it seemed like it was coming from behind your door. You were supposed to meet up at Minho’s place and go out for dinner, but you figured you had enough time to at least touch up your makeup and find some new tights to wear. Maybe he had gotten impatient in the extra time you had taken.

You unlocked the door and stopped in your tracks. Not only were you right – Minho was standing in the kitchen, back turned towards you – but he had probably arrived at your apartment before you had even sent your last text. He was in the middle of stirring a pot, a cutting board with chopped green onions beside him. The smell of seafood stew was immediate and comforting.

“Minho, you’re here? I thought you wanted to go out?” you asked, kicking off your heels and leaning over to him by the stove, kissing him on the cheek.

He turned to kiss you properly, murmuring a greeting, and raised an eyebrow at you. “I figured you probably weren’t feeling up for heading out again when you told me earlier about the day you were having. So I thought we would do dinner here instead.”

Your heart ached with affection, not only at the thoughtfulness, but also at the familiarity he showed with your living space – he knew where you kept your vegetable peeler, where the clean dish towels were. “You know me too well, you know.”

He smirked. “It’s part of my job description. Go get changed, dinner’s almost ready.”

Soon enough, you were sitting at your dinner table in sweatpants, one leg tucked under your body as you took a careful bite of the piping hot stew. You let out an appreciative noise; Minho knew exactly how spicy you liked your food.

With him sitting across from you barefaced in a T-shirt, you knew then that no restaurant could really come close to replicating this feeling of home.

changbin

People would have to pay you a considerable amount of money to go the gym with Changbin. You didn’t hate working out, and you certainly didn’t hate spending time with your boyfriend. However, as you explained to him, it was healthy and more sustainable for couples to do some activities separately, and you were happy to try out the odd group class on your own from time to time. It was also, as you muttered, really hard to stay focused on your own exercises when Changbin was working out within your immediate vicinity while wearing a compression shirt. This explanation usually satisfied him, you found, a wicked little smile appearing on his face.

One part of his routine that you would more readily agree to was visiting a sauna afterwards. Changbin usually made a wise comment about the importance of recovery here, but you did not need much convincing to get a massage or soak in a near-boiling pool for a while.

Today was one of those days; Changbin had picked you up from work and you had gone to a spa you both liked together. You were happily submerging yourself in the hot water, steam rising in the darkening sky. Changbin also sank in the water next to you, squeaking at the difference in temperature from the cool outside air.

“How was your day, baby?,” you asked, sidling up to him.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “Good. Busy, though. Didn’t have time to text you,” he said, pouting.

You laughed and splashed some water on him. “Don’t be stupid. I won’t wilt like a dying flower without it. I’m happy to see you now,” you smiled.

Some of the cloudiness remained in his face, and you moved to gently push at the tense muscles in his shoulders. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t have time for you. Like you’re not as important as other parts of my life,” he said quietly.

You moved away from the seating edge of the pool and got in front of him, both of you up to your shoulders in the water.

Looking at him more seriously now, you said: “Bin, if I do somehow ever end up feeling like that, I will tell you. I trust you to do the same. I think you’re being too hard on yourself right now.”

A smile came back to Changbin’s face as he pulled you back to him, back to his firm chest. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he muttered. “And thank you for coming here with me.”

“You say that like it’s a sacrifice on my end,” you shot back.

He laughed, and you felt it reverberate in you against your back, a sound of not just amusement, but real tenderness.

hyunjin

Sometimes, you weren't sure how this had ended up being your life.

You were waiting for Hyunjin to finish up in the enormous bathroom in your suite at the Relais Christine, it being your final day in Paris to accompany him to a Cartier shoot on location. Although the trip had been amazing – great food, the weather had been cold but sunny, you’d convinced Hyunjin to ask the brand reps for an extra set of PR goodies for you to steal – you were both tired, worn out from the packed schedule.

Today was your last day in Paris, though; you were catching a flight so early tomorrow morning that it should be illegal. You had been racking your brain for something to do together, a museum he had not been to yet, a gallery that he wouldn’t already know. Would he think it’s corny to go on one of those boat tours?

You shook your head to yourself, starting to pack a few essentials to take on your outing. Before long, Hyunjin emerged from the bathroom, free of make-up but looking as statuesque as he had during the shoot, and he seemed excited for a last outing. “You ready for a last hurrah, baby?” he said, grinning widely.

It was a nice day to be out, at least, you thought as you walked to Montmartre together. It was incredibly busy, and you stuck close to Hyunjin, his face half-covered by a (hilariously) large pair of sunglasses and hair unstyled. He was nothing if not used to navigating crowds, though, and he easily weaved through the throngs of tourists to grab sandwiches that you split, sitting on a bench covered in stickers.

Finally, something caught your eye as you looped back around to the main square: a side of the street full of stalls displaying artworks, mostly paintings.

“Hyunjin, look,” you tugged on his sleeve, “there’s the artist market that they were talking about in the guidebook!”

His eyes shone with interest as you got closer, even though your head was spinning slightly from the sheer variety of art to look at. From soft watercolors of flowers to realistic portraits of elderly people in a park or abstract prints, there was no shortage of things you could see yourself putting up in your apartment.

Suddenly, the gears in your head started turning. “Hyunjin, wait, I wanna split up.”

He wheeled around abruptly. “God, (Y/N), please don’t scare me like that,” he whined, clutching at his chest dramatically.

Suppressing a laugh, you continued: “How about we each start at one end and pick out one painting for each other? We’ve been looking for something to put in the hallway by the bathroom for ages.”

Hyunjin smiled. “What’s the budget?”

“How about 25 euros each, Mr. Cartier,” you rolled your eyes affectionately, squeezing his hand.

He squeezed yours in return and practically ran off to the opposite end of the market.

---

A month later, a watercolor of apple blossoms and a tiny ink drawing of the Seine in the morning sun hung proudly in your hallway, with a slightly blurry Polaroid of the two of you in front of the Sacre Coeur taped to the frame.

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@ huntfordaybreak - do not repost.

if you are interested in being on a taglist for the other installations of this series, feel free to let me know!

[authortelevision]

arthur frederick and the new producer: the end₊˚⊹♡

words: 7, 504✦ .ᐟ

♯┆arthurtv slow burn, bach and arthur podcast

after lara leaves bach and arthur’s podcast, you become her replacement. after discovering that arthur hates change, it takes a lot for him to warm up to you and become friends. it also takes a lot for him to admit how he truly feels about you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Chapter Nine

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Chapter Ten ₊˚⊹♡

You and Isaac sat across from each other at the table in the studio, cards in hand, as you both played a game of Uno. Arthur, sitting off to the side, was eating his lunch, looking mildly amused but mostly preoccupied with his food.

“Why did you even bring this here?” you asked Isaac as you placed a card down with a satisfying slap.

Isaac shrugged, not looking up from the game. “I don’t know, just in case Arthur gets too boring so we can actually have fun.”

Arthur, his mouth full of food, glared over at him. “Hey, I heard that,” he muttered, but his words were muffled by a piece of bread.

Isaac smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Ew, Arthur, please stop spitting your food out when you talk,” he said, scrunching up his face in disgust.

Arthur, still chewing, rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn’t bother responding, choosing to focus on finishing his lunch instead.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you drew another card. “I think you just got roasted, Arthur,” you teased, watching him shake his head in mock exasperation as he continued eating, clearly trying not to laugh.

You and Isaac resumed the game, the sound of cards shuffling and playful bickering filling the air, while Arthur, despite his grumbling, seemed oddly content in his corner.

“So,” he began, casually tossing down another card, “you wanna come out with us tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, tapping your cards against the table as you considered the offer. “Who’s going?” you asked, already wondering if you’d even be up for it.

Isaac shrugged nonchalantly. “You know, like George, Arthur Hill, Chris… the usual people who would go out.”

You hesitated, unsure. “Oh, I don’t think they’d want me there.”

Isaac immediately rolled his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, grinning. “Arthur literally talks about you non-stop when he’s drunk. You’re basically there every night.”

You loved that part of Arthur, the part of him that made him so special to you. He was just so passionate about everything, and it extra special that he was so passionate about you. Regardless of how you felt about Arthur, Isaac’s words echoed in your mind as you tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but feel a little caught off guard by his honesty. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Arthur, who had been finishing his lunch nearby, suddenly looked up and chimed in.

“Yeah, I mean, I do talk about you. But not as much as he’s making out to be. Any ways, you should come out. It’s fun when you’re with us.”

You looked at him suspiciously, feeling face heat up, but didn’t know what to say. Arthur’s new casual confidence left you speechless for a moment, but Isaac was quick to add, “See? Told you. You’re practically one of us already.”

You bit your lip, looking between them both. “Okay, okay,” you relented with a smile. “I’ll come. But no promises, I might bail early.”

Isaac laughed, clearly satisfied with the result. “You’ll have fun. Trust me.”

————————————

You stood in front of the mirror, finishing off your makeup and double-checking your outfit when Emma suddenly popped her head into your room with a big smile on her face.

“You look so pretty,” she said, her voice genuine as she leaned against the doorframe.

You gave her a funny look, rolling your eyes. “I literally have a boyfriend, you know.”

Emma laughed and walked further into the room, her eyes sparkling. “I know, and I’m so happy for you! Honestly, it’s been so nice seeing you so happy lately.”

You grinned, feeling a little shy at her enthusiasm. “No need to get all sentimental on me.”

She shrugged, a soft smile on her face. “I’m just glad he makes you happy. I was worried for a while, you know, with everything that happened before. But he’s really grown on me. He seems like a good guy.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at how supportive she was. “You actually like him?”

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I do. He’s a little… annoying sometimes, but I can tell he really cares about you. You deserve that.”

Your heart warmed at her words. “Thanks, Em. That really means a lot to me.”

She gave you a wink. “Of course. Just don’t forget about your old flatmate when you’re busy being all in love with him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I won’t. Promise.”

You grabbed your jacket and headed for the door, feeling the familiar rush of excitement to see Arthur. As you stepped out of your room, you found Emma now lounging on the sofa, scrolling through her phone.

Before you could leave, you walked over to her, giving her a tight hug. “I really love you, you know,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter. “More than anyone in the world.”

Emma looked up, surprised by your sudden sentiment. She grinned and pulled you in tighter. “Even Arthur?”

You pulled back slightly, giving her a playful look. “Way more than Arthur,” you teased, “You’re my best friend.”

She chuckled, clearly pleased by your words. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said, ruffling your hair. “Go have fun with your boy. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

You smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. “I will, and I’ll see you later.”

With that, you turned and left, closing the door behind you. As you stepped out into the cool air, you spotted Arthur waiting for you, a smile breaking across your face when you saw him.

Everything felt right in that moment, and you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have both Emma and Arthur in your life.

You walked up to Arthur, and as soon as he saw you, his face lit up. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth wrapping around you. You breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, feeling at peace in his arms.

As he pulled away slightly, he whispered softly in your ear, “You look gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the compliment making your heart skip a beat. A smile spread across your face as you looked up at him.

Turning around, you waved at Emma, who was standing at the door, watching the two of you. She gave you a little wave in return, a content smile on her face.

Arthur followed your gaze, noticing her too, and gave her a casual wave as well. “See you later, Emma!” he called out.

She shot him a playful wink. “Have fun, you two!” she teased, before disappearing back inside.

You smiled to yourself, turning back to Arthur. “Ready to go?” you asked, your hand slipping into his.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his smile only growing as he walked alongside you.

Everything felt right, and the world felt a little more complete with Arthur by your side.

You walked into the bar with Arthur by your side, the bright glow of the warm lights and the buzz of conversations making the atmosphere feel welcoming. As soon as the guys saw you, they greeted you with smiles, and you couldn’t help but feel like it wouldn’t be as bad as you originally thought.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you!” George said first, pulling you into a hug. He was always friendly, and his bear hug made you feel safer.

“I didn’t know you were coming out tonight!” Chris spoke, wrapping you in another hug. “Glad you made it.”

Arthur stood back for a moment, watching with a small smile as the guys showered you with affection. It was clear that they were all happy to see you.

“I didn’t know you were the popular one,” he teased, nudging you playfully.

You smirked at him. “I’m just that good,” you replied, winking.

Isaac, always with a quick joke, grinned at you. “She’s the life of the party now, obviously,” he said. “But, alright, let’s get drinks, yeah?”

They all made their way to the bar, chatting as they ordered drinks for the table. Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing, “You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger, huh?”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “It’s not my fault they’re all this nice,” you said, glancing over at the group.

As the drinks arrived, you all made your way back to the table. Laughter and conversation filled the space, and for the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease surrounded by Arthur’s friends.

As you continued the night, you moved to a different location. The club was filled with energy, the music louder as the night wore on. Drinks kept pouring, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits, especially the boys. They were all getting progressively more drunk, their faces flushed with the warmth of alcohol.

Arthur, George, and Chris were joking around, playfully pushing each other, while Isaac sat beside you at the table, leaning back in his chair. He had that relaxed, stupid grin on his face, a little tipsy but still confident with his words.

You looked around, smiling at how affectionate everyone had gotten as the drinks took hold. Arthur wrapped an arm around George’s shoulders as they laughed at some joke, and Chris was constantly giving Arthur playful shoves, all in good fun. It was clear that their relationship was strong, the kind of friendship where physical affection came naturally, but in a totally loving, fun way.

“Hey,” you turned to Isaac, who was busy swirling his drink around. You leaned in a little, wanting to make sure he could hear you over the chatter. “Thank you for inviting me. It really means a lot.”

Isaac looked at you, his face softening as he gave a small nod. “Of course, I’m really glad you came,” he said with a smile. “Plus, you deserve to have some fun, too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “It’s nice being here, seeing Arthur so happy.”

He gave you a kind look, raising an eyebrow. “Well, Arthur seems very happy with you, but you might have to fight for his love” he said, gesturing to where Arthur was laughing hysterically at something Chris had said.

You chuckled, glancing at Arthur who was now leaning into George as if they were some kind of drunken conjoined twins. “Yeah,” you said with a grin. “I think I’ll just let Chris have him”

Isaac took a sip of his drink, a small glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice a bit. “Just so you know, Arthur’s been telling Chris all night that he thinks he loves you,” he said. “Said he’s pretty lucky to have you in his life.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. But before you could reply, Chris stumbled over and threw himself dramatically across the table, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he slurred, “This night is amazing, right? I love you guys. You’re all my best friends.”

You laughed, your cheeks warm as Chris smothered you in a hug. “I love you too, Chris,” you said, patting him on the back. It was impossible not to be affected by the overwhelming sense of affection in the air. It was lighthearted, fun, and easy, and you were happy to be a part of it all. You were just so happy to be a part of Arthur’s life like this.

Isaac watched the exchange, shaking his head with a grin. “See?” he said, taking another drink. “That’s what I’m talking about. That man is full of love you gotta hold your boy close to chest.”

You grinned back at him, feeling comfortable in the chaos of the evening. “Yeah, you’re right, I gotta look after my boy.”

As the night went on, the jokes and affection only grew, everyone getting more carefree and silly. But in that moment, as you sat next to Isaac and watched your friends laugh and joke, you felt a deep sense of belonging. You were glad you were there.

Arthur and Chris were in their own little world, joking around across the table. Chris had his arm draped over Arthur’s shoulder, laughing at some ridiculous story, and Arthur was trying to play it cool, though his sappy smile gave away how much he was enjoying it.

Out of nowhere, Chris reached over, giving Arthur a playful smack on the ass. The sound echoed slightly, and Arthur jumped, wide-eyed. He shot Chris a glare, his hands going up in defense.

“Stop! I’m literally married!” Arthur exclaimed, laughing, his voice full of exaggerated outrage. “What’s wrong with you, man?”

Chris just cackled, shaking his head. “What, it’s just a little love tap! Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair, glancing at the two of them with a grin. “Chris, you can keep him,” you said.

Arthur dramatically put his hand to his forehead, playing up the melodrama. “Well, guess that’s it for me then,” he said, feigning heartbreak. “I’m being traded off. Someone call my wife.”

Chris raised his glass in victory. “Sorry, Arthur, but I think I’ve got a new favorite.”

You chuckled, watching them laugh back and forth. It was all in good fun, and seeing them so carefree made the night even more enjoyable.

The walk home felt a little surreal, the city streets dim and quiet around you as the adrenaline of the night began to wear off. You’d sobered up enough to feel grounded again, but Arthur, still a little drunk, was stumbling beside you, his steps unsteady but his energy still infectious.

He kept leaning in, pressing soft, playful kisses to your cheek and temple, laughing lightly each time. Every few steps, he’d kiss you again, this time lingering just a bit longer than the last.

“Arthur, stop,” you laughed, trying to push him away gently as you nearly lost your balance from his affection. “You’re gonna trip us both up if you keep doing that.”

He grinned, unbothered by your protest, and leaned in for another kiss, this time targeting your forehead. “I can’t help it,” he said with a little giggle. “You’re just too lovely to resist.”

You half-stumbled as you tried to step around him, giving him a playful shove. “Seriously, I’m not going to be able to walk properly if you keep this up,” you warned, laughing despite yourself.

Arthur just wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you, pulling you closer as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “I’m helping,” he said, his voice full of that familiar drunken sweetness. He leaned down to plant another quick kiss on your lips, this one too brief for your liking but just enough to make your heart race a little.

“Arthur!” You giggled, unable to hide your smile. “You’re so annoying, oh my god!”

He pulled back, still grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “I know, I know,” he said, his voice slightly slurring but his affection completely clear. “But you like it.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, but the warmth spreading through your chest told you everything you needed to know.

As you finally made it to Arthur’s flat, the warmth of his embrace and his kisses didn’t let up. He was still kissing you, his lips persistent against yours, but he quickly started to shift down to your neck. The sensation of his soft lips trailing along your skin melted your thoughts away.

“Arthur…” you murmured, feeling your blood burning through your veins as he left little marks on your neck. “Can you at least take your clothes off?”

You meant it as a joke, trying to redirect his attention to something more practical, like getting into his pyjamas, but Arthur just chuckled against your skin, the vibration of his breath raising the hairs on your collarbone. “Oh, you are such a flirt,” he teased, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile, even as he leaned in and kissed you again, more passionately this time, helping you out of your jacket. You tried to take control of the situation, urging him, “Arthur, seriously, get in your pyjamas first—”

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he kissed you on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and the reaction was immediate. You let out a soft whimper, not quite able to hide the effect it had on you.

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, his voice low, the playful teasing from before replaced with a deeper, more intense tone. He didn’t sound sorry at all though.

You exhaled sharply, feeling incredibly turned on. “God, Arthur… please…” you whispered, trying to gather your thoughts but not wanting to pull away to finally get the change of clothes you’d both been talking about. But Arthur only held you closer, his lips hovering at your ear as he whispered, “Please what darling?”

It was impossible to argue with that. You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed the closeness. The strong smell of his deodorant wearing away through the night and being replaced by the scent of Arthur’s desperation made your heart pound in your chest in ways you couldn’t explain.

Arthur’s lips were addictive as they moved from your neck to your jaw, his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom. He kissed you deeply, one hand resting on your waist while the other cupped your face, as if trying to keep you close, not letting you get away.

You stumbled a little, distracted by the feeling of his lips trailing against yours, but he kept you steady, leading you forward with a powerful intensity in every touch. You didn’t say anything, but your heart was racing, each kiss leaving behind warm imprints of his love for you.

He kissed your lips again, and again, moving you gently backward, step by step, until your knees bumped into the edge of the bed. Arthur paused, looking down at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, as if savouring every second.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice hushed, as if the moment was suddenly too real for both of you.

You nodded, too consumed by the intensity of the moment to form any more words. Without waiting for an answer, Arthur kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, and with an almost ungodly touch. His hands brushed over your skin, drawing you into him as he pressed you down onto the bed.

As his lips moved from yours to your neck again, his hands slowly started to explore, pulling your shirt off as his kisses followed the line of your collarbone. The room felt like it was spinning, your mind was consumed by Arthur, every touch, every kiss, every low moan. You tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling each lock pass through them with every kiss.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, “I want this,” he whispered, as if confirming it to himself as much as to you.

You simply smiled, tugging him back down toward you, letting his lips claim yours once more, unable to deny how much you wanted him too.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Arthur whispered, his voice like a confession meant only for you. His gaze fixated on your lips, slightly parted, your brows furrowing under the weight of his admiration. For a moment, he simply stared, as if committing every detail to memory, his breath falling from his lips in ragged, uneven pants. His eyes, a deep chocolate brown, glimmered with something so utterly consuming.

Arthur’s hands brushed over your skin with a heavenly tenderness. The contrast of his hot fingertips against the cold softness of your skin sent shivers dancing along your spine. Starting at your shoulders, his fingers pressed gently into your muscles, kneading away tension as though his sole purpose was to unravel you. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, and Arthur’s lips quirked into the faintest smile, as though your contentment was his greatest reward.

Each movement of his was deliberate and filled with adoration. His hands skimmed lower, following the curve of your arms and trailing back up to cradle the base of your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured roughly. His breath was hot against the curve of your neck as he leaned closer, and the world seemed to fall away, leaving only him. “Wanting to feel your soft skin against mine, to lose myself in you.”

His lips grazed the shell of your ear leaving you breathless. Your back arched instinctively, your body answering his touch without thought, a silent invitation for him to go deeper, to explore further. His hands followed, tracing the curve of your back with a languid, unhurried intensity that left your heart pounding.

Arthur’s lips brushed against your jaw, a whisper of a kiss that lingered as though savoring the taste of you. “Every inch of you,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion, “I want to know it all. Every curve, every breath, every moment of you.”

His words wrapped around you like a spell, and his hands, now bolder, continued their journey down. He kissed his way down your neck, peppering soft kisses along your collarbone. His beard tickled your skin, a delightful sensation that made you giggle softly. Arthur's hands glided down your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your breasts, causing you to catch your breath. He took his time, savouring every moment, as if it were a delicious meal to be enjoyed slowly.

Arthur unhooked your bra, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He admired them, his eyes darkening, the chocolate becoming lovingly bitter. "So beautiful," he whispered. He leaned down, his warm breath caressing your nipples, causing them to harden in anticipation.

His lips found one sensitive nipple, sucking gently. You moaned, grabbing fist fulls of his hair. Arthur's tongue was so slow and teasing, bestowing upon you a symphony of sensations. He lavished attention on one breast before moving to the other, ensuring that both received equal adoration.

As he worshipped your breasts, his hands roamed freely, exploring your curves. He traced the outline of your waist, the dip of your hips, and the softness of your thighs.

Arthur's fingers unbuttoned your jeans, his movements painfully unhurried. He slid them down your legs, his eyes never leaving your face, seeking your approval every step of the way. You nodded quickly, letting your mouth hang open as he kissed you.

He knelt before you, his eyes locked on yours, as he gently removed your underwear, exposing your pussy to his eager gaze. Arthur's breath sped up at the sight, his desire for you evident in the way his body trembled.

"You're so beautiful, so wet for me," he whispered. He leaned forward carefully. You shivered, your pleasure pulsating through your veins as he blew gently.

Arthur's tongue basically rolled out of his mouth, tasting you for the first time. He moaned, the vibrations reverberating through your body, as he savored you. His tongue moved in slow circles, exploring every inch of you, driving you insane.

You arched your back, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch. Arthur obliged, his tongue delving deeper, finding that sweet spot that had you crying out in ecstasy. He suckled gently, his fingers finding your clit, teasing it with feather-light touches that had you trembling on the edge of release.

"Oh, Arthur," you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as your orgasm built. "Don’t Stop. Fuck, please..."

He didn't. Arthur was almost drunk of your pleasure, your moans making his pace get faster until it was too much to control.

Your climax hit you like a wave, crashing over you and sweeping you away. You cried out, your body trembling. Arthur continued his devouring, riding the storm with you, ensuring your orgasm was as intense and satisfying as it could be.

As your tremors subsided, Arthur slowly made his way up your body, his lips seeking yours. He kissed you roughly and passionately, sharing the taste of your climax. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.

"You’re so gorgeous," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with awe.

With that, Arthur positioned himself between your legs, his hard length pressing against your entrance. He looked into your eyes, seeking your consent, and you nodded, eager for more.

He entered you slowly, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation of being filled by him was exquisite, and you both groaned in unison as he seated himself fully within you.

Arthur began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. He set a gentle rhythm, taking his time to ensure your pleasure. He was mindful of your every reaction, adjusting his pace and angle until he hear you cry out his name.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned in response, your nails digging into his back, leaving deep red lines. Arthur's hips moved in a steady rhythm, his beard brushing against your neck. He kissed and bite at your sensitive skin, his touch a perfect contrast to the deep, almost euphoric pleasure of his thrusts.

He whispered words of adoration, praising your beauty and your responsiveness. His words were like fuel to the fire, igniting your desire and making you crave him even more.

As he continued to move within you, Arthur's pace gradually increased, his thrusts becoming more messy. He was losing himself in the sensations, in the feel of your body wrapped around his. You matched his rhythm, your bodies moving as one, a perfect duet of pleasure.

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the movement of muscles beneath his skin, as he pushed deeper into you. You could feel your orgasm building again, a familiar tension coiling within you, and you knew Arthur was close as well.

"I'm so close," you whispered, your breath coming in short gasps.

"Me too," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

With a final, powerful thrust, Arthur sent you spiraling into another mind-shattering climax. Your bodies trembled in unison, caught in the throes of ecstasy. He filled you completely, his release hot and intense, as he called out your name.

As your hearts raced and your breathing slowly returned to normal, Arthur collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you close.

The bed’s residual warmth lingered as you both lay entwined, the sheets a tangle from you and Arthur. His head was nestled against your chest, his breath soft and subtle against your skin. His hand rested gently on your side, while your fingers absentmindedly traced circles on his back.

He nuzzled into you, his voice a soft murmur. “My love?”

You looked down at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

He shifted slightly, his eyes still closed. “I love you.”

Your breath stuttered for a second, surprised by the words. You hadn’t expected him to say it so openly, so freely. It felt like something monumental that you couldn’t quite put into words. You swallowed your nerves and smiled softly, holding him closer. “I love you too.”

He hummed contently against you, his voice soft and sleepy. “Mhm, yeah…” He snuggled in a little more, his body still, his breath slow.

A sudden thought made you pull back slightly to look at him, your fingers tracing through his hair. “When did you realise?” you asked, your voice hushed.

Arthur paused for a moment, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but something else in his eyes, his eyebrows were furrowed and his face was relaxed and gentle. He let out a light sigh before speaking.

“I don’t know exactly,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “Maybe it started when we went out for that coffee date… I remember thinking that I could talk to you about anything, and that was something new for me. But then, every time we hung out, it felt like… like it wasn’t just about having fun or passing the time. It felt real, you know? The way we could just be with each other, like I didn’t have to try to be anything I wasn’t.”

You smiled, running your thumb over his cheek.

“And then there were all those moments when we just laughed, when we didn’t even have to say much. Just being around you felt right. It’s like, I didn’t realise it then, but looking back, it was always there, in every little thing we did.”

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed again, and he adjusted his arm around you. “I just—I don’t know. I guess I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You held him tighter, feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest. Your own heart was full, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you kissed his forehead lightly. “I’m glad you realised,” you whispered.

Arthur smiled into your chest, his breathing slowing even more as sleep began to overtake him. “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible.

“When did you fall in love with me?”

As you laid there, the warmth of Arthur’s body pressed against you and the soft rhythm of his breath filling the silence, his question echoed in your mind. His eyes were closed now, his face peaceful as he began to drift off, but there was something in his question that made your heart feel heavier, yet lighter at the same time.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking back to all the little moments that had slowly built up to this. It wasn’t a single moment, a defining moment. No, it was everything. You smiled softly as your fingers traced idle circles on his back.

You opened your mouth, ready to speak, but you realised you had to think about it, really think about how long you’d known. You thought about the first time you really got to know him, how his jokes, his passion, his beautiful smile had drawn you in. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than just work, just the podcast, just two people who would share the same space for a while, but somewhere in the middle of it all, you fell in love.

“I don’t know, Arthur,” you said quietly, your voice blending softly with the white noise around you both, as if finally speaking the truth out loud made it feel like everything had clicked into place. You could feel Arthur’s body soften against you, but you knew he wasn’t fully awake. So, you continued, knowing he would hear it anyway, even in his sleep.

“From the moment we started hanging out, I didn’t realise it, but there was something about you. At first, I thought it was just… you know, you being you. But then we’d talk and talk and I’d catch myself looking forward to hearing your voice, even when we were just texting about random things, like what movie we should watch for the podcast, or whatever weird topic you were passionate about that week. I remember you’d say these little things that would make me laugh, like the time you got so passionate about some movie I hadn’t even seen, but you were so excited to share it with me anyway. You didn’t even know you were doing it, but you were always so considerate, so you. That’s when I started to realise how much I was drawn to you, more than just your beautiful face.”

You let out a quiet sigh, remembering how desperate you were for him to see you, to notice you, to just be friends with you. It was strange to think back to the first time you found yourself standing by your window, waiting for Arthur to show up at midnight, the cold winter air biting at your skin as you told yourself, It’s fine, it’s just Arthur, but in the pit of your stomach, it felt like something else. The thought of him walking in, his scarf wrapped around his neck, his eyes focused on you, like he was waiting for something, too.

“Then there was that night,” you said, a smile forming on your lips as the memory surfaced. “When you came over in the middle of the night, just to hang out, and I realised you’d traveled all that way just to see me. And I remember thinking, This is it. That night, it wasn’t just about the movie, or the podcast, or even the fact that you wanted to spend time with me. It was the way you looked at me, the way you listened to me, like I was the only person who mattered. That’s when I realised I cared about you so much more than I ever thought possible.”

You could feel Arthur’s soft breaths, his chest rising and falling steadily, and it made you smile even more as you continued.

“You know, I thought I’d just be friends with you. Honestly, after that first awkward moment when when we went out to that market and all I could think about was how much i loved just being with you, no one else, I figured, This is just going to be a weird little friendship. But then… something kept happening. Every time you came to see me, even if it was just for work, I’d start feeling like maybe it was something more. Like when you showed up at my flat, and you were nervous and cute, and we just fell into the rhythm of being together. And when you kissed me that night, I don’t think I’d ever felt more special in that moment.”

You laughed to yourself, remembering how embarrassed you both had been afterward, and how awkward it felt, yet perfect at the same time.

“And then the way you’d show up to work with that stupid smile on your face, making my heart skip a beat every time I saw you. Even the teasing from Isaac about you liking me, all of that, it was building something bigger than I realised. I guess it was all those little moments with you, when you took care of me when I needed it, when we shared those late-night talks after everyone else had gone home. And then, when we started saying things to each other that weren’t just ‘I like hanging out with you,’ but ‘I like you’, really like you. That was when I knew.”

You hesitated, your gaze softening as it settled on Arthur’s peaceful face, his breath fanning over your chest. His expression was so vulnerable and truly peaceful, it forced a truth you’d been circling for longer than you cared to admit, out of you. “I think I’ve always loved you,” you began, your voice trembling. The words felt new and yet familiar, like they’d always been waiting for you to uncover them. “Maybe not all at once, but in pieces… little by little, over the months. And I didn’t even see it for what it was. Not until now.”

Your fingers brushed lightly through his hair, the soft strands slipping between them as you paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t realise it when you made me laugh on the worst days or when you stayed, even when I gave you every reason to leave. I didn’t see it when you looked at me with those lovely brown eyes. But it was always there, wasn’t it? This… love. Quiet, patient, waiting for me to understand.”

Arthur stirred faintly in his sleep, shifting closer, his arms tightening around you as if he could sense the depth of your thoughts even now. His lips curled into the faintest smile, and the feeling made your chest ache. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, lingering there as the truth settled fully into your heart.

“And now I know,” you whispered, your words meant only for the walls of the room and the man in your arms. “I’ve loved you for longer than I can even remember. Longer than I knew. And somehow… you waited for me to catch up.”

Arthur’s warmth seeped into you, like his soul was combining with yours through your flesh. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no urgency, no need to run from your thoughts or drown them out. You just let yourself feel.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling for a long moment before letting your gaze drift back to him. Even in sleep, Arthur had this way of pulling at your heart, of making you feel like you belonged in a way you hadn’t before. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you traced your fingertips lightly along the curve of his shoulder, marveling at how gentle and soft his skin was, almost as if it had been kissed by angels. You knew Arthur would give you an explanation for why this was not the power of god, but you knew that there was no scientific reasoning for how his skin glowed under the beams of lights so perfectly, you could thank every heavenly being you’d lay your eyes on.

“You know,” you murmured quietly, more to yourself than to him, “I used to think love had to be this grand, all-consuming thing. Something that swept you off your feet the moment you felt it. But this… this is different.” Your voice hesitated, but you pressed on, needing to say it out loud, even if he couldn’t hear you yet. “It’s softer. It’s in all the little things, like the way you smile when you’re teasing me, or how you’re always there when I need you, even when I don’t realise it. It’s been there all along, hasn’t it? I was just too scared to see it.”

Arthur shifted slightly, his face pressing against your chest, and you felt your heart swell again, almost painfully so. A shaky breath escaped you as your hand came to rest against his back, pulling him even closer. You wanted to freeze this moment, to hold onto it forever, because for the first time, you weren’t running from how you felt.

“Arthur,” you whispered, your voice breaking just slightly. “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you. Even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.”

You closed your eyes again, resting your cheek against the top of his head, letting his presence fill every empty space in you. The future still felt uncertain, and part of you knew there would be challenges ahead, but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the way he fit against you, as if he’d always belonged there.

And maybe, you thought as sleep began to claim you, he always had.

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The End.

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author note: THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR READING MY FIC !! i love you all so so so so much and as a thank you i will be posting many christmas themed fics soon !! if you have any requests that i have not answered that you want posting id love to write them now i have finished this. THANK YOU FOR READING !! let me know if you liked it <333

my lovely taglist:

@rubyskies @rkaya @pookietv @rougetv @arthurhillmastermind @fatneek444 @pretendyoucantseeme @neivivenaj @mmilllll @asmoothoperator

[greyyson-but-no]

dying to know what happens when reader from "kill the director" encounters rory 😭🫶 love love love your writing

lets dance to joy division

; prep yourself, i'm a 'rory is a villain' truther. it comes off very clearly in this lmao

the following morning, you and jess entered the diner for some sort of sustenance for the rest of the day. he hadn't exactly said what it was that you two were going to do all day, just that he had a couple ideas for what it could. the diner was somewhat busy. there were a couple tables opening up by the window, but the clock on the wall read half 11, which meant everyone that would come to the diner for breakfast had already eaten, and had left.

you and jess found two barstools by the counter for you to slide on as luke noticed your arrival and said some form of greeting. you'd ended up at the dragonfly, michel getting the two of you a room and somehow not recognizing jess at all. earlier this morning, you'd woken up with jess already out of bed and urging you to follow him into town. unsurprisingly, he had just bought you straight back to the diner.

"so you guys got anything planned for today?" luke asks, refilling our mug with more coffee, leaning against the counter as the late breakfast rush slowly petered out.

jess nodded, taking your jacket off for you. "i'm gonna show her everywhere and anywhere of importance."

the elder chucked to himself. "the lake?"

"that one's a surprise." he joked, lifting his index finger up to his lips to shush luke. of course, you had already heard the story of luke pushing jess in the water on one of his first days in town. you very very excited to see the place, get a better visualization of the situation, you know.

you took a sip of your coffee, humming along with their conversation as you tended to do. but when the bell above the door rang, luke's eyes widened and jess spun around to see who it was.

in walked rory gilmore, with heat-iron curls and a coat that looked more expensive than your whole outfit. you didn't even have to know what she looked like to see it was her. just the many stories you'd heard, the incident with miss patty yesterday evening and the way she held herself.

luke stammered. "i didn't know she was back."

jess shook his head. "apparently neither did i."

catching the sight of jess and luke, her eyes widened at the new-author's presence in the diner, face lighting up. swiftly, she made her way over to the counter, smiling. "jess! hey!"

jess naturally stepped closer to you. "rory... how've you been?"

she nodded, practically grinning. "not bad, not bad. i... uh, i moved back, as you can probably assume." when jess hummed, she still continued. "yeah no, mom and i made up, and i should be going back to yale in the fall."

"wow, um." he coughed into his fist. "that's good."

rory nodded, perky look faltering as the conversation teetered into basically nothing. jess didn't feel comfortable enough to continue the conversation and luke had already excused himself out of it to avoid the awkwardness. that left you.

so you slid off the barstool and held your hand out. "hey, you must be rory."

she hesitantly shook your hand. "yeah, and you are...?"

"y/n." you nodded, wrapping a hand around jess' arm as you tilted your head to smile at her. "jess and i are just visiting from philly, it's good to finally meet you, i've heard... a lot."

really, you didn't mean to be cold, or be a bitch. it just... happened.

rory nodded, looking between the two of you to try and connect the dots. it was clear she was struggling. there was something satisfying about her hating this situation so much. after all she did to jess, this was pretty funny. "and you two are... an item?"

"mhm." you hummed. "a year and a half, in fact."

"wow, that's commitment, jess." she laughed, turning to him and practically ignoring her conversation with you. it was becoming so obvious the kind of girl she was.

jess ignored her comment, simply tilting his head and snaking an arm around your waist. "yeah well, it was nice to see you again but we've got places to be so we better head off."

rory nodded. "yeah okay, i'll see you around."

the two of you wandered out the diner, his arm moving to around your shoulder, pressing a kiss against your hair as the door shut behind you. while you kept walking, it was evident you were both waiting to be in the clear before talking about what had just happened.

a couple seconds later, you turned the corner into one of the parks of stars hollow and both burst into laughter. jess found your waist and pulled you close.

"oh my god!" you were shaking your head, a hand over your mouth as you let your head fall against his chest. "that was... interesting."

jess smiled. "to say the least."

pulling your head back up, you caught his eyes. "its been two years and she is still not over you! i hate to say it, but i don't blame her, to be honest."

"mhm." he hummed, finding your hands and intertwining them as he looked over the details dotted around your face.

"and we didn't even get breakfast!"

jess' smile fell, pinching his lips together. "i'm really sorry, i really didn't know she was back here, i didn't know she'd turn up a luke's like that."

you furrowed your eyebrows at him. "why are you apologizing?"

"after last night's conversation i just thought-"

shaking your head, you shut him up. "like you said, you didn't know she would turn up like that. you've got no reason to apologize. so what we didn't get breakfast, so what we didn't get to have a proper chat with luke, we'll see him tonight. it's not the end of the world."

"i suppose." he shrugged, tilting his head.

resting a hand on his cheek, you smiled up at him. "and look on the bright side, i finally got to meet her, and got to be a bitch to her. you don't get to do that every day. especially to a yale idiot."

jess smiled, leaning forward to press his lips against yours in a swift peck that had you humming and smiling. "okay, that part was a fair bit satisfying."

"exactly." you smiled. "okay, now you've gotta show me around this place."

he let you go, taking your hand and dragging you in a very particular direction. "come on then..."

[ghostgirl-22]

Hear me out. Patrick eats out art and comes untouched.

erm… yeah okayyy its been awhile…lets do rimming again <33

CW: 18+, NSFW, EXPLICIT, mild feminization and rimming like it says on the tin, obviously if this grosses you out, or you’re a minor don’t read.

—-

It’s a normal night at first. Patrick checking on his laptop, checking his tour schedule. Arts just out of the bath, he’s swanning around in only his towel, vaguely distracting but nothing Patrick hasn’t seen before. 

 He’s taking his time getting ready to go out to a karaoke birthday party. Art’s half heartedly trying to convince Patrick to come but Patrick doesn’t love karaoke to start with, he can’t really sing and these are Art’s roommates’ friends, a whole theater crowd and honestly he’s heard Art’s roommate sing defying gravity in the shower more than enough to last him a lifetime. 

Art isn’t big on karaoke or his roommates singing either, but he’s expecting some pretty girl he’s been flirting with to show up. He’s shaved, even though he can barely grow facial hair. He’s putting product in his hair. Picking out the perfect outfit. It’s normal.

Well until he gets distracted. He crawls onto the other end of the bed to grab the remote and to turn up an episode of the office. 

Normal except he settles on the bed. Back arched, his towel riding up, barely covering him anymore. Patrick can’t help himself. all the blood in his head rushes immediately to his dick. He stares and stares at the swell of his bottom, the heft of his balls as Art giggles, clueless and distracted by the television. Oblivious to the fact that he’s basically on fucking display. 

Patrick’s fucked him once. Once on his last visit. Took him out to a gay club in San Francisco because his gay roommate made him curious. He got overstimulated to the point where they ended up having sex. A mess of awkward homoerotic feelings and emotions. Then more than 2000 miles of separation and ignoring it when Patrick flew to New York for a tournament. 

They haven’t really talked about it. It’s his first night staying in Art’s dorm since he’s been back at Stanford and with Tashi between them they’ve only skirted around it. But now Art is on display.

Patrick shuts his laptop and sits up on the bed. Something in him cracking a little. Something in him going a little sideways, a little fucked up. He gets behind Art and presses the towel up so he can see it all. 

Art looks behind him, “Patrick— I’m— what are you—“ 

He’s not able to find the question because Patrick is suddenly rubbing him, kneading his cheeks, spreading them. Exposing the soft little peach colored pucker at the center. Coated in a bit of peach fuzz, waiting to be tasted. His mouth feels so wet already. 

“Fuck I need to kiss you,” he mutters as he leans over and licks a stripe down the center. 

Art gasps. “no, no, no you can’t…you cant do that…you…” he starts but Patrick’s not wasting much time. He’s got him spread open, kissing him already. So Art ends his whole protest by falling into a helpless moan. His hips starting to move. His skins all soft, tastes like minty soap, he’s too clean Patrick can barely taste the part of him that’s him.

”no please…Patrick you’re… this is bad…” he’s whining, but all of it is pitched too high. And Jesus Christ he got hard really, really fast. He’s trying to crawl away but Patrick grips him, drags him back roughly so he can finish his meal. 

“Mm stay still I need to taste it… you can’t just fucking put it in front of me and expect me not to taste it.” He says, staring at it, he feels so hungry. Starved. 

“Patrick…” Art whines. “Oh Patrick…fuck.” He cuts himself off with another moan. 

Patrick kisses him slowly, tounge slipping in and out and around and around and around. Spelling his own name over and over. First and last. Sometimes middle. Art’s legs begin to quiver, his moaning gets louder. 

“Patrick its so bad…it’s dirty… it’s wrong… Patrick I need…” 

Saying his name over and over and Patrick’s aching for it.  

As bad as he claims it is, he’s starting to push back, riding Patrick’s tounge, his face. His hole twitching, clenching, swelling. Patrick’s got spit all on his cheeks because of it, all down his chin. His cock is so heavy, he can feel his heart pounding through it. He pushes his fingers inside between kisses and Art is riding that too. “Tastes so fucking good.” Patrick gasps. “Gonna need to fuck you when I’m finished. Oh shit. You’re taking it so fucking well.”

As he comes up for air and he’s vaguely aware of Art, ass up, sucking on his fingers, the flush on his face as he moans incoherently around them. His balls drawn up tight, his hips thrusting helplessly. Such a good little slut. Spread open wide and exposed for Patrick’s mouth, for his fingers for anything else Patrick feels like putting inside. Can’t help but to ride the pleasure. 

“You know how good you look right now? How fucking delicious your cunt tastes? Need kiss you every fucking day, give you filthy kisses that make you blush, because you like it so much,” Patrick groans, licking into him again. Art makes this delicious keening noise. The kissing getting obscene, Patrick can hear himself, wet and sloppy, and Art is shuddering with every touch. He’s too loud now, trying and failing to muffle himself in the pillow and suddenly he’s coming wet all over the sheets beneath him. A soft pitter patter as it spills everywhere. He’s breathless, chest heaving, still whining. 

It’s so fucking hot. Patrick barely has to move his hand to unzip his pants. Just the movement of the fabric ghosting along his cock and he’s unloading quite suddenly into his boxers, tugs them down to finish nearly untouched all over Arts ass. “Holy fuck,” he breathes, slowly coming back to himself and falling down onto the bed, next to him. 

Art curls up approximating fetal position, his towel still pushed up. He’s still making soft little sounds. His skin all splotchy, his fingers all wet.

“Mm,” Patrick takes a deep breath and wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist. “You okay?”

“Mmhm,” he’s still pitched too high. “Um… I made a mess.”

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Me too.”

Art rubs him through his boxers. “That was really fucking dirty,” he whispers.

“Oopsie,” Patrick smiles. 

Art bites his lip and squirms. “Shit my roommates gonna be back from class soon. And I— I’m—I’m not even a little bit ready.”

“So get ready… but don’t wash it off.” Patrick says softly, rubbing some of his semen into Arts upper thigh. “I want you to spend all night feeling me, and then tonight I wanna  fuck you after your roommate falls asleep. Hows that sound? Is it okay?”

Art takes a shaky breath, he dips his finger tips into a small puddle of Patrick’s come and tastes it. “Mm…It’s good,” he whispers. 

[bigglywiggly]

The day had finally come, you were finally going to meet the girl of your dreams, in person! Her name was Honey, she was a beauty streamer you had been watching for ages. Try-on hauls, pool streams, workout videos, all of it, you'd been here number 1 fan since day 1, donating thousands of dollars over the years to fund her lavish lifestyle, sending skimpy clothes and outfits for her to try on during her streams. To say you were smitten was an understatement. You would've done anything for even a minute with her, and luckily, that day had finally come.

One day, as you're tuning in to her stream, she posts a link on her page for "boyfriend applications." She wants to let her fans submit credentials and headshots for a chance to get more intimate with her, in a more personal way. You were astounded by this and instantly clicked the link and submitted an application. Seemed like pretty basic questions: height, weight, income, a headshot, basic things to understand the attractiveness and practicality of a person she deemed dateable. After filling it out to the best of your ability, you sent it in, a flutter and a hope in your chest. After, you tuned into the rest of the stream for the night.

The next week didn't go by quickly. Every day, you would sign in, check your inbox, emails, in hopes to see a response. As the end of the week neared, you lost all hope until you heard that melodious ding on your phone. At the top of your mailbox, you saw a new, unread email from who else, but Honey.

"Wow, you're super cute! I'd love to get to know you better, we should totally meet up!"

You almost dropped your phone, the air left your lungs and you were astounded, you punched and kicked yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Nope. This was real. This was happening.

After that, time flew by to this very day. You had hopped aboard a plane, flew across the country, took an Uber to her house and were now standing on her doorstep. The reality of it all was finally hitting you. What if this was a scam? You'd heard about these fake streamers that lure unsuspecting fans out to these abandoned homes and robbed them, leaving them with nothing. This surely wasn't one of those times, right? Maybe you should text someone to let them know where you were? No, there's no way your parents would understand, and your friends would just mock you for being some sort of pathetic weirdo. You'd gotten this far, you were gonna see it through.

You walked up to the door, with a pit in your stomach, and shaking, reached up to press the doorbell.

*RING*

Silence. You sat there for a few seconds, but nobody showed. Was this all fake? You went to ring again, out of hope, when you heard footsteps from behind the door. Fairly heavy footsteps. You could almost feel it, and...were the sidelights shaking? Must've been your imagination. 3 more thuds and you heard the lock click. Then another lock. 3 locks? That seemed odd, but who knows, she's pretty famous, can't have enough security right? The door swung open, and the first thing you saw made your jaw drop.

"Hey cutie~!"

You looked up and there she was. As stunning as the day you first tuned into her stream. Face first with the most incredible curves you'd ever seen, if you weren't so entranced with her body, you may have also picked up on the sheer height of her. You weren't short by any means, you stood at a comfortable 5'11, but this woman was something else. As she filled the door frame, you were face to face with a trench of cleavage that could strangle an elephant.

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Honey! I see you've met the rest of me already! *Giggle*

You blushed, quickly snapping your head up to meet her gaze. As you locked eyes with her, it was like the whole world vanished. Pale, blue swimming pools stared straight into your soul, piercing through you.

"Umm..sorry. Yeah, hi, ma'am, I'm-"

"Oh sweetie, I know who you are! And what's with the ma'am? It's Honey!"

She playfully pushed your shoulder, slightly for her, but you felt there was some gusto as it almost made you step back.

"Well come on in! No use standing outside gabbin!"

She stepped to the side and gestured you in, you carefully stepped into the house, walking light footed as if you needed to be delicate or careful, like what you were doing was lascivious.

"Take your shoes off, make yourself comfortable!"

She spoke behind you, closing the door and doing up the 3 locks.

"I don't often get visitors here, so apologies if the place is a bit messy!"

As you walked into the house, something already felt odd. Like there was a chill in here of sorts, but you figured it was just from standing with the door open so long. You heard her thuds from behind and she walked past you, beckoning you to follow her into the main area. Following her, you started to take in your surroundings. Pictures on the wall of just Honey, all above your head though, if she lives alone it makes sense though, but to only have pictures of yourself up seemed a bit odd, no?

Stepping into the main area, you encountered another odd feeling as you took it all in. The furniture was surprisingly tall, taller than you'd seen. The couch looked like it came up to your waist. Stools at the kitchen counter were almost shoulder height to you. Had she custom ordered all this furniture? Some of it almost seemed even too tall for her?

"I see you noticed the furniture, don't worry, I'm still growing into it myself!"

Growing into it? What was that supposed to mean? Maybe just a figure of speech? You pondered this as you saw her walk over to the couch and plop down. She shot you a glance and patted the cushion next to her.

"Come sit! We should get to know each other better, this is our first time after all."

You awkwardly smiled back at her as you walked over to the couch. As you got closer to the furniture, your observations weren't unfounded, this couch was truly massive. Her sitting on it made it look like a normal sized piece of upholstery, but next to you, it made you feel like a kid again.

"Sorry, couch is a little high, I gotcha though!"

"What do you-?"

No sooner did the words come out as she put two hands under your arms and lifted you up, with ease, and plopped you down on the cushion beside her.

"Wow, you feel a lot lighter than you listed on your application! Granted, maybe this growing girl just doesn't know her own strength yet!"

Growing girl? Twice now she's referenced growing and still it made no sense. This girl was already massive and clearly approaching 30, how in the world was she growing?

"So, before we start, I wanted to thank you. I've noticed you in my streams for the last couple years. I see the donations you send and the clothes you ask me to try on. No doubt these gals have caught your eye." She shimmied her shoulders and gestured to the heaving shelf of breast hanging from her torso.

"I appreciate the clothes a lot, it's never easy covering these puppies up, believe you me. I swear, they eat up whatever I cover myself with and then some."

You blushed, she was clearly very comfortable in her skin, I mean hell, she shows herself off online for millions of people to see, why were you surprised. You kept darting glances down to her chest as she spoke. God they were huge, unrealistically so. How could something so massive come into being? Something so warm and inviting yet erotic and arousing all at the same time.

"Ahem. Did you hear anything I just said?"

"What? Sorry, I was jus-"

*Giggle*

"I'm just messing with ya! You clearly are having a little trouble paying attention, almost like somethings...caught your attention?"

She slowly rose from the couch and crawled towards you. Her heaving chest swinging from even the slightest motion as she closed the distance between you. The closer she got, the more of your vision was obscured by that inviting trench in front of you. God what you wouldn't have given to dive right in there.

"Ya know...these girls really have a mind of their own sometimes...they get hungry, and when that happens, there isn't much I can do to calm em down. They just keep growing, year after year, bigger and bigger as time passes."

Inches from your face now, you can smell the sweat from her skin as her cleavage floods your vision. Swinging, back and forth, pendulously in your face, they're all you can see.

"Would you like to...see them get even bigger?"

Oh god. You're on the brink, you feel your faculties leaving you, almost as if you're regressing to a more animalistic state. You need to touch them, feel them, taste them, you need to be between them now. In an instant you throw up your hands on either side and dive face first into that canyon.

*Giggle* "You're not one to mince words, are ya? Just going headfirst, well don't let me stop ya, explore to your heart's content."

You mash your face in between them, pressing down on either side, burying your face more and more. The more you explore these mighty breasts of hers, the more you seem to lose yourself, the less the world around you seems to matter. Squeezing, smushing, licking, this has become your world now.

"There's a good boy, you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

Her voice invades your mind and almost snaps you out of your trance, you start to notice little changes. When were you on her lap? Was she always caressing your back? Wow, these breasts truly are enormous, it's incredible how your hands just...sink into them like pudding. It's almost like...the longer you caress and squeeze, the bigger they get...

As these thoughts flood in, you notice that you're struggling to breathe a little. You haven't come up for air in a while. You try to pry the breasts back a little bit to let yourself some air but...they won't budge? In fact, they feel so heavy, you're hardly even squishing into them anymore. You place your hands on the front of her breasts and start pulling back, trying to pry your head free, until you finally released yourself with an audible *POP* and tumble backwards.

The world all slowly comes back into view, your surroundings start to become more clear, but something's off now. You start to pull yourself up to stand, but feel the couch beneath your feet? Your senses start to come back rapidly as you see you're standing on the couch, but the back of the couch is towering over you. You gulp, shocked and start to panic.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Shhh, sweetie, relax."

You hear her low, sultry voice as you look back on her and almost fall back by what you see. There she is, on the far side of the couch, vastly looming over you. From your vantage point, she must be at least 35ft tall.

"What's going on?! What did you do to me?!"

"Aww, baby, can't you tell yet?"

She reaches out to you, you quiver as you see her gigantic hand approaching you, each finger bigger than a summer sausage. You try to push her hand away, but to no avail, she's far, far stronger than you. She wraps her fingers around your torso, lifts you up and carries you over to her face.

"Sweet pee, I wish you could see how cute you are right now. You're like a little bitty toy. You've done so much for me already, I wanted to thank you. You've really made an excellent donation."

"Donation?? What do you mean? Why am I so small? Change me back!!"

"Oh hon, I wish I could but your size is going to somewhere much greater. Just watch."

You see her bite her lip as the changes slowly take effect. You hear a subtle groaning as you witness her transform before your very eyes. You first notice the fingers holding you in place start to thicken, covering more and more of your torso. Then you see her thighs slowly plumpen, growing thicker and lusher. Then you notice the biggest part: her chest. Each breast begins to balloon, almost as if inflating, growing outwards and upwards, you can hear her bra beginning to creak and snap under her newfound weight. Her tank top straps strain and spaghetti before snapping and falling limply down her torso.

By the time it's all done, you see her take a deep breath as the tatters of her old outfit start to slip away.

"Wow, that was the best one yet! I just knew you'd be my biggest supporter. Apologies for these old rags though" as she gestures to her clothes, "allow me to slip into something more...fitting."

In a flash, you see the clothes on her body begin to morph, a black tank slowly forms from her old rags and lines up to hoist up her immensely enhanced bust. The straps, incredibly thin, squish down into her soft, pliable flesh.

"There, that looks better on me, dontcha think?"

"What the hell is going on?? How are you doing this? Why are you doing this?!"

She lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Hon, how do you think I got like this in the first place? How do you think I got this incredible body that lead to all these followers and all this fame? Donations of course! The sweet, perverted masses like yourself that so kindly add to, well, these masses!" She says as she honks her left breast, it's girth pouring out between her fingers.

"But, why? You don't even know me! I loved you and your content, I was happy to make those donations if they made you happy!"

"Hon, you and I both know why you made donations to begin with. You haven't been able to look at anything else since you got here, that's why you came here in the first place. You don't care about me as a person, you care about this body. Well, now you've made a contribution to the maintaining and improving of this body! You're almost there!"

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as you swallow deeply.

"Almost?"

She flashes you a devious grin.

"Of course, hon." She speaks in a deep, sultry tone. "There's still so much of you left."

Your eyes open wide as you start kicking and flailing in her grasp, doing anything you can to get away from this monster, but to no avail.

She lets out a low, echoing chuckle, "You'll have to try harder than that, hon! I can hardly feel your weight, let alone your struggles! And as much as I LOVE watching your little flailings, Mama's got a stream to do tonight, so."

And with that, she slowly brings you closer to her chest, dangling you above the gully that is her cleavage, and flashes you one last smile.

"Thanks for the donation, hon!"

With that, she stuffs you down between her breasts, deep, deep down, almost as if into the core of some desolate planet. As she reaches the centre, she releases her grip on you and retracts her hand. What little light you see from above vanishes as her hand leaves your prison and the crushing weight of her bust surrounds you. You try to move, try to kick, punch, scream, bite, anything, to no avail. You feel a vibration echo around you, clearly she's laughing at your struggles. The pounding of her heart starts to fill your ears, it's low, resonating rumble almost calming you as you miserably accept your fate. You close your eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

-Hours later-

You slowly awaken, hot and sweaty, a dry scratchy feeling in your throat, no doubt from your screaming. You're not sure where you are though, your eyes are hazy and struggling to adjust to the darkness, but you see a small sliver of a silvery haze far, far, far above you. Moonlight? You reach out for it, only to feel a warm, moist mass beside you. What is this? It almost feels like-

Your heart starts racing. You start to panic and snap your head around to acquaint yourself with your surroundings, until you hear a loud, roaring rumble echo around you. A snore. You find yourself plastered to the side of her breast, deep within her bosom, the sliver of light a small amount of moonlight peaking into her cleavage. You try to yell out, but you're still hoarse. You can hardly move your limbs as you try to scratch her breast. You feel a sudden movement as you think you've gotten her attention. Your hopes are instantly crushed as the light vanishes and you start to feel the weight of her other tit come crushing down on you. Your incredibly mild annoyance only caused her to roll over in her sleep, crushing you further down as the goddess around you rests. All that's left to hear is the subtle beat of her heart all around you.

You close your eyes and let out a single tear as you accept your fate, the irony of the situation finally settling in.

You always wanted to contribute to those beautiful breasts, and now, you finally have.